SANTA CRUZ, PATAGONIA, AND THE FALKLAND ISLANDS
Santa Cruz--Expedition up the River--Indians--Immense Streams of
Basaltic Lava--Fragments not transported by the River--Excavations of
the Valley--Condor, Habits of--Cordillera--Erratic Boulders of great
size--Indian Relics--Return to the Ship--Falkland Islands--Wild
Horses, Cattle, Rabbits--Wolf-like Fox--Fire made of Bones--Manner of
Hunting Wild Cattle--Geology--Streams of Stones--Scenes of
Violence--Penguins--Geese--Eggs of Doris--Compound Animals.
APRIL 13, 1834.--The Beagle anchored within the mouth of the Santa
Cruz. This river is situated about sixty miles south of Port St.
Julian. During the last voyage Captain Stokes proceeded thirty miles
up it, but then, from the want of provisions, was obliged to return.
Excepting what was discovered at that time, scarcely anything was known
about this large river. Captain Fitz Roy now determined to follow its
course as far as time would allow. On the 18th three whale-boats
started, carrying three weeks' provisions; and the party consisted of
twenty-five souls--a force which would have been sufficient to have
defied a host of Indians. With a strong flood-tide and a fine day we
made a good run, soon drank some of the fresh water, and were at night
nearly above the tidal influence.
The river here assumed a size and appearance which, even at the highest
point we ultimately reached, was scarcely diminished. It was generally
from three to four hundred yards broad, and in the middle about
seventeen feet deep. The rapidity of the current, which in its whole
course runs at the rate of from four to six knots an hour, is perhaps
its most remarkable feature. The water is of a fine blue colour, but
with a slight milky tinge, and not so transparent as at first sight
would have been expected. It flows over a bed of pebbles, like those
which compose the beach and the surrounding plains. It runs in a
winding course through a valley, which extends in a direct line
westward. This valley varies from five to ten miles in breadth; it is
bounded by step-formed terraces, which rise in most parts, one above
the other, to the height of five hundred feet, and have on the opposite
sides a remarkable correspondence.
April 19th.--Against so strong a current it was, of course, quite
impossible to row or sail: consequently the three boats were fastened
together head and stern, two hands left in each, and the rest came on
shore to track. As the general arrangements made by Captain Fitz Roy
were very good for facilitating the work of all, and as all had a share
in it, I will describe the system. The party including every one, was
divided into two spells, each of which hauled at the tracking line
alternately for an hour and a half. The officers of each boat lived
with, ate the same food, and slept in the same tent with their crew, so
that each boat was quite independent of the others. After sunset the
first level spot where any bushes were growing, was chosen for our
night's lodging. Each of the crew took it in turns to be cook.
Immediately the boat was hauled up, the cook made his fire; two others
pitched the tent; the coxswain handed the things out of the boat; the
rest carried them up to the tents and collected firewood. By this
order, in half an hour everything was ready for the night. A watch of
two men and an officer was always kept, whose duty it was to look after
the boats, keep up the fire, and guard against Indians. Each in the
party had his one hour every night.
During this day we tracked but a short distance, for there were many
islets, covered by thorny bushes, and the channels between them were
shallow.
April 20th.--We passed the islands and set to work. Our regular day's
march, although it was hard enough, carried us on an average only ten
miles in a straight line, and perhaps fifteen or twenty altogether.
Beyond the place where we slept last night, the country is completely
_terra incognita_, for it was there that Captain Stokes turned back. We
saw in the distance a great smoke, and found the skeleton of a horse,
so we knew that Indians were in the neighbourhood. On the next morning
(21st) tracks of a party of horse and marks left by the trailing of the
chuzos, or long spears, were observed on the ground. It was generally
thought that the Indians had reconnoitred us during the night. Shortly
afterwards we came to a spot where, from the fresh footsteps of men,
children, and horses, it was evident that the party had crossed the
river.
April 22nd.--The country remained the same, and was extremely
uninteresting. The complete similarity of the productions throughout
Patagonia is one of its most striking characters. The level plains of
arid shingle support the same stunted and dwarf plants; and in the
valleys the same thorn-bearing bushes grow. Everywhere we see the same
birds and insects. Even the very banks of the river and of the clear
streamlets which entered it, were scarcely enlivened by a brighter tint
of green. The curse of sterility is on the land, and the water flowing
over a bed of pebbles partakes of the same curse. Hence the number of
water-fowls is very scanty; for there is nothing to support life in the
stream of this barren river.
Patagonia, poor as she is in some respects, can however boast of a
greater stock of small rodents [1] than perhaps any other country in
the world. Several species of mice are externally characterized by
large thin ears and a very fine fur. These little animals swarm
amongst the thickets in the valleys, where they cannot for months
together taste a drop of water excepting the dew. They all seem to be
cannibals for no sooner was a mouse caught in one of my traps that it
was devoured by others. A small and delicately shaped fox, which is
likewise very abundant, probably derives its entire support from these
small animals. The guanaco is also in his proper district, herds of
fifty or a hundred were common; and, as I have stated, we saw one which
must have contained at least five hundred. The puma, with the condor
and other carrion-hawks in its train, follows and preys upon these
animals. The footsteps of the puma were to be seen almost everywhere
on the banks of the river; and the remains of several guanacos, with
their necks dislocated and bones broken, showed how they had met their
death.
April 24th.--Like the navigators of old when approaching an unknown
land, we examined and watched for the most trivial sign of a change.
The drifted trunk of a tree, or a boulder of primitive rock, was hailed
with joy, as if we had seen a forest growing on the flanks of the
Cordillera. The top, however, of a heavy bank of clouds, which
remained almost constantly in one position, was the most promising
sign, and eventually turned out a true harbinger. At first the clouds
were mistaken for the mountains themselves, instead of the masses of
vapour condensed by their icy summits.
April 26th.--We this day met with a marked change in the geological
structure of the plains. From the first starting I had carefully
examined the gravel in the river, and for the two last days had noticed
the presence of a few small pebbles of a very cellular basalt. These
gradually increased in number and in size, but none were as large as a
man's head. This morning, however, pebbles of the same rock, but more
compact, suddenly became abundant, and in the course of half an hour we
saw, at the distance of five of six miles, the angular edge of a great
basaltic platform. When we arrived at its base we found the stream
bubbling among the fallen blocks. For the next twenty-eight miles the
river-course was encumbered with these basaltic masses. Above that
limit immense fragments of primitive rocks, derived from its
surrounding boulder-formation, were equally numerous. None of the
fragments of any considerable size had been washed more than three or
four miles down the river below their parent-source: considering the
singular rapidity of the great body of water in the Santa Cruz, and
that no still reaches occur in any part, this example is a most
striking one, of the inefficiency of rivers in transporting even
moderately-sized fragments.
