The Plains of Patagonia. 227 
without change, into infinitude; but without the 
sparkle of water, the changes of hue which shadows 
and sunlight and nearness and distance give, and 
motion of waves and white flash of foam. It has a 
look of antiquity, of desolation, of eternal peace, of 
a desert that has been a desert from of old and will 
continue a desert for ever; and we know that its 
only human inhabitants are a few wandering savages, 
who live by hunting as their progenitors have done 
for thousands of years. Again, in fertile savannahs 
and pampas there may appear no signs of human 
occupancy, but the traveller knows that eventually 
the advancing tide of humanity will come with its 
flocks and herds, and the ancient silence and desola- 
tion will be no more; and this thought is like 
human companionship, and mitigates the effect of 
nature’s wildness on the spirit. In Patagonia no 
such thought or dream of the approaching changes 
to be wrought by human agency can affect the mind. 
There is no water there, the arid soil is sand and 
gravel—pebbles rounded by the action of ancient 
seas, before Europe was; and nothing grows except 
the barren things that nature loves—thorns, and a 
few woody herbs, and scattered tufts of wiry bitter 
grass. 
Doubtless we are not all affected in solitude by 
wild nature in the same degree ; even in the Pata- 
gonian wastes many would probably experience no 
such mental change as I have described. Others 
have their instincts nearer to the surface, and are 
moved deeply by nature in any solitary place ; and I 
q 2 
