It was very interesting to watch them all, and to observes their ways and manners. There was plenty of opportunity to do this, as after the foals were branded we did not let them go until between three and four o'clock. When at last they were turned loose, they did not let the gra.s.s grow under their feet, but soon divided themselves off more or less into their own lots, and with their own companions. Indeed, had they been looked up early on the following morning they would have probably been found feeding more or less together in the same groups, and on the same particular part of the estancia where we had originally found them. The weather had now become quite hot again, and we had continual sunshine for nearly a fortnight. There was a stone puesto about half way between the Cerro and the "Pa.s.s of the Pichinango," where an old negro called Tio Benigno lived, looking after a flock of sheep. He was now dead, and the flock had been removed, but his so-called widow, black like himself, was still living on there, with a numerous progeny of various sorts and sizes, almost dest.i.tute of clothes who ran in and out of the abode like rabbits, when anyone happened to ride up. They seemed to be living on the rations which had been allowed to the departed parent, which were still being allowed to them. Don Frederico would have been glad if I could have got them to leave the puesto altogether, but the question was where were they to go? I was riding down to La Concordia during the siesta when I saw a peculiar sight. As I was about to cross the Canada Grande, a short way further up the stream, the black lady was sitting astride an old dun horse, short both of mane and tail in the middle of a large pool, with a fishing rod in her hand, apparently intent on fishing. Of clothes she had none. Such garments as she possessed lay in a heap on the bank by the water. Her black skin fairly shone and glistened in the sunshine. On her head was an old black silk top hat, which also reflected the rays of light. It had doubtless been a gift to her departed husband from one of the young Englishmen who might have been staying at the Cerro, presumably with no idea, however, that it would be put to its present use. The lady saw me pa.s.s, but did not appear in the least to mind. She simply gave a broad grin, and leaving her to pursue her peaceful occupation, I pa.s.sed on my way. Not very long afterwards someone who had known her husband asked her to go and keep an eye on quite a small lot of sheep, and also to act as "lavandera," or washer-woman, as well. So I persuaded her not to lose the opportunity of changing her abode, and gladly sent a cart to move such belongings as she had. Indeed, I was glad to have the puesto empty, for it was in the direct route along which soldiers would pa.s.s coming from the town of Colla, and going north, and it seemed better that they should have the road clear in front of them. Rumour in time of revolution was always busy, and it was said that the Colorados intended for some reason best known to themselves to fall back before very long from the province of Colonia, and join up with their main force in the province of San Jose.

Should this prove correct, it seemed probable that a portion of the Blanco army, which, during all this time had been steadily concentrating up beyond Paysandu, would seize the opportunity to occupy that province themselves. That being so, it seemed obvious that open hostilities, which had now for some time seemed far away from us, would come much nearer. The fact was it was impossible to foresee what lay before us in the future, and all we could do was to carry on as well as we could for the present, and hope for the best.

Up to now we had certainly been very fortunate, for our horses had not been taken; all had gone on very much as usual; nor had there been any interference either with our sheep or cattle. There happened to be two colts among the horses at the Cerro nearly five years old: a bay and a brown, and I determined to have these tamed. One was the foal of the bay "madrina" mare, and the other had joined the troop on its own account.

They were both accustomed to come up each day into the corral, and to see people about, nor had either of them led the wild life of the open camp. So there was every reason to suppose they would prove docile, and I did not trouble to look out for a regular "domador," or horse-tamer, as I thought that Juan, the Indian, would manage, with the help of his nephews, both of whom were good riders. The rough and ready system of taming in the old days consisted of la.s.soing a colt in the yard, tying him up to a post for the night, and next morning saddling him up with a "recado," with the "cincha," or broad hide girth, as tight as possible.

A narrow piece of hide nicely softened was then tied twice round the lower jaw, to which the reins were attached, a couple of pieces of soft sheepskin were fastened over the framework of the recado, while the four legs of the animal were tied together by a "maneador," or long thong of hide, in such a manner that by giving one pull it would all come loose and fall to the ground. The colt was then untied from the post to which he had been made fast, and up got the rider, who was going to give him his first gallop. Two men were ready on horseback, one on either side, while a third man on foot gave the thong round the horse's legs a sharp pull, when it fell loose. Usually the colt would make a wild rush forward, the two hors.e.m.e.n keeping each as close to him as they could on either side, so as to steer him in a straight line. Old Juan was now over fifty, nor was he a regular tamer; but he could still sit tight on a horse which did not buck-jump too hard or too long, and there was always the chance that he would not buck-jump at all, but just bolt off across the open camp. With the bay colt even this did not happen, for he merely lunged forward at a sort of uneven trot, wondering very much at finding anyone on his back. Then he stopped, unwilling to proceed, which Justiniano quickly made him do by a free application of his whip.

Eventually he made his first gallop all right and came back apparently having had quite enough of it. That evening the brown colt was tied up as had been the bay, and the same procedure was followed in the early morning. Unfortunately, however, he buck-jumped rather badly, so soon as he was mounted and let loose, and he gave Old Juan a bit of a shaking, but he did not do it for long, and the Indian was able to sit tight and give the colt his first gallop, bringing him back quite sufficiently subdued for one day at any rate.

The gallops went on each morning, with both the colts for about ten days, by the end of which time not only was there no more buck-jumping, but they were beginning to get handy even to the extent of answering the pressure of the rein on the side of the neck, and of turning in some measure as required.

Juan was quite proud of his performance, and began to imagine he was a young man again and a regular horse tamer. Moreover, an extra allowance of Cana, or white rum, of which he was always fond, and at once took effect upon him, made him talk most amusingly of all the colts he had tamed in his early life, and the wonderful things he had done. At the end of three weeks, both the colts were bitted and could be ridden either by Margarito or Justiniano, and it was not long before they were able to take their place among the tame horses.

