On arriving at Durazno we were most hospitably received and entertained by Mr. Ware, the engineer of the railway, under whose guidance we inspected the sights of this dilapidated country town, and then proceeded to explore the banks of the river Yi, a tributary of the Rio Negro, where a great variety of animal life was to be seen. There was here a large lagoon bordered with low bushes, a favourite haunt of the largest living rodent, the capybara or "carpincho," as the natives call it, and also largely stocked with birds. Snipe and dottrel were here so tame as to allow one to approach within a few yards of them. In the course of the day we had the good fortune to meet a Mr. Edye, an Englishman, who, during thirteen years' residence in the Plate, had acquired a considerable insight into the natural history of the country. He told us that a great variety of birds inhabit the low bushes of the "Monte" (as they call the shallow valley of the river), including three species of the cardinal, one humming bird, the calandria or South American nightingale, etc. With reference to the tucutuco (Ctenomys), he assured us, contrary to the opinion expressed by Dr. Darwin, in his "Journal of a Naturalist," as to the animals never coming to the surface, that the little rodents were commonly to be seen near their holes about the time of dusk, and that they invariably retreated to the burrows on the near approach of a human being. He considered it almost impossible to catch them, but had no doubt about their habit of coming to the surface. As we strolled along the river banks, we saw and captured a black snake about two and a half feet long, which was swimming gracefully from bank to bank, with its head elevated about two inches from the top of the water. We also got some living specimens of a river mussel, which is here used as fish bait.
Everywhere among the English-speaking community we heard the same gloomy accounts of the dulness of trade, arising from the yet unsettled state of the country. All agreed that the present Dictator was managing the country admirably, but expressed their fears that he would some day be "wiped out," as others had been before him, and that the country would again relapse into a state of anarchy and brigandage.
Some days later I had an opportunity of visiting Buenos Ayres, the capital of the Argentine Republic, situated on the opposite or south shore of the river Plate. Accompanied by Lieut. Gunn, I started from Monte Video on the evening of the 9th of December, taking passage on board one of the river-steamers (Villa de Salto), then plying daily between the two cities. The distance, 120 miles, is usually traversed at night-time, and in this arrangement sight-seers lose nothing, as, owing to the lowness of the banks and the great width of the river, the opposite shores are barely visible from a position in mid-channel. Our fellow-passengers, about eighty in number, represented Spanish, Italian, and English nationalities, and among the latter we were fortunate enough to meet two gentlemen residing in the country, to whom, as well as to the captain, a jovial, hospitable American, we were indebted for much interesting information concerning the men and manners of the country. After dinner—a long, ponderous affair—had been disposed of, a general dispersion took place, the gentlemen to smoke, and the ladies to their cabins; but in an hour or so the latter again appeared in the saloon, arrayed in evening dress of a more gay and airy character than that worn at dinner, and they now applied themselves diligently to the luxury of maté drinking. The fluid known as maté is an infusion of the leaves of the Ilex paraguayensis, commonly called Paraguay tea, and is usually sucked through metal tubes about ten inches long, from a gracefully carved globular wooden receptacle about the size of an orange. One stock of "yerba" seemed to stand a great many waterings and sugarings, the necessary manipulations for which furnished the ladies with a suitable occupation. It was amusing to watch the eagerness with which the latter sucked away at their maté tubes, the attitude reminding one of a boy using a decoy whistle.
We anchored off the town of Buenos Ayres at an early hour the next morning, and here the inefficiency of the landing arrangements were made unpleasantly manifest. Three different means of locomotion were resorted to, in order to convey us from the steamer to the shore. We were pulled in a small boat for a portion of the way; then, as the boat grounded, the rowers got out, and, wading alongside, dragged it on for a few hundred yards more. We were then transferred, with our baggage, to a high-wheeled cart, drawn by two horses, which brought us through the last quarter of a mile of shallow water fringing the shore. The cost of effecting a landing was no inconsiderable item in the expense of our trip, and was moreover one calculated to prejudice unfavourably one's first impression of Buenos Ayres.
After securing rooms at the Hotel Universal, and breakfasting at the Strangers' Club, where we were most kindly received by the secretary, Mr. Wilson, we proceeded in search of the museum, so celebrated for its collection of fossil remains of the extinct South American mammals, arranged under the direction of Dr. Burmeister. We found the learned Professor enveloped in white dust, and busily engaged in restoring with plaster of Paris the spinous process of the vertebra of one of his specimens; and on explaining the object of our visit, he kindly drew our attention to the principal objects of interest in his collection. This museum has already been fully described, and I need hardly allude to the splendid specimens which it possesses of the Glyptodon, Machairodont, Toxodon, Mylodon, and other fossils; its beautiful specimens of the Chlamydophorus retusus (a mole-like armadillo), the leathery turtle (Sphargis coriacea), the epiodon, etc. The Professor pointed with great pride to a recent specimen of armadillo, with the young one attached to its hind-quarters in a peculiar manner.
