Out on the pampas, or, The young settlers / by G.A. Henty

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OF

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WITHDRAWN

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Pampas.

THE FIGHT WITH THE PUMA.— Page 44

ON THE PAMPAS

OR

THE YOUNG SETTLERS

BY
,&*

G. ATHENTYj I £35

AUTHOR OF "THE YOUNG FRANC-TIREURS," "THE YOUNG BUGLERS,"
"THE MARCH TO MAGDALA," "WITH LEE IN VIRGINIA," ETC.

NEW YORK

HURST AND COMPANY

PUBLISHERS

Fa ?M o

, I

. H4

JWPTON ACCESSION

)7(p7
itiCROFT UBRA1Y

tf 3 1.1938

3 Q> 8 3 6~

Bancroft Library

University of California

WITHDRAWN

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
Mrs. Hardy's Resolution ,. 1

CHAPTER U.
The Start. 14

CHAPTER III.
A New Life. 24

CHAPTER IV.
The Pampas 33

CHAPTER V.
The Settler's Home 48

CHAPTER VI.
A Tale of the Mexican War 63

CHAPTER VII.
Seth Continues His Narrative of the Mexican Adventure 80

CHAPTER VIII.
Farm Work and Amusements rL99

CHAPTER IX.
Neighborly Visits and Advice 114

CHAPTER X.
The Lost Cattle 124

CHAPTER XI.
Quiet Times 153

CHAPTER XII.
A Steady Hand 168

ft CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XIII. PAGK

The Indian Attack 1 84

CHAPTER XIV.
TerribleNews ... 196

CHAPTER XV.
The Pampas on Fire 218

CHAPTER XVI.
At the Stake... o 241

CHAPTER XVII.

Itescued oo.o 256

CHAPTER XVIII.

> o a a o o o o e o 9 e c ° o o o c o o o o ,», o . o o , s , 0 ,,,,,,,, , ,,,,,,... 271

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER I.
MRS. HARDY'S RESOLUTION.

"WHAT are you thinking of, Frank?" Mrs. Hardy
asked her husband one evening, after an unusually long
eilence on his part.

"Well, my dear, I was thinking of a good many things.
In the first place, I think, I began with wondering what
I should make of the boys; and that led to such a train
of thoughts about ourselves and our circumstances that
I hardly knew where I was when you spoke to me."

Mr. Hardy spoke cheerfully, but his wife saw at once
that it was with an effort that he did so. She put down
the work upon which she was engaged, and moved her
chair nearer to his by the fire. "It is a serious question,
Frank, about the boys. Charley is fifteen now, and
Hubert fourteen. I wonder myself sometimes what we
shall do with them."

"There seems no opening here in England for young
fellows. The professions are crowded, even if they were
not altogether beyond our means; and as to a clerkship,
they had better have a trade, and stick to it: they would
be far happier, and nearly as well paid. The fact is,
Clara," and here Mr. Hardy paused a little, as if to gain
courage to say what he feared would be very disagreeable
to his wife — "the fact is, we are altogether too crowded

2 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

here. The best thing for the children, by far, and I
think the best thing for ourselves, would be to emi-
grate."

Mrs. Hardy gave a little sigh, but said nothing, and
sat looking quietly into the fire, as her husband went on:
"You see, my dear, I am just, and only just earning
enough for us to live upon. Nor is there any strong
probability of an increase of business. The boys, as you
say, are growing up, and I see no prospect of giving
them a fair start in life. Abroad it is altogether differ-
ent: we can buy land and stock it for next to nothing.
We should live roughly, certainly; but at least there is
no fear for the future, and we should start our boys in
life wffch a fair certainty of success. Still, Clara, I do
not of course mean that I have made up my mind upon
the subject. It is far too serious a matter to decide upon
hastily. I only threw out the suggestion; and if you,
after thinking it over, are against it, there is an end of
the matter. "

Mrs. Hardy was silent for a little, and a tear sparkled
on her cheek in the firelight; then she said, "I am not
surprised, Frank, at what you have said. In fact I have
expected it for some time. I have observed you looking
over books upon foreign countries, and have seen that
you often sat thoughtful and quiet. I guessed, there-
fore, what you had in your mind. Of course, dear, as a
woman, I shrink from the thought of leaving all our
friends and going to quite a strange country, but I don't
think that I am afraid of the hardships or discomfort.
Thousands of other women have gone through them, and
there is no reason why I should not do the same. I do
think with you that it would be a good thing for the
boys, perhaps for the girls too; and that, when we have
got over the first hardships, we too should be happier
and more free from care than we are now. So you see,

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 3

Frank, you will meet with no opposition from me; and
3f, after deliberation, you really determine that it is the
best thing to do, I shall be ready to agree with you. But
it is a hard thought just at first, so please do not say any
more about it to-night."

Mr. Hardy was an architect, as his father had been be-
fore him. He had not, however, entered the office at
the usual age, but when eighteen had gone out to the
United States, to visit an uncle who had settled there.
After spending some time with him, the love of adven-
ture had taken him to the far West, and there he had
hunted and shot for nearly three years, till a letter, long
delayed on the way, entreated him to return to England,
as his father's health was failing. He at once started for
England, and found that his father was in a feeble state
of health, but was still able to carry on the business.
Frank saw, however, that he was unequal to the work,
and so entered the office, working hard to make up for
lost time. He was a good draughtsman, and was shortly
able to take a great burden off his father's shoulders.

He had not been long at home, however, before he fell
in love with Clara Aintree, the daughter of a clergyman;
and his father making over to him a share in the busi-
ness, they were married just as Frank attained his
twenty-fourth year, his wife being about nineteen. Two
years after the marriage Mr. Hardy senior died, and from
that time Frank had carried on the business alone.

B was a large provincial town, but it scarcely

afforded remunerative employment for an architect; and
although Mr. Hardy had no competitor in his business,
the income which he derived from it was by no means a
large one, and the increasing expenses of his family
rendered the struggle to make ends meet yearly more
severe. His father had been possessed of a small private
fortune, but had rashly entered into the mania of railway

4 OUT ON TEE PAMPAS.

speculation, and at his death had left about fifteen thou-
sand dollars to his son. This sum Frank Hardy had
carefully preserved intact, as he had foreseen that the
time might come when it would, for his children's sake,
be advisable to emigrate. He had long looked forward
to this, but had abstained from taking any step until his
sons were of an age to be able to make themselves useful
in a life in the bush or upon the prairies.

Frank Hardy, at the time our story begins, was about
forty. He was a tall, active man, and the life he had
led in America when young had hardened his muscles,
and given him the full use of every faculty.

Mrs. Hardy was five years younger than her husband,
and scarcely looked thirty years old. She was a high-
spirited woman, well fitted to be her husband's compan-
ion in the dangers and hardships of a settler's life.

The subject of emigration once started, was frequently
continued, and presently books and maps began to be
consulted, and the advantages and disadvantages of the
various countries and colonies to be debated. Finally,
Mr. and Mrs. Hardy agreed that the Argentine Republic,
in its magnificent rivers, its boundless extent of fertile
land, in its splendid climate, its cheap labor, and ita
probable prospects, offered the greatest advantages.

The decision once arrived at, it was determined to an-
nounce it to the children, who had up to this time no
idea of the great change decided upon. Breakfast was
over, and the boys, whose holidays had just begun, were
about to leave the table, when their father said: "Wait
a moment, boys; there is something we want to talk to
you about."

The boys resumed their seats. "Your mamma and I
have been wondering what you boys are to become, and
we do not see any openings likely to occur here. Now,
what should you say to us all emigrating?"

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 5

"What, going abroad, papa!" they both exclaimed
joyously.

"Yes, boys, settling in the backwoods or in the
prairies."

"Oh, that would be jolly," Charley said, "I know,
papa, having fights with Indians, and all that sort of
thing. Oh, it would be glorious!"

"Well, Charley," his father said, smiling, "I do not
know that we shall have fights with Indians, nor do I
think it would be very jolly if we did. But we should
have to rough it, you know; you boys would have to work
hard, to help me in everything, and to look after the
cattle and sheep."

"What fun! what fun!" the boys both shouted; "we
should like it of all things in the world."

"And what do you think of it, Maud and Ethel?"
their mamma asked the two little girls, who were look-
ing very surprised, but rather doubtful as to the pleasure
of the fights with Indians which their brothers had
spoken so delightedly about. "You will have to be two
very useful little women, and will have to help me just
as the boys will have to he'p your papa. Very likely we
may not be able to get a servant there, and then we shall
have to do everything."

"That will be fine, mamma," said Maud, who was
rather over twelve, while her sister was just eleven. "I
don't think I could cook, but you should cook, and I
could scrub and do all the hard work, and Ethel could
wash up, and lay the table, and that sort of thing. That
would be fine, mamma."

Ethel, who almost always agreed with her elder sister,
did so now, and the four young ones became quite up-
roarious in their plans for making themselves useful.
At last Mr. Hardy called for order.

"Now silence all, and listen to me. This affair is a

0 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

serious business; and although I hope and believe that
we shall all enjoy our life very much, still we must pre-
pare for it, and look upon it in earnest, and not as a sort
of game. I have business here which I cannot finish
before another eight or nine months. Let us all make
the most of our time before we start. In the first place,
the language of the people among whom we are going is
Spanish, and we must all learn to speak it well before we
leave. For the next three months we will work together
at grammar and exercises, and then I will try and get
some Spanish teacher to live in the house, and speak the
language with us until we go. In the next place, it will
be well that you should all four learn to ride. I have
hired the paddock next to our garden, and have bought
a pony, which will be here to-day, for the girls. You
boys have already ridden a little, and I shall now have
you taught in the riding school. I went yesterday to
Mr. Saris, and asked him if he would allow me to make
an arrangement with his head gardener for you to go
there to learn gardening. He at once agreed; and I
have arranged with the gardener that you are both to be
there every morning at six o'clock, and are to work until
nine. At nine you will come in to breakfast. From
breakfast to dinner you will have to yourselves, except
upon the days you take riding lessons; and I should wish
you to spend this time at your usual studies, except
Latin, which will be of no use to you. From two till
half-past four you are to learn carpentering. I have
made an agreement with Mr. Jones to pay him so much
to take you as a sort of apprentices for the next nine
months. In the evening we will all work together at
Spanish. It will be hard work; but if you want to be
of any real use to me, it is absolutely necessary that you
should be able to use a spade and to do rough carpenter-
ing. As the time draws on, too, I shall ask one of the

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 7

farmers near to let you go out with his men and get
some notion of plowing. Well, what do you say to ail
that?"

Hubert looked a little downcast at this recital of the
preparatory work to be gone through, but Charley said afc
once, "It sounds rather hard, papa, but, as you say, we
shall have to work hard out there, and it is much better
to accustom one's self to it at once; besides, of course,
we should be of no use at all to you unless we knew
something about work."

"And what are we to learn, mamma?" Maud asked.

"Not a very great deal, my dear," Mrs. Hardy said.
"Spanish to begin with, then cooking. I shall teach you
at any rate, to make simple dishes and puddings, and to
boil vegetables properly. I shall myself practice until I
am perfect, and then I shall teach you. Besides that, it
will be as well for you to learn to attend to poultry; and
that is all I know of at present, except that you must
both take pains to improve yourselves at sewing. We
shall have to make everything for ourselves out there."

"I suppose we shan't do any more regular lessons,
mamma?"

"Indeed you will, Maud. You do not imagine that
your education is finished, do you? and you cannot wish
to grow almost as ignorant as the poor Indians of the
country. Yon will give up the piano, and learn Spanish
instead of French, but that will be all the difference;
and I shall expect you both to make as much progress as
possible, because, although I shall take you both out
there, and shall teach you whenever I find time, your
lessons must of necessity be short and irregular. And
now you can all go out into the garden and talk the
matter over."

"But you have not told us yet where we are going to,
papa," Charley said.

8 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"We are going to farm upon the banks of one of the
great South American rivers — probably the Parana, in
the Argentine Kepublic."

Mr. and Mrs. Hardy watched their children from the
•window. They went out in a group to the summer-house
in the corner of the garden, all talking excitedly. Then
Maud ran back again to the house, and in a minute or
two returned with the schoolroom atlas, and opening it
upon the table, they all clustered over it in eager consul-
tation.

Mrs. Hardy turned to her husband with a smile.
"You will have to get up the subject, Frank, so as to be
able to answer the innumerable questions you will be
asked."

"I shall always refer them to you."

There was quite a talk in B when it was known

that Mr. Hardy was going to emigrate with his wife and
family. He, and his father before him, had been so
long established in the town that there were few people
who did not know him, more or less.

Emigration in the year 1851 was far less common than
it is now, and the interest was proportionately greater.
Charley and Hubert became quite popular characters
among their late schoolfellows, who, whenever they met
them, would always stop to have a talk about the distant
country to which they were going. The boys, however,
had now but little time for talking; for upon the week
after their father had first told them of his intention,
they had set-to regularly at the work he had laid down
for them. They rose every morning at five, had a slice of
bread and a cup of milk, and were off to the gardener's,
where they worked hard until half-past eight. Mr.
Hardy had requested that they should be specially in-
structed in the raising of vegetables, and in the planting
and pruning of fruit-trees. The culture of flowers could

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 9

be of no utility. The digging made the boys' backs ache
at first, and blistered their hands, but they stuck to it
manfully, and soon became accustomed to the work, re-
turning to breakfast with glowing cheeks and tremendous
appetites.

In the afternoon they might be seen in the carpenter's
shop with their coats and waistcoats off, working away
with saw or plane.

Although both made good progress in both pursuits,
yet their tastes differed; Charley preferring the carpen-
tering, while Hubert was the gardener's most promising
pupil. The former was therefore christened the head
carpenter by his sisters, while the latter was promoted to
the post of chief gardener.

Four or five months of this work made a visible differ-
ence in the boys' appearance. They both widened out
across the shoulders, their arms became strong and
muscular, and they looked altogther more healthy and
robust. Nor did their appearance belie them; for once
when spending a holiday in the cricket-field with their
former schoolfellows, wrestling matches being proposed
after the game was over, they found that they were able
to overcome with ease boys whom they had formerly-
considered their superiors in strength.

In the meantime Mr. Hardy had succeeded in obtain-
ing the services of a young Spanish lady, who had come
to England to learn the language, as governess; and of an,
evening the whole family worked at Spanish, and made
such progress that they were soon able to establish the
rule that no other language should be spoken at meal-
times. The girls here soon surpassed their brothers, as
they had the advantage of morning lessons in the lan-
guage, besides which young children can always pick up
a language sooner than their elders; and they had many
a hearty laugh at the ridiculous mistakes Charley and

10 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Hubert made in their efforts to get through a long sen-
tence. In six months, however, all could speak with
tolerable fluency.

Maud and Ethel were as amused and as diligent at
learning household work as their brothers were in their
departments, and might have been seen every afternoon
in the kitchen, in their little white pinafores, engaged in
learning the mysteries of cooking.

One day, after they had been so engaged for about four
months, Mrs. Hardy said at breakfast: "I am going to
try an experiment. I have given the cook leave to go
out for the day. Mr. and Mrs. Partridge are coming to
dinner, and I intend handing over the kitchen to the
girls, and letting them make their first essay. We are
going to have soup, a leg of mutton with potatoes and
spinach, a dish of fried cutlets, and a cabinet pudding.
I shall tell Sarah to lift any saucepan you may want on
or off the fire, but all the rest I shall leave in your hands.
The boys will dine with us. The hour will be half-past
five, punctually."

The little girls' eyes flashed with pleasure, and they
quite colored up at the thought of the importance and
difficulty of the task before them. At lunch the boys
pretended to eat an extra quantity, saying that they felt
very doubtful about their dinner. In the afternoon Mrs.
Hardy felt strongly tempted to go into the kitchen to see
how things were getting on; but she restrained herself,
resolving to let Maud and Ethel have entirely their own
way.

The dinner was a great success, although the soup waa
rather hot, from Ethel, in her anxiety, having let too
much pepper slip in; and the cabinet pudding came up
all over the dish, instead of preserving its shape, it hav-
ing stuck to the mold, and Maud having shaken it so
violently that it had come out with a burst and broken

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 11

np into pieces, which had caused a flood of tears on the
part of the little cook. It did not taste any the worse,
however. And when the little girls came in to dessert
in their white frocks, looking rather shy, and very
scorched in the face, from their anxious peeping into
pots to see that all was going on well, they were received
with a cheer by the boys; and their friends were not
a little astonished to hear that the dinner they had par-
taken of had been entirely prepared and cooked by these
little women.

After four months' gardening, Mr. Hardy placed the
boys with a farmer who lived a mile distant, and made
an arrangement for them to breakfast there, so that they
now remained at work from six in the morning until
twelve. Here they obtained some idea of harnessing and
driving horses, of plowing, and of the other farming
operations.

They now only went four days a week to the carpen-
ter's, for their papa had one day said to them when they
were alone with him before dinner: "Do not put on your
working clothes this afternoon, boys; I am going to take
you out with me, but do not say anything about it at
dinner. I will tell you why afterward."

Rather surprised, they did as he told them, wondering
where they could be going. Their father said nothing
on the subject until they reached the town, which was a
quarter of a mile distant from their house. Then he
said: "Now, boys, you know we are going out to a coun-
try of which a great portion is still unsettled; and as
land is a good deal cheaper at a short distance from the
inhabited parts, we shall perhaps have no one within
many miles of us. Now it is just possible that at first
the Indians may be disposed to be troublesome. I do not
suppose that they will, but it is just as well to be pre-
pared for everything. There is no reason why you boys

$2 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

should not be able to shoot as straightly as a man, and I
have therefore bought two carbines. They are the in-
vention of an American named Colt, and have a revolv-
ing breech, so that they fire six shots each. There is a
spare chamber to each, which is very quickly shifted in
place of the one discharged; so that each of you could
fire twelve shots in a very short time. They will carry
up to five hundred yards. They are a new invention,
but all accounts agree that they are an excellent one. I
have obtained leave from Mr. Harcourt, who lives three
miles from here, to put up a target at the foot of some
bare hills on his property, and we will walk over there
twice a week to practice. I used to be considered a first-
rate shot with a rifle when I was a young man in Amer-
ica, and I have got down a rifle for my own use. I do
not want you to speak about what we are doing to your
mamma, or indeed to any one. We shall keep our rifles
at a cottage near where we shoot, and no one need know
anything about it. It is not likely that we shall have
any trouble with the Indians, and it is of no use making
your mamma uncomfortable by the thought of the prob-
ability of such a thing."

As Mr. Hardy spoke the boys were ready to dance
with delight, and this was increased when they turned
into the gunsmith's shop, and were shown the arms
which their father had bought for this expedition.

Mr. Hardy had already an excellent double-barreled
gun, and he had now purchased a long and heavy rifle
carrying a conical ball. In addition to the boys' car-
bines, he had bought them each a light double-barreled
gun. Besides these were two brace of Colt's revolving
pistols. These were all new; but there were in addition
two or three second-hand double-barreled guns for the
use of his servants, in case of necessity, and three light
rifles of the sort used for rook-shooting. Altogether, it

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 13

quite an armory. The carbines were in neat cases;
and the boys carried these and a box of cartridges, while
Mr. Hardy took his rifle; and so they started off to their
shooting ground.

Here their father instructed them in the use of their
revolving carbines, and then, after some practice with
caps only, allowed them to fire a few shots each. The
firing was certainly rather wild, owing to the difficulty
they felt at first of firing without shutting their eyes;
, but after a few weeks' practice they became very steady,
. and in three or four months could make pretty certain
of a bull's-eye at three hundred yards. Of all this Mrs.
, Hardy and the girls knew nothing; but there was not the
. same secrecy observed with reference to their shotguns.
These they took home with them, and Mr. Hardy said
that he understood that the plains of South America
swarmed with game, and that, therefore, it was well that
the boys should learn how to shoot. He insisted, how-
ever, that only one gun should be taken out at a time,
to diminish the danger of accidents. After that the
boys took out their guns by turns when they went to
work of a morning, and many a dead blackbird soon
attested to their improving skill.

U OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER II.

THE START.

1 IT was nearly a year after he had made up his mind to
emigrate before Mr. Hardy was able to conclude all his
arrangements. Then came the great business of packing
up. This is no trifling matter when a family of six per-
sons are going to make a move to a new country. Mr.
Hardy had at first thought of taking portable furniture
with him, but had been told by a friend who knew the
country that every requisite could be obtained at Buenos
Ayres, the capital of the Argentine Republic, at a far lesa
price than he could convey such heavy articles from
England. Still the bulk of luggage was very large; and
the boys, who had now left off their farming and carpen-
tering lessons, worked at home at packing-cases, and
had the satisfaction of turning their new acquirements
to a useful purp'ose. In addition to the personal bag-
gage, Mr. Hardy was taking with him plows and agricul-
tural implements of English make, besides a good stock
of seeds of various kinds. These had been sent on direct
by a sailing ship, starting a fortnight before themselves.
When their heavy baggage was packed up it too was
sent off, so as to be put on board the steamer by which
they were to sail; and then came a long round of visits
to bid farewell to all their friends. This was a sad busi-
ness; for although the boys and their sisters were alike
excited and delighted at the thought of the life before
them, still they could not but feel sorrowful when the

OUT ON TEE PAMPAS. 13

time came to leave all the friends they had known so
long, and the house they had lived in ever since they
could remember.

This over Mrs. Hardy and the children went to Liver-
pool, where they were to embark; while Mr. Hardy
remained behind for a day or two, to see to the sale of the
furniture of the house. The day after he joined the
family they embarked on board the Barbadoes, for Bio
and Buenos Ayres. Greatly were the girls amused at the
tiny little cabin allotted to them and their mother — a
similar little den being taken possession of by Mr. Hardy
and the boys. The smartness of the vessel, and the style
of her fittings, alike impressed and delighted them. It
has not been mentioned that Sarah, their housemaid, ac-
companied the party. She had been left early an orphan,
and bad been taken as a nursemaid by Mrs. Hardy. As
time T?ent OB, and the little girls no longer required a
nurse, she had remained as housemaid, and having no
friends, now willingly accompanied them. Mr. Hardy
had, to her great amusement, insisted upon her signing
a paper, agreeing, upon her masters paying her passage,
to remain with him for a year; at the end of which time
she was to be at liberty to marry or to leave them,
should she choose.

Knowing the scarcity of young Englishwomen in the
country that they were going to, and the number of
Englishmen doing well in the towns or as farmers, Mr.
Hardy had considered this precaution to be absolutely
necessary; as otherwise Sarah might have married and
left them within a month of her arrival. At the end of
a year her so doing would not matter so much, as by thai
time the party would be comfortably settled in their new
home; whereas during the necessary hardship at first, it
would be a great comfort having a faithful and reliable
servant.

16 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

The last looks which the party cast toward England,
as the Welsh coast sank in the distance, were less melan-
choly than those of most emigrants. The young people
were all full of hope and excitement; while even Mrs.
Hardy felt but little disposed to give way to sorrow, aa
it had been arranged that in three or four years, if all
went well, she should bring her daughters over to Eng-
land to finish their education.

Very lovely was that first evening, and as they sat in a
group together upon deck the little girls remarked that
they did not think that the sea was anything like as
terrible as they had expected, and that they did not feel
the least seasick. Their father smiled: "Wait a little,
my dears; there is an old proverb, 'Don't halloo until
you are out of the wood.' "

The next day was still perfectly calm; and when, to-
ward evening, the children were told that they were now
fairly getting into the Bay of Biscay, they could scarcely
believe the intelligence.

"Why, one would think, Maud," her father said,
"that you were disappointed at its being calm, and that
you really wanted a storm."

"Oh, papa, I do think it would be great fun; it would
be so curious not to be able to walk about, and to see
everything rolling and tumbling. Don't you think so,
boys?"

"Yes, I think so, Maud; great fun," Charley said.

"Well, young people," the captain, who had been,
standing by watching the sun, now fast nearing the hori-
zon, and who had overheard their remarks, said, "if it is
any satisfaction to you, I can tell you that you are very
likely to have your wish gratified. But I question if you
will like it as much as you expect."

"Ah, you expect wind, Captain Trevor?" Mr. Hardy
*aid. "I have been thinking myself that the almost op-

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 17

pressive stillness of to-day, and the look of the sunset,
and these black clouds banking up in the southwest,
meant a change. What does the glass say?"

"It is falling very rapidly/' the captain answered.
"We are in for a sou'wester, and a stiff one too, or I am
mistaken."

Now that it appeared likely that their wishes were
about to be gratified, the young Hardys did not seem so
pleased as they had expected, although Charley still de-
clared manfully that he was quite in earnest, and that he
did wish to see a real storm at sea.

As the sun set the party still leaned against the bul-
warks watching it, and the great bank of clouds, which
seemed every moment to be rising higher and higher.
There was still nearly a dead calm around them, and the
heavy beat of the paddles, as they lashed the water into
foam, and the dull thud of the engine, were the only
sounds that broke the stillness. Now and then, how-
ever, a short puff of wind ruffled the water, and then
died away again.

"Look at that great cloud, papa," Hubert said; "it
almost looks as if it were alive."

"Yes, Hubert> it is very grand; and there is no doubt
about there being wind there."

The great cloud bank appeared to be in constant mo-
tion. Its shape was incessantly shifting and changing;
now a great mass would roll upward, now sink down
again; now the whole body would seem to roll over and
•over upon itself; then small portions would break off
irom the mass, and sail off by themselves, getting thinner
^nd thinner, and disappearing at last in the shape of fine
streamers. Momentarily the whole of the heaving,
swelling mass rose higher and higher. It was very
grand, but it was a terrible grandeur; and the others
were quite inclined to agree with Ethel, who shrank close

18 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

to her father, and put her hand in his, saying, "I don't
like that cloud, papa; it frightens me."

At this moment Mrs. Hardy, who had been down
below arranging her cabin, came up to the group.
"What a dark cloud, Frank; and how it moves. Are we
going to have a storm, do you think?"

"Well, Clara, I think that we are in for a gale; and if
you will take my advice, you will go down at once while
it is calm, and see that the trunks, and everything that
can roll about, are securely fastened up. I will come
down and help you. Boys, you had better go down and
see that everything is snug in our cabin."

In a quarter of an hour the necessary arrangements
were completed, but even in that short time they could
feel that a change was taking place. There was now a
steady but decided rolling motion, and the young ones
laughed as they found it difficult to walk steadily along
the cabin.

Upon reaching the deck they saw that the smooth sur-
face of the sea was broken up by a long swell, that the
wind now came in short but sharp puffs, that the bank
of clouds covered nearly half the sky, and that the de-
tached scud was now flying overhead. The previous
stillness was gone; and between the sudden gusts, the
roar of the wind in the upper region could be heard.
The sun had set now, and a pall of deep blackness
seemed to hang from the cloud down to the sea; but at
the line where cloud and water touched, a gleam of dim
white light appeared.

In preparation for the coming storm, the sailors had
put on thick waterproof coats. Many of the passengers
had gone below, and those who remained had followed
the sailors' example, and had wrapped themselves up in
mackintoshes.
, Every moment the gusts increased iu frequency and

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 19

power, and the regular line of swell became broken up
into confused white-headed waves. The white gleam
tinder the dark cloud grew wider and broader, and at
last, with a roar like that of a thousand wild beasts, the
gale broke upon them. Just before this Mr. Hardy had
taken Mrs. Hardy and the girls below, promising the
latter that they should come up later for a peep out, if
they still wished it. Charley and Hubert were leaning
against the bulwark when the gale struck them.

For a moment they were blinded and half-choked by
the force and fury of the spray and wind, and crouched
down behind their shelter to recover themselves.
Then, with a hearty laugh at their drenched appearance,
they made their way to the mainmast, and then, holding
on by the belaying pins, they were able to look fairly out
on the gale. It was dark — so dark that they could
scarcely see as far as the foremast. Around, the sea
was white with foam; the wind blew so fiercely that they
could scarcely hear each other's voices, even when they
shouted, and the steamer labored heavily against the fast
rising sea. Here Mr. Hardy joined them, and for some
little time clung there, watching the increasing fury of
the gale; then, drenched and almost confused by the
strife of winds and water that they had been watching,
they made their way, with great difficulty, down into the
cabin.

Here the feeling of seasickness, which the excitement
of the scene had kept off, increased rapidly; and they
were glad to slip off their upper clothes, and to throw
themselves upon their berths before the paroxysm of
sickness came on.

When questioned afterward as to the events of the next
thirty-six hours, the young Hardys were all obliged to
confess that that time was a sort of blank in their mem-
ory— a sort of horrible nightmare, when one moment

20 > UT ON THE PAMPAS.

they seemed to De on their heads, and the next upon
their feet, but never lying down in a comfortable posi-
tion, when sometimes the top of the cabin seemed under
their feet, sometimes the floor over their head. Then,
for a change, everything would go round and round; tho
noise, too, the groaning and the thumping and the
cracking, the thud of the waves and the thump of the
paddles, and the general quivering, and shaking, and
creaking, and bewilderment — altogether it was a most
unpleasant nightmare. They had all dim visions of Mr.
Hardy coming in several times to see after them, and to
give them a cup of tea, and to say something cheering to
them; and all four had a distinct idea that they had
many times wished themselves dead.

Upon the second morning after the storm began it
showed some signs of abating, and Mr. Hardy said to his
sons, "Now, boys, make an effort and come upon deck;
it's no use lying there; the fresh air will do you good."
Two dismal groans were the only response to this appeal.

"Yes, I know that you both feel very bad, and that it
is difficult to turn out; still it is worth making the effort,
and you will be very glad of it afterward. Come, jump
up, else I shall empty the water-jug over you. There,
you need not take much trouble with your dressing/' he
went on, as the boys, seeing that he was in earnest,
turned out of their berths with a grievous moan. "Just
hold on by something, and get your heads over the
basin; I will empty the jugs on them. There now you
will feel better; slip on your clothes and come up."

It was hard work for Charley and Hubert to obey
orders, for the ship rolled so tremendously that they
could only proceed with their dressing by fits and starts,
and were more than once interrupted by attacks of their
weary seasickness. However, their father stayed with
them, helping and joking with them until they were

0 UT ON THE PAMPAS.

ready to go up. Then, taking them by the arm, he
assisted them up the stairs to the deck.

Miserable as the boys felt, they could not suppress an
exclamation of admiration at the magnificent scene be-
fore them. The sea was tossed up in great masses of
water, which, as they neared the ship, threatened to
overwhelm them, but which, as she rose on their sum-
mits, passed harmlessly under her, hurling, however,
tons of water upon her deck. The wind was still blow-
ing fiercely, but a rift in the clouds above, through
which the sun threw down a bright ray of light upon the
tossing water, showed that the gale was breaking.

The excitement of the scene, the difficulty of keeping
their feet, and the influence of the rushing wind, soon
had the effect which their father predicted. The boys'
looks brightened, their courage returned; and although
they still had an occasional relapse of sickness, they felt
quite different beings, and would not have returned to
the blank misery of their cabins upon any consideration.
They were soon able to eat a piece of dry toast, which
Mr. Hardy brought them up with a cup of tea at break-
fast-time, and to enjoy a basin of soup at twelve o'clock,
after which they pronounced themselves as cured.

By the afternoon the force of the wind had greatly
abated, and although a heavy sea still ran, the motion of
the vessel was perceptibly easier. The sun, too, shone
out brightly and cheeringly, and Mr. Hardy was able to
bring the little girls, who had not suffered so severely as
their brothers, upon deck. Two more days of fine
weather quite recruited all the party; and great was their
enjoyment as the Barbadoes entered the Tagus, and,
steaming between its picturesque banks and past Cintra,
dropped her anchor off Lisbon.

As our object, however, is to relate the adventures of
our young settlers upon the Pampas of La Plata, we

22 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

must not delay to describe the pleasure they enjoyed in
this their first experience in foreign lands, nor to give an.
account of their subsequent voyage across the Atlantic,
or their admiration at the superb harbor of Rio. A few
days' further steaming and they arrived at the harbor of
Buenos Ayres, where the two great rivers, the Uruguay
and the Parana, unite to form the wide sheet of water
called the river La Plata. It was night when the
Barbadoes dropped her anchor, and it was not until the
morning that they obtained their first view of their future
home.

Very early were they astir, and as soon as it was broad
daylight all four of the young ones were up on deck.
Their first exclamation was one of disappointment. The
shores were perfectly flat, and, seen from the distance at
which they were anchored, little except the spires of the
churches and the roofs of a few of the more lofty
houses could be seen. After the magoficent harbor of
Rio, this flat, uninteresting coast was most disappointing.

"What a distance we are anchored from the shore!"
Hubert said, when they had recovered a little from their
first feeling. "It must be three or four miles off."

"Not so much as that, Hubert," Maud, who was just
a little fond of contradicting, said; "not more than two
miles, I should think."

Hubert stuck to his opinion; and as the captain came
on deck they referred the matter to him.

"The distance of objects across water is very deceiv-
ing," he said. "It is from eight to nine miles to those
buildings you see."

Maud looked rather crestfallen, and Charley asked,
"Why do we anchor such a long way off, captain?"

"Because the shore is so flat that there is no water for
us to get in any closer. In a couple of hours you will see
boats coming out to fetch you in; and unless it happens

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. S3

to be high tide, even these cannot get to the beach, and
you will have to land in carts. "

"In carts, Captain Trevor?" they all repeated; "that
will be a strange way of landing."

"Yes, it is," the captain answered. "I think that we
can safely say that the Argentine Kepublic is the only
country in the world where the only way to land at its
chief city is in a cart."

The captain's boat was by this time lowered, and he at
once started for shore with his papers. Soon after ten
o'clock he returned, followed by a number of boats. He
brought also a letter to Mr. Hardy from an old friend
who had been settled for some years near Buenos Ayres,
and whose advice had decided him to fix upon that coun-
try as tfie scene of his labors. It contained a warm wel-
come, and a hearty congratulation upon their safe
arrival. This letter had been written two or three days
previously, and had been left at the office of the steam-
ship company. It said, however, that the writer would
hear of the arrival of the steamer, and would have every-
thing in readiness to take them out to his place upon
their landing.

Mr. Hardy had been in frequent communication with
his friend from the time that he had determined to
emigrate, and Mr. Thompson's letters had contained the
warmest assurance of a welcome, and an invitation to
make his house their home until they had one of their
own to go into; and now this kind letter, coming off so
instantly after their arrival, cheered them all much, and
made them feel less strange and to some extent at home
in the new country at once.

24 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER III.

A NEW LIFE.

TIDE was fortunately high, and the boat containing
the Hardys and the lighter portion of their luggage was
able to get up to the landing place without the carts be-
ing called into use. As they approached the land they
were hailed in a hearty voice, and greetings were ex-
changed between Mr. Hardy and his friend Mr. Thomp-
son— a sunburnt-looking man with a great beard — in a
Panama hat and in a suit of spotless white.

"Why, Mrs. Hardy," he said as they landed, "you
hardly look a day older than you did when I last saw you
— let me see — fourteen years ago, just as this big fellow
was beginning to walk. And now, if you please, we will
be off as soon as we can, for my estancia is fifteen miles
away. I have made the best arrangements I could for
getting out; but roads are not a strong point in this
country, and we seldom trust ourselves in wheeled
vehicles far out of the town. You told me in your letters,
Hardy, that the young people could all ride. I have
horses in any number, and have got in two very quiet
ones, with side-saddles, which I borrowed from some
neighbors for your girls; but if they prefer it, they can
ride in the trap with Mrs. Hardy."

"Oh, no, please," Maud said; "I had much rather
ride."

Ethel said nothing, and her mamma saw that she
would rather go with her. Accordingly, Mrs. Hardy,

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 25

Ethel, Sarah, and some of the lighter bags were packed
into a light carriage, Mr. Thompson himself taking the
reins, as he said he could not trust them to any one but
himself. Mr. Hardy, the boys, and Maud mounted the
horses prepared for them, and two of Mr. Thompson's
men stowed the heavier trunks into a bullock cart, which
was to start at once, but which would no^ leach the
estancia until late at night.

As the party rode through the town they were struck
with the narrowness and straightness of the stroets, and
at the generally European look of everything; ftnd Mr.
Thompson told them that nearly half the popuhtion of
Buenos Ayres are European. The number of people
upon horseback also surprised our young travel-evs; but
horses cost only thirty shillings or two pounds, and grass
is so abundant that the expense of their food is next to
nothing; consequently every one rides — even shepherds
look after their sheep on horseback. The horses seemed
very quiet, for in front of most of the offices the horses
of the merchants could be seen fastened by a head rope
to a ring, grooms not being considered a necessity.

Once out of the town, the riding horses broke into a
canter; for the road was so good that the horses in the
light carriage were able to go along at full speed. As
they proceeded they passed many houses of the rich
merchants of the place, and all were charmed with the
luxuriance and beauty of the gardens. Orange and
lemon trees scented the air with their delicious per-
fumes; bananas, tree ferns, and palms towered abova
them; lovely butterflies of immense size, and bright little
humming-birds, flitted about among a countless variety
of flowers. The delight of the young ones was un*
bounded.

Presently they left the mansions and gardens behinl
and drove out fairly into the country.

26 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Upon either side the plains stretched away as far as
the eye could reach, in some parts under the plow, but
far more generally carpeted with bright green grass and
many-colored wild flowers. Everywhere could be seen
droves of horses and cattle, while dotted here and there
over the plain were the estancias of the proprietors.

It was a most delightful ride. The horses went very
quietly, but the boys found, to their surprise, that they
would not trot, their pace being a loose, easy canter.
The last five miles of the distance were not so enjoyable
to the party in the carriage, for the road had now become
a mere track, broken in many places into ruts, into
which the most careful driving of Mr. Thompson could
not prevent the wheels going with jolts that threatened
to shake its occupants from their places, and they felt as
if every bone in their bodies were broken by the time
they drew up at their host's estancia.

Here Mrs. Thompson came out to greet them. She
had been a great friend of Mrs. Hardy in their young
days, and great was their pleasure at again meeting
after so long a separation. Mr. Thompson had already
explained that his wife would have come over to meet
them, but that at the time he had left home it was not
known that the Barbadoes had arrived. She was due,
and, as a measure of precaution, the horses and cart had
for the last two days been in readiness, but the exact
date of her arrival was of course uncertain.

Mr. Thompson's estancia was a large and picturesque
building. It was entirely surrounded by a wide ve-
randa, so that at all hours of the day relief could be
obtained from the glare of the sun. In front was an ex-
tensive garden; and as Mr. Thompson had made it one
of his first objects when he built his house to plant a
large number of tropical trees and shrubs, these had now
attained a considerable size, and afforded a delicious

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 27

shade. At a short distance behind the house were the
houses oi the men, and the corrals, or inclosures, for the
cattle.

The interior was handsomely furnished in the Euro-
pean style, except that the floors were uncarpeted, and
were composed of polished boards. Everywhere were
signs that the proprietor was a prosperous and wealthy
man. Mr. Thompson had only one son, a lad of about
the same age as Charles Hardy. To his care MrsS{
Thompson now assigned the boys, while she conducted
Mrs. Hardy and her daughters to their rooms.

In half an hour the party reassembled at dinner, to
which they all did ample justice, for their long row and
ride had given them the keenest of appetites. They
were waited upon by an Italian man-servant; and Mrs.
Thompson said that there were a good many of this
nation in Buenos Ayres, and that, although they were
not considered good hands for rough work, they made
excellent servants, many of them having been waiters in
hotels or stewards on board ship before coming out.

During dinner the conversation turned chiefly upon
English friends and affairs, and upon the events of the
voyage. After it was over George Thompson proposed
to the boys to take a stroll round the place before it be-
came dark. The gentlemen lit their cigars and took
their seats under the veranda; and the two ladies, with
Maud and Ethel, went out into the garden. The con-
versation of Mr. Hardy and his friend turned, of course,
upon the country, its position and prospects, and upon
the advantage which the various districts offered to new-
comers. Presently the dusk came on, followed rapidly
by darkness, and in half an hour Ethel came to summon
them to tea. The boys had already come in, and were
full of delight at the immense herds of cattle they had
seen. As they sat down to the tea-table, covered with

28 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

delicate English china, with a kettle over a spirit-lanrp
in the center, and lit with the subdued light of two
shaded moderator lamps, Maud said, "It is not one bit
like what I expected, papa, after all you have told us
about hardships and working; it seems just like Eng-
land, except the trees and flowers and butterflies."

"Do not be afraid, Maud," her father said, laughing
— for her voice had a tinge of disappointment in it —
"you won't be cheated out of your hardship and your
work, I promise you. Mrs. Thompson will tell you that
it was a very different sort of place when she first came
here."

"Yes, indeed," Mrs. Thompson said, smiling; "this
was considered a very lonely place when we first settled
here. We had a little hut with two rooms, and it was
more than six months before I could get a woman serv-
ant to come out, and then it was only one of our shep-
herds' wives, who knew nothing of cooking, and who
was only useful in drawing the water and sweeping the
floors. In time the country became more settled, and
there are stations now sixty or seventy miles beyond us."

The next week was spent in riding over the estate,
which consisted of four square leagues — that is to say,
was six miles each way — and in examining the arrange-
ments of the inclosures for the catt/e. At the end of
that time Mr. Hardy started on a tour of inspection
through the provinces most likely to suit, provided with
numerous letters of introduction from his host. While
he was away the boys were to assist upon the estate, and
to accustom themselves to the work and duties of the
life they were to lead. Into this they entered with the
greatest zest, and were in the saddle from morning till
night, getting more and more sunburnt from constant
exposure, until, as Mr. Thompson told them, they looked
like two young guachos. The guachos are the natives of

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 20

ttie country. They are fine-looking men, with Spanish
faces. Their dress is very picturesque. They wear
loose oalzoncillas or drawers, worked and fringed round
the bottom. Above this is a sort of shawl, so arranged
that it has the effect of very loose trousers. These
shawls are generally of bright colors, woven in stripes,
and sometimes of black cloth edged with scarlet. The
white calzoncillas show below this garment, and above a
colored flannel shirt is worn. The boots are long and
are made of undressed leather. They wear a broad
leathern belt, with pockets in it; in this a knife, too, is
always stuck. Upon fete days they come out with gay
silver ornaments upon themselves and their horse-
trappings. Their saddles are very clumsy and heavy,
and are seldom used by Europeans, who, as Mr. Hardy
had done, generally bring English saddles from home.
After an absence of a month Mr. Hardy returned with
the welcome news that he had made his choice, and had
bought at the public auction a tract of four square
leagues, upon a river some twenty miles to the south of
the town of Rosario, and consequently only a few days'
journey from Buenos Ayres. Mr. Thompson looked a
little grave when he heard the location of the property,
but he only said that he was very glad that his friend
had fixed upon a spot which would make it easy for the
families to see something of each other. After the first
greetings were over Mr. Hardy proceeded to satisfy the
curiosity of his hearers as to the new property.

"It is six miles square," he said, "that is, about
twenty-five thousand acres, and I bought it for about
sixpence an acre. There is a good-sized stream runa
through it; there are a good many trees, considering
that it is out on the Pampas; there are several elevations
which give a fine view over the plain, and upon one of
these our future home will stand. A small stream falla

$0 OUT ON TEE PAMPAS.

into the larger one, and will, I think, be useful. There
is an abundance of game; ducks, geese, and swans swarm
upon the river. I saw a good many ostriches out on the
plains. And, lastly, the soil appears to be excellent. A
great point is, that it is only distant twenty miles from
Kosario, a most rising town; so that the value of the land
is sure to increase yearly, as new settlers come around
us."

"That is a most important point," Mr. Thompson
said. "Kosario is the most rising town in the country,
and the land around it is certain to be very much sought
after in a few years."

"Are there any settlements near, Frank?" Mrs. Hardy
asked.

"The next plot to ours belongs to three young Eng-
lishmen, and the ground between us and Rosario is also
principally occupied by English; so that we shall have
neighbors near, and I do not suppose that it will be long
before we have them all round us."

"If the advantages of the place are so great, Frank,
how is it that you have got it so very cheaply? I under-
stood from Mr. Thompson that land in a rising neighbor-
hood, and that was likely to increase in value, was worth
two or three shillings, or even more, an acre."

Mr. Hardy hesitated. "Well, Clara, the land is at
present upon the extreme verge of the settlements, and
the Indians are apt sometimes to be a little troublesome,
and to drive off a few horses or cattle. No doubt the
thing has been exaggerated; still there is something in
it, and the consequence is, people are rather afraid to
bid, and I have got this splendid tract of land for about
twenty-five hundred dollars; and, not improbably, in ten
years ft may be worth ten times as much."

"A great proportion of these Indian tales are built up
upon very small foundations," Mr. Thompson said

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 31 \

cheeringly; and Mrs. Hardy's face, which had been a
little serious, cleared up again, and in listening to her
husband's account of his travels, she forgot all about the
Indians. The boys, however, by no means did so; and
as they were going to bed Charley said: "I think there
is some chance of a row with the Indians, Hubert, for I
noticed that Mr. Thompson looked grave when papa first
said where he had bought the land. Depend upon it, we
shall have some fun with them after all." They would
have thought it still more likely had they heard the con-
versation between their father and Mr. Thompson after
the ladies had gone to bed.

"Why, my dear Hardy, how came yon, with a wife and
family, to think of buying land so exposed to the Indian
attacks? Every season, when they come down, they
sweep off the horses and cattle from the outlying settle-
ments, and murder the people if they get a chance. I
look upon it as madness."

"There is a good deal in what you say, Thompson, and
I thought the whole matter over before I bought it.
There is a risk — a great risk, if you like; but I hear the
Indians seldom attack the houses of the settlers if they
are well prepared and armed. They do occasionally, but
very seldom. I shall be well prepared and well armed,
and have therefore no fear at all for our personal safety.
As to our animals, we must protect them as well as we
can, and take our chance. It is only for two or three
years at most. After that we shall have settlements
beyond and around us; and if emigration keeps on, as I
anticipate, and if, as I believe, Eosario is to become a
very large and important place, our land will eventually
be worth five dollars an acre, at the very lowest. I shall
take care not to invest my whole capital in animals, so
that I cannot be ruined in one blow. I think that at
the end of five years you will agree with me that I have
done wisely."

82 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"I have no doubt that your property will increase very
much in value, as you say, Hardy, and that in the long
run your speculation will be a very successful one; but
it is a terrible risk, I think."

"I do not think so, Thompson. We shall be a pretty
strong party: we shall have certainly two men besides
ourselves. The boys could bricg down their man at
three hundred yards, and I should do considerable execu-
tion among a body of Indians at six or seven; so I have
no fear — not the least in the world."

In another two days Mr. Hardy and the boys, accom-
panied by Mr. Thompson, went down to Buenos Ayres,
and took up their quarters at the hotel for a night. At
parting, Mr. Thompson presented them with a couple of
tine dogs, which he had bred from English mastiffs: Mr.
Hardy had brought a brace of fine retrievers with him.
Then, with a hearty adieu and much hand-shaking, they
said "Good-by" as the steamer moved off from the shore.
The heavy luggage was to follow in a sailing vessel upon
the following day.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 3*

CHAPTER IV.

THE PAMPAS.

THE voyage up the river Parana was marked by no
particular incident. The distance to Rosario from
Buenos Ayres is about two hundred and fifty miles,
which was performed by the steamer in about a day and
a half. The river is nearly twenty miles in breadth, and
is completely studded by islands. The scenery is flat
and uninteresting, and the banks^ but poorly wooded.
Our travelers were therefore glad when they arrived at
Rosario. The boys were disappointed at the aspect of
the town, which, although a rising place, contained
under a thousand inhabitants, and looked miserably poor
and squalid after Buenos Ayres. Here they were met by
a gentleman to whom Mr. Thompson had introduced Mr.
Hardy, and with whom he had stayed on his first visit to
Rosario. He had brought horses for themselves, and
bullock carts for their luggage.

"What! are these your boys, Mr. Hardy? I had not
expected to have seen such big fellows. Why, they will
be men in no time."

Charley and Hubert deserved Mr. Percy's commen-
dation. They were now sixteen and fifteen yeaj-s old
respectively, and were remarkably strong,well-grown lads,
looking at least a year older than they really were. In a
few minutes the luggage was packed in two bullock
carts, and they were on their way out to Mr. Percy's sta-
tion, which was about halfway to the camp of Mr,

S4 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Hardy. The word camp in the pampas means station
or property; it is a corruption of the Spanish word
campos, literally plains or meadows.

