Prepare the Beagle, and our decked boat (the Hope) for surveying the
Strait--Beagle sails westward, and the Hope towards the south-east--
Sarmiento's voyage--and description of the colony formed by him at Port
Famine--Steamer-duck--Large trees--Parroquets--Mount Tarn--Barometrical
observations--Geological character--Report of the Hope's cruize.
In almost every account published of the Strait of Magalhaens, so much
notice has been taken of Port Famine, that I had long considered it a
suitable place for our purposes; and upon examination I found it offered so
many advantages, that I did not hesitate to make it our head-quarters. As
soon, therefore, as the ship was moored, tents were pitched, our
decked-boat was hoisted out and hauled on shore, to be coppered and
equipped for the survey;--and Captain Stokes received orders to prepare the
Beagle for examining the western part of the Strait; previous to which she
required to be partially refitted, and supplied with fuel and water.
For several days after our arrival, we had much rain and strong
south-westerly wind, with thick clouds, which concealed the high land to
the southward; allowing us only now and then a partial glimpse. One evening
(11th) the air was unusually clear, and many of the mountains in that
direction were distinctly defined. We had assembled to take leave of our
friends in the Beagle, and were watching the gradual appearance of
snow-capped mountains which had previously been concealed, when, bursting
upon our view, as if by magic, a lofty mountain appeared towering among
them; whose snowy mantle, strongly contrasted with the dark and threatening
aspect of the sky, much enhanced the grandeur of the scene.
[Illustration: THE HOPE, IN THE STRAIT OF MAGALHAENS.]
[Illustration: THE ADELAIDE, IN HUMMING BIRD COVE.]
[Illustration: P. P. King S. Bull
DISTANT VIEW OF MT. SARMIENTO.
Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838]
{27} This mountain was the "Snowy Volcano" (_Volcan Nevado_) of Sarmiento,
with whose striking appearance that celebrated navigator seems to have been
particularly impressed, so minute and excellent is his description. It is
also mentioned in the account of Cordova's voyage.[19] The peculiar shape
of its summit as seen from the north would suggest the probability of its
being a volcano, but we never observed any indication of its activity. Its
volcanic form is perhaps accidental, for, seen from the westward, its
summit no longer resembles a crater. From the geological character of the
surrounding rocks its formation would seem to be of slate. It is in a range
of mountains rising generally two or three thousand feet above the sea; but
at the N.E. end of the range are some, at least four thousand feet high.
The height of the "Snowy Volcano," or as we have called it, Mount
Sarmiento,[20] was found, by trigonometrical measurement, to be six
thousand eight hundred feet[21] above the level {28} of the sea. It is the
highest land that I have seen in Tierra del Fuego; and to us, indeed, it
was an object of considerable interest, because its appearance and
disappearance were seldom failing weather guides. In our Meteorological
Diary, a column was ruled for the insertion of its appearances.[22]
This clear state of the atmosphere was followed by a heavy fall of rain,
with northerly and easterly winds, which did not, however, last long.
In the vicinity of our tents erected on the low land, on the S.W. side of
the bay, were several ponds of water, perfectly fit for immediate use; but,
perhaps, too much impregnated with vegetable matter to keep good for any
length of time. Captain Stokes, therefore, filled his tanks from the river;
but as that water did not keep well, it was probably taken into the boat
too near the sea. This, however, was unavoidable, except by risking the
boats among a great number of sunken trees in the bed of the river.
The Beagle sailed on the 15th, to survey the western entrance of the
Strait, with orders to return to Port Famine by the end of March.
Our decked boat, the Hope, being ready, the command of her was given to Mr.
Wickham, who was in every way qualified for the trust. We were, however,
much mortified by finding that she leaked so considerably as to oblige us
to unload, and again haul her on shore. When ready for sea, she sailed
under the direction of my assistant-surveyor, Mr. Graves, to examine the
St. Sebastian channel and the deep opening to the S.E. of Cape Valentyn.
Her crew consisted of seven men, besides Mr. Wickham, and Mr. Rowlett, the
purser.