Attached, as they were, to the tropillas, they were as likely to be taken by soldiers as colts as they would be when tamed, for they would know well enough that young horses among their surroundings were not at all likely to be difficult to break in. I had been lately riding a "manchado," or piebald horse, which had been bred and born town of Colla. He had not much to commend him, but he was easy and quiet to ride. A sad story was connected with him. Between two and three years previously a young Englishman of good position who had come out to have a look at the country, was staying as a guest at the Cerro. One day he rode the "manchado" over to the little country town of Colla. He had not much to recommend him. Returning late at night, he unsaddled the horse in the small yard, just outside the stable. He then took off the bridle, and then, not thinking what he was doing, gave the horse a hit with the reins on his quarters, to drive him out of the yard. The horse kicked out sharply with both hind feet, one hoof catching him just under the throat, and the other at the pit of the stomach. He fell senseless to the ground, and must have remained unconscious for some time. When he came round, he managed to crawl into the galpon and awake the Indians, who, as usual, were fast asleep. They gave the alarm, and a messenger was sent in all haste for a doctor, who was then living on a small place he had beyond and to the eastward of the Cerro. He kindly came over at once, and applied such remedies as he could, but to no purpose, for the poor young man during the morning again became unconscious, and late in the afternoon pa.s.sed quietly to his rest. It was indeed a sad business, and what made it worse was the thought of how easily it might have been avoided. The "manchado" used to rear a bit at times, but not really badly, and I never knew him show the least sign of kicking during the time I had anything to do with him. Later on, I handed him over to Justiniano, who always gave his heels an uncommonly wide berth, and eventually he was taken by a party of soldiers, and we saw no more of him. About a week later I had occasion to ride over one afternoon to the pulperia on the other side of the pa.s.s across the river Rosario, opposite to Marmasola's puesto. I called in as I pa.s.sed to enquire if there was any news, and I saw his wife, who told me her husband was out with the flock. Reaching the pulperia, I found the owner, a tall good-natured looking man, at home, and we soon arranged the business about which I had come. He then told me that towards the end of the previous week Mamerto Gomez, a captain in the Red army, was coming out of the town of Colla with a troop of Colorado soldiers, on his way towards the province of San Jose. A short distance beyond the furthest houses a poor cripple sat by the side of the road begging. Mamerto halted as he pa.s.sed, and turning to one of his soldiers, said, "Mata me aquel Bicho amigo," "Friend, kill that reptile for me," whereupon the man got off his horse and cut the poor cripple's throat from ear to ear.

Leaving the dead body by the roadside, Mamerto Gomez and his troop pa.s.sed on their way as if nothing had happened. I asked the pulpero if he had ever seen Mamerto, and what he was like? "Yes, Senor, I have seen him two or three times," he said, "and not long ago"; and he at once gave me particulars as to his appearance. Of course, I had no difficulty in recognizing him as the same Mamerto Gomez I had first seen at the Pulperia de Guaycoru, when the old negro said to me, "Cuidado, beware!"

and as the man who had been seen entering the Sierras de Mai Abrigo, whom Royd had always believed to be the real cause of all his trouble and ill-luck, viz., the sad death of poor Henriquez, and the stealing of Bent's flock, and the attempt to break in to his puesto at night. I called at Marmasola's as I rode back, and found him in, and, as usual, we discussed the war. He, too, had heard that the Reds were leaving Colonia, and thought it would not be long before the Blancos turned up there in considerable force, when he thought it likely we might have parties of soldiers coming our way, as we should then be in the direct line of route between them and the concentration of their main army out towards Paysandu; so there was pretty sure to be a certain amount of coming and going. He also told me a story of two young Englishmen who came out to Monte Video during the Flores War, with the intention of making their way up country. They started to ride out from there alone, without any guide, and very foolishly, before leaving the city, they drew a considerable sum of money from the bank, which they carried out with them. They reached San Jose all right, and the following day proceeded on their way in the direction of the Cerro del Pichinango, where they intended to pa.s.s the night. They stopped at a pulperia, or store, for some refreshment about eleven o'clock, where there happened to be about a dozen natives, among whom were four or five of very bad character. Such was the account given to the police, who afterwards made enquiries. Whether they let these men know they had money with them n.o.body ever knew. They were known to be dressed each in a light tweed suit, with a large check pattern on it. The two young Englishmen were never heard of again, but a long time afterwards pieces of the cloth they were said to have been wearing were found in the wood on the further side of the river Rosario, not far from the pa.s.s which led over to the Estancia Pichinango. The conclusion come to was that three or four of the natives got on in front of them and attacked them, probably just as they were about to enter the pa.s.s, which was rather a wide one, and having shot them, either dragged or carried the bodies into the wood; of course, taking the money and everything they possessed from them. Whether or where they buried the bodies, of course, was not known.

So much time having elapsed, it was impossible to make further enquiries. They had simply vanished--and being war-time, it was supposed that anything might have happened to them, for at that time in the camp murders even in broad daylight were by no means uncommon.

Marmasola always a.s.sumed a very serious aspect when telling this story, which usually ended by his sitting down on a "banco," or low wooden stool, and drawing the size of the check pattern on the garments of the deceased on the mud floor with the point of his knife, at the same time saying in a solemn tone, "Los dos pobres finados caramba!" "Alas, for the two poor dead men!"

I allowed him to finish without interruption, and then I mounted my horse and rode home to the Cerro, pondering on the many vicissitudes which it seemed possible might happen to the unwary during life in war-time in a South American republic. Nothing had happened during my absence. We got the "tamberos" up to their rodeo, and kept them there awhile, and when I got back the little flock of southdowns were about ready to be shut up in their sheepyard for the night. I looked them over to see that they were all right, and then I went up on to the flat roof of the house to have a good look round with the gla.s.s, and so see if all was quiet. The sun meanwhile was about to set, and it was not long before the light began to fade, and one more day had pa.s.sed and was gone. When next I saw Don Frederico he discussed the situation, and said he thought it would be wise to sell a certain number of the "capones,"

or wether sheep, which were now in good condition, and also to get a tropero, or buyer of cattle of good position to come and purchase as many "novillos," or bullocks, as we could get him to take, as by so doing we should not only lessen the stock we had to look after on the estancia, but it would do away with the risk of losing them. The "capones" chiefly fed together in one flock near La Concordia, with a certain number in two of the other flocks, so there need be no delay in having them parted out so soon as we could arrange with a purchaser. So he decided to attend to this within the next day or two. Meanwhile, if I heard of anyone likely to purchase up in my direction, I was to let him know. He also said he would write to one or two of the troperos, who had been accustomed to buy novillos from us, informing them that we had a good number for sale, and asking them whether they would be able to make up a troop. It was not long before two buyers of sheep applied at La Concordia. A day was fixed for parting them out, and I went down early with two of the Indians to help to pa.s.s the flock through the sheepyards. The purchasers happened to be friends, so agreed to part both together on the same day, and divide the sheep between them afterwards. Altogether they took between six and seven hundred, and after they had finished we helped them over the Pa.s.s of the Rosario, facing the Swiss Colony, where they intended to shut them up for the night, before continuing their journey to the town of Colla, where one of them resided. During the following week we pa.s.sed the other two flocks through the sheepyards at the Cerro, drafting out all the capones and sending them down to the flock at La Concordia to replace the sheep there which had been already sold.