Here they found that Mr. Percy had most satisfac-
torily performed the commission with which Mr. Hardy
had intrusted him. He had bought a couple of the
rough country bullock carts, three pair of oxen accus-
tomed to the yoke, half a dozen riding horses, two milch
cows, and a score of sheep and cattle to supply the
larder. He had hired four men — a stock-keeper named
Lopez, who was called the capitaz or head man, a tall,
swarthy fellow, whose father was a Spaniard, and his
mother a native woman; two laborers, the one a German,
called Hans, who had been some time in the colony, the
other an Irishman, Terence Kelly, whose face the boys
remembered at once, as having come out in the same ship
with themselves. The last man was an American, one of
those wandering fellows who are never contented to
remain anywhere, but are always pushing on, as if they
thought that the further they went the better they
should fare. He was engaged as carpenter and useful
man, and there were few things to which he could not
turn his hand. Mr. Hardy was pleased with their ap-
pearance; they were all powerful men, accustomed to
work. Their clothes were of the roughest and most mis-
cellaneous kind, a mixture of European and Indian garb,
with the exception of Terence, who still clung to the
long blue-tailed coat and brass buttons of the "ould
country. "

They waited the next day at Mr. Percy's station, and
started the next morning before daylight, as they had
still ten miles to travel, and were desirous of getting as
early to the ground as possible.

The boys were in the highest spirits at being at last
really out upon the pampas, and as day fairly broke

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 35

they had a hearty laugh at the appearance of their caval-
cade. There was no road or track of any kind, and con-
sequently, instead of following in a file, as they would
have done in any other country, the party straggled along
in a confused body. First came the animals — the sheep,
bullocks, and cows. Behind these rode Lopez, in his
guacho dress, and a long whip in his hand, which he
cracked from time to time, with a report like that of a
pistol — not that there was any difficulty in driving the
animals at a pace sufficient to keep well ahead of i\m
bullock carts, for the sheep of the pampas are very mucb
more active beasts than their English relations. Accus-
tomed to feed on the open plains, they travel over a
large extent of ground, and their ordinary pace is four
miles an hour. When frightened, they can go for many
miles at a speed which will tax a good horse to keep up
with. The first bullock cart was driven by Hans, who
sat upon the top of a heap of baggage, his head covered
with a very old and battered Panama hat, through [sev-
eral broad holes in which his red hair bristled out in a
most comic fashion, and over his blue flannel shirt a
large red beard flowed almost to his waist. Terence was
walking by the side of th© second cart in corduroy
breeches and gaiters and blue coat, with a high black
hat, battered and bruised out of all shape, on his head.
In his hand he held a favorite shillalah, which he had
brought with him from his native land, and with the end
of which he occasionally poked the ribs of the oxen, with
many Irish ejaculations, which no doubt alarmed the
animals not a little. The Yankee rode sometimes near
one, sometimes by another, seldom exchanging a word
with any one. He wore a fur cap made of fox's skin; a
faded blanket, with a hole cut in the middle for the head
to go through, fell from his shoulders to his knees.
He and Lopez each led a couple of spare horses. The

*36 OUT ON TEE PAMPAS.

mastiffs trotted along by the horses, and the two
fine retrievers, Dash and Flirt, galloped about over the
plains. The plain across which they were traveling was
ft flat, broken only by slight swells, and a tree here and
there; and the young Hardys wondered not a little how
Lopez, who acted as guide, knew the direction he was to
take.

After three hours' riding Lopez pointed to a rather
larger clump of trees than usual in the distance, and
said, "That is the camp."

"Hurrah," shouted the boys. "May we ride on,
papa?"

"Yes, boys, I will ride on with you." And off they
set, leaving their party to follow quietly.

"Mind how you gallop, boys; the ground is honey-
combed with armadillo holes, and if your horse treads in
one you will go over his head."

"I don't think that I should do that," Charley, who
had a more than sufficiently good opinion of himself,
said; "I can stick on pretty tightly, and — " he had not
time to finish his sentence, for his horse suddenly
seemed to go down on his head, and Charley was sent
flying two or three yards through the air, descending
Tvith a heavy thud upon the soft ground.

He was up in a moment, unhurt, except for a knock
on the eye against his gun, which he was carrying before
him; and after a minute's rueful look he joined heartily
in the shouts of laughter of his father and brother at his
expense. "Ah/Charley, brag is a good dog, but hold-
fast is a better. I never saw a more literal proof of the
saying. There, jump up again, and I need not say look
out for holes."

They were soon off again, but this time at a more mod-
erate pace. This fall was not, by a very long way, the
only one which they had before they had been six

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 37

months upon the plains; for the armadillos were most
abundant, and in the long grass it was impossible to see
their holes. In addition to the armadillos, the ground is
in many paces honeycombed by the bischachas, which
somewhat in size and appearance resemble rabbits, and
by a little burrowing owl.

The Hardys soon crossed a little stream, running east to
fall into the main stream, which formed the boundary of
the property upon that side; and Mr. Hardy told the boys
that they were now upon their own land. There was
another hurrah, and then, regardless of the risk of falls,
they dashed up to the little clump of trees, which stood
upon slightly rising ground. Here they drew rein, and
looked round upon the country which was to be their
home. As far as the eye could reach a flat plain, with a
few slight elevations and some half-dozen trees, ex-
tended. The grass was a brilliant green, for it was now
the month of September. Winter was over, and tho
plain, refreshed by the rains, wore a bright sheet of
green, spangled with innumerable flowers. Objects could
be seen moving in the distance, and a short examination
enabled Mr. Hardy to decide that they were ostriches,
to the delight of the boys, who promised themselves an
early hunt.

"Where have you fixed for the house, papa?" Hubert
asked.

"There, where those three trees are growing upon the
highest swell you can see, about a mile and a half
further. We will go on at once; the others will see us."

Another ten minutes took them to the place Mr.
Hardy had pointed out, and the boys both agreed that
nothing could be better.

At the foot of the slope the river which formed the
eastern boundary flowed, distant a quarter of a mile or
so from the top of the rise. To the right another stream

38 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

came down between the slope and another less elevated
rise beyond. This stream had here rather a rapid fall,
and was distant about three hundred yards from the
intended site of the house. The main river was thirty
or forty yards across, and was now full of water; and
upon its surface the boys could see flocks of ducks,
geese, and other birds. In some places the bank was
bare, but in others thick clumps of bushes and brush-
wood grew beside it.

They now took off the saddles and bridles from their
horses, and allowed them to range as they pleased,
knowing that the native horses were accustomed to be
let free, and that there was no fear of their straying
away. "Now, boys," Mr. Hardy said, "let us begin by
getting our first dinner. You go straight down to the
•water; I will keep to the right. You take Dash, I will
take Flirt."

In another ten minutes the reports of the guns fol-
lowed close upon each other, and the boys had the satis-
faction of knocking down two geese and eight ducks,
which Dash brought ashore, beside others which escaped.
In five minutes more they hsard a shout from their
father, who had bagged two more geese and three ducks.
"That will do, boys; we have got plenty for the next
day or two, and we must not alarm them by too much
slaughter."

"Four geese and eleven ducks, papa, in five minutes,"
the boys said, when they joined Mr. Hardy; "that is not
bad shooting to begin with."

"Not at all, boys. What with wild fowl and armadil-
los, I think that at a pinch we could live for some time
upon the produce of the estate."

"You don't mean to say, papa, that they eat the
armadillos?" Hubert said with a look of suspicion.

"They -do^ndeed, Hubert, and I am told that they are

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 89

not at all bad eating. Now let us go up to the rise
again; our carts must be nearly up."

By the time they reached the three trees they found
that the rest of the cavalcade was within a quarter of a
mile, and in a few minutes they came up.

The cattle and sheep required no attending. Imme-
diately they found that they were not required to go any
further, they scattered and began to graze. The oxen
were unyoked from the carts, and all hands set-to to
unload the miscellaneous collection of goods which had
been brought up. Only the things which Mr. Hardy had
considered as most indispensable for present use had
been brought on, for the steamer from Buenos Ayres did
not carry heavy goods, and the agricultural implements
and other baggage were to come up in a sailing vessel,
and were not expected to arrive for another week.

The carts contained three small portmanteaus with
the clothes of Mr. Hardy and the boys, and a large case
containing the carbines, rifles, and ammunition. There
was a number of canisters with tea, coffee, sugar, salt,
and pepper; a sack of flour; some cooking pots and fry-
ing pans, tin plates, dishes, and mugs; two sacks of coal
and a quantity of firewood; shovels, carpenter's tools, a
sickle, the framework of a hut with two doors and win-
dows, three rolls of felt, a couple of dozen wooden posts,
and two large coils of iron wire. While the others were
busy unloading the German had cut some turf and built
a rough fireplace, and had soon a bright fire blazing.

"Shall we pluck the ducks?" Charley asked.

"I reckon we can manage quicker than that," the
Yankee said; and taking up one of the ducks, he cut off
its head and pinions; in another minute he had roughly
skinned it, and threw it to the German, who cut it up
and put the pieces into the frying pan. A similar
process was performed with the other ducks, a little

40 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

pepper and salt shaken over them, and in a wonderfully
short time the first batch was ready. All drew round
and sat down on the grass; the tin plates were distributed,
but were only used by Mr. Hardy and his sons, the others
simply taking the joints into their hands and cutting off
pieces with their knives. The operation of skinning the
fowls had not been pleasant to look at, and would at any
other time have taken away the boys' appetites; but
their long ride had made them too hungry to be par-
ticular. The result of this primitive cooking was pro-
nounced to be excellent; and after drinking a mug of
tea all felt ready for work.

"What is to be done first, papa?"

"The first thing is to get these posts into the ground,
and to get up a wire fence, so as to make an inclosure
for the animals at night. We will put in five posts each
side, at ten yards apart; that will take eighteen posts.
With the others we can make a division to separate the
sheep from the cattle. Unless we do this some of them
may take it into their heads to start off in the night and
return to their old home."

A spot was soon chosen between the house and the
stream on the right. The distance was soon measured
and marked; and while Hans carried down the heavy
posts one by one on his shoulder, the others went to
work. The soil was soft and rich, and the holes were
dug to the required depth in a shorter time than would
have been considered possible. The wire was stretched
and fastened, and before sunset everything was in readi-
ness. The animals were driven in, and the entrance,
which was narrow, was blocked up with brushwood from
the river. Then followed another half-hour's work in
getting up a small shelter with the cases and some of the
felting, for Mr. Hardy and his sons. By this time all
were really tired, and were glad when Hans summoned

OWT ON THE PAMPAS. 41

them to another meal, this time of one of the sheep.
Then Mr. Hardy and the boys, taking their mugs of tea,
retired into the shelter prepared for them, and sat and
talked over the events of the day, and as to the work for
to-morrow; and then, wrapping themselves up in their
blankets, lay down to sleep, listening for some time
dreamily to the hum of conversation of the men, who
were sitting smoking round the fire, and to the hoarsa
roar of the innumerable frogs in the stream below.

In the morning they were up and abroad with day-
light, and a cup of hot coffee and a piece of bread pre-
pared them for work. Mr. Hardy, his boys, and the
Yankee set-to upon the framework of the two huts;
while the others went down to the stream and cut a
quantity of long, coarse rushes, which they made into
bundles, and brought up to the place of the house in a
bullock cart. The framework for the huts, which were
each about fifteen feet square, was all ready fitted and
numbered: it took, therefore, a very short time to erect;
and when one was done Mr. Hardy and the Yankee set-
to to erect the other at a distance of from forty to fifty
yards, while Charley and Hubert drove in the nails and
secured the work already done.

By dinner-time the work was complete, and a perfect
stack of rushes had been raised in readiness. A great
number of long rods had been cut from the bushes, and
as the most of them were as flexible and tough as wil-
lows they were well suited for the purpose.

After dinner the whole party united their labor to get
one of the huts finished. The rods were split in two,
and were nailed at intervals across the rafters of the
roof. Upon them the long rushes were laid, and over all
the felt was nailed. The sides were treated in the same
way, except that the rushes were woven in and out be-
tween the wattles, so as to make quite a close, compact

42 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

wall, no felt being nailed on it. The other house was
treated in the same way; and it was not until the third
night that both huts were finished and ready for occu-
pancy.

Mr. Hardy and his sons then took possession of the
one near the brow of the hill. This was to be merely a
temporary abode, to be removed when the house was
built. The men had that lower down, and rather nearer
to the cattle. Beds of rushes were piled up in three
corners, and the boys thought that they had never passed
such a delicious night as their first in their new house.
The next day Mr. Hardy told his boys that they should
take a holiday and ride over the place.

The press of work was over, and things would now
settle down in a regular way. Hans and Terence had
taken a contract to dig the holes for the posts of the
strong fence which was to surround the house, including
a space of a hundred yards square. This precaution was
considered to be indispensable as a defense against the
Indians. Seth, the Yankee, had similarly engaged to
dig a well close to the house. No supervision of them
was therefore necessary. Lopez was to accompany them.
Each took a double-barreled gun and a revolver. The
day was very fine — about as hot as upon a warm day in
June in England. Mr. Hardy proposed that they should
first ride westerly as far as the property extended, six
miles from the river; that they should then go to the
south until they reached that boundary, and should fol-
low that to the river, by whose banks they should return,
and bring back a bag of wild fowl for the larder. Quite
a pack of dogs accompanied them — the two mastiffs, the
setters, and four dogs, two of which belonged to Lopez,
and the others to Hans and Seth: these last, seeing that
their masters had no intention of going out, determined
to join the party upon their own account.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 43

These dogs were all mongrels of no particular breed,
but were useful in hunting, and were ready to attack a
fox, an animal which swarms upon the pampas, and does
great damage among the young lambs.

For the first three or four miles nothing was seen save
the boundless green plain, extending in all directions;
and then, upon ascending a slight rise, they saw in the
dip before them two ostriches. Almost simultaneously
the creatures caught sight of their enemies, and went off
at a prodigious rate, followed by the dogs and horsemen.
For a time their pace was so fast that their pursuers
gained but little upon them. Presently, however, the
dogs gained upon one of them, and, by their barking and
snapping at it, impeded its movements. The horsemen
were close together, and the boys had drawn out their
revolvers to fire, when their father cried, "Don't fire,
boys! Watch Lopez."

At this moment the guacho took from the pommel of
his saddle two balls like large bullets, connected with a
long cord. These he whirled round his head, and
launched them at the ostrich. They struck his legs, and
twined themselves round and round, and in another
moment the bird was down in the dust. Before Lopez
could leap to the ground the dogs had killed it, and the
guacho pulled out the tail feathers and handed them to
Mr. Hardy. "Is the flesh good?" Mr. Hardy asked.

"No, seflor; we can eat it when there is nothing else
to be had, but it is not good."

"I am rather glad the other got away," Hubert said.
"It seems cruel to kill them merely for the sake of the
feathers."

"Yes, Hubert; but the feathers are really worth
money," Mr. Hardy said. "I should be the last person
to countenance the killing of anything merely for the
sake of killing; but one kills an ostrich as one would an,
animal with valuable fur. But what is that?"

44: OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

As he spoke the dogs halted in front of a patch of
"bush, barking loudly. The retrievers and the native
dogs kept at a prudent distance, making the most furious
uproar; but the mastiffs approached slowly, with their
coats bristling up, and evidently prepared for a contest
'with a formidable antagonist. "It must be a lion!"
Ziopez exclaimed. "Get ready your revolvers, or he may
injure the dogs."

The warning came too late. In another instant an
animal leaped from the thicket, alighting immediately in
front of Prince and Flora. It was as nearly as possible
the same color as the mastiffs, and perhaps hardly stood
BO high; but he was a much heaver animal, and longer in
the back. The dogs sprang upon it. Prince, who was
first, received a blow with its paw, which struck him
down; but Flora had caught hold. Prince in an instant
joined her, and the three were immediately rolling over
and over on the ground in a confused mass. Mr. Hardy
and Lopez at once leaped from their horses and rushed
to the spot; and the former, seizing his opportunity,
placed his pistol close to the lion's ear, and terminated
the contest in an instant. The animal killed was a
puma, called in South America a lion; which animal,
however, he resembles more in his color than in other
respects. He has no mane, and is much inferior in
power to the African lion. They seldom attack men;
Tsut if assailed are very formidable antagonists. The
present one was, Lopez asserted, a remarkably large one.

Mr. Hardy's first care was to examine the dogs.
Prince's shoulder was laid open by the stroke of the
claws, and both dogs had numerous scratches. Flora
had fortunately seized him by the neck, and he had thus
been unable to use his teeth.

Mr. Hardy determined to return home at once, in
order to dress Prince's shoulder; and leaving Lopez to

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 45

ekin the puma, the rest took their way back. When
they arrived the wounds of the dogs were carefully
washed, and a wet bandage was fastened with some
difficulty upon Prince's wound. Leaving all the dogs
behind, with the exception of the retrievers, Mr. Hardy
and the boys started for a walk along the river, leading
with them a horse to bring back the game, as their
former experience had taught them that carrying half a
dozen ducks and geese under a broiling sun was no joke.
They were longer this time than before in making a good
bag; and after-experience taught them that early in the
morning or late in the evening was the time to go down
to the stream, for at these times flights of birds were con-
stantly approaching, and they could always rely upon
coming home laden after an hour's shooting. Upon the
present occasion, however, they did not do badly, but re-
turned with a swan, three geese, and twelve ducks, just
in time to find the men preparing for dinner.

The next morning the two bullock carts were sent off
with Hans and Terence to Kosario, to fetch the posts for
the fence, together with two more coils of wire, which
had been left there from want of room in the carts when
they came up. Charley was sent with them, in order
that he might find out if the sailing vessel had arrived
with the plows and heavy baggage. While he was
away, Mr. Hardy and Hubert were occupied in making a
complete exploration of the property, and in erecting a
storehouse for the goods.

In five days Charley returned with the carts he had
taken, and with four others which he had hired at
Eosario, bringing the heavy baggage, which had come in
the day after he had arrived there. The goods were
placed for the present in the new store, and then all
hands set to work at the fence. Hans and Terence had
already dug the holes; and the putting in the posts.

46 OUT ON THE PAMPAS

ramming the earth tightly round them, and stretching
the wires, took them two days.

The usual defense in the outlying settlements against
Indians is a ditch six feet wide and as much deep; but a
ditch of this width can be easily leaped, both by men ou
horseback and on foot. The ditch, too, would itself
serve as a shelter, as active men could have no difficulty
in getting out of it, and could surround the house by
creeping along the bottom of the ditch, and then openly
attack all round at once, or crawl up unperceived by
those who were upon the watch on the other side.

The fence had none of these disadvantages. It was six
feet high. The wires were placed at six inches apart for
four feet from the bottom, and at nine inches above that.
Then the upper wires were not stretched quite so tightly
as the lower ones, rendering it extremely difficult to
climb over. In this way an attacking party would have
no protection whatever, and would, while endeavoring
to climb the fence, be helplessly exposed to the fire of
those in the house. Those who got over, too, could re-
ceive no assistance from their comrades without, while
their retreat would be completely cut off.

The gateway to the fence was an ordinary strong iron
gate which Mr. Hardy kad bought at Eosario, and to
which strong pointed palings, six feet long, were lashed
side by side, with intervals of six inches between them.
This was the finishing touch to the fortification; and all
felt when it was done that they could withstand the
attack of a whole tribe of Indians.

The carts were again sent off to Eosario to bring back
some more wood, from which to make the framework of
the house. Hubert this time accompanied them, as Mr.
Hardy wished the boys to become as self-reliant as pos-
sible. He was also to hire three peons, or native
laborers.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 47

Before h& started the plan of the future house was
discussed and agreed upon. In the middle was to be the
general sitting-room, fifteen feet square; upon one side
was the kitchen, fifteen by ten and a half; upon the
other, the servants' bedroom, of the same size; behind
were three bedrooms, twelve feet by fifteen each, all
opening from the sitting-room. The house, therefore,
was to form a block thirty-six feet by thirty.

Upon the side next to the kitchen, and opening from
it, a small square tower with two stories in it was to
stand. It was to be ten feet square; the lower room to
be a laundry and scullery, and the one above, approached
by straight wooden steps, to be the storehouse. The
roof was to be flat, with a parapet three feet high. From
this a clear view could be had over the country for miles,
and the whole circuit of the fence commanded in case of
attack. The walls of the house were to be of adobe or
mud, the internal partitions of sun-baked bricks.

OUT OiV THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER V.
THE SETTLER'S HOME.

JUST before commencing the house Mr. Hardy heard
that a sale of stock was to take place at an estancia about
twenty miles to the west of Rosario, in consequence of
the death of its owner. He therefore took Lopez and
the newly hired peons, and started. He was likely to be
away five days. The boys were to do what work they
judged best in his absence. They determined to set
about brick-making. Fortunately, Hans was accus-
tomed to the work and knew the way that the natives of
the country set about it; the American, Seth, knew
nothing about it, but he was always willing to turn hia
Land to anything. First, a piece of ground was cleared
of grass, and was leveled for the reception of the bricks
when made; then some planks were knocked together so
as to form a rough table. Two brick molds were made,
these being larger than those used in England. A piece
of ground was chosen near. The turf was taken off, the
soil was dug up, and the peons drove the bullocks round
and round upon it, trampling it into a thick mud, some
water being thrown in when necessary.

As it was sufficiently trampled Terence carried it in a
trough and emptied it on to the table close by, where
Hans and Seth fashioned it in the molds, turning the
bricks out on to a plank a foot wide and six feet long.
When this was full the boys took each an end and car-
ried it off to the prepared ground, where they carefully

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 49

removed the bricks with two little slabs of wood, and
placed them on the ground to dry, returning with the
empty plank to find another one filled for them. It was
hard work for all, and from eleven until three the heat
v/as too great to allow them to work at it; but they began
with daylight, and taking a nap during the heat of the
day, were ready to work on again as long as it was light.

The bricks were, of course, to be dried by the sun, as
fuel was too scarce for them to think of burning them;
but this was of little consequence, especially as they were
to be used indoors, the heat of the sun being quite suffi-
cient to make very fair bricks without the use of fire.

By the afternoon of the fifth day they had made a
quantity of bricks which would, they calculated, be
ample for the construction of the partition walls of their
house.

The boys had just deposited the last brick upon the
drying ground, and were moving away, when Hubert
cried, "Stop, Charley, don't move a step."

Startled by the suddenness and sharpness of the cry,
Charley stood without moving, and was surprised to see
his brother pick up one of the wet bricks in both hands,
and dash it upon the ground immediately in front of
where they were walking.

"I've killed him!" Hubert cried triumphantly; and
Charley, looking down, saw a snake of about three feet
long writhing in the grass, his head being completely
driven into the ground under the force of the lump of
wet clay. Two or three stamps of their heavy boots
completed the work. And the men coming up to see
what was the matter, Hans said that Charley, who would
have trodden upon the reptile in another instant had not
his brother called out, had had a very narrow escape, for
that the snake was the vivora de la crux, so called from
a mark like a cross upon his head, and that his bite waa
almost always mortal.

50 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

It was a pretty snake, with bands of red, white, and
black upon his body. Charley grew very pale at the
thought of the narrow escape he had had, and wrung his
brother very hard by the hand; while Hubert was half-
inclined to cry at the thoughts of what might have
happened.

The sun was just setting when they saw a crowd of
objects in the distance; and the boys at once saddled
their horses and rode off, to meet their father and to
assist to drive in the animals. They found, upon reach-
ing him, that he had bought a thousand sheep, fifty
cattle, and twenty horses; three of these last being re-
markably well bred, and fast, and bought specially for
their own riding. Upon their arrival at the house the
sheep were turned into the inclosure, the horses were
picketed, and the cattle left to roam at their will, as it
was not thought probable that they would attempt to
return to their distant homes, especially after two days'
fatiguing march.

Mr. Hardy was very much pleased at the sight of the
long rows of bricks lying in front of the house, and gave
great credit to all for the amount of work which, had
been done during his few days' absence. The next
morning he assigned to every one their share of the
future work. Lopez and one of the peons went out with
the horses, cattle, and sheep. After a time it would not
be necessary to have two men employed for this work, as
the cattle and horses, when they once became accustomed
to their new home, would never wander very far.
Charley, Hubert, and Terence were to take three yoke of
oxen and the three plows, and to commence to get the
land in order for cultivation; the ground selected as a
beginning being that lying below the house near the
river. Mr. Hardy, Hans, and the two peons were to
work at the house, and Seth was to finish the well,

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 51

•which, although begun, had been stopped during the
press of more urgent work, and the water required had
been fetched from the stream in a barrel placed in a
bullock cart. The way in which adobe or mud houses
are constructed is as follows: The mud is prepared as
for brick-making; but instead of being made into bricks,
it is made at once into the wall. The foundation having
been dug out and leveled, two boards are placed on edge
eighteen inches or two feet apart. These are kept in
their places by two pieces of wood nailed across them.
The space between these boards is filled with mud, in
which chopped hay and rushes have been mixed to bind
it together. The boards are left for a day or two, while
the builders proceed with the other part of the wall.
They are then taken off, and the heat of the sun soon
dries the wall into a mass almost as hard as a brick. The
boards are then put on again higher up, and the process
repeated until the walls have gained the desired height.

In a fortnight's time the walls were finished, and the
bullock carts were dispatched to Rosario to fetch lime,
as Mr. Hardy had determined to plaster the inside "walls
to keep in the dust, which is otherwise continually com-
ing off mud walls. By this time a considerable extent of
land was plowed up, and this was now planted with
maize, yam or sweet potato, and pumpkins: a small
portion, as an experiment, was also planted with potato
seeds, but the climate is almost too warm for the potato
to thrive.

Upon the return of the carts with the lime the parti-
tion walls were built with the bricks. The walls finished,
all hands went to work at the roof. This Mr. Hardy had
intended to have had regularly thatched; but during his
last visit to Rosario he had heard that the Indians fre-
quently endeavored in their attacks to set fire to the roofs,
and he therefore determined to use tiles. The carts had

£g OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

to make two journeys to Rosario to get sufficient tiles
and lath. But at last all was finished; the walls were
plastered inside and whitewashed out; the floor was
leveled, beaten down hard, and covered with a mixture
of clay and lime, which hardened into a firm, level floor.

It was exactly two months from the date of their
arrival at the farm that the doors were hung and the
finishing touch put to the house, and very pleased were
they all as they gave three cheers for their new abode.
The tower, they all agreed, was an especial feature. It
was built of adobe up to the height of the other walls,
but the upper story had been built of bricks two thick
and laid in mortar. The top had been embattled; and
the boys laughed, and said the house looked exactly like
a little dissenting chapel at home.

It was a joyful day when a fire was first lighted iu
the kitchen chimney, which, with that in the sitting-
room, was lined with bricks; and the whole party sat
down to a dinner of mutton and wild fowl of three or
four sorts.

The same evening Mr. Hardy told the boys that he
should start the next day to bring up their mamma and
the girls, who were all getting very impatient indeed to
be out upon the pampas. He explained to them that he
should bring up iron bedsteads with bedding, but that he
relied upon them to increase their stock of tables and
benches, and to put up shelves, which would do until
regular cupboards and closets could be made. Mr.
Hardy thought that he should not be away much more
than a week, as, by making a long ride to Rosario the
next day he should catch the boat, which left the follow-
ing morning for Buenos Ayres; and as he had already
written to Mr. Thompson saying when he should prob-
ably arrive, there would be no time lost. The next
morning he started before daylight, the last words of tho

0 UT ON THE PAMPAS. 53

boys being: "Be sure, papa, to bring the mosquito cur-
tains for us all; they are getting worse and worse. We
hardly closed an eye all last night."

Hot as the weather now was, the boys worked inces-
santly at their carpentering for the next week, and at the
end had the satisfaction of seeing a large table for din-
ing at in the sitting-room, and a small one to act as a
sideboard, two long benches, and two short ones. In
their mother and sisters' rooms there were a table and
two benches, and a table and a long flap to serve as a
dresser in the kitchen. They had also put up two long
shelves in each of the bedrooms, and some nails on the
doors for dresses. They were very tired at the end of
the week, but they looked round with a satisfied look,
for they knew they had done their best. The next
morning they were to ride to Rosario to meet the party.
The carts had gone off under the charge of Terence that
day.

It was indeed a joyful meeting when Mr. and Mrs.
Hardy and the girls stepped off the steamer; but the
first embrace was scarcely over when the boys exclaimed
simultaneously, "Why, girls, what is the matter with
your faces? I should not have known you."

"Oh, it's those dreadful mosquitoes; there were millions
on board the steamer last night. I really thought we
should have been eaten up. Didn't you, mamma ?"

"Well, my dear, I thought that they would perhaps
leave something of us till morning, but I felt almost
inclined to go mad and jump overboard. It was a dread-
ful night. I do hope they are not so bad here, Frank?"

"No, Clara, they are nothing like so bad as they were
last night; but still, as we are so close to the river, they
•will, no doubt, be troublesome, and I question whether the
beds at the hotel have mosquito curtains; but if you take
my advice, and all sleep with the sheet over your heads,

54 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

you will manage to do pretty well. It is better to be hot
than to be bitten all over."

In spite, however, of the expedient of the sheets, all
the party passed a bad night, and were quite ready to
get up before daylight to start for their ride to Mr.
Percy's estancia. They were all to ride, with the excep-
tion of Sarah, who took her place in one of the bullock
carts; and they would therefore reach the estancia before
the heat of the day fairly set in. Terence having been
told that Sarah was going to ride, had cut some boughs,
with which he made a sort of arbor over the cart to shade
her from the sun — a general method of the country, and
at which Sarah was much gratified. She had at first felt
rather anxious at the thought of going without her mis-
tress; but Terence assured her: "Sure, miss, and it's
meself, Terence Kelly, that will take care of ye; and no
danger shall come near your pretty face at all, at all;
ye'll be quite as safe as if ye were in the aulcl country.
And as for the bastes, sure and it's the quietest bastes
they are, and niver thought of running away since the
day they were born."

So Sarah took her place without uneasiness, and the
others started at a hand canter for Mr. Percy's estancia.

While at Mr. Thompson's both Mrs. Hardy and the
girls had ridden regularly every day, so that all were
quite at their ease on their horses, and were able to talk
away without ceasing of all that had happened since
they parted. The only caution Mr. Hardy had to give,
with a side look at Charley, was, "Look out for armadillo
holes; because I have known fellows who were wonder-
ful at sticking on their horses come to grief at them."

At which Hubert laughed; and Charley said, "Oh,
papa!" and colored up and laughed, as was his way
when his father joked him about his little weaknesses.

They had not gone more than halfway before they

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 55

met Mr. Percy, who had ridden thus far to welcome his
guests, for English ladies are very scarce out on the
pampas, and are honored accordingly. One of the first
questions the girls asked after the first greetings were
over was, "Have you many mosquitoes at your estancia,
Mr. Percy?"

"Not many," Mr. Percy said; "I have no stream near,
and it is only near water that they are so very bad."

After waiting during the heat of the day at Mr.
Percy's, the boys rode on home, as six guests were alto-
gether beyond Mr. Percy's power of accommodating.

The next morning the boys were up long before day-
light, and went down to the stream, where, as day broke,
they managed to shoot a swan and five wild ducks, and
with these they returned to the house. Then they
swept the place with the greatest care, spread the table,
arranged the benches, set everything off to the best ad-
vantage, and then devoted their whole energies to cook-
ing a very excellent breakfast, which they were sure the
travelers would be ready for upon their arrival. This
was just ready, when, from the lookout on the tower,
they saw the party approaching. The breakfast was too
important to be left, and they were therefore unable to
ride out to meet them. They were at the gate, however,
as they rode up.

"Hurrah, hurrah!" they shouted, and the girls set up
a cheer in return.

The men ran up to take the horses, and in another
minute the whole party were in their new home. The
girls raced everywhere wild with delight, ascended to
the lookout, clapped their hands at the sight of the sheep
and cattle, and could hardly be persuaded to take their
things off and sit down to breakfast.

Mrs. Hardy was less loud in her commendation of
everything, but she was greatly pleased with her new

66 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

home, which was very much more finished and com*
fortable than she had expected.

"This is fun, mamma, isn't it?" Maud said. "It is
just like a picnic. How we shall enjoy it, to be snrel
May we set-to at once after breakfast, and wash up?"

"Certainly, Maud; Sarah will not be here for another
two hours, and it is as well that you should begin to
make yourselves useful at once. We shall all have to be
upon our mettle, too. See how nicely the boys have
cooked the breakfast. These spatch-cock ducks are
excellent, and the mutton chops done to a turn. They
will have a great laugh at us, if we, the professed cooks,
do not do at least as well."

"Ah, but look at the practice they have been having,
mamma."

"Yes, Maud," Hubert said; "and I can tell you it is
only two or three things we can do well. Ducks and
geese done like this, and chops and steaks, are about the
limits. If we tried anything else, we made an awful
mess of it: as to puddings, we never attempted them;
and shall be very glad of something in the way of bread,
for we are heartily sick of these flat, flabby cakes."

"Why have you only whitewashed this high middle
wall halfway up, Frank?"

"In the first place, my dear, we fell short of white-
wash; and, in the next place, we are going to set to work
at once to put a few light rafters across, and to nail felt
below them, and whitewash it so as to make a ceiling.
It will make the rooms look less bare, and, what is much
more important, it will make them a great deal cooler."

"You get milk, I hope?"

"Yes," Charley said; "two of the cows of the last lot
papa bought arc accustomed to be milked, and Hubert
and I have done it up till now; but we shall hand them
over to you, and you girls will have to learn."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 5f

Maud and Ethel looked at each other triumphantly.
"Perhaps we know more than you think," Ethel said.

"Yes," Mrs. Hardy said; "the girls are going to be
two very useful little women. I will tell you a secret.
While you boys were at work of a morning, the girls, as
yon know, often walked over to Mr. Williams the
farmer's, to learn as much as they could about poultry,
of which he kept a great many. Mrs. Williams saw how
anxious they were to learn to be useful, so she offered to
teach them to milk, and to manage a dairy, and make
butter and cheese. And they worked regularly, till Mrs.
Williams told me she thought that they could make
butter as well as she could. It has been a great secret,
for the girls did not wish even their papa to know, so
that it might be a surprise."

"Very well done, little girls," Mr. Hardy said; "it is
a surprise indeed, and a most pleasant one. Mamma
kept your secret capitally, and never as much as whis-
pered a word to me about it."

The boys too were delighted, for they had not tasted
butter since they arrived, and they promised readily
enough to make a rough churn with the least possible
delay.

By ten o'clock the carts arrived with Sarah and the
luggage, and then there was work for the afternoon,
putting up the bedsteads, and getting everything into
order. The mosquito curtains were fitted to the beds,
and ail felt gratified at the thought that they should be
able to set the little bloodsuckers at defiance. The next
day was Sunday, upon which, as usual, no work was to
be done. After breakfast the benches were brought in
from the bedrooms, and the men assembling, Mr. Hardy
read prayers, offering up a special prayer for the blessing
and protection of God upon their household. Afterward
Mrs. Hardy and the girls were taken over the place, and

58 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

shown the storehouse, and the men's tent, and the river,
and the newly planted field.

"The ground is getting very much burned up, papa/5
Charley said. "It was damp enough when we put in the
crops, and they are getting on capitally; but I fear that
they were sown too late, and will be burned up."

"Ah, but I have a plan to prevent that/' Mr. Hardy
said. "See if you can think what it is."

Neither of the boys could imagine.

"When I first described the place to you, I told you
that there was a main stream with a smaller one running
into it, and that I thought that this last would be very
useful. I examined the ground very carefully, and I
found that the small stream runs for some distance be-
tween two slight swells, which narrow in sharply to each
other just below the house. Now I find that a dam of
not more than fifty feet wide and eight feet high will
make a sort of lake a quarter of a mile long, and averag-
ing fifty yards wide. From this the water will flow over
the whole flat by the river in front of the house and away
to the left, and we shall be able to irrigate at least three
or four hundred acres of land. Upon these we shall be
able to raise four or five crops a year; and one crop in
particular, the alfalfa, a sort of lucern for fattening the
cattle in time of drought, when the grass is all parched
up. At that time cattle ordinarily worth only fifteen
dollars can be sold, if fat, for forty-five or fifty dollars.
So you see, boys, there is a grand prospect before us."

The boys entered enthusiastically into the scheme,
and the party went at once to inspect the spot which
Mr. Hardy had fixed upon for the dam. This, it was
agreed, should be commenced the very next day; and
Mr. Hardy said that he had no doubt, if the earth was
properly puddled, or stamped when wet, that it would
keep the water from coming through.

®UT ON THE PAMPAS. §9

In the afternoon Mrs. Hardy, Maud, and Ethel were
taken a ride round the property, and were fortunate
enough to see some ostriches, to the great delight of the
girls.

At tea Mr. Hardy said: "There is one very important
point connected with our place which has hitherto been
unaccountably neglected. Do any of you know what
it is?"

The boys and their sisters looked at each other in
great perplexity, and in vain endeavored to think of any
important omission.

"I mean," their father said at last, "the place has no
name. I suggest that we fix upon one at once. It is
only marked in the government plan as Lot 473. Now,
what name shall it be?"

Innumerable were the suggestions made, but none met
with universal approbation. At last Mrs. Hardy said:
"I have heard in England of a place called Mount Pleas-
ant, though I confess I do not know where it is. Now,
what do you say to Mount Pleasant? It is a mount, and
we mean it to be a very pleasant place before we have
done with it."

The approval of the suggestion was general, and amid
great applause it was settled that the house and estate
should hereafter go by the name of "Mount Pleasant."

In the morning the boys were at work at two wheel-
barrows, for which Mr. Hardy had brought out wheels
and ironwork; and Mr. Hardy and the men went down
to the stream, and began to strip off the turf and to dig
out a strip of land twenty-five feet wide along the line
where the dam was to come. The earth was then wetted
and puddled. When the barrows were completed they
were brought into work; and in ten days a dam was
raised eight feet high, three feet wide at the top, and
twenty-five feet wide at the bottom. In the middle a

60 0 UT ON THE PAMPAS.

space of two feet wide was left, through which the little
stream at present ran. Two posts, with grooves in them,
were driven in, one upon either side of this; and thus
the work was left for a few days, for the sun to bake its
surface, while the men were cutting a trench for the
water to run down to the ground to be irrigated.

A small sluice was put at the entrance to this, to regu-
late the quantity of water to be allowed to flow, and all
was now in readiness to complete the final operation of
closing up the dam. A quantity of earth was first col-
lected and puddled, and piled on the top of the dam and
on the slopes by its side, so as to be in readiness, and
Mrs. Hardy and the girls came down to watch the opera-
tion.

First a number of boards two feet long, and cut to fit
the grooves, were slipped down into them, forming a
solid wall, and then upon the upper side of these the
puddled earth was thrown down into the water, Terence
standing below in the stream and pounding down the
earth with a rammer. The success was complete: in a
couple of hours' time the gap in the dam was filled up,
and they had the satisfaction of seeing the little stream
overflowing its banks and widening out above, while not
a drop of water made its escape by the old channel.

While this work had been going on the boys had been
engaged up at the house. The first thing was to make a
churn, then to put up some large closets and some more
shelves, and the bullock carts had to be sent to Eosario
for a fresh supply of planks. This occupied them until
the dam was finished. The girls had tried their first
experiment at butter, and the result had been most satis-
factory. The dinners, too, were pronounced to be an
immense improvement upon the old state of things.

Soon after the dam was finished Hans, who had been
too long a rover to settle down, expressed his desire to

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. fl

leave; and as Mr. Hardy had determined to lessen his
establishment — as, now that the heavy work was over, it
was no longer necessary to keep so many hands — he
offered no objection to his leaving without the notice he
had agreed to give. Wages were high, and Mr. Hardy
was desirous of keeping his remaining capital in hand,
in case of his sheep and cattle being driven off by the
Indians. One of the peons was also discharged, and
there remained only Lopez, Seth, Terence, and two
peons.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS,

CHAPTER VI.

A TALE OF THE MEXICAN WAR.

MB. HARDY was rather surprised at Seth Harper, the
Yankee, having remained so long in his service, as the
man had plainly stated, when first engaged, that he
thought it likely that he should not fix himself, as he ex-
pressed it, for many weeks. However, he stayed on,
and had evidently taken a fancy to the boys; and was
still more interested in the girls, whose talk and ways
must have been strange and very pleasant to him after so
many years7 wandering as a solitary man. He was gen-
erally a man of few words, using signs where signs would
suffice, and making his answers, when obliged to speak,
as brief as possible. This habit of taciturnity was no
doubt acquired from a long life passed either alone or
amid dangers where an unnecessary sound might have
cost him his life. To the young people, however, he
would relax from his habitual rule of silence. Of an
evening, when work was over, they would go down to
the bench he had erected outside his hut, and would ask
him to tell them tales of his Indian experiences. Upon
one of these occasions Charley said to him: "But of all
the near escapes that you have had, which was the most
hazardous you ever had? which do you consider was the
narrowest touch you ever had of being killed?"

Seth considered for some time in silence, turned his
plug of tobacco in his mouth, expectorated two or three
times, as was hii custom when thinking, and then said,

OUT ON TEE PAMPAS. 63

"That's not altogether an easy question to answer. I've
been so near wiped out such scores of times, that it ain't
no easy job to say which was the downright nearest. In
thinking it over, I conclude sometimes that one go was
the nearest, sometimes that another; it ain't no ways
easy to say now. But I think that, at the time, I never
so much felt that Seth Harper's time for going down had
come, as I did in an affair near San Louis."

"And how was that, Seth? Do tell us about it,"
Maud said.

"It's rather a long story, that is," the Yankee said.

"All the better, Seth," Charley said; "at least all the
better as far as we are concerned, if you don't mind tell-
ing it."

"No, I don't mind, no how," Seth answered. "I'll
just think it over, and see where to begin."

There was a silence for a few minutes, and the young
Hardys composed themselves comfortably for a good long
sitting, and then Seth Harper began his story.

"Better than five years back, in '47, 1 were fighting in
Mexico. It wasn't much regular up and down fighting
we had, though we had some toughish battles too, but it
were skirmishing here, skirmishing there, keeping one
eye always open, for man, woman, and child hated ua
like pison, and it was little mercy that a straggler might
expect if he got caught away from his friends. Their
partisans chiefs, half-soldier, half-robber, did us more
harm than the regulars, and mercy was never given or
asked between them and us. Me and Rube Pearson
worked mostly together. We had 'fit' the Indians out
on the prairies for years side by side, and when Uncle
Sam wanted men to lick the Mexicans, we concluded to
go in together. We 'listed as scouts to the 'Rangers/
that is, we agreed to fight as much as we were wanted to
fight, and to go on in front as scouts, in which way we

6± OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

had many a little skrimmage on our own account; but
we didn't wear any uniform, or do drill, which couldn't
have been expected of us. We shouldn't have been no
good as regulars, and every one knew that there were no
better scouts in the army than Rube Pearson and Seth
Harper. Lor', what a fellow Eube was, to be sure! I
ain't a chicken," and the Yankee looked down at his
own bony limbs, "but I was a baby by the side of Rube.
He were six feet four if he were an inch, and so broad
that he looked short unless you saw him by the side of
another man. I do believe Eube Pearson were the
strongest man in the world. I have heard," Seth went
on, meditating, "of a chap called Samson: folks say ha
were a strong fellow. I never came across any one who
had rightly met him, but a good many have heard speak
of him. I should like to have seen him and Rube in the
grips. I expect Rube would have astonished him.
Rube came from Missouri — most of them very big chaps
do. I shouldn't wonder if Samson did, though I never
heard for certain."

The young Hardys had great difficulty to prevent
themselves from laughing aloud at Seth's idea on the
subject of Samson. Charley, however, with a great
effort, steadied himself to say, "Samson died a great
many years ago, Seth. His history is in the Bible."

"Is it, though?" Seth said, much interested. "Well
now, what did he do?"

"He carried away the gates of Gaza on his back, Seth."

Seth remained thoughtful for some time. "It all
depends on how big the gates were," he said at last.
"That gate down there is a pretty heavyish one, but
Rube Pearson could have carried away two sich as that,
and me sitting on the top of them. What else did he
do?"

"He was bound in new cords, and he broke them
asunder, Seth."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 65

Seth did not appear to attach much importance to
this, and inquired, "Did he do anything else?"

"He killed three hundred men with the jawbone of
an ass."

"He killed — " Seth began, and then paused in sheer
astonishment. Then he looked sharply round: "You're
making fun of me, lad."

"No, indeed, Seth," Charley said; "it is quite true."

"What! that a man killed three hundred men with
the jawbone of an ass? It couldn't have been; it was
sheer impossible — unless they were all asleep, and even
then it would be an awful job."

"I don't know how it was, Seth, but the Bible tells us,
and so it must be true. I think it was a sort of miracle."

"Oh, it was a miracle!" Seth said thoughtfully, and
then remained silent, evidently pondering in his own
mind as to what a miracle was, but not liking to ask.

"It was a very long time ago, Seth, and they were no
doubt a different people then."

"Was it a very, very long time back?" Seth asked.

"Yes, Seth; a very, very, very long time."

"Ah!" Seth said in a thoughtful but more satisfied
tone, "I understand now. I expect it's that. It's the
same thing among the Indians: they have got stories of
chiefs who died ever so long ago, who used to be tremen-
dous fellows — traditions they call 'em. I don't expect
they were any braver than they are now; but a thing
grows, you see, like a tree, with age. Lor' bless 'em! if
they tell such tales now about a Jew, what will they do
some day about Kube Pearson?"

The young Hardys could stand it no longer, but went
off into a scream of laughter, which even the surprised
and offended looks of the ignorant and simple minded,
but shrewd, Yankee could not check. So offended was
he, indeed, that no entreaties or explanations were su£fi«

06 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

cient to mollify him, and the story was abruptly broken
off. It was not for two or three days that the boys' ex-
planation and assurance sufficed; and then, when
Charley had explained the whole history of Samson to
him, he said:

"I have no doubt that it is all true, and I wish I could
read it for myself. I can just remember that my mother
put a great store on her Bible, and called it the good
book. I can't read myself, and shouldn't have time to
do it if I could; so it's all one as far as that goes. I am
just a hunter and Indian fighter, and I don't know that
for years I have ever stopped so long under a roof as I
have here. My religion is the religion of most of us out
on the prairies. Be honest and true to your word.
Stick to a friend to death, and never kill a man except
in fair fight. That's about all, and I hope it will do; at
any rate, it's too late for me to try and learn a new one
now. I listen on a Sunday to your father's reading, and
I wish sometimes I had been taught; and yet it's better
as it is. A man who acted like that wouldn't be much
good for a rough life on the prairies, though I have no
doubt it could be done in the settlements. Now I must
go on with my work. If you and the others will come
over to the hut this evening I will go on with that yam
I was just beginning. "

After tea the young Hardys went down to the hut, out-
side which they found Seth awaiting their arrival. They
were now comfortably seated, and Seth, without further
introduction, went on.

"One day our captain sent for Rube and me, and says,
'I've got a job for you two scouts. It's a dangerous one,
but you won't like it any the worse for that, I know.'

" 'Not a bit/ said Rube with a laugh. He was the
lightest-hearted fellow, was Rube; always gay and jolly,
and wouldn't have hurt a squirrel, except in stand-up
fight and as a matter of business.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 67

T

" 'What is it, Gap?' said I; 'you've only got to give us
the word, and we're on*.'

" 'I've had a message/ he said, 'from Colonel Cabra
of their service, that he is ready to turn traitor, and hand
us over some correspondence of Santa Anna, of which he
lias somehow got possessed. Being a traitor, he won't
trust any one, and the only plan we can hit upon is, that
he shall make a journey to San Miguel, thirty miles
north of this, as if on business. I am to make an expe-
dition in that direction, and am to take him prisoner.
He will then hand over the papers. We shall bring him
lere, and, after keeping him for a time, let him go on.
jarole. No suspicion will therefore at any future time
arise against him, which there might be if we met in any
other way. The papers are very important, and the
affair must not be suffered to slip through. The coun-
try between this and San Miguel is peaceful enough, but
•we hear that El Zeres' band is out somewhere in that di-
rection. He has something like two hundred cutthroats
with him of his own, and there is a rumor that other
bands have joined him. Now I want you to go on to-
morrow to San Miguel. Go in there after dusk, and take
up your quarters at this address; it is a small wine-shop
In a street off the market. Get up as Mexicans; it only
requires a big cloak and a sombrero. You can both
speak Spanish well enough to pass muster. Stay all
next day, and till daybreak on the morning afterward,
and then ride back on this road. You will find cut in
the first place whether Cabra has arrived, and in the next
place whether El Zeres is in the neighborhood. I shall
only bring forty men, as I do not wish it to be supposed
that I am going on more than a mere scouting expedi-
tion. You understand?'

" 'All right, Cap; we'll do it,' I said, and we went off
to our quartere.

68 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"I can't say I altogether liked the job. It was a long
way from headquarters, and, do what they may, two men
can't fight more than, say, ten or a dozen. I was rather
surprised to see by Rube's face that he rather liked it;
but I did not find out till late that night what it was
pleased him — then the truth came out.

" 'We had better start early, Seth,' said he; 'say at
daybreak.'

" 'What for, Rube?' I said; 'the Cap said we were to
go in after dusk. It's only thirty miles; we shan't want
to start till three o'clock.'

"Rube laughed. 'I don't want to get there before
dusk, but I want to start at daybreak, and I'll tell you
why. You remember Pepita?'

" 'There,' said I, 'if I didn't think it had something
to do with a woman. You are always running after
some one, Rube. They will get you into a scrape some
day.'

