CHAPTER V

THE RIVER VALLEYS

Arbitrary distribution of animals in Patagonia -- Trouble with Gauchos -- Indian guide -- Germans turned back -- _Cañadon_ of River Senguerr -- Bad weather -- Old Zaino again causes damage -- Loss of clothes, ammunition, &c., in the river -- Shooting upland geese -- River Mayo -- Hailstorm -- A day's sport in Patagonia -- Shooting a wild cow -- Was it a wild cow? -- Musters' account of wild cattle -- First meeting with Tehuelche Indians.

In consequence of the visit of the _comisario_ we were somewhat late in starting from Colohuapi, but nevertheless made a good march of about fifteen miles, and camped in the valley, after driving the two horses past a bend of the river that would prevent them from attempting to break back towards their pasture at Colohuapi. The day was very warm indeed and the night rather cold, the thermometer at midday and at night being respectively 74° F. and 37° F.

We were now upon the banks of the River Senguerr, the Senguel of Captain Musters.

The extraordinary tameness of the upland geese in the neighbourhood of Colohuapi was very remarkable; they allowed one to approach within eighty yards before bestirring themselves. After the first day's march beyond Colohuapi we never saw again any specimen of the Patagonian cavy (_Dolichotis patagonica_), although round the shores of the lakes Musters and Colhué these animals abound. It is strange that the habitat of the cavy should be so sharply defined, considering that there appears to be no apparent reason, such as alteration of the nature of the ground or vegetation, to account for the fact. The armadillo (_Dasypus minutus_), which is found in numbers on the north bank of the River Santa Cruz, is entirely absent from the south bank, nor, to my knowledge, has a single specimen ever been secured there. This instance of the distribution of the armadillo agrees with other facts of the same kind which are common to Patagonia. The rivers running from west to east across the continent mark the limit of the distribution of some of the mammals. Thus I am assured the jaguar (_Felis onca_) is not to-day found south of the River Negro. And the puma does not exist in Tierra del Fuego, the dividing water in this latter instance being the Straits of Magellan. The guanaco, however, is distributed throughout the whole of Patagonia and also in Tierra del Fuego. I met with this animal deep inside the Cordillera, and indeed once, with consecutive shots, I killed a huemul and a guanaco.

About this time it became apparent that neither Fritz nor Hollesen, the German Gauchos, were very much in love with the hard work and hardships which they conceived lay before them. It was a favourite trick of theirs to fall out of the troop on the plea of fixing a cargo, and then, as soon as we were lost to sight, to sit down and smoke their pipes; in fact, they had determined to take things easy. On the evening of our leaving Colohuapi Hollesen asked me for some cartridges for his revolver, saying that when working under the Argentine Boundary Commission he had had a quarrel with an Indian concerning the Indian's wife, and that he feared meeting him, for the man had sworn to be revenged.

During the night the dogs ate about ten kilos of mutton which we had brought with us from Colohuapi, although it was wrapped up in a tent, so the next morning we were forced to breakfast upon an old gander, that made a very tough and tasteless _puchero_. Our next march was about six leagues, and that evening an Indian rode into our camp and offered to guide us across the pampa to Lake Buenos Aires. He was a Tehuelche, and he told us that some of his tribe were encamped in the valley of the River Mayo at its junction with the River Chalia. All the following day, leaving the river and guided by the Indian, we rode across bare stony pampa devoid of game, and in the evening, after passing three lagoons, we made our camp round a spring of water. As, owing to the depredations of the dogs, we had no fresh food, I took the gun and attempted to stalk a couple of upland geese.

As I was returning unsuccessful, Burbury met me and told me that the Germans had again been giving him trouble. I was prepared for the news, as I had noticed they were inclined to shirk work of late, constantly lingering behind and in every way making themselves objectionable. On an expedition where there is naturally plenty of work for every one, it is useless to have men who growl at doing their fair proportion of it. They were also trying to influence the other Gauchos, for this trick of deserting at a critical time, when their services cannot be replaced, is a very old one with _peones_, who on such occasions can sometimes force their employers into giving them disproportionately high wages. I was, of course, resolved not to yield to their demands but to push forward, even if they left us. I consulted with Burbury, who agreed that we could manage without their help, though it would leave us awkwardly short-handed.

