o sow alfalfa seed. We had a caravan on
wheels, and learned how to plough and sow. We went to a camp
race-meeting, where every estancia has its own tent, there is racing all
day and dancing at night.

I often look back upon these jolly times. Work was exacted with anything
but kindness, but the life was simple and very healthy, and many
pleasant reminiscences are talked over when it is my luck to join others
around the camp fire before falling to sleep with nothing but a
bullock's head as a pillow and a "recado" as a blanket and the glorious,
starry sky above one.

THE SOCIAL SIDE OF CAMP LIFE.

To an outsider, life in the camps or country might be considered very
slow: the distance between the estancias being so great, the ordinary
form of social life is quite impossible; for instance, when one goes to
pay a call on a neighbour, even a first call, it means going for the
day, starting in the cool of the morning and returning in the evening,
and so allowing the horses to have a rest. Of course, if everyone had a
motor-car, this might not be necessary; but as yet they are very few and
far between. This is no doubt owing to the bad roads; in most districts,
after a few hours' rain, the roads are flooded, and what is worse still,
"pantanosa" (thick, sticky mud).

Most estancieros keep open house, and are only too pleased when people
"drop in," which they do at all times and for any meal, almost without a
"by your leave." An estancia house has to be very elastic, and ready to
provide, at a moment's notice, board and lodging for unexpected guests.
This is quite the nicest way of entertaining one's friends--no fuss of
preparation, and, more often than not, a very jolly evening of cards,
music, or games.

It is a delightful country for men, a healthy, open-air life, with
plenty of hard work and hard riding; each man has from four to six
horses allowed him for working purposes, and then, as a rule (talking of
the English mayor-domo), he has two or three polo ponies of his own.
Sunday is the great day for polo; there is very little time in our busy
Argentine even for a practice game during the week, so Sunday means a
merry meeting of friends wherever there is a polo club in the district,
people going in six or seven leagues (or even more) from one side of
the town to meet friends who have come an equal distance from the other
side, a thing they might not do for months if it were not for the polo
club. Each lady take