Blanco y Colorado: Old Days among the Gauchos of Uruguay

by William C. Tetley

Fortunately, he had a placid, easy-going temperament, and was not at all nervous, nor was he inclined to meet trouble half-way. The following Friday, a little before eleven, a Blanco officer arrived, and with him about fifty soldiers. They were passing from the town of Colla, towards Guaycoru, and going on to join the White army. They had several extra horses with them, so they did not trouble much about ours, except a saino, or brown, which was feeding not far from the house, and this they asked to take along with them. I had "Carnival" tied up and saddled, as also was Royd's piebald, and Henriquez happened to be riding his chestnut down with the sheep. The other horses were among the rocks, so they did not see them. We invited the officer in to breakfast, which, after the Spanish fashion, we were accustomed to have at eleven o'clock, and dinner at sundown. He was quite young, having served but a short time in the army. He asked if his men might have something to eat, which meant they would like to kill a couple of sheep, and roast the meat over two fires made in the open. They also had some "farenha," a kind of meal, which they eat raw, with roast meat, and cooked into a sort of pudding with boiled. We also gave them "yerba" and sugar to make their matè, or native tea, and they were quite happy. They were all more or less armed with either lances or guns, and many carried both. Many had a revolver, and often a facon, or double-edged knife, stuck in their belts behind; but taking them all round, they were quite orderly, and the young officer seemed to have them under good control. He told us that the revolution was extremely popular. Men were flocking far and wide to the White banner, and up towards Paysandu had already joined in very large numbers. He asked us if any of the "Colorados" had come to the estancia, and if we knew of any being about in our neighbourhood. As they departed they looked quite picturesque, with the Blanco device round their hats, and the white banner flying from their lances, many leading their spare horses. They all rode off at a trotte-cito, or jog-trot, the young officer following alone in solitary grandeur behind. But their visit, although it passed off quite well, seemed unduly to depress poor Royd, whom we found it difficult to persuade into taking anything like a cheerful view of the situation.

