Our first care was to find a place where we could put up as we had come prepared to remain a week; so we inquired of the station agent if there was a _posada_ in town. He promptly said that there was none. Then we called on the judge, to whom we had a letter of introduction. He took us to the home of a kind-hearted old woman who immediately agreed to give us a room and board; and here let me insert that in no place in all South America were we treated with more courtesy and consideration than in the home of this venerable old woman, during the entire month we finally remained. Learning of our mission, her three daughters became very enthusiastic and plied us with information about the country, and the vast numbers of animals to be found within a short distance of their very doors. They told us that the country was teeming with vizcachas--large rodents that weigh up to twenty-five pounds and come out of their burrows only at night. We wanted to go out and hunt them at once but, unfortunately, there was no moonlight during the first part of our stay, so it was impossible to go in quest of them. We therefore devoted our time looking for other things. Investigation showed that the country was not quite so barren as it had at first appeared. A short walk took us into a region where there was a dense growth of cacti and thorny shrubbery--so thick in fact that it was almost impossible to get through; many of the former plants were in bloom, the spiny columns being covered with large white, waxy flowers. Here and there a native hut adorned the top of a small rise in the landscape, and near by we were sure to see the inevitable flock of goats nibbling on the leaves of acacia and mimosa, and guarded by bad-tempered dogs. A little distance away from each hovel was a pond of considerable size; these fill up during the short rainy season and their contents are used to water the stock and to irrigate the small patches of corn and potatoes.