14 Idle Days in Patagonia. 
we had now been over twelve hours walking in the 
heat, without tasting food or water, we still 
struggled on. Only when it grew dark, and a 
sudden cold wind sprang up from the sea, making 
us feel stiff and sore, did we finally come to a halt. 
Wood was aburdant, and we made a large fire, and 
the Italian roasted the two armadilloes he had 
patiently been carrying all day. They smelt very 
tempting when done; but I feared that the fat 
luscious meat would only increase the torturing 
thirst [ suffered, and so while the others picked the 
bones I solaced myself with a pipe, sitting in 
pensive silence by the fire. Supper done, we 
stretched ourselves out by the fire, with nothing 
but my large poncho over us, and despite the hard- 
ness of our bed and the cold wind blowing over us, 
we succeeded in getting some refreshing sleep. 
At three o’clock in the morning we were up and 
on our way again, drowsy and footsore, but 
fortunately feeling less thirsty than on the previous 
day. When we had been walking half an hour 
there was a welcome indication of the approach of 
day—not in the sky, where the stars were still 
sparkling with midnight brilliancy, but far in 
advance of us a little bird broke out into a song 
marvellously sweet and clear. The song was re- 
peated at short intervals, and by-and-by it was 
taken up by other voices, until from every bush 
came such soft delicious strains that I was glad of 
all I had gone through in my long walk, since it had 
enabled me to hear this exquisite melody of the 
