tended towards this, and whether he would have appeared a somewhat different man if he had been cast among other surroundings. He had neither wife nor child, and like Gaitan, was but a poor rider, and I never saw him on a decent-looking horse. But he had usually a dog with him, and I often saw a cat or two when I visited his puesto, situate close to the river Pichinango, some little distance below the pass. Here the grass was good and plentiful, and his flock, which was rather a large one, did very well. He was a most careful and conscientious shepherd, and a skilled worker in wasca, or raw hide, of which he manufactured reins and headstalls, and whips and hobbles; indeed, everything of the kind a well-equipped horseman would require. Just about this time I did not happen to be very busy, so was able to shoot a few partridge, more correctly described as "quail," which were now in good condition, and made a pleasant variation in diet. There was a little single barrel gun available, which I found very nice to shoot with. I also managed to shoot some of the common deer of the Pampas (Cervus Gampestris) with my rifle, the flesh of which is not very appetising, but the skins were easy to dry and soften, and were not only useful as a covering for my "recado," or native saddle, but also served well as rugs for the floor of the sitting-room. The natives mostly chase the deer on horseback with dogs. There is a very curious peculiarity attaching to the young of this species of deer when not more than three or four days old, when the perfection of its instincts at that tender age seems very wonderful in a ruminant. When the doe with fawn is approached by a horseman, even when accompanied by dogs, she stands perfectly motionless, gazing fixedly at the enemy, with her fawn at her side. Then suddenly, as if at a preconcerted signal, the fawn rushes away from her at its utmost speed and, going to a distance of perhaps six hundred yards, conceals itself in a hollow on the ground, or among the long grass; lying down very close, with head stretched out horizontally, and will thus remain until sought by the dam. When very young it will allow itself to be taken, making no further effort to escape. After the fawn has run away the doe still maintains her statuesque attitude, as if to await the onset. Then, but only when the dogs are close upon her, she too rushes away; but invariably in a direction as nearly opposite to the fawn as possible. At first she runs slowly, with a limping gait, and frequently pausing as if to entice her enemy on, just like a partridge, duck, or plover when driven from its young. But as the dogs begin to press her more closely her speed increases, becoming greater the further she succeeds in leading them from the starting point. Truly a marvellous combination of both instinct and sagacity, and also of maternal love.