Through the Heart of Patagonia

by H. Hesketh-Prichard

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."

A DAUGHTER OF THE TOLDOS

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.