Our course had lain eastward all day, and the sun was fast sinking to the western horizon, whence we had come, when an exclamation from one of the rancheros, who had risen to see to the perfect security of the horses, drew our attention to a point whither he directed our view, by a motion of the arm. Long and intense was the gaze, but our European eyes could discover nothing, till a telescope was obtained from the traveling case of one of my friends, which soon satisfied us that a large body of horsemen were advancing rapidly along the very track we had come.
It was a moment of deep anxiety—what was to be done? Were we to wait and take the chance of its being a friendly tribe of Indians or travelers? We could not have a chance of escape on the jaded horses we had so hardly tasked during the day, so, from inevitable necessity, we determined, friend or, foe, to await them where we were. Rapid were the preparations made to fight, in case they proved to be enemies. The horses were saddled, some spare arms furnished to the guides, and rifles and pistols being looked to, each man beside his horse, and drawn up in line, we awaited the result. Nearer and nearer they approached; the lower edge of the sun had dipped beneath the horizon, and anxiously we prayed for darkness, when the guides pronounced the advancing party to be strange Indians. Still clear light remained, and onward yet they came. Their very number was appalling; sixty at least were in view, and as they bent forward over their horses, and urged them on, the wild gestures of their arms seemed to announce our doom, and to forewarn us that our bones would bleach on the wild Pampas of Central America.
It was no time, however, for reflection. Their yells sounded in our ears, and they advanced in a dense body within two hundred paces of the position we had taken. Then came a halt, and out from the main body rode a single Indian. The savage strode his horse without saddle or any other appurtenance than a raw hide strap, formed into a bridle, with which he managed his steed. His arms consisted of a bow and arrows, slung across his back, with a long hunting-knife and heavy tomahawk suspended from his belt; his followers were mounted and armed like their chief, none possessing fire-arms.
Slowly he rode forward some hundred yards nearer than his people, till he paused in a position where the rifle of any of the party could have ended his days. But we were in no position to commence hostilities, so we wisely refrained from such a useless sacrifice of life. We still had a hope that the tribe in whose presence we were, formed no part of that whose chief fell in the morning; and, in order to ascertain the fact, one of the guides addressed the chief in a patois of the Indian tongue, but—although the attempt was renewed by the two others, it called forth no response. He still continued calmly gazing at us.
Suddenly, as if actuated by a passing thought, he wheeled his horse round, and joined his followers. Then, indeed, his voice was heard, clear and distinct, and, from his commanding gestures, it was apparent that he exercised supreme sway over the assembled warriors. At his word the crowd dissolved, and keeping without the range of our rifles, they formed a circle around us. It was no time for indecision; so, mounting our horses, we formed a double line, back to back, each man with his rifle or pistols ready. Then, indeed, imagination alone can depict the fierce war-cries that issued from all around us, the rush of horses, and the cloud of arrows that threatened annihilation to all. One of my English companions fell from his horse at the first discharge. We returned the fire with some effect, and, as a last hope, each for himself, dashed fearlessly on the line as they closed upon us.
Darkness was just setting in, so our hope was to escape singly, and make the best of our way back to the hacienda, if successful. The rush was fearful. The bright knives of two enemies, on whom I dashed, glared in my eyes; but fire-arms again proved their superiority: one fell, and the stroke of the other but wounded my horse. Maddened with the pain of the wound it had received, the noble horse I rode plunged forward, and, at a tremendous speed, swept me in a moment beyond reach of a few stray arrows aimed at me.
Still, yet still, I had a chance for my life. I thought of my companions, but darkness hid every thing, beyond the space of a few yards, from my view. On, on I dashed, plunging the long spurs, with which my heels were armed, into the side of my willing steed. I could perceive, by the voices behind, that many were in pursuit, and after a mile or so had been passed over, I clearly discerned the voices gaining on me, and from an occasional stagger of my horse, ascertained, but too truly, that loss of blood was making him faint.
By this time it was completely dark, day having passed away with usual tropical rapidity, and my resolve was made. Throwing myself on my feet, I struck the noble brute that so far had saved me, and abandoned him to his own head. Relieved of my weight, I depended on his keeping on some distance before he could be overtaken by my pursuers. At the same time, placing myself on my face, I trusted to being passed over undiscovered—concealed, as I was, by the long grass. A minute had but elapsed, when at least a score of horsemen rushed past, on either side of me, inflicting no injury, but evidently urging, in the pursuit, their comrades by voice and gesture.
When their voices could no longer be heard, I arose from my reclining posture, and struck off at an angle from the course they had gone. I toiled, with difficulty, through the long pampa-grass, encumbered as I was, and had not proceeded more than a couple of miles, when voices again drew near, and I had to conceal myself as before. Once more they passed, but at some distance; and I then concluded they had overtaken my horse, and discovered the escape of its rider. This nerved me to further exertion, as I felt satisfied the strictest search would be made, particularly as I was known to be an Englishman—and in those wild regions that name is almost universally connected with wealth—so that, for the sake of plunder alone, no exertion was likely to be spared to effect my capture.
Onward, therefore, I forced my way, pushing aside the rank, dry herbage, and, attracted by a sudden bright glare, casting my eyes behind, the appalling fact was at once apparent, that the pampas had been fired by the Indians, for the purpose of destroying myself and any others that might have escaped the first onslaught.