184 PATAGONIAN EXPEDITIONS: NARRATIVE. 



mine the age of certain sedimentary rocks, which, like massive wedges, 

 appeared filling deep trenches, that at some previous time had been 

 carved in the surface of the underlying harder rocks, which now formed 

 the greater part of the canon walls. It was my custom, as a rule, to take 

 with me, while thus engaged, my horses and complete equipage, in order 

 to avoid, as much as possible, the necessity of having to double back over 

 the same territory. As midday drew near, I would select some spot 

 where grass and water were plentiful and turn my horses out to graze, 

 while, beneath the shelter of a bush or ledge of rocks, I would indulge 

 myself in a noonday nap, or, disinclined to sleep, would take the physical 

 rest which the nature of my work demanded, while mentally engaged in 

 contemplating the peculiar beauty, grandeur and solitude of my surround- 

 ings. On one particularly fine day, while engaged in this most pleasing 

 and fascinating occupation, I was much interested in the peculiar action of 

 a number of condors. Since the day was warmed by a brilliant sun, not 

 too often seen in Patagonia, I had thrown myself down upon my slicker in 

 the comforting shade of a large calafate bush. As I lay at ease, carefully 

 scanning the cafton walls and the blue sky above me, my attention was 

 almost immediately attracted by some half a dozen of those noble birds 

 perched on the very summit of as many basaltic, needle-like pinnacles 

 that rose perpendicularly from the opposite side of the cafion to a height 

 of little less than two thousand feet. With extended wings they were 

 engaging in a series of very slow but rhythmical gyrations, turning slowly 

 round and round without ever closing their wings or leaving their perch. 

 So high above me were they that I could but just distinguish the white of 

 their wings. For fully an hour I watched their peculiar motions. Evi- 

 dently it was as calm at their altitude as in the cafion, and the day being 

 an unusually warm one for Patagonia I attributed their actions to the 

 heat, which to them had apparently become somewhat oppressive. 



In the early part of the narrative of the first expedition I have remarked 

 upon the peculiar manner adopted by the condor in attacking the carcass 

 of an animal which has but lately died. During my travels in this region 

 I had an opportunity of verifying my former observations. While travel- 

 ling along one of the sides of the higher plateaus of this region I came 

 upon a full grown guanaco that had become mired in a spring and was 

 unable to extricate itself. In its struggles it had fallen on one side, 

 with its head resting on the bank. In this position it lay, when by 