"Rube laughed. 'I am big enough to get out of it if
it does, Seth; but you know I did feel uncommon soft
toward Pepita, and really thought of marrying and
taking her back to Missouri.'

" 'Only she wouldn't come, Rube?'

" 'Just so, Seth,' said he, laughing. So we agreed
we would be the best friends; and she asked me, if ever
I went out to San Miguel, to go and see her. She said
her father was generally out, but would be glad to see me
if he were in. She lives in a small hacienda, a league
this side of the town.

"I saw that it was of no use to argue, but I didn't like
it. The Mexican women hated us worse than the men
did, and that warn't easy to do; and many of our fellows
had been murdered after being enticed by them to out-
of-the-way places. Still, in the present case, I did not
see that the girl could have expected that Rube would

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 69

be there unless the rest of us were near at hand, and I
did not attempt to oppose Rube's wishes.

"So next morning off we started, and by ten o'clock
•we rode up to the door of the place which Eube said an-
swered to the description Pepita had given him. It was a
pretty place, with trees round it, and might have been
the residence of a small proprietor such as Pepita had
described her father to be. As we rode up to the door ifc
opened, and I saw at once that Rube were right, for a
dark-eyed Mexican girl came out and looked at us
inquiringly.

" 'What can I do for you, sefiors?' she asked.

" 'Don't you remember me, Donna Pepita?' Rube said,
laughing, as he lifted the sombrero which had shaded his
face.

"The girl started violently. 'Ah, Signer Americano,
is it you? I might have known, indeed/ she said, smil-
ing, 'by your size, even wrapped up. This, of course, 13
Signor Seth — you are always together. But come in/
she said.

" 'Who have you got inside, Donna Pepita?' Rube
asked. 'I know that I can trust you, but I can't trust
others, and I don't want it known I am here.'

" 'The house is empty/ Pepita said. 'My father is
out. There is only old Jacinta at home/

"At this moment an 'old woman made her appearance
at the door, and at a word from Pepita took our horses,
while Pepita signed to us to enter.

" 'Excuse me, signora/ I said. 'We will go first and
see our horses stabled. Tt is our custom; one never
knows when he may want them/

"I thought Pepita looked annoyed, but it was only
for a moment, and then she said something in one of the
country dialects to the old woman. She nodded her
head, and went off round to the back of the house, we

70 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

leading our horses, and following her. The stables, I
observed, were singularly large and well kept for a house
of its size; but, to my surprise, instead of going to the
long range of buildings, the old woman led the way to a
small shed.

" 'Ain't these stables?' said I.

"She shook her head, and said in Spanish, 'They were
once, but we have only two horses. Now they are used
as a store for grain; the master has the key.'

"I could not contradict her, though I believed she was
telling me a lie. However, we fastened our horses up in
the shed, put the pistols from our holsters into our belts,
and, taking our rifles in our hands, entered the house.

"Pepita received us very warmly, and busied herself
assisting the old woman to get us something to eat; after
which she and Eube began love-making, and it really
seemed as if the girl meant to change her mind, and go
back with Eube, after all. There was nothing, in fact,
to justify my feeling uneasy, except that, while Pepita
had promised me when I entered the house not to tell
the old woman who we were, I was convinced that she
had done so by the glances of scowling hatred which the
old hag threw at us whenever she came into the room.
Still I was uneasy, and shortly made some excuse to leave
the room and saunter round and about the house, to
assure myself that Pepita had spoken truly when she
had said that there was no one there except the old
woman and 'herself. I found nothing to excite the
smallest suspicion, and was therefore content to return
to the room and to throw myself lazily down and go off
for a siesta, in the wakeful intervals of which I could
hear that Pepita had given way, and that the delighted
Rube was arranging with her how she should escape and
join him when the army retired; for of course neither
had any idea that her father would consent to her marry-
ing one of the hated enemies of his country.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 71

"At three o'clock I roused myself and soon after the
old woman came into the room with some lemonade. I
observed that Pepita changed color, but she said nothing,
and a moment after, making some excuse, she left the
room. I was about to speak to Kube on the subject,
when the window was darkened with men. Five or six
shots were fired at us, and with a yell a crowd of Mexicans
rushed into the room.

"As they appeared Eube sprang up with the exclama-
tion, 'Trapped, by thunder!' and then fell flat on his
back, shot, I believed, through the head.

"I rushed to my rifle, seized it, but before I could get
it to my shoulder it was knocked from my hand. Half a
dozen fellows threw themselves upon me, and I was a
prisoner. I didn't try to resist when they laid hands on
me, because I knew I should have a knife in me at once;
and though I knew my life was not worth an hour's pur-
chase—no, nor five minutes' — after I was caught, still
upon the whole it was as well to live that five minutes as
not.

"There was such a hubbub and a shouting at first that
I couldn't hear a word, but at last I picked up that they
were a party of the band of El Zeres, who was in the
neighborhood, and had been fetched by a boy that
traitress Pepita had dispatched for them directly we
arrived. Pepita herself was wife of one of the other
chiefs of the band. Much fun was made of poor Kube
and myself about our courting. I felt mad with myself
for having been caught so foolishly. I couldn't feel
angry with Eube, with him lying dead there, but I was
angry with myself for having listened to him. I
oughtn't to have allowed him to have his own way.
I warn't in love, and I ought to have known that a man's
head, when he's after a gal, is no more use than a
pumpkin. While I was thinking this out in my mind I

72 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

had my eyes fixed upon poor Rube, whom no one
thought of noticing, when all of a sudden I gave quite a
start, for I saw him move. I couldn't see his face, hut I
saw a hand stealing gradually out toward the leg of a
man who stood near. Then there was a pause, and then
the other hand began to move. It wasn't at all like the
aimless way that the arms of a badly hit man would
move, and J saw at once that Kube had been playing
'possum' all along."

"Doing what, Seth?" Ethel asked.

"Just pretending to be dead. I held my breath, for I
saw he had come to the conclusion that he could not be
overlooked much longer, and was going to make a move.

"In another minute there was a crash and a shout as
the two men fell to the ground with their legs knocked
clean from under them, catching hold of other men and
dragging them down with them. From the midst of the
confusion Eube leaped to his feet and made a rush for
the window; one man he leveled with a blow of his fist;
another he caught up as if he had been a baby, and hurl-
ing him against two others, brought them on the ground
together, and then leaping over their bodies, dashed
through the window before the Mexicans had recovered
from their astonishment. I could have laughed out loud
at the yell of rage and amazement with which they set off
in pursuit; but two or three of them remained to guard
me, and I might have got a knife in my ribs, so I kept
quiet. I did just feel so glad to see Kube was alive, that
I hardly remembered that it warn't likely that either he
or I would be so long, for I did not for a moment expect
that he would make good his escape. The odds were too
great against it, especially in broad daylight. Even on
horseback it would be next to impossible. No one but
Rube would have attempted such a thing; but he never
stopped to think about odds or chances when his dander

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 73

was up. In less than no time I heard a shot or two, then
there was a silence for a time, then a shout of triumph.
I knew it was all over, and that Rube was taken again.

"He told me afterward that he had made a dash round
to the stable, where he had found seven or eight Mexi-
cans looking after the horses; that he had knocked down
one or two who were in his way, had leaped upon the
nearest animal, and had made off at the top of his speed,
but that a dozen others were after him in an instant;
and seeing that he would be lassoed and thrown from his
horse, he had stopped and thrown up his arms in token
of surrender. Rube's hands were bound tightly behind
him, and he was led back into the room.

"He gave a loud laugh when he saw me: 'That was a
boy's trick; wasn't it, Seth? But I couldn't have
helped it if I had been shot a minute afterward. There
were those fellows' legs moving about me just as if I was
a log of wood. The thoughts came across me, "A good
sharp rap above the ankle and over you'd go;" and when
I'd once thought of it, I was obliged to do it. It was
fun, though, Seth; wasn't it?'

" 'It was, as you say, Rube, a boy's trick, and just at
present is hardly the time for that. But don't let us
say anything we don't want overheard, Rube; some of
these fellows may understand.'

" 'Right you are, Seth. I am main sorry, old hoss,
that I've got you into this scrape, but I expect we shall
get out again somehow. I don't think Rube Pearson is
going to be wiped out yet.

"I hoped not too. I warn't a bit tired of life, but I did
not see my way out of it. However, I had one comfort:
I knew if any two men could get out of an ugly mess,
those two men were Rube and I.

"We were now told to sit down on the ground in one
corner of the room, two fellows taking up their station

74 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

by our sides. Then there was a hot discussion about our
fate, which warn't exactly pleasant to listen to. Some
were in favor of hanging us at once, but the majority
were for taking us to the main body under El Zeres him-
self, because the chief woulfl be so glad to have us in his
power. He had frequently vowed vengeance against us,
for we were known as the most active scouts in the army,
and had led troops in his pursuit many a time, and had
once or twice come very near to catching him. He had
vowed solemnly to his patron saint that if we fell into
his hands he would put us to death with unheard-of tor-
tures; and as El Zeres was rather celebrated that way —
and it was the anticipation of an unusual treat which
decided the majority to reserve us — it warn't altogether
pleasant to listen to. But we put a good face on the
matter, for it would never have done to let those Mexi-
can varmints see that two backwoodsmen who had 'fit*
them and beaten them time after time were afraid to die
when their time came. Presently there was a little stir,
and Pepita came into the room. I rather think that,
though the girl hated us like pison, she didn't like to
come into the room where one of us was, she thought,
laying |dead. Now she came in, looking, I will say for
her, uncommonly pretty. She came straight up to us,
and looked us full in the face. I paid no attention to
her, but Rube nodded quite cheerfully.

" 'Well, signora, so you were making fools of us, after
all!. Well, I ain't the first chap that's been fooled by a
pretty woman; that's one comfort, anyhow. I suppose
our engagement is to be considered at an end, eh?' and
he laughed.

" 'American dog!' the girl said, with her eyes flashing
with rage, 'did you think you were so good-looking that
the women of the nation you tread upon are all to lose
their hearts to you? We are Mexicans, and we hate
you!' and she stamped her foot with passion.

Y- ' OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 75

"Kube laughed unconcernedly. 'Well, signora, after
what you now permit me to §ee of you, I am really thank-
ful that you are so kind and lenient. Thunder! what a
fate mine would have been if you had taken it into your
head to marry me!'

"There was a general laugh among the men at the cool
way in which Rube treated the girl, and the enraged
Pepita struck him a box on the ear. It was a hearty one;
but Rube's face hardly changed, and he said, still smil-
ing:

" 'We have a custom in the States, Pepita, that when
a gal boxes a man's ears, he has a right to give her a
kiss. You are reversing that; I had the kisses this after-
noon, and now I have got the box on the ear.'

"There was again a roar of laughter among the Mexi-
cans, and the enraged woman drew a knife, and would
have stabbed Rube to the heart had she not been seized
by the men standing round her and forced from the
room. We were kept in that room under a guard so
watchful that any attempt to escape was out of the ques-
tion, until three o'clock the next morning. The horses
were then saddled, and we were soon off, Rube and I
riding in the midst of the party with our hands tied
before us, so that we could just hold the bridle. We
had found out from the conversation that El Zeres with
his band was about twenty-five miles distant.

"Upon our ride I found an opportunity for the first
time since our capture for a talk with Rube.

" 'What do you think of it, Seth?'

" 'Looks bad, Rube,' I said. 'If we find El Zeres in
camp, I expect he will make short work of us; if he is
away I suppose we shall get till to-morrow morning.
If we are to escape at all it must be to-night.'

" 'Escape!' Rube said scoffingly; 'of course we are
going to escape. The question is, Which one of all the

78 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

ways open to us are we to choose?' and he laughed
merrily.

" 'I don't quite see all the ways yet, Rube; however,
we shall see what sort of a place we are put in to-night,
and can then come to some conclusion. There comes the
sun.'

"It was about nine o'clock when we rode into camp;
and as we approached it we acknowledged that a better
place against a sudden surprise could hardly have been
chosen. The ground was flat for miles round; but the
site of the camp rose in a slight mound, of nearly circular
form and perhaps one hundred yards across; the central
part was thirty feet or so above the general level.
Round this the band of El Zeres was encamped. Rube
and I guessed them at four hundred strong. There was
an attempt at military order, for, by the bundles of wear-
ing apparel, etc., it was evident that the men slept round
a series of bivouac fires, extending in a circle round the
foot of the mound. Within the line of fires the horses
were picketed in two rows. In the center of the circle,
upon the highest point of the rise, was a small house.
As we approached we could see a stir in the camp: a
party of men were mounting their horses as if for an
expedition.

" 'I hope El Zeres is on the point of starting some-
where, Rube,' I said, 'and that he is in too great a hurry
to stop to amuse himself with us as he has threatened:
it will give us another day."

" 'I hope so,' Rube said; 'it's hard if we don't manage
to make tracks if we get twenty-four hours.'

"On reaching the camp we were ordered to alight;
and upon its being known who we were, there was as
many shouts of triumph as if we had been generals.

" 'We are quite celebrated characters, Seth,' Rube
said, with his usual laugh.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 77

6* 'Ah,' said I, 'we could do without such celebrity
just at present/

" *I don't know/ Rube said. 'If we were mere Ameri-
can soldiers they would cut our throats at once: as it is,
they may keep us for a more ceremonial killing.'

"As we were talking we were being led up toward the
central hut, which was evidently the abode of the chief.
He was standing at the door, tapping his riding-boot
impatiently with a heavy whip; a man was holding his
horse in readiness. One of the other leaders was stand-
ing talking to him. 'Jehoshophat!' said I, 'he is going
out. We are safe for awhile.'

"El Zeres was a slight, wiry man, irith a small wicked-
looking eye, which gave one the 'squerms' to look at, and
a thin mouth curved up in a cruel smile. He was the
savagest and most bloodthirsty of all the Mexican par-
tisans The man with him was a tall, swarthy, ferocious-
looking villain.

"El Zeres looked at us for some time without a word.
Then he said, 'I've got you at last; I've been on the
lookout for you for a long time past.'

" 'It hasn't been our fault we haven't met before/
said Rube; which was true enough, for we had given
him a close chase several times. El Zeres only gave an
evil smile, but the other Mexican exclaimed savagely,
'You dog, do you dare to answer?' and struck Rube
across the face with all his force with his heavy whip.

"Rube turned quite white, and then with a tremendous
effort he broke the cowhide thongs which fastened his
hands — not new rope, mind you, but cowhide — just as if
it had been so much grass, and went right at the fellow
who had struck him. The Mexicans gave a cry of aston-
ishment, and threw themselves upon Rube, El Zeres
shouting at the top of his voice, 'Don't draw a knife,
don't draw a knife; I'll hang any man who injures him.*

?8 , OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"Rube had got the fellow by the throat with both
hands, and though the crowd of men who threw them-
selves upon him pulled him to the ground, he never let
go, but brought the man down too. I knew it was all
over with him. I was quite mad to join in and help;
but though I tugged and strained at my thongs till they
cut right into my wrists, I could not succeed. For
awhile they lay in a struggling mass on the ground, and
then Rube shook himself free of them for a moment and
got to his feet. A dozen men were upon him in a mo-
ment; but he was blind with rage, and would not have
minded if it had been a thousand. Those who came in
front went down as if shot before the blows of his fists;
but others leaped on him from behind, and then the
struggle began again. I never saw sich a thing before, and
never shall again. It was downright awful. They could
not hold his arms. Their weight, over and over again,
got him upon the ground, and over and over again he
was up on his feet; but his arms, somehow, they could
not hold, and the work he did with them was awful.
Anything he hit went down, and when he could not hit
he gripped. It was like a terrier with rats: hecaught'em
by the throat, and when he did it was all up with them.
Some of them made a grab for their knives, but they
had no time to use them. In a moment their eyes would
seem to start from their heads; and then, as he threw
'em away, they fell in a dead lump. How long this went
on I can't say — some minutes, though — when a Mexican
snatched the lasso, which every Mexican carries, from
the saddle of El Zeres' horse, and dropped the noose
over Rube's neck. In another moment he was lying
half -strangled upon the ground, and a dozen hands
bound his hands behind him and his feet together with
cowhide thongs. Then they stood looking at him as if
he was some devil. And no wonder. Sever* Mexicans

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 79

lay dead on the ground, and many more were lying
panting and bleeding around. The Mexicans are an
active race of men, but not strong — nothing like an
average American— and Rube at any time was a giant
even among us scouts; and in his rage he seemed to have
ten times his natural strength. El Zeres had never
moved; and except shouting to his men not to use their
knives, he had taken no part whatever in it— watching
the struggle with that cruel smile, as if it had only been
a terrier attacked by rats. When it was over he mounted
his horse, and said to one of his lieutenants who was
standing near: 'I must go now. I leave these men in
your charge, Pedro. Fastea that one's hands behind
him; then take them inside. Put them in the inner
room. Clear my things out. Take ten picked men, and
don't let any one in or out till I return. I shall be back
before daybreak. I shall amuse myself to-day with
thinking how I shall try the nerves of these Americanos.
I can promise you all a handsome amusement of some
sort, anyhow.' And he rode off.

"I have often faced death, and ain't afraid of it; but
the unruffled face and the cruel smile of that man made
my flesh creep on my bones,~as I thought of what Rube
and I had got to go through the next day. And now,"
Seth said, breaking off, "it's getting late, and I haven't
talked such a heap for years. I will finish my yarn
another night."

Very warm were the young Hardys in their thanks to
Seth for this exciting story from his own experience, and
great was the discussion among themselves that arose as
to how the two Americans could possibly have mad«
their escape from their terrible predicament.

80 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER VIL •

BETH CONTINUES HIS NARRATIVE OP THE MEXICAN
ADVENTURE.

THE next evening the young Hardys again took their
seats by Seth, and, without any delay, he went on with
his story.

"After El Zeres had ridden off the lieutenant, Pedro,
selected ten from the men around — for pretty well the
whole camp had gathered round us — and told them, in
the first place, to clear the house of the hammock and
other belongings of El Zeres, and when this was done to
carry Rube in. Bound and helpless as he was, there
was a visible repugnance on the part of the men to touch
him, so great was the fear which his tremendous
strength had excited. However, six of them took him
up and carried him into the hut — for it was little more —
and threw him down like a log in the inner room. I
walked in of my own accord, and sat down on the ground
near him. I heard Pedro give orders to some of the
men outside to take away the dead bodies and bury
them, and for the rest to go down to their campfires.
Then he entered the house with his other four men.

"The house was just the ordinary Mexican hut. Ifc
contained two rooms, or rather, one room partially
divided into two, the inner compartment forming the
sleeping-room of the family. There was no door between
the rooms, nor was there any window; the light entering
through the wide opening into the outer room. The

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 81

outer room had no regular windows, only some chinks
or loopholes, through which a certain amount of light
could come; but these were stopped up with straw, for
the Mexicans are a chilly people; and as the door was
always open, plenty of light came in through it. The
house was not built of adobe, as are most Mexican huts,
but of stones, with the interstices plastered with mud.

"Never in my life did I feel that the game was up as I
did when I sat down there and looked round. The men
were seated on the ground in the next room, in full view
of us, and every now and then one walked in to look at
us. Helpless as we were, they had an uneasy doubt of
what we might do. Kube still lay at full length on the
ground. For a quarter of an hour I did not speak, as I
thought it best to let him cool and quiet down a bit; and
I thought and thought, but I couldn't, for the life of
me, think out any plan of getting clear away. At last I
thought I would stir Kube up. 'How do you feel,
Kube?' 'Well, I feel just about tired out,' Rube said;
'just as if I had walked a hundred miles right on end.
I've been a fool again, Seth, sure enough; but I've given
some of them goss, that's a comfort. I'll just take a
sleep for a few hours, and then we'll see about this busi-
ness. Hollo, there!' he shouted in Spanish; 'water/
For awhile no one attended to him; but he continued to
shout, and I joined him, so that the men in the next
room were obliged to leave off their talk to do as we
wanted them. One of them got up and took a large
copper pan, filled it with water from a skin, and placed
it down between us; and then giving me a hearty kick-
even then he did not dare kick Kube — went back to his
pillow. It took some trouble and much rolling over be-
fore we could get so as to get our mouths over the pan
to drink. When we had satisfied our thirst we rolled
over again, made ourselves as comfortable as we could

82 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

I

under the circumstances — which warn't saying much—
and in a short time were both asleep, for we had only
been four hours in bed for two nights. I was pretty
well accustomed to sleep on the ground, and I slept
without waking for nearly seven hours; for when I did
so I saw at once it was nearly sunset. I can't say it was
an agreeable waking, that; for I felt as if my shoulders
were out of joint, and that I had two bands of red-hot
iron round my wrists. My first move was to roll over
and have another drink. Then I sat up and looked
round. Rube was sitting up, looking at me. 'So you
are awake, Seth?' 'Yes/ said I. 'Are you all right
now, Rube?' 'As right as can be/ Rube said in his
ordinary cheerful tone; 'except that I feel as if a fellow
was sawing away at my ankles and wrists with a blunt
knife.' 'That's about the state of my wrists/ I said.
'I don't mind my wrists so much/ he said; 'it's my feet
bothers me. I shall be such a time before I can walk.'
'You needn't bother about that, Rube/ said I. 'It
isn't much more walking your feet have got to do.' 'I
hope they've got more to do than they've ever done yet,
old hoss/ Rube said; 'at any rate, they've got a good
thirty miles to do to-night.' 'Are you in earnest, Rube?'
said I. 'Never more so/ said he. 'All we've got to do
is to get away, and then tramp it.' 'How do you mean
to get away, Rube?' 'Easy enough/ Rube said care-
lessly. 'Get our hands loose first, then our legs, then
kill them fellows and make tracks.' Now it ain't very
often that I larf out. I don't suppose I've larfed right
out three times since I was a boy; but Rube's coolness
tickled me so that I larfed out like a hyena. When I
began, Rube he began; and when he larfed it was tre-
mendous. I don't think Rube knew what I war larfin*
at; but he told me afterward he larfed to see me larf,
which, in all the time we had been together, he hadn't

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 83

seen. What made us larf worse was that the Mexicans
were so startled that they seized their rifles and rushed
to the doorway, and stood looking at us as if we were
wild beasts. Keeping the guns pointed at us, they
walked round very carefully, and felt our cords to see
that they were all right; and finding they were, went
back into the next room, savage and rather scared. Our
larfing made them terribly uneasy, I could see; and they
had an idea we couldn't have larfed like that if we
hadn't some idea of getting away. When we had done I
said: 'Now, Rube, tell me what you have planned out,
that is, if you're downright in arnest.' 'In arnest!'
says he, almost angry; 'of course I'm in arnest. Do you
think I'm going to be fool enough to stop here to be
frizzled and sliced by that El Zeres to-morrow? No, it's
just as I said: we must get our hands free; we must kill
all these fellows, and be off.' 'But how are we to get
our hands free, Rube?' 'That's the only point I can't
make out,' he said. 'If these fellows would leave us
alone, it would be easy enough; we could gnaw through
each other's thongs in ten minutes; but they won't let
us do that. All the rest is easy enough. Just think it
over, Seth.' I did think it over, but I did not see my
way to getting rid of our thongs. That done, the rest
was possible enough. If we could get hold of a couple
of rifles and take them by surprise, so as to clear off four
or five before they could get fairly on their legs, I had
little doubt that we could manage the rest. No doubt
they would shut the door as it got later, and it was pos-
sible that the row might not be heard. If that was
managed, I was sure we could crawl through the lines
and get off. Yes, it was straightforward enough if we
could but get rid of our cords. As I was thinking it
over my eye fell upon the pan of water. An idea came
across me. 'I don't know, Rube, that it would stretch

84 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

them enough to slip our hands out, but if we could wet
these hide thongs by dipping them in water, we might
stretch them a bit, anyhow, and ease them.' 'That
would be something, Seth, anyhow.' We shuffled by
turn, next to the pan, and leaned back so that our wrists
were fairly in the water. The water relieved the pain,
and I could feel the thongs give a little, but it was only a
little; they had been tied too carefully and well to
render it possible to unloose them. We came to this
conclusion after an hour's straining, and at the cost of no
little pain. We agreed it was no use, and sat thinking
over what was the next thing to do, and taking it by
turns to cool our wrists. We did not altogether give up
hope, as we agreed that we must try, in the short inter-
vals between the visits of the Mexicans, to untie the
knots of each other's cords with our teeth. It was pos-
sible, anyhow, for the knots would draw pretty easy now
that the leather was wet. Suddenly an idea struck me.
I squeezed myself back to the wall, and leaned against
it. 'It's all right, Rube,' said I; 'our cords are as good
as off.' 'How's that?' said Rube. 'This wall is made
of rough stones, Rube, and there are plenty of sharp
edges sticking out through the mud. They will cut
through these wet thongs like knives.' 'Hoorah!'
shouted Rube at the top of his voice, with a yell that
startled the Mexicans from their seats again, and then
he commenced thundering out one of the songs the sol-
diers used to sing on the march. Several Mexicans came
running up from the camp to ask if anything was the
matter, Rube's yell having reached their ears. They
were told it was only those mad Americanos amusing
themselves, and with many angry threats of the different
sort of yells we should give next day, they sauntered off
again. 'That's rather a good thing,' Rube said to ma
when he stopped making a noise. 'If any sound of the

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 85

little fight we are going to have here reaches the camp,
they will put it down to us shouting for our amusement.'
By this time it had become perfectly dark, and the guard
lighted a fire in the middle of the room in which they
sat. A pile of wood had been brought in for the pur-
pose, and when the smoke had a little abated, the door
was shut and barred. Every three or four minutes one
of the men would take a lighted brand and come in to
see that we were not near to each other, and that all was
secure. 'What time shall we begin, Seth?' Rube asked.
'In another hour or so,' I said; 'by eight. They will be
gambling and quarreling round the fire by nine o'clock;
and the talk, and the noise of the horses, will prevent
them hearing anything here. We must not think of
going out for two hours later, and even then they won't
be all asleep; but we dare not put it off later, for El
Zeres may come back earlier than he said he should, and
if he does it's all up with us. Let's arrange our plans
for good,' I said, 'and then we can each sit up against a
corner and pretend to go to sleep. When I am going to
cut my cord I will give a very little cough, and then you
do the same when you are free. We had better do that
before very long, for you will be a long time before you
will get any feeling in your feet. Rub them as hard as
you can; but you can't do that till you get the use of
your hands. When you are quite ready, snore gently;
I'll answer in the same way if I am ready. Then we will
keep quiet till the fellow comes in again, and the mo-
ment he is gone let us both creep forward: choose a time
when the fire is burning low. You creep round your
side of the room; I will keep mine, till we meet in the
corner where the rifles are piled. We must then open
the pans, and shake all the powder out, and, when that
is done, each take hold of one by the barrel and hit. Do
you quite understand and agree?' 'Quite, Seth. Is

86 0 UT ON THE PAMPAS.

there anything else?' 'Yes/ I said; 'you take the door,
I will take the corner where the arms are. We must try
and keep them from coming within arm's reach to use
their, knives; but if either of us are hard pressed he must
call, and the other must come to him.' 'All right, old
boss, I lon,g to be at work.' 'So do I,' I said. 'And
now don't let's ,have any more talk; shut your eyes, and
keep quiet till I cough.' The men were engaged now in
talking over the $eed& in which they had been engaged,
and so revolting and cold-blooded were the atrocities of
which .they .boasted that I longed for the time when
Rube and I should fall upon them. In half an hour I
gave the signal. I had picked out a sharp stone in a
convenient .position, an$ it was not a minute before I
felt the coil of cords Joosen with a sudden jerk, and
knew that I was free. I found my hands were com-
pletely numbed, and it was a long time before I could re-
store the circulation. It must have been a good half-
hour before Rube gave the signal that he had got the
cords that bound his ankles loosened, as of course he
could not begin at them until he had the free use of his
hands. As I had anticipated, the visits of our guards
were rather less frequent now that they believed us to be
asjeep. Fortunately, the din and talk in the next room
was now loud and incessant, which enabled Rube to rub,
and even stamp his feet.a little. In half an hour I heard
a snore, which I answered. The moment the next visit
was over I crawled to the door, and then, lying pretty
nigh on my stomach, crept round to where the rifles were
piled. The fire was brirning low, and the guard were
sitting so closely round it that the lower part of the
room was in/black shadow; so that, though I was looking
out for Rube, I didn't see him till he was close enough to
touch me. It was a delicate job opening all the pans,
but we did it without making as much noise as would

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 87

•care a deer, and then, each taking a rifle by the barrel,
we were ready. Pedro was just telling a story of how he
had forced an old man to say where his money was hid,
by torturing his daughters before his eyes, and how,
•when he had told his secret, and the money was ob-
tained, he had fastened them up, and set the house
alight — a story which was received with shouts of ap-
proving laughter. As he finished down came the butt
of Rube's rifle on his head with a squelch, while mina did
the same on the head of the next man. For an instant
there was a pause of astonishment, for no one knew
exactly what had happened; then there was a wild yell
of surprise and fear, as our rifles came down again with
a crashing thud. All leaped to their feet, the man I
aimed my next blow at rolling over, and just escaping it.
Kube was more lucky, and just got his man as he was
rising. 'Hoorah! Seth,' he shouted, 'five down out of
eleven/ We drew back now to our posts as agreed on,
and the Mexicans drawing their knives, made a rush for-
ward. They ain't cowards, the Mexicans — I will say
that for them; and when these fellows found they were
caught like rats in a trap, they fought desperately. They
knew there was no mercy to expect from Rube and me.
They divided, and three came at each of us. Two went
down as if they were shot, and I was just whirling my
rifle for another blow, when I heard a crash, and then a
shout from Rube, 'Help, Seth!' I saw at once what had
happened. Rube's rifle, as he was making a blow at a
man, had struck a beam over his head, and the shock had
made it fly from his hands across the room. In another
moment the two Mexicans were upon him with their
knives. He hit out wildly, but he got a gash across the
forehead and another on the arm in a moment. I made
two strides across the hut, and the Mexicans who were
attacking me, instead of trying to prevent me, made a

88 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

rush to the corner where their rifles were, which I had left
unguarded. It was a fatal mistake. My gun came down
crash upon the head o2 one of Rube's assailants Before
he knew of my approach, and another minute did for the
second. As I turned from him the remaining two Mexi-
cans leveled at Rube, who had rushed across to pick up
his gun, and myself, and gave a cry as the flints fell and
there was no report. For a minute or two they fought
desperately with the guns; but it was no use, and it was
soon over, and we stood the masters of the hut, with
eleven dead men round us. For they were dead every
one, for we examined them. The stocks of our guns had
broken with the first blow, and the rest had been given
with the iron, and in no case had we to hit twice. I
don't say it was anything like Samson and the donkey's
jaw-bone you were telling me about, but it war very fair
hitting. It was scarcely over when we heard several men
come running up outside. 'Is anything the matter,
Pedro? "We thought we heard a yell.' 'No, nothing/ I
said, imitating Pedro's gruff voice, which I felt sure they
would not know through the door; 'it's only these mad
Americanos yelling.' The men were apparently quite
satisfied with the explanation, for in a minute or two we
heard their voices receding, and then all became still.
Presently we opened the door and looked out. Many of
the fires had begun to burn low, but round others there
was still a sound of laughing and singing. 'Another
hour,' Rube said, 'and they will all be asleep.' We threw
some more wood on the fire, took some tobacco and
cigarette paper from the pocket of one of the Mexicans,
and sat down to smoke comfortably. We were both
plaguey anxious, and couldn't pretend we warn't, for at
any moment that rascal El Zeres might arrive, and then
it would be all up with us. At last we agreed that we
could not stand it any longer, and made up our minds to

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 89

go outside and sit down against the wall of the hut till
it was safe to make a start, and then if we heard horses
coming in the distance we could make a move at once.
We each took a hat and cloak, a brace of pistols, and a
rifle, and went out. There we sat for another hour, till
the camp got quiet enough to make the attempt. Even
then we could hear by the talking that many of the men
were still awake, but we dared not wait any longer, for
we calculated that it must be near eleven o'clock already.
We chose a place where the fires had burned lowest, and
where everything was quiet, and, crawling along upon
the ground, we were soon down among the horses. We
had been too long among the Indians to have a bit of
fear about getting through these fellows; and, lying on
our faces we crawled along, sometimes almost touching
them, for they lay very close together, but making no
more noise than two big snakes. A quarter of an hour
of this and we were through them, and far enough out
on the plain to be able to get up on to our feet and break
into a long stride. Ten more minutes and we broke into
a run: there was no fear now of our steps being heard.
'Done them, by thunder!' Kube said; 'won't El Zeres
curse?' We might have been a mile and a half from the
camp, when in the quiet night air we heard the sound of
the howl of a dog. We both stopped as if we were shot.
'Thunder!' Rube exclaimed furiously, 'if we haven't for-
got the bloodhound.' I knew what Rube meant, for it
was a well-known matter of boast of El Zeres that no one
could ever escape him, for that his bloodhound would
track them to the end of the world. 'There's only one
thing to be done,' I said; 'we must go back and kill that
critter.' 'Wait, Seth,' Rube said; 'we don't know where
the darned brute is kept. He warn't up at the hut, and
we might waste an hour in finding him, and when we
did, he ain't a critter to be wiped out like a babby.' 'We

90 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

must risk it, Rube.' I said. 'It's all up with us if he's once
put on our track.' Rube made no answer, and we turned
toward the camp. We hadn't gone twenty yards when
Eube said, 'Listen.' I listened, and sure enough I could
hear out on the plain ahead a low trampling. There was
no need of any more talk. We ran forward as hard as we
could go, turning a little out of our course to let the
horsemen who were coming pass us. 'In another quarter
of an hour they'll know all about it, Rube. It will take
them as much more to get ready and put the dog on the
track. They'll have some trouble in getting him to take
up our scent with all that blood in the room. I should
say we may fairly reckon on three-quarters of an hour
before they're well out of the camp.' 'That's about it,'
Rube said. 'They will have to tie the dog, so as not to
lose Mm in the darkness. They won't gain on us very
fast for the next two hours; we can keep this up for that
at a pinch; After that, if we don't strike water, we are
done for.' 'We passed a stream yesterday, Rube; how
far was it back ?' 'About an hour after daylight. Yes,
nearly three hours from camp. But we are going faster
now than we did then. We ought to do it in two hours.'
After this we didn't say any more. We wanted all our
breath. It was well for us we had both been tramping
half our lives, and that our legs had saved our necks
more times than once on the prairies. We were both
pretty confident we could run sixteen miles in two hours.
But we dared not run straight. We knew that if they
found we were keeping a line, they would let the dog go
their best pace and gallop alongside; so we had to zig-
zag, sometimes going almost back upon our own track.
We did not do this so often as we should have done if we
had had more time."

"But how did you know which way to go, Seth/*
Hubert asked.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 91

"We went by the stars," Seth said. "It was easier
than it would have been by day, for when the sun's right
overhead, it ain't a very straightforward matter to know
how you are going; but there would be no difficulty then
to scouts like Rube and me. Well, we had run, maybe,
an hour and a quarter when we heard a faint, short bark
far behind. 'The brute is on our trail/ Eube said; 'they
haven't given us so much start as I looked for. Another
half-hour and he will be at our heels sure enough.' I
felt this was true, and felt very bad-like for a bit. In
another quarter of an hour the bark was a good bit
nearer, and we couldn't go no faster than we were going.
All of a sudden I said to Rube, 'Rube, I've heard them
dogs lose their smell if they taste blood. Let's try it;
it's our only chance. Here, give me a cut in the arm, I
can spare it better than you can; you lost a lot to-night
from that cut.' We stopped a minute. I tore off the
sleeve of my hunting shirt, and then Rube gave me a bit
of a cut on the arm. I let the blood run till the sleeve
was soaked and dripping, then Rube tore off-a strip from
his shirt and bandaged my arm up tight. We rolled the
sleeve in a ball and threw it down, then took a turn,
made a zigzag or two to puzzle the brute, and then went
on our line again. For another ten minutes we could
hear the barking get nearer and nearer, and then it
stopped all of a sudden. On we went, and it was half an
hour again before we heard it, and then it was a long
way off. 'I expect we're all right now, Seth,' Rube said.
'I guess we are,' I said; 'but the sooner we strike water
the better I shall be pleased.' It was nigh another
half-hour, and we were both pretty nigh done, when we
came upon the stream, and the dog couldn't have been
more than a mile off. It was a bit of a thing five or six
yards wide, and a foot or two deep in the middle,
k* Which way?' says Rube. 'Tip's our nearest way, so we

92 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

had better go down.' 'No, no,' says I; 'they're sure to
suspect that we shall try the wrong course to throw
them off, so let's take the right.' Without another word
up stream we went, as hard as we could run. In a few
minutes we heard the dog stop barking, when we might
have been half a mile up stream. 'We must get out of
this, Eube,' I said. 'Whichever way they try with the
dog, they are safe to send horsemen both ways.' 'Which
side shall we get out, Seth?' 'It don't matter,' I said;
'it's all a chance which side they take the dog. Let's
take our own side.' Out we got; and we hadn't ran a
quarter of a mile before we heard a tramping of horses
coming along by the stream. We stopped to listen, for
we knew if they had the dog with them, and if he was
on our side of the river, we were as good as dead. 'If
they take the trail, Seth,' Rube said, 'it's all up with
•us. Don't let's run any more. We are men enough to
shoot the four first who come up, and I only hope one of
them may be El Zeres; that'll leave us a pistol each, and
we will keep them for ourselves. Better do that, by a
long way, than be pulled to pieces with hot pincers/
'A long way, Rube,' I said. 'That's agreed, then.
When I give the word, put the barrel against your eye
and fire; that's a pretty safe shot.' As the Mexicans got
to the place where we had got out, we stopped and held
our breath. There was no pause — on they went; another
minute, and we felt certain they had passed the spot.
'Saved, by thunder!' Rube said; and we turned and went
off at a steady trot that we could keep up for hours.
'How long shall we get, do you think, Seth?' 'That all
depends how long they follow down stream. They can't
tell how far we are ahead. I should think they will go
two miles down; then they will cross the stream and
.cpme back; and if they don't happen to be on the right
side of the stream as they pass where we got out, they

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 9S

go up another two or three miles, and near as much
down, before they strike the trail. We're pretty safe of
half an hour's start, and we might get, if we're lucky,
near an hour. We ain't safe yet, Eube, by a long way.
It's near thirty miles from Pepita's to the camp. We've
come sixteen of it good — eighteen I should say; we have
got another twelve to the road, and we ain't safe then.
No; our only chance is to come across a hacienda and
get horses. There are a good many scattered about; but
it's so dark we might pass within fifty yards and not see
it. There won't be a streak of daylight till four, and it
ain't two yet.' 'Not far off, Seth.' By this time we had
got our wind again, and quickened up into a fast swing;
but our work had told on us, and we couldn't have gone
much over seven miles an hour. Several times, as we
went on, we could hear a trampling in the dark, and
knew that we had scared some horses; but though we
had a lasso we had brought with us, we might as well
have tried to catch a bird with it. In an hour we heard
the dog again, but it was a long way behind. There was
nothing for it now but hard running, and we were still
seven miles from the road, and even that didn't mean,
safety. I began to think we were going to lose the race>
after all. In another quarter of an hour we stopped
suddenly. 'Thunder!' said Eube; 'what's that?' Some
animal, that had been lying down, got up just in front
of us. 'It's a horse! Your lasso, Eube!' Eube, how-
ever, had made a tremendous rush forward, and, before
the animal could stretch himself into a gallop, had got
close, and grasped him by the mane. 'It's no go,' Eube
said, as the horse made a step forward; 'he's an old un,
dead lame.' 'Don't leave go, Eube,' I said. 'He'll da
for our turn.' He was a miserable old beast, but I felt
that he would do as well as the best horse in the world
for us. Eube saw my meaning, and in a minute we were

94 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

both astride on his back. He tottered, and I thought
he'd have gone down on his head. Kicking weren't of
no good; so I out with my knife and gave him a prod,
and off we went. It weren't far, some two hundred yards
or so, but it was the way I wanted him, right across the
line we were going. Then down he tumbled. 'All
right/ said I. 'You've done your work, old man; but
you mustn't lay here, or they may light upon you and
guess what's been up.' So we lugged him on to his feet,
gave him another prod, which sent him limping off; and
on we went on our course, sure that we were at last safe,
for we had thrown the bloodhound altogether off our
trail. For a mile or so we kept right away from our
course, for fear that they should keep straight on, and,
missing the scent, lead the dog across the trail, and so
pick it up again; then we turned and made straight for
the road. 'I don't think, Rube,' I said after awhile,
'that we shall strike the road far off where we left it at
Pepita's.' 'No, I expect not, Seth. We had better bear
a little more to the south, for they will most likely make
for Pepita's, and day will soon be breaking now/ 'We'd
better not strike the road at all, Rube; likely enough,
they will follow it down for a few miles in hopes of pick-
ing us up.' 'I hope they will,' Rube said; 'and I expect
so. Won't it be a lark, just?' 'What do you mean,
Rube?' 'Mean? Why, didn't the Cap tell us to leave
San Miguel before daybreak, and to ride to meet him?
It warn't likely that he meant us to ride more than ten
miles or so; so that he will be within that distance of San
Miguel by an hour after daybreak, and will be at Pepita's
half an hour later. If them fellows ride on, they are
safe to fall into as nice a trap as — ' 'Jehoshophat!' said
I. 'You're right, Rube. Let's make tracks. It can't
be more than another four or five miles to the road, and
day will break in half an hour,' 'How strong do you

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 95

reckon them, Seth?' 'Fifty or sixty/ said I, 'by the
regular sound of the horses.' 'That's about what I
guessed,' Eube said. 'There are forty of our chaps, and
they will be fresh. We'll give 'em goss.'

"We had now long ceased to hear the baying of the
dog, which had been most unpleasantly clear when we
got off the old hoss that had done us such a good turn.
We made sure, too, that we were well ahead, for they
would likely wait an hour in trying to pick up the trail
again. Daylight came at last; and when it was light
enough to see we stopped and took a look from a slight
rise, and there, across the plain, we could see the road
just where we expected. Nothing was moving upon it,
nor, looking back, could we see any sign of the Mexi-
cans. Away to the left, a mile or so, we could see a
clump of trees, and something like the roof of a house
among them. This, we had no doubt, was Pepita's.
About a mile down the road the other way was a biggish
•wood, through which the road ran. 'Let's make for
that wood, Kube, and wait; the Cap will be up in
another half-hour, and it ain't likely the Mexicans will
be along much before that. They're likely to stop for a
drink at Pepita's.' In another ten minutes we were in
shelter in the wood, taking care not to get upon the
road, in case the Mexicans should come along with the
hound before our men. We hadn't been there twenty
minutes before we both heard a trampling of horses; but
it was a minute or two more before we could decide which
way they were coming. At last, to our great comfort,
we found it was the right way. Just before they came
up I had an idea I caught a sound from the other [way,
but I couldn't have sworn to it. We lay till the troop
came fairly up, as it might be another party of Mexicans;
but it was all right, and we jumped out, with a cheer,
into the middle of them. Mighty surprised they were to

96 0 UT ON THE PAMPAS.

see us, on foot, and all dust and sweat. Rube's face,
too, was tied up; and altogether we didn't look quite
ourselves. They all began to talk at once; but I held up
rny hand urgent, and when they saw it was something
particular they shut up, and I said to the Cap: 'Don't
ask no questions, Cap; I'll tell you all arterwards. Ei
Zeres with about fifty of his men will be here in about
three minutes, I reckon. They've ridden thirty miles,
and the beasts ain't fresh; so it's your own fault if one
gets away.' The Cap didn't waste a moment in words.
He ordered half his men to ride back two hundred
yards, and to charge when they heard his whistle; and he
and the rest turned off into the wood, which was very
thick, and screened 'em from any one passing. Rube
and I, not having horses, were no good for a charge; so
we went on in the wood, as near as we could guess, half-
way between them, so as to be ready to jump out and
join in the skrimmage. It all takes some time to tell,
Iwt it didn't take two minutes to do, and in another
minute we could hear the Mexicans close. On they
came: we knew now that they had passed the Cap, and
•we clutched our rifles tight and peered out through the
leaves. On they came, and we could see El Zeres riding
first, with the bloodhound trotting along by the side of
his horse. Just as he was opposite we heard a loud,
shrill whistle, and the Mexicans halted with a look of
uneasiness. They weren't left to wonder long, for in a
moment there was a trampling of horses, and down came
our fellows on both sides of them. Just before they got
up we stepped forward with our rifles up. 'El Zeres!'
Rube shouted, and startled as the Mexican was, he looked
round. He had just time to see who it was, when
Rube's ball hit him in the head, and down he went as
dead as a stone. The hound turned and came right at
us with a deep growl of rage. I sent a ball through his

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 97

chest and rolled him over, and just as I did so our fel-
lows came down upon the Mexicans. It was a fierce
fight, for the Mexicans were in a trap, and knew that
there was no mercy for them. Rube and I sprang out,
and paid a good many of 'em off for the scare they had
given us. We wiped them right out to the last man,
losing only six ourselves. I don't know as ever I see a
better skrimmage while it lasted. After it was over
Robe and I mounted two of their horses, and rode on
with the rest of them to San Miguel; but before we
started off we told our story to the Cap, and he sent a
couple of men back with a dispatch to the general, asking
for five hundred men to destroy El Zeres' band at a blow.
"We stopped at Pepita's, and I never see a girl have a
much worse scare than we gave her. She made sure it
was El Zeres, and came running out to see if he had
caught us; and when she found that she had fallen into
the hands of the Rangers, and that we were among them,
she was as white as a shirt in a minute. She was plucky
enough, though; for as soon as she could get her
tongue she cursed us like a wild woman. I expect she
made sure we should have shot her for her treachery —
and a good many of our bands would have done so right
on end — but the Rangers never touched women. How-
ever, she warn't to go scot free; so we got fire, and set
the house and stable in a blaze. As we rode off Rube
shouted out, 'If you change your mind again about com-
ing with me to Missouri, you just drop me a line, Pepita.'
I thought, as I looked at her, it was lucky for Rube she
hadn't a rifle in her hand; she'd have shot him if she
had been hung for it a minute afterward. We rode on to
San Miguel, took Colonel Cabra prisoner, with his papers,
and sent him back under an escort. At dusk the same
day we got on our horses and rode back to where Pepita's
house had stood, and where our captain expected the

98 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

troops he had sent for. In half an hour they came up.
They had a couple of hours to rest their horses, and then
Rube and I led them straight to the Mexican camp. No
doubfc they heard us coming when we were close, but
made sure it was El Zeres, and so didn't disturb them-
selves; and it warn't till we had wheeled round and fairly
surrounded them that they smelt a rat. But it was too
late then, for in another minute we were down upon
them, and I don't believe twenty out of the whole lot got
away. It was, altogether, one of the most successful
businesses in the whole war. And I think that's about
all the story."

"Oh, thank you very much, Seth. It is a most excit-
ing story. And what became of Rube?"

"Rube married a year after we got back to the States,
and took up a clearing and settled down. It was then I
felt lonesome, and made up my mind to go south for
awhile. I promised Rube that I would go and settle
down by him after a bit, and I've concluded that it's
about time to do so. I've saved a few hundred dollars
out here, and I am going to start to-morrow morning at
daybreak to catch the steamer at Rosario. I shall go up
straight from Buenos Ayres to New Orleans, and a
steamer will take me up the river in three days to Rube's
location. Good-by, all of you. I told your father this
afternoon."

There was a hearty leave-taking, and many expressions
of regret at his leaving; and after a shake of the hand,
and many good wishes, the young Hardys went up to the
house, really sorry to part with their Yankee friend.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 99

CHAPTER VIII.

FARM WORK AND AMUSEMENTS.

ALTHOUGH but two months had elapsed since the
ground was plowed up and planted, the progress made
by the crop of maize and pumpkins was surprising: the
former, especially, was now nearly six ^feet high. This
rapid growth was the result of the extreme fertility of
the virgin soil, aided by the late abundant supply of
water, and the heat of the sun. The maize had given
them all a great deal to do; for when it was about six
inches high it had to be thinned out so that the plants
were nine or ten inches apart. This had been done by
the united strength of the party, Mr. Hardy and the
boys working for two hours each morning, and as much
in the evening. The girls also had assisted, and the
peons had worked the whole day, except from eleven to
three, when the heat was too great even for them. Many
hands make light work, and in consequence the whole
ground under maize cultivation was thinned in little over
a week. Latterly the maize had grown so fast that the
boys declared they could almost see it grow, and at the
end of two months after sowing it was all in flower.
The maize, or Indian corn, strongly resembles water
rushes in appearance, and the feathery blossom also
resembles that of the rush. Indian corn forms the main
article of food in South America, and in all but the North-
ern States of North America. It is equally useful and
common in India, and in other tropical countries.

