LAKE SALINAS terminates the cluster of lagoons that adjoin the Ventana and Guamini mountains. Numerous expeditions are made to this place to obtain supplies of salt, with which these waters are strongly impregnated. But now the water had evaporated under the heat of the sun, and the lake was only a vast glittering basin.
When Thalcave announced the presence of a drinkable liquid at Lake Salinas, he meant the streams of fresh water that flow from it in many places. But at this time its affluents were as dry as itself. The burning sun had absorbed everything. Hence, the consternation was general when the thirsty party arrived at the parched shores of Lake Salinas.
It was necessary to take counsel. The little water in the leathern bottles was half spoiled, and could not quench their thirst, which began to make itself acutely felt. Hunger and fatigue gave place to this imperative want. A “roukah,” a kind of upright tent, of leather, which stood in a hollow, and had been abandoned by the natives, served as a refuge for the travelers, while their horses, stretched on the muddy shores of the lake, ate the saline plants and dry reeds, although reluctantly.
When each had sat down in the roukah, Paganel asked Thalcave’s advice as to what was best to be done. A rapid conversation, of which Glenarvan caught a few words, ensued between the geographer and the Indian. Thalcave spoke calmly, while Paganel gesticulated for both. This consultation lasted a few minutes, and then the Patagonian folded his arms.
“What did he say?” inquired Glenarvan. “I thought I understood him to advise us to separate.”
“Yes, into two parties,” replied Paganel. “Those of us whose horses are so overcome with fatigue and thirst that they can scarcely move will continue the journey as well as possible. Those who are better mounted, on the contrary, will ride in advance, and reconnoitre the Guamini River, which empties into Lake San Lucas. If there is sufficient water there, they will wait for their companions on the banks of the stream; if not, they will return to save the rest a useless journey.”
“And then?” asked Tom Austin.
“Then we must go southward to the first branches of the Ventana mountains, where the rivers are numerous.”
“The plan is good,” replied Glenarvan, “and we will follow it without delay. My horse has not suffered so much yet from want of water, and I offer to accompany Thalcave.”
“Oh, my lord, take me!” cried Robert, as if a pleasure excursion were in question.
“But can you keep up with us, my child?”
“Yes, I have a good beast that asks nothing better than to go in advance. Will you, my lord? I beseech you!”
“Come then, my boy,” said Glenarvan, delighted not to be separated from Robert. “And we three,” he added, “will be very stupid if we do not discover some clear and fresh stream.”
“And I?” said Paganel.
“Oh, you, my dear Paganel!” replied the major, “you will remain with the reserve detachment. You know the course, the Guamini River, and the Pampas, too well to abandon us. Neither Wilson, Mulready, nor myself are capable of rejoining Thalcave at his rendezvous, unless we advance confidently under the guidance of the brave Jacques Paganel.”
“I resign,” said the geographer, very much flattered to obtain a higher command.
“But no distractions!” added the major. “Do not lead us where we have nothing to do, and bring us back to the shores of the Pacific!”
“You would deserve it, my intolerable major,” said Paganel, smiling. “But tell me, my dear Glenarvan, how will you understand Thalcave’s language?”
“I suppose,” answered Glenarvan, “that the Patagonian and I will not need to talk. Besides, with the few Spanish words that I know, I shall succeed well enough on an emergency in giving him my opinion and understanding his.”
“Go then, my worthy friend,” replied Paganel.
“Let us eat first,” said Glenarvan, “and sleep till the hour of departure.”
They ate supper without drink, which was rather unrefreshing, and then fell asleep. Paganel dreamed of torrents, cascades, streams, rivers, ponds, brooks, nay even full bottles, in short, of everything which generally contains water. It was a real nightmare.
The next morning at six o’clock the horses were saddled. They gave them the last drink of water left, which they took with more dislike than pleasure, for it was very nauseating. The three horsemen then mounted.
“Au revoir!” said the major, Austin, Wilson, and Mulready.
Soon the Patagonian, Glenarvan, and Robert (not without a certain throbbing of the heart) lost sight of the detachment confided to the sagacity of the geographer.
