Set out to land Matthews and the Fuegians--Their meeting with
Natives--Supposed Volcano--Dream--Oens-men--Scene--Arrival at
Woollȳa--Encampment--Concourse of Natives--Jemmy’s Family--Wigwams
--Gardens--Distrust--Experiment--Westward Exploration--Remove
Matthews--Revisit Woollȳa--Gale--Sail for the Falkland Islands.
At the end of Chapter VI., I described our preparations for landing
the Fuegians, who had been in England, among their own countrymen;
and now, having attempted to give a fuller idea of those people, the
narrative of our proceedings shall be continued.
Jan. 19, 1833. The yawl, being heavily laden, was towed by the other
three boats, and, while her sails were set, went almost as fast as
they did; but after passing Cape Rees, and altering our course to
the westward, we were obliged to drag her along by strength of arm
against wind and current. The first day no natives were seen, though
we passed along thirty miles of coast, and reached Cutfinger Cove.
(This name was given because one of our party, Robinson by name,
almost deprived himself of two fingers by an axe slipping with which
he was cutting wood.) At this place, or rather from a hill above it,
the view was striking. Close to us was a mass of very lofty heights,
shutting out the cold southerly winds, and collecting a few rays of
sunshine which contrived to struggle through the frequent clouds of
Tierra del Fuego. Opposite, beyond a deep arm of the sea, five miles
wide, appeared an extensive range of mountains, whose extremes the
eye could not trace; and to the westward we saw an immense canal,
looking like a work of gigantic art, extending between parallel
ranges of mountains, of which the summits were capped with snow,
though their sides were covered by endless forests. This singular
canal-like passage is almost straight and of nearly an uniform width
(overlooking minute details) for one hundred and twenty miles.
20th. We passed the clay cliffs, spoken of in the former volume,
first visited by Mr. Murray. They narrow the channel to less than
a mile, but, being low, were beneath the horizon of our eye at
Cutfinger Cove:--westward of them the channel widens again to its
usual breadth of two miles. Several natives were seen in this day’s
pull; but as Jemmy told us they were not his friends, and often made
war upon his people, we held very little intercourse with them. York
laughed heartily at the first we saw, calling them large monkeys;
and Jemmy assured us they were not at all like his people, who were
very good and very clean. Fuegia was shocked and ashamed; she hid
herself, and would not look at them a second time. It was interesting
to observe the change which three years only had made in their ideas,
and to notice how completely they had forgotten the appearance and
habits of their former associates; for it turned out that Jemmy’s own
tribe was as inferior in every way as the worst of those whom he and
York called “monkeys--dirty--fools--not men.”
We gave these ‘Yapoos,’ as York called them, some presents, and
crossed over to the north side of the channel to be free from their
importunities; but they followed us speedily, and obliged us to go on
further westward than was at all agreeable, considering the labour
required to make way against a breeze and a tide of a mile an hour.
When we at last landed to pass the night, we found that the forests
on the sides of the mountains had been burned for many leagues; and
as we were not far from the place where a volcano was supposed to
exist, in consequence of flames having been seen by a ship passing
Cape Horn, it occurred to me that some conflagration, like that of
which we found the signs, might have caused appearances resembling
the eruption of a distant volcano: and I have since been confirmed in
this idea, from having witnessed a volcano in eruption; and, not long
afterwards, a conflagration, devouring many miles of mountain forest;
both of which, at a distance, shewed lines of fire, fitful flashes,
and sudden gleams. Persons who have witnessed a forest burning on
the side of a mountain, will easily perceive how, when seen from a
distance, it may resemble the eruption of a volcano; but to those
who have not seen fire on such a scale, I may remark that each gust
of wind, or temporary calm; each thick wood, or comparatively barren
space; augments or deadens the flames so suddenly, as the fire sweeps
along the mountain side, that, at a distance of fifty miles or more,
the deception may be complete.
22d. Favoured by beautiful weather, we passed along a tract of
country where no natives were seen. Jemmy told us it was “land
between bad people and his friends;” (neutral-ground probably). This
evening we reached a cove near the Murray Narrow; and from a small
party of Tekeenica natives, Jemmy’s friends, whom we found there,
he heard of his mother and brothers, but found that his father was
dead. Poor Jemmy looked very grave and mysterious at the news, but
showed no other symptom of sorrow. He reminded Bennett[1] of the
dream (related in the previous chapter), and then went for some green
branches, which he burned, watching them with a solemn look: after
which he talked and laughed as usual, never once, of his own accord,
recurring to the subject of his father’s decease. The language of
this small party, who were the first of Jemmy’s own tribe whom we
met, seemed softer and less guttural than those of the “bad men”
whom we had passed near the clay cliffs; and the people themselves
seemed much better disposed, though as abject and degraded in outward
appearance as any Fuegians I had ever seen. There were three men and
two women: when first we were seen they all ran away, but upon two
of our party landing and advancing quietly, the men returned and
were soon at their ease. Jemmy and York then tried to speak to them;
but to our surprise, and much to my sorrow, we found that Jemmy had
almost forgotten his native language, and that, of the two, York,
although belonging to another tribe, was rather the best interpreter.
In a few minutes the natives comprehended that we should do them no
harm; and they then called back their women, who were hiding in the
woods, and established themselves, very confidently, in a wigwam
within a hundred yards of our tents. During this and the preceding
day, we found the weather, by comparison, so mild, even warm, that
several of our party bathed; yet the thermometer ranged only to 53°
in the shade, and at night fell to 40°. The temperature of the sea
was 48°.
Being within a few hours’ pull (row) of Jemmy’s ‘own land,’ which he
called Woollȳa, we all felt eager, though anxious, and I was much
gratified by seeing that Matthews still looked at his hazardous
undertaking as steadily as ever, betraying no symptom of hesitation.