Having despatched the Beagle and the Hope, I was at leisure to carry on the
survey of the coast in the neighbourhood of Port Famine, and to make a plan
of the port itself. The {29} Transit, and Altitude circle, were set up; but
from the very unfavourable state of the weather, and the interference of
other occupations, I was only enabled to procure a series of zenith
distances of the sun, and stars, for the latitude.
Port Famine, a name well known to all who have interested themselves about
the Strait of Magalhaens, was selected by Sarmiento as the most convenient
place for the site of an establishment formed, at his suggestion, by Philip
II. King of Spain.
The voyage of Sir Francis Drake through the Strait into the Pacific, and
his successes against the Spanish colonies and trade on the western side of
the continent of America, induced the Viceroy of Lima to send an Expedition
to pursue the "Corsair," with orders to fight and take him, dead or
alive.[23] This Expedition, commanded by Pedro Sarmiento de Gamboa, who had
already been engaged twice with Drake, consisted of two ships, containing
in all two hundred armed men, sailors and soldiers; a force which was
considered sufficient to ensure the capture.[24]
The Strait of Magalhaens being the most likely place to meet with Drake,
Sarmiento was ordered to proceed through it, and take the opportunity of
exploring its coasts.
All this he performed in a manner highly creditable, as well for the
excellent description handed down in his unpretending journal, as for the
enterprising zeal, and steady perseverance, shown among difficulties of no
trifling nature. To his accounts of various places there will be frequent
occasion to refer. Our object, at present, is to give a short account of
the Colony.
Sarmiento sailed from Peru (1583), and entered the Strait from the Pacific.
After experiencing many serious difficulties, and escaping imminent
dangers, in the western part of the Strait, where the climate is so
rigorous and the country so desolate, it was not surprising that he should
become enraptured with the verdant, and picturesque appearance of the
shores to the eastward of Cape Froward, and with the open country in {30}
the neighbourhood, and to the northward of Cape Virgins.[25] After much
opposition from the Duke of Alva[26] and other powerful people, he
succeeded in convincing the King of the expediency of fortifying the shores
of the First Narrow, and forming several establishments within the Strait,
to prevent the passage of strange ships, to the prejudice of the King's
colonies in Chile and Peru; for at that time the passage round Cape Horn
was not known. Accordingly, an Expedition was prepared, consisting of
twenty-three vessels, under the joint command of Diego Florez de Valdez and
Sarmiento; the former being appointed Captain-general of the fleet, and of
the coast of Brazil; and the latter, Captain-general of the Strait of
Magalhaens, and Governor of all the Establishments that should be formed
within it.
Of the twenty-three ships which sailed from Spain, five only reached the
entrance of the Strait; and these, after experiencing many difficulties
from bad weather and foul winds, returned to Rio de Janeiro to refit, where
Sarmiento met four vessels which had been sent from Spain to his succour.
His colleague and General in chief, Florez, who had deserted the
Expedition, did all in his power to impede Sarmiento, to the latest moment
of his stay at the Brazils. At last, however, five ships, commanded by
Ribera, and manned by five hundred and thirty men,[27] sailed; and, without
encountering further loss or detention, arrived off the Strait in December
(1584), and soon after reached an anchorage, between the First and Second
Narrows.
Ribera would go no further; but landed about three hundred men, under
Sarmiento. A city was marked out, and named Jesus,[28] in a valley well
provided with water. The {31} ships were blown away to sea, leaving the
colonists very destitute; fortunately, however, they were enabled to
return, but were four times, afterwards, obliged to put to sea, from stress
of weather. On the last return, one of the ships, La Trinidad, was run on
shore. The ardour of Ribera being damped by repeated misfortunes, he
returned to Spain, without the knowledge or consent of Sarmiento, leaving,
for the use of the colony, only one ship, the Maria.
While unloading the Trinidad, the Spaniards were attacked by Indians, whom
they dispersed.
Sarmiento, after making the necessary arrangements at Jesus, set out by
land with one hundred men, to go to Point St. Anna,[29] the ship Maria
being ordered to follow. On the journey, the sufferings of the party were
very great, as well from the fatiguing nature of the march, as from their
being harassed by the natives, with whom they had an engagement, in which
one was killed, and ten men were wounded. A mutiny among his people then
broke out, which was quelled by assistance from the ship. At last they
reached their destination, and founded, with the usual solemnities, the
city of King Philip (or San Felipe).
