puma; but to these I give a wide berth, and
press onward. My dogs are of all breeds and
sizes. I have Lion, Wolf, and Hector, Robert
Tyke, and Richard Turpin. The females are
Juno, Vixen, Rose, and Bess, the others are
all Spanish names. The viscachas that burrow
in the earth, the nutua that inhabit the lake,
all come in for their share with the tykes.
The old bulls that have retired from the
cares of the world, and sought some sequestered
part of the estate to wind up a "youth
of labour with an age of ease," afford especial
amusement to the scamps, surrounding him
on all sides; one holding on by the tail, three
or four at his head, and the others at his
heels, he has no chance but to take to the
water, and stand in the lake until they are
compelled to retire, and leave him alone in
his solitude. They know where to find these
old gentlemen, and they scour along to cut
the bull from the lake, and assail him, as the
men call it, "de reta guardia" or, in plain
English, from the rear.

There are many incidents occurring here
to relieve what you may think the monotony
of my life. I will describe one:—

In the spring of last year I started from
the Vigilante, where I had passed the night.
It was about sunrise, and at that hour the
Pampas are delightful. In a favourable
season, the scented trefoil reaches to the
horse's knees. Covered with its yellow
flowers, and laden with the dew of the
morning, it reminds me of the clover fields of
cultivated England. The animals all fat; the
land covered witli cattle; hundreds of young
calves by the side of their mothers; the
gambols of the sportive foals in the manádas;
all seems health, increase, and contentment.
As I rode towards the Estancia, I approached
two herds of mares, the leaders of which
appeared to be in conference, and I was induced
to think there was discord between them.
They now joined their nostrils close together,
then separated; and, from the position of
their ears, I judged that no arrangement had
been come to. They were both what we call
manádas alzádas (wild), and both horses, they
had founded their own families by cutting off
young mares from other herds. Neither of
them was known to me, and consequently
had not been "regularly appointed;" on a
sudden one of the horses bolted into the other
herd (he was a jet black) and, with his ears
aback, and nose to the ground, he singled out
a young mare, and carried her off. In a
moment to the rescue off went the other
horse, and a fierce contest was the result.
First fastening with their teeth upon the
crest of the neck or the withers; now, both,
as it were, in the air, on their hind-legs;
then the heavy blows upon the ribs, given
with both heels; they were presently bleeding
from the neck to the shoulders, the sweat
running from them as if a pail of water had
been thrown over them. Whilst this was
going on, one of the manádas had been taken
off, unobserved by the black horse, and was
out of sight before he discovered his loss.
He immediately quitted the combat, and
started off in search of his family. He came
in the direction I was passing, and my horse
immediately winced, and showed symptoms
of alarm, so much so that I dismounted and
held him by the reins. The stallion passed
at full speed, at the distance of about twenty
yards from us. When he was gone my horse
appeared satisfied; I remounted him, and
was proceeding at an easy gallop, when the
frantic animal again made his appearance, his
long mane flying out, and the white foam in
flashes breaking from his mouth and haunches.
Ever and anon, he would lower his head to
the ground, as if upon a scent, and in this
way he was coming up, hand over hand. My
horse again became alarmed, and I let him
go at his own speed. The black, however,
was fast gaining upon us, when, as I
approached a lake, I observed some animals
amongst the high bulrushes. I drove them
out. They proved to be the missing herd,
and the horse regained his family. He
quickly collected them into a group, and drove
them in the direction where I had met with
them; I have no doubt the combat would be
renewed; but I had seen quite enough.

In the winter I am very much exposed to
the weather, especially at night; but as soon
as the cock crows in the morning, all our
cares are over. Seated round the fire in the
kitchen we take our matté, and at sunrise we
mount our horses, and forth to the country.
A ride of four leagues brings me home to
breakfast, and the bracing air of the Pampas,
with horseback exercise, makes me enjoy my
roast beef and cup of coffee as much as if I
were to breakfast with a City alderman.

When the hard, dry pampero wind is blowing,
my house lets it in at every chink. On
it comes from the south-west with nothing to
arrest its progress. The Pampas are like the
ocean. As far as the eye can reach, we only
see a lonely cottage, as we see a ship in the
Atlantic. The wind dies away at sunset, and
next morning a hoar frost, which vanishes an
hour after sunrise. This is all the winter we
feel in the Pampas; but the wind from the
south-west makes a clear passage through
poncho, jacket, ribs and all; and the want of
comfort in the house, and proper clothing,
makes us feel more cold here than in the
hardest winter at home. Yet we seldom,
catch cold, and in general we all enjoy excellent
health, which in itself is a comfort beyond
all price.

I breakfast in the morning at seven o'clock;
by that time my horse is saddled, and waiting
for me. I then proceed to one or other of the
distant cottages, and sleep there, or return
home at sunset, dine, and at eight o'clock in
winter, and nine o'clock in summer, retire to
bed, and at three o'clock am again in the
cocina, with my herdsmen and shepherds.
Seated on small blocks of wood, or dried