The attentions which York paid to his intended wife, Fuegia, afforded
much amusement to our party. He had long shewn himself attached to
her, and had gradually become excessively jealous of her good-will.
If any one spoke to her, he watched every word; if he was not
sitting by her side, he grumbled sulkily; but if he was accidentally
separated, and obliged to go in a different boat, his behaviour
became sullen and morose. This evening he was quizzed so much about
her that he became seriously angry, and I was obliged to interpose to
prevent a quarrel between him and one of his steadiest friends.
On this and previous evenings, as we sat round the blazing piles,
which our men seemed to think could never be large enough, we heard
many long stories from Jemmy about the Oens, or Coin men, who live
beyond the mountains at the north side of the Beagle Channel, and
almost every year make desperate inroads upon the Tekeenica tribe,
carrying off women and children, dogs, arrows, spears, and canoes;
and killing the men whom they succeed in making prisoners. He told us
that these Oens-men made their annual excursions at the time of ‘red
leaf;’ that is in April or May, when the leaves of deciduous trees
are changing colour and beginning to fall; just the time of year also
when the mountains are least difficult to pass.
At that period these invaders sometimes come down to the shores of
the Beagle Channel in parties of from fifty to a hundred; seize upon
canoes belonging to the Yapoo division of the Tekeenica tribe, cross
over to Navarin Island, and thence sometimes to others, driving the
smaller and much inferior Tekeenica people before them in every
direction. By Jemmy’s own account, however, there are hard battles
sometimes, and the Oens tribe lose men; but as they always contrive
to carry away their dead, it seems that the advantage of strength is
on their side.
These periodical invasions of a tribe whose abode is in the
north-eastern quarter of Tierra del Fuego are not to be confounded
with the frequent disputes and skirmishes which take place between
the two Tekeenica tribes; and it is interesting to compare what we
thus heard with the account obtained by Oliver Van Noort in 1589: who
learnt that the people lived in caves dug in the earth,[2] and that
there were five tribes--four of ordinary stature and one of gigantic
size. These giants, called Tiremenen, lived in ‘Coin.’ The other
tribes were called Enoo, Kemenites, Karaike, and Kenneka.
23d. While embarking our tents and cooking utensils, several natives
came running over the hills towards us, breathless with haste,
perspiring violently, and bleeding at the nose. Startled at their
appearance, we thought they had been fighting; but it appeared in a
few moments, that having heard of our arrival, they lost not a moment
in hurrying across the hills from a place near Woollȳa, and that the
bloody noses which had surprised us were caused by the exertion of
running. This effect has been noticed among the New Hollanders, I
believe the islanders of the Pacific Ocean, as well as the Esquimaux,
and probably others; but to our party it was then a novelty, and
rather alarming.
Scarcely had we stowed the boats and embarked, before canoes began
to appear in every direction, in each of which was a stentor hailing
us at the top of his voice. Faint sounds of deep voices were heard
in the distance, and around us echoes to the shouts of our nearer
friends began to reverberate, and warned me to hasten away before our
movements should become impeded by the number of canoes which I knew
would soon throng around us. Although now among natives who seemed
to be friendly, and to whom Jemmy and York contrived to explain the
motives of our visit, it was still highly necessary to be on our
guard. Of those men and boys who ran over the hills to us, all were
of Jemmy’s tribe excepting one man, whom he called an Oens-man; but
it was evident, from his own description, that the man belonged to
the Yapoo, or eastern Tekeenica tribe, and was living in safety among
his usual enemies, as a hostage for the security of a man belonging
to Jemmy’s tribe who was staying among the eastern people.
As we steered out of the cove in which our boats had been sheltered,
a striking scene opened: beyond a lake-like expanse of deep blue
water, mountains rose abruptly to a great height, and on their icy
summits the sun’s early rays glittered as if on a mirror. Immediately
round us were mountainous eminences, and dark cliffy precipices which
cast a very deep shadow over the still water beneath them. In the
distant west, an opening appeared where no land could be seen; and
to the south was a cheerful sunny woodland, sloping gradually down
to the Murray Narrow, at that moment almost undistinguishable. As
our boats became visible to the natives, who were eagerly paddling
towards the cove from every direction, hoarse shouts arose, and,
echoed about by the cliffs, seemed to be a continual cheer. In a
very short time there were thirty or forty canoes in our train, each
full of natives, each with a column of blue smoke rising from the
fire amidships, and almost all the men in them shouting at the full
power of their deep sonorous voices. As we pursued a winding course
around the bases of high rocks or between islets covered with wood,
continual additions were made to our attendants; and the day being
very fine, without a breeze to ruffle the water, it was a scene
which carried one’s thoughts to the South Sea Islands, but in Tierra
del Fuego almost appeared like a dream. After a few hours (pulling
hard to keep a-head of our train) we reached Woollȳa, and selected a
clear space favourably situated for our encampment, landed, marked a
boundary-line, placed sentries, and made the various arrangements
necessary for receiving the anticipated visits of some hundred
natives. We had time to do all this quietly, as our boats had
distanced their pursuers several miles, while running from the Murray
Narrow before a favourable breeze which sprung up, and, to our joy,
filled every sail.
We were much pleased by the situation of Woollȳa, and Jemmy was very
proud of the praises bestowed upon his land. Rising gently from the
water-side, there are considerable spaces of clear pasture land, well
watered by brooks, and backed by hills of moderate height, where we
afterwards found woods of the finest timber trees in the country.
Rich grass and some beautiful flowers, which none of us had ever
seen, pleased us when we landed, and augured well for the growth of
our garden seeds.
