The Project Gutenberg Etext The Voyage of the Beagle, by Charles Darwin
Project Gutenberg Etext A Naturalist's Voyage Round the World by Darwin
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Title: A Naturalist's Voyage Round the World
Title: The Voyage Of The Beagle

Author: Charles Darwin

Release Date: February, 2003  [Etext #3704]
[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
[The actual date this file first posted = 07/29/01]

Edition: 10

Language: English

The Project Gutenberg Etext The Voyage of the Beagle, by Charles Darwin
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A NATURALIST'S VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD

BY

CHARLES DARWIN.




FIRST EDITION...MAY 1860.

SECOND EDITION...MAY 1870.

THIRD EDITION...FEBRUARY 1872.

FOURTH EDITION...JULY 1874.

FIFTH EDITION...MARCH 1876.

SIXTH EDITION...JANUARY 1879.

SEVENTH EDITION...MAY 1882.

EIGHTH EDITION...FEBRUARY 1884.

NINTH EDITION...AUGUST 1886.

TENTH EDITION...JANUARY 1888.

ELEVENTH EDITION...JANUARY 1890.

REPRINTED...JUNE 1913.


(FRONTISPIECE. H.M.S. BEAGLE IN STRAITS OF MAGELLAN. MT.
SARMIENTO IN THE DISTANCE.)


JOURNAL OF RESEARCHES 

INTO THE

NATURAL HISTORY AND GEOLOGY

OF THE

COUNTRIES VISITED DURING THE VOYAGE
ROUND THE WORLD OF H.M.S. 'BEAGLE'
UNDER THE COMMAND OF CAPTAIN FITZ ROY, R.N.

BY CHARLES DARWIN, M.A., F.R.S.

AUTHOR OF 'ORIGIN OF SPECIES,' ETC.


(PLATE 1. H.M.S. BEAGLE UNDER FULL SAIL, VIEW FROM ASTERN.)


A NEW EDITION
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY R.T. PRITCHETT OF PLACES VISITED AND
OBJECTS DESCRIBED.

LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
1913.



TO
CHARLES LYELL, ESQ., F.R.S.,

This second edition is dedicated with grateful pleasure, as an
acknowledgment that the chief part of whatever scientific merit
this journal and the other works of the author may possess, has
been derived from studying the well-known and admirable

PRINCIPLES OF GEOLOGY.


PREFATORY NOTICE TO THE ILLUSTRATED EDITION.

This work was described, on its first appearance, by a writer in
the "Quarterly Review" as "One of the most interesting narratives
of voyaging that it has fallen to our lot to take up, and one
which must always occupy a distinguished place in the history of
scientific navigation."

This prophecy has been amply verified by experience; the
extraordinary minuteness and accuracy of Mr. Darwin's
observations, combined with the charm and simplicity of his
descriptions, have ensured the popularity of this book with all
classes of readers--and that popularity has even increased in
recent years.  No attempt, however, has hitherto been made to
produce an illustrated edition of this valuable work: numberless
places and objects are mentioned and described, but the
difficulty of obtaining authentic and original representations of
them drawn for the purpose has never been overcome until now.

Most of the views given in this work are from sketches made on
the spot by Mr. Pritchett, with Mr. Darwin's book by his side. 
Some few of the others are taken from engravings which Mr. Darwin
had himself selected for their interest as illustrating his
voyage, and which have been kindly lent by his son.

Mr. Pritchett's name is well known in connection with the voyages
of the "Sunbeam" and "Wanderer," and it is believed that the
illustrations, which have been chosen and verified with the
utmost care and pains, will greatly add to the value and interest
of the "VOYAGE OF A NATURALIST."

JOHN MURRAY.
December 1889.



AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

I have stated in the preface to the first Edition of this work,
and in the "Zoology of the Voyage of the Beagle," that it was in
consequence of a wish expressed by Captain Fitz Roy, of having
some scientific person on board, accompanied by an offer from him
of giving up part of his own accommodations, that I volunteered
my services, which received, through the kindness of the
hydrographer, Captain Beaufort, the sanction of the Lords of the
Admiralty. As I feel that the opportunities which I enjoyed of
studying the Natural History of the different countries we
visited have been wholly due to Captain Fitz Roy, I hope I may
here be permitted to repeat my expression of gratitude to him;
and to add that, during the five years we were together, I
received from him the most cordial friendship and steady
assistance. Both to Captain Fitz Roy and to all the Officers of
the "Beagle" I shall ever feel most thankful for the undeviating
kindness with which I was treated during our long voyage.
(Preface/1. I must take this opportunity of returning my sincere
thanks to Mr. Bynoe, the surgeon of the "Beagle," for his very
kind attention to me when I was ill at Valparaiso.)

This volume contains, in the form of a Journal, a history of our
voyage, and a sketch of those observations in Natural History and
Geology, which I think will possess some interest for the general
reader. I have in this edition largely condensed and corrected
some parts, and have added a little to others, in order to render
the volume more fitted for popular reading; but I trust that
naturalists will remember that they must refer for details to the
larger publications which comprise the scientific results of the
Expedition. The "Zoology of the Voyage of the 'Beagle'" includes
an account of the Fossil Mammalia, by Professor Owen; of the
Living Mammalia, by Mr. Waterhouse; of the Birds, by Mr. Gould;
of the Fish, by the Reverend L. Jenyns; and of the Reptiles, by
Mr. Bell. I have appended to the descriptions of each species an
account of its habits and range. These works, which I owe to the
high talents and disinterested zeal of the above distinguished
authors, could not have been undertaken had it not been for the
liberality of the Lords Commissioners of Her Majesty's Treasury,
who, through the representation of the Right Honourable the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, have been pleased to grant a sum of
one thousand pounds towards defraying part of the expenses of
publication.

I have myself published separate volumes on the "Structure and
Distribution of Coral Reefs"; on the "Volcanic Islands visited
during the Voyage of the 'Beagle'"; and on the "Geology of South
America." The sixth volume of the "Geological Transactions"
contains two papers of mine on the Erratic Boulders and Volcanic
Phenomena of South America. Messrs. Waterhouse, Walker, Newman,
and White, have published several able papers on the Insects
which were collected, and I trust that many others will hereafter
follow. The plants from the southern parts of America will be
given by Dr. J. Hooker, in his great work on the Botany of the
Southern Hemisphere. The Flora of the Galapagos Archipelago is
the subject of a separate memoir by him, in the "Linnean
Transactions." The Reverend Professor Henslow has published a
list of the plants collected by me at the Keeling Islands; and
the Reverend J.M. Berkeley has described my cryptogamic plants.

I shall have the pleasure of acknowledging the great assistance
which I have received from several other naturalists in the
course of this and my other works; but I must be here allowed to
return my most sincere thanks to the Reverend Professor Henslow,
who, when I was an undergraduate at Cambridge, was one chief
means of giving me a taste for Natural History,--who, during my
absence, took charge of the collections I sent home, and by his
correspondence directed my endeavours,--and who, since my return,
has constantly rendered me every assistance which the kindest
friend could offer.

DOWN, BROMLEY, KENT,
June 1845.



CONTENTS.


CHAPTER I.

