The Ptima, or Lion of America. 41 



or eight years had never shown a trace of ill- 

 temper. When approached, he would lie down, 

 purring loudly, and twist himself about a person's 

 legs, begging to be caressed. A string or hand- 

 kerchief drawn about was sufficient to keep him in a 

 happy state of excitement for an hour ; and when 

 one person was tired of playing with him he was 

 ready for a game with the next comer. 



I was told by a person who had spent most of 

 his life on the pampas that on one occasion, when 

 travelling in the neighbourhood of Cape Oorrientes, 

 his horse died under him, and he was compelled to 

 continue his journey on foot, burdened with his 

 heavy native horse-gear. At night he made his 

 bed under the shelter of a rock, on the slope of a 

 stony sierra ; a bright moon was shining, and 

 about nine o'clock in the evening four pumas 

 appeared, two adults with their two half-grown 

 young. Not feeling the least alarm at their pre- 

 sence, he did not stir ; and after a while they began 

 to gambol together close to him, concealing them- 

 selves from each other among the rocks, just as 

 kittens do, and frequently while pursuing one 

 another leaping over him. He continued watching 

 them until past midnight, then fell asleep, and 

 did not wake until morning, when they had left 

 him. 



This man was an Englishman by birth, but 

 having gone very young to South America he had 

 taken kindly to the semi-barbarous life of the 

 gauchos, and had imbibed all their peculiar notions, 

 one of which is that human life is not worth very 

 much. " What does it matter ? " they often say, 



