I have mentioned in an earlier chapter the boat which Dr. Moreno had during his last expedition in the year 1897 brought, at much cost and labour, to Lake Viedma. There lay our hope. It was a steam-launch, and the Argentine Commission had packed her up carefully and snugly on the shore; but, although we knew nothing of her present condition, we were aware that the chances against her remaining undisturbed for that period of time were small, as Lake Viedma is not difficult of access, and in all probability wandering bands of Indians or Gauchos had got at the boat, stripped off her covering of canvas, and looted such of her contents as seemed to possess any value in their eyes. [Illustration: THE LAUNCH WITH MR. CATTLE AND BERNARDO ON BOARD] However that might be, this launch appeared to be our only resource, and I was lucky indeed to have been given leave to use her if necessary. On my speaking to Cattle on the matter, he was kind enough to offer to accompany me. Burbury possessed a good knowledge of engineering, which would be of invaluable service to us, and, as it happened, Bernardo, in the course of his adventurous career, had had some experience in the engine-room of a Brazilian steamer. So on February 15 we set out for Lake Viedma, with the idea of bringing the launch, if possible, down the River Leona, which is the connecting waterway between the Lakes Viedma and Argentino. To travel from our starting point at the foot of Mount Buenos Aires to Lake Viedma it was necessary to skirt Lake Argentino until the southern outlet of the Leona was reached, and then to follow that river to its source in Lake Viedma. The distance was about eighty miles more or less, and included the fording of the River Santa Cruz. Our party was made up of four men and twenty-one horses, and upon one of the packs we took a light canvas collapsible boat and a pair of oars with which to negotiate the Santa Cruz. On the following evening we arrived on its southern bank. There we found an old Commission boat that was used as a ferry, but it was beached, with the usual contrariety of things, on the wrong side of the stream, which is from one hundred and fifty to two hundred yards wide at this spot and runs with a swift current. Many a Gaucho has lost his life in attempting to cross lower down. Next morning it was still dark when the plume of smoke rose from our camp-fire of califate-wood, and as we sat round it waiting for the _asado_ to cook, we smoked (a bad habit when indulged in before breakfast, against which one would warn everybody else) and drank _maté_. It was a cool dawn I remember that developed later into a hot day. We put the collapsible boat together, and Cattle, after a mishap with a rowlock, brought the old and leaky ford-boat across, as we needed her to transport our baggage. We piled the cargo into her, and such weak places as we could deal with we strengthened.