The basalt is only lava, which has flowed beneath the sea; but the
eruptions must have been on the grandest scale. At the point where we
first met this formation it was 120 feet in thickness; following up the
river course, the surface imperceptibly rose and the mass became
thicker, so that at forty miles above the first station it was 320 feet
thick. What the thickness may be close to the Cordillera, I have no
means of knowing, but the platform there attains a height of about
three thousand feet above the level of the sea; we must therefore look
to the mountains of that great chain for its source; and worthy of such
a source are streams that have flowed over the gently inclined bed of
the sea to a distance of one hundred miles. At the first glance of the
basaltic cliffs on the opposite sides of the valley, it was evident
that the strata once were united. What power, then, has removed along
a whole line of country, a solid mass of very hard rock, which had an
average thickness of nearly three hundred feet, and a breadth varying
from rather less than two miles to four miles? The river, though it
has so little power in transporting even inconsiderable fragments, yet
in the lapse of ages might produce by its gradual erosion an effect of
which it is difficult to judge the amount. But in this case,
independently of the insignificance of such an agency, good reasons can
be assigned for believing that this valley was formerly occupied by an
arm of the sea. It is needless in this work to detail the arguments
leading to this conclusion, derived from the form and the nature of the
step-formed terraces on both sides of the valley, from the manner in
which the bottom of the valley near the Andes expands into a great
estuary-like plain with sand-hillocks on it, and from the occurrence of
a few sea-shells lying in the bed of the river. If I had space I could
prove that South America was formerly here cut off by a strait, joining
the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, like that of Magellan. But it may yet
be asked, how has the solid basalt been moved? Geologists formerly
would have brought into play the violent action of some overwhelming
debacle; but in this case such a supposition would have been quite
inadmissible, because, the same step-like plains with existing
sea-shells lying on their surface, which front the long line of the
Patagonian coast, sweep up on each side of the valley of Santa Cruz. No
possible action of any flood could thus have modelled the land, either
within the valley or along the open coast; and by the formation of such
step-like plains or terraces the valley itself had been hollowed out.
Although we know that there are tides, which run within the Narrows of
the Strait of Magellan at the rate of eight knots an hour, yet we must
confess that it makes the head almost giddy to reflect on the number of
years, century after century, which the tides, unaided by a heavy surf,
must have required to have corroded so vast an area and thickness of
solid basaltic lava. Nevertheless, we must believe that the strata
undermined by the waters of this ancient strait, were broken up into
huge fragments, and these lying scattered on the beach were reduced
first to smaller blocks, then to pebbles and lastly to the most
impalpable mud, which the tides drifted far into the Eastern or Western
Ocean.
With the change in the geological structure of the plains the character
of the landscape likewise altered. While rambling up some of the
narrow and rocky defiles, I could almost have fancied myself
transported back again to the barren valleys of the island of St. Jago.
Among the basaltic cliffs I found some plants which I had seen nowhere
else, but others I recognised as being wanderers from Tierra del Fuego.
These porous rocks serve as a reservoir for the scanty rain-water; and
consequently on the line where the igneous and sedimentary formations
unite, some small springs (most rare occurrences in Patagonia) burst
forth; and they could be distinguished at a distance by the
circumscribed patches of bright green herbage.
April 27th.--The bed of the river became rather narrower and hence the
stream more rapid. It here ran at the rate of six knots an hour. From
this cause, and from the many great angular fragments, tracking the
boats became both dangerous and laborious.
This day I shot a condor. It measured from tip to tip of the wings,
eight and a half feet, and from beak to tail, four feet. This bird is
known to have a wide geographical range, being found on the west coast
of South America, from the Strait of Magellan along the Cordillera as
far as eight degrees north of the equator. The steep cliff near the
mouth of the Rio Negro is its northern limit on the Patagonian coast;
and they have there wandered about four hundred miles from the great
central line of their habitations in the Andes. Further south, among
the bold precipices at the head of Port Desire, the condor is not
uncommon; yet only a few stragglers occasionally visit the sea-coast. A
line of cliff near the mouth of the Santa Cruz is frequented by these
birds, and about eighty miles up the river, where the sides of the
valley are formed by steep basaltic precipices, the condor reappears.
From these facts it seems that the condors require perpendicular
cliffs. In Chile, they haunt, during the greater part of the year, the
lower country near the shores of the Pacific, and at night several
roost together in one tree; but in the early part of summer, they
retire to the most inaccessible parts of the inner Cordillera, there to
breed in peace.
With respect to their propagation, I was told by the country people in
Chile, that the condor makes no sort of nest, but in the months of
November and December lays two large white eggs on a shelf of bare
rock. It is said that the young condors cannot fly for an entire year;
and long after they are able, they continue to roost by night, and hunt
by day with their parents. The old birds generally live in pairs; but
among the inland basaltic cliffs of the Santa Cruz, I found a spot,
where scores must usually haunt. On coming suddenly to the brow of the
precipice, it was a grand spectacle to see between twenty and thirty of
these great birds start heavily from their resting-place, and wheel
away in majestic circles. From the quantity of dung on the rocks they
must long have frequented this cliff for roosting and breeding. Having
gorged themselves with carrion on the plains below, they retire to
these favourite ledges to digest their food. From these facts, the
condor, like the gallinazo, must to a certain degree be considered as a
gregarious bird. In this part of the country they live altogether on
the guanacos which have died a natural death, or as more commonly
happens, have been killed by the pumas. I believe, from what I saw in
Patagonia, that they do not on ordinary occasions extend their daily
excursions to any great distance from their regular sleeping-places.
