35 S The Naturalist in La Plata, 
tlie Indians. I believe they are right, for when 
passing a distant Indian camp, from which the wind 
blew, the horses driven before me have suddenly 
taken fright and run away, leading me a chase of 
many miles. The explanation that ostriches, deer, 
and other fleet animals driven in before the invaders 
might be the cause of the stampede cannot be ac- 
cepted, since the horses are familiar with the sight 
of these animals flying from their gaucho hunters. 
There is a pretty fable of a cat and dog lying in a 
dark room, aptly illustrating the fine senses of these 
two species. ‘'Listen ! I heard a feather drop ! ” 
said the dog. “ Oh, no ! ” said the cat, “it was a 
needle ; I saw it.” The horse is not commonly 
believed to have senses keen as that, and a dog 
tracing his master’s steps over the city pavement is 
supposed to be a feat no other animal can equal. 
No doubt the artificial life a horse lives in England, 
giving so little play to many of his most important 
faculties, has served to blunt them. He is a splen- 
did creature ; but the noble bearing, the dash and 
reckless courage that distinguish him from the modest 
horse of the desert, have not been acquired without 
a corresponding loss in other things. When ridden 
by night the Indian horse — -and sometimes the same 
habit is found in the gaucho’s animal — drops his head 
lower and lower as bhe darkness increases, with the 
danger arising from the presence of innumerable 
kennels concealed in the grass, until his nose sweeps 
the surface like a foxhound’s. That this action is 
dictated by a powerful instinct of self-preservation 
is plain ; for, when I have attempted to forcibly 
drag the animal’s head up, he has answered such an 
