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

by F. S. Brereton

The man's words were uttered in a loud, coarse voice and there was not the slightest doubt as to his unfriendly intentions. He was a taciturn, surly fellow, governed by caprice, and apt to take sudden and strong dislikes which often were simply the outcome of childish jealousy. From his youngest days he had always made a point of falling foul of men who were obviously his betters, or who were more favored than he. Even Mr. Blunt was an eyesore to him, for was he not a wealthy man? But his dislike there was cloaked to some extent, for a gaucho must live, and an employer found the wages. Here, however, there was a difference. Why should he, Giono, the biggest and the most feared of the gauchos, knuckle down to this young Englishman, with his smooth, beardless face, who had come undoubtedly with the object of helping Mr. Blunt and becoming a second master? No, there was nothing to fear in this case, and if he could terrorize and upset the dignity of this gringo, why, all the better.

"You understand? The butt of a big revolver, and the bigger it is the better, is a fine thing to have sticking from one's pocket. Fine clothes make fine birds, they say, and so they do up to a point. That's the point we've come to. Fine togs such as you have don't help a gringo to shoot, no more than do big spurs help him to ride."

Dudley felt like replying to these boastful words, but he restrained himself, and turning to Pietro said: "It is good of you to support me, and I fear that you have been rather rash. But let me remind you that, though you have told me what you two are to give to each other, you have not yet let me know what you expect of me."

"When you hear you will be sure of his rashness," burst in Giono. "The task is this, I say that you will not hit the pith ball of a bolas placed on a fence thirty paces away. Here is a bolas, and here the pith ball."

He turned to one of his companions and dragged the coil of rope from his shoulders with rough lack of ceremony. Dudley had seen the implement before, and did not need to look. This bolas is one of the most useful possessions of the gauchos and of the Indians, for it is to them what the lasso in more northern parts is to the cowboy. But it differs somewhat in construction, for, whereas the lasso consists of a long coil of rope with a slip noose at the end, the bolas has no noose. One end has three tails of rope attached to it, and at the ends of two of these is secured a heavy stone or a piece of lead or iron. To the third is attached a lighter ball made of pith.

"See," cried Giono, "that is the mark, a mark which I could hit with my left hand, or when standing on my head. I say that you will not hit it under the most favorable circumstances."

Force of habit caused him to hang the coil over his left palm, while he gripped the pith ball with his right hand and swung the leaden balls about his head till they whizzed through the air. For this was the way in which the gauchos wielded what was an instrument of great value, and at times a dangerous weapon to their enemies. They would gallop at headlong pace across the pampas, swing the bolas, and launch it at a horse or cow they desired to capture, and with such unerring aim that the balls would fly straight for the legs of the animal, and in a moment the rope or the plaited thongs to which they were made fast would be hopelessly twined round the limbs.

"Perhaps the English señor will tell us that he is able to cast the bolas," sang out Giono, mistaking Dudley's silence for weakness, and imagining that, now that he knew the task expected of him, he was anxious to withdraw. "Perhaps he would prefer to have another wager laid on the throwing of the bolas."

There was a sneer in the man's voice, and an insolent, browbeating manner about him which made Pietro's eyes blaze, for he had taken a fancy to Dudley, while the latter had some difficulty in restraining his own warm temper.

"Thank you," he answered with composure, his common sense telling him that it was this man's aim and object to rouse him, and therefore his own to keep unusually cool. "I would rather shoot, for I confess that I have never used the bolas. I think I may be able to use this big revolver which has attracted your notice. And now the task. I have to hit the pith ball, and so have you. There will be no difficulty for you, for you tell us that you could strike it even if standing on your head. Afterwards we will try a shot at the pith ball as it flies in the air. Our friend Pietro shall take the bolas over there and cast it at the trunk of the tree nearest the well. You and I will take post twenty paces from the well, and fire as the ball passes."