The condors may oftentimes be seen at a great height, soaring over a
certain spot in the most graceful circles. On some occasions I am sure
that they do this only for pleasure, but on others, the Chileno
countryman tells you that they are watching a dying animal, or the puma
devouring its prey. If the condors glide down, and then suddenly all
rise together, the Chileno knows that it is the puma which, watching
the carcass, has sprung out to drive away the robbers. Besides feeding
on carrion, the condors frequently attack young goats and lambs; and
the shepherd-dogs are trained, whenever they pass over, to run out, and
looking upwards to bark violently. The Chilenos destroy and catch
numbers. Two methods are used; one is to place a carcass on a level
piece of ground within an enclosure of sticks with an opening, and when
the condors are gorged to gallop up on horseback to the entrance, and
thus enclose them: for when this bird has not space to run, it cannot
give its body sufficient momentum to rise from the ground. The second
method is to mark the trees in which, frequently to the number of five
or six together, they roost, and they at night to climb up and noose
them. They are such heavy sleepers, as I have myself witnessed, that
this is not a difficult task. At Valparaiso, I have seen a living
condor sold for sixpence, but the common price is eight or ten
shillings. One which I saw brought in, had been tied with rope, and was
much injured; yet, the moment the line was cut by which its bill was
secured, although surrounded by people, it began ravenously to tear a
piece of carrion. In a garden at the same place, between twenty and
thirty were kept alive. They were fed only once a week, but they
appeared in pretty good health. [2] The Chileno countrymen assert that
the condor will live, and retain its vigour, between five and six weeks
without eating: I cannot answer for the truth of this, but it is a
cruel experiment, which very likely has been tried.
When an animal is killed in the country, it is well known that the
condors, like other carrion-vultures, soon gain intelligence of it, and
congregate in an inexplicable manner. In most cases it must not be
overlooked, that the birds have discovered their prey, and have picked
the skeleton clean, before the flesh is in the least degree tainted.
Remembering the experiments of M. Audubon, on the little smelling
powers of carrion-hawks, I tried in the above mentioned garden the
following experiment: the condors were tied, each by a rope, in a long
row at the bottom of a wall; and having folded up a piece of meat in
white paper, I walked backwards and forwards, carrying it in my hand at
the distance of about three yards from them, but no notice whatever was
taken. I then threw it on the ground, within one yard of an old male
bird; he looked at it for a moment with attention, but then regarded it
no more. With a stick I pushed it closer and closer, until at last he
touched it with his beak; the paper was then instantly torn off with
fury, and at the same moment, every bird in the long row began
struggling and flapping its wings. Under the same circumstances, it
would have been quite impossible to have deceived a dog. The evidence
in favour of and against the acute smelling powers of carrion-vultures
is singularly balanced. Professor Owen has demonstrated that the
olfactory nerves of the turkey-buzzard (Cathartes aura) are highly
developed, and on the evening when Mr. Owen's paper was read at the
Zoological Society, it was mentioned by a gentleman that he had seen
the carrion-hawks in the West Indies on two occasions collect on the
roof of a house, when a corpse had become offensive from not having
been buried, in this case, the intelligence could hardly have been
acquired by sight. On the other hand, besides the experiments of
Audubon and that one by myself, Mr. Bachman has tried in the United
States many varied plans, showing that neither the turkey-buzzard (the
species dissected by Professor Owen) nor the gallinazo find their food
by smell. He covered portions of highly-offensive offal with a thin
canvas cloth, and strewed pieces of meat on it: these the
carrion-vultures ate up, and then remained quietly standing, with their
beaks within the eighth of an inch of the putrid mass, without
discovering it. A small rent was made in the canvas, and the offal was
immediately discovered; the canvas was replaced by a fresh piece, and
meat again put on it, and was again devoured by the vultures without
their discovering the hidden mass on which they were trampling. These
facts are attested by the signatures of six gentlemen, besides that of
Mr. Bachman. [3]
Often when lying down to rest on the open plains, on looking upwards, I
have seen carrion-hawks sailing through the air at a great height.
Where the country is level I do not believe a space of the heavens, of
more than fifteen degrees above the horizon, is commonly viewed with
any attention by a person either walking or on horseback. If such be
the case, and the vulture is on the wing at a height of between three
and four thousand feet, before it could come within the range of
vision, its distance in a straight line from the beholder's eye, would
be rather more than two British miles. Might it not thus readily be
overlooked? When an animal is killed by the sportsman in a lonely
valley, may he not all the while be watched from above by the
sharp-sighted bird? And will not the manner of its descend proclaim
throughout the district to the whole family of carrion-feeders, that
their prey is at hand?
When the condors are wheeling in a flock round and round any spot,
their flight is beautiful. Except when rising from the ground, I do
not recollect ever having seen one of these birds flap its wings. Near
Lima, I watched several for nearly half an hour, without once taking
off my eyes, they moved in large curves, sweeping in circles,
descending and ascending without giving a single flap. As they glided
close over my head, I intently watched from an oblique position, the
outlines of the separate and great terminal feathers of each wing; and
these separate feathers, if there had been the least vibratory
movement, would have appeared as if blended together; but they were
seen distinct against the blue sky. The head and neck were moved
frequently, and apparently with force; and the extended wings seemed to
form the fulcrum on which the movements of the neck, body, and tail
acted. If the bird wished to descend, the wings were for a moment
collapsed; and when again expanded with an altered inclination, the
momentum gained by the rapid descent seemed to urge the bird upwards
with the even and steady movement of a paper kite. In the case of any
bird soaring, its motion must be sufficiently rapid so that the action
of the inclined surface of its body on the atmosphere may
counterbalance its gravity. The force to keep up the momentum of a
body moving in a horizontal plane in the air (in which there is so
little friction) cannot be great, and this force is all that is wanted.
The movements of the neck and body of the condor, we must suppose, is
sufficient for this. However this may be, it is truly wonderful and
beautiful to see so great a bird, hour after hour, without any apparent
exertion, wheeling and gliding over mountain and river.
April 29th.--From some high land we hailed with joy the white summits
of the Cordillera, as they were seen occasionally peeping through their
dusky envelope of clouds. During the few succeeding days we continued
to get on slowly, for we found the river-course very tortuous, and
strewed with immense fragments of various ancient slate rocks, and of
granite. The plain bordering the valley has here attained an elevation
of about 1100 feet above the river, and its character was much altered.
The well-rounded pebbles of porphyry were mingled with many immense
angular fragments of basalt and of primary rocks. The first of these
erratic boulders which I noticed, was sixty-seven miles distant from
the nearest mountain; another which I measured was five yards square,
and projected five feet above the gravel. Its edges were so angular,
and its size so great, that I at first mistook it for a rock _in situ_,
and took out my compass to observe the direction of its cleavage. The
plain here was not quite so level as that nearer the coast, but yet in
betrayed no signs of any great violence. Under these circumstances it
is, I believe, quite impossible to explain the transportal of these
gigantic masses of rock so many miles from their parent-source, on any
theory except by that of floating icebergs.