On arriving at the camp I asked the Germans the reason of their late behaviour, but they could give me no satisfactory answer, but burst into a tirade about an inoffensive companion, Barckhausen, which was obviously only an excuse to cover their real designs. I told them they must in future behave properly or else leave my camp next morning. After a certain amount of talk and bluster Fritz said that not only Hollesen and he but the Welsh _peones_ would in that case turn back.

During the course of the evening I spoke to Jones, who informed me that Fritz had persuaded him to desert, but on my pointing out that this would not be a very wise proceeding, he at once threw in his lot with us.

In the morning, finding I was of the same mind, the Germans again informed me of their wish to turn back. I therefore gave them food to last them upon their journey to civilisation, as well as the worst buck-jumper of the troop, and told them to leave the camp as soon as possible. Fritz, after some further talk and after remarking to Hollesen in German that they had better have stayed after all, climbed on to the horse and rode away.

The Germans at the outset had been admirable workers, apart from their cunning, which tinged most of their conduct. Yet perhaps, if they had gone on with us, we might have paid for Hollesen's misdoings with the Indians, by getting into trouble with the tribe who had saved his life and whom he had so scurvily requited. As it happened, a few days later we came upon the very tribe with whom he had had to do.

I will now take some extracts from my diary:

"_October 28._--The Germans left us this morning. I think we shall be all the better without them. Immediately on their departure I determined to march to the _cañadon_ or valley of the River Senguerr, giving up the route suggested by the Indian, as it was likely that the horses would stray upon the pampa. It was necessary to decrease the weight of some of our cargo, which we at once set about doing. The reason for this was that, having so few men, each pair of us would have to look after six _cargueros_, or pack-horses, and we were consequently obliged to lessen their number.

"While we were getting ready a thin rain and a yelling wind came down the _cañadon_ as we started to catch the horses. The salt marsh over which the Germans had gone lay behind us, and ahead were shallow lagoons around which the tussocks whistled in the wind. But I think we none of us noticed the inclemency of the weather, we were soaked to the skin as we worked, and in an hour and a half--a record as to time in cargoing up even with the aid of the men who had gone--we had loaded the last _carguero_ of the twelve, and with extra ropes hanging to the saddles, a brandy bottle protruding from each of the pockets of Barckhausen and with Jones perched high and stirrupless upon a sack of beans, we set off."

Providentially, not a single cargo shifted, although we covered something like fourteen miles. I should have mentioned that one of the reasons which weighed with me in again seeking the _cañadon_ of the River Senguerr was the fact that four of the horses had strayed in the night. It was our intention to camp as soon as we reached a suitable place in the valley and to scour the country for the lost horses. This, however, turned out not to be necessary, as we came right upon the truants grazing in the mouth of a small rift in the cliff of the _cañadon_. One of them cantered out with a neigh to meet the troop upon the hillside.

It rained so heavily in the night that we put up the tent and were glad of its warm shelter. Morning came with pearl-grey mists in the valley. We worked like slaves, and our hands became very sore with the new cargo-ropes.

The next day, had I but known it, marked the last of our misfortunes, for after that we enjoyed as good luck as we had hitherto experienced the reverse.

We spent most of the morning in slowly marching a couple of leagues, and then Scrivenor, who was leading, came back to say that our way was barred by a sheer cliff, close under which the river ran. Burbury, however, was of the opinion that it would be easier to proceed than to attempt to scale the tall _barranca_, which was our only alternative choice. We straggled across the half-dry marshy grass that fringed the river-bed, which here winds greatly.

