into the first fox ever properly hunted in the Banda Orientál. The chase, which had led us far from home, ended close to a large _estancia_ house, and while we stood watching the dogs worrying their victim to death, the _capatas_ of the establishment, accompanied by three men, rode out to inquire who we were, and what we were doing. He was a small dark native, wearing a very picturesque costume, and addressed us with extreme politeness. “Will you tell me, señores, what strange animal you have captured?” he asked. “A fox,” shouted Mr. Bingley, triumphantly waving the brush, which he had just cut off, over his head. “In our country--in England--we hunt the fox with dogs, and we have been hunting after the manner of our country.” The _capatas_ smiled, and replied that, if we were disposed to join him, it would afford him great pleasure to show us a hunt after the manner of the Banda Orientál. We consented gladly, and, mounting our horses, set off at a swinging gallop after the _capatas_ and his men. We soon came to a small herd of cattle; the _capatas_ dashed after them, and, unloosening the coils of his lasso, flung the noose dexterously over the horns of a fat heifer he had singled out, then started homewards at a tremendous pace. The cow, urged forward by the men, who rode close behind, and pricked it with their knives, rushed on, bellowing with rage and pain, trying to overtake the _capatas_, who kept just out of reach of its horns; and in this way we quickly reached the house. One of the men now flung his lasso and caught the beast's hind leg; pulled in two opposite directions, it quickly came to a standstill; the other men, now dismounting, first ham-strung, then ran a long knife into its throat. Without removing the hide, the carcass was immediately cut up, and the choice pieces flung on to a great fire of wood, which one of the men had been making. In an hour's time we all sat down to a feast of _carne con cuero_, or meat roasted in the hide, juicy, tender, and exquisitely flavoured. I must tell the English reader who is accustomed to eat meat and game which has been kept till it is tender, that before the tender stage is reached it has been permitted to get tough. Meat, game included, is never so tender or deliciously flavoured as when cooked and eaten immediately after it is killed. Compared with meat at any subsequent stage, it is like a new-laid egg or a salmon with the cream on, compared with an egg or a salmon after a week's keeping. We enjoyed the repast immensely, though Captain Cloud bitterly lamented that we had neither rum nor tea to wash it down. When we had thanked our entertainer and were about to turn our horses' heads homewards, the polite _capatas_ once more stepped out and addressed us.