How _they_ contrived to endure it, or even to exist, was a puzzle to me; but possibly the _vinchucas_ respected them, and only dined when, like the giant in the nursery rhyme, they “smelt the blood of an Englishman.” I again enjoyed a long siesta, and when night came resolved to place myself beyond the reach of the vampires, and so, after supper, went out to sleep on the plain. About midnight, however, a sudden storm of wind and rain drove me back to the shelter of the house, and the next morning I rose in such a deplorable state that I deliberately caught and saddled my horse, though the poor beast could scarcely put one foot on the ground. My friends laughed good-humouredly when they saw me making these resolute preparations for departure. After partaking of bitter _maté_, I rose and thanked them for their hospitality. “You surely do not intend leaving us on that animal!” said my host. “He is unfit to carry you.” “I have no other,” I replied, “and am anxious to reach my destination.” “Had I known this I would have offered you a horse before,” he returned, and then he sent one of his sons to drive the horses of the _estancia_ into the corral. Selecting a good-looking animal from the herd, he presented it to me, and as I did not have money enough to buy a fresh horse whenever I wanted one, I accepted the gift very gladly. The saddle was quickly transferred to my new acquisition, and, once more thanking these good people and bidding adieu, I resumed my journey. When I gave my hand before leaving to the youngest, and also, to my mind, the prettiest of the five daughters of the house, instead of smiling pleasantly and wishing me a prosperous journey, like the others, she was silent, and darted a look at me, which seemed to say, “Go, sir; you have treated me badly, and you insult me by offering your hand; if I take it, it is not because I feel disposed to forgive you, but only to save appearances.”