Presently we climbed on to a steep slope on the cliffs, where directly below us the river ran with a current of about three knots. The passage along this slope was very difficult, and we were driving the horses with infinite care. The face of the cliff was scarred with the traces of a landslip. One of the horses, the Old Zaino, so called not because of any weight of years, but on account of the gravity of his demeanour, climbed up and up, in spite of all our efforts, among the shifting earth and loose stones until he was some hundred feet above the main body of the troop. He was a tall, ewe-necked animal, and always bore an exasperating expression of insulted dignity. He was carrying a cargo of flour.

When he had, in his own opinion, managed to get sufficiently ahead of his companions, he stopped dead and looked down upon us with a baleful eye as we toiled beneath him. Then suddenly, but methodically, he began to descend towards us in a succession of devastating bucks. No cargo, tied with ropes, could withstand such treatment. The _cinch_ gave way, and he and his pack arrived simultaneously in the middle of the troop.

He cannoned against a black horse carrying ammunition and oatmeal, and it began to slide down the cliff towards the river on its haunches. The remainder of the horses stampeded, some fell, some got into impossible positions.... For several minutes the big black horse hung within measurable distance of violent death upon the rocks below, but Barckhausen made a great effort to save him, and succeeded, though the cargo was kicked off in a most perilous place. Only a guanaco track led along the steep hillside, and over the edge of the slope our belongings dropped into the river a hundred feet below. Each lifted a small cloud of spray as it fell and floated serenely away on the current or sank from sight. The water was dotted with the various packages. All Burbury's clothes, some of mine, flour, oatmeal, a case of corned beef, six hundred rounds of ammunition, and the concertina--these were among our losses.

A salvage-party was at once despatched to attempt the rescue of such of our goods as were still swimming, while the rest of us collected the horses and returned with a sufficiency of ropes to enable us to get down the cliff, for upon the ragged edge left by the landslip and overhanging the river some of our things had lodged. We felt that we were for the time being out of luck. We had not long lost the waggon, and now followed the losing of important stores and the yet more important ammunition. We knotted together eight of the cargo-ropes, and while Scrivenor and I were doing this, Barckhausen retrieved one of the boxes of ammunition, and told us that there were a couple more farther down, and out of reach, he feared, which had stuck in the soft earth of the landslip. However, with the aid of the rope I managed to bring both up to safe ground.

"During this time we could see Burbury and Jones far away in the valley, where the river narrowed and the current swinging near the bank offered a hopeful chance of catching the floating articles. They succeeded in dragging ashore most of the packages, but Burbury's clothes, which were in a brown waterproof bag, sank, the bag, I fancy, having filled with water. Our total losses thus amounted to 200 12-bore cartridges, a tin of Mauser ammunition, a 25-kilo bag of oatmeal, and the clothes. On the whole we could not help thinking things might have been very much worse.

"The horses had meantime come to a standstill in a patch of high grass farther along beneath the _barranca_, and there we rounded them up and re-cargoed.

"When this was done it was found that we had another place, almost as difficult as that upon which we had come to grief, to surmount. This time, however, Burbury led a horse in front, and the others followed meekly in his track. We had wasted several hours in negotiating the first _barranca_, and it was soon time to camp. As we had no meat, I went to see if I could not kill some geese (_Chloephaga magellanica_), which I had observed upon a neck of land, that stretched out into the river. There were five geese, and I was lucky enough to kill two, both females, which are very much more tender than the males. On one side of the camp was a chain of small lagoons, evidently formed by the overflow of the river, and in one of these I saw a flock of brown pintails. These were easily stalked behind the rushes, and the discharge of two barrels of the 12-bore left five upon the water. At dark a storm of rain blew up.

