122 PATAGONIAN EXPEDITIONS: NARRATIVE. 



warm sandy soil, numerous species of small lizards might be seen running 

 swiftly about from one bush or stone to another. The variety and beauty 

 of color exhibited by these little animals was more striking than that of 

 any of the other classes of animal life found in this region. Of whatever 

 hue and however brilliant the colors might be, they seemed to harmonize 

 well with those of the surrounding objects so as to afford these com- 

 paratively helpless creatures a certain amount of protection from their 

 natural enemies, by rendering them less conspicuous. A specimen taken 

 among the basaltic debris at the foot of the cliff would be nearly black 

 with delicate spots of light gray arranged in transverse bands. Another 

 from a patch of mata verde, only a few rods distant, would be quite 

 green, while a third captured on the almost barren surface of an alkali 

 flat, or the bottom of a dried-up lake, would have the back and sides of 

 body and head ornamented with light gray and delicate yellow scales 

 arranged in broad vermicular bands on a dull brown, earth-colored ground- 

 work. 



After a few days spent in travel up the cafton we began to tire of our 

 partial imprisonment and longed for a view out over the surrounding table- 

 lands. Owing to the tortuous course of the canon we were seldom able 

 to see for more than a few miles up or down the stream, while the high 

 and precipitous nature of the cliffs shut off the view on either side. The 

 only direction in fact in which our vision could be said to be entirely 

 unobstructed was straight up, and for our journey thither we were unfortu- 

 nately as yet quite unprepared. We pressed forward with eagerness to 

 round each successive promontory, hoping to gain a more extended view 

 beyond, only to be rewarded, however, with the sight of a very similar 

 obstacle projecting into the valley in our front at a distance of only a few 

 miles. As we stopped for a couple of days to rest our tired horses and 

 trap some of the rodents that were everywhere about us in great numbers, I 

 decided to ascend to the summit of the basaltic platform on our left, in order 

 to obtain a view of the surrounding country. After a laborious climb 

 among the sharp angular blocks I succeeded in reaching the top. 

 Walking a few hundred feet across the fractured and cavernous surface of 

 the lava to the top of a slight elevation, I stopped and carefully scanned 

 the surrounding landscape. Nothing could have been more desolate. 

 Not even the great and silent wastes of polar ice so graphically described 

 by Dr. Nansen could have presented a scene of more utter desolation than 



