by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
A FISH DINNER AT SECOND-HAND.
As they make towards the tree, which has erst served others thanthemselves as a guide to the crossing-place, the nature of the groundhinders their going at great speed. Being soft and somewhat boggy, theyare compelled to creep slowly and cautiously over it.
But at length they get upon a sort of ridge slightly elevated above thegeneral level, though still unsafe for fast travelling. Along this,however, they can ride abreast, and without fear of breaking through.
As they proceed onward, Gaspar gives them some further information aboutthe ford they are making for.
"We can easily wade it," he says, "if this awkward and ill-timeddust-storm hasn't changed it, as everything else. When poor dear masterand I went across--that would be about six months ago--the water wasn'tquite up to our stirrups; but, like as not, last night's downpour hasraised it too, and we'll have a swim for it. Well, that won't mattermuch. There, at all events, we can get the horses out; as the bankslopes off gently. So there'll be no fear of our being stuck or sentfloundering in the stream. A regular Indian road, crosses the _riacho_there, and has worn a rut running down to the channel on both sides."
His hearers are pleased at this intelligence; Cypriano signifying so bythe laconic rejoinder--
"_Esta bueno_."
Then follows an interval of silence; after which Gaspar, as if some newthought had occurred to him, suddenly exclaims--
"_Santos Dios_! I'd forgotten that."
"Forgotten what?" both inquire, with a surprised, but not apprehensivelook; for the gaucho's words were not in this tone.
"Something," he answers, "which we ought to find at this verycrossing-place. A bit of good luck it's being here."
"And what do you expect from it?" questions Cypriano.
"I expect to learn whether we're still on the right track, or havestrayed away from it. We've been going by guesswork long enough; but,if I don't greatly mistake we'll there see something to tell us whetherour guesses have been good or bad. If the redskins have come up theriver at all, it's pretty sure they also have crossed the _riacho_ atthis very ford, and we should there see some traces of them. Sure tofind them on the sloping banks, as we did by the _arroyo_. That willcount a score in our favour."
By the time he has ceased speaking, they have reached the _quebracha_;and, soon as under its shadow, Gaspar again reins up, telling the othersto do the same. It is not that he has any business with the beacontree, as with that which served them for a barometer; but simply,because they are once more within sight of the stream--out of view sincethey left its bank below. The ford is also before their eyes, visibleover the tops of some low bordering bushes.
But what has now brought the gaucho to a stop is neither the stream, norits crossing-place; but a flock of large birds wading about in thewater, at the point where he knows the ford to be. Long-leggedcreatures they are, standing as on stilts, and full five feet high,snow-white in colour, all but their huge beaks, which are jet black,with a band of naked skin around their necks, and a sort of pouch like apelican's, this being of a bright scarlet. For they are _garzonessoldados_, or "soldier-cranes," so-called from their red throats bearinga fancied resemblance to the facings on the collar of a soldier's coat,in the uniform of the Argentine States.
"_Bueno_!" is the pleased exclamation which proceeds from the gaucho'slips, as he sits contemplating the cranes. "We sha'n't have anyswimming to do here; the rain don't seem to have deepened the ford somuch as a single inch. You see those long-legged gentry; it barely wetstheir feet. So much the better, since it ensures us against getting ourown wetted, with our baggage to the boot. Stay!" he adds, speaking asif from some sudden resolve, "let's watch the birds a bit. I've areason."
Thus cautioned, the others hold their horses at rest, all with theireyes fixed upon the soldier-cranes; which still unconscious of intrudersin such close proximity, continue the occupation in which they wereengaged when first seen--that of fishing.
Every now and then one darts its long bayonet-like beak into the water,invariably drawing it out with a fish between the mandibles; this, aftera short convulsive struggle, and a flutter or two of its tail fins,disappearing down the crane's capacious throat.