On the same day we inspected the Anthropological Museum, which is in a large building in the Plaza Victoria, opposite the old market, where we saw a fine collection of Tehuelche and Araucanian skulls, recently made by Señor Moreno in his travels through Patagonia. Among others was the skull of "Sam Slick," a son of the celebrated Casimiro, the Patagonian cacique, so well known for many years in the vicinity of Magellan Straits. We also saw a mummified specimen of a Patagonian, recently found in a cave at Punta Walichii, near the head waters of the Santa Cruz river.
In the course of the day we called upon Mr. Mulhall, the enterprising and courteous editor of the Buenos Ayrean Standard, and from him we acquired much valuable information as to the condition of the country. On taking up the Standard next morning, we found ourselves treated to an editorial notice chronicling our visit to the Argentine capital, and referring to the past and present services of H.M.S. Alert.
Coming fresh from so neat and trim a town as Monte Video, Buenos Ayres was not to be expected to impress one very favourably. It seemed, indeed, to be a great straggling town that, having arrived at a certain degree of civilization, had now for some years back considered itself entitled to rest on its laurels, and gradually fall into decay. Streets, plazas, and tramways were in a wretched state of neglect; and such were the great ruts which time and traffic had made in the streets, that baggage-carts might be seen brought to a dead lock, even in the principal thoroughfares. Buenos Ayres can boast of several fine old public buildings, among which the cathedral, with its classic front, stands pre-eminent; and although there are some fine pieces of modern architecture, such as the Bolsa, or Exchange, the latter are so stowed away among lofty houses in narrow streets, that they require to be specially looked for to be noticed at all. I must qualify the above observations by mentioning that these are the impressions of only two days' sojourn in Buenos Ayres.
Some days later, His Excellency the Governor of the Falkland Islands (Mr. Callaghan) and his wife arrived at Monte Video, en route for his seat of government; and as the sailing schooner, which was the only regular means of communication between Monte Video and the Falklands, was then crowded with passengers, the Governor gladly accepted Sir George Nares's kind invitation to take him as his guest on board the Alert.
We left Monte Video on the 14th of December, and on the 26th, amid a furious storm of wind and hail, anchored in Stanley Harbour, Falkland Islands. Here we found that the great topic of conversation was a landslip of peat, which had occurred about a month previous to our arrival, laying waste a portion of the little settlement. On the summit of a hill above the east end of the town, a circular patch of turf, about two hundred yards in diameter, had collapsed; and at the same time a broad stream, four feet high, of semi-fluid peat, flowed down the hillside to the sea, in its course sweeping away walls and gardens, and partly burying the houses. This phenomenon, occurring at night, caused great consternation among the inhabitants of such an uneventful little place; but after the people had shaken themselves together somewhat, and recovered from their surprise, they found that after all no great damage had been done. The appearance of the peat avalanche, as seen from the ship, was very peculiar, and in many respects the whole occurrence resembled a lava flow.
On the evening of our arrival, we were most hospitably entertained at Government House, where we had also the pleasure of meeting all the rank and fashion of this part of the colony.
The next day, being fine, I determined to devote to an inspection of the "stone runs," which have been rendered so famous in the geology of the Falklands by the writings of Darwin, Wyville Thompson, and others. In this excursion I was fortunate in having the assistance of Dr. Watts, the colonial surgeon, a gentleman who, from his long experience of the group, was well acquainted with all the salient points in its natural history. The "run" which we visited lay in the hollow of a winding valley, situated about two miles to the westward of the settlement of Stanley. The rocks, heaped together confusedly, formed a so-called "stone river," varying in width from fifty to two hundred yards, and extending up the valley as a single "stream" for about one mile and a half, to a point where it seemed as if originated by a confluence of tributary streams flowing from the surrounding hills. The stones, composed of quartzite, presented a roughly rounded appearance, which was seemingly due to excessive weathering; and they were so covered with lichens, as to appear of a uniform grey colour. Those which lay below the surface were of a rust colour, and, by all accounts, the upturned stones required an exposure of many years to assume the uniform grey tint of the surface layer. The margin of the "run" was distinctly defined by an abrupt edge of swampy soil, with its tangled vegetation of diddle-dee, tea-plant, and balsam bog. Now, why are the stones of the "run" so entirely destitute of soil? and why do they exhibit a margin so sharp and well defined, yet without the elevated, rounded appearance of a river bank? Sir Wyville Thompson's theory, it seems to me, falls short of explaining this. I have as yet seen too little of the country to justify me in forming a fixed opinion; but I am, so far, inclined to think that these "streams of stones" are of a date anterior to the existence of peat on the island, and that the peat has been approaching the valleys from the elevated land by growth and slippage, and in its descent has encountered difficulty in obtaining a footing in those places where the stones are large, and being heaped to a great depth, act like a gigantic drain, and so prevent any soil from forming. As far as I can ascertain, no attempt has ever been made to estimate the rate of movement (if any) of these "runs," and there is no evidence whatever of their motion during the present century. There is not sufficient land comprised by the watershed to form torrents capable of removing the dense mass of peaty soil, which, according to Sir W. Thompson's theory, would have been necessary for the transportation of the large blocks of stone that are here accumulated. The inhabitants remark, and I think with truth, that the summits of the hills and the upper slopes are as a rule more wet and boggy than the hollows below. This supports my view of the drainage being greatest in the valleys where the big stones were originally packed to a greater depth, and towards which the peat is now encroaching. It is worthy of remark that the surface of the stream is tolerably flat, and does not indicate a process of accumulation by flow from either side.
