190 PATAGONIAN EXPEDITIONS: NARRATIVE. 



ninth of June and midwinter had arrived, did I recover sufficiently to walk 

 with a crutch, the product of Mr. Colburn's mechanical skill. On that day, 

 with the ground covered to the depth of a foot or more with snow, we left 

 the camp where all unwillingly we had remained so long and started on 

 our journey to Gallegos, distant some five hundred miles. A view of 

 our camp, taken on the morning of our departure, is shown in the photo- 

 graph reproduced in Fig. 29. I think my readers will agree with me 

 after an inspection of this photograph, that the conditions were not par- 

 ticularly encouraging, when we were finally able to resume our journey. 

 Day after day we dragged slowly along through fields of snow and ice, 

 shovelling away the snow each night over an area sufficient to accommo- 

 date our beds. We were frequently hard pressed to find grass sufficient 

 for our horses, and the poor animals often suffered through a lack of suffi- 

 cient food. Before reaching the Rio Chico we were much disturbed lest, 

 on account of the ice in the river, we should be unable to cross it. Our 

 fears were quite unwarranted, however, for on our arrival we found it so 

 solidly frozen over, that we had only to drive across on the ice. 



Our progress through the snow and ice was slow, Fig. 31 shows the 

 nature of the country after two weeks' travel, and it was the twenty- 

 sixth of July when we arrived at the settlements near the mouth of the 

 Rio Chico and received our first news of the Spanish-American war. The 

 first report, given us by a Frenchman, was to the eff'ect that Russia, 

 Spain, France and Germany were at war with the United States and 

 England. This is cited as an example of the truth of the familiar adage 

 that a story never loses anything during its travels. 



When we arrived at the Santa Cruz River, we decided to leave our 

 wagon and outfit and continue on horseback to Gallegos. After cross- 

 ing the river and reaching the Port of Santa Cruz, since a steamer was 

 expected there within a few days bound for Sandy Point and Mr. 

 Colburn had decided that he had had quite enough of Patagonia and 

 would return home at the first opportunity, it seemed best that he 

 should await the arrival of the expected steamer at Santa Cruz, while I 

 proceeded on horseback to Gallegos. Bidding each other good-bye, I 

 started on the afternoon of the second day after our arrival at Santa Cruz 

 for Gallegos, distant by land some one hundred and twenty-five miles. 

 It was raining when I started, as it had been continually for the past 

 three or four days. Hardly had I gained the summit of the pampa, 