Early in the following week, a little before eleven o'clock, a tropero arrived at the Cerro, and enquired if he could see Don Frederico, as he wanted to buy some "novillos." I had been out early on horseback, and had not long returned, and was just about to have some breakfast. I told him that he was at La Concordia, at the other end of the estancia, and invited him to come inside and join me, which he seemed pleased to do.

He had a peon with him with a led horse in addition to the ones they rode, whom I directed to get something to eat in the galpon. The tropero was grandly dressed in full native costume, a beautiful summer poncho, bombachos of very fine black merino, tucked inside long boots, the latter adorned with large silver spurs, and I noticed he was fully armed. He was an agreeable man, evidently well educated, and he told me he had two other men and a tropilla of horses in the neighbourhood who had gone to look at some bullocks at a small native estancia. Breakfast over, I left him to finish his coffee and smoke, while I went out to tell Justiniano to catch me up another horse. I then offered to accompany him as far as La Concordia, so that if Don Frederico happened to be out, I could have him sent for with as little delay as possible. I gathered the tropero wished to make up quite a large troop, en route for Monte Video, and as we had a good many animals to sell, I did my best to make conversation. Fortunately, when we reached La Concordia, we found Don Frederico at home. The tropero's credentials were quite satisfactory to him, as was the price offered. It was therefore agreed that he should part out and purchase all the novillos on the estancia which he thought old enough and in sufficiently good condition to take. We on our part undertook to have all the cattle gathered on the rodeo on Thursday morning, so that he could part out his bullocks, and to help him to the best of our power--payment, as usual, to be made on delivery. The business concluded, the tropero had a gla.s.s or two of wine and departed.

He said he had plenty of horses with him for his men. I then rode back at once to the Cerro, and sent off one of the Indians to advise our native neighbours and the other round to Laborde, Martin and Marmasola, to inform them at their puestos of what we had arranged, so that they might give help as usual. We tied up horses on Wednesday evening, and made all ready for an early start. I rode "Carnival," the Indians, too, were fairly well mounted. We met the party from La Concordia, Don Frederico riding his rosillo, with two big dogs following him, and Jennings mounted on his dark grey; he seldom rode anything else. The tropero and his men did not take part in gathering the cattle, but joined us at the rodeo, near the Cerro, mounted on their best horses, while the others they had with them were meanwhile feeding not far off, with a boy in attendance, to look after them. The cattle came up well, and just as we got to the rodeo, Pedro Lima arrived with a couple of natives, and also three or four of our neighbours beyond the Cerro turned up, so we had plenty of help to keep the cattle well under control. Don Frederico and the tropero came up to the house for some coffee and a biscuit, but we were soon back again, when the work of parting out the bullocks at once began. A point of tame cattle had meanwhile been brought up to a suitable position a short distance from the herd. These were guarded by Juan, the Indian, with his two nephews to help him. The tropero was mounted on an "oscuro," or black brown horse, and his two men rode one a grey and the other a bay.

He began by riding in among the cattle with one of his men, singling out a suitable bullock, and then the two together, one on either side, ran it out into the point of tame cattle, where it had to remain whether it liked to or not. Then a second bullock was run out, and so on, one after another, until quite a good number were parted. One of the tropero's men now went to help the Indians to guard them, as every now and again one would try to escape, intent on rejoining the main herd, and occasionally a bullock would break loose and make for the open camp, determined to fight hard for liberty. But it was not to be! for the men were well-mounted and knew their business, and the horses knew theirs. They were, of course, faster than the bullocks, and when an animal was desperate, and really refractory the la.s.so came into play, and he was brought back his energy spent, and having been well bullied about he generally thought it better to keep quiet for the time being. A really good horse for work of this kind must be safe and quick on his legs, and have plenty of courage. Indeed, the best thing the rider can do, if well mounted, is to sit tight and leave as much as he can to his horse, who seemed to know all that was expected of him, and was seldom found to fail.

It was now eleven o'clock, seventy-five bullocks had been parted; each one being counted as it went by two people. So a fire was lighted, and a large "asado," or roast of mutton, put on, a little coffee and sugar, some biscuits, farinha and yerba, for the men's Mate were brought down from the Cerro, and it was not long before breakfast was ready. When up at the house I let "Carnival" go, and saddled up the rosillo, who was now in first-rate condition. Work was resumed with as little delay as possible, and when the tropero announced it was time to stop one hundred and sixty bullocks had been parted. The tropero seemed well satisfied, and so were we. Our next business was to give him every a.s.sistance to get the animals outside the boundary of the estancia, where they would be easier to manage than they were on their own camp. Meanwhile we kept the tame animals with the novillos which had been parted, to give them a lead and so render them easier to drive, and we made a start towards the pa.s.s of the Rosario, beyond Marmasola's puesto. There being many of us, we had no difficulty in getting them across the pa.s.s, and when they had gone a short distance on strange ground we parted out the tame cattle, and I returned with them to the Cerro. Don Frederico and Jennings, also the tropero, rode to La Concordia, to receive payment and give the usual certificate, shewing the mark and number of the animals sold, this doc.u.ment being required for the police. The sun was now declining fast towards the horizon, and we had made a fairly long day. Supper, when it came, was welcome, and the pipe which followed it; and having duly recorded particulars in the log-book, I was not sorry to lock up and get early to bed. Autumn was now past, and it would not be long before winter, with its rain and storm, cold nights and early mornings, would be really upon us. I had three cart-loads of wood brought up from the "monte," where we had some men working. Some of the flocks had to be pa.s.sed through the sheepyards, and what with attending to one thing and another, I always found the day pretty fully occupied. Ten days later a party of Blanco soldiers rode up and asked if they could have some food, and also fresh horses. They were on their way to the town of Colla, having pa.s.sed not far from Guaycoru, as they travelled from outside.

