160 ARRIVAL AT A POST-HUT. 



dried our wet skins ; and our hunger has been 

 reasonably appeased, by some smoked beef, 

 roasted on a stick by our peon. Several wild- 

 looking guests assisted at our repast. 



The postmaster of this solitary spot is a fat 

 portly man, with a goodnatured face, and 

 I have given him some cigars in return for his 

 promises that I shall be provided with a horse 

 " che tiene buen galope." The horses, in general, 

 are tolerably easy, but the last I had was lame, 

 and horribly rough. 



27th. Post-hut. — Instead of flying like the 

 wind across the plains, we are yet only ninety 

 miles from Buenos Ayres. After sunset, yes- 

 terday, we reached a little post-hut where our 

 peon begged that we would sleep, as otherwise 

 we should be benighted on our way to the next 

 resting-place, over a very swampy bad road. 

 We thought it much better to travel over this 



