Martin Rattler - Robert Michael Ballantyne (best ereader for graphic novels txt) 📗

fiery charger; and, in the exultation of health, and strength, and liberty, they swept over the green sward of the undulating campos, as light as the soft wind that fanned their bronzed cheeks, as gay in heart as the buzzing insects that hovered above the brilliant flowers.

"Oh, this is best of all!" shouted Martin, turning his sparkling eyes to Barney, as he reined up his steed after a gallop that caused its nostril to expand and its eye to dilate.

"There's nothing like it! A fiery charger that can't and _won't_ tire, and a glorious sweep of plain like that! Huzza! whoop!" And loosening the rein of his willing horse, away he went again in a wild headlong career.

"Och, boy, pull up, or ye'll kill the baste!" cried Barney, who thundered along at Martin's side enjoying to the full the spring of his powerful horse; for Barney had spent the last farthing of his salary on the two best steeds the country could produce, being determined, as he said, to make the last overland voyage on clipper-built animals, which, he wisely concluded, would fetch a good price at the end of the journey. "Pull up! d'ye hear? They can't stand goin' at that pace. Back yer topsails, ye young rascal, or I'll board ye in a jiffy."

"How can I pull up with _that_ before me!" cried Martin, pointing to a wide ditch or gully that lay in front of them. "I must go over that first."

"Go over that!" cried Barney, endeavouring to rein in his horse, and looking with an anxious expression at the chasm. "It's all very well for you to talk o' goin' over, ye feather; but fifteen stun--Ah, then, _won't_ ye stop? Bad luck to him, he's got the bit in his teeth! Oh then, ye ugly baste, go, and my blissin' go with ye!"

The leap was inevitable. Martin went over like a deer. Barney shut his eyes, seized the pommel of the saddle, and went at it like a thunder-bolt. In the excitement of the moment he shouted, in a stentorian voice, "Clap on all sail! d'ye hear? Stu'n sails and skyscrapers! Kape her steady! Hooray!"

It was well for Barney that he had seized the saddle. Even as it was, he received a tremendous blow from the horse's head as it took the leap, and was thrown back on its haunches when it cleared the ditch, which it did nobly.

"Hallo! old boy, not hurt, I hope," said Martin, suppressing his laughter as his comrade scrambled on to the saddle. "You travel about on the back of your horse at full gallop like a circus rider."

"Whist, darlint, I do belave he has damaged my faygur-head. What a nose I've got! Sure I can see it mesilf without squintin'."

"So you have, Barney. It's a little swelled, but never mind. We must all learn by experience, you know. So come alone."

"Hould on, ye spalpeen, till I git my wind!"

But Martin was off again at full speed; and Barney's horse, scorning to be left behind, took the bit again in its teeth and went--as he himself expressed it,--"screamin' before the wind."

A new sensation is not always and necessarily an agreeable thing. Martin and Barney found it so on the evening of that same day, as they reclined (they could not sit) by the side of their fire on the campo under the shelter of one of the small trees which grew here and there at wide intervals on the plain. They had left the diamond mine early that morning, and their first day on horseback proved to them that there are shadows, as well as lights, in equestrian life. Their only baggage was a single change of apparel and a small bag of diamonds,--the latter being the product of the mine during the Baron Fagoni's reign, and which that worthy was conveying faithfully to his employer. During the first part of the day they had ridden though a hilly and woody country, and towards evening they emerged upon one of the smaller campos, which occur here and there in the district.

"Martin," said Barney, as he lay smoking his pipe, "'tis a pity that there's no pleasure in this world without _something_ crossgrained into it. My own feelin's is as if I had been lately passed through a stamping machine."

"Wrong, Barney, as usual," said Martin, who was busily engaged concluding supper with an orange. "If we had pleasures without discomforts, we wouldn't half enjoy them. We need lights and shadows in life--what are you grinning at Barney?"

"Oh! nothin', only ye're a remarkable philosopher, when ye're in the vein."

"'Tis always in vain to talk philosophy to you, Barney, so good night t'ye. Oh, dear me, I wish I could sit down! but there's no alternative,--either bolt upright or quite flat."

In quarter of an hour they both forgot pleasures and sorrows alike in sleep. Next day the sun rose on the edge of the campo as it does out of the ocean, streaming across its grassy billows, and tipping the ridges as with ruddy gold. At first Martin and Barney did not enjoy the lovely scene, for they felt stiff and sore; but, after half an hour's ride, they began to recover; and when the sun rose in all its glory on the wide plain, the feelings of joyous bounding freedom that such scenes always engender obtained the mastery, and they coursed along in silent delight.

