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I travelled on one horse, and it therefore took me several days to accomplish my journey. Before I reached my destination, called Estancia de la Virgin de los Desamparados, I met with some adventures worth relating, and began to feel as much at home with the Orientales as I had long been with the Argentinos.

The owner ordered the cow to be released, and never, to her certain knowledge, had cow been milked since at La Virgen de los Desamparados. These ominous croakings produced no effect on me, and the next day I returned to the subject. I did not possess a lasso, and so could not undertake to capture a half-wild cow without assistance.

Sometimes they bring in the stars thus: A lua esta sahindo, Mai, Mai! A lua esta sahindo, Mai, Mai! As sete estrellas estao chorando, Mai, Mai! Por s'acharem desamparados, Mai, Mai! The moon is rising, Mother, Mother! The moon is rising, Mother, Mother! To find themselves forsaken, Mother, mother!

The Estancia de la Virgen de los Desamparados, or, to put it very shortly, Vagabonds' Rest, was a good-sized, square brick house built on very high ground, which overlooked an immense stretch of grassy, undulating country.

On Sundays and the fiestas of the Valencian saints who for Uncle Caragol were the first in heaven, San Vicente Mártir, San Vicente Ferrer, La Virgin de los Desamparados and the Cristo del Grao would appear the smoking paella, a vast, circular dish of rice upon whose surface of white, swollen grains were lying bits of various fowls.