SHOOTING IN CHILE. 189 



I was twenty-five years old, and I felt twenty-five years 

 old, and I should like to know wliat the world and its 

 cares are to a man then, with his health and strength. 

 I had procured the steadiest horse I could, but alas ! in 

 him I was deceived, as in many other things ; and here 

 I may as well tell my readers that a good steady horse is 

 half the battle in getting a good bag in Chile. The 

 ground is fearfully rough, and, there being very little 

 covert, the birds when once disturbed fly such long 

 distances that a man on foot, even the stoutest walker, 

 has no chance with a horseman: another advantagfe is 

 that you can sometimes stalk a flock of birds with the 

 aid of a horse, as will be seen further on. 



After a ride of four hoars we arrived at the farm, 

 where we were received by the mayordomo, who de- 

 lighted us by saying that the pacharones had been flying 

 about all day, and that he had seen seven or eight ban- 

 durrias. We unsaddled our horses, and let them run 

 into the potrero for the night ; and, as it was not nearly 

 dark, and the larder in the house was rather low, I took 

 my gun and strolled out to some willows that lined a 

 ditch and orchard at the back of the house, to see if I 

 could get a tortolita or two. I had a shot at a couple, 

 but the light being bad, I missed one, and it seemed a 

 waste of cartridges to fire two away for one bird the size 

 of a blackbird. The doctor, hearing the report, came up 

 pipe in mouth, " Look here, young man ! Allow me to 

 tell you that I am particularly interested in your bagging 

 at least ten tortolitas this evening, so please take it easy ; 

 there^s nothing to eat till Juana gets the casuela ready, 

 and that won^t be for three hours yet. Now sit down 

 here under this willow, light your pipe, and just wait.^' 

 So, following the doctor's advice, I lighted up, and_, with 



