So far as the militant programme of the revolutionists is concerned, the first sign of an outbreak is invariably the riding away of a number of men from townships and estancias to the woods in the remoter and more lonely districts. These sylvan rendezvous are, of course, known to the party in general beforehand, and here the leaders of the movement lie hidden in order to await the advent of reinforcements. The first move is simple enough; but it is the arrival of the necessary reinforcements that is frequently frustrated by the precautionary measures of the Government.

Should the matter appear quite hopeless, it is even then possible for the insurrectionists to disperse and to return to their homes ere the shedding of blood has occurred. The Uruguayan, however, is not noted without reason for his spirit of reckless daring. It frequently happens that a forlorn band, once gathered, will refuse to disperse, and then the result of the campaign is usually short and sharp. In the ordinary course of events the adventurers will lie hidden until a sufficient force has come in, one by one, or in parties of three and four. Then they will ride out and commence active operations, of which the end in these days is invariably the defeat of the party.

Many of the attributes of these revolutions are not a little quaint and picturesque—reminiscent, in fact, of the times when personality counted more and system less. In the remote country districts, more especially in those of the north, are many prominent men who occupy more or less the position of chieftains, or that of the old Caudillos who have left so great a mark on Uruguayan history. Each of these is a power in himself, according to the extent of his following; for each can count upon his own particular body of armed men just as surely as could the feudal knights upon their mediæval retainers. These personalities are naturally marked, and their movements are closely watched in a period of unrest.

A Uruguayan revolution, even when in full blast, has this to be said in its favour, that it does not in the least interfere with the liberty or with the movements of a resident foreigner. If he be an estanciero, however, and should the tide of campaign flow into his district, it is likely enough that it will affect him materially in much the same fashion that a strike influences the fortunes of dwellers in industrial districts. It is obvious enough that when the Government is in need of recruits the claims of neither the pastures nor the shearing-shed can rival those of the cause. Unfortunately for the estanciero, there is almost certainly not a man in his employ who is not admirably adapted for a trooper, and none are more alive to this fact than the Government recruiting-officers. Thus, when the official party arrives its members will be polite but firm, and a short while afterwards the station hands will be bearing rifles instead of lassos, and a capataz or two—the foremen on the estate—will find their heads raised a little higher in the air beneath the support of a military title, although it is possible that this may be effected a little at the expense of their pockets, since the pay is not in proportion to the temporary rank.

In the circumstances of haste that obtain at such moments it may be imagined that, with the exception of the Government regular forces, the equipment on both sides knows little of the accepted insignia of military pomp. Indeed, a rifle and a badge in the majority of cases alone distinguish the militant from the ordinary civilian. But at such periods it must be admitted that, putting aside the foreigners, very few ordinary civilians are left in the disturbed areas, since, when the tide of warfare rolls his way, it is practically impossible for an Oriental to remain neutral. Even were he so inclined, it is doubtful whether he would be given the opportunity.

In order to obtain an insight into the manner in which the actual hostilities are conducted no better means could be adopted than the perusal of a novel, "The Purple Land that England Lost," from the pen of a great authority on the River Plate, Mr. W. H. Hudson. It is true that the descriptions deal with a period when the present prosperity of the Banda Oriental had not yet come into existence; but the vivid local colouring must hold good for all the contemporary softening of the national methods.

The spirit of modernism that is now evident in Uruguay has entered to a certain extent into the waging of these internal struggles that themselves by rights should belong to the past. The Oriental is perfectly willing to acknowledge that the dispute concerns himself alone, and the tendency to localise the fields of strife and to respect private property is becoming more and more marked. A certain amount of inevitable damage, however, ensues. In districts where fuel is scarce fence-posts and even railway-sleepers are apt to be employed for the purpose of the camp fires.

So far as the parties themselves are concerned, the tenacity of the Uruguayan character is clearly evidenced in the continued struggles of the Blancos. In view of the fact that this party has not been in office since 1864, it might be thought that forty-seven years of unsuccessful attempts would have cured it of an ambition that has been so costly both in life and purse. Nevertheless, whether openly or covertly, the contest continues with much the same amount of bitterness that characterised it from the start.