CHAPTER V.

Arrival at Sandy Point--Difficulties as to lodging--Story of the

mutiny--Patagonian ladies--Agreeable society in the Straits

of Magellan--Winter aspect of the flora--Patagonians and

Fuegians--Habits of the South American ostrich--Waiting

for the steamer--Departure--Climate of the Straits and of

the southern hemisphere--Voyage to Monte Video--Saturnalia

of children--City of Monte Video--Signor Bartolomeo Bossi;

his explorations--Neighbourhood of the city--Uruguayan

politics--River steamer--Excursion to Paisandu--Voyage

on the Uruguay--Use of the telephone--Excursion to the

camp--Aspect of the flora--Arrival at Buenos Ayres--Industrial

Exhibition--Argentine forests--The cathedral of Buenos

Ayres--Excursion to La Boca--Argentaria as a field for emigration.

The time had come for parting with my genial fellow-traveller, Mr.

H----, with our excellent captain, and with the officers of the

_Rhamses_, to all of whom I felt indebted for friendly aid in my

pursuits; and on entering the boat that was to take me ashore I was

introduced to the captain of the port, an important official of German

origin. Of his various excellent qualities, the only one that I at

first detected was a remarkable gift of taciturnity, rarely interrupted

by a single monosyllable. I was aware that accommodation for strangers

at Sandy Point is extremely limited, but I consoled myself with a

belief that, if it came to the worst, the letter which I carried to

the governor from the minister for foreign affairs at Santiago would

help me through any preliminary difficulties. On reaching the shore, my

luggage was without further question carried to a house close by, which

is at this place the sole representative of a hotel. The accommodation

available for strangers consists of a single room of fair dimensions,

and this, as I soon learned, was occupied by a stranger. A glance at

the multitudinous objects scattered about made me feel sure that the

visitor must be a brother naturalist, but did not help me to solve

the immediate difficulty. As I stood at the entrance, a dark-haired

person, speaking pretty good English, proposed to take me to the house

of the English vice-consul, and in his company I had the first view of

the settlement of Sandy Point. As the ground rises very gently from

the beach, few houses are seen from the sea, and the place is not so

inconsiderable as it at first appears. Though rather to be counted as

a village than as a town, it has the essential privilege of a Spanish

city in the possession of a _plaza_, not yet quite surrounded by

houses. The buildings are small, and nearly all built of wood painted

outside.

[_ARRIVAL AT SANDY POINT._]

The next piece of information received was unfavourable to my

prospects. An Argentine corvette had reached Sandy Point a few days

before, and the vice-consul had been invited, along with the governor

and other notabilities, to a luncheon, which was likely to last for

some time. I was fortunately provided with a note of introduction

to Dr. Fenton, the medical officer of the settlement, which I now

proceeded to deliver. Being somewhat unwell, he had not joined the

marine entertainment, and I was at once cordially received. Not many

minutes were needed to discover in my host a fellow-countryman, one

of a family in the county of Sligo, with which I had some former

acquaintance. Possessing in large measure the national virtue of

hospitality, Dr. Fenton might have perhaps been satisfied with even a

slighter claim; but, as it was, I from that time continued during my

stay to receive from him the utmost kindness and attention. The first

short conversation made me much better acquainted with the history of

the settlement than I was before my arrival.

In 1843 the Chilian Government decided on establishing a penal

settlement in the Straits of Magellan, and selected for its position

Port Famine, which had been frequently visited by early navigators.

After a few years’ experience that place was abandoned, and the

settlement was transferred to Sandy Point. This was partly preferred on

account of a deposit of lignite of inferior quality, which lies little

more than a mile from the shore. A considerable number of convicts were

maintained at the station, and as there was little risk of escape they

were allowed considerable liberty. At length, in 1877, the injudicious

severity of the governor of that day provoked a revolt among the

convicts. They speedily overcame the keepers, and the officials and

peaceable inhabitants had no resource left but to fly to the forest.

The convicts proceeded to set fire to the houses. Dr. Fenton lost

his house, furniture, and books, and, in addition, the record of

ten years’ meteorological observations. By a fortunate accident, a

Chilian war-vessel reached Sandy Point just when disorder was at its

height; the insurgents were speedily overpowered, and several of the

ringleaders executed. The weather was unusually mild, and the refugees,

amongst whom were many ladies and young children, suffered less than

might have been expected in such a climate. Nearly all the houses seen

by me had been hastily erected since the outbreak, and, as was natural,

were on a scale barely sufficing for the wants of the inmates.

[_STORY OF THE MUTINY._]

I fully understood that no amount of hospitable intentions could

enable Dr. Fenton to give me quarters in his house, and he assured me

that the governor, Don Francisco Sampayo, was no less restricted as

to accommodation. One resource, however, seemed available: the German

consul, Herr Meidell, had returned for a visit to Europe, and it was

thought that, on application to his partner, a room might certainly be

obtained in his house. My dark-haired friend, who had reappeared on the

scene, and who turned out to be a native of Gibraltar, kindly undertook

to arrange the matter, and, after an early dinner at Dr. Fenton’s

hospitable table, I proceeded with him to present my letter to the

governor. The great man had not yet returned to shore, but I made the

acquaintance of his wife, a delicate Peruvian lady, who sat, wrapped

in a woollen shawl, in a room without a fire, of which the temperature

must have been about 45° Fahr. On leaving the governor’s house, we

again encountered my envoy, whose countenance at once proclaimed that

he had failed in his mission. Mr. Meidell, being a cautious man, had

locked up most of his furniture and household effects before going to

Europe, and had left strict injunctions that no one was to enter the

part of his house used as a private dwelling. As we stood consulting

about further proceedings, a tall figure approached, and I learned that

it belonged to the stranger who occupied the solitary room available

for visitors to Sandy Point.

I speedily made the acquaintance of Signor Vinciguerra, one of the

group of energetic young Italian naturalists whose head-quarters are at

Genoa. He belonged to the expedition commanded by Lieutenant Bove of

the Italian navy, and had remained at Sandy Point to investigate the

zoology of the neighbouring coast, while his companions proceeded to

Staten Island, or Isla de los Estados, at the eastern extremity of the

Fuegian Archipelago. Community of pursuits and several mutual friends

at once cemented cordial relations, and Signor Vinciguerra kindly

undertook to make room for me in his rather restricted quarters. We

proceeded to the house close by the landing-place, and I was in the act

of arranging the matter with the landlord, when the British vice-consul

appeared. He had overcome the scruples of Mr. Meidell’s partner, a

mattress and some coverings had been found, a room was at my disposal,

with a bed on the floor, and the lodging difficulty was solved.

Not without some regret at being separated from an agreeable companion,

I accepted the offered quarters, and had the needful portion of my

luggage carried to my temporary home. As the sun set before four

o’clock, it was already dark before I was installed in my new quarters,

and the evening was spent under the hospitable roof of Dr. Fenton, from

whom I received much interesting information as to the region which

he has made his home, and the indigenous population. On my way to his

house I saw the first specimens of the Patagonian Indians, who at this

season frequent the settlement to dispose of skins, chiefly _guanaco_

and _rhea_, and indulge in their ruling passion for ardent spirits. Two

ladies of large and stout build, attired in shabby and torn European

dress, and both far gone in intoxication, were standing at a door of

a shop or store, and indulging in loud talk for the entertainment of

a circle of bystanders. The language was, I presume, their native

dialect, with here and there a word of Spanish or English, and the

subject seemed to be what with us would be called chaff, as their

remarks elicited frequent peals of laughter. I was suddenly reminded of

a drunken Irish basket-woman whose freaks had been the cause of mingled

alarm and amusement in my early childhood.

[_PATAGONIAN LADIES._]

During the day the streets of Punta Arenas were deep in mud, but as I

went home at night, the sky was cloudless, a sharp frost had set in,

and the mud was hard frozen. I had not before enjoyed so fine a view of

the southern heavens. The cross was brilliant, nearly in the zenith,

and I made out clearly the dark starless spaces that have been named

the coal-sacks.

I was on foot before daylight on the 11th of June. The benevolent

German who managed Mr. Meidell’s establishment sent up a cup of hot

coffee, and a brazier with charcoal, which was grievously wanted to dry

my plant-paper. The sky was still clear, and the sun, rising blood-red

over the flat shores of Tierra del Fuego on the opposite side of the

Straits, was a striking spectacle. I had arranged overnight to take

with me a boy having some knowledge of the neighbourhood, and was just

starting for a walk when I met the governor, who at this early hour

was on his way to call upon me. After a short conversation with this

courteous gentleman, and accepting an invitation to dine at his house,

I pursued my course in the direction of the now disused coal mine. For

about half a mile I followed the tramway which was erected some years

ago to carry the coal to the port. It runs along the low ground between

the hills and the shore, and then enters a little flat-bottomed valley

between the hills. Heavy rain had recently fallen, and the flat had

been flooded, but the surface was now frozen over. Before long we found

the tramway impracticable; it had been allowed to fall to decay, and,

being supported on trestles, the gaps were inconveniently frequent. I

then attempted to continue my walk over the flat, and found the ice in

some places strong enough to bear my weight, but it frequently gave

way, and I soon got tired of splashing through the surface into the

ice-cold water, and resolved to betake myself to the adjoining hills.

