Later on, perhaps, Mr. Strange might take a season on some great sheep
estancia out in the Camp, where there were thousands of herds that were
thousands strong. Monsieur Durand could help him in that too. He could
introduce him to wealthy proprietors whose sons he had taught. It would be
a hard life, but it need not be for long. He would live in a mud hut,
dirty, isolated, with no companionship but that of the Italian laborers
and their womenkind. But the outdoor existence would do him good; the air
over the pampas was like wine; and the food would not be as bad as he
might expect. There would be an abundance of excellent meat, chiefly
mutton, it was true, which when cooked _? _ la guacho--_carne concuero_,
they called it in the Camp--roasted in the skin so as to keep all the
juices in the meat--! A gesture of the hands, accompanied by a succulent
inspiration between the teeth, gave Strange to understand that there was
one mitigation at least to life on an Argentine estancia.
To come into actual contact with the sheep, to know Oxfords, Cheviots,
Leicesters, and Black-faced Downs, to assist at the feedings and washings
and doctorings and shearings, to follow the crossings and recrossings and
crossings again, that bred new varieties as if they were roses, to trace
the processes by which the Argentine pampas supply novel resources to the
European manufacturer, and the European manufacturer turns out the smart
young man of London or New York, with his air of wearing "the very
latest"--all this would not only give Strange a pleasing sense of being at
the root of things, but form a sort of apprenticeship to his trade.
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