As I reached the bed of the gully, the sun showed itself above the horizon, and the misty haze that filled the deep valley was riven and dispersed in eddying vapor before the warm breath of day. The curtain risen, there lay before me a wide level space of the finest alluvial soil, over which, it would appear, the stream at times extended, when swollen with the melting snows of the Andes; but it was now confined to narrow limits in the centre, now and then extending into large water-holes, where the softer soil had been washed away, or a diverging bend of the stream had given more power to its waters. The scene was calm, happy nature illuminated by the glow of a tropical sunrise, for it was December, and the sun had almost attained the tropic of Capricorn. But my uncomfortable limbs, twitching with the effects of numberless musqueto bites, would not permit me to enjoy, for any lengthened time, the beauties of nature; so, divesting myself of my apparel, I took my position on a flat rock in the stream, and plied my person with frequent showers of water that I cast over myself, by the aid of a large vessel I had brought from the hacienda. At the spot where I stood, the stream nearly approached the opposite side of the gully to that on which the buildings were erected, and during a pause in my occupation, my attention was drawn to a rustling noise among the low brushwood that lined the face of the precipitous descent. They were times of danger and peril; vast numbers of Indians were known to be scattered over the pampas, and so daring had they become, by a large accession of numbers from the tribes of the lower Sanquel river, that they had even taken and plundered several villages along the foot of the mountains, in the direction of the route to Paraguay. Accustomed to caution, therefore, the rustling sound was not passed unnoticed, but with a keen glance I scanned the direction whence the sound had proceeded; but naught told of the existence of any living thing, much less danger.