FIRST HUEMUL CAMP 



162 THROUGH THE HEART OF PATAGONIA 



camp by a little pool. Here we had a mat'e by the fire and gave 

 our horses grass. Then came our climb up the ragged cliffs by 

 which we had descended. They were very high, nsmg fold on 

 fold, set as always with loose stones and shifting sand, a needle 



or two of black rock stick- 

 - - --™,^, - . ^ T? ing out gauntly from their 



steep faces. 



The next day Jones 



and I went hunting. We 



desired to secure a few 



heads and skins of the 



huemul and we determined 



to devote a day to that 



purpose. I will describe 



that excursion at full 



length, as it was one typical 



of Patagonian sport. 



Of course we rode. You ride everywhere in Patagonia. I 



rode Luna, and Jones one of the Zainos — Fritz the younger, a very 



rough horse. 



When we started a light rain was falling and the summits of the 

 Cordillera were purple with threatening cloud. The rain gave the 

 mountain wind the softness which the pampero lacks. We quickly 

 crossed the lower hills and saw some guanacos in the valleys. 

 We did not shoot any but rode on upwards until we came to the 

 hi'^^h ground, where bushes of matd negra and black fragments of 

 basalt made a desolate picture with the low clouds rolling over the 

 wet hills. Presently a cloud enveloped us and we took shelter 

 beneath a rock. It looked as if we were in for a wet day, but to 

 our delight, after an hour of waiting the wind blew away the clouds 

 and showed the pale blue sky beyond, the weather turned colder 

 and set in fine. We jumped on our horses and jogged on until 

 the high ground was reached. Here we dismounted and spied the 

 country with the telescope. We had come to the conclusion that 

 nothing was in sight when, moving a little higher, I saw an ostrich 

 in a marsh not more than two hundred yards away. The bird had 

 not perceived us, and fortunately the ground was favourable for 