At our first approach, only a few natives appeared, who were not of
Jemmy’s family. The women ran away and hid themselves, but Jemmy
and York contrived (with difficulty) to make the men comprehend
the reason of our visit; and their awkward explanation, helped by
a few presents, gradually put them at ease. They soon understood
our meaning when we pointed to the boundary-line which they were
not to pass. This line was on the shore between our tents and the
grass-land; immediately behind the tents was a good landing-place,
always sheltered, where our boats were kept in readiness in case of
any sudden necessity.
Soon after our arrangements were made, the canoes which had been
following us began to arrive; but, much to my satisfaction, the
natives landed in coves at some distance from us, where the women
remained with the canoes while the men and boys came overland to our
little camp. This was very favourable for us, because it divided
their numbers and left our boats undisturbed. We had only to guard
our front, instead of being obliged to look out all round, as I had
expected; and really it would have been no trifling affair to watch
the pilfering hands and feet of some hundred natives, while many of
our own party (altogether only thirty in number) were occupied
at a distance, cutting wood, digging ground for a garden, or making
wigwams for Matthews, York, and Jemmy.
[Illustration:
R. Fitz-Roy. T. Landseer.
WOOLLYA.
Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838.]
As the natives thronged to our boundary-line (a mere mark made with
a spade on the ground), it was at first difficult to keep them back
without using force; but by good temper on the part of our men, by
distributing several presents, and by the broken Fuegian explanations
of our dark-coloured shipmates, we succeeded in getting the natives
squatted on their hams around the line, and obtaining influence
enough over them to prevent their encroaching.
Canoes continued to arrive; their owners hauled them ashore on
the beach, sent the women and children to old wigwams at a little
distance, and hastened themselves to see the strangers. While I was
engaged in watching the proceedings at our encampment, and poor Jemmy
was getting out of temper at the quizzing he had to endure on account
of his countrymen, whom he had extolled so highly until in sight, a
deep voice was heard shouting from a canoe more than a mile distant:
up started Jemmy from a bag full of nails and tools which he was
distributing, leaving them to be scrambled for by those nearest, and,
upon a repetition of the shout, exclaimed “My brother!” He then told
me that it was his eldest brother’s voice, and perched himself on a
large stone to watch the canoe, which approached slowly, being small
and loaded with several people. When it arrived, instead of an eager
meeting, there was a cautious circumspection which astonished us.
Jemmy walked slowly to meet the party, consisting of his mother, two
sisters, and four brothers. The old woman hardly looked at him before
she hastened away to secure her canoe and hide her property, all she
possessed--a basket containing tinder, fire-stone, paint, &c., and a
bundle of fish. The girls ran off with her without even looking at
Jemmy; and the brothers (a man and three boys) stood still, stared,
walked up to Jemmy, and all round him, without uttering a word.
Animals when they meet show far more animation and anxiety than was
displayed at this meeting. Jemmy was evidently much mortified, and
to add to his confusion and disappointment, as well as my own, he was
unable to talk to his brothers, except by broken sentences, in which
English predominated. After a few minutes had elapsed, his elder
brother began to talk to him; but although Jemmy understood what was
said, he could not reply. York and Fuegia were able to understand
some words, but could not or did not choose to speak.
This first evening of our stay at Woollȳa was rather an anxious one;
for although the natives seemed inclined to be quite friendly, and
they all left us at sunset, according to their invariable practice,
it was hard to say what mischief might not be planned by so numerous
a party, fancying, as they probably would, that we were inferior to
them in strength, because so few in number. Jemmy passed the evening
with his mother and brothers, in their wigwam, but returned to us
to sleep. York, also, and Fuegia were going about among the natives
at their wigwams, and the good effect of their intercourse and
explanations, such as they were, was visible next day (24th) in the
confident, familiar manner of the throng which surrounded us while
we began to dig ground for gardens, as well as cut wood for large
wigwams, in which Matthews and his party were to be established.
Canoes still arrived, but their owners seemed as well-disposed as the
rest of the natives, many of whom assisted us in carrying wood, and
bringing bundles of grass or rushes to thatch the wigwams which they
saw we were making, in a pleasant sheltered spot, near a brook of
excellent water. One wigwam was for Matthews, another for Jemmy, and
a third for York and Fuegia. York told me that Jemmy’s brother was
“very much friend,” that the country was “very good land,” and that
he wished to stay with Jemmy and Matthews.
A small plot of ground was selected near the wigwams, and, during our
stay, dug, planted and sowed with potatoes, carrots, turnips, beans,
peas, lettuce, onions, leeks, and cabbages. Jemmy soon clothed his
mother and brothers, by the assistance of his friends. For a garment
which I sent the old woman she returned me a large quantity of fish,
all she had to offer; and when she was dressed, Jemmy brought her
to see me. His brothers speedily became rich in old clothes, nails
and tools, and the eldest were soon known among the seamen as Tommy
Button and Harry Button, but the younger ones usually staid at their
wigwams, which were about a quarter of a mile distant. So quietly did
affairs proceed, that the following day (25th) a few of our people
went on the hills in search of guanacoes: many were seen, but they
were too wild to approach. An old man arrived, who was said to be
Jemmy’s uncle, his father’s brother; and many strangers came, who
seemed to belong to the Yapoo Tekeenica tribe. Jemmy did not like
their visit; he said they were bad people, ‘no friends.’
26th. While some of my party were washing in a stream, stripped to
the waist, several natives collected round, and were much amused at
the white skins, as well as at the act of washing, so new probably
to them. One of them ran to the nearest wigwams, and a troop of
curious gazers collected, whose hands, however, were soon so actively
employed in abstracting the handkerchiefs, shoes, &c., which had been
laid on the bank, that a stop was put to the ablutions.
