We dismounted and endeavoured to lead our horses under an overhanging rock. At last we succeeded in obtaining some shelter; and there we stood, every instant expecting to be struck by the electric fluid, which rushed zigzagging before us. Feelings such I had never before experienced came over me. I was at the same time inspired rather with awe than with terror. It was as if the heavens were pouring out their full wrath on man—as if the foundations of the world were about to be uprooted, and the mighty mountains hurled over on the plains below.
Rocks and earth came hurtling down from the lofty peaks above us; crash succeeded crash, and flashes of the most intensely vivid lightning dashed before us without intermission, till the air itself seemed on fire, and the faculties of sight and hearing both failed from over-exhaustion of their energies. It appeared as if the dreadful strife of the elements would never end; but as we were despairing of reaching a resting-place before night should set in, the thunder rolled away, the lightning ceased, and our party emerging from the caves and crevices where they had taken shelter, we found that providentially all had escaped injury. We mounted once more. As we proceeded, the rays of the setting sun came streaming along a beautiful valley which opened on our right. Descending rapidly, in little more than an hour we found ourselves before a tambo. It was wretched enough in appearance, and neither food nor beds did it afford. As, however, we had with us a supply of provisions, and our cloaks and saddle-cloths spread on the floor, with our saddles for pillows, served us for couches, we were not worse off than we frequently had been; and I know that I slept soundly till morning.
Chapter Four.
Attacked by robbers—A merciful deed returned with interest.
The scenery we passed the next day was very similar to what I have already described; but the valley, which, on being contrasted with the snowy region we had just left, appeared so attractive, was, I found, when seen by the morning light, owing to its high elevation, a very barren and desolate place.
We rode on for some hours through scenery such as I have before described, when in the afternoon, as we were beginning to fancy that we were near the termination of our day’s journey, we entered a deep gorge, with the dark rocks towering up, wild and rugged, on either side of us. It was just such a place as one might have expected an ambush to have been placed in; as a few resolute men might have held the road, aided by others sheltered by the rocks, against a whole army attempting to pass. An oppressive gloom invaded the spot, and the air seemed damp and heavy, as if the warming rays of the sun had never penetrated below the tops of the cliffs.
I was riding on in advance of the main body, when, on reaching the spot where the gorge opened somewhat, I saw at a considerable distance before me what I took to be a mark on the cliff in the shape of a horse with a rider. As I advanced, however, I perceived that it was a lonely man on horseback. He was too far off, standing as he was in shade, for me to distinguish his dress or appearance. He seemed to be stationary, as if watching our approach. A sharp turn in the road shut out the view beyond him. Had I been an old soldier, I should have fallen back on my companions and reported what I had seen; but I fancied that the horseman was a traveller like ourselves, and so I continued to ride carelessly on. I was very nearly falling a victim to my neglect. I had advanced some two hundred yards farther, when my friends reached the spot from which I had first caught sight of the horseman. He was still there, but no sooner did he see them than he wheeled round his horse and disappeared behind the cliffs. This I thought suspicious. My first impulse was to gallop on to overtake the man; but fortunately the chief guide had just then come up with me, and urged me not to go on. I therefore shouted out to my friends to let them know what I had seen, and reined in my steed till they came up. The information did not hasten the advance of any of the party; indeed some of them were evidently anxious to cede the post of honour in the van to their friends. The cry of “The Montoneros, the Montoneros!” arose from every mouth. Some tumbled off their horses, as if to shelter themselves behind them from the expected volleys of the dreaded banditti; others sat still and began to count their beads; and not a few turned their horses’ heads preparatory to running away. I must do the padre the justice to say that he looked as brave as any of them, except a few who advanced to the front.
“Where are the enemy, David?” asked my father, who led them on.