With them was Colonel Mallada, who had sent back Francisco's pony at Las Sierras de Mal Abrigo. He had a great reputation among the natives as a fighter. When I went out I found him sitting on his horse, surrounded by some twenty soldiers. I invited him to get off and come in and have some breakfast while the soldiers lit a fire at a little distance, and made themselves a roast outside, for, as it happened, we had a whole sheep hanging in the galpon, ready skinned and dressed. I was amused to see the att.i.tude of the Indians when the Colonel pa.s.sed through into the courtyard. They stood up together on one side, as it were, at attention, with a very solemn expression of countenance, and they evidently looked upon him as a man to be feared rather than loved. He was quite civil during our meal, and told me that a large division of the Blancos were coming down to occupy the province of Colonia, while the main army was now largely concentrated outside, waiting for a favourable opportunity to march in to the province of San Jose, and so on towards the capital itself. He seemed to enjoy a cigarette with his coffee after our meal, and a gla.s.s of Cana also met with approval. Meanwhile, I had told Justiniano to get all the horses up into the corral. I had "Carnival"

tied up under the ombu tree in the courtyard. The Colonel himself was well-mounted on a good-looking grey, apparently quite fresh. The soldiers caught five of our horses, and left us three tired ones, so we did not get off so badly after all, and I was very glad to think that the rosillo, whose back I had cured, was not among them. They all rode off, apparently satisfied, towards the Pa.s.s of the Pichinango, and we were all glad to see them depart. But it made me think, and realise what now might at any time happen, and I determined to have the rosillo caught up and tied in the courtyard oftener than I had done, and to keep a sharp look-out over "Carnival." At two of the puestos the shepherds were each somewhat of a character in their way. They were both of them "bascos," _i.e._, either natives of or having originated from one of the Bay of Biscay provinces in Spain. One of them, whose name was Gaitan, looked after what was known as the "Fine Flock," because it contained the highest strain of Negretti blood. From it were selected the male lambs, which were to be the future rams for the other flocks. He was now no longer in middle age, bent in figure, and slow in his movements. He lived quite alone, doing his own cooking and washing, and he wore remarkably old clothes. He had been for many years on the estancia, getting the usual pay of a puestero, viz., fifteen dollars and thirty-six cents per month (just over 3), together with his allowance of meat and rations, viz., farinha, yerba and salt, which he received monthly. His only luxury was a little tobacco, and he was said to be somewhat of a miser, and to be quite rich. He was usually seen bestriding an old and rather poor horse, but he was a very good shepherd, and except when cooking or eating his meals, or towards evening, when his sheep were drawing home, I never knew him to be long absent from his flock. He was extremely reserved and silent, and I always found it difficult to carry on a conversation with him. His puesto was situate to the north of La Concordia, rather towards the centre of the estancia, and really not very far distant from the former. The other shepherd was called Anjel; he was a much younger man, although he looked older than he really was. He, too, was reserved and silent, and I often wondered if it was the solitary life he led which tended towards this, and whether he would have appeared a somewhat different man if he had been cast among other surroundings. He had neither wife nor child, and like Gaitan, was but a poor rider, and I never saw him on a decent-looking horse. But he had usually a dog with him, and I often saw a cat or two when I visited his puesto, situate close to the river Pichinango, some little distance below the pa.s.s. Here the gra.s.s was good and plentiful, and his flock, which was rather a large one, did very well. He was a most careful and conscientious shepherd, and a skilled worker in wasca, or raw hide, of which he manufactured reins and headstalls, and whips and hobbles; indeed, everything of the kind a well-equipped horseman would require. Just about this time I did not happen to be very busy, so was able to shoot a few partridge, more correctly described as "quail," which were now in good condition, and made a pleasant variation in diet. There was a little single barrel gun available, which I found very nice to shoot with. I also managed to shoot some of the common deer of the Pampas (Cervus Gampestris) with my rifle, the flesh of which is not very appetising, but the skins were easy to dry and soften, and were not only useful as a covering for my "recado," or native saddle, but also served well as rugs for the floor of the sitting-room. The natives mostly chase the deer on horseback with dogs. There is a very curious peculiarity attaching to the young of this species of deer when not more than three or four days old, when the perfection of its instincts at that tender age seems very wonderful in a ruminant. When the doe with fawn is approached by a horseman, even when accompanied by dogs, she stands perfectly motionless, gazing fixedly at the enemy, with her fawn at her side. Then suddenly, as if at a preconcerted signal, the fawn rushes away from her at its utmost speed and, going to a distance of perhaps six hundred yards, conceals itself in a hollow on the ground, or among the long gra.s.s; lying down very close, with head stretched out horizontally, and will thus remain until sought by the dam. When very young it will allow itself to be taken, making no further effort to escape. After the fawn has run away the doe still maintains her statuesque att.i.tude, as if to await the onset. Then, but only when the dogs are close upon her, she too rushes away; but invariably in a direction as nearly opposite to the fawn as possible. At first she runs slowly, with a limping gait, and frequently pausing as if to entice her enemy on, just like a partridge, duck, or plover when driven from its young. But as the dogs begin to press her more closely her speed increases, becoming greater the further she succeeds in leading them from the starting point. Truly a marvellous combination of both instinct and sagacity, and also of maternal love.

Winter was now come, and we had a spell of cold and stormy weather, with a fair amount of rain. I was out in the camp and round the puestos pretty constantly, to see that the flocks were all right, and that there had been no trouble from soldiers. One afternoon I called at La Concordia to see Don Frederico, as I thought it advisable to have three of the flocks pa.s.sed through the sheepyards, to part out sheep which did not belong to them, and have their feet attended to. This was necessary from time to time, as during bad and stormy weather a certain amount of mixing was apt to occur, however careful the puestero might be. It was obviously more difficult to prevent where the land over which one of the flocks was accustomed to feed lay in the same direction on the estancia, and not very far distant from the land occupied by another.

Don Frederico told me he was making arrangements to send Mrs. Dampier and the children on a visit to England, and that he was already in communication with the shipping company about taking their pa.s.sage. His idea was that they should go into Monte Video about a week before the steamer left, and that he would drive them himself in his own carriage with horses and a couple of servants, while their luggage could be sent in a cart to San Jose, and on from there by diligence to Monte Video.