During the two last days we met with signs of horses, and with several
small articles which had belonged to the Indians--such as parts of a
mantle and a bunch of ostrich feathers--, but they appeared to have
been lying long on the ground. Between the place where the Indians had
so lately crossed the river and this neighbourhood, though so many
miles apart, the country appears to be quite unfrequented. At first,
considering the abundance of the guanacos, I was surprised at this; but
it is explained by the stony nature of the plains, which would soon
disable an unshod horse from taking part in the chase. Nevertheless,
in two places in this very central region, I found small heaps of
stones, which I do not think could have been accidentally thrown
together. They were placed on points, projecting over the edge of the
highest lava cliff, and they resembled, but on a small scale, those
near Port Desire.
May 4th.--Captain Fitz Roy determined to take the boats no higher. The
river had a winding course, and was very rapid; and the appearance of
the country offered no temptation to proceed any further. Everywhere we
met with the same productions, and the same dreary landscape. We were
now one hundred and forty miles distant from the Atlantic and about
sixty from the nearest arm of the Pacific. The valley in this upper
part expanded into a wide basin, bounded on the north and south by the
basaltic platforms, and fronted by the long range of the snow-clad
Cordillera. But we viewed these grand mountains with regret, for we
were obliged to imagine their nature and productions, instead of
standing, as we had hoped, on their summits. Besides the useless loss
of time which an attempt to ascend the river and higher would have cost
us, we had already been for some days on half allowance of bread. This,
although really enough for reasonable men, was, after a hard day's
march, rather scanty food: a light stomach and an easy digestion are
good things to talk about, but very unpleasant in practice.
5th.--Before sunrise we commenced our descent. We shot down the stream
with great rapidity, generally at the rate of ten knots an hour. In
this one day we effected what had cost us five-and-a-half hard days'
labour in ascending. On the 8th, we reached the Beagle after our
twenty-one days' expedition. Every one, excepting myself, had cause to
be dissatisfied; but to me the ascent afforded a most interesting
section of the great tertiary formation of Patagonia.
On March 1st, 1833, and again on March 16th, 1834, the Beagle anchored
in Berkeley Sound, in East Falkland Island. This archipelago is
situated in nearly the same latitude with the mouth of the Strait of
Magellan; it covers a space of one hundred and twenty by sixty
geographical miles, and is little more than half the size of Ireland.
After the possession of these miserable islands had been contested by
France, Spain, and England, they were left uninhabited. The government
of Buenos Ayres then sold them to a private individual, but likewise
used them, as old Spain had done before, for a penal settlement.
England claimed her right and seized them. The Englishman who was left
in charge of the flag was consequently murdered. A British officer was
next sent, unsupported by any power: and when we arrived, we found him
in charge of a population, of which rather more than half were runaway
rebels and murderers.
The theatre is worthy of the scenes acted on it. An undulating land,
with a desolate and wretched aspect, is everywhere covered by a peaty
soil and wiry grass, of one monotonous brown colour. Here and there a
peak or ridge of grey quartz rock breaks through the smooth surface
Every one has heard of the climate of these regions; it may be compared
to that which is experienced at the height of between one and two
thousand feet, on the mountains of North Wales; having however less
sunshine and less frost but more wind and rain. [4]
16th.--I will now describe a short excursion which made round a part of
this island. In the morning I started with six horses and two Gauchos:
the latter were capital men for the purpose, and well accustomed to
living on their own resources. The weather was very boisterous and
cold with heavy hail-storms. We got on, however, pretty well but,
except the geology, nothing could be less interesting than our day's
ride. The country is uniformly the same undulating moorland; the
surface being covered by light brown withered grass and a few very
small shrubs, all springing out of an elastic peaty soil. In the
valleys here and there might be seen a small flock of wild geese, and
everywhere the ground was so soft that the snipe were able to feed.
Besides these two birds there were few others. There is one main range
of hills, nearly two thousand feet in height, and composed of quartz
rock, the rugged and barren crests of which gave us some trouble to
cross. On the south side we came to the best country for wild cattle;
we met, however, no great number, for they had been lately much
harassed.
In the evening we came across a small herd. One of my companions, St.
Jago by name, soon separated a fat cow: he threw the bolas, and it
struck her legs, but failed in becoming entangled. Then dropping his
hat to mark the spot where the balls were left, while at full gallop,
he uncoiled his lazo, and after a most severe chase, again came up to
the cow, and caught her round the horns. The other Gaucho had gone on
ahead with the spare horses, so that St. Jago had some difficulty in
killing the furious beast. He managed to get her on a level piece of
ground, by taking advantage of her as often as she rushed at him; and
when she would not move, my horse, from having been trained, would
canter up, and with his chest give her a violent push. But when on
level ground it does not appear an easy job for one man to kill a beast
mad with terror. Nor would it be so, if the horse, when left to itself
without its rider, did not soon learn, for its own safety, to keep the
lazo tight, so that, if the cow or ox moves forward, the horse moves
just as quickly forward; otherwise, it stands motionless leaning on one
side. This horse, however, was a young one, and would not stand still,
but gave in to the cow as she struggled. It was admirable to see with
what dexterity St. Jago dodged behind the beast, till at last he
contrived to give the fatal touch to the main tendon of the hind leg
after which, without much difficulty, he drove his knife into the head
of the spinal marrow, and the cow dropped as if struck by lightning. He
cut off pieces of flesh with the skin to it, but without any bones,
sufficient for our expedition. We then rode on to our sleeping-place,
and had for supper "carne con cuero," or meat roasted with the skin on
it. This is as superior to common beef as venison is to mutton. A
large circular piece taken from the back is roasted on the embers with
the hide downwards and is the form of a saucer, so that none of the
gravy is lost. If any worthy alderman had supped with us that evening,
"carne con cuero," without doubt, would soon have been celebrated in
London.