The weather showed itself as changeable on this day as it usually is

in this singular climate. For about half an hour the sky was clear and

the sun so warm that I could not bear an overcoat. Then a breeze sprung

up from the north-west, the sky was soon covered, and some rain fell;

again the sky cleared, and, if I remember right, four or five similar

changes occurred before nightfall.

[_VEGETATION OF SANDY POINT._]

At this season I could not expect to see much of the vegetation of the

country, but I found rather more than I expected. Two _Compositæ_, both

evergreen shrubs, were abundantly clothed with fruit, and among other

characteristic forms I collected two species of _Acæna_, a genus widely

spread through the southern hemisphere, allied to, but very distinct

from, our common _Alchemilla_. From its ancestral home in south polar

lands, many descendants have reached South America, and some of these

have followed the Andean chain, and thus got to Mexico and California.

From the same stock we find representatives in New Zealand, Australia,

Tristan d’Acunha, and South Africa, while one has travelled so far

as the Sandwich Islands. The seeds are provided with hooked beaks,

which may have attached themselves to the plumage of oceanic birds,

and a single successful transport in the course of many ages may have

introduced the parent of the existing species to new regions of the

earth. It was not without interest to find two cosmopolitan weeds, our

common shepherd’s purse and chickweed, both flowering in winter in this

remote part of the world.

From the summit of the hill I enjoyed a good view of the flat-topped

range--apparently from 2500 to 3000 feet in height--that separates the

Straits of Magellan from Otway Water. This is a landlocked basin nearly

fifty miles long and half as wide, connected with the sea by a narrow

sound that opens on the western side of the Straits near Port Gallant.

The lower slopes of the intervening range are covered with forest, and

the summit apparently bare, but in this season covered with snow. If

the extreme difficulty of penetrating the forests were not well known,

it would be a matter of surprise that no one has ever crossed the

range, and that the eastern shores of Otway Water, not thirty miles

distant from Punta Arenas, are yet unexplored.

In returning to Punta Arenas I passed through the remains of the burnt

forest that once extended close to the houses. In the summer of 1873,

either by design or accident, fire seized the forest, composed of large

trees of the antarctic beech, and raged so furiously for a time as to

threaten destruction to the entire place. After the first efforts at

averting the immediate danger, no further interference was attempted,

and I was assured that the conflagration was not entirely exhausted

until the ensuing winter, nearly six months after it commenced. I

passed the charred remains of hundreds of thick stumps, many of them

over three feet in diameter, but I was surprised to find several

trees much too large to have grown up since the fire, which in some

unexplained way escaped destruction. Unlike most of the beeches of the

southern hemisphere, this has deciduous leaves, so that the branches

were bare; but many of them were laden with the curious parasite,

_Myzodendron punctulatum_, the structure of which plant and its allies

was long ago admirably illustrated by Sir Joseph Hooker.[35]

[_THE GOVERNOR’S FAMILY._]

The evening of this day was very agreeably spent at the house of the

governor, who had invited to his table Commander Pietrabona and two

officers of the Argentine corvette, Cabo de Ornos, Signor Vinciguerra,

the captain of the port, and two or three of the principal inhabitants.

One of the favourable features by which a stranger is impressed in

Chili is the comparative moderation with which political conflicts are

conducted. In the other South American republics a conspicuous party

leader is marked by the opposite party for relentless proscription, and

not rarely for assassination. In Chili political offences are condoned.

Don Francisco Sampayo, who is a courteous and accomplished gentleman,

had been mixed up in the same abortive movements in which Don B. Vicuña

Mackenna was concerned, and had with that gentleman undergone a term of

exile, but was subsequently appointed by his political opponents to the

government of this settlement.

The government house was unpretending, and could not by any stretch of

language be called luxurious. Two good reception-rooms and the bedrooms

of the family, all on the ground floor, opened into a small court

exposed to rain and snow. The reception-rooms had fireplaces, but these

were used only in the evenings, and it was not surprising that the

governor’s wife, brought up in the tepid climate of Peru, seemed unable

to resist the inclemency of this region. Their children, however, were

vigorous and thriving, reminding one more of English boys and girls

than any I had seen in South America. The most interesting figure in

the family group was that of the mother of Madame Sampayo, an elderly

lady, with the remains of remarkable beauty, and an unusual combination

of dignity and grace with lively, almost playful, conversation. The

removal to this inhospitable shore had not quenched her activity, and

she employed her leisure in devising pretty ornaments from seaweeds,

shells, and other natural productions of the place.

The Chilian and Argentine Republics concluded, in the year before

my visit, a convention to regulate their rival pretensions to the

possession of the territory on both sides of the Straits of Magellan,

which at one time threatened to engage the two states in war for a

worthless object. The new boundary-line is drawn along the middle of

the peninsula, ending in Cape Virgenes at the eastern entrance of

the Straits, thus leaving to Chili the whole of the northern shores.

Opposite to Cape Virgenes is a headland named Cape Espiritu Santo on

the main island of Tierra del Fuego. The boundary runs due south from

that point, cutting the island into two nearly equal parts, of which

the eastern half, along with Staten Island, is assigned to Argentaria.

As I understood from the conversation at dinner, Commander Pietrabona

had obtained from his government a grant or lease of Staten Island, but

it seems very doubtful whether any profit can be derived from an island

lying nearly three degrees further south than the Falklands, and fully

exposed to the antarctic current.

Amongst the various nationalities that met on this evening, the

representative of Germany, the captain of the port, was perhaps the

most typical. He is believed to have a more complete and accurate

knowledge of the coasts of the Straits of Magellan and of the Channels

of Patagonia than any other living man. The conversation was animated,

and not seldom turned on the topography of this region; but the

worthy Teuton sat obstinately silent, or, when directly appealed to,

generally answered by a single monosyllable of assent or negation. A

superficial observer would have set this down as evidence of a surly

or misanthropic disposition, but in truth this worthy man is noted for

good nature and a ready disposition to oblige his neighbours. Having

accepted the governor’s offer of a horse for an excursion on the

following day, I departed with the other guests, and once again enjoyed

the view of the southern heavens undefiled by a single cloud, and found

the mud of the streets frozen hard.

[_A WET DAY._]

The dawn of June 12 was again cloudless, and the circle of the red sun,

distorted by refraction, rose over the flats of Tierra del Fuego. But

in less than a quarter of an hour heavy leaden clouds gathered from all

sides and portended a stormy day. I felt rather unwell, and resolved to

postpone my intended excursion to the following day. After the needful

care given to my plant-collections, I repaired to the hospitable

sitting-room of Dr. Fenton, which was, I believe, the only moderately

warm spot at Punta Arenas, and passed the day in his company, or that

of Mrs. Fenton and their pretty and intelligent children. The heavy

rain which persisted nearly all day diminished my regret at having to

remain indoors. I made a few notes of the varied information which

I obtained from a gentleman who has had unusual opportunities for

acquiring knowledge, and who, although not a professed naturalist,

appears to be an accurate observer.

The Patagonian Indians who frequent Punta Arenas to dispose of skins

appear to be rapidly diminishing in numbers, and one good observer

believes that they are now to be counted rather by hundreds than by

thousands. The chief cause is doubtless the destructive effect of

ardent spirits. They commonly expend nearly everything they gain in

drink, but after recovering from a fit of beastly intoxication they

usually invest whatever money remains in English biscuits, which they

carry off to the interior. Here, as well as at many other places in

South America, I heard curious stories showing the extraordinary

estimation in which Messrs. Huntley and Palmer are held by the native

population. Among the curious customs of these Indians, Dr. Fenton told

me that as soon as a child is born one or more horses are assigned

to it as property, and if the child should die, as they often do,

prematurely, the horses are killed. He further says that a childless

Indian not rarely adopts a dog, the ceremony being marked by assigning

horses to the dog as his property, and that, as in the case of the

human child, at the dog’s death the horses are killed.

Agreeing with most of those who have observed the Fuegians in their

native home, Dr. Fenton is sceptical as to the possibility of raising

that hapless tribe above their present condition. All honour is due to

the devoted men who have laboured at the mission station at Ushuaia

in the Beagle Channel, and it may be that some partial success has

been obtained with children taken at an early age. But, looking around

at the multiplied needs of so many other less degraded branches of

our race, one is tempted to believe that such noble efforts might

more usefully be bestowed elsewhere. Dr. Fenton thinks that the fact,

which appears to be well attested, that Fuegians, in a rough sea, when

in danger in their frail canoes, have been known to throw an infant

overboard, is evidence that they believe in spirits, the child being

offered to appease the wrath of supernatural powers. I confess that I

place little reliance on the conclusions of civilized men as to the

ideas or motives of savage races in a condition so low that we have the

most imperfect means of communicating with them.

