The cardoon is as high as a horse's back, but the Pampas
thistle is often higher than the crown of the rider's head. To
leave the road for a yard is out of the question; and the road
itself is partly, and in some cases entirely, closed. Pasture, of
course, there is none; if cattle or horses once enter the bed, they
are for the time completely lost. Hence it is very hazardous to
attempt to drive cattle at this season of the year; for when jaded
enough to face the thistles, they rush among them, and are seen no
more. In these districts there are very few estancias, and these
few are situated in the neighbourhood of damp valleys, where
fortunately neither of these overwhelming plants can exist. As
night came on before we arrived at our journey's end, we slept at a
miserable little hovel inhabited by the poorest people. The extreme
though rather formal courtesy of our host and hostess, considering
their grade of life, was quite delightful.
NOVEMBER 22, 1833.
Arrived at an estancia on the Berquelo belonging to a very
hospitable Englishman, to whom I had a letter of introduction from
my friend Mr. Lumb. I stayed here three days. One morning I rode
with my host to the Sierra del Pedro Flaco, about twenty miles up
the Rio Negro.
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