admiration.  Nevertheless his landing was
attended with inconveniences.  The mud
which accumulates at the mouth of every
large river was abundant at Buenos Ayres,
and prevented the ships from coming to the
shore.  Hence both man and goods were
disembarked in clumsy carts, which were pushed
along by horses fastened behind.

Save in dirt and the absence of paving,
Buenos Ayres is very different from Rio de
Janeiro, lying as it does in a plain surrounded
by broad prairies. The roofs of the
houses are flat, stoves are almost unknown,
although they would not be altogether
superfluous, and the only chimneys rise from the
kitchens.  Ox-hides are the staple article of
export; but of late years more attention has
been paid than formerly to the breeding of sheep.
So little was mutton appreciated in the olden
times, that it was dried in the sun, and used for
—fuel.  In the markets of Buenos Ayres our
traveller fancied he bought things good and
cheap, though the dirty manner in which they
were laid on the ground was uninviting.  The
produce of the rural districts was usually
sold by equestrian venders; and Herr von
Raumer saw in his travelling dream an
object which is usually supposed to have only
a figurative existence—he saw a beggar on
horseback.  The houses are pleasant enough,
being well provided with courts and gardens,
and the absence of glass from the windows,
far from being a sign of wretchedness
favoured ventilation.  At the same time, it had
given rise to an ingenious class of thieves,
who, by means of long poles armed with
hooks, contrived to remove articles of value
through the lattice.

Dinner-time at Buenos Ayres is usually
between one and two in the afternoon.  The
inhabitants are carnivorous animals, eating
scarcely any vegetables, very little bread, and
not much fish.  The siesta follows dinner, and
church sometimes follows the siesta.  Tea
has been introduced into some societies; but
the national tea is still the bitterish beverage
called maté, which is handed about in a huge
vessel, from which all the guests suck the
contents through the same tube.  The
English, alas! are making inroads in this
primitive mode of enjoyment, and in higher
circles people are beginning to abandon the
common tube, in spite of its sociality.

At Buenos Ayres, as at Rio de Janeiro, the
ladies perplexed Herr von Raumer; though
the difficulty was decreased by the fact that
they showed themselves more in society.
Nevertheless, through the fog of conflicting
evidence he could perceive that the ladies
of Buenos Ayres were fond of music and
dancing, and their habit of singing through
the nose did not escape his delicate ear.
Novel, too, was the effect when the ladies, as
they approached a gentleman in a dance,
sang a song in which they accosted the happy
individual as "Mi cielito," or My little
heaven.

Having satisfied himself with Buenos
Ayres, our learned historian now resolved to
visit Chile, but could not at first make up his
mind whether he should go across the
country, or sail round Cape Horn.  At last
the sage reflection that more is learned by
land than by sea, determined him in favour
of the former course, though he was
perfectly aware of the difficulties he might incur
in the Pampas.  Is not this circumspection
on the part of a voyager who merely travels
from book to book, perfectly delightful?

The land journey then is chosen; but then
what sort of a land journey shall it be?  The
post-coach, to be sure, goes four times a
month to Mendoza, but then it is very slow
and very inconvenient.  On the other hand,
by accompanying those centaurs of South
America, the Gauchos, one can perform the
same journey within two days; but then one
runs the risk of breaking one's neck; and if
that misfortune be escaped, one is pretty
certain to keep one's bed for several days
from the exertion.  A middle course was
adopted, and a vehicle was hired which could
reach Mendoza in some fifteen or eighteen
days.  Vehicles of this sort are drawn by a
great number of oxen, yoked very wide
apart, that they may cross difficult places
with the least possible impediment.  One
driver, who may be called the coachman, sits
on the cart, armed with a switch thirty feet
long; another sits on one of the oxen belong-
ing to the second pair, and a third rides by
the side.  The creaking of the wheels, which
are never greased, offended Herr von
Raumer's ears; but the drivers assured him
that the noise was considered most delightful
music by—the oxen.  In spite of all
these inconveniences, our daring adventurer
found it very amusing to converse with the
Gauchos, and hear them talk of their fights
with the Indians, who still maintained their
independence and were still formidable.

If any one not too familiar with the
country will just turn to a map of South
America, he will find that the journey
performed in an ox-cart, even by the imagination of
Herr von Raumer, was no trifle.  From Cape
St. Antonio to the foot of the Cordilleras, and
from Sante Fé (north) to the Rio Colorado
(south), is an immense plain which is often
destitute of water.  The grass here tall and
luxuriant, there dried up by the sun, is peopled by
the innumerable mosquitos—a perpetual
nuisance.  Through these plains or Pampas oxen
once roved at perfect liberty; but, since the
revolution they have risen in value, and now
there is not an animal without its lawful
owner.  Bread is unknown to the inhabitants
of the Pampas; and salt, though known well
enough, is detested by the ladies of the place,
for the very feminine reason that it makes
them old before their time.

The only place that relieved the monotony
of the journey was the wretched little town
of St. Luis, which offers no temptation to