[_HABITS OF RHEA DARWINII._]

I was not able to ascertain positively whether the species of _rhea_,

or South American ostrich, found near the Straits of Magellan, is

exclusively the smaller species (_Rhea Darwinii_), but I believe there

is no doubt that the larger bird does not range so far as Southern

Patagonia. Dr. Fenton has had frequent opportunities for observing the

habits of the bird. He finds that the nests are constructed by the

female birds, three or four of these joining for the purpose. One of

them deposits a single egg in a hollow place, and over this the nest is

built. Each of the females deposits several eggs in the nest, and then

wanders away, the male bird sitting on the nest till the young birds

are hatched. When this happens the parent clears away the nest, breaks

up the egg which lay beneath it, and gives it to the young birds for

food. The flesh is described as delicious, somewhat intermediate in

flavour between hare and grouse.

Dr. Fenton had commenced the trial of an experiment which, if

successful, may hereafter attract settlers to the eastern shores of

the Straits of Magellan. The appearance of the country had already

shown to me that the climate is much drier here than on the western

side of Cape Froward, and I believe that the range above spoken of,

which divides this coast from Otway Water, is about the eastern limit

of the extension of the zone of continuous forests that cover all but

the higher levels of Western Patagonia. Between Peckett Harbour, about

forty miles north of Punta Arenas, and the Atlantic coast the country

is open and produces an abundance of coarse herbage. Sheep are known to

thrive in the Falkland Islands, about the same latitude, and Dr. Fenton

had recently procured from that place a flock which he had established

in the neighbourhood of Peckett Harbour.

I was warned that the English steamer might possibly arrive in the

afternoon of June 13, though more probably on the following day, so

that it was expedient to start early on the short excursion which I

proposed to make along the coast to the north of Punta Arenas. The

horses were ready soon after sunrise, and the governor’s secretary

was good enough to accompany me. After fording the stream which flows

by the settlement, we for some distance followed the sandy beach,

dismounting here and there to examine the vegetation. Few plants could

at this season be found in a state in which they could be certainly

identified, but there was quite enough to reward a naturalist. It

was very interesting to find here several cosmopolitan species whose

diffusion cannot, I think, be set down to the agency of man. Of these

I may reckon _Plantago maritima_, and a slight variety of our common

sea-pink (_Armeria maritima_, var. _andina_). To these I am disposed

to add _Rumex acetosella_, which I found creeping in the sand far

from the settlement, and a form of the common dandelion (_Taraxacum

lævigatum_ of botanists). Along with these were several representatives

of the antarctic flora--a _Colobanthus_, three species of _Acæna_,

a _Gunnera_, an _Ourisia_, and several others. Of bushes the most

conspicuous are the berberries, of which I found three species. One of

these, which I had already seen in the Channels, has leaves like those

of a holly, and is appropriately named _Berberis ilicifolia_. Another,

which is very common here (_Berberis buxifolia_), has sweet berries,

pleasant to the taste; and the third (_B. empetrifolia_) is a dwarf

bush, scarcely a foot high, which seems to be confined to the sandy

shore. A taller shrub, which I had seen in the Channels as well as in

this neighbourhood (_Maytenus Magellanica_ of botanists), is called

_Leña dura_, and is valued for the hardness of the wood, useful for

many small articles. The genus extends throughout South America, but

most of the species inhabit tropical Brazil, and we may look on this as

the solitary representative of the tropical flora which has reached the

southern extremity of the continent.

[_BOTANICAL EXCURSION._]

Having collected whatever was to be found close to the shore, I

proposed to strike inland towards the base of the low hills. The

country near was a dead flat, and seemed to offer no obstacle. After

riding for about a mile over dry ground, we gradually found ourselves

in the midst of shallow pools of water, now frozen over. As we

advanced progress became more and more difficult. The heavy rain of

the preceding day had partially melted the ice. In some places it was

strong enough to bear the horses; but it constantly broke under their

feet, and they became restive, very naturally objecting to this mode

of travelling. After a while, to my surprise, we struck upon a cart

track. This, as I soon saw, led to two or three houses inhabited by

a few Swiss settlers, who endeavoured to make a living by raising

some vegetables for Punta Arenas. The soil appeared to be rich: in

this climate few plants can mature fruit or seed, but the more hardy

European vegetables thrive sufficiently. Our difficulties were by no

means at an end. The cart track was a mass of half-frozen mud, with

holes fully two feet deep, into which the horses plunged, until at

last it was not easy to persuade them to move in any direction. I

dismounted and ascended a hillock some eighty feet above the plain,

but on all sides could see no issue from the maze of shallow frozen

pools. With some trouble we reached one of the houses, but, in answer

to our inquiries, were told that they knew of no better way to Punta

Arenas than by the cart track. Apprehending the arrival of the Pacific

Company’s steamer, and not wishing to remain another fortnight in this

remote region, I resolved to return as best we could, and, as always

happens, experience enabled both horses and riders to avoid the worst

places, so that we got through better than we had expected.

Having made all ready for the possible arrival of the steamer, whose

stay is usually very short, I again enjoyed the hospitality of

the governor, and once more found myself in the agreeable society

of Signor Vinciguerra. One of the many laudable characteristics of

Chilian society, in striking contrast with their kinsmen in Spain,

is the genuine anxiety commonly shown for the education of the

rising generation. It is, indeed, rather amusing to note the tone of

contemptuous pity with which the Chilians of pure Spanish descent speak

of their European cousins, who are usually denominated “los Gotos.” The

governor’s eldest son had been sent to Germany to pursue his studies,

and the services of a young German, who apparently had got into some

scrape connected with politics in his own country, had been secured

to conduct the education of the younger children. Before dinner the

preceptor was engaged in guiding the fingers of one child upon an old

pianoforte, and immediately after dinner lessons were resumed with the

other children.

[_ZEAL FOR EDUCATION._]

In the course of the evening we had a curious illustration of the

difficulty of speaking correctly two closely allied dialects.

Conversing in Italian with Signor Vinciguerra, a laugh was raised

against me for introducing a Spanish word into a sentence; but this was

redoubled when, a few minutes later, my Italian friend did exactly the

same thing.

Thought is inextricably linked with the impressions derived from the

senses, which, excepting with the deaf and dumb, are ordinarily based

upon language; and whenever a man speaks with even moderate fluency the

fact implies that he thinks in that language. The effort of changing

from one language to that of another is that of changing, so to say,

the channel through which thought runs. When they are sufficiently

different there is no difficulty in maintaining thought within the

assigned channel; but when the languages, or dialects, are nearly

alike, it is much more difficult to maintain the intended course. It

seems to me, indeed, that there is a link of association not only

between the idea and the word, but also with the sound of the word.

There is comparatively little difficulty in passing from one language

to another, though etymologically near akin, when the prevailing sounds

are different. Thus, although Portuguese and Spanish are so nearly

allied, it is easier to pass from one to the other than from Spanish

to Italian, because the phonetic differences are greater in the former

case.

The night passed without disturbance, though I had made all ready in

case of being summoned to embark; but as the arrival of the steamer

was confidently predicted, I completed my arrangements, and removed my

luggage to the office of the port captain on the morning of the 14th.

The weather was nearly quite dry all day, with a prevailing sharp wind

from the south-west, varied by two or three abrupt changes. I did not

venture to go into the country, and contented myself with trotting

up and down, mainly with the object of keeping myself warm. Evening

closed; but no steamer appeared, and I accepted Dr. Fenton’s offer of a

sofa in his sitting-room for the night, whereon to await the expected

summons. Towards four o’clock I sallied forth, without disturbing the

household. Profound silence prevailed throughout the settlement; the

stars of the southern hemisphere beamed with extraordinary brilliancy,

and the muddy streets were iron-bound with frost. After another doze on

the sofa, I again went out at dawn, and enjoyed a beautiful sunrise.

[_WRECK OF THE “DOTEREL.”_]

The morning of June 15 was unusually favourable for distant views.

Beyond the low, bare flats of Tierra del Fuego there showed to the

south-east a range of hills, or mountains, whose heights I estimated at

from 3500 to 4000 feet, but it is needless to say that, with unfamiliar

atmospheric conditions, where the judgment as to distance is so

uncertain, such an estimate is quite unreliable. Nearly due south lies

Dawson Island, and several high summits were visible in that direction,

but I do not believe that either Mount Darwin or Mount Sarmiento are

visible from this part of the coast.

During the day I went a short way along the shore to the south,

passing the cemetery wherein lie the bodies recovered from the wreck

of the _Doterel_. The origin of the explosion which caused that ship

to go down with all hands within sight of the settlement, was long a

matter of doubt. The most probable opinion is that it was due to the

spontaneous ignition of gas generated in unventilated coal-bunkers.

Nearly opposite lay the hull of another ship which became a partial

wreck on this coast. It contained a cargo of Welsh coal, which is sold

at the heavy price of four pounds a ton, and occasionally serves for

steamers whose supply has run short.

