Gaspar the Gaucho: A Story of the Gran Chaco

by Mayne Reid

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

  CAUGHT IN A DUST-STORM.

  At the crisis described, the Indian party is no longer travelling uponthe Pilcomayo's bank, nor near it. They have parted from it at a pointwhere the river makes one of its grand curves, and are now crossing theneck of the peninsula embraced within its windings. This isthmus is inwidth at least twenty miles, and of a character altogether differentfrom the land lying along the river's edge. In short, a sterile,treeless expanse, or "travesia"--for such there are in the Chaco--notbarren because of infertility in the soil, but from the want of water tofertilise it. Withal, it is inundated at certain periods of the year bythe river's overflow, but in the dry season parched by the rays of atropical sun. Its surface is then covered with a white efflorescence,which resembles a heavy hoar frost; this, called _salitre_, being a sortof impure saltpetre, left after the evaporation and subsidence of thefloods.

  They have entered this cheerless waste, and are about midway across it,when the cry of alarm is heard; he who gave utterance to it being olderthan the others, and credited with greater knowledge of things. Thatwhich had caught his attention, eliciting the cry, is but a phenomenonof Nature, though not one of an ordinary kind; still, not so rare in theregion of the Chaco; since all of them have more than once witnessed it.But the thing itself is not yet apparent save to him who has shouted,and this only by the slightest sign giving portent of its approach. Forit is, in truth, a storm.

  Even after the alarmist has given out his warning note, and stands onhis horse's hips, gazing off in a certain direction, the others, lookingthe same way, can perceive nothing to account for his strange behaviour.Neither upon the earth, nor in the heavens, does there appear anythingthat should not be there. The sun is coursing through a cloudless sky,and the plain, far as eye can reach, is without animate object upon it;neither bird nor beast having its home in the _salitre_. Nothingobservable on that wide, cheerless waste, save the shadows of themselvesand their horses, cast in dark _silhouette_ across the hoary expanse,and greatly elongated; for it is late in the afternoon, and the sunalmost down to the horizon.

  "What is it?" asks Aguara, the first to speak, addressing himself to theIndian who gave out the cry. "You appear to apprehend danger?"

  "And danger there is, chief," returns the other. "Look yonder!" Hepoints to the level line between earth and sky, in the direction towardswhich they are travelling. "Do you not see something?"

  "No, nothing."

  "Not that brown-coloured stripe just showing along the sky's edge, low,as if it rested on the ground?"

  "Ah, yes; I see that. Only a little mist over the river, I should say."

  "Not that, chief. It's a cloud, and one of a sort to be dreaded. See!it's rising higher, and, it I'm not mistaken, will ere long cover thewhole sky."

  "But what do you make of it? To me it looks like smoke."

  "No; it isn't that either. There's nothing out that way to make fire--neither grass nor trees; therefore, it can't be smoke."

  "What, then? You appear to know!"

  "I do. 'Tis _dust_."

  "Dust! A drove of wild horses? Or may they be mounted? Ah! you thinkit's a party of Guaycurus?"

  "No, indeed. But something we may dread as much--ay, more--than them.If my eyes don't deceive me, that's a _tormenta_."

  "Ha!" exclaims the young cacique, at length comprehending. "A_tormenta_, you think it is?"

  The others of the band mechanically mutter the same word, in like tonesof apprehension. For although slow to perceive the sign, even yet butslightly perceptible, all of them have had experience of the danger.

  "I do, chief," answers he interrogated. "Am now sure of it."

  While they are still speaking it--the cloud--mounts higher against theblue background of sky, as also becomes more extended along the line ofthe horizon. Its colour, too, has sensibly changed, now presenting adun yellowish appearance, like that mixture of smoke and mist known as a"London fog." But it is somewhat brighter, as though it hung over,half-concealing and smothering, the flames of some grand conflagration.

  And as they continue regarding it, red corruscations begin to shootthrough its opaque mass, which they can tell to be flashes of lightning.Yet all this while, upon the spot where they have pulled up the sun isshining serenely, and the air still and tranquil as if gale or breezehad never disturbed it!

