Roughriders of the Pampas: A Tale of Ranch Life in South America

by F. S. Brereton

"One moment, señor! Perhaps the gauchos of this man we have seen suspect that you do not like them. Perhaps they have been instructed to watch you till you are on our own estancia. Look at the forest. A hundred men might be there, and would see us at once if we turned. It would be better and wiser perhaps if the señor made his camp close to here, and then to-night we could mount and ride back till we were in the forest."

The handsome fellow lifted his hat deprecatingly, as if to apologize for so boldly venturing his advice. But Dudley was not the one to feel injured, particularly when he remembered that Pepito had been brought up on the pampas, and knew every trick.

"Excellent, Pepito!" he cried. "Just ride round as if you were hunting for a likely spot, and then we will camp. Get the fire going, picket the horses, and when darkness comes send out the guards. If anyone has crept up close by, then they will see us settled for the night. We will wait three hours before setting off."

The gaucho gave a vigorous nod of his head, and in a moment was cantering away, his eyes searching diligently for a favorable camping site. Not that there was much difference in the surroundings, for the pampas spread on every hand, sweeping away in long and slightly rolling knolls covered with waving grass right to the horizon, save in the direction from which the party had just come. There a dense line of dark forest cut across the low skyline, the forest behind which lay the estancia of the individual whom they had so recently visited. Dudley stood in his stirrups for some minutes, watching the long green band, wondering whether there was ground for his suspicions, whether the man who lived at the neighboring estancia were honest, and merely possessed of an unfortunate and surly manner; or whether he were indeed a rogue, who harbored rascals, and organized the constant raids from which the ranchers suffered.

"Honest or not, I feel it my duty to look into the matter," he said aloud. "If he is a respectable person, then no harm will have been done, for I shall take pains to keep out of sight of him and of his men. If he is a rascal, why, then, perhaps I shall be able to open the eyes of Mr. Blunt. He would be surprised to hear that the attacks which he imagines are organized in Montevideo are really the work of a neighbor. And if that is actually the case, then I fancy that within a little while we shall be able to put a stop to any repetition of the trouble, and perhaps even may see the end of this vendetta which has dogged his footsteps for so many years, and which has so constantly threatened his life."

"Then you return and pay a second visit?"

It was Harold who asked the question, with a strange glint in his eyes, and so suddenly that Dudley started. "I believe that you are on the right track, and that the gentleman behind those trees is a rascal. Dud, it would be fine to do something for our employer. He has been good and kind to you, and to me he has been even more. I'd do a lot to pay him back in some manner."

"Then you shall have the opportunity," answered Dudley promptly. "If we are right, this little business will be dangerous, for if they are rascals over there they will shoot us on sight. We must chance that, and I swear that we will not return till we have cleared up the matter. Ah! Pepito has found a camping ground for us, so we will dismount."

They slipped out of their saddles and led their horses to the pool which lay within a hundred yards of the spot. Then the usual routine of the camp was carried out. The horses were picketed, fed, and groomed. Saddles were placed in a row close to the fire, while Harold rolled his sleeves to the elbow, produced his pots and pans, and commenced to prepare the evening meal. And all the while one of the gauchos slowly walked his horse in a wide circle round the camp, as was the usual custom, his eyes constantly roving the pampas, for the camp lay on the border of the Indian country. On this occasion the gaucho cast many a glance towards the forest, as if he, too, were suspicious of the men living beyond that dark barrier. Once even, as if he had seen something suspicious, the active fellow clambered to his feet, and stood to his full height on the saddle, one hand over his eyes to shade them from the light. But evidently he was satisfied at length, for he slid down again and rode away to the opposite side of the camp.