Henty George Alfred
Out on the Pampas: or, The Young Settlers

CHAPTER IX.
NEIGHBOURLY VISITS AND ADVICE

IT must not be supposed that the Hardys, during the whole of this time, were leading a perfectly solitary life. Upon the contrary, they had a great deal of sociable companionship. Within a range of ten miles there were no less than four estancias owned by Englishmen, besides that of their first friend Mr. Percy. A ride of twenty miles is thought nothing of out on the Pampas. The estate immediately to the rear of their own was owned by Senor Jaqueras, a native. The tract upon the east of his property was owned by three young Englishmen, whose names were Herries, Cooper, and Farquhar. They had all been in the army, but had sold out, and agreed to come out and settle together.

The south-western corner of their property came down to the river exactly opposite the part where the north-eastern corner of Mount Pleasant touched it; their house was situated about four miles from the Hardys. To the west of Senor Jaqueras, the estate was owned by two Scotchmen, brothers of the name of Jamieson: their estancia was nine miles distant. In the rear of the estate of Senor Jaqueras, and next to that of Mr. Percy, were the properties of Messrs. Williams and Markham: they were both about ten miles from Mount Pleasant. These gentlemen had all ridden over to call upon the new-comers within a very few days of Mr. Hardy’s first arrival, and had offered any help in their power.

The Hardys were much pleased with their visitors, who were all young men, with the frank, hearty manner natural to men free from the restraints of civilised life. The visits had been returned in a short time, and then for a while all communication with the more distant visitors had ceased, for the Hardys were too busy to spare time upon distant rides. One or other of the party at Canterbury, as the three Englishmen had called their estancia, very frequently dropped in for a talk, and Mr. Hardy and the boys often rode over there when work was done. Canterbury was also a young settlement, – only four or five months, indeed, older than Mount Pleasant, – so that its owners, like themselves, had their hands full of work; but sometimes, when they knew that the Hardys were particularly hard at work, one or two of them would come over at daybreak and give their assistance. During the final week’s work, especially just before Mrs. Hardy’s arrival, all three came over and lent their aid, as did the Jamiesons.

As soon as Mrs. Hardy had arrived, all their neighbours came over to call, and a very friendly intercourse was quickly established between them. As there was no spare bed-room at Mount Pleasant, some hammocks were made, and hooks were put into the sitting-room walls, so that the hammocks could be slung at night and taken down in the morning. The English party always rode back to Canterbury, as the distance was so short, and the Jamiesons generally did the same; but Messrs. Percy, Williams, and Markham usually came over in the afternoon, and rode back again next morning.

When the press of work was over, the boys and their sisters often cantered over to Canterbury to tea, and sometimes, but more seldom, to the Jamiesons’ estancia. The light-hearted young Englishmen were naturally more to their fancy than the quiet and thoughtful Scotchmen. The latter were, however, greatly esteemed by Mr. and Mrs. Hardy, who perceived in them a fund of quiet good sense and earnestness.

Upon Sunday morning Mr. Hardy had service, and to this the whole of their friends generally came. It was held early, so that the Jamiesons and the Englishmen could ride back to their homes before the heat of the day, the other three remaining to dine, and returning in the cool of the evening. Canterbury was entirely a sheep and cattle farm. The owners had five thousand sheep, and some hundreds of cattle; but they had comparatively a good deal of time upon their hands, as stock and sheep farming does not require so much personal care and supervision as must be bestowed upon agricultural farms. The Jamiesons, on the contrary, were entirely occupied in tillage: they had no sheep, and only a few head of cattle.

