Blanco y Colorado: Old Days among the Gauchos of Uruguay

by William C. Tetley

It was getting late when we turned in, but as Turnor wished to make an early start on the morrow, I had already told Correo to get some coffee the first thing. Fortunately, he was always an early riser. The morning was fine, and the sun had but lately risen, when my visitor and his man mounted their horses and started on their way, the latter leading the spare horse, so that either could change to it as they went along.

During the afternoon Margarito arrived with a note to say that we were to have a "para rodeo" of the cattle on Saturday as usual, and a general gathering up of the horses on the Wednesday following. I therefore lost no time in advising our native neighbours, and getting them to come and help us. To make this doubly sure I rode next morning to pay a visit to two or three of the principal ones in person. Both the soldiers accompanied me with their lances, and the Blanco device on their hats and the white banner flying. When I arrived at the first native house I saw at once that I was about to make an impression. I thought the dogs barked if anything louder than usual as we sat on our horses calling out "Ave Maria," the usual form of salutation. For the moment no one appeared, but I saw signs of first one and then another woman or child peeping out through a window and so on. Then the front door was opened, and the master of the house appeared bare-headed, and with a bow desiring me to dismount. Whereupon I did so, and went into the house, the two soldiers meanwhile holding my horse outside. I delivered my message, and we discussed the war, and I was invited to have some refreshment, which I declined. When I thought sufficient time had elapsed I got up to leave, being accompanied outside by apparently the whole family. I then walked solemnly to my horse, mounted and signed to the two soldiers to move on, and altogether I flattered myself that I made a very dignified departure. The same mode of procedure took place at two other houses, each with the same satisfactory result. The fact was, we were getting very short of horses in our neighbourhood, and as hardly any of these people, friendly as they might appear on the surface, would have at all objected to coming inside our camp and picking up and carrying off any stray horse which, having been left there, would otherwise have proved useful to us, I thought it a good opportunity to let them know that, up at the Cerro I was in a position of some authority, and therefore not to be trifled with. On the Saturday the two soldiers went with us to the "para rodeo" of the cattle; "Napoleon" enjoyed himself greatly, and all went well.

Wednesday morning was fine, and we were all early on the move. I rode the rosillo, who was in excellent form, while the two soldiers and the Indians were mounted on horses which had been left by passing soldiers. As we got the troop up towards the "rodeo" a portion of them tried their utmost to break back, but the rosillo was quite equal to the occasion; he was indeed a good little horse, and his speed and energy soon succeeded in rounding them up and forcing them to rejoin the others, so that we managed to get them all shut up in the stone "manga" with less difficulty than I had expected. Our native neighbours duly turned up, fires were lighted, and we were able to mark quite a fair number of foals. We also picked out about a dozen stray riding horses from among the troop, which had probably been left by soldiers as they passed along. These we divided between the Cerro and La Concordia, attaching them to the tropillas, in order that so long as they remained to us they might be made useful, and earn their living for the time being. Don Frederico was mounted on his rosillo allazan (chestnut roan), otherwise known as his war-horse; but Jennings no longer rode his usual dark grey, for it had been taken by soldiers about a month previously, so he was compelled to bestride a rather ancient-looking bay horse, which was also in but poor condition, instead.

At the beginning of March the two soldiers were recalled to Colla. When they bid us adieu they both thanked me for the pleasant time at the Cerro, and when they departed took with them our good wishes. Towards the end of the month, Charles Bent turned up quite unexpectedly. His relatives outside had been unfortunate, and had lost a lot of stock, both sheep and cattle, during the war, and his idea was to make his way to Monte Video later on, for he seemed to have a hope that the war would soon be over. He had lost his race-horse not very long after the disastrous affair at the Cerro, now getting on for a year and a half ago, and he rode up on an old "Bayo Negro," or dark cream, with a black mane and tail, which had been left by soldiers, and seemed to be of very little account. I was glad to see him again, for I always liked him. Moreover, he did not look very well; he was never really strong, so I asked him to stay on a bit at the Cerro, as we had ample room, and I knew he would be glad to help in any work which had to be done. With the exception of the rosillo, we were entirely dependent upon what I might call outside horses, for we had now scarcely one of our own mark left. The bay colt old Juan had tamed, was still with us, but he had managed to sprain his shoulder rather badly, so was for the time being of no use.

