106 RAMBLES AFTER SPORT. 



througli this performance at least twenty times a day, 

 and keeps at it for about fifteen years, his life can hardly 

 be called one of unalloyed enjoyment. When he has not 

 a single leg to stand on, his ears flicked off or worn down 

 by cuts from the whip, his body so covered with sores 

 that his hide is valueless — then, and not till then, does 

 the wretched beast end his days as food for dogs. Oh 

 for a Humane Society in Chile ! They are the cruellest, 

 as they are the most ignorant people in the whole 

 world. I saw myself, in the streets of Valparaiso, a 

 wretched mule run over by a street car ; one of the 

 wheels cut off one of its fore-feet just at the fetlock ; the 

 driver of the poor animal beat it till it got up, and then 

 drove it along a cobble-paved street more than a mile. 

 The street was crowded with passers-by at the time, not 

 one of whom manifested the least sympathy with the 

 poor beast, but one or two expressed their admiration 

 at the cleverness of the wmleteer in getting his mule along 

 in that state. 



I delivered my letters of introduction to Mr. Garland, 

 a gentleman well known all through South America, I 

 might almost say, as a sportsman and for his good quali- 

 ties; and not only he, but his brother and his cousin, 

 the former of whom for years kept the pack of foxhounds 

 at Valparaiso, and the latter is the general promoter of, 

 and authority on sport in the country. I can only state 

 that during the whole of my three years^ residence in 

 Chile I received such innumerable acts of kindness at 

 their hands that I look back at that country as my second 

 home. 



Mr. G. immediately placed his house, or rather rooms, 

 at my disposal. Putting my baggage on a bullock -cart 

 to be sent out to his villa, we proceeded to the stables. 