We discovered that Jemmy’s eldest brother was a ‘doctor,’ and though
young for his occupation of conjuring and pretending to cure illness,
he was held in high estimation among his own tribe. I never could
distinctly ascertain whether the eldest man, or the doctor of a
tribe had the most influence; but from what little I could learn,
it appeared to me that the elder of a family or tribe had a sort
of executive authority, while the doctor gave advice, not only in
domestic affairs, but with respect to most transactions. In all
savage nations, I believe there is a person of this description--a
pretended prophet--conjuror--and, to a certain degree,--doctor.
This evening our party were employed for a short time in firing
at a mark, with the three-fold object of keeping our arms in
order--exercising the men--and aweing, without frightening, the
natives. While this was going on, the Fuegians sat about on their
hams, watching our proceedings, and often eagerly talking to each
other, as successful shots were made at the target, which was
intentionally placed so that they could see the effect of the balls.
At sunset they went away as usual, but looking very grave, and
talking earnestly. About an hour after dark, the sentry saw something
moving along the ground near our tents, within the boundary line,
which he thought was a wild animal, and had just levelled his musket
to fire at it, when he discovered it was a man, who instantly darted
off, and was lost in the darkness. Some native had doubtless stolen
to the tents, to see what we were doing; perhaps with a view to
surprise us, if asleep, perhaps only to steal.
27th. While a few of our party were completing the thatch of the last
wigwam, and others were digging in the garden which was made, I was
much surprised to see that all the natives were preparing to depart;
and very soon afterwards every canoe was set in motion,--not half
a dozen natives remaining. Even Jemmy’s own family, his mother and
brothers, left us; and as he could give no explanation of this sudden
departure, I was in much doubt as to the cause. Whether an attack was
meditated, and they were removing the women and children, previous to
a general assembly of the men, or whether they had been frightened
by our display on the preceding evening, and feared that we intended
to attack them, I could not ascertain; but deeming the latter by
far the most probable, I decided to take the opportunity of their
departure to give Matthews his first trial of passing a night at the
new wigwams.
Some among us thought that the natives intended to make a secret
attack, on account of the great temptation our property offered; and
in consequence of serious offence which had been taken by two or
three old men, who tried to force themselves into our encampment,
while I was at a little distance; one of whom, when resisted by
the sentry, spit in his face; and went off in a violent passion,
muttering to himself, and every now and then turning round to make
faces and angry gestures at the man who had very quietly, though
firmly, prevented his encroachment.
In consequence of this incident, and other symptoms of a disposition
to try their strength, having more than three hundred men, while
we were but thirty, I had thought it advisable, as I mentioned, to
give them some idea of the weapons we had at command, if obliged to
use them, by firing at a mark. Probably two-thirds of the natives
around us at that time had never seen a gun fired, being strangers,
coming from the Beagle Channel and its neighbourhood, where no vessel
had been; and although our exercise might have frightened them more
than I wished, so much, indeed, as to have induced them to leave the
place, it is not improbable that, without some such demonstration,
they might have obliged us to fire at them instead of the target.
So many strangers had arrived during the few days we remained, I
mean strangers to Jemmy’s family--men of the eastern tribe, which
he called Yapoo--that his brothers and mother had no longer any
influence over the majority, who cared for them as little as they did
for us, and were intent only upon plunder. Finding this the case,
I conclude that Jemmy’s friends thought it wise to retreat to a
neighbouring island before any attack commenced; but why they did not
tell Jemmy their reasons for going, I know not, neither could he tell
me more than that they said they were going to fish, and would return
at night. This, however, they did not do.
In the evening, Matthews and his party--Jemmy, York, and Fuegia--went
to their abode in the three new wigwams. In that made for Matthews,
Jemmy also took up his quarters at first: it was high and roomy for
such a construction; the space overhead was divided by a floor of
boards, brought from the ship, and there most of Matthews’ stores
were placed; but the most valuable articles were deposited in a box,
which was hid in the ground underneath the wigwam, where fire could
not reach.
Matthews was steady, and as willing as ever; neither York nor Jemmy
had the slightest doubt of their being all well treated; so trusting
that Matthews, in his honest intention to do good, would obtain that
assistance in which he confided, I decided to leave him for a few
days. The absence of the natives, every one of whom had decamped
at this time, gave a good opportunity for landing the larger tools
belonging to Matthews and our Fuegians, and placing them within or
beneath his wigwam, unseen by any one except ourselves; and at dusk,
all that we could do for them being completed, we left the place and
sailed some miles to the southward.
During the four days in which we had so many natives about us, of
course some thefts were committed, but nothing of consequence was
stolen. I saw one man talking to Jemmy Button, while another picked
his pocket of a knife, and even the wary York lost something, but
from Fuegia they did not take a single article; on the contrary,
their kindness to her was remarkable, and among the women she was
quite a pet.
Our people lost a few trifles, in consequence of their own
carelessness. Had they themselves been left among gold and diamonds,
would they all have refrained from indulging their acquisitive
inclinations?
Notwithstanding the decision into which I had reasoned myself
respecting the natives, I could not help being exceedingly anxious
about Matthews, and early next morning our boats were again steered
towards Woollȳa. My own anxiety was increased by hearing the remarks
made from time to time by the rest of the party, some of whom thought
we should not again see him alive; and it was with no slight joy that
I caught sight of him, as my boat rounded a point of land, carrying
a kettle to the fire near his wigwam. We landed and ascertained that
nothing had occurred to damp his spirits, or in any way check his
inclination to make a fair trial. Some natives had returned to the
place, among them one of Jemmy’s brothers; but so far were they from
showing the slightest ill-will, that nothing could be more friendly
than their behaviour.
Jemmy told us that these people, who arrived at daylight that morning
were his friends, that his own family would come in the course of the
day, and that the ‘bad men,’ the strangers, were all gone away to
their own country.
