1 88 PATAGONIAN EXPEDITIONS: NARRATIVE. 



the interior, still unaccomplished, it was with rather depressed spirits that, 

 on the twenty-ninth of April, I made my way through the snow, across 

 canons and over pampas, toward camp and my companion. Of provi- 

 sions we had an ample supply to enable us to pass the winter, if we chose 

 to do so. But from the elevation of most of the country it seemed clear 

 that we should be able to accomplish little in winter. To the north of us 

 lay a canon, which with a wagon could be crossed only with the greatest 

 difficulty. To the east was a region deeply dissected with a bewildering 

 labyrinth of abysmal canons. Under the conditions it seemed best to 

 return at once to the coast by way of the Rio Chico, where I could profit- 

 ably pass the winter by supplementing our collections from the Patagonian 

 and Santa Cruzian beds, while Mr. Colburn could find employment col- 

 lecting the water fowl of the region, to which we had hitherto devoted 

 little attention. This was the plan I had mapped out as I rode along on 

 my homeward journey, and which, after my arrival in camp, I unfolded to 

 Mr. Colburn, and in the wisdom of which he concurred. The following 

 day, April thirtieth, was passed in preparing for our retreat to the coast. 

 Although unsuccessful in our main purpose, it must not be inferred that 

 we had accomplished nothing. Mr. Colburn had secured an excellent 

 series of the skins and skeletons of recent birds and mammals, while I, 

 in addition to the knowledge gained of the geology and geography of the 

 region, had made important collections of recent plants and invertebrates 

 and had added considerably to our collections of vertebrate and inverte- 

 brate fossils, so that when ready to start on our return journey, our wagon 

 was loaded almost to its full capacity. 



On the evening of April thirtieth we retired with everything in readi- 

 ness for an early start the following morning. When I arose the next 

 morning my left knee was considerably swollen and quite painful, while 

 the right was somewhat affected as was also my left arm. I regarded it, 

 however, as only a slight attack of rheumatism, from which I had long 

 been a sufferer, and which I believed would soon pass away without any 

 serious results. At an early hour we were on our way southward. The 

 wind blew raw and cold out of the southwest and chilled me through and 

 through as I drove over the high pampa above our late camp in a direction 

 almost facing the wind. It was late in the evening when we reached the 

 stream in the valley lying east of Lake Gio. Here we camped for the 

 night, and after applying a porous plaster, the only remedy at hand, to 



