n our way towards a line of buoys whose flashes lit up the
expanse ahead.

We came now close by the misty lights of a town named Puerto Militar and
further on those of Ingeniero White, the little port of Bahia Blanca to
which the _Bonadventure_ was actually bound, began to beckon. About eleven
the anchors were let go, and the pilot retired to sleep; but I still
stayed with Mead, regarding dully the dull lights of our surroundings,
and consuming cocoa, and blessing the exhalation of the continent which
had first met me at sea some weeks ago. Already fishing, the steward
leaned over the rail close by; he had often painted the angling at Bahia
Blanca in enthusiastic colours. However, he seemed to catch nothing.

By this the moon, that had grown almost a giantess as she stooped down
the horizon, and had reddened like a glowing coal to the last almost, was
dwindling. The orb became a beacon dying on a hill; then dropped below
the sky. The lightnings over the quiet sea had almost ceased.

XIX

I slept heavily, and when I got up, the _Bonadventure_ had moved into the
channel towards Ingeniero White, and was lying at anchor outside that
place. The scenery about us was of pleasing ugliness, worthy of George
Crabbe's poetical painting. To seaward there lay long stretches of mud,
or banks of a sort of grass--long layers of brown and green ending at
the frontier of a blue-grey rainy sky; and the land was low, featureless
(save for a mountain height in the hazy interior) and dark. Close to
our mooring was the assemblage of motley huts and tenements, galvanized
iron roofs, tall chimneys, and more notably the grain elevators, under
which several other steamers were lying. Above the salt marshes a rainbow
touched the clouds, and too soon the sun was pouring upon everything
a dazzling sultry heat.

At breakfast the fish which the pilot had brought aboard as a kindly
offering during the night were eaten, curried. This mode of serving them
displeased the Saloon. The steward, affecting to be in a philosophic
doze in his lair, could not fail to have heard such scathing remarks as
these:

"The nicest fish I've had down here."

"Yes, spoiled."

"Wasted."

"Why the devil must they go and camouflage it?"

"If it had been high we'd have had it neat."

"Must have curry and rice on Monday morning. Mustn't go outside the
routine."

"Well, you see, if they started on the wrong note on Monday they wouldn't
be able to pick up t