176 THROUGH THE HEART OF PATAGONIA 



no longer depended on my shot. I was a mere sportsman once 

 more. The doe I shot had fat on her, the first we had seen 

 during our wanderings, "just as we've got the chance of fat mutton, 



THE HOME OF THE INDIAN WHO GAVE US MUTTON 



too," as some one remarked. Rain fell at night, and the wind blew, 

 but with the razor-edge of cold off We camped in some flowering 

 grasses with the bare steppes of the pampa on one side and 

 the dark hills on the other ; behind these, among some bright 

 streaks in the stormy billowy sky, the Sierra Ventana thrust up 

 its crest. 



Next day we came upon a hut of Indians, who gave me some 

 mutton, for which they would accept no payment. Perhaps they 

 did not like to take money from a man in so old a coat ! I, how- 

 ever, gave them some tobacco. 



Later we came upon a bush-shelter of some tender of sheep 

 and cattle. It was a forlorn little place — ^just a hut of poles and 

 bushes and skins by the river bank. It was doorless, and the 

 dweller must have been a very small man, judging by his bed, 

 which was a hole in the earth, pillowed with a broken wooden 

 cargo-saddle. On one of the props was fastened a card with the 

 word " Salido " (Gone out). A bag of canvas, old and stained. 



