"You'll see, young master, soon as I've made things ready for it. And your cousin here, he's the fittest for the part to be played. I'd undertake it myself, but I'm a bit too bulky to counterfeit a creature of such slender proportions as the _garzon soldado_; while Senor Cypriano's figure will just suit to a nicety."

Neither of the two youths has the slightest idea of what the gaucho designs doing; but, accustomed to his quaint, queer ways, and knowing that whatever he intends is pretty sure to be something of service to them--as likely to have a successful issue--they await his action with patience and in silence.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

A COUNTERFEIT CRANE.

Gaspar allows no time to be lost, but instantly commences taking measures for the _garzoneando_--whatever that may be. As yet neither of his young companions has been told what it is, though they soon begin to have a guess.

While they stand watching, they see him once more plunge his hand into those capacious saddle-bags, where for a time it rummages about. When drawn out again, it is seen to grasp a folded bundle of soft goods, which, on being shaken open, shows to be a shirt. No common cotton thing, however, but an affair of the finest linen, snow-white, with an embroidered bosom and ruffles; in short, his gala shirt, such as are worn by gauchos when they appear at _fiestas_ and _fandangoes_.

"A pity to use my best _camisa_ for such a purpose," he observes, while in the act of unfolding it. "Still it won't likely get much damage; and a wash, with a bit of starch, will set it all right again."

Then turning to Cypriano, he adds, "Now, senorito; be good enough to strip off everything, and draw this over your shoulders."

Without a word of protest, or objection, the young Paraguayan does as requested, and is soon inside the holiday shirt; his own having been laid aside, as also his _jaqueta, calzoneras_, and every other article of dress worn by him.

Meanwhile, Gaspar has been engaged getting ready several other things for the change of costume intended; one of these being a silk handkerchief of a bright scarlet colour, also taken out of the inexhaustible _alparejas_. This he ties about Cypriano's neck, not as an ordinary cravat, but loosely folded, so as to expose a breadth of several inches all round.

The gaucho's next move is to s.n.a.t.c.h from off the fire one of the f.a.ggots still only half consumed; from which with his knife he sc.r.a.pes the red coal, leaving the surface black, at the same time paring the stick to a sharp point. With some wet gunpowder he further blackens it; then placing the thick end against Cypriano's forehead, he binds it fast with a piece of raw-hide thong, the last carried around and firmly knotted at the back of the neck.

A few more touches and the toilet is complete; transforming Cypriano into what, at a distance, might be supposed a soldier-crane! At all events, the ostriches will so suppose him, as Gaspar knows; for he is but copying a scheme often practised by South American Indians for the capture of these shy birds.

"_Muy bien_!" he exclaims, as he stands contemplating his finished task.

"By my word, _muchacho mio_, you look the character to perfection. And if you act it cleverly, as I know you can and will, we'll make breakfast on something better than beans. Now, senorito; you're in costume to go _garzoneando_."

Long ere this, Cypriano has come to comprehend what is required of him, and is quite eager to have a try at the ruse so cunningly contrived.

Declaring himself ready to start out, it but remains to be decided what weapon he ought to take with him. For they have the three kinds--gun, _bolas_, and _lazo_; and in the use of the two last he is almost as skilled as the gaucho himself.

"The gun might be the readiest and surest," remarks Gaspar; "and it will be as well to have one with you, in case of your not getting a good chance to cast either of the others. But just now the less noise that's made the better. Who knows, but that some of these traitorous redskins may be still straggling about? Hearing shots they'd be sure to come up to us; which we don't want, though ever so much wishing to come up with them. Therefore, I say, use either the b.a.l.l.s or the rope."

"All the same to me," observes the young Paraguayan. "Which do you think the better?"

"The _bolas_, decidedly. I've known the _lazo_ slip over an ostrich's head, after the noose had been round its neck. But once the cord of the _bolas_ gets a turn round the creature's shanks, it'll go to gra.s.s without making another stride. Take this set of mine. As you see, they're best _boliadores_, and you can throw them with surer aim."

The weapon which the gaucho hands to him differs from the ordinary _bolas_, in having a longer stretch of cord between the b.a.l.l.s; but Cypriano is himself as well acquainted with this kind as with the other, and can cast them as skilfully. Taking hold of the weapon, along with his double-barrelled gun, and concealing both as he best can under the gaucho's shirt, he starts off upon the stalk; for he now knows what he has to do, without any further instruction from Gaspar. It is simply a question of getting near enough to one of the birds to make capture of it with the _boliadores_; or, failing this, bring it down with a bullet--one barrel of his gun being loaded with ball.

As he goes off, Caspar and Ludwig looking after him can see that his chances of success are good. For by this the _rheas_ have pretty well recovered from their scare, and are again tranquilly striding about.

