Sierras, went exceedingly well over uneven ground, and he felt quite confident he should win the race. On the appointed day the weather was fine, and, as it happened there was no wind. The start was to be at eleven o'clock, and I was one of those chosen to see it made, and to send the horses and their riders on their way. Both apparently looked all right as they jogged quietly down to the starting point. Quite a crowd had collected to see the finish. Everyone wore their best clothes, and the old Cerro for the moment looked quite gay. It had seen many events and happenings in its time. A first-rate start was made, and the horses got away quite even. Then Bent's horse took a slight lead, but at the end of half a mile, to our great astonishment, suddenly collapsed, shivering all over, and breaking out all at once into a thick lather of white sweat; indeed, for four or five minutes he could scarcely stand, swaying all the time to and fro on his legs, like a drunken man. I did not know the least what had happened, but Jennings, who was well up in these matters, at once stated his opinion that the horse had been got at early that morning by one of the natives, who must have given him some poison, probably the leaves of a shrub which grew on the banks of the river Pichinango, for he said all the symptoms were just those which the leaves of that plant would produce, and he had known it done more than once before. These began to pass off during the afternoon, and the horse to recover; indeed, by next morning he looked as if nothing had been the matter with him. Of course, however, nothing could be proved: the stakes had to be paid over, and the bets, which were mostly in favour of the rosillo, had to be paid also. I myself had bet nothing on either horse, so I was no loser, for, unlike Jennings, as a matter of fact, I really had no taste for racing. There was, of course, a good deal of excitement, and some quarrelling, in the galpon during the evening--more especially as that day, being a general holiday, there had been a certain amount of Canya on the go; but Don Juan managed to quiet things down. Then the night came, and as it always does, overshadowed all things. The next morning all the shearers, having received payment for their work, mounted their horses and departed, and the old Cerro once again resumed its usual aspect of quiet and dignified seclusion. The old year passed peacefully away, and the new one came in with all its possibilities and all its hopes and fears. Meanwhile, Mrs. Dampier and the children had returned to La Concordia, from their visit to Monte Video, which really had been prolonged longer than they expected.