A pampered and naive young Englishman finds himself thousands of miles from home on the windswept Pampas of South America. In the isolated village of Las Minas, he soon attracts the attention of the dangerous (and dangerously sexy) locals…
At night we stopped at a pulperia, or drinking-shop. During the evening, a great number of Gauchos came in to drink spirits and smoke cigars: their appearance is very striking; they are generally tall and handsome, but with a proud and dissolute expression of countenance. They frequently wear their moustaches and long black hair curling down their backs. With their brightly coloured garments, great spurs clanking about their heels, and knives stuck as daggers (and often so used) at their waists, they look a very different race of men from what might be expected from their name of Gauchos, or simple countrymen. Their politeness is excessive; they never drink their spirits without expecting you to taste it; but whilst making their exceedingly graceful bow, they seem quite as ready, if occasion offered, to cut your throat.