Moreover, they have moved somewhat nearer to the bank of the _riacho_, where a bordering of leafy evergreens offers to the stalker cover of the best kind. Taking advantage of it, he, in the guise of a _garzon_, steps briskly on, and steals in among the bushes. There he is for a time unseen, either by those watching him from the summit of the knoll, or the creatures being stalked. The latter have already noticed the counterfeit, but without showing any signs of fear; no doubt supposing it to be what it pretends--a bird as themselves, with neck and legs as long as their own. But no enemy; for often have they pa.s.sed over that same plain, and fed in a friendly way alongside soldier-cranes--scores of them. Even when this solitary specimen again appears by the skirting of the scrub within less than twenty paces of them, they do not seem at all alarmed, though possibly a little surprised at its being there all alone.

Nor do they make any attempt to stir from the spot, till a movement on the part of the _garzon_, with some gestures that seem odd to them, excite their suspicions afresh; then raising their heads, and craning out their long necks, they regard it with wondering glances. Only for an instant; when seeming at last to apprehend danger, the birds utter a hiss, as if about to beat a retreat.

For one of them it is too late, the c.o.c.k, which chances to be nearest the bushes, and who before he can lift a leg feels both embraced by something which lashes them tightly together; while at the same time something else hits him a hard heavy blow, bowling him over upon the gra.s.s, where he lies stunned and senseless.

"_Bueno! Bravo_!" simultaneously shout Gaspar and Ludwig, the two together rushing down from the hillock, and on for the prostrate _rhea_; while the counterfeit crane comes forth from the bushes to meet them, as he draws near, saying:--

"I could have shot the hen, but for what you said, Gaspar, about making a noise."

"No matter for the hen," rejoins the gaucho. "We don't want her just now. This beauty will not only give us enough meat for breakfast, but provide dinners and suppers for at least a couple of days to come."

So saying, he draws his knife across the _rhea's_ throat, to make sure before releasing its legs from the thong. After which the _boliadores_ are detached; and the huge carcase, almost as heavy as that of a fatted calf, is carried in triumph to the camp.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE AVESTRUZ.

Soon after the trio of trackers have re-entered the _algarobia_ grove, a frizzling, sputtering noise is heard therein; while an appetising odour spreads all around, borne afar on the balmy breeze of the morning. Both the sound and the smell proceed from some choice t.i.t-bits which Gaspar has taken from the body of the great bird--chiefly slices from the thigh bone and breast.

By the time Cypriano has doffed the masquerading dress, and resumed his proper travelling costume, the cooking is done, and breakfast declared ready.

While eating it, by way of accompaniment they naturally converse about the bird. Not the particular one which exclusively forms their repast, but of ostriches in general, and more especially those of South America commonly called _rheas_; though to the gauchos better known by the name _avestruz_.

Both the boys are pretty well acquainted with these birds and their habits; Cypriano having several times taken part in their chase; while Ludwig best knows them in a scientific sense. Still there are many of their ways, and strange ones, of which neither one nor the other has ever heard, but that Gaspar has been witness to with his own eyes. It is the gaucho, therefore, who imparts most of the information, the others being little more than listeners.

"Though the thing isn't generally known," he says, "there are several distinct kinds of _avestruz_ in different parts of the country. Of myself I've seen three. First, a very small sort, not much bigger than a turkey c.o.c.k. It's darker coloured than the kind we're eating, with shorter legs and feathered further down. It don't lay so many eggs either; but, strange to say, they are almost as big as those of the other sort, only differently shaped, and with a tinge of blue on the sh.e.l.l. It I saw when I once went on an expedition with the Buenos Ayres army down south to the plains of Patagonia. There the climate is much colder than up here, and the _avestruz petise_, as the bird's called, seems to like that best; since it's never seen on the warm pampas farther north. On the other hand, the sort we have here, which is the biggest of all, never strays down to these very cold districts, but goes all over the _Chaco_ country, where it's hottest. The third kind I've seen is in bulk about midways between the two; but it's a very rare bird, and I believe not known to the learned _naturalistas_. Isn't that so, Senor Ludwig?"

"Indeed, yes. I never heard of a third species, though father has told me of the _avestruz petise_; which, as you say, is only found far south, ranging from the Rio Negro to the Straits of Magellan."

