Through Five Republics on Horseback, Being an Account of Many Wanderings in South AmericaRay, George Whitfield
Religion
Through Five Republics on Horseback, Being an Account of Many Wanderings in South America
Ray, George Whitfield
Ray, George Whitfield, 1868- -- Travel -- South America; South America -- Description and travel
To cure animals of disease there are many ways. Mrs. Nieve boasted
that, by just saying a few cabalistic words over a sick cow, she could
heal it. A charm put on the top of the enclosure where the animals are
herded will keep away sickness. To cure a bucking horse all that is
necessary is to pull out its eyebrows and spit in its face. Let a lame
horse step on a sheepskin, cut out the piece, and carry it in your
pocket; if this can't be done, make a cross with tufts of grass, and
the leg will heal. For ordinary sickness tie a dog's head around the
horse's neck. If a horse has pains in the stomach, let him smell your
shirt.
A RACE FOR INFORMATION.
Uruguay is said to have averaged a revolution every two years for
nearly a century, so in times of revolutionary disturbance the younger
children are often set to watch the roads and give timely warning, that
the father or elder brother may effect an escape. The said persons may
then mount their fleetest horse and be out of sight ere the recruiting
sergeant arrives. Being one day perplexed, and in doubt whether I was
on my right road, I made towards a boy I had descried some distance
away, to ask him. No sooner did the youth catch sight of me than he set
off at a long gallop away from me; why, I could not tell, as they are
generally so interested at the sight of a stranger. Determined not to
be outdone, and feeling sure that without directions I could not safely
continue the journey, I put spurs to my horse and tried to overtake
him. As I quickened my pace he looked back, and, seeing me gain upon
him, urged his horse to its utmost speed. Down hill and up hill,
through grass and mud and water, the race continued. A sheepskin fell
from his saddle, but he heeded it not as he went plunging forward.
Human beings in those latitudes were very few, and if I did not catch
him I might be totally lost for days; so I went clattering on over his
sheepskin, and then over his wooden saddle, the fall of which only made
his horse give a fresh plunge forward as he lay on its neck. Thus we
raced for at least three miles, until, tired out and breathless, I gave
up in despair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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