THE VOYAGE OF THE BEAGLE 



347 



not a botanist) thorny stunted bushes, withered grass, and 

 dwarf plants. Even the black slowly crawling beetles are 

 closely similar, and some, I believe, on rigorous examination, 

 absolutely identical It had always been to me a subject of 

 regret, that we were unavoidably compelled to give up the 

 ascent of the S. Cruz river before reaching the mountains: 

 I always had a latent hope of meeting with some great 

 change in the features of the country; but I now feel sure, 

 that it would only have been following the plains of Pata- 

 gonia up a mountainous ascent. 



March 24th. — Early in the morning I climbed up a moun- 

 tain on one side of the valley, and enjoyed a far extended 

 view over the Pampas. This was a spectacle to which I had 

 always looked forward with interest, but I was disappointed : 

 at the first glance it much resembled a distant view of the 

 ocean, but in the northern parts many irregularities were 

 soon distinguishable. The most striking feature consisted 

 in the rivers, which, facing the rising sun, glittered like 

 silver threads, till lost in the immensity of the distance. At 

 midday we descended the valley, and reached a hovel, where 

 an officer and three soldiers were posted to examine pass- 

 ports. One of these men was a thoroughbred Pampas 

 Indian : he was kept much for the same purpose as a blood- 

 hound, to track out any person who might pass by secretly, 

 either on foot or horseback. Some years ago, a passenger 

 endeavoured to escape detection, by making a long circuit 

 over a neighbouring mountain; but this Indian, having by 

 chance crossed his track, followed it for the whole day over 

 dry and very stony hills, till at last he came on his prey 

 hidden in a gully. We here heard that the silvery clouds, 

 which we had admired from the bright region above, had 

 poured down torrents of rain. The valley from this point 

 gradually opened, and the hills became mere water-worn 

 hillocks compared to the giants behind: it then expanded 

 into a gently sloping plain of shingle, covered with low trees 

 and bushes. This talus, although appearing narrow, must be 

 nearly ten miles wide before it blends into the apparently 

 dead level Pampas. We passed the only house in this neigh- 

 bourhood, the Estancia of Chaquaio ; and at sunset we pulled 

 up in the first snug corner, and there bivouacked. 