A further trial was now determined upon. The yawl, with one
whale-boat, was sent back to the Beagle, and I set out on a westward
excursion, accompanied by Messrs. Darwin and Hamond, in the other two
boats: my intention being to complete the exploration of Whale-boat
Sound, and the north-west arm of the Beagle Channel; then re-visit
Woollȳa, either leave or remove Matthews, as might appear advisable,
and repair to our ship in Goree Road. With a fair and fresh wind my
boat and Mr. Hamond’s passed the Murray Narrow, and sailed far along
the channel towards the west, favoured, unusually, by an easterly
breeze. Just as we had landed, and set up our tent for the night,
some canoes were seen approaching; so rather than be obliged to
watch their movements all night, we at once embarked our tent and
half-cooked supper, and pulled along the shore some miles further,
knowing that they would not willingly follow us in the dark. About
midnight we landed and slept undisturbed. Next day we made little
progress, the wind having changed, and landed, earlier than usual, on
the north side of the channel, at Shingle Point. Some natives soon
appeared, and though few in number, were inclined to give trouble.
It was evident they did not know the effect of fire-arms; for if a
musket were pointed at them, and threatening gestures used, they only
made faces at us, and mocked whatever we did. Finding them more and
more insolent and troublesome, I preferred leaving them to risking a
struggle, in which it might become necessary to fire, at the hazard
of destroying life. Twelve armed men, therefore, gave way to six
unarmed, naked savages, and went on to another cove, where these
annoying, because ignorant natives could not see us.
On the 29th we reached Devil Island, and found the large wigwam
still standing, which in 1830 my boat’s crew called the ‘Parliament
House.’ Never, in any part of Tierra del Fuego, have I noticed the
remains of a wigwam which seemed to have been burned or pulled down;
probably there is some feeling on the subject, and in consequence the
natives allow them to decay naturally, but never wilfully destroy
them. We enjoyed a grand view of the lofty mountain, now called
Darwin, with its immense glaciers extending far and wide. Whether
this mountain is equal to Sarmiento in height, I am not certain,
as the measurements obtained did not rest upon satisfactory data;
but the result of those measures gave 6,800 feet for its elevation
above the sea. This, as an abstract height, is small, but taking into
consideration that it rises abruptly from the sea, which washes its
base, and that only a short space intervenes between the salt water
and the lofty frozen summit, the effect upon an observer’s eye is
extremely grand, and equal, probably, to that of far higher mountains
which are situated at a distance inland, and generally rise from an
elevated district.
We stopped to cook and eat our hasty meal upon a low point of land,
immediately in front of a noble precipice of solid ice; the cliffy
face of a huge glacier, which seemed to cover the side of a mountain,
and completely filled a valley several leagues in extent.
Wherever these enormous glaciers were seen, we remarked the most
beautiful light blue or sea green tints in portions of the solid
ice, caused by varied transmission, or reflection of light. Blue was
the prevailing colour, and the contrast which its extremely delicate
hue, with the dazzling white of other ice, afforded to the dark green
foliage, the almost black precipices, and the deep, indigo blue
water, was very remarkable.
Miniature icebergs surrounded us; fragments of the cliff, which from
time to time fall into a deep and gloomy basin beneath the precipice,
and are floated out into the channel by a slow tidal stream. In the
first volume the frequent falling of these masses of ice is noticed
by Captain King in the Strait of Magalhaens, and in the narrative of
my first exploring visit to this arm of the Beagle Channel; therefore
I will add no further remark upon the subject.
Our boats were hauled up out of the water upon the sandy point, and
we were sitting round a fire about two hundred yards from them, when
a thundering crash shook us--down came the whole front of the icy
cliff--and the sea surged up in a vast heap of foam. Reverberating
echoes sounded in every direction, from the lofty mountains which
hemmed us in; but our whole attention was immediately called to great
rolling waves which came so rapidly that there was scarcely time for
the most active of our party to run and seize the boats before they
were tossed along the beach like empty calabashes. By the exertions
of those who grappled them or seized their ropes, they were hauled up
again out of reach of a second and third roller; and indeed we had
good reason to rejoice that they were just saved in time; for had
not Mr. Darwin, and two or three of the men, run to them instantly,
they would have been swept away from us irrecoverably. Wind and tide
would soon have drifted them beyond the distance a man could swim;
and then, what prizes they would have been for the Fuegians, even if
we had escaped by possessing ourselves of canoes. At the extremity
of the sandy point on which we stood, there were many large blocks
of stone, which seemed to have been transported from the adjacent
mountains, either upon masses of ice, or by the force of waves such
as those which we witnessed. Had our boats struck those blocks,
instead of soft sand, our dilemma would not have been much less than
if they had been at once swept away.
Embarking, we proceeded along a narrow passage, more like a river
than an arm of the sea, till the setting sun warned us to seek a
resting-place for the night; when, selecting a beach very far from
any glacier, we again hauled our boats on shore. Long after the sun
had disappeared from our view, his setting rays shone so brightly
upon the gilded icy sides of the summits above us, that twilight
lasted an unusual time, and a fine clear evening enabled us to
watch every varying tint till even the highest peak became like a
dark shadow, whose outline only could be distinguished. No doubt
such scenes are familiar to many, but to us, surrounded even as we
so often were by their materials, they were rare; because clouds
continually hang over the heights, or obscure the little sunshine
which falls to the lot of Tierra del Fuego.
The following day (30th) we passed into a large expanse of water,
which I named Darwin Sound--after my messmate, who so willingly
encountered the discomfort and risk of a long cruise in a small
loaded boat. Desirous of finding an opening northwards, I traced
the northern shore of this sound, mile by mile, leaving all islands
to the southward until we entered Whale-boat Sound, and I recognized
Cape Desolation in the distance, as well as a number of minor points
which had become familiar to me during the search after our lost boat
in the former voyage (1830).
