Letters of Mr. J. Graham Kerr. 351 



and here I have been since. I shall now give you an account 

 of my impressions and doings since I arrived, making it as 

 condensed as possible. Firstly, as regards doings. The 

 ' Maskelyne ' anchored off Buenos Aires on the morning of 

 Saturday, June 29th, having previously gone aground once 

 or twice on the soft mud. The anchorage for large ocean 

 steamers lies almost in the centre of the river — fifteen miles 

 from Buenos Aires shore ; and even here there is only about 

 25 feet of water in the channel, while on all sides are shoals 

 and mudbanks innumerable. However, we dropped anchor 

 all right between nine and ten o'clock. It was a beautiful 

 morning, the atmosphere unusually clear. To the S.W. 

 might be seen the domes of Buenos Aires and the forests of 

 masts of its shipping; a low line along the northern horizon 

 indicated the coast of Uruguay. About eleven o'clock, qua- 

 rantine formalities having been got through, we stepped into 

 the tender, and after a tedious journey of one and three- 

 quarter hours, we arrived within a quarter of a mile of the 

 passenger-mole. We now got into a large open boat, and 

 from that again into a small one, and by dint of much shov- 

 ing and gesticulating, this latter was brought within jumpable 

 distance of the mole, and so at last we arrived on terra firma. 

 The water of the river is very muddy, quite fresh, of course ; 

 and floating about its surface were millions of Camelates 

 {Pontederia azurea) , not yet in flower, however. My luggage 

 came on shore about 6 p.m., and I had to leave it in the 

 custom-house until next morning. I had great difficulty 

 in finding room at any of the hotels, the town being very 

 full just then. At last, however, I managed, by chumming 

 along with a fellow-passenger, to find accommodation at the 

 Hotel de Londres. On Sunday morning I repaired to the 

 mole to get my luggage through, and experienced less trouble 

 than I expected. The arsenical soap was what excited most 

 misgiving in the mind of the customs' officer. He felt it 

 and smelt it, and finally asked what it was worth. I put a 

 very modest value indeed upon it, and so he let it pass. He 

 absolutely refused, however, to allow my camera and box of 

 cartridges through. They must go to the custom-house, 