At the latter end of March, while preparing habitations, the winter set in
so suddenly, that for fifteen days it did not cease to snow. Sarmiento,
then, after quelling a mutiny which had broken out afresh among the
soldiers, embarked with thirty men to visit the first encampment at Jesus,
and to superintend the erection of forts in the Narrow; but upon reaching
the anchorage, a gale of wind forced him to sea, and, lasting twenty days,
obliged him (with his people blinded and frost-bitten) to bear up for Rio
de Janeiro.
Here his ship was stranded; upon which he chartered a vessel to convey
flour to the Strait, and went himself to Pernambuco, to procure large boats
for carrying supplies to his {32} colony, and assisting in the recovery of
his stranded ship; she had, however, drifted off, and sunk near Bahia; and
all his boats were destroyed. Still Sarmiento persevered in his zealous
efforts to succour his friends in the Strait; and succeeded in procuring a
vessel of fifty or sixty tons, which, loaded with arms and whatever he
considered useful, sailed, and reached Rio de Janeiro a month after the
departure of the first vessel (January 1585). He followed, but in the
latitude of 39deg met with a furious gale, which drove him back to Rio de
Janeiro, where the vessel that had preceded him had returned in distress.
Disappointed in his attempts to carry succour to the colony, he determined
to go to Spain; but on his voyage thither, to complete the catalogue of his
misfortunes, his ship was captured by three English vessels, and taken to
England, after which the ill-fated colony in the Strait was neglected, if
not entirely forgotten.
Two months after Sarmiento's departure from the Strait of Magalhaens, in
the month of August, the middle of the winter of that region, the party
belonging to the first establishment at Jesus set off by land, and joined
that at San Felipe, with the unwelcome tidings of their deserted state. But
as the provisions at San Felipe were insufficient to support all the
people, Andres de Viedma, who, after Sarmiento's departure, had assumed the
command, detached two hundred soldiers, under the command of Juan Iniguez,
back to Jesus, for the purpose of communicating with any ship that might
make her appearance, and awaiting the expected return of Sarmiento; but the
winter and following summer passed by without any relief.
In this unhappy state, the colonists were obliged to think only of
providing for their safety, and built two boats; in which fifty people
embarked, besides Viedma, Suarez, a Franciscan friar named Antonio, and
five Spanish women. They had not proceeded farther than Point Santa
Brigida,[30] {33} when one of the boats struck upon a reef, and was lost,
but the people were saved. The loss of this boat caused them to give up
every hope of saving themselves in that way; and Viedma, with Suarez, the
friar, and twenty soldiers, returned in the remaining boat to San Felipe,
leaving the rest of the party, consisting of thirty men and five women, to
support themselves through the approaching winter as they could. After that
season had passed, Viedma sent to collect the wanderers; but fifteen men,
and three women only, could be found; the rest having died of hunger and
disease. The survivors then determined upon going to the first
establishment at Jesus; on their way to which they passed by the skeletons
of the two hundred who had been first detached. Travelling onwards, they
observed three ships entering the strait, which anchored at a distance to
the southward.
During the night, Viedma and his companions kept up large fires, supposing
that the ships belonged to their own nation. Next morning a boat was
despatched from them; and three of Viedma's party obtained permission to go
and reconnoitre her. Having approached near enough, a signal was made; upon
which, the people in the boat pulled towards the beach, and said they were
from England, bound to Peru, and that if the Spaniards wanted a passage,
they had better embark. After some hesitation, arising from the fear of
trusting themselves in the power of heretics, they consented; and one was
permitted to get in, but the other two were left on the beach. In the boat
was the enterprizing Cavendish[31] himself, who, on hearing the particulars
of their story, sent the other two soldiers to Viedma, offering to take him
and the residue of his people on board. Cavendish returned to his ship;
but, without further delay, sailed on to the Isla dos Patos (Santa
Magdalena Island), where he leisurely salted down six casks of penguins;
and then proceeded to San Felipe, for wood and water; he remained there
four days (during which time he destroyed the houses of the Spaniards, and
embarked six guns); and thence continued his voyage. The person saved {34}
by Cavendish, whose name was Tome Hernandez, afterwards escaped from him at
Quintero, near Valparaiso; and, proceeding to Peru, gave an account of the
fate of this cruelly neglected colony.