Porto Praya -- Ribeira Grande -- Atmospheric Dust with Infusoria
-- Habits of a Sea-slug and Cuttle-fish -- St. Paul's Rocks,
non-volcanic -- Singular Incrustations -- Insects the first
Colonists of Islands -- Fernando Noronha -- Bahia -- Burnished
Rocks -- Habits of a Diodon -- Pelagic Confervae and Infusoria --
Causes of discoloured Sea.


CHAPTER II.

Rio de Janeiro -- Excursion north of Cape Frio -- Great
Evaporation --  Slavery -- Botofogo Bay -- Terrestrial Planariae
-- Clouds on the Corcovado -- Heavy Rain -- Musical Frogs --
Phosphorescent insects --  Elater, springing powers of -- Blue
Haze -- Noise made by a Butterfly --  Entomology -- Ants -- Wasp
killing a Spider -- Parasitical Spider -- Artifices of an Epeira
-- Gregarious Spider -- Spider with an unsymmetrical web.


CHAPTER III.

Monte Video -- Maldonado -- Excursion to R. Polanco -- Lazo and
Bolas -- Partridges -- Absence of trees -- Deer -- Capybara, or
River Hog -- Tucutuco -- Molothrus, cuckoo-like habits --
Tyrant-flycatcher -- Mocking-bird -- Carrion Hawks -- Tubes
formed by lightning -- House struck.


CHAPTER IV.

Rio Negro -- Estancias attacked by the Indians -- Salt-Lakes --
Flamingoes -- R. Negro to R. Colorado -- Sacred Tree --
Patagonian Hare -- Indian Families -- General Rosas -- Proceed to
Bahia Blanca -- Sand Dunes -- Negro Lieutenant -- Bahia Blanca --
Saline incrustations -- Punta Alta -- Zorillo.

CHAPTER V.

Bahia Blanca -- Geology -- Numerous gigantic extinct Quadrupeds
-- Recent Extinction -- Longevity of Species -- Large Animals do
not require a luxuriant vegetation -- Southern Africa -- Siberian
Fossils -- Two Species of Ostrich -- Habits of Oven-bird --
Armadilloes -- Venomous Snake, Toad, Lizard -- Hybernation of
Animals -- Habits of Sea-Pen -- Indian Wars and Massacres --
Arrowhead -- Antiquarian Relic.


CHAPTER VI.

Set out for Buenos Ayres -- Rio Sauce -- Sierra Ventana -- Third
Posta -- Driving Horses -- Bolas -- Partridges and Foxes --
Features of the country -- Long-legged Plover -- Teru-tero --
Hail-storm -- Natural enclosures in the Sierra Tapalguen -- Flesh
of Puma -- Meat Diet -- Guardia del Monte -- Effects of cattle on
the Vegetation -- Cardoon -- Buenos Ayres -- Corral where cattle
are slaughtered.


CHAPTER VII.

Excursion to St. F -- Thistle Beds -- Habits of the Bizcacha --
Little Owl -- Saline streams -- Level plains -- Mastodon -- St.
F -- Change in landscape -- Geology -- Tooth of extinct Horse --
Relation of the Fossil and recent Quadrupeds of North and South
America -- Effects of a great drought -- Parana -- Habits of the
Jaguar -- Scissor-beak -- Kingfisher, Parrot, and Scissor-tail --
Revolution -- Buenos Ayres -- State of Government.


CHAPTER VIII.

Excursion to Colonia del Sacramiento -- Value of an Estancia --
Cattle, how counted -- Singular breed of Oxen -- Perforated
pebbles -- Shepherd-dogs -- Horses broken-in, Gauchos riding --
Character of Inhabitants -- Rio Plata -- Flocks of Butterflies --
Aeronaut Spiders -- Phosphorescence of the Sea -- Port Desire --
Guanaco -- Port St. Julian -- Geology of Patagonia -- Fossil
gigantic Animal -- Types of Organisation constant -- Change in
the Zoology of America -- Causes of Extinction.


CHAPTER IX.

Santa Cruz -- Expedition up the River -- Indians -- Immense
streams of basaltic lava -- Fragments not transported by the
river -- Excavation 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 -- Penguin -- Geese -- Eggs of Doris -- Compound
animals.


CHAPTER X.

Tierra del Fuego, first arrival -- Good Success Bay -- An account
of the Fuegians on board -- Interview with the savages -- Scenery
of the forests -- Cape Horn -- Wigwam Cove -- Miserable condition
of the savages -- Famines -- Cannibals -- Matricide -- Religious
feelings -- Great Gale -- Beagle Channel -- Ponsonby Sound --
Build wigwams and settle the Fuegians -- Bifurcation of the
Beagle Channel -- Glaciers -- Return to the Ship -- Second visit
in the Ship to the Settlement -- Equality of condition amongst
the natives.


CHAPTER XI.

Strait of Magellan -- Port Famine -- Ascent of Mount Tarn --
Forests -- Edible fungus -- Zoology -- Great Seaweed -- Leave
Tierra del Fuego -- Climate -- Fruit-trees and productions of the
southern coasts -- Height of snow-line on the Cordillera --
Descent of glaciers to the sea -- Icebergs formed -- Transportal
of boulders -- Climate and productions of the Antarctic Islands
-- Preservation of frozen carcasses -- Recapitulation.

CHAPTER XII.

Valparaiso -- Excursion to the foot of the Andes -- Structure of
the land -- Ascend the Bell of Quillota -- Shattered masses of
greenstone -- Immense valleys -- Mines -- State of miners --
Santiago -- Hot-baths of Cauquenes -- Gold-mines --
Grinding-mills -- Perforated stones -- Habits of the Puma -- El
Turco and Tapacolo -- Humming-birds.


CHAPTER XIII.

Chiloe -- General aspect -- Boat excursion -- Native Indians --
Castro -- Tame fox -- Ascend San Pedro -- Chonos Archipelago --
Peninsula of Tres Montes -- Granitic range -- Boat-wrecked
sailors -- Low's Harbour -- Wild potato -- Formation of peat --
Myopotamus, otter and mice -- Cheucau and Barking-bird --
Opetiorhynchus -- Singular character of ornithology -- Petrels.


CHAPTER XIV.

San Carlos, Chiloe -- Osorno in eruption, contemporaneously with
Aconcagua and Coseguina -- Ride to Cucao -- Impenetrable forests
-- Valdivia -- Indians -- Earthquake -- Concepcion -- Great
earthquake -- Rocks fissured -- Appearance of the former towns --
The sea black and boiling -- Direction of the vibrations --
Stones twisted round -- Great Wave -- Permanent Elevation of the
land -- Area of volcanic phenomena -- The connection between the
elevatory and eruptive forces -- Cause of earthquakes -- Slow
elevation of mountain-chains.


CHAPTER XV.

Valparaiso -- Portillo Pass -- Sagacity of mules --
Mountain-torrents -- Mines, how discovered -- Proofs of the
gradual elevation of the Cordillera -- Effect of snow on rocks --
Geological structure of the two main ranges, their distinct
origin and upheaval -- Great subsidence -- Red snow -- Winds --
Pinnacles of snow -- Dry and clear atmosphere -- Electricity --
Pampas -- Zoology of the opposite sides of the Andes -- Locusts
-- Great Bugs -- Mendoza -- Uspallata Pass -- Silicified trees
buried as they grew -- Incas Bridge -- Badness of the passes
exaggerated -- Cumbre -- Casuchas -- Valparaiso.


CHAPTER XVI.

