222 THROUGH THE HEART OF PATAGONIA 



Presently it became a race for a spot some 200 yards ahead, 

 where a line of green damp grass might stop the fire and force it 

 in another direction. To cut it off at this point would make the 

 remainder of our task more easy. But just on the nearer side of 

 the grass line a number of high bushes were growing, and their 

 strong roots and lower branches gave the flames a definite hold. 

 Now and again, too, one had to run back and stamp out some sudden 

 recrudescence of the flame. There is no need to describe the last 

 half-hour ; only, when the yellow circle of fire had given place to 

 a smouldering black ring, we were ready to lie down on our 

 blackened sheepskins and feel neither glad nor sorry but only 

 wearily tired. 



To beat out a fire is about the hardest sort of effort a man can 

 make, for no spell of rest can be obtained without losing the 

 results of previous labour. Afterwards, when we made a round of 

 the fires to make sure of safety, we found them sinking sullenly 

 into black deadness. 



We were especially lucky in the direction taken by the fire, as, 

 had it burnt along any other line, it is almost certain that our camp 

 and all that we possessed would have been destroyed. Such a 

 disaster actually occurred to Cattle some years ago in the north of 

 the country. He was then journeying with two companions, when 

 a half-breed boy he had with him was foolish enough to allow a 

 camp-fire to spread among the surrounding grass. The pioneers 

 were able to save nothing but a pair of boleadores and a Winchester 

 rifle with the seven cartridges that happened to be in it. The 

 party fortunately possessed several hounds, by whose efforts the 

 stock of meat was kept up, otherwise it is more than likely that 

 their case would have been a serious one. 



The interval between the time of our starting for Lake Viedma 

 and our return was in all but eleven days. During those eleven 

 days much happened that brought back most vividly to me old 

 boyish dreams of travel and romance. I had realised some of 

 them, but risk and adventure, which enchant us in the glamour of 

 far-off contemplation, are apt on nearer view to lose in romance 

 what they gain in reality. 



On the same day of the fire, news, brought by some wandering 



