n so long sadly dwelling.
Cypriano, too, appears to take an interest in the subject of discourse;
and to encourage it the gaucho rejoins, in gleeful tones:

"Well, Senor Ludwig; I don't know much about those far-away countries
you speak of, for I've not had any great deal of schooling. But I do
know, that _algarobia_ beans are not such bad eating; that is if
properly prepared for it. In the States of Santiago and Tucuman, which
are the places I spoke of having travelled through, the people almost
live on them; rich and poor, man as well as beast. And we may be glad
to make breakfast on them, if not supper; though I still trust something
more dainty may drop upon us. I'm not so hopeful as to expect manna,
like that which rained down upon Moses; but there's many an eatable
thing to be had in this Chaco wilderness, too--for those who know how to
look for it. _Ay Dios_!" he adds, after a pause, with his eyes turned
towards the ford, "those long-legged gentry don't seem to care about
coming back there. No doubt, the screams of that fellow I throttled
have frightened them off for good. So I suppose we must give the birds
up, for this night anyhow. Just possible, in the morning they'll be as
hungry as ourselves, and pay their fishing-ground a very early visit."

Saying this, the gaucho relapses into silence, the others also ceasing
to converse. They all feel a certain lethargy, which calls for repose;
and for a while all three lie without speaking a word, their heads
resting on their _recados_--the only sound heard being the "crump-crump"
of their horses' teeth grinding the _algarobia_ pods into pulp.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

A CHAT ABOUT ELECTRIC EELS.

The silence of the camp is not of long continuance; Gaspar being the
first to break it. For the gaucho, having a stronger stomach, and
consequently a quicker digestion than the others, feels some incipient
sensations of hunger.

"I only wish," he says, "we could get hold of one of the brutes that
battered us so in the stream. If we could, it would furnish us with a
supper fit for a king."

"What!" exclaims Ludwig, raising his head in surprise, "one of the
electric eels? Is it that you're speaking of, Gaspar?"

"Ay, _senorito_; just that."

"Surely you wouldn't eat _it_, would you?"

"Wouldn't I? If I had one here now, you'd soon see."

"But are they really good to eat?"

"Good to eat! I should think they are; and if you could but taste them
yourse