CHAPTER EIGHT.
A NEW ACQUAINTANCE AND A CHANGE OF SCENE.
On their way back to the cottage they heard dogs barking, and a mantalking to them. Next moment these came in sight.
"The old hunter!" exclaimed Pedro, hastening forward with evidentpleasure to meet his friend.
It was equally evident that the old man was as much pleased to meetPedro, for they grasped each other's hands with hearty good-will.
"What news?" asked the old man, eagerly, as he held up a hand to checkthe dogs, which were leaping round him.
Pedro shook his head sadly, and the expression of the old man becamegrave. The question referred to Pedro's search for his lost child. Ithad long been the first inquiry when these two met after a separation.The old man seemed never to lose hope, but he had become so accustomedto the reply that his despondency was now of short duration. He hadknown and loved the child in days gone by--had helped the mother incultivating her garden-plot, and had gone out hunting with the fathermany a time. He was a fine-looking man, above seventy years of age,with iron-grey hair, turning in some places to pure white. The hunter'sspare though still upright figure showed that he must have been apowerful man in his youth, and the deeply-marked wrinkles about hismouth and eyes told eloquently that he was a kind one. Round hisshoulders were twined the cords of the heavy "bolas," or balls, withwhich he sometimes felled, at other times entangled, his prey. Theseballs were covered with clotted blood. He carried a short gun in hishand, and a large knife was stuck in his belt.
The dogs that leaped around him were a strange pack--some being verylarge, some very small, and all of different breeds. A few of them hadbeen lamed, and all were more or less marked by the wounds received fromjaguars and pumas.
"You expected me, Ignacio?" said Pedro, after the first greetings wereover.
"No--not quite so soon, but I chanced to be wandering about in themountains, and came down to take a look at the old place, to see thatall was right. You know I am fond of our old haunts, and never staylong away from them, but I did not expect to find you here."
The hunter spoke in Spanish, and Lawrence found to his satisfactionthat, although he by no means understood all that was said, he hadalready improved so much in that tongue through his frequent efforts toconverse with Manuela, that he could follow the drift at least of thehunter's remarks.
"I have come back sooner than I intended," returned Pedro, "for war is awonderful hastener, as well as dictator, of events; but I have to thankwar for having given me a new friend. Let me introduce Senhor LawrenceArmstrong to you; Senhor, my old comrade Ignacio, who, as I have toldyou, nursed me back to life many years ago."
The old man held out a hard bony hand, and gave Lawrence a heartysqueeze of friendship that had something vice-like in its vigour. Hethen turned to Pedro, and began to make anxious inquiries about the war.As the two men spoke in undertones, Lawrence drew back a few paces, andfollowed them towards the cottage. He observed that Ignacio shook hishead very often, and also that he laughed once or twice silently, butwith apparent heartiness. As he overheard the name of Manuela justbefore one of these laughs, he experienced some disagreeable feelings,which it was not easy to understand or get rid of, so he took tofondling the hunter's dogs by way of diversion to his mind.
The animals testified indirectly to the character of their master byreceiving his advances with effusive demonstrations of joy.
At the cottage they found Ignacio's horse--a very fine one--with a lassohanging from the saddle. Beside it stood a loose horse with the carcassof a guanaco flung over it, and a Gaucho lad who was the hunter's onlyattendant. Quashy was engaged in animated conversation with this youth,and Manuela stood beside him listening.
"I cannot understand," said Lawrence to Pedro, as they approached, "howmen ever acquire dexterity in the use of these bolas."
"Practice makes perfect, you know," said the guide, "and it doesn'tmatter much what sort of weapons you use, if you only learn to use themwell. Of course it's not easy to a beginner. When Ignacio's dogs turnout a jaguar or a puma, they follow him hotly till he stops to defendhimself. If the dogs fly upon the brute, the hunter usually jumps offhis horse, whirls the three balls about till they get up tremendousmomentum, and then brings them down on the jaguar's skull with a whackthat generally drops him. But if the dogs are afraid to go at him,Ignacio throws the lasso over him, gallops away, and drags him over theground, while the dogs rush in and tear him. What between bumping andhounds, the jaguar's career is soon finished."
"I'm glad I've met you," said Pedro to Ignacio, as they turned asideinto the bushes together, "for I've got news to tell, and I'll want yourhelp. There's mischief brewing in the air, and I am commissioned--"
Thus much did Lawrence and Quashy overhear before the voice died away inthe distance. It was a tantalising point to stop at! Lawrence lookedat Quashy and at Manuela, who stood near.
"Does Manuela know anything of the mischief that is brewing?" askedLawrence in amazing Spanish.
"Not'ing," replied the girl in English, "but she _trust_ Pedro."
"So do I, with all my heart," returned Lawrence; "my question wasprompted by curiosity, not by doubt."
"I's not so sure," said Quashy, with a frown, and a tone ofself-assertion which was rare in him. "Nice-lookin' men like him's notallers as nice as dey looks."
"Fie, Quashy! I thought you were of a more trustful spirit."
"So I is, massa--awrful trus'ful! Kin trus' _you_ wid a'most anyt'ing.Trus' dis yer Injin gal wid untol' gol'. Trus' Sooz'n wid de wholeworld, an' eberyt'ing else besides, but I's not quite so sure about disyer Pedro. Di'n't he say dar's noos to tell, an' he wants help, an'der's mischif a-brewin'? An' ain't I sure 'nuff dat he's got suffin todo wid de mischif, or he wouldn't be so secret?"
"Well, Quashy, you'd better not tell Pedro your doubts of him," saidLawrence; "for if he knocks you down, I won't feel bound to stand up foryou--seeing that I have perfect confidence in him."
