THE CHACO. 
169 
for a maladroit fool who ought never to 
leave towns. 
Well, the day is over now till the evening; 
you had better get back to camp and get some¬ 
thing to eat. So back you trudge in the blinding 
heat, and round you all these long miles are 
mosquitoes and horseflies and numberless other 
virulent insects in swarms, and every exposed 
part of you is bitten and bitten and bitten 
again, until the one thing you long for is to 
reach the camp fire, pile it with green boughs, 
and sit in the heavy spicy smoke which no 
mosquito can penetrate. All things end at 
last: and at last you do get back and do as you 
meant to do. And then when you have eaten 
and drunk and smoked, a great peace comes 
over you. The troubles of the morning recede : 
and whereas a couple of hours before you could 
have sworn that nothing would get you away 
from camp again that day, you already begin 
to debate where you will go in the evening 
Shall it be along the river, with its miles of 
reeds, where you saw the fresh tapir tracks? 
Or shall you go to that likely looking country 
to the east, and try to catch a deer at his even¬ 
ing feed ? Or shall you merely take a shot gun, 
and Atto, the half-bred pointer who does not 
point, and shoot some duck, teal or partridges 
for the pot ? Something at any rate you mean 
to do: you will not stay in camp : and you lie 
on your hammock, lazily watching the sun 
