was not a ranche between the Colorado and Buenos Ayres in
nearly such neat order as his. He had a little room for
strangers, and a small corral for the horses, all made of
sticks and reeds; he had also dug a ditch round his house
as a defence in case of being attacked. This would, however,
have been of little avail, if the Indians had come; but
his chief comfort seemed to rest in the thought of selling
his life dearly. A short time before, a body of Indians had
travelled past in the night; if they had been aware of the
posta, our black friend and his four soldiers would assuredly
have been slaughtered. I did not anywhere meet a more
civil and obliging man than this negro; it was therefore
the more painful to see that he would not sit down and eat
with us.

In the morning we sent for the horses very early, and
started for another exhilarating gallop. We passed the
Cabeza del Buey, an old name given to the head of a large
marsh, which extends from Bahia Blanca. Here we changed
horses, and passed through some leagues of swamps and
saline marshes. Changing horses for the last time, we again
began wading through the mud. My animal fell and I was
well soused in black mire -- a very disagreeable accident
when one does not possess a change of clothes. Some miles
from the fort we met a man, who told us that a great gun
had been fired, which is a signal that Indians are near. We
immediately left the road, and followed the edge of a marsh,
which when chased offers the best mode of escape. We
were glad to arrive within the walls, when we found all the
alarm was about nothing, for the Indians turned out to be