sands of feet above the sea level, or even the level of the distant
plains.

It is long past midday, so we determine to halt, for here, pure, bubbling
from a dark green slippery rock, is a spring of water as clear as crystal
and deliciously cool. What a treat for our horses and dogs! What a treat
even for ourselves!

I notice that Dugald seems extra tired. He has done more riding to-day
than any of us, and made many a long _detour_ in search of that guanaco
which he has hitherto failed to find.

A kind of brotherly rivalry takes possession of me, and I cannot help
wishing that the first guanaco would fall to my rifle. The Gauchos are
busy preparing the stew and boiling water for the _mate_, so shouldering
my rifle, and carelessly singing to myself, I leave my companions and
commence sauntering higher up the glen. The hill gets very steep, and I
have almost to climb on my hands and knees, starting sometimes in dread as
a hideous snake goes wriggling past me or raises head and body from behind
a stone, and hisses defiance and hate almost in my face. But I reach the
summit at last, and find myself on the very edge of a precipice.

Oh, joy! On a little peak down beneath, and not a hundred yards away,
stands one of the noblest guanacos I have ever seen. He has heard
something, or scented something, for he stands there as still as a statue,
with head and neck in the air sniffing the breeze.

How my heart beats! How my hand trembles! I cannot understand my anxiety.
Were I face to face with a lion or tiger I could hardly be more nervous. A
thousand thoughts seem to cross my mind with a rush, but uppermost of all
is the fear that, having fired, I shall miss.

He whinnies his warning now: only a low and undecided one. He is evidently
puzzled; but the herd down in the bottom of the canon hear it, and every
head is elevated. I have judged the distance; I have drawn my bead. If my
heart would only keep still, and there were not such a mist before my
eyes! Bang! I have fired, and quickly load again. Have I missed? Yes--no,
no; hurrah! hurrah! yonder he lies, stark and still, on the very rock on
which he stood--my first guanaco!

The startled herd move up the canon. They must have seen their leader
drop.

I am still gazing after them, full of exultation, when a hand is laid on
my shoulder, and, lo! there stands Dugald laughing.

'You sly old dog,' he says, 'to steal a march on your poor little brother
thus!'

For a moment