The biscacho is found all over the plains of the Pampas. Like rabbits, they live in holes which are in groups in every direction, and which make galloping over these plains very dangerous. The manner, however, in which the horses recover themselves, when the ground over these subterranean galleries gives way, is quite extraordinary. In galloping after the ostriches, my horse has continually broken in, sometimes with a hind leg, and sometimes with a fore one; he has even come down on his nose, and yet recovered: however, the Gauchos occasionally meet with very serious accidents. I have often wondered how the wild horses could gallop about as they do in the dark, but I really believe they avoid the holes by smelling them; for in riding across the country, when it has been so dark that I positively could not see my horse's ears, I have constantly felt him, in his gallop, shrink a foot or two to the right or left, as if he had trod upon a serpent, which, I conceive, was to avoid one of these holes. Yet the horses do very often tumble down; and certainly during the few months I was in the Pampas, I got more falls than I ever before had, though in the habit of riding all my life. The Gauchos are occasionally killed by these biscacheros, and often break a limb.

In the middle of the Pampas I once found a Gaucho standing at the hut, with his left hand resting on the palm of his other hand, and apparently suffering great pain. He told me his horse had just fallen with him in a biscachero, and he begged me to look at his hand. The large muscle of the thumb was very much swelled, and every time I touched it with my fore finger, the poor fellow opened his mouth, and lifted up one of his legs. Being quite puzzled with one side of his hand, I thought I would turn it round, and look at the other side, and upon doing so, it was instantly evident that the thumb was out of joint. I asked him if there was any doctor near; the Gaucho said he believed there was one at Cordova, but as it was five hundred miles off, I felt he might as well have pointed to the moon. "Is there no person," said I," nearer than Cordova, that understands anything about it?" "No hay, Señor," said the poor fellow. I asked him what he intended to do with his thumb: he replied that he

had washed it with salt and water, and then he earnestly asked me if that was good for it? "Si! si! si!" said I, walking away in despair, for I thought it was useless to hint to him, that "not all the water in the wide rude sea" would put his thumb into its joint; and although I knew it ought to be pulled, yet one is so ignorant of such operations, that not knowing in what direction, I therefore left the poor fellow looking at his thumb, in the same attitude in which I found him, But, to return to the

biscachos.

These animals are never to be seen in the day, but as soon as the lower limb of the sun reaches the horizon, they are seen issuing from their holes in all directions, which are scattered in groups like little villages all over the Pampas. The biscachos, when full grown, are nearly as large as badgers; but their head resembles a rabbit, excepting that they have very large bushy whiskers.

In the evening they sit outside their holes, and appear to be moralising. They are the most serious-looking animals I ever saw; and even the young ones are grey-headed, have mustachios, and look thoughtful and sedate.

In the day-time their holes are always guarded by two little owls, who are never an instant away from their post. As one gallops by these grave sentinels, they stand looking at the stranger, and then at each other, moving their old-fashioned heads in a manner which is quite ridiculous, until one rushes by them, when fear gets the better of their dignified looks, and they both run into the biscacho's hole.

THE PAMPAS-PROVINCE OF SANTA FE'

TRAVELLING from Buenos Aires to Mendoza by myself, with a virloche, or two-wheeled carriage-entrance behind-two side seats-had two peons-Pizarro, who had already ridden with me twelve hundred miles, and Cruz, a friend of Pizarro. We had travelled for three days a hundred and twenty miles a dayPizarro's fidelity and attention-at night when he got in, his dark black face tired, and covered with dust and perspirationhis tongue looked dry, and his whole countenance jaded—yet his frame was as hard as iron. His first object at night to get me something to eat—to send out for a live sheep-he made a fire and cooked my supper-as soon as I had supped he brought me a candle at the carriage door, and watched me while I undressed to sleep there-then wished me good night, got his own supper, and slept on his saddle at the wheel of the carriage. As soon as I awoke, and, before daylight, anxious to get on, I used to call out "Pizarro!" "Aqui stá la agua, Señor," said he, in a patient low tone of voice-he knew I liked to have water to wash in the morning, and he used to get it for me, sometimes in a saucer, and sometimes literally in a little maté cup, which did not hold more than an egg-shell; and in spite of his fatigue he was always up before I awoke, and waiting at the door of the carriage till I should call for him.

