ne anoder in de long run."

Envying his man's unwavering faith, Lawrence sat for some time silently
contemplating the gorgeous sunset, when an exclamation drew his
attention to the opposite side of the landscape.

"Look, massa. Suffin movin' dar."

There was indeed a moving speck--or rather two specks--on the horizon.
As they drew nearer it was soon seen to be a Gaucho of the Pampas in
full chase of an ostrich. They did not come straight towards our
wanderers, but passed within half a mile of them. The picturesque
hunter, bending over his steed's neck, with his scarlet poncho streaming
behind him, and the bolas whirling round his head, was so eager in the
pursuit that he either did not observe, or did not mind, the thin smoke
of the camp-fire. The giant bird, stretching its long legs to the
utmost and using its wings as additional propellers, seemed quite able
to hold its own and test the powers of the horse. Gradually pursuer and
pursued passed out of the range of vision, and were seen no more.

"Just as well," remarked Lawrence, as he afterwards sat eating his
mare-steak by the star-and-fire light, "that fellow might be one of the
many robbers who are said to infest the plains; and although we could no
doubt have protected ourselves from him, he might have brought a swarm
of his comrades about our ears."

"Yes, massa," was Quashy's brief reply, for he was engaged at that
moment with a large and tough mouthful.

A long ride, and a hearty though frugal supper, disposed both master and
man for rest that night. When the last gleam of sunset had faded from
the western sky, and the last scraps of mare's flesh had vanished from
their respective bones; when the stars were twinkling with nocturnal
splendour, and all nature was sinking to repose, Lawrence and Quashy lay
down on the grass, spread their ponchos above them, pillowed their weary
heads upon their saddles, and slept profoundly.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

LAWRENCE AND HIS MAN FALL IN WITH STRANGERS, HEAR GOOD NEWS, AND
EXPERIENCE ROUGH USAGE.

"Lost on the Pampas!" thought Lawrence, on awaking next morning. It was
romantic, no doubt, but--well, he did not follow up the "but" with very
definite conceptions.

As he lifted his eyes towards the horizon, where the rays of the rising
sun were suffusing the sky with a tinge of rosy light, his first
feelings partook of gratitude for a night of unbroken rest, which had
restored a bounding sensation of physic