They reached the western corral about ten o'clock, and found the branding already under way. Several dozen peon gauchos had assembled and they had driven the horses to be branded into an enclosure.
"See, Niño, these are all young animals; they have never had the iron on them."
"Why do you brand them, Uncle Juan? Your estancia is so large surely they could not stray on to a neighbour's ranch; and then the gauchos watch them carefully?"
"Yes, but there are so many thousands that, despite the best of care, our horses stray away occasionally. Before every yearly round-up, we send peons to all the neighbouring ranches to gather in the strayed ones; and if our brand is on them there is never any question as to their owner. I am gradually having the outskirts of the estancia enclosed in barbed wire fencing, but it is so many leagues around that it is no easy matter. But look, see how they catch them!"
They were using the bolas, and although Francisco had often seen them in the shop windows, he had never seen them in use. They are an aboriginal device for lassoing cattle and horses. They consist each of three stone balls covered with leather and all attached to long thongs, two of which are longer than the third. The ends of these thongs are attached together and when the gaucho uses them he raises his hand holding these ends above his head and whirls them around and around to gather momentum, then opening his hand the weapon flies away to coil itself about the feet of the animal that he wishes to lasso. These gauchos are so skilful in the use of the bolas that their aim is unerring, and although it sometimes bruises the captive's legs, it is a most convenient method for catching a fleet-footed horse or cow.
"BLAZED THE LINES OF THE TRES ARROYAS ON ITS HIP"
When the gaucho in the enclosure had caught a horse by this means, he immediately pulled it to the ground. A peon sat on its neck while another held it by a rope around its fore-legs, and a third blazed the lines of the Tres Arroyas brand on its hip. The mark was in the shape of a horseshoe, inside of which was a cross; and at least ten of these groups were busy all of the time, burning it on the young animals.
"What do you raise these wild horses for, Uncle Juan?" inquired Francisco, who had not missed one single detail of the performance. "They are not fine horses like Barboza here," and he patted his steed's neck affectionately.
"No, they are not, by any means. These wild horses are raised for their hides mainly, although very little of them goes to waste when they are skinned. Look over yonder, near that cluster of mud huts, where the hides are drying in the air and sun."