THE PLAINS OF PATAGONIA 209 



wren-like species was not heard oftener than 

 two or three times an hour. The only sounds as 

 I rode were the muffled hoof-strokes of my horse, 

 scratching of twigs against my boot or saddle-flap, 

 and the low panting of the dog. And it seemed 

 to be a relief to escape even from these sounds 

 when I dismounted and sat down: for in a few 

 moments the dog would stretch ,his head out on 

 his paws and go to sleep, and then there would 

 be no sound, not even the rustle of a leaf. For 

 unless the wind blows strong there is no flutter- 

 ing motion and no whisper in the small stiff un- 

 deciduous leaves; and the bushes stand unmov- 

 ing as if carved out of stone. One day while lis- 

 tening to the silence, it occurred to my mind to 

 wonder what the effect would be if I were to 

 shout aloud. This seemed at the time a horrible 

 suggestion of fancy, a "lawless and uncertain 

 thought" which almost made me shudder, and I 

 was anxious to dismiss it quickly from my mind. 

 But during those solitary days it was a rare thing 

 for any thought to cross my mind; animal forms 

 did not cross my vision or bird-voices assail my 

 hearing more rarely. In that novel state of mind 

 I was in, thought had become impossible. Else- 

 where I had always been able to think most freely 

 on horseback; and on the pampas, even in the 

 most lonely places, my mind was always most ac- 

 tive when I traveled at a swinging gallop. This 

 was doubtless habit ; but now, with a horse under 

 me, I had become incapable of reflection : my mind 



