At this point, Clarke fell silent, and did not resume his story, because at that moment they met up with a band of Indians who were apparently heading at no great speed in a direction that cut across their own path. There were fifteen or so of them, all men, with a few heavily-laden spare mounts. Clarke and his companions had not spotted them because despite appearances they were in fact traveling quite quickly. The Indians shouted greetings that inevitably sounded rather wild, but generally friendly. They circled round the three of them.
“Who can they be?” Clarke wondered. Gauna had pulled up, to let him take the lead. There was nothing else for it.
He pushed his horse forward at a walk. None of the Indians responded, but there was one who seemed to be the center of the group. It was to him that the Englishman addressed himself, using common Mapuche: “Good afternoon.”
“And a very good afternoon to you,” the supposed leader replied. Then they fell silent for a moment. That was the problem on the pampa: it was almost impossible to ignore other people if you met them, but often there was nothing to say to them. Eventually the Indian, in a remarkable display of courtesy, deigned to ask: “What are you up to?”