§4 TOWN OF BUENOS AIRES. 



ing, or rather roaring to each other. The ground 

 in every direction was covered with groups of large 

 white gulls, some of which were earnestly pecking 

 at the slops of blood which they had surrounded, 

 while others were standing upon their tip-toes, and 

 flapping their wings as if to recover their appetite. 

 Each slop of blood was the spot where a bullock 

 had died ; it was all that was left of his history, 

 and pigs and gulls were rapidly consuming it. 

 Early in the morning no blood was to be seen ; a 

 number of horses, with the lassos hanging to their 

 saddles, were standing in groups apparently asleep : 

 the mataderos were either sitting or lying on the 

 ground close to the stakes of the corral, and 

 smoking segars; while the cattle, without metaphor, 

 were waiting until the last hour of their existence 

 should strike; for as soon as the clock of the lieco- 

 lata struck, the men all vaulted on their horses, 

 the gates of all the cells were opened, and in a 

 very few seconds, there was a scene of apparent 

 confusion which it is quite impossible to describe. 

 Every man had a wild bullock at the end of his 

 lasso ; some of these animals were running away 

 from the horses, and some were running at them ; 



