176 



THROUGH THE HEART OF PATAGONIA 



no longer depended on my shot, I was a mere sportsman once 

 more. The doe I shot had fat on her, the first we had seen 

 diirine' our wandering's, " iust as we've sfot the chance of fat mutton, 



TllK HOMK OF THK INDIAN WHO GAVE US MUTTC^N 



too," as someone remarked. Rain fell at night, and the wind blew, 

 but with the razor-edge of cold off We camped in some flowering- 

 grasses with the bare steppes of the pampa on one side and 

 the dark hills on the other ; behind these, among some bright 

 streaks in the stormy billowy sky, the Sierra Ventana thrust up 

 its crest. 



Next day we came upon a hut of Indians, who gave me some 

 mutton, for which they would accept no payment. Perhaps they 

 did not like to take money from a man in so old a coat! I, how- 

 ever, o-H-ve them some tobacco. 



Later we came upon a bush-shelter of some tender of sheep 

 and cattle. It was a forlorn little place — just a hut of poles and 

 bushes and skins by the river bank. It was doorless, and the 

 dweller must have been a very small man, judging by his bed, 

 which was a hole in the earth, pillowed with a broken wooden 

 cargo-saddle. On one of the props was fastened a card v^ith the 

 word '' Salido'' (Gone out). A bag of ^anvas, old and stained. 



