It is impossible to give anything like an accurate estimate of the number of red inhabitants of Patagonia, either now or at any period since the days of Magellan. The Rev. Titus Coan thought the Tehuelche tribe numbered 1000 in 1833. Don Ramon Lista, an Argentine writer and explorer of good repute, says that when he was among them just before the war of extermination they numbered 500 warriors, or nearly 3000 souls all told. There are now a few at Coy Inlet, a few hanging about each settlement, and a few along the Andes--perhaps 500 all told, according to the gauchos. For an estimate of the Tehuelche mental calibre we can readily resort to their mythology, fables and proverbs of which, fortunately for ethnologists, a number have been preserved. The scientific world is especially indebted to Don Ramon Lista, who was careful, when among the Tehuelches, to collect as much of what may be called their literature as possible. As examples, here are two Tehuelche fables: THE FATE OF THE BOASTER. A fox challenged a stone to run a race. The stone begged to be excused. "Let us run down the slope of this hill," insisted the fox. "I am very sorry, but you had better keep out of my way." "You think to overtake me? What foolishness! I run like the wind." "We will run," said the stone. The fox darted away like an arrow. The stone began to roll, and then to jump and to jump, until it wounded to death its rival just as he was arriving at the foot of the hill. THE REWARD OF A DESIRE FOR VAIN DISPLAY. A panther met a fox wearing a crown tuft. "What a beautiful ornament you wear! How did you make it?" said the panther. "Very easily," said the fox. "I cut open the head with a flint, and then introduced into the wound the beautiful plumes of an ostrich." "How admirable! I wish to go through the same process. Would you take the trouble to do it for me?" "With a thousand pleasures." And the fox rasped the head of the panther till the skull got thin, and then broke it in with one stroke of the flint. So the panther died. Here are three proverbs: The dog follows the fox and kills it, but then comes the panther and kills the dog. Nothing spurious can be good. The little feather flies more swiftly than the great one. * * * * *