Towards the end of the next week, Henriquez said he should like to ride over and visit a friend who lived at a small native place on the other side of Guaycoru. So it was arranged he should go on Saturday morning, returning home on the Monday, and that I should keep an eye on the flock of sheep. They did not feed far distant from the house, and when once turned early in the afternoon, usually fed quietly on their way home. So on Saturday morning after coffee, Henriquez caught and saddled up his chestnut, putting on his best gear, and wearing a clean white shirt, a black jacket and waistcoat, and a pair of black "merino bombachos," or wide trousers, tucked inside a pair of carefully polished long boots. On these he buckled a pair of silver spurs, of which he was very proud, as also of the handsome silver buttons fastening the wide belt of carpincho skin he wore round his waist. Finally he put on his summer poncho, a very nice one, and a soft broad-brimmed felt hat completed his appearance, which seemed to give him every satisfaction. Just before mounting his horse he examined his revolver, which he carefully fixed in its proper place inside his belt. I rode with him for about half a mile, and the last I saw of him was as he turned round the corner of a large grey mass of rock which bordered the track, and so disappeared from view. He did not return on the Monday as expected, and on the Tuesday morning when the boy drove up the riding horses to the corral, much to our surprise his chestnut was among them, with a bit of broken hide hanging loosely down from where it was fastened round the horse's neck. We supposed, however, it had been collared to a mare where Henriquez was staying, as was a usual custom, and had broken away during the early part of the previous night, and so found its way home. However, both Tuesday and Wednesday passed and he did not return, as we felt quite sure he would do, on a horse borrowed from his friends. So on Thursday morning I started to ride over to the place where Henriquez had gone, and during my absence the boy was to watch the sheep. Arriving there, as I did, about nine o'clock, my surprise may be imagined when I was told that Henriquez had left them about two o'clock on the Monday afternoon, quite well, mounted on his own horse, and that he seemed anxious to reach home with as little delay as possible. I stayed about half an hour discussing the situation, and then started to ride to the pulperia at Guaycoru, to make further enquiries. When I got there the owner knew nothing, nor had he heard anything regarding Henriquez from anyone who had come to his pulperia. He was a kind little man, and much concerned at my news, and he promised to enquire from anyone who called at his house if perchance they might have seen Henriquez, or heard any news of him. I stayed a little while and got some coffee and two or three biscuits, and then remounted a big brown horse I was riding, somewhat loosely put together, but sure-footed all the same, and well-accustomed to stony country. He had a head quite half of it white, and two wall eyes, known to the natives as a "pampa," by which name he usually went. Horses of this type and colour were said to have belonged to the original Indians of the "Pampas," at the time of the Spanish colonisation. After again talking things over with the pulpero, we agreed my best plan would be to ride round by Bent's puesto, in case he should have heard anything, and if not, I could let him know what had happened, so that he too might make enquiries. I arrived a little before one o'clock, and saw Bent walking close to his house as I rode up. "Bob" ran out barking, but immediately knew me and gave me a friendly greeting. Bent, of course, had known Henriquez well, and was much perturbed by what I had to tell him. He had neither seen nor heard anything. All he could tell me was that it was rumoured there were a party of thieves supposed to be fugitives from the Reds, who were said to have taken up their quarters in the rocks, and were stealing small points of cattle and sheep as opportunity offered. These they were supposed to drive off at night if there was any moon, or else immediately after daybreak, to a place some considerable distance away, where they were said to collect them, and where doubtless they had friends ready to receive them. All this, however, was not very comforting, but I asked Bent to be sure and let us know at once if he heard any news of Henriquez, and also to make his disappearance known to anyone he might happen to come across, for he lived not very far from the "camino real," or Government road. I then mounted my horse, determined to lose no time in getting back to the estancia as soon as might be. I knocked the "pampa" along at about his best pace, considering the broken ground over which I had to pass. I always had a queer feeling passing through the rocks. You could see so little in front of you, and were so easily apt to miss your way. However, it was barely half past two when I rode up. Royd was at home, and at once came out of the house. He was much shocked and greatly upset by what I had to tell him, saying again and again he felt quite sure the worst had happened, and that we should none of us ever see or hear of poor Henriquez again. On Friday Royd and I spent the day searching the tracks which ran through the rocky part of the estancia; first those over which a horseman returning direct to the house was most likely to pass, and then the ones which ran out on either side, which it was not usual for a traveller to follow. We came across various signs that men with horses had recently been passing in and out of the sierras, for twice we came across places where apparently a young cow had been killed and a fire made near, where part of it at any rate had evidently been roasted, and that quite recently. On Saturday we carefully searched over another portion of the estancia, but all without result. Not a sign could we see of the missing man. Henriquez "had simply vanished!" On Monday morning we sent the boy over to the pulperia at Guaycoru with a letter to the pulpero, asking if he could give us any news. But all in vain; no one had seen or heard anything of him since he started from his friends' house on his chestnut horse to return home on that Monday afternoon, now exactly a week ago. Tuesday passed and nothing came to relieve our suspense. But on Wednesday morning Bent turned up about eleven o'clock, and I saw at once by his face that something had happened. Having his friend with him, he started on his horse to come down to the estancia, and not wishing to be away longer than he could help, he chose a track which ran through the centre of the rocks in a diagonal direction, not usually followed, which came out not more than three-quarters of a mile from the estancia house itself. Contrary to his custom, "Bob" followed his master, instead of staying at the puesto, where the sheep were, until his return. Bent was riding carefully along this track when "Bob" suddenly began to whine and bark, and turning off on one side disappeared round a big rock.

Bent whistled and called, but the dog did not return. So he got off his horse and tied him up to a low bush which happened to be near. He then took out his revolver and followed on foot in the direction the dog had gone. He only went about fifty yards just round the edge of the large rock already mentioned when he found himself in a small open glade, some thirty yards long, and perhaps fifteen wide, at the far end of which stood "Bob," close by an object which lay stretched on the ground. Here was all that remained of poor Henriquez. He was lying slightly on one side, face downwards; his hat and poncho, and his long boots and silver spurs, his jacket and waistcoat, belt and revolver all gone! How he ever came there goodness only knew. Nothing was left but his white shirt, his black bombachos, and his stockings. It seemed as if the body must have been either carried or dragged to the place where it lay. His face looked peaceful, and the only thing to be noticed were signs of a wound where a bullet had entered just between the shoulders, apparently fired from behind. There were no signs of bruised or broken grass or horses' footprints, if indeed a horse could have got round the very narrow space beside the big rock. Bent covered the face with his pocket handkerchief, leaving the body lying exactly as it was when he found it, and then returning to where he had left his horse came on straight to the estancia. Royd was greatly affected by the sad news which Bent brought us, as well he might be. However, he said that he and I had better go back with Bent to the place, taking the native peon and a spade and pick with us, so that we might dig a grave, and so give the body a decent burial. Fortunately, we found a spot close by, where the stones and rock underneath the surface soil were more or less loose and detached. When we had finished digging the grave, Bent read a portion of the burial service, as we lowered all that remained of poor Henriquez into his last resting-place. We then filled in the earth again, placing the loose pieces of rock we had got out so that they covered and protected the top, our intention being later on to fix a wooden cross, suitably inscribed at the head of the grave, permanently to mark the place where our poor friend lay. It was late afternoon as Royd and I slowly and sorrowfully wended our way home, closely followed by the native peon, for Bent had returned to his puesto so soon as the interment was finally completed. Nothing much happened during the next few days. We had a gathering together of the cattle, but we were short-handed, and when we got them up to the rodeo we were compelled to conclude that a good many of them were missing. One morning, about nine o'clock, a dozen Government soldiers rode up, each with a red band round his hat and the red banner flying from their lances. They were not too civil, and merely said they were taking up horses and men. Our native peon was away among the rocks, looking for two of our riding horses, which were missing. Pedro, the cook, had retired to a dark corner of the kitchen. Our other horses were feeding at some distance from the house, but they asked for them to be brought up into the corral, so that they might take what they required. So we sent off the native boy to bring them in. Fortunately, "Carnival" and Royd's two horses happened to be feeding alone much further away, so they did not come up with the others, and the soldiers never saw them. They ended by taking five, including the pampa, previously mentioned, and they left us two in very poor condition. It was rather a trial to see them go off, but the soldiers gave us no choice in the matter, so we could not do otherwise than let them go. They also asked for some meat, and taking with them the greater part of a sheep which was hanging in the galpon, they rode off in the direction of Guaycoru, and we were pleased to see them depart without causing us further trouble.

