fasterevery moment. And now something very strange occurred, for suddenly itbecame very dark. One would have thought night was falling. While wewere all wondering what was about to happen, a blinding flash oflightning spread itself athwart the gloom, followed almost immediatelyafter by a rattling peal of thunder. Flash succeeded flash, peal afterpeal of thunder, harsh, sharp, and deafening, reverberated from rock torock. It was unlike any thunder I had ever heard before--not the deepbass roar that one listens to in a storm off the Cape, nor the crashingbig-gun sound of thunder in the mountains. The noise was of a tearing,rending character, and resembled platoon or volley firing as near asanything I know of. But the effect of the lightning among the fallingsnow was most beautiful and wonderful. And whenever a more brilliantand dazzling flash than usual occurred, for a few seconds thereafter theflakes looked purple, blue, and crimson, and sometimes nearly black.
Our horses stood the storm well, for they are marvellously trainedanimals.
It got lighter now, and gradually the snow ceased to fall, and we couldsee the sky. Blue it was towards the eastern horizon, with one dark,unbroken canopy of clouds moving fast away overhead towards theCordilleras.
Back rolled the great cloud-curtain, and presently out shone theglorious sun, and the scene around us was now beautiful but dazzling inthe extreme.
We rode on through the Pampas all that day. Whenever we came to alagoon--and we passed many--we noticed that the water looked as black asink. It is the same with the sea in the Arctic regions, the contrast incolour accounting for the optical illusion.
We saw many ducks on these lakes, as well as a species of wild geese;but Castizo did not think it advisable to delay our advance for the sakeof sport, especially as our larder was full to repletion.
The sun was setting when we reached our camping ground, which was underthe lee of a terrace of rocks and close to a pretty little lake. Tiredthough we all were, more particularly Peter, we could not help pausingto marvel at the extraordinary beauty of the snow-clad hills of thewest. Their strange and fantastic summits, and even far down towardsthe base of the mountains, were lit up with a glory of colour which inno country of the world have I ever seen rivalled or equalled. Theshadows or shades were sharply defined and of a bluish purple hue. Thehigh lights were either of pure white or the most delicate shades ofcrimson. What a beautiful world this is, after all, if we could be butcontent with it! and every sort of weather, every sort of scenery, andevery season, whether spring, summer, autumn or winter, has its ownpeculiar charm to one who is at home with Nature or Nature's God.
Our men and the Indians now bustled about, and in less than half an hourthe toldos were erected and the dinner nearly ready. Our dish to-nightwas to be a Patagonian stew, the meat consisting of the tit-bits of theguanaco and ostrich, with a kind of tuberous root dug up by the Indians,and which is indeed a palatable adjunct to diet on the Pampas. Anotherdish was to be a mash of ostriches' eggs, which, well salted andpeppered and mixed with a morsel of guanaco suet, is food fit for ahungry king.
But while dinner was cooking, and in order to pass the time, Ritchie,Jill, and I went down by the side of the lagoon to look for game, whilePeter lay down in the toldo to rub himself.
We had half an hour's splendid sport. Owing to the weather, perhaps,the birds did not care to fly, so we had to shoot them afloat Ossianwould not take the water to retrieve, so Bruce had all the work to do,and very nimbly and energetically he did it too. There were with usseveral of the ordinary Pampas whippets, but they merely sat with theirtails in the snow and looked on. It really seemed to us that Bruce wasshowing off a bit on his own account, for although he might have wadedinto the water, this did not suit him. It was not effective enough. Hemust give one warning bark first to attract the attention of themongrels--the bark sounding almost like the word "look?"--then down hecame with a feathering rush, sprang far into the water, swam up to hisbird, caught it nimbly and brought it out.
We retired early, and slept very sound indeed, particularly Peter.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
"OUR HORSES STAMPEDED"--"POOR BENIGHTED HEATHENS!"--JILL'S LITTLE JOKE--TELLING JEEKA THE STORY OF THE WORLD--ADVENTURE IN THE HAUNTED WOOD.
When we looked out next morning we found, to our surprise, that the snowhad all gone from the Pampas.