Province of Santa Fé to be described-its wild, desolate appearance has been so constantly ravaged by the Pampas Indians, that there are now no cattle in the whole province, and people are afraid to live there. On the right and left of the road, and distant thirty or forty miles, one occasionally sees the remains of a little hut which has been burnt by the Indians; and as one gallops along, the Gaucho relates how many people were murdered in each-how many infants slaughtered—and whether the women were killed or carried away. The old post-huts are also burnt-new ones have been built by the side of the ruins,

but the rough plan of their construction shows the insecurity of their tenure. These huts are occupied only by men, who are themselves, generally, robbers, but in a few instances their families are living with them. When one thinks of the dreadful fate which has befallen so many poor families in this province, and that any moment may bring the Indians again among them, it is really shocking to see women living in such a dreadful situation-to fancy that they should be so blind, and so heedless of experience and it is distressing to see a number of innocent little children playing about the door of a hut, in which they may be all massacred, unconscious of the fate that may await them, or of the blood-thirsty vindictive passions of man.

We were in the centre of this dreary country-I always rode for a few stages in the morning, and I was with a young Gaucho of about fifteen years of age, who had been born in the province -his father and mother had been murdered by the Indians-he had been saved by a man who had galloped away with him, but he was then an infant, and remembered nothing of it. We passed the ruins of a hut which he said had belonged to his aunt -he said that about two years ago, he was at that hut with his aunt and three of his cousins, who were young men- -that while they were conversing together a boy galloped by from the other post, and in passing the door screamed out, "Los Indios! los Indios!"-that he ran to the door, and saw them galloping towards the hut without hats, all naked, armed with long lances, striking their mouths with their bridle hands, and uttering a shriek, which he described as making the earth tremble-he said that there were two horses outside the hut, bridled but not saddled that he leapt upon the back of one and galloped away— that one of the young men jumped on the other, and followed him about twenty yards, but that then he said something about his mother, and rode back to the hut-that just as he got there the Indians surrounded it, and that the last time he saw his cousins they were standing at the door with their knives in their hands that several of the Indians galloped after him, and followed him more than a mile, but that he was upon a horse which was "muy ligéro (very swift), muy ligéro," repeated the boy; and as we galloped along he loosened his rein, and darting on before me, looked back, and smiled at showing me the manner

in which he escaped, and then curbing his horse to a handgallop, continued his history.

He said that when the Indians found he was getting away from them, they turned back-that he escaped, and that when the Indians had left the province, which was two days after, he returned to the hut. He found it burnt, and saw his aunt's tongue sticking on one of the stakes of the corrál; her body was in the hut; one of her feet was cut off at the ancle, and she had apparently bled to death. The three sons were outside the door naked; their bodies were covered with wounds, and their arms were gashed to the bone, by a series of cuts about an inch from each other, from the shoulder to the wrist.

The boy then left me at the next post, and I got into the carriage the day growing hot, and the stage twenty-four miles. After galloping about an hour, I saw a large cloud of smoke on the horizon before me; and as the Indians often burn the grass when they enter the country, I asked Pizarro what it was? He replied, "Quien sabe, Señor, what it may be?" however, on we galloped.

I took little notice of it, and began to think of the dreadful story the boy had told me, and of many similar ones which I had heard; for I had always endeavoured to get at the history of the huts which were burnt, although I generally found that the Gauchos thought very little about it; and that the story was sometimes altogether in oblivion, before time had crumbled into dust the tottering mud walls which were the monuments of such dreadful cruelties.

It appears that the Pampas Indians, who, in spite of their ferocity, are a very brave and handsome race of men, occasionally invade "los Cristianos," as the Gauchos always term themselves, for two objects-to steal cattle, and for the pleasure of murdering the people; and that they will even leave the cattle to massacre their enemies.

In invading the country, they generally ride all night, and hide themselves on the ground during the day; or, if they do travel, crouch almost under the bellies of their horses, who by this means appear to be dismounted and at liberty. They usually approach the huts at night and at a full gallop, with their usual shriek, striking their mouths with their hands-and this