On the Monday following, Royd rode over to stay until the end of the week with some friends who had an estancia a few miles on our side of the town of San José. Nothing happened during his absence until Friday, when Bent rode up about eight o'clock in the morning, looking much perturbed. Fortunately, his friend had been staying with him at the puesto as he so often did, for he told me that during the night not only had about two-thirds of his flock been driven off and could not be found anywhere in the morning, but that the puesto itself had been attacked just after midnight by four men, all apparently fully armed. They had doubtless expected Bent to be alone, but his dog "Bob" was sleeping at the foot of his bed, and woke him up from sleep by his growling, and so gave the alarm.

The puesto was a long, narrow building, built mostly of wood, thickly plastered inside and out with mud, the inside being well whitewashed throughout. The roof was thatched with a reed called "paja," much used for the purpose, for it kept the house both warm in winter, and cool in summer, and was an excellent protection against heavy rain. The front door stood close up towards one end of the building, facing West. Inside were two rooms, each with a window facing East, divided by a wall, so as to make a living-room, into which you entered, with a sleeping-room beyond. This latter had also an extra piece built on to it at right angles, so as to give more sleeping accommodation, one of the walls of which overlooked the front door. In the middle of this wall, about four feet from the ground was a small wooden frame about eighteen inches square which had been put in the wall for the purpose of ventilation, and inside this was a moveable shutter which slid easily sideways, secured by a small iron hook to keep it in its place. Both frame and shutter were somewhat discoloured, so they were not easily noticed, appearing more or less the same as the mud wall outside. The moon was almost full, every now and again shaded over by light cloud, which came slowly sailing up from the south, although there was really but little wind.

The flock had gone quietly to rest on the large bare open space, where they usually passed the night, perhaps one hundred and fifty yards distant from the front door of the building. Bent had taken a look at them between nine and ten o'clock, before retiring to rest, when they appeared quite still, and everything quiet. It would be about two o'clock in the morning, when "Bob" began to growl in low but savage tones, which awoke Bent and his friend, who soon got into their clothes and had hold of their revolvers, which were always kept loaded. Meanwhile, Bent thought he could hear low voices outside the front door, so with great presence of mind he pushed the table which stood in the middle of the sitting-room up against it, and the chairs also, thus forming a sort of barricade. Leaving his friend to press the table inside against the front door as hard as he could, and also "Bob," who was then barking violently. Bent hurried round to the wooden shutter in his friend's bedroom wall, already mentioned, and drew it quietly back without making any noise. Looking through it he saw four men fully armed trying to force open the front door. He could also see their horses standing saddled near the outside kitchen only a few yards away. He promptly fired full at the nearest man, who forthwith uttered a loud cry, apparently wounded. He then fired two more shots in quick succession, but after the first shot the men made for their horses in great confusion, mounted them, and hurriedly rode away.

The two horses which were missing a week ago had not yet turned up, so I sent out the boy to have a good look round among the rocks, and if possible to find them, for I feared lest they had been stolen, which ultimately proved to be the case, for we never saw them again. Leaving the native peon at the house to look after the sheep, I started with Bent to go to the puesto, so that we might try if we could hear anything of all the sheep he told me were missing. His friend appeared glad to see us, for he had received rather a shock, and did not much like, after all that had happened, being there by himself. When we came to count up the sheep we found the number remaining to be barely six hundred some nine hundred having disappeared, which was indeed a heavy loss. Poor Bent seemed very sad about it, and well he might be! We could only conclude that the four men who attacked the puesto must have had accomplices, who drove off the sheep earlier in the night without causing much disturbance, by first turning them off the bare place where the flock was resting across the ground where they were accustomed to feed, before finally driving them off, as they appeared to have done. In so doing the strongest and best sheep would naturally go in front, while those which were weaker and less valuable would be the ones to stay behind. Seeing that four armed men had attacked the puesto, it seemed probable that at least an equal number had carried off the sheep. The fact that there was so much rocky and broken country in the neighbourhood of the estancia, and not very far away, made it all the more difficult to obtain any clue as to the route the thieves might have taken. The ground was hard, and we could find no trace of where the stolen sheep had passed.