During the night it rained, and the next day (17th) was very stormy,
with much hail and snow. We rode across the island to the neck of land
which joins the Rincon del Toro (the great peninsula at the S. W.
extremity) to the rest of the island. From the great number of cows
which have been killed, there is a large proportion of bulls. These
wander about single, or two and three together, and are very savage. I
never saw such magnificent beasts; they equalled in the size of their
huge heads and necks the Grecian marble sculptures. Capt. Sulivan
informs me that the hide of an average-sized bull weighs forty-seven
pounds, whereas a hide of this weight, less thoroughly dried, is
considered as a very heavy one at Monte Video. The young bulls
generally run away, for a short distance; but the old ones do not stir
a step, except to rush at man and horse; and many horses have been thus
killed. An old bull crossed a boggy stream, and took his stand on the
opposite side to us; we in vain tried to drive him away, and failing,
were obliged to make a large circuit. The Gauchos in revenge
determined to emasculate him and render him for the future harmless. It
was very interesting to see how art completely mastered force. One
lazo was thrown over his horns as he rushed at the horse, and another
round his hind legs: in a minute the monster was stretched powerless on
the ground. After the lazo has once been drawn tightly round the horns
of a furious animal, it does not at first appear an easy thing to
disengage it again without killing the beast: nor, I apprehend, would
it be so if the man was by himself. By the aid, however, of a second
person throwing his lazo so as to catch both hind legs, it is quickly
managed: for the animal, as long as its hind legs are kept
outstretched, is quite helpless, and the first man can with his hands
loosen his lazo from the horns, and then quietly mount his horse; but
the moment the second man, by backing ever so little, relaxes the
strain, the lazo slips off the legs of the struggling beast, which then
rises free, shakes himself, and vainly rushes at his antagonist.
During our whole ride we saw only one troop of wild horses. These
animals, as well as the cattle, were introduced by the French in 1764,
since which time both have greatly increased. It is a curious fact,
that the horses have never left the eastern end of the island, although
there is no natural boundary to prevent them from roaming, and that
part of the island is not more tempting than the rest. The Gauchos
whom I asked, though asserting this to be the case, were unable to
account for it, except from the strong attachment which horses have to
any locality to which they are accustomed. Considering that the island
does not appear fully stocked, and that there are no beasts of prey, I
was particularly curious to know what has checked their originally
rapid increase. That in a limited island some check would sooner or
later supervene, is inevitable; but why had the increase of the horse
been checked sooner than that of the cattle? Capt. Sulivan has taken
much pains for me in this inquiry. The Gauchos employed here attribute
it chiefly to the stallions constantly roaming from place to place, and
compelling the mares to accompany them, whether or not the young foals
are able to follow. One Gaucho told Capt. Sulivan that he had watched
a stallion for a whole hour, violently kicking and biting a mare till
he forced her to leave her foal to its fate. Capt. Sulivan can so far
corroborate this curious account, that he has several times found young
foals dead, whereas he has never found a dead calf. Moreover, the dead
bodies of full-grown horses are more frequently found, as if more
subject to disease or accidents, than those of the cattle. From the
softness of the ground their hoofs often grow irregularly to a great
length, and this causes lameness. The predominant colours are roan and
iron-grey. All the horses bred here, both tame and wild, are rather
small-sized, though generally in good condition; and they have lost so
much strength, that they are unfit to be used in taking wild cattle
with the lazo: in consequence, it is necessary to go to the great
expense of importing fresh horses from the Plata. At some future
period the southern hemisphere probably will have its breed of Falkland
ponies, as the northern has its Shetland breed.
The cattle, instead of having degenerated like the horses seem, as
before remarked, to have increased in size; and they are much more
numerous than the horses. Capt. Sulivan informs me that they vary much
less in the general form of their bodies and in the shape of their
horns than English cattle. In colour they differ much; and it is a
remarkable circumstance, that in different parts of this one small
island, different colours predominate. Round Mount Usborne, at a
height of from 1000 to 1500 feet above the sea, about half of some of
the herds are mouse or lead-coloured, a tint which is not common in
other parts of the island. Near Port Pleasant dark brown prevails,
whereas south of Choiseul Sound (which almost divides the island into
two parts), white beasts with black heads and feet are the most common:
in all parts black, and some spotted animals may be observed. Capt.
Sulivan remarks, that the difference in the prevailing colours was so
obvious, that in looking for the herds near Port Pleasant, they
appeared from a long distance like black spots, whilst south of
Choiseul Sound they appeared like white spots on the hill-sides. Capt.
Sulivan thinks that the herds do not mingle; and it is a singular fact,
that the mouse-coloured cattle, though living on the high land, calve
about a month earlier in the season than the other coloured beasts on
the lower land. It is interesting thus to find the once domesticated
cattle breaking into three colours, of which some one colour would in
all probability ultimately prevail over the others, if the herds were
left undisturbed for the next several centuries.
The rabbit is another animal which has been introduced; and has
succeeded very well; so that they abound over large parts of the
island. Yet, like the horses, they are confined within certain limits;
for they have not crossed the central chain of hills, nor would they
have extended even so far as its base, if, as the Gauchos informed me,
small colonies has not been carried there. I should not have supposed
that these animals, natives of northern Africa, could have existed in a
climate so humid as this, and which enjoys so little sunshine that even
wheat ripens only occasionally. It is asserted that in Sweden, which
any one would have thought a more favourable climate, the rabbit cannot
live out of doors. The first few pairs, moreover, had here to content
against pre-existing enemies, in the fox and some large hawks. The
French naturalists have considered the black variety a distinct
species, and called it Lepus Magellanicus. [5] They imagined that
Magellan, when talking of an animal under the name of "conejos" in the
Strait of Magellan, referred to this species; but he was alluding to a
small cavy, which to this day is thus called by the Spaniards. The
Gauchos laughed at the idea of the black kind being different from the
grey, and they said that at all events it had not extended its range
any further than the grey kind; that the two were never found separate;
and that they readily bred together, and produced piebald offspring. Of
the latter I now possess a specimen, and it is marked about the head
differently from the French specific description. This circumstance
shows how cautious naturalists should be in making species; for even
Cuvier, on looking at the skull of one of these rabbits, thought it was
probably distinct!
The only quadruped native to the island [6]; is a large wolf-like fox
(Canis antarcticus), which is common to both East and West Falkland. I
have no doubt it is a peculiar species, and confined to this
archipelago; because many sealers, Gauchos, and Indians, who have
visited these islands, all maintain that no such animal is found in any
part of South America.
Molina, from a similarity in habits, thought that this was the same
with his "culpeu;" [7] but I have seen both, and they are quite
distinct. These wolves are well known from Byron's account of their
tameness and curiosity, which the sailors, who ran into the water to
avoid them, mistook for fierceness. To this day their manners remain
the same. They have been observed to enter a tent, and actually pull
some meat from beneath the head of a sleeping seaman. The Gauchos also
have frequently in the evening killed them, by holding out a piece of
meat in one hand, and in the other a knife ready to stick them. As far
as I am aware, there is no other instance in any part of the world, of
so small a mass of broken land, distant from a continent, possessing so
large an aboriginal quadruped peculiar to itself. Their numbers have
rapidly decreased; they are already banished from that half of the
island which lies to the eastward of the neck of land between St.
