Among other sights are immense droves of cattle with their drivers,
passing through the streets of the city. Some of the men have a way
of leading the cattle by a peculiar call, a wild, pensive hoot, quite
musical, prolong'd, indescribable, sounding something between the cooing
of a pigeon and the hoot of an owl. I like to stand and look at the
sight of one of these immense droves--a little way off--(as the dust
is great.) There are always men on horseback, cracking their whips
and shouting--the cattle low--some obstinate ox or steer attempts to
escape--then a lively scene--the mounted men, always excellent riders
and on good horses, dash after the recusant, and wheel and turn--a
dozen mounted drovers, their great slouch'd, broad-brim'd hats, very
picturesque--another dozen on foot--everybody cover'd with dust--long
goads in their hands--an immense drove of perhaps 1000 cattle--the
shouting, hooting, movement, &c.