Along the sandy shores the most conspicuous plant, with large

white cottony leaves, is a species of _Senecio_ (_S. candidans_

of botanists), which, with nearly twenty others, represents that

cosmopolitan genus in this region. What light would be thrown on the

past history of the vegetable kingdom if we could learn the origin

of that vast genus, and the processes by which it has been diffused

throughout the world! Of about nine hundred known species that extend

from the Arctic Circle to high southern latitudes, and from the highest

zone of the Alps, the Himalayas and the Andes, to the low country of

Brazil and the scorching plains of North and South Africa, the great

majority are confined to small areas, and are unusually constant in

structure, thus presenting a marked contrast to the ordinary rule,

dwelt on by Darwin, that among genera that extend over a large portion

of earth and have numerous species, the species, or many of them, are

themselves widely spread and vary much in form. Neither do we find

among the crowd of species many indications of the general tendency

to form groups of species nearly allied in appearance and structure

within the same geographical area. Many of the very numerous South

American species are nearly allied to European and Asiatic forms. Thus

in the comparatively small area of Europe we find the representatives

of groups characteristic of regions widely separated, and even in

the poverty-stricken flora of Britain such different forms as the

common groundsel, the ragwort of neglected fields, and the less common

_Senecio paludosus_, and _S. campestris_.

[_PACIFIC STEAMER DELAYED._]

The day wore on, and yet no steamer appeared. Knowing people began

to speculate on the possibility of some accident having delayed her

arrival, or surmised the prevalence of such thick weather about the

western entrance to the Straits as might have led her commander to make

the circuit by Cape Horn. In the latter case, I should be detained for

another fortnight, and although I should have gladly seen something

more of the country, and found myself meantime fortunate in pleasant

society, I did not in this season desire so long a delay. Once more I

betook myself at night to the sofa in Dr. Fenton’s hospitable house,

and at length, about four in the morning, a tapping at the window

announced that the lights of the steamer were in view. Dr. Fenton,

who wished to go on board, was speedily ready, and we went to the

landing-place where, until the jetée, still in construction, should

be finished, the boats are run up on the sandy beach. There was some

delay in finding the key of the store where my luggage was housed, but

at last we were ready to start. The boat, however, was fast aground on

the flat margin of the bay; in vain the four boatmen shoved with their

oars, until the taciturn port captain barked out the order to get into

the water and shove her off. It was freezing hard, and I fear the poor

fellows wished me and my luggage no good when, after much striving,

we were finally afloat, and they resumed their places at the oars. In

the dark the great hull loomed gigantic as, about five a.m., we pulled

alongside of the steamer, which turned out to be the _Iberia_, one of

the largest and finest vessels of the Pacific Company, commanded by

Captain Shannon.

Having learned that the steamer had been detained by very heavy weather

in the South Pacific, and had had great difficulty in making Cape

Pillar, the western landmark of the Straits, I bade farewell to my

kind host, and sought for quarters in the great floating hotel. There

is something depressing in arriving in a place of entertainment on

a cold night, when it is obvious that one’s appearance is neither

expected nor desired. After a while a steward, scarcely half awake,

made his appearance, and arranged my berth. I soon turned in, and slept

until near nine o’clock, when we were already well on our way towards

the Atlantic opening of the Straits. The morning was bright and not

very cold, and for the first time since I entered this region the

weather remained unchanged during the day, and the sky clear, with the

exception of heavy banks of cloud which showed in the afternoon above

the southern and western horizon.

In the morning, when about twenty miles north of Sandy Point, and

nearly abreast of Peckett Harbour, the unmistakable peak of Mount

Sarmiento was for a short time distinctly seen. It is needless to say

that this was due to atmospheric refraction, for the distance was

rather over a hundred English miles, and in a non-refracting atmosphere

a mountain seven thousand feet high would be below the visible horizon

at a distance of about eighty-five miles. Of Mount Darwin, which is

believed to be the highest summit of the Fuegian Archipelago, I was not

destined to see anything; it is probably completely concealed by the

range which runs across the main island of Tierra del Fuego.

[_RE-ENTERING THE ATLANTIC._]

The scenery of the eastern side of the Straits of Magellan offers

little to attract the eye, the shores on both sides being low and

little varied. From Cape Froward to Peckett Harbour the Patagonian

coast runs nearly due north, and then trends east-north-east for about

seventy miles, where the channel is contracted between the northern

shore and Elizabeth Island. After passing the island, we entered the

part called “The Narrows,” where the Fuegian coast approaches very near

to the mainland of the continent. As the day was declining, we issued

from this channel into a bay fully thirty miles wide, partly closed by

two headlands, which are the landmarks for seamen entering the Straits

from the Atlantic. That on the Fuegian side is Cape Espiritu Santo, and

the bolder promontory on the northern side is the Cape Virgenes. To a

detached rock below the headland English seamen have given the name

Dungeness. In the failing light, I could see that the coast westward

from Cape Virgenes rises into hills, which appeared to be bare of

forest. I should guess their height not to exceed two thousand feet, if

it even reaches that limit.

It was almost quite dark when we finally re-entered the Atlantic,

and found its waters in a very gentle mood. In these latitudes the

name Pacific is not well applied to any part of that which the older

navigators more fittingly designated the Southern Ocean.

It was impossible to live for more than a week in winter, at the

southern extremity of the American continent, without having one’s

attention engaged by the singular features of the climate of this

region, and especially by their bearing on wider questions which have

of late years assumed fresh importance. Mainly through the writings

of Dr. James Croll, and the remarkable ability and perseverance with

which he has sustained his views, geologists and students of every

other branch of natural science have learned to estimate the influence

which the secular changes in the eccentricity of the earth’s orbit

may have exercised on the physical condition of our planet. I have

ventured, in the Appendix, to discuss some portions of the vast range

of subjects treated of by Dr. Croll,[36] and to state the reasons which

force me to dissent from some of his conclusions; but I shall here

merely say that the impressions derived from my own short experience

have been confirmed by subsequent diligent inquiry, and especially by

the writings of Dr. Julius Hann, most of which have been published

since my return to England.

The belief that the mean temperature of the southern is considerably

lower than that of the northern hemisphere was, until recently,

prevalent among physical geographers, and has been assumed as an

undoubted fact by Dr. Croll. He accounts for it by the predominance

of warm ocean-currents that pass from the southern to the northern

hemisphere within the tropics, and which, as he maintains, ultimately

carry a great portion of the heat of the equatorial regions to the

north Temperate and Frigid Zones. I think that this belief, as well

as many others regarding physical geography, originated in the fact

that physical science in its more exact form, had its birth in Western

Europe, a region which, especially as to climate, is altogether

exceptional in its character. The further our knowledge, yet too

limited, has extended in the southern hemisphere the less ground we

find for a belief in the supposed inferiority of its mean temperature.

What we do find, in exact conformity with obvious physical principles,

is that in the hemisphere where the water surface largely predominates

over that of land, the temperature is much more uniform than where the

land occupies the larger portion of the surface. In the former, the

heat of summer is mainly expended in the work of converting water into

vapour, and partially restored in winter in the conversion of vapour

into water or ice.

[_TEMPERATURE OF SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE._]

We unfortunately possess but three stations in the southern hemisphere,

south of the fiftieth degree of latitude, from which meteorological

observations are available, and these are all in the same vicinity--the

Falkland Islands, Punta Arenas, and Ushuaja, the mission station in

the Beagle Channel at the south side of the main island of Tierra del

Fuego. The following table shows the mean temperature of the year at

these stations in degrees of Fahrenheit’s scale.

South latitude. Mean temperature of year.

Falklands 51° 41′ about 43·00°

Punta Arenas 53° 25′ 43·52°

Ushuaja 54° 53′ 42·39°

If we compare these with the results of observations at places on the

east side of continents in the northern hemisphere, we find the latter

to show a very much more rigorous climate. Nikolaiewsk, near the mouth

of the Amur, in lat. 52° 8′ north, has a mean annual temperature of

32·4° Fahr.; and at Hopedale, in Labrador, lat. 55° 35′, the mean is

certainly not higher than 26° Fahr. Even in the island of Anticosti,

at the mouth of the St. Lawrence, lat. 49° 24′ north, the main yearly

temperature is only 35·8°, or more than 70 below that of the Falkland

Islands. But it may be truly said that, although the stations now under

discussion are on the eastern side of the South American continent,

they virtually enjoy an insular climate, and that there is probably

little difference between their temperature and that of places on the

west side of the Straits of Magellan.

On comparing the few places out of Europe from which we possess

observations in high northern latitudes, I think that the station which

admits of the fairest comparison is that of Unalaschka in the North

Pacific. The observations at Illiluk in that island, in lat. 53° 53′

north, show a mean annual temperature of only 38·2° Fahr., while at

Ushuaja, 1° farther from the equator, the mean temperature is higher

by more that 4°. It is true that at Sitka, in lat. 57° north, we find

a mean temperature of 43·28° Fahr., or about the same as that of the

Falklands. But the position of Sitka is quite exceptional. It is

completely removed from the influence of the cold currents that descend

through Behring’s Straits, and a great mountain range protects it from

northerly winds; south-westerly winds prevail throughout the year, and

a very heavy rainfall, averaging annually eighty-one inches, imports to

the air a large portion of heat derived from equatorial regions. On the

coast of Western Patagonia and Southern Chili, this source of heat is

partly counteracted by the cold antarctic current that sets along the

western coast of South America.