Coast-road to Coquimbo -- Great loads carried by the miners --
Coquimbo -- Earthquake -- Step-formed terraces -- Absence of
recent deposits -- Contemporaneousness of the Tertiary formations
-- Excursion up the valley -- Road to Guasco -- Deserts -- Valley
of Copiap -- Rain and Earthquakes -- Hydrophobia -- The
Despoblado -- Indian ruins -- Probable change of climate --
River-bed arched by an earthquake -- Cold gales of wind -- Noises
from a hill -- Iquique -- Salt alluvium -- Nitrate of soda --
Lima -- Unhealthy country -- Ruins of Callao, overthrown by an
earthquake -- Recent subsidence -- Elevated shells on San
Lorenzo, their decomposition -- Plain with embedded shells and
fragments of pottery -- Antiquity of the Indian Race.


CHAPTER XVII.

Galapagos Archipelago -- The whole group volcanic -- Number of
craters -- Leafless bushes -- Colony at Charles Island -- James
Island -- Salt-lake in crater -- Natural history of the group --
Ornithology, curious finches -- Reptiles -- Great tortoises,
habits of -- Marine lizard, feeds on seaweed -- Terrestrial
lizard, burrowing habits, herbivorous -- Importance of reptiles
in the Archipelago -- Fish, shells, insects -- Botany -- American
type of organisation -- Differences in the species or races on
different islands -- Tameness of the birds -- Fear of man an
acquired instinct.


CHAPTER XVIII.

Pass through the Low Archipelago -- Tahiti -- Aspect --
Vegetation on the mountains -- View of Eimeo -- Excursion into
the interior -- Profound ravines -- Succession of waterfalls --
Number of wild useful plants -- Temperance of the inhabitants --
Their moral state -- Parliament convened -- New Zealand -- Bay of
Islands -- Hippahs -- Excursion to Waimate -- Missionary
establishment -- English weeds now run wild -- Waiomio -- Funeral
of a New Zealand woman -- Sail for Australia.


CHAPTER XIX.

Sydney -- Excursion to Bathurst -- Aspect of the woods -- Party
of natives -- Gradual extinction of the aborigines -- Infection
generated by associated men in health -- Blue Mountains -- View
of the grand gulf-like valleys -- Their origin and formation --
Bathurst, general civility of the lower orders -- State of
Society -- Van Diemen's Land -- Hobart Town -- Aborigines all
banished -- Mount Wellington -- King George's Sound -- Cheerless
aspect of the country -- Bald Head, calcareous casts of branches
of trees -- Party of natives -- Leave Australia.


CHAPTER XX.

Keeling Island -- Singular appearance -- Scanty Flora --
Transport of seeds -- Birds and insects -- Ebbing and flowing
springs -- Fields of dead coral -- Stones transported in the
roots of trees -- Great crab -- Stinging corals -- Coral-eating
fish -- Coral formations -- Lagoon islands or atolls -- Depth at
which reef-building corals can live -- Vast areas interspersed
with low coral islands -- Subsidence of their foundations --
Barrier-reefs -- Fringing-reefs -- Conversion of fringing-reefs
into barrier-reefs, and into atolls -- Evidence of changes in
level -- Breaches in barrier-reefs -- Maldiva atolls, their
peculiar structure -- Dead and submerged reefs -- Areas of
subsidence and elevation -- Distribution of volcanoes --
Subsidence slow and vast in amount.


CHAPTER XXI.

Mauritius, beautiful appearance of -- Great crateriform ring of
mountains -- Hindoos -- St. Helena -- History of the changes in
the vegetation -- Cause of the extinction of land-shells --
Ascension -- Variation in the imported rats -- Volcanic bombs --
Beds of infusoria -- Bahia, Brazil -- Splendour of tropical
scenery -- Pernambuco -- Singular reefs -- Slavery -- Return to
England -- Retrospect on our voyage.


INDEX.


...


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

FRONTISPIECE.  H.M.S. "BEAGLE" IN STRAITS OF MAGELLAN. MT.
SARMIENTO IN THE DISTANCE.

PLATE 1. H.M.S. "BEAGLE" UNDER FULL SAIL, VIEW FROM ASTERN.

PLATE 2. H.M.S. "BEAGLE": MIDDLE SECTION FORE AND AFT, UPPER
DECK, 1832.

PLATE 3.  FERNANDO NORONHA.

PLATE 4.  INCRUSTATION OF SHELLY SAND.

PLATE 5.  DIODON MACULATUS (Distended and Contracted).

PLATE 6.  PELAGIC CONFERVAE.

PLATE 7.  CATAMARAN (BAHIA).

PLATE 8.  BOTOFOGO BAY, RIO DE JANEIRO.

PLATE 9.  VAMPIRE BAT (Desmodus D'Orbigny).

PLATE 10.  VIRGIN FOREST.

PLATE 11.  CABBAGE PALM.

PLATE 12.  MANDIOCA OR CASSAVA.

PLATE 13.  RIO DE JANEIRO.

PLATE 14.  DARWIN'S PAPILIO FERONIA, 1833, NOW CALLED AGERONIA
FERONIA, 1889.

PLATE 15.  HYDROCHAERUS CAPYBARA OR WATER-HOG.

PLATE 16.  RECADO OR SURCINGLE OF GAUCHO.

PLATE 17.  HALT AT A PULPERIA ON THE PAMPAS.

PLATE 18.  EL CARMEN, OR PATAGONES, RIO NEGRO.

PLATE 19.  BRAZILIAN WHIPS, HOBBLES, AND SPURS.

PLATE 20.  BRINGING IN A PRISONER.

PLATE 21.  IRREGULAR TROOPS.

PLATE 22.  SKINNING UJI OR WATER SERPENTS.

PLATE 23.  RHEA DARWINII (Avestruz Petise).

PLATE 24.  LANDING AT BUENOS AYRES.

PLATE 25.  MAT POTS AND BAMBILLIO.

PLATE 26.  GIANT THISTLE OF PAMPAS.

PLATE 27.  CYNARA CARDUNCULUS OR CARDOON.

PLATE 28.  EVENING CAMP, BUENOS AYRES.

PLATE 29.  ROZARIO.

PLATE 30.  PARANA RIVER.

PLATE 31.  TOXODON PLATENSIS. (Found at Saladillo.)

PLATE 32.  FOSSIL TOOTH OF HORSE. (From Bahia Blanca.)

PLATE 33.  MYLODON.

PLATE 34.  HEAD OF SCISSOR-BEAK.

PLATE 35.  RHYNCHOPS NIGRA, OR SCISSOR-BEAK.

PLATE 36.  BUENOS AYRES BULLOCK-WAGGONS.

PLATE 37.  FUEGIANS AND WIGWAMS.

PLATE 38.  OPUNTIA DARWINII.

PLATE 39.  RAISED BEACHES, PATAGONIA.

PLATE 40.  LADIES' COMBS, BANDA ORIENTAL.

PLATE 41.  CONDOR (Sarcorhamphus gryphus).

PLATE 42.  BASALTIC GLEN, SANTA CRUZ.

PLATE 43.  BERKELEY SOUND, FALKLAND ISLANDS.

PLATE 44.  YORK MINSTER (Bearing south 66 degrees east.)

PLATE 45.  CAPE HORN.

PLATE 46.  CAPE HORN (Another view).

