244 



THE PAMPAS. 



The post-house of San Luis is also in a state 

 which would scarcely be credited. It is in nothing 

 better than the post-huts of the Pampas; it has no 

 window, the door cannot be shut, and it is more 

 filthy than can well be described. It was late 

 before the carriage was ready ; however as I was 

 anxious it should get on, it started with three 

 changes of horses, about an hour before sunset, to 

 go to the next post, which is thirty-six miles. I 

 rode by a different road, and it was settled that we 

 should all get on by moonlight ; however, as soon 

 .as the sun set the weather began to look wild, and 

 it became very cloudy and dark. I continued to 

 gallop until I could not see my hand before me, 

 and as I knew there were many holes and bisca- 

 cheros, we then slackened to an ambling canter. It 

 is really very nervous, disagreeable work even to 

 canter over a strange country when it is quite dark ; 

 however, I was anxious if possible to reach the post, 

 as it was the nearest hut we could get to. I was can- 

 tering along, expecting every moment to tumble 

 head over heels, when my horse suddenly struck his 

 chest against the back of the Gaucho's horse, which 

 was standing still. As soon as I found out what it 



