Life on a ranch has the glamour of romance about it. The town-bred Englishman, dissatisfied with his lot, lets his fancy roam to the prairies of North America or the pampas of South America, and his imagination glows with the conjured picture of cowboy life--quaintly dressed, always well-mounted, and with nothing to do but ride over the plains rounding up wandering cattle. As I have explained in an earlier chapter, many of the large _estancias_ are not occupied by their owners; a manager with a salary is put in charge, and he usually has several young Englishmen as assistants. There are a number of peons. The manager, usually married, has a decent house. The assistants have a plain, bachelor establishment, and live in common. The peons rarely have anything better than ramshackle quarters. Distances are enormous. Frequently, outside the little clump of trees which is the distinguishing feature of all _estancias_, there is nothing to be seen as far as the eye can range but featureless prairie. The railways may be many miles away. The country has comparatively few towns--really a good point about an agricultural land--and though they are all attractive, only Spanish is spoken. Months may elapse between the visits of an Englishman to a town. He has to rise early; he has to work hard; the glamour of cowboy life soon goes; he and his mates have told each other all their stories; visitors are rare; there is practically no women's society. At first the tendency is to be homesick. But in time the man gets used to the life; possibly he may be happy. He, however, is far removed from refining influences. He may have a fondness for reading, but life in the saddle is so hard that at night, after supper and receiving instructions from the "boss" for the next day, and having a chat over work, there is little disposition to do anything except have a game of cards, and then turn in. It is no unusual thing for an _estancia_ to be fifty miles square. If so, it is divided into three or four sections, with a manager over each. Even then the property to be looked after is extensive. Though for food there is plenty of beef and mutton, there is little variety. The men are out by four in the morning, and breakfast is often no more than biscuits, washed down with maté (native tea). There is a solid meal about eleven o'clock, generally boiled meat, by no means always attractively served. After dark, between seven and eight o'clock, there is supper: meat, coffee, and biscuits. The surroundings are coarse and dirty, and sometimes disgusting. Of course, conditions are occasionally much better than these; but I think I am fairly describing the average quarters of the young Englishman who goes out to Argentina to be assistant on an _estancia_. What gave me frequent surprise was not that the life roughened them, but that so many retained the kindly courtesies of their homes in England.