Salvador Bay and Berkeley Sound. Within a very few years after these
islands shall have become regularly settled, in all probability this
for will be classed with the dodo, as an animal which has perished from
the face of the earth.
At night (17th) we slept on the neck of land at the head of Choiseul
Sound, which forms the south-west peninsula. The valley was pretty well
sheltered from the cold wind, but there was very little brushwood for
fuel. The Gauchos, however, soon found what, to my great surprise,
made nearly as hot a fire as coals; this was the skeleton of a bullock
lately killed, from which the flesh had been picked by the
carrion-hawks. They told me that in winter they often killed a beast,
cleaned the flesh from the bones with their knives, and then with these
same bones roasted the meat for their suppers.
18th.--It rained during nearly the whole day. At night we managed,
however, with our saddle-cloths to keep ourselves pretty well dry and
warm; but the ground on which we slept was on each occasion nearly in
the state of a bog, and there was not a dry spot to sit down on after
our day's ride. I have in another part stated how singular it is that
there should be absolutely no trees on these islands, although Tierra
del Fuego is covered by one large forest. The largest bush in the
island (belonging to the family of Compositae) is scarcely so tall as
our gorse. The best fuel is afforded by a green little bush about the
size of common heath, which has the useful property of burning while
fresh and green. It was very surprising to see the Gauchos, in the
midst of rain and everything soaking wet, with nothing more than a
tinder-box and a piece of rag, immediately make a fire. They sought
beneath the tufts of grass and bushel for a few dry twigs, and these
they rubbed into fibres; then surrounding them with coarser twigs,
something like a bird's nest, they put the rag with its spark of fire
in the middle and covered it up. The nest being then held up to the
wind, by degrees it smoked more and more, and at last burst out in
flames. I do not think any other method would have had a chance of
succeeding with such damp materials.
19th.--Each morning, from not having ridden for some time previously, I
was very stiff. I was surprised to hear the Gauchos, who have from
infancy almost lived on horseback, say that, under similar
circumstances, they always suffer. St. Jago told me, that having been
confined for three months by illness, he went out hunting wild cattle,
and in consequence, for the next two days, his thighs were so stiff
that he was obliged to lie in bed. This shows that the Gauchos,
although they do not appear to do so, yet really must exert much
muscular effort in riding. The hunting wild cattle, in a country so
difficult to pass as this is on account of the swampy ground, must be
very hard work. The Gauchos say they often pass at full speed over
ground which would be impassable at a slower pace; in the same manner
as a man is able to skate over thin ice. When hunting, the party
endeavours to get as close as possible to the herd without being
discovered. Each man carries four or five pair of the bolas; these he
throws one after the other at as many cattle, which, when once
entangled, are left for some days till they become a little exhausted
by hunger and struggling. They are then let free and driven towards a
small herd of tame animals, which have been brought to the spot on
purpose. From their previous treatment, being too much terrified to
leave the herd, they are easily driven, if their strength last out, to
the settlement.
The weather continued so very bad that we determine to make a push, and
try to reach the vessel before night. From the quantity of rain which
had fallen, the surface of the whole country was swampy. I suppose my
horse fell at least a dozen times, and sometimes the whole six horses
were floundering in the mud together. All the little streams are
bordered by soft peat, which makes it very difficult for the horses to
leap them without falling. To complete our discomforts we were obliged
to cross the head of a creek of the sea, in which the water was as high
as our horses' backs; and the little waves, owing to the violence of
the wind, broke over us, and made us very wet and cold. Even the
iron-framed Gauchos professed themselves glad when they reached the
settlement, after our little excursion.
The geological structure of these islands is in most respects simple.
The lower country consists of clay-slate and sandstone, containing
fossils, very closely related to, but not identical with, those found
in the Silurian formations of Europe; the hills are formed of white
granular quartz rock. The strata of the latter are frequently arched
with perfect symmetry, and the appearance of some of the masses is in
consequence most singular. Pernety [8] has devoted several pages to
the description of a Hill of Ruins, the successive strata of which he
has justly compared to the seats of an amphitheatre. The quartz rock
must have been quite pasty when it underwent such remarkable flexures
without being shattered into fragments. As the quartz insensibly
passes into the sandstone, it seems probable that the former owes its
origin to the sandstone having been heated to such a degree that it
became viscid, and upon cooling crystallized. While in the soft state
it must have been pushed up through the overlying beds.
In many parts of the island the bottoms of the valleys are covered in
an extraordinary manner by myriads of great loose angular fragments of
the quartz rock, forming "streams of stones." These have been mentioned
with surprise by every voyager since the time of Pernety. The blocks
are not water-worn, their angles being only a little blunted; they vary
in size from one or two feet in diameter to ten, or even more than
twenty times as much. They are not thrown together into irregular
piles, but are spread out into level sheets or great streams. It is
not possible to ascertain their thickness, but the water of small
streamlets can be heard trickling through the stones many feet below
the surface. The actual depth is probably great, because the crevices
between the lower fragments must long ago have been filled up with
sand. The width of these sheets of stones varied from a few hundred
feet to a mile; but the peaty soil daily encroaches on the borders, and
even forms islets wherever a few fragments happen to lie close
together. In a valley south of Berkeley Sound, which some of our party
called the "great valley of fragments," it was necessary to cross an
uninterrupted band half a mile wide, by jumping from one pointed stone
to another. So large were the fragments, that being overtaken by a
shower of rain, I readily found shelter beneath one of them.
Their little inclination is the most remarkable circumstance in these
"streams of stones." On the hill-sides I have seen them sloping at an
angle of ten degrees with the horizon; but in some of the level,
broad-bottomed valleys, the inclination is only just sufficient to be
clearly perceived. On so rugged a surface there was no means of
measuring the angle, but to give a common illustration, I may say that
the slope would not have checked the speed of an English mail-coach. In
some places, a continuous stream of these fragments followed up the
course of a valley, and even extended to the very crest of the hill. On
these crests huge masses, exceeding in dimensions any small building,
seemed to stand arrested in their headlong course: there, also, the
curved strata of the archways lay piled on each other, like the ruins
of some vast and ancient cathedral. In endeavouring to describe these
scenes of violence one is tempted to pass from one simile to another.
We may imagine that streams of white lava had flowed from many parts of
the mountains into the lower country, and that when solidified they had
been rent by some enormous convulsion into myriads of fragments. The
expression "streams of stones," which immediately occurred to every
one, conveys the same idea. These scenes are on the spot rendered more
striking by the contrast of the low rounded forms of the neighbouring
hills.
