124 THROUGH THE HEART OF PATAGONIA 



one day's rest since starting two months before, as upon me prin- 

 cipally fell the duty of providing for the pot, so that upon coming 

 in of an evening on the close of a long march it was usually 

 necessary to saddle a fresh horse and ride a further distance from 

 five to fifteen miles in search of game. 



So we killed the colt to provide for our wants while men and 

 horses enjoyed well-earned repose. I had formed a base-camp 

 about five miles from the shores of the lake, intending to make 

 short expeditions, lightly equipped, round and about the vicinity. 

 As for the camp, three large thorn-bushes were Nature's con- 

 tribution towards it, and what a relief even the shelter of a thorn- 

 bush can be in the Kingdom of the Winds, you could only learn by 

 an experience such as was ours. Below the camp, which stood on 

 a ridge, the ground fell away in a three-mile slope to the usually 

 angry water ; eastwards was a pantano or swamp of yellow reeds, 

 which ran a long way below the scrub-grown ridge. The tents 

 huddled back-to-wind, as much under the lee of the bushes as 

 possible. We made an oven, but it turned out a failure, the earth 

 being too soft for our purpose. Round the fire was a hedge of 

 thorn hung with horse-blankets, red, yellow and black, which gave 

 a rather festive air to the camp. The only sounds were the 

 neigh of a horse, the hooting of night-birds, and the never-silent 

 wind. 



During the night of the loth, half a gale of wind blew up with 

 an extraordinary rancour of coldness. I lay in my tent and heard 

 the sides of it flapping like some great wounded bird. Sleep was 

 put off till far into the small hours. Through the open tent-door I 

 could look at the bushes writhing in the gale, the long black back 

 of the ridge and the glint of stars. How often one sees in half- 

 sleep the scenes of home and of the past ! I seemed again to be 

 watching the boats coming in and the tides rising with the well- 

 known ripple and pouring rush of water on a shallow beach, tides 

 that in boyish days held so infinite a romance. Where did the 

 storms that broke there come from '^. whither went the dark hulls 

 after they sank below the blue edge of sea ? Or where did the 

 fishermen sail their boats to— lonely rocks from which they brought 

 back parrot-beaked, jelly-armed pieuvres ? And yet, having drifted 



