Several times they were particularly anxious to know if I had friends in Mendoza, and who were the persons that would receive me on the arrival of the troop in that town. I at last found it necessary to introduce to their consideration a character as new to myself as he was to them. One night, when we were lying around the fires, I, after describing my home and friends, casually remarked that one of them, a medico, the distinguished Dr. Carmel, of Mendoza, was anxiously awaiting my arrival, and that his apprehensions for my safety would increase until I reached the town.
To the reader whose conscience has never been subjected to violence, this subterfuge may appear unmanly; but, in justice to myself, I was obliged thus to impose upon the peons, and the result fully proved it.
Under Dr. Carmel’s strong (prospective) arm and influence I found more peaceful hours, and suffered less from annoyance than if his name had never been mentioned, or if the villanous fellows had been left in their first belief; which at the same time was correct, that I was a friendless gringo, to whom they might offer any insult without fear of punishment. In what manner was I, a solitary stripling, to protect myself against more than a score of barbarians, in the very heart of a country to the languages and localities of which I was a total stranger, unless by subterfuge?
But my troubles were not yet over.
While walking, as usual, one day, in advance of the carts, which came slowly creaking behind, my attention was directed to Juan, the little son of my female friend, who came running after me. Juan spoke only broken Spanish; but upon reaching my side he commenced a voluble discourse, which, however, I gave little notice to, supposing it to be merely childish prattle. At length the boy took my hand, and demanded my attention.
From what he said, I could, indeed, glean but little; but it was enough to confirm my suspicions, which I had had for some time, that some rascality was being planned by the drivers. From mispronounced words and broken sentences, I received warning not to eat with the capataz at the fire,—“Sta malo no come con él,”—and to be cautious when with the men. Juan said that his mother had sent him to tell me this. The little fellow was about to communicate something further regarding his mother, when he suddenly became silent, and squeezed my hand. I looked around, and beheld Chico, the servant of the capataz, close upon our heels; he had stealthily approached, without attracting our notice.
“Why do you walk?” interrogated little Juan.
To this question the swarthy Chico, half Indian, half negro, made no answer; but he uttered a sly laugh, that meant a good deal. We walked on for upwards of an hour, during which time the half-breed kept close behind us.
Watching favorable opportunities, Juan informed me that the capataz had sent his servant to prevent us from conversing; and seeing that he was determined to remain by us, I at length, with the boy, rejoined the troop.
When the caravan halted for the night, I walked over to the fire where the China woman was seated; but two or three gauchos from our own fire followed me, and engaged the woman in conversation.