"The Imperial Austrian Frigate, Novara, 44, under the command of Commodore the Chevalier von Wüllerstorf-Urbair, engaged in a voyage round the globe for scientific purposes, anchored at nine in the morning of 19th November, 1857, on the Eastern side of St. Paul, with the purpose of prosecuting astronomical, magnetic, meteorological, and geodesical observations and measurements, and at same time examine thoroughly the natural history of the island. Extremely unfavourable weather in great measure delayed the expedition; and, after having successfully carried out a series of observations and researches, the results of which will in due time be published, the officers and naturalists in charge of the various departments, on the 6th December of the same year, quitted St. Paul, each bearing with him the most pleasing reminiscences of that interesting island, and of its three poor, but eminently kind inhabitants.

"For the guidance of future observers the following memoranda may prove useful:—

"I. That the spot at which observations were taken was on a small eminence, north of the huts of the colonists, and which may be recognized by a small pyramid of stones, on which the Austrian Expedition marked the observed latitude 38° 42′ 55″ S., and the longitude 77° 31′ 18″ E. of Greenwich.[67] Further that:—

"II. That the direction of the true meridian line drawn from this point to the nearest opposite shore of the South side of the crater-basin was marked by an oblique (St. Andrew's) cross.

"III. That the tidal-gauge was situated on a rock near the landing-place, and that the rise of the tide above the mean level of the water (3 feet 5 inches), was marked on a slab of rock smoothed for the purpose.

"IV. Lastly. The magnetic observations were taken in a hut erected for that express purpose on the little plateau behind the settlers' huts, where at the same time various sorts of useful trees were planted by the Expedition.

"The names of the officers and naturalists who, under the superintendence of the commander of the Imperial Expedition, took part in the various scientific operations were:—for Astronomy and Terrestrial Magnetism, Lieutenant Robert Müllar; Botany, Dr. Edward Schwarz and M. Jellinck; Geodesy and Meteorology, Lieutenant Eugen Kronowetter; for the Trigonometrical Measurement of the Crater-basin, Lieutenant Gustavus Battlogg; for Geology, Dr. Ferdinand Hochstetter; Ethnology and Physical Geography, Dr. Karl Scherzer; Zoology, G. Frauenfeld and J. Zelebor; Draughtsman and Artist, Joseph Sellemy."

Towards 5 p. m. the last boat came off with the measuring and levelling instruments, and various articles of baggage.[68] The embarkation was finally completed. Half-an-hour later the Novara weighed anchor, and we steered, favoured with most splendid weather and full of pleasing anticipations, for the adjacent island of New Amsterdam. Not without sundry twitches of sadness did we remark the sharp crater of St. Paul gradually fade away like a vision in the gloom of approaching night; and many undying memories must attach to our residence on that lonely, world-forsaken island.

And now, at the moment of our departure from the island, be it permitted us to cast a retrospective glance at the various results obtained by the Expedition of the Novara during her stay at St. Paul.

Never hitherto on this island, so important by its geographical position for ships trading with China, the East Indies, Australia, and New Zealand, have astronomical and magnetic observations and geodesical measurements been so thoroughly ascertained as by the Novara expedition. Upon a carefully measured base-line, various points of the upper and lower margin of the crater were accurately laid down by means of the Theodolite, and the whole island submitted to a geometric network of angles. At the same time the geologist, with the aid of the compass and the patent levels, prepared a chart originally intended for geological purposes only, while the draughtsman of the expedition added to its value, by skilfully sketching in from these given points the configuration of the coast-line of the island. By their united efforts there has been published a chart of St. Paul, which gives even to the minutest details an entirely correct and accurate representation of the form and surface of the island. This minute chart, or plan, was prepared on a scale of 132 Vienna fathoms to one Vienna inch, or ¹⁄₉₅₀₄ of the natural size. Moreover, it is intended preparing, from this map and from the various outlines and views taken on the spot, a plastic model of the island after Nature, which, moulded in gypsum, will give scientific inquirers the most accurate conception of its singular structure. Not less interesting for navigators in the Indian Ocean will be the publication of the various observations which, during our stay of 18 days, were made with the barometer, thermometer, tide-gauge, and gauge of the velocity of currents, taken at certain fixed hours, day and night, as also the soundings in the crater-basin, and on both sides of the bar. Although the complete publication of these data must await the appearance of the nautical portion of the present work, we shall give here the most important of these results. The extreme length of the island from N.W. to S.E., is three nautical miles; the superficial area is 1,600,000 Vienna square klafter—1 Vienna klafter = 1 fathom = 6 English feet—100 English square feet = 92 ⁹⁸⁶⁄₁₀₀₀ Vienna square feet. The highest point of the crater-basin is 846 feet; the greatest diameter of the upper rim of the crater is 5490 feet; the least 4590 feet; the greatest diameter of the basin at the level of the sea is 3984 feet, and the least 3444 Vienna feet.