The visit to England had been thought of some little time, but, as, owing to the war, things seemed to be getting more and more unsettled, he thought it better not to delay longer than was necessary. He spoke to me about two or three matters needing attention, and said that Jennings would remain at La Concordia during his absence, and would help me in any way should anything of consequence happen, or an unforeseen difficulty arise. When I got back, I found old Robinson in a very unsatisfactory state; he had evidently got hold of some Cana, but how I could not imagine, as I always kept it securely locked up. He talked a lot of nonsense about being tired of life at the Cerro, and of his determination, although he knew he was an old man, to go off somewhere or other, he did not care where, with a view to bettering himself. I concluded this phase would be a pa.s.sing one, and by next morning he would be himself again. However, when it came, he was both dull and disagreeable, and although he had always been subject to occasional fits of the kind, I felt that his present state of mental irritation and unrest really proceeded from something more than his having drunk a little more than was good for him. I enquired of the Indians if anyone had been to see him. Margarito had seen no one, but Justiniano said he had been looking up the "tamberos," and as he was riding back he saw someone in the distance come out of the door of the kitchen, mount a horse, and ride off towards the Pichinango; and he thought by the way he rode he looked like a "gringo," the native term for a foreigner.

However, next day Robinson seemed better, and the little household disturbance for the moment at any rate pa.s.sed over. At the end of the week seven Blanco soldiers rode up and asked for food and horses. They had evidently come a good distance, and were en route for Colonia. They had four tired horses, which they left with us, taking the two horses previously left by soldiers, and two of ours as well. However, they were quite civil, and one of them told me we might expect to have a good many more coming our way before long. "Carnival" and the rosillo happened both to be tied up in the courtyard, nor did they trouble the least about them. Old Juan, the Indian, mostly kept himself out of sight when soldiers arrived. I suppose he had a sort of idea they might take him off, as they probably would have done had he been younger. I noticed he was always very talkative, and apparently in extra good spirits when they had gone. After about a week the bad weather cleared up, and it set in fine and dry. I went down to La Concordia the afternoon before Don Frederico and the family were to leave for Monte Video. Everything was now ready; the luggage had been sent on two days previously, and they were to make an early start the following morning, which happened to be a Wednesday. It turned out a lovely day for the time of the year, continual sunshine, with a cool breeze, perfect for travelling. On Sat.u.r.day I had our usual para rodeo of the cattle, and they came up well. Early on Monday morning I started on "Carnival" to ride down to the far end of the Swiss Colony, whence the land stretched away to the Estuary de la Plata, which divided the republic of Uruguay from that of Argentina. I called at La Concordia on my way, and had a talk with Jennings about the business I had on hand. My object was to see a man, Emile Gunther by name, who was a buyer of hides and sheepskins. We had a large number of these at the Cerro, and I was anxious to be rid of them, as they were apt to get damp and out of condition during the winter. I crossed the Pa.s.s of the Rosario below La Concordia, into the Colony, following the track which led out of it, gradually rising to higher ground. Every here and there "chacras," or farms, each surrounded by more or less cultivated land. Many of the houses were built of bricks, plastered and whitewashed outside, one storey only, with bright red tiles on the roof, and they usually had a wide open verandah, very convenient to sit in, and also to eat one's meals during warm weather.

Each house seemed to have its garden, where vegetables did well, for the soil was good and easy to work, and it was rare to find one without a few flowers, while clumps of "eucalypti," the blue gum of Australia, planted either round or near the homesteads, were almost universal. The stables and outbuildings were mostly mud-huts, with roofs of "paja," a reed which was quite common, and very suitable for the purpose. All this was that part of the Colony which could be seen in the distance from La Concordia, where the original Colonists had first settled themselves down and made their homes. As I rode on, I came to a much wider track, with wire fencing stretched on wooden posts on either side, running at right angles to the one I had hitherto followed. Turning to the left, I rode along this in a south-westerly direction, and as I proceeded the farms got fewer, and further apart, while the land intervening was thickly covered by a shrub, with a small leaf, the k.n.o.bby roots of which, when dried, made excellent firewood. Here cattle and horses could be seen feeding, for the soil was rich and fertile, and where the shrub, or "chirca," as it was called, was not too thick, good gra.s.ses grew in between. I had no difficulty in finding Senor Gunther's farm, which was quite an important one, for, in addition to land under cultivation, where wheat and maize were grown, there were two large "portreros," or paddocks, fenced in with wire, affording ample pasturage to a considerable number of stock. Trees of various kinds had been planted, including fruit trees, and were growing well. There was a little "monte," or wood of "eucalypti," and some were also planted on either side of the drive leading up to the house, forming quite a respectable avenue. The house was an "azotea," one storey high, with a flat roof, the rooms s.p.a.cious and comfortable, overlooking on their further side a garden, with fruit trees and flowers. As I rode up, I was welcomed by the owner's wife and daughter, who told me he had only gone down the farm for half an hour, and would soon return. Meanwhile, they invited me to come in and sit down, shewing me where to tie up my horse. Senor Gunther, when he came, was a fine-looking man, above middle height, well set up, apparently about fifty. He looked shrewd and intelligent, with a pair of keen blue eyes and light hair, already beginning to turn a little grey. "Buen dia Senor" (Good morning, Sir) he exclaimed genially, as he came up to shake hands. "I have heard of you." "I, too, am equally pleased," I replied in Spanish. "What a nice situation you have, and how well the trees must have grown!" "Yes, indeed they have," he said, "considering the time we have been here." He said he had a number of milk cows, and had already made a fair amount of Swiss cheese, which sold well, and he had reason to think it would prove profitable, and hoped to increase it. He told me to unsaddle and turn out my horse into a small paddock close by, and invited me to stay and have some breakfast, which would be ready in half an hour. "After this," he said, "if you have sufficient time to spare, I would like to show you round the farm." Our meal was enjoyable, and he pressed me to drink some excellent muscatel wine of a rich golden colour, which he had himself purchased, and brought out from Monte Video. Coffee and cigarettes followed, and he had evidently become able to surround himself with an amount of comfort by no means easily attainable on some of the estancias outside. Of course, we discussed the war, and I then spoke to him as to the business about which I had come. Finally, it was arranged that he should purchase all the hides and sheepskins at the Cerro at the price I asked for them, and he was to send a cart and fetch them away in about a week. He told me they were fortunately situate in regard to soldiers, being out of their track, and that scarcely any seemed to come their way, nor did he think they were likely to unless anything unforeseen occurred. After a turn round the garden, he went and had a look at "Carnival," whom he seemed to admire. I told him I had brought him from the Sierras de Mal Abrigo, where he was bred and born, and that I was greatly afraid lest the soldiers should take him at the Cerro, as we heard so many were coming our way it seemed hardly possible he could escape. He then said if I cared to leave "Carnival" with him I was welcome to do so, and he would do his best to look after him, at any rate until the worst of the trouble we were looking forward to should pa.s.s over. I gladly accepted this offer, with very grateful thanks. My host suggested I should saddle him up now, when taking our turn round to farm, and then just have a look at the Piedmontese Colony, which was not far distant. He further proposed that on our return I could leave "Carnival," now he was here with him, and he would lend me a horse to ride home on, which could be brought back when he sent a cart for the hides, etc. I gladly agreed to this arrangement, and we made a start forthwith. A peon was ploughing on the arable land, using a somewhat heavy plough, drawn by a yoke of oxen. It was a slow business, but had the advantage of turning up the soil fairly deep. The milk cows and a small flock of sheep were feeding together in one large paddock, while some nice-looking young stock and the horses were feeding in the other; besides these was a small flock of fifteen goats, the milk of which I concluded was used in the manufacture of cheese. Near the house was the usual corral to shut up animals, and attached to the outbuildings which were roomy and convenient was a well-arranged dairy.

