Tales of the Pampas | Page 2

the White Horse, on
account of the whiteness of his skin where most men look dark; also
because of that proud temper and air of authority which he had. And for
still another reason--the number of children in this neighbourhood of
which he was said to be the father. In all houses, for many leagues
around, the children were taught to reverence him, calling him "uncle,"
and when he appeared they would run and, dropping on their knees
before him, cry out "Bendición mi tio." He would give them his
blessing; then, after tweaking a nose and pinching an ear or two, he
would flourish his whip over their heads to signify that he had done
with them, and that they must quickly get out of his way.
These were children of the wind, as the saying is, and the desire of his
heart was for a legitimate son, an Ugarte by name, who would come
after him at El Ombú, as he had come after his father. But though he
had married thrice, there was no son born, and no child. Some thought
it a mystery that one with so many sons should yet be without a son.

The mystery, friend, was only for those who fail to remember that such
things are not determined by ourselves. We often say, that He who is
above us is too great to concern Himself with our small affairs. There
are so many of us; and how shall He, seated on his throne at so great a
distance, know all that passes in his dominions! But Santos was no
ordinary person, and He who was greater than Santos had doubtless had
his attention drawn to this man; and had considered the matter, and had
said, "You shall not have your desire; for though you are a devout man,
one who gives freely of his goods to the church and my poor, I am not
wholly satisfied with you." And so it came to pass that he had no son
and heir.
His first two wives had died, so it was said, because of his bitterness
against them. I only knew the third--Doña Mericie, a silent, sad woman,
who was of less account than any servant, or any slave in the house.
And I, a simple boy, what could I know of the secrets of her heart?
Nothing! I only saw her pale and silent and miserable, and because her
eyes followed me, I feared her, and tried always to keep out of her way.
But one morning, when I came to El Ombú and went into the kitchen, I
found her there alone, and before I could escape she caught me in her
arms, and lifting me off my feet strained me against her breast, crying,
hijo de mi alma, and I knew not what beside; and calling God's blessing
on me, she covered my face with kisses. Then all at once, hearing
Santos' voice without, she dropped me and remained like a woman of
stone, staring at the door with scared eyes.
She, too, died in a little while, and her disappearance made no
difference in the house, and if Santos wore a black band on his arm, it
was because custom demanded it and not because he mourned for her
in his heart.
ii

THAT SILENT GHOST of a woman being gone, no one could say of
him that he was hard; nor could anything be said against him except
that he was not a saint, in spite of his name. But, sir, we do not look for

saints among strong men, who live in the saddle, and are at the head of
big establishments. If there was one who was a father to the poor it was
Santos; therefore he was loved by many, and only those who had done
him an injury or had crossed him in any way had reason to fear and
hate him. But let me now relate what I, a boy of ten, witnessed one day
in the year 1808. This will show you what the man's temper was; and
his courage, and the strength of his wrists.
It was his custom to pay a visit every two or three months to a
monastery at a distance of half-a-day's journey from El Ombú.
He was greatly esteemed by the friars, and whenever he went to see
them he had a led horse to carry his presents to the Brothers;--a side of
fat beef, a sucking-pig or two, a couple of lambs, when they were in
season, a few fat turkeys and ducks, a bunch of big partridges, a brace
or two of armadillos, the breast and wings of a fat ostrich; and in
summer, a dozen ostriches' eggs, and I know not what besides.
One