The observations on the state of the weather, taken with much difficulty, are not intended to include the regular observations on the exterior of the island, and in like manner some of those taken in the harbour, or basin of the crater, must be accepted with a certain limitation. For similar reasons, we were unable to fix the rate of the current setting from the sea into the basin, although we secured most extraordinary results considering the circumstances. The amount of specimens of natural history which was procured, was very limited, but on that account was the more valuable. To the geologist, it must be of the very highest interest to find that St. Paul has been classified, with scientific precision, and by dint of personal examination and research, in one of the four main divisions in which, according to the scheme of Alexander Von Humboldt, the volcanic formations of the earth may be divided. Measured by the latest distribution of the volcanic strata by the description of stone found, as laid down by the greatest of German naturalists, St. Paul belongs to the same class as Chimborazo, Popocatepetl, Teneriffe, &c., in a word, to what is known as the Chimborazo formation. A section of the east-side, taken in profile, lays bare its entire geological history, and forms one of the most instructive means of coming to direct conclusions as to its geological structure.

The birth of this island from the bosom of the deep, combined with eruptions of lava and scoriæ, was the last effort of the subterranean forces. Since that period it has been subject wholly and solely to the various terrestrial influences, although the lapse of centuries has not been able to extirpate the last traces of the volcanic fire which once poured forth its currents of molten lava. A large proportion of the level ground is hot, and at the lower edge of the rim of the crater appear several hot springs, the temperature of which, as already remarked, is so high that fish, eggs, potatoes, &c., can be cooked on them in a few minutes. The highest point of St. Paul rises 870 feet above the basin of the crater. Its walls rise abruptly at an angle of about 85°, while the upper surface of the island (with the single exception of a small plateau of about 400 feet on the north side) stretches, at first level from the periphery of the upper margin of the crater, gradually falling away towards the sea-coast, at an angle of about 13°. On its North-west coast, where it is from 100 to 200 feet in perpendicular height, the island presents several small pyramids of pumice, like parasitic warts on the principal mass.

Like the geologist, the botanist also found in this wild spot an unusual opportunity of acquiring accurate information as to the occurrence and propagation of certain kinds of plants in a primitive soil. Six grasses and one reed (cyperaceæ) form the vegetation of the island, one rush and three or four of the grasses forming the majority. The botanist having ascended to the plateau found there two grasses, both of which grew to a certain height only, and at certain places; the one (in the immediate vicinity of the settler's huts,) the oat, or avena; the second a digitaria, in the neighbourhood of the terraced fields, directly opposite the entrance to the crater, in warm positions, which, so soon as the earth is a little disturbed, emit jets of steam. It is still uncertain whether the other kinds of grass, Poa and Setaria Holcus, belong exclusively to St. Paul, or are to be included in the more general group of geographical plants known as that of the islands of Edward's Island, Kerguelen's Island, and St. Paul.

Among the grasses there spring up here and there, but on the whole very sparsely, some wild vegetables which have been planted by previous chance visitors.[69] In the crater there are also Sonchus arvensis and one Plantago (Plantain). On the south margin of the crater are Cerastium (maize-ear chickweed), and Stellaria media (chickweed); both grow on a small piece of ground, and are far from thriving. Of Cryptogamia the botanist found four sorts. Two Parmelias, one Evernia, and one Cladonia, the first-named overrunning the blocks on the edge of the crater with great luxuriance.

Of Algæ there were found 33 species. The stones rolled backwards and forwards by the action of the waves, as also those surfaces which remained covered at lowest tide, were entirely covered with Dicurella flabellata. Most numerous was Gigartina radula, just in a state of fructification. Every movement of the water calls up slender, delicate confervæ, and pale and coloured luminariæ. The breakers have crowned the stones with festoons of the Macrocystis pyrifera. Of Liverworts there were found Marchantia and Jungermania; of foliaceous mosses, Sphagnum (bog-moss), and two kinds of Bruym. Two ferns, just beginning to bear fruit, were found on the plateau, and one Lycopodium (club-moss), which thrives pretty well, and frequently grows on the Sphagnum. On the whole, the botanist of the expedition found on the island, 11 Phanerogamia, 4 Lichens, 33 Algæ, 2 ferns, 2 Liverworts, 3 foliaceous mosses, 1 Lycopodium. In this enumeration are included the European vegetables cultivated by the residents, as also some untended plants, which apparently have been introduced with the vegetables, or have been brought hither by previous visitors. The stony substratum of this island is barely covered with a plastic vegetable substance, which fills the cracks. The walls of the crater, as also the entire plateau, present to view a plain, unrelieved expanse of grass; not, however, like fields clothed with sward, but single tufts pressing one upon the other, which seem like the grave-mounds of a hundred bygone generations of plants. Frequently, at the foot of a block of pumice, all overrun with grasses of all sorts, one comes upon a moss or a stem of fern on one of the pieces of lava that has been washed up, or perceives with amazement in some out-of-the-way place, and utterly neglected, good old acquaintances from Europe, such as carrots, parsley, potatoes, &c., which apparently have been begun to be cultivated on some of the terraces, whence they have propagated themselves in a wild state all over the island. But not a tree, or bush, is to be met with throughout the island.