To Dr. Watts, my guide on this occasion, I was also indebted for a skin of the Falkland Island fox, an animal now almost extinct, a skull of the sea elephant, and a dried specimen of the petrel, which is known here as the "fire bird," from its habit of dashing itself against the lantern of the lighthouse, at whose base dead specimens are occasionally found.
We left the Falkland Islands on the evening of the 27th, and sailed to the westward. On the morning of the 1st of January, 1879, we entered the eastern entrance of the Straits of Magellan, passing within easy sight of Cape Virgins and Dungeness Point. As we approached the latter, we noticed a herd of guanacos browsing quietly near the beach, as if a passing ship were an object familiar to their eyes. This, our first impression of the famous Straits, was certainly favourable. A winding channel, the glassy smoothness of whose surface was only broken by the splashing of cormorants, steamer-ducks, and other sea-birds, stretched away to the westward. On the north side were the low undulating plains of Patagonia, covered with their summer mantle of greenish-yellow vegetation; while to the southward a few widely separated wreaths of blue smoke, ascending from the gloomy shores of Tierra del Fuego, marked out the dwelling-place of one of the most remarkable varieties of the human species. Favoured by the tide, we passed rapidly through the first Narrows, and at 6.30 in the evening had got as far as Cape Gregory. Here the flood-tide setting strongly to the westward, fairly brought us to a standstill, so we steamed in towards the north shore, and anchored close under Cape Gregory. A party of us who were bent on exploring soon landed, and proceeded in various directions in quest of game, and in the few remaining hours of daylight we succeeded in getting several ducks, some small birds, and a young fox. The ground was for the most part covered with a sort of rank grass, through which bushes of the Berberry, Empetrum rubrum, and Myrtus nummularia, grew luxuriantly. A very pretty dwarf calceolaria was also abundant. The only quadruped seen was a fox, but the tucutucos (Ctenomys) must have been very numerous, for the ground was riddled in all directions by their burrows. Some of our party, who strolled along the beach towards Gregory Bay, found a small settlement of Frenchmen, who, it seemed, had recently come out here to try their hands at farming. After our arrival on board, one of the men brought me a specimen of a Myxine, which had come up on his fishing line, not attached to the hook, but adhering by its viscid secretion to the line at some distance above the hook. Of this curious fish I subsequently obtained many specimens in the western Patagonian channels.
We got under way again before daylight, and about eight in the morning we arrived at Sandy Point. This interesting little Chilian settlement was established in the year 1843, and although a great portion of it was burnt to the ground during the mutiny of 1877, it yet shows signs of ultimately becoming a place of considerable importance. Great credit is due to the Chilian Government for their perseverance in maintaining a settlement in this wild region, notwithstanding the sad fate of the colony which was established by Sarmiento in 1580, at a bay to the westward of Sandy Point, which he named "Bahia de la Gente." On Sarmiento's return, eight years subsequently, it was discovered that nearly all the colonists had perished of starvation. That bay has since been called Port Famine. Of late years the Straits of Magellan have been largely availed of by men-of-war and merchant-steamers. Two lines of mail-steamers, viz., the P.S.N.C. and the Kosmos line, now run bi-monthly through the Straits; and as all these vessels touch regularly at Sandy Point, the colonists are kept in frequent communication with the rest of the civilized world. For some years after its foundation the population consisted mainly of convicts, undergoing penal servitude, who were kept in control by a small garrison; but since the mutiny of November 1877, the importation of convicts has ceased, and as a consequence labour has become scarce. At the time of our visit there were 1,100 inhabitants, including the garrison, which now consists of 120 men, rank and file, all of whom are armed with the Winchester repeating rifle.
The country possesses at least two great sources of mineral wealth, viz., gold and coal. When the coal mines were first established, sanguine ideas were entertained of their successful working. But commercial difficulties arose. The company who were working the mines became involved in a lawsuit, which, whatever may have been the rights of the case, has at all events put a stop to mining operations; and at the time of our visit the railway leading to the mine seemed to be going to decay; and the rolling stock, in a disjointed state, scattered about the wharf and line, testified to the stagnant condition of affairs.
