This man’s career had been somewhat remarkable. A sailor first, then variously employed, and now a “breaker in” of wild colts and mules, he possessed the faculty of adapting himself to all circumstances peculiar to the true North American. His experiences had been varied, and he well illustrated in his career the truth of the old adage, “A rolling stone gathers no moss.” He was thoroughly conversant with all the peculiarities of pampa life; had observed well the habits of the birds and animals that live on the plains; was an adept in throwing the lasso, and mastering wild colts and horses.
“You are here after information, I guess?” interrogated my new friend. “If so, come with me for a few days, and I will show you how to be a gaucho. My shoulders are lame with being tossed in the saddle while breaking colts; but the job is through with for a while, and I’d just like to show you about.”
“But you have only one horse,” I replied. “Where can I find another?”
“Never mind,” responded Don Daniel, as my friend styled himself. “Jest you mount him; I can get another: I’ve lots of friends around the river, and any one will find me a hoss: if it comes to the wust (worst), I can find one myself.”
An extra blanket was furnished me from the house, and I placed myself at the disposal of Don Daniel.
The little iron-gray stallion that was to carry me into a strange land pawed and curvetted, and seemed anxious to be off. The alforjas, or saddle-bags, had been well filled by my lovely hostess. Don Daniel’s chifles, or water-vessels, consisted of two cow’s horns, one of which he filled with water for his new amigo, Don Yankee; the other he filled at a store with aguardiente for himself.
“Don Yankee,” said he, as he busied himself about this important matter, “you have come from Boston, the home of temperance doctrines: stick to your colors, and don’t mistake this horn”—pointing to the one filled with liquor—“for the one filled with water, as there will not be more than enough for myself. I take it for my lame shoulders by an internal application.”
“Ejo mio, adios” (God be with you, my son)! exclaimed the kind-hearted señora. “Don’t fall into a biscacha hole,” warned her husband; and we were off.
Don Daniel bestrode a good-looking horse, that he had contrived to find somewhere. “Hurry!” said he, clapping spurs to his animal, as we turned a corner. “If that lazy porteño sees us, there will be no hoss for Don Daniel.”
Although we were moving at quite a rapid pace, I remonstrated with my companion against his using other people’s horses without their consent.