We were not long in reaching the Piedmontese Colony, which at that time consisted only of one pulperia, or general store, and half a dozen houses, more or less near it. From there the land which stretched away towards the river Plate was mostly covered with "chirca," and evidently at that time but spa.r.s.ely occupied. You could just see the smoke rising from the chimneys of perhaps a dozen mud ranchos, a considerable distance apart, evidently in possession of people only recently settled there, who as yet had not had time to do much in the way of agriculture.

However, I was glad to have a chance of seeing the country, and I wondered as we rode back what kind of future might possibly lie before it. Returning to the house we had some coffee and little cakes served with it. Meanwhile, a chestnut was ready tied up, on which I was to ride home; not very attractive-looking, but good enough for the purpose.

Indeed, in time of war I had learned that a good-looking horse was a certain care and an uncertain pleasure. So I bid good-bye to Senor Emile and his family, with many thanks for their kindness and hospitality, and the request that should he at any time find himself in the neighbourhood of the Cerro, he would not fail to call and see me. The chestnut travelled along quite comfortably, if not very fast, and the sun was nearly down when I reached home. The first thing Justiniano told me was that Robinson had departed. Two men from the stonemason's, who lived on the other side of the Pichinango, had come for him with a led horse, about the middle of the morning, and old Robinson had put together a few clothes and belongings and had accompanied them. The craving for drink had probably been his motive, for the stonemason himself was given that way, and at his house Cana was generally more or less on the go. Old Robinson had always kept up a sort of friendship with these people, much against my wish, for I prophesied they would one day be the ruin of him.

However, the fact I had to face was that I was now without a cook, but Juan got me some coffee, and supper ready on the fire in the galpon, which I myself carried into the dining room, and then I smoked a pipe and thought over my pleasant day. Later I locked all up and went early to bed. Next morning, when I went out, "Napoleon" greeted me joyfully. I had left him at home the day before. The Indians got me some hot coffee at their fire, and after seeing to some things that were necessary, I saddled up the "mala-kara," or bay, with white blaze and stockings, and started off to La Concordia to consult with Jennings as to what I had better do in regard to Robinson's departure. I found him already busy in the garden pruning the fruit trees, and told him what I had arranged with Senor Gunther, and how I was now left without a cook. He said he thought the best thing was to leave Robinson where he was; it was no good attempting to fetch him back, as he would by this time probably be drunk and incapable, or, to say the least of it, very difficult to manage. He proposed to send me a nice-looking young Swiss, called Vicente, who was looking after the "capones," up to the Cerro, to take Robinson's place, and also keep an eye on the southdowns, and I could send Margarito down to La Concordia in his stead. Vicente was handy, and obliging, getting on for nineteen, nor would he at all object to doing a little cooking and housework if required. Jennings asked me to stay and have breakfast, which I did, and said he had received a letter from Don Frederico, written from Santa Lucia, saying all had gone well, and that so far they had travelled comfortably. We saw Vicente before I left; he had just come in from his flock. He said he would be pleased to go up to the Cerro, and would do his best to make things comfortable, and promised to be there a little before sundown. I then bid adieu to Jennings, and rode round by Anjel's puesto. He was out with his flock, and I came across him without having to go so far as his house. He was silent and serious as usual, but gave it as his opinion that Robinson "would come to no good with those people over there," and promised, should he hear of anything further happening, he would manage to let me know. When I got home, we got the "tamberos" up on to their rodeo. No one had arrived during my absence, and I sent Margarito down to La Concordia as arranged.

Early in the following week, one morning just after ten o'clock, Colonel Medina rode up to the Cerro, accompanied by seventy Blanco soldiers. I had met him before, and Don Frederico knew him well, for he lived not so very far from the Pichinango, and we had always looked upon him more or less as a neighbour. I at once invited him to dismount and come inside and have breakfast, a.s.suring him it would not be long before it was ready. As for the soldiers, I said they had better make a fire down below the house, towards the big "manga," and if one was not enough, they could make two. Meanwhile, I would have a couple of sheep killed, so that they could make themselves a roast, as they wanted, and I would send them down a supply of farinha, salt and yerba, in order that they might do what a native always dearly loves, viz., have a rest and suck Mate.

The colonel was a man of middle height, his hair beginning to turn a little grey. I daresay he would be getting on towards fifty. He was well-educated, and had to a certain extent travelled, having held a minor office in the Blanco Government previous to the Flores war, when the Reds came into power. Probably, too, he looked forward before very long to taking office again, when the present revolution should be over, and the success of his own party a.s.sured. He told me he was on his way to Colonia, where a division of the Blanco army would probably be concentrated, to hold the province before very long, but that the main advance contemplated, whenever the proper time should come, was to lay siege to the city of Monte Video itself, and he believed it would be quite powerful enough to accomplish this when a really suitable opportunity should arise. This was certainly good news so far as it went, but at the same time he warned me that the war was as yet far from being over, for the Colorados were still fairly strong on the inside camps, especially in the direction of the capital, where they were able to command the a.s.sistance of both infantry and artillery and also, if necessary, that of mercenary troops as well. I was greatly interested; indeed, I felt quite sorry when breakfast was over, and the colonel said it was time to make a move. Neither he nor his soldiers asked for horses, having a troop of spare ones in first-rate condition, which they were driving along with them. We parted with mutual compliments, and with the usual "Hasta la vista amigo!" (Friend, until we meet again!), and he further told me that if he could do anything for me during the changes and chances of war-time, I was to be sure to let him know, which, to say the least of it, was very civil of him. The soldiers quickly marshalled up near the door leading out of the courtyard, through which he pa.s.sed, and I accompanied him. He then mounted a grey horse, which was being held ready for him, and gave the word of command to go forward, and we all watched them jogging along towards the Pa.s.s of the Pichinango, when that little excitement was over. It came on to rain early in the afternoon, and we got the sheepskins turned over, and put together again, ready for the purchaser when he should think well to send for them.

