"As if he'd done it before," said one, a big fellow with long black hair and a melancholy way about him. "Fresh and young, comrades, and new to the pampas. You can see he does not mind being told how things are done. What was the story Pietro was telling?"
A comrade repeated it, and at once the gaucho strode up to the young Englishman as he was gathering thistle tops. When Dudley glanced up, there was the gaucho, still with the same melancholy air, his head hanging forward, and one huge brown palm stretched in front. He shook it, and, interpreting the signal, Dudley stepped up, gripped the strong fingers, and shook them with vigor.
"We're friends, I see," he said quietly, for he seemed to feel at once that the big gaucho wished to be pleasant. "It's kind of you to come."
"I'm foreman out here, and I thought I'd like to show you that all are not like Giono. Señor, you are welcome! All my comrades are glad to see you. I bear a message from them. They ask you to repeat the shot you made this morning."
"I'll try," was the ready answer. "When it is light enough to-morrow, I'll do my best to please you."
They nodded to one another, and our hero returned to his employer with a bundle of thistle tops under his arm. In a few seconds the flames were shooting up, and in a little while the two were seated by them, each with a ramrod in his hand, and a fine steak of deer flesh on the far end. It was all so new to Dudley, and he found this open-air life most fascinating. He could see now why Mr. Blunt loved it, why he declared that he was free out on the pampas, and why a man could be a man when living such a life.
"Even the food we cook out here is sweeter to me," exclaimed Mr. Blunt, as they chatted after their meal. "I would not change the dinner we prepare for the daintiest repast to be had in London or in Paris. As to the sleeping accommodation, well, you yourself will appreciate the difference when once we get back to the house. Here one breathes pure air, the invigorating breath of the pampas. A house stifles me at first. I feel as if the ceiling were falling on to me."
Half an hour later they turned in, and Dudley found that his unaccustomed bed was more than comfortable. On Mr. Blunt's advice he kicked a hollow in the ground to accommodate his hips, and on stretching himself out, and pulling the blanket over him, he found that he had a couch at which the most fastidious could not have grumbled. On either side of his head were the flaps of his saddle, but up above there was nothing to shut him in, and for a while he stared up at the brilliant stars, while he listened to the strange sounds of the pampas. Now and again there was a low call from one watching gaucho to another, and then perhaps the deep lowing of cattle. Sometimes the earth trembled for a few seconds with the stamping of a hundred feet, and then all was silent, save for the chirrup of the crickets. He fell into a deep sleep, and only stirred when the sun shone in his eyes in the early morning. Mr. Blunt was already afoot, tending to the kettle steaming over the fire, while at various points, around the enormous herd of beasts, groups of gauchos, still swathed in their blankets, squatted over the fires and discussed their breakfasts. As for the cattle, they seemed to be in a restless mood, and kept their guards galloping to and fro, cracking their long whips and shouting. Indeed, less than ten minutes later, as Dudley and his friend were eating their meal, the noise from the herd became deafening. Every animal seemed to be bellowing, there was much movement in the far corner of the group, and then of a sudden the animals broke away. Men shouted, whips snapped like pistols, and in a trice, as if the word had been passed through the heaving ranks, some two thousand bullocks, heifers, and calves were charging down upon the two who crouched over the fire. The sight brought Mr. Blunt and Dudley to their feet promptly.
"They have broken away!" exclaimed the former quickly. "They do sometimes, and give a great deal of trouble, besides being a positive danger. Stay where you are, my lad. The horses are too far for us to reach them, and it is useless to run."
They stood watching the herd anxiously, hoping that the gauchos, all of whom had rushed to their horses, would be able to check the beasts. The men threw themselves on the flank of the herd with vigor, and sent their stinging lashes trailing over the beasts, while they shouted and shrieked so as to frighten them and get them to move in the opposite direction. But they might almost as well have hoped to move a mountain. The mass of beasts had taken a sudden and unaccountable fright, and bore down upon Dudley and Mr. Blunt with all their force and speed.