The campo was hard, composed chiefly of a stiff red clay soil, and covered with short grass in most places; but here and there were rank bushes of long hairy grasses, around and amongst which grew a multitude of the most exquisitely beautiful flowerets and plants of elegant forms. Wherever these flowers flourished very luxuriantly there were single trees of stunted growth and thick bark, which seldom rose above fifteen or twenty feet. Besides these there were rich flowering myrtles, and here and there a grotesque cactus or two.

Under one of these trees they reined up after a ride of two hours, and picketing their horses, prepared breakfast. It was soon despatched, and then remounting, away they went once more over the beautiful plains.

About mid-day, as they were hasting towards the shelter of a grove which appeared opportunely on the horizon, Barney said suddenly--

"Martin, lad, we're lost! We're out of our course, for sartin."

"I've been thinking that for some time, Barney," replied Martin; "but you have your compass, and we can surely make the coast by dead reckoning--eh?"

"True, lad, we can; but it'll cost us a dale o' tackin' to make up for lee-way. Ah, good luck to ye! here's a friend'll help us."

As he spoke a herd of wild cattle dashed out of the grove and scampered over the plain, followed by a herdsman on horseback. Seeing that he was in eager pursuit of an animal which he wished to lasso, they followed him quietly and watched his movements. Whirling the noose round his head, he threw it adroitly in such a manner that the bull put one of its legs within the coil. Then he reined up suddenly, and the animal was thrown on its back. At the same moment the lasso broke, and the bull recovered its feet and continued its wild flight.

"Good day, friend," said Barney, galloping towards the disappointed herdsman and addressing him in Portuguese, "could you show us the road to Rio? We've lost it intirely."

The man pointed sulkily in the direction in which they were going, and, having mended his lasso, he wheeled about and galloped after the herd of cattle.

"Bad luck to yer manners!" said Barney, as he gazed after him. "But what can ye expect from the poor critter? He niver larned better. Come along, Martin, we'll rest here a while."

They were soon under the shelter of the trees, and having fastened their horses to one of them, they proceeded to search for water. While thus employed, Barney shouted to his companion, "Come here, lad; look here."

There was something in the tone of the Irishman's voice that startled Martin, and he sprang hastily towards him. Barney was standing with his arms crossed upon his chest and his head bowed forward, as he gazed with a solemn expression on the figure of a man at his feet.

"Is he ill?" inquired Martin, stooping and lifting his hand. Starting back as he dropped it, he exclaimed, "Dead!"

"Ay, boy, he has gone to his last account. Look at him again, Martin. It was he who came to the mine a week ago to buy a horse, and now--." Barney sighed as he stooped and turned the body over in order to ascertain whether he had been murdered; but there were no marks of violence to be seen. There was bread too in his wallet; so they could come to no other conclusion than that the unhappy man had been seized with fatal illness in the lonesome wood and died there.

As they searched his clothes they found a small leathern bag, which, to their amazement was filled with gold-dust; and in the midst of the gold was another smaller bag containing several small diamonds.

"Ha!" exclaimed Martin, "that explains his hurry. No doubt he had made off with these, and was anxious to avoid pursuit."

"No doubt of it," said Barney. "Well, thief or no thief, we must give the poor cratur' dacent burial. There's not a scrap o' paper to tell who he is or where he came from,--a sure sign that he wasn't what he should ha' been. Ah! Martin, what will we not do for the sake o' money! and, after all, we can't keep it long. May the Almighty niver let you or me set our hearts on it."

They dug a shallow grave with their hands in a sandy spot where the soil was loose, in which they deposited the body of the unfortunate man; and then remounting their horses, rode away and left him in his lonely resting-place.

For many days did Martin and Barney travel through the land on horseback, now galloping over open campos, anon threading their way through the forest, and sometimes toiling slowly up the mountain sides. The aspect of the country varied continually as they advanced, and the feelings of excessive hilarity with which they commenced the journey began to subside as they became accustomed to it.

One evening they were toiling slowly up a steep range of hills, which had been the prospect in front of them the whole of that day. As they neared the summit of the range Martin halted at a stream to drink, and Barney advanced alone. Suddenly Martin was startled by a loud cry, and looking up he saw Barney on his knees with his hands clasped before him! Rushing up the hill, Martin found his comrade with his face flushed and the tears coursing down his cheeks as he stared before him.

"Look at it Martin, dear!" he cried, starting up and flinging his cap in the air, and shouting like a madman. "The say! my own native illiment! the beautiful ocean! Och, darlint my blessing on ye! Little did I think to see you more,--hooray!"

Barney sang and danced till he sank down on