100 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Scarcely less is it used in Italy, and other parts of south-
ern Europe. It was first introduced into Europe from
the East by the great family of Polenta, who ruled the
important town of Ravenna for nearly two hundred
years. Ground maize is still called Polenta throughout
Italy; and the great family will live in the name of the
useful cereal they introduced when all memory of their
warlike deeds is lost except to the learned.

One evening when Mr. Hardy, with his wife and chil-
dren, was strolling down in the cool of the evening to
look with pleasure upon the bright green of their healthy
and valuable crops, Hubert said:

"Isn't Indian corn, papa, the great yellow heads cov-
ered with grain-like beads one sees in corn-dealers' shops
in England?"

"Yes, Hubert."

"Well, if that is so, I cannot make out how those long
delicate stems can bear the weight. They bend over like
corn to every puff of wind. It does not seem possible
that they could bear a quarter of the weight of their
heavy yellow heads."

"Nor could they, Hubert; but nature has made a wise
and very extraordinary provision for this difficulty. All
other plants and trees with which I am acquainted have
their fruits or seeds where the blossom before grew. In
maize it is placed in an entirely different part of the
plant. In a very short time you will see — indeed you
may see now in most of the plants — the stalk begin to
thicken at a foot or eighteen inches from the ground,
and in a little time it will burst; and the head of maize,
so enveloped in leaves that it looks a mere bunch of
them, will come forth. It will for a time grow larger
and larger, and then the plant will wither and die down
to the place from which the head springs. The part
that remains will dry up until the field appears covered

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. Id

•with dead stumps, with bunches of dead leaves at the
top. Then it is ready for the harvest. "

"What a strange plant, papa! I quite long for the
time when the heads will come out. What are you going
to plant upon that bit of land you have got ready for
sowing now? It is about six acres."

"I mean to plant cotton there, Hubert. I have sent
to Buenos Ayres for seeds of what are called Carolina
Upland, and I expect them here in a few days."

"But it takes a great deal of labor, does it not, papa?"

"The calculation in the Northern States, Hubert, is
that one man can cultivate eight acres of cotton, assisted
by his wife and children at certain periods; and that as
his labor is not always required, he can with his family
cultivate another eight or ten acres of other produce; so
that about half of a peon's labor will be required, and in
the hoeing and picking time we can all help."

"Is not machinery required to separate the seeds from
the cotton?" Charley asked.

"It is not absolutely necessary, Charley, although it is
of course economical when the cultivation is carried on
upon a large scale. The variety I am going to try is
sometimes called 'bowed' Carolina, because it used to be
cleaned by placing it upon a number of strings stretched
very tight, which were struck with a sort of bow, and the
vibration caused the seed to separate from the cotton. I
have a drawing of one of these contrivances in a book up
at the house, and when the time comes you boys shall
make me one. It will be work for us to do indoors when
the weather is too hot to be out. Of course if I find that
it succeeds, and pays well, I shall take on more hands,
get proper machinery, and extend the cultivation. I
intend to plant the rows rather wide apart, so as to use
the light plow with the ridge boards between them,
instead of hoeing, to save labor."

102 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"How much cotton do they get from an acre?" Mrs,
Hardy asked.

"In the Southern States they expect twelve hundred
pounds upon new ground — that is, twelve hundred
pounds of pods, which make about three hundred of
cleaned cotton. When I have got the cotton fairly in
the ground I mean to plant an acre or two of tobacco,
and the same quantity of sugar cane, as an experiment.
But before I do that we must make a garden up at the
house: that is a really urgent need.5'

"Couldn't we grow rice here, papa?"

"No doubt we could, Hubert; but I do not mean to
try it. To succeed with rice, we should have to keep
the ground on which it grew in a state of swamp, which
would be very unhealthy. That is why I do not irrigate
the fields oftener than is absolutely necessary. Anything
approaching swampy, or even wet lands, in a climate like
this, would be almost certain to breed malaria. Besides,
we should be eaten alive by mosquitoes. No, I shall
certainly not try rice. Other tropical productions I
shall some day give a trial to. Ginger, vanilla, and other
things would no doubt flourish here. I do not believe
that any of them would give an extraordinary rate of
profit, for though land is cheap, labor is scarce. Still it
would !be interesting, and would cause a little variety
and amusement in our work, which is always an impor-
tant point, and no doubt there would be generally some
profit, tnough occasionally we may make a total failure."

Very often at daybreak the girls would go down with
their brothers to the river, and watch the waterfowl on
its surface; they were so amusing as they dabbled and
played in the water, unsuspicious of danger. Their
favorites, though, were the beautiful scarlet flamingoes,
with their slender legs, and their long, graceful necks,
and whose great employment seemed to be to stand quiet

f OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 103

in the water, where it was only two or three inches deep,-
and to preen their glossy red feathers. Over and over
again the girls wished that they could get a few water-
fowl, especially flamingoes, to tame them, in order that
they might swim on the dam pond and come and be fed;
and the boys had several talks with each other as to the
most practicable way of capturing some of them. At
last they thought of making a sort of inclosure of light
boughs, with an entrance into which birds could easily
pass, but through which they could not easily return,
and to scatter grain up to and into the inclosure, to
entice the birds to enter. On explaining this plan to
Mr. Hardy, he said that he had no doubt that it would
succeed in capturing birds, but that when caught it
would be impossible to tame full-grown wild-fowl, and
that the only plan was to find their nests, and take the
eggs or very young birds. This they determined to do;
and as the bushes close to the river were too thick to
permit an examination from the shore, they started one
morning early, and, going down to the river, entered it,
and waded along for a considerable distance. They dis-
covered two swans' nests, and several of different de-
scriptions of ducks. In some the birds were sitting upoa
their eggs, in others the young brood were just hatched,
and scuttled away into the bushes with the parent birds
upon being disturbed.

Charley and Hubert made no remark at breakfast upon
the success of their expedition; but when Charley went
two days after to Rosario, he procured from Mr. Percy,
who kept a quantity of chickens, two sitting hens. These
•were placed with their nests in the bullock cart in a
hamper; and Mrs. Hardy, who had no idea of the pur-
pose to which they were to be put, was quite pleased, on
their arrival at Mount Pleasant, at this addition to the
stock. Indeed it had been long agreed that they would

104 °&T ON TEE

keep hens as soon as the maize was ripe. The next
morning the hoys went again, and brought back twenty
eggs of various kinds of wild duck, including four swans'
eggs — to obtain which they had to shoot the parent
birds, which furnished the larder for days — which they
placed under the hens in place of their own eggs, and
then took the girls in triumph to see this commencement
of their tame duck project. The little girls were de-
lighted, and it was an immense amusement to them to go
down constantly to see if the eggs were hatched, as of
course no one could tell how long they had been sat upon
previous to being taken. They had remarked that four
of the eggs were much larger than the others, but had no
idea that they were swans'. In the course of a few days
six of the young ducklings were hatched, and the hens
were both so unhappy at their difficulty of continuing to
sit while they had the care of their young ones on their
mind, that one hen and all the little ones were removed
to a distance from the other's nest, and the whole of the
eggs were put under the remaining hen. The four swans
and five more ducks were safely hatched, when the hen
refused to sit longer, and the remaining eggs were lost.
Now that the swans were safely hatched, the boys told
their sisters what they really were, and their delight was
extreme.

In a few days they were all taken down to the dam,
and soon found their way into the water, to the great
distress of their foster-mother, who was obliged to stand
upon the bank calling in vain till the little ones chose to
come ashore. A hencoop was soon knocked together
from an old box, and this was placsd near the dam, and
ere long the hens became accustomed to the fancy of
their charges for the water, and would walk about pick-
ing up insects while the little ones swam about on the
pond. Twice a day the girls went down to feed them

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 105

•with grain and bits of boiled pumpkin — for the pumpkins
soon began to come into bearing — and the ducklings and
cygnets, which last were at present but little larger than
the others, would swim rapidly toward them when they
saw them, and would feed greedily out of their hands.

It was not for some weeks later that the desire for
young flamingoes was gratified. The boys had been out
for a ride, and coming upon the river where it was wide,
with flat sandy banks, round which the timber grew,
they determined to tie up their horses and enter the
stream, to see if they could get some more eggs. With
some* difficulty they made their way through the bushes,
and, getting into the water, waded along until a turn in
the river brought them in sight of the flat bank. There
were some twenty or thirty flamingoes upon it, for these
birds are very gregarious. Some were standing in the
water as usual, but the boys could not make out what
some of the others were doing. On the flat shore were
several heaps of earth, and across them some of the birds
were apparently sitting with one leg straddling out each
side. So comical was their aspect that the boys burst
into a laugh, which so scared the flamingoes that they
all took flight instantly. The boys now waded up to the
spot, and then got ashore to see what these strange
heaps were for. To their great delight they found that
they were nests, and upon the top of several of them
were eight or nine eggs carefully arranged. The legs of
the flamingo are so long that the bird is unable to
double them up and sit upon his nest in the usual fash-
ion. The hen bird therefore scrapes together a pile of
earth, on the top of which she lays her eggs, and then
places herself astride to keep them warm. The boys had
an argument whether they should take away two nests
entire, or whether they should take a few eggs from each
nest; but they decided upon the former plan, in order

106 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

that each of the young broods might be hatched simul-
taneously. Upon the boys reaching home with their
treasure their sisters' delight was unbounded, and the
hens were soon placed upon their new charges, and, both
being good sitters, took to them without much difficulty.

When the young broods were hatched the girls were
greatly disappointed at the appearance of little grayish
fluffy balls, instead of the lovely red things they had ex-
pected, and were by no means consoled when their father
told them that it would be three or four years before
they gained their beautiful color. However, they became
great pets, and were very droll, with their long legs, and
slender necks, and great curved bills. They became
extremely tame, and would, after a time, follow the girls
about, and stalk up to the house of their own accord to be
fed, their food always being placed in water, as they never
feed by picking upon the ground, for which, indeed, the
peculiar construction of their beak is entirely unfitted.
They were perfectly fearless of the dogs, which, on their
part, were too well trained to touch them; and their
funny way and their extreme tameness were a source of
constant amusement to the whole family.

But we must now retrace our steps. After the im-
portant work of getting a certain amount of land under
cultivation, the next most urgent business was the for-
mation of a garden. The land inside the inclosure
round the house was first plowed up, and then dug by
hand, the turf being left in front of the house to serve as
a lawn. The rest was planted with seeds brought from
England — peas, beans, tomatoes, vegetable marrows,
cucumbers, melons, and many others, some of which
were natives of warm climates, while others were planted
in small patches as an experiment. Fortunately, the
well supplied an abundance of water, whose only draw-
back was that, like most water upon the pampas, it had

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 107

a strong saline taste, which was, until they had become
accustomed to it, very disagreeable to the Hardys. As
the well had been dug close to the house on the highest
part of the slope, the water was conducted from the
pump by small channels all over the garden; and the
growth of the various vegetables was surprising. But
long before these could come into bearing a welcome
supply was afforded by the yams and Indian corn. The
yams resemble a sweet potato; and if the Indian corn is
gathered green, and the little corns nibbed off, boiled,
and mixed with a little butter, they exactly resemble the
most delicate and delicious young peas.

The young potatoes, too, had come in, so that they
had now an abundance of vegetables, the only point in
which they had before been deficient. Their drink was
the mate, which may be termed the national beverage of
Paraguay, Brazil, and the Argentine Kepublic. It is
made from the leaves of the mat& yuba, a plant which
grows in Paraguay and Brazil. The natives generally
drink it without sugar or milk, sucking it up from the
vessel in which it is made through a small tube* It is,
however, greatly improved by the addition of sugar and
milk, or, better still, cream. This fgreatly softens the
bitter taste which distinguishes it. None of the party
liked it at first; but as they were assured by those in the
country that they would like it when they became accus-
tomed to it, they persevered, and after a time all came
to prefer it even to tea.

Occasionally one or other of the boys went over to
Kosario with the cart, and Mr. Hardy bought some hun-
dreds of young fruit trees — apple, pear, plum^ apricot,
and peach — some of which were planted in the garden at
the sides and in rear of the house, others in the open
beyond and round it; a light fence with one wire being
put up to keep the cattle from trespassing. Clumps of

108 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

young palms, bananas, and other tropical trees and
shrubs were also planted about for the future adorn-
ment of the place. Fences were erected round the cul-
tivated ground, and an inclosure was made, into which
the cattle were driven at night. These fences were
easily and cheaply made. The wire cost little more at
Eosario than it would have done in England, and the
chief trouble was bringing the posts, which were made
of algaroba wood, from the town. This wood grows
abundantly upon the upper river, and is there cut down
and floated in great rafts down to Eosario. It is a tough
wood, which splits readily, and is therefore admirably
suited for posts. It is of a reddish color, and has a
pretty grain when polished. All the furniture was made
of it; and this, from constant rubbing by Sarah and the
girls, now shone brightly, and had a very good effect.

The ceilings were now put to the rooms, which were
greatly improved in appearance thereby, and the differ-
ence in temperature was very marked. A very short
time after the capture of the wild fowls' eggs it was
unanimously agreed that chickens were indispensable,
and a large hen-house was accordingly built at a short
distance from the dam, as it was considered as well not
to have any buildings, with the exception of the men's
hut, near the house. The hen-house was quickly built,
as it was a mere framework covered with felt, with bars
across it for the fowls to perch upon.

The floor was made, as that of the house had been, of
lime and clay beaten hard; and a small cut was made to
the dam, by which water could, at will, be turned over
the floor to keep it clean and neat. The next time the
cart went to Eosario it brought back fifty fowls, which
had only cost a few dollars. Henceforth eggs and
omelettes became a regular part of the breakfast, and
the puddings were notably improved.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 109

The chickens gave very little trouble, as they foraged
about for themselves, finding an abundance of insects
everywhere, and getting in addition a few pots of Indian
corn every morning. Maud and Ethel took it by turns,
week about, to take charge of the hen-house; and a great
pleasure was it to them to watch the numerous broods of
young chickens, and to hunt up the eggs which, in spite
of the nests temptingly prepared for them, the hens
•would frequently persist in laying in nests of their own
in the long grass.

The hens had, however, a numerous foe, who were a
great trouble to their young mistresses. These were the
skunks, an animal of the weasel tribe, but much resem-
bling squirrels in appearance, and possessing a most
abominable smell; so much so that the dogs, who would
attack almost anything, would run away from them.
They were at first exceedingly common, and created ter-
rible depredations among the hens. The girls were in
despair, and called in their brothers to their assistance.
The boys shot a good many, for the animals were very
tame and fearless; but their number was so great that
this method of destruction was of slight avail. They
then prepared traps of various kinds — some made by an
elastic stick bent down, with a noose at the end, placed
at a small entrance left purposely in the hen-house, so
that, when the skunk was about to enter, he touched a
spring, and the stick released, flew into the air carrying
the animal with it with the noose round its neck; other
traps let fall a heavy piece of wood, which crushed the
invader; and in these ways the skunks were pretty well
got rid of, the most unpleasant work being the removal
of the body from the trap. This had to be effected by
taking hold of it with two pieces of wood, for the odor
was so powerful that if the body was touched the smell
would remain on the hands for days.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

They had now added another species of domestic
animal to their stock, but this was the boys' charge.
Mr. Hardy, when the pumpkins began to ripen, bought
six pigs. They were of little trouble, for although a sty
•was built for them, they were allowed to wander about as
they pleased by day, another wire being added to the
fence round the cultivated land, to keep them from
trespassing. The crop of pumpkins was enormous; and
Mr. Hardy determined that no pigs should be killed
for eighteen months, by which time, as these animals
increase rapidly, there would be quite a large herd of
them.

Although an immense deal of hard work was got
through during the four months which followed the
completion of the house and the arrival of Mrs. Hardy
and her daughters, it must not be supposed that it was
not mingled with plenty of relaxation and amusement.

There were few days when one or other of the boys did
not go out with his gun for an hour either before sunrise
or after sunset, seldom failing to bring home a wild fowl
or two of some kind or other. And sometimes of an
afternoon they would go out for a ride with their sisters,
and have a chase after an ostrich, or a run after the gray
foxes, which abounded, and were very destructive among
the young lambs. Once or twice during these rides the
boys brought a puma to bay; but as they always carried
a ball in one of their barrels, with these and their revol-
vers they soon dispatched their unwelcome visitors.

They had contrived an apparatus with straps and a sort
of little pocket, in which the muzzle of the gun went, so
that it hung from the saddle down in front of their leg;
the stock of the gun being secured by a strap against the
pommel of the saddle, at the other side of which was
their revolver holster. This was an inconvenient way of
carrying the gun in some respects, as the strap had to ba

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. Ill

unfastened to get at it, and the chance of a shot thereby
lost; but they considered it preferable to the mode they
had at first adopted, of riding with their guns slung be-
hind them. This they gave up, because, with the
utmost care, they occasionally got a fall, when galloping,
from the armadillo holes, and the shock was greatly in-
creased from the weight of the gun, besides the risk, to
any one riding near, of the gun exploding. When riding
quietly, and upon the lookout for game, they carried the
gun in readiness upon their arms.

It was after one of these rides, when Hubert had
brought down with a bullet a swan which was making for
his bed in the river, that Maud said at tea:

"I wish we could shoot too; it would be a great amuse-
ment, and I should enjoy my rides a good deal more if I
knew that I could take a shot in case a lion or a deer
came out."

"Well, girls," Mr. Hardy said, "I had always intended
that you should learn to shoot. We have had so much
to do since you came here that I did not think of it, and
I had besides intended to wait until one of you expressed
a desire to learn. I brought out three light rook-shoot-
ing rifles on purpose for you and your mamma, and
you can begin to-morrow morning if you like."

"Oh, thank you, papa, thank you very, very much;
that will be nice!" both the girls exclaimed, clapping
their hands in their excitement.

"And what do you say, mamma?" Mr. Hardy asked.

"'No, thank you," Mrs. Hardy said; "I have plenty to
do, and, with a husband and two sons and two daughters
to defend me, I do not consider that it is essential. But
I think that it will be a nice amusement for the girls."

And so next morning, and nearly every morning after-
ward, the girls practiced with the light rifle at a mark,
until in time their hands became so steady that at short

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

distances of sixty or seventy yards they could beat their
"brothers, who were both really good shots. This wag
principally owing to the fact that the charge of powder
used in these rifles was so small that there was scarcely
any recoil to disturb the aim. It was some time before
they could manage to hit anything flying; but they were
Tery proud one evening when, having been out late with
the boys, a fat goose came along overhead, and the girls
firing simultaneously, he fell with both bullets in his
body. After this they, too, carried their rifles out with
them during their rides.

Any one who had known Maud and Ethel Hardy at
home would have scarcely recognized them now in the
sunburnt-looking lassies, who sat upon their horses as if
they had never known any other seat in their lives.
Their dress, too, would have been most curious to Eng-
lish eyes. They wore wide straw hats, with a white scarf
wound round the top to keep off the heat. Their dresses
-were very short, and made of brown holland, with a
garibaldi of blue-colored flannel. They wore red flannel
knickerbockers, and gaiters coming up above the knee,
of a very soft, flexible leather, made of deer's skin.
These gaiters were an absolute necessity, for the place
literally swarmed with snakes, and they constantly found
them in the garden when going out to gather vegetables.
Most of these snakes were harmless; but as some of them
were very deadly, the protection of the gaiters was quite
necessary. The girls did not like them at first, especially
as their brothers could not help joking them a little, and
Hubert said that they reminded him of two yellow-legged
partridges. However, they soon became accustomed to
them, and felt so much more comfortable about snakes
afterward that they would not have given them up upon
any account.

The boys always wore high boots for the same reason,

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

and had no fear whatever of the snakes; but Mr. Hardy
insisted that each of them should always carry in a small
inner pocket of their coats a phial of spirits of ammonia,
a small surgical knife, and a piece of whipcord; the same
articles being always kept in readiness at the house. His
instructions were, that in case of a bite they should first
suck the wound, then tie the whipcord round the limb
above the place bitten, and that they should then cut
deeply into the wound crossways, open it as much as pos-
sible, and pour in some spirits of ammonia; that they
should then pour the rest of the ammonia into their
water-bottle, which they always carried slung over their
shoulders, and should drink it off. If these directions
were instantly and thoroughly carried out, Mr. Hardy had
little fear that the bite, even of the deadiest snake,
would prove fatal. In addition he ordered that in case of
their being near home they should, upon their arrival, be
made to drink raw spirits until they could not stand, and
that, if they were some distance away from home, and
were together, the one bitten should lie down while the
other galloped at full speed to take back a bottle of
brandy, and order assistance to be sent. This remedy is
well known throughout India. Any one bitten by a
poisonous snake is made to drink spirits, which he is able
to do without being affected by them, to an extraordinary
extent; a man who at ordinary times could scarcely take
a strong tumbler of spirits and water, being able, when
bitten, to drink a bottle of pure brandy without being in
the least affected by it. When the spirit does at last
begin to take effect, and the patient shows signs of
drunkenness, he is considered to be safe, the poison of
the spirit having overcome the poison of the snake.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER IX.

NEIGHBORLY VISITS AND ADVICE.

IT must not be supposed that the Hardys, during the
whole of this time, were leading a perfectly solitary life.
Upon the contrary, they had a great deal of sociable
companionship. Within a range of ten miles there were
no less than four estancias owned by Englishmen, besides
that of their first friend Mr. Percy. A ride of twenty
miles is thought nothing of out on the pampas. The
estate immediately to the rear of their own was owned by
Sefior Jaqueras, a native. The tract upon the east of
his property was owned by three young Englishmen,
whose names were Herries, Cooper, and Farquhar. They
had all been in the army, but had sold out, and agreed to
come out and settle together.

The southwestern corner of their property came down
to the river exactly opposite the part where the north-
eastern corner of Mount Pleasant touched it: their house
was situated about four miles from the Hardys. To the
west of Sefior Jaqueras, the estate was owned by two
Scotchmen, brothers of the name of Jamieson: their
estancia was nine miles distant. In the rear of the estate
of Sefior Jaqueras, and next to that of Mr. Percy, were
the properties of Messrs. Williams and Markham : they
were both about ten miles from Mount Pleasant. These
gentlemen had all ridden over to call upon the new-
comers within a very few days of Mr. Hardy's first
arrival, and had offered any help in their power.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 115

The Hardys were much pleased with their visitors,
•who were all young men, with the frank, hearty manner
natural to men free from the restraints of civilized life.
The visits had been returned in a short time, and then
for awhile all communication with the more distant vis-
itors had ceased, for the Hardys were too busy to spare
time upon distant rides. One or other of the party at
Canterbury, as the three Englishmen had called their
estancia, very frequently dropped in for a talk, and Mr.
Hardy and the boys often rode over there when work was
done. Canterbury was also a young settlement — only
four or five months, indeed, older than Mount Pleasant —
so that its owners, like themselves, had their hands lull
of work; but sometimes, when they knew that the
Hardys were particularly hard at work, one or two of
them would come over at daybreak and give their assist-
ance. During ^the final week's work, especially just
before Mrs. Hardy's arrival, all three came over and lent
their aid, as did the Jamiesons.

As soon as Mrs. Hardy had arrived all their neighbors
came over to call, and a very friendly intercourse was
quickly established between them. As there was no
spare bedroom at Mount Pleasant, some hammocks were
made, and hooks were put into the sitting-room walls, so
that the hammocks could be slung at night and taken
down in the morning. The English party always rode
back to Canterbury, as the distance was so short, and the
Jamiesons generally did the same; but Messrs. Percy,
Williams, and Markham usually came over in the after-
noon, and rode back again next morning.

When the press of work was over the boys and their
sisters often cantered over to Canterbury to tea, and
sometimes, but more seldom, to the Jamiesons' estancia.
The light-hearted young Englishmen were naturally
more to their fancy than the quiet and thoughtful

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Scotchmen. The latter were, however, greatly esteemed
by Mr. and Mrs. Hardy, who perceived in them a fund of
quiet good sense and earnestness.

Upon Sunday morning Mr. Hardy had service, and to
this the whole of their friends generally came. It was
held early, so that the Jamiesons and the Englishmen
could ride back to their homes before the heat of the
day, the other three remaining to dine, and returning in
the cool of the evening. Canterbury was entirely a sheep
and cattle farm. The owners had five thousand sheep,
and some hundreds of cattle; but they had comparatively
a good deal of time upon their hands, as stock and sheep
farming does not require so much personal care and su-
pervision as must be bestowed upon agricultural farms.
The Jamiesons, on the contrary, were entirely occupied
in tillage: they had no sheep, and only a few head of
cattle.

Mr. Hardy was remarking upon this one day to Mr.
Percy, who replied, "Ah, the poor fellows are very un for-
tunate. They brought out a fair capital, and had as large
a stock of sheep and cattle as the Canterbury party have.
About six months, however, before you arrived — yes, it's
just a year now — the Indians swept down upon them,
and carried off every animal they had. They attacked
the house, but the Jamiesons defended themselves well;
and the Indians were anxious to get off with their booty,
and so they beat a retreat. Pursuit was hopeless; every
liorse had been driven off, and they had to walk six miles
to the next hacienda to give the news; and long before a
party could be got together the Indians were beyond the
possibility of pursuit. Two or three hundred sheep and
a dozen or two of the bullocks found their way back, and
these and their land was all that remained to the Jamie-
sons of their capital, for they had invested all they had
in their stock. However, they looked affairs manfully

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. II?

in the face, sold their animals, bought a couple of plows
and draught bullocks, hired a peon or two, and set to
work with a will. They will get on but slowly for a
time; but I have no doubt that they will do well in the
course of a few years. Men with their pluck and per-
severance are certain to get on. That puts me in mind,
Hardy, of a matter upon which I had intended to speak
to you. We are just getting now to the time of the year
when Indian attacks are most likely to take place.
Sometimes they are quiet for a year or two, then they
are very troublesome again. Five or six years ago, just
after I first came out, we had terrible times with them.
Vast numbers of cattle were driven off: the sheep they
less seldom take, because they cannot travel so fast, but
they do drive them off sometimes. A good many shep-
herds were killed, and two or three estancias captured
and burned, and the inmates murdered. You are now the
furthest settler, and consequently the most exposed.
Your estancia is strong and well built, and you are all
well armed and good shots. You are, I think, in that
respect safe, except from sudden surprise. The dogs are
sure to give an alarm; still I should sleep with every-
thing in readiness."

"Thank you, Percy; I shall take your advice. I ex-
pected it from what I had heard when I bought the
place; but from hearing nothing of Indians all this time,
I had almost forgotten it. I will prepare for defense
without the loss of a day. The house has only one
-vulnerable point — the doors and shutters. I will measure
them this afternoon, and will get you to take over a
letter and forward it to Rosario by the first opportunity,
for some sheets of thin iron to cover them with."

Mr. Percy promised to forward the letter the very next
day by a bullock-cart he was sending in, and also that
the same cart should bring them back. He said that if

118 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

a conveyance were sent over in two days' time for them
they would be in readiness at his place.

This conversation caused Mr. Hardy great uneasiness.
It was a possibility he had been quite prepared for; but
he could not feel that the danger was really at hand
without an anxious feeling. His thousand sheep had
cost him twelve hundred and fifty dollars, and his
cattle as much more. The lambing season had come
and gone, and the flock of sheep had doubled in number.
The cattle, too, had greatly increased, and the sheep
were nearly ready for shearing. Altogether the value of
the stock was over five thousand dollars. The loss would
not be absolute ruin, as he had still three thousand dol-
lars of his original capital in the bank at Buenos Ayres;
"but it would be a very serious loss.

Mr. Hardy had been alone with Mr. Percy when the
conversation took place; but he determined at once to
take the boys into his entire confidence. He therefore
called to them to come out for a stroll down to the dam,
and told them word for word what Mr. Percy had related
to him.

Charley's eyes brightened at the thought of the excite-
ment of a fight with Indians, for which when in Eng-
land, eighteen months before, he had longed; and his
fingers tightened upon his gun as he said, "All right,
papa, let them come." Hubert's face grew a little
paler, for he was not naturally of so plucky or pugna-
cious a dispositon as his brother. However, he only said,
"Well, papa, if they do come we shall all do our best.1'

"I am sure you will, my boy," said his father kindly.
"But there is no fear if it comes to fighting. We three
with our arms can thrash a hundred of them. What I
am thinking of is our cattle, and not ourselves. We will
take good care against a sudden surprise; and it's more
than a whole tribe could do to take Mount Pleasant if we
are prepared."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 119

' "Do you mean to tell mamma and the girls, papa?"

"I mean to tell them that it is necessary for a time to
be on their guard, that the girls are on no account to
venture to ride out alone, and that they must not stir
out of the inclosure even as far as the hen-house, without
first of all going up to the top of the lookout to see that
all is clear. We must see that, in future, the sheep and
cattle and horses are all driven at night into their wire
inclosures — we have not been very particular about the
cattle lately — and that the gates are fastened and pad-
locked at night. It will puzzle them to get them out.
Our own three horses I will have in future kept within
our own inclosure, so that they may be always at hand,
night or day. I bought them with a special eye to In-
dians; they are all remarkably fast; and whether we run
away or pursue, can be relied on. And now, boys, come
up to the house, and I will open the mysterious box."

The box of which Mr. Hardy spoke was a long case,
which had never been opened since their arrival. No
entreaties of his children could induce Mr. Hardy to say
what were its contents, and the young ones had often
wondered and puzzled over what they could be. It had
come, therefore, to be known in the family as the mys-
terious box.

With greatly excited curiosity the boys now walked
toward the house; but there was a slight delay, for as
they approached Maud and Ethel came running to meet
them.

"Is anything the matter with the dam, papa? We
have been watching you having such a long talk with the
boys. What is it all about?"

Mr. Hardy now told them as much as he thought
proper of the state of things, and [gave them their in-
structions. The girls, who had no idea there was any
real danger, and who had besides an unlimited confidence

120 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

in their father and brothers, were disposed to look upon
it as fun, and Mr. Hardy had to speak quite seriously to
be sure that his orders would be strictly attended to.
The boys then informed them that the mysterious box
was to be opened, and the whole party went up to the
house.

The box had been placed in the storeroom on the
upper floor of the tower, and the boys took up screw-
drivers and hammers to open it. The latter tools were
not necessary, as the case was very carefully screwed up;
and when the top was taken off it was found that there
was an inside case of tin soldered up. As the boys were
cutting through this they expressed their opinion that,
from the extreme care taken, the contents must be very
valuable. Still Mr. Hardy would give no clew; and
when the case was finally opened, the astonishment of all
was unbounded to find that it contained four dozen large
rockets and a dozen blue-lights. One dozen of these
rockets were ordinary signal rockets, but the rest were
covered with strong tin cases.

"Fireworks!" they all exclaimed in intense surprise.
"What have you brought fireworks all this way for,
papa?"

"I will tell you, my dears. I knew that the Indians
of the pampas were horse Indians, and the idea struck
me that as they could never have seen rockets, they
would be horribly scared at night by them. Rockets,
you know, are used in war; and even if the riders are
not frightened, it is quite certain that the horses would
be horribly alarmed by one or two of these rushing fiery
things charging into their midst. I therefore had them
specially made for me by a pyrotechnist in London. One
dozen, as you see, are ordinary rockets of the largest size;
they contain colored balls, which will give out a most
brilliant light. One of them thrown into the air, even

0 UT ON THE PAMPAS.

'where we believe any Indians to be, will light up the
plain, and give us a fair view of them. The other three
dozen are loaded with crackers. As you see, I have had
a strong case of tin placed over the ordinary case; and
one of them striking a man will certainly knock him off
his horse, and probably kill him. The roar, the rush,
the train of fire, and finally the explosion and the volley
of crackers in their midst would be enough to frighten
their horses altogether beyond control. What do you
think of my idea?"

"Capital, capital!" they all cried.

"But how, papa," Hubert asked, "will you manage to
make your rockets go straight at the Indians? All the
rockets I ever saw went straight up into the air."

"Yes, Hubert, because they were pointed up. A
rocket goes whichever way it is pointed. Rockets in war
are fired through a tube, or from a trough. We will use
the trough. Set to at once, boys, and make a trough
about four feet long, without ends. It must stand on
legs high enough to raise it above the level of the wall
round the top of the tower. Let there be two legs on
the front end, and one leg behind; and this leg behind
must have a hinge, so that, when it stands upright, it
will be six or eight inches higher than the front, in case
we want to fire at anything close at hand. When we
want to elevate the head of the rocket to fire at anything
at a distance, we pull the hind leg back, so that that end
is lower than the front. Put a spike at the end of the
leg, to let it have a firm hold on the floor."

Charley thought a moment, and then said: "I think,
papa, it would be firmer, and more easily managed, if we
made two legs behind, with another one sliding up and
down between them, and with holes in it so that it can
be pegged up and down as we like."

"That would be certainly better, Charley. Put your

unaney.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

idea down upon paper, and let me see exactly what you
mean before you begin."

Charley did so, and Mr. Hardy pronounced it to be
excellent; and by night the trough was finished, and
placed in position at the top of the lookout.

Mr. Hardy, in the course of the evening, explained to
his wife that it was possible the Indians might venture
to make a dash to carry off some of the cattle, and that,
therefore, he had ordered the girls to be on the lookout,
and to adopt every precaution upon moving out. To
them he made an addition to his former instructions,
namely, that not only should they look out before leav-
ing the inclosure, but that, if one went out, the other
should go up to the top of the tower every quarter of an
hour to see that everything was still clear, and that if
both were out, Sarah should do the same. The boys
needed no instructions to load their revolving carbines,
and the pistols and a double-barreled gun were handed
over both to Lopez and Terence, with instructions to
carry them always with them. Lopez required no orders
on this score. He knew what Indians were, and had a
perfect horror of them. Their friends at Canterbury
were also put upon their guard, as their estates were also
very much exposed. Three days passed over, and then
the light iron plates arrived for the door and window
shutters. Before they were nailed on large holes were
cut in them for firing through, corresponding slits being
cut in the woodwork. When they were fastened in their
places all felt that Mount Pleasant could defy any
number of assailants.

Orders were given to Terence that in case of the dogs
giving the alarm at night, the occupants of the hut were
to retire at once to the house; to which he replied char*
acteristically:

"Sure, your honor, I suppose I may stop for a bit and
pepper the blackguard » fin f.hay get close to me,"

OUT ON TEE PAMPAS. 128

"Not at all, Terence; you are to retire at once to the
bouse. When we are once all together we shall be able
to decide, according to the number of the enemy, as to
whether we shall sally out and pepper them, or stand
upon the defensive."

And 30^ every one having received their instructions in
case of emergency, things went on pretty much as before.

O ITT ON THE PAMPAS

CHAPTER X.

THE LOST CATTLE.

A FOBTNIGHT passed without the slightest incident or
alarm. The rules which Mr. Hardy had laid down were
strictly observed. The sheep and cattle were carefully
secured at night; two or three of the native dog«s were
fastened up, down at the fold; one of the mastiffs was
kept at the men's hut, while the other's kennel was
placed by the house; the retrievers, as usual, sleeping
indoors. A flagstaff was erected upon the lookout, with
a red flag in readiness to be run up to summon those who
might be away on the plain, and a gun was kept loaded
to call attention to the signal. The boys, when they
went out for their rides, carried their carbines instead of
their guns. The girls fulfilled the duties of lookouts,
going up every half-hour from daybreak to dusk; and
the call of "Sister Anne, do you see horsemen?" was in-
variably answered in the negative. One day, however,
Mr. Hardy had ridden over to Canterbury to arrange
with his friends about hiring shearers from Eosario for
the united flocks. The boys and Terence were in the
fields plowing, at a distance of half a mile from the
house, when they were startled by the sound of a gun.
Looking round, they saw both the girls standing upon
the tower: Maud had just fired the gun, and Ethel was
pulling up the flag.

"Be jabers! and the Indians have come at last!'*
Terence exclaimed, and they all three started at a run.

OUT ON TEE PAMPAS.

Maud turned round and waved her hand to them, and
then she and Ethel continued looking over the plain..
Ai this moment they were joined on the tower by Mrs.
Hardy and Sarah.

"It is all right," Charley, who was of an unexcitabla
temperament, said. "The Indians must be a long way
off, or the girls would be waving to us to make haste.
Take it easy; we shall want to keep our hands steady."

So they broke from the headlong speed at which they
_had started into a steady trot, which in five minutes
brought them up to the house.

"What is it?" they exclaimed as they gained the top
of the tower.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear!" Ethel said. "They have got
all the animals."

"And I fear they have killed Gomez and Pedro," Mrs.
Hardy added.

It was too evidently true. At a distance of six miles
the boys could see a dark mass rapidly retreating, and
numerous single specks could be seen hovering round
them. Two miles from the house a single horseman was
galloping wildly. The girls had already made him out.
to be Lopez.

The boys and Terence stood speechless with dismay.
The Irishman was the first to find his tongue0

"Och, the thundering villains!" he exclaimed; "the
hathen thieves! And to think that not one of us was
there to give them a bating."

"What will papa say?" Hubert ejaculated.

Charley said nothing, but looked frowningly, with
tightly closed lips, after the distant mass, while his hands
closed upon his carbine. "How was it, Maud?" he
asked at length.

"I was downstairs," Maud said, "when Ethel, who-
had just gone up, called down, 'Come up, Maud,

126 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

quickly; I think that something's the matter/ I ran up
the steps, and I saw our animals a long way off, nearly
four miles, and I saw a black mass of something going
along fast toward them from the left. They were rather
nearer to us than the cattle were, and were in one of the
slopes of the ground, so that they would not have been
seen by any one with the cattle; then, as they got quite
near the animals, I saw a sudden stir. The beasts began
to gallop away, and three black specks— who, I suppose,
were the men— separated themselves from them and
went off sideways. One seemed to get a start of the
other two. These were cut off by the black mass, and I
did not see anything more of them. Lopez got away;
and though some of the others rode after him for about
a mile, they could not overtake him. Directly I saw
what it was, I caught up the gu,n and fired, and Ethel
ran up the flag. That's all I saw."

Ethel confirmed her sister's account, merely adding
that, seeing the two bodies in the distance, one going
very fast toward the other, she suspected that something
was wrong, and so called at once to Maud.

The animals were now quite out of sight, and the
whole party went down to meet Lopez, who was just
riding up to the inclosure. He was very pale, and his
horse was covered with foam.

"Are the peons killed, Lopez?" was Mrs. Hardy's first
question.

"I do not know, signora; but I should think so. The
Indians caught them; I heard a scream," and the man
shuddered. "Santa Virgine" — and he crossed himself
piously — "what an escape! I will burn twenty pounds
of candles upon your altar."

"How was it that you were surprised, Lopez?"
Charley asked. "You were so particularly ordered to
keep a good lookout."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"Well, Signer Charles, I was keeping a good lookout,
tnd it is lucky that I was. I was further away than I
ought to have been — I know that, for the signor told ma
not to go far; but I knew that the rise that I took them
to was the highest in that direction, and that I could see
for miles away into the Indian country. So I got out
there, and Pedro and Gomez had got the sheep and cattle
all well together, and there was no fear of them stray-
ing, for the grass there is very good. So the men lay
down for their siesta, and I was standing by my horse
looking over the campo. Some of the beasts seemed
uneasy, and I thought that there must be a lion some-
where about. So I got on my horse, and just as I did so
I heard a noise; and looking behind, where I had never
dreamed of them, I saw a lot of Indians coming up at
full gallop from the hollow. The cattle went off at the
game instant; and I gave a shout to the men, and stuck
nay spurs into Carlos. It was a near touch of it, and
they gave me a hard chase for the first mile; but my
horse was fresher than theirs, and they gave it up."

"How many Indians were there?" Charley asked.

"I don't know, Signor Charles. It was only those in
front that I caught sight of, and I never looked round
after I started. Some of them had firearms, for eight or
ten of them fired after me as I made off, and the arrows
fell all round me."

"What do you think, girls, about the number?"

The girls were silent, and then Ethel said: "They
were all in a lump, Charley. One could not see them
separately."

"The lump seemed to be about the size that our cattle
do when they are close together at the same distance.
Don't you think so, Ethel?" Maud said.

"Yes," Ethel thought that they were.

"Then there must be from alrundred to a hundred and
fifty of them," Charley said.

130 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

inclosure, girls, until we return. Terence, too, is to
remain inside, and can sleep in the house to-night; so
also can Lopez. You will therefore be well protected.
Let us have something to eat, and then in ten minutes
we will be in the saddle. Charley, fetch down three
blue-lights, two signal rockets, and two of the tin rockets.
Maud, fill our pocket-flasks with brandy. Hubert, you
boys will each take your carbine and a revolver; I will
carry my long rifle, and the other two Colts."

In ten minutes they were ready to mount, and after a
final embrace, and many a "Be sure and take care of
yourselves" from their mother and sisters, they started
off across the plain at a long, steady gallop.

"They have got just an hour's start, boys," Mr. Hardy
said. "Your mother said that it was exactly half an
hour from the first alarm to my arrival, and I was in
the house a minute or two under that time. It is about
half-past twelve now."

"It is very fortunate, papa, that we had our horsea
safe up at the house."

"Yes, boys. If we had been obliged to wait until to-
morrow morning before starting, our chance of coming
up would have been very slight. As it is, we shall be up
with them in three or four hours. The sheep cannot go
really fast more than twelve or fifteen miles, especially
with their heavy fleeces on."

Half an hour's riding took them to the scene of the
attack. As they neared it they saw two figures lying
upon the grass. There was no occasion to go near: the
stiff and distorted attitudes were sufficient to show that
they were dead.

Mr. Hardy purposely avoided riding close to them,
knowing that the shocking sight of men who have met
with a violent death is apt to shake the nerves of any one
unaccustomed to such a sight, however brave he may be.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 131

"They are evidently dead, poor fellows!" h© said.
"It is no use our stopping."

Charley looked at the bodies with a fierce frown upon
his face, and muttered to himself, "We'll pay them out
for you, the cowardly scoundrels."

Hubert did not even glance toward them. He was a
tender-hearted boy and he felt his face grow pale and a
strange feeling of sickness come over him, even at the
momentary glance which he had at first taken at the
rigid figures.

"I suppose you do not mean to attack them until
night, papa?" Charley asked.

"Well, boys, I have been thinking the matter over,
and I have come to the conclusion that it will be better
to do so directly we get up to them."

"And do you think, papa, that we three will be able
to thrash the lot of them? They must be a poor, miser-
able set of cowards."

"No, Charley; I do not think that we shall be able to
thrash the lot, as you say; but with our weapons, we
shall be able to give them a terrible lesson. If we attack
at night they will soon find out how few are our num-
bers, and having no particular dread of our weapons,
may rush at us, and overpower us in spite of them.
Another thing, boys, is, I want to give them a lesson.
They must know that they shan't come and murder and
steal on our place with impunity."

Scarcely another word was exchanged for the next
hour. At a long, steady gallop they swept along.
There was no difficulty in following the track, for the
long grass was trampled in a wide swath. Several
times, too, exclamations of rage burst from the boys as
they came across a dead sheep, evidently speared by the
savages because he coufd not keep up with the others.
After passing several of them, Mr. Hardy called to the

133 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

boys to halt, while he leaped off his horse by the side of
one of the sheep, and put his hand against its body and
into its month.

"It's quite dead; isn't it, papa?" Hubert said.

"Quite, Hubert; I never thought it was alive." And
Hr. Hardy leaped upon his horse again. "I wanted to
see how warm the body was. If we try again an hour's
ride ahead, we shall be able to judge, by the increased
heat of the body, as to how much we have gained on the
Indians, and whether they are far ahead. You see, boys,
when I was young man, I was out many times in Texas
against the Comanches and Apaches, who are a very dif-
ferent enemy from these cowardly Indians here. One
had to keep one's eyes open there, for they were every
bit as brave as we were. Don't push on so fast, Charley.
Spare your horse; you will want all he's got in him be-
fore you have done. I think that we must be gaining
upon them very fast now. You see the dead sheep lie
every hundred yards or so, instead of every quarter of a
mile. The Indians know well enough that it would take
a whole day out on the edge of the settlements to collect
a dozen men for pursuit, and would have no idea that
three men would set off alone; so I expect that they will
now have slackened their pace a little, to give the sheep
breathing time."

After another ten minutes' ride Mr. Hardy again
alighted, and found a very perceptible increase of
warmth in the bodies of the sheep. "I do not think
that they can have been dead much more than a quarter
of an hour. Keep a sharp lookout ahead, boys; we may
see them at the top of the next rise."

Not a word was spoken for the next few minutes.
Two or three slight swells were crossed without any sign
of the enemy; and then, upon breasting a rather higher
rise than usual, they saw a mass of moving beings in the
distance.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 133

"Halt!" Mr. Hardy shouted, and the boys instantly
drew rein. "Jump off, boys. Only our heads have
shown against the sky. They can hardly have noticed
them. There, hold my horse; loosen the saddle-girths
of yours too, and let them breathe freely. Take the
bridles out of their mouths. It seemed to me, by the
glimpse I got of our enemies, that they were just stop-
ping. I am going on to make sure of it."

So saying Mr. Hardy again went forward a short dis-
tance, going on his hands and knees as he came on to the
crest of the rise, in order that his head might not show
above the long grass. When he reached it he saw at
once that his first impression had been correct. At a
distance of a little over a mile a mass of animals were
collected, and round them were scattered a number of
horses, while figures of men were moving among them.

"It is as I thought, boys," he said when he rejoined
his sons. "They have stopped for awhile. The animals
must all be completely done up; they cannot have coma
less than thirty miles, and will require three or four
hours' rest, at the least, before they are fit to travel
again. One hour will do for our horses. Rinse their
mouths out with a little water, and let them graze if they
are disposed: in half an hour we will give them each a
double handful of Indian corn."

Having attended to their horses, which they hobbled
to prevent their straying, Mr. Hardy and the boys sat
down and made a slight meal. None of them felt very
hungry, the excitement of the approaching attack having
driven away the keen appetite that they would have
otherwise gained from their ride; but Mr. Hardy begged
the boys to endeavor to eat something, as they would be
sure to feel the want of food later.

The meal over, Mr. Hardy lit his favorite pipe, while
the boys went cautiously up the hill to reconnoiter.

134 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

There was no change; most of the animals were lying
down, and there was little sign of movement. Two or
three Indians, however, were standing motionless and
rigid by their horses' sides, evidently acting as sentries.
The boys thought that hour the longest that they had
ever passed. At last, however, their father looked at his
watch, shook the ashes out of his pipe and put it in his
pocket. "Now, boys, it is five minutes to the hour.
Examine your carbines and revolvers, see that every-
thing is in order, and that there is no hitch. Tighten
the saddle-girths and examine the buckles. See that
your ammunition and spare carbine chambers are ready
at hand."

In another five minutes the party were in their
saddles.

"Now, boys, my last words. Don't ride ahead or lag
behind: regulate your pace by mine. Look out for
armadillo holes — they are more dangerous than the
Indians. Remember my orders: on no account use the
second chamber of your carbines unless in case of great
urgency. Change the chambers directly you have
emptied them, but don't fire a shot until the spare ones
are charged again. Now, boys, hurrah for old England!"

"Hurrah!" the boys both shouted as they started at a
canter up the rise. As they caught sight of the Indians
everything was quiet as before; but in another moment
they saw the men on watch throw themselves on to their
horses' backs, figures leaped up from the grass and ran
toward their horses, and in little over a minute the
whole were in motion.

"Surely they are not going to run away from three
men!" Charley said in a disgusted tone.

"They won't run far, Charley," Mr. Hardy said
quietly. "By the time that we are halfway to them they
will see that we can have no one with us, and then they
will come on quickly enough."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 135

It was as Mr. Hardy said. Keen as had been the
watch kept by the Indians, in spite of their belief that
no pursuing force could be sent after them, it was some
little time before they could get the weary animals on
their legs and in motion; and even at the easy canter at
which Mr. Hardy approached, he had neared them to
within half a mile before they were fairly off. A small
party only continued to drive the animals, and the rest
of the Indians, wheeling sharp round, and uttering a wild
war-cry, came back at full gallop toward the whites.

"Halt, boys — steady, dismount: take up your positiona
quietly. Don't fire till I give you the word. I shall try
my rifle first."

The well-trained horses, accustomed to their masters
firing from their backs, stood as steady as if carved in
stone, their heads turned inquiringly toward the yelling
throng of horsemen who were approaching. Mr. Hardy
and the boys had both dismounted, so that the horses
were between them and the Indians, the saddles serving
as rests for their firearms.

"Five hundred yards, Charley?" his father asked
quietly.

"A little over, papa; nearly six, I should say."

Mr. Hardy waited another ten seconds, and then his
rifle cracked; and a yell of astonishment and rage broke
from the Indians, as one of their chiefs, conspicuous
from an old dragoon helmet, taken probably in some
skirmish with the soldiers, fell from his horse.

"Hurrah!" Charley cried. "Shall we fire now, papa?"

"No, Charley," Mr. Hardy said as he reloaded his
rifle; "wait till they are four hundred yards off, then fire
slowly. Count ten between each shot, and take as
steady an aim as possible. Now! Well done, two more
of the scoundrels down. Steady, Hubert, you missed
that time: there, that's better."