PLATE 47.  BAD WEATHER, MAGELLAN STRAITS.

PLATE 48.  FUEGIAN BASKET AND BONE WEAPONS.

PLATE 49.  FALSE HORN, CAPE HORN.

PLATE 50.  WOLLASTON ISLAND, TIERRA DEL FUEGO.

PLATE 51.  PATAGONIANS FROM CAPE GREGORY.

PLATE 52.  PORT FAMINE, MAGELLAN.

PLATE 53.  PATAGONIAN BOLAS.

PLATE 54.  PATAGONIAN SPURS AND PIPE.

PLATE 55.  CYTTARIA DARWINII.

PLATE 56.  EYRE SOUND.

PLATE 57.  GLACIER IN GULF OF PENAS.

PLATE 58.  FLORA OF MAGELLAN.

PLATE 59.  MACROCYSTIS PYRIFERA, OR MAGELLAN KELP.

PLATE 60.  TROCHILUS FORFICATUS.

PLATE 61.  HACIENDA, CONDOR, CACTUS, ETC.

PLATE 62.  CHILIAN MINER.

PLATE 63.  CACTUS (Cereus Peruviana).

PLATE 64.  CORDILLERAS FROM SANTIAGO DE CHILE.

PLATE 65.  CHILIAN SPURS, STIRRUP, ETC.

PLATE 66.  OLD CHURCH, CASTRO, CHILOE.

PLATE 67.  INSIDE CHONOS ARCHIPELAGO.

PLATE 68.  GUNNERA SCABRA, CHILOE.

PLATE 69.  ANTUCO VOLCANO, NEAR TALCAHUANO.

PLATE 70.  PANORAMIC VIEW OF COAST, CHILOE.

PLATE 71.  INSIDE ISLAND OF CHILOE. SAN CARLOS.

PLATE 72.  HIDE BRIDGE, SANTIAGO DE CHILE.

PLATE 73.  CHILENOS.

PLATE 74.  SOUTH AMERICAN BIT.

PLATE 75.  BRIDGE OF THE INCAS, USPALLATA PASS.

PLATE 76.  LIMA AND SAN LORENZO.

PLATE 77.  COQUIMBO, CHILE.

PLATE 78.  HUACAS, PERUVIAN POTTERY.

PLATE 79.  TESTUDO ABINGDONII, GALAPAGOS ISLANDS.

PLATE 80.  GALAPAGOS ARCHIPELAGO.

PLATE 81.  FINCHES FROM GALAPAGOS ARCHIPELAGO.

PLATE 82.  AMBLYRHYNCHUS CRISTATUS.

PLATE 83.  OPUNTIA GALAPAGEIA.

PLATE 84.  AVA OR KAVA (Macropiper methysticum), TAHITI.

PLATE 85.  EIMEO AND BARRIER-REEF.

PLATE 86.  FATAHUA FALL, TAHITI.

PLATE 87.  TAHITIAN.

PLATE 88.  HIPPAH, NEW ZEALAND.

PLATE 89.  SYDNEY, 1835.

PLATE 90.  HOBART TOWN AND MOUNT WELLINGTON.

PLATE 91.  AUSTRALIAN GROUP OF WEAPONS AND THROWING STICKS.

PLATE 92.  INSIDE AN ATOLL, KEELING ISLAND.

PLATE 93.  WHITSUNDAY ISLAND.

PLATE 94.  BARRIER-REEF, BOLABOLA.

PLATE 95.  SECTIONS OF BARRIER-REEFS.

PLATE 96.  SECTION OF CORAL-REEF.

PLATE 97.  SECTION OF CORAL-REEF.

PLATE 98.  BOLABOLA ISLAND.

PLATE 99.  CORALS.

PLATE 100.  BIRGOS LATRO, KEELING ISLAND.

PLATE 101.  ST. LOUIS, MAURITIUS.

PLATE 102.  ST. HELENA.

PLATE 103.  CELLULAR FORMATION OF VOLCANIC BOMB.

PLATE 104.  CICADA HOMOPTERA.

PLATE 105.  HOMEWARD BOUND.

PLATE 106.  ASCENSION. TERNS AND NODDIES.

PLATE 107.  MAP OF SOUTH AMERICA.

PLATE 108.  MAP OF THE WORLD, SHOWING THE TRACK OF H.M.S.
"BEAGLE."

...


(PLATE 2. H.M.S. "BEAGLE": MIDDLE SECTION FORE AND AFT, UPPER
DECK, 1832.)

(PLATE 3.  FERNANDO NORONHA.)



JOURNAL.



CHAPTER I.

Porto Praya.
Ribeira Grande.
Atmospheric Dust with Infusoria.
Habits of a Sea-slug and Cuttle-fish.
St. Paul's Rocks, non-volcanic.
Singular Incrustations.
Insects the first Colonists of Islands.
Fernando Noronha.
Bahia.
Burnished Rocks.
Habits of a Diodon.
Pelagic Confervae and Infusoria.
Causes of discoloured Sea.

ST. JAGO--CAPE DE VERD ISLANDS.

After having been twice driven back by heavy south-western gales,
Her Majesty's ship "Beagle," a ten-gun brig, under the command of
Captain Fitz Roy, R.N., sailed from Devonport on the 27th of
December, 1831. The object of the expedition was to complete the
survey of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego, commenced under Captain
King in 1826 to 1830--to survey the shores of Chile, Peru, and of
some islands in the Pacific--and to carry a chain of
chronometrical measurements round the World. On the 6th of
January we reached Teneriffe, but were prevented landing, by
fears of our bringing the cholera: the next morning we saw the
sun rise behind the rugged outline of the Grand Canary Island,
and suddenly illumine the Peak of Teneriffe, whilst the lower
parts were veiled in fleecy clouds. This was the first of many
delightful days never to be forgotten. On the 16th of January
1832 we anchored at Porto Praya, in St. Jago, the chief island of
the Cape de Verd archipelago.

The neighbourhood of Porto Praya, viewed from the sea, wears a
desolate aspect. The volcanic fires of a past age, and the
scorching heat of a tropical sun, have in most places rendered
the soil unfit for vegetation. The country rises in successive
steps of table-land, interspersed with some truncate conical
hills, and the horizon is bounded by an irregular chain of more
lofty mountains. The scene, as beheld through the hazy atmosphere
of this climate, is one of great interest; if, indeed, a person,
fresh from sea, and who has just walked, for the first time, in a
grove of cocoa-nut trees, can be a judge of anything but his own
happiness. The island would generally be considered as very
uninteresting, but to any one accustomed only to an English
landscape, the novel aspect of an utterly sterile land possesses
a grandeur which more vegetation might spoil. A single green leaf
can scarcely be discovered over wide tracts of the lava plains;
yet flocks of goats, together with a few cows, contrive to exist.
It rains very seldom, but during a short portion of the year
heavy torrents fall, and immediately afterwards a light
vegetation springs out of every crevice. This soon withers; and
upon such naturally formed hay the animals live. It had not now
rained for an entire year. When the island was discovered, the
immediate neighbourhood of Porto Praya was clothed with trees
(1/1. I state this on the authority of Dr. E. Dieffenbach, in his
German translation of the first edition of this Journal.), the
reckless destruction of which has caused here, as at St. Helena,
and at some of the Canary islands, almost entire sterility. The
broad, flat-bottomed valleys, many of which serve during a few
days only in the season as watercourses, are clothed with
thickets of leafless bushes. Few living creatures inhabit these
valleys. The commonest bird is a kingfisher (Dacelo Iagoensis),
which tamely sits on the branches of the castor-oil plant, and
thence darts on grasshoppers and lizards. It is brightly
coloured, but not so beautiful as the European species: in its
flight, manners, and place of habitation, which is generally in
the driest valley, there is also a wide difference.

