allowances. Nor did we leave the toldotill every warrior had succumbed.
"I pity their heads in the morning," I said.
"So do I," said Castizo, "for this is not rum, but the vilest arrack,brought to the country specially for these poor wretches."
It is needless to say that there was no sleep for us that night.
Luckily it was fine, so about one o'clock in the morning we silentlycaught and saddled our horses, and rode away into the forest in the sameway as we had come.
We had great difficulty in finding our way, and had to steer by ourpocket-compasses. But we got through at last, and before the sun shoneover the hills we were far beyond pursuit.
We arrived early in the afternoon, safe and sound, at our Indian camp,and were received with every sign of joy, no one having expected wewould ever return from the land of Gualichu.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
CASTIZO'S IDYLLIC HOME IN THE CORDILLERAS--PREPARING FOR WINTER--CATCHING AND BREAKING WILD HORSES.
So long had we lazed on the Pampas and on the borders of theCordilleras, that summer had almost fled before we reached Castizo'smountain home. It is probably doing ourselves injustice, however, totalk of lazing on the Pampas. The time was well spent, for if there beany happiness of a solid nature on earth, I think it had been oursduring those all-too-short summer months. If you were to ask me for ananalysis of this happiness, I think I should reply that it resulted fromthat perfect freedom from all care which only a true nomad ever enjoys,from the constant chain of adventures and incidents that surrounded us,from the strange scenery weird and wild, from the beauty of the skynight and morning, and, above all, from the perfect, the bounding healthwe enjoyed, health that made us laugh at danger and consider troubles,in whatever shape they came, trifles light as air.
Castizo had told us often about his _estancia_ in the hills. For manyyears he had gone back and fore to it from Santa Cruz. It was simply acraze of his, he said; a mere whim or fad. He dearly loved loneliness,and in his own little Highlands he enjoyed it to the fullest extent. Hewas never afraid of the Indians. Not that he considered them immaculateas to virtue, and the soul of honour; but because his person, intact andsafe and sound, represented to them so much property. He never paidthem wholly until they had returned with him to the little station onthe eastern coast, and then great indeed was their reward.
But all independently of this, I am convinced that these poor Indiansdearly loved their white cacique, and that apart from any financialconsideration, any one of them would have fought for him until he felland died on the Pampa.
Yes, Castizo had spoken much to us of his life and adventures in themountains, but he had not described his little village. Therefore wewere not prepared for what we saw.
First, then, we had to cross a wide, extended, open plain or pampa, sogreat in extent indeed that we began to think the wilderness hadcommenced again.
In the very centre of this plain was a broad lagoon, but how fed ordried we could not tell, for no stream ran into nor out of it. There itwas, nevertheless, and all round its borders bushes grew, and a rank,rushy kind of vegetation with tall flowers, crimson, blue, and brightyellow. We noticed with pleasure, too, that there were both ducks andgeese on it. On the plain, moreover, we shot several birds of thegrouse species, though quite different from any I had ever seen before.
After we had ridden about an hour longer, a purple mist that hadhitherto hidden the hills was lifted up like a veil by some slightchange of wind, and there revealed in all its beauty was one of theloveliest little glens ever met with in a long summer's ramble. Andnear the top, closely shut in and sheltered from the cold west winds bywooded hills, was our mountain home. Primitive enough, in allconscience, was this _estancia_, consisting of a mere collection of loghuts, well thatched and cosy enough in appearance, but only one havingany pretension to display. This last was plastered as to its walls, hada little garden in front, and flowers growing up over it.
Before we reached this tiny village we came upon the Indian camp, andhere children and women and old men ran out to meet us, with joyfulshouts that were re-echoed from the hills and rocks on every side.
Even before the wives embraced their husbands or the children theirfathers, they all gathered round Castizo, the welcome they gave himbringing tears to his eyes.
"Yank! Yank! Yank!" they shouted a hundred times o'er. (Father!father! father!) Had he possessed a score of hands they would haveshaken them all, while the pretty children who could not reach highenough must catch and kiss the border of his guanaco robe.
