22 Idle Days in Patagonia. 



give two or three days to all these wood and metal 

 friends of his, to give a fresh edge to his chisels, 

 and play the dentist to his saws ; to spread them 

 all out and count and stroke them lovingly, as a 

 bm Jer pats his beasties, and feed and anoint 

 them with oil to make them shine and look glad. 

 This was preliminary to the packing for transporta- 

 tion, which was also a rather slow process. 



Leaving my friend at his delightful task I 

 rambled about the neighbourhood taking stock of 

 the birds. It was a dreary and desolate spot, with 

 a few old gaunt and half-dead red willows for only 

 trees. The reeds and rushes standing in the black 

 stagnant pools were yellow and dead; and dead 

 also were the tussocks of coarse tow-coloured grass, 

 while the soil beneath was white as ashes and 

 cracked everywhere with the hot suns and long 

 drought. Only the river close by was always cool 

 and green and beautiful. 



At length, one hot afternoon, we were sitting on 

 our rugs on the clay floor of the hut, talking of our 

 journey on the morrow, and of the better fare and 

 other delights we should find at the end of the day 

 at the house of an English settler we were going to 

 visit. While talking I took up his revolver to 

 examine it for the first time, and he had just begun 

 to tell me that it was a revolver with a peculiar 

 character of its own, and with idiosyncrasies, one 

 of which was that the slightest touch, or even 

 vibration of the air, would cause it to go off when 

 on the cock he was just telling me this, when oft' 



