Patagonia Bookshelf

This morning the Lagoon Indians come to the house and ask us to sharpen their knives, which we promise to do tomorrow (mañana), at which our old friend retires contented but the others are surly and remain about the door, asking for biscuits (galleta); eventually, on Monday morning, they all set out to hunt, taking their tents and everything with them. We never saw them again. Captain Gardiner read the Services, it being my turn but more than I was equal to. If rest after extreme toil is ever sweet, this Sabbath was in every way a day of rest to me.

Thine earthly sabbath Lord we love
But there's a nobler rest above
To that our labouring souls aspire
With ardent pangs of strong desire.

No more fatigue no more distress etc.

Oh long expected day begin
Dawn on this world of woe and sin
Fain would we leave this weary road
And sleep in death to rest with God.

The sufferings endured during the journey of the last week were occasioned, I believe in my case at least, by previous anxiety and the great excitement and hard work of Tuesday, the long and fatiguing march of Tuesday night and the exposure to the cold on the damp ground early on Wednesday morning: these things occasioned a feverish thirst and an inability to eat a sufficient quantity of biscuit.