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ADVERTISEMENTS.

WANTED.—­Bricklayers who can build straight.—­Apply Manager, Michelot.

RIDING TAUGHT by a lady, side-saddle or astride; fees go to
Charity.—­Apply “T.S.,” c/o TACURU Offices.

BOOT CLEANING undertaken in best style.  Gents’, per pair, $1; Ladies’, per pair, for the asking.—­Orders received by “T.C.,” Offices of this Paper.

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“THE TACURU.”

No. 3.

Monday, March 28th, 1910.

Owing to the care with which the mosquito nets had been put up, there were few complaints of bites when the party assembled for breakfast, but the conversation chiefly degenerated into an argument on phonetics.  The different rooms held various views on the harmonizing of sounds.  Had it been a glee competition we should undoubtedly have given the award to the verandah party.  Sleeping on the bricks seems to bring out the sweetness of a treble voice as nothing else can do.  The Saint and My Lady both remarked that they were very fond of music, but they could not appreciate being awakened from their beauty sleeps, by the announcement in a raucous voice of “No, thank you.”  They do not wish for a moment to imply that The Kid was not perfectly justified in refusing whatever she did refuse, but they would like her in future to confine her conversations to the daytime if possible, and to leave their nights in peace.  It was a happy thought on the part of The Jehu to suggest a picnic at the Waters Meet to-day, before our forward move on to Los Moyes, and after breakfast we started out.  First we went to inspect the site where the new house is to be built, then on to the pretty little monte near by, where some picturesque photographs were taken of the cavalcade of riders.  We paused in this tiny monte, for it is an intensely interesting spot from a botanical point of view, and with care and attention should be so for some years to come.  In an extraordinary small compass this wood contains more varied specimens of trees than one would ordinarily see in a day’s journey.  So on to Waters Meet.  Here one is afforded an opportunity for studying the watershed of this portion of Argentina.  Three rivers meet here, the Concha, the Calchaqui, and the Northern Salado.  The latter is the only perennial river in that region; it rises in the snowy peaks of the Andes, in the province of Salta, miles away, and it is not to be wondered at, that, though it is a slow-moving river and meanders through the Gran Chaco, in the times of floods its swollen waters overflow their banks and flood immense tracts of land.  Thomas Page, an American Admiral, in the year 1855, navigated this river from its junction with the Parana to the spot where we were to-day, but when he went up it there was so little water in the river that he had to give up the idea of continuing his pioneer task of exploration.  It had been his intention