Having done all we could in this direction, Bent and I separated, each of us riding round to two or three of the neighbours whom we knew, to make them aware of what had happened. Late in the afternoon I called at the pulperia at Guaycoru, hoping I might perhaps hear something there—but all the owner could tell me was he had heard a rumour that Mamerto Gomez, the man I had once spoken to at his house, had been seen three days previously with half a dozen other men entering the rocks, fully armed, from the opposite side, but for what purpose or whether they were in any way connected with the carrying off of the sheep, it was impossible to say! It was easy to surmise they were up to no good, but this was of course merely conjecture, and I completely failed to learn anything which might lead to the recovery of the large number of sheep which were missing. Royd was to come home the next afternoon, and I knew what a blow this would be to him, when he came to hear of his loss. I had "Carnival" tied up that night, and sunrise saw me in the saddle on my way to the puesto, to consult with Bent as to what we could do further, with a view to obtaining some reliable information if possible by the time Royd would return. When I got there Bent had heard nothing, although he had communicated with more than one traveller riding towards the road along which the diligence passed. We arranged the direction in which Bent should search during the day, and I took the opposite one, and made a long round, calling up anywhere I thought it possible I might hear anything. By mid-day, I found myself not very far from the pulperia at Guaycoru, so stopped there, and arranged with the owner to send over a messenger at once to the estancia should he hear anything which would help us. I then rode back to the puesto to consult once more with Bent, who by this time—it was now two o'clock—had returned from his search, without having obtained any information, although he had questioned at least a dozen people since I left him in the morning. It was all very trying and disappointing. There seemed nothing for it but to return to the estancia to meet Royd when he got home, and tell him what had happened.

It was nearly four o'clock when I arrived, and about half an hour later Royd turned up, having much enjoyed his little outing. He brought a young English boy, about fifteen, with him, tall for his age, with broad shoulders, and an upright figure. His name was Frank Tryon, but he was generally known as "Francisco." He was an excellent rider, and fond of horses and dogs, especially of the pretty "alazan," or chestnut pony he was riding when he arrived, with its flowing mane and tail, of which it was easy to see he was really very proud.

I helped them to unsaddle, and told the cook to get some coffee ready, as they told me they had breakfast as they came along. Royd then sat down in an easy chair and began to smoke. "Well, Royd," I said, "I am very glad to see you back. I have just come down from Bent's puesto. It was attacked by thieves on Thursday night, and two-thirds of the sheep were stolen. Bent and I have searched in every direction both yesterday and to-day, and we can learn nothing whatever about them." "Goodness gracious! that is indeed bad luck," replied Royd, "but I am glad poor Bent got off all right; it must have given him a great shock. I hope his friend was with him so that he would not be alone." I then told him all that had happened, and also what I had heard about Mamerto Gomez and his men having been seen entering the sierras. "It is not unlikely he may be the real cause of it all," said Royd. "I fully expect that fellow had a hand in it, for I believe him to be a regular scoundrel, in spite of his suave manner and grand appearance." Certainly Royd bore his misfortune with more fortitude than I expected, for the loss was indeed a heavy one. The late afternoon was now drawing on, and I sent the native boy to bring up the "tropilla," which happened to be feeding not far away, up into the corral, so that we might collar Francisco's pony to the tropilla mare, and we then let them all out again to feed for the night. After dinner we talked the whole affair over before going to bed, without, however, coming to any conclusion as to what prospect there was of our ever again hearing of the missing sheep. Early on Monday morning, leaving Francisco at the house, who said he would keep an eye on the sheep, Royd and I rode over to the puesto, where Bent had nothing whatever to report. He had managed to interview during Sunday some half dozen horsemen who were riding along within reach of him, but could obtain nothing in the way of information. Royd and I both took a long turn round in opposite directions, each returning to the puesto about three o'clock; but it was all in vain: we could learn nothing which would help us from anybody. We again held a consultation, and Royd determined that for the present Bent should stay on at the puesto and have his friend with him, maintaining as strict a watch as possible over the sheep which remained. Later, if we failed to hear anything of the ones that had been stolen, the only thing to do would be for Bent to come down with his sheep to the estancia, and join them on to those which were there. As by leaving the puesto he would not only be safer and more secure himself, but he could then look after all the sheep remaining on the estancia by keeping them together in one flock.