by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
A SHOULDER OUT OF JOINT.
When Gaspar, on first sighting the _biscachera_, poured forth vials ofwrath upon it, he little dreamt that another burrow of similar kind, andalmost at the very same hour, was doing him a service by causing notonly obstruction, but serious damage to the man he regards as hisgreatest enemy.
This second warren lay at least a hundred miles from the one they havesucceeded in crossing, in a direction due east from the latter, and onthe straight route for the city of Assuncion.
Let us throw aside circumlocution, and at once give account of theincident.
On this same day, and, as already said, almost the same hour, when thetrackers are brought up by the _biscachera_, a single horseman is seenwith head turned towards the Paraguay, and making as if to reach thisriver; from which he is distant some eighteen or twenty miles. He ridesat a rapid rate; and that he has been doing so for a long continuance oftime, can be told by the lagging gait of his horse, and the sweatsaturating the animal's coat from neck to croup. For all, he slackensnot the pace; instead, seems anxious to increase it, every now and thendigging his spurs deep, and by strokes of a spear shaft he carries inhis hands, urging his roadster onward. Anyone witness to his acting inthis apparently frantic fashion, would suppose him either demented, orfleeing from pursuers who seek nothing less than his life. But as theplain over which he rides is smooth, level, and treeless for longleagues to his rear as also to right and left, and no pursuer nor aughtof living thing visible upon it, the latter, at least, cannot be thecase. And for the former, a glance at the man's face tells that neitheris insanity the cause of his cruel behaviour to his horse. RufinoValdez--for he is the hastening horseman--if bad, is by no means mad.
Superfluous to say, what the errand pressing him to such speed. Insoliloquy he has himself declared it: hastening to communicate newswhich he knows will be welcome to the Paraguayan tyrant, and afterwardsreturn to Halberger's _estancia_ with a party of those hirelingsoldiers--quaintly termed _cuarteleros_ from their living in barracks,or _cuartels_.
With this sinister purpose in view, and the expectation of a richreward, the _vaqueano_ has given his roadster but little rest sinceparting from the Tovas' camp; and the animal is now nigh broken down.Little recks its rider. Unlike a true gaucho, he cares not whatmischance may befall his steed, so long as it serves his presentnecessity. If it but carry him to the Paraguay, it may drop down deadon the river's bank, for aught he will want, or think of it afterwards.
Thus free from solicitude about his dumb companion, he spurs and flogsthe poor creature to the best speed it is able to make. Not much this;for every now and then it totters in its steps, and threatens going tograss, in a way different from what it might wish.
"About twenty miles," the _vaqueano_ mutters to himself, with a glance,cast inquiringly ahead. "It can't be more than that to the riveritself. Question is, whether I can make it anywheres near Assuncion.I'm not sure about this trail; evidently only a cattle run. It may leadme too much above or below. In any case," he adds, "I must bring outnear one of the _guardias_, so thick along the bank, and the soldiers ofthe post will ferry me across. From there I'll have a good road to thetown."
So consoling himself, he keeps on; no longer paying much attention tothe doubtful cattle track, but rather taking guidance from the sun.This going down is directly behind his back, and so tells him the duecourse east, as well as west; for it is eastward he wishes to go. Now,near the horizon, it casts an elongated shadow of himself and hisanimal, far to the front; and after this he rides, as though followingin the footsteps of some giant on horseback!
The sun soon after setting, the shadow changes, veering round to hisrear. But it is now made by the moon, which is also low in the sky;only before his face, instead of behind his back. For it would be theseason of harvest--were such known in the Chaco--and the moon is at herfull, lighting up the _campo_ with a clearness unknown to northernlands.
Were it otherwise, Rufino Valdez might have halted here, and been forcedto stay in the Chaco for another night. But tempted by the brightmoonlight, and the thought of his journey so near an end, he resolvesdifferently; and once more pricking his tired, steed with spurs longsince blood-clotted, he again forces it into a gallop.
But the pace is only for a short while sustained. Before going muchfurther he feels his horse floundering between his legs; while a glanceto the ground shows him he is riding through a _biscachera_!
Absorbed in thought--perhaps perfecting some wicked scheme--he had notnoticed the burrow till now. Now he sees it--holes and heaps all aroundhim--at the same time hearing the screeches of the owls, as thefrightened birds fly up out of his path.
He is about to draw bridle, when the reins are suddenly jerked from hisgrasp--by his horse, which has gone headlong to the ground! At the sameinstant he hears a sound, like the cracking of a dead stick snappedcrosswise. It is not that, but the shank of his horse, broken above thepastern joint! It is the last sound he hears then, or for some timeafter; he himself sustaining damage, though of a different kind--thedislocation of a shoulder-blade--that of the arm already injured--with ashock which deprives him of his senses.
Long lies he upon that moonlit plain, neither hearing the cries of thenight birds nor seeing the great ratlike quadrupeds that, in theircuriosity, come crowding close to, and go running around him!
And though consciousness at length returns, he remains in that sameplace till morning's light--and for the whole of another day and night--leaving the spot, and upon it his broken-legged horse, himself to limpslowly away, leaning upon his guilty spear, as one wounded on abattle-field, but one who has been fighting for a bad cause.
He reaches Assuncion--though not till the third day after--and theregets his broken bones set. But for Gaspar Mendez, there may have beenluck in that shoulder-blade being put out of joint.