"Well," continues Gaspar, resuming his account, "I'm sure of there being there sorts; though I don't know much about the other two, only this we've met here. Of them I ought to know a good deal, having hunted them as often as there are days in the year. One thing there's been no end of disputation about; and that is whether several hens lay their eggs in the same nest. Now, I can say for certain they do. I've seen several go to the same nest, one after the other, and on the same day too. What should take them there if not to lay their eggs? True, they drop them about everywhere, in a very loose, careless way; as can be told by their being seen scattered all over the _campo_, and far from any nest. What this is for I cannot myself tell; though I've heard some gauchos say that these stray eggs--_huachos_ we call them--are laid here and there for the young birds to feed upon. But that can't be so, since the _huachos_ are never found pecked or broken, but always whole, whether they be fresh or addled. I think it's more likely that the hens drop these stray eggs because they have no nest in which to put them; that where they have laid their others being already full. Besides, there is the c.o.c.k sitting upon it; who won't let any of them come near, once he has taken to hatching?"

"Is it true, then, that the c.o.c.k does the hatching?" interrogates Ludwig.

"Quite true--all of it; and he's got a good many eggs to cover. I've counted over fifty in one nest. That of itself shows no single hen could have laid them; for, as it would take her a long time, the first ones would be rotten before the last came. As for the c.o.c.k when sitting, he's as cross as an old duck doing the same, but _ten_ times more dangerous to go near. I've known of a gaucho getting a kick from one he'd started from off the nest, almost as hard as if it had been given by a mule. And to hear them hiss then! Ah! that was nothing we've just heard from this fellow."

"Is it true they can swim, Gaspar?" again questions Ludwig.

"Like swans. No, I'm wrong there, for nothing can be more unlike. So far as the swimming goes, the _avestruz_ can do it, but in quite a different way from swans. They swim with their bodies under water, and only their shoulders, with the head and neck, above. It's a funny sight to see a flock of them crossing one of the big rivers; and scores of times I've been eye-witness to that bit of comicality. _Carramba_! a curious bird, the _avestruz_ is altogether, and a useful one, as we've now good reason to know. So, _senoritos_, let us be thankful to Providence that there's such a plenty of them on these _pampas_, and above all, for guiding the steps of this fine specimen, as to place it so directly and opportunely in our way."

The discourse about ostriches is brought to a close with the breakfast upon that which had led to it; both, along with the incident of the bird's capture, having occupied little more time than is here taken in telling of them. So little, indeed, that the sun's disc is not yet all above the horizon, when, having completed the repast, the trackers start up from their seats around the fire, and proceed to caparisoning their animals.

Nor do they spend many moments at this. Ever mindful of what has brought them thither--no mere excursion for pleasure's sake, but an expedition forced upon them through sad, painful necessity--they waste not a second that can be saved. Quickly, therefore, their horses are got under saddle, and bridled, with every article of their _impedimenta_ fixed and fastened in its respective place, besides, something on the croup of Ludwig _recado_, which was not hitherto there. Where the lost traps had been carried, are now seen the two thigh-bones of the c.o.c.k ostrich, with most of the flesh still adhering, each as large as a leg of mutton. There is a heart, liver, and gizzard also stowed away in a wrap of a _vihao_, or wild plantain leaves, which, tied in a secure packet, dangles alongside; the whole, as Gaspar declared, enough to keep them provisioned for at least a couple of days.

But although everything seems in readiness, they are not yet prepared to take a final departure from the place. A matter remains to be determined, and one of the utmost importance--being no less than the direction in which they should go. They have thought of it the night before, but not till darkness had come down upon them. Still unrecovered from the excitement consequent on the attack of the _gymnoti_, and afterwards occupied in drying their wet garments, with other cares of the occasion, even Gaspar had failed during daylight to examine the nether side of the ford at its outcoming, where he supposed he might hit upon the trail they were in search of. It was not because he had forgotten it, but that, knowing they would stay there all night, he also knew the tracks, if any, would keep till the morning.

Morning having arrived, from earliest daybreak and before, as is known, they have been otherwise occupied; and only now, at the moment of moving off, do they find time to look for that which must decide their future course and the route they are to take.

With a parting glance at the place of bivouac, and each leading his own horse, they move out of the _algarobia_ grove, and on down to the edge of the _riacho_, stopping at the spot where they came across.

But not a moment spend they there, in the search for hoof-marks other than those of their own horses. They see others soon as arrived at the stream's edge; scores of them, and made by the same animals they have been all along tracking. Not much in this it might appear; since unfortunately, these hoof-marks can be distinguished no farther than to the summit of the sloping bank. Beyond they are covered up, as elsewhere, by the mud. But Gaspar's keen eye is not to be thus baffled; and a joyful e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n escaping his lips tells he has discovered something which gives him gladness. On Cypriano asking what it is, he makes answer--

"Just what we're wanting to find out; the route the redskins have taken after parting from this place. Thanks to the Virgin, I know the way they went now, as well as if I'd been along with them."

"How do you know that?" questions Cypriano, who with Ludwig has been examining the Indian trail down by the water's edge--apart from the gaucho, who had followed it up to the summit of the slope.