In like manner, although the zoologist seemed to have but a poor prospect at St. Paul, it presented materials for most satisfactory speculation to the attentive naturalist. Only one of the grasses is infested by an insect, which appears in great numbers, a very tiny cicada (cricket), the Delphis hemiptera, of which, according to the zoologist of the expedition, it is hard to say whether it became indigenous to St. Paul before, or contemporaneous with the arrival of man. Among other insects that have certainly been introduced here, the zoologist found the common bluebottle-fly, a gnat, the universally found cockroach, the book-tick (acarus eruditus), one kind of earwig, and the flea; besides the Isopodis, our common barrel-worm,[70] in almost fabulous quantities. These animals invariably follow man wherever he plants his foot, living upon garbage or decaying organic matter. With the exception of the clothes-moth, which has probably been introduced among the wool-stuffs, there are in the island no butterflies, none of the been tribe, no Neuroptera. Mites also need scarcely be reckoned, since the only representative, the common cheese-mite, is more apt to become extinct than to thrive; on the other hand, there are two kinds of spiders, for which the enormous number of flies furnish sufficient food.

The species belonging to the sea are somewhat more plentifully represented, although, with few exceptions, very small and insignificant. The largest shell fish, a Tritonium, only attains a length of 3 inches; Patella, which is very plentiful all round the island, is only 1 inch long; several sorts of snails (such as Buccinum, Defrancia, Mangelia, Paludinella, Adeorbis, Janthina, Fissurella, Scutellina, Lepidopleurus, Bulla, Asteronotus, Doto), are barely a few lines in length, or even less.

The Brachiopoda are represented by a very inferior member, the Terebratulina, only two lines long, which, however, is a giant compared with one of the two only kinds of mussel, Kellia and Lima, which are occasionally met with here, and are only half-a-line in length.

Among the Vertebratæ, the fishery of which is the principal object of the visits annually paid to the island, one, the Cheilodactylus, a spinous-finned fish, which is extraordinarily abundant all round the island, supports an important fishery, while Thyrsites Atun were frequently caught with rod and line from the frigate.

Of Amphibiæ, there is not a vestige to be found on the island; the birds belong for the most part to the powerful-winged web-footed birds that frequent the open ocean, as, for example, the Diomedea exulans (great albatross or man-of-war bird), D. chlororhynchus (yellow-billed albatross), D. fuliginosa (a new one not determined), Lestris catarractes, Storna sp: Prion Vittatus, of which the four last-named, at the time of our visit, had both eggs and young. Of birds with fin-shaped wings, there was the golden-crested penguin (Apterodytes chrysocoma S.), living in two distinct colonies among the precipitous overhanging cliffs, with innumerable young, already of a pretty good size.[71] We also remarked several other winged denizens of the deep, which had alighted on our ship during the last few days immediately preceding our arrival at St. Paul. According to the fishery-people, the other birds of the island quit it altogether so soon as their young have grown sufficiently, and only return when the next breeding season comes round.

In contradistinction to the sea-birds, M. Frauenfeld remarked but one single land-bird, a swallow, whose movements seemed to indicate that he was watching a breeding female. A stray bird on this lonely spot of earth, nearly 3000 miles away from the main land! Hundreds of questions suggested themselves on thus unexpectedly coming upon so well-known a wanderer. What could have condemned him to this self-imposed exile? Was he a straggler? Was it the first time he had selected this island for a home? Had it been his own cradle? And would he at some future period find companions to visit with him, and ultimately share these solitary desolate abodes?

There were no seals visible,—they have retreated before the attacks and stratagems of their insatiate pursuer the seal-hunter, and for a long period have ceased to frequent the island. Indeed, St. Paul furnishes not a single specimen of mammal peculiar to itself; for all the members of this great natural division at present on it,—such as goats, swine, cats, &c.,—having become wild, must necessarily be classed, however unusual, with rats, mice, and the like. In other respects, all these have not varied in the slightest from the type of the domesticated animal (although they have probably lived wild for a hundred years past), except that they are very shy and avoid the presence of man.

While upon these various points, the stay of the Imperial Expedition at St. Paul gave many splendid results by means of observations and scientific collections, it was also productive of a number of important practical benefits for seafaring people. The geodesical results, for instance, obtained by the Expedition, demonstrate that there is formed by the basin of the crater at St. Paul's, despite the small extent of its coast-line, a secure natural haven which would afford substantial facilities for ships, to which, on their voyage to China, Australia, or anywhere in the East Indies, any accident has happened, necessitating complete and speedy repair, or which might require fresh provisions for their crews, stricken with scurvy after a long voyage. For, although the depth of the basin of the crater in the centre is very considerable, and although the squalls of wind from the N.W. are often very violent, the ship can always make fast to the land, and so ensure the requisite security. How far the assistance so cheerfully rendered by science may have been called for, or how far the route at present traversed by sailing vessels makes that assistance desirable, must be left to the judgment of those nations, such as the English, French, and Dutch, which, as having possessions washed by the Indian Ocean, have a direct interest in the future condition of such a harbour of refuge, situate equidistant from Asia, Africa, and Australia.

The morning after our departure from St. Paul, that is to say, on 7th Dec., we found ourselves not more than ten miles distant from Amsterdam. The first view of the island greatly resembles that of St. Paul, and the hypothesis gained constantly in probability that the geological formation of Amsterdam is nearly identical with that of St. Paul.

A whaler was cruising in the neighbourhood of the island, while one of his slim whaleboats was pursuing a school of sperm whales, which sported about in great numbers.