One day, two of the officers and myself rode to Ribeira Grande, a
village a few miles eastward of Porto Praya. Until we reached the
valley of St. Martin, the country presented its usual dull brown
appearance; but here, a very small rill of water produces a most
refreshing margin of luxuriant vegetation. In the course of an
hour we arrived at Ribeira Grande, and were surprised at the
sight of a large ruined fort and cathedral. This little town,
before its harbour was filled up, was the principal place in the
island: it now presents a melancholy, but very picturesque
appearance. Having procured a black Padre for a guide, and a
Spaniard who had served in the Peninsular war as an interpreter,
we visited a collection of buildings, of which an ancient church
formed the principal part. It is here the governors and
captain-generals of the islands have been buried. Some of the
tombstones recorded dates of the sixteenth century. (1/2. The
Cape de Verd Islands were discovered in 1449. There was a
tombstone of a bishop with the date of 1571; and a crest of a
hand and dagger, dated 1497.) The heraldic ornaments were the
only things in this retired place that reminded us of Europe. The
church or chapel formed one side of a quadrangle, in the middle
of which a large clump of bananas were growing. On another side
was a hospital, containing about a dozen miserable-looking
inmates.

We returned to the Vnda to eat our dinners. A considerable
number of men, women, and children, all as black as jet,
collected to watch us. Our companions were extremely merry; and
everything we said or did was followed by their hearty laughter.
Before leaving the town we visited the cathedral. It does not
appear so rich as the smaller church, but boasts of a little
organ, which sent forth singularly inharmonious cries. We
presented the black priest with a few shillings, and the
Spaniard, patting him on the head, said, with much candour, he
thought his colour made no great difference. We then returned, as
fast as the ponies would go, to Porto Praya.

Another day we rode to the village of St. Domingo, situated near
the centre of the island. On a small plain which we crossed, a
few stunted acacias were growing; their tops had been bent by the
steady trade-wind, in a singular manner--some of them even at
right angles to their trunks. The direction of the branches was
exactly north-east by north, and south-west by south, and these
natural vanes must indicate the prevailing direction of the force
of the trade-wind. The travelling had made so little impression
on the barren soil, that we here missed our track, and took that
to Fuentes. This we did not find out till we arrived there; and
we were afterwards glad of our mistake. Fuentes is a pretty
village, with a small stream; and everything appeared to prosper
well, excepting, indeed, that which ought to do so most--its
inhabitants. The black children, completely naked, and looking
very wretched, were carrying bundles of firewood half as big as
their own bodies.

Near Fuentes we saw a large flock of guinea-fowl--probably fifty
or sixty in number. They were extremely wary, and could not be
approached. They avoided us, like partridges on a rainy day in
September, running with their heads cocked up; and if pursued,
they readily took to the wing.

The scenery of St. Domingo possesses a beauty totally unexpected,
from the prevalent gloomy character of the rest of the island.
The village is situated at the bottom of a valley, bounded by
lofty and jagged walls of stratified lava. The black rocks afford
a most striking contrast with the bright green vegetation, which
follows the banks of a little stream of clear water. It happened
to be a grand feast-day, and the village was full of people. On
our return we overtook a party of about twenty young black girls,
dressed in excellent taste; their black skins and snow-white
linen being set off by coloured turbans and large shawls. As soon
as we approached near, they suddenly all turned round, and
covering the path with their shawls, sung with great energy a
wild song, beating time with their hands upon their legs. We
threw them some vintms, which were received with screams of
laughter, and we left them redoubling the noise of their song.

One morning the view was singularly clear; the distant mountains
being projected with the sharpest outline, on a heavy bank of
dark blue clouds. Judging from the appearance, and from similar
cases in England, I supposed that the air was saturated with
moisture. The fact, however, turned out quite the contrary. The
hygrometer gave a difference of 29.6 degrees, between the
temperature of the air, and the point at which dew was
precipitated. This difference was nearly double that which I had
observed on the previous mornings. This unusual degree of
atmospheric dryness was accompanied by continual flashes of
lightning. Is it not an uncommon case, thus to find a remarkable
degree of aerial transparency with such a state of weather?

Generally the atmosphere is hazy; and this is caused by the
falling of impalpably fine dust, which was found to have slightly
injured the astronomical instruments. The morning before we
anchored at Porto Praya, I collected a little packet of this
brown-coloured fine dust, which appeared to have been filtered
from the wind by the gauze of the vane at the masthead. Mr. Lyell
has also given me four packets of dust which fell on a vessel a
few hundred miles northward of these islands. Professor Ehrenberg
finds that this dust consists in great part of infusoria with
siliceous shields, and of the siliceous tissue of plants. (1/3. I
must take this opportunity of acknowledging the great kindness
with which this illustrious naturalist has examined many of my
specimens. I have sent (June 1845) a full account of the falling
of this dust to the Geological Society.) In five little packets
which I sent him, he has ascertained no less than sixty-seven
different organic forms! The infusoria, with the exception of two
marine species, are all inhabitants of fresh-water. I have found
no less than fifteen different accounts of dust having fallen on
vessels when far out in the Atlantic. From the direction of the
wind whenever it has fallen, and from its having always fallen
during those months when the harmattan is known to raise clouds
of dust high into the atmosphere, we may feel sure that it all
comes from Africa. It is, however, a very singular fact, that,
although Professor Ehrenberg knows many species of infusoria
peculiar to Africa, he finds none of these in the dust which I
sent him. On the other hand, he finds in it two species which
hitherto he knows as living only in South America. The dust falls
in such quantities as to dirty everything on board, and to hurt
people's eyes; vessels even have run on shore owing to the
obscurity of the atmosphere. It has often fallen on ships when
several hundred, and even more than a thousand miles from the
coast of Africa, and at points sixteen hundred miles distant in a
north and south direction. In some dust which was collected on a
vessel three hundred miles from the land, I was much surprised to
find particles of stone above the thousandth of an inch square,
mixed with finer matter. After this fact one need not be
surprised at the diffusion of the far lighter and smaller
sporules of cryptogamic plants.

The geology of this island is the most interesting part of its
natural history. On entering the harbour, a perfectly horizontal
white band in the face of the sea cliff, may be seen running for
some miles along the coast, and at the height of about forty-five
feet above the water. Upon examination, this white stratum is
found to consist of calcareous matter, with numerous shells
embedded, most or all of which now exist on the neighbouring
coast. It rests on ancient volcanic rocks, and has been covered
by a stream of basalt, which must have entered the sea when the
white shelly bed was lying at the bottom. It is interesting to
trace the changes, produced by the heat of the overlying lava, on
the friable mass, which in parts has been converted into a
crystalline limestone, and in other parts into a compact spotted
stone. Where the lime has been caught up by the scoriaceous
fragments of the lower surface of the stream, it is converted
into groups of beautifully radiated fibres resembling arragonite.
The beds of lava rise in successive gently-sloping plains,
towards the interior, whence the deluges of melted stone have
originally proceeded. Within historical times no signs of
volcanic activity have, I believe, been manifested in any part of
St. Jago. Even the form of a crater can but rarely be discovered
on the summits of the many red cindery hills; yet the more recent
streams can be distinguished on the coast, forming lines of
cliffs of less height, but stretching out in advance of those
belonging to an older series: the height of the cliffs thus
affording a rude measure of the age of the streams.