Feb. 2. Having done what was necessary and attainable for the
purposes of the survey, we traversed Whale-boat Sound, and stopped
for a time at an old bivouac, used by me twice before, on an islet
near the east extremity of the largest Stewart Island. While the
boat’s crew were occupied in preparing our meal, I went to Stewart
Island, and from a small eminence saw Mount Sarmiento quite
distinctly. We next steered eastward, along the north side of the
Londonderry Islands, and passed the night in a narrow passage. On
the 3d we got to the open sea at the south side of Darwin Sound,
and entered the south-west arm of the Beagle Channel rather too
late, for it had become so dark we could distinguish no place fit to
receive us; however, after much scrutiny and anxious sounding, to
ascertain if our boats could approach without danger of being stove,
we were guided by the sound of a cascade to a sheltered cove, where
the beach was smooth. Excepting for the novelty and excitement of
exploring unknown places, however uninteresting they may be, there
was little in this trip worthy of general notice, considering how
much has already been said of these unprofitable regions. Even to a
professed naturalist, there was scarcely anything to repay the time
and trouble, as it was impossible to delay long enough in any one
place to give time for more than a most cursory examination.
I need hardly say that the survey of such places as were visited in
this hasty manner is little more than an eye-sketch, corrected by
frequent bearings, occasional latitudes by sun, moon, or stars, and
meridian distances, measured by two chronometers, which were always
kept in a large box and treated very carefully. To have attempted
more, to have hoped for such an accurate delineation of these
shores, at present almost useless to civilized man, as is absolutely
necessary where shipping may resort, would have been wrong, while so
many other objects demanded immediate attention.
4th. We sailed along the passage very rapidly, a fresh wind and
strong tide favouring us. The flood-tide stream set two or three
knots an hour through this south-west arm of the Beagle Channel, but
the ebb was scarcely noticed: certainly its strength did not, even
in the narrowest places, exceed one knot an hour. A few Alikhoolip
Fuegians were seen in a cove on the south shore, ten miles west of
Point Divide; the only natives, except a very small party in Darwin
Sound, that had been met in the excursion since we left the Tekeenica
people.
Near Point Divide we saw a large fire, and approached the spot
guardedly, supposing that a number of Fuegians must be there. No
one appeared; but still the fire burned brightly, and we began to
think there might be an ambush, or that the natives who had been
there had fled, but were still in the neighbourhood. Approaching
nearer, we found that the fire was in a large tree, whose trunk it
had almost consumed. Judging from the slow rate at which the tree
burned while we were present, I should say it had been on fire two or
three days, and that the frequent heavy rain had prevented the flames
from making head. Had the weather been some time dry, the adjoining
woodland would have blazed, and, as the mountain side is steep and
covered with trees, the conflagration would have been immense. At
Point Divide the slate rock seemed to be of excellent quality, fit
for roofing; but when will roofing slates be required in Tierra del
Fuego? Perhaps though sooner than we suppose; for the accidental
discovery of a valuable mine might effect great changes.
On the south shore, nearly opposite to Shingle Point, we met a large
party of natives, among whom those who disturbed us at that place
as we passed westward were recognized. All of them appeared in full
dress, being bedaubed with red and white paint, and ornamented, after
their fashion, with feathers and the down of geese. One of their
women was noticed by several among us as being far from ill-looking:
her features were regular, and, excepting a deficiency of hair on
the eyebrow, and rather thick lips, the contour of her face was
sufficiently good to have been mistaken for that of a handsome gipsy.
What her figure might be, a loose linen garment, evidently one that
had belonged to Fuegia Basket, prevented our noticing. The sight
of this piece of linen, several bits of ribbon, and some scraps of
red cloth, apparently quite recently obtained, made me feel very
anxious about Matthews and his party: there was also an air of almost
defiance among these people, which looked as if they knew that harm
had been done, and that they were ready to stand on the defensive if
any such attack as they expected were put into execution. Passing
therefore hastily on, we went as far as the light admitted, and at
daybreak next morning (6th) were again hastening towards Woollȳa.
As we shot through the Murray Narrow several parties of natives
were seen, who were ornamented with strips of tartan cloth or white
linen, which we well knew were obtained from our poor friends. No
questions were asked; we thought our progress slow, though wind
and tide favoured us: but, hurrying on, at noon reached Woollȳa.
Several canoes were on the beach, and as many natives seemed to be
assembled as were there two days before we left the place. All were
much painted, and ornamented with rags of English clothing, which we
concluded to be the last remnants of our friends’ stock. Our boats
touched the shore; the natives came hallooing and jumping about
us, and then, to my extreme relief, Matthews appeared, dressed and
looking as usual. After him came Jemmy and York, also dressed and
looking well: Fuegia, they said, was in a wigwam.
Taking Matthews into my boat, we pushed out a short distance to be
free from interruption, and remained till I had heard the principal
parts of his story: the other boat took Jemmy on board, and York
waited on the beach. Nearly all the Fuegians squatted down on their
hams to watch our proceedings, reminding me of a pack of hounds
waiting for a fox to be unearthed.
Matthews gave a bad account of the prospect which he saw before him,
and told me, that he did not think himself safe among such a set
of utter savages as he found them to be, notwithstanding Jemmy’s
assurances to the contrary. No violence had been committed beyond
holding down his head by force, as if in contempt of his strength;
but he had been harshly threatened by several men, and from the
signs used by them, he felt convinced they would take his life.
During the last few days, his time had been altogether occupied in
watching his property. At first there were only a few quiet natives
about him, who were inoffensive; but three days after our departure
several canoes full of strangers to Jemmy’s family arrived, and from
that time Matthews had had no peace by day, and very little rest at
night. Some of them were always on the look-out for an opportunity
to snatch up and run off with some tool or article of clothing, and
others spent the greater part of each day in his wigwam, asking for
every thing they saw, and often threatening him when he refused to
comply with their wishes. More than one man went out in a rage, and
returned immediately with a large stone in his hand, making signs
that he would kill Matthews if he did not give him what was demanded.