Towards 7 a. m., a boat approached from the whaler Esmeralda, Captain Pierce, of New Bedford, Massachusetts, to ask for surgical assistance for a sailor who, while engaged a few days previously in hauling a captured fish alongside, had had his left hand so severely injured by one of the lines, that amputation had seemed the sole remedy. The Captain had, in genuine Yankee fashion, assumed the duties of surgeon, and performed the operation himself. Now that it was over, and when neither praise nor censure could benefit the patient, he was anxious to know whether he had done right or wrong. While one of the ship's surgeons was getting ready, as requested by the captain, to proceed to the bedside of his patient, the whaler informed us he had already been absent from his family in the States five months, and would proceed hence to the Sandwich Islands and the Northern grounds, and finally return home round Cape Horn. If the take of fish proved good, he hoped to complete the voyage within two years. Whale-fishing, in truth, is not only a very dangerous and laborious, but also a most precarious pursuit. Occasionally a ship gets loaded within a brief space with oil and whalebone, by which, of course, the owner or charterer makes a splendid profit, and the entire crew obtain a handsome share. But frequently does it happen that, after a voyage of fifteen months and more, there is not a single fish taken, in which case the hardy sailors, who are entirely dependent for their pay upon a share of the spoil, have had all their labour and undergone all their privations in vain, while the freighter is poorer by a good round sum. The bare chance, however, of a rich haul is sufficient to raise to 8000, the number (probably on the increase) of the ships of varying tonnage and nationality, which at present encounter the anxieties, dangers, and hardships attaching to the whale-fishery. It is calculated that, were it possible to anchor them within signalling distance of each other, they would form a complete girdle round the earth at the Equator. In other respects, the incessant activity of the whaler is not without its advantages for science, since the observations and communications of many of the captains connected with the whaling business have essentially contributed to extend our acquaintance with atmospheric phenomena, especially in high latitudes, on both sides of the Equator.

The loquacious captain, an uncommon quality in a Yankee, could not conceal his astonishment at encountering an Austrian man-of-war in such a latitude in mid-ocean, and adverted to this unexpected phenomenon. Captain Pierce further complained bitterly of the weather, and said that, as long as he had sailed the Indian Ocean, he had never at this season experienced such tempestuous weather as during the last week; which was further confirmed by several other whalers, regular visitors to these waters. Respecting Amsterdam, Captain Pierce, unfortunately, could give us but very little information. He had never set foot on the island, nor did he know whether it was accessible at all. But he spoke highly of the availability of the coasts for valuable fish. Nowhere in the Indian Ocean, the Captain remarked, was there such an abundance of fish of all descriptions as at the Southernmost point of this little-known island. Consequently most whalers, on their course Southwards, approach this island, and send out boats to bring in supplies of fish suitable for the table. Usually the boat is filled in a few hours with delicious food caught with the rod and line, when the fish are forthwith salted, in sufficient quantities to supply the crew for several weeks.

Is Amsterdam really a sister-island of St. Paul? Is it, too, of volcanic origin, upheaved by the same subterranean energy, and does it still show similar traces of long-continued activity? These questions pressed on us for solution all the more vividly as we neared this inaccessible island, when we recalled to mind the mysterious phenomena which D'Entrecasteaux had observed here in March, 1792, and which have remained unexplained to this day.[72] The French Expedition saw, it is true, clouds of smoke emerging alternately from a subterranean opening close to the shore, but without being able to satisfy themselves whether the vegetation had been set on fire by the hand of man or by volcanic action, the wind which blew direct from the island making it impossible to land, unless one was prepared to run the risk of being suffocated by the rolling masses of smoke. There was, therefore, to be solved, at Amsterdam, the mystery as to whether the pillars of smoke, which were observed by the naturalists of the French Expedition of 1792, issuing from the soil adjoining the sea, were produced by an actual eruption, or were caused by subterranean fires in activity.[73]

About 11 a. m., the two jolly-boats of the Novara were lowered to look for a landing-place on Amsterdam, while the frigate stood off and on, under easy sail, at an offing of five or six miles. Our whaling informant had told us the most abundant fishing-station was at the south point of the island, while the best place for disembarking was on the N.W. shore. As, however, upon consideration, it was deemed advisable, looking to the probability of a N.E. gale springing up, to get to windward of the ship, so as to be able to fetch her more speedily on our return, the S.E. side was selected, and our course laid for it accordingly. Along the acclivities of the coast pyramids of loose stones were visible, resembling those on St. Paul, but more numerous and of larger dimensions, the entire island seeming altogether on a much larger scale, and more lofty. On the West side we observed rocky precipices of from 1000 to 2000 feet in height, fissured with deep clefts and rents, whereas on the South and S.E., these presented a more gradual slope.

For above an hour we steered along the shore, which rose sheer out of the water, without being able to detect a single point at which it was at all practicable to disembark, so as to scramble up to the high ground. The entire Eastern side is hemmed around with steep abrupt precipices of 150 to 200 feet high, not unlike skilfully-erected bastions, and clothed with long thick grass.

As we drew near, we could plainly discern in the water-courses that descend upon the upper slope—radiating, as it were, from all sides of the highest peak, which was enveloped in clouds—numerous streams of water, each pouring through a rift like a thread of silver, after which, precipitating itself over the steep precipices on the shore, it washed like a small torrent over terraces and banks of lava, till it was lost in the sea. If these streams are swollen by the heavy rain in winter, they may form waterfalls, as mentioned by early navigators, which must impart a far less pleasing character to the landscape. Two small patches of dazzling white, like fresh fallen snow, which were visible high above the slope, we could not make out with the utmost power of our glasses. The green colour which enveloped the entire island seemed to indicate the existence of grass vegetation resembling that of St. Paul.

