26 IDLE DAYS IN PATAGONIA 



flew past, and I knew that the morning was beau- 

 tiful in the east. Little by little the light began to 

 appear through the crevices, faint at first, like 

 faintly-traced pallid lines on a black ground, then 

 brighter and broader until I, too, had a dim twi- 

 light in the cabin. 



Not until the sun was an hour up did my friend 

 return to me to find me hopeful still, and with all 

 my faculties about me, but unable to move without 

 assistance. Putting his arms around me he helped 

 me up, and just as I had got erect on my sound 

 leg, leaning heavily on him, out from beneath the 

 poncho lying at my feet glided a large serpent of 

 a venomous kind, the Craspedocephalus alterna- 

 tus, called in the vernacular the serpent with a 

 cross. Had my friend's arms not been occupied 

 with sustaining me he, no doubt, would have at- 

 tacked it with the first weapon that offered, and 

 in all probability killed it, with the result that I 

 should have suffered from a kind of vicarious 

 remorse ever after. Fortunately it was not long 

 in drawing its coils out of sight and danger into a 

 hole in the wall. My hospitality had been uncon- 

 scious, nor, until that moment, had I known that 

 something had touched me, and that virtue had 

 gone out from me; but I rejoice to think that 

 the secret deadly creature, after lying all night 

 with me, warming its chilly blood with my warmth, 

 went back unbruised to its den. 



Speaking of this serpent with a strange name, 

 I recall the fact that Darwin made its acquaint- 



