A Voyage round the World / A book for boys

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Oh, by all means!” we exclaimed, wondering in what way the bear was to be hunted. “Let us go.”

After an early breakfast, we set out on horseback, accompanied by several men on foot carrying long poles. Each of the young rancheroes had a long coil of rope round his saddle-bow, to which one end was fastened—at the other was a running loop. This I found was a lasso—a weapon (for so it may be called) in their hands of very formidable character. The appearance the young rancheroes presented on horseback was very picturesque. Their saddle-cloths and saddles were richly worked, and the head-gear of their horses was adorned with gay tassels. Round their own heads, and necks, and waists, they wore bright-coloured handkerchiefs. Their jackets and trousers were made very loose, and adorned with a profusion of silver buttons; while on their heels they wore huge silver spurs, with rowels as large as the palm of a man’s hand. Two other rancheroes joined us. They had seen the hear, and found out his haunts. We reached a wild, rugged country, with a few trees in the valleys, and numerous large rocks jutting out in the sides of the hills.

“The rancheroes say that the bear’s cave is not far off from here,” observed one of our English friends. “We must be prepared for him. Keep by us and do as we do.” Scarcely had he spoken when a loud growl or snort was heard, and not a hundred yards from us a huge, grisly, brown monster rushed out from behind a rook, showing his teeth, and standing upon his hind-legs as if ready to fight. I had never seen a more ferocious-looking monster. While we were looking at him he went down on his fore-paws, and with a loud growl made a rush at us.

“Put spurs to your horses, and gallop down the valley, or he will be upon us!” exclaimed our friends. We were not slow to follow this advice. I looked round—the bear was following us. Fast as we went, unwieldy as the monster looked, he came as rapidly after us. I could not help thinking if one of our horses fell, what would become of the rider. It was not unlikely either that one of us, especially the first mate, who was not accustomed to ride, might tumble off. If so, the bear would certainly kill him. On we went as fast as our horses’ legs could carry us. The bear was, notwithstanding this, gaining on us. I kept alongside Jerry, so did the mate. Their horses could not go faster. I wondered what had become of the rancheroes; I did not see them. Another terrific growl was heard, and looking over my shoulder, I saw that the bear had gained still more on us. He was not eighty paces from us. Just then I saw Jerry pulling at his horse’s bridle. He hauled away lustily, but it was too late. Down went the poor animal over a big stone, and away flew Jerry over his head. I shrieked with terror. How could I help him? I turned round, hoping to divert the bear’s attention, but the monster took no notice of me, and made straight at Jerry. At that moment, when I thought that it was all up with him, I heard a loud switch, as if something were passing rapidly through the air, and two of the rancheroes darted out from behind a cliff, having thrown their lassoes over the bear’s head and shoulders. Away they galloped in an opposite direction to which he was going, till their ropes were at their fullest tension, and then their horses drew up, planting their feet firmly on the ground and dragging against the astonished animal. Instead of seizing the prey he expected, he found himself drawn up with a halter round his neck, and heating the air in a vain endeavour to escape. When he found that he could make no head against the two rancheroes, who were endeavouring to stop him, he turned round in a fit of fury and endeavoured to overtake them. Keeping their lassoes at full stretch, away they went before him; and if he stopped a moment to try to get rid of the nooses, they gave him a jerk which made him move on again. Jerry was, happily, not hurt by his fall, and having caught his horse, the mate, and I helped him quickly to mount and to overtake the rest of the party who were following the hunters. After galloping along the valley for a quarter of a mile or so, the two other rancheroes darted out from behind a rock, and whirling their lassoes round their heads, cast them with unerring aim over the shoulders of the bear, and then galloped away from him. The monster had now four lassoes round him. Mighty as was his strength, and fierce as were his struggles, he was in an instant brought to the ground. He bit, and struggled, and snarled, or rather growled in vain; tighter and tighter grew each noose till he was hauled over on his back. Some of the men on foot, who had been hidden in the neighbourhood, rushed forward, and threw their lassoes over his legs. He was now utterly helpless. Then the men came with their long poles, with which they formed a sort of litter, and off they carried poor Bruin in triumph. It was certainly much pleasanter examining him now he was made fast than when he was at liberty. We were told that his strength is so great that he can, without difficulty, overcome the huge bison whom he meets with in the plains. The doctor called him the Ursus ferox. His claws were long and strong, his canine teeth of great size, and his eyes deeply sunk in his head. We followed the huge prisoner in triumph till we came to a road, when he was put on a cart and rumbled off to the farm. Thence he was forwarded to Mazatlan, and very likely shipped off to some distant part of the world.

