CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
LAWRENCE AND HIS MAN FALL IN WITH STRANGERS, HEAR GOOD NEWS, ANDEXPERIENCE ROUGH USAGE.
"Lost on the Pampas!" thought Lawrence, on awaking next morning. It wasromantic, no doubt, but--well, he did not follow up the "but" with verydefinite conceptions.
As he lifted his eyes towards the horizon, where the rays of the risingsun were suffusing the sky with a tinge of rosy light, his firstfeelings partook of gratitude for a night of unbroken rest, which hadrestored a bounding sensation of physical life and strength and energy.Awaking in such a condition of mind and body leads one, contradictorythough it may seem, to spend the first few minutes of revivingconsciousness in restful contemplation and enjoyment of one'ssurroundings. Raising himself on one elbow, our hero let his eyeswander dreamily over the vast plain. There was much monotony about it,no doubt, but the majesty of illimitable space neutralised thatimpression. On the horizon the intensifying tone of the rapidlyincreasing light harmonised with the varying greens and yellows of theherbage. Here and there one or two uplands in the far distance caughtthe sheen of day and relieved the prospect with streaks of varied hue.Still nearer a few clumps of low shrubbery increased this diversity alittle. In the middle-distance the varied colours and forms of thegrasses became distinct enough to invest the scene with character, whilein the immediate foreground additional force and interest were given tothe landscape by the person of Quashy lying flat on his back, with hisgreat eyes closed and his huge mouth open.
The state of dreamy contemplation did not last long. The sternrealities of the situation seemed to rush in upon his mind with suddenpower. Lost! lost! The captives perhaps still unrescued from thesavages! Manuela in danger! It was a dreadful state of things.
"Come, Quashy!" cried Lawrence, leaping up and giving the negro a roughshake that brought him instantly to a sitting and blinking condition."Get up. We must be off. Saddle the horses--the hor--why, where _are_the horses?"
He finished the sentence in tones of anxiety, for no horses werevisible.
Bounding into the patch of bushes, on the edge of which they had passedthe night, Lawrence ran through it hastily, followed by his man, who hadshaken off lethargy in a moment.
The patch was small. Moreover, the shrubs were barely tall enough toconceal a horse. In five minutes it became quite certain that thehorses were not there.
From the highest point of the rising ground they had a clear view of theplains all round, but after the keenest scrutiny not a speck resemblinga horse was to be seen. The searchers looked at each other in dismay.
"Lost! and our horses gone!" said Lawrence, in a voice which excess ofalarm had reduced to a sort of low, hoarse whisper.
"Most awrful!" murmured Quashy.
Lawrence cleared his throat and paused, while his sympathetic servantgazed.
"Now, Quashy," he said, "it seems to me quite impossible that ouranimals could have strayed in a few hours quite out of such an enormouscircle of vision. They _must_ be somewhere about, though we can't seethem."
"Yes, massa, dey _must_ be somewhar, as you say."
"Well, then, it follows that they must be concealed in one of the fewclumps of bushes that lie around us. So we must search these instantly,for our only hope lies in finding the horses."
"Das so, massa."
Even our negro's elastic spirit seemed to be subdued to some extent bythe prospect before them; for, apart from the fact that the bushy isletsin the grassy sea were scarcely high enough to entirely conceal so largean object as a horse, they were scattered about at such immensedistances from each other that a complete search of them impliedtoilsome labour for at least the whole of that day. Lawrence felt,however, that it had to be done, and arranged that his man should searchtowards the east, while he should take the west. To prevent the risk oftheir losing the mound on which they stood, one of their ponchos wasthrown over the top of the highest bush and fixed there as a signal. Soeager were they to begin, that both started off without a thought ofbreakfast.
It is not necessary to follow the steps of each. In regard to Lawrence,it may suffice to say that he wandered during the whole of that sultryday over the boundless plain, wearily but persistently examining the fewbush-islets that lay to the west of their bivouac without finding atrace of the lost steeds. As the sun began to decline towards the easthe gave up in despair, and, with weary limbs and something like wolfishhunger, returned towards the rendezvous.
Very different had been the experience of his sable servant.
Starting off, as we have said, at the same time with his master, Quashyfound the two horses, after a two hours' search, quietly grazing in agrassy hollow. A low shrub-covered mound lying close to this hollowintervened between it and the spot where our adventurers had spent thenight, thus effectually concealing the lost steeds from view.
The instant Quashy made the discovery he ran to the nearest elevation onthe plain with the intention of shouting the news to his master, but bythat time Lawrence was two or three miles away on the other side of thebivouac, quite beyond the range of sight and hearing.
Quashy, therefore, ran back to the hollow with the intention of catchingthe horses, mounting his own, and driving the other before him to thecamp.
And now began that interesting but somewhat exhausting andheart-breaking process which may be styled coquetting with a free horse.
Full of glad enthusiasm, the negro ran towards his own steed, holdingout his right hand, and exclaiming, "Come along, Ole Scrubby."