Mr. Hardy was remarking upon this one day to Mr. Percy, who replied, ‘Ah, the poor fellows are very unfortunate. They brought out a fair capital, and had as large a stock of sheep and cattle as the Canterbury party have. About six months, however, before you arrived, – yes, it’s just a year now, – the Indians swept down upon them, and carried off every animal they had. They attacked the house, but the Jamiesons defended themselves well; and the Indians were anxious to get off with their booty, and so they beat a retreat. Pursuit was hopeless; every horse had been driven off, and they had to walk six miles to the next hacienda to give the news; and long before a party could be got together, the Indians were beyond the possibility of pursuit. Two or three hundred sheep and a dozen or two of the bullocks found their way back, and these and their land was all that remained to the Jamiesons of their capital, for they had invested all they had in their stock. However, they looked affairs manfully in the face, sold their animals, bought a couple of ploughs and draught bullocks, hired a peon or two, and set to work with a will. They will get on but slowly for a time; but I have no doubt that they will do well in the course of a few years. Men with their pluck and perseverance are certain to get on. That puts me in mind, Hardy, of a matter upon which I had intended to speak to you. We are just getting now to the time of the year when Indian attacks are most likely to take place. Sometimes they are quiet for a year or two, then they are very troublesome again. Five or six years ago, just after I first came out, we had terrible times with them. Vast numbers of cattle were driven off: the sheep they less seldom take, because they cannot travel so fast, but they do drive them off sometimes. A good many shepherds were killed, and two or three estancias captured and burnt, and the inmates murdered. You are now the farthest settler, and consequently the most exposed. Your estancia is strong and well built, and you are all well armed, and good shots. You are, I think, in that respect safe, except from sudden surprise. The dogs are sure to give an alarm; still I should sleep with everything in readiness.’

‘Thank you, Percy; I shall take your advice. I expected it from what I had heard when I bought the place; but from hearing nothing of Indians all this time, I had almost forgotten it. I will prepare for defence without the loss of a day. The house has only one vulnerable point, – the doors and shutters. I will measure them this afternoon, and will get you to take over a letter and forward it to Rosario by the first opportunity, for some sheets of thin iron to cover them with.’

Mr. Percy promised to forward the letter the very next day by a bullock-cart he was sending in, and also that the same cart should bring them back. He said that if a conveyance were sent over in two days’ time for them, they would be in readiness at his place.

This conversation caused Mr. Hardy great uneasiness. It was a possibility he had been quite prepared for; but he could not feel that the danger was really at hand without an anxious feeling. His thousand sheep had cost him £250, and his cattle as much more. The lambing season had come and gone, and the flock of sheep had doubled in number. The cattle, too, had greatly increased, and the sheep were nearly ready for shearing. Altogether the value of the stock was over £1000. The loss would not be absolute ruin, as he had still £600 of his original capital in the bank at Buenos Ayres; but it would be a very serious loss.

Mr. Hardy had been alone with Mr. Percy when the conversation took place; but he determined at once to take the boys into his entire confidence. He therefore called to them to come out for a stroll down to the dam, and told them word for word what Mr. Percy had related to him.

Charley’s eyes brightened at the thought of the excitement of a fight with Indians, for which when in England, eighteen months before, he had longed; and his fingers tightened upon his gun as he said, ‘All right, papa, let them come.’ Hubert’s face grew a little paler, for he was not naturally of so plucky or pugnacious a disposition as his brother. However, he only said, ‘Well, papa, if they do come, we shall all do our best.’

‘I am sure you will, my boy,’ said his father kindly. ‘But there is no fear if it comes to fighting. We three, with our arms, can thrash a hundred of them. What I am thinking of is our cattle, and not ourselves. We will take good care against a sudden surprise; and it’s more than a whole tribe could do, to take Mount Pleasant if we are prepared.’

‘Do you mean to tell mamma and the girls, papa?’

‘I mean to tell them that it is necessary for a time to be on their guard, that the girls are on no account to venture to ride out alone, and that they must not stir out of the enclosure even as far as the hen-house, without first of all going up to the top of the lookout to see that all is clear. We must see that, in future, the sheep and cattle and horses are all driven at night into their wire enclosures, – we have not been very particular about the cattle lately, – and that the gates are fastened and padlocked at night. It will puzzle them to get them out. Our own three horses I will have in future kept within our own enclosure, so that they may be always at hand, night or day. I bought them with a special eye to Indians; they are all remarkably fast; and whether we run away or pursue, can be relied on. And now, boys, come up to the house, and I will open the mysterious box.’

The box of which Mr. Hardy spoke was a long case, which had never been opened since their arrival. No entreaties of his children could induce Mr. Hardy to say what were its contents, and the young ones had often wondered and puzzled over what they could be. It had come, therefore, to be known in the family as the mysterious box.

