The last
man was an American, one of those wandering fellows who are never
contented to remain anywhere, but are always pushing on, as if they
thought that the further they went the better they should fare. He
was engaged as carpenter and useful man, and there were few things
to which he could not turn his hand. Mr. Hardy was pleased with
their appearance; they were all powerful men, accustomed to work.
Their clothes were of the roughest and most miscellaneous kind, a
mixture of European and Indian garb, with the exception of Terence,
who still clung to the long blue-tailed coat and brass buttons of
the "ould country."
They waited the next day at Mr. Percy's station, and started the
next morning before daylight, as they had still ten miles to
travel, and were desirous of getting as early to the ground as
possible.
The boys were in the highest spirits at being at last really out
upon the pampas, and as day fairly broke they had a hearty laugh at
the appearance of their cavalcade. There was no road or track of
any kind, and consequently, instead of following in a file, as they
would have done in any other country, the party straggled along in
a confused body. First came the animals--the sheep, bullocks, and
cows. Behind these rode Lopez, in, his gaucho dress, and a long
whip in his hand, which he cracked from time to time, with a report
like that of a pistol--not that there was any difficulty in driving
the animals at a pace sufficient to keep well ahead of the bullock
carts, for the sheep of the pampas are very much more active beasts
than their English relations.
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