At last, when we had got within two cables' length of the shore, we encountered enormous green flakes of floating sea-weed, which, becoming entangled with the rudder, made further progress possible only by dint of most strenuous exertions. This proved to be the same gigantic sea-tangle of the Southern hemispheres (Macrocystis Pyrifera), which likewise constitutes a barrier of fucus on the East side of St. Paul. The sea-calves mentioned by older describers were nowhere to be seen; but on the other hand we had an opportunity of satisfying ourselves as to the immense abundance of fish which frequent the coast of the island in a truly astonishing degree, although the American whaler had prepared us by his remarks. From bow and stern of the boat hooks and lines were hung out, and several of the crew were at once kept busy hauling in the lines, at the end of each of which there usually struggled a fish of some two or three feet long. These were chiefly umber fish, which are also very plentiful about St. Paul, where, from their delicacy, they formed a favourite dish at our otherwise very frugal repasts.

We had now got so near, that we could distinctly perceive grass and the stems of ferns growing among the clefts of the rocks. However, although there was a dead calm, and the sea outside was as smooth as glass, the long ground-swell of the ocean, with its broad flat billows, caused such a heavy surf on the rock-bound stony beach, that the attempt to pass it was not to be thought of. The further we advanced along the coast in a northernly direction, the more distant we got from the ship, and unluckily in an equal degree our hopes were disappointed of finding a spot at which we could land, and scramble from the strand up the steep bank to the level ground above. The south-easternmost point, which at a distance presented the appearance of a low headland jutting out into the sea, behind which we had hoped to find a good landing-place, now that we had got close to it, proved to be a small detached rock; while the shore, as far as the eye could reach, rose like a wall to a height of from 150 to 200 feet. There now hove in sight five whalers, who seemed hunting that most valuable of all the inhabitants of the deep, of the spots frequented by which Maury's renowned Whale Charts have lately supplied so interesting and useful a code of instruction. These charts, which are based on a vast number of observations, of the tracts of ocean and seasons of the year at which whales are most frequently seen, will at the same time greatly tend to a solution of the question as to the migration of these enormous mammals; for it has never yet been settled, whether these animals flee from the pursuit of man to remote seas, thus continually constraining their pursuers to seek their prey in new waters, or whether, (as is the most prevalent opinion), they are always entirely extirpated from one locality, and accordingly are only to be met with in any numbers in some different area, in which man has as yet only rarely, if ever, disturbed them.[74]

After an hour-and-a-half of continuous rowing, and when, in our very unsuitable boat, we had got about 7 nautical miles distant from the frigate, we at last found a smooth spot between two reefs, which projected above the level of the sea like a breakwater, and at once let go the boat's anchor. A regular landing-place, however, was not to be hoped for at this point. It was necessary first to make a spring to a block of rock, and thence, picking one's way among stones rendered slippery by being covered at flood-tide, endeavour to reach the beach. This we all succeeded in accomplishing over the rough rocks, without any mischance, and at last we stood on the firm soil of the Island of Amsterdam, at a spot which assuredly had never before been trodden by human feet, unless by some castaway. For only in consequence of the sea being perfectly calm, which at this season was quite unusual, were we able to reach the shore at this point.

What a scene of wildest desolation, and inaccessible solitude now met our gaze! Around us nothing but huge blocks of basalt, some rolled about by the breakers, and so slippery with half-dry algæ, that one was in danger of falling at every stride; others with their angles and indentations as sharp, as when first violently torn from their original bed; and behind these gigantic blocks, a perpendicular wall of rock rising 200 feet sheer, composed of a schistus of basaltic lava lying regularly and horizontally one over the other, intermixed with red or brown slag, and yellow tufa. Immense holes and cavities in the rocky wall, as also the empty spaces between the broken blocks that had fallen down, and the vast air-holes scooped out in the lava beds, furnished an undisturbed nestling-place for flocks of a beautiful sea-swallow, with glossy black head, silver-grey body, and bill and feet of carmine red—the most elegant and attractive contrast of colours that can well be imagined upon any bird. These pretty creatures afforded great amusement to the sportsmen of our little party, while the geologist acquired a better idea and more information as to the mineralogy and geognosis of the island beneath the steep wall of rock, than he could have obtained above, where all seemed to be covered with thick green grass. But the botanist and zoologist found but little to repay their search on the beach. The same Algæ, the same grasses, the same patellæ (limpets), as at St. Paul, even to the same caterpillars swarming upon every tuft of grass in numberless quantities. At several points, fresh, perfectly good, sweet spring-water trickled down from the heights, and we could thus confirm the relations of former explorers, that the island contains fresh water; but whether it can be got at, still remains a very uncertain question. As we were convinced, after several examinations and much exertion, that to ascend the precipice from this spot was impossible, it was resolved, after the men had rested, and a few observations had been made with the sextant, to re-embark and endeavour to find a more suitable spot for disembarking.