Early next morning the sun shone bright, and warm, but it did not last long, for a "pampero," or southerly wind, from the Pampas, blew up soon after mid-day, and towards evening it became very cold and stormy-looking. I was able to "repuntar," or turn inwards, the cattle on the northern boundary of the estancia, and also to visit three of the puestos, where I found everything all right. The following day a bad spell of weather set in, with cold winds and constant showers of rain.

However, I kept on the move as well as I could, for it was in stormy weather that a little supervision was most needed. Vicente was an obliging young man, and did his best in his new occupation, and he made me a nice little fire in the gun-room stove, where it was comfortable to sit after supper, especially after having had a bit of a wetting outside. Jennings had given me two little bull terrier puppies. They were an amusing little pair about five months old, small in size, with all the characteristics of a bulldog, except that they were very quick and active on their legs. One I called "Bully"; he was the colour of yellow sand, and the other was a brindle, like its mother, and to him I gave the name of "Brag." As they grew up they hunted the "legatos," a very large lizard, who lived among the rocks, behind the house. They also went with me when I took a gun and went after a brace or two of partridge, and they joined joyfully in the general uproar and barking when any stranger rode up, or indeed near the house. This was so much to the good, as it lessened the chance of our being taken unawares as to what might be coming, always a distinct advantage in time of war. The rosillo had now quite recovered and greatly improved in condition, and I often had him tied up in the courtyard, where I gave him a little maize, which he had learned to eat with satisfaction. I was now able to ride him with my recado, as well as my English saddle, and I made up my mind to take all the care I could of him, for the more I rode him the better I liked him. After about a week the weather became fine, and I decided to ride in to the little country town of Colla, which lay some nine miles south of the river Pichinango, as I wanted to go to the "policia,"

or police station about some business connected with the estancia. I had intended to put off going until Don Frederico's return, as I rather wished to see him before doing so. However, as I understood from Jennings it was more than likely he would not be able to come home so soon as he expected, I decided to delay no longer, but to start early the next morning. I did not want to take a good-looking horse, for I knew the town would be full of soldiers, so I told Justiniano to have the horses in the corral in good time, and to catch me up rather an oldish bay, left by soldiers, nothing whatever to look at, but really a good deal better horse than he appeared, and also to tie up the rosillo in the courtyard, about eleven o'clock, so that he might be safer if anyone came. The little town of Colla lay pleasantly situate on the bank of a small river. It consisted of one main street, with houses unevenly built, and somewhat scattered on either side. About half way down this widened a little, forming a small plaza, or square, where a band played on summer evenings, and people walked round and round, or sat about and listened to the music, and enjoyed also the pleasure of looking at their neighbours. There was a Roman Catholic Church, and some rather sordid-looking barracks, and quarters for soldiers. Half a dozen pulperias, and general stores, and two or three "fondes," or second-rate hotels, with here and there a private residence, often enclosed inside a garden, completed the buildings of any importance, while stretching away behind these, on either side were the smaller houses and ranchos, occupied by natives, more or less of the working cla.s.s. Some of these had s.p.a.ces of cultivated ground attached, and at others two or three cows and a horse or two, and some poultry would be kept, just as happened to be most convenient. There were plenty of soldiers about in the streets, as well as in the cafes and fondas. I rode straight up to the police station, and it was not very long before I was able to conclude my business. Having done this, I did not go to an hotel, as I should otherwise have done, to put up my horse and have some breakfast, on account of the soldiers, but I made my way to the house of a man called Pedro Dominguez. It was next to a large general store, which he owned as well, where he carried on an extensive and profitable business, as a buyer of produce and a seller of merchandise, and had long had dealings with the Estancia Pichinango. He received me with courtesy. A man below the middle height, getting on in years, and somewhat bent in figure, he looked to me as much like a Portuguese as anything else.

"Buen dia, Senor," he said, as I rode up and explained who I was.

"Please come inside, and I can put up your horse in my stable."

Moreover, he invited me to have some breakfast, which was very good of him, for I began to feel hungry after my ride. His house was comfortable, and he had a good sized garden attached, very well kept, and he told me he was a great lover of flowers. While we were enjoying our meal one of the black, hairless dogs, greatly esteemed by natives, trotted into the room. It was about the size of a small terrier, with a perfectly smooth black skin, entirely devoid of hair. It had a pointed nose and a pair of very bright eyes, and they are said to be very affectionate. Senor Dominguez told me he had a widowed daughter and a grandchild who lived with him, but just then they were away on a visit to friends in Colonia. Of course, we talked about the war. He said he had never taken any part in politics, but his sympathies were with the Blancos, and he was very glad to think that for the present Colla at any rate, had seen the last of the Colorados, who he believed as a Government were self-seeking and corrupt, and he felt sure if they were allowed to continue in power, would bring certain ruin on the country.

We had some coffee and a cigar, and it was after two o'clock when I saddled up the bay, and with many thanks for his kind hospitality, started on my return journey. The old horse travelled back faster than he had come, and I reached the Cerro somewhat earlier than I expected.

As the sun declined, it got quite cold, and I was glad to find a fire lit in the gun-room stove to welcome me. Justiniano had got up the "tamberos" on to their rodeo, and the southdowns were already shut up in their yard, as I rode up to the house. "Napoleon" was delighted to see me, and even "Brag" and "Bully" gave me a sort of welcome in their way.

