164 A NIGHT SCENE. 



I had brought with me, and fastened to the 

 beams of our dirty shed, I thought I would just 

 go and reconnoitre the kitchen and its company. 

 On one side of a large crackling fire, made 

 in the open air outside the post-hut, sat our 

 large peon, and several gauchos, all with long 

 drawn knives. They were cutting beef off a 

 stick, on which it was still spitted and roasting 

 in the flames. Their swarthy faces, shown at 

 intervals by gleams of light from the smoky 

 fire, looked wonderfully wild. On the side of 

 the fire, close to where I stood, the little horse- 

 man I had before seen, with his white shirt, 

 was lying asleep on a poncho, locked in the 

 embraces of a still smaller brother, who was 

 quite naked. And here, all " sub Jove frigido," 

 they no doubt slept soundly until morning ; 

 whilst I, who had never tried a hammock before, 

 by the novelty of the proceeding, and the mos- 