With greatly excited curiosity the boys now walked towards the house; but there was a slight delay, for as they approached, Maud and Ethel came running to meet them.

‘Is anything the matter with the dam, papa? We have been watching you having such a long talk with the boys. What is it all about?’

Mr. Hardy now told them as much as he thought proper of the state of things, and gave them their instructions. The girls, who had no idea there was any real danger, and who had besides an unlimited confidence in their father and brothers, were disposed to look upon it as fun, and Mr. Hardy had to speak quite seriously to be sure that his orders would be strictly attended to. The boys then informed them that the mysterious box was to be opened, and the whole party went up to the house.

The box had been placed in the storeroom on the upper floor of the tower, and the boys took up screw-drivers and hammers to open it. The latter tools were not necessary, as the case was very carefully screwed up; and when the top was taken off, it was found that there was an inside case of tin, soldered up. As the boys were cutting through this, they expressed their opinion that, from the extreme care taken, the contents must be very valuable. Still Mr. Hardy would give no clue; and when the case was finally opened, the astonishment of all was unbounded to find that it contained four dozen large rockets and a dozen blue-lights. One dozen of these rockets were ordinary signal rockets, but the rest were covered with strong tin cases.

‘Fireworks!’ they all exclaimed in intense surprise. ‘What have you brought fireworks all this way for, papa?’

‘I will tell you, my dears. I knew that the Indians of the Pampas were horse Indians, and the idea struck me, that as they could never have seen rockets, they would be horribly scared at night by them. Rockets, you know, are used in war; and even if the riders are not frightened, it is quite certain that the horses would be horribly alarmed by one or two of these rushing fiery things charging into their midst. I therefore had them specially made for me by a pyrotechnist in London. One dozen, as you see, are ordinary rockets of the largest size; they contain coloured balls, which will give out a most brilliant light. One of them thrown into the air, even where we believe any Indians to be, will light up the plain, and give us a fair view of them. The other three dozen are loaded with crackers. As you see, I have had a strong case of tin placed over the ordinary case; and one of them striking a man, will certainly knock him off his horse, and probably kill him. The roar, the rush, the train of fire, and finally the explosion and the volley of crackers in their midst, would be enough to frighten their horses altogether beyond control. What do you think of my idea?’

‘Capital, capital!’ they all cried.

‘But how, papa,’ Hubert asked, ‘will you manage to make your rockets go straight at the Indians? All the rockets I ever saw went straight up into the air.’

‘Yes, Hubert, because they were pointed up. A rocket goes whichever way it is pointed. Rockets in war are fired through a tube, or from a trough. We will use the trough. Set to at once, boys, and make a trough about four feet long, without ends. It must stand on legs high enough to raise it above the level of the wall round the top of the tower. Let there be two legs on the front end, and one leg behind; and this leg behind must have a hinge, so that, when it stands upright, it will be six or eight inches higher than the front, in case we want to fire at anything close at hand. When we want to elevate the head of the rocket to fire at anything at a distance, we pull the hind leg back, so that that end is lower than the front. Put a spike at the end of the leg, to let it have a firm hold on the floor.’

Charley thought a moment, and then said: ‘I think, papa, it would be firmer, and more easily managed, if we made two legs behind, with another one sliding up and down between them, and with holes in it so that it can be pegged up and down as we like.’

‘That would be certainly better, Charley. Put your idea down upon paper, and let me see exactly what you mean before you begin.’

Charley did so, and Mr. Hardy pronounced it to be excellent; and by night the trough was finished, and placed in position at the top of the lookout.

Mr. Hardy, in the course of the evening, explained to his wife that it was possible the Indians might venture to make a dash to carry off some of the cattle, and that, therefore, he had ordered the girls to be on the lookout, and to adopt every precaution upon moving out. To them he made an addition to his former instructions, namely, that not only should they look out before leaving the enclosure, but that, if one went out, the other should go up to the top of the tower every quarter of an hour to see that everything was still clear, and that if both were out, Sarah should do the same. The boys needed no instructions to load their revolving carbines, and the pistols and a double-barrelled gun were handed over both to Lopez and Terence, with instructions to carry them always with them. Lopez required no orders on this score. He knew what Indians were, and had a perfect horror of them. Their friends at Canterbury were also put upon their guard, as their estates were also very much exposed. Three days passed over, and then the light iron plates arrived for the door and window-shutters. Before they were nailed on, large holes were cut in them for firing through, corresponding slits being cut in the woodwork. When they were fastened in their places, all felt that Mount Pleasant could defy any number of assailants.