  But it is a stillness abnormal, unnatural, accompanied by a scorchingheat, with an atmosphere so close as to threaten suffocation.

  This, however, lasts but a short while. For in less than ten minutesafter the cloud was first descried, a wind reaches them blowing directlyfrom it at first, in puffs and gusts, but cold as though laden withsleet, and so strong as to sweep several of them from the backs of theirhorses. Soon after all is darkness above and around them. Darkness asof night; for the dust has drifted over the sun, and its disc is nolonger visible--having disappeared as in a total eclipse, but far moresuddenly.

  It is too late for them to retreat to any place of shelter, were oneever so near, which there is not. And well know they the danger ofbeing caught in that exposed spot; so well that the scene now exhibitedin their ranks is one of fright and confusion.

  Terrified exclamations are sent up on all sides, but only one voice ofwarning, this from him who had first descried the cloud.

  "From your horses!" he calls out, "take shelter behind them, and coveryour faces with your _jergas_! If you don't you'll be blindedoutright."

  His counsel acts as a command; though it is not needed, all of them, ashimself, sensible of the approaching peril. In a trice they havedropped to the ground, and plucking the pieces of skins which serve themas saddles, from the backs of their horses, muffle up their faces asadmonished. Then each clutching the halter of his own, and holding itso as to prevent the animal changing position, they await the onslaughtof the storm.

  Meanwhile, Aguara has not been inactive. Instead of having seized thepony's bridle-rein, he has passed round to the rear of the troop,leading his captive along with him; for the wind strikes them in front.There in the lee of all, better sheltered, he dismounts, flings his armsaround the unresisting girl, and sets her afoot upon the ground. Hedoes all this gently, as though he were a friend or brother! For he hasnot lost hope he may yet win her heart.

  "Star of my life," he says to her, speaking in the Tovas tongue, whichshe slightly understands. "As you see we're in some danger, but it willsoon pass. Meanwhile, we must take steps to guard against it. So,please to lie down, and this will protect you."

  While speaking, he takes the plumed cloak from his shoulders and spreadsit over those of the captive, at the same time covering her head withit, as if it were a hood. Then he gently urges her to lie on theground.

  To all she submits mechanically, and without offering opposition; thoughshe little cares about the dust-storm--whether it blind or altogetherdestroy her.

  Soon after it is on and over them in all its fury, causing their horsesto cower and kick, many screaming in affright or from the pain they haveto endure. For not only does the _tormenta_ carry dust with it, butsand, sticks, and stones, some of the latter so large and sharp as oftento inflict severe wounds. Something besides in that now assailing them;which sweeping across the _salitral_ has lifted the sulphureousefflorescence, that beats into their eyes bitter and blinding as thesmoke of tobacco. But for having muffled up their faces, more than oneof the party would leave that spot sightless, if not smothered outright.

  For nearly an hour the tempest continues, the wind roaring in theirears, and the dust and gravel clouting against their naked skins, nowand then a sharp angled pebble lacerating them. At times the blast isso strong they have difficulty in keeping their places; still more inholding their horses to windward. And all the while there is lightningand thunder, the last loud and rolling continuously. At length thewind, still keenly cold, is accompanied by a sleety rain, which poursupon them in torrents, chill as if coming direct from the snowy slopesof
the Cordilleras--as in all likelihood it does.

  They know that this is a sign of the _tormenta_ approaching its end,which soon after arrives; terminating almost as abruptly as it hadbegun. The dust disappears from the sky, that which has settled on theground now covering its surface with a thick coating of mud--convertedinto this by the rain--while the sun again shines forth in all itsglory, in a sky bright and serene as if cloud had never crossed it!

  The _tormenta_ is over, or has passed on to another part of the greatChaco plain.

  And now the Tovas youths, their naked skins well washed by the shower,and glistening like bronze fresh from the furnace--some of them,however, bleeding from the scratches they have received--spring upontheir feet, re-adjust the _jergas_ on the backs of their horses, andonce more remount.

  Then their young chief, by the side of the captive girl, having returnedto his place at their head, they forsake that spot of painfulexperience, and continue their journey so unexpectedly interrupted.