During our stay, I observed the habits of some marine animals. A
large Aplysia is very common. This sea-slug is about five inches
long; and is of a dirty yellowish colour, veined with purple. On
each side of the lower surface, or foot, there is a broad
membrane, which appears sometimes to act as a ventilator, in
causing a current of water to flow over the dorsal branchiae or
lungs. It feeds on the delicate seaweeds which grow among the
stones in muddy and shallow water; and I found in its stomach
several small pebbles, as in the gizzard of a bird. This slug,
when disturbed, emits a very fine purplish-red fluid, which
stains the water for the space of a foot around. Besides this
means of defence, an acrid secretion, which is spread over its
body, causes a sharp, stinging sensation, similar to that
produced by the Physalia, or Portuguese man-of-war.

I was much interested, on several occasions, by watching the
habits of an Octopus, or cuttle-fish. Although common in the
pools of water left by the retiring tide, these animals were not
easily caught. By means of their long arms and suckers, they
could drag their bodies into very narrow crevices; and when thus
fixed, it required great force to remove them. At other times
they darted tail first, with the rapidity of an arrow, from one
side of the pool to the other, at the same instant discolouring
the water with a dark chestnut-brown ink. These animals also
escape detection by a very extraordinary, chameleon-like power of
changing their colour. They appear to vary their tints according
to the nature of the ground over which they pass: when in deep
water, their general shade was brownish purple, but when placed
on the land, or in shallow water, this dark tint changed into one
of a yellowish green. The colour, examined more carefully, was a
French grey, with numerous minute spots of bright yellow: the
former of these varied in intensity; the latter entirely
disappeared and appeared again by turns. These changes were
effected in such a manner that clouds, varying in tint between a
hyacinth red and a chestnut-brown, were continually passing over
the body. (1/4. So named according to Patrick Symes's
nomenclature.) Any part, being subjected to a slight shock of
galvanism, became almost black: a similar effect, but in a less
degree, was produced by scratching the skin with a needle. These
clouds, or blushes as they may be called, are said to be produced
by the alternate expansion and contraction of minute vesicles
containing variously coloured fluids. (1/5. See "Encyclopedia of
Anatomy and Physiology" article "Cephalopoda.")

This cuttle-fish displayed its chameleon-like power both during
the act of swimming and whilst remaining stationary at the
bottom. I was much amused by the various arts to escape detection
used by one individual, which seemed fully aware that I was
watching it. Remaining for a time motionless, it would then
stealthily advance an inch or two, like a cat after a mouse;
sometimes changing its colour: it thus proceeded, till having
gained a deeper part, it darted away, leaving a dusky train of
ink to hide the hole into which it had crawled.

While looking for marine animals, with my head about two feet
above the rocky shore, I was more than once saluted by a jet of
water, accompanied by a slight grating noise. At first I could
not think what it was, but afterwards I found out that it was
this cuttle-fish, which, though concealed in a hole, thus often
led me to its discovery. That it possesses the power of ejecting
water there is no doubt, and it appeared to me that it could
certainly take good aim by directing the tube or siphon on the
under side of its body. From the difficulty which these animals
have in carrying their heads, they cannot crawl with ease when
placed on the ground. I observed that one which I kept in the
cabin was slightly phosphorescent in the dark.

ST. PAUL'S ROCKS.

In crossing the Atlantic we hove-to, during the morning of
February 16th, 1832, close to the island of St. Paul's. This
cluster of rocks is situated in 0 degrees 58' north latitude, and
29 degrees 15' west longitude. It is 540 miles distant from the
coast of America, and 350 from the island of Fernando Noronha.
The highest point is only fifty feet above the level of the sea,
and the entire circumference is under three-quarters of a mile.
This small point rises abruptly out of the depths of the ocean.
Its mineralogical constitution is not simple; in some parts the
rock is of a cherty, in others of a feldspathic nature, including
thin veins of serpentine. It is a remarkable fact that all the
many small islands, lying far from any continent, in the Pacific,
Indian, and Atlantic Oceans, with the exception of the Seychelles
and this little point of rock, are, I believe, composed either of
coral or of erupted matter. The volcanic nature of these oceanic
islands is evidently an extension of that law, and the effect of
those same causes, whether chemical or mechanical, from which it
results that a vast majority of the volcanoes now in action stand
either near sea-coasts or as islands in the midst of the sea.

(PLATE 4.  INCRUSTATION OF SHELLY SAND.)

The rocks of St. Paul appear from a distance of a brilliantly
white colour. This is partly owing to the dung of a vast
multitude of seafowl, and partly to a coating of a hard glossy
substance with a pearly lustre, which is intimately united to the
surface of the rocks. This, when examined with a lens, is found
to consist of numerous exceedingly thin layers, its total
thickness being about the tenth of an inch. It contains much
animal matter, and its origin, no doubt, is due to the action of
the rain or spray on the birds' dung. Below some small masses of
guano at Ascension, and on the Abrolhos Islets, I found certain
stalactitic branching bodies, formed apparently in the same
manner as the thin white coating on these rocks. The branching
bodies so closely resembled in general appearance certain
nulliporae (a family of hard calcareous sea-plants), that in
lately looking hastily over my collection I did not perceive the
difference. The globular extremities of the branches are of a
pearly texture, like the enamel of teeth, but so hard as just to
scratch plate-glass. I may here mention, that on a part of the
coast of Ascension, where there is a vast accumulation of shelly
sand, an incrustation is deposited on the tidal rocks, by the
water of the sea, resembling, as represented in Plate 4, certain
cryptogamic plants (Marchantiae) often seen on damp walls. The
surface of the fronds is beautifully glossy; and those parts
formed where fully exposed to the light, are of a jet black
colour, but those shaded under ledges are only grey. I have shown
specimens of this incrustation to several geologists, and they
all thought that they were of volcanic or igneous origin! In its
hardness and translucency--in its polish, equal to that of the
finest oliva-shell--in the bad smell given out, and loss of
colour under the blowpipe--it shows a close similarity with
living sea-shells. Moreover in sea-shells, it is known that the
parts habitually covered and shaded by the mantle of the animal,
are of a paler colour than those fully exposed to the light, just
as is the case with this incrustation. When we remember that
lime, either as a phosphate or carbonate, enters into the
composition of the hard parts, such as bones and shells, of all
living animals, it is an interesting physiological fact to find
substances harder than the enamel of teeth, and coloured surfaces
as well polished as those of a fresh shell, re-formed through
inorganic means from dead organic matter--mocking, also, in
shape, some of the lower vegetable productions. (1/6. Mr. Horner
and Sir David Brewster have described ("Philosophical
Transactions" 1836 page 65) a singular "artificial substance
resembling shell." It is deposited in fine, transparent, highly
polished, brown-coloured laminae, possessing peculiar optical
properties, on the inside of a vessel, in which cloth, first
prepared with glue and then with lime, is made to revolve rapidly
in water. It is much softer, more transparent, and contains more
animal matter, than the natural incrustation at Ascension; but we
here again see the strong tendency which carbonate of lime and
animal matter evince to form a solid substance allied to shell.)

