keep him in sight, for half a mile or a mile, and never recover its dam.
The gaucho, who is not merciful, frequently saves himself all trouble
and delay by knocking it senseless with a blow of his whip-handle, and
without checking his horse. I have seen a lamb, about two days old,
start up from sleep, and immediately start off in pursuit of a puff ball
about as big as a man's head, carried past it over the smooth turf by
the wind, and chase it for a distance of five hundred yards, until the
dry ball was brought to a stop by a tuft of coarse grass. This
blundering instiuct is quickly laid aside when the lamb has learned to
distinguish its dam from other objects, and its dam's voice from other
sounds. When four or five days old it will start from sleep, but instead
of rushing blindly away after any receding object, it first looks about
it, and will then recognize and run to its dam.

I have often been struck with the superiority of the pampa or
creolla--the old native breed of sheep--in the greater vigour of the
young when born over the improved European varieties. The pampa descends
to us from the first sheep introduced into La Plata about three
centuries ago, and is a tall, gaunt bony animal, with lean dry flesh,
like venison, and long straight wool, like goats' hair. In their
struggle for existence in a country subject to sudden great changes of
temperature, to drought, and failure of grass, they have in a great
measure lost the qualities which make the sheep valuable to man as a
food and wool-producing animal; but on the other hand they have to some
extent recovered the vigour of a wild animal, being hardy enough to
exist without any shelter, and requiring from their master man only
protection from the larger carnivores. They are keen-scented, swift of
foot and Wonderfully active, and thrive where other breeds would quickly
starve. I have often seen a lamb dropped on the frosty ground in
bitterly cold windy weather in midwinter, and in less than five seconds