"Having their breakfast," observes the gaucho, "or, I should rather callit dinner," he adds, with a glance upward to the sky. "And the heightof that sun reminds me of its being high time for us to do something inthe same line, if I hadn't been already reminded of it by a hollow Ifeel here." He places his spread palm over the pit of his stomach, andthen continues, "So we may as well dine now; though, sad to say, wehaven't a morsel to make a meal upon but that juiceless _charqui.Santissima_! what am I thinking about? I verily believe my brains havegot bemuddled, like everything else. Nothing but _charqui_, indeed!Ha! we'll dine more daintily, if I know what's what. Here, _senoritos_!back your horses behind those bushes. Quick, gently."
While speaking, he turns his own out of the path, and rides crouchinglyto the rear of the bushes indicated, thus putting a screen betweenhimself and the soldier-cranes.
Following his example, the others do likewise, but without the slightestidea of what he is going to be after next.
Cypriano inquiring, receives the very unsatisfactory answer--
"You'll see."
And they do see; first himself dismounting and tying his bridle to abranch; then detaching his lazo from its ring in the saddle-tree, andcarefully adjusting its coils over his left arm. This done, heseparates from them, as he walks away, speaking back in a whisper:--
"Keep your ground, young masters, till I return to you, and if you canhelp it, don't let the horses make any noise, or budge an inch. Foryourselves, _silencio_!"
As they promise all this, he parts from them, and is soon out of sight;their last glance showing him to be making for the ford, going with bentbody and crouched gait, as cat or cougar stealing upon its prey.
For some ten minutes or so, they neither see nor hear more of him; andcan only conjecture that the design he has so suddenly conceived, hassomething to do with the _garzones_. So believing, curiosity promptsthem to have another peep at these piscatory birds; which by standing upin their stirrups--for they are still seated in the saddle--they can.Looking over the tops of the bushes, they see that the cranes continuefishing undisturbed, and seemingly unaware of an enemy being near, orthat danger threatens them.
But not much longer are they left to enjoy this feeling of security.While the two youths are still regarding them, first one, then another,is observed to elevate its head to the full height of its long slenderneck; while here and there throughout the flock are heard cries ofwarning or alarm; the frightened ones letting fall the fish already intheir beaks, while those not quite so much scared, suddenly swallowthem. But in another instant, all, as if by one impulse, give out asimultaneous scream; then, rising together, spread their broad,sail-like wings, and go flapping away.
No, not all. One stays in the _riacho_; no longer to look after fish,but with both wings outspread over the surface of the stream, beatingthe water into froth--as it does so, all the while drawing nearer andnearer to the nether bank! But its movements are convulsive andinvoluntary, as can be told by something seen around its neck resemblinga rope. And a rope it is; the youths knowing it to be the _lazo_ theylate saw coiled over Caspar's arm, knowing also that he is at the otherend of it. He is hauling it in, hand over hand, till the captured bird,passing under the high bank, disappears from their view.
Soon, however, to re-appear; but now carried under the gaucho's arm.
He cries out as he approaches them:--
"_Viva! muchachitos_! Give me congratulation, as I intend giving you agood dinner. If we can call _charqui_ flesh, as I suppose we must, thenwe shall have fish, flesh, and fowl, all the three courses. So we'lldine sumptuously, after all."
Saying which, he draws out his knife, and cuts open the crane's crop,exposing to view several goodly-sized fis
h, fresh as if just clearedfrom a draw-net! They are of various sorts; the riverine waters ofSouth America being noted for their wonderful multiplicity of bothgenera and species. The Amazon and its tributaries, are supposed tocontain at least three thousand distinct species; a fact upon which theAmerican naturalist, Agassiz--somewhat of an empiric, by the way--hasfounded a portion of his spurious fame, on the pretence of being itsdiscoverer. It was pointed out by a real naturalist, Alfred Wallace,ten years before Agassiz ever set eyes on the Amazon; and its recordwill be found in the appendix to Wallace's most interesting workrelating to this, the grandest of rivers.
In the La Plata, and its confluent streams, are also many genera andspecies; a question that gives Gaspar not the slightest concern, whilecontemplating those he has just made the _garzon_ disgorge. Instead, hebut thinks of putting them to the broil. So, in ten minutes after theyare frizzling over a fire; in twenty more, to be stowed away in otherstomachs than that of the soldier-crane.