ASPECTS OF THE VALLEY 45 



river merely as one of the rivers I know. Other 

 streams, by comparison, seem vulgar, with no 

 higher purpose than to water man and beast, and 

 to serve, like canals, as a means of transport. 



One day, to the house where I was staying near 

 the town, there came a native lady on a visit, 

 bringing with her six bright blue-eyed children. 

 As we, the elders, sat in the living-room, sipping 

 mate and talking, one of the youngsters, an intel- 

 ligent-looking boy of nine, came in from play, and 

 getting him by me I amused him for a while with 

 some yarns and with talk about beasts and birds. 

 He asked me where I lived. My home, I said, was 

 in the Buenos Ayrean pampas, far north of Pata- 

 gonia. 



"Is it near the river," he asked, "right on the 

 bank, like this house?" 



I explained that it was on a great, grassy, level 

 plain, that there was no river there, and that when 

 I went out on horseback I did not have to ride 

 up and down a valley, but galloped away in any 

 direction north, south, east, or west. He listened 

 with a twinkle in his eyes, then with a merry laugh 

 ran out again to join the others at their game. 

 It was as if I had told him that I lived up in a 

 tree that grew to the clouds, or under the sea, or 

 some such impossible thing; it was nothing but- a 

 joke to him. His mother, sitting near, had been 

 listening to us, and when the boy laughed and 

 ran out, I remarked to her that to a child born 

 and living always in that valley, shut in by the 