We had a room at the Cerro with a strong brick floor, which had at one time been used for stores, and I had this arranged for the rosillo, so that in case of necessity he could be shut up there at night. Generally, when the weather was fine, I could have him tied up in the courtyard, but when the nights got cold and he was unable to feed there, I knew it would be difficult to keep him in good condition. As it turned out, I found that the shelter from wind and rain, together with a small but regular allowance of maize, greatly contributed to his welfare. When I next saw Don Frederico I spoke to him about Charles Bent, and he said he should be very glad for him to stay on at the Cerro for he knew he would always willingly lend a hand at any work which might be going. He said he thought he would be much better there than if he were to go into Monte Video at present, as it was generally believed by those who knew, that before very long the Blancos intended to try and besiege the city, and if they should do so would probably succeed. During the next three weeks we had a good deal of sheep-working on hand, as the flocks from the puestos were being passed through the sheepyards, both at the Cerro and at La Concordia. Ramonou was really a great help; he was obedient and good at his work, and gave satisfaction all round. Bent had left his sheep dog, "Bob," with his relations. He told me it was some time since he had heard of Royd, but he believed he had sustained many losses with his stock at his friend's place near San Josè, and that he either had sailed or was about to sail for England. At this I was not surprised, for he never seemed to me well suited to camp life. He was naturally somewhat despondent, and there was no denying he had been very hard hit at the Sierras de Mal Abrigo.

Correo seemed now to have recovered his health and spirits, and to enjoy preparing our simple menu. He was always willing and attentive; indeed, since his arrival at the Cerro, everything inside the house had gone on quite comfortably.

