Carlos appeared to be well-acquainted with Europe, having been educated in Paris and Madrid, and both he and his wife had paid more than one visit to the French Riviera. The Senora asked me how I liked South America, and I told her very much, but added, "You see this is the only year of peace I have known since I came out from England, three years and a half ago." Meanwhile, coffee and cakes were brought in, and some delicious liqueur, and half an hour later I made my adieux. Don Carlos said I must certainly call and see them again, and asking me if I was a smoker remarked, "Here is a cigar from Habana for you," and accompanying me to the door, shook hands, saying, "Hasta la vista, Senor" (until we meet again). On reaching the hotel, I had some dinner, and much enjoyed the Habana cigar, which I knew to be too good a one to light and smoke in the open street. I went early to bed, with the request that they would call me at sunrise next morning. This they did, having also prepared me some coffee. So I saddled up "Carnival," and reached the estancia just before nine o'clock. I was pleased to hear from Mr. Jardine that Peter was better, having fortunately passed a good night. One afternoon I and Ramon Duran had ridden down to look up some cattle not far from Beatty's puesto. As we were returning he told me there was a big dun-coloured bull, not bearing the estancia mark, which for some time had taken up his abode among the "tarlas," at the far end of the camp, within easy reach of the river bank. He made a constant disturbance among our cattle, his object no doubt being to cut some of them off, and so get control over them, and then form a small point of his own. Ramon suggested that we should lasso him and kill him, and so get rid of the nuisance once and for all. He asked if I would like to go down and assist, and I said I should very much. However, we came to the conclusion it would be better to have three horsemen for the job, so the matter remained for the moment in abeyance. The next day he told me he had seen Robert Mackie, a young Scotchman, who had come out to Uruguay as a boy, and was already something of a camp man, accustomed to lassoing on the "rodeo," and working amongst cattle, who wished to join us in our little adventure. He, moreover, described him as "un joven muy guapo," "a very capable youth," so it was agreed we should all three go in search of the bull on Saturday afternoon. Ramon was to ride his favourite "picaso" (a black horse, with a white blaze and two white hind fetlocks), while Mackie would saddle up a "moro" (or blue roan), which he often rode, as it was well-trained, and a first-rate horse at that kind of work. I was to ride my "rosillo," so we were all to be well-mounted. Our first idea had been that if we came across the bull we should all three try and get round to the far side of him, with the object of driving him in among a point of our own cattle, but on