136 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

The Indians yelled with rage and astonishment as man
after man dropped before the steady and, to them, mys-
terious fire which was kept up upon them. Still they
did not abate the rapidity of their charge.

"Done, papa," Charley said as the two boys simulta-
neously fired their last shot, when the leading Indians were
about two hundred and fifty yards distant.

"Change your chambers and mount/' Mr. Hardy said
as he again took aim with his rifle.

The enemy was not more than a hundred and fifty
yards distant, when they leaped into their saddles and
started at a gallop.

"Steady, boys, keep your horses well in hand* Never
mind their balls; they could no more hit a man at this
distance from the back of a horse than they could fly.
There is no chance of their catching us; there won't be
many horses faster than ours, and ours are a good deal
fresher. Keep a good lookout for holes."

Both pursuers and pursued were now going over the
ground at a tremendous pace. The Indians had ceased
firing, for most of those who had guns had discharged
them as Mr. Hardy and his sons had mounted, and it
was impossible to load at the speed at which they were
going.

During the first mile of the chase Mr. Hardy had
looked round several times, and had said each time, "We
are holding our own, boys; they are a good hundred
yards behind; keep your horses in hand."

At the end of another mile his face brightened as he
looked round. "All right, boys, they are tailing off fast.
Three-quarters of them have stopped already. There
are not above a score of the best mounted anywhere near
us. Another mile and we will give them a lesson."

The mile was soon traversed, and Mr. Hardy saw that
only about twelve Indians had maintained their dis-
tance.

ONSET OP THE INDIANS.— Page 136.

V OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 137

"Now is the time, boys. When I say halt, draw up
and jump off, but take very steady aim always at the
nearest. Don't throw away a shot. They are only a
hundred yards off, and the revolvers will tell. Don't
try to use the second chamber; there is no time for that.
Use your pistols when you have emptied your carbines.
Halt!"

Not five seconds elapsed after the word was spoken
before Charley's carbine rang out. Then came the
sharp cracks of the carbines and pistols in close succes-
sion. The Indians hesitated at the tremendous fire
which was opened upon them, then halted. The delay
was fatal to them. In little over half a minute the
eighteen shots had been fired. Five Indians lay upon the
plain; another, evidently a chief, had been carried off
across the saddle of one of his followers, who had leaped
off when he saw him fall; and two others were evidently
wounded, and had difficulty in keeping their seats.

"Now, boys, change your chambers, and take a shot
or two after them," Mr. Hardy said as he again reloaded
his rifle.

The boys, however, found by the time they were
ready that the flying Indians were beyond any fair
chance of hitting; but their father took a long and
steady aim with his deadly rifle, and upon its report a
horse and man went down. But the rider was in an
instant upon his feet again, soon caught one of the rider-
less horses which had galloped off with its companions,
and followed his comrades.

"Well done, boys," Mr. Hardy said, with a hearty pat
on their shoulders. "You have done gallantly for a first
fight, and I feel proud of you."

Both boys colored with pleasure.

"How many have we killed?"

"I think seven fell at our first attack, papa, and six

138 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

here, counting the one they carried off, besides
wounded."

"Thirteen. It is enough to make them heartily wish
themselves back. Now let us give the horses ten min-
utes' rest, and then we will stir them up again. We
must not lose time; it will be sunset in another three-
quarters of an hour."

Half an hour's riding again brought them up to the
Indians, who had stopped within a mile of their former
halting-place.

"The moon will be up by one o'clock, boys, and they
mean to remain where they are till then. Do you see
that hollow that runs just this side of where they are?
2s0 doubt there is a small stream there."

This time the Indians made no move to retreat fur-
ther. They knew now that their assailants were only
three in number. They were armed, indeed, with
weapons which, in their terrible rapidity of fire, were
altogether beyond anything they had hitherto seen; but
ia the darkness these would be of no avail against a
sudden rush.

But if the Indians did not run away neither did they,
as before, attack their assailants. Their horses had been
placed in the middle of the cattle, with a few Indians
standing by them to keep them quiet. The rest of the
Indians were not to be seen, but Mr. Hardy guessed that
they were lying down in the long grass, or were concealed
among the animals.

"The rascals have got a clever chief among them, boys.
Except those half-dozen heads we see over the horses'
backs, there is nothing to see of them. They know that
if we go close they can pick us off with their guns and
bows and arrows, without giving us a single fair shot at
them. Don't go any nearer, boys; no doubt there ara
many of their best shots hidden in the grass."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"We could scatter the cattle with a rocket, papa."

"Yes, we could, Hubert, but we should gain nothing
by it; they have got men by their horses, and would soon
get the herd together again. No, we will keep that for
the night. Halloo! to the right, boys, for your lives."

Not a moment too soon did Mr. Hardy perceive the
danger. The chief of the Indians, expecting another
attack, had ordered twenty of his best mounted men to
separate themselves from the main body, and to hide
themselves in a dip of the ground near the place where
the first attack had taken place. They were to allow the
whites to pass, and were then to follow quietly, and fall
suddenly upon them.

Complete success had attended the maneuver; and it
was fortunate that the party had no firearms, these hav-
ing been distributed among the main body with the
cattle, for they were within forty yards of Mr. Hardy
before they were seen. It was, in fact, a repetition of
the maneuver which had proved so successful in their
attack upon the cattle.

They were not immediately in the rear of Mr. Hardy,
but rather to the left. As Mr. Hardy and his sons
turned to fly, a number of Indians sprang upon their
feet from among the grass, and discharged a volley of
guns and arrows at them. Fortunately the distance was
considerable. One of their arrows, however, struck Mr.
Hardy's horse in the shoulder, while another stuck in
the rider's arm. Another went through the calf of
Hubert's leg, and stuck in the flap of the saddle.

There was no time for word or complaint. They
buried their spurs in their horses' sides, and the gallant
animals, feeling that the occasion was urgent, seemed
almost to fly. In a mile they were able to break into a
steady gallop, the enemy being now seventy or eighty
yards behind. Mr. Hardy had already pulled the arrow

140 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

from his arm, and Hubert now extracted his. As he
stooped to do so his father, who had not noticed that he
was wounded, saw what he was doing.

"Hurt much, old man?"

"Not much/' Hubert said; but it did hurt a good deal
nevertheless.

"I don't want to tire our horses any more, boys," Mr.
Hardy said; "I shall try and stop those rascals with one
of my revolvers."

So saying, he drew one of his pistols from his holster,
and turning round in his saddle, took a steady aim and
fired.

At the same instant, however, his horse trod in a hole
and fell, Mr. Hardy being thrown over its head with tre-
mendous force. The boys reined their horses hard in,
and Hubert gave a loud cry as he saw his father remain
stiff and unmoved on the ground. The Indians set up a
wild yell of triumph.

"Steady, Hubert. Jump off. Pick up papa's pistol.
Arrange the horses in a triangle round him. That's
right. Now don't throw away a shot."

The nearest Indian was scarcely thirty yards off when
Charley's bullet crashed into his brain. The three im-
mediately following him fell in rapid succession, another
chief's arm sank useless to his side, while the horse of
another fell, shot through the brain.

Both the boys were pale, but their hands were as
steady as iron. They felt as if, with their father lying
insensible under their protection, they could not miss.

So terrible was the destruction which the continued
fire wrought among the leaders that the others instinc-
tively checked the speed of their horses as they
approached the little group, from which fire and balls
seemed to stream, and began to discharge arrows at the
boys, hanging on the other side of their horses, so that

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 141

by their foes they could not be seen, a favorite maneuver
with the Indians. As the boys fired their last barrels
they drew their revolvers from the holsters, and, taking
aim as the Indians showed a head or an arm under their
horses' necks or over their backs, their twelve barrels
added to the Indians scattered over the ground.

"Now, Hubert, give me the two last revolvers, and put
the two fresh chambers into the carbines."

Seeing only one of their foes on the defense, the In-
dians again made a rush forward. Charley shot the two
first with a revolver, but the others charged up, and he
stooped a moment to avoid a spear, rising a little on one
side, and discharging with both hands his pistols at the
Indians, who were now close. "Quick, Hubert," he
said, as he shot with his last barrel an Indian who had
just driven his spear into the heart of Mr. Hardy's horse.

The animal fell dead as it stood, and the Indians with
a yell charged at the opening, but as they did so Hubert
slipped a carbine into his brother's hand, and the two
again poured in the deadly fire which had so checked the
Indians' advance.

The continuation of the fire appalled the Indians, and
the seven that survived turned and fled.

"I will load, Hubert," Charley said, trying to speak
steadily. "See to papa at once. Empty one of the
water-gourds upon his face and head."

Hubert looked down with a cold shudder. Neither of
the boys had dared to think during that brief fight.
They had had many falls before on the soft turf of the
pampas, but no hurt had resulted, and both were more
frightened at the insensibility of their father than at the
Indian horde which were so short a distance away, and
•which would no doubt return in a few minutes in over-
whelming force.
i Great, then, was Hubert's delight, when upon looking

142 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

round he saw that Mr. Hardy had raised himself with
his arms.

"What has happened?" he said in a confused manner.

"Are you hurt, papa?" Hubert asked, with tears of
joy running down his face; "you frightened us both so
dreadfully. Please drink a little water, and I will pour
a little over your face."

Mr. Hardy, drank some water, and Hubert dashed
some more in his face. "That will do, Hubert," he said
with a smile; "you will drown me. There, I am all
right now. I was stunned, I suppose. There you are,"
and he got up on to his feet; "you see I am not hurt.
And now, where are the Indians?"

"There, papa," said the boys with pardonable triumph,
as they pointed to thirteen dead Indians.

Their father could not speak. He grasped their hands
warmly. He saw how great the danger must have been,
and how gallantly his boys must have borne themselves.

"The Indians may be back in a few minutes, papa.
Your horse is dead, but there is one of the Indians'
standing by his dead master. Let us catch him and shift
the saddle." The animal, when they approached it,
made no move to take flight, and they saw that his
master's foot, as he fell, had become entangled in the
Jasso, and the well-trained beast had stood without mov-
ing. In three minutes the saddles were transferred, and
the party again ready for fight or flight.

"What next, papa?"

"We turned to the right, and rather toward home,
when we started; so the Indian halting-place is to the
southeast of us, is it not?"

"Yes, papa; as near as may be," Charley said, making
out the points with some difficulty on the pocket com-
pass, one of which they each carried, as the danger of
being lost upon the pathless pampas is very great.

I OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 143

"We had ridden about two miles when I got my fall,
so we are a mile to the west of their camp. "We will ride
now a couple of miles due north. The Indians are sure
to send out a scout to see whether we have returned
liome, and our track will lead them to believe that we
liave. It is dusk now. We shall get three hours' rest
before we have to move."

It was perfectly dark before they reached their halt-
ing-place. The saddles were again loosened, a little
Indian corn, moistened with water, given to the horses,
and another slight meal taken by themselves. The boys,
l)y Mr. Hardy's orders, though sorely against their own
wishes, then lay down to get a couple of hours' sleep;
while Mr. Hardy went back about a hundred yards along
the trail they had made on coming, and then turned
aside and sat down at a distance of a few yards to watch,
in case any Indian should have followed up their trail.

Here he sat for over two hours, and then returned to
the boys. Charley he found fast asleep. The pain of
Hubert's wound had kept him awake. Mr. Hardy poured
Borne water over the bandage, and then, waking Charley,
gave them instructions as to the part they were to play.

Both of them felt rather uncomfortable when they
heard that they were to be separated from their father.
They raised no objections, however, and promised to
obey his instructions to the letter. They then mounted
their horses — Hubert having to be lifted up, for his leg
was now very stiff and sore — and then began to retrace
their steps, keeping a hundred yards or so to the west of
the track by which they had come.

They rode in single file, and they had taken the precau-
tion of fastening a piece of tape round their horses'
nostrils and mouth, to prevent their snorting should
they approach any of their own species. The night was
dark, but the stars shone out clear and bright. At start-

144 0 UT ON THE PAMPAS.

ing Mr. Hardy had opened his watch, and had felt by
the hands that it was ten o'clock. After some time ha
felt again.

It was just half an hour from the time of their start-
ing.

"Now, boys, we are somewhere close to the place of
your fight. In another ten minutes we must separate."

At the end of that time they again closed up.

"Now, boys, you see that bright star. That is nearly
due east of us; go on as nearly as you can guess for ten.
minutes, at a walk, as before. You will then be within.
a mile of the enemy. Then get off your horses. Mind,
on no account whatever are you to leave their bridles,
but stand with one hand on the saddle, ready to throw
yourself into it. Keep two blue-lights, and give me one.
Don't speak a word, but listen as if your lives depended
upon detecting a sound, as indeed they do. You are to
remain there until you see that I have fairly succeeded
and then you are to dash in behind the cattle and fire off
your revolvers, and shout so as to quicken their pace as
much as possible. I do not think there is the least fear
of the Indians following, the rockets will scare them too
much. When you have chased the herd for about two
miles, draw aside half a mile on their side, and then
listen for the Indians passing in pursuit of the cattle;
wait ten minutes, and then blow your dog-whistle — a
sharp, short note. If you hear Indians following you, or
think there is danger, blow twice, and go still further to
the right. God bless you, boys. I don't think there is
much fear of your falling upon any scouts; they have
been too badly cut up to-day, and must look upon our
guns as witches. I need not say keep together, and, if
attacked, light a blue-light and throw it down; ride a
short way out of its circle of light, and I will come
straight to you through everything. Don't be nervous
about me. There is not the least danger."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 145

i

In another minute the boys lost sight of their father,
and turning their horses proceeded in the direction he
had ordered. Every now and then they stopped to
listen, but not a sound could they hear. Their own
horses' hoofs made no noise as they fell upon the soft
turf.

At the end of the ten minutes, just as Charley was
thinking of stopping, they heard a sound which caused
them to halt simultaneously. It was the low baa of a
sheep, and seemed to come from directly ahead of them.
Charley now alighted, and Hubert brought his horse up
beside him, keeping his place, however, in the saddle,
but leaning forward on the neck of his horse, for he felt
that if he got off he should be unable to regain his seat
hurriedly in case of alarm.

"About a mile off, I should say, by the sound,"
Charley whispered; "and just in the direction we
expected."

The spot Charley had chosen for the halt was a slight
hollow, running east and west; so that, even had the
moon been up, they would not have been visible except
to any one in the line of the hollow.

Here, their carbines cocked and ready for instant use,
they remained standing for what appeared to them ages,
listening with the most intense earnestness for any sound
which might tell of the failure or success of their
father's enterprise.

Mr. Hardy had ridden on for, as nearly as he could
tell, two miles, so that he was now to the southwest of
the enemy; then, turning west, he kept along for
another mile, when he judged that he was, as nearly as
possible, a mile in their direct rear. He now advanced
with the greatest caution, every faculty absorbed in the
sense of listening. He was soon rewarded by the sound
of the baaing of the sheep; and dismounting and leading

146 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

his horse, he gradually approached the spot. At last, on
ascending a slight rise, he fancied that he could make out
a black mass, at a distance of a quarter of a mile. Of
this, however, he was not certain; but he was sure, from
an occasional sound, that the herd was exactly in thia
direction, and at about that distance.

He now left his horse, taking the precaution of tying
all four legs, to prevent his starting off at the sound of
the rockets. He next set to work to cut some turf, with
•which he formed a narrow sloping bank, with a hollow
for the rocket to rest in — calculating the exact distance,
and the angle required. During this operation he
stopped every minute or two and listened with his ear on
the ground; but except a faint stamping noise from the
distant cattle all was quiet.

All being prepared, Mr. Hardy took the signal rocket,
and placing it at a much higher angle than that intended
for the others, struck a match and applied it to the
touch-paper. In a moment afterward there was a loud
roar, and the rocket soared up, with its train of brilliant
sparks behind it, and burst almost over the Indian
camp. Five or six balls of an intense white light broke
from it, and gradually fell toward the ground, lighting
up the whole surrounding plain.

A yell of astonishment and fear broke from the
Indians, and in a moment another rocket rushed out.

Mr. Hardy watched its fiery way with anxiety, and saw
'with delight that its direction was true. Describing a
slight curve, it rushed full at the black mass, struck
something, turned abruptly, and then exploded with a
loud report, followed instantly by a cracking noise, like
a straggling fusillade of musketry.

It had scarcely ceased before the third followed it,
greeted, like its predecessors, with a yell from the
Indians.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Its success was equal to that of its predecessors, and
Mr. Hardy was delighted by the sound of a dull, heavy
noise, like distant thunder, and knew that the success
'was complete, and that he had stampeded the cattle.

He now ran to his horse, which was trembling in
every limb and struggling wildly to escape, soothed it by
patting it, loosed its bonds, sprang into the saddle, and
went off at full gallop in the direction by which he had
come. He had riot ridden very far before he heard, in
the still night air, the repeated sound of firearms, and
knew that the boys were upon the trail of the cattle.
Mr. Hardy had little fear of the Indians pursuing them;
he felt sure that the slaughter of the day by the new and
mysterious firearms, together with the effect of the
rockets, would have too much terrified and cowed them
for them to think of anything but flight. He was, how-
ever, much alarmed when, after a quarter of a hour's
riding, he heard a single sharp whistle at about a few
hundred yards' distance.

"Hurrah! papa," the boys said as he rode up to them.
"They have gone by at a tremendous rush—sheep and
cattle and all. We started the moment we saw your
first rocket, and got up just as they rushed past, and we
joined in behind and fired, and yelled till we were hoarse.
I don't think they will stop again to-night."

"Did you see or hear anything of the Indians, boys?"

"Nothing, papa. When the first rocket burst we saw
several dark figures leap up from the grass — where they
had been, no doubt, scouting — and run toward the camp
but that was all. What are we to do now?4'

"Ride on straight for home. We need not trouble
about the animals; they won't stop till they are back.
We must go easily, for our horses have done a very long
day's work already. They have been between fifty and
sixty miles. I think that we had better ride on for

14B OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

another hour. By that time the moon will be up, and
we shall be able to see for miles across the plain. Then
we will halt till daybreak — it will only be three hours —
and the horses will be able to carry us in at a canter
afterward."

And so it was done. In an hour the moon was fairly
up, and, choosing a rise whence a clear view could be
obtained, the horses were allowed to feed, and Mr. Hardy
and Hubert lay down to sleep, Charley taking the post
of sentry, with orders to wake the others at daybreak.

The day was just dawning when he aroused them.
"Wake up, papa. There are some figures coming over
the plain."

Mr. Hardy and Hubert were on their feet in an
instant. "Where, Charley?"

"From the north, papa. They must have passed us in
their pursuit of the cattle, and are now returning—
empty-handed, anyhow; for there are only seven or eight
of them, and they are driving nothing before them."

By this time all three were in the saddle again.

"Shall we attack them, papa?"

"No, boys; we have given them quite a severe lesson
enough. At the same time, we wttl move a little across,
so that we can get a good sight of them as they pass, and
make sure that they have got nothing with them."

"They are coming exactly this way, papa."

"Yes, I see, Hubert; they are no doubt riding back
upon their trail. They will turn off quickly enough
when they see us."

But the newcomers did not do so, continuing straight
forward.

"Get your carbines ready, boys; but don't fire till I
tell you. They must belong to some other party, and
cannot know what has happened. No doubt they take
us for Indians."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 149

"I don't think they are Indians at all/' Hubert said,
as the figures rapidly approached.

"Don't you, Hubert? We shall soon see. Halloo!"

"Halloo! hurrah!" came back to them; and in another
five minutes they were shaking hands heartily with their
three friends from Canterbury, the Jamiesons, and two
or three other neighboring settlers.

They told them that Farquhar, as soon as Lopez
brought news of the attack, had sent mounted men off
to all the other settlements, begging them to meet that
night at Mount Pleasant. By nine o'clock they had
assembled, and, after a consultation, had agreed that the
Indians would be satisfied with their present booty, and
that therefore no guard would be necessary at their own
estancias.

A good feed and four hours' rest had been given to
their horses, and when the moon rose they had started.
Two hours after leaving they had seen a dark mass ap-
proaching, and had prepared for an encounter; but it
had turned out to be the animals, who were going toward
home at a steady pace. There seemed, they said, to be
a good many horses among them.

Assured by this that some encounter or other had
taken place with the Indians, they had ridden on with
much anxiety, and were greatly relieved at finding Mr.
Hardy and his boys safe.

The whole party now proceeded at a rapid pace toward
home, which they reached in four hours' riding. As
they came in sight of the watch-tower Mr. Herries
separated himself from the others, and rode thirty or
forty yards away to the left, returning to the others.
This he repeated three times, greatly to Mr. Hardy's
surprise.

"What are you doing, Herries?" he asked.

"I am letting them know you are all well. We agreed

L

150 OUT ON TEE PAMPAS.

upon that signal before we started. They would be able
to notice one separate himself from the rest in that way
as far as they could see us, and long before they could
make out any other sort of signal."

In a short time three black spots could be seen upon
the plain in the distance. These the boys very shortly
pronounced to be Mrs. Hardy and the girls.

When they approached the rest of the party fell back,
to allow Mr. Hardy and his sons to ride forward and have
the pleasure of the first meeting to themselves. Need-
less is it to tell with what a feeling of delight and thank-
fulness Mrs. Hardy, Maud, and Ethel received them.
After the first congratulations the girls observed that
Mr. Hardy had his arm bound up with a handkerchief.

"Are you hurt, papa?" they exclaimed anxiously.

"Nothing to speak of — only an arrow in my arm. Old
Hubert has got the worst of it: he has had one through
the calf of his leg."

"Poor old Hubert!" they cried. And Hubert had
some difficulty in persuading the girls that he could wait
on very fairly till he reached home without his being
bandaged or otherwise touched.

"And how did it all happen?" Mrs. Hardy asked.

"I will tell you all about it when we have had break-
fast, my dear," her husband said. "I have told our
friends nothing about it yet, for it is a long story, and
one telling will do for it. I suppose the animals have
got back? How many are missing?"

"Lopez came in from counting them just as we
started," Mrs. Hardy said. "He says there are only four
or five cattle missing, and about a couple of hundred
sheep; and, do you know, in addition to our own horses,
there are a hundred and twenty-three Indian horses?"

"Hurrah!" the boys shouted delightedly. "That is a
triumph; isn't it, papa?"

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 151

"It is indeed, boys; and explains readily enough how
it was that there was not the slightest attempt at pur-
suit. The Indian horses evidently broke their lariats
and joined in the stampede. I suppose Lopez has driven
them all into the inclosure?"

"Oh, yes, papa. They went in by themselves with our
own animals, and Terence shut the gate at once."

In another quarter of an hour they reached the house,
received by Sarah and Terence — the latter being almost
beside himself with joy at his master's safe return, and
with vexation when he heard that there had been a fight,
and that he had not been able to take part in it.

Orders had been given to Sarah to prepare breakfast
the instant the returning party had been seen, and their
signal of "all safe" been made out. It was now ready;
but before sitting down to it Mr. Hardy begged all pres-
ent to join in a short thanksgiving to God for their
preservation from extreme peril.

All knelt, and as they followed Mr. Hardy's words,
they were sure, from the emotion with which he spoke,
that the peril, of the particulars of which they were at
present ignorant, had been indeed a most imminent one.

This duty performed,, all fell to with great heartiness
to breakfast; and when that was over Mr. Hardy related
the whole story. Very greatly were Mrs. Hardy and the
girls amazed at the thoughts of the great peril through
which their father and the boys had passed, and at the
account of the defense by the boys when their father was
lying insensible. Mrs. Hardy could not restrain herself
from sobbing in her husband's arms at the thought of
his fearful danger, while the girls cried sore and kissed
their brothers, and all their friends crowded round them
and wrung their hands warmly; while Terence sought
relief by going out into the garden, dancing a sort of
jig, and giving vent to a series of wild war-whoops.

152 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

It was some time before all were sufficiently calm to
listen to the remainder of the story, which was received
with renewed congratulations.

When it was all over a council was held, and it was
agreed that there was no chance whatever of the Indians
returning to renew the contest, as they would be helpless
on foot; but that if by a spy they found out that their
horses were there, they might endeavor to recover them.
It was therefore agreed that they should be driven
over at once to Mr. Percy's, there to remain until a pur-
chaser was obtained for them. In the afternoon the
party dispersed, with many thanks from the Hardys for
their prompt assistance*

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 153

CHAPTER XL

QUIET TIMES.

"AFTER a storm comes a calm :" a saying true in the
case of the Hardys, as in that of most others. All their
neighbors agreed that after the very severe loss of the
Indians, and the capture of the whole of their horses,
there was no chance whatever of another attack, at any
rate for many months. After that it was possible, and
indeed probable, that they would endeavor to take venge-
ance for their disastrous defeat; but that at present
they would be too crippled and disheartened to think
of it.

The settlers were now, therefore, able to give their
whole attention to the farm. The first operation was
the sheep-shearing. Four men had been hired to do the
shearing at Canterbury, and then to come over to Mount
Pleasant. Charley rode over to their neighbors' with
Mrs. Hardy and his sisters, Mr. Hardy and Hubert
remaining at home — the latter laid up with the wound in
his leg.

It was an amusing sight to see three or four hundred
sheep driven into an inclosure, and then dragged out by
the shearers. These men were paid according to the
number shorn, and were very expert, a good hand get-
ting through a hundred a day. They were rather rough,
though, in their work, and the girls soon went away from
the shearing-place with a feeling of pity and disgust, for
the shearers often cut the sheep badly. Each man had a

154 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

pot of tar by his side, with which he smeared over any
wound. A certain sum was stopped from their pay for
each sheep upon which they made a cut of over a certain
length; but although this made them careful to a certain
extent, they still wounded a great many of the poor
creatures.

A much more exciting amusement was seeing the
branding of the cattle, which took place after the
shearing was over. The animals were let out, one by
one, from their inclosure, and, as they passed along a
sort of lane formed of hurdles, they were lassoed and
thrown on to the ground. The hot branding-iron was
then clapped against their shoulder, and was received by
a roar of rage and pain. The lasso was then loosened,
and the animal went off at a gallop to join his companions
on the plain. Some caution was required in this process,
for sometimes the animals, upon being released, would
charge their tormenters, who then had to make a hasty
leap over the hurdles; Terence, who stood behind them,
being in readiness to thrust a goad against the animals'
rear, and this always had ^the effect of turning them.
For a few days after this the cattle were rather wild, but
they soon forgot their fright and pain, and returned to
their usual ways.

Mr. Hardy had by this time been long enough in the
country to feel sure of his position. He therefore deter-
mined to embark the rest of his capital in agricultural
operations. He engaged ten native peons, and set-to to
extend the land under tillage. The watercourses from
the dam were deepened and lengthened, and side chan-
nels cut, so that the work of irrigation could be effec-
tually carried on over the whole of the low-lying land,
the water being sufficient for the purpose for nearly tea
months in the year. Four plows were kept steadily at
work, and the ground was sown with alfalfa or lucera

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 155

as fast as it was got into condition. Patches of Indian
corn, pumpkins, and other vegetables were also planted.
Mr. Hardy resolved that until the country beyond him
became so settled that there could be little danger from
Indian incursions, he would not increase his stock of
sheep and cattle, but would each year sell off the
increase.

He also decided upon entering extensively upon dairy
operations. He had already ascertained that a ready
sale could be obtained, among the European residents of
Eosario and Buenos Ayres, of any amount of butter and
fresh cheese that he could produce, and that European
prices would be readily given for them. Up to the pres-
ent time the butter made had been obtained from the
milk of two cows only, but he now determined to try the
experiment upon a large scale.

A dairy was first to be made. This was partially cut
out of the side of the slope, and lined with sun-baked
bricks. Against the walls, which projected above the
ground, earth was piled, to make them of a very consid-
erable thickness. Strong beams were placed across the
roof; over these rafters was nailed felt, whitewashed upon
both sides to keep out insects. Upon this was placed a
considerable thickness of rushes, and, over all, puddled
clay was spread a foot deep. Ventilation was given by a
wide chimney rising behind it, and light entered by two-
windows in front. The whole of the interior was white-
washed.

In this way a dairy was obtained which, from the
thickness of its walls, was cool enough for the purpose
during the hottest weather. Preparations were now
made for breaking in the cows to be milked. A sort of
lane was made of two strong fences of iron wire. This
lane was of the shape of a funnel, narrowing at one end
to little more than the width of a cow. At the end of

158 OUT ON THE PAMPAS,

this was a gate, and attached to the gate a light trough^
filled with fresh alfalfa.

Half a dozen cows which had recently calved were now
separated from the herd, and driven into the wide end of
the inclosure. One by one they approached the narrow
end, and when one had reached the extremity, and had
begun to devour the alfalfa, of which they are very fond,
a bar was let down behind her, so that she could now
neither advance, retreat, nor turn round.

One of the boys now began cautiously and quietly to
milk her, and the cows in few cases offered any resist-
ance. One or two animals were, however, very obstrep-
erous, but were speedily subdued by having their legs
firmly fastened to the posts behind. In a few days all
were reconciled to the process, and ere long would come
in night and morning to be milked, with as much regu-
larity as English cows would have done.

The wives of the peons were now taught to milk; and
#iore and more cows were gradually added to the num-
ber, until in six months there were fifty cows in full
milk. Maud and Ethel had now no longer anything to
do with the house, Mrs. Hardy undertaking the entire
management of that department, while the girls had
charge of the fowl-house and dairy.

The milk was made partly into butter, partly into fresh
cheese. These were sent off once a week to catch the
steamer for Buenos Ayres. Mr. Hardy had a light cart
made for one horse, and by this conveyance the butter-
starting as soon as the sun went down — arrived in
Rosario in time for the early boat to the capital. It was
sent in large baskets made of rushes, and packed in
many layers of cool, fresh leaves; so that it arrived at
Buenos Ayres, forty hours after leaving Mount Pleasant,
perfectly fresh and good. The skim milk was given to
the pigs, who had already increased to quite a numerous
colony.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Although they had been planted less than a year, the
fruit trees round the house had thriven in a surprising
manner, and already bore a crop of fruit more than suffi-
cient for the utmost wants of the household. Peaches
and nectarines, apricots and plums, appeared at every
mean either fresh, stewed, or in puddings, and afforded
a very pleasant change and addition to their diet. As
Maud said one day, they would have been perfectly
happy had it not been for the frogs.

These animals were a very great nuisance. They liter-
ally swarmed- Do what they would, the Hardys could
not get rid of them. If they would but have kept out of
the house, no one would have minded them; indeed, as
they destroyed a good many insects, they would have
been welcome visitors in the garden; but this was just
what they would not do. The door always stood open,
and they evidently considered that as an invitation to
walk in. There they would hide behind boxes, or get
under beds, and into water-jugs and baths, and, in fact,
into every possible corner. They would even get into
boots; and these had always to be shaken before being
put on, in case frogs or insects should have taken up
their abode there.

It used at first to be quite a matter of difficulty to
know what to do with the frogs after they were caught;
but after a time a covered basket was kept outside the
door, and into this the frogs were popped, and taken
once a day and emptied into the stream. At first they
had got into the well, and had proved a great nuisance;
and they were only got rid of by nearly emptying the
well out with buckets, and by then building a wall round
its mouth, with a tightly-fitting lid.

Insects of all kinds were indeed a great pest, scorpions
being by no means uncommon,while large centipedes occa-
sionally intruded into the house. These creatures were

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

a great trouble to the girls in their dairy, for the froga
and toads would climb up the walls, and fall squash into
the milk-pans. The only way that they could be at all
kept out was by having the door sawn asunder three feet
from the ground, so that the lower half could be shub
while the girls were engaged inside. However, in spite
of the utmost pains, the little ones would crawl in
through crevices, or leap in at the window; and at last
the girls had to get wicker-work covers made for all the
pans; and as the natives are very skillful at this work,
they were thus enabled to keep the milk clean. Almost
as great a trouble as the frogs were the brocachas, who
committed terrible havoc in the garden and among the
crops. They are about the size, and have somewhat the
appearance of hares, and burrow in immense quantities
in the pampas. The only way to get rid of them was by
puffing the fumes of burning sulphur down into their
holes; and it was quite a part of the boys' regular work
to go out with the machine for the purpose, and to suffo-
cate these troublesome creatures. Their holes, however,
are not so dangerous to horsemen as are those of the
armadillos, as the ground is always bare in their neigh-
borhood.

The armadillos are of three or foujr species, all of them
small. The peludo is about a foot in length, and has
hair sticking out between his scales. The muletas are
smaller. Both are excellent eating; but the girls were
some time before they could bring themselves to touch
them. The matajo, in addition to the protection of his
scales, is able to roll himself into a ball at the approach
of danger, and, clothed in his impervious armor, is proof
against any attacks except those of man. These animals
are so common that the plain is in many cases quite
honeycombed with them.

The girls had a great scare the first time they came

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 159

an iguana, thinking that it was a crocodile.
These great lizards are about five feet long, and are
ferocious-looking, but very harmless unless attacked.
Then they will defend themselves, and can inflict a
sharp blow with their tails, or a severe bite with their
teeth. They are very common, and the Indians eat
them, and say that the meat is excellent; but the young
Hardys could never be persuaded to taste it. Thus mat-
ters proceeded for some time without any noteworthy
incident. Their- circle of acquaintances grew little by
little. Several neighboring plots had been taken up;
and although the new settlers had little time for making
visits, still the very fact of their presence near gave a
feeling of companionship and security. Very frequently
young men would arrive with letters of introduction, and
would stay a few days with them while they inspected
the country.

Their household, too, had received an increase. A
young Englishman named Fitzgerald, the son of some
very old friend of the Hardys, had written expressing a
very strong desire to come out, and asking their advice
in the matter. Several letters had been exchanged, and
at length, at Mr. Fitzgerald's earnest request, Mr.
Hardy agreed to receive his son for a year, to learn the
business of a pampas farmer, before he embarked upon
his own account. A small room was accordingly cleared
out for him, and Mr. Hardy never had any reason to
regret having received him. He was a pleasant, light-
hearted young fellow of about twenty years of age.

One change, however, had taken place which deserves
mention. Sarah one day came to her mistress, and with
much blushing and hesitation said that Terence Kelly
had asked her to marry him.

Mrs. Hardy had long suspected that an attachment
had sprung up between the Irishman and her servant, so

160 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

she only smiled and said, "Well, Sarah, and what did
you say to Terence? The year you agreed to stop with us
is over, so you are at liberty to do as you like, you
know."

"Oh, ma'am, but I don't want to leave you. That is
just what I told Terence. 'If master and mistress are
willing that I shall marry you and stay on with them as
before, I won't say no, Terence; but if they say that
they would not take a married servant, then Terence,
we must stay as we are.' '

"I have no objection at all, Sarah, and I think I can
answer for Mr. Hardy having none. Terence is a very
good, steady fellow, and I know that Mr. Hardy has a
high opinion of him; so you could not make a marriage
which would please us more. We should be very sorry
to lose you, but we could not in any case have opposed
you marrying whom you liked, and now we shall have
the satisfaction of keeping you here with us."

And so it was settled, and a fortnight afterward
Terence and Sarah had two days' holiday, and went
down to Buenos Ayres, where there was an English
church, and came back again man and wife. After that
each went back to work as usual, and the only change
was, that Terence now took his meals and lived in the
house instead of down in the men's huts. By this time
they had begun to find out which of the crops peculiar
to warm countries would pay, and which would not, or
rather — for they all paid more or less — which was the
most suitable.

The cotton crop had proved a success; the field had in
time been covered with cotton plants, which had burst
first into a bright yellow blossom, and had then been
covered with many balls of white fluff. The picking the
cotton had been looked upon at first as great fun, al-
though it had proved hard work before it was finished.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 161

Its weight had rather exceeded Mr. Hardy's anticipation.
The process of cleaning the cotton from the pods and
seeds had proved a long and troublesome operation, and
had taken an immense time. Judging by the progress
that they at first made with it, they really began to
despair of ever finishing it, but with practice they be-
came more adroit. Still it was found to be too great a
labor during the heat of the day, although carried on
within doors. It had been a dirty work too; the light par-
ticles of fluff had got everywhere, and at the end of a
couple of hours' work the party had looked like a family
of bakers. Indeed, before more than a quarter of the
quantity raised was cleaned they were heartily sick of
the job, and the remainder was sold in the pod to an
Englishman who had brought out machinery, and was
attempting to raise cotton near Buenos Ayres. Although
the profits had been considerable, it was unanimously de-
termined that the experiment should not be repeated, at
eny rate for the present.

Mr. Hardy had not at first carried out his idea of plant-
ing a couple of acres with tobacco and sngar-cane, the
ground having been required for other purposes. He
liad not, however abandoned the idea; and about two
months before the marriage of Terence and Sarah he
had planted some tobacco, which was, upon their return
from Buenos Ayres, ready to be picked.

The culture of tobacco requires considerable care. The
ground is first prepared with great care, and is well and
thoroughly manured; but this was not required in the
persent case, as the rich virgin soil needed no artificial
aid. It is then dug in beds something like asparagus
beds, about two feet wide, with a deep trench between
each. The seeds are raised in a seed-bed, and when nine
or ten inches high they are taken up and carefully
transplanted into the beds, two rows being placed in
each, and the plants being a foot apart.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

There are various methods of cultivation, but this was
the one adopted by Mr. Hardy. The plants grew rapidly,
the ground between them being occasionally hoed, and
kept free from weeds. When they were four feet high
the tops were nipped off, and any leaves which showed
signs of disease were removed. Each stem had from
eight to ten leaves. When the leaves began to turn
rather yellow, Mr. Hardy announced that the time for
cutting had arrived, and one morning all hands were
mustered to the work. It consisted merely in cutting
the stems at a level with the earth, and laying the plants
down gently upon the ground. By breakfast-time the
two acres were cleared. They were left all day to dry in
the sun, and a little before sunset they were taken up,
and carried up to one of the store-sheds, which had been
cleared and prepared for the purpose. Here they were
placed in a heap on the ground, covered over with raw
hides and mats, and left for three days to heat. After
this they were uncovered, and hung up on laths from the
roof, close to each other, and yet sufficiently far apart to
allow the air to circulate between them. Here they re-
mained until they were quite dry, and were then taken
down, a damp covering being chosen for the operation, as
otherwise the dry leaves would have crumbled to dust.
They were again laid in a heap, and covered up to allow
them to heat once more. This second heating required
some days to accomplish, and this operation required
great attention, as the tobacco would have been worth-
less if the plants had heated too much.

In ten days the operation was complete. The leaves
were then stripped off, the upper leaves were placed by
themselves, as also the middle and the lower leaves; the
higher ones being of the finest quality. They were then
tied in bundles of twelve leaves each, and were packed
in layers in barrels, a great pressure being applied with a

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 163

-weighted lever, to press them down into an almost solid
mass. In all they filled three barrels, the smallest of
which, containing sixty pounds of the finest tobacco,
Mr. Hardy kept for his own use and that of his friends;
the rest he sold at Buenos Ayres at a profitable rate.
The venture, like that of the cotton, had proved a suc-
cess, but the trouble and care required had been very
great, and Mr. Hardy determined in future to plant only
sufficient for his own use and that of the men employed
u£on the estate.

The next experiment which was perfected was that
with the sugar-cane. In this, far more than in the
others, Mrs. Hardy and the girls took a lively interest.
Sugar had been one of the few articles of consumption
which had cost money, and it had been used in consider-
able quantities for converting the fruit into fine pud-
dings and preserves. It was not contemplated to make
sugar for sale, but only for the supply of the house: two
acres, therefore, was the extent of the plantation. Mr.
Hardy procured the cuttings from a friend who had a
small sugar plantation near Buenos Ayres.

The cultivation Qf sugar is simple. The land having
been got in perfect order, deep furrows were plowed at a
distance of five feet apart. In these the cuttings, which
are pieces of the upper part of the cane, containing two
or three knots, were laid at a distance of three feet
apart. The plow was then taken along by the side of the
furrow, so as to fill it up again and cover the cuttings.
In sugar plantations the rows of canes are close together,
but Mr. Hardy had chosen this distance, as it enabled
his horse-hoe to work between them, and thus keep the
ground turned up and free from weeds, without the ex-
pense of hard labor. In a short time the shoots appeared
above the soil. In four months they had gained the
height of fourteen feet, and their glossy stems showed
that they were ready to cut.

164 OUT ON THE PAMPAS. *

"Now, Clara," Mr. Hardy said, "this is your manu-
facture, you know, and we are only to work under your
superintendence. The canes are ready to cut: how do
you intend to crush the juice out? because that is really
an important question."

The young Hardys looked aghast at each other, for in
the pressure of other matters the question of apparatus
for the sugar manufacture had been quite forgotten.

"Have you really no idea how to do it, Frank?"

"No, really I have not, my dear. We have certainly
no wood on the place which would make the rollers; be-
sides, it would be rather a difficult business."

Mrs. Hardy thought for a minute, and then said, "I
should think that the mangle would do it."

There was a general exclamation of "Capital, mamma!"
and then a burst of laughter at the idea of making sugar
with a mangle. The mangle in question was part of a
patent washing apparatus which Mr. Hardy had brought
with him from England, and consisted of two strong iron
rollers, kept together by strong springs, and turning with
a handle.

"I do think that the mangle would do, Clara," Mr.
Hardy said, "and we are all much obliged to you for the
idea. I had thought of the great washing copper for
boiling the sugar, but the mangle altogether escaped me.
"We will begin to-morrow. Please get all the tubs
scrubbed out and scalded, and put out in the sun to dry."

"How long will it take, papa?"

"Some days, Ethel; we must only cut the canes as fast
as the boiler can boil the juice down."

The next day the work began. The canes were cut at
a level with the ground, the tops were taken off, and the
canes cut into lengths of three feet. They were then
packed on a bullock cart and taken up to the house.
They were next passed through the mangle, which sue-

v OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 165

ceeded admirably, the juice flowing out in streams into
the tub placed below to receive it. When all the canes
had been passed through the mangle, the screws were
tightened to increase the pressure, and they were again
passed through; by which time, although the juice was
not so thoroughly extracted as it would have been by a
more powerful machine, the quantity that remained was
nft important. As the tub was filled the contents were
taken to the great copper, under which a fire was then
lighted. The crushing of the canes was continued until
the copper was nearly full, when Mr. Hardy ordered the
cutting of the canes to be discontinued for the day. The
fire under the copper was fed with the crushed canes,
which burned very freely. Mr. Hardy now added a
small quantity of lime and some sheep's blood, which
last ingredient caused many exclamations of horror from
Mrs. Hardy and the young ones. The blood, however,
Mr. Hardy informed them, was necessary to clarify the
sugar, as the albumen contained in the blood would rise
to the surface, bringing the impurities with it. The fire
was continued until the thermometer showed that the
syrup was within a few degrees of boiling, and the sur-
face was covered with a thick, dark-colored scum. The*
fire was then removed, and the liquor allowed to cool,
the family now going about other work, as so large *
quantity of liquor would not be really cold until the next
day.

The following morning the tap at the bottom of the
boiler was turned, and the syrup came out bright and
clear — about the color of sherry wine. The scum de-
scended unbroken on the surface of the liquor; and when
the copper was nearly empty the tap was closed, and the
scum and what little liquor remained was taken out.
The bright syrup was now again poured into the boiler,
the fire re-lighted, and the syrup was kept boiling, to

166 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

evaporate the water and condense the syrup down to the
point at which it would crystallize. It required many
hours' boiling to effect this, any scum which rose to the
surface being carefully taken off with a skimmer. At
last it was found that the syrup on the skimmer began
to crystallize, and Mr. Hardy pronounced it to be fit to
draw off into the large washing tubs to crystallize. A
fresh batch of canes was now crushed, and so the process
was repeated until all the canes were cut. It took a
fortnight altogether, but only five days of this were
actually occupied in cutting and crushing the canes. As
the sugar crystallized it was taken out — a dark, pulpy-
looking mass, at which the young Hardys looked very
doubtfully — and was [placed in a large sugar hogshead,
which had been procured for the purpose. In the bot-
tom of this eight large holes were bored, and these were
stopped up with pieces of plantain stalk. Through the
porous substance of these stalks the molasses or treacle
slowly drained off. As the wet sugar was placed in the
cask, layers of slices of plantain stems were laid upon it,
as the spongy substance draws the dark coloring matter
out from the sugar. The plantain grows freely in South
America, and Mr. Hardy had planted a number of this
graceful tree near his house; but these had not been ad-
vanced enough to cut, and he had therefore procured a
sufficient quantity from a friend at JRosario. It was
three months before the drainage of the molasses quite
ceased; and the Hardys were greatly pleased, on empty-
ing the hogshead and removing the plantain stems, to
find that their sugar was dry, and of a very fairly light
color. The sugar-canes did not require planting again,,
as they will grow for many years from the same roots;
and although the canes from old stools, as they are
called, produce less sugar than those of the first year's
planting, the juice is clearer, and requires far less trouble

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 167

to prepare and refine. Before another year came round
the boys made a pair of wooden rollers of eighteen inches
in diameter. These were covered with strips of hoop
iron, nailed lengthways upon them at short intervals
from each other, thereby obtaining a better grip upon
tlyv* canes, and preventing the wood from being bruised
and grooved. These rollers were worked by a horse mill,
which Mr. Hardy had ordered from England. It was
made for five horses, and did a great deal of useful, work,
grinding the Indian corn into fine flour for home con-
sumption and for sale to neighboring settlers, and into
coarse meal, and pulping the pumpkins and roots for the
pigs and other animals.

Mr. Hardy also tried many other experiments, as the
climate is suited to almost every kind of plant and vege-
table. Among them was the cultivation of ginger, of
the vanilla bean, of flax, hemp, and coffee. In all of
them he obtained more or less success; but the difficulty
of obtaining labor, and the necessity of devoting more
and more attention to the increasing flocks, herds, and
irrigated land, prevented him from carrying them out on
a large scale. However, they served the purpose for
which he principally undertook them — of giving objects
of interest and amusement to his children.

168 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER XII.

A STEADY HAND.

IT was now more than eighteen months since the
Hardys had been fairly established at Mount Pleasant.
A stranger who had passed along at the time the house
was first finished would certainly fail to recognize it
now. Then it was a bare, uninviting structure, looking,
as has been said, like a small dissenting chapel built on
the top of a gentle rise, without tree or shelter of any
kind. Now it appeared to rise from a mass of bright
green foliage, so rapidly had the trees grown, especially
the bananas and other tropical shrubs planted upon each
side of the house. At the foot of the slope were some
sixty or seventy acres of cultivated ground, while to the
right were three or four large and strong wire inclo-
sures, in which the milch cows, the cattle, the sheep,
and the pigs were severally driven at night.

Everything was prospering beyond Mr. Hardy's most
sanguine expectations. More and more land was monthly
being broken up and irrigated. Large profits had been
realized by buying lean cattle during the dry season, fat-
tening them upon alfalfa, and sending them down to
Kosario for sale. The pigs had multiplied astonishingly;
and the profits from the dairy were increasing daily, as
more cows were constantly added. The produce of
Mount Pleasant was so valued at both Rosario and Buenos
Ayres that the demand, at most remunerative prices, far
exceeded the supply. J

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 169

Additions had been made to the number of peons, and
the farm presented quite an animated appearance.

The two years which had elapsed since the Hardys left
England had effected a considerable change in their ap-
pfeance. Charley was now eighteen—a squarely-built,
sturdy young fellow. From his life of exposure in the
open air he looked older than he was. He had a strong
idea that he was now becoming a man; and Ethel had
one day detected him examining his cheeks very closely
in the glass, to see if there were any signs of whiskers.
It was a debated question in his own mind whether a
beard would or would not be becoming to him. Hubert
was nearly seventeen: he was taller and slighter than his
brother, but was younger both in appearance and man-
ners. He had all the restlessness of a boy, and lacked
somewhat of Charley's steady perseverance.

The elder brother was essentially of a practical dispo-
sition. He took a lively interest in the affairs of the
farm, and gave his whole mind to it. If he went out
shooting he did so to get game for the table. He en-
joyed the sport, and entered heartily into it, but he did
so in a business sort of way.

Hubert was a far more imaginative boy. He stuck
to the work of the farm as conscientiously as his brother
did, but his attention was by no means of the same con-
centrated kind. A new butterfly, an uncommon insect,
would be irresistible to him; and notunfrequently, when
he went out with his gun to procure some game which
Mr. Hardy had wanted upon the arrival of some unex-
pected visitor, he would come back in a high state of tri-
umph with some curious little bird, which he had shot
after a long chase, the requirements of the household
being altogether forgotten.

Maud was fifteen. Her constant out-of-door exercise
had made her as nimble and active as a young fawn. She

170 OUT °& THE PAMPAS.

loved to be out and about; and her two hours of lessons
•with her mamma in the afternoon were a grievous
penance to her.

Ethel wanted three months of fourteen, and looked
under twelve. She was quite the home-bird of the fam-
ily, and liked nothing better than taking her work and
sitting by the hour, quietly talking to her mother.