Sometimes a party of them gathered round Matthews, and, if he had
nothing to give them, teased him by pulling the hair of his face,
pushing him about, and making mouths at him. His only partizans
were the women; now and then he left Jemmy to guard the hut, and
went to the natives’ wigwams, where the women always received him
kindly, making room for him by their fire, and giving him a share of
whatever food they had, without asking for any thing in return. The
men never took the trouble of going with him on these visits (which,
however, ceased when so many strangers arrived), their attention
being engrossed by the tools, clothes, and crockery-ware at our
shipmate’s quarters. Fortunately, the most valuable part of Matthews’
own things were underground, in a cave unsuspected by the natives,
and other large tools were hidden overhead in the roof of his hut.
York and Fuegia fared very well; they lost nothing; but Jemmy was
sadly plundered, even by his own family. Our garden, upon which
much labour had been bestowed, had been trampled over repeatedly,
although Jemmy had done his best to explain its object and prevent
people from walking there. When questioned about it, he looked very
sorrowful, and, with a slow shake of the head, said, “My people very
bad; great fool; know nothing at all; very great fool.” It was soon
decided that Matthews should not remain. I considered that he had
already undergone a severe trial, and ought not to be again exposed
to such savages, however willing he might be to try them farther if I
thought it right. The next difficulty was how to get Matthews’ chest
and the remainder of his property safely into our boats, in the face
of a hundred Fuegians, who would of course understand our object, and
be much more than a match for us on land; but the less hesitation
shown, the less time they would have to think of what we were about;
so, dividing our party, and spreading about a little to create
confidence--at a favourable moment the wigwam was quickly cleared,
the cave emptied, and the contents safely placed in our boats. As I
stood watching the proceedings, a few anxious moments passed, for
any kind of skirmish would have been so detrimental to the three who
were still to remain. When the last man was embarked, I distributed
several useful articles, such as axes, saws, gimblets, knives
and nails, among the natives, then bade Jemmy and York farewell,
promising to see them again in a few days, and departed from the
wondering throng assembled on the beach.
When fairly out of sight of Woollȳa, sailing with a fair wind towards
the Beagle, Matthews must have felt almost like a man reprieved,
excepting that he enjoyed the feelings always sure to reward those
who try to do their duty, in addition to those excited by a sudden
certainty of his life being out of jeopardy. We slept that night in
a cove under Webley Head; sailed early the following morning (7th)
along the north side of Nassau Bay, and about an hour after dark
reached the Beagle--found all well, the surveying work about Goree
Road done, the ship refitted, and quite ready for her next trip.
A day or two was required for observations and arrangements, after
which (10th) we beat to windward across Nassau Bay, and on the 11th
anchored in Scotchwell Bay. A rough night was passed under sail
between Wollaston and Navarin Islands, in which we pretty well proved
the clearness of that passage, as it blew fresh and we made a great
many boards.
Next day I set out to examine the western part of Ponsonby Sound
and re-visit Woollȳa. In my absence one party was to go westward,
overland, to look at the outer coast between False Cape and Cape
Weddell, and another was to examine and make a plan of the bay or
harbour in which the Beagle lay. In 1830, Mr. Stokes had laid down
its shores with accuracy on a small scale, but there was not then
time to take many soundings; and as I conceived that Orange Bay and
this harbour were likely to be useful ports, it was worth making a
particular plan of each.
12th. With one boat I crossed Tekeenica Sound, and explored the
western part of Ponsonby Sound. Natives were seen here and there, but
we had little intercourse with them. Some curious effects of volcanic
action were observed, besides masses of conglomerate, such as I had
not noticed in any other part of Tierra del Fuego. On one islet I
was placed in an awkward predicament for half an hour; it was a very
steep, precipitous hill, which I had ascended by climbing or creeping
through ravines and among trees; but, wishing to return to the boat’s
crew, after taking a few angles and bearings from its summit, I could
find no place by which it appeared possible to descend. The ravine
up which I crawled was hidden by wood, and night was at hand. I went
to and fro, like a dog on a wall, unable to descend, till one of the
boat’s crew who was wandering about heard me call, and, ascending at
the only accessible place, showed me where to plunge into the wood
with a prospect of emerging again in a proper direction. This night
we had dry beautiful weather, the leaves and sticks on the ground
crackling under our feet as we walked, while at the ship, only sixty
miles distant, rain poured down incessantly.
The night of the 13th was passed on Button Island. This also was
quite fine, without a drop of rain, while at the ship, in Packsaddle
Bay, it rained frequently. I mention these instances to show how
different the climate may be even in places so near one another as
Packsaddle Bay and Woollȳa.
14th. With considerable anxiety I crossed over from Button Island
to Woollȳa. Several canoes were out fishing, women only being in
them, who did not cease their occupation as we passed: this augured
well; and in a few minutes after we saw Jemmy, York, and Fuegia, in
their usual dress. But few natives were about them, and those few
seemed quiet and well disposed. Jemmy complained that the people had
stolen many of his things, but York and Fuegia had contrived to take
better care of theirs. I went to their wigwams and found very little
change. Fuegia looked clean and tidily dressed, and by her wigwam was
a canoe, which York was building out of planks left for him by our
party. The garden was uninjured, and some of the vegetables already
sprouting.
