AT LAST, PATAGONIA! 17 



necked swans, their white plumage shining like 

 foam in the sunlight; while just beneath us, 

 scarcely a stone's throw off, stood the thatched 

 farmhouse of our conductor, the smoke curling 

 up peacefully from the kitchen chimney. A grove 

 of large old cherry trees, in which the house was 

 embowered, added to the charm of the picture; 

 and as we rode down to the gate we noticed the 

 fully ripe cherries glowing like live coals amid the 

 deep green foliage. 