Further conversation on this point was cut abruptly short by atremendous hissing inside the cottage, followed by clouds of steam. Itwas caused by one of Quashy's pots having boiled over. The negro sprangto the rescue. Soon afterwards, the host and the old hunter returning,they all entered the place together, and sat down to supper.
It was but a simple cottage, suitable to the simple tastes of amountaineer in such a region, with only two rooms and a kitchen, besidesa small attic divided into two chambers, which could be reached only bya ladder through a trap-door. Little furniture graced it, yet whatlittle there was bore evidence of having felt the touch of a tastefulfemale hand. Numerous nails and pegs were stuck in the walls for thepurpose of supporting fire-arms, etcetera, but the weapons had beensecreted in a place of safety, for, during the owner's frequent and longabsences from home, the cottage was locked up and left pretty much totake care of itself, being deemed safe enough, owing to its remote andlonely position.
The key was always left in charge of old Ignacio who was understood tohave his eye on the place, and privileged to inhabit it whenever hechose.
All this, and a great deal more, Pedro told to Lawrence as they satround the table at supper in what used to be the parlour of theestablishment. "But I'm going to lock it up, and hide the key thistime," he continued; "because I have to send Ignacio on urgent mattersinto the eastern parts of Bolivia, to--"
"To git help, an' tell de noos about de mischif what's a-brewin'," saidthe negro abruptly, with a pointed stare at the guide, and an arrestedpotato on the end of his fork.
"You've learnt your lesson well, Quashy," returned Pedro, with agood-humoured smile, as he helped himself to a fresh supply of meat;"these are the very words--to obtain help and spread the news about themischief that's brewing. Pass the salt, like a good fellow, and helpManuela to some more maize. You're forgetting your manners, boy."
The negro heaved a sigh of discomfiture, and did as he was bid.
Next morning at daybreak they left the cotta
ge, and descended theintricate valley which led to it. Pedro seemed to have quite subduedhis feelings--at least all outward manifestation of them--for he wassterner and more silent than usual as they resumed their journey. Forsome distance their route and that of Ignacio lay in the same direction,but towards the afternoon of the same day on which they left MariquitaCottage the old hunter bade the party adieu, and, accompanied by hisGaucho lad and his dogs, entered a north-easterly defile of the hills,and disappeared.
"We shall soon get to more cultivated lands, Manuela," said Pedro, inthe Indian tongue, glancing back at Lawrence, who rode a few pacesbehind. "I doubt not you will be glad to see female faces again."
To the surprise of the guide, Manuela said that she did not care!
"Indeed!" he rejoined; "I thought you would be getting tired by thistime of such rough travelling, and frequent hard lodging and fare, aswell as of the conversation of us men."
"No, I am not tired. I delight in this wild, free life."
"Surely not because it is _new_ to you," said Pedro, with a glance ofamusement; "when you dwell with your kindred, your life must be wildenough--unless indeed the great chief, your father, deems it beneath thedignity of his daughter to join in the sports of her fellows."
Manuela made no reply, but for a moment or two gave vent to that clear,short, merry laugh in which she sometimes indulged. Lawrence Armstrong,irresistibly charmed by the sound, rode up alongside.
"Manuela is merry," he said to the guide; "will you not translate, thatI may enjoy the joke?"
"It is not easy to translate," replied Pedro. "In fact, I doubt if youwill see the joke at all. It requires a little knowledge of Manuela'spast career to make understanding possible. She only said that shedelighted in this wild, free life."
"Not much jest in that, truly," returned Lawrence, "being, I fear, dullof comprehension; nevertheless, I see an unintentional compliment to_us_ in the remark, for it implies that we have not made Manuela'sjourney tedious to her."
"It may be so," said Pedro, simply. "I was just telling her that weshall soon get to more inhabited parts of the land, where she will havea little female society now and then, and I was about to add thatafterwards we shall descend into the lower grounds of Bolivia, where shewill have wild life enough to her heart's content--perchance too much ofit."
Soon afterwards the guide's prophecy came true, for they passed from therugged mountains into a wide and richly clothed table-land, where therewere a few scattered farms, at which they were made heartily welcomewhenever they chose to stop for the night or for a meal.
Passing thence into another range of comparatively low hills, theyreached the town of San Ambrosio, where they found comfortable quartersin a new and commodious inn--at least it seemed commodious, after therecent experiences of our travellers.
Here Pedro said he would have to spend a day or two, as he had businessto transact in the town, and that he would search out an oldacquaintance with whose family he would place Manuela till theirdeparture.
While Pedro was gone in quest of his friend, the Indian girl, probablyfeeling shy in the midst of such unwonted crowds, retired to the roomprovided for her, and Lawrence and Quashy found themselves left in theunusual condition of having nothing to do. Of course, in thesecircumstances, they resolved to go out and see the town.
While Lawrence was questioning the landlord, an American, as to how heshould proceed, a very decided tremor passed through his frame. Quashyseemed to experience a similar sensation, for he said abruptly--
"Eart'quak'!"
"That's nothing new here, sir," said the landlord to Lawrence, as helighted a cigarette; "we're used to it, though some of the natives ain'tquite easy in their minds, for the shocks have been both frequent aswell as violent lately."
"Have they done any damage?" asked Lawrence.
"Nothin' to speak of. Only shook down a house or two that was built tosell, I suppose, not to stand. You'll find the market-place second turnto your left."
Somewhat impressed by the landlord's free-and-easy manner, as well as byhis apparent contempt for earthquakes, the master and man went outtogether. With characteristic modesty the negro attempted to walkbehind, but Lawrence would by no means permit this. He insisted on hiswalking beside him.
"Bery good, massa," said Quashy, at last giving in, "if you _will_ walk'longside ob a nigger, 's'not _my_ fault. Don't blame _me_."
With this protest, solemnly uttered, the faithful negro accompanied ourhero in his inspection of the town.