220 THROUGH THE HEART OF PATAGONIA 



three small dampers. We were uncommonly glad to resume our 

 rugs that night. 



On the 24th we gathered more wood and put to sea. We 

 meant to reach the southern shore of the lake on the Burmeister 

 Peninsula, and there put in to a good anchorage not far from 

 Cattle's headquarters. But to do this it was necessary to pass 

 across Hell-gate, the opening to the north arm or North Fjord 

 of the lake, always a difficult stretch of water owing to the fact 

 that squalls perpetually blew down upon it from the funnel formed 

 by the winding gorges of the upper lake. We soon saw the two 

 dark bluffs beyond which the water wound away behind the out- 

 lying buttresses of the mountains, whose snow-caps glimmered 

 against the wintry sky. We did not escape scot-free, for a squall 

 duly caught us, and the tossing sent everything in the launch adrift. 

 We ran by five icebergs and once the pump refused to act, and 

 things looked awkward, but in the end, to make a long story short, 

 we steamed into our shelter, which we called Cow Monte Harbour, 

 and tied up the launch with no small thankfulness, for she was 

 leaking badly through the cracked plate I have before referred to. 



As the grass was dry we could not, with safety, make a fire suffi- 

 ciently large to signal Burbury to bring up the horses, as had been 

 arranged, so we sent on Bernardo with a message. He started off 

 in his big boots and we had no idea of the mischief he was to drop 

 into before we saw him again. He was accustomed to the pampas 

 round about the town of Santa Cruz, where you can light a fire 

 with impunity, but amongst the'high grass growing in the valleys 

 of the foothills of the Cordillera a fire is certain to spread over an 

 immense area. Finding the way long, perhaps, Bernardo sent up 

 a brace of smokes as signals. We saw them, and knew at once 

 what was likely to happen. 



When the horses arrived we bundled on to them and rode away 

 to try and stop the conflagration. There were two fires raging, 

 and our only chance lay in being able to arrest their spreading 

 be)ond the shores of a dry lagoon, which mercifully extended 

 between them and the summer-dried, well-grassed marsh lying 

 under Mount Buenos Aires and Mount Frias, where Cattle's 

 pioneer-farm was situated. It would have been a distressing 



