HOMEWARD 291 



good sea-boat, as I afterwards proved. She rejoiced in a brilliant 

 green deck-house two storeys high, and the funnel was almost on 

 top of the propeller ! 



When it grew dark it was strange to walk through the lighted 

 streets and to see the faces pass and repass beneath the lamps. 

 There was a delightful sense of newness about it all. But perhaps 

 the most strange sensation was produced by a visit to the hair- 

 dresser's shop, where one could watch in the glass the swift trans- 

 formation. Afterwards it was quite good to smoke a second 

 execrable cigar, and to listen to the hotel-keeper in another room 

 telling some of his friends how he had mistaken me for a camp- 

 loafer owing to my patched clothes and the ragged remnants of 

 my boots, and had, in consequence, led me to an outhouse, pro- 

 posing to allow me to sleep there ! 



Best of all, perhaps, was the civilised dinner, despite the atten- 

 tions of an intoxicated itinerant dentist, who kept on reiterating 

 the same question, " Have you ever been to Nahuelhuapi ? " the 

 huapi ending in a wail — " w-a-a-a-pi." Bernardo had not turned 

 up from the farm where we had left the horses, and a gentleman 

 connected with the Government who was present, understanding 

 that I wished to see him before sailing, offered to send a file of 

 soldiers to look for him. Presently Bernardo arrived, and then 

 we went away and lit our pipes for a last talk over it all. 



Next morning on the wet shingle I said good-bye to him, 

 and there he stood for a while as the boat shoved off and we 

 rowed away. A wild figure was Master Bernardo, for he had not 

 yet had time to clothe himself in the garments of civilisation. 

 With his ragged blue jersey and his big boots of potro hide, sur- 

 mounted by his pleasant bearded face, he watched us through the 

 wind and the rain, and then he turned and walked away, passing 

 out of sight among the sheds. He was going to Santa Cruz by 

 the horse-track. Good luck to him, and may we meet again ! 



I went aboard, little guessing the pleasure that awaited me, for 

 at the gangway-head I met Mr. Waag and Mr. Von Plaaten 

 Hallermund, of the Boundary Commission, who were on their way 

 down from Santa Cruz to Punta Arenas. Mr. Waag and I had just 

 missed each other by a couple of hours on the pampa up country 



