As I gazed upon these uncouth, stirrupless steeds, I must confess that my heart sunk within me, and, in imagination, I felt sore already, as I thought of the ten or fifteen mile gallop that was probably in store for us. But I put as cheerful a face on the matter as was possible. The chieftain came out from his lodge, attended by numerous huntsmen, armed with their spears and bows, in readiness for the chase. He greeted us cordially, and in a short time we were mounted and moving at a brisk pace for the prairies of the interior, where the ostriches most do congregate. It would be impossible to chase the ostrich successfully if he started as fresh as his pursuer, as they are not only far fleeter than the swiftest steed, but have also far greater powers of endurance. But they have a way of managing it in Patagonia, by which the birds are taken at a disadvantage. It is one of the peculiarities of the ostrich of South America to always run before the wind, if possible, when pursued. The strong gales that are prevalent, and, indeed, almost incessant in this region, blowing against their plumes from behind, thus serve to give them a considerable acceleration of speed. Therefore, when a Patagonian chief decides to have a day of ostrich-hunting, he usually, the night beforehand, sends some of his people twenty or thirty miles down the coast (that is, if a _south_ wind is blowing, for instance.) These outriders then proceed inland, and slowly drive what birds they may meet with northward. The men do not approach near enough to cause any excessive alarm, but maintain a sufficient distance in the rear to keep the timid creatures on a moderate trot before the wind, giving them no time to halt for any considerable length of time. In this way, they keep them almost perpetually on a trot for the entire distance of twenty or thirty miles, whatever it may be. Then the sagacious chieftain, with his train of fresh horsemen, do not have much difficulty in running down the poor ostriches, already fatigued from their long thirty-mile trot. In this way the endurance of the ostrich is tested by the combined endurance of two stout horses, and, of course, is found wanting. Dicky Drake, when he heard of this _modus operandi_, swore that it was a mean, unfair thing on the ostrich, and vowed, if it wasn't for the sake of seeing the thing through, he would drop the enterprise. Well, _our_ outriders had been dispatched down the coast on the preceding night, and Walgilka assured us we should meet with excellent sport. The inevitable, incessant rain of Patagonia was falling, but not heavily, and we had come to look upon a mere drizzle almost as a sunshiny day.