18 HUNTING CAMPS. 



Some of the finest runs I enjoyed came in the neigh- 

 bourhood of Lake Buenos Aires, which lies in the very 

 heart of Patagonia, when Tom and Chichi were the 

 only dogs on whom I could rely. The very first 

 guanaco that Tom had experience of was a very old 

 buck at which I obtained a shot but struck too far 

 back. I at once slipped Tom, who ran into the guanaco 

 within three hundred yards, when the animal fell dying. 

 Tom was much elated, and obviously placed the death 

 of the guanaco to his own sole credit, with the result 

 that as we were riding back to camp he went off in 

 chase of a second buck. This time, notwithstanding 

 an excellent start, he had a much longer run, but at 

 length came upon terms with his quarry, when the 

 guanaco knocked him backwards with a tremendous 

 and well-aimed kick on the head. Tom was young, 

 and, though he was always ready thereafter to chase 

 guanaco, it was some months before he got over his 

 experience, but invariably ran cunning, leaving first 

 hold to the other dogs. In spite of this he was of 

 immense use, for in a few bounds he would leave the 

 lurchers and cross-breeds far behind and would quickly 

 turn the quarry. 



One afternoon, having made an early camp, I caught 

 a fresh horse, the zaino or brown, a considerably smaller 

 animal than the cruzado and equally useful for shooting, 

 having in addition a turn for speed that was quite 

 remarkable. He was, however, only just up to my 

 weight, and consequently was not ridden except for 

 half-days, and had about the easiest time of any in 

 the troop. He had, of course, his peculiarities, one of 

 which was that in no circumstances could he be 

 persuaded to carry a pack ; he would buck, throw 