We quitted this first spot about 2 p. m., and continued to steer along the coast in a N.E. direction. The character of the scenery remained almost unaltered. The steep shore wall indeed dipped somewhat occasionally, but it was never less than 100 feet above the level of the sea. At various points there appeared, as at St. Paul, between the tufa strata, black veins of basalt, and fragments of scoriæ, lying upon reddish-brown slag. Our curiosity, however, was especially excited by the appearance of small trees and low bushes. At first, while we were yet at some distance, we could barely distinguish a few dark, clear, green spots amid the universal dull olive appearance of the vegetation that covered the island; now that we were keeping closer in, we plainly saw small trees, which seemed most to resemble forests of pine, as also what appeared to be thick close brushwood of a light green colour, with which large patches of the middle and lower slopes of the island were covered. In vain did we watch for some spot in this singular island at which we might land and climb; at length, after steering several miles further along the coast, and passing several promontories advancing from the island, and numerous isolated rocks, we came, towards 3.30 p. m., upon a number of lava-blocks that had fallen from above, and, forming a sort of dam or bulwark between the sea and the shore, seemed to render disembarkation possible. The boat's anchor was again dropped, and we proceeded to make for the shore by dint of jumping, as before, from rock to rock; a method of reaching land more agreeable and better suited to penguins than decorous philosophers!

Among the rocks on the strand lie fragments of shipwrecked vessels—pieces of masts and yards—dumb witnesses of human disaster, and suffering, and death! At this point the shore was not very steep. The masses of rock piled here on each other in wild confusion, made our ascent more practicable than at our former landing-place, though perhaps they necessitated greater circumspection. Dr. Hochstetter and M. Zelebor, as also Lieutenant Kronowetter, and a sailor, started for the height. A ridge, grown over with grass and rushes, and forming a line of communication between the upper and lower portions of the island, seemed the most accessible point. at which to mount to the high ground above. At first the path led over the colossal rampart of broken rocks and through the surf, after which came clumps of rushes and clods, in which the former grew, and thence upwards over masses of slag. It was a regular Sisyphean task. On the loose rolling débris beneath the feet, for every five feet forwards, one slipped four backward, so that to climb this height of little over 100 feet, took nearly a whole hour. At last the adventurous scramblers stood on the top of the island, on a small bare cone of scoriæ, whence they were able to overlook a portion of the ground. Dense rush-like grass, as high as a man, thickly covered the entire surface—half-withered, half of a lively green; here broken short off by wind and rain, there still standing erect. Further progress was not to be thought of, not even as far as the green clump of bushes which had already been observed from the boat, although it was scarcely a hundred paces distant, on the surface of the declivity, and although a closer examination promised to afford many interesting details as to the vegetation on the island. It would have been necessary to make one's way either through heaps of withered rushes, requiring to be broken down at every moment, or across thick, matted, fresh, slippery grass, in order to get anywhere near the copse that resembled the pinewood. Moreover, owing to the short allowance of daylight that remained, both were for the present inaccessible.[75] Evening was coming on, and it was necessary to think of our return, as we were at a distance of at least eight miles from the frigate. With the help of pocket-handkerchiefs, which they had tied to the reeds, the explorers readily found again the place at which they had ascended, and now speedily returned to the improvised landing-place, where, meanwhile, the naturalists that had remained behind had occupied themselves with collecting specimens on the beach, and amid the surrounding rocks. A singular spectacle now presented itself to the astonished view. A couple of lucifer matches that had been thrown aside without further thought, had burst into flames amid the parched rush beds, and dense volumes of black smoke forthwith rose upon the surface of the island. The fire speedily spreading among the thick dry grass, soon assumed a formidable breadth, and ere long a considerable portion of the east coast of the island was in a light flame. There was now presented to the members of the Novara expedition, the same spectacle as that witnessed by the naturalists of the Recherche, when D'Entrecasteaux passed here some sixty years before. It may safely be assumed that the fire, and the thick wreaths of smoke then visible were like those of to-day, the result of man's hands, and not of subterranean forces—in fact, kindled in all probability by fishermen, who were clearing this uninhabitable island of the close impervious brushwood that so greatly impedes locomotion, and were rendering it capable of being traversed, as well as susceptible of cultivation. During the night of 7th and 8th December, 1857, the sky was clear and cloudless, and the flames crackled and leaped high above the beach, in an elliptical area, which must have measured a couple of miles in its major axis. A dense, copper-coloured, luminous cloud of smoke rose straight into the air, where it spread out horizontally, till at last a long trail of smoke stretched in a S.E. direction to the farthest horizon, entirely covering the upper part of the island. About 2 a. m., according to the report of the officer of the watch, the spectacle was still more grand and imposing. The conflagration at that time extended over an immense surface, so that the imagination might naturally enough be disposed to regard this as the bursting forth of the pent-up flames of a volcano, with the usual accompaniments of red-hot streams of lava, clouds of floating ashes, and pillars of flame mounting to heaven.

Fortunately, this gigantic conflagration must have done far more good than harm to this desolate island, covered as it was for the most part with reeds, since, without destroying any of the vegetation that could be of service to man, it will greatly facilitate examination by future voyagers, and adapt it for settlement by fishers and others, who at present seem to leave it utterly abandoned.

