bullocks'-heads, before a hearth enclosed with
shank bones stuck into the ground—a fire of
cow's dung and tallow sending forth a flickering
light over the jet-black walls—behold me
and my men. Elevated a little above his
fellows sits the major-domo, arranging the
duties of the day, or listening to their
conversation of feats with the lazo. Few of them
can read; they know of no other world than
the Pampas; "their wants are few, their
wishes all confined." Like uneducated men
in all parts of the world, they are everlasting
beggars. No sooner do my little stores arrive,
than they all fall sick; one wants a little
biscuit, another a little sugar, and a third a
little coffee. "Para remedio" they cry. I
verily believe if I were to receive a consignment
of prussic acid, they would try a little
"para remedio."

I have got my Estancia into prosperous
condition. I found it on my return, in 1846, a
complete wreck. It was a work of infinite
labour and anxiety to bring the establishment
into good working order. Forty thousand
head of horned cattle, four thousand
mares, and fifteen thousand sheep now over-
stock the ground. I have three thousand
oxen apart and at pasture from three years
upwards, and two thousand more in the herd,
which we now collect as formerly, and bring
them to the rodio as tame as milch cows at
an English farm. We consider here two
thousand head per league as many cattle as
the ground will fatten and maintain all the
year round: this gives about two and a-half
acres per head; our stock is above that, as we
do not possess more than one hundred
thousand acres including the lakes, which will
measure at least one thousand acres, besides
the River Flores, which runs the whole length
of the estate, or five and a half leagues.

The spring months are always busy ones in
the Pampas. The sheep are all to wash and
shear; the wool is all to be packed into bags;
the ox and cow-hides collected during the
winter, together with the tallow, fat, horse-
hair, sheep-skins, &c,, &c., have all to be sent
to market. The lambs are then to be selected
according to their fineness, and their ears cut,
both to denote their quality, and to show to
whom they belong, in case they should mix
with any other flocks. All these duties
occupy us during the months of November
and December, and then we obtain a little
rest until the middle of January, when the
delivery of cattle for the market commences.
This summer our labours have been materially
augmented by a drought, which has been felt
all over the southern part of the Pampas. A
drought is to this country what a murrain is
to the cattle in others. About the end of
December our water failed in all the lakes,
and then it was heart-rending to see the poor
animals wandering about, unwilling to leave
their homes. As I rode through them, the
cows looked at me, as if to ask the major-domo
if he could not procure them water to drink;
the tender calves, trotting by their mothers'
sides, seemed to feel, in the diminished
quantity of milk, that they, as well as their
mothers, shared in the general calamity. The
cow clings with great affection to the spot
where she has borne her calves; but what
feeling can resist the impulse of thirst?
Onward they move in search of water, and
whilst their owner sees, with grief of heart,
his cattle leave his ground, his neighbour,
whose lakes still hold out, beholds with
consternation his land invaded with blackening
herds of cattle, that come, like the locust,
to eat up his herbage, and consume his water.
That being consumed, onward they move, and
carry all his cattle with them. This has no
remedy until a fall of rain replenishes the
empty lakes. The cattle seem instinctively to
know when this has taken place, and they
gradually return home, bringing with them
many of their new-formed acquaintances.
Their owners then come to part them off, and
we send out to bring home such stragglers
as have remained behind.

In March, we have to mark the calves of
the year's produce, about eight thousand; in
April to mark the foals, and cut the manes
and tails of the mares, and that will finish the
work of autumn. The last is hard work for
the men and horses. We have to catch the
mares with the lazo, and when inclosed, men
on foot throw them down by entangling their
forelegs, and when down the hair is cut away,
and carefully tied up, packed, and sent to
town, for exportation to England.

My farm-yard boasts of plenty of fowls, at
least two hundred, with English ducks,
Muscovy ducks, turkeys, &c., all in abundance.
My dogs accompany me everywhere. At
home they sleep at my door. When from
home, and sleeping outside "al fresco"
covered with my poncho, they form a circle
round me, and then none dare approach me.
My house is surrounded with weeping willows,
very lofty; in these the fowls roost. I have
a little garden, in which I grow onions, peas,
pumpkins, and potatoes, some fruit for the
summer, melons, water-melons, &c. There
are plenty of tame cows for milk, eggs by the
bushel. My house, or thatched cottage, has
three rooms, and my country house has a
spare bed for the stranger.

In the early part of April 1849, having sold
all the bovillos (oxen) from two-and-a-half
years old and upwards, and all the fat vacas
(cows) from three years and upwards, we
assembled at San Carlos to commence the
delivery. For this purpose we hired twenty
men by the day to do the work on their own
horses, and we drafted ten more from the
different puestos, to assist in the secondary
operations. The whole were placed under
the orders of my capataz major. I merely
attended to overlook the duty, and to be at
hand in case any unforeseen difficulty might
rise.

All the preliminary arrangements being