once off to the Pichinango to find the leaves. He returned with a good supply of them. It was a small leaf, a little larger than the ordinary tea leaf, and it reminded me very much of the leaf of a small tree known as the "manouka" tree, of New Zealand. So the poultice was duly made; the water in which the leaves were boiled was put ready to drink the first thing next morning, and forthwith the prescribed treatment began. A few days passed, when one morning, between seven and eight o'clock fifteen soldiers rode up and demanded horses. The tropillas had not long been turned out of the corral, so our horses were quite close for the soldiers to see. There was nothing for it but to shut them in and let them take what they wanted. I did the best I could, but they took four and left one, an old gatiado, with a stripe down its back, the same colour as the one the curandera had ridden. The soldiers only stayed long enough to get horses, and then resumed their journey, travelling north. The weather was now getting warm, when one afternoon about four o'clock, an elderly negro rode up to the Cerro, mounted on a very poor-looking old "bayo," or cream-coloured horse. The Indians, who had been out in the camp, were sitting by the galpon fire, sucking Mate. I was in the courtyard unsaddling the rosillo, whom I had been riding, but not far away. I heard a great barking of dogs, "Napoleon's" voice being loud among them; "Brag" and "Bully" were also doing their best to increase the noise. I passed out through the small door, and there was an old man, surrounded by the barking dogs, sitting quietly on his horse, calling out "Ave Maria," the customary form of salutation, and waiting for someone to ask him to dismount. This I did, and he enquired if here was the Cerro del Pichinango, and if I would allow him to put up in the galpon for the night. As for his horse, he said it was worth very little, and if let go he did not think it would move far away. He looked tired, and weary, as did his steed, and said what most he needed was a real good sleep. He had a bundle with him, tied up in a roll at the back of his old "recado," a battered black felt hat and a much-dilapidated summer poncho, while some old "bombachos" and a pair of alpargatas, or canvas shoes, completed his attire. I told him to make himself comfortable, and left him to rest as I was just thinking of saddling up the bay colt we had tamed, and riding down to Marmasola's puesto. I found his flock quite near it, ready to be shut in for the night. He himself was at home, and he told me that a soldier who had passed by not long before had told him there had been an engagement some distance out beyond Guaycoru, and that the Blancos had been victorious, and had driven the Reds off in full flight to the north of the Sierras de Mal Abrigo, and so on towards the province of San Jose. How far this was really true, and whether it was an affair of much importance he did not know.