The time was now again approaching when the Indian
forays were to be expected. It was still a month earlier
than the attack of the year before, and Mr. Hardy, with
the increased number of his men, had not the least fear
of any successful assault upon Mount Pleasant; but he
resolved, when the time came, to take every possible pre-
caution against attacks upon the animals. He ordered
that the iron gates of the inclosures should be padlocked
at night, and that some of the native dogs should be
chained there as sentinels. He looked forward with some
little anxiety to the Indian moon, as it is called, because,
when he had ridden out with Lopez and two of their Can-
terbury friends to the scene of the encounter a few days
after it had taken place, they found that the Indians had
fled so precipitately upon the loss of their horses that
they had not even buried the bodies of their friends, and
that, short as the time had been, the foxes had left
nothing but a few bones remaining of these. From the
moccasins, however, and from other relics of the Indians
strewn about, Lopez had pronounced at once that two
tribes had been engaged in the fray: the one, inhabitants
of the pampas — a people which, although ready to mur-
der any solitary whites, seldom attack a prepared foe; and
the other, of Indians from the west, of a far more war-
like and courageous character. The former tribe, Lopez
affirmed — and the natives of the^country agreed with him
— would not of themselves have been likely to attempt a
fresh attack upon antagonists who had proved them-

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 171

selves so formidable, but the latter would be almost cer-
tain to make some desperate attempt to wipe off the dis-
grace of their defeat. Under these circumstances,
although perfectly confident of their power to beat off
any attack, it was resolved that every precaution should
"be taken when the time approached.

Late one afternoon, however, Mr. Fitzgerald had gone
out for a ride with Mr. Hardy. Charley had gone down
to the dam with his gun on his shoulder, and Hubert had
ridden to a pool in the river at some distance off, where
he had the day before observed a wild duck, which he be-
lieved to be a new sort. The cattle and flocks had just
been driven in by Lopez and two mounted peons at an
earlier hour than usual, as Mr. Hardy had that morning
given orders that the animals were all to be in their in-
closures before dusk. The laborers in the fields below
were still at work plowing. Ethel was in the sitting-
room working with Mrs. Hardy, while Maud was in the
garden picking some fruit for tea.

Presently the occupants of the parlor were startled by
a sharp cry from Maud, and in another instant she flew
into the room, rushed at a bound to the fireplace,
snatched down her light rifle from its hooks over the
mantel, and crying, "Quick, Ethel, your rifle !" was
gone again in an instant.

Mrs. Hardy and Ethel sprang to their feet, too sur-
prised for the moment to do anything, and then Mrs.
Hardy repeated Maud's words, "Quick, Ethel, your
rifle !"

Ethel seized it, and with her mother ran to the door.
Then they saw a sight which brought a scream from
both their lips. Mrs. Hardy fell on her knees and cov-
ered her eyes, while Ethel, after a moment's pause,
grasped the rifle, which had nearly fallen from her
hands, and ran forward, though her limbs trembled so
that they could scarcely carry her on.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

The sight was indeed a terrible one. At a distance of
two hundred yards Hubert was riding for his life. His
hat was off, his gun was gone, his face was deadly
pale. Behind him rode three Indians. The nearest one
was immediately behind him, at a distance of scarce two
horses' length; the other two were close to their leader.
All were evidently gaining upon him.

Maud had thrown the gate open, and stood by the post
with the barrel of her rifle resting on one of the wires.
"Steady, Ethel, steady," she said in a hard, strange
voice, as her sister joined her; "Hubert's life depends
upon your aim. Wait till I fire, and take the man on
the right. Aim at his chest."

The sound of Maud's steady voice acted like magic
upon her sister; the mist which had swum before her
eyes cleared off; her limbs ceased to tremble, and her
hand grew steady. Hubert was now within a hundred
yards, but the leading Indian was scarce a horse's length
behind. He had his tomahawk already in his hand, in
readiness for the fatal blow. Another twenty yards and
he whirled it round his head with a yell of exultation.

"Stoop, Hubert, stoop!" Maud cried in a loud, clear
voice; and mechanically, with the wild war-whoop behind
ringing in his ears, Hubert bent forward on to the horse's
mane. He could feel the breath of the Indian's horse
against his legs, and his heart seemed to stand still.

Maud and her rifle might have been taken for a statue,
so immovable and rigid did she stand; and then as the
Indian's arm went back for the blow, crack, and without
a word or a cry the Indian fell back, struck with the
deadly little bullet in the center of the forehead.

Not so silently did Ethel's bullet do its work. A wild
cry followed the report: for an instant the Indian reeled
in his saddle, and then, steadying himself, turned hia
horse sharp round, and with his companion galloped off.

Pampas.

HUBERT'S ESCAPE FROM THE INDIANS.— Page 172.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Hubert, as his horse passed through the gate and
drew up, almost fell from his seat; and it was with the
greatest difficulty that he staggered toward Maud, who
had gone off in a dead faint as she saw him ride on alone.

Ethel had sat down on the ground, and was crying
passionately, and Terence came running down from the
house with a gun in his hand, pouring out Irish threats
and ejaculations after the Indians. These were changed
into a shout of triumph as Charley stepped from behind
the henhouse, as they passed at a short distance, and at
the discharge of his double barrels the unwounded Indian,
fell heavily from his horse.

Anxious as he was to assist his young mistresses, for
Hubert was far too shaken to attempt to lift Maud from
the ground, Terence stood riveted to the spot watching
the remaining Indian. Twice he reeled in the saddle,
and twice recovered himself, but the third time, when
he was distant nearly half a mile, he suddenly fell off to
the ground.

* "I thought the murdering thief had got it," muttered
Terence to himself, as he ran down to raise Maud, and
with the assistance of Sarah to carry her up to the house,
against the doorway of which Mrs. Hardy was still lean-
ing, too agitated to trust herself to walk.

Hubert, now somewhat recovered, endeavored to
pacify Ethel, and the two walked slowly up toward the
house. In a minute or two Charley came running up,
and the peons were seen hurrying toward them. After a
silent shake of the hand to his brother, and a short
"Thank God!" Charley, with his accustomed energy,
took the command.

"Hubert, do you and Terence get all the arms loaded
at once. Lopez, tell the peons to hurry up the plow
oxen, shut them in the inclosure, and padlock all the
gates. I will "Warn you it there's any danger. Then

174 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

bring all the men and women up here. I am going to
run up the- danger flag. Papa is out somewhere on the
plains." So saying, and taking his Colt's carbine, he
ran up the stairs.

In a moment afterward his voice was heard again.
"Hubert, Terence, bring all the guns that are loaded up
here at once — quick, quick!" and then he shouted loudly
in Spanish, "Come in all; come in for your lives!" In
another minute they joined him on the tower with Mr.
Hardy's long rifle, Hubert's carbine, and their double-
barreled shotguns, into each of which Terence dropped
a bullet upon the top of the shot. Hubert could scarcely
help giving a cry. At a distance of a quarter of a mile
Mr. Hardy and Fitzgerald were coming along, pursued
.by at least a dozen Indians, who were thirty or forty
yards in their rear. They were approaching from behind
the house, and would have to make a sweep to get round
to the entrance, which was on the right, on the side fac-
ing the dam. This would evidently give their pursuers a
slight advantage.

"They hold their own," Charley said after a minute's
silence; "there is no fear. Lopez!" he shouted, "run
and see that the outside as well as the inside gates are
open."

It has been already said that a low wire fence had been
placed at a distance ;of a hundred yards beyond the
inner inclosure, to protect the young trees from the
animals. It was composed of two wires, only a foot
apart, and was almost hidden by the long grass. It had
a low gate, corresponding in position to the inner one.
Charley's quick eye saw at once the importance of the
position.

"I think you might use the long rifle now," Hubert
said; "it might stop them if they feel that they are in
reach of our guns."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 175

I

"No, no," Charley said, "I don't want to stop them;
don't show the end of a gun above the wall." Then he
was silent until his father was within three hundred
yards. He then shouted at the top of his voice, "Mind
the outside fence, mind the outside fence!"

Mr. Hardy raised a hand to show that he heard, and as
he approached, Charley shouted again, "Sweep well round
the fence, well round it, for them to try and cut you off."

Charley could see that Mr. Hardy heard, for he turned
his horse's head so as to go rather wide of the corner of
the fence. "Now, Hubert and Terence, get ready; we
shall have them directly."

Mr. Hardy and his companion galloped past, with the
Indians still fifty yards behind them. Keeping twenty
yards from the corner of the fence, the fugitives wheeled
round to the right, and the Indians, with a cry of exul-
tation, turned to the right also to cut them off. The
low treacherous wire was unnoticed, and in another mo-
ment men and horses were rolling in a confused mass
upon the ground.

"Now," Charley said, "every barrel we have;" and
from the top of the tower a rain of lead poured down
upon the bewildered Indians. The horses, frightened
and wounded, kicked and struggled dreadfully, and did
almost as much harm to their masters as the deadly bul-
lets of the whites; and when the fire ceased not more
than half of them regained their seats and galloped off,
leaving the rest, men and horses, in a ghastly heap.
Seeing them in full retreat, the occupants of the tower
descended to receive Mr. Hardy and Fitzgerald, Terence
much delighted at having at last had his share in a
skirmish.

"Well done, boys! Very well planned, Charley!" Mr.
Hardy said as he reined in his horse. "That was a near
escape."

176 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"Not as near a one as Hubert has had, by a long way,
papa."

"Indeed!" Mr. Hardy said anxiously. "Let me hear
all about it."

"We have not heard ourselves yet," Charley answered.
"It occurred only a few minutes before your own. The
girls behaved splendidly; but they are rather upset now.
If you will go up to the house to them, I will be up
directly, but there are a few things to see about first.
Lopez," he went on, "carry out what I told you before:
get the men in from the plows and see all secured. Tell
them to hurry, for it will be dark soon. Kill a couple
of sheep and bring them up to the house; we shall be a
large party, and it may be wanted. Then let the peons
all have supper. Come up to the house in an hour for
instructions. See yourself that the dogs are fastened
down by the cattle. Terence, take your place on the
lookout, and fire a gun if you see any one moving."

Having seen that his various orders were obeyed,
Charley went up to the house. He found the whole
party assembled in the sitting-room. Maud and Ethel
had quite recovered, although both looked pale. Mrs.
Hardy, absorbed in her attention to them, had fortu-
nately heard nothing of her husband's danger until the
firing from above, followed by a shout of triumph, told
her that any danger there was had been defeated.

"Now, papa," Charley said, "you give us your account
first."

"I have not much to tell, Charley. Fitzgerald and I
had ridden out some distance — five miles, I should say-
when the dogs stopped at a thicket and put out a lion.
Fitzgerald and I both fired with our left-hand barrels,
which were loaded with ball. The beast fell, and we got
off to skin him. Dash barked furiously, and we saw a
couple of dozen Indians coming up close to us. We

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

stopped a moment to give them our barrels with duck-
shot, and then jumped into our saddles and rode for it.
Unfortunately, we had been foolish enough to go out with-
out our revolvers. They pressed us hard, but I was never
in fear of their actually catching us; my only alarm was
that one of us might repeat my disaster of the armadillo
hole. So I only tried to hold my own thirty or forty
yards ahead. I made sure that one or other of you
would see us coming, and I should have shouted loudly
enough, I can tell you, to warn you as I came up. Be-
sides, I knew that at the worst the arms were hanging
above the fireplace, and that we only wanted time to run
in, catch them up, and get to the door, to be able to
defend the house till you could help us. And now, what
is your story, Charley?"

"I have even less than you, papa. I was down at the
dam, and then I went into the henhouse, and I was just
thinking that I could make a better arrangement for the
nests, when I heard an Indian war-yell between me and
the house. It was followed almost directly by two cracks
which I knew were the girls' rifles. I rushed to the door
and looked out, and I saw two Indians coming along at
full gallop. By the direction they were taking, they
would pass only a little way from the henhouse; so I
stepped back till I heard they were opposite, and then,
going out, I gave both barrels to the nearest to me, and
stopped his galloping about pretty effectually. When I
reached the place I saw that Hubert had had a narrow
squeak of it, for Maud had fainted, and Ethel was in a
great state of cry. But I had no time to ask many ques*
tions, for I ran up to hoist the danger flag, and then saw
you and Fitzgerald coming along with the Indians after
you. Now, Hubert, let's hear your story."

"Well, papa, you know I said yesterday that I was sure
that I had seen a new duck, and this afternoon I rode

130 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

out altogether, and probably they have resolved upon
vengeance for their last year's defeat. They had better
have left it alone, for they have no more chance of tak-
ing this house, with us all upon our guard, than they
have of flying. There is one advantage in it — they will
get such a lesson that I do think we shall be perfectly
free from Indian attacks for the future."

After tea Lopez came up for orders. "You will place,"
Mr. Hardy said, "two peons at each corner of the out-
side fence. One of us will come round every half -hour
to see that all is right. Their instructions are that in
case they hear any movement one is to come up to us
immediately with the news, and the other is to go round
to tell the other sentries to do the same. All this is to
be done in perfect silence. I do not want them to know
that we are ready for their reception. Bring some fresh
straw up and lay it down here on the floor: the women
can sleep here.''

"What shall I do about your own horses, signer?"
Lopez asked.

Mr. Hardy thought a moment. "I think you had bet-
ter send them down to the inclosure with the others;
they might be driven off if they are left up here, and I
do not see that we can require them."

"But what about the cattle, papa?" Charley asked.
"It would be a serious loss if they were driven off, espe-
cially the milch cows. If you like, I will go down with
Terence, and we can take up our station among them.
It would be a strong post, for the Indians of course could
not attack us on horseback; and with my carbine, and
Terence's gun, and a brace of revolvers, I think we could
beat them off easily enough, especially as you would
cover us with your guns."

"I had thought of that plan, Charley; but it would bo
dangerous, and would cause us up here great anxiety. I

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 181

imagine, too, that as no doubt their great object is venge-
ance, they will attack us first here, or they may make
an effort upon the cattle at the same time that they
attack here. They will not begin with the animals.
They will find it a very difficult business to break down
the fence, which they must do to drive them out; and
while they are about it we shall not be idle, depend
upon it."

The preparations were soon made, and it was agreed
that Mr. Hardy and Hubert should go the rounds alter-
nately with Charley and Fitzgerald. As a usual thing,
the Indian attacks take place in the last hour or two of
darkness. Mr. Hardy thought, however, that an excep-
tion would be made in the present case, in order that
they might get as far as possible away before any pursuit
took place. The wives of the peons lay down to sleep
on the straw which had been thrown down for them.
The men sat outside the door, smoking their cigarettes
and talking in low whispers. Mrs. Hardy was in her
room; Ethel kept her company, Maud dividing her time
between them and the top of the tower, where Mr.
Hardy, Fitzgerald, and the boys were assembled in the
intervals between going their rounds.

At about ten o'clock there was a sharp bark from one
of the dogs fastened up by the fold, followed up by a
general barking of all the dogs on the establishment.

"There they are," Mr. Hardy said. "Charley, bring
the mastiffs inside, and order them, and the retrievers
too, to be quiet. We do not want any noise up here, to
tell the Indians that we are on the watch. Now, Fitz-
gerald, you go to the sentries behind the house, and I
will go to those in front, to tell them to fall back at
once."

This mission was, however, unnecessary, for the eight
peons ail arrived in a minute or two, having fled from

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

their posts at the first barking of the dogs, and without
obeying their orders to send round to each other to give
notice of their retreat.

Mr. Hardy was very angry with them, but they were
in such abject fear of the Indians that they paid little
heed to their master's words, but went and huddled
themselves together upon the straw in the sitting-room,
remaining there without movement until all was over.
Terence was now recalled from the gate, which had been
his post.

"Did you hear anything, Terence?"

"Sure, your honor, and I thought I heard a dull
sound like a lot of horses galloping in the distance. I
should say that there were a great many of them. It
seemed to get a little louder, and then it stopped."

"That was before the dogs began to bark, Terence?"

4 ' About five minutes before, your honor."

"Yes. I have no doubt that they all dismounted to
make the attack on foot. How quiet everything is!"

The general barking of the dogs had now ceased:
sometimes one or another gave a suspicious yelping
bark, but between these no sound whatever was audible.
The door was now closed and barred; candles were
lighted and placed in every room, thick cloths having
been hung up before the loopholes in the shutters, to
prevent a ray of light from escaping; and the windows
themselves were opened. Mr. Fitzgerald, the boys, and
Maud took their station on the tower, Mr. Hardy re-
maining with his wife and Ethel, while Terence and
Lopez kept watch in the other apartments. The ar-
rangements for the defense were that Mr. Fitzgerald,
Lopez, and Terence should defend the lower part of the
house. There were in all six double-barreled guns-
two to each of them; and three of the peons more cour-
ageous than the others offered to load the guns as they
were discharged.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 183

Mr. Hardy and the boys had their place on the tower,
from which they commanded the whole garden. They
had the long rifle, the carbines, and four revolvers.
Mrs. Hardy and the girls took their place in the upper
room of the tower, where there was a light. Their rifles
were ready in case of necessity, but their principal duty
was to load the spare chambers of the carbines and
pistols as fast as they were emptied, the agreement be-
ing that the girls should go up by turns to take the
loaded ones and bring down the empties. Sarah's place
was her kitchen, where she could hear all that was going
on below, and she was to call up the ladder in case aid
•was required. And so, all being in readiness, they
calmly awaited the attack.

184 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE INDIAN ATTACK.

FOR nearly half an hour the occupants of the tower
remained without hearing the smallest sound. Then
there was a slight jarring noise.

"They are getting over the fence," Mr. Hardy whis-
pered. "Go down now every one to his station. Keep
the dogs quiet, and mind, let no one fire until I give the
signal."

Over and over again the clinking noise was repeated.
Cautious as the Indians were, it was impossible even for
them to get over that strange and difficult obstacle with-
out touching the wires with their arms. Occasionally
Mr. Hardy and the boys fancied that they could see dark
objects stealing toward the house through the gloom;
otherwise all was still.

"Boys," Mr. Hardy said, "I have changed my mind.
There will be numbers at the doors and windows, whom
we cannot get at from here. Steal quietly downstairs,
and take your position each at a window. Then, when
the signal is given, fire both your revolvers. Don't
throw away a shot. Darken all the rooms except the
kitchen. You will see better to take aim through the
loopholes; it will be quite light outside. When you have
emptied your revolvers, come straight up here, leaving
them for the girls to load as you pass."
L Without a word the boys slipped away. Mr. Hardy

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

tfoen placed on a round shelf nailed to the flagstaff, at
about eight feet from -the ground, a blue-light, fitting
into a socket on the shelf. The shelf was made just so
large that it threw a shadow over the top of the tower,
so that those standing there were in comparative dark-
ness, while everything around was in bright light.
There, with a match in his hand to light the blue-light,
he awaited the signal.

It was a long time coming— so long that the pause
grew painful, and every one in the house longed for the
bursting of the coming storm. At last it came. A wild,
long, savage yell from hundreds of throats rose on the
still night air, and, confident as they were in their posi-
tion, there was not one of the garrison but felt his blood
grow cold at the appalling ferocity of the cry. Simulta-
neously there was a tremendous rush at the doors and
windows, which tried the strength of frame and bar.
Then, as they stood firm, came a rain of blows with
hatchet and tomahawk.

Then came a momentary pause of astonishment. The
weapons, instead of splintering the wood, merely made
deep dents, or glided off harmlessly. Then the blows
redoubled, and then a bright light suddenly lit up the
whole scene. As it did so, from every loophole a stream
of fire poured out, repeated again and again. The guns,
heavily loaded with buckshot, told with terrible effect
upon the crowded mass of Indians around the windows,
and the discharge of the four barrels from each of the
three windows of the room at the back of the house, by
Fitzgerald, Lopez, and Terence, for awhile cleared the
assailants from that quarter. After the first yell of
astonishment and rage, a perfect quiet succeeded to the
din which had raged there, broken only by the ring of
the ramrods, as the three men and their assistants hastily
reloaded their guns, and then hurried to the front of the
house, where their presence was urgently required.

136 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Knowing the tremendous rush there would be at the
door, Charley and Hubert had posted themselves at its
two loopholes, leaving the windows to take care of
themselves for the present. The first rush was so tre-
mendous that the door trembled on its posts, massive as
it was; and the boys, thinking that it would come in,
threw the weight of their bodies against it. Then with
the failure of the first rush came the storm of blows;
and the boys stood with their pistols leveled through the
holes, waiting for the light which was to enable them to
see their foes.

As it came they fired together, and two Indians fell.
Again and again they fired, until not an Indian remained
standing opposite the fatal door. Then each took a win-
dow, for there was one at each side of the door, and
these they held, rushing occasionally into the rooms on
either side to check the assailants there.

In this fight Sarah had certainly the honor of first
blood. She was a courageous woman, and was deter-
mined to do her best in defense of the house. As an
appropriate weapon, she had placed the end of the spit
in the fire, and at the moment of the attack it was white-
hot. Seeing [the shutter bend with the pressure of the
Indians against it, she seized the spit, and plunged it
through the loophole with all her force. A fearful yell
followed, which rose even above the tremendous din
around.

There was a lull so profound after the discharge of
the last barrels of the boys' revolvers as to be almost
startling. Eunning upstairs, they fitted fresh chambers
to their weapons, left the empty ones with their sisters,
and joined their father.

"That's "right, boys; the attack is beaten off for the
present. Now take your carbines. There is a band of
Indians down by the animals. I heard their war-whoops

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 1ST

when the others began, but the light hardly reaches so
far. Now look out, I am going to send up a rocket over
them. The cows are the most important; so, Charley,
you direct all your shots at any party there. Hubert,
divide yours among the rest."

In another moment the rocket flew up into the air,
and as the bright light burst out a group of Indians
could be seen at the gateway of each of the inclosures.
As the brilliant light broke over them they scattered
with a cry of astonishment. Before the light faded the
twelve barrels had been fired among them.

As the rocket burst Mr. Hardy had gazed eagerly over
the country, and fancied that he could see a dark mass
at a distance of half a mile. This he guessed to be the
Indians' horses.

; By this time the blue-light was burning low, and Mr.
Hardy, stretching his hand up, lit another at its blaze,
and planted the fresh one down upon it. As he did so
a whizzing of numerous Jarrows showed that they were
watched. One wefct through his coat, fortunately with-
out touching him; another went right through his arm;
and a third laid Charley's cheek open from the lip to the
ear.

"Keep your heads below the wall, boys," their father
shouted. "Are you hurt, Charley?"

"Not seriously, papa, but it hurts awfully;" and
Charley stamped with rage and pain.

"What has become of the Indians round the house?"
Hubert asked. "They are making no fresh attack."

"No," Mr. Hardy said; "they have had enough of it.
They are only wondering how they are to get away.
You see the fence is exposed all round to our fire, for
the trees don't go within twenty yards of it. They are
neither in front nor behind the house, for it is pretty
open in both directions, and we should see them. They

183 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

are .not at this side of the house, so they must be stand-
ing close to the wall between the windows, and must be
crowded among the trees and shrubs at the other end.
There is no window there, so they are safe as long as
they stay quiet."

"No, papa," Hubert said eagerly; "don't you remem-
ber we left two loopholes in each room, when we built it,
on purpose, only putting in pieces of wood and filling up
the cracks with clay to keep out the wind?"

"Of course we did, Hubert. I remember all about it
now. Kun down and tell them to be ready to pull the
wood out and to fire through when they hear the next
rocket go off. I am going to send another light rocket
over in the direction where I saw the horses; and directly
I get the line I will send off cracker-rocket after cracker-
rocket as quickly as I can at them. What with the fire
from below among them, and the fright they will get
when they see the horses attacked, they are sure to make
a rush for it."

In a minute Hubert came back with the word that the
men below were ready. In a moment a rocket soared
far away to behind the house; and just as its light broke
over the plains another one swept over in the direction
of a dark mass of animals, seen plainly enough in the
distance.

A cry of dismay burst from th0 Indians, rising in yefc
wilder alarm as three shots were fired from the wall of
the house into their crowded mass. Again and again
was the discharge repeated, and with a yell of dismay a
wild rush was made for the fence. Then the boys with
their carbines, and Mr. Hardy with the revolvers, opened
upon them, every shot telling in the dense mass who
struggled to surmount the fatal railings.

Frenzied with the danger, dozens attempted to climb
them, and, strong as were the wires and posts, there waa

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 189

a cracking sound, and the whole side fell. In another
minute, of the struggling mass there remained only
some twenty motionless forms. Three or four more
rockets were sent off in the direction where the horses
had been seen, and then another signal rocket, whose
light enabled them to see that the black mass was broken
np, and that the whole plain was covered with scattered
figures of men and animals, all flying at the top of their
speed.

"Thank God, it is all over, and we are safe!" Mr.
Hardy said solemnly. "Never again will an Indian
attack be made upon Mount Pleasant. It is all over
now, my dear," he said to Mrs. Hardy as he went
down the stairs; "they are off all over the country,
and it will take them hours to get their horses
together again. Two of us have got scratched with
arrows, but no real harm is done. Charley's is only a
flesh wound. Don't be frightened," he added quickly,
as Mrs. Hardy turned pale and the girls gave a cry at
the appearance of Charley's face, which was certainly
alarming. "A little warm water and a bandage will put
it all right."

"Do you think it will leave a scar?" Charley asked
rather dolorously.

"Well, Charley, I should not be surprised if it does;
but it won't spoil your beauty long, your whiskers will
cover it: besides, a scar won in honorable conflict is
always admired by ladies, you know. Now let us go
downstairs; my arm, too, wants bandaging, for it is be-
ginning to smart amazingly; and I am sure we all must
want something to eat."

The supper was eaten hurriedly, and then all but
Terence, who, as a measure of precaution, was -stationed
as watchman on the tower, were glad to lie down for
a few hours' sleep. At daybreak they were up and
moving.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Mr.Hardy requested that neither his wife nor daughters
should go outside the house until the dead Indians were
removed and buried, as the sight could not but be a most
shocking one. Two of the peons were ordered to put in
the oxen and bring up two carts, and the rest of the
men set about the unpleasant duty of examining and
collecting the slain.

These were even more numerous than Mr. Hardy had
anticipated, and showed how thickly they must have
been clustered round the door and windows. The guns
had been loaded with buckshot; two bullets he dropped
down each barrel in addition; and the discharge of these
had been most destructive, more especially those fired
through the loopholes at the end of the house. There
no less than sixteen bodies were found, while around the
door and windows were thirteen others. All these were
dead. The guns, having been discharged through loop-
holes breast-high, had taken effect upon the head and
body.

At the fence were fourteen. Of these twelve were
dead, another still breathed, but was evidently dying,
while one had only a broken leg. Unquestionably sev-
eral others had been wounded, but had managed to make
off. The bullets of revolvers, unless striking a mortal
point, disable a wounded man much less than the balls
of heavier caliber. It was evidently useless to remove
the Indian who was dying; all that could be done for
him was to give him a little water, and to place a bundle
of grass so as to raise his head. Half an hour later he
was dead. The other wounded man was carried care-
fully down to one of the sheds, where a rbed of hay was
prepared for him. Two more wounded men were found
down by the cattle inclosures, and these also Mr. Hardy
considered likely to recover. They were taken up and
laid by their comrade. Three dead bodies were found

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 191

here. These were all taken in the bullock carts to a
spot distant nearly half a mile from the house.

Here, by the united labor of the peons, a large grave
was dug, six feet wide, as much deep, and twelve yards
long. In this they were laid side by side, two deep; the
earth was filled in, and the turf replaced. At Hubert's
suggestion, two young palm trees were taken out of the
garden and placed one at each end, and a wire fence was
erected all round, to keep off the animals.

It was a sad task; and although they had been killed
in an attack in which, had they been victorious, they
would have shown no mercy, still Mr. Hardy and his
sons were deeply grieved at having caused the destruc-
tion of so many lives.

It was late in the afternoon before all was done, and
the party returned to the house with lightened hearts,
that the painful task was finished. Here things had
nearly resumed their ordinary aspect. Terence had
washed away the stains of blood; and save that many of
the young trees had been broken down, and that one
side of the fence was leveled, no one would have imag-
ined that a sanguinary contest had taken place there so
lately.

Mr. Hardy stopped on the way to examine the wounded
men. He had acquired a slight knowledge of rough
surgery in his early life upon the prairies, and he dis-
covered the bullet at a short distance under the skin in
the broken leg. Making signs to the man that he was
going to do him good, and calling in Fitzgerald and
Lopez to hold the Indian if necessary, he took out his
knife, cut down to the bullet, and with some trouble
succeeded in extracting it. The Indian never flinched or
groaned, although the pain must have been very great
while the operation was being performed. Mr. Hardy
then carefully bandaged the limb, and directed that

192 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

cold water should be poured over it from time to time,
to allay the inflammation. Another of the Indiana had
his ankle-joint broken: this was also carefully bandaged.
The third had a bullet wound near the hip, and with
this Mr. Hardy could do nothing. His recovery or
death would depend entirely upon nature.

It may here be mentioned at once that all three of the
Indians eventually recovered, although two of them
were slightly lamed for life. All that care and attention
could do for them was done; and when they were in a
fit condition to travel their horses and a supply of provi-
sions were given to them. The Indians had maintained
during the whole time the stolid apathy of their race.
They had expressed no thanks for the kindness bestowed
upon them. Only when their horses were presented to
them, and bows and arrows placed in their hands, with
an intimation that they were free to go, did their coun-
tenances change.

Up to that time it is probable that they believed that
they were only being kept to be solemnly put to death.
Their faces lit up, and without a word they sprang on,
to the horses' backs, and dashed over the plains.

Ere they had gone three hundred yards they halted,
and came back at equal speed, stopping abruptly before
the surprised and rather startled group. "Good man,"
the eldest of them said, pointing to Mr. Hardy.
"Good," he repeated, motioning to the boys. "Good
misses," and he included Mrs. Hardy and the girls; and
then the three turned and never slackened their speed as
long as they were in sight.

The Indians of the South American pampas and
sierras are a very inferior race to the noble-looking
Comanches and Apaches of the North American prairies.
They are generally short, wiry men, with long black
hair. They have flat faces, with high cheek bones.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 193

Their complexion is a dark copper color, and they are
generally extremely ugly.

In the course of the morning after the fight Mr.
Cooper rode over from Canterbury, and was greatly sur-
prised to hear of the attack. The Indians had not been
seen or heard of at his estate, and he was ignorant of
anything having taken place until his arrival.

For the next few days there was quite a levee of vis-
itors, who came over to hear of the particulars, and to
offer their congratulations. All the outlying settlers
were particularly pleased, as it was considered certain
that the Indians would not visit that neighborhood again
for some time.

Shortly afterward the government sales for the land
beyond Mount Pleasant took place. Mr. Hardy went over
to Eosario to attend them, and bought the plot of four
square leagues immediately adjoining his own, giving
the same price that he had paid for Mount Pleasant. The
properties on each side of this were purchased by the two
Edwards, and by an Englishman who had lately arrived
in the colony. His name was Mercer: he was accom-
panied by his wife and two young children, and his
wife's brother, whose name was Parkinson. Mr. Hardy
had made their acquaintance at Rosario, and pronounced
them to be a very pleasant family. They had brought
out a considerable capital, and were coming in a week
with a strong force to erect their house. Mr. Hardy
had promised them every assistance, and had invited
Mrs. Mercer to take up her abode at Mount Pleasant
with her children, until the frame house which they had
brought out could be erected — an invitation which had
been gladly accepted.

There was great pleasure at the thought of another
lady in the neighborhood; and Mrs. Hardy was especially
pleased for the girls' sake, as she thought that a littia
female society would be of .very great advantage to them.

194 OUT °H THE

The plots of land next to the Mercers and Edwards
•were bought, the one by three or four Germans working
as a company together, the other by Don Martinez, an
enterprising young Spaniard; so that the Hardys began
to be in quite an inhabited country. It is true that
most of the houses would be six miles off; but that is
close, on the pampas. There was a talk, too, of the
native overseer of the land between Canterbury and the
Jamiesons selling his ground in plots of a mile square.
This would make the country comparatively thickly
populated. Indeed, with the exception of Mr. Mercer,
who had taken up a four-league plot, the other new set-
tlers had in no case purchased more than a square league.
The settlements would therefore be pretty thick together.

In a few days Mrs. Mercer arrived with her children.
The boys gave up their room to her— they themselves,
with Mr. Fitzgerald and four peons, accompanying Mr.
Mercer and the party he had brought with him, to assist
in erecting his house, and in putting up a strong wire
fence, similar to their own, for defense. This operation
was finished in a week; and Mrs. Mercer, to the regret
of Mrs. Hardy and the girls, then joined her husband.
The house had been built near the northeast corner of
the property. It was therefore little more than six
miles distant from Mount Pleasant, and a constant in-
terchange of visits was arranged to take place.

Shortly afterward Mr. Hardy suggested that the time
had now come for improving the house, and laid before
his assembled family his plans for so doing, which were
received with great applause.

The new portion was to stand in front of the old, and
was to consist of a wide entrance-hall, with a large din-
ing and drawing-room upon either side. Upon the floor
above were to be four bedrooms. The old sitting-room
was to be made into the kitchen, and was to be lighted

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 195

by a skylight in the roof. The present kitchen was to
become a laundry, the windows of that and the bedroom
opposite being placed in the side walls, instead of being
in front. The new portion was to be made of properly
baked bricks, and was to be surrounded by a wide
veranda. Of the present bedrooms, two were to be used
as spare rooms, one of the others being devoted to two
additional indoor servants whom it was now proposed to
keep.

It was arranged that the carts should at once com-
mence going backward and forward to Rosario, to fetch
coal for the brickmaking, tiles, wood, etc., and that an
experienced brickmaker should be engaged, all the
hands at the farm being fully occupied. It would take
a month or six weeks, it was calculated, before all would
be ready to begin building; and then Mrs. Hardy and
the girls were to start for a long promised visit to their
friends the Thompsons, near 'Buenos Ayres, so as to be
away during the mess and confusion of the building.
An engagement was made on the following week with
two Italian women at Rosario, the one as a cook, the
other as general servant, Sarah undertaking the manage-
ment of the dairy during her mistress' absence.

3L9S OUT ON THE PAMP&&

CHAPTER XIV.

TERRIBLE NEWS.

ANOTHER two years passed over, bringing increased
prosperity to the Hardys. No renewal of the Indian
attacks had occurred, and in consequence an increased
flow of emigration had taken place in their neighbor-
hood. Settlers were now established upon all the lots
for many miles upon either side of Mount Pleasant; and
even beyond the twelve miles which the estate stretched
to the south the lots had been sold. Mr. Hardy con-
sidered that all danger of the flocks and herds being
driven off had now ceased, and had therefore added con-
siderably to their numbers, and had determined to allow
them to increase without further sales until they had
attained to the extent of the supporting power of the
immense estate.

Two hundred acres of irrigated land were under culti-
vation; the dairy contained the produce of a hundred
cows; and altogether Mount Pleasant was considered
one of the finest and most profitable estancias in the
province.

The house was now worthy of the estate; the inside
fence had been removed fifty yards further off, and the
vegetable garden to a greater distance, the inclosed
space being laid out entirely as a pleasure garden.

Beautiful tropical trees and shrubs, gorgeous patches
of flowers, and green turf surrounded the front and

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 19?

Sides; while behind was a luxuriant and most produc-
tive orchard.

The young Hardys had for some time given up doing
any personal labor, and were incessantly occupied in the
supervision of the estate and of the numerous hands em-
ployed: for them a long range of adobe huts had been
built at some little distance in the rear of the inclosure.

Maud and Ethel had during this period devoted much
more time to their studies, and the time was approaching
when Mrs. Hardy was to return with them to England,
in order that they might pass a year in London under
the instruction of the best masters. Maud was now
seventeen, and could fairly claim to be looked upon as a
young woman. Ethel still looked very much younger
than her real age: any one, indeed, would have guessed
that there was at least three years' difference between
the sisters. In point of acquirements, however, she waa
quite her equal, her much greater perseverance more
than making up for her sister's quickness.

A year previously Mr. Hardy had, at one of his visits
to Buenos Ayres, purchased a piano, saying nothing of
what he had done upon his return; and the delight of
the girls and their mother, when the instrument arrived
in a bullock cart, was unbounded. From that time the
girls practiced almost incessantly; indeed, as Charley
remarked, it was as bad as living in the house with a
whole boarding-school of girls.

After this Mpunt Pleasant, which had always been
considered as the most hospitable and pleasant estancia
in the district, became more than ever popular, and many
were the impromptu dances got up. Sometimes there
were more formal affairs, and all the ladies within twenty
miles would come in. These were more numerous than
would have been expected. The Jamiesons were doing
well, and in turn going for a visit to their native country,

298 OVT ON THE PAMPAS.

liad brought out two bright young Scotchwomen as
their wives.

Mrs. Mercer was sure to be there, and four or five
other English ladies from nearer or more distant estancias.
Some ten or twelve native ladies, wives or daughters of
native proprietors, would also come in, and the dancing
would be kept up until a very late hour. Then the ladies
would lie down for a short time, all the beds being given up
to them, and a number of shake-downs improvised; while
the gentlemen would sit and smoke for an hour or two,
and then, as day broke, go down for a bathe in the river.
These parties were looked upon by all as most enjoyable
affairs; and as eatables of all sorts were provided by the
estate itself, they were a very slight expense, and were
of frequent occurrence. Only one thing Mr. Hardy bar-
gained for — no wines or other expensive liquors were to
be drunk. He was doing well — far, indeed, beyond his
utmost expectation— but at the same time he did not con-
sider himself justified in spending money upon luxuries.

Tea, therefore, and cooling drinks made from fruits,
after the custom of the country, were provided in abun-
dance for the dancers; but wine was not produced. With
this proviso, Mr. Hardy had no objection to his young
people having their dances frequently; and in a country
where all were living in a rough way, and wine was an
unknown luxury, no one missed it. In other respects the
supper tables might have been admired at an English ball.
Of substantiate there was abundance— turkeys and fowls,
wild duck and other game. The sweets were represented
by trifle, creams, and blanc-manges; while there was a
superb show of fruit— apricots, peaches, nectarines, pine-
apples, melons, and grapes. Among them were vases of
gorgeous flowers, most of them tropical in character, but
with them were many old English friends, of which Mr.
Hardy had procured seeds.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 199

Their neighbors at Canterbury were still their most
intimate friends: they were shortly, however, to lose one
of them. Mr. Cooper had heard six months before of
the death of his two elder brothers in rapid succession,
and he was now heir to his father's property, which was
very extensive. It had been supposed that he would at
once return to England, and he was continually talking of
doing so; but he had, under one excuse or other, put off
his departure from time to time. He was very frequently
over at Mount Pleasant and was generally a companion
of the boys upon their excursions.

"I think Cooper is almost as much here as he is at Can-
terbury," Charley said, laughing, one day.

Mrs. Hardy happened to glance at Maud, and noticed
a bright flush of color on her cheeks. She made no re-
mark at the time, but spoke to Mr. Hardy about it at
night.

"You see, my dear," she concluded, "we are still con-
sidering Maud as a child, but other people may look upon
her as a woman."

"I am sorry for this," Mr. Hardy said after a pause.
"We ought to have foreseen the possibility of such a thing.
Now that it is mentioned, I wonder we did not do so be-
fore. Mr. Cooper has been here so much that the thing
would have certainly struck us, had we not, as you say,
looked upon Maud as a child. Against Mr. Cooper I
have nothing to say. We both like him extremely. Hia
principles are good, and he would, in point of money, be
of course an excellent match for our little girl. At the
same time, I cannot permit anything like an engagement.
Mr. Cooper has seen no other ladies for so long a time that
it is natural enough he should fall in love with Maud.
Maud, on the other hand, has only seen the fifteen or
twenty men who came here; she knows nothing of the
world and is altogether inexperienced. They are both

OUT ON THE PAMPAS,

going to England, and may not improbably meet people
whom they may like very much better, and may look upon
this love-making in the pampas as a folly. At the end of
another two years, when Maud is nineteen, if Mr. Cooper
renew the acquaintance in England, and both parties
agree, I shall of course offer no objection, and indeed
should rejoice much at a match which would promise
well for her happiness."

Mrs. Hardy thoroughly agreed with her husband, and
so the matter rested for a short time.

It was well that Mr. Hardy had been warned by his
wife, for a week after this Mr. Cooper met him alone
when he was out riding, and after some introduction,
expressed to him that he had long felt that he had loved
his daughter, but had waited until she was seventeen
before expressing his wishes. He said that he had
delayed his departure for England on this account alone,
and now asked permission to pay his addresses to
her, adding that he hoped that he was not altogether
indifferent to her.

Mr. Hardy heard him quietly to the end.

"I can hardly say that I am unprepared for what you
say, Mr. Cooper, although I had never thought of such a
thing until two days since. Then your long delay here,
and your frequent visits to our house, opened the eyes of
Mrs. Hardy and myself. To yourself, personally, I can
entertain no objection. Still, when I remember that you
are only twenty-six, and that for the last four years you
have seen no one with whom you could possibly fall in
love, with the exception of my daughter, I can hardly
think that you have had sufficient opportunity to know
your own mind. When you return to England you will
meet young ladies very much prettier and very much
more accomplished than my Maud, and you may regret
the haste which led you to form an engagement out here.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 201

You shake your head, as is natural that you should do;
but I repeat, you cannot at present know your own mind.
If this is true of you, it is still more true of my daughter.
She is very young, and knows nothing whatever of the
world. Next month she proceeds to England with her
mother, and for the next two years she will be engaged
upon finishing her education. At the end of that time I
shall myself return to England, and we shall then enter
into society. If at that time you are still of the same way
of thinking, and choose to renew our acquaintance, I shall
be very happy, in the event of Maud accepting you, to
give my consent. But I must insist that there shall be
no engagement, no love-making, no understanding of any
sort or kind, before you start. I put it to your honor as
a gentleman, that you will make no effort to meet her
alone, and that you will say nothing whatever to her, to
lead her to believe that you are in love with her. Only
when you say good-by to her, you may say that I have
told you that as the next two years are to be passed in
study, to make up for past deficiencies, I do not wish her
to enter at all into society, but that at the end of that
time you hope to renew the aquaintance.?J

Mr. Cooper endeavored in vain to alter Mr. Hardy's de-
termination, and was at last obliged to give the required
promise.

Mr. and Mrs. Hardy were not surprised when, two or
three days after this, Mr. Cooper rode up and said that
he had come to say good-by, that he had received letters
urging him to return at once, and had therefore made up
his mind to start by the next mail from Buenos Ayres.

The young Hardys were all surprised at this sudden
determination, but there was little time to discuss it, as-
Mr. Cooper had to start the same night for Eosario.

Very warm and earnest were the adieus; and the color^
which had rather left Maud's face, returned with re-

ON THE PAMPAS.

doubled force as he held her hand, and said very earnestly
the words Mr. Hardy had permitted him to use.

Then he leaped into his saddle and galloped off, waving
his hand, as he crossed the river, to the group which
were still standing in the veranda watching him.

For a few days after this Maud was unusually quiet
and subdued, but her natural spirits speedily recovered
themselves, and she was soon as lively and gay as ever.

About a fortnight after the departure of Mr. Cooper
an event took place which for awhile threatened to
upset all the plans which they had formed for the future.

One or other of the girls were in the habit of fre-
quently going over to stay for a day or two with Mrs.
Mercer.

One evening Hubert rode over with Ethel, and Mrs.
Mercer persuaded the latter to stay for the night;
Hubert declining to do so, as he had arranged with
Charley to go over early to Canterbury to assist at the
branding of the cattle at that station.

In the morning they had taken their coffee, and were
preparing for a start, when, just as they were mounting
their horses, one of the men drew their attention to a
man running at full speed toward the house from the
direction of Mr. Mercer's.

"What can be the matter?" Charley said. "What a
strange thing that a messenger should come over on foot
instead of on horseback!"

"Let's ride and meet him, Charley," Hubert said;
and putting spurs to their horses, they galloped toward
the approaching figure.

As they came close to him he stumbled and fell, and
lay upon the ground, exhausted and unable to rise.

The boys sprang from their horses with a feeling of
vague uneasiness and alarm.

"What is the matter?" they asked.

OUT ON TEE PAMPAS. 203

i

The peon was too exhausted to reply for a moment or
two; then he gasped out, "Los Indies! the Indians!"

The boys gave a simultaneous cry of dread.

"What has happened? Tell us quick, man; are they
attacking the estancia?" The man shook his head.

"Estancia burnt. All killed but me," he said.

The news was too sudden and terrible for the boys to
speak. They stood white and motionless with horror.

"All killed! Oh, Ethel, Ethel!" Charley groaned.

Hubert burst into tears. "What will mamma do?"

"Come, Hubert," Charley said, dashing away the
tears from his eyes, "do not let us waste a moment. All
hope may not be over. The Indians seldom kill women,
but carry them away, and she may be alive yet. If she
is, we will rescue her, if we go right across America.
Come, man, jump up behind me on my horse."

The peon obeyed the order, and in five minutes they
reached the gate. Here they dismounted.

"Let us walk up to the house, Hubert, so as not to
excite suspicion. We must call papa out and tell him
first, so that he may break it to mamma. If she learn
it suddenly, it may kill her."

Mr. Hardy had just taken his coffee, and was stand-
ing at the door, looking with a pleased eye upon the
signs of comfort and prosperity around him. There was
no need, therefore, for them to approach nearer. As
Mr. Hardy looked round upon hearing the gate shut,
Charley beckoned to him to come down to them. For a
moment he seemed puzzled, and looked round to see if
the signal was directed to himself. Seeing that no one
else was near him, he again looked at the boys, and
Charley earnestly repeated the gesture.

Mr. Hardy, feeling that something strange was hap-
pening, ran down the steps and hurried toward them.

By the time he reached them, he had no need to ask

204 OUT OF THE PAMPAS.

questions. Hubert was leaning upon the gate, crying as
if his heart would break; Charley stood with his hand on
his lips, as if to check the sobs from breaking out, while
the tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Ethel?" Mr. Hardy asked.

Charley nodded, and then said, with a great effort,
"The Indians have burned the estancia; one of the men
has escaped and brought the news. We know nothing
more. Perhaps she is carried off, not killed."

Mr. Hardy staggered under the sudden blow. "Car-
ried off !" he murmured to himself. "It is worse than
death."

"Yes, papa," Charley said, anxious to give his father's
thoughts a new turn. "But we will rescue her, if she is
alive, wherever they may take her."

"We will, Charley; we will, my boys," Mr. Hardy said
earnestly, and rousing himself at the thought. "I must
go up and break it to your mother; though how I shall
do so, I know not. Do you give what orders you like
for collecting our friends. First, though, let us ques-
tion this man. When was it?"

"Last night, signor, at eleven o'clock. I had just
lain down in my hut, and I noticed that there were still
lights downstairs at the house, when, all of a sudden, I
heard a yell as of a thousand fiends, and I knew the
Indians were upon us. I knew that it was too late to
fly, but I threw myself out of the window, and lay flat
by the wall, as the Indians burst in. There were eight
of us, and I closed my ears to shut out the sound of the
others' cries. Up at the house, too, I could hear
screams and some pistol shots, and then more screams
and cries. The Indians were all round, everywhere, and
I dreaded lest one of them should stumble up against
me. Then a sudden glare shot up, and I knew they
were firing the house. The light would have shown me

Pampas, ETHEL'S CAPTURE BY THE INDIANS.— Page 204.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 205

clearly enough, had I remained where I was; so I
crawled on my stomach till I came to some potato
ground a few yards off. As I lay between the rows, the
plants covered me completely. In another minute or
two the men's huts were set fire to, and then I could
hear a great tramping, as of horses and cattle going
away in the distance. They had not all gone, for I
could hear voices all night, and Indians were moving
about everywhere, in search of any one who might have
escaped. They came close to me several times, and I
feared that they would tread on me. After a time all
became quiet; but I dared not move till daylight.
Then, looking about carefully, I could see no one, and
I jumped up, and never stopped running until you met
me."

Mr. Hardy now went up to the house to break the sad
tidings to his wife. Charley ordered eight peons to sad-
dle horses instantly, and while they were doing so he
wrote on eight leaves of his pocketbook: "The Mercers'
house destroyed last night by Indians; the Mercers killed
or carried off. My sister Ethel with them. For God's
sake, join us to recover them. Meet at Mercer's as soon
as possible. Send this note round to all neighbors."

One of these slips of paper was given to each peon,
and they were told to ride for their lives in different
directions, for that Miss Ethel was carried off by the
Indians.

This was the first intimation of the tidings that had
arrived, and a perfect choras of lamentation arose from
the women, and of execrations of rage from the men.
Just at this moment Terence came running down from
the house. "Is it true, Mister Charles? Sarah says
that the mistress and Miss Maud are gone quite out of
their minds, and that Miss Ethel has been killed by the
Indians!"

206 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"Killed or carried away, Terence; we do not know
-which, yet."

Terence was a warm-hearted fellow, and he set up a
yell of lamentation which drowned the sobs and curses
of the natives.