This was the first, and perhaps will be the last, attempt made to occupy a
country, offering no encouragement for a human being; a region, where the
soil is swampy, cold, and unfit for cultivation, and whose climate is
thoroughly cheerless.
The name, San Felipe, ceased with the colony; for Cavendish called it Port
Famine, in allusion to the fate of the colonists, all of whom, except the
man he took away, and one saved two years afterwards (in 1589), by Andrew
Mericke,[32] perished from hunger and its attendant diseases; and by this
appellation the bay has since been universally known. To commemorate the
ill-fated town, a very thickly-wooded mountain at the bottom of the bay,
which forms a conspicuous and picturesque object, has been named by us
Mount San Felipe.
At this port, Sarmiento, on his first voyage through the Strait,
communicated with a large party of Indians, in consequence of which he
called it Bahia de la Gente; and the river, which now bears the name of
Sedger, he named San Juan. Of this river Sarmiento took formal possession,
as well as of the whole Strait, for the 'Mui Poderoso y mui Catolico Senor
Phelipe Segundo,' &c. &c. It was also here that, in consequence of the
miraculous preservation of his vessel on many {35} occasions, he attempted
to change the name of the strait to Estrecho de la Madre de Dios; but it
had been too long called Magalhaens, for even the influence of Sarmiento,
backed by the power of Philip, to persuade the world to countenance so
great an injustice.
"Magallanes, Senor, fue el primer hombre
Que abriendo este camino le dio nombre."
Ercilla Araucana, Cant. I. oct. 8.
During an excursion with Mr. Tarn to Eagle Bay,[33] beyond Cape San Isidro,
we found many wigwams. They were then novelties to us, and we were ignorant
of their being such certain indications of very sheltered places, as
subsequent experience has shown them to be. We often used them, after they
had been well cleaned out: a boat's sail, thrown over the hemispherical
roof, was a sufficient protection from rain;--and from wind they are always
well defended by their situation. Here we saw, for the first time, that
most remarkable bird the Steamer-duck. Before steam-boats were in general
use, this bird was denominated, from its swiftness in skimming over the
surface of the water, the 'race-horse,' a name which occurs frequently in
Cook's, Byron's, and other voyages. It is a gigantic duck, the largest I
have met with. It has the lobated hind-toe, legs placed far backwards, and
other characteristics of the oceanic ducks.[34] The principal peculiarity
of this bird is, the shortness and remarkably small size of the wings,
which, not having sufficient power to raise the body, serve only to propel
it along, rather than through the water, and are used like the paddles of a
steam-vessel. Aided by these and its strong, broad-webbed feet, it moves
with astonishing velocity. {36} It would not be an exaggeration to state
its speed at from twelve to fifteen miles an hour. The peculiar form of the
wing, and the short rigid feathers which cover it, together with the power
this bird possesses of remaining a considerable length of time under water,
constitute it a striking link between the genera _Anas_ and _Aptenodytes_.
It has been noticed by many former navigators. The largest we found
measured forty inches, from the extremity of the bill, to that of the tail,
and weighed thirteen pounds; but Captain Cook mentions, in his second
voyage, that the weight of one was twenty-nine pounds.[35] It is very
difficult to kill them, on account of their wariness and thick coat of
feathers, which is impenetrable by any thing smaller than swan shot. The
flavour of their flesh is so strong and fishy, that at first we killed them
solely for specimens. Five or six months, however, on salt provisions,
taught many to think such food palatable, and the seamen never lost an
opportunity of eating them. I have preferred these ducks to salt-beef, but
more as a preventive against scurvy, than from liking their taste.
