cription, having been reported to the Gaucho chieftain, a committee was
appointed to decipher and translate it. When the wording of the
significant hint was conveyed to Rosas, he exclaimed,--"Well, what does it
mean?" The answer was conveyed to him in 1852; and the sentence serves as
epigraph to the present life of his associate and victim, Facundo Quiroga.

[Footnote 1: _Vida de Juan Facundo Quiroga_, etc., por Domingo F.
Sarmiento. Santiago, 1845.]

In this extraordinary character we see the quintessence of that desert-
life some types of which we have endeavored to delineate. As one who,
rising from the lowest station to heights of uncontrolled power, as a
representative of a class of rulers unfortunately too common in the
republics that descend from Spain, and as a remarkable instance of brutal
force and barbaric stubbornness triumphing over reason, science,
education, and, in a word, civilization, he is admirably portrayed by Sr.
Sarmiento. Ours be the task to condense into a few pages the story of his
life and death.

The Argentine province of La Rioja embraces vast tracts of sandy desert.
Destitute of rivers, bare of trees, it is only by means of artificial and
scanty irrigation that the peasant can cultivate a narrow strip of land.
Inclosed by these arid wastes lies, nevertheless, a fertile region
entitled the Plains, which, in despite of its name, is broken by ridges of
hills, and supports a luxuriant vegetation with pastures trodden by
unnumbered herds. The character of the people is Oriental; their
appearance actually recalls, as we are told, that of the ancient dwellers
about Jerusalem; their very customs have rather an Arabic than a Spanish
tinge.

Somewhere upon these _Llanos_, and toward the close of the eighteenth
century, Don Prudencio Quiroga, as a well-to-do _estanciero_ or grazier,
was gladdened (doubtless) by the birth of a lusty son. He called him Juan
Facundo. For the first few years of his existence, we may safely believe,
the future general was scarcely distinguishable from a common baby.
Obstinate he doubtless was, and fierce and cruel in his tiny way; were his
mother still alive, the good woman could doubtless tell us of many a
bitter moment spent in lamenting her infant's waywardness; but we hear
nothing of him until the year 1799, when he was sent to San Juan, a town
then celebrated for its schools and learning, to acquire the rudiments of
knowledge. At the age of eleven the boy already m