"Hush, Terence," Charley said. "We shall have time
to cry for her afterward; we must be doing now."

"I will, Mister Charles; but you will let me go with
you to search for her. Won't you, now, Mister Charles?"

"Yes, Terence; I will take you with us, and leave
Lopez in charge. Send him here."

Lopez was close. He, too, was really affected at the
loss of his young mistress; for Ethel, by her unvarying
sweetness of temper, was a favorite with every one.

"Lopez, you will remain here in charge. We may be
away two days — we may be away twenty. I know I can
trust you to look after the place just as if we were here."

The capitaz bowed with his hand on his heart. Even
the peasants of South America preserve the grand man-
ner and graceful carriage of their Spanish ancestors.
"And now, Lopez, do you know of any of the Guachos
in this part of the country who have ever lived with the
Indians, and know their country at all?"

"Martinez, one of the shepherds at Canterbury, Signor
Charles, was with them for seven months; and Perez,
one of Signor Jamieson's men, was longer still."

Charles at once wrote notes asking that Perez and
Martinez might accompany the expedition, and dis-
patched them by mounted peons.

"And now, Lopez, what amount of charqm have we
in store?"

"A good stock, signor; enough for fifty men for a
fortnight."

Charqui is meat dried in the sun. In hot climates
meat cannot be kept for many hours in its natural state.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 20?

"When a bullock is killed, therefore, all the meat which is
not required for immediate use is cut up into thin strips,
and hung up in the sun to dry. After this process it is
hard and strong, and by no means palatable; but it will
keep for many months, and is the general food of the
people. In large establishments it is usual to kill sev-
eral animals at once, so as to lay in sufficient store of
charqui to last for some time.

"Terence, go up to the house and see what biscuit
there is. Lopez, get our horses saddled, and one for
Terence — a good one — and give them a feed of maize.
Now, Hubert, let us go up to the house, and get our
carbines and pistols."

Mr. Hardy came out to meet them as they approached.
"How are mamma and Maud, papa?"

"More quiet and composed now, boys. They have
both gone to lie down. Maud wanted sadly to go with
us, but she gave way directly I pointed out to her that
her duty was to remain here by her mother's side. And
now, Charley, what arrangements have you made?"

Charley told his father what he had done.

"That is right. And now we will be off at once.
Give Terence orders to bring on the meat and biscuit
in an hour's time. Let him load a couple of horses,
and bring a man with him to bring them back."

"Shall we bring any rockets, papa?"

"It is not likely that they will be of any use, Hubert;
but we may as well take three or four of each sort. Koll
up a poncho, boys, and fasten it on your saddles. Put
plenty of ammunition in your bags; see your brandy
flasks are full, and put out half a dozen bottles to go
with Terence. There are six pounds of tobacco in the
storeroom; let him bring them all. Hubert, take our
water-skins; and look in the storeroom — there are three
or four spare skins; give them to Terence, some of our

208 OUT ON TEE PAMPAS.

friends may not have thought of bringing theirs, and the
country may, for aught we know, be badly watered.
And tell him to bring a dozen colored blankets with
him."

In a few minutes all these things were attended to,
and then, just as they were going out of the house,
Sarah came up, her face swollen with crying.

"Won't you take a cup of tea and just something to
eat, sir? You've had nothing yet, and you will want it.
It is all ready in the dining-room."

' ' Thank you, Sarah. You are right. Come, boys, try
and make a good breakfast. We must keep up our
hearts, you know, and we will bring our little woman
back ere long."

Mr. Hardy spoke more cheerfully, and the boys soon,
too, felt their spirits rising a little. The bustle of mak-
ing preparations, the prospect of the perilous adventure
before them, and the thought that they should assuredly,
sooner or later, come up with the Indians, all combined
to give them hope. Mr. Hardy had little fear of finding
the body of his child under the ruins of the Mercers'
house. The Indians never deliberately kill white
women, always carrying them off; and Mr. Hardy felt
confident that, unless Ethel had been accidentally killed
in the assault, this was the fate which had befallen her.

A hasty meal was swallowed, and then, just as they
were starting, Mrs. Hardy and Maud came out to say
"Good-by," and an affecting scene occurred. Mr.
Hardy and the boys kept up as well as they could, in
order to inspire the mother and sister with hope during
their absence, and with many promises to bring their
missing one back they galloped off.

They were scarcely out of the gate, when thay saw
their two friends from Canterbury coming along at full
gallop. Both were armed to the teeth, and evidently

OUT ON TH3 PAMPAS. 209

prepared for an expedition. They wrung the hands of
Mr. Hardy and his sons.

"We ordered our horses the moment we got your note,
and ate our breakfasts as they were being got ready.
We made a lot of copies of your note, and sent off half a
dozen men in various directions with them. Then we
came on at once. Of course most of the others cannot
arrive for some time yefc, but we were too anxious to hear
all about it to delay, and we thought that we [might
catch you before you started, to aid you in your first
search. Have you any more certain news than you sent
us?"

"None," Mr. Hardy said, and then repeated the rela-
tion of the survivor.

There was a pause when he had finished, and then Mr.
Herries said:

"Well, Mr. Hardy, I need not tell you, if our dear
little Ethel is alive, we will follow you till we find her, if
we are a year about it."

"Thanks, thanks," Mr. Hardy said earnestly. "I
feel a conviction that we shall yet recover her."

During this conversation they had been galloping
rapidly toward the scene of the catastrophe, and, ab-
sorbed in their thoughts, not another word was spoken
until they gained the first rise, from which they had
been accustomed to see the pleasant house of the Mer-
cers. An exclamation of rage and sorrow burst from
them all, as only a portion of the chimney and a charred
post or two showed where it had stood. The huts of the
peona had also disappeared; the young trees and shrubs
round the house were scorched up and burned by the heat
to which they had been exposed, or had been broken off
from the spirit of wanton mischief.

With clinched teeth, and faces pale with rage and
anxiety, the party rode on past the site of the huts,

210 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

scattered round which were the bodies of several of the
murdered peons. They halted not until they drew rein,
and leaped off in front of the house itself.

It had been built entirely of wood, and only the
stumps of the corner posts remained erect. The sun
had so thoroughly dried the boards of which it was con-
structed that it had burned like so much tinder, and the
quantity of ashes that remained was very small. Here
and there, however, were uneven heaps; and in perfect
silence, but with a sensation of overpowering dread, Mr.
Hardy and his friends tied up their horses, and pro-
ceeded to examine these heaps, to see if they were
formed by the remains of human beings.

Very carefully they turned them over, and as they did
go their knowledge of the arrangements of the different
rooms helped them to identify the various articles. Here
was a bed, there a box of closely-packed linen, of which
only the outer part was burned, the interior bursting into
flames as they turned it over; here was the storeroom,
with its heaps of half-burned flour where the sacks had
stood.

In half an hour they were able to say with tolerable
certainty that no human beings had been burned, for the
bodies could not have been wholly consumed in such a
speedy conflagration.

"Perhaps they have all been taken prisoners," Hubert
suggested, as with a sigh of relief they concluded their
search, and turned from the spot.

Mr. Hardy shook his head. He was too well ac-
quainted with the habits of the Indians to think such a
thing possible. Just at this moment Dash, who had
followed them unnoticed during their ride, and who had
been ranging about uneasily while they had been occu-
pied by the search, set up a piteous howling. All started
and looked round. The dog was standing by the edge

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

of the ditch which had been dug outside the fence* His
head was raised high in air, and he was giving vent to
prolonged and mournful howls.

All felt that the terrible secret was there. The boys
turned ghastly pale, and they felt that not for worlds
could they approach to examine the dreadful mystery.

Mr. Hardy was almost as much affected.

Mr. Herries looked at his friend, and then said gravely
to Mr. Hardy, "Do you wait here, Mr. Hardy; we will
go on."

As the friends left them the boys turned away, and
leaning against their horses, covered their eyes with
their hands. They dared not look round. Mr. Hardy
stood still for a minute, but the agony of suspense was
too great for him. He started off at a run, came up to
his friends, and with them hurried on to the fence.

Not as yet could they see into the ditch. At ordinary
times the fence would have been an awkward place to
climb over; now they hardly knew how they scrambled
over, and stood by the side of the ditch. They looked
down, and Mr. Hardy gave a short, gasping cry, and
caught at the fence for support.

Huddled together in the (Jitch was a pile of dead
bodies, and among them peeped out a piece of a female
dress. Anxious to relieve their friend's agonizing sus-
pense, the young men leaped down into the ditch, and
began removing the upper bodies from the ghastly pile.

First were the two men employed in the house; then
came Mr. Mercer; then the two children and an old
woman-servant; below them were the bodies of Mrs.
Mercer and her brother. There were no more. Ethel
was not among them.

When first he had heard of the massacre Mr. Hardy
had said, "Better dead than carried off," but the relief
to his feelings was so great as the last body was turned

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

over, and that it was evident that the child was not
there, that he would have fallen had not Mr. Herries
hastened to climh up and support him, at the same time
crying out to the boys, "She is not here."

Charley and Hubert turned toward each other, and
burst into tears of thankfulness and joy. The suspense
had been almost too much for them, and Hubert felt so
eick and faint that he was forced to lie down for awhile,
while Charley went forward to the others. He was terri-
bly shocked at the discovery of the murder of the entire
party, as they had cherished the hope that Mrs. Mercer
at least would have been carried off. As, however, she
had been murdered, while it was pretty evident that
Ethel had been spared, or her body would have been
found with the others, it was supposed that poor Mrs.
Mercer had been shot accidentally, perhaps in the en-
deavor to save her children.

The bodies were now taken from the ditch, and laid
side by side until the other settlers should arrive. It
was not long before they began to assemble, riding up in
little groups of twos and threes. Rage and indignation
were upon all their faces at the sight of the devastated
house, and their feelings were redoubled when they
found that the whole of the family, who were so justly
liked and esteemed, were dead. The Edwards and the
Jamiesons were among the earliest arrivals, bringing the
Guacho Martinez with them. Perez, too, shortly after
arrived from Canterbury, he having been out on the
farm when his master left.

Although all these events have taken some time to
relate, it was still early in the day. The news had
arrived at six, and the messengers were sent off half an
hour later. The Hardys had set out before eight, and
had reached the scene of the catastrophe in half an hour.
It was nine o'clock when the bodies were found, and half

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 213

an hour after this friends began to assemble. By ten
o'clock a dozen more had arrived, and several more
could be seen in the distance coming along at full gallop
to the spot.

"I think," Mr. Hardy said, "that we had better em-
ploy ourselves, until the others arrive, in burying the
remains of our poor friends."

There was a general murmur of assent, and all sepa-
rated to look for tools. Two or three spades were found
thrown down in the garden, where a party had been at
work the other day. And then all looked to Mr- Hardy. ;

"I think," he said, "we cannot do better than lay
them where their house stood. The place will never be
the site of another habitation. Any one who may buy
the property would choose another place for his house
than th« scene of this awful tragedy. The gate once
locked, the fence will keep out animals for very many
years."

A grave was accordingly dug in the center of the space
once occupied by the house. In this the bodies of Mr.
Mercer and his family were laid. And Mr. Hardy having
solemnly pronounced such parts of the burial service as
he remembered over them, all standing by bareheaded,
and stern with suppressed sorrow, the earth was filled in
over the spot where a father, mother, brother, and two
children lay together. Another grave was at the same
time dug near, and in this the bodies of the three servants
whose remains had been found with the others were laid.

By this time it was eleven o'clock, and the number of
those present had reached twenty. The greater portion
of them were English, but there were also three Ger-
mans, a Frenchman, and four Guachos, all accustomed
to Indian warfare.

"How long do you think it will be before all who in-
tend to come can join us?" Mr. Hardy asked ,

214 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

There was a pause; then one of the Jamiesons said:

"Judging by the time your message reached us, you
must have set off before seven. Most of us, on the re-
ceipt of the message, forwarded it by fresh messengers
on further; but of course some delay occurred in so
doing, especially as many of us may probably have been
out on the plains when the message arrived. The
persons to whom we sent might also have been out.
Our friends who would be likely to obey the summons at
once all live within fifteen miles or so. That makes
thirty miles, going and returning. Allowing for the loss
of time I have mentioned, we should allow five hours.
That would bring it on to twelve o'clock."

There was a general murmur of assent.

"In that case," Mr. Hardy said, "I propose that we
eat a meal as hearty as we can before starting. Charley,
tell Terence to bring the horses with the provisions
here."

The animals were now brought up, and Mr. Hardy
found that, in addition to the charqui and biscuit, Mrs.
Hardy had sent a large supply of cold meat which hap-
pened to be in the larder, some bread, a large stock of
tea and sugar, a kettle, and some tin mugs.

The cold meat and bread afforded an ample meal,
which was much needed by those who had come away
without breakfast.

By twelve o'clock six more had arrived, the last comer
being Mr. Percy. Each newcomer was filled with rage
and horror upon hearing of the awful tragedy which had
been enacted.

At twelve o'clock exactly Mr. Hardy rose to his feet.
"My friends," he said, "I thank you all for so promptly-
answering to my summons. I need say no words to
excite your indignation at the massacre that has taken
place here. You know, too, that my child has been car-

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

ried away. I intend, with my sons and my friends from
Canterbury, going in search of her into the Indian coun-
try. My first object is to secure her, my second to
avenge my murdered friends. A heavy lesson, too,
given the Indians in their own country, will teach them
that they cannot with impunity commit their depreda-
tions upon us. Unless such a lesson is given, a life on
the plains will become so dangerous that we must give up
our settlements. At the same time, I do not conceal
from you that the expedition is a most dangerous one.
We are entering a country of which we know nothing.
The Indians are extremely numerous, and are daily
becoming better armed. The time we may be away is
altogether vague; for if it is a year I do not return until
I have found my child. I know that there is not a man
here who would not gladly help to rescue Ethel — not
one who does not long to avenge our murdered friends.
At the same time, some of you have ties, wives and
children, whom you may not consider yourselves justi-
fied in leaving, even upon an occasion like this. Some
of you, I know, will accompany me; but if any one feels
any doubts, from the reasons I have stated — if any one
considers that he has no right to run this tremendous
risk — let him say so at once, and I shall respect his feel-
ings, and my friendship and good-will will in no way be
diminished."

As Mr. Hardy ceased, his eye wandered round the
circle of stalwart-looking figures around him, and rested
upon the Jamiesons. No one answered for a moment,
and then the elder of the brothers spoke:

"Mr. Hardy, it was right and kind of you to say that
any who might elect to stay behind would not forfeit your
respect and esteem, but I for one say that he would de-
servedly forfeit his own. We have all known and
esteemed the Mercers. We have all known, and I may

216 OUT ON TEE PAMPAS.

say, loved you and your family. From you we have one
and all received very great kindness and the warmest
hospitality. We all know and love the dear child who
has been carried away; and I say that he who stays be-
hind is unworthy of the name of a man. For myself
and brother, I say that if we fall in this expedition
— if we never set eyes upon our wives again — we shall die
satisfied that we have only done our duty. We are with
you to the death."

A loud and general cheer broke from the whole party
as the usually quiet Scotchman thus energetically ex-
pressed himself. And each man in turn came up to Mr.
Hardy and grasped his hand, saying, "Yours till death."

Mr. Hardy was too much affected to reply for a short
time; then he briefly but heartily expressed his thanks.
After which he went on: "Now to business. I have
here about three hundred pounds of charqui. Let every
man take ten pounds, as nearly as he can guess. There
are also two pounds of biscuit a man. The tea, sugar,
and tobacco, the kettle, and eighty pounds of meat, I
will put on to a spare horse, which Terence will lead.
If it is well packed, the animal will be able to travel as
quickly as we can."

There was a general muster round the provisions.
Each man took his allotted share. The remainder was
packed in two bundles, and secured firmly upon either
side of the spare horse; the tobacco, sugar, and tea being
enveloped in a hide, and placed securely between them,
and the kettle placed at the top of all. Then, mount-
ing their horses, the troop sallied out; and, as Mr.
Hardy watched them start, he felt that in fair fight by
day they could hold their own against^ ten times their
number of Indians,

Each man, with the exception of the young Hardys,
who had their Colt's carbines, had a long rifle; in addi-

OV1 ON THE PAMPAS.

tion to which all had pistols — most of them having
revolvers, the use of which, since the Hardys had first
tried them with such deadly effect upon the pampas,
had become very general among the English settlers.
Nearly all were young, with the deep sunburned hue
gained by exposure on the plains. Every man had his
poncho— a sort of native blanket, used either as a cloak
or for sleeping in at will — rolled up before him on his
saddle. It would have been difficult to find a more serv-
iceable-looking set of men; and the expression of their
laces, 03 they took their last look at the grave of the
Mercers, boded very ill for any Indian who might fall
i&to their clutches*

218 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER XV.

THE PAMPAS ON FIRE.

THE party started at a canter — the pace which they
knew their horses would be able to keep up for the
longest time — breaking every half-hour or so into a walk
for ten minutes, to give them breathing time. All were
well mounted on strong, serviceable animals; but these .
had not in all cases been bought specially for speed, as
had those of the Hardys. It was evident that the chase
would be a long one. The Indians had twelve hours'
start; they were much lighter men than the whites, and
carried less additional weight. Their horses, therefore,
could travel as fast and as far as those of their pursuers.
The sheep would, it is true, be an incumbrance; the
cattle could scarcely be termed so; and it was probable
that the fist day they would make a journey of fifty or
sixty miles, traveling at a moderate pace only, as they
would know that no instant pursuit could take place.
Indeed their strength, which the peon had estimated at
five hundred men, would render them to a certain extent
careless, as upon an open plain the charge of this num-
ber of men would sweep away any force which could be
collected short of obtaining a strong body of troops from
Eosario.

For the next two days it was probable that they would
make as long and speedy journeys as the animals could
accomplish. After that, being well in their own coun-

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

try, they would cease to travel rapidly, as no pursuit had
ever been attempted in former instances.

There was no difficulty in following the track. Mr.
Mercer had possessed nearly a thousand cattle and five
thousand sheep, and the ground was trampled in a broad,
unmistakable line. Once or twice Mr. Hardy consulted
his compass. The trail ran southwest by west.

There was not much talking. The whole party were
too impressed with the terrible scene they had wit-
nessed, and the tremendously hazardous nature of the
enterprise they had undertaken, to indulge in general
conversation. Gradually, however, the steady, rapid
motion, the sense of strength and reliance in themselves
and each other, lessened the somber expression, and a
general talk began, mostly upon Indian fights, in which
most of the older settlers had at one time or other taken
a part.

Mr. Hardy took a part in and encouraged this conver-
sation. He knew how necessary, in an expedition of
this sort, it was to keep up the spirits of all engaged;
and he endeavored, therefore, to shake off his own heavy
weight of care, and to give animation and life to them
all.

The spirits of the younger men rose rapidly, and in-
sensibly the pace was increased, until Mr. Hardy, as
leader of the party, was compelled to recall to them the
necessity of saving their animals, many of which had
already come from ten to fifteen miles before arriving at
the rendezvous at the Mercers'.

After three hours' steady riding they arrived at the
banks of a small stream. There Mr. Hardy called a halt,
for the purpose of resting the animals.

"I think," he said, "that we must have done twenty-
five miles. We will give them an hour's rest, and then
do another fifteen. Some of them have already done

OUT ON THE PAMPAS,

forty, and it will not do to knock them up the first
day."

Girths were loosened, and the horses were at work
cropping the sweet grass near the water's edge. The
whole party threw themselves down on a sloping bank,
pipes were taken out and lit, and the probable direction
of the chase discussed.

In a short time Charley rose, and saying, "I will see
if I can get anything better than dried meat for supper/'
exchanged his rifle for Mr. Hardy's double-barreled gun,
•which was carried by Terence, and whistling for the
jetriever, strolled on* up the stream. In ten minutes the
double-barrels were heard at a short distance, and a
quarter of an hour afterward again, but this time faintly.
Ten minutes before the hour was up he appeared, wip-
ing the perspiration from his face, with seven and a half
brace of plump duck.

"They were all killed in four shots," he said, as he
threw them down. "They were asleep in the pools, and
I let fly right into the middle of them before they heard
me/'

There was a general feeling of satisfaction at the sight
of the birds, which were tied in couples, and fastened oa
the horses.

In two minutes more they were again in the saddles,
Hubert saying to his father as they started, "There ia
one satisfaction, papa, we can't miss the way. We have
only to ride far enough, and we must overtake them."

Mr. Hardy shook his head. He knew enough of
Indian warfare to be certain that every artifice and
maneuver would have to be looked for and baffled; for
even when believing themselves safe from pursuit,
Indians never neglect to take every possible precaution
against it.

After riding for two hours longer Mr. Hardy con-

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 221

suited the Guachos if there were any stream near, but
they said that it would be at least two hours' riding be-
fore they reached another, and that that was a very un-
certain supply. Mr. Hardy therefore decided to halt at
once, as the men knew this part of the plain thoroughly,
from hunting ostriches on it, and from frequent expedi-
tions in search of strayed cattle. They had all lived
and hunted at one time or another with the Indians.
Many of the Gauchos take up their abode permanently
with the Indians, being adopted as members of the tribe,
and living and dressing like the Indians themselves.
These visits are generally undertaken to avoid the con-
sequences of some little difficulty — a man killed in a
gambling quarrel, or for rivalry in love. Sometimes
they make their peace again, satisfy the blood- relations
with a bull, secure absolution readily enough by confes-
sion and a gift of a small sum to the Church, and
return to their former life; but as often as not they
remain witL the Indians, and even attain to the rank of
noted chiefs among them.

The men who accompanied the expedition were all of
the former class. All had taken to the pampas to
escape the consequences of some crime or other, but had
grown perfectly sick of it, and had returned to civilized
life. In point of morals they were not, perhaps, desira-
ble companions; but they were all brave enough, thor-
oughly knew the country further inland, and, if not
enthusiastic in the adventure, were yet willing enough
to follow their respective masters, and ready to fight for
their lives upon occasion.

Just as they halted Mr. Herries thought that he
caught sight of some deer a short way ahead. He there-
fore started at once for a stalk, several of the others
going off in other directions. Mr. Herries proceeded
very cautiously, and the wind being fortunately toward

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

him, he was enabled to creep up tolerably close. Tha
animals, which are extremely shy, had, however, an idea
that danger was about before he could get within a fair
shot. As he knew that they would be off in another
instant, he at once practiced a trick which he had often
found to be successful.

He threw himself on his back, pulled a red handker-
chief from his neck, tied it to one of his boots so as to
let it float freely in the air, and then threw up both legs
in the form of a letter V. Then he began moving them
slowly about, waving them to and fro. The deer, which
were upon the point of flight, paused to gaze at this
strange object; then they began to move in a circle,
their looks still directed at this unknown thing, to
which they gradually kept approaching as they moved
round it. At last they were fairly in shot, and Herries,
whose legs were beginning to be very weary, sprang to
his feet, and in another instant the foremost of the deer
lay quivering in death.

Taking it upon his shoulders, he proceeded to the
camp, where his arrival was hailed with acclamation. A
fire was already alight, made of grass and turf, the for-
mer being pulled up in handfuls by the roots, and mak-
ing a fierce but short-lived blaze. A large quantity had
been collected at hand, and the ducks were already cut
up. Half a one was handed to each; for every man is
his own cook upon the pampas.

The other hunters shortly returned, bringing in an-
other of the little deer; for the stag of the pampas is of
small size. They were speedily skinned by the Guachos,
and cut up, and all the party were now engaged in roast-
ing duck and venison steaks on their steel ramrods over
the fire.

When all were satisfied, a double handful of tea was
thrown into the kettle, which was already boiling, pipea

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

lighted, and a general feeling of comfort experi-
enced. The horses had been picketed close at hand,
each man having cut or pulled a heap of grass and placed
it before his beast; beside which, the picket ropea
allowed each horse to crop the grass growing in a small
circle, of which he was the center.

Mr. Hardy chatted apart for some time with the
Guachos, anxious to know as much as possible of the
country into which he was entering. The others chatted
and told stories. Presently Mr. Hardy joined again in
the general conversation, and then, during a pause, said,
"Although, my friends, I consider it most improbable
that any Indians are in the neighborhood, still it is just
possible that they may have remained, on purpose to fall
at night upon any party who might venture to pursue.
At any rate, it is right to begin our work in a business-
like way. I therefore propose that we keep watches
regularly. It is now nine o'clock. We shall be moving
by five: that will make four watches of two hours each.
I should say that three men in a watch, stationed at fifty
yards from the camp upon different sides would suffice."

There was a general assent to the proposal.

"To save trouble," Mr. Hardy went on, "I suggest
that we keep watch in the alphabetical order of our
names. Twelve of us will be on to-night, and the next
twelve to-morrow night."

The proposal was at once agreed to; and the three
who were first on duty at once rose, and, taking their
rifles, went off in various directions, first agreeing that
one of them should give a single whistle as a signal that
the watch was up, and that two whistles close together
would be a warning to retreat at once toward the center.

The watch also ascertained which were the next three
men to be roused, and these and the succeeding watches
agreed to lie next to each other, in order that they might
be roused without awakening their companions.

224 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

In a few minutes there was a general unrolling of
ponchos, and soon afterward only sleeping figures could
be seen by the dim light of the smoldering fire. Mr.
Hardy, indeed, was the only one of the party who did
not fall to sleep. Thoughts of the events of the lasfc
twenty-four hours, of the best course to be adopted, and
of the heavy responsibility upon himself as leader of this
perilous expedition, prevented him from sleeping. Ha
heard the watch return, rouse the relief, and lay down
in their places. In another half hour he himself rose,
and walked out toward the sentry.

It was a young man named Cook, one of the new set-
tlers to the east of Mount Pleasant. "Is that you, Mr.
Hardy?" he asked, as he approached. "I was just
coming in to wake you."

"What is it, Mr. Cook?"

"It strikes me, sir, that there is a strange light away
to the southwest. I have only noticed it the the last
few minutes, and thought it was fancy, but it gets more
distinct every minute."

Mr. Hardy looked out anxiously into the gloom and
quickly perceived the appearance that his friend alluded
to.

For a minute or two he did not speak, and then, as
the light evidently increased, he said, almost with a
groan, "It is what I feared they would do: they have set
the prairie on fire. You need not keep watch any
longer. We are as much separated from the Indians as
if the ocean divided us."

Cook gave the two short whistles agreed upon to recall
the other men on guard, and then returned with Mr.
Hardy to the rest of the party. Then Mr. Hardy roused
all his companions. Every man leaped up, rifle in hand,
believing that the Indians were approaching.

"We must be up and doing," Mr. Hardy said cheer-
fully; "the Indians have fired the pampas."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

There was a thrill of apprehension in the bosom of
many' present, who had heard terrible accounts of prairie
fires, but this speedily subsided afc the calm manner of
Mr. Hardy.

"The fire," he said, "may be ten miles away yet. I
should say that it was, but it is difficult to judge, for
this grass does not flame very high, and the smoke drifts
between it and us. The wind, fortunately, is light, but
it will be here in little over half an hour. Now, let the
four Guachos attend to the horses, to see they do not
stampede. The rest form a line a couple of yards apart,
and pull up the grass by the roots, throwing it behind
them, so as to leave the ground clear. The wider we
can make it the better."

All fell to work with hearty zeal. Looking over their
shoulders, the sky now appeared on fire. Flickering
tongues of flame seemed to struggle upward. There
was an occasional sound of feet, as herds of deer flew by
before the danger.

"How far will it go, papa, do you think?" Hubert
asked his father, next to whom he was at work.

"I should say that it would most likely stop at the
stream where we halted to-day, Hubert. The ground
was wet and boggy for some distance on the other side."

The 'horses were now getting very restive, and there
was a momentary pause from work to wrap ponchoa
round their heads, so as to prevent their seeing the glare.

The fire could not have been more than three miles
distant, when the space cleared was as wide as Mr. Hardy
deemed necessary for safety. A regular noise, some-
thing between a hiss and a roar, was plainly audible; and
when the wind lifted the smoke the flames could be
seen running along in an unbroken wall of fire. Birds
flew past overhead with terrified cries, and a close, hot
smell of burning was very plainly distinguishable.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Starting about halfway along the side of the cleared
piece of ground, Mr. Hardy set the dry grass alight.
For a moment or two it burned slowly, and then, fanned
by the wind, it gained force, and spread in a semicircle
of flame.

The horses were already unpicketed, and half of the
party held them at a short distance in the rear, while
the rest stood in readiness to extinguish the fire if it
crossed the cleared space.

Over and over again the fire crept partially across —
for the clearing had been done but roughly — but it was
speedily stamped out by the heavy boots of the watchers.

The spectacle, as the fire swept away before the wind,
was fine in the extreme. The party seemed inclosed
between two walls of fire. The main conflagration was
now fearfully close, burning flakes were already falling
among them, and the sound of the fire was like the
hiss of the surf upon a pebbly beach.

"Now," Mr. Hardy said, "forward with the horses.
Every one to his own animal. Put your ponchos over
your own heads as well as your horses."

In another minute the party stood clustered upcn the
black and smoking ground which the fire they had
kindled had swept clear. There, for five minutes, they
remained without moving unscorched by the raging
element around them, but half-choked with the smoke.

Then Mr. Hardy spoke: "It is over now. You can
look up."

There was a general expression of astonishment as the
heads emerged from their wrappers, and the eyes recov-
ered sufficiently from the effects of the blinding smoke
to look round. Where had the fire gone? "Where, in-
deed! The main conflagration had swept by them, had
divided in two when it reached the ground already
burned, and these columns, growing further and furthe*

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

asunder as the newly kindled fire had widened, were
already far away to the right and left, while beyond and
"between them was the fire that they themselves had
kindled, now two miles wide, and already far in the
distance.

These fires in the pampas, although they frequently
extend over a vast tract of country, are seldom fatal to
life. The grass rarely attains a height exceeding three
feet, and burns out almost like so much cotton. A man
on horseback, having no other method of escape, can, by
blindfolding his horse and wrapping his own face in a
poncho, ride fearless through the wall of fire without
damage to horse or rider.

It was only, therefore, the young hands who had felt
any uneasiness at the sight of the fire; for the settlers
were in the habit of regularly setting fire to the grass
upon their farms every year before the rains, as the
grass afterward springs up fresh and green for the ani-
mals. Care has to be taken to choose a calm day, when
the flames can be confined within bounds; but instances
have occurred when fires so commenced have proved
most disastrous, destroying many thousands of animals.

"There is nothing to do but to remain where we are
until morning," Mr. Hardy said. "The horses had bet-
ter be picketed, and then those who can had better get
a few hours' more sleep. We shall want no more watch
to-night." In a few minutes most of the party were
again asleep; and the young Hardys were about to follow
their example, when Mr. Hardy came up to them and
said quietly, "Come this way, boys; we are going to have
a council."

The boys followed their father to where some eight or
nine men were sitting down at a short distance from the
sleepers, and these the boys made out, by the glow from
their pipes, to consist of Herries and Farquhar, the two
Jamiesons, Mr. Percy, and the four Guachos.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"This is a terribly bad business/' Mr. Hardy began,
•when he and his sons had taken their seats on the
ground. "I expected it, but it is a heavy blow never-
theless."

"Why, what is the matter, papa?" the boys exclaimed
anxiously. "Have we lost anything?"

"Yes, boys," Mr. Hardy said; "we have lost what is
at this moment the most important thing in the world—-
we have lost the trail."

Charley and Hubert uttered a simultaneous exclama-
tion of dismay as the truth flashed across their minds.
"The trail was lost!" They had never thought of this.
In the excitement of the fire, it had never once occurred
to them that the flames were wiping out every trace of
the Indian track.

Mr. Hardy then went on, addressing himself to the
others: "Of course this fire was lit with the especial in-
tent of throwing us off the scent. Have you any idea
how far it is likely to have come?" he asked the Guachos.
"That is, are you aware of the existence of any wide
stream or damp ground which would have checked it,
and which must therefore be the furthest boundary of
the fire?"

The Guachos were silent a minute; then Perez said,
"The next stream is fifteen miles further; but it is small,
and would not stop the fire going with the wind. Be-
yond that there is no certain stream, as far as I know of."

"The ground rises, and the grass gets thinner and
poorer thirty miles or so on. I should say that they
would light it this side of that," Martinez said. The
other Guachos nodded assent.

"We took the bearings of the track by our compass,"
Farquhar said. "Could we not follow it on by compass
across the burned ground, and hit it upon the other
Bide?"

OUT ON THE PAMPA8.

}

Mr. Percy and Mr. Hardy both shook their heads. "I
do not pretend to say where the trail is gone/' the for-
mer said, "but the one place where I am quite sure it is
not, is on the continuation of the present line."

"No," Mr. Hardy continued. "As you say, Percy,
there it certainly is not. The Indians, when they got to
some place which is probably about half across the
burned ground, turned either to the right or left, and
traveled steadily in that direction, sending one or two of
their number in the old direction to light the grass, so
as to sweep away all trace of the trail. They may have
gone to the right or to the left, or may even have doubled
back and passed us again at only a few miles' distance.
We have no clew whatever to guide us at present, except
the certainty that sooner or later the Indians will make
for their own camping-ground. That is the exact state
of the affair." And Mr. Hardy repeated what he had
just said in Spanish to the Guachos, who nodded assent.

"And in which direction do the Guachos believe thafc
their camping-ground lies?" Mr. Jamieson asked after
a pause; "because it appears to me that it is a waste of
time to look for the trail, and that our only plan is to
push straight on to their villages, which we may reach
before they get there. And in that case, if we found
them unguarded, we might seize all their women, and
hold them as hostages until they return. Then we could
exchange them for Ethel; and when we had once got
her, we could fight our way back."

"Capital, capital!" the other English man exclaimed.
"Don't you think so, papa?" Hubert added, seeing that
Mr. Hardy did not join in the general approval.

"The plan is an admirably conceived one, but there is
a great difficulty in the way. I observed yesterday that
the trail did not lead due south, as it should have done
if the Indians were going straight back to their camping

330 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

ground. I questioned the Guachos, and they all agree
•with me on the subject. The trail is too westerly for
the camping-grounds of the Pampas Indians; too far to
the south for the country of the Flat-faces of the Sierras.
I fear that there is a combination of the two tribes, as
there was in the attack upon us, and that they went the
first day in the direction which would be most advan-
tageous for both; and that, on reaching their halting-
place — perhaps twenty or thirty miles from here — they
made a division of their booty, and each tribe drew off
toward its own hunting-grounds. In this case we have
first to find the two trails, then to decide the terrible
question, which party have taken Ethel?"

Again the Guachos, upon this being translated to
them, expressed their perfect accordance with Mr.
Hardy's views, and some surprise at his idea as having
been so identical with their own upon the subject.

As for the six young men, they were too dismayed at
the unexpected difficulties which had started up in their
way to give any opinion whatever. This uncertainty
was terrible, and all felt that it would have a most de-
pressing effect upon themselves and upon the whole
expedition; for how could they tell, after journeying for
hundreds of miles, whether every step might not take
them further from the object of their search?

In this state of depression they remained for some
minutes, when Perez the Guacho said, in his broken
English, "Most tribe take most plunder, most cattle,
most sheep — take girl."

"Well thought of, Perez!" Mr. Hardy exclaimed
warmly. "That is the clew for us, sure enough. As
you say, the tribe who has furnished most men will, as a
matter of course, take a larger share of the booty; and
Ethel, being the only captive, would naturally go to the
strongest tribe."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 231

The rest were all delighted at this solution of a diffi-
culty which had before appeared insuperable, and the
most lively satisfaction was manifested.

The plans for the day were then discussed. Proposi-
tions were made that they should divide into two parties,
and go one to the right and the other to the left until
they arrived at unburned ground, the edge of which
they should follow until they met. This scheme was,
however, given up, as neither party would have seen the
trail inspected by the other and no opinion could there-
fore be formed as to the respective magnitude of the
parties who had passed — a matter requiring the most
careful examination and comparison, and an accurate
and practiced judgment.

It was finally resolved, therefore, to keep in a body,
and to proceed, in the first place, to search for the trail
of the party to the south. A calculation was made,
upon the supposition that the Indians had traveled for
another twenty-five miles upon their old course, and
then separated, each party making directly for home.
To avoid all mistakes, and to allow for a detour, it was
determined to shape a direct course to a point considera-
bly to the east of that given by the calculation, to follow
the edge of the burned ground until the trail was arrived
at, and then to cut straight across, in order to find and
examine the trail of the western Indians.

As this conclusion was arrived at, tha first dawn of
light appeared in the east, and Mr. Hardy at once roused
the sleepers.

He then gave them a brief account of the conclusions
to which he had arrived in the night, and of his reason,
for so doing. There was a general expression of agree-
ment, then the girths were tightened, and in five min-
utes the troop was in motion.

How great was the change since the preceding evea-

232 OUT ON TEE PAMPAS.

ing! Then, as far as the eye could reach stretched a
plain of waving grass. Birds had called to their mates,
coveys of game had risen at their approach; deer had
been seen bounding away in the distance; ostriches had
gazed for an instant at the unusual sight of man, and
had gone off with their heads forward and their wings
outstretched before the wind.

Now, the eye wandered over a plain of dingy black,
unbroken by a single prominence, undisturbed by living
creatures except themselves. As [Hubert remarked to
his father, "Ifc looked as if it had been snowing black all
night."

Both men and horses were anxious to get over these
dreary plains, and the pace was faster, and the halts less
frequent, than they had been the day before.

It was fortunate that the fire had not taken place at
an earlier hour of the evening, as the horses would have
been weakened by want of food. As it was, they had
had five hours to feed after their arrival.

Both men and horses, however, suffered much from
thirst; and the former had good reason to congratulate
themselves on having filled every water-skin at the first
halting-place of the preceding day. Clouds of black im-
palpable dust rose as they rode along. The eyes, mouth,
and nostrils were filled with it, and they were literally as
black as the ground over which they rode.

Twice they stopped and drank, and sparingly washed
out the nostrils and mouths of the horses, which was a
great relief to them, for they suffered as much as did
their masters, as also did Dash, who, owing to his head
being so near the ground, was almost suffocated; indeed,
Hubert at last dismounted, and took the poor animal up
on to the saddle before him.

At last, after four hours* steady riding, a gleam of
color was seen in the distance, and in another quarter of

GUT ON THE PAMPAS. 233

an Hour they reached the unburned plains, which, worn
and parched as they were, looked refreshing indeed after
the dreary waste over which they had passed.

The Guachos, after a consultation among themselves,
agreed in the opinion that the little stream of which
they had spoken was but a short distance further, and
that, although the channel might be dry, pools would
no doubt be found in it. It was determined, therefore,
to push on, and half an hour's riding by the edge of the
burned grass brought them to the spot, when, following
the course of the channel, they soon came to a pool, from
which men and horses took a long drink.

At their approach an immense number of wild duck
rose, and, as soon as the horses were picketed Charley
again started with the gun, taking Terence with him to
assist in bringing home the birds. They soon heard his
gun, and Terence presently returned with six brace of
ducks and a goose, and a request that another man would
go back with him, for that the birds were so abundant,
and so apparently stupefied from flying over the smoke
and flame, that he could bring in any quantity.

One of the Jamiesons and Herries therefore went out,
and returned in less than an hour with Charley, bringing
between them four more geese and eighteen brace of
ducks.

Charley was greeted with a round of applause, and was
soon at work with his friends upon the meal which was
now ready.

After breakfast there was a comparison of opinion,
and it was at last generally agreed that they had ridden
nearly forty miles since daybreak, and that they could
not be far from the spot where the Indians ought to have
passed if they had kept the direction as calculated. It
was also agreed that it would be better to let the horses
remain where they were till late in the afternoon, when
they might accomplish another fifteen miles or so.

234 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Mr. Hardy then proposed that those who were inclined
should accompany him on a walk along the edge of the
burned ground. "We cannot be very far oil from the
trail," he said, "if our calculations are correct; and if
we can find and examine it before it is time to start, we
may be able to-night to cross to the other side, and thus
gain some hours."

Herries, Farquhar, the two Jamiesons, Cook, and the
young Hardys at once volunteered for the walk, and
shouldering their rifles, started at a steady pace.

They had not walked much over a mile when a shout
of pleasure broke from them, as, upon ascending a
slight rise, they saw in the hollow below them the broad
line of trampled grass, which showed that a large body
of animals had lately passed along. All hurried forward,
and a close and anxious examination took place.

Opinions differed a good deal as to the number that
had passed; nor, accustomed as they all were to seeing
the tracks made by herds of cattle and flocks of sheep,
could they come to any approximate agreement on the
subject. Had the number been smaller, the task would
have been easier; but it is a question requiring extreme
knowledge and judgment to decide whether four hun-
dred cattle and two thousand sheep, or six hundred cat-
tle and three thousand sheep, have passed over a picee
of ground.

Mr. Hardy at last sent Charley back, accompanied by
Mr. Cook, to request Mr. Percy to come on at once with,
the Guachos to give their opinion. Charley and his
companions were to remain with the horses, and were to
request those not specially sent for to stay there also, as
it would be imprudent in the extreme to leave the horsea
without a strong guard.

Pending the arrival of Mr. Percy, Mr. Hardy and his
friends followed up the trial for some distance, so as to

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 235

examine it both in the soft bottoms and on the rises.
They returned in half an hour to their starting place,
and were shortly after joined by Mr. Percy and the
Guachos. Again a careful and prolonged examination
took place, and a tolerably unanimous opinion was at
last arrived at, that a very large number of animals had
passed, apparently the larger half, but that no positive
opinion could be arrived at until a comparison was made
-with the trail on the western side.

Although this conclusion was arrived at unanimously,
It appeared to be reluctantly conceded to by most of
them, and the reason of this became apparent as they
were walking back toward the horses. "1 have little
doubt that the conclusion we have arrived at is correct,"
Herries remarked, ' 'although somehow I am sorry for it;
for ever since our talk last night I have made up my
mind that she was most likely to be taken to the west.
I suppose because the Indians there are more warlike
than those of the pampas, and therefore likely to have
furnished a larger contingent. Of course I had no
reason for thinking so, but so it was."

"That was just what I thought," Hubert said; and
the other Englishmen admitted that they had all enter-
tained a somewhat similar idea.

~ At four in the afternoon they were again in the sad-
dle, having taken the precaution of filling their water-
ekins, and of watering the horses the last thing.

"How far do you think it is across, papa?" Hubert
asked.

"It cannot be very far, Hubert. We are so much
nearer the place where the fire began that I do not
think it can have spread more than ten miles or so
across."

Mr. Hardy's conjecture proved to be correct. An
hour and a half's riding brought them to the other side

386 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

of the burned prairie, striking a point which they felt
sure was to the south of the place where the trail would
have left it.

As they had done more than fifty miles since the
morning, and the horses were much distressed with the
effect of the dust, it was resolved to encamp at once.
The horses received a little water, and were picketed out
to graze. The fire was soon lit, and the ducks cut up
and spitted upon the ramrods.

All were so much exhausted with the heat, the ashes,
the fatigue, and the want of sleep of the previous night
that, the tea and pipes finished and the watch posted,
the rest lay down to sleep before the sun had been an
hour below the horizon.

All rose at daybreak, refreshed with their quiet night's
rest, and were soon in the saddle and on their way north-
ward.

They had nearly an hour's ride before they came upon
the trail.

There it was unmistakably — at first sight as broad and
as much trampled as the other; but after a careful
examination of it there was but one opinion, namely,
that the number of animals who had passed was de-
cidedly less than those who had gone south.

One of the Guachos now told Mr. Hardy that he knew
that at a short distance further to the west there was a
spring of water much used by the Indians, and where he
had no doubt they had halted on the night of the fire.
Finding that it was not more than half an hour's ride,
Mr. Hardy, after a brief consultation, determined to go
over there to water the horses and breakfast, before
retracing their footsteps across the burned prairie.

In little over the time named they came to a small
pool of bright water, from which a little stream issued,
running nearly due north across the plain. After drink«

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 237

ing heartily themselves, and filling the water-skins and
kettle, the horses were allowed to drink; and Dash
plunged in with the greatest delight, emerging his usual
bright chestnut color, whereas he had gone into the
water perfectly hlack.

After he had come out and had shaken himself, he
commenced hunting about, sniffing so violently that
Hubert's attention was attracted to him. Presently the
dog ran forward a few paces and gave a sharp bark of
pleasure, and Hubert, running forward, gave so loud a
cry that all the party rushed up.

Hubert could not speak. There, half-buried in the
ground, and pointing west, was an Indian arrow, and
round the head was twisted a piece of white calico, with
little blue spots upon it, which Mr. Hardy instantly
recognized as a piece of the dress Ethel had worn when
she left home.

Surprise kept all quiet for awhile, and then exclama-
tions of pleasure and excitement broke from all, while
Mr. Hardy and his sons were greatly affected at this
proof of the recent presence of their lost one. The
arrow was deeply sunk in the ground, but it was placed
at a spot where the grass happened to be particularly
short, so that any one passing outward from the spring
could hardly have failed to notice the piece of calico
upon the grass. There was a perfect shower of congrat-
ulations; and it was some time before they were recov-
ered sufficiently to renew their preparations for break-
fast.

At last they sat down round the fire, all their face*
radiant with excitement.

Perez and Martinez, however, eat somewhat apart,
talking in an animated undertone to each other. They
did not even approach the fire to roast their food; and
Mr. Hardy's attention being attracted by this circum-

238 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

stance, he asked what they were talking so earnestly
about.

Neither of them answered him, and he repeated the
question. Then Perez replied: "Martinez and I think
same. All trick; girl gone other way."

Conversation and eating were alike suspended at these
ominous words, and each looked blankly into the others'
faces.

Now that their attention was called to it, the whole
circumstances of the case rushed to their minds; and as
they felt the probable truth of what Perez said, their
hopes fell to zero.

Mr. Percy was the first who, after a long silence,
epoke. "I am afraid, Hardy, that what Perez says is
right, and that we have been very nearly thrown off the
scent by a most transparent trick. Watched as Ethel
must have been, is it probable that she could have pos-
sessed herself of that arrow, and have fastened a strip
of her dress to it, without being noticed? Still more
impossible is it that she could have placed the arrow
where we found it. No one could have passed without
noticing it; so unless we suppose that she was allowed to
linger behind every one, which is out of the question,
the arrow could not have been put there by her."

"Too true, Percy," Mr. Hardy said with a sigh, after a
short silence; "it is altogether impossible, and I should
call it a clumsy artifice, were it not that it deceived us
all for awhile. However, there is one comfort; it
decides the question as we had ourselves decided it:
Ethel is gone with the larger party to the south."

Breakfast was continued, but with a very subdued feel-
ing. Hubert had now finished his, and, being a lad of
restless habit, he took up the arrow which lay beside
him, and began toying with it. First he untied the
piece of stuff, smoothed it, and put it into his pocket-

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 239

book, while his eyes filled with tears; then he continued
listlessly twisting the arrow in his fingers, while he lis-
tened to the conversation around him.

Presently his eyes fell upon the arrow. He started,
.a flush of excitement rushed across his face, and his
hands and lips trembled as he closely examined the
feather.

All gazed at him with astonishment.

"Oh, papa, papa," he cried at last, "I know this
arrow!"

"Know the arrow!" all repeated.

"Yes, I am quite, quite sure I know it. Don't you
remember, Charley, the day that those wounded Indians
started, as we were taking the quivers down to them, I
noticed that one arrow had two feathers which I had
never seen before, and could not guess what bird they
came from. They were light blue, with a crimson tip.
I pulled one off to compare it with my ethers. It is at
home now. I remember that I chose the one I did
because the other one had two of the little side feathers
gone. This is the feather, I can most solemnly declare,
and you see the fellow one is gone. That arrow belongs
to one of the men we recovered."

All crowded round to examine the arrow, and then
Mr. Hardy said solemnly, "Thank God for his mercy,
He has decided our way now. Undoubtedly, as Hubert
says, one of the men we aided is of the party, and wishes
to show his gratitude. So he has managed to get a
piece of Ethel's dress, and has tied it to this arrow,
hoping that we should recognize the feather. Thank
God, there is no more doubt, and thank Him, too, that
Ethel has at least one friend near her."

All was now joy and congratulation, and Hubert
Tubbed his hands, and said triumphantly, "There, Charley,

240 OUT ON THE PAMPAS

you were always chaffing me, and wanting to know
what was the good of my collection, and now you see
what was the good. It has put us on the right trail for
Ethel, and you will never be able to laugh at me about
my collection again."

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER XVL

AT THE STAKE.

IT was on the evening of the fifth- day after her cap-
ture by the Indians that Ethel Hardy rode into a wide
valley in the heart of the mountains. It was entered by
a narrow gorge, through which ran a stream. Beyond
this the hill receded, forming a nearly circular basin a
mile in diameter, from the sides of which' the rocks
ascended almost perpendicularly, so that the only means
of entering it was through the gorge. Clumps of trees
were scattered everywhere about, and nearly in the cen-
ter stood a large Indian village, numbering about three
hundred lodges, the population of which, consisting
almost entirely of women and children, came out with
shrill cries of welcome to meet the returning band.
This was two hundred strong. Before them they drove
about four hundred cattle and fifteen hundred sheep.
In the midst of the band Ethel Hardy rode, apparently
unwatched, and forming part of it.