[_VOYAGE TO MONTE VIDEO._]

The general conclusion, which seems to be fully established, is that

the southern hemisphere is not colder than the northern, and that all

arguments based upon an opposite assumption must be set aside.

Among the passengers on board the _Iberia_ were a large proportion

of ladies and children, the families of English merchants settled in

Chili. They had been miserable enough during the three or four days

before entering the Straits. The weather had been very severe, and,

large as is the vessel, heavy seas constantly broke over her upper

deck, so that even the most adventurous were confined to the cabins,

very many to their berths. The change to quiet waters and brighter

skies acted like a charm, and the spirits of the passengers rose even

more than the barometer. The children naturally became irrepressible,

and left not a quiet corner in the whole ship. Having first invaded the

smoking-cabin and made it the chief _depôt_ for their toys and games,

they next took possession of a small tent rigged up on the upper deck,

to which the ejected smokers had retired. There are moments in such a

voyage when one thinks that half a gale of wind with a cross sea would

not be altogether unwelcome.

If such a perverse wish did arise in any breast, it was certainly

disappointed. The voyage to Monte Video was uneventful, and offered

little of special interest, but the weather was throughout fine. On the

second day we met a slight breeze from the north, causing a decided

rise of temperature and a fall of the barometer, but only a few drops

of rain fell; and then, after returning to the normal temperature, the

thermometer rose steadily as we advanced daily about four degrees of

latitude. It may be worth while to give the following extract from my

notes, observing that on board ship temperature observations are merely

rough approximations. Those best admitting comparison are made about a

quarter of an hour after sunset, the precise hour, of course, varying

with the latitude, of which I give only a rough estimate.

--------+--------+----------+------------+------------

Date. | Time. | Latitude.| Barometer. | Thermometer

| | | | (Fahr.).

--------+--------+----------+------------+------------

June 16 | Sunset | 52° 30′ | 30·06 in. | 37·5°

” 17 | Noon | 50° | 29·68 ” | 48·5°

| Sunset | | 29·70 ” | 48·0°

” 18 | Noon | 46° | 29·90 ” | 50·5°

| Sunset | | 29·90 ” | 45·2°

” 19 | 9 a.m. | | 29·90 ” | 52·0°

| Noon | 42° | 29·86 ” |

| Sunset | | 29·88 ” | 48·0°

” 20 |10 a.m. | 38° 20′ | 29·88 ” |

| Sunset | | 29·83 ” | 54·0°

--------+--------+----------+------------+------------

Favoured by clear weather, we occasionally had glimpses of projecting

headlands on the Patagonian coast, and especially on the 19th, when we

made out the promontory of San José on the south side of the wide and

deep Bay of San Matias, and later in the same day sighted some hills

on the north side of the same gulf near the mouth of the Rio Colorado,

the chief of Patagonian rivers.[37] As far as I could discern, the

sea-birds that approached the ship were the same species which had

visited us on the Pacific coast, cape pigeons being as before the most

numerous and persevering.

[_ESTUARY OF LA PLATA._]

At sunrise on the shortest day we were approaching the city of Monte

Video. Covering a hill some three hundred feet in height, and spreading

along the shore at its base, the town presents a rather imposing

aspect. It looks over the opening of the vast estuary of La Plata,

fully sixty miles wide, into which the great rivers of the southern

half of the continent discharge themselves. From the detritus borne

down by these streams the vast plains that occupy the larger part of

the Argentine territory have been formed in recent geological times,

but the alluvial deposits have not yet filled up the gulf that receives

the two great streams of the Paranà and the Uruguay. It would seem,

however, that that consummation is rapidly approaching. Extensive

banks, reaching nearly to the surface at low water, occupy large

portions of the great estuary, and the navigable channel is so shallow

that large ships are forced to anchor twelve or fourteen miles below

Buenos Ayres, and even at Monte Video cannot approach nearer than two

miles from the landing-place.

A small steam-tender came off to convey passengers to the city, and,

with very little delay at the custom-house, I proceeded to the Hotel

de la Paix, a French house, to which I was recommended. In spite of

the irregularity of the ground, the city is laid out on the favourite

Spanish chess-board plan, in _quadras_ of nearly equal size. The main

streets run parallel to the shore, and, being nearly level, are well

supplied with tramcars; but the cross streets are mostly steep and

badly paved. The flat roofs of the houses, enjoying a wide sea-view,

are the favourite resort of the inmates in fine weather, and many of

them have a _mirador_, roofed in and windowed on all sides, whence idle

people may enjoy the view sheltered from sun or rain. A stranger is at

once struck by one marked difference between the towns on the Atlantic

coast and those on the western side of South America. Here people live

free from the constant dread of earthquakes, and do not shrink from

making their town houses as high as may be convenient; but the towns

become more crowded, and one misses the charming _patios_ of the better

houses of Santiago and Lima.

To a traveller fresh from Peru and Chili and Western Patagonia, the

region which I now entered, with its boundless spaces of plain and

its huge rivers, appears by comparison tame and unattractive to the

lover of nature. It is true that the industrial development of the

last quarter of a century has been almost as rapid here as in the

great republic of North America. The great plains are now traversed

by numerous lines of railway, and steamers ply on the greater rivers

and several of their tributaries. A naturalist may now accomplish in a

few weeks, and at a trifling cost, expeditions that formerly demanded

years of laborious travel. The southern slopes of the Bolivian Andes,

stretching into the Argentine States of Salta, Oran, and Jujuy, are

easily reached by the railway to Tucuman; and yet easier is the

journey by the Paraguay river steamers that carry him over seventeen

hundred miles of waterway to Cuyabà, in Central Brazil, the chief town

of the great province of Matto Grosso. But the time at my disposal

was strictly limited, and the coming glories of Brazil haunted my

imagination, so that I had no difficulty in deciding to make but a

brief halt in this part of the continent, limiting myself to a short

excursion on the river Uruguay and a glimpse of Buenos Ayres.

[_CLIMATE OF URUGUAY._]

Of three days passed at Monte Video a considerable portion was occupied

by the English newspapers, full of intelligence of deep and chiefly of

painful interest; but I twice had a pleasant walk in the country near

the city. Some heavy rain had fallen before my arrival, and the roads,

which are ill kept, were deep in mire; but the winter season in this

region is very agreeable, and the favourable impression made during my

short stay was confirmed by the general testimony of the residents as

to the salubrity of the climate. The winter temperature is about the

same as in the same latitude on the Chilian coast, but the summers are

warmer by 9° or 10° Fahr., and the mean temperature of the year fully

5° higher, being here about 62° Fahr. We are, however, far removed

from the great contrasts of temperature that are found on the eastern

side of North America. At Monte Video the difference between the means

of the hottest and coldest months is 22°, while in the same latitude

on the coast of North Carolina the difference is fully 35°. On the

whole, the climate most nearly resembles that of places on the coast of

Algeria, especially that of Oran, save that in the latter place the

winters are slightly colder and the summer months somewhat hotter.

The town is surrounded by country houses belonging to the merchants

and other residents, each with a _quinta_ (garden or pleasure-ground),

in which a variety of subtropical plants seem to thrive. Comparatively

few of the indigenous plants showed flower or fruit, certainly less

than one is used to see in winter nearer home on the shores of

the Mediterranean. But a small proportion of the ground is under

tillage, and beyond the zone of houses and gardens one soon reaches

the open country, which extends through nearly all the territory of

the republic. The English residents have adopted the Spanish term

(_campo_), which is universally applied in this region of America to

the open country whereon cattle are pastured, and the stranger does not

at first well understand the question when asked whether he is “going

to the camp.”

The only fences used in a region where wood of every kind is scarce are

posts about six feet high, connected by three or four strands of stout

iron wire. These are set at distances of some miles apart, and serve to

keep the cattle of each _estancia_ from straying. It is said that when

these fences were first introduced, many animals were killed or maimed

by running at full speed against the iron wires, but that such cases

have now become rare. The more intelligent or more cautious individuals

avoided the danger, and have transmitted their qualities to a majority

of their offspring.

At the hospitable table of the British minister, Mr. Monson, I met

among other guests Mr. E----, one of the principal English merchants,

whose kindness placed me under several obligations. On the following

day he introduced me to an enterprising Italian, whose name deserves

to be remembered in connection with modern exploration of the coasts

of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. Signor Bartolomeo Bossi, who

emigrated early in life to South America, seems to be a born explorer,

and whenever he has laid by sufficient funds for the purpose he has

forsaken other pursuits to start upon some expedition to new or little

known parts of the continent. In a small steamer of 220 tons, fitted

out at his own cost, he has in two expeditions minutely explored the

intricate coasts of the Fuegian Archipelago and a great portion of the

Channels of Patagonia.

