Gaspar the Gaucho: A Story of the Gran Chaco

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Gaspar the Gaucho: A Story of the Gran Chaco Page 29

by Mayne Reid


  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

  A ROCK-BOUND SLEEPING ROOM.

  As the darkness, due to the storm, has now been succeeded by the morenatural darkness of night, the trackers, for this day, cannot proceedfurther, were they ever so eager. Besides, there is another bar totheir continuing; one still more directly obstructive, even forbiddingtheir exit from the cave. This, the _arroyo_, which now in full floodfills the ravine up to the cliff's base, there leaving no path foreither man or horse. That by which they approached is covered beyondfording depth, with a current so swift as to sweep the strongest animalfrom its feet, even were it an elephant. And to attempt reaching theopposite side by swimming, would only result in their getting carrieddown to be drowned to a certainty, or have the life crushed out of themon the rocks below.

  Gaspar knowing all this, does not dream of making any such rashexperiment. On the contrary, as he has signified, he designs them toremain all night in the cavern. Indeed, there is no alternative, as heobserves, explaining how egress is forbidden, and assuring them thatthey are, in point of fact, as much prisoners as though the doors of ajail were shut and locked upon them.

  Their imprisonment, however, need not last till the morning; so far asthe flood is concerned. And this he also makes known to them, himselfaware that the waters in the _arroyo_, will subside as rapidly as theyhad risen. It is one of those short rivulets, whose floods are overalmost as soon as the rain which causes them. Looking out again nearthe hour of midnight, they see his prediction verified. The lateswollen and fast-rushing stream has become reduced to nearly its normaldimensions, and runs past in gentle ripple, while the moon shining fullupon it, shows not a flake of foam.

  They could even now pass out of the cave, and on up the cliff where theycame down, if they desired to do so. More, they might with such a clearmoon, return to the river's bank and continue on along the trail theyhad forsaken. A trail so plain as it, could be followed in a light farmore faint; at least, so think they. So believing, Cypriano, as everimpatient to get on, is greatly inclined to this course, and chafes atthe irksomeness of delay. But Gaspar objects, giving his reasons.

  "If we were to go on now," he says, "it wouldn't better us a bit. Allwe'd gain by it would be the league or so from this to the river. Oncethere, and attempting to travel up its bank, we'd find scores of littlecreeks that run into it, in full freshet, and have to swim our horsesacross them. That would only lose time, instead of gaining it. Now, bydaybreak, they'll all be down again, when we can travel straight onwithout being delayed by so many stoppages. I tell you, Senor Cypriano,if we start now, it'll be only to find the old saying true, `More haste,worse speed.'"

  He to whom this speech is addressed perceives the application of theadage, and admitting it, yields the point.

  "Besides," adds the gaucho, by way of clinching his argument, "we've gotto spend part of the night somewhere, and have some sleep. If we keepon without that, it may end in our breaking dead down, which would beworse than being a little behind time. We all stand in need of restnow. Speaking for myself, I want it badly; and I'm sure so does MasterLudwig and you too, _senorito_! If we were to leave the cave, and seekfor it anywhere outside, we'd find the ground soaking wet, and, likeenough, every one of us get laid up with a spell of rheumatics. Herewe'll be as snug as a _biscacha_ in its hole; and, I take it, will sleepundisturbed by the squalling of any more cats."

  As Cypriano makes no further opposition, it is decided that they remainin the cave till morning.

  The little incident as above, with the conversation which accompaniesit, does not take place immediately after the tiger had been disposedof; for they have eaten supper since. By good luck, some sticks werefound in the cave, half-burnt faggots, the remains of a fire no doubtleft by a party of Indian hunters, who had also spent a night there.With these they were enabled to boil their kettle, and make a _mate_ oftheir favourite _yerba_ tea; while the "knuckle" of mutton and somecakes of corn bread still left, needed no cooking. It is after all thiswas over, and they had been some time conversing on the many strangeincidents which occurred to them throughout the day, that they becameaware of the flood having fallen, and escape from their rock-boundprison possible. Then succeeded the discussion recorded.

  At its termination, as nothing more can be done, and all feelingfatigued, to go to rest is naturally the next move. Their horses havealready been attended to by the removal of the riding gear, while somerough grass found growing against the cliff, near the cave's entranceoutside, has been cut and carried in to them.

  A slight grooming given to the animals, and it but remains to make theirown beds. This done, by simply spreading their _jergas_ and_caronillas_ along the flinty stalagmites, each having his own _recado_for a pillow. Their ponchos, long since pulled apart, and the dustcuffed out of them, are to serve for what they really are--blankets; apurpose to which at night they are put by all gauchos and mostArgentinos--as much as they are used during day time for cloak orgreatcoat.

  Each wrapping himself up in his own, all conversation ceases, and sleepis sought with closed eyes. This night it is found by them in asuccession somewhat changed. As on that preceding, Ludwig is firstasleep; but almost instantly after it is Gaspar, not Cypriano, whosurrenders to the drowsy god; filling the hollow cavity with hissnoring, loud as that often heard to proceed from the nostrils of atapir. He well knows they are safe within that rock-bound chamber;besides that he is tired dead down with the day's exertion; hence his sosoon becoming oblivious.

  Cypriano is the last to yield. But he, too, at length gives way, andall is silent within the cavern, save the "crump-crump" of the horsesmunching their coarse provender, with now and then a hoof striking thehard rock. But louder than all is that raucous reverberation sent up bythe slumbering gaucho.

 

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