We found on St. Paul's only two kinds of birds--the booby and the
noddy. The former is a species of gannet, and the latter a tern.
Both are of a tame and stupid disposition, and are so
unaccustomed to visitors, that I could have killed any number of
them with my geological hammer. The booby lays her eggs on the
bare rock; but the tern makes a very simple nest with seaweed. By
the side of many of these nests a small flying-fish was placed;
which I suppose, had been brought by the male bird for its
partner. It was amusing to watch how quickly a large and active
crab (Graspus), which inhabits the crevices of the rock, stole
the fish from the side of the nest, as soon as we had disturbed
the parent birds. Sir W. Symonds, one of the few persons who have
landed here, informs me that he saw the crabs dragging even the
young birds out of their nests, and devouring them. Not a single
plant, not even a lichen, grows on this islet; yet it is
inhabited by several insects and spiders. The following list
completes, I believe, the terrestrial fauna: a fly (Olfersia)
living on the booby, and a tick which must have come here as a
parasite on the birds; a small brown moth, belonging to a genus
that feeds on feathers; a beetle (Quedius) and a woodlouse from
beneath the dung; and lastly, numerous spiders, which I suppose
prey on these small attendants and scavengers of the waterfowl.
The often-repeated description of the stately palm and other
noble tropical plants, then birds, and lastly man, taking
possession of the coral islets as soon as formed, in the Pacific,
is probably not quite correct; I fear it destroys the poetry of
this story, that feather and dirt-feeding and parasitic insects
and spiders should be the first inhabitants of newly formed
oceanic land.

The smallest rock in the tropical seas, by giving a foundation
for the growth of innumerable kinds of seaweed and compound
animals, supports likewise a large number of fish. The sharks and
the seamen in the boats maintained a constant struggle which
should secure the greater share of the prey caught by the
fishing-lines. I have heard that a rock near the Bermudas, lying
many miles out at sea, and at a considerable depth, was first
discovered by the circumstance of fish having been observed in
the neighbourhood.

FERNANDO NORONHA, FEBRUARY 20, 1832.

As far as I was enabled to observe, during the few hours we
stayed at this place, the constitution of the island is volcanic,
but probably not of a recent date. The most remarkable feature is
a conical hill, about one thousand feet high, the upper part of
which is exceedingly steep, and on one side overhangs its base.
The rock is phonolite, and is divided into irregular columns. On
viewing one of these isolated masses, at first one is inclined to
believe that it has been suddenly pushed up in a semi-fluid
state. At St. Helena, however, I ascertained that some pinnacles,
of a nearly similar figure and constitution, had been formed by
the injection of melted rock into yielding strata, which thus had
formed the moulds for these gigantic obelisks. The whole island
is covered with wood; but from the dryness of the climate there
is no appearance of luxuriance. Half-way up the mountain some
great masses of the columnar rock, shaded by laurel-like trees,
and ornamented by others covered with fine pink flowers but
without a single leaf, gave a pleasing effect to the nearer parts
of the scenery.

BAHIA, OR SAN SALVADOR. BRAZIL, FEBRUARY 29, 1832.

The day has past delightfully. Delight itself, however, is a weak
term to express the feelings of a naturalist who, for the first
time, has wandered by himself in a Brazilian forest. The elegance
of the grasses, the novelty of the parasitical plants, the beauty
of the flowers, the glossy green of the foliage, but above all
the general luxuriance of the vegetation, filled me with
admiration. A most paradoxical mixture of sound and silence
pervades the shady parts of the wood. The noise from the insects
is so loud, that it may be heard even in a vessel anchored
several hundred yards from the shore; yet within the recesses of
the forest a universal silence appears to reign. To a person fond
of natural history, such a day as this brings with it a deeper
pleasure than he can ever hope to experience again. After
wandering about for some hours, I returned to the landing-place;
but, before reaching it, I was overtaken by a tropical storm. I
tried to find shelter under a tree, which was so thick that it
would never have been penetrated by common English rain; but
here, in a couple of minutes, a little torrent flowed down the
trunk. It is to this violence of the rain that we must attribute
the verdure at the bottom of the thickest woods: if the showers
were like those of a colder clime, the greater part would be
absorbed or evaporated before it reached the ground. I will not
at present attempt to describe the gaudy scenery of this noble
bay, because, in our homeward voyage, we called here a second
time, and I shall then have occasion to remark on it.

Along the whole coast of Brazil, for a length of at least 2000
miles, and certainly for a considerable space inland, wherever
solid rock occurs, it belongs to a granitic formation. The
circumstance of this enormous area being constituted of materials
which most geologists believe to have been crystallised when
heated under pressure, gives rise to many curious reflections.
Was this effect produced beneath the depths of a profound ocean?
or did a covering of strata formerly extend over it, which has
since been removed? Can we believe that any power, acting for a
time short of infinity, could have denuded the granite over so
many thousand square leagues?

On a point not far from the city, where a rivulet entered the
sea, I observed a fact connected with a subject discussed by
Humboldt. (1/7. "Personal Narrative" volume 5 part 1 page 18.) At
the cataracts of the great rivers Orinoco, Nile, and Congo, the
syenitic rocks are coated by a black substance, appearing as if
they had been polished with plumbago. The layer is of extreme
thinness; and on analysis by Berzelius it was found to consist of
the oxides of manganese and iron. In the Orinoco it occurs on the
rocks periodically washed by the floods, and in those parts alone
where the stream is rapid; or, as the Indians say, "the rocks are
black where the waters are white." Here the coating is of a rich
brown instead of a black colour, and seems to be composed of
ferruginous matter alone. Hand specimens fail to give a just idea
of these brown burnished stones which glitter in the sun's rays.
They occur only within the limits of the tidal waves; and as the
rivulet slowly trickles down, the surf must supply the polishing
power of the cataracts in the great rivers. In like manner, the
rise and fall of the tide probably answer to the periodical
inundations; and thus the same effects are produced under
apparently different but really similar circumstances. The
origin, however, of these coatings of metallic oxides, which seem
as if cemented to the rocks, is not understood; and no reason, I
believe, can be assigned for their thickness remaining the same.

(PLATE 5.  DIODON MACULATUS (DISTENDED AND CONTRACTED).)

One day I was amused by watching the habits of the Diodon
antennatus, which was caught swimming near the shore. This fish,
with its flabby skin, is well known to possess the singular power
of distending itself into a nearly spherical form. After having
been taken out of water for a short time, and then again immersed
in it, a considerable quantity both of water and air is absorbed
by the mouth, and perhaps likewise by the branchial orifices.
This process is effected by two methods: the air is swallowed,
and is then forced into the cavity of the body, its return being
prevented by a muscular contraction which is externally visible:
but the water enters in a gentle stream through the mouth, which
is kept wide open and motionless; this latter action must,
therefore, depend on suction. The skin about the abdomen is much
looser than that on the back; hence, during the inflation, the
lower surface becomes far more distended than the upper; and the
fish, in consequence, floats with its back downwards. Cuvier
doubts whether the Diodon in this position is able to swim; but
not only can it thus move forward in a straight line, but it can
turn round to either side. This latter movement is effected
solely by the aid of the pectoral fins; the tail being collapsed
and not used. From the body being buoyed up with so much air, the
branchial openings are out of water, but a stream drawn in by the
mouth constantly flows through them.

