MARY’S LITTLE LAMB 125 
devouring them as expeditiously as possible. Once 
she had got hold of a book she would not give it 
up—not all the shouting and chasing after her 
would make her drop it. Away she would rush 
until fifty yards or more ahead of her hunters; 
then she would stop, set it down and begin hurriedly 
tearing out the leaves; then when the hunt drew 
near with loud halloo she would snatch it up and 
rush on with it flapping about her face, and leave 
us all far behind. Eventually, when her depreda- 
tions could no longer be tolerated, she was sent 
away to the flock. 
An English settler in Patagonia I used to stay 
with when visiting that part kept a tame guanaco 
at his estancia, which had a habit resembling that 
of our book-stealing sheep. This animal had been 
captured when small by some guanaco-hunters, 
and my friend reared and made a pet of it. When 
grown up it associated with the sheep and other 
domestic animals and was friendly with the dogs, 
but spent much of its time roaming by itself over 
the plains. He had the run of the house as well, 
but at length had to be excluded on account of his 
passion for devouring any white linen or cotton 
which he could get hold of. But the guanaco, like 
our sheep, was cunning and would approach the 
house from the back and make his way into a 
bedroom to snatch up and make off with a towel, 
night-shirt, handkerchief, or anything he could find 
of linen or cotton, so long as it was white. One 
day my host came in to get himself ready to attend 