I am averse to altering names, particularly in natural history, without
very good reason, but in this case I do think the name of 'steamer' much
more appropriate, and descriptive of the swift paddling motion of these
birds, than that of 'race-horse.' I believe, too, the name of 'steamer' is
now generally given to it by those who have visited these regions.
Many shells[36] were taken from the bottom by means of a fizgig which Mr.
Tarn found in one of the wigwams: it was a {37} rough pole, eight or ten
feet long, split crosswise at one end, and opened so as to form four
prongs, kept apart by two small pieces of wood. Although rudely made, it
was excellently adapted for a shell-gatherer, and is used by the Indians
for collecting sea-eggs, which are found in the Strait of very large size,
and are doubtless, to them, a great delicacy.
During our excursion we ascertained the best place to ascend the snowy
mountain, since named 'Tarn;' and the surgeon, whose name it bears, set off
with a party of officers to make the attempt, in which he succeeded, and
obtained such an extensive view as induced me to decide upon ascending it,
a few days afterwards, to procure bearings from the summit, and for the
purpose of measuring its height with a barometer.
In the meantime I visited the Sedger river (Sarmiento's 'Rio de San Juan de
Posesion'), and found some difficulty in entering it, because of several
banks which are dry at low water. Between them, however, the stream keeps a
small channel open, by which we effected our purpose. Every gale of wind
causes the banks to shift, and between the times of our first, and last,
visit to Port Famine, the river's mouth underwent many changes. The bed of
the river is so full of fallen trees, that we could not go, with the boat,
more than three miles and a half above the entrance; there it was about
fifteen yards wide, bounded on each side by thickly wooded banks, of
moderate height. The trees on these banks are large, chiefly the two
species of Beech before-mentioned, and Winter's-bark; there are besides
many shrubs, and an impenetrable underwood of Arbutus, Berberis, and
currant bushes. The largest Beech-tree that we saw could not have been more
than thirty or forty inches in diameter, which was insignificant compared
with those noticed by Commodore Byron. In describing his excursion up this
river, he mentions "trees that would supply the British navy with the best
masts in the world."[37] "Some of them are of a great height, and more than
eight feet in diameter, which is proportionally more than eight yards in
{38} circumference."[38] The Commodore may have been pleased by the
appearance of these trees, but must have fancied their quality and
dimensions such as he describes. The largest are generally rotten at the
heart, and all are more or less defective. Their wood is heavy, and far too
brittle for masts: we could not use it even for boat-hook staves. It makes,
however, tolerable plank for boat-building, and, when seasoned, might be
used in ships. For common purposes, such as houses, or fences, it is very
serviceable.
We wandered about to examine the country; but, excepting the track of some
quadruped, whose foot was small and cloven, rather like a pig's, we saw
nothing new. The traces of foxes were numerous every where. We found no
fish of any description in the river. Geese and wild ducks were numerous,
whose young were at this time scarcely fledged, and an easy prey. We also
observed here, for the first time, the parroquet, which Bougainville
described to be common in the Strait. He carried specimens home with him;
but some naturalists of those days decided that there must have been a
mistake, because, as they averred, parroquets did not exist in so high a
latitude. Bougainville, however, made no mistake, for the species[39] is
very abundant in the neighbourhood of Port Famine, and has been seen by us
in all parts of the Strait. It feeds principally upon the seeds of the
Winter's-bark. The existence of this bird in Tierra del Fuego is also
mentioned by Cook and Narborough.[40]
{39}
All accounts of Port Famine informed us of its abounding in fish, but as
yet we had taken none excepting with hook and line, although the seine had
been frequently shot. At last, however, in the first week of February, we
had a successful haul of mullet and smelts, many of the former weighing
eight pounds, and the latter measuring fifteen inches in length. After this
we were often very fortunate, and on one occasion caught, at one haul of
the seine, sixteen hundred-weight of smelts, some weighing two pounds, and
measuring twenty inches in length. A few days previously we had a draught
of mullet, which served the crews of both Adventure and Beagle for three
days. Geese, wild ducks and teal, snipe, and now and then woodcocks, were
to be found by taking a short walk; there were, however, no quadrupeds fit
for food which we could take. Foxes and wild cats were occasionally seen,
and a foot-mark of some large animal of the feline race, probably a puma,
was once observed upon the beach. We found many traces of horses, which
showed that the Patagonian Indians sometimes come thus far south. Had we
been so fortunate as to meet them here, we might have procured, perhaps, a
regular supply of guanaco meat.