I was here fortunate in finding a friend in the Government (Chilian) surgeon of the settlement—Dr. Fenton—with whose assistance and guidance I made some pleasant trips into the country adjoining Sandy Point. On our first day there he kindly provided horses, and took me for a ride into the forest, to the end of the settlement. There I saw for the first time the evergreen and deciduous beeches, the winter's bark as well as the berberry, diddle-dee, and other plants, of which we saw a great deal subsequently, during our Patagonian surveys. As we crossed a flat dreary plain which lay between the margin of the forest and the sea coast, we encountered a great number of very bold hawks, which alighted on the big thistles near our bridle path, and coolly stared at us as we went by. We also saw flocks of Bandurria, a species of black and white ibis, which is common in these parts, but being sought after by the Chilians as an article of food, has naturally become distrustful of the ways of man, and is difficult to approach. On returning to the settlement, we found some excitement prevailing, for two of the inhabitants had just been drowned by the capsizing of a boat near the landing-place. With southerly winds, heavy rollers break along the beach; and as there is no protection in the shape of a breakwater (for boats), communication with the shore is dangerous while these winds continue. It appeared that a party of five were returning from a hulk in the roadstead, where an auction was being held, and on nearing the shore the boat got broadside on to the rollers, and capsized. Two were drowned. The other three narrowly escaped a similar fate, and owed their preservation to the gallant conduct of two of our bluejackets, who, happening to be on shore near the scene of the disaster, plunged boldly in at the risk of their lives, and brought the survivors to land.
On the following day two of us rode along the shore to the southward of the town for a distance of about six miles, when we struck into the woods, following a cart track which led us to a sawmill in the heart of the forest, belonging to Mr. Dunsmuir, the British Vice-consul. Here we shot a small owl, specimens of the Magellan thrush, and a diminutive bird of a general black colour, with a rusty-red collar, the Centrites niger. The beach was in places covered with dense clusters of mussels, and strewn with the dead shells of Volutes, Arcas, and Patellas, the tests of crabs, and the calcareous remains of a small Cidaris. We were greatly struck with the sagacity of our little horses—requiring little or no management, going for the most part at an easy canter, and climbing over logs, trunks of fallen trees, and banks, with the agility of goats. On our dismounting, and leaving the bridles trailing on the ground, they remained quite patiently, without showing the least inclination to make off, although we several times discharged our guns close to their heads.
We left Sandy Point on the afternoon of the 4th, and proceeded under steam to Peckett Harbour, an anchorage about twenty-five miles to the north-east of the colony. Arriving about four p.m., all of us who could, landed, and set off in pursuit of game. Even here, so little to the eastward of Sandy Point, the aspect of the country was completely different. The land was entirely devoid of trees, and the only plants of any size were the barberry and balsam bog, the latter growing as luxuriantly as at the Falklands. Walking was laborious, for the ground was everywhere riddled with the burrows of the tucutuco, a curious rodent (Ctenomys), which the Chilians call carouru. There was a fresh breeze blowing, and the birds were consequently very wild, and by no means numerous. We obtained specimens of the crested duck (Anas cristata), upland goose (Chloephaga magellanica), grebe, plover, soldier starling, snipe, sandpiper, and Centrites niger. The tucutucos here evidently differ in their habits from those described by Mr. Darwin, for they come out of their burrows occasionally (I believe at dusk), and one was caught by Lieut. Vereker, and given to me.
The next day we were again under way, and having taken on board some horses belonging to Mr. Dunsmuir, the British Vice-consul of Sandy Point, proceeded towards Elizabeth Island, a few miles off. This island has recently been rented from the Chilian Government by Mr. Dunsmuir, and proves of value for stock farming. Tucutucos have not yet succeeded in reaching it, a matter of no small importance as regards the value of the land, for their mining operations are almost ruinous to the pasturage. The island is about six miles long and four miles broad, and consists of an elevated plateau of undulating grass-land, terminating at its margin in cliffs three hundred feet high, which front the sea. Mr. Dunsmuir has stocked it with four hundred sheep, who are left usually in charge of a shepherd and his family; and he has also, for commercial purposes, adopted measures for the protection of the upland geese, which breed in large numbers on the island. The object of our visit was to bring over for him some horses, which were required for the working of the island. As we steamed round its eastern end, myriads of terns rose in a cloud from the low sandy pits, where they had their breeding place.
After getting out the horses, and letting them swim on shore, we dropped our anchor, and soon afterwards many of us landed to explore. It was the breeding time of the upland geese, and the birds were consequently very tame, and afforded little sport in shooting. Along the beach below the cliffs a variety of birds were to be seen, including oyster-catchers, steamer-ducks, and a species of Cinclodes. As I walked by the foot of the cliffs, a steamer-duck would occasionally rush out from its retreat, and make for the water, cackling vigorously as it waddled over the shingle. As these birds steamed out seaward, they seemed undoubtedly to flap their wings in unison; but there was a sort of wabble in their swimming motion, arising probably from the alternate paddling of the feet. On the heights above, I shot several military starlings, and others of our party obtained some brown ducks (Anas cristata) and snipe.