Some three weeks passed and nothing happened except the ordinary routine of estancia work. During this time either Bent or I had been accustomed to go up on to the flat (azotea) roof once or twice daily with the glass, so as to have a good look round. The Cerro stood high, so that from its roof we could overlook the greater part of the estancia. This was a distinct advantage in times like the present, for it not only let us know anything that might be going on among the stock, but also allowed us time to prepare beforehand for any soldiers who might ride up to the house with the intention of causing us trouble. One afternoon Bent and I were up on the "azotea" together, having a look round with the glass. It was just about two-thirty when suddenly we saw some twenty soldiers coming our way from the East, at an angle which would make them pass to the front of the Cerro, about half a mile distant. We could, moreover, see they were Colorados, for the red banner was clearly flying from their lances. At the same time a troop of Blancos appeared, coming up from the Pass of the Pichinango, so that the two parties came into collision just about the place where Tio Benigno's deserted puesto still stood. We could see it all perfectly. They galloped furiously one toward the other two or three times, but seemed always to manage to avoid close contact. They fired their guns and revolvers, some of the shots at any rate being hurriedly let off into the air. Then the Reds made a bolt, and thereupon the Blancos, seeing this, galloped furiously after them, with their lances. One of the Reds was wounded by a shot, for we saw his arm hang useless by his side as he rode away. Another got a lance wound in his back, which was apparently more serious, as he fell from his horse after the Reds got a little further away, and had to be picked up by his comrades. So the Blancos remained masters of the situation, and after the Colorados had disappeared, they passed the Cerro at a gallop, about a quarter of a mile distant, following a northerly direction, as if they were making for Guaycoru, and we were all very glad to see both lots clear out. Some ten days later we were both up on the "azotea," about an hour before sundown. After taking a look round, I said to Bent, "Do you see that point of cattle feeding almost at the same place where the Blancos and Colorados met? And can you see a dark lump on the ground, a little way removed, just on the far side of them? If I am not mistaken that is a matrero, out 'bombiando.' You know what that means, 'looking for and marking down a young heifer, so that he and his companions can come and kill it at night,' and there will be a moon to-night up to twelve o'clock, you know!" "I believe you are right," replied Bent. "Have a look through the glass. I fancy you will find that animal standing alone a little further away to be a horse saddled, and he is probably hobbled as well." Taking the telescope, I soon saw this to be the case. "I will give that fellow a bit of a fright," I said, at once going down into the courtyard, where I had the rosillo ready saddled. It took but a moment to lead him out through the small door, jump on his back, and gallop off. I had not got more than half way, when the matrero, who must have seen me coming, ran to his horse, mounted, and made off towards the woods of the Pichinango as quickly as he could. The rosillo was going strong, and I should certainly have overtaken him, when an unfortunate thing happened. The ground was very rough and uneven, with numerous pieces of pointed rock rising up above it in every direction. The horse unluckily caught his off fore foot on one of these, and as he was going fast, it tripped him up, and he came down a regular cropper, rolling right over. I, of course, came down with him, having my revolver tightly held in my right hand, fully loaded, the trigger at half cock. When I fell it somehow got jammed between me and the hard ground, with the end of the barrel against my chest, slightly bruising the flesh. Fortunately, it did not explode! It was a Colt's muzzle loader, and I felt grateful to them for its reliability and their excellent workmanship. I remounted, and continued the chase, but the delay gave the man too much of a lead, and I only arrived in time to see him enter the woods and disappear. Bent seemed quite glad to see me return without any further mishap, and when I explained to him how I came to have the tumble, which he had been able to see with the telescope from the house, he remarked, "That revolver of yours is indeed worth more than anything it may have cost, old man!" This pleased me, for as a matter of fact, I had bought it second-hand, when I was at the Sierras de Mal Abrigo, upon its eminent firm of maker's reputation, knowing otherwise but little about it. Bent and I then got up the "tamberos" to their rodeo. They were now well in hand, and went up easily. As we returned, Justiniano was bringing up the southdowns, to shut them in for the night; I looked them over, and saw them safely inside their yard. Correo was always pretty punctual with supper when we were at home, for he was glad when work was over and he could retire to rest. Afterwards we had a quiet talk and a smoke, and both went early to bed.

A week later we were both on the "azotea" about four o'clock in the afternoon. A Mr. Fenton, who had formerly stayed a good deal at the Cerro, had left his "moro," or blue-grey horse behind him when he went away, attached to one of the tropillas. The horse was not there when I came, having detached himself, and joined up with the "saino manada," or troop of mares and foals. We had not been looking round long when I noticed a horse coming at pretty nearly full speed in the direction of the Cerro, with two soldiers in full pursuit. "I believe it is Fenton's 'moro,'" I said to Bent, "and what is more those two fellows are going to have him." Just then the "moro" passed, some three hundred yards distant, in front of the house. One soldier flung his "boleadores," but as it happened they fell short. The second thereupon immediately increased his speed, and flung his with such accuracy that they twisted themselves round the "moro's" hind legs, and soon brought him to a standstill. The soldiers then slipped a halter over his head, loosed the "boleadores" from his hind legs, and led him off with them, riding in the direction of the Pichinango Pass.

The "boleadores," or "bolas," as they are often called, are a very effective weapon in the hands of a skilled horseman who is well mounted. They are chiefly used to capture horses and wild mares in the open camp, and are a very important part of a "Gaucho's" equipment. They are made of twisted strands of raw horse-hide. There are three thongs united together at a common centre, each about a yard in length. At the other end of each thong is a leaden ball, covered with hide. The horseman holds one ball in his right hand while he swings the two others quickly round his head. He then lets go the ball he had in his hand, so that the three go whirling swiftly forward in a circle, and their weight and impetus causes the thongs to twist themselves round the hind legs of any horse at which they may be aimed, which, chiefly owing to the speed at which it is moving, soon finds itself with its hind legs tied up together, and so falls helpless to the ground.

Much smaller balls fastened together in the same manner, with quite thin thongs, are used by the natives to capture the wild ostrich.