He had named the horse Ole Scrubby owing to some sort of facetiousperversity of his own temperament, for the horse, instead of being"ole," was quite young, and, far from being scrubby, it was a remarkablyfine animal.
"Come now, Ole Scrubby," repeated the man, "we's got no time to waste.D'ee hear?"
Evidently it heard, for, after allowing its master to advance withinthree feet of it, and even putting out its nose to smell his black hand,it gave a snort, turned round, tossed up its heels, and trotted away.Stopping short suddenly it turned again and looked at its master with ahigh head, as if to say, "There! what think you of that?"
"You ole scoundril," growled the negro, with an injured look, "di'n't Isay we's got no time to waste? eh! Come, now. Das enuff o' your fun."
He had again approached to within three feet or so, and again theplayful steed had protruded its nose and even touched his hand, butbefore that hand could grasp the halter, tail and heels were in the air,and away it went a second time.
Indignation, intensified to the uttermost, sat on Quashy's countenance."Scrubs," he said, solemnly--modifying the name a little, as he becamemore serious--"you nebber doo'd dat before! Come, sar, you 'bey orders,an' stan' still."
But the horse refused to obey orders, and declined to stand still. Hismaster began to lose temper--if we may so speak of one who only became alittle less amiable than usual. Under the influence of the condition,however, whatever it was, he became unjust, and began to call his horsenames.
"What! you _not_ 'bey orders? you ole screw--you unnat'ral villin--youobs'nit lump o' hoss-flesh! Stan' still, I say!"
Need we say that the horse refused to stand still?
Again, and again, and over again, the negro tried to lay hands on theanimal, and as often did he fail. Quashy, however, was not to be easilybeaten. His was a resolute and persevering nature; but the misfortuneon that occasion was that he had to do with a creature possessed ofgreater resolution and perseverance than himself. He spent hours overthe effort. He coaxed the horse. He wheedled it. He remonstrated withand reproved it. He tried the effect of the most endearing entreaties,and assurances of personal esteem. Losing--no, becoming less amiable,he flew round to the other extreme, and accused it of ingratitude,indefensible even in an ass. Then he sought to bribe it with offers offree forgiveness. After that he tried to frighten it with threats ofthe most painful and every way horrible consequences; but whatevereffect all these varied influences might have had upon the horse
's mind,the one unvarying effect on its body was to send its tail and heelstowards the sky, while it neighed joyously and trotted around. PoorQuashy went up to it smilingly--after that, frowningly; he cringedtowards it; he advanced straightforwardly; he sidled slily; he ran atit; he rushed at it; he bounced at it; he yelled at it; he groaned atit; he perspired after it; he went nearly mad over it, and, finally, hesat down before it, and glared in deadly silence in its innocent face!
Then the unfortunate man, having spent a very considerable part of theday thus, bethought him of trying to catch the other horse, but with ithe was also unsuccessful--indeed, the failure was even more emphatic,for Lawrence's steed refused to let him come within even hopefuldistance of it.
At last, in the profoundest state of despair to which he was ever knownto have sunk, he returned to camp. Lawrence had got there before him,saw him coming, and advanced to meet him.
"Well, Quashy, I have failed," he said, with a sigh.
"So's I," returned Quashy, with a growl.
"This losing of our horses," remarked Lawrence, "is the worst that couldhave befallen us."
"No, massa," said the negro, with more of sulkiness--or less ofamiability--than he had exhibited since they first met on the westernside of the Andes, "breakin' our legs would be wuss--smashin' our neckswould be wusser still. But de hosses is _not_ lost. Dey's on'yspunkerblued."
"How? What d'you mean?"
"Dey's down dar," returned the negro, pointing with his finger, "down indat holler--spunkerblued."
"Not killed, I hope," asked Lawrence, anxiously.
"Oh no, massa, on'y spunkerblued--stuffed to de muzzle wid deir ownself-will."
Lawrence received this explanation with a light laugh. "Come," he said,quickly, "lead the way, Quash, and I'll show you how to get them out ofthe spunkerblues."
Comforted and reassured by his master's hearty tone and manner, thenegro led the way to the spot where he had spent such a busy day.
Now, we do not know whether we have made it obvious to the reader thatLawrence Armstrong's kindliness of nature embraced not only the humanrace but the whole animal kingdom. At all events it is true thatwherever he came in contact with the lower animals he managed by somespecies of fascination to gain their affections. The mode offascination began, no doubt, with their stomachs, but this does notalter the fact. Among other creatures Lawrence had gained theaffections of Quashy's steed, and also of Manuela's and Pedro's horses,as well as his own, by means of sugar. With this simple appliance hewent into the hollow, and held out his hand.
"Come, Ole Scrubby," he cried, using Quashy's words.
With a cheerful neigh the rebellious one trotted up, received the sugar,and suffered himself to be led once more into servitude.