The girl was very pale, and turned even more so at
the wild yells of triumph which rose around her, when
those who had been left behind learned how signal had
been the success of their warriors, and heard that the
captive in their midst was one of the family which had
inflicted such terrible loss upon the tribe two years pre-
viously. Fortunately she could not understand the
volleys of threats and curses which the women of the
tribe heaped upon her, although she could not mistake
their furious ejaculations.

OUT ON TEE PAMPAS.

Ethel had cried at first until she could cry no more,
and had now nerved herself for the worst. She had
heard that the Indians have neither mercy nor pity for
any one who may exhibit fear of death; she knew that
no entreaties or tears would move them in the slightest,
but that courage and firmness would at any rate com-
mand their respect and admiration. She had therefore
schooled herself to show no emotion when the time came;
and now, except that she had given an involuntary shud-
der at the sight of the gesticulating throng, she betrayed
no sign whatever of her emotion, but looked round so
calmly and unflinchingly that the violent abuse and
gesticulations died away in a murmur of admiration of
the pale-faced child who looked so calmly on death.

Nevertheless, as the troop drew up in front of the
council hut, and alighted, the women pressed round as
usual to heap abuse upon the prisoner; but one of the
Indians stepped up to her, and waved them back, and
saying, "She is the child of a great chief," took her by
the arm, and handed her over to the care of the wife of
one of the principal chiefs. The selection was a good
one; for the woman, who was young, was known in the
tribe as the Fawn for her gentle disposition. She at
once led the captive away to her lodge, where she bade
her sit down, offered her food, and spoke kindly to her
in her low, soft, Indian tongue. Ethel could not under-
stand her, but the kindly tones moved her more than the
threats of the crowd outside had done, and she broke
down in a torrent of tears.

The Indian woman drew the girl to her as a mother
might have done, stroked her long fair hair, and soothed
her with her low talk. Then she motioned to a pile of
skins in the corner of the hut; and when Ethel gladly
threw herself down upon them the Indian woman cov-
ered her up as she would have done a child, and with a

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 243

nod of farewell tripped off to welcome her husband and
hear the news, knowing that there was no possibility of
the captive making her escape.

Exhausted with fatigue and emotion, EthePs sobs
soon ceased, and she fell into a sound sleep.

Of that terrible catastrophe at the Mercers' she had
but a confused idea. They were sitting round the table
talking, when, without the slightest notice or warning,
the windows and doors were burst in, and dozens of dark
forma leaped into the room. She saw Mr. Mercer rush
to the wall and seize his pistols, and then she saw no
more. She was seized and thrown over the shoulder of
an Indian before she had time to do more than leap to
her feet. There was a confused whirl of sounds around
her — shrieks, threats, pistol shots, and savage yells-
then the sounds swam in her ears, and she fainted.

When she recovered consciousness she found that she
was being carried on a horse before her captor, and that
the air was full of a red glare, which she supposed to
arise from a burning house. On the chief, who carried
her, perceiving that she had recovered her senses, he
called to one of his followers, who immediately rode up,
bringing a horse upon which a side-saddle had been
placed. To this Ethel was transposed, and in another
minute was galloping along by the side of her captor.

Even now she could hardly persuade herself that she
was not dreaming. That instantaneous scene at the
Mercers' — those confused sounds — this wild cavalcade of
dark figures who rode round her — could not surely be
real. Alas! she could not doubt it; and as the thought
came across her, What would they say at home when
they heard it? she burst into an agony of silent tears.
Toward daybreak she was often startled to hear the
words, "Hope, Ethel, hope!" in Spanish distinctly
epoken close to her. She turned hastily, but there rode

THE PAMPA8.

the dark forms as usual. Still she felt sure that she wai
not mistaken. Her own name she had distinctly heard;
and although she could not form a conjecture who this
unknown friend could be, still it was a great consolation
to her to feel that she had at any rate one well-wisher
among her enemies. He had told her to hope, too; and
Ethel's spirits, with the elasticity of youth, rose at the
word.

Why should she not hope? she thought. They were
sure to hear it at home next morning, even if no one
escaped and took them the news earlier; and she was
certain that within a few hours of hearing it her father
and friends would be on their trail. Before the night
fell, at latest, they would be assembled. Twenty-four
hours' start would be the utmost that the Indians eould
possibly obtain, and her friends would travel as fast or
faster than they could, for they would be free from all
incumbrances. How far she was to be taken she could
not say, but she felt sure that in a week's traveling her
friends would make «p for the day lost at starting. She
knew that they might not be able to attack the Indians
directly they came up, for they could not be a very
strong party, whereas the Indians were several hundred
strong; but she believed that sooner or later, in some
way or other, her father and brothers would come to her
rescue. Ethel from that time forward did not doubt for
a moment. Trusting thus firmly in her friends, she
gained confidence and courage; and when the troops
halted at nine in the morning, after nine hours' riding,
Ethel was able to look round with some sort of curiosity
and interest.

It was here that an incident occurred, which, although
she knew it not at the time, entirely altered her destina-
tion and prospects.

She was sitting upon the ground, when a man, who by

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. £45

his bearing appeared to be the principal chief present,
passed in earnest talk with another chief. In the latter
she recognized at once one of the wounded Indian
prisoners.

"Tawaina," she said, leaping to her feet.

He paid no attention to her call, and she repeated it
in a louder tone.

The principal chief stopped; Tawaina did the same.
Then he walked slowly toward the captive.

"Save me, Tawaina," she said, "and send me back
again home."

Tawaina shook his head.

"Not can," he said. "Tawaina friend. Help some
time — not now." And he turned away again.

"Does the Eaven know the White Bird," the chief
asked him, "that she sings his name?"

Tawaina paused and said:

"Tawaina knows her. Her father is the great white
brave."

The Indian chief gave a bound of astonishment and
pleasure.

"The white brave with the shooting flames?"

Tawaina nodded.

The Raven's meeting with Ethel had been apparently
accidental, but was in reality intentional. Her actual
captor was one of the chiefs, although not the principal
one, of the Pampas Indians; and in the division of the
spoil, preparations for which were going on, there was
no doubt that she would be assigned to that tribe, with-
out any question upon the part of the Raven's people.

Now, however, that the Stag knew who the prisoner
was, he determined to obtain her for his tribe. He
therefore went direct to the chief of the Pampas Indians,
and asked that the white girl might fall to his tribe.

The chief hesitated.

£46 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"She is our only captive/' he said. "The people will
like to see her, and she will live in the lodge of the Fox,
•who carried her off."

"The Stag would like her for a slave to his wife. He
will give fifty bullocks and two hundred sheep to the
tribe, and will make the Fox's heart glad with a present."

The offer appeared so large for a mere puny girl that
the chief assented at once; and the Fox was content to
take a gun, which proved part of the spoil, for his
interest in his captive.

The Indians of the Stag's tribe murmured to them-
selves at this costly bargain upon the part of their chief.
However, they expressed nothing of this before him,
and continued the work of counting and separating the
animals in proportion to the number of each tribe pres-
ent— the tribes from the plains being considerably the
more numerous.

Not until four o'clock were they again in motion,
when each tribe started direct for home.

In three hours' riding they reached the spring, and
then the Stag ordered a small tent of skins to be erected
for Ethel's accommodation.

From this she came out an hour later to gaze upon
the great wave of fire which, kindled at a point far away
by their scouts, now swept along northward, passing at a
distance of three or four miles from the spring.

It was when sitting gravely round the fire later on
that the Stag deigned to enlighten his followers as to
his reasons for giving what seemed to them so great a
price for a pale-faced child.

The delight of the Indians, when they found that they
had the daughter of their twice victorious enemy in
their hands was unbounded. Vengeance is to the
Indian even more precious than plunder; and the tribe
would not have grudged a far higher price even than,

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 24?

had been paid for the gratification of thus avenging
themselves upon their enemy. The news flew from
mouth to mouth, and triumphant whoops resounded
throughout the camp; and Ethel inside her tent felt her
blood run cold at the savage exultation which they
conveyed.

She was greatly troubled by the fire, for she saw that
it must efface all signs of the trail, and render the task
of her friends long and difficult, and she felt greatly
depressed at what she looked upon as a certain postpone-
ment of her rescue. She lay thinking over all this for a
long time, until the camp had subsided into perfect
quiet. Then the skins were slightly lifted near her
head, and she heard a voice whisper:

"Me, Tawaina — friend. Great chief com e to look for
girl. Two trails — eyes blinded. Tawaina make sign —
point way. Give piece dress that great chief may
believe."

Ethel at once understood. She cautiously tore off a
narrow strip from the bottom of her dress, and put it
under the skin to the speaker.

"Good," he said. "Tawaina friend. Ethel, hope."

Greatly relieved by knowing that a clew would be now
given to her friends, and overpowered by fatigue, Ethel
was very shortly fast asleep.

At daybreak they set off again, having thus thirty
hours' start of their pursuers. They traveled six hours,
rested from eleven till three, and then traveled again
until dark. Occasionally a sheep lagged behind, foot-
sore and weary. He was instantly killed and cut up.

For four days was their rate of traveling, which
amounted to upward of fifty miles a day, continued,
and they arrived, as has been said, the last evening at
their village.

During all this time Ethel was treated with courtesy

248 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

and respect. The best portion of the food was put asicfo
for her, the little tent of skins was always erected at
night, and no apparent watch was kept over her move-
ments.

The next morning she was awake early, and had it
not been for the terrible situation in which she was
placed she would have been amused by the busy stir in
the village, and by the little copper-colored urchins at
play, or going out with the women to collect wood or
fetch water. There was nothing to prevent Ethel from
going out among them, but the looks of scowling hatred
which they cast at her made her draw back again into
the hut, after a long, anxious look around.

It was relief at least to have halted, great as her
danger undoubtedly was. She felt certain now that
hour by hour her father must be approaching. He
might even now be within a few miles. Had it not been
for the fire, she was certain that he would already have
been up, but she could not tell how long he might have
been before he recovered the trail.

Toward the middle of the day two or three Indiana
might have been seen going through the village, sum-
moning those whose position and rank entitled them to
a place at the council.

Soon they were seen approaching, and taking their
seats gravely on the ground in front of the hut of the
principal chief. The women, the youths, and such men
as had not as yet by their feats in battle distinguished
themselves sufficiently to be summoned to the council,
assembled at a short distance off. The council sat in
the form of a circle, the inner ring being formed of the
elder and leading men of the tribe, while the warriors
sat round them.

Struck by the hush which had suddenly succeeded to
the noise of the village, Ethel again went to the door.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 249

She was greatly struck by the scene, and was looking
wonderingly at it, when she felt a touch on her shoulder,
and on looking round saw the Fawn gazing pityingly at
her, and at the same time signing to her to come in.

The truth at once flashed across Ethel's inind. The
council had met to decide her fate, and she did not
doubt for a moment what that decision would be. She
felt that all hope was over, and retiring into the hut
passed the time in prayer and in preparation for the
fearful ordeal which was at hand.

After the council had met there was a pause of expec-
tation, and the Stag then rose.

';My brothers, my heart is very glad. The Great
Spirit has ceased to frown upon his children. Twice we
went out, and twice returned empty-handed, while
many of our lodges were empty. The guns which shoot
without loading were too strong for us, and we returned
sorrowful. Last year we did not go out; the hearts of
our braves were heavy. This year we said perhaps the
Great Spirit will no longer be angry with his children,
and we went out. This time we have not returned
empty-handed. The lowing of cattle is in my ear, and I
see many sheep. The white men have felt the strength of
our arms; and of the young men who went out with me
there is not one missing. Best of all, we have brought
back a captive, the daughter of the white chief of the
flying fires and the guns which load themselves. Let me
hand her over to our women; they will know how to
make her cry; and we will send her head to the white
chief, to show that his guns cannot reach to the Indian
country. Have I spoken well?"

A murmur of assent followed the chief's speech; and
supposing that no more would be said upon the matter,
the Stag was about to declare the council closed, when
an Indian sitting in the inner circle rose.

£50 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

"My brothers, I will tell you a story. The birds once
went out to attack the nest of an eagle, but the eagle
was too strong for them; and when all had gone he
went out from his nest with his children, the young
eagles, and he found the raven and two other birds hurt
and unable to fly, and instead of killing them, as they
might have done, the eagles took them up to their nest,
and nursed them and tended them until they were able
to fly, and then sent them home to their other birds.
So was it with Tawaina and his two friends." And the
speaker indicated with his arm two Indians sitting at
the outer edge of the circle. "Tawaina fell at the fence
where so many of us fell, and in the morning the white
men took him and gave him water, and placed him in
shelter, and bandaged his wound; and the little White
Bird and her sister brought him food and cool drinks
every day and looked pitifully at him. But Tawaina said
to himself, The white men are only curing Tawaina
that when the time comes they may see how an Indian
can die. But when he was well they brought horses,
and put a bow and arrows into our handstand bade us go
free. It is only in the battle that the great white chief
is terrible. He has a great heart. The enemies he
killed he did not triumph over. He laid them in a great
grave. He honored them, and planted trees with droop-
ing leaves at their head and at their feet, and put a fence
round that the foxes might not touch their bones. Shall
the Indian be less generous than the white man? Even
those taken in battle they spared and sent home. Shall
we kill the White Bird captured in her nest? My
brothers will not do so. They will send back the White
Bird to the great white chief. Have I spoken well?"

This time a confused murmu ran round the circle.
Some of the younger men were struck with this appeal
to their generosity, and were in favor of the Raven's

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

proposition; the elder and more ferocious Indians were
altogether opposed to it.

Speaker succeeded speaker, some urging one side of
the question, some the other.

At last the Stag again rose. "My brothers," he said,
"my ears have heard strange words, and my spirit is
troubled. The Eaven has told us of the ways of the
whites after a battle; but the Indians' ways are not as
the whites' ways, and the Stag is too old to learn new
fashions. He looks round, he sees many lodges empty,
he sees many women who have no husbands to hunt
game, he hears the voices of children who cry for meat.
He remembers his brothers who fell before the flying fire
and the guns which loaded themselves, and his eyes are
full of blood. The great white chief has made many
wigwams desolate: let there be mourning in the house
of the white chief. Have I spoken well?"

The acclamations which followed this speech were so
loud and general that the party of the Raven was
silenced, and the council at once broke up.

A cry of exultation broke from the women when they
heard the decision, and all prepared for the work of
vengeance before them.

At a signal from the Stag two of the young Indians
went to the hut and summoned Ethel to accompany
them. She guessed at once that her death was decided
upon and, pale as marble, but uttering no cry or entreaty,
which she knew would be useless, she walked between
them.

For a moment she glanced at the women around her,
to see if there was one look of pity or interest; but faces
distorted with hate and exultation met her eyes, and
threats and imprecations assailed her ears. The sight,
though it appalled, yet nerved her with courage. A
pitying look would have melted her — this rage against

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

one so helpless as herself nerved her; and, with her eyes
turned upward and her lips moving in prayer, she kept
along.

The Indians led her to a tree opposite the center of
the village, bound her securely to it, and then retired.

There was a pause before the tragedy was to begin.
Some of the women brought fagots for the pile, others
cut splinters to thrust under the nails and into the flesh.
The old women chattered and exulted over the tortures
they would inflict; a few of the younger ones stood aloof,
looking on pityingly.

The men of the tribe gathered in a circle, but took no
part in the preparations— the torture of women was
beneath them.

At last all was ready. A fire was lit near; the hags
lit their firebrands and advanced. The chief gave the
signal, and with a yell of exultation they rushed upon
their victim, but fell back with a cry of surprise, rudely
thrust off by three Indians who placed themselves before
the captive.

The women retreated hastily, and the men advanced
to know the reason of this strange interruption. The
Raven and his companions were unarmed. The Indiana
frowned upon them, uncertain what course to pursue.

"My brothers/' the Raven said, "I am come to die.
The Raven's time is come. He has flown his last flight.
He and his brothers will die with the little White Bird.
The Raven and his friends are not dogs. They have
shed their blood against their enemies, and they do not
know how to cry out. But their time has come, they
are ready to die. But they must die before the little
White Bird. If not, her spirit will fly to the Great
Spirit, and will tell him that the Raven and his friends,
whom she had sheltered and rescued, had helped to kill
her; and the Great Spirit would shut the gates of the

OU2 ON THE PAMPAS. 253

happy hunting grounds against them. The Raven has
spoken."

There was a pause of extreme astonishment, followed
"by a clamor of voices. Those who had before espoused
the cause of the Raven again spoke out loudly, while
many of the others hesitated as to the course to be
pursued.

The Stag hastily consulted with two or three of his
principal advisers, and then moved forward, waving his
hand to command silence. His countenance was calm
and unmoved, although inwardly he was boiling with
rage at this defiance of his authority. He was too politic
a chief, however to show this. He knew that the great
majority of the tribe was with him; yet the employment
of force to drag the Raven and his companions from
their post would probably create a division in the tribe,
the final results of which none could see, and for the
consequences of which he would, in case of any reverse,
be held responsible and looked upon with disapproval by
both parties.

"The Ravens and his friends have great hearts," he
said courteously. "They are large enough to shelter the
little White Bird. Let them take her. Her life is
spared. She shall remain with our tribe."

The Raven inclined his head, and taking a knife from
a warrior near, he cut the cords which bound Ethel, and
beckoning to the Fawn, handed the astonished girl again
into her charge saying as he did so, "Stop in hut. Not
go out; go out, bad." And then, accompanied by his
friends, he retired without a word to one of their huts.

A perfect stillness had hung over the crowd during
this scene; but when it became known that Ethel was to
go off unscathed a murmur broke out from the elder
females, disappointed in their work of vengeance. But
the Stag waved his hand peremptorily, and the crowd

254 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

scattered silently to their huts, to talk over the unusual
scene that had taken place.

The Raven and his friends talked long and earnestly
together. They were in no way deceived by the appear-
ance of friendliness which the Stag had assumed. They
knew that henceforth there was bitter hatred between
them, and that their very lives were insecure. As to
Ethel, it was, they knew, only a short reprieve which
had been granted her. The Stag would not risk a divi-
sion in the tribe for her sake, nor would attempt to bring
her to a formal execution; but the first time she wan-
dered from the hut she would be found dead with a
knife in her heart.

The Raven, however, felt certain that help was at
hand. He and his friends, who knew Mr. Hardy, were
alone of the tribe convinced that a pursuit would be
attempted. The fact that no such attempt to penetrate
into the heart of the Indian country had ever been made
had lulled the rest into a feeling of absolute security.
The Raven, indeed, calculated that the pursuers must
now be closest hand, and that either on that night or
the next they would probably enter the gorge and make
the attack.

The result of the council was that he left his friends
and walked in a leisurely way back to his own hut, tak-
ing no notice of the hostile glances which some of tho
more violent of the Stag's supporters cast toward him.

On his entrance he was welcomed by his wife, a young
girl whom he had only married since his return from the
expedition, and to whom, from what he had learned of
the position of women among the whites, he allowed
more freedom of speech and action than are usually per-
mitted to Indian women. She had been one of the small
group who had pitied the white girl.

"The Raven is a great chief/' she said proudly; "he

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 255

has done well. The Mouse trembled, but she was glad
to see her lord stand forth. The Stag will strike,
though," she added anxiously. "He will look for the
blood of the Raven."

"The Stag is a great beast," the Indian said senten-
tiously; "but the Raven eat him at last."

Then, sitting down upon a pile of skins, the chief
filled his pipe, and made signs to his wife to bring fire.
Then he smoked in silence for some time until the sun
went down, and a thick darkness closed over the valley.

At length he got up, and said to his wife, "If they
ask for the Raven, say that he has just gone out; noth-
ing more. He will not return till daybreak; and remem-
ber," and he laid his hand upon her arm to impress the
caution, "whatever noise the Mouse hears in the night,
she is not to leave the hut till the Raven comes back to
her."

The girl bowed her head with an Indian woman's
unquestioning obedience; and then, drawing aside the
skin which served as a door, and listening attentively to
hear if any one were near, the Raven went out silently
into the darkness.

256 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER XVII.

RESCUED.

IN spite of their utmost efforts Mr. Hardy's party had
made slower progress than they had anticipated. Many
of the horses had broken down under fatigue; and as
they had no spare horses to replace them as the Indians
had in like case done from those they had driven off
from Mr. Mercer, they were forced to travel far more
slowly than at first. They gained upon the Indians,
however, as they could tell by the position of the camp-
ing ground for the night.

At three o'clock on the afternoon of the last day they
passed the place their enemy had left that morning; but
although they kept on until long after sunset, many of
them having led their horses all day, they were still more
than thirty miles away from the mountains among which
they knew that the Indian village was situated.

None of the Guachos had ever been there, but they
knew its situation and general features by report.
There had been no difficulty in following the trail since
they had struck it. The broad line of trodden ground
and the frequent carcasses of sheep sufficiently told the
tale.

That was a night of terrible anxiety to all. They
knew that already Ethel was in the Indian village, and
they thought with a sickening dread of what might
happen the next day. Nothing, however, could be done.
Many of the party were already exhausted by their

OU1 ON THE PAMPAS. 257

long day's walk under a burning sun. It was altogether
impossible to reach the village that night.

Before lying down for the night, Mr. Hardy asked all
the party to join in a prayer for the preservation of his
daughter during the following day; and it was a strange
and impressing sight to see the group of sunburned,
travel-worn men standing uncovered while their leader
offered up an earnest prayer.

Mr. Hardy then said for that night it was unnecessary
to keep watch as usual. The Indians had pushed on and
could no longer dread pursuit, and therefore there was
no risk of a night attack. Besides which, there was
little chance of his sleeping. This proposition was a
most acceptable one, and in a very short time a perfect
silence reigned in the camp.

Before daybreak they were again on the march, all on
foot and leading their horses, in order to spare them as
much as possible should they be required at night.
Speed was now no object. It was, they knew, hopeless
to attack in broad daylight, as the Indians would be
probably more than a match for them, and Ethel's life
would be inevitably sacrificed. They walked, there-
fore, until within six or seven miles of the gorge, nearer
than which they dared not go, lest they might be seen
by any straggling Indian.

Their halting-place was determined by finding a
stream with an abundance of fresh grass on its banks.
They dared not light a fire, but chewed some of the
tough charqui, and watched the distant cleft in the hills
which led to the ardently wished-for goal.

As evening fell they were all in the saddle, and were
pleased to find that the horses were decidedly fresher for
their rest. They did not draw rein until the ground
became stony, and they knew that they must be at the
mouth of the gorge. Then they dismounted and

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

picketed the horses. Two of the Guachoswere stationed
with them as guards, and the rest went stealthily
forward — the rockets being intrusted to the care of
Terence, who fastened them tightly together with a
cord, and then hung them by a loop, like a gun, over his
shoulder, in order that he might have his hands free.

It was still only eight o'clock — dangerously early for
a surprise; but the whole party were quite agreed to risk
everything, as no one could say in what position Ethel
might be placed, and what difference an hour might
make. Their plan was to steal quietly up to the first
hut they found, to gag its inmates, and compel one of
them, under a threat of instant death, to guide them to
the hut in which Ethel was placed.

Suddenly Mr. Hardy was startled by a dark figure
rising from a rock against which he had almost stum-
bled, with the words: "White man good. Tawaina
friend. Come to take him to child."

Then followed a few hurried questions; and no words
can express the delight and gratitude of Mr. Hardy and
his sons, and the intense satisfaction of the others, on
finding that Ethel was alive and for the present free
from danger.

It was agreed to wait now for two hours, to give time
for the Indians to retire to rest; and while they waited
the Raven told them all that had happened up to the
arrival at the village, passing over the last day's pro-
ceedings by saying briefly that Ethel had run a great
risk of being put to death, but that a delay had been
obtained by her friends. Having told his story, he said,
"Tawaina friend to great white chief. Gave signal with
arrow; save little White Bird to-day. But Tawaina
Indian — not like see Indian killed. White chief promise
not kill Indian women and children?"

Mr. Hardy assured the Indian that they had no
thought of killing women and children.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 259

"If can take little White Bird without waking village,
not kill men?" Tawaina asked again.

"We do not want to wake the village if we can help it,
Tawaina; but I do not see any chance of escaping with-
out a fight. Our horses are all dead beat, and the
Indians will easily overtake us, even if we get a night's
start."

"Mustn't go out on plain," the Raven said earnestly.
"If go out on plain, all killed. Indian two hundred
and fifty braves— eat up white men on plain."

"I am afraid that is true enough, Tawaina, though we
shall prove very tough morsels. Still we should fight at
a fearful disadvantage in the open. But what are we
to do?"

"Come back to mouth of cafion — hold that; can keep
Indians off as long as like. Indians have to make
peace."

"Capital!" Mr. Hardy said delightedly; for he had
reviewed the position with great apprehension, as he had
not seen how it would be possible to make good their
retreat on their tired horses in the teeth of the Indians.
"The very thing! As you say, we can hold the gorge
for a month if necessary, and sooner or later they will
be sick of it, and agree to let us retreat in quiet. Be-
sides, a week's rest would set our horses up again, and
then we could make our retreat in spite of them,"

"One more thing," the Raven said. "When great
chief got little White Bird safe, Tawaina go away — not
fight one^way, not fight other way. When meet again,
white chief not talk about to-night. Not great Indian
know Tawaina white chief's friend."

"You can rely upon us all, Tawaina. They shall never
learn from us of your share in this affair. And now I
think that it is time for us to be moving forward. It
will be past ten o'clock before we are there. ?>

260 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Very quietly the troop crept along, Tawaina leading
the way, until he approached closely to the village,,
Here they halted for a moment.

"Only six of us will go in," Mr. Hardy said; "there
will be less chance of detection — Jamieson, Percy, Her-
ries, my boys, and myself. The others take post close
to the hut we see ahead. If you find that we are discov-
ered, be in readiness to support us. And, Farquhar,
two or three of you get matches ready, and stick a blue
light into the straw roof of the hut. We must have
light, or we lose all the advantage of our firearms. Be-
sides, as we retreat we shall be in darkness, while they
will be in the glare."

Thus speaking, Mr. Hardy followed his guide, the
men he had selected treading cautiously in his rear.
Presently they stopped before one of the huts, and
pointing to the door, Tawaina said, "Little White Bird
there;" and then gliding away, he was lost in the
darkness.

Mr. Hardy cautiously pushed aside the skin and
entered, followed by his friends. It was perfectly dark,
and they stood for a moment uncertain what to do.
Then they heard a low voice saying, "Papa, is that you?"
while at the same instant they saw a gleam of light in
the other corner of the tent, and heard a rustling noise,
and they knew that an Indian had cut a slit in the hide
walls and had escaped; and as Mr. Hardy pressed his
child to his heart, a terrific war-whoop rose on the air
behind the hut.

"Come," Mr. Hardy said, "keep together, and make
a run of it."

Ethel had lain down without taking off even her shoes,
so strong had been her hope of her father's arrival. She
was therefore no impediment to the speed of their
retreat. For a short distance they were unopposed.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 261

The Indians, indeed, rushed from thek huts like swarms
of bees disturbed by an intruder. Ignorant of the
nature of the danger, and unable to see its cause, all was
for a minute wild confusion; and then guided by the
war-whoop of the Indian who had given the alarm, all
hurried toward the spot, and as they did so, several saw
the little party of whites. Loud whoops gave the inti-
mation of this discovery and a rush toward them was
made.

"Now, your revolvers/' Mr. Hardy said. "We are
nearly out of the village."

Not as yet, however, were the Indians gathered thickly
enough to stop them. A few who attempted to throw
themselves in the way were instantly shot down, and in
less time than it has occupied to read this description
they reached the end of the village. As they did so a
bright flame shot up from the furthest hut, and the rest
of the party rushed out and joined them. The Indians
in pursuit paused at seeing this fresh accession of
strength to their enemies, and then, as they were joined
by large numbers, and the flame shooting up brightly
enabled them to see how small was the body of whites,
they rushed forward again with fierce yells.

But the whites were by this time a hundred and fifty
yards away, and were already disappearing in the gloom.

"Stop!" Mr. Hardy cried. "Steady with your rifles!
Each man single out an Indian. Fire!"

A yell of rage broke from the Indians as fourteen or
fifteen of their number fell, and a momentary pause
took place again. And then, as they were again rein-
forced, they continued the pursuit.

But the two hundred yards which the whites had
gained was a long start in the half a mile's distance to
be traversed, and the whites well knew that they were
running for their lives; for once surrounded in the plain,
their case was hopeless.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Well was it, then, that Ethel was so accustomed to an
out-of-door life. Hope and fear lent speed to to her
feet, and running between her father and brothers, she
was able to keep up a speed equal to their own.

Scarce a word was spoken, as with clinched teeth and
beating hearts they dashed along. Only once Mr.
Jamieson said, "Can Ethel keep up?" and she gasped
out "Yes."

The whites had this great advantage in the race, that
they knew that they had only half a mile in all to run,
and therefore put out their best speed; whereas, although
a few of the Indians saw the importance of overtaking the
fugitives on the plain, the greater portion believed that
their prey was safe in their hands, and made no great effort
to close with them at once. The whites, too, had the ad-
vantage of being accustomed to walking exercise, whereas
the Indians, almost living on horseback, are seldom in
the habit of using their feet. Consequently the whites
reached the narrow mouth of the gorge a full hundred
and fifty yards ahead of the main body of the pursuers,
although a party of their fastest runners was not more
than half that distance in their rear.

There was a general ejaculation of thankfulness as the
parties now halted and turned to face the enemy.

It was now that the full advantage of Mr. Hardy's
precaution of firing the Indian hut had become manifest.

The fire had communicated to the next two or three
dwellings, and a broad flame rose up, against the glare of
which the Indians stood out distinctly, while the whites
were posted in deep gloom.

"Now, boys," Mr. Hardy said, "pick off the first lot
with your carbines, while we load our rifles. Ethel, get
behind that rock. Take shelter all till the last moment.
The arrows will soon be among us."

Steadily as if firing at a mark the boys discharged

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 263

their five shorts each;. and as the enemy was not more
than fifty yards off, every shot told.

The rest of the leading band hesitated, and throwing
themselves down, waited until the others came up.
There was a momentary pause, then a volley of arrows
and musket balls was discharged in the direction of their
hidden foe, and then, with a wild yell, the whole mass
charged.

Not till they were within thirty yards was there a
return shot fired; but as they entered the narrow gorge,
the whites leaped to their feet with a cheer, and poured
in a volley from twenty-four rifles.

The effect was terrible; and those in front who were
unwounded hesitated, but, pressed on from behind, they
again rushed forward. Then, as they closed, a desperate
combat began.

The boys had hastily handed their carbines to Ethel to
fit in the spare chamber, and had taken their place by
their father's side. The gorge was so narrow that there
was not room to stand abreast, and by previous arrange-
ment those who had no revolvers placed themselves in
front, clubbing their rifles, while those with revolvers
fired between them.

Mr. Percy, one of the Jamiesons, and Herries stood a
pace or two in the rear, with their revolvers in hand, as
a reserve.

For a few minutes the contest was terrific. The rush
of the Indians partially broke the line, and the whirl of
gleaming hatchets, the heavy crash of the blows with
the rifles, the sharp incessant cracks of the revolvers,
the yells of the Indians, the short shouts of encourage-
ment from the English, and the occasional Irish cry of
Terence, made up a total of confusion and noise which
was bewildering.

Scarce a shot of the whites was thrown away, and a
heap of dead lay across the pass.

264 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Still the Indians pressed on.

The fight was more silent now, the cracks of the
revolvers had ceased, and the whites were fighting
silently and desperately with their rifles. They had not
given way a foot, but the short panting breath told that
the tremendous exertion was telling, as they stood in a
line at short intervals, and their weapons rose and fell
with a force and might that the Indian hatchets could
seldom stem or avert.

Not bloodless on their part had the fight been up to
this time. Most of them had received gashes more or
less severe, and Martinez the Guacho and Cook lay dead
at their feet.

Charley and Hubert, upon emptying their revolvers,
had fallen back and taken their carbines, and now stood
with the reserve upon a flat rock a few paces in the rear,
all burning with impatience to take part in the strife.

At this moment they were joined by the two Guachos
who had been left with the horses, but who now, hear-
ing the firing, had arrived to take part in the fray.

At last Mr. Hardy judged that the time had come,
and shouted:

"Take aim into the middle of the mass, and fire as
quick as you can, then all charge together. Now!"

In less than half a minute the four barrels of the
Guachos' guns, and the thirty shots from the revolvers,
had been discharged into the densely packed throng;
then the seven men leaped from the rock, and with a
cheer the whites threw themselves upon the Indians,
already recoiling and panic-struck by the tremendous
and deadly fire.

The Indians in front, surprised and confused, were
mown down by the long rifles like grass before the
mower, and those behind, after one moment's hesitation,
broke and fled; in another two minutes the fight was
over, and the Indians iu full flight to their village.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 265

After a few words of hearty congratulation the whites
threw themselves on the ground, panting and exhausted,
after their tremendous exertions.

Their first care, upon recovering a little, was to load
their revolvers; as for the rifles, there was not one, with
the exception of those of the three men who had formed
the reserve, and the boys' carbines, which were not dis-
abled. The stocks were broken, the hammers wrenched
off, and the barrels twisted and bent.

The party now crowded round Ethel, with whom not
a single word had yet been exchanged since her rescue,
and warm and hearty were the congratulations and wel-
come bestowed upon her. There was then an examina-
tion of wounds.

These had been many, and in some cases severe. Mr.
Farqnhar was completely disabled by a deep wound in
the shoulder. Mr. Percy had received a fearful gash on
the arm. Charley had one ear nearly cut off, and the
side of his face laid completely open with a sweeping
blow. Four others were seriously wounded, and six had
less important wounds. All, however., were too much
elated with their success to make anything but light of
their hurts.

" You seem fated to have your beauty spoiled, Charley,"
Mr. Hardy said, as he bandaged up his son's face. "A
few more fights, and you will be as seasoned with scars
as any Chelsea pensioner."

Charley joined in the general laugh at his own expense.

"Yes, papa, if I go on like this, I shall certainly get
rid of my looking-glass."

"You have not lost the rockets, I hope, Terence?"
Mr. Hardy asked.

"Sure and I've not, your honor. I put them down
behind a big rock before the little shindy began."
- "We will fire them off," Mr. Hardy said. "They will

OUT ON THB PAMPAS.

Heighten the impression, and make the Indians more
anxious to come to terms, when they see that we can
reach their village. We will not let them off all at once;
but as we have four of each sort, we will send oil a pair
every half hour or so, as they may think, if we fire them
all at once and then stop, that we have no m-ore leffc.
We may as well give them a few shots, too, with our
carbines and the rifles that remain serviceable. They
will carry as far as half a mile if we give them elevation
enough, and it is well to impress them as much as
possible."

Mr. Hardy's suggestion was carried out. The first
signal rocket showed the village crowded with Indians,
over whose heads the cracked rocket slowly whizzed.
The light of the next rocket did not disclose a single
person, and it was apparent that the place was deserted.
The third rocket happened to strike one of the roofs,
and exploding there, set the thatch on fire.

"Good!" Mr. Percy said. "We shall have them ask-
ing for terms to-morrow."

Four of the unwounded men were now placed as a
guard at the mouth of the gorge, the others retiring
further into it, so as to be beyond the dead Indians, who
lay there literally in piles.

The morning broke over the white men occupied in
the burial of their two fallen companions, and upon the
Indians assembled at a short distance beyond the village.
The men sat upon the ground in sullen despair; the
women wailed and wrung their hands.

Now that it was day, they could see how terrible had
been their loss. Upward of sixty of their number were
missing. The Stag had fallen, as had several of the
most valiant braves of the tribe.

Presently the Raven rose from the midst of the war-
riors. His absence the preceding evening had not bean,

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 26?

noticed; and although all knew that he had "taken no
part in the fight, this was considered natural enough,
v/hen his advice to give up the captive had been rejected.

"My brothers," he began, "the Great Spirit is very
angry. He has hidden his face from his children.
Yesterday he blinded their eyes and made them foolish;
last night he made them as water before the white men.
Why were the ears of the chiefs closed to the words of
the Raven? If the Raven had set out with the little
White Bird, the great white chief would have been glad,
and the hatchet would have been buried in peace. But
the chiefs would not hear the words of the Raven. The
Stag said, Kill! and the war chiefs shouted, Kill! and
where are they now? Their wigwams are empty, and
their women have none to bring in the deer for food.
The Great Spirit is angry."

The Raven then took his seat; but, as he anticipated,
no one rose to speak after him. The depression was too
general; and the fact that, had the Raven's advice been
followed, the evils would have been avoided, was too
manifest for any one to attempt to utter a word.

After a profound silence of some minutes' duration,
the Raven again rose.

"What will my brothers do? The flying fires will
burn down our village, and there is no retreat. The
guns that shoot without loading carry very far. We are
as water before them. We are in the hands of the white
chief, and our bones will feed the crows. What will my
brothers do?"

There was still a profound silence, and then he con-
tinued: "The Raven is a great chief, and he will tell
them what to do. The Raven has stood by the side of
the little White Bird, and the great white chief will
listen to his voice. He will say, Let there be peace
between us. The men who would have harmed the

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

Little White Bird are dead; there is no more cause of
quarrel. Let us bury the hatchet. Take horses and
cattle for your journey, and forgive us if we have done
v/rong. If the white men were on the plains, the Raven,
would say, Let my young men charge; but they hold
the pass, and the guns that shoot without loading are
too strong. Have I spoken well?*'

There was a low murmur of applause. The feeling
that the position of the white men was impregnable was
general; and they all felt convinced that those terrible
enemies would devise some unknown scheme which
would end in the total annihilation of the tribe.

The Raven's proposition was therefore unanimously
assented to.

The Raven then laid aside his arms, and attended by
six of the principal chiefs, carrying green- boughs in
token of amity, advanced toward the mouth of the
gorge. Mr. Hardy, with five of the whites, and with
Perez to interpret, advanced to meet him.

When the two groups met the Raven commenced
gravely, in the Indian language: "The white chief of
the flying fire is mighty, and the Great Spirit has blinded
his children. They carried off the little White Bird, bub
they did not harm her. Bad men would have harmed
her, but the Raven stood by her side. The great white
chief has taken back his little White Bird, and he has
killed the men whom the Great Spirit blinded. Why
should there be any more war? The Indians are brave;
they have cattle, and sheep, and water. They can live
out of reach of the white chiefs guns, and can fight if
the white chief comes out against them. The white
chief is strong, and he can defend the pass, but he can-
not venture out to attack. They are equal. There ia
no cause of quarrel any longer. Let us bury the hatchet.
The white chief's young men can take horses — for the

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 269

Indians have many — to take them back to their homes.
They can take cattle to eat. Let there be peace."

This address of the Raven was a very politic one. He
Already knew that Mr. Hardy was willing fco grant terms,
but he wished to show the other chiefs that he supported
the honor of the tribe by boasting of their power and
resources, and by making the peace as upon equal terms.

When the Guacho had [translated their proposal, Mr.
Hardy spoke, using the phraseology which would be
most intelligible to the Indians.

"The Eaven is a great chief; he has spoken wisely.
The little White Bird has sung in the white chief's ear
that the Kaven stood by her side when bad Indiana
would have hurt herT The bad Indians are dead. The
Great Spirit frowned upon them. The white chief has
no quarrel with the Raven and his friends. Let there
be peace."

A general expression of satisfaction pervaded both
pafties when it was known that peace was arranged;
and one of each side hurrying back with the news, the
rest went into the village, where, sitting down before
the principal hut, the pipe of peace was solemnly
smoked.

The two parties then mingled amicably, mutually
pleased at the termination to the hostilities; and no one
would have guessed that a few hours before they had
met in deadly strife. The Raven courteously invited
the whites to stop for a night at the village; but the
invitation was declined, as all were very anxious to
return home. Bancroft Library

Some Indians were dispatched by the Raven, who had
now naturally assumed the position of chief of the tribe,
to catch horses to take the place of those which had
broken down upon the journey. The offer of cattle was
declined, as they were confident that they should be able

270 OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

to procure game. They took, however, as large a supply
of fresh meat as their horses could carry.

Mr. Hardy saw that the Raven wished to avoid any
private conversation with him. He therefore drew the
boys aside, and made a proposal to them, to which they
cordially agreed.

As the horses were brought up, and the whole tribe
assembled, he advanced toward the Raven with one of
the boys' carbines in his hand.

"The Raven is a great chief/* he said. "He has a
great heart, and stood by the side of the little White
Bird. But he has not a good rifle. The white chief
gives him a rifle which will shoot many times. Let him
promise that lie will never use it in fight against the
white men."

This gift the Raven received with great pleasure, and
readily gave the required promise, adding, on behalf of
Ms tribe, that the hatchet which was buried should never
&gain be dug up against the whites. An extra chamber
and all the spare ammunition was given to him, and a
further supply promised when he chose to send for it;
instructions were also given to him in the use of the
T/eapon, then a solemn farewell was exchanged, and the
party of whites turned their facesjoward home.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

CHAPTER XVIII.

AND LAST.

WITH this memorable conflict, and the lesson taught
to the Indians, that even in the heart of their own coun-
try they could not consider themselves secure from
retaliations and from the vengeance of the white settlers,
the Indian troubles of the Hardys were over. Occasion-
ally, indeed, raids were made upon the outlying settle-
ments, and the young Hardys were summoned to beat off
their savage foes. Upon the estate of Mount Pleasant,
however, hostile foot was not again placed. Occasion-
ally the Raven, with two or three of his braves, would
pay a visit for a day or two, and depart with presents of
blankets, and such things as his tribe needed. Upon
the first of these visits Hubert questioned him respect-
ing the bird whose remarkable feather had been the
means of saving Ethel's life. At his next visit the chief
brought two very perfect skins of the bird. It turned
out, to Hubert's great delight, to be a new species; and
one of them is now, with many other hitherto unknown
birds which had fallen to his gun, in the British Museum,
with the specific names of Hardiensis, in compliment to
their discoverer. The Raven's tribe honorably per-
formed their agreement with Mr. Hardy, and never
joined in any subsequent attacks upon the whites.
Being much weakened by the loss of so many of their
fighting men, they would probably have been extermi-
nated by hostile tribes; but Mr. Hardy subsequently fur-

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

nished them with a supply of military muskets, which
he had bought chiefly for the purpose, together with
ammunition, and they were then able to oppose a reso-
lute front to their enemies, and to support themselves
by hunting. The Raven is now one of the most power-
ful and respected chiefs upon the plains of the pampas.

The return of the expedition, after the rescue of
Ethel and the chastisement of the Indians in the heart
of their own country, caused quite a sensation through-
out the Republic. Of Mrs. Hardy's and Maud's joy we
need not speak, but the adventure was considered a mat-
ter of congratulation and joy throughout the whole
district. It was felt that a signal blow had been struck
to the Indians, and that for a long time life and property
would be secure. There was, in consequence, quite a
rush to the neighborhood and land was taken up and
occupied in all directions.

It was well for Mrs. Hardy and the girls that they
were to sail by the next mail for England. The effect
of those terrible four days upon Ethel, and of that week
cf anxiety upon her mother and sister, had so shaken
them that the change, even if it had not been previously
determined upon, would have been imperatively neces-
sary. It is not too much to say that Mrs. Hardy and
Maud had suffered even more than Ethel. She at least-
had known and seen her danger, and was sustained,
except during that morning when she was fastened to
the stake, with a strong hope and belief of rescue.
Those left behind could do nothing but picture up
scenes of horror, and pass their time in alternately pray-
ing and weeping. They were all sadly shaken and
nervous during the short time that remained for them
at Mount Pleasant; but the sea voyage and the fresh
breezes soon brought health and color into their cheeks,
and none of them ever after felt any bad effects from
that terrible week.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

And now our story is drawing to a close. The stormy-
period of the Mount Pleasant settlement was over. The
hard work, the difficulties and dangers of the life of a
new settler on the extreme edge of civilization, had been
passed, and nothing remained but to continue to devote
attention and energy to the estate, and to reap the fruits
of the labor.

For two years after the departure of his wife and
daughters Mr. Hardy remained at his post. It was now
nearly six years since he had left England, and he longed
to return to it. He felt that he could do so without any
uneasiness as to the future. Eosario was, according to
his anticipation, rising into a large and important town;
the country was fairly settled for leagues beyond the
estate; land was rapidly rising in value; and there was
now no fear whatever of Indian attacks. His flocks and
herds had multiplied greatly, and were doubling every
two years. The income obtained by the sale of cattle
fatted on the alfalfa, and upon the sale of wool and
other farm produce, was considerable. The dairy alone
brought in a large yearly amount. Charley was now
twenty-two, Hubert a year younger; both were as capa-
ble of managing the estate as he was himself.

He one day, therefore, unfolded his plans to them.
"As you knows boys, I am going to England shortly;
and although I shall perhaps now and then come ovei*
here, I shall make England my permanent home. You
boys will therefore jointly manage the estate. The
income this year will reach six thousand dollars, and
would be much more did we not keep the greater portion
of our animals to increase our stock. I have now twelve
thousand tire hundred dollars in the bank. After the
busy life I have led here, I could not remain inactive.
My present intention is to take a large farm upon a long
lease with the option of .purchase. My object will be t<*

OUT ON THE PAMPAS.

obtain a farm of large acreage and poor land, but
improvable by better drainage and an outlay of capital.
I shall risk my twelve thousand five hundred dollars in
this, and also the income I draw from here for the next
two years. The profits will increase each year. I shall
therefore in two years have sunk twenty-five thousand
dollars in the farm — a portion being devoted to building
a suitable house. You will, of course, during the two
years spend whatever money you may require; but, in
fact, it is impossible for you to spend much money here.
At the end of two years I propose that first you, Charley,
as the elder, shall come home to England for a year,
and then that Hubert shall take his turn. You will
theia stay a year here together, and again have each a
year in England, and so on regularly. From the end of
this two years I shall draw half the income of this estate,
ancl you will take the other half between you, to invest
or use as you may think fit. At the end of six years I
calculate that the estate will be stocked with as many
cattle and sheep as it can support. Fifteen thousand
cattle, say, and thirty thousand sheep. You will then
sell all your annual increase, and the profits will be
greater every year. At the end of ten years from this
time, if, as I think probable, you will have had enough
of this life, we will sell the estate. By that time it will
be the center of a populous district, the land will be
greatly increased in value, and will be equal to any in
the country — so much so, indeed, that it will probably be
out of the question to find a purchaser for the whole.
We could therefore break it up to suit purchasers, divid-
ing it into lots of one, two, three, or four square miles,
or a square league, and dividing the stock in proportion.
The house would, of course, go with the arable land and
a mile or two of pasture beyond it. My share of the
yearly income I shall devote to buying my estate.

OUT ON THE PAMPAS. 275

the price is fifty thouand dollars. This I shall, with my
income from here and my income from the estate itself,
probably be able to make in ten years. The estate, with
the twenty-five thousand dollars I propose to risk in drain-
age, etc., ought then to be worth one hundred thousand
dollars. The value of this estate of fifty thousand acres,
with the flocks and herds, ought to be at least double
that amount; so that at the end of ten years I shall be a
rich. man. You, with care, can certainly save twenty-five
thousand dollars each in the ten years, and will receive
another fifty thousand dollars each as your share of the
estate. You will consequently, boys, at the age of
thirty-one and thirty-^wo, be able to settle down in
England in very comfortable circumstances. Your
sisters will of course be provided for out of my share.
Do you approve of my plans?"

The boys warmly expressed their satisfaction at the
plan, and their gratitude to their father for his
intentions.

And so things were carried out.

Six months after Mr. Hardy's arrival in England, the
boys heard of Maud's marriage to Mr. Cooper, now, by
the death of his father, a wealthy country gentleman.
Charley, during his first visit to England, also married
— an example which Hubert followed the next year.

The two now took it bv turn to manage the estate—
the one in England always passing a considerable portion
of his time at Mr, Hardy's, and spending the rest in
traveling.

Ethel was married the year after Hubert to a rising
barrister in London.

Everything prospered at Mount Pleasant, and at the
sale it was broken up into lots and fetched rather a
larger sum than Mr. Hardy had calculated.

Mr. Hardy's own plan had been fully carried out, but

N TRE

by the end of the ten years he began to wish for a quiet
town life. He therefore made an arrangement with
Charley, whereby the latter, who had obtained some
money with his wife, has taken his place as master of
the estate, and has settled down into the life of a coun-
try gentleman, which exactly suits him.

Hubert lives in London. His income is sufficient for
fcis wants, he has become a member of a number of
scientific societies, and his collection of the fauna of the
pampas of America is considered to be unequaled.

The girls are very happy with the men of their choice;
1-zd. Mr, and Mrs. Hardy have always some of their
ehilflYan or grandchildren staying with them, and often
•.ise the young ones with tales of how their fathers or
fought the Indians on the pampas of South