The cliff was apparently breaking away in many places, exposing fresh sections of its face, and exhibiting pebbles, rounded stones, and rocks imbedded in the clayey mass, a feature which is characteristic of this part of the coast. Lines of stratification, of varying degrees of fineness, were to be seen; and in several places, at about fifty feet from the summit of the cliff, streams of water oozed out from the seams. I could detect no trace of a fossil. Along the beach lay many dead shells of the genera Voluta, Arca, Patella, Mytilus, and Trophon. During this walk I noticed about six different species of butterflies and a few beetles.
The dredge had been laid out from the ship on anchoring, so that it might profit by the swinging of the ship; and when we hauled it up in the evening, it contained a quantity of dead barnacles covered with ophiurids, and also shells of the genera Trochus and Trophon, Amphipod Crustaceans, Annelids, and some red, jelly-like Gephyreans. These were all entangled in a mass of red seaweed, interlaced with stalks of the Macrocystis.
Early next morning (January 7th) we steamed back to Sandy Point. As we approached the anchorage, we noticed dense clouds of smoke rising from the woods some distance inland, and it soon transpired that the forest in the vicinity of the Consul's sawmills was on fire. In the afternoon I rode out with Dr. Fenton to the scene, and we found the troops of the garrison employed in felling trees, so as to make a sort of lane through the woods to leeward of the fire, in order, if possible, to limit its ravages. Dr. Fenton afterwards came on board, and gave us an interesting account of the mutiny of 1877, in which he and his wife narrowly escaped being shot. His house, like most others, was burnt down on that occasion. Sixty of the peaceable inhabitants were shot by the mutineers, and nine of the latter were subsequently executed. Those of the population who escaped had fled to the woods, and there fortified themselves against an attack. Eventually the mutiny was quelled by the arrival of the Chilian gunboat Magellanes, at whose approach the mutineers fled away into the pampas.
At two o'clock in the afternoon of the following day we weighed anchor and proceeded to the westward. We had scarcely left Sandy Point a few miles behind us, when the character of the scenery underwent a marked change. The straits narrowed, its shores rose in lofty hills, whose lightly inclined slopes were clothed with forest from the summits to the water's edge, and we exchanged the clear blue sky of Patagonia for an atmosphere of mists and rain squalls. As we passed by Port Famine, two Fuegian canoes pulled off to us from the southern shores, the natives hailing us vociferously for "galleta tabac" (biscuit and tobacco). However, we could not spare time to interview them, and they turned back disappointed, and moreover evidencing signs of indignation. When abreast of Borja Bay, we experienced such a succession of heavy squalls from the westward, that we were compelled to put in for shelter, and accordingly anchored. On landing, we found the trees placarded in various places with wooden records of ships that had called there; and on pushing our way through the bushes adjoining the beach, we were not a little surprised at stumbling across a coffin, which from its position seemed to have been hurriedly deposited there by a passing ship. It bore an inscription stating that it contained the remains of some person who had belonged to the Chilian man-of-war Almirante Cochrane. Animal life was at a discount; only a few moths, a Cinclodes, a brace of duck, and a few gulls being seen. The vegetation was luxuriant, and the Philesia, berberry, and diddle-dee plants were in full bloom. We stopped for only a few hours; for on the wind lulling we again proceeded on our course. Passing through the "Long Reach," the scenery became of a most imposing character; several straggling, highly inclined glaciers creeping down on either side through the deep mountain gorges, their dazzling whiteness contrasting strikingly with the richly verdured hillsides, and the lofty snow-covered mountain summits beyond fading away imperceptibly into a hazy sky. Later in the evening we anchored in Playa Parda Cove, a beautiful little land-locked basin, and most of us landed at once, to spend the last few remaining hours of daylight. A solitary steamer-duck was seen, but for the rest animal life was unrepresented. As at Borja Bay, several little billets of wood, attached conspicuously to trees bordering the shore, recorded the visits of previous explorers to these outlandish regions.
On the morning of the 10th we left Playa Parda, and steamed northward through the Sarmiento Channels. In the afternoon, as we were passing by Fortune Bay, we sighted and exchanged signals with the Chilian man-of-war Chacabuco, a vessel which was now employed in surveying certain portions of the Straits. Our halting-place for this evening was at Isthmus Bay, where we anchored about six p.m. At the head of this bay, where a narrow neck of lowland separated us from the waters of Oracion Sound, was the remains of a Fuegian encampment, which, to judge from the appearance of the shell heaps, could not have been left for more than a year uninhabited. Across the isthmus was a "portage" for boats, consisting of rudely-cut stakes laid on the ground parallel to each other, and a few yards apart, like railway sleepers. The aspect of the green forest encircling this charming little bay was variegated with a luxuriant display of really beautiful flowers, among which were conspicuous the Philesia buxifolia, Fuchsia magellanica, Gaultheria antarctica, Berberis ilicifolia, and a number of composites of different species. A kind of cedar, the Libocedrus tetragonus ("cipres" of the Chilotes), was here also very abundant, furnishing good straight poles suitable for various purposes. Its four-sided arrangement of leaves at once attracts attention.