"_October 30._--This cargoing work is very wearisome, and has got upon our nerves. Even in one's sleep one sees the reeling, writhing mass of kicking and struggling _cargueros_ on the white and ragged-sided _barranca_.[6] Got off at 10.30 and reached the River Mayo, a very small stream here, flowing through a wide valley lined by bare steep cliffs 200 feet or so in height. We are all becoming quite expert with the cargoes; Burbury and Barckhausen, and Jones and I work in pairs. The newness has now worn off the ropes, and hauling on them does not any longer cut our hands. Still an occasional cargo shifts, and the horse, wildly refusing to be caught, gallops away kicking at his cargo. Thus did the Alazan to-day, scattering Mauser ammunition among the bushes, and kicking the spout from our last kettle, so that we can only fill it half full.

"There is comparatively little game in this bit of country, few guanaco, and those very wild because of the Indians, whose beat we are now approaching. When there is rain, which fortunately is not often, we have to carry our change of clothing upon our saddles to dry them. To-day Jones was very much loaded up with his extra breeches and top boots, that were wet, a gun-cover, fifty rounds of ammunition dropped by the Alazan, two ducks, a telescope, and a water-bottle!

"_October 31._--Soon after we started a big cloud blew out of the south and brought with it a heavy hailstorm, which whistled before a driving wind. The horses would not face it, but huddled together in the centre of the valley. We encamped early as we needed meat. Jones and I left the camp here among the sand-dunes in the valley and went a-hunting. We rode up a _cañadon_, in the centre of which our horses foundered in some very bad ground. Getting out of this we struck a stretch of desolate pampa, across which we cut towards the big _cañadon_ of the Mayo in order to explore the route which we must follow upon the morrow. To my surprise we presently came to a clear stream, flowing through another wide _cañadon_, which joined the Mayo from a south-westerly direction. Can this be the River Genguel? The Indian guide told us that it would take us a month to get from here to Lake Buenos Aires. If it is the Genguel, however, we should arrive at the lake in ten marches--a very different matter. It would be as well to halt to-morrow for the day, so that an observation may be taken to determine this point, and also to enable us to go hunting, as we have but one duck in the camp, and, since our losses at the Senguerr _barranca_, it is more than ever necessary to save our stock of tinned provisions.

"To-day the Old Zaino, this time fortunately not carrying a cargo, again attempted to repeat his trick of the Senguerr _barranca_, but was circumvented by Burbury and Barckhausen.

"_November 1._--To-day Scrivenor shot the sun 70° 56´ W. long, and 45° 39´ S. lat. So the river we saw yesterday is the Genguel, which is excellent. Jones and I went out to shoot for the pot. As there were no guanaco in the neighbourhood, he took the Paradox and I my 12-bore, and we confined ourselves to following some flocks of upland geese which we had observed in the valley. I will describe the day's sport at length, as it was very typical of Patagonian wild-fowl shooting in a fairly good district.

"We rode our horses, of course, I taking the Cruzado and Jones 'J.V.E.' a small brown animal, so called because he bears that brand upon his flank. The first geese we came upon were a party of five standing upon an island in the Mayo. As it was impossible to stalk these birds we tried driving, and I sent Humphrey Jones, who, by the way, was a very keen sportsman, to attempt to drive them over me, where I had taken up my quarters in some bushes upstream above them on the bank. Jones meantime made a large circle and galloped up towards them. When he was within about 200 yards they rose, and honking indignantly made straight up in my direction, flying, however, a little too wide. They went down again about a quarter of a mile away, and we repeated our tactics, I remaining where I was. I could not help thinking how much time was saved by Jones being on horseback. Had he been on foot it would have taken him a long time in that bare valley to fetch a circle big enough. As it was, in five minutes the birds were again on the wing, and this time they gave me a chance and I brought down two; one, however, falling on the other side of the river, had to be abandoned."

Any one who travels through Patagonia cannot fail to be struck by the enormous quantities of upland geese (_Chloephaga magellanica_) which abound in the vicinity of the rivers and lagoons. At this time a great many of the birds are paired, but at a latter date in the valley of the Coyly we once made a camp round which the country in all directions was covered by thousands of these geese. After our shot Jones rejoined me and we proceeded to the edge of a small lagoon, where he told me he had seen some ducks. On approaching it I examined the birds through my telescope and discovered them to be brown pintails (_Dafila spinicauda_). I held the horses while Jones enjoyed the stalk, which ended in his killing two of the birds, to retrieve which it was necessary to wade into pretty deep water.

