Out on the Pampas; Or, The Young Settlers

by G. A. Henty

‘Halt!’ Mr. Hardy shouted, and the boys instantly drew rein. ‘Jump off, boys. Only our heads have shown against the sky. They can hardly have noticed them. There, hold my horse; loosen the saddle-girths of yours too, and let them breathe freely. Take the bridles out of their mouths. It seemed to me, by the glimpse I got of our enemies, that they were just stopping. I am going on to make sure of it.’

So saying, Mr. Hardy again went forward a short distance, going on his hands and knees as he came on to the crest of the rise, in order that his head might not show above the long grass. When he reached it, he saw at once that his first impression had been correct. At a distance of a little over a mile a mass of animals were collected, and round them were scattered a number of horses, while figures of men were moving among them.

‘It is as I thought, boys,’ he said when he rejoined his sons. ‘They have stopped for a while. The animals must all be completely done up; they cannot have come less than thirty miles, and will require three or four hours’ rest, at the least, before they are fit to travel again. One hour will do for our horses. Rinse their mouths out with a little water, and let them graze if they are disposed: in half an hour we will give them each a double handful of Indian corn.’

Having attended to their horses, which they hobbled to prevent their straying, Mr. Hardy and the boys sat down and made a slight meal. None of them felt very hungry, the excitement of the approaching attack having driven away the keen appetite that they would have otherwise gained from their ride; but Mr. Hardy begged the boys to endeavour to eat something, as they would be sure to feel the want of food later.

The meal over, Mr. Hardy lit his favourite pipe, while the boys went cautiously up the hill to reconnoitre. There was no change; most of the animals were lying down, and there was little sign of movement. Two or three Indians, however, were standing motionless and rigid by their horses’ sides, evidently acting as sentries. The boys thought that hour the longest that they had ever passed. At last, however, their father looked at his watch, shook the ashes out of his pipe and put it in his pocket. ‘Now, boys, it is five minutes to the hour. Examine your carbines and revolvers, see that everything is in order, and that there is no hitch. Tighten the saddle-girths and examine the buckles. See that your ammunition and spare carbine chambers are ready at hand.’

In another five minutes the party were in their saddles.

‘Now, boys, my last words. Don’t ride ahead or lag behind: regulate your pace by mine. Look out for armadillo holes,—they are more dangerous than the Indians. Remember my orders: on no account use the second chamber of your carbines unless in case of great urgency. Change the chambers directly you have emptied them, but don’t fire a shot until the spare ones are charged again. Now, boys, hurrah for old England!’

‘Hurrah!’ the boys both shouted as they started at a canter up the rise. As they caught sight of the Indians, everything was quiet as before; but in another moment they saw the men on watch throw themselves on to their horses’ backs, figures leapt up from the grass and ran towards their horses, and in little over a minute the whole were in motion.

‘Surely they are not going to run away from three men!’ Charley said in a disgusted tone.

‘They won’t run far, Charley,’ Mr. Hardy said quietly. ‘By the time that we are half-way to them they will see that we can have no one with us, and then they will come on quickly enough.’