CHAPTER XII
BACK TO CIVILISATION

Christmas Day at Horsham Camp—Horse races—Menu of dinner—Leave Horsham Camp—Basalt plateaus—Large herds of guanacos—Sterile region—Birth of filly—Father of guanacos—Search for Indian trail—Pebble hills—Finding of trail—Filly's first march—Hunting—Mirages—Rain—Tent pleasures—River Olin—Meeting Mr. Waag's party—News from outer world—River Chico—Sierra Ventana—Indian toldo—Shepherd's hut—Houses, sheep and cattle—Night in huts—Antennæ of civilisation—La Gaviota—Santa Cruz.

"Horsham Camp, Christmas Day, 1900.—Here the weather is warm; large, soft and poisonous flies haunt the marsh in the camp. The horses neigh. An ostrich, the greatest delicacy of wild game in Patagonia, hangs with three legs of guanaco on the meat gallows." So runs my diary.

We spent a very humble Christmas up there at Little Horsham Camp, and made what mild cheer we might. In the morning of Christmas Day we had horse races, a mile and a half-mile. We rode the best horses in our respective troops. Barckhausen, however, rode the Azulejo, which he decorated with a towel and a red handkerchief, to our great amusement. We were almost ready for the second race when he came in from the first, having had a difference of opinion on the way with his steed, which thought it would be much nicer to rejoin his friends and companions feeding on the green marsh than to run races.

The surprise of the day was the winning of the races by the Little Zaino, as we christened him. He was very timid and wild to saddle and mount, but once up he proved himself a treasure. In appearance he was a comely enough little horse, plump and well picked up, and had been used occasionally to carry a cargo on the way to the lake.

The day before Christmas I wanted to go for a bathe, so I caught our little friend, and, liking his pace, let him stretch himself a little on the way back over the edge of the marsh. He stretched himself to such good purpose that he was ridden in the next day's races and won the three events, although he was carrying a stone and a half more than the others! Our course lay through a belt of thick bushes, but, barring these, was good enough. At any rate, it turned out excellent fun, and we all enjoyed our races.

The only one of us who did not get a prize was riding a horse which came to us with rather a bad name, and which, immediately the others started, dashed back to the troop.

During the afternoon we made up our cargoes ready for the morrow's start, after our Christmas dinner, of which I print the menu:

LAGO BUENOS AIRES, 1900. CHRISTMAS DAY.
At 5 o'clock P.M.
Notice.—Come early to get a good helping.
Menu.
Common or Garden Duff à la Azulejo. Condiment au lait Suisse.
GRAND DUFF à la H. Jones avec muscatelles.
Bœuf.
Ostrich à la Patagonie.
(If you want it.)
Gigot de Guanaco.
(Order beforehand.)
Cocao au lait}Suisse.
Thé au lait}
Vieux Cognac avec vulcanite.
Plug Tobacco.
God Save the Queen.