lurking-holes with a herd of horses taken from the estates of Sta. Fè, set fire to all the woods and plains through which they passed, that their countrymen might be pre-informed of their return by means of the smoke. That night we passed without sleep: for the flames, which approached us before, behind, and on both sides, appeared to threaten us with destruction; and, although we escaped this, we were all very nearly blinded and suffocated by the smoke. A wind arising the next morning, averted the fire and the danger from us. Conflagrations of this kind are very frequent in the immense plains of Paraguay, and often prove destructive to travellers, beasts, and cattle. In this case, as in many others, to escape being burnt alive, we were obliged to leap upon our horses without having time to harness them properly, and to gallop right through the flames, which it was impossible either to extinguish or to avoid. The fire which is kindled by travellers at night, or noon, and which they often neglect to extinguish on their departure, spreads, if a strong wind arise, and sets the whole plain on fire. The tall dry grass, reeds, and bulrushes, extended like a crop of corn on every side, afford combustible materials to feed the flame for many weeks: the woods too, which, being burnt by the sun's heat during the greatest part of the year, abound in pitch and gum, are easily set on fire, and with difficulty extinguished. The smoke often fills the air with such impenetrable darkness, that the sun is hid, and night brought back at mid-day. I myself have seen clouds and lightning suddenly proceed from this smoke, as it is flying off like a whirlwind; so that the Indians are not to be blamed for setting fire to the plains, in order to procure rain, they having learnt that the thicker smoke turns into clouds which pour forth water. Burning the plains, however, is not always a certain method of procuring rain, without the co-operation of other causes: for, during a two-years' drought which we endured, the fields and groves blazed up and down the country for months, and yet the fire never yielded us any water; this caused Father Brigniel to think that these frequent conflagrations dried up the vapours of the earth, which at other times ascend to the sky and coalesce, first into clouds, and afterwards into showers. But from my own observation, I can tell that condensed smoke, not very far removed from fire, is converted into clouds, and sends forth thunder and lightning. This matter I leave to the discussion of natural philosophers, and proceed in the relation of my journey with the St. Iagans.