A mounted Gaucho rides on either side of him, to keep him straight.
The emphasis on the “him” points to some one not yet mentioned, but whom the gaucho has in his mind.
Saying this, the gaucho relapses into silence, the others also ceasing to converse.
And communicating this to the gaucho, he holds their horses while they return to search for them.
Notwithstanding all this, Gaspar the gaucho is not to be baulked in his design.
The gaucho has no thought of so appealing, any more than either of the others.
But again the gaucho, no: greatly given to sentiment, objects.
In the midst of this elemental war the party reached the Gaucho huts.
The Gaucho chief—if we may so style him—presented his musket and pulled the trigger.
If aunt desired to feast her eyes on the Gaucho malo she had now a chance.