We now rode towards the valley of the Genguel, and there flushed innumerable snipe, at which we did not shoot, as we could not afford to waste ammunition on so small a bird. We next descried a flock of nineteen geese, which were peculiarly wideawake and would not allow us to approach for a long time, and presently we deserted their pursuit in favour of that of a single old gander that was standing upon the shingle beside the river. I got up quite close to this bird and had a rising shot at him as he flew across the stream. I killed him quite dead, but it seemed impossible to retrieve him, and we were rather disconsolately watching his body drift away when it struck us that Jones, who was very clever with the lasso, might manage to recover it at a point where the current brought it within reach of our side. We therefore galloped parallel to the bird along the bank, and after one or two ineffectual efforts, Jones succeeded in getting the lasso round him, and so dragged him in.

"We next had lunch which consisted of _maté_. As we sat waiting for the kettle to boil, several blue-winged teal (_Querquedula cyanoptera_) passed over us and went down in a small marsh towards the Genguel. After these Jones had another stalk, and killed two. As he was returning a couple of geese flew over at about thirty-five yards distance, and he dropped the female quite dead. It is extraordinary what an amount of shot these geese will in a general way carry off with them. For all my shooting in Patagonia I used No. 4 shot and 26 gr. of ballistite. The gun which I used most was a 12-bore moderately choked in both barrels, and this I found answered every purpose of wild-fowl shooting in Patagonia excellently.

"At reasonable ranges a number of black-necked swans (_Cygnus nigricollis_) fell to this weapon.

"After picking up the goose, we again turned our attention to the nineteen that I have mentioned earlier. They then went on a good distance downstream, and here, under cover of the rushes, we stalked up within twenty yards of them, and shot three as they rose. One of the flock swung back, and both of us fired at him, bringing him down. Thinking we had enough geese, we decided to follow the ducks, which we did in a rather desultory manner. We bagged two more, both pintails, before we returned to camp in the evening, having had a very pleasant day's sport."

Although I never attempted to make a big bag upon any day during the time I spent in Patagonia, yet, no doubt, an enormous quantity of geese could be shot in a single day. Quite close to the settlements a couple of hundred might be secured by two guns in a day, and during the migration a far greater number.

The whole of the valley of the River Chico is excellent for wild-fowling, and I expected the numbers of birds to increase as we drew nearer to Lake Buenos Aires. And certainly in the _cañadon_ of the River Deseado I was not disappointed, but of that I will write in its due place.

On November 2 we resumed our march, still following the valley of the Mayo, past the scenes of our sport of the previous day. A little after midday Jones saw a whitish object among some bushes at the edge of the river and asked my leave to go and see what it was. Presently he came riding back to say it was a wild cow and that he had observed her through the glasses. She was nearly a mile distant, and, taking my rifle, I rode off with Jones and we stalked her to about 200 yards. We again examined her carefully through the telescope, and seeing that she was five or six years old and unbranded, the fact of her belonging to a wild herd rather than being a truant escaped from the settlements two hundred miles away appeared to be certain. It was with considerable keenness that we crawled up nearer, as wild cattle afford the best sport of all Patagonian animals.

