6o THROUGH THE HEART OF PATAGONIA 



I crawled up the hill, sinking to my knees at every step into 

 the dry mud. When half-way up I saw the ears of the guanaco 

 appear against the sky-line. I lay down, and he remained still and 

 utterly unconscious of my presence for some minutes. He was 

 watching my companions, who, with the horses, were moving off 

 into dimness down the valley. Presently he ran forward one or 

 two steps and gave out his high-pitched neighing laugh in a sort of 

 strange defiance at our retreating troop. He was a very old buck 

 with dark markings on his face. He was about fifty yards away, 

 and when I fired he reared and fell backwards. I threw out the 

 cartridge, and at the same instant seven guanacos, startled by the 

 report, dashed across the valley and galloped along parallel to 

 me on the other side of the caiiadon at about one hundred yards 

 distance. I fired at the second one because it looked fat, and 

 brought it to the ground. The guanacos now turned in great 

 affright and raced past me again, when I dropped two more. 

 This brought them to a standstill, as they had not yet made 

 out where the shots were coming from, and no doubt I might 

 have been able to shoot the entire herd, but we had now 

 enough skins. When I rose the remaining four sprang down 

 into the valley and disappeared up the opposite barranca. 



I now went to the top of the hill, where I had fired at the old 

 buck, and found that the bullet had broken his neck. He was, as 

 I had surmised, a very old animal, and bore upon him traces of an 

 encounter with a puma. The skin of his neck was immensely 

 thick and his teeth were worn down. One of the other guanacos, 

 which had fallen upon the far side of the valley, proved to be 

 a year- old doe, so it was unnecessary to take any of the meat 

 of the buck. I now signalled, and Burbury soon joined me to help 

 in cutting up. 



When we overtook the horses we found that the hounds, Tom 

 and Bian had killed a cavy {Dolichotis patagonicd), so that we had 

 a good stock of meat. The cavy is excellent eating, resembling 

 English hare. I was told that Tom had not covered himself with 

 glory, for, although he proved himself very fast, and turned the 

 hare, it was Bian that killed it. Bian was a rough, yellow lurcher, 

 who stood the rough ground and hard experiences of our journey 



