silk handkerchief tied loosely round his neck, all betokened the "Spanish caballero," the free, independent life of the horseman on the open plain. Quickly dismounting, he carelessly strolled into the "pulperia," with the usual "Buenos tardes Señores," "Good afternoon, gentlemen." But as he passed me I noticed that he was fully armed, and had also an alert watchful look about him, and the thought passed through my mind that here at any rate was no ordinary man. He talked a few moments to the pulpero, somewhat earnestly, and then came forward, raising his hat, and offered me a cigarette, remarking something about the heat of the afternoon. Soon after, I and the boy, having collected our purchases, mounted our horses to return. Just as we rode round the edge of the outbuildings a dark-skinned individual in somewhat tattered garments rose from a low seat where he had been sitting smoking, and came hurriedly forward. "Did you speak to the Señor with the 'oscuro,'" he asked. "Yes!" I replied, "what about him?" The mulatto smiled and showed his white teeth, and then said, almost in a whisper, "You do not know him! Mamerto Godez! Cuidado! (Beware)."

One afternoon just about three o'clock, I was sitting in the dining room writing a letter. It was quite warm, and both door and windows stood wide open. Royd and Henriquez had gone off to a pulperia owned by a man called Saballa, on the other side of the River Rosario, to buy some necessaries. I heard the dogs barking, but paid no attention, when suddenly half a dozen soldiers with the white device round their hats, and carrying the white banner on their lances, rode up from behind the house and halted at the front door. I went out and stood right in front of them. One who seemed superior to the others accosted me in Spanish, and I understood him to say that war had broken out, and that their business was to take up men and horses. Pedro the cook, so soon as he saw them, had gone to hide among the rocks, fearing, I suppose, lest he should be taken off for a soldier, Frenchman though he was! However, I explained as well as my scanty knowledge of Spanish would permit exactly who were employed, and I also told him about our horses. The result of it all was that they rode off more or less satisfied, saying that as "Don Roberto" was away they would call about them another time. About five o'clock Royd and Henriquez returned, having obtained all they wanted, and also bringing news. A revolution had broken out far and wide throughout the country, and a Colonel Aparicio, who had distinguished himself in a previous war, when General Flores and the Colorados were victorious, had apparently taken temporary command of the Blanco forces, which were increasing enormously day by day. That evening we held a consultation as to how we could act for the best. Royd was naturally rather despondent, for the rocky nature of the estancia obviously increased our difficulty in protecting and guarding the stock, besides affording a safe refuge for thieves and bad characters of every kind. This was always a drawback in time of peace, and, of course, the danger would be infinitely greater in time of war. However, there seemed nothing for it but to await events, and meanwhile do our best to keep our cattle and horses together as well as we could. The flock of sheep near the house fed where the land was open, and Henriquez looked after them. Should he be away, then either I or the boy did so for him. The other flock up towards Guaycoru fed also in open country, and Charles Bent was careful and reliable, and could be trusted to look well after them. He seldom went away from his "puesto," or hut, where he lived alone, his sole companion being his sheep-dog, "Bob," which he had brought out with him, when little more than a puppy, from England. He had one or two neighbours on his further side, who were friendly, and he also was no great distance from the pulperia where I had first arrived in the diligence; so up to now he had not found it quite so lonely as might have been expected. The stone manga, where we could shut in horses, and also a fair number of cattle, was in a broken and bad condition, and Royd decided that he would get an Italian stonemason and his son, who lived not very far away, towards the Rosario, to come over and build up all the gaps and so put it in good order. Meanwhile, we had to get the stone from where it lay among the big rocks; no easy job! It then had to be put upon a wooden truck to which a pair of bullocks were yoked, who slowly conveyed it to the corral. Fortunately, for a few days the weather was fine and cool. We all took our share of this work, which was tedious and tiring. We got a good supply by the time the stonemason and his son arrived. The father was a thin, rather careworn-looking man, beyond middle age, with hair fast turning grey; the son, a wiry-looking youth of about sixteen, with black hair and a sallow complexion. With them came a sandy-yellow coloured dog, eleven months old, very thin and lanky-looking, but with muscular limbs, a long, straight back, a broad forehead, small ears, and a pair of very intelligent eyes. For some reason or other he took a fancy to me, and I saw he was well fed, for which he seemed very grateful. He had the look of a lurcher, and was, of course, a mongrel. He was the son's dog, from whom I bought him for a couple of dollars. He was called "Napoleon," and I never altered his name. We saw no more of the soldiers, so we contented ourselves with keeping a constant eye on the horses, leaving the cattle for the time being to look after themselves, nor did we attempt to gather them up to the "rodeo," while the stonemason and his son were with us. Having finished their work they bid us adieu, received payment, and with many thanks, took their departure. "Napoleon" did not evince the least desire to go back with them, for when they mounted their horses he came and lay down by me, showing no sorrow at his change of owners. Following on all this, I resumed my work of riding out among the rocks to look up the cattle again, and the dog seemed very glad to go with me. I had not been at this more than a couple of days when I thought I missed a point of animals I had always been accustomed to find feeding more or less in the same locality. I reported this to Royd, who had not been very well. I think he had overdone himself, when we were all so busy collecting the stone. He decided we should have a "para rodeo," or gathering together of the herd, so as to form a better idea whether any of our cattle had been stolen. So on Saturday morning we all sallied forth just after daybreak, our horses having been tied up the night before. The gathering up, however, was not a successful one, for although we did not let any we saw break back, when we got them upon the rodeo they certainly seemed fewer than usual. From the way they came up we hardly thought any had stayed behind among the rocks. The next day Royd and I took a turn round to visit our neighbours, to enquire if any of our cattle had been seen by them. They welcomed us in a friendly manner, and were all apparently anxious to talk about the war, and to relate all they had heard regarding it. But we could hear nothing about our missing cattle. All, therefore, we could do was to arrange for another gathering up within a week, and two of our neighbours kindly offered to help us. They arranged to meet us at the far end of the estancia, just after sunrise, and a couple of native boys came with them. However, when we got the herd collected on the "rodeo," they again seemed to be fewer than usual, so we shut part of them up in the stone manga, for it would not hold them all, and first counted those outside and then those inside, and we were sadly compelled to conclude that quite fifty animals were missing. Where to find them