We got under way early in the morning, and proceeded up the Sarmiento Channels, passing by the Chilian ship Chacabuco in the midst of a rain squall. No natives were to be seen. The channel here narrowed, and the scenery of the opposing shores became of a grand yet rather sombre character, the round-topped granite mountains which seemed to overhang us, with their streaky patches of forest creeping up the gullies, being enveloped in a hazy mist, and presenting a sort of draggled appearance, as if rain had been falling over their rocky faces for ages.
About five in the evening we entered Mayne Harbour, a few cormorants and steamer-ducks sheering off with much splashing, as we slipped between the islets that almost block up the entrance.
So we continued to wend our way through these desolate channels, looking into nearly every anchorage on the way, and usually anchoring for the night, until the 14th of January, when we reached "Tom Bay," which was to be our base of operations for the ensuing survey of the Trinidad Channel. Some hours after we had anchored, a native boat suddenly emerged from a narrow channel opening into the bay, and paddled towards the ship, displaying a green branch in the bows of the boat, while one individual standing up waved a small white cloth, no doubt intended as a flag of truce. Our people on board made amicable demonstrations in response, by waving handkerchiefs and so forth, and then slowly and warily the natives approached. This was our first experience of representatives of the Channel tribe of Fuegians. There were altogether eight of them. But I must not omit to mention the dogs, five in number, as the latter formed by far the most respectable portion of the community; for it would indeed be difficult to imagine a more diabolical cast of countenance than that presented by these savages. Their clothing consisted of a squarish scrap of sealskin looped round the neck, sometimes hanging over the back, sometimes resting on the shoulders, but apparently worn more by way of ornament than for any protection which it afforded; and a very narrow waistcloth, which simple garment was sometimes deemed superfluous. An elderly lady of a saturnine cast of countenance sat on a wisp of grass in the stern of the canoe, and manœuvred the steering oar. They could not be induced to come on board the ship, and from their guarded demeanour would seem to have had rather unfavourable experiences of civilized man. After bartering their bits of seal and other skins, and getting some biscuit, tobacco, and knives, they paddled away, and established themselves on an islet about half a mile from the ship, where we saw that the skeleton frameworks of some old huts were standing.
On the following day a small party, consisting of North (the paymaster), three seamen, and myself, pulled over to the native camp. We were received on landing by four men with bludgeons in their hands, who did not seem at all glad to see us, and who seemed apprehensive of our approaching the hut, where the women had been jealously shut up. However, by a few presents of tobacco and biscuit, we established tolerably amicable relations, and were permitted to examine the canoe, which lay hauled half out of the water. It was composed of five planks, of which one, about twenty feet long and two and a half feet wide, formed the bottom, while the other four, each one and a half foot in width, formed the sides. The bottom plank was turned up at the ends, so as to form a flat bow and stern of nearly similar shape; and to this plank, as well as to each other, the side pieces were secured by a lacing passed through rude square shaped holes about an inch in area, which were made in an even row close to the edges of the planks. The lacing used for this purpose is the tough stem of a bignoniaceous creeper (the Campsidium chilense), which is commonly seen twining round the tall forest trees, forming festoons from branch to branch, and again extending from the horizontal branches vertically downwards like the cordage of a ship. Caulking was effected by stuffing the seams with moss and strips of the winter's bark (bark of the Drimys winteri), over which the lacing was carried; and the square-shaped holes were plugged with some pulpy vegetable matter, of which moss seemed to be the chief constituent. The oars were made of young stems of the Libocedrus tetragonus, to one end of which elliptical pieces of wood were lashed by way of blades. These oars were used in the ordinary way, the loom resting on crescentic-shaped crutches, fashioned out of a single piece of wood, and lashed to the gunwale. The everlasting Fuegian fire, from which Tierra del Fuego derives its name, burned in the middle of the boat, resting on a bed of clay; and the half-decomposed head of a seal, which either the natives or the dogs had recently been gnawing, completed the furniture of this crazy vessel. The hut in which the women were shut up was a haycock-shaped arrangement, composed of a skeleton framework of boughs, over which were thrown several old skins of the sea lion (Otaria jubata). The chief of this party, who was, by the way, the tallest Fuegian ever seen by us, we found by measurement to be five feet four inches in height. One hut accommodated the entire party, consisting, as I have said, of four men, four women, and five dogs.
The greater part of the subsequent four months was spent in the vicinity of the Trinidad Channel, which it was our special duty to survey; and as our movements during this period were most erratic, and we frequently paid five or six different visits to the same parts, I shall for a time abandon all chronological order, and speak of events according to the places in which they occurred.
But in the first place, in order to render my narrative more intelligible, I shall here give a brief general description of this region, referring to its climate, natural features, and inhabitants.
The weather is peculiar, for the rainfall is excessive, and as a rule there is not more than one moderately dry day out of the seven.
