by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
A PARTY NOT TO BE PURSUED.
For some seconds, Rufino Valdez is in a state of semi-bewilderment, fromhis lips proceeding exclamations that tell of surprise, but morechagrin. Something of weird terror, too, in the expression upon hissallow, cadaverous face, as the grey dawn dimly lights it up.
"_Mil demonios_!" he mutters, gazing distractedly on the ground. "Whatdoes this mean? Is it possible the _gringo's_ got away? Possible? Ay,certain. And his animal, too! Yes, I remember we left that, fools aswe were, in our furious haste. It's all clear, and, as I halfanticipated, he's been able to climb on the horse, and's off home!There by this time, like enough."
With this double adjuration, he resolves upon dismounting, to makebetter inspection of the place, and, if possible, assure himself whetherhis victim has really survived the murderous attack. But just as he hasdrawn one foot out of the stirrup and is balancing on the other, a soundreaches his ear, causing him to reseat himself in the saddle, and sitlistening. Only a slight noise it was, but one in that place ofpeculiar significance, being the hoof-stroke of a horse.
"Good!" he ejaculates in a whisper, "it must be his."
Hearkening a little longer, he hears the sound again, apparently furtheroff, and as his practised ear tells him, the distance increasing.
"It must be his horse," he reiterates, still continuing to listen. "Andwho but he on the animal's back? Going off? Yes; slowly enough. Nowonder at that. Ha! he's come to a halt. What's the best thing for meto do?"
He sits silently considering, but only for a few seconds; then glancingaround the glade, in which yester eve he had shed innocent blood, at thesame time losing some of his own, he sees another break among thebushes, where the _tapir_ path goes out again. Faint as the light stillis, it shows him some horse-tracks, apparently quite fresh, leading offthat way.
He stays not for more, but again plying the spur, re-enters the thicket,not to go back to the ford, but on in the opposite direction. The_tapir_ path takes him up an acclivity, from the stream's edge to thelevel of the higher plain, and against it he urges his horse to as muchspeed as the nature of the ground will permit. He has thrown awaycaution now, and presses forward without fear, expecting soon to see aman on horseback, but so badly crippled as to be easily overtaken, andas easily overcome.
What he does see, on reaching the summit of the slope, is something verydifferent--two horses instead of one, with a man upon the back of each!And though one may be wounded and disabled, as he knows him to be, theother is not so, as he can well see. Instead, a man in full health,strength, and vigour, one Rufino Valdez fears as much as hates, thoughhating him with his whole heart. For it is Gaspar, the gaucho, once hisrival in the affections of a Paraguayan girl, and successful in gainingthem.
That the _vaqueano's_ fear now predominates over his antipathy isevident from his behaviour. Instead of dashing on after to overtake thehorsemen, who, with backs towards him, are slowly retiring, he showsonly a desire to shun them. True, there would be two to one, and he hashimself but a single arm available--his left, broken and bandaged, beingnow in a sling. But then only one of the two would be likely to standagainst him, the other being too far gone for light. Indeed,Halberger--for Valdez naturally supposes it to be he--sits drooped inhis saddle, as though he had difficulty in keeping to it. Not that hehas any idea of attacking them does the _vaqueano_ take note of this,nor has he the slightest thought of attempting to overtake them. Evenknew he that the wounded man were about to drop dead, he knows the otherwould be more than his match, with both his own arms sound and at theirbest, for they have been already locked in deadly strife with those ofthe gaucho, who could have taken his life, but generously forebore. Notfor the world would Rufino Valdez again engage in single combat withCaspar Mendez, and soon as setting eyes on the latter he draws bridle soabruptly that his horse starts back as if he had trodden upon arattlesnake.
Quieting the animal with some whispered words, he places himself behinda thick bush, and there stays all of a tremble, the only thing stedfastabout him being his gaze, fixed upon the forms of the departingtravellers. So carefully does he screen himself, that from the frontnothing is visible to indicate the presence of anyone there, save thepoint of a spear, with dry blood upon the blade, projecting above thebushes, and just touching the fronds of a palm-tree, its ensanguined huein vivid contrast with the green of the leaves, as guilt and death inthe midst of innocence and life!
Not till they have passed almost out of his sight, their heads graduallygoing down behind the culms of the tall pampas grass, does Rufino Valdezbreathe freely. Then his nerves becoming braced by the anger whichburns within--a fierce rage, from the old hatred of jealousy,interrupted by this new and bitter disappointment, the thwarting of ascheme, so far successful, but still only half accomplished--he givesutterance to a string of blasphemous anathemas, with threats, incorrespondence.
