meantime, a soldier was holding my horse, and behind where we were sitting, two lances were stuck in the ground, from which the white banner was flying. The General's sharp eyes caught my horse. "That little rosillo seems made of some good stuff," he said. "You had better take good care of him." I told him he had the mark of the Estancia Pichinango, and was about the only one we had left. "Pero que quiere mi amigo? Es tiempo de guerra." ("But what could you wish, my friend? It is time of war,") he replied, with a laugh. The General then told me that a good many matreros (deserters from the army) and bad characters, were said to be hiding in the woods our way, and that he would send a couple of soldiers with me when I went back, who could also stay at the Cerro for a time, in case I should find myself in any trouble. Thereupon I thanked him, and about half an hour later made my adieux. As I left the camp the two soldiers rode in front of me, each carrying his lance, with the white banner flying, while I followed immediately behind. Upon reaching the Cerro, which we did just after sundown, I got quite a reception from Correo and the Indians, in which "Napoleon" and "Ramonou," also "Brag" and "Bully," took part, in fact, they all appeared quite relieved, and very pleased to see me back again. On the next morning, I rode down to La Concordia to see Don Frederico. He was greatly amused when I told him of my little expedition, and at once asked me if I thought the Blancos were likely to be coming our way. I told him I thought not, as from what I had gathered their intention was to make straight for Colonia across country, as it were, without touching the town of Colla, in which case they would not be likely to come near the Pichinango. He further said the two soldiers who had come back with me would be a help rather than a hindrance, for he had been wondering how we could manage to get the horses all gathered up into the "manga" this year, and the foals marked, seeing there was hardly any outside person available. He said that now I had the two soldiers, who doubtless understood camp work, at disposal, he would arrange a day to gather up the horses, with as little delay as possible, and let me know. I could then inform our native neighbours, and possibly succeed in getting a certain amount of help. I rode back by Marmasola's puesto, and told him if he knew of anyone likely to be of any use, to be sure and let me know. That same evening, a little before sundown, a young Englishman, Mr. Frank Turnor, arrived, with three horses and a peon. He was "Major Domo" on a large English estancia up the country, and he asked if we could put him up for the night. This I was delighted to do, and we had the horses collared and sent out to feed. He was a fine-looking young man, with broad shoulders, and a tall, upright figure. We were sitting smoking after dinner, when the conversation turned upon "matreros," men wanted by the police, hiding in the woods,