On the 9th of February, as the weather seemed favourable for ascending
Mount Tarn,[41] Lieutenant Cooke, the Surgeon, and Anderson, the botanical
collector, set off in advance to select a convenient place for passing the
night, carrying with them a tent and provisions. I followed later in the
day, and, while the boat's crew were arranging their loads, made some
observations with a barometer on the beach.
Our way led through thick underwood, and then, with a gradual ascent, among
fallen trees, covered with so thick a coating of moss, that at every step
we sunk up to the knees {40} before firm footing could be found. It was
very laborious work, and the ground being saturated, and each tree dripping
with moisture, we were soon wet through. We proceeded along the same sort
of road up a steep ascent; some one of the party constantly falling into
deep holes covered by moss, or stumbling over fallen trunks of trees. As I
carried a barometer I was obliged to proceed with caution, and succeeded in
emerging from this jungle without accident. After about three quarters of
an hour spent in this way, we reached an open space, where we rested, and I
set up the barometer. Here we found a cypress of very stunted growth.
Our road hence was rather more varied: always steep, but sometimes free
from impediment. Here and there we observed the boggy soil was faced with a
small plant (_Chamitis sp._) of a harsh character, growing so thick and
close as to form large tufts, over which we walked as on hard ground. We
struggled through several thickets of stunted beech-trees, with a thick
jungle of Berberis underneath, whose strong and sharp thorns penetrated our
clothes at every step; and began to find the fatigue very oppressive: some
of my boat's crew suffered much, being unused to such exercise. At last we
approached the place where Mr. Cooke and his party had established
themselves, and upon hailing, were invigorated by a cheer in reply. We
reached the bivouac in a very way-worn condition, and found, to our great
comfort, the tent pitched, and a good fire burning.[42]
The ground was so exceedingly wet, that although we slept upon branches,
forming a layer at least a foot thick, we found ourselves, in the night,
lying as if in a morass, and suffering from cold, even with a large fire
blazing at our feet. At daylight next morning, just as we were starting, a
boat was seen sailing round Cape San Isidro, which, by the aid of a
telescope, I made out to be the Hope.
We resumed the ascent, and passed over, rather than through, thickets of
the crumply-leaved beech, which, from {41} their exposure to the prevailing
winds, rose no higher than twelve or fourteen inches from the ground, with
widely-spreading branches, so closely interwoven, as to form a platform
that bore our weight in walking. We next traversed an extent of
table-land,[43] much intersected by ponds of water. Mr. Tarn shot two
plovers of a new species (_Charadrius rubecola_, Zool. Jour. vol. iv. p.
96), and a snipe. We then ascended three or four hundred feet, and crossed
a deep ravine. The bottom of the ravine was clay-slate in a decomposing
state, but the surface of the ground was strewed with pebbles of granite.
