Дети капитана Гранта / The Children of Captain Grant. Жюль Верн

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СКАЧАТЬ some information about his shipwrecked countryman, while the Patagonian hardly cared to encounter the Indians of the prairie, knowing their bandit propensities. He wanted to avoid them, and gave orders to his party to have their arms in readiness for any trouble.

      Presently the Indians came in sight, they were only ten in number. They came within a hundred yards of them, and stopped. They were dressed in skins, and carried lances twenty feet long, knives, slings, and lassos.

      Glenarvan determined to go up to them; but he had no sooner moved forward than the whole band wheeled round, and disappeared with incredible speed.

      “The cowards!” exclaimed Paganel. “Who are these Indians, Thalcave?”

      “Gauchos[77].”

      “The Gauchos!” cried Paganel, and, turning to his companions, added: “There was nothing to fear.”

      “How is that?” asked McNabbs.

      “Because the Gauchos are inoffensive peasants.”

      “You believe that, Paganel?”

      “Certainly I do. They took us for robbers, and fled in terror.”

      “I rather think they did not dare to attack us,” replied Glenarvan.

      “That’s my opinion too,” said the Major, “for if I am not mistaken, instead of being harmless, the Gauchos are formidable bandits. I believe you are wrong, Paganel.”

      “Wrong?” replied Paganel.

      “Yes. Thalcave took them for robbers, and he knows what he is talking about.”

      “Well, Thalcave was mistaken this time,” retorted Paganel. “The Gauchos are agriculturists and shepherds, and nothing else.”

      Chapter XVIII. In Search of Water

      The streams of fresh water were all dried up; the burning sun had drunk up every thing liquid. Some action must be taken immediately, however; for what little water still remained was almost bad, and could not quench thirst. Hunger and fatigue were forgotten in the face of this imperious necessity.

      Paganel asked Thalcave what he thought was best to be done. A rapid conversation followed, a few words of which were intelligible to Glenarvan. Thalcave spoke calmly, but the lively Frenchman gesticulated enough for both. After a little, Thalcave sat silent and folded his arms.

      “What does he say?” asked Glenarvan. “I fancied he was advising us to separate.”

      “Yes, into two parties. Those of us whose horses are done out with fatigue and thirst are to continue the route as they best can, while the others, whose steeds are fresher, are to push on in advance toward the river. If there should be water enough in the river, they are to wait on the banks till their companions reach them; but should it be dried up, they will hasten back.”

      “And what will we do then?” asked Austin.

      “Then we shall have to go seventy-two miles south, where rivers abound.”

      “It is wise counsel. I shall accompany Thalcave.”

      “Oh, my Lord, take me,” said Robert.

      “But would you be able for it, my boy?”

      “Oh, please, my Lord, take me.”

      “Come, then, my boy,” said Glenarvan, delighted not to leave Robert behind. “If we three don’t find out fresh water somewhere,” he added, “we must be very stupid.”

      “Well, well, and what about me?” said Paganel.

      “Oh, my dear Paganel, you must stay with the reserve corps,” replied the Major. “You are too well acquainted with the 37th parallel and the river and the whole Pampas for us to let you go.”

      “I resign myself,” said the geographer.

      “But mind, Paganel, no distractions,” added the Major. “Don’t you take us to the wrong place—to the borders of the Pacific, for instance.”

      “Oh, you insufferable Major,” replied Paganel, laughing. “But how will you understand what Thalcave says, Glenarvan?” he continued.

      “I suppose,” replied Glenarvan, “the Patagonian and I won’t have much to talk about; besides, I know a few Spanish words.”

      The three horses went forward. Thalcave sat motionless in the saddle, but often turned his head to look at Robert, and gave him a shout of encouragement and approval, as he saw how well he rode. Certainly the boy deserved praise.

      “Bravo! Robert,” said Glenarvan. “Thalcave is evidently congratulating you, my boy, and paying you compliments.”

      “What for, my Lord?”

      “For your good horsemanship.”

      “What would papa say to that?” said Robert, laughing. “He wants me to be a sailor.”

      “The one won’t hinder the other[78].”

      “Poor father,” said Robert; “how he will thank you for saving his life.”

      “You love him very much, Robert?”

      “Yes, my Lord, dearly. He was so good to me and my sister. We were his only thought: and whenever he came home from his voyages, we were sure of some souvenir from all the places he had been to; and, better still, of loving words and caresses. Ah! If you knew him you would love him, too. Mary is most like him. He has a soft voice, like hers. That’s strange for a sailor, isn’t it?”

      “Yes, Robert, very strange.”

      “Good, brave papa,” the boy went on, as if speaking to himself. “He put me to sleep on his knee. Ah, my Lord, how we loved him. You will find him?”

      “Yes, we’ll find him,” was Glenarvan’s reply, “Thalcave has set us on the track, and I have great confidence in him.”

      “Thalcave is a brave Indian, isn’t he?” said the boy.

      “That indeed he is.”

      “Do you know something, my Lord?

      “What is it?”

      “That all the people you have with you are brave. Lady Helena, whom I love so, and the Major, with his calm manner, and Captain Mangles, and Monsieur Paganel, and all the sailors on the Duncan. How courageous and devoted they are.”

      “Yes, my boy, I know that,” replied Glenarvan.

      “And do you know that you are the best of all.”

      “No, most certainly I don’t know that.”

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