158 ELIZABETH GARY AGASSIZ 



as to who we are and the strange countries we have 

 come from. 



The next day we left Chilian very early, having our 

 long day's ride before us. This journey seems to make 

 real for me what I have read of the mode of travelling 

 a century and a half ago in England, posting with 

 five or six horses and an outrider, fording streams in 

 the absence of all bridges; then the number of horse- 

 men on the road, looking to be sure like Spaniards and 

 not like Englishmen, in the broad hat and brilliant 

 poncho, and with the enormous heavy stirrups; then 

 women riding on pillions behind the men, sometimes 

 countrymen with their mates, sometimes the better 

 class of horsemen with a lady behind in flounced dress 

 and crinoline. The life of a Spanish American on his 

 horse is truly a double life; it is fascinating to see 

 them, the man is absolutely one with his horse. One 

 day we passed a troop of laden horses, and a man was 

 trying to catch one that had strayed. He tore along 

 at full speed, horse and man swaying together and 

 sometimes swooping sideways at such an angle that 

 it seemed as if the man must fall off. The next instant 

 he had thrown his lasso and was upright in his saddle 

 as quiet as you please, the horse trotting quietly. 



This night, the fourth of our journey (Wednesday, 

 May 1) we reached Sinarez. This is a small town 

 and we should have fared badly at the little country 

 inn but that a polite Chileno hearing a Senhora was 

 in the case gave up to me the crack room of the 

 house, the only nice one I fancy, so we fared very 

 comfortably. 