I let go my horse, and wrote up the log-book, and so ended what had been quite an agreeable day. I had the usual "para rodeo" on Sat.u.r.day, which was quite satisfactory, and I saw reason to think we were now getting the cattle well in hand. This was important during time of revolution, when we were likely to have fewer people to look after them. On the next Tuesday morning, I had just got in from a turn round the puestos, when the cart arrived to take away the hides and sheepskins. The Indians gave the cartman some breakfast in the galpon, and we then counted and handed over the hides and skins, for which the cartman gave me a receipt, while I handed to him a certificate that we had sold them. He started for home about one o'clock, taking with him the chestnut horse, which Senor Gunther had lent me to ride home on. The cartman told me that "Carnival"

was all right, and seemed quite happy in his new quarters. The middle of the following week Don Frederico returned to La Concordia. I rode down to see him, and he said he could hardly believe he had been away nearly a month. The fact was his family did not leave for England in the steamer he intended, but waited for the next one, and he naturally wished to see them safe, and as comfortable as might be on board. I told him about old Robinson, and he said the arrangement we had made would do quite well for the present, though later on he should want Vicente back at La Concordia. Meanwhile, however, I could look about and see if I could find a cook. The winter was now pa.s.sing, and every now and again we had two or three days when the sun would be quite warm, with every sign of approaching spring. We saw but few soldiers, and they were only pa.s.sers-by, anxious to reach the end of their journey as soon as might be, but we had every reason to believe a considerable movement of troops would take place before very long. Early in August we had begun to see symptoms of what is known as epidemia, or sickness among the cattle. At first a single animal would be found in the camp dead, looking in good condition, and from no apparent cause. Later two or three might be seen, and in different parts of the estancia. Then you would find here and there an animal looking young and even fat, standing by itself, away from the others, not moving or eating, and with obviously something the matter with it. If taken in time and got to move quickly, and the horseman could give it a sharp run, it would probably recover. Should it, however, have gone too far, all one could do was to kill it, and take off its hide, rather than let it lie down on the ground and die slowly by inches. The epidemic went on for some little time, and we lost a good many cattle, and curiously enough it was much more towards the Cerro end of the estancia than it was at La Concordia. During this time, I was constantly out in the camp, looking up sick animals, and I took Juan and Justiniano with me, to take off the hides when necessary.

Towards the end of the month I was out with the latter having a look round, and we came across a cow evidently very bad, for it could hardly stand on its legs and, when I tried to move it, it seemed only to totter from side to side. I jumped off my horse, handing the reins to the Indian, and caught hold of its tail with both hands to pull it over. I pulled my hardest, when the hair came suddenly out of the tail, and before I could recover myself I fell sideway into a bunch of big thistles which stood near. Unfortunately, I fell right among them, and felt one of the stiff sharp thorns pierce the flesh on the inside of my left arm, just below the elbow. I turned up my sleeve and tried to get it out with my knife but was unable to do so. We killed the poor cow, and I left Justiniano to commence taking off the hide while I rode back to the Cerro and sent his uncle Juan to help him. I then had another try to get out the thorn, but could not manage it. I bathed it with hot water, and as it was getting a bit painful, applied a hot poultice and hoped for the best. September came in fine, and towards noon the sun began to feel quite warm. At the beginning of its second week, twenty-two soldiers rode up, and said they wanted horses. I saw they meant business, so I told Justiniano to get all our horses into the corral. I had the rosillo saddled in the courtyard, so he was all right, as it was unusual for soldiers to take a horse one had saddled, except for some special reason, or because they really wished to be as disagreeable as they could. They were travelling out north, and were evidently pressed for time. They took six of our horses, including the "manchado," which had caused the death of the poor young Englishman, and left us one, an old bay, and he looked a very poor one. However, there was no alternative, so we had to put up with it, but it gave me a reminder of what we had to expect. The two colts we had tamed, now well-behaved horses, they paid no attention to whatever, and for this I was glad. My arm had become swollen and inflamed, and continued to give me a good deal of pain, and I was obliged to have it in a sling. It was rather a nuisance, for it was my bridle hand, but I consoled myself by thinking had it been my right arm it would have been worse, and as it was I could get about as usual. One fine morning, about eleven o'clock, an old negro woman rode up to the Cerro mounted on a rather thin "gatiado," or drab-coloured horse, with a dark stripe down its back, from which is derived its name. She had a maiden with her, black, like herself, mounted on an old grey. Each had a rug thrown over her horse, made fast with a surcingle, on which she sat, and appeared quite comfortable. The old lady asked me if they could stay for a while, and have a rest before proceeding on their journey. "By all means," I replied, and told Juan, who happened to be about, to give them a couple of bancos, or stools by the fire in the galpon, and I also asked them if they would like anything to eat. "Pero con mucho gusto, Senor," "But with great pleasure, Sir," they replied, "and if you could kindly give us a little yerba and sugar we should greatly enjoy drinking Mate, for we both feel very thirsty." Juan soon made up a good fire, and put on the kettle for hot water, and gave them a piece of meat to roast, and some "farinha," and the ladies seemed quite happy. Later on, as I was pa.s.sing out through the galpon, the old one came up to thank me for the hospitality we had shewn them. "But pardon, Senor," she said, "may I ask what is the matter with your arm, for I see you have it bound up. I myself am a 'curandera,' or healer, and I am on my way to see a man who is very ill. Please let me have a look at it." This I gladly did, and she told me it was the thorn still in it which was causing the trouble, but she hoped it might work its way out. She said I must take care of it, as my arm looked to her rather as if it had been poisoned. She further said I was to send one of the Indians down to the wood which bordered the bank of the river Pichinango, and he was to get the leaves of a certain shrub which grew there. I was to make these leaves into a poultice and put it on my arm as hot as I could bear it every night for about a fortnight. Further, I was to put the water in which the leaves were boiled into a jug and drink it cold each morning as soon as I awoke. She interviewed both Juan and Justiniano and made them clearly understand what was the shrub the leaves of which were to be brought: what it was like, and how and where it grew. She then explained to Vicente exactly how to make the poultice, and how much of the leaves to use at a time. Then came the curious part of the would-be cure. The old lady insisted that I should begin it on the first evening of the new moon, and at no other time but then. We were all somewhat impressed, the Indians very much so, for they looked up the "curandera" with a certain amount of superst.i.tious awe. However, I determined to try the "remedio,"

and as there happened to be a new moon that evening I sent Justiniano at once off to the Pichinango to find the leaves. He returned with a good supply of them. It was a small leaf, a little larger than the ordinary tea leaf, and it reminded me very much of the leaf of a small tree known as the "manouka" tree, of New Zealand. So the poultice was duly made; the water in which the leaves were boiled was put ready to drink the first thing next morning, and forthwith the prescribed treatment began.

A few days pa.s.sed, when one morning, between seven and eight o'clock fifteen soldiers rode up and demanded horses. The tropillas had not long been turned out of the corral, so our horses were quite close for the soldiers to see. There was nothing for it but to shut them in and let them take what they wanted. I did the best I could, but they took four and left one, an old gatiado, with a stripe down its back, the same colour as the one the curandera had ridden. The soldiers only stayed long enough to get horses, and then resumed their journey, travell