[_SIGNOR BARTOLOMEO BOSSI._]

Several of the discoveries interesting to navigators made in the

course of the first of these voyages were published in the _Noticias

Hidrograficas_ of the Chilian naval department for 1876, and Signor

Bossi asserts that the chief motive that determined the English

admiralty in despatching the surveying expedition of the _Alert_ was

to verify the announcements first made by him. I have not seen any

reference to Signor Bossi in the interesting volume, “The Cruise of the

_Alert_,” by Dr. Coppinger; but it appears certain that many of the

observations recorded in the Santiago _Noticias_ have been accepted,

and are embodied in the most recent charts.

In this part of America the Republic of Uruguay is commonly designated

as the Banda Oriental, because it lies altogether on the eastern bank

of that great river. It possesses great natural advantages--fine

climate, sufficiently fertile soil, ready access by water to a

vast region of the continent, along with a favourable position for

intercourse with Europe. But these privileges are made almost valueless

by human perversity. The military element, which has been allowed

to dominate in the republic, is the constant source of social and

political disorder. A stable administration is unknown, for each

successful general who reaches the presidential chair must fail to

satisfy all the greedy partisans who demand a share of the loaves and

fishes. After a short time it becomes the turn of a rival, who, with

loud promises of reform, and flights of patriotic rhetoric, raises the

standard of revolt. If he can succeed in getting enough of the troops

to join him, the revolution is made, and Uruguay has a new president,

whose history will be a repetition of that of his predecessors. If the

pretender should fail, he is summarily shot, unless he be fortunate

enough to make his escape into the adjoining territories of Brazil or

Argentaria.

On the day after my arrival the news of a rising headed by a popular

colonel reached the capital, and troops were sent off in some haste

to suppress the revolt. In each case the existence of the Government

depends on the uncertain contingency whether the troops will remain

faithful or will hearken to the fair promises of the new candidate for

power.

It is obvious that a country in a chronic condition of disorder is a

very inconvenient neighbour, and Uruguay would long have ceased to

exist as a separate government, if it were not for the jealousy of

the two powerful adjoining states. Brazil and Argentaria[38] are

each ready and willing to put down the _enfant terrible_, but neither

would tolerate the annexation by its rival of such a desirable piece

of territory. The prospect of a long and sanguinary war has hitherto

withheld the Governments of Rio and Buenos Ayres, and secured, for a

time, immunity to Uruguayan disorder.

[_NIGHT IN THE ESTUARY._]

I had arranged to start on the 24th of June, in the steamer which plies

between Monte Video and the Lower Uruguay. That day being one of the

many festas that protect men of business in South America from the risk

of overwork, banks and offices were closed, and but for the kindness

of Mr. E---- I should have found it difficult to carry out my plan. I

went on board in the afternoon, and found a small crowded vessel, not

promising much comfort to the passengers, but offering the additional

prospect of safe guidance which every Briton finds on board a ship

commanded by a fellow-countryman.

The sun set in a misty sky as we left our moorings and began to advance

at half speed into the wide estuary of La Plata. As night fell the

mist grew denser, and during the night and following morning we were

immersed in a thick white fog. It was in reality a feat of seamanship

that was accomplished by our captain. The great estuary of La Plata,

gradually narrowing from about sixty miles opposite Monte Video

to about sixteen at Buenos Ayres, is almost everywhere shallow and

beset by sand or mudbanks, between which run the navigable channels.

According to their draught, the ships that conduct the extensive trade

between Buenos Ayres and Europe are spread over the space below the

city, the larger being forced to anchor at a distance of fourteen

miles. To avoid the banks, and to escape collision with the ships in

the water-way, in the midst of a fog so dense was no easy matter. It

is needless to say the utmost caution was observed. We crept on gently

through the night, and at daybreak approached the anchorage of the

large ships. Our captain seemed to be perfectly acquainted with the

exact position of every one of them, and, as with increasing light he

was able to recognize near objects, each in turn served as a buoy to

mark out the true channel. Soon after sunrise we reached the moorings,

about two miles from the landing-place, and lay there for a couple of

hours, while the Buenos Ayres passengers and goods were conveyed to us

in a steam-tender. It was a new experience to know one’s self so close

to a great and famous city without the possibility of distinguishing

any object.

At about ten a.m. we were again under steam and making for the mouth of

the Uruguay on the northern side of the great estuary. The fog began

to clear, and finally disappeared when, a little before noon, we were

about to enter the waters of the mighty stream, which is, after all,

no more than a tributary of the still mightier Paranà.[39] Just at

this point, signals and shouts from a very small steamer induced our

captain to slacken speed. The strangers urgently appealed to him to

take on board some cargo for a place on the river, the name of which

escaped me. To this request a polite but very decided refusal was

returned, the prudence of which we afterwards appreciated. The cargo in

question doubtless consisted of arms, ammunition, or other stores for

the use of the revolutionary force supposed to be gathered at Mercedes,

not far from the junction of the Rio Negro with the Uruguay, and it

clearly behoved the steamboat company to avoid being involved in such

enterprises.

[_THE URUGUAY RIVER._]

At its mouth the Uruguay has a width of several--probably seven or

eight--miles, and at the confluence of the Rio Negro, some fifty miles

up stream, the breadth must be nearly half as much. The water at this

time was high, as heavy rain had fallen in the interior, and the

current had a velocity of about three miles an hour. I believe that

it is only exceptionally, during unusually dry seasons, that tidal

water enters the channels of the Paranà or the Uruguay. I was struck

by the frequent passage of large green masses of foliage that floated

past as we ascended the river. Some consisted of entire trees or large

boughs, but several others appeared to be formed altogether of masses

of herbaceous vegetation twined together or adhering by the tangled

roots. It can easily be imagined that, where portions of the bank have

been undermined and fall into a stream, the soil is washed away from

the roots, and the whole may be floated down the stream and even

carried out to sea. The efficacy of this mode of transport as one of

the means for the dispersion of plants is now generally recognized,

and, considering that the basin of the Paranà covers a space of over

twenty-one degrees of latitude, we must admit the probability that it

has had a large part in the diffusion of many tropical and subtropical

species to the southern part of the continent.

The Rio Negro, which drains about half the territory of the republic,

is the chief affluent of the Uruguay. At the junction we met a small

steamer which plies to and fro on the tributary stream, and some time

was lost in effecting the exchange of passengers and cargo. From

some new-comers we gathered rather vague reports as to the attempted

revolution. The chief was a certain Colonel Maximo Perez, already well

known in Uruguayan political life. I have already explained that the

term in this country means the effort to use the soldiery to upset the

existing administration, or, if you happen to be in power, to, employ

the same agency to make short work of your rivals. It was generally

thought that Perez had made the mistake of raising the standard too

soon, and must fail. This anticipation was soon verified, and before

I left the country two reports, each equally authentic, reached the

capital--the one that he had made his escape, the other that he had

been shot. To the community it was a matter of indifference which story

might be true: in the one case, he would appear again to renew the

revolt; in the other, some new adventurer would take his place.

A few miles above the confluence of the Rio Negro we reached Fray

Bentos, the great factory where “Liebig’s Extract of Beef” is prepared

and sent to Europe. Whatever prosperity exists in the Banda Oriental

depends altogether on beef. To the raising of horned cattle the greater

part of the soil of the republic is devoted, and in caring and guarding

them most of the rural population is employed. The _saladeros_, where

the animals are slaughtered and the various parts converted to human

use, are the chief, almost the only, industrial establishments, and it

is their produce that supports the trade and navigation.

[_ISLANDS OF THE URUGUAY._]

Though the channel is narrower above the junction of the Rio Negro, the

Uruguay was still a mighty river, from one to two miles in width, with

numerous islands, all covered with trees and seemingly uninhabited. The

trees on the islands and along the banks are mostly small, about thirty

feet in height, but on some of the islands they must certainly surpass

fifty feet. It was impossible for a passing stranger to identify the

unfamiliar forms of these trees, which seemed to present considerable

variety, the more so as the majority appeared to be deciduous, and but

a few withered leaves remained on the nearly bare branches.

Paisandu, the place of my destination, is about a hundred and fifty

miles from the mouth of the river, and the steamer often accomplishes

the distance in fourteen hours. I was led to hope that we should

arrive soon after midnight, but as night fell a dense fog spread over

the river. Further progress was impossible, and we dropped anchor in

mid-channel. With sunrise the fog quickly melted away, and the turning

of the screw soon announced that we had resumed our journey. Up to

this point the banks of the river on either side had been absolutely

flat, but at an early hour on the 26th we for the first time were

relieved by the appearance of some rising ground on the east side of

the river. There was nothing deserving to be called a hill, but so

impatient is human nature of the monotony of dead-level, that even a

rise of a couple of hundred feet is a welcome alleviation. A house on

the summit, which must command a vast range of view, appeared to be the

only desirable residence I had yet seen in this region. The dead-level

soon resumed its place on the eastern bank; but a few miles farther we

began to descry a range of low hills on the opposite, or Argentine,

bank of the stream. We had hitherto held no communication with the

territory on that side, but before noon we dropped anchor opposite to

the landing-place for the town of Concepcion. This is one of the chief

places in the state of Entrerios, which, as the name implies, fills the

space between the two great rivers, Paranà and Uruguay, and extends

northward about two hundred and forty miles from the estuary of La

Plata. The town stands on a low hill about two miles from the river.

