by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
ON THE TRAIL.
It is the day succeeding that on which the hunter-naturalist was carriedhome a corpse, sitting upright in his saddle. The sun has gone downover the Gran Chaco, and its vast grassy plains and green palm-grovesare again under the purple of twilight. Herds of stately _quazutis_ andtroops of the _pampas_ roebuck--beautiful creatures, spotted like fawnsof the fallow-deer--move leisurely towards their watering-places, havingalready browsed to satiety on pastures where they are but rarelydisturbed by the hunter, for here no sound of horse nor baying ofmolossian ever breaks the stillness of the early morn, and the onlyenemies they have habitually to dread are the red puma and yellowjaguar, throughout Spanish America respectively, but erroneously, namedlion (_leon_) and tiger (_tigre)_, from a resemblance, though a veryslight one, which these, the largest of the New World's _felidae_, bearto their still grander congeners of the Old.
The scene we are about to depict is upon the Pilcomayo's bank, sometwenty miles above the old _tomeria_ of the Tovas Indians, and thereforethirty from the house of Ludwig Halberger--now his no more, but a houseof mourning. The mourners, however, are not all in it, for by acamp-fire freshly kindled at the place we speak of; two of them are seenseated. One is the son of the murdered man, the other his nephew; whilenot far off is a third individual, who mourns almost as much as either.Need I say it is Caspar, the gaucho?
Or is it necessary to give explanation of their being thus far from homeso soon after that sad event, the cause of their sorrow? No. Thecircumstances speak for themselves; telling than to be there on anerrand connected with that same crime; in short, in pursuit of thecriminals.
Who these may be they have as yet no definite knowledge. All is butblind conjectures, the only thing certain being that the double crimehas been committed by Indians; for the trail which has conducted to thespot they are now on, first coming down the river's bank to the branchstream, then over its ford and back again, could have been made only bya mounted party of red men.
But of what tribe? That is the question which puzzles them. Not theonly one, however. Something besides causes them surprise, equallyperplexing them. Among the other hoof-marks, they have observed somethat must have been made by a horse with shoes on; and as they know theChaco Indians never ride such, the thing strikes them as very strange.It would not so much, were the shod-tracks only traceable twice alongthe trail; that is, coming down the river and returning up again, forthey might suppose that one of the savages was in possession of a whiteman's horse, stolen from some of the settlements, a thing of no uncommonoccurrence. But then they have here likewise observed a third set ofthese tracks, of older date, also going up, and a fourth, freshest ofall, returning down again; the last on top of everything else,continuing on to the old _tolderia_, as they have noticed all the waysince leaving it.
And in their examination of the many hoof-marks by the force of thetributary stream, up to the _sumac_ thicket--and along the _tapir_ pathto that blood-stained spot which they have just visited--the same tracksare conspicuous amid all the others, telling that he who rode the shodhorse has had a hand in the murder, and likely a leading one.
It is the gaucho who has made most of these observations, but about thedeductions to be drawn from them, he is, for the time, as much at faultas either of his younger companions.
They have just arrived at their present halting-place, their first campsince leaving the _estancia_; from which they parted a little beforemid-day: soon as the sad, funeral rites were over, and the body of themurdered man laid in its grave. This done at an early hour of themorning, for the hot climate of the Chaco calls for quick interment.
The sorrowing wife did nought to forbid their departure. She had hersorrows as a mother, too; and, instead of trying to restrain, she buturged them to take immediate action in searching for her lost child.
That Francesca is still living they all believe, and so long as thereseemed a hope--even the slightest--of recovering her, the bereavedmother was willing to be left alone. Her faithful Guanos would be withher.
It needed no persuasive argument to send the searchers off. In theirown minds they have enough motive for haste; and, though in each itmight be different in kind, as in degree, with all it is sufficientlystrong. Not one of them but is willing to risk his life in the pursuitthey have entered upon; and at least one would lay it down rather thanfail in finding Francesca, and restoring her to her mother.
They have followed thus far on the track of the abductors, but withoutany fixed or definite plan as to continuing. Indeed, there has been notime to think of one, or anything else; all hitherto acting under thatimpulse of anxiety for the girl's fate which they so keenly feel. Butnow that the first hurried step has been taken, and they can go nofurther till another sun lights up the trail, calmer reflection comes,admonishing them to greater caution in their movements. For they whohave so ruthlessly killed one man would as readily take other lives--their own. What they have undertaken is no mere question of skill intaking up a trail, but an enterprise full of peril; and they have needto be cautious how they proceed upon it.
They are so acting now. Their camp-fire is but a small one, justsufficient to boil a kettle of water for making the _mate_, and the spotwhere they have placed it is in a hollow, so that it may not be seenfrom afar. Besides, a clump of palms screens it on the western side,the direction in which the trail leads, and therefore the likeliest forthem to apprehend danger.
Soon as coming to a stop, and before kindling the fire Gaspar has goneall around, and made a thorough survey of the situation. Then,satisfied it is a safe one, he undertakes the picketing of their horses,directing the others to set light to the faggots; which they have done,and seated themselves beside.