_Monday, September 25th_.--We slept soundly--speaking for the children
and myself--until we were aroused at six o'clock this morning by the
agreeable intelligence that we had reached our destination. Azul is
about 300 miles south of Buenos Ayres, on the Southern Railway. It is
a small and primitive place in itself, but is situated in the midst
of splendid pastures, both for rearing sheep and cattle, of which
there are large flocks and herds.
Whilst we were waiting for breakfast, we walked a little distance to
see a troop of mares treading mud for bricks. It was a curious, but
rather sad sight. Inside a circular enclosure, some fifty yards in
diameter, about fifty half-starved animals, up to their houghs in very
sloppy mud, were being driven round about, and up and down, as fast as
they could go, by a mounted peon, assisted by five or six men on foot,
outside the enclosure, armed with long heavy whips, which they used
constantly. Some of the poor creatures had foals, which were tied up a
little distance off, and which kept up a piteous whinnying, as an
accompaniment to the lashings and crackings of the whips. On our way
back to the station we saw a horse, attached to a light gig, bolt
across the Pampas at full gallop, vainly pursued by a man on
horseback.
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