I was interested by finding on the highest peak of one range (about 700
feet above the sea) a great arched fragment, lying on its convex side,
or back downwards. Must we believe that it was fairly pitched up in
the air, and thus turned? Or, with more probability, that there
existed formerly a part of the same range more elevated than the point
on which this monument of a great convulsion of nature now lies. As
the fragments in the valleys are neither rounded nor the crevices
filled up with sand, we must infer that the period of violence was
subsequent to the land having been raised above the waters of the sea.
In a transverse section within these valleys, the bottom is nearly
level, or rises but very little towards either side. Hence the
fragments appear to have travelled from the head of the valley; but in
reality it seems more probable that they have been hurled down from the
nearest slopes; and that since, by a vibratory movement of overwhelming
force, [9] the fragments have been levelled into one continuous sheet.
If during the earthquake [10] which in 1835 overthrew Concepcion, in
Chile, it was thought wonderful that small bodies should have been
pitched a few inches from the ground, what must we say to a movement
which has caused fragments many tons in weight, to move onwards like so
much sand on a vibrating board, and find their level? I have seen, in
the Cordillera of the Andes, the evident marks where stupendous
mountains have been broken into pieces like so much thin crust, and the
strata thrown of their vertical edges; but never did any scene, like
these "streams of stones," so forcibly convey to my mind the idea of a
convulsion, of which in historical records we might in vain seek for
any counterpart: yet the progress of knowledge will probably some day
give a simple explanation of this phenomenon, as it already has of the
so long-thought inexplicable transportal of the erratic boulders, which
are strewed over the plains of Europe.
I have little to remark on the zoology of these islands. have before
described the carrion-vulture of Polyborus. There are some other hawks,
owls, and a few small land-birds. The water-fowl are particularly
numerous, and they must formerly, from the accounts of the old
navigators, have been much more so. One day I observed a cormorant
playing with a fish which it had caught. Eight times successively the
bird let its prey go, then dived after it, and although in deep water,
brought it each time to the surface. In the Zoological Gardens I have
seen the otter treat a fish in the same manner, much as a cat does a
mouse: I do not know of any other instance where dame Nature appears so
wilfully cruel. Another day, having placed myself between a penguin
(Aptenodytes demersa) and the water, I was much amused by watching its
habits. It was a brave bird; and till reaching the sea, it regularly
fought and drove me backwards. Nothing less than heavy blows would have
stopped him; every inch he gained he firmly kept, standing close before
me erect and determined. When thus opposed he continually rolled his
head from side to side, in a very odd manner, as if the power of
distinct vision lay only in the anterior and basal part of each eye.
This bird is commonly called the jackass penguin, from its habit, while
on shore, of throwing its head backwards, and making a loud strange
noise, very like the braying of an ass; but while at sea, and
undisturbed, its note is very deep and solemn, and is often heard in
the night-time. In diving, its little wings are used as fins; but on
the land, as front legs. When crawling, it may be said on four legs,
through the tussocks or on the side of a grassy cliff, it moves so very
quickly that it might easily be mistaken for a quadruped. When at sea
and fishing, it comes to the surface for the purpose of breathing with
such a spring, and dives again so instantaneously, that I defy any one
at first sight to be sure that it was not a fish leaping for sport.
Two kinds of geese frequent the Falklands. The upland species (Anas
Magellanica) is common, in pairs and in small flocks, throughout the
island. They do not migrate, but build on the small outlying islets.
This is supposed to be from fear of the foxes: and it is perhaps from
the same cause that these birds, though very tame by day, are shy and
wild in the dusk of the evening. They live entirely on vegetable
matter.
The rock-goose, so called from living exclusively on the sea-beach
(Anas antarctica), is common both here and on the west coast of
America, as far north as Chile. In the deep and retired channels of
Tierra del Fuego, the snow-white gander, invariably accompanied by his
darker consort, and standing close by each other on some distant rocky
point, is a common feature in the landscape.
In these islands a great loggerheaded duck or goose (Anas brachyptera),
which sometimes weighs twenty-two pounds, is very abundant. These
birds were in former days called, from their extraordinary manner of
paddling and splashing upon the water, race-horses; but now they are
named, much more appropriately, steamers. Their wings are too small
and weak to allow of flight, but by their aid, partly swimming and
partly flapping the surface of the water, they move very quickly. The
manner is something like that by which the common house-duck escapes
when pursued by a dog; but I am nearly sure that the steamer moves its
wings alternately, instead of both together, as in other birds. These
clumsy, loggerheaded ducks make such a noise and splashing, that the
effect is exceedingly curious.
Thus we find in South America three birds which use their wings for
other purposes besides flight; the penguins as fins, the steamer as
paddles, and the ostrich as sails: and the Apteryz of New Zealand, as
well as its gigantic extinct prototype the Deinornis, possess only
rudimentary representatives of wings. The steamer is able to dive only
to a very short distance. It feeds entirely on shell-fish from the
kelp and tidal rocks: hence the beak and head, for the purpose of
breaking them, are surprisingly heavy and strong: the head is so strong
that I have scarcely been able to fracture it with my geological
hammer; and all our sportsmen soon discovered how tenacious these birds
were of life. When in the evening pluming themselves in a flock, they
make the same odd mixture of sounds which bull-frogs do within the
tropics.
In Tierra del Fuego, as well as in the Falkland Islands, made many
observations on the lower marine animals, [11] but they are of little
general interest. I will mention only one class of facts, relating to
certain zoophytes in the more highly organized division of that class.
Several genera (Flustra, Eschara, Cellaria, Crisia, and others) agree
in having singular moveable organs (like those of Flustra avicularia,
found in the European seas) attached to their cells. The organ, in the
greater number of cases, very closely resembles the head of a vulture;
but the lower mandible can be opened much wider than in a real bird's
beak. The head itself possessed considerable powers of movement, by
means of a short neck. In one zoophyte the head itself was fixed, but
the lower jaw free: in another it was replaced by a triangular hood,
with beautifully-fitted trap-door, which evidently answered to the
lower mandible. In the greater number of species, each cell was
provided with one head, but in others each cell had two.
The young cells at the end of the branches of these corallines contain
quite immature polypi, yet the vulture-head attached to them, though
small, are in every respect perfect When the polypus was removed by a
needle from any of the cells, these organs did not appear in the least
affected. When one of the vulture-like heads was cut off from the
cell, the lower mandible retained its power of opening and closing.