Thalcave was right in first proceeding towards the Guamini, since this stream lay on the prescribed course, and was the nearest. The three horses galloped briskly forward. These excellent beasts perceived, doubtless, by instinct, whither their masters were guiding them. Thaouka, especially, showed a spirit that neither fatigue nor thirst could overcome. The other horses followed, at a slower pace, but incited by his example.
The Patagonian frequently turned his head to look at Robert Grant, and, seeing the young boy firm and erect, in an easy and graceful position, testified his satisfaction by a word of encouragement.
“Bravo, Robert!” said Glenarvan. “Thalcave seems to congratulate you. He praises you, my boy!”
“And why, my lord?”
“Because of the way you ride.”
“Oh, I merely keep firm; that is all,” replied Robert, who blushed with pleasure at hearing himself complimented.
“That is the main point, Robert,” said Glenarvan; “but you are too modest, and I am sure you cannot fail to become an accomplished equestrian.”
“Well,” said Robert, “but what will papa say, who wishes to make a sailor of me?”
“The one does not interfere with the other. If all horsemen do not make good sailors, all sailors may certainly make good horsemen. To ride on the yards, you must learn to keep yourself firm. As for knowing how to manage your horse, that comes more easily.”
“Poor father!” exclaimed Robert; “how he will thank you when you have found him!” And, so saying, he took his lordship’s hand and pressed it to his lips.
“You love him well, Robert?”
“Yes, my lord; he was so kind to sister and me. He thought only of us, and every voyage brought us a memento of the countries he visited, and, what was better, tender caresses and kind words, on his return. Ah! you will love him too, when you know him! Mary resembles him. He has a sweet voice like her. It is singular for a sailor, is it not?”
“Yes, very singular, Robert,” said Glenarvan.
“I see him still,” replied the boy, as if speaking to himself. “Good and brave papa! He rocked me to sleep on his knees, when I was little, and kept humming an old Scottish song which is sung around the lakes of our country. I sometimes recall the air, but indistinctly. How we loved him, my lord! Well, I think one must be very young to love his father well.”
“And old to reverence him, my child,” replied Glenarvan, quite moved by the words that came from this young heart.
During this conversation, their horses had relaxed their pace and fallen behind the other; but Thalcave called them, and they resumed their former gait. It was soon evident, however, that, with the exception of Thaouka, the horses could not long maintain this speed. At noon it was necessary to give them an hour’s rest.
Glenarvan grew uneasy. The signs of dryness did not diminish, and the want of water might result in disastrous consequences. Thalcave said nothing, but probably thought that if the Guamini was dry it would then be time to despair, if indeed an Indian’s heart has ever experienced such an emotion.
They therefore kept on, and by use of whip and spur the horses were induced to continue their journey, but they could not quicken their pace. Thalcave might easily have gone ahead, for in a few hours Thaouka could have carried him to the banks of the stream. He doubtless thought of it, but probably did not like to leave his two companions alone in the midst of this desert, and, that he might not outstrip them, he forced Thaouka to lessen his speed. It was not, however, without much resistance, prancing and neighing, that Thalcave’s horse consented to keep pace with the others. It was not so much the strength as the voice of his master which restrained him; the Indian actually talked to his horse; and the animal, if he did not answer, at least comprehended him. The Patagonian must have used excellent arguments, for, after “discussing” some time, Thaouka yielded, and obeyed his master’s commands.
But, if Thaouka understood Thalcave, Thalcave had none the less understood Thaouka. The intelligent animal, through his superior instincts, had perceived a moisture in the air. He inhaled it eagerly, and kept moving his tongue, as if it were steeped in a grateful liquid. The Patagonian could not be deceived; water was not far distant.
He therefore encouraged his companions by explaining the impatience of his horse, which the others were not long in understanding. They made a final effort, and galloped after the Indian.
About three o’clock a bright line appeared in a hollow of the plain. It trembled under the rays of the sun.
“Water!” cried Glenarvan.
“Water, yes, water!” cried Robert.
They had no more need to urge their horses. The poor beasts, feeling their strength renewed, rushed forward with an irresistible eagerness. In a few moments they had reached the Guamini River, and, saddled as they were, plunged to their breasts into the cooling stream. Their masters imitated their example, without reluctance, and took an afternoon bath which was as healthful as it was pleasant.