"Even among the brutes, Quash," he remarked, as he patted the nose ofhis own steed, "we are meant to `overcome evil with good.' Come, wemust spend another night here, for it is too late to start off now;besides, I am tired out, and starving."
"Massa," returned Quashy, as they mounted, "I's done up to dat extent,an' _so_ hungry, I could sleep on prickly pears, an' heat my wittlesraw."
In this condition of body and mind they galloped back to camp, and tookparticular care that the horses should not again stray.
Next morning, after breakfasting on the remains of their food, theymounted, and, taking the sun as their guide, headed away eastward atfull gallop.
Silently and steadily for two hours or more they swept along over thePampas waves, turning aside only a little once or twice to avoid groundthat had been riddled and rendered unsafe by the biscachos.
As noon approached Quashy gave a shout, and pointed to the horizon aheadof them, where living objects of some kind were seen moving along.
"Ostriches," said Lawrence.
"Dey's a noo kind ob ostriches wid four legs," returned the negro, "an'wid peepil on deir backs."
"I believe you are right. A party of mounted men, apparently. Come,this is well. Whoever they are we shall at least be able to gather someinformation from them, and, at the worst, we can follow them to someinhabited spot."
"True, massa, an' if dey's rubbers we kin fight dem."
On drawing near they found that the riders belonged to a family ofGauchos. There were six of them--all fine-looking fellows, clad in thegraceful, though ragged costume of the Pampas. One of their number wasa little boy of about five years of age, who rode his horse with all theelegance and ease of a Spanish grandee, though only about the size of alarge monkey.
They turned out to be honest and friendly men, who said that they werereturning home after assisting in a successful chase after Indians.
Had they been assisted by troops in the chase, Lawrence asked, eagerly.
Yes, they had--troops under a tall, white-haired colonel, and thecaptives had been rescued, the savages scattered, and the soldiers hadgone off in the direction of Buenos Ayres.
"So, Quashy, they've managed the job without our assistance," saidLawrence, on hearing this. "Now we must spur after the troops as hardas our steeds can go."
On this being stated to the leading Gaucho he shook his head, andadvised the senhor to go to their hut for the night. It was only alittle way out of the line of march; there the travellers could feed andrest well, and start refreshed in the morning. Besides, a storm wascoming on which would prevent all travelling for some hours.
As he spoke he pointed to a part of the sky which had become dark withclouds, and, without further remark, galloped away, followed by hiscompanions. Lawrence deemed it wise in the circumstances to accept theinvitation.
The day had been very sultry, and if our travellers had not beenignorant of the signs of the Pampas they might have known that the daywas heavy with the presage of storm.
Before the Gaucho home, to which they were hastening, appeared on thehorizon, the whole sky had become overclouded and vivid forked lightningbegan to play. From the way in which the Gauchos spurred and the horsestrembled it was clear that they feared being caught in the storm; andlittle wonder, for both men and beasts are filled with alarm whenovertaken on the unsheltered Pampas by one of these terrific tempests.The blast, sweeping unchecked over hundreds of miles of wilderness,often acquires a force that drives all before it. Sometimes great herdsof cattle have been driven bellowing before the gale, tumbling over eachother in wild confusion till some swollen river has checked their flightand ended their career.
Race, and spur, and shout as they might, however, the storm was tooquick for them on this occasion. The wind seemed to rush down upon themwith evil intent and fury, changing the temperature from sultry heat tosudden and bitter cold. Dust, too, was stirred up, and swept along sothickly that the day became as dark as night. Then the rain burst uponthem like a waterspout, and, mingling with the flying dust overhead,came down in the form of mud, mixed with flying sticks and stones, andgrass, and prickly thistle-heads.
So fierce was the hurly-burly that it seemed as if man and horse mustperish under it. Thunder also cracked and roared in terrific peals,while ever and anon the lightning flashed like gleaming steel throughthe darkness.
In the midst of this elemental war the party reached the Gaucho huts.What they were like Lawrence could not tell. He had galloped like therest wildly along, with his face buried in his poncho, and saw nothing--save once or twice, when, raising his head slightly and opening one eye,he saw, or fancied he saw, the Gauchos, like dark phantoms, flyingbefore him, and Quashy at his side, bending flat on his horse's neck.The stout negro seemed to care nothing for his body so long as his facewas safe, for he had let his poncho go, and as it was fastened only atthe neck, it flapped wildly above his head.
Presently they passed through an opening in what seemed a mud wall.Then they stopped so suddenly that Lawrence almost went over his steed'shead, while his man effectually did so, and, throwing a completesomersault, alighted by good fortune on his feet.
They all tumbled promiscuously into a mud hut, and then, clearing theireyes, found tha
t the Gaucho-leader and a woman, apparently his wife,were smiling welcome beside them; that the short-lived storm was alreadypassing away, after having done its worst, and that they were drenchedto the skin as well as covered with mud and thistle-heads from top totoe.