On our way back to the rancho, we encountered a herd of wild cattle, one of which the young rancheroes wished to capture. Off they set in pursuit of a fine bull they had singled out from the herd. One of them rode up on the right side of the animal about twenty feet off, the other kept a little behind at about the same distance on the left side. Away flew the noose of the right-hand man over the head of the beast; at the same moment the ranchero behind cast his by a peculiar knack over the left hind-foot, as the animal lifted it in running. The sudden jerk brought him to the ground, and the other ends of the lassoes being fastened to the saddles, the horses stood perfectly still, dragging away with all their might in opposite directions. Their masters quietly dismounted, and leaving their horses thus keeping the bull secure, they leisurely approached him. They then secured his feet in such a way that he could only just walk, and bent his head down to his legs, so that he could not butt, and making him get up, led him away a prisoner. Several were treated in the same way. We wonderfully enjoyed our day’s excursion.

The next morning by daybreak we set off to continue our journey. It was very pleasant travelling. Sometimes Jerry and I rode together, sometimes with the doctor or Mr Renshaw, and at others with our two English friends, from whom we gained a good deal of information. From all I heard, I should not at all like to live in Mexico. The descendants of the fierce conquerors have become a most degenerate race, without religion, without morality—each man ready to destroy his neighbour for the sake of getting into his place. That object seems to be the only end and aim of all their politics. As to patriotism, it does not exist. The nearest approach to the sentiment is made by those who wish for a settled government, that they may enjoy their property in peace and quiet. The consequences of the constant change of government are, that brigands abound, that the confines of the country are left open to the depredations of the Red Indians, and that the army of the state is left in a dreadfully disorganised condition—ill paid, ill fed, ill clothed, and utterly unable to cope with the evils which beset them. We stopped for a few hours at a ruined house to take our mid-day meal, and then continued our journey. Soon after this we came to some blackened walls which showed where a village once stood. We learned from the rancheroes that only a few weeks before there existed on the spot a pretty hamlet, with a contented and happy population of some fifty persons or so. One morning, just as they were setting forth to their work, the dreaded war whoop of the Indians was heard. Two or three hundred Red Indian warriors, armed with spears, rifles, and round shields, were seen galloping towards the devoted village. Some of the people fled. All tried to flee, for so completely unprepared were they that there was no time to make any defence. The women and children, as they were overtaken, were indiscriminately slaughtered. The plunder that was considered worth carrying off was collected, and then in wantonness the village was set on fire. A few of the fugitives had at length reached Durango with the tale of their misfortunes. Some troops had been sent out with orders to exterminate the savages, but they took very good care not to come near them, while the Indians indeed were probably making a foray some two or three hundred miles away. At night we reached a rancho, the owner of which was known to our friends. He received us hospitably, slung hammocks for us in one of the corridors of the house, and gave us the usual tortillas, and eggs, and beans for a feast, in addition to some very fine beef. The evening of the next day was approaching, when, as we were descending a hill, we saw in the plain below us a number of horsemen galloping about. We were too far off to make out what they were. The rancheroes gazed earnestly at them. Mr Renshaw had a good glass with him.

