e washed and penned, and
anon turned into the enclosures where the shearers were. Lads and lasses
all took part in the work in one capacity or another. The sun would be
brightly shining, the 'jouking burnie' sparkling clear in its rays; the
glens and hills all green and bonnie; the laughing and joking and lilting
and singing, and the constant bleating of sheep and lambs, made altogether
a curious medley; but every now and then Donald the piper would tune his
pipes and make them 'skirl,' drowning all other sounds in martial melody.

But here on Moncrieff's _estancia_ everything was on a grander scale.
There was the same bleating of sheep, the same laughing, joking, lilting,
singing, and piping; the same hurry-scurry of dogs and men; the same
prevailing busy-ness and activity; but everything was multiplied by
twenty.

McGruer at home in Coila had his fleeces thrust into a huge sack, which
was held up by two stalwart Highlanders. Into this not only were the
fleeces put, but also a boy, to jump on them and pack them down. At the
_estancia_ we had the very newest forms of machinery to do everything.

Day by day, as our shearing went on, Moncrieff grew gayer and gayer, and
on the final morning he was as full of life and fun as a Harrow schoolboy
out on the range. The wool harvest had turned out well.

It had not been so every year with Moncrieff and his partner. They had had
many struggles to come through--sickness had at one time more than
decimated the flocks. The Indians, though they do not as a rule drive away
sheep, had played sad havoc among them, and scattered them far and wide
over the adjoining pampas, and the pampero[8] had several times destroyed
its thousands, before the trees had grown up to afford protection and
shelter.

I have said before that Moncrieff was fond of doing things in his own
fashion. He was willing enough to adopt all the customs of his adopted
country so long as he thought they were right, but many of the habits of
his native land he considered would engraft well with those of Mendoza.
Moncrieff delighted in dancing--that is, in giving a good hearty rout,
and he simply did so whenever there was the slightest excuse. The cereal
harvest ended thus, the grape harvest also, and making of the wine and
preserves, and so of course did the shearing.

The dinner at the mansion itself was a great success; the supper in the
marquee, with the romp to follow, was even a greater. Moncrieff himself
opene