On January the twentieth, we had three or four very short and slight showers, and on the day following, heavy rain fell and continued without intermission for twenty-four hours. The "seca" had now broken up, the "alhibi" was more than half full, and we had no further trouble in regard to water. Soon after two o'clock on the last afternoon in the month, a party of soldiers rode up, and one of them, who appeared to be their leader, told me I was to go with them to where a division of the Blanco army was encamped, some two and a half leagues to the south-east of the Cerro. As they seemed to attach importance to the request, I did not care to quite refuse or indeed argue the point as to whether I should go or not. Moreover, I thought it would be an experience, and possibly somewhat of an adventure. As it happened, I had caught up the rosillo a short time before, intending to take a turn round the camp. I told them I would be ready in a quarter of an hour, saddled him up, strapped the belt of my revolver round my waist, slipped a light summer poncho over my head, and we made a start forthwith. Meanwhile, the Indians had hid themselves in the galpon, and I bid adieu to Correo, who looked greatly perturbed when he saw me depart. We travelled rapidly along, for something over an hour, and then, as I looked ahead, I saw an interesting scene spread out before me. In a large "rincon," at the back of which was a stream, lightly bordered by trees, were quite a large number of soldiers. Horses were either feeding loose or tethered everywhere. The men were scattered about in every sort of attitude and position, mostly resting and smoking, and some enjoying a game of cards, while others were chatting and talking together, and apparently enjoying themselves. Meanwhile, fires had been lighted in front of which large joints of meat were already roasting. A little to the right, half a dozen "Gauchos" were busy giving some colts they had got hold of a gallop, which, from their appearance, had only been recently caught up. Behind all these, on slightly rising ground, a group of officers were gathered. One of these was seated on some rugs and saddle gear, which had been piled up for the purpose, and he was at the time occupied in sucking Matè through a silver "bombilla," or tube. He was a remarkable looking man, somewhat above middle height, with rather broad shoulders, over which his long hair hung down in a slight curl at the back, swarthy in complexion, with a very keen-looking pair of black eyes. I realised at once that I was in the presence of no less a personage than General Aparicio himself. Meanwhile, he invited me to dismount, and asked me who I was, and where I had come from, and what had brought me there. When I told him, he said, "This ought not to have happened! There must have been some mistake!" Then he continued, "Siente sé Señor," "Sit down, Sir." "Vamos à tomar un matecito," "Let us drink a little Matè." In the meantime, a soldier was holding my horse, and behind where we were sitting, two lances were stuck in the ground, from which the white banner was flying. The General's sharp eyes caught my horse. "That little rosillo seems made of some good stuff," he said. "You had better take good care of him." I told him he had the mark of the Estancia Pichinango, and was about the only one we had left. "Pero que quiere mi amigo? Es tiempo de guerra." ("But what could you wish, my friend? It is time of war,") he replied, with a laugh. The General then told me that a good many matreros (deserters from the army) and bad characters, were said to be hiding in the woods our way, and that he would send a couple of soldiers with me when I went back, who could also stay at the Cerro for a time, in case I should find myself in any trouble. Thereupon I thanked him, and about half an hour later made my adieux. As I left the camp the two soldiers rode in front of me, each carrying his lance, with the white banner flying, while I followed immediately behind. Upon reaching the Cerro, which we did just after sundown, I got quite a reception from Correo and the Indians, in which "Napoleon" and "Ramonou," also "Brag" and "Bully," took part, in fact, they all appeared quite relieved, and very pleased to see me back again. On the next morning, I rode down to La Concordia to see Don Frederico. He was greatly amused when I told him of my little expedition, and at once asked me if I thought the Blancos were likely to be coming our way. I told him I thought not, as from what I had gathered their intention was to make straight for Colonia across country, as it were, without touching the town of Colla, in which case they would not be likely to come near the Pichinango.