Idle Days in Patagonia

Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. The wind had blown a gale all night, and I had been hourly expecting that the tumbling, storm vexed Old steamer, in which I had taken passage to the Rio Negro, would turn over once for all and settle down beneath that tremendous tumult of waters. For the groaning sound of its straining timbers, and the engine throbbing like an over tasked human heart, had made the ship seem a living thing to me and it was tired of the struggle, and under the tumult was peace. But at about three O'clock in the morning the wind began to moderate, and, taking off coat and boots, I threw myself into my bunk for a little sleep.