Some passengers went ashore, a few were taken in their place, and after

a short delay the screw was again in motion and the voyage was resumed.

About two p.m. we were at length opposite to Paisandu, a name known

to most English readers only by the ox-tongues prepared at the

neighbouring _saladeros_. One of the peculiarities of this region

arises from the fact that in the estuary and along the lower course of

the great rivers the banks shelve so gradually that boats are seldom

able to approach the shore. Elsewhere the inhabitants would make

provision by constructing long jetties carried far enough to enable

boats to draw alongside. But suitable timber is said to be scarce and

very dear, and, besides, such constructions would deprive a part of the

population of their means of gaining a livelihood. Carts with a pair of

enormous wheels, seven or eight feet in diameter, are driven into the

water till it reaches nearly to the shafts, and passengers scramble as

best they may into or out of the boats. In this novel fashion I reached

the shore, with one or two other passengers.

[_PAISANDU._]

Paisandu has the aspect of a thriving country town, with streets and

buildings of plain aspect, but looking clean and well cared for. It

stands on rising ground, which is not a hill, but merely the river-ward

slope of the flat country through which the Uruguay has here scooped a

broad trench about a hundred feet below the general level. I found a

very fair country inn kept by an Englishman, and at once proceeded to

deliver a note of introduction to Dr. French, an English physician who

enjoys considerable local reputation. The days being short at a season

corresponding to our European Christmas, it was already too late for

an excursion to the neighbouring country, which was postponed till the

following morning; and I passed the greater part of the afternoon and

evening in the agreeable society of Dr. French, whose range of general

information, and thorough acquaintance with the country which he has

made his home, rendered his conversation interesting and instructive.

Many Englishmen seem to imagine that, at least as regards material

progress, distant countries, with the possible exception of the United

States, are much less advanced than we are at home. I was led to an

opposite conclusion as far as the more advanced states of South America

are concerned, and I was struck by one illustration of the fact that

I encountered at Paisandu. In the course of my long conversation with

Dr. French, we were three times interrupted by the tinkling of a little

bell connected with telephone wires carried into his sitting-room. I

learned that a wire was carried from each of the chief _estancias_

and _saladeros_ within a circuit of eight or ten miles from the town.

On each occasion advice was sought and obtained as to some case of

sickness or accident, and it was impossible not to be struck by the

great addition thus made to the usefulness of a skilful medical adviser

in country districts. With regard to this and other applications of

the telephone and the electric telegraph, our backward condition may

be explained by the extraordinary fact that the English people have

tolerated the existence of a Government monopoly, which, in many cases,

acts as a prohibition; but in other matters, such as electric lighting,

our relative inferiority must be set down to the extreme slowness with

which new ideas germinate and reach maturity in the English nature.

I was much interested by the information given to me by Dr. French

as to the frequent occurrence of the fossil remains of large extinct

mammalia in this district. Complete skeletons are, of course, not

commonly found; but large bones in good condition are, as I learned,

easily procured. My stay was necessarily so short that I could not

expect to obtain any, but I entertained a hope, not yet realized, that

through the kind intervention of Dr. French, some valuable specimens

might be obtained for the Cambridge University Museum. But to complete

our knowledge of the very singular extinct fauna of this region of

America, prolonged research on the spot, conducted by experienced

palæontologists, is a necessary condition. These plains are the

cemeteries in which myriads of extinct creatures lie entombed. We

probably have got to know the majority of the larger species, but it is

probable that many others have as yet escaped the notice of naturalists.

[_FOSSIL REMAINS IN URUGUAY._]

The steamer in which I had travelled ascends the river as far as Salto,

about sixty miles above Paisandu; but at that place the navigation is

interrupted by rapids, and travellers pursue their journey by land

until they reach the steamers that ply on the upper waters of the

Uruguay. I should have wished to visit Salto, but the steamer was to

arrive at night and to depart on the return voyage next morning. By

stopping at Paisandu I secured the opportunity for seeing a little of

the country and the vegetation.

By way of seeing something of the natives, Dr. French took me to

one of the best houses in the town, and introduced me to one of his

patients, an old lady ninety years of age. She did much credit to the

skill of her medical adviser, as I found her full of life and activity,

conversing freely and intelligently on the topics of the day. In the

garden surrounding her house were a number of orange trees in full

bearing, and, amongst other exotics, the largest tree of _Eucalyptus

globulus_ that I have yet seen, though planted, as the old lady assured

me, only twenty years before.

It was announced that the return steamer was due at two p.m. on June

27, so I arranged, in the language of this region, to go for an

excursion _to the camp_ as early as possible in the morning. In company

with a young Englishman to whom Dr. French had introduced me, I started

in a carriage, and, after passing through the belt of gardens and

fields surrounding the town, soon reached a rather wide stream running

between muddy banks. I now understood why all the vehicles here are

hung upon such extremely high wheels. The horses take to the water as

easily as if they were amphibious, and we got across the stream without

taking in water, but not without a severe tug to get the carriage

through the deep mud. We next approached a large _saladero_; but I had

no curiosity to see the process of slaughter, nor the various stages by

which a live animal is speedily converted into human food. We made a

circuit round the _saladero_ and the adjoining enclosures, and before

long reached the open country.

The general aspect reminded me of what I have seen at the corresponding

season in the less inhabited parts of Northern Africa, especially

near Tunis, although the plants, as might be expected, are not only

different, but in great part belong to different natural families. Open

spaces covered with herbaceous vegetation alternate with patches of low

bushes, mostly evergreen, and here and there with shrubs under ten

feet in height; but there was nothing deserving to be called a tree.

The indigenous trees of this region seem to be confined to the banks

and islands of the great rivers. Among the bushes were four species

of _Baccharis_, a Composite genus characteristic of South America,

three species of _Solanum_, a _Lycium_, etc. But the commonest bush,

which extends from the Tropic of Capricorn to Patagonia, is _Duvaua

dependens_, with crooked branches beset with stout thorns, which has

no near ally among European plants. I found several plants still in

flower--two or three pretty species of the mallow tribe, a _Buddleia_,

an _Oxalis_, and a _Verbena_ (_V. phlogifolia_), nearly allied to the

ornamental species of our gardens.

[_FLORA OF THE CAMP._]

I returned to the town just in time to have all in readiness for the

steamer, which arrived punctually at two o’clock, and, after bidding

farewell to Dr. French, embarked with the impression that life in a

country town on the Uruguay is very much like life in a country town

anywhere in Europe--somewhat dull, but not devoid of interest to one

who is content to feel that he has been of some use to fellow-creatures.

The weather had become brighter, and we were spared the annoyance of

waiting at night for the clearing of the fog. We held on our course

down the stream, and at sunrise were again at anchor opposite to the

city of Buenos Ayres, now for the first time become visible. Seen in

the bright morning light, it presented a somewhat imposing aspect,

as befits the most populous and important port of the South American

continent. The advance of the Argentine Confederation has been so

rapid since public tranquillity has been assured that the returns of

a few years ago are doubtless considerably below the truth. Those of

the five years from 1870 to 1874 show a yearly average of about ten

millions sterling of imports, and nearly seven and a half millions of

exports; but these figures, especially the latter, should now be much

increased. Of the whole commercial movement more than eighty per cent.

belongs to Buenos Ayres, and the extension of railways must further

increase its supremacy.

I went to the Hotel de Provence, a French establishment fairly well

kept, and, after confinement in the little den on board the river

steamer, enjoyed the novel sense of occupying a spacious room. A good

part of the day was spent in wandering about the town. It is built on

the regular chess-board plan, with _quadras_ of equal dimensions. The

streets are narrow and ill-paved, most of them traversed by tramcars,

which are the only convenient vehicles; but the whole place is pervaded

by an air of activity which seems strange in Spanish America, reminding

one rather of the towns of the United States.

I was directed to an exhibition of the natural products and

manufactures of the states[40] of the Argentine Confederation, which

appeared to make a creditable show, but of which I felt myself to be

no competent judge. I was chiefly interested by the large collections

of native woods from Corrientes and the mountain regions of Tucuman,

Salta, and the adjoining states. We know at present very little as

to the extent of the Argentine forests, and still less as to the

proportion in which the more valuable species are distributed; but

it is obvious that in these forests there exist important sources of

wealth, which, however, must require good management for their future

development. Many of the largest and most valuable trees belong to the

family of _Leguminosæ_, and may be found to rival in importance those

of Guiana.