The peaks and ridges of the broken-up range of mountains, of which the islands and coast are formed, intercept the moisture-laden clouds which are being continually wafted from seaward by the prevailing westerly winds, frequent and long-continued downpours being the result. From observations taken with the rain gauge, we estimate the average daily rainfall to be 0·41 inch, and that of the wettest month of which we have had experience, viz., the month of April, 0·522 inch. The annual rainfall, estimated from the mean of eight months' observations, we find to be 149·65 inches. The mean annual temperature, estimated similarly from observations extending over the months of January, February, March, April, May, (nine days of) October, November, and December, we found to be 49·2, the extremes of temperature being 36° and 60°. When we reflect that the annual rainfall in London is about 23·5 inches, while the yearly average of temperature is 46·9 Fahr., we can realize the extent to which rainy weather prevails in this land, and the comparative coldness of its nevertheless equable climate. We were told by the master of a sealing schooner that the climate of Western Fuegia varied but little throughout the year, and that in his opinion the finest weather was to be found in mid-winter; and, indeed, on entering the channels in the month of October—that is, in the early spring—we ourselves found the appearance of the country but little different from our recollections of the previous midsummer. There was, perhaps, more snow on the hill-tops, but there was none at all on the lower slopes of the hills, and the evergreen vegetation seemed almost as luxuriant as during midsummer.
As might be expected from the large rainfall and comparatively equable temperature, this climate is very favourable to the growth of cryptogamous plants; ferns, mosses, and Hepaticæ abound, clothing the stems of dead and living trees, and occupying every shady nook and crevice. Among the ferns most commonly seen were several beautiful species of the genus Hymenophyllum. Of flowering plants there were also some of great beauty, the most attractive of which were the Philesia buxifolia, the Desfontainea hookeri, the Berberis ilicifolia, the B. empetrifolia, and the Embothrium coccineum. The former is a sort of under-shrub, of creeping habit, and is most commonly seen twining round the stem of the evergreen and antarctic beeches, to a height of six or eight feet from the ground, its lovely, rose-coloured, bell-shaped flowers showing to great advantage against the delicate background of ferns and mosses, which, growing from the bark of the tree, display the flowers, but almost conceal the branches of the twining Philesia. There is another beautiful plant, of the same natural order, met with in Southern Chili, which the people take great pride in, showing to strangers as the glory of their gardens. It is called the "Copigue" (Lapageria rosea). The only trees which attain to any reasonable size as such are the evergreen and antarctic beeches (Fagus antarctica and F. betuloides), the winter's bark (Drimys winteri), and the cypress (Libocedrus tetragonus). The bark of the Drimys winteri was formerly employed in medicine, but has latterly fallen into disuse, partly from the difficulty of obtaining the genuine article in Europe. It has tonic and stimulant properties. The infusion of the dried bark is so hot and peppery as to burn the tongue and throat; but, strangely enough, the spirit tincture extracts the tonic bitter with but very little of the peppery principle.
The summits of the low hills, which are usually bare of trees or brushwood, are covered with a sort of swamp formed of astelias, gaimardias, and calthas, whose interlacing roots form a more or less compact sod, which, as one walks on it, shakes from the fluctuation of the bog water beneath.
The rock of the district is a cross-grained syenite, intersected with dykes of greenstone, of very variable thickness. This is the prevalent rock; but about Port Rosario, on the north side of "Madre de Dios" island, there is an outcrop of limestone. The latter is of a pale-blue colour, in some cases assuming the character of marble; and when much exposed to the weather, presents a curious honeycombed appearance, due to the solvent action of the rain. This rock is unfossiliferous. The disintegration of the syenite from the usual atmospheric agencies is rapid enough; but the resulting detritus does not contribute to form a good clay.
If an artificial section be made of the soilcap, or if advantage be taken of a landslip to examine it carefully, it will be seen to be composed of a dense network of interlacing roots, containing in its interstices a small quantity of black mould, the latter increasing in proportion as the basement rock is reached. This spongy mass of tangled vegetation, ever saturated with moisture, is the soil on which the trees clothing the hillsides take root. On the little plateaus about the hill-tops, however, it only contains the roots of the marsh plants above mentioned, and those of an odd stunted bush. On first coming to this region, I was much struck on seeing that the forest approaches so close to the water's edge, and that the banks overhang so much that frequently the branches of the trees dip into the salt water; and in some places a black snag projecting above the surface of the inshore water tells the fate of a tree that had perished from immersion. These phenomena, among others to be hereafter alluded to, are, I think, to be attributed to a slow but steady sliding motion of the soilcap over its rocky foundation on the sloping hillsides, a motion which is in many respects analogous to the flow of a glacier.
