"--I catch a glimpse of high land,
on part of which there is a convent or chapel; but the whole country is
uncultivated, except in isolated patches near the compounds of the
tillers.

Flocks of wild duck and snipe are seen in abundance; wild turkeys
likewise, with occasionally a group of flamingoes, whose scarlet plumage
forms a strikingly dazzling object in the bright sunshine. Indeed, birds
of various kinds are about us everywhere. Passing through one of these
island passages, you see strewing the banks on the mainland side the
skeletons of cows and horses, while other poor brutes are lying in the
agonies of death; for the mud at the extreme edge of the water is too
soft to support them; hence, when they go down to drink, they are
swamped in its sponginess, and must therefore remain to die.

Steaming on, we pass or meet several small river-craft engaged in the
coasting-trade between Montevideo, Buenos Ayres, and the towns up the
river, until we land at an estancia, where cows, horses, and sheep are
bred and nurtured: the cows and bullocks chiefly for the hides and meat,
disposed of as already described at a saladero; sheep for their wool;
while horses are reared for every possible purpose, and are turned to
use whether alive or dead.

Horses dead! Their skins are tanned; the grease of the mare's body is
used for light, and for many oleaginous purposes. Close to one of our
towns is a rancho or hut belonging to a brick-maker, and there, between
his door and the kiln, is an immense pile--as high as an ordinary
house--of dead horses, whose bodies are to be used for burning the
bricks. Mares' tongues, preserved, are sold in the market as luxuries;
hoofs, skulls, shank, thigh, and other bones of the animal, as well as
the hair of the mane and tail, are exported hence to England, America,
and other places across the sea in large quantities. At the saladeros,
too, they slaughter mares in hundreds for their hides and grease, the
operation being conducted by crunching the animal's skull with a mallet,
after it has been brought to the ground by means of a lasso thrown round
the feet. One can scarcely travel a mile through the camp without seeing
a dead horse somewhere.

Horses alive! At many stations on the river they fish on horseback, by
riding into a considerable depth of water and throwing a peculiar kind
of net, which is drawn back to the shore by the horse. Our letters are
delivered at the door by a rat-tat in regular