"_Carajo_!" he cries, winding up with the mildest of his profaneexclamations. "Ride on, senores, and get soon home! While there, behappy as you best may. Ha, ha! there won't be much merriment in thatnest now, with the young chick out of it--pet bird of the flock; norlong before the whole brood be called upon to forsake it. Soon as I canget to Assuncion and back with a dozen of our _quarteleros_, ah! won'tthere be a wiping out of old scores then? If that young fool,Naraguana's son, hadn't shown so chicken-hearted, I might have settledthem now; gone home with captives, too, instead of empty-handed. Well,it won't be so long to wait. Let me see. Three days will take me toAssuncion--less if this animal under me wasn't so near worn out; threemore to return with the troop. Say a week in all; at the end of which,if there be a man named Caspar Mendez in the land of the living, itwon't be he whose head I see out yonder. That will be off hisshoulders, or if on them only to help hold in its place the loop-end ofmy _lazo_. But I must make haste. For what if Halberger haverecognised me? I don't think he did or could; 'twas too dark. If hehave, what--ay, what? Of course they'll know that wasn't likely to bethe last of it, and that there's something more to come. They'd besimpletons not to think so; and thinking it, still greater fools if theydon't take some steps to flee away from this new roost they've beenperching upon. But whither can they? The young Tovas chief iscompromised with them--dead declared as their enemy so long as he keepsthat pretty creature captive in his toldo; and there are others of thetribe will stand by me, I know. The glass beads and other glisteningbaubles will secure the young, while a few golden onzas skilfullydistributed will do the same for the _sagamores_. No fear then, nofailure yet! With the Tovas on my side, there isn't a spot in the Chacoto shelter them. So, _caballeros_! you can keep on. In a week fromthis time, I hope to hold an interview with you, less distant and moresatisfactory to myself."
After delivering this quaint rigmarole, he sits watching them till theirheads finally sink below the sea of grass, the rheas feathers inCaspar's high crowned hat being the last to disappear, as it were wavingback defiance and to the death!
Soon as they are out of sight, and he no longer fears an encounter withhis old enemy, Valdez turns to the consideration of some other thingswhich have appeared strange to him. At first, why they are riding soslowly, for as long as seen they were proceeding in a walking-gaitrarely witnessed upon the pampas, and never where the horseman is agaucho; for he gallops if it were but to the stream, within a stone'sthrow of his solitary cabin, to fetch a jar of water!
"Nothing in that," he mutters, "now I come to think of it. Only naturalthey should be going at snail's pace. _Carrai_! the wonder is the_gringo_ being able for even that, or go at all. I thought I'd givenhim his _quietus_, for surely I sent my spear right through his ribs!It must have struck button, or buckle, or something, and glinted off.Mad fool of me, when I had him down, not to make sure of my work! Well,it's no use blubbering about it now. Next time I'll take better carehow the thing's done."
After a short pause, he resumes his strain of interrogative conjecturenow on anoth
er matter, which has also struck him as being strange.
"Why are they going off that way, I wonder? It isn't their direct routehomeward, surely? I don't know the exact spot where the _gringo_ hasestablished himself; but didn't Aguara say the nearest way to it isalong the river's bank, down to their old _tolderia_? If so, certainlythey're making a round about. Ha! I fancy I know the reason; natural,too, as the other. The Senor Ludwig must have known they were Tovas whoattacked him, and under the belief that they've gone on to their formerplace of abode, dreads a second encounter with them. No wonder heshould, having found them such treacherous allies--enemies instead offriends. Ha, ha, ha! won't that puzzle him? Of course, he hasn't yetheard of Naraguana's death--couldn't--they all said so. Well, it's abit of good luck for me their going that round. My road lies directdown the river, and now I may proceed upon it without fear of beingspied by them. That would never do just yet. They shall have sight ofme soon enough--sooner than they'll like it. And this reminds me Imustn't waste any more time here; it's too precious. Now off, and hometo El Supremo, who'll jump with very joy at the news I have for him."
Giving his horse a touch of the spur, he heads him along the high bank,still keeping within the skirt of timber, and riding slowly through thetangle of obstructing bushes; but at length getting out upon the oldtrail, where it goes down to the ford, he turns along it, in theopposite direction, towards the deserted _tolderia_. And now, withnothing further to obstruct him, he plies the spur vigorously, and keepson at full gallop, not looking ahead, however, but with eyes all thewhile scanning the plain to his left, apprehensively, as fearing thereto see a tall black hat, with a bunch of ostrich feathers floating aboveit.
