Lake Buenos Aires is one of the big lakes of Patagonia. One writer, who spent several weeks in that vicinity, says: “Lake Buenos Aires is certainly the very heart of the wind’s domain. While we were there the wind never died down; it blew all the time, often lifting sand and gravel, and sometimes a great piece of our camp fire, sheltered as that was. It raged on most days, blowing so hard that most people in England would not have cared to venture out of doors.” This lake is the largest of a chain of lakes which lie in the foothills of the great Andes system. It is fully seventy-five miles in length from north to south, and its waters are in perpetual motion from the action of the winds. Near the lake is a stretch of arid land that is the very picture of desolation. There is a very horror of bareness about it that almost makes the eyes sick to look upon it. Right near it is one of those sudden contrasts that one will find in Patagonia, fine and fertile land where sweet flowers bloom in profusion. Lake Argentine is another large lake to the south of the other. It is a great sheet of blue water, is higher up, and the peaks of the Cordilleras are nearer. This lake and those farther south are often filled with small icebergs, for the climate is getting colder all the way. At almost the southernmost point of the mainland lies the little city of Punta Arenas. It is situated on the Straits of Magellan, and is sheltered from the worst storms by the many islands which lie between it and the Antarctic seas. Punta Arenas is the most southerly city in the world, several hundred miles farther south than the Cape of Good Hope. There is plenty of building space left in this city, but a few years ago, when the boom was on, the people had visions of a southern Chicago. Fabulous prices were asked for building lots and real estate agents were almost as plentiful as the Indians. That time has passed and the town has dwindled. Its latitude is about that of Labrador, but it is much more equable and is not so severe as many imagine. Perhaps fifteen thousand people live here and seem to be contented. It is a very mixed population. You can hear Spanish, English, German, Italian, Russian and even the Chinese mingled with the guttural tongues of the Indians. The Scotch are probably the most thrifty of the inhabitants and many of them have lived there two or three generations. There are many rough characters, some even who have drifted from the mining camps of our western states. The loafing places are the bars, where many brawls occur during the long winters. There are clubs, however, where the well-to-do gather and have their games and drink their favourite drinks just as they do the world over. Most of the buildings are cheap one-story affairs, frequently built of the corrugated iron so common in this land. Punta Arenas is a free port, and this makes it a great supply station for vessels passing through the straits.