Perhaps the most singular part of their structure is, that when there
were more than two rows of cells on a branch, the central cells were
furnished with these appendages, of only one-fourth the size of the
outside ones. Their movements varied according to the species; but in
some I never saw the least motion; while others, with the lower
mandible generally wide open, oscillated backwards and forwards at the
rate of about five seconds each turn, others moved rapidly and by
starts. When touched with a needle, the beak generally seized the
point so firmly, that the whole branch might be shaken.
These bodies have no relation whatever with the production of the eggs
or gemmules, as they are formed before the young polypi appear in the
cells at the end of the growing branches; as they move independently of
the polypi, and do not appear to be in any way connected with them; and
as they differ in size on the outer and inner rows of cells, I have
little doubt, that in their functions, they are related rather to the
horny axis of the branches than to the polypi in the cells. The fleshy
appendage at the lower extremity of the sea-pen (described at Bahia
Blanca) also forms part of the zoophyte, as a whole, in the same manner
as the roots of a tree form part of the whole tree, and not of the
individual leaf or flower-buds.
In another elegant little coralline (Crisia?), each cell was furnished
with a long-toothed bristle, which had the power of moving quickly.
Each of these bristles and each of the vulture-like heads generally
moved quite independently of the others, but sometimes all on both
sides of a branch, sometimes only those on one side, moved together
coinstantaneously, sometimes each moved in regular order one after
another. In these actions we apparently behold as perfect a
transmission of will in the zoophyte, though composed of thousands of
distinct polypi, as in any single animal. The case, indeed, is not
different from that of the sea-pens, which, when touched, drew
themselves into the sand on the coast of Bahia Blanca. I will state
one other instance of uniform action, though of a very different
nature, in a zoophyte closely allied to Clytia, and therefore very
simply organized. Having kept a large tuft of it in a basin of
salt-water, when it was dark I found that as often as I rubbed any part
of a branch, the whole became strongly phosphorescent with a green
light: I do not think I ever saw any object more beautifully so. But
the remarkable circumstance was, that the flashes of light always
proceeded up the branches, from the base towards the extremities.
The examination of these compound animals was always very interesting
to me. What can be more remarkable that to see a plant-like body
producing an egg, capable of swimming about and of choosing a proper
place to adhere to, which then sprouts into branches, each crowded with
innumerable distinct animals, often of complicated organizations. The
branches, moreover, as we have just seen, sometimes possess organs
capable of movement and independent of the polypi. Surprising as this
union of separate individuals in common stock must always appear, every
tree displays the same fact, for buds must be considered as individual
plants. It is, however, natural to consider a polypus, furnished with a
mouth, intestines, and other organs, as a distinct individual, whereas
the individuality of a leaf-bud is not easily realised, so that the
union of separate individuals in a common body is more striking in a
coralline than in a tree. Our conception of a compound animal, where
in some respects the individuality of each is not completed, may be
aided, by reflecting on the production of two distinct creatures by
bisecting a single one with a knife, or where Nature herself performs
the task of bisection. We may consider the polypi in a zoophyte, or
the buds in a tree, as cases where the division of the individual has
not been completely effected. Certainly in the case of trees, and
judging from analogy in that of corallines, the individuals propagated
by buds seem more intimately related to each other, than eggs or seeds
are to their parents. It seems now pretty well established that plants
propagated by buds all partake of a common duration of life; and it is
familiar to every one, what singular and numerous peculiarities are
transmitted with certainty, by buds, layers, and grafts, which by
seminal propagation never or only casually reappear.
[1] The desserts of Syria are characterized, according to Volney (tom.
i. p. 351), by woody bushes, numerous rats, gazelles and hares. In the
landscape of Patagonia, the guanaco replaces the gazelle, and the
agouti the hare.
[2] I noticed that several hours before any one of the condors died,
all the lice, with which it was infested, crawled to the outside
feathers. I was assured that this always happens.
[3] London's Magazine of Nat. Hist., vol. vii.
[4] From accounts published since our voyage, and more especially from
several interesting letters from Capt. Sulivan, R. N., employed on the
survey, it appears that we took an exaggerated view of the badness of
the climate on these islands. But when I reflect on the almost
universal covering of peat, and on the fact of wheat seldom ripening
here, I can hardly believe that the climate in summer is so fine and
dry as it has lately been represented.
[5] Lesson's Zoology of the Voyage of the Coquille, tom. i. p. 168. All
the early voyagers, and especially Bougainville, distinctly state that
the wolf-like fox was the only native animal on the island. The
distinction of the rabbit as a species, is taken from peculiarities in
the fur, from the shape of the head, and from the shortness of the
ears. I may here observe that the difference between the Irish and
English hare rests upon nearly similar characters, only more strongly
marked.
[6] I have reason, however, to suspect that there is a field-mouse. The
common European rat and mouse have roamed far from the habitations of
the settlers. The common hog has also run wild on one islet; all are
of a black colour: the boars are very fierce, and have great trunks.
[7] The "culpeu" is the Canis Magellanicus brought home by Captain King
from the Strait of Magellan. It is common in Chile.
[8] Pernety, Voyage aux Isles Malouines, p. 526.
[9] "Nous n'avons pas ete moins saisis d'etonnement a la vue de
l'innombrable quantite de pierres de touts grandeurs, bouleversees les
unes sur les autres, et cependent rangees, comme si elles avoient ete
amoncelees negligemment pour remplir des ravins. On ne se lassoit pas
d'admirer les effets prodigieux de la nature."--Pernety, p. 526.
[10] An inhabitant of Mendoza, and hence well capable of judging,
assured me that, during the several years he had resided on these
islands, he had never felt the slightest shock of an earthquake.
[11] I was surprised to find, on counting the eggs of a large white
Doris (this sea-slug was three and a half inches long), how
extraordinarily numerous they were. From two to five eggs (each
three-thousandths of an inch in diameter) were contained in spherical
little case. These were arranged two deep in transverse rows forming a
ribbon. The ribbon adhered by its edge to the rock in an oval spire.
One which I found, measured nearly twenty inches in length and half in
breadth. By counting how many balls were contained in a tenth of an
inch in the row, and how many rows in an equal length of the ribbon, on
the most moderate computation there were six hundred thousand eggs. Yet
this Doris was certainly not very common; although I was often
searching under the stones, I saw only seven individuals. No fallacy
is more common with naturalists, than that the numbers of an individual
species depend on its powers of propagation.