Another plain, with many ponds, succeeded; the intervening spaces being
covered with tufts of chamitis, and studded here and there with small
clusters of dwarf beech; but the ground was so hard, and firm, that we
proceeded rapidly, without fatigue, until we attained the height of 1,800
feet, when the ascent became very steep. Near the summit lay a large mass
of snow, rapidly melting away. We reached the highest pinnacle of the mount
at seven o'clock (having left our resting-place at four), and immediately
set up the instruments. I was obliged to avail myself of Mr. Tarn's
assistance to hold the barometer, whilst two of my boat's crew held the
legs of the theodolite-stand, for the wind was blowing very strongly, and
the edge of a precipice was close to us, perpendicular for many hundred
feet, and thence downwards so steep, that any body going over would fall at
least a thousand feet. The theodolite-stand was unavoidably placed within a
very few inches of the edge, and I took a round of angles, suffering,
however, intense pain from the piercing coldness of the wind, which, heated
as we were by the ascent, was much felt, though the temperature was not
lower than 39deg. I was lightly clothed, and should have fared badly, had
not one of the party lent me his Flushing jacket, while he descended under
the lee of the mountain-top to make a fire. The barometer stood at 26,618,
the temperature of the air being 40deg, and of {42} the mercury 43deg.[44]
Unfortunately the day was very cloudy, and many squalls of sleet and rain,
which obscured the hills, passed whilst I was taking bearings. To the N.E.,
towards the supposed Sebastian Channel, the horizon was too hazy to allow
much view. A deep inlet was seen in that direction; but whether the land
closed round, or whether a channel was at the bottom, we could not
distinguish. A considerable body of water was observed to the southward of
Cape St. Valentyn, behind Lomas Bay, but its extent was screened from our
view by the intervention of the Lomas hills. It appeared to be a channel,
the opposite or eastern side of it being formed by the high ranges
previously seen from Point St. Mary. Cordova's Ports San Antonio and Valdez
were distinctly made out; but, to the southward, every thing was enveloped
in mist.
The bearings and observations, which occupied me nearly two hours, being
completed, we all adjourned to a sheltered cleft in the rock close to our
station, where we soon recovered the use of our fingers.[45]
{43}
Having accomplished our object, we began the descent. In a comparatively
mild and agreeable spot, I again set up the theodolite and barometer, while
some of the party employed themselves in fruitless attempts to kindle a
fire. The height, by the barometer, proved to be 1,845 feet above the sea;
and the bearings from this station were much better than those I had taken
from the exposed summit.
We reached our tent at noon, having been absent seven hours. At three we
reached the beach, where the barometer stood at 29,312 (air 61.deg3,[46]
and mercury 62,deg5).
Excepting near the sea, where clay-slate (very similar to that of Point St.
Anna, but with an opposite dip) showed itself, the side of the hill is
clothed with trees and underwood, and no rock is visible until one arrives
at the ravine. Around the summit of Mount Tarn the ground is bare, but so
covered with small decomposed fragments, that the solid rock only appears
occasionally: it is very hard, and breaks with a conchoidal fracture: some
of the specimens which we detached bore indistinct impressions of organic
remains. We also found, projecting from the rock in which they were
embedded, nodules, or small rounded masses of stone, in an advanced state
of decomposition, mouldering away in laminar forms somewhat resembling the
inner leaves of a cabbage. Several were brought away carefully, but before
we arrived on board they had crumbled to pieces: the nucleus was quite
hard, but was surrounded by concentric laminae, more brittle the nearer
they approached to the outer surface. It seemed as if the face of the
summit {44} above-mentioned was covered with the decomposing fragments of
these nodules.
The highest parts of the Mount form a ridge extending S.E. and N.W., being
a succession of strata of slaty rock, dipping to the eastward, at an angle
of 15deg or 20deg from the horizon. The strata are very narrow, and
separated from each other by a vein of quartz, much of which is in a
crystallized state. We reached the ship about seven o'clock, and found that
the Hope and her party had done well. Her cruize proved interesting, with
regard to the geography of the Strait, and a summary of it is subjoined.
Mr. Graves's orders were to survey the Sebastian Channel; but in the event
of his seeing any thing more interesting to the S.E., he was allowed to
defer that service to another opportunity. The Hope crossed the Strait, and
anchored in a small bay, formed between the two projecting points of Cape
Valentyn, where some few defects in the vessel were remedied, and a good
round of angles obtained from the summit of the Cape, whence there was a
fine view. The country was low, undulating, and destitute of trees. From a
station about two miles overland, to the eastward, a large body of water
was observed to the southward, forming a channel, or deep sound, and it was
determined to follow up its examination, rather than risk the crew in the
deep bay that was supposed to communicate with the San Sebastian Channel,
on board a vessel whose capabilities were unknown. Several fire-places and
remains of wigwams were seen; the latter were, however, very different,
both in shape and material, from those at Port Famine, for the country
being destitute of trees, they were built of driftwood, piled up in a
conical form.