They took away his horse. He must walk the rest of the way. He must bein their midst and tell them all his adventures. Their Yank must speakto his children, and tell them too what he had brought them.
The girls had culled wild flowers, and these they hung round the necksof all our horses, so that the welcome was a general one.
No, we had not expected this. Neither had we expected that the insideof the principal cottage would be so well furnished. Everything wasrough and homely, to be sure, but everything was comfortable and cosy.Viewed externally, it was difficult at first to see whence the smokecould issue, but as soon as we entered we noticed a very ample fireplaceindeed, the smoke being conveyed away by a copper chimney issuing fromthe back of the house, and thus protected from the baffling winds ofwinter and spring.
We admired all we saw, and Peter at once ensconced himself in one of theeasy chairs, and confessed that he felt happier and hungrier than he haddone for many a long day.
Pedro had the toldo erected at some distance from the house, andproceeded forthwith to cook dinner.
After this meal Castizo went down to the Indian camp, accompanied byLawlor, carrying a huge bundle containing the presents and pretty thingsbrought to the old men and women and children all the way fromValparaiso. There were pipes and cards (Spanish) and dice-boxes ofcurious shapes for the former, trinkets and dolls and toys and sweetsfor the children, and for the ladies strings of beads, necklaces,bracelets, and lockets that made them almost scream with delight andadmiration. As gewgaw after gewgaw was taken out the constant shout bythese impulsive young ladies was--
"_Heen careechi? Heen careechi_?" (Who gets that?) followed by agrateful--
"_O nareemo nachee_!" (Many thanks!) from the lucky recipient.
Only one old man asked for rum. But Castizo shook his head and repliedin Spanish, which this Indian understood--
"Never more, Goonok, never again. When last I brought rum to the camp,thinking you would but taste and put it away, _he aqui_! you and yourpeople drank all. All at once! You quarrelled and fought. There wasmuch bloodshed, Goonok. You know the green grave at the corner of thewood yonder. There your brave son sleeps. He was killed that night,Goonok, by his own cousin's hand. Never more, Goonok, never again."
"_Mate yerba_?"
"Yes, plenty of that. As much _mate_ as will last the camp all thelivelong winter."
"_He_!" cried the old man. "Is, then, our white cacique to stay with usthrough the winter?"
"Yes."
"And his young men and all his followers?"
"All, Goonok, every one of us."
"Then is Goonok indeed happy, and to-night, old as he is, Goonok willdance."
It was only natural that a ball should follow the home-coming of thewhite father, as Castizo was sometimes called.
A special toldo was erected for the purpose by the Indians by makingthree kaus into one, and to the music of horrid drums and still morehorrid pipes, very pretty dances were gone through indeed. It seemed tome a pity, however, that the men daubed their faces with paint or clay,as it gave them a grotesque appearance which bordered on the hideous.
At a sign from Castizo, and during a lull in the proceedings, Peterbrought out his clarionet. He had hardly played a note ere a silencedeep as death fell upon the assembled Indians. At first some of themran away, as if frightened, but all soon returned and stood or satlistening entranced. How very deeply the musi
c had affected them wasproved by the sighs they gave vent to immediately after Peter hadfinished. There must be something genuinely good in the heart of thosewild Tehuelches, or they could not love music so much.
We all slept well and soundly that night, there being nothing to disturbus save the occasional shrill scream of the Indian on sentry. Thisstartled Jill and I at first, but as the sound died away in mournfulcadence, instinct told us what it meant, and we slept all the betterafter it.
Though it was yet early in autumn, we took the advice of our own caciqueand set about at once preparing for the long winter that was before us.For storms in these regions come on suddenly, sometimes, long beforeautumn is over.
Our people were divided into two parties, one to hunt, another to workat home and in the woods.
The former brought in the flesh of the guanaco, the ostrich, thearmadillo, and even the skunk. Skunk meat certainly sounds offensive,but it is very delicious eating,