One expedition on the northern shore was long remembered and talked of over the fire; and, indeed, might easily have had a very disastrous conclusion.
Towards the latter end of July I proposed to Mr. Clarke that we should proceed on foot, and investigate more closely the bed of fossil shells mentioned as situated on the hills about a mile from the north bank of the river. Accordingly, one morning we prepared to cross the river, and the remainder of the men, hearing of our intentions, volunteered, together with El Sourdo, to accompany us, and, after having visited the hills, to organise a hunting circle on foot: we started about sunrise and crossed the river to the north side, where we secured the boat above high-water mark; we then all proceeded to the hills, investigated the beds of fossil shells, and gathered many beautiful specimens. The hunt was then formed, so many dogs being apportioned to each person, and the circle being directed to close on a point on the bank of the river about three or four miles west of the settlement. The ground was very favourable for our operations, as the dips, or slightly-depressed valleys, hid us from the view of the game. On emerging on the plain at different points we saw several guanacos and some ostriches; and those nearest them slipped their hounds, following on foot at their topmost speed. Mr. Clarke, Isidoro, El Sourdo, and myself were in the centre, and killed amongst us two guanacos and an ostrich. Antonio, who was pointsman, disappeared to the westward with El Cookè, following their dogs in full chase of a herd of guanacos. Our party lit a fire, ate the ostrich, and conveyed what meat we thought advisable to take back with us towards the boat, following the river bank, which was strewn in many places with cornelians and flint-agates, and occasionally with fossilised shells. On our arrival at the boat we launched her down the beach, and, as the wind had by this time risen to a severe gale and the tide was rapidly ebbing, watched anxiously for the return of the two defaulters; for the navigation of the river is at no time very easy, and when the tide is low, even in daylight, nearly impracticable. At length, after dark, when the squalls of bitterly-cold wind had become very violent, we saw fires in the distance, and, almost half an hour afterwards, our missing men appeared, each with a load of meat on his shoulders. They arrived considerably exhausted, so we gave them a rest, and then dogs and all got into the boat and we shoved off, Mr. Clarke steering. We proceeded all right for a few yards, and then stuck on a bank; after several ineffectual efforts to shove the boat off, we all jumped into the water and fairly hove her over the bank until the water was up nearly to our shoulders, and then got in and pulled across. Owing to the violence of the wind and the strength of the current, we only succeeded in landing fully three-quarters of a mile from the house; here we secured the boat, and ran up as fast as we could to get our now frozen clothes off and a drink of hot coffee. We all agreed that on another expedition it would be advisable either to encamp on the northern shore until daylight, or come back early enough to be able to get across while it was possible to see the banks. But the general conclusion was, not to go again at all.