1 86 THROUGH THE HEART OF PATAGONIA 



from five to ten miles in breadth : it is bounded by step-formed 

 terraces, which rise in most parts one above the other to the 

 height of 500 feet, and have on the opposite sides a remarkable 

 correspondence." 



The river winds considerably as it flows through the canadon, 

 the sides of which are very bare and grassless, excepting where 

 springs break through and flow down the cliff-side, their course 

 being marked by a line of vivid green. The pampa above, along 

 which we travelled, was made up of bare yellow levels, broken 

 here and there by strips and patches of a very dark green bush, so 

 dark as to seem almost black. We found a good deal of difficulty 

 in getting to a camp with water, as the pampa was very dry, so we 

 prolonged our march till 7.15 p.m., when we came upon a shallow 

 and turbid stream running down in a southerly direction from the 

 barranca. In the end we had to descend into the canadon of the 

 river. Not far from the spot which we chose for camping lay the 

 bodies of some eighty guanaco with their skins on, which had died 

 during the previous winter. 



The landscape immediately on the banks of the Santa Cruz is 

 arid and hopeless in the extreme, but one can never forget the 

 glory of Patagonia, its wonderful sunsets, which gleam out over 

 the dull-hued empty wastes in a splendour of colour. So on that 

 night as I stood in the shadow that steeped all my side of the 

 river, the other bank was lit up with a translucent glow of sunset 

 as delicately yellow as if it shone through the petals of a butter- 

 cup. 



On January 27 we started along the canadon, which continued 

 to be desolate and rather stony. We saw many guanaco, living 

 and dead. After a time we made for the pampa above, from 

 where we looked once again upon the Cordillera, gleaming very 

 dim and faint on the horizon. Finding a lagoon with some o-rass 

 about it, we off-saddled for an hour. Later we marched on rather 

 more slowly than usual, and camped in such a place as a wildfowler 

 might see in dreams of the night. A lagoon of sword-blue water, 

 but in shape like an arrowhead, rimmed in with low green rushes, 

 above these yellow tussocks of coarse grass bending in the wind, 

 behind all a bare promontory arched over by a sad evening sky. 