Towards 6 p. m., as it was already getting dark, our two boats set out on their return to the frigate, from which in the course of the day they had been distant about fifteen miles. However a fresh Northerly breeze having sprung up we were able to make sail, and at 7.30 p. m. once more reached the frigate, when we were received with a storm of questions, principally turning upon the mysterious far-visible conflagration,—which had been kindled by a couple of humble Vienna lucifers! During our visit to the island a variety of observations were also made on board the frigate, to obtain the position of Amsterdam, as also to determine the elevation of the most prominent peaks of the island, and the outline of the shore. The results of these gave the following: latitude 37° 58′ 30″ S.; longitude, 77° 34,' 44″ E. of Greenwich; elevation of the highest summit (nearly corresponding with previous observations), 2891 English feet; of the second highest, 2651 feet; the length of the South coast, as measured from the frigate, 32,359 feet; of the Western shore, 5507 feet.

There was still some faint hope that we might visit the island next day. However, during the night the wind sprung up, the weather became variable, and we saw ourselves compelled to renounce our cherished desire to investigate the island thoroughly, the rather that, owing to the unpropitious weather during the last few weeks, the stay of the Novara in these latitudes had been prolonged so considerably beyond the period fixed, that no more time could be spared, if it were desirous to avoid sacrificing the objects of the Expedition with reference to other and more important departments of scientific enquiry, by engaging in them at a season in all probability highly unfavourable for the purpose.

Consequently our observations in Amsterdam remained most imperfect; although the geologist of the expedition was enabled to clear up the uncertainty hitherto prevailing as to the geological structure of the island, and to determine upon scientific data, that Amsterdam is an extinct volcanic cone, of precisely the same character, and belonging to the same order of volcanic formation as the sister island of St. Paul; that it probably contains on itself all the usual indications of its volcanic origin, and that its upheaval probably took place at the same period. On the other hand, the naturalist regretted to see slip the opportunity so rarely vouchsafed, of instituting a comparison between the respective vegetations of these islands, and of making evident how, simultaneously with the advance of a more luxuriant, and more multiform vegetable organization, there also appears an entirely new race of animals, and how closely allied in the economy of nature is the existence of individual specimens with certain fixed pre-existent types. In any case St. Paul, which we enjoyed an opportunity of examining in the utmost detail, is, of the two islands, the most important to the commerce of the world, not merely as a finger-post on the most frequented deep-sea route in the Indian Ocean, but also as a haven of refuge for ships and crews. Already the crater-basin of St. Paul has served in case of need as a desirable asylum for ships that are half unseaworthy. Not many years since an English man-of-war steamer came to St. Paul, after a severe storm in the Indian Ocean, during which her engine broke down, and her rudder was knocked away, after which she, for twelve days, was steered by a temporary rudder. The vessel, after discharging the heaviest part of her equipment, was easily brought into the interior of the crater-basin, and was there hove down for several months on the Northern barrier, undergoing repairs.

On the 8th December, about 4 a. m., only a dark cloud of smoke in the distant cloudless horizon indicated the position of Amsterdam. The island itself, properly speaking, was actually out of sight, for a fresh N.W. breeze had driven us merrily along during the night. The last hope was now dissipated of being able to obtain a view of the North side of Amsterdam. We were now rapidly approaching the region of the S.E. Trades. The breeze freshened and crept gradually to the West, thence to the South, and finally to the Eastward. This veering of the wind proved to be a fore-runner of the Trades, which we got into on 14th December, in S. latitude 28° 1′, E. longitude 85°.

On that day a merchantman hove in sight, which, with favouring breezes and all sail set, soon bore down on us. She came down without any flag, and stood right across our bows at so short a distance that we could plainly read her name—the Bunker's Hill, of Boston—on her stern. Thereupon we ran up our flag; and, as it is as gross a breach of the code of maritime politeness for a ship to pass across the bows of another in the open ocean without saluting, as for a man on land to brush quickly across another's path without apologizing, a blank shot was fired at this unmannerly American. To this manifestation etiquette lays it down that, as the hoisting of her flag by a man-of-war is a direct challenge for any merchantman that may be in sight to hoist its flag, any neglect of these universally recognized rules must involuntarily give rise to suspicions. After we had fired the blank shot, the American, by a telegraph of flag-signals, enquired the latitude and longitude, which in merchant ships in the open sea is pretty frequently resorted to, in order to know where precisely they are, as they are not able to make such frequent observations as ships of war. Before anything else, however, it was necessary to settle the question of saluting; and this the obstinate Yankee, in spite of the warning signal, seemed resolved not to notice, although he well knew the seriousness of his position, as was abundantly evident in the celerity with which several ladies and gentlemen, whom we could discern on deck, flew to seek shelter below! A second report, accompanied by a ball over his stern, at last brought this pertinacious captain to his senses, and the whistling of the shot had the desired effect. The "Stars and Stripes" were run up, upon which we signalled the required latitude and longitude. Probably it was but a petulant explosion of a silly national vanity, as also the consciousness of commanding a handsome crack "clipper," that could speedily run out of gun-shot, which led to this premeditated and persistent violation of one of the most ordinary rules of politeness. Indeed, even the vessels of the North American navy itself are frequently compelled in the open sea to treat their fellow-countrymen in a similar manner; and the captain of the war-steamer Minnesota, looking after the North American interests in China, was obliged, as we learned afterwards at Shanghai, to enforce a compliance with established sea usages on one of his seafaring compatriots, by dint of cannon-shot, in accordance with the undoubted practice of all maritime nations.