"Isn't it strange?" I said to Castizo.
"No," he answered--"at least I should say `yes, it is strange,' but thenone must never marvel at anything that happens on the Pampas. If I'many judge of the weather, however, well have summer now."
Travelling to-day was exceedingly difficult, the ground being so wet andsloppy. Peter only tumbled once. We came to a river, and had sometrouble getting over it. There should be no river here, though on veryrare occasions the rain from the mountains, and more particularly themelting snow, has been known to come down in an immense force and fillthe canon from bank to bank.
As the weather soon grew fine once more, with the exception of now andthen a drizzling rain or thick fog, which, however, did little more thandamp the surface and lay the dust, Castizo, our worthy cacique,determined to take things easy.
We therefore set about enjoying ourselves as much as we could. Ourreport was at all times excellent. I could not help saying to Peterthat a sportsman in this country who was not afraid of roughing it alittle, might actually accumulate wealth.
"And bumps," said Peter, solemnly. "My dear Jack," he added, "it's theroughing it that is the great drawback. Now I can walk as well asanybody. Or if I ride and the nag goes at a nice swinging gallop, thenI'm as jolly as if on the quarter-deck of an A1-er. But these beastlynags go hippity-skippity, skippity-nippity, till it's perfectlysickening."
"Well, but Peter, old man, you ought to be getting quite hard by thistime."
"No, Jack, it's all the other way. Instead of the saddle hardening me,I'm hardening the saddle. There is where the grief comes in, and I'mafraid it is breaking down an otherwise splendid constitution."
"Have an extra rug under you, then."
"A feather pillow would suit him best," said Jill, laughing.
"I'll tell Mother Coates about you, Mr Greenie, soon's we get home.That is if there be anything left of me to get home."
"Well, Peter," continued Jill, "it is partly my fault, after all--yourbeing so sore, I mean."
"How, Greenie?"
"Because I neglected to ask Mother Coates for the cold cream before thesteamer left Sandy Point."
At this moment a herd of guanacos was sighted. There was a shout fromthe Indians, who at once spread out to surround them.
"Hurrah!" cried Peter. "Here's for off. Hoop!"
And away went our erratic messmate, helter-skelter over the plains,quite forgetting the hardness of the saddle in that wild gallop.
Peter had become quite an adept at throwing either lasso or bolas. Theonly drawback here again being that after "heaving," as he called it, hewas apt to follow them, and this resulted in more bumps. It is reallysurprising to me that Peter never smashed his neck, or at the very leasthis collar-bones. When we congratulated him on his good luck in thisrespect, he replied--
"Why, how can I break bones? There isn't a bone in my body, I tell you.I'm all pulp."
Peter certainly had plenty of pluck.
I never saw Peter happier than one morning when awaking, we found thatall our horses had stampeded. Perhaps stampeded is too strong a word.It would be more correct to say they had silently disappeared. So wehad to walk in search of them.
The trail was evident enough, and led us still farther to the west.There was no mistake about it. Peter could walk if he could not ride.He was constantly turning round to us and calling--
"Come on, you fellows. Haven't you got any legs under you? Such olddawdlers I never did see!"
The Indians said that the Gualichu had lured the horses away--meaningthe evil spirit whom they sometimes worship.
The Gualichu might have been an evil spirit, but if so he was a mosthandsome on
e, and shaped like a small-headed, fiery-eyed, arch-neckedstallion, with marvellous mane and tail.
I was surprised to see Jeeka level his gun at the beautiful brute andfire. The stallion rolled down dead, and after that we had but littledifficulty in bringing back our steeds.
We encamped that night by a very small stream, which meandered through achaos of round stones and boulders. And here, for the first time sincewe set out, we succeeded in catching fish--a kind of grey mountaintrout; they were of excellent flavour, but small in size.
We saw some commotion among the Indians this evening after dinner, andfound they were muttering prayers or incantations, and making salaams tothe new moon.
"Poor benighted heathens!" said Peter, glancing up at the lunarscimitar, which had just escaped from beneath a little cloud.