I spent several days at the colony; and I suppose the life I led there
had a demoralising effect on me, for, unpleasant as it was, every day
I felt less inclined to break loose from it, and sometimes I even
thought seriously of settling down there myself. This crazy idea,
however, would usually come to me late in the day, after a great deal
of indulgence in rum and tea, a mixture that would very soon drive any
man mad.

One afternoon, at one of our convivial meetings, it was resolved to
pay a visit to the little town of Tolosa, about eighteen miles to the
east of the colony. Next day we set out, every man wearing a revolver
slung at his waist, and provided with a heavy _poncho_ for
covering; for it was the custom of the colonists to spend the night
at Tolosa when they visited it. We put up at a large public-house in
the centre of the miserable little town, where there was accommodation
for man and beast, the last always faring rather better than the first.
I very soon discovered that the chief object of our visit was to vary
the entertainment of drinking rum and smoking at the "Colony," by
drinking rum and smoking at Tolosa. The bibulous battle raged till
bedtime, when the only sober member of our party was myself; for I had
spent the greater part of the afternoon walking about talking to the
townspeople, in the hope of picking up some information useful to me
in my search for occupation. But the women and old men I met gave me
little encouragement. They seemed to be a rather listless set in Tolosa,
and when I asked them what they were doing to make a livelihood, they
said they were _waiting._ My fellow-countrymen and their visit
to the town was the principal topic of conversation. They regarded
their English neighbours as strange and dangerous creatures, who took
no solid food, but subsisted on a mixture of rum and gunpowder (which