[_ARGENTINE FORESTS._]

Speaking of the forests of the northern states, the late Professor

Lorentz writes that they are exclusively confined to the eastern slopes

of the mountains on which the winds from the Atlantic deposit their

moisture, while the western slopes remain dry and bare of trees. He

dwells on the need for an efficient forest law, as the result of the

carelessness of the sparse population is that in the neighbourhood

of inhabited places much valuable timber is ruthlessly destroyed. It

may be feared that, under a constitution which, for such purposes,

leaves practical autonomy to fourteen different states, it may be very

difficult to obtain the enactment of an efficient law, and still more

difficult to secure its enforcement.

The chief architectural boast of Buenos Ayres is the Plaza Mayor,

one side of which is occupied by the cathedral, a very large pile in

the modern Spanish style, which is not likely to serve as a model

for imitation. The day being a _festa_, there was a ceremony in the

afternoon, which attracted a crowd of the female population. The great

church was ablaze with thousands--literally thousands--of wax candles,

and the entire pavement was covered with costly carpets of the most

gaudy colours. The behaviour of the congregation did not convey to a

stranger the impression of religious feeling. It is doubtful, however,

to what extent we are right in applying in such matters the standard

derived from a different race and different modes of feeling. A severer

style of worship would have no attractions for a people who thirst for

satisfaction to the eye and ear; and they would certainly not be the

better, in their present condition of progress, if the scepticism of

the age were to close this avenue of escape from the sordid cares of

daily life.

On June 29, my second day at Buenos Ayres, I made a short excursion to

the Boca, on the shore of the Rio de la Plata, only about three miles

from the city. I had an illustration of the careless way in which, from

want of sympathy or want of imagination, most people give directions

to strangers. Being informed that the tramcars plying to La Boca were

to be found in a certain street, I proceeded thither to look out for

a vehicle going in the right direction. After a few minutes a vehicle

appeared, coming from La Boca. After ten minutes more a second arrived

from the same direction, and after ten minutes more a third, but not

one in the opposite sense. At last I went into the shop of a German

chemist near at hand, when the mystery was explained. The cars enter

the town by one street, make a short circuit, and return by a different

street.

The Boca does not offer much to interest a stranger. I could have

fancied myself somewhere in the outskirts of Leghorn, so frequent were

the familiar sounds of the Italian tongue, save that in Italy it would

be difficult to find a spot where the horizon is unbroken by a near

hill, or by the distant outline of Alp or Apennine.

[_SAGITTARIA MONTEVIDENSIS._]

Having paid a short visit to Mr. Schnyder, the newly appointed

Professor of Botany, I strolled through the adjoining fields with

the hope of finding some remains of the autumnal vegetation. The low

flat country is intersected by broad ditches, and much reminded me of

Battersea fields as they existed half a century ago, when I first began

to collect British plants. Seeing in a ditch the remains of a fine

_Sagittaria_, I filled a bit of paper with the minute seeds, and from

these has sprung a plant which has for several seasons been admired

by the visitors to Kew Gardens. It is the _Sagittaria Montevidensis_,

which is not uncommon in Argentaria and Uruguay, but, so far as I know,

does not extend to Brazil--a singular fact, considering that the seeds

must be readily transported by water-birds. In its native home it grows

to a somewhat larger size than the European species, but is not very

conspicuous. Cultivated at Kew, in a house kept at the mean temperature

of about 78° Fahr., it has attained gigantic proportions, rising to a

height of over six feet, and the petioles of the leaves attaining the

thickness of a man’s arm.

I had arranged to take my passage to Brazil in the steamer _Neva_,

of the Royal Mail Company, and at this season I felt no regret at

quitting this region of South America, which offers comparatively

slight attractions to the tourist. I was led, however, from all the

information that I collected, to form a high estimate of the advantages

that it offers to European settlers. At the present time the chief

source of profit is from the rearing of cattle; but, though long

neglected, agriculture promises to become the most important element of

national prosperity. Until the middle of this century there were none

but wooden ploughs of the type used by the aborigines, and corn was

imported from abroad to feed the townspeople. There are now numerous

agricultural colonies formed by foreign settlers, especially in the

state of Santa Fé, and the results have been eminently successful.

Large crops of grain, especially wheat, of excellent quality, are

easily raised. The vine prospers, even as far south as Bahia Blanca,

and in the northern states cotton, olives, tobacco, and other

subtropical products appear to thrive. These agricultural colonies have

been chiefly formed by Italian, Swiss, and German immigrants, and one

of the most recent, composed of Welshmen, has been established so far

south as the river Chubat in Patagonia. It may be feared that, owing to

the deficient rainfall of that region, the prospects of the settlement

are somewhat uncertain.

The Argentine Government has shown its wisdom in promoting immigration

by the extraordinary liberality of the terms offered to agricultural

settlers from Europe. With a territory as large as the whole of

continental Europe, exclusive of Russia, and a population of scarcely

two millions, immigration is the indispensable requisite for the

development of resources that must render this one of the most

important nations of the earth. The law, which, as I believe, is still

in force, offers to settlers wishing to cultivate the national lands

which are under the control of the Central Government the following

terms:--An advance of the cost of the passage from a European port to

Buenos Ayres, with conveyance from that city to the location selected;

a free gift of a hundred hectares (about 247 acres) to each of the

first hundred families proceeding to a new settlement; an advance, not

exceeding a thousand dollars per family, to meet expenses for food,

stock, and outfit, repayable without interest in five years; the sale

of additional Government land at two dollars per hectare, payable in

ten annual instalments; and, finally, exemption from taxes for ten

years.

[_EMIGRATION TO ARGENTARIA._]

To the class of settlers who hold themselves above farming work other

careers are open. Many young Englishmen who enjoy life in the saddle

have done well as managers of _estancias_, for the raising of horses

and cattle. The chief advice to be given to those who have some capital

at their disposal is not to purchase property until they have gained

practical experience. The Argentines show a laudable anxiety for the

spread of education, and there is a considerable demand for teachers

and professors, which has been mainly supplied from Germany, many of

the professors from that country being men who have established a

merited reputation.

One of the attractions of this region for European settlers is the

excellence of the climate. Though not quite so uniform as that of

Chili, it is free from the extremes of temperature that prevail in the

United States. In the low country the difference between the mean

temperature of the hottest and coldest months is from 22° to 25° Fahr.,

while in the middle states of the northern continent the difference is

nearly twice as great--from 40° to 45°. The mean summer temperature

is here about the same as in places six or eight degrees farther from

the equator in eastern North America. The rainfall, which is of such

vital importance to agriculture, appears not to be subject to such

great annual irregularities as it is in the United States and Canada.

The average at Buenos Ayres is about thirty-five inches annually,

and in ascending the Paranà this increases to fifty-three inches in

Corrientes, and eighty inches in Paraguay. It is only in some parts

of the interior--_e.g._ about Mendoza--and in Patagonia, that the

cultivator is, in ordinary seasons, exposed to suffer from drought.

Apart from the economic results of the great influx of immigration,

the large recent admixture of European blood is effecting important

salutary consequences. I have seen no recent returns, but it

appears[41] that in the six years ending 1875, the number of immigrants

from Europe exceeded 284,000, or about 47,500 annually; and I believe

that this average has been exceeded since that date. Of the whole

number fully one-half are Italians, and I found unanimous testimony to

the fact that they form a valuable element in the population. With the

exception of a small proportion from the Neapolitan provinces, it is

admitted that, whether as agricultural settlers or as artisans in the

cities, the Italians are an orderly, industrious, and temperate class.

The Germans and Swiss are not nearly so numerous, but form a useful

addition to the orderly element in their adopted country. It may be

hoped that experience and education have not been thrown away on the

native Argentine, and that the memory of the forty years of intestine

disorder which followed the final establishment of independence

may serve as a warning against renewed attempts at revolution;

but assuredly the foreign element, which rapidly tends to become

predominant, will be found an additional security against the renewal

of disorder.

[_PROGRESS OF ARGENTARIA._]

Although a majority of the large commercial houses at Buenos Ayres are

English, and the trade with this country takes the first place in the

statistical returns, the predominance is not so marked as it is on the

western side of South America. Next to England, and not far behind,

France has a large share in the trade, and although Germany has only

lately entered the field, it appears that the business operations with

that country are rapidly extending. Here, and at several other places

in South America, I heard complaints that German traders palm off cheap

inferior goods, having forged labels and trade-marks to imitate those

of well-known English manufacturers. It is true that charges of a

similar nature have been recently brought against some English houses.

One asks if the progress of civilization is to lead us back to _caveat

emptor_ as the only rule of commercial ethics. If so, some further

means must be discovered to enable the innocent purchaser to protect

himself.

The most serious difficulty in the way of the increasing foreign trade

of Argentaria is that arising from the shallowness of the great estuary

of La Plata, which prevents large vessels from approaching the ports.

In the course of ages nature will remedy the defect, when the present

shoals are raised by deposits of fresh silt so as to confine the volume

of water brought down by the great rivers, which would then scour out

navigable channels. Whether the process may not be hastened by human

skill and enterprise is a question which I am unable to answer. At

present I believe that the only point where vessels of moderate burthen

can approach the shore is at Ensenada, about fourteen miles below

Buenos Ayres. It is now connected by railway with the capital, and

promises to become an important trading port.