Out on the Pampas; Or, The Young Settlers

by G. A. Henty

THE party started at a canter,—the pace which they knew their horses would be able to keep up for the longest time,—breaking every half hour or so into a walk for ten minutes, to give them breathing time. All were well mounted on strong, serviceable animals; but these had not in all cases been bought specially for speed, as had those of the Hardys. It was evident that the chase would be a long one. The Indians had twelve hours’ start; they were much lighter men than the whites, and carried less additional weight. Their horses, therefore, could travel as fast and as far as those of their pursuers. The sheep would, it is true, be an encumbrance; the cattle could scarcely be termed so; and it was probable that the first day they would make a journey of fifty or sixty miles, travelling at a moderate pace only, as they would know that no instant pursuit could take place. Indeed, their strength, which the peon had estimated at five hundred men, would render them to a certain extent careless, as upon an open plain the charge of this number of men would sweep away any force which could be collected short of obtaining a strong body of troops from Rosario.

For the next two days it was probable that they would make as long and speedy journeys as the animals could accomplish. After that, being well in their own country, they would cease to travel rapidly, as no pursuit had ever been attempted in former instances.

There was no difficulty in following the track. Mr. Mercer had possessed nearly a thousand cattle and five thousand sheep, and the ground was trampled in a broad, unmistakeable line. Once or twice Mr. Hardy consulted his compass. The trail ran south-west by west.

There was not much talking. The whole party were too impressed with the terrible scene they had witnessed, and the tremendously hazardous nature of the enterprise they had undertaken, to indulge in general conversation. Gradually, however, the steady rapid motion, the sense of strength and reliance in themselves and each other, lessened the sombre expression, and a general talk began, mostly upon Indian fights, in which most of the older settlers had at one time or other taken a part.

Mr. Hardy took a part in and encouraged this conversation. He knew how necessary, in an expedition of this sort, it was to keep up the spirits of all engaged; and he endeavoured, therefore, to shake off his own heavy weight of care, and to give animation and life to them all.

The spirits of the younger men rose rapidly, and insensibly the pace was increased, until Mr. Hardy, as leader of the party, was compelled to recall to them the necessity of saving their animals, many of which had already come from ten to fifteen miles before arriving at the rendezvous at the Mercers’.

After three hours’ steady riding, they arrived at the banks of a small stream. There Mr. Hardy called a halt, for the purpose of resting the animals.

‘I think,’ he said, ‘that we must have done five-and-twenty miles. We will give them an hour’s rest, and then do another fifteen. Some of them have already done forty, and it will not do to knock them up the first day.’

Girths were loosened, and the horses were at work cropping the sweet grass near the water’s edge. The whole party threw themselves down on a sloping bank, pipes were taken out and lit, and the probable direction of the chase discussed.

In a short time Charley rose, and saying, ‘I will see if I can get anything better than dried meat for supper,’ exchanged his rifle for Mr. Hardy’s double-barrelled gun, which was carried by Terence, and whistling for the retriever, strolled off up the stream. In ten minutes the double-barrels were heard at a short distance, and a quarter of an hour afterwards again, but this time faintly. Ten minutes before the hour was up he appeared, wiping the perspiration from his face, with seven and a half brace of plump duck.