astern.

At night we came to the house of Don Juan Fuentes, a
rich landed proprietor, but not personally known to either
of my companions. On approaching the house of a stranger,
it is usual to follow several little points of etiquette: riding
up slowly to the door, the salutation of Ave Maria is given,
and until somebody comes out and asks you to alight, it is
not customary even to get off your horse: the formal answer
of the owner is, "sin pecado concebida" -- that is, conceived
without sin. Having entered the house, some general conversation
is kept up for a few minutes, till permission is
asked to pass the night there. This is granted as a matter
of course. The stranger then takes his meals with the family,
and a room is assigned him, where with the horsecloths
belonging to his recado (or saddle of the Pampas) he makes
his bed. It is curious how similar circumstances produce
such similar results in manners. At the Cape of Good Hope
the same hospitality, and very nearly the same points of
etiquette, are universally observed. The difference, however,
between the character of the Spaniard and that of the Dutch
boer is shown, by the former never asking his guest a single
question beyond the strictest rule of politeness, whilst the
honest Dutchman demands where he has been, where he is
going, what is his business, and even how many brothers
sisters, or children he may happen to have.

Shortly after our arrival at Don Juan's, one of the largest
herds of cattle was driven in towards the house, and three
beasts were picked out to be slaughtered for the supply of