Leaving the town, we now proceeded about two leagues across the Pampas to Mr. Frer's estancia. He is a farmer, on a very extensive scale, and possesses about 24,000 sheep and 500 horses, besides goodly herds of cattle. The locusts have not visited this part of the country, and the pastures are consequently in fine condition after the late rains, while the sheep look proportionately well. We passed a large grasseria, or place where sheep are killed at the rate of seven in a minute, and are skinned, cut up, and boiled down for tallow in an incredibly short space of time, the residue of the meat being used in the furnace as fuel. Running about loose, outside, were four or five curly-horned rams, between two of which a grand combat took place, apparently conducted in strict accordance with the rules of fighting etiquette. The two animals began by walking round and round, eyeing each other carefully, and then retiring backwards a certain distance, which might have been measured out for them, they stopped so exactly simultaneously. Then, gazing steadfastly at one another for a few moments, as if to take aim, they rushed forward with tremendous force, dashing their foreheads together with a crash that might have been heard a mile away. It seemed marvellous that they did not fracture their skulls, for they repeated the operation three or four times before Mr. Frer could get a man to help to stop the fight, when the two combatants were led off, in a very sulky state, to be locked up apart.

Arrangements had been made for us to see as much of station-life as possible during our short visit. The peons' dinner had been put back, in order that we might witness their peculiar method of roasting, or rather baking, their food, and eating it; but we were rather later than was expected, and the men were so hungry that we were only able to see the end of the performance. Mr. Frer had also sent a long way across the Pampas for some wild horses, belonging to him, in order that we might see them lassoed; and Colonel Donovan had brought with him one of his best domidors, or horse-breakers, that we might have an opportunity of seeing an unbroken colt caught and backed for the first time.

About a hundred horses were driven into a large corral, and several gauchos and peons, some on horseback and some on foot, exhibited their skill with the lasso, by catching certain of the animals, either by the fore leg, the hind leg, or the neck, as they galloped round and round at full speed. The captured animal got a tremendous fall in each case, and if the mounted horse was not very clever and active, he and his rider were very likely to be thrown down also. There was the risk too of the man receiving an injury from the lasso itself, if it should happen to get round his body, in which case he would probably be almost cut in half by the sudden jerk.

Lassoing Horses
[View full size illustration.]

The next proceeding was to cast a lasso at a potro, or unbroken colt, who was galloping about in the very centre of the troop, at full speed. His fore legs were caught dexterously in the noose, which brought him up, or rather down, instantly, head over heels. Another lasso was then thrown over his head, and drawn quite tight round his neck, and a bridle, composed of two or three thongs of raw hide, was forced into his mouth by means of a slip-knot rein. A sheepskin saddle was placed on his back, the man who was to ride him standing over him, with one foot already in the stirrup. All this time the poor horse was lying on the ground, with his legs tied close together, frightened almost out of his life, trembling in every limb, and perspiring from every pore. When the man was ready, the horse's legs were loosened sufficiently to allow him to rise, and he was then led outside the corral. The lassoes were suddenly withdrawn, and he dashed forwards, springing and plunging upwards, sideways, downwards, in every direction, in the vain effort to rid himself of his unaccustomed load. The man remained planted, like a rock, in the saddle, pulling hard at the bridle, while a second domidor, mounted on a tame horse, pursued the terrified animal, striking him with a cruel whip to make him go in the required direction. After about ten minutes of this severe exercise, the captive returned to the corral, exhausted, and perfectly cowed, and showing no desire to rejoin his late companions. In order to complete the process of breaking him in, we were told that it would be necessary to keep him tied up for two or three days, rather short of food, and to repeat daily the operation of saddling, bridling, and mounting, the difficulty being less on each occasion, until at last he would become as quiet as a lamb.

We now saw our train approaching, orders having been given for it to come as far as it could from the station to meet us. We wished good-bye to Mr. Frer and his party, and, with many thanks to all, got into our carriages and drove across the plains to the railway. On our way we passed some large lagunes, full of wild fowl, and surrounded by scarlet flamingoes and pelicans. The ground we had to traverse was very boggy; so much so, that two of the carriages got stuck, and their occupants had to turn out and walk. At last we reached the train, and climbed into the cars, where we found an excellent luncheon prepared, which we ate whilst the train dashed along at the rate of forty miles an hour. About seven o'clock we stopped for tea and coffee, and the children were put to bed. By nine we had reached the junction for Buenos Ayres, where an engine met us, and took most of our party into the city, in one of the cars, while we went on to Punta Lara, the station for Ensenada.

On arriving we were met by several of our men, who had been allowed to go ashore at Buenos Ayres on Sunday morning, and had not been able to rejoin the yacht since. On Sunday night, when they were to have returned, it was impossible for them to get off. Even the whale-boat was nearly dashed to pieces, at anchor, near the pier. They spent the early part of Monday morning in hunting everywhere with the pilot for the lost steward, and at last left the shore just in time to see the yacht steaming down the river, with only half her crew on board, and without a pilot. It seems they had been waited for from eight o'clock until eleven; it then became necessary to get under way, for fear of losing the tide. As it was, the yacht had not been able to get near the pier at Ensenada, and was now lying in the river, two miles out. The station-master, having been informed of the state of affairs, very kindly had steam got up in the railway tug to take us off. The children, with their nurses, remained in bed in the car, which was shunted into a siding until the morning, the doctor staying on shore in charge. The rest of us then set out for the yacht, which we reached at 1 a.m., only to be greeted with the pleasing intelligence that no fresh provisions had arrived on board for the party of friends we were expecting. The captain of the tug was good enough to promise to do what he could for us on shore; but everything is brought here from Buenos Ayres, and it is too late to telegraph for a supply. We cannot help fearing that something must have happened to our steward, for he has always been most steady and respectable hitherto, and I fancy Buenos Ayres is rather a wild place. Every inquiry is to be made, and I can only trust the morning may bring us some news.