human
Having their breakfast, observes the gaucho,
gpt
he adds, with a glance upward to the sky.
human
And the height of that sun reminds me of its being high time for us to do something in the same line, if I hadn't been already reminded of it by a hollow I feel here. He places his spread palm over the pit of his stomach, and then continues,
gpt
So we may as well dine now; though, sad to say, we haven't a morsel to make a meal upon but that juiceless _charqui. Santissima_! what am I thinking about? I verily believe my brains have got bemuddled, like everything else. Nothing but _charqui_, indeed! Ha! we'll dine more daintily, if I know what's what. Here, _senoritos_! back your horses behind those bushes. Quick, gently.