In this chapter I wish to introduce the reader to the last but one of
the half a dozen of our nearest neighbours, selected as typical of the
smaller estancieros--a class of landowners and cattle-breeders then in
their decay and probably now fast vanishing. This was Don Anastacio
Buenavida, who was an original person too in his little way. He was
one of our very nearest neighbours, his estancia house being no more
than two short miles from us on the south side. Like most of these old
establishments, it was a long low building with a thatched roof,
enclosures for cattle and sheep close by, and an old grove or
plantation of shade-trees bordered with rows of tall Lombardy poplars.
The whole place had a decayed and neglected appearance, the grounds
being weedy and littered with bleached bones and other rubbish: fences
and ditches had also been destroyed and obliterated, so that the
cattle were free to rub their hides on the tree trunks and gnaw at the
bark. The estancia was called Canada Seca, from a sluggish muddy
stream near the house which almost invariably dried up in summer; in
winter after heavy rains it overflowed its low banks, and in very wet
seasons lake-like ponds of water were formed all over the low-lying
plain between Canada Seca and our house.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198