Passing round Cape Valentyn, the Hope hauled to the southward, keeping the
land on board. At night she anchored in Philip Gidley Cove, at the bottom
of Willes Bay, where she was weather-bound until the 29th of January. The
shores of Willes Bay are thickly clothed with wood, growing to the water's
edge, except at the S.W. side. The great abundance of muscles and limpets
attracts the Indians, whose wigwams {45} were found standing, and from the
green appearance of the branches with which they were formed, seemed to
have been lately erected. After leaving Willes Bay, the Hope visited Fox
Bay, and Sir Edward Owen's Sound, which, it was thought, would lead into
Lomas Bay, opposite to Port Famine; but, after running ten miles up, they
got into shoal water, and as there was no current, or stream of tide, they
landed, and found that a mile and a half farther on, the sound was
terminated by low land. Another day, while proceeding along the south side
of Brenton Sound, the smoke of Indians' fires was noticed near the beach.
As this was the first time the Natives of this part had been seen, the
course was shaped towards them, until the Hope anchored. Three Indians then
approached, holding up the skins of some animal, and inviting them to land.
The small boat was hoisted out, and Messrs. Wickham and Rowlett, with
Robinson the pilot, went on shore. The Fuegians presented a fox skin to
each of the party, who in return gave them some trifles. After a short
interview the boat left them, and no further communication was held that
night. The following morning a canoe came off to the vessel, containing
three young men, two women, and three children, the youngest not more than
four months old. They were no sooner alongside than the men went on board,
and commenced an active traffic with all the valuables they possessed; and
for a few buttons, a glass bottle, or an empty preserved-meat canister,
many of their goods were bartered. They had several fox-skins with them,
but no other kind of peltry, except their clothing, obtained from the seal
or guanaco: and though many of them wore a penguin skin suspended from
their girdle, some were without even that covering. This canoe was followed
by another, containing an old man, sixty or seventy years of age, with a
grey beard; an elderly woman, and two children. Before they came alongside
they put their dogs on shore.
Although the visit from these Indians did not last very long, they had time
enough to pilfer. One of the young men, who was seen going into a canoe,
excited, by his manner, a {46} suspicion of his having stolen something,
and a tin pot was found concealed under his mantle. As there was every
probability of their soon separating, and Mr. Graves feared that punishment
would cause a rupture, he only turned him out of the vessel: the rest soon
followed him, and landed. Having made a fire, the men squatted round it;
while the women were despatched to collect shell-fish.
As soon as the Natives had finished their meal, they embarked, and
proceeded eastward. Next day they again visited the Hope, but in
consequence, perhaps, of the occurrence the day before, did not venture
alongside, until invited by the words, 'ho-say, ho-say,' which mean, 'come,
come.' In a few minutes confidence was restored, and they began to barter.
The trade was opened by one of the women making a peace-offering of a shell
necklace, in return for which, red caps and medals were given to each of
the women and children. The Hope went thence to Soapsuds Cove, where the
crew washed their clothes, and replaced a broken spar.
In a S.E. direction from this cove there appeared to be a considerable
channel leading to the S.E., and to the southward was a deep sound, towards
which they were proceeding the next morning; but having advanced about two
miles, the land of Cape Expectation trended suddenly round to the eastward,
and a long narrow channel presented itself, which seemed likely to
communicate with the Strait, to the southward of Port San Antonio. They
proceeded through this channel, which takes a very straight course, and
gradually narrows from Port Waterfall, where it is two miles and a half
wide, to Passage Cove, where it is scarcely three quarters of a mile; and
there they anchored.
Between Port Waterfall and Passage Cove, a party of Natives was seen; but,
being probably the same who were met at Indian Cove, no attention was paid
to their hallooings and fires of invitation.[47] The Hope came into the
Strait, eastward of an opening then called Magdalen Sound; her passage {47}
must therefore have been through Sarmiento's 'San Gabriel' Channel.
At night, when between Cape Froward and Port San Antonio, a heavy squall
from S.W. carried the little vessel rapidly towards Cape San Isidro, and,
at daylight the next morning, she was in the position observed by us, while
ascending Mount Tarn.
* * * * *
{48}