Orders were given to Terence, that in case of the dogs giving the alarm at night, the occupants of the hut were to retire at once to the house; to which he replied characteristically:

‘Sure, your honour, I suppose I may stop for a bit and pepper the blackguards till they get close to me.’

‘Not at all, Terence; you are to retire at once to the house. When we are once all together, we shall be able to decide, according to the number of the enemy, as to whether we shall sally out and pepper them, or stand upon the defensive.’

And so, every one having received their instructions in case of emergency, things went on pretty much as before.

CHAPTER X.
THE LOST CATTLE

A FORTNIGHT passed without the slightest incident or alarm. The rules which Mr. Hardy had laid down were strictly observed. The sheep and cattle were carefully secured at night; two or three of the native dogs were fastened up, down at the fold; one of the mastiffs was kept at the men’s hut, while the other’s kennel was placed by the house; the retrievers, as usual, sleeping in-doors. A flagstaff was erected upon the lookout, with a red flag in readiness to be run up to summon those who might be away on the plain, and a gun was kept loaded to call attention to the signal. The boys, when they went out for their rides, carried their carbines instead of their guns. The girls fulfilled the duties of lookouts, going up every half-hour from daybreak to dusk; and the call of ‘Sister Anne, do you see horsemen?’ was invariably answered in the negative. One day, however, Mr. Hardy had ridden over to Canterbury to arrange with his friends about hiring shearers from Rosario for the united flocks. The boys and Terence were in the fields ploughing, at a distance of half a mile from the house, when they were startled by the sound of a gun. Looking round, they saw both the girls standing upon the tower: Maud had just fired the gun, and Ethel was pulling up the flag.

‘Be jabers! and the Indians have come at last!’ Terence exclaimed, and they all three started at a run.

Maud turned round and waved her hand to them, and then she and Ethel continued looking over the plain. At this moment they were joined on the tower by Mrs. Hardy and Sarah.

‘It is all right,’ Charley, who was of an unexcitable temperament, said. ‘The Indians must be a long way off, or the girls would be waving to us to make haste. Take it easy; we shall want to keep our hands steady.’

So they broke from the headlong speed at which they had started, into a steady trot, which in five minutes brought them up to the house.

‘What is it?’ they exclaimed as they gained the top of the tower.

‘Oh dear, oh dear!’ Ethel said. ‘They have got all the animals.’

‘And I fear they have killed Gomez and Pedro,’ Mrs. Hardy added.

It was too evidently true. At a distance of six miles the boys could see a dark mass rapidly retreating, and numerous single specks could be seen hovering round them. Two miles from the house a single horseman was galloping wildly. The girls had already made him out to be Lopez.

The boys and Terence stood speechless with dismay. The Irishman was the first to find his tongue.

‘Och, the thundering villains!’ he exclaimed; ‘the hathen thieves! And to think that not one of us was there to give them a bating.’

‘What will papa say?’ Hubert ejaculated.

Charley said nothing, but looked frowningly, with tightly closed lips, after the distant mass, while his hands closed upon his carbine. ‘How was it, Maud?’ he asked at length.

‘I was down-stairs,’ Maud said, ‘when Ethel, who had just gone up, called down, “Come up, Maud, quickly; I think that something’s the matter.” I ran up the steps, and I saw our animals a long way off, nearly four miles, and I saw a black mass of something going along fast towards them from the left. They were rather nearer to us than the cattle were, and were in one of the slopes of the ground, so that they would not have been seen by any one with the cattle; then, as they got quite near the animals, I saw a sudden stir. The beasts began to gallop away, and three black specks – who, I suppose, were the men – separated themselves from them and went off sideways. One seemed to get a start of the other two. These were cut off by the black mass, and I did not see anything more of them. Lopez got away; and though some of the others rode after him for about a mile, they could not overtake him. Directly I saw what it was, I caught up the gun and fired, and Ethel ran up the flag. That’s all I saw.’