Jemmy told us that strangers had been there, with whom he and his
people had ‘very much jaw,’ that they fought, threw ‘great many
stone,’ and stole two women (in exchange for whom Jemmy’s party stole
one), but were obliged to retreat. Jemmy’s mother came down to the
boat to see us; she was decently clothed, by her son’s care. He said
that his brothers were all friendly, and that he should get on very
well now that the ‘strange men’ were driven away. I advised Jemmy
to take his mother and younger brother to his own wigwam, which he
promised to do, and then, finding that they were all quite contented
and apparently very happy, I left the place, with rather sanguine
hopes of their effecting among their countrymen some change for the
better. Jemmy’s occupation was hollowing out the trunk of a large
tree, in order to make such a canoe as he had seen at Rio de Janeiro.
I hoped that through their means our motives in taking them to
England would become understood and appreciated among their
associates, and that a future visit might find them so favourably
disposed towards us, that Matthews might then undertake, with a far
better prospect of success, that enterprise which circumstances had
obliged him to defer, though not to abandon altogether.
Having completed our work in Packsaddle Bay on the 18th, the Beagle
went to the inlet originally called Windhond Bay, a deep place full
of islets: thence, on the 19th, she moved to Gretton Bay, on the
north side of Wollaston Island, and to Middle Cove. On the 20th, it
was blowing a gale of wind from the south-west, but we pushed across
before it to Goree Road, knowing that we should there find secure
anchorage, and be unmolested by the furious williwaws which whirled
over the high peaks of Wollaston Island.
We weighed from Goree Road on the 21st, and ran under close-reefed
topsails to Good Success Bay, where our anchors were dropped in the
evening. The night of the 22d was one of the most stormy I ever
witnessed. Although close to a weather shore in a snug cove, upon
good holding ground, with masts struck and yards braced as sharp
as possible, the wind was so furious that both bowers were brought
a-head with a cable on each, and the sheet anchor (having been let
go early) had half a cable on it, the depth of water being only ten
fathoms. During some of the blasts, our fore-yard bent so much that I
watched it with anxiety, thinking it would be sprung. The storm being
from the westward, threw no sea into the cove, but I several times
expected to be driven out of our place of refuge, if not shelter.
During part of the time we waited in Good Success Bay for an interval
of tolerable weather, in which we might cross to the Falkland Islands
without being molested by a gale, there was so much surf on the shore
that our boats could not land, even while the wind was moderate in
the bay.
While we were prisoners on board, some fish were caught, among which
was a skate, four feet in length and three feet wide. Several fine
cod-fish, of the same kind as those off Cape Fairweather, were also
hooked, and much relished.
On the 26th we sailed, passed through a most disagreeable swell off
Cape San Diego, and ran before a fresh gale towards the Falkland
Islands. Towards evening we rounded to for soundings, but the sea was
so high and short, that a man[3] at the jib-boom-end was pitched more
than a fathom under water. He held on manfully, both to the boom and
the lead-line, and as he rose above the wave, blowing and dripping,
hove the lead forward as steadily as ever.[4] My own feelings at
seeing him disappear may be imagined:--it was some time before we
sounded again. This heavy though short sea seemed to be caused by the
flood tide, coming from the southward, and meeting waves raised by
strong north-west winds. The stream of tide set us a mile each hour
north-eastward.
At eight the wind and sea were too much for us to run with;
therefore, watching an opportunity, we rounded to[5] under
close-reefed main-topsail, trysails, and fore-staysail. Next morning
(27th) we bore up, though the sea was still heavy, and steered to
pass south of the Falklands. Our observations at noon showed that
since leaving Good Success Bay we had been set more than thirty
miles to the north-east. This effect, whether caused by the flood
tide-stream, or by a current independent of the tide, would be
dangerous to ships endeavouring to pass westward of the Falklands
during bad weather, and in all probability caused the embayment
of H.M.S. Eden, Captain W. F. W. Owen, when she was saved by his
skill: also of a French storeship, the Durance; and of several other
vessels. At noon, on the 28th, we found that the current or stream of
tide had set us more towards the east than to the northward, during
the preceding twenty-four hours, while we were at the south side of
the islands.
At daylight on the 1st of March (having passed the preceding night
standing off and on under easy sail), we made Cape Pembroke, at the
eastern extremity of the Falklands. The weather was very cold and
raw, with frequent hail-squalls, although in the month corresponding
to September of our hemisphere; and while working to windward into
Berkeley Sound, the gusts of wind were sometimes strong enough
to oblige us to shorten all sail. I did not then know of Port
William--so close to us, and so easy of access.
The aspect of the Falklands rather surprised me: instead of a low,
level, barren country, like Patagonia, or a high woody region, like
Tierra del Fuego, we saw ridges of rocky hills, about a thousand feet
in height, traversing extensive tracts of sombre-looking moorland,
unenlivened by a tree. A black, low, and rocky coast, on which the
surf raged violently, and the strong wind against which we were
contending, did not tend to improve our first impressions of those
unfortunate islands--scene of feud and assassination, and the cause
of angry discussion among nations.
In a cove (called Johnson Harbour) at the north side of Berkeley
Sound, was a wrecked ship, with her masts standing, and in other
places were the remains of two more wrecks. We anchored near the
beach on which Freycinet ran the Uranie, after she struck on a rock
off Volunteer Point, at the entrance of Berkeley Sound; and from a
French boat which came alongside learned that the Magellan, French
whaler, had been driven from her anchors during the tremendous storm
of January 12-13; that her crew were living on shore under tents,
having saved every thing; that there were only a few colonists left
at the almost ruined settlement of Port Louis; and that the British
flag had been re-hoisted on the islands by H.M.S. Tyne and Clio.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] My coxswain.
[2] The ground within a wigwam is scooped out considerably.
[3] Nicholas White.
[4] Two men in the staysail netting were also dipped under water, at
a second plunge, from which White escaped.
[5] The barometer was below 29 inches. See Meteorological Journal in
Appendix.