i88 THROUGH THE HEART OF PATAGONIA 



strong desire to push on and find out what lay on its farther 

 side. 



On the 29th we made a long march. After some couple 

 of hours' going we saw ahead of us clear pampa instead of the 

 rocky stone-strewn surface of the region we had been passing 

 through of late. Over this pampa, though it was tussocky and 

 uneven, we were able to advance at a good rate towards a line of 

 hills that rose in the west. As we approached we saw that they 

 stood up ridge behind ridge, and over these we rode, passing 

 many good camping-grounds and seeing herds of guanaco, but no 

 wood or bush for fire. At last we got to the top of the last ridge 

 of all, and there, standing in the teeth of a strong wind, we looked 

 down upon Lake Argentino lying below us, and backed by the 

 peaks and snow summits of the Cordillera. 



Although there were many canadones and grass of the richest, 

 we could find no water, and so went on and on. 



Presently, as we were descending towards the lake, we reached 

 a lagoon, but found no feed there for the horses, so we were forced 

 to leave it behind, although the troop was tired and we had been 

 for several hours in the saddle. I perceived traces of horses at 

 some distance, and we therefore left the bank of the lagoon and 

 cut across the pampa heading for them. We wandered on 

 through bare hills, which fell in perplexing folds, curve within 

 curve, and at last we reached the River del Bote, which has but 

 one ford by which we could cross. This we found, worked the 

 troop over, and then encamped. 



Day by day we had been leaving behind us the seemingly 

 limitless pampas and were now drawing close to the full blue 

 range of minaret-shaped mountains. Each march was adding to 

 their height and making clearer the details hidden in the hedge- 

 sparrow-egg hue of their distances. First we came in sight of 

 Mount Viscachas one morning when, bearing a little too far out 

 upon the pampa, we struck a tract of very bad going. The o-round 

 was covered with thorny bushes and basalt fragments, and here 

 and there harsh tussocks of grass sprouted from the blackened 

 wilderness of stones. The night we passed beside the lagoon on 

 the high pampa left an impression on my mind as one of the 