The south-east Trade, which we had hoped would drive us on our destined course, was not so strong or so steady as we had expected, chiefly perhaps in consequence of the influence exercised by the Australian continent, the temperature of which during this, the summer season of the Southern Hemisphere, is raised to an extraordinary degree by its sandy surface, that when the air has become thus warmed, it ascends and becomes more rarefied in its lower strata, in consequence of which its elasticity becomes so great as to drive back the surrounding colder atmosphere, and only admit it to contact with the heated air at its most remote limits. This occurs the more readily, that the heated air, after it has risen to the more rarefied tracts, expands on all sides, and at a certain distance from the lower level, begins to add to the pressure of the atmosphere. In this self-acting zone of increased atmospheric pressure, the winds, however, are naturally more faint, and, to observers who happen to be on the exterior of this zone, always appear to take their rise from the further side. For this reason, probably, we fell in with easterly breezes, so long as we had the Northern portion of Australia to the eastward of us.

At any rate, the equilibrium of the air seemed to be disturbed, as we could plainly perceive from the weather and the confused sea. At last on 18th December, the heavens seemed somewhat more propitious, though the wind still continued easterly; indeed occasionally blew from the north, and frequent squalls of rain poured pitilessly down upon us. The more, however, we increased our distance from the Australian continent, that is, from all land to the eastward, the more steadily blew the south east Trade. And so we kept standing steadily forwards, till at last, on the 24th December, in 6° 4′ S. Lat., and 82° 34′ E. Long., we reached the eastern boundaries of the Trades and got into that of calms.

The heat, which thus far had spared us, began now to be most oppressive, and was felt all the more owing to the air being extraordinarily damp and dense. Frequently in the afternoon a passing shower of rain, which would sometimes completely flood the deck, would cool the air for a few fleeting moments. Occasionally indeed we had westerly and more rarely north-westerly breezes, but these were never of long duration, and were incessantly broken by rains and squalls.

And at this same season, at which in our distant Fatherland, palace and hut are decked out with unwonted attention, when golden fruits and elegant presents glitter from the green fir-branches of the Christmas Tree, all lit up with the neat little wax-tapers, when man's heart seems to overflow with cheerfulness and love of his fellow-creatures,—at this season we were languishing far from our dear ones, tormented with the intense heat, scarcely able to realize to ourselves, that at home it must now be snow and frost, while keen Boreas is whirling the snowflakes aloft, and howling a grim accompaniment the while! However, we promised ourselves the satisfaction of enjoying these pleasures at our own firesides, whereupon our recollections of home and dear friends imparted to our minds a wholesome stimulus, arising from the soul-inspiring conviction, that we too were present in their minds and hearts at this hallowed season. Nay, several of the officers of the Novara Expedition were surprised when far at sea, in the very midst of the Indian Ocean, with Christmas gifts, which thoughtful friends had many months before entrusted to the care of discreet fellow-voyagers.

After constantly struggling against calms and contrary winds, exactly at the first stroke of the New Year, at midnight of 31st December-1st January, we reached the Equator, which we were now crossing for the second time, and began the year 1858 in the Northern Hemisphere.

On this New Year's Day we had nearly had a great disaster. A lad who was coming down the shrouds fell overboard. The sea was perfectly calm and smooth, but already on the morning of this very day we had seen many sharks, those dreaded foes of man in the domain of ocean, so that the life of the unfortunate youth seemed seriously imperilled. The same instant in which the youth fell, saw a life-buoy thrown over, a boat prepared for lowering, and all usual appliances for a rescue made available. But although an excellent swimmer, he seemed to lose all presence of mind, probably through fear, and must undoubtedly have been drowned, had not the boatswain's mate, and two other sailors, leaped into the water and made all haste to his assistance. Meanwhile the boat had been got into the water, by which rescued and rescuers were got safe on board again.

A few months later, the boatswain's mate, for his gallant conduct on this occasion, received, by the express orders of His Majesty, the silver cross of merit, while the sailors were advanced one grade.

The current, which runs northward along the coast of Australia, but turns off to the westward about the tenth degree of South latitude, so as to pass southward of Ceylon, directly along the Equator to the Coast of Africa, carried us far to the westward, in consequence of which we had overcast, uncertain weather, with, for the most part, calms or light breezes. As we found ourselves approaching the fourth degree of Northern latitude, a rather fresh N.E. wind sprung up, probably the trade wind of the Northern Hemisphere, which, however, as we neared Ceylon, again died away to a calm.

At the same time, in lat. 5° 32′ N., 79° 5′ E., we fell in with a current running more than two miles an hour. We had, as it turned out, got to the westward of the roadstead of Point de Galle, in Ceylon, and found some little difficulty in making headway against the current. On 7th January, toward 3.30 p. m., land was made to the eastward, and an hour later, a Cingalese canoe was perceived making for the frigate under sail. It was the pilot boat, whose crew, having been informed by a Hamburg brig that a large ship was in sight, had put to sea to meet us.

At the first sight of this little canoe, it was hardly possible to refrain from amazement at the courage and hardihood with which the half-naked Cingalese boatmen could put off some 30 or 40 miles to sea in such a tiny, narrow boat, that barely gives them room to sit lengthwise. Two cross-bars, or outriggers, projecting on one side, where they are fastened externally to a rather massive beam, which swims parallel with the boat, gave this canoe, apparently so fragile, such stability and seaworthiness, that it is at all times not less safe than a boat of European construction.[76]