This history of a house that had been was told in the shade, one summer's day, by Nicandro, that old man to whom we all loved to listen, since he could remember and properly narrate the life of every person he had known in his native place, near to the lake of Chascomus, on the southern pampas of Buenos Ayres. In all this district, though you should go twenty leagues to this way and that, you will not find a tree as big as this ombu, standing solitary, where there is no house; therefore it is known to all as the ombu, as if but one existed; and the name of all this estate, which is now ownerless and ruined is El Ombu. From on of the higher branches, if you can climb, you will see the lake of Chascomus, two thirds of a league away, from shore to shore, and the village on its banks. Even smaller things will you see on a clear day; perhaps a red line moving across the water-a flock of flamingos flying in their usual way.