As soon as we got the baggage over we saddled-up and rode through a very sandy tract of land, and by evening made our camp under a bare hillside by the River Leona.
I believe that a German expedition had once encamped there. Both wheat and beans were growing near the long-deserted camp-fire. No doubt the seed had fallen from some of the provision-bags of the Germans. There was also a miniature corral formed of bushes.
On the next day we made a very long and tiresome march, which led us into more than one difficult place. We rode on league after league over the worst sort of ground, including the descent of two or three really bad barrancas. Bernardo, who acted as guide, became shy after awhile of telling us that Lake Viedma lay only two leagues ahead. As the day wore on we rather pressed the question, and he grew correspondingly coy in his replies.
One of the barrancas led us into a sort of maze of conical mud hills, confusedly huddled together. Through them lay a tangle of guanaco-tracks, which mostly ended on the tops of the hills. The troop followed these tracks in various directions, and you were surprised at all points by the startled faces of the horses glaring down at you over unexpected bluffs. The going was very heavy, and deep holes betrayed the horses' feet. Altogether it was some time before the troop was put through.
Late in the evening we reached the shores of Lake Viedma, and found the launch. She was lying behind a bare and very low promontory. The Commission which had used her three years previously had packed her up with care in canvas and raised her on rollers. But I was sorry to find that needless and wanton damage had been inflicted upon her by some roving passers-by. They had torn off the canvas covering and appropriated many important tools, including quite a number that could have been of no possible use to any save a party meaning to use the launch herself. A few of these missing details we picked up in the adjacent bushes, where the irresponsible unknowns had thrown them.
As to the condition of the boat, her three-years sojourn on an isolated beach had not improved it. Her boiler was in rather a bad state with rust, and one of her plates was cracked. Originally built for a pleasure-launch, the Argentine Commission had raised her gunwales and decked her in; without these alterations she could not have lived in the rough waters of the lakes of Patagonia.
The evening and the surrounding scenery were equally grey and depressing, but with an ostrich, and a guanaco I had shot in the morning, we made ourselves very comfortable round the fire, while we talked over our contemplated voyage down the Leona. Cattle, whose knowledge of the subject under consideration was of immense help, agreed with me in thinking the thing could be done.
Next day Burbury, who was, as I have said, a very fair engineer, set to work with Bernardo's help to get the launch into working order, while the rest of us went to cut and gather fuel.
The two canvas boats which belonged to the launch were later found a couple of leagues down the shore, but a bit of wind began to blow, so it was impossible to bring them up, and in the event they had to be left where they were.
In making ready the launch Burbury was much hampered by having only a small supply of screws to draw upon. Time and exposure had dealt hardly with her, her pump was strained as well as being imperfect, some portion of it having been taken away. The craft was about thirty-five feet long with a displacement of about three parts of a ton. She was by no means an ideal boat for the kind of navigation that lay before us, for which a good wooden craft would have been much more safe and handy. Had her length been less it would have been another advantage, as the seas upon the lakes are very short. Weather-worn as she was, however, she represented our sole chance of getting really deep into the unpenetrated Cordillera. It was a case of take it or leave it, and which of the two it was to be gave me some thought that night.