Of the natives inhabiting the Patagonian channels between the Gulf of Peñas and Smyth's channels, very little is known; and I am the more inclined to attempt a description of their physical characteristics and habits of life, because of all the savage tribes of whom I have had experience—including the Australian aborigines, who are generally credited with being of the lowest order—I believe that the people whom I am about to describe bear away the palm as the most primitive among all the varieties of the human species. They are certainly closely related to the Fuegians who live south of the main Straits of Magellan, from whom, however, they differ sufficiently to show a tribal distinction. Fitzroy, in enumerating six tribes of Fuegians, denominates those of whom I speak as "the Channel or Chonos tribe." They lead a wandering life, constantly shifting in their canoes from place to place, and travelling in families of about twelve individuals, all of whom stow in the same canoe, and sleep in the same hut. We have never been able to ascertain the precise relationship existing between the different members of these families; but a party of twelve would probably consist of three men, five women, and four children.
For the greater part of the year they live almost entirely on mussels and limpets, this simple fare being only varied occasionally by the capture of a seal, a small otter, or of an equally small coypu. That they get this kind of fresh meat but rarely is evident from our inspection of their midden heaps, hillocks of refuse in the vicinity of the huts, consisting mainly of shells. I must not omit to mention, however, that bones of the steamer-duck and cormorant are also found about the huts, but not in any quantity. During the months of December and January, the Magellan seals "haul up" to breed on the rocks of the outer coasts, and during this season there is a great gathering of natives about the "rookeries," as the sealers call them, so that for a short portion of the year these unfortunate wretches can luxuriate upon a diet of fresh meat.
They are of low stature, the men averaging 5 ft. 1 in. in height, while the women are still shorter. Of eight men whom I measured carefully, the extremes were 4 ft. 10 in. and 5 ft. 3 in.; so that there is a strong contrast between them and their neighbours in the same latitude, the Patagonians, whose average stature (I speak of the men only) is 5 ft. 10 in. Their complexion is of an ochrey copper colour; the eyes are dark, and placed close together; the upper eyelid curving downwards abruptly as it approaches the nasal side, or inner canthus, in such a way as to give an appearance of obliquity in the eye, which reminds one of that feature in the face of a Japanese. The sclerotics, or so-called "white" of the eye, have a yellow tinge, and in the adults the conjunctiva is injected or bloodshot, probably from their habit of sitting over a smoky wood fire. The upper lip is thin and curved; and when a grimace is made, it tightly embraces the teeth, so as to communicate a peculiarly wicked expression to the countenance. The maxillæ are broad, and the teeth are of glistening whiteness. In the female the front teeth present an even regular line; but in the male adult there is usually a front tooth missing, as if knocked out designedly. The hair is long, black, and coarse, and is peculiar in growing sometimes from the temples, as well as from the scalp, a circumstance from which the forehead acquires a narrow pyramidal appearance. There are no whiskers, but on the lips and chin a few scattered hairs are seen. The upper extremities and trunk are well formed, but the legs are very poorly developed, so much so as to seem out of proportion to the rest of the body. The skin overlying the kneecaps is particularly loose, baggy, and wrinkled when the native stands erect, a circumstance which, in the case of the southern Fuegian, is very justly attributed (vide Voyage of Adventure and Beagle, p. 176) to the practice of frequently sitting on the heels, with the legs flexed to a maximum.
Some of the emotions are expressed by very decided contortions of the features and limbs. Delight, when intense, is shown by a display of the closed teeth, accompanied by a clucking sound, and a curious up and down bobbing motion of the body. Eagerness is expressed by a clucking sound and a frothing of the lips. Anger is characterised by a tightening of the upper lip, a protrusion of the lower jaw or mandible, and a slight display of the upper incisors.
The men are almost entirely naked, sometimes wearing a square piece of sealskin suspended from the neck, and hanging over either shoulder. This seems to be intended as a sort of weather screen; but, strangely enough, it is one of the first things parted with when a chance of bartering occurs. Although so careless about protecting their bodies against the rigour of the weather, it was nevertheless evident that they were keenly sensible to the cold; for they were frequently to be seen with their teeth chattering, and trembling from head to foot, as the rain, wind, and spray swept over their unprotected skins. The women generally have a large skin mantle, which they wear with the hair turned outwards. Those with infants carry the child in a pouch between the shoulders; but those not so burdened readily part with their only covering for a plug of tobacco. That these people should attach any value to tobacco is difficult to understand; for not only are they unprovided with native pipes in which to smoke it, but, as far as we could judge, they had never enjoyed sufficient opportunities of doing so to render the process anything but highly unpleasant, although its anticipation undoubtedly afforded them great pleasure. In fact, one or two whiffs of smoke were sufficient to put a man into the nauseated and giddy condition familiar to every schoolboy when he makes his first trial of tobacco.
Although the dress of the women is, as I have mentioned, far from elaborate, they otherwise evinced the usual love of their sex for articles intended to be ornamental. They commonly wore round their throats necklaces composed of margarita shells, porpoise teeth, or fragments of calcareous worm-tubes, strung together. Their faces, as well as those of the men, were sometimes daubed with black charcoal, and sometimes with a paste composed of white wood-ashes, but with what precise object we did not ascertain.