These wild cattle have some of them been wild for many generations, their remote ancestors probably being the herds which the Spaniards originally possessed in the Valdez Peninsula on the east coast during the earlier occupation of Patagonia. Since then from time to time numbers of cattle escape from the coast-farms and run wild, and, joining the older free herds, breed wild. Such herds are still to be found in considerable numbers among the foot-hills of the Cordillera. Musters in his book gives an account of meeting with a wild bull. "We had expected before reaching this point to have found cattle in considerable numbers, but the warmth of the day had probably driven them into the thickets to seek shelter..... Presently ... after riding about a mile, I espied two bulls. Two men were sent round to endeavour to drive the animals to a clearing where it would be possible to use the lassoo.... At the end of five minutes ... a yell from the other side put us anxiously on the alert, and we had the gratification to see one of the animals coming straight towards our cover. Alas! just as we were preparing to dash out, he turned on the edge of the plain, and after charging furiously at his pursuer dashed into a thicket, where he stood at bay. We immediately closed round him, and dismounting, I advanced on foot to try and bring him down with a revolver. Just as I got within half a dozen paces of him, and behind a bush was quietly taking aim at his shoulder, the Indians, eager for beef, and safe on their horses at a considerable distance off, shouted, 'Nearer, nearer!' I accordingly slipped from my cover, but had hardly moved a pace forward when my spur caught in a root, and at the same moment _el Toro_ charged. Entangled with the root, I could not jump on one side as he came on; so, when within a yard I fired a shot in his face, hoping to turn him, and wheeled my body at the same instant to prevent his horns from catching me, as the sailors say, 'broadside on.' The shot did not stop him, so I was knocked down, and, galloping over me, he passed on with my handkerchief, which fell from my head, triumphantly borne on his horns, and stopped a few yards off under another bush. Having picked myself up and found my legs and arms all right, I gave him another shot, which, as my hand was rather unsteady, only took effect in the flank. My cartridges being exhausted, I returned to my horse and found that, besides being considerably shaken, two of my ribs had been broken by the encounter.

"The Indians closed round me, and evinced great anxiety to know whether I was much hurt. One, more courageous than the rest, despite the warning of the cacique, swore he would try and lasso the brute, and, accordingly, approached the infuriated animal, who for a moment or two showed no signs of stirring; just, however, as the Indian was about to throw his lasso, it caught in a branch, and before he could extricate it the bull was upon him. We saw the horse give two or three vicious kicks as the bull gored him. At length he was lifted clean up, the fore-legs alone remaining on the ground, and overthrown, the rider alighting on his head in a bush. We closed up and attracted the bull in another direction, then went to look for the corpse of our comrade, who, however, to our surprise, issued safe from the bush, where he had lain quiet and unhurt, though the horse was killed. This little incident cast a gloom over our day's pleasure, and lost us our Christmas dinner, as Orkeke ordered a retreat to the spot where we had left our mantles, although we tried to persuade him to attack the beast again, or, at any rate, remain and eat some of the dead horse, and try our luck next day, but he was inflexible.... On our way across the plain previously described, wild cattle were seen, and one chased; but he, although balled by Orkeke, contrived to slip the _bolas_, and escaping to cover, stood to bay, where he was left master of the field."

In the present instance, however, nothing at all exciting was in store for us. My first bullet struck the cow behind the shoulder a little high, she went down upon her knees, and a second shot brought her to the ground. On our approaching she staggered to her feet, whereupon Jones gave her a shot in the brain. We then set about grallocking and skinning our quarry, and were delighted to find that she carried a good deal of fat. We were at the time running very short of this essential article of diet, for, as has been said, the guanacos supply none at this season of the year, when they are still in poor condition after the hardships of the winter.

When we had finished cutting up the meat, we packed it as well as we could upon our saddles and rode away. The amount of meat with which we had laden our saddles made them extremely uncomfortable; this was very much so in my own case, as I was riding a little black horse whose temper was not of the sweetest, and which had been but seldom ridden since our start, and was consequently very fresh and skittish. We had spent a long time over our task of cutting up the cow, and the troop had gone far ahead. After riding about an hour we saw a white bull upon the hillside above us, but on using the telescope perceived it carried a brand upon its flank. We therefore left it in peace.

