As night came on, a brilliant scene was developed before us. As far as the eye could reach, we beheld the ruddy glow of a distant conflagration of the pampa herbage. Fortunately it did not approach us, but after giving us a view of one of the most sublime and magnificent sights in nature, it faded at last away into the south.
During the night I suffered much from the cold.
I was awakened on the following morning (Sunday) by my peon, who gave me to understand, by gestures, that the asado was prepared. As I joined the company at the fire, the patron approached us with a poncho filled with watermelons, which he had purchased at the estancia house on the mound; of these we ate heartily, and they were delicious.
As the pieces of rind fell to the ground, they were eagerly devoured by the dogs, and by two little children that accompanied the troop. I often pitied these little neglected creatures, and shared with them my fare. I gave them a portion of my share of the melons, and their gratitude was warm and demonstrative: they were going to Mendoza with their mother, the wife of one of the drivers.
This was the first Sunday spent on the road; and as there was a plenty of thistles for our fire, and good grass for the cattle, the day was passed without leaving camp, the gauchos amusing themselves with a pack of cards.
I had with me an illustrated Testament. The peons, after gazing intently upon a picture of the crucifixion, declared that I was a Cristiano, and invited me to play cards with them.
During the next day we saw a plenty of wire-grass, and at least thirty deer grazed within a mile of the wagons. No cattle were to be seen. The wind, which blew from the north-east, was very warm. Our course was west.
In a halt which we made during the day’s travel, I turned my blanket into a poncho, by cutting a hole in the middle, and thrusting my head through the aperture. When the gauchos saw my new garment, they shouted in admiration; and one or two, who could speak a little Spanish, exclaimed, “Gaucho, Bostron!”
At dark we camped near a corral, or cattle-yard, formed of the tunas, a species of wild cactus. At supper we ate our last morsel of meat brought from Rosario; the bones were heated upon the fire, then broken, and the marrow greedily eaten by the men.
Throughout the night the mosquitos and flies tormented me, until I was obliged to roll my head in a blanket.