“Ah, how good it is!” said Robert, as he quenched his thirst in the middle of the river.
“Be moderate, my boy,” said Glenarvan, who did not set a good example.
Nothing was heard but the sound of rapid drinking. As for Thalcave, he drank quietly, without hurrying, long and deeply, till they might perhaps fear that the stream would be drained.
“Well,” said Glenarvan, “our friends will not be disappointed in their expectations. They are sure, on arriving at the Guamini, to find an abundance of clear water, if Thalcave leaves any!”
“But could we not go to meet them?” asked Robert. “We could spare them several hours of anxiety.”
“Doubtless, my boy; but how carry the water? Wilson has charge of the water-bottles. No, it is better to wait, as we agreed. Calculating the necessary time, and the slow pace of the horses, our friends will be here at night. Let us, then, prepare them a safe shelter and a good repast.”
Thalcave had not waited for Glenarvan’s orders to search for a place to encamp. He had very fortunately found on the banks of the river a “ramada,” a kind of inclosure designed for a cattle-fold and shut in on three sides. The situation was excellent for the purpose, so long as one did not fear to sleep in the open air; and that was the least anxiety of Thalcave’s companions. Thus they did not seek a better retreat, but stretched themselves on the ground in the sun to dry their water-soaked garments.
“Well, since here is shelter,” said Glenarvan, “let us think of supper. Our friends must be satisfied with the couriers whom they have sent forward; and, if I am not greatly mistaken, they will have no reason to complain. I think an hour’s hunting will not be time lost. Are you ready, Robert?”
“Yes, my lord,” replied he, with gun in hand.
Glenarvan had conceived this idea because the banks of the Guamini seemed to be the haunt of the game of the surrounding plains. “Tinamous,” a kind of partridge, plovers called “teru-teru,” yellow rails, and water-fowl of magnificent green were seen rising in flocks. As for quadrupeds, they did not make their appearance; but Thalcave, pointing to the tall grass and thick coppice, explained that they were hidden there. The hunters had only to take a few steps to find themselves in one of the best game-coverts in the world.
They began to hunt, therefore, and, disdaining the feathered tribe, their first attempts were made upon the large game of the Pampas. Soon hares and guanacos, like those that had attacked them so violently on the Andes, started up before them by hundreds; but these very timid animals fled with such swiftness that it was impossible to come within gun-shot. The hunters, therefore, attacked other game that was less fleet. A dozen partridges and rails were brought down, and Glenarvan shot a peccary, which was very good eating.
In less than half an hour they had obtained without difficulty all the game they needed. Robert captured a curious animal called an armadillo, which was covered with a sort of helmet of movable bony pieces and measured a foot and a half in length. It was very fat, and would be an excellent dish, as the Patagonian said; while Robert was proud of his success.
As for Thalcave, he showed his companions a “nandou” hunt. This bird, peculiar to the Pampas, is a kind of ostrich, whose swiftness is marvelous.
The Indian did not try to decoy so nimble an animal, but urged his horse to a gallop, straight towards the bird, so as to overtake it at once, for, if the first attack should fail, the nandou would soon fatigue both horse and rider with its giddy backward and forward movements.
Thalcave, arriving at a proper distance, launched his “bolas” with a strong hand, and so skillfully that they twisted about the legs of the ostrich and paralyzed its efforts. In a few moments it lay on the ground. The Indian soon captured his prize and contributed it to the common repast. The string of partridges, Thalcave’s ostrich, Glenarvan’s peccary, and Robert’s armadillo were brought back to camp. The ostrich and the peccary were immediately stripped of their skin and cut into small slices. As for the armadillo, it is a dainty animal which carries its roasting dish with it, and it was, accordingly, placed in its own bony covering on the glowing embers.
The three hunters were satisfied with the partridges for supper, and kept the rounds of beef for their friends. This repast was washed down with clear water, which was then considered superior to all the wines in the world.
The horses were not forgotten. A great quantity of dry fodder, piled in the ramada, served them for food and bedding.
When everything was ready, Glenarvan, Robert, and the Indian wrapped themselves in their ponchos, and stretched their limbs on a bundle of alfafares, the usual bed of the hunters of the Pampas.