THE VOYAGE OP THE BEAGLE 91 



not feel quite so confident of this, and wanted to increase 

 our pace. He said, " No, not until they do." When any 

 little inequality concealed us, we galloped ; but when in sight, 

 continued walking. At last we reached a valley, and turning 

 to the left, galloped quickly to the foot of a hill; he gave me 

 his horse to hold, made the dogs lie down, and then crawled 

 on his hands and knees to reconnoitre. He remained in this 

 position for some time, and at last, bursting out in laughter, 

 exclaimed, "Mugeres!" (women!). He knew them to be 

 the wife and sister-in-law of the major's son, hunting for 

 ostrich's eggs. I have described this man's conduct, because 

 he acted under the full impression that they were Indians. 

 As soon, however, as the absurd mistake was found out, he 

 gave me a hundred reasons why they could not have been 

 Indians; but all these were forgotten at the time. We then 

 rode on in peace and quietness to a low point called Punta 

 Alta, whence we could see nearly the whole of the great har- 

 bour of Bahia Blanca. 



The wide expanse of water is choked up by numerous 

 great mud-banks, which the inhabitants call Cangrejales, or 

 crabberies, from the number of small crabs. The mud is so 

 soft that it is impossible to walk over them, even for the 

 shortest distance. Many of the banks have their surfaces 

 covered with long rushes, the tops of which alone are visible 

 at high water. On one occasion, when in a boat, we were 

 so entangled by these shallows that we could hardly find 

 our way. Nothing was visible but the flat beds of mud ; the 

 day was not very clear, and there was much refraction, or 

 as the sailors expressed it, " things loomed high." The only 

 object within our view which was not level was the horizon; 

 rushes looked like bushes unsupported in the air, and water 

 like mud-banks, and mud-banks like water. 



We passed the night in Punta Alta, and I employed my- 

 self in searching for fossil bones ; this point being a perfect 

 catacomb for monsters of extinct races. The evening was 

 perfectly calm and clear; the extreme monotony of the view 

 gave it an interest even in the midst of mud-banks and gulls, 

 sand-hillocks and solitary vultures. In riding back in the 

 morning we came across a very fresh track of a Puma, but 

 did not succeed in finding it We saw also a couple of 



