Life in Patagonia. 109 



again, sitting cross-legged on the floor, solemn as 

 a cacique, brown as old leather, and calling himself 

 a white man ! Yet here he says he will remain, and 

 here amongst Christians he will die. Fool, why 



^_ did he not escape 



twenty years ago, 

 or, having re- 

 mained so 

 long in the 

 desert, why 

 has he now 

 come 

 back 

 where 

 he is 

 notwan- 

 ted ! " 

 Yen- 



AJf* 



t u r a 

 was 



very unsym- 

 pathetic, and 

 appeared to have 

 no kindly feelings 



Damian's Wife. 



in-arms, but I was touched 

 with the story I had 

 heard. There was something pathetic in the life of 

 that poor returned wanderer, an alien now to his 

 own fellow-townsmen, homeless amidst the pleasant 

 vineyards, poplar groves, and] old stone houses 



