. Everyone dismounted, the
horses were taken out, and all hands were in request to pull the
vehicles across. First went the coaches, then the luggage carts were
dragged over. To illustrate the difficulties of the proceedings we
publish one of the many photos taken, during the crossing of the
tajamar. Our Guest was one of the first to help in the conveyance of
these carts. Apparently, since the gate-opening episode, he has "learnt
the wisdom early to discern true beauty in utility," for he is always to
the fore when work is to be done, and in this case his athletic training
proved the truth of the Yankee expression that "It's muscle that tells."
The Delineator and The Wild Man, as usual, when real hard work presents
itself, "thought the party would like photographs of it," and, armed
with their cameras, retired to safe distances, where the work could not
possibly interfere with them or they with it, and took photos of the
progress of the carts. We cannot complain, however, of their action (or
inaction, rather), for the resulting pictures make a good memorial of
the crossing of the Salado by the "Tacuruers." The ladies rushed to
assist when they saw that photos were being taken, but, as the carts
were well over the danger line by the time the ladies were at the
ropes, we have no pictured record of their deeds, which, we may note,
were really quite valueless at this point.

[Illustration: _Crossing the Salado._]

[Illustration: _The Effect of a Long Drought_.]

Once the horses, carts, and luggage were safely across the tajamar the
more serious business of cocktails and lunch was thought of, and, in an
incredibly short time, the usual asado of meat, brought from Lucero, was
under discussion.

The unfortunate sheep who were still spared were let out for a short
run.

The Kid, too, was set free in the hopes that she might possibly prove
useful now, but, judging from her attitude during the preparations for
lunch, we should say those hopes would not be fulfilled.

As we rest after our arduous crossing of the Salado, our thoughts are
inclined to wander to the awful tragedy enacted here in the year 1904.
It was a disastrous year for many of the northern camp men. There was an
appalling drought of long continuation, for which all the northern camps
were totally unprepared; the river over which we have just passed became
the concentration spot for all that is most terrible at such times. It
is not exaggerating the case when