Ethel confirmed her sister’s account, merely adding that, seeing the two bodies in the distance, one going very fast towards the other, she suspected that something was wrong, and so called at once to Maud.

The animals were now quite out of sight, and the whole party went down to meet Lopez, who was just riding up to the enclosure. He was very pale, and his horse was covered with foam.

‘Are the peons killed, Lopez?’ was Mrs. Hardy’s first question.

‘I do not know, signora; but I should think so. The Indians caught them; I heard a scream,’ and the man shuddered. ‘Santa Virgine’ – and he crossed himself piously – ‘what an escape! I will burn twenty pounds of candles upon your altar.’

‘How was it that you were surprised, Lopez?’ Charley asked. ‘You were so particularly ordered to keep a good lookout.’

‘Well, Signor Charles, I was keeping a good lookout, and it is lucky that I was. I was farther away than I ought to have been, – I know that, for the signor told me not to go far; but I knew that the rise that I took them to was the highest in that direction, and that I could see for miles away into the Indian country. So I got out there, and Pedro and Gomez had got the sheep and cattle all well together, and there was no fear of them straying, for the grass there is very good. So the men lay down for their siesta, and I was standing by my horse looking over the campo. Some of the beasts seemed uneasy, and I thought that there must be a lion somewhere about. So I got on my horse, and just as I did so I heard a noise; and looking behind, where I had never dreamt of them, I saw a lot of Indians coming up at full gallop from the hollow. The cattle went off at the same instant; and I gave a shout to the men, and stuck my spurs into Carlos. It was a near touch of it, and they gave me a hard chase for the first mile; but my horse was fresher than theirs, and they gave it up.’

‘How many Indians were there?’ Charley asked.

‘I don’t know, Signor Charles. It was only those in front that I caught sight of, and I never looked round after I started. Some of them had firearms, for eight or ten of them fired after me as I made off, and the arrows fell all round me.’

‘What do you think, girls, about the number?’

The girls were silent, and then Ethel said: ‘They were all in a lump, Charley. One could not see them separately.’

‘The lump seemed to be about the size that our cattle do when they are close together at the same distance. Don’t you think so, Ethel?’ Maud said.

‘Yes,’ Ethel thought that they were.

‘Then there must be from a hundred to a hundred and fifty of them,’ Charley said. ‘I wonder what papa will do! One of us had better ride off at once and fetch him.’

‘I will go,’ Hubert said, moving away to saddle his horse.

‘Stop, Hubert,’ Charley said; ‘I think you had better take Lopez’s horse. I don’t know what papa may make up his mind to do, and it is better to have your horse quite fresh.’

Hubert agreed at once, and was mounting, when Maud said: ‘Wait a moment, Hubert, I will run up to the lookout. I may see papa; it is nearly time for him to be home.’

Hubert paused while Maud ran up to the house, and in a minute appeared at the top of the tower. She stood for a moment looking across the stream towards Canterbury, and then held up her hand. ‘I can see him,’ she called out. ‘He is a long way off, but he is coming.’

Hubert was about to alight again, when Mrs. Hardy said: ‘You had better ride to meet your papa, Hubert. He will be very much alarmed when he sees the flag, and it will be a great satisfaction to him to know that we at least are all safe.’

Hubert at once galloped off, while Maud continued to watch her father. He was about two miles distant, and was riding quietly. Then for a little while she lost sight of him. As he came up on the next rise, she saw him suddenly stop his horse. She guessed that he was gazing at the flag-staff, for there was not a breath of wind, and the flag drooped straight down by the pole, so that it was difficult to distinguish it at a distance. Then she was sure that he made it out, for he came on at a furious gallop; and as he came nearer, she could see that he had taken his gun from its place and was carrying it across his arm in readiness for instant action. In a few minutes Hubert met him, and after a short pause the two rode together back to the house at a canter.

Mr. Hardy paused at the men’s hut to give Lopez a hearty rating for his disobedience of orders in going so far out upon the plain. Then he came up to the house. ‘This is a bad affair, my dear,’ he said cheerfully; ‘but as long as we are all safe, we can thank God that it’s no worse. We shall get some of our beasts back yet, or I am mistaken. Ethel, run down to Terence, and tell him to drive the bullocks that are down with the ploughs into their enclosure, and to fasten the gate after them. Maud, give all the horses a feed of Indian corn and some water. Boys, tell Sarah to put some cold meat and bread into your hunting-bags. Load the spare chambers of your carbines, and see that your water-gourds are full.’