A little later, as we were riding under the western _barranca_ of the _cañadon_ of the River Mayo, we came upon some fairly fresh tracks of sheep. This fact, taken in conjunction with the appearance of the white bull, made me begin to wonder whether it was possible that the cow I had shot might not prove to be a tame one. We pushed on more rapidly, the tracks growing sharper and more distinct. Presently the tracks began to run into beaten lines, and such always mean in Patagonia that man is not far off. As we rode we discussed the chances as to who the owners of the sheep would turn out to be, and this we found sufficiently exciting, as we had beheld no strange face for many a day.

Very soon, as we rode round a curve of the cliff, we came in sight of five armadillo-shaped tents lying snugly in the valley. We had not expected to come upon the Indians, who, so our guide had told us, were in the valley of the River Mayo, until some time later, but this was undoubtedly the encampment to which he had alluded. A number of sheep and of horses, together with a small herd of cattle, proved them to be an unusually rich tribe.

The remainder of our party, on sighting the huts of the Tehuelches, had halted and were waiting for my arrival. We now rode together in the direction of the tents, and, while we were yet afar off, the hounds about the squat tents broke into a chorus of barking. As we drew nearer we could see that the tall figures, wrapped in guanaco-skins, were standing in the openings of the _toldos_, on the look-out for the arrival whose presence had been heralded by the dogs. The sun was setting by this time over the high cliffs of the _cañadon_, and the _toldos_ threw lengthened shadows upon the ground.

When we came within a short distance, the Indians stepped forward, finely developed men, of a swarthy brown, with high cheek-bones, their coarse black hair falling round their faces, and tied about the brows with a red band. The tents seemed to be full to overflowing of old women and lean hounds, all huddled together upon the ground, and a crowd of curious faces peeped forth. The _toldos_ were made of guanaco-skins, sewn loosely at their edges, and supported squarely on awkward-looking props or posts, forked at the top to admit the ridge-poles. The skins were fastened to the earth outside with wooden pegs. These dwellings appeared to be anything but weather-proof, for at the seams and lower edges were gaping slits, through which the sky or the ground was visible. As to the shape of the _toldos_, if you can imagine a very squat, deep-draught boat, cut off at rather beyond the half of her length, and turned upside down, you will have some idea of their appearance. On the roof, and about the wooden props, pieces of guanaco-meat had been hung out to dry in the sun. Within, as I have said, upon the skins which strewed the floor the dogs and grandmothers of the tribe were mingled.

It was our first experience of a Tehuelche encampment, and perhaps the most remarkable feature of it was the presence, in one form or another, of the guanaco. Some of his flesh was cooking at a fire outside the tents, the _toldos_ themselves were composed of his pelts, the ponchos which some of the women were weaving were made from his wool, the boots were formed of his neck-skin, some of the horse-gear of his hide, the men's _capas_ of his skin, while dogs, men, and women alike were fattened upon the food he provided. As I stood there, examining all these things, my mind kept running upon the cow which I had killed, and which I was now more than half afraid might have belonged to the Indians. If such proved to be the case, I knew that they would resent it very bitterly, and even perhaps attempt to make some sort of reprisals upon our horses. The idea of saying nothing about it, were my surmise as to the chance of its having been their property correct, struck me as being the least troublesome course to pursue; but nothing is more abhorrent than dealing in this way with aboriginal tribes. Personally, I should look upon picking the pocket of a civilised person as, in comparison, almost a meritorious action. I may as well say at once that I told them of the matter of the cow through the _vaqueano_ or guide whom I hired from their tents, and offered to pay for it if it happened to be their property. The _vaqueano_, however, said that no cow of that colour belonged to their herd, and, taking into consideration that she was six years old and unmarked, I made my mind easy on this point.

I shall now break off from the thread of my narrative and give a description of the Tehuelches, detailing the facts which I gathered about them during my residence in Patagonia. I will only preface it by saying that few peoples are more interesting to study than the Tehuelches, of whom various travellers have given such widely differing accounts.

FOOTNOTE:

[6] Any traveller, settler or cattleman who is acquainted with the vagaries of _cargueros_ will understand our position. Some of the horses which we used as _cargueros_ had never before had a saddle upon their backs.