Missionary Visitor, The (1912) . will not be surprised to learn that this great stone, like grandfathers clock— Was too big for the shelf,So it stood ninety yearson the floor. I have no doubt it stoodon its rocky floor for muchmore than ninety years,but that is just the age ofthe town of Tandil, andthe rocking-stone has beenknown to white men eversince the first soldiers fro 11Buenos Aires found itthere. I have called it a clockbecause when the strongwinds blew over the hill-top where it stood thishuge rocking-stone movedjust sixty times a were other ways ofmaking it move, and by
Missionary Visitor, The (1912) . will not be surprised to learn that this great stone, like grandfathers clock— Was too big for the shelf,So it stood ninety yearson the floor. I have no doubt it stoodon its rocky floor for muchmore than ninety years,but that is just the age ofthe town of Tandil, andthe rocking-stone has beenknown to white men eversince the first soldiers fro 11Buenos Aires found itthere. I have called it a clockbecause when the strongwinds blew over the hill-top where it stood thishuge rocking-stone movedjust sixty times a were other ways ofmaking it move, and by putting their shoulders under the projecting end ofthe stone and giving a big heave menhave made it crack walnuts or bottlesplaced close to the point where it touchthe rock beneath. Seventy years ago there was a greattyrant in Argentina who was very crueland fond of killing people. His namewas Rosas. He went to Tandil androde over to the rocking-stone. In-stead of pleasing him it made him an-gry to see such a curious sight. He. The Rockingf-Stone of Tandil, said he would pull it down. So he 272 The Missionary Visitor August1912 gathered together all the horses hecould muster—about a thousand—andharnessed them all up with long ropesto this huge stone. But in vain. Allthe kings horses and all the kings mencould not pull this humpty-dumpty offits perch. One day a great storm burst overTandil. The thunder rolled andcrashed, the lightning split the blackclouds and danced on the a dazzling flash struck therocking-stone, and a large piece of itfell off and went slithering down thehill. But the rocking-stone stood stillin the same place, with its point stuckin the rock beneath, like the stem of atoadstool. One New Years Day about fortyyears ago a band of fierce-lookinggauchos gathered under the shadow ofthis rock and listened to the words of asavage man whom they called TataDios. I think they must have been de-scended from the wild Indians whoused to wander all
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