This phenomenon continued during a great part of the day. Nevertheless, they advanced rapidly, and towards six o'clock the Andes, forty miles distant, presented a darkish aspect already fading in the mists of the evening.
The travelers were a little fatigued with their journey, and, therefore, saw with pleasure the approach of the hour for retiring. They encamped on the shores of a turbulent stream, enclosed by lofty red cliffs. Toward noon of the next day, the sun's rays became very oppressive, and at evening a line of clouds on the horizon indicated a change in the weather. The Patagonian could not be deceived, and pointed out to the geographer the western portion of the sky.
"Good, I know," said Paganel, and addressing his companions: "A change in the weather is about to take place. We shall have a 'pampero.'"
TALKING LIKE A BOOK.
He explained that this pampero is frequent on the Argentine Plains. It is a very dry wind from the southwest. Thalcave was not mistaken, and during the night, which was quite uncomfortable for people sheltered with a simple poncho, the wind blew with great violence. The horses lay down on the ground, and the men near them in a close group. Glenarvan feared they would be delayed if the storm continued; but Paganel reassured him after consulting his barometer.
"Ordinarily," said he, "this wind creates tempests, which last for three days; but when the barometer rises as it does now, you are free from these furious hurricanes in a few hours. Be assured, then, my dear friend; at break of day the sky will have resumed its usual clearness."
"You talk like a book, Paganel," replied Glenarvan.
"And I am one," replied Paganel, "which you are free to consult as much as you please."
He was not mistaken. At one o'clock in the morning the wind suddenly subsided, and every one was able to enjoy an invigorating sleep. The next morning they rose bright and fresh, especially Paganel, who displayed great cheerfulness and animation.