Mr. Hardy then retired with his wife – who had been looking on anxiously while these orders were being given – into their own room, where they remained about ten minutes. When they came back into the sitting-room Mrs. Hardy was pale, but composed, and the children could see that she had been crying.

‘Your mamma and I have been talking the matter over, boys, and I have told her that I must do my best to get some, at least, of our animals back. I shall take you both with me. It is unfortunate that two of our friends at Canterbury have ridden over early this morning to Mr. Percy’s, and will not be back until late to-night. Had they been at home, they would, I know, have joined us. I thought at first of sending over for Mr. Farquhar, who is at home, but I do not like losing the time. I shall send Lopez over with a note, asking him to come and sleep here to-night. We shall not be back till to-morrow. There is no fear of another alarm to-day; still I shall be more comfortable in knowing that you have some one with you. Do not go beyond the enclosure, girls, until we return. Terence, too, is to remain inside, and can sleep in the house to-night; so also can Lopez. You will therefore be well protected. Let us have something to eat, and then in ten minutes we will be in the saddle. Charley, fetch down three blue-lights, two signal rockets, and two of the tin rockets. Maud, fill our pocket-flasks with brandy. Hubert, you boys will each take your carbine and a revolver; I will carry my long rifle, and the other two Colts.’

In ten minutes they were ready to mount, and after a final embrace, and many a ‘Be sure and take care of yourselves’ from their mother and sisters, they started off across the plain at a long, steady gallop.

‘They have got just an hour’s start, boys,’ Mr. Hardy said. ‘Your mother said that it was exactly half an hour from the first alarm to my arrival, and I was in the house a minute or two under that time. It is about half past twelve now.’

‘It is very fortunate, papa, that we had our horses safe up at the house.’

‘Yes, boys. If we had been obliged to wait until to-morrow morning before starting, our chance of coming up would have been very slight. As it is, we shall be up with them in three or four hours. The sheep cannot go really fast more than twelve or fifteen miles, especially with their heavy fleeces on.’

Half an hour’s riding took them to the scene of the attack. As they neared it, they saw two figures lying upon the grass. There was no occasion to go near: the stiff and distorted attitudes were sufficient to show that they were dead.

Mr. Hardy purposely avoided riding close to them, knowing that the shocking sight of men who have met with a violent death is apt to shake the nerves of any one unaccustomed to such a sight, however brave he may be.

‘They are evidently dead, poor fellows!’ he said. ‘It is no use our stopping.’

Charley looked at the bodies with a fierce frown upon his face, and muttered to himself, ‘We’ll pay them out for you, the cowardly scoundrels.’

Hubert did not even glance towards them. He was a tender-hearted boy, and he felt his face grow pale, and a strange feeling of sickness come over him, even at the momentary glance which he had at first taken at the rigid figures.

‘I suppose you do not mean to attack them until night, papa?’ Charley asked.

‘Well, boys, I have been thinking the matter over, and I have come to the conclusion that it will be better to do so directly we get up to them.’

‘And do you think, papa, that we three will be able to thrash the lot of them? They must be a poor, miserable set of cowards.’

‘No, Charley; I do not think that we shall be able to thrash the lot, as you say; but, with our weapons, we shall be able to give them a terrible lesson. If we attack at night they will soon find out how few are our numbers, and having no particular dread of our weapons, may rush at us, and overpower us in spite of them. Another thing, boys, is, I want to give them a lesson. They must know that they shan’t come and murder and steal on our place with impunity.’

Scarcely another word was exchanged for the next hour. At a long, steady gallop they swept along. There was no difficulty in following the track, for the long grass was trampled in a wide swathe. Several times, too, exclamations of rage burst from the boys as they came across a dead sheep, evidently speared by the savages because he could not keep up with the others. After passing several of them, Mr. Hardy called to the boys to halt, while he leapt off his horse by the side of one of the sheep, and put his hand against its body and into its mouth.

‘It’s quite dead; isn’t it, papa?’ Hubert said.