“Why, there are red fellows on horseback, with spears and shields, but without a rag on them,” he exclaimed. “They seem to be fighting with another set of fellows dressed as Spaniards, and, hang it, the latter are turning heels and flying.” The rancheroes seemed very much excited all the time, and rode a little way down the hill, that they might better see what was going on. They quickly turned round and beckoned to us to join them. We did so, and soon saw that if we would save the lives of the Mexicans, there was not a moment to be lost. Although there were thirty of them, there were fully four times as many Indians. It was not difficult to divine what had occurred. The Mexicans had been taken by surprise, and instead of pulling up and keeping close together, each man had galloped off in the hope of saving his own life, without thinking of his companions. The Indians had thus got in among them, and had already pierced several through with their long spears. Each Indian warrior, however, as soon as he had killed or disabled a man, stopped to take his scalp, and this gave time to some of the Mexicans once more to unite and to present a better front to the enemy. The resistance they were making, however, was very feeble, and as we galloped on we saw that they had once more begun to break. The Indians had been so intent on the attack that they had not perceived our approach, neither had the Mexicans.

“Now, my friends,” exclaimed our friend Captain Driscoll, who seemed as if by right to take the command, “keep together, shoulder to shoulder, and dash boldly in among those red villains. Cut them down, and pistol them as best you can, shouting at the top of your voices. I know them of old; they won’t stand that. When they hear English voices they’ll run; they know what they are to get. Wait till I give the word, though.”

It was very exciting. Down the steep hill we dashed at full speed, our horses seeming clearly to understand what we were about. Already several more Mexicans had, through their cowardice, lost their lives. We were within two hundred yards of the scene of strife. “Now’s the time!” shouted our leader. “Hurrah, hurrah! my lads! Give way, you red scoundrels!” we all shouted at the top of our voices. The Indians, hearing our cries, turned their heads, and seeing a large body of horsemen coming down the road, and not knowing how many there might be following, thought that it was high time for them to be off. Our appearance, also, gave the Mexicans courage, and they charged more manfully than they had done before.

“Wallop ahoo aboo, Erin gobragh!” sung out our leader, Captain Driscoll. “Fly, ye red scoundrels; fly, or we will cut you into mince-meat!” Whether the Indians understood what he said I do not know, but as he suited the action to the word, wielding a pretty heavy Toledo, they took his advice, and, disengaging themselves from the melée, urged their horses to a rapid flight. We, however, were too close to them to allow them to escape altogether with impunity, and three of them were knocked off the backs of their steeds, two of whom were mortally wounded. A third, I thought, was lead. He lay on the ground without moving, or apparently breathing, his tomahawk still held in his death-grasp. The cowardly Mexicans very soon put the other two poor wretches out of their pain, by running them through and through with their lances. Two or three of the heroes were in the act of charging the dead man, with the intention of running him through, when up he sprung to his feet, and away he went as quick almost, it seemed, as a flash of lightning after his comrades! Several of our party gave chase after him, but though he was on foot it appeared as if he would distance us. His leg, however, had been wounded, and he had miscalculated his strength. His pace slackened. Once or twice he stumbled; he felt that he could run no more. He was a brave fellow, and was determined to die like a man, with his face to his enemies. Flourishing his tomahawk above his head, he uttered his war cry, and rushed desperately towards us. A Mexican’s lance struck him on the shoulder, and brought him to the ground. The other Mexicans were about to despatch him, but Captain Driscoll sung out in Spanish, “Spare his life; spare his life; we do not kill fallen enemies;” and Jerry and I, impelled by the same feelings, threw ourselves before him, and by signs showed that we had resolved to protect him. The Indian seemed to comprehend what we were about, though perhaps he thought we wanted to preserve his life only to torture him, for he did not show that he was in any way obliged to us. The moment the lance was withdrawn, he sprung up with his weapon in his hand, ready to fight on; but one of the rancheroes threw his lasso over his shoulders, and, with a jerk which, had it been round his neck, would have dislocated it, brought him again to the ground.