O bear me far--O bear me far,
On swift, sure feet, my trusty steed:
I do not love the burial-ground,
But I shall sleep upon the plain,
Where long green grass shall round me wave--
Over me graze wild herds of cattle.
CHAPTER III
Leaving the eloquent old horse-tamer's _rancho_ early next morning,
I continued my ride, jogging quietly along all day and, leaving the
Florida department behind me, entered upon that of the Durazno. Here
I broke my journey at an _estancia_ where I had an excellent
opportunity of studying the manners and customs of the Orientals, and
where I also underwent experiences of a mixed character and greatly
increased my knowledge of the insect world. This house, at which I
arrived an hour before sunset to ask for shelter ("permission to
unsaddle" is the expression the traveller uses), was a long, low
structure, thatched with rushes, but the low, enormously thick walls
were built of stone from the neighbouring sierras, in pieces of all
shapes and sizes, and presenting, outwardly, the rough appearance of
a stone fence. How these rudely piled-up stones, without cement to
hold them together, had not fallen down was a mystery to me; and it
was more difficult still to imagine why the rough interior, with its
innumerable dusty holes and interstices, had never been plastered.
I was kindly received by a very numerous family, consisting of the
owner, his hoary-headed old mother-in-law, his wife, three sons, and
five daughters, all grown up.
Pages:
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43