The fish, having remained in this distended state for a short
time, generally expelled the air and water with considerable
force from the branchial apertures and mouth. It could emit, at
will, a certain portion of the water, and it appears, therefore
probable that this fluid is taken in partly for the sake of
regulating its specific gravity. This Diodon possessed several
means of defence. It could give a severe bite, and could eject
water from its mouth to some distance, at the same time making a
curious noise by the movement of its jaws. By the inflation of
its body, the papillae, with which the skin is covered, become
erect and pointed. But the most curious circumstance is, that it
secretes from the skin of its belly, when handled, a most
beautiful carmine-red fibrous matter, which stains ivory and
paper in so permanent a manner, that the tint is retained with
all its brightness to the present day: I am quite ignorant of the
nature and use of this secretion. I have heard from Dr. Allan of
Forres, that he has frequently found a Diodon, floating alive and
distended, in the stomach of the shark; and that on several
occasions he has known it eat its way, not only through the coats
of the stomach, but through the sides of the monster, which has
thus been killed. Who would ever have imagined that a little soft
fish could have destroyed the great and savage shark?

MARCH 18, 1832.

(PLATE 6.  PELAGIC CONFERVAE.)

We sailed from Bahia. A few days afterwards, when not far distant
from the Abrolhos Islets, my attention was called to a
reddish-brown appearance in the sea. The whole surface of the
water, as it appeared under a weak lens, seemed as if covered by
chopped bits of hay, with their ends jagged. These are minute
cylindrical confervae, in bundles or rafts of from twenty to
sixty in each. Mr. Berkeley informs me that they are the same
species (Trichodesmium erythraeum) with that found over large
spaces in the Red Sea, and whence its name of Red Sea is derived.
(1/8. M. Montagne in "Comptes Rendus" etc. Juillet 1844; and
"Annales des Sciences Naturelles" December 1844.) Their numbers
must be infinite: the ship passed through several bands of them,
one of which was about ten yards wide, and, judging from the
mud-like colour of the water, at least two and a half miles long.
In almost every long voyage some account is given of these
confervae. They appear especially common in the sea near
Australia; and off Cape Leeuwin I found an allied, but smaller
and apparently different species. Captain Cook, in his third
voyage, remarks that the sailors gave to this appearance the name
of sea-sawdust.

Near Keeling Atoll, in the Indian Ocean, I observed many little
masses of confervae a few inches square, consisting of long
cylindrical threads of excessive thinness, so as to be barely
visible to the naked eye, mingled with other rather larger
bodies, finely conical at both ends. Two of these are shown in
Plate 6 united together. They vary in length from .04 to .06, and
even to .08 of an inch in length; and in diameter from .006 to
.008 of an inch. Near one extremity of the cylindrical part, a
green septum, formed of granular matter, and thickest in the
middle, may generally be seen. This, I believe, is the bottom of
a most delicate, colourless sac, composed of a pulpy substance,
which lines the exterior case, but does not extend within the
extreme conical points. In some specimens, small but perfect
spheres of brownish granular matter supplied the places of the
septa; and I observed the curious process by which they were
produced. The pulpy matter of the internal coating suddenly
grouped itself into lines, some of which assumed a form radiating
from a common centre; it then continued, with an irregular and
rapid movement, to contract itself, so that in the course of a
second the whole was united into a perfect little sphere, which
occupied the position of the septum at one end of the now quite
hollow case. The formation of the granular sphere was hastened by
any accidental injury. I may add, that frequently a pair of these
bodies were attached to each other, as represented above, cone
beside cone, at that end where the septum occurs.

I will here add a few other observations connected with the
discoloration of the sea from organic causes. On the coast of
Chile, a few leagues north of Concepcion, the "Beagle" one day
passed through great bands of muddy water, exactly like that of a
swollen river; and again, a degree south of Valparaiso, when
fifty miles from the land, the same appearance was still more
extensive. Some of the water placed in a glass was of a pale
reddish tint; and, examined under a microscope, was seen to swarm
with minute animalcula darting about, and often exploding. Their
shape is oval, and contracted in the middle by a ring of
vibrating curved ciliae. It was, however, very difficult to
examine them with care, for almost the instant motion ceased,
even while crossing the field of vision, their bodies burst.
Sometimes both ends burst at once, sometimes only one, and a
quantity of coarse, brownish, granular matter was ejected. The
animal an instant before bursting expanded to half again its
natural size; and the explosion took place about fifteen seconds
after the rapid progressive motion had ceased: in a few cases it
was preceded for a short interval by a rotatory movement on the
longer axis. About two minutes after any number were isolated in
a drop of water, they thus perished. The animals move with the
narrow apex forwards, by the aid of their vibratory ciliae, and
generally by rapid starts. They are exceedingly minute, and quite
invisible to the naked eye, only covering a space equal to the
square of the thousandth of an inch. Their numbers were infinite;
for the smallest drop of water which I could remove contained
very many. In one day we passed through two spaces of water thus
stained, one of which alone must have extended over several
square miles. What incalculable numbers of these microscopical
animals! The colour of the water, as seen at some distance, was
like that of a river which has flowed through a red clay
district; but under the shade of the vessel's side it was quite
as dark as chocolate. The line where the red and blue water
joined was distinctly defined. The weather for some days
previously had been calm, and the ocean abounded, to an unusual
degree, with living creatures. (1/9. M. Lesson "Voyage de la
Coquille" tome 1 page 255, mentions red water off Lima,
apparently produced by the same cause. Peron, the distinguished
naturalist, in the "Voyage aux Terres Australes," gives no less
than twelve references to voyagers who have alluded to the
discoloured waters of the sea (volume 2 page 239). To the
references given by Peron may be added, Humboldt's "Personal
Narrative" volume 6 page 804; Flinder's "Voyage" volume 1 page
92; Labillardire, volume 1 page 287; Ulloa's "Voyage"; "Voyage
of the Astrolabe and of the Coquille"; Captain King's "Survey of
Australia" etc.)

In the sea around Tierra del Fuego, and at no great distance from
the land, I have seen narrow lines of water of a bright red
colour, from the number of crustacea, which somewhat resemble in
form large prawns. The sealers call them whale-food. Whether
whales feed on them I do not know; but terns, cormorants, and
immense herds of great unwieldy seals derive, on some parts of
the coast, their chief sustenance from these swimming crabs.
Seamen invariably attribute the discoloration of the water to
spawn; but I found this to be the case only on one occasion. At
the distance of several leagues from the Archipelago of the
Galapagos, the ship sailed through three strips of a dark
yellowish, or mud-like water; these strips were some miles long,
but only a few yards wide, and they were separated from the
surrounding water by a sinuous yet distinct margin. The colour
was caused by little gelatinous balls, about the fifth of an inch
in diameter, in which numerous minute spherical ovules were
embedded: they were of two distinct kinds, one being of a reddish
colour and of a different shape from the other. I cannot form a
conjecture as to what two kinds of animals these belonged.
Captain Colnett remarks that this appearance is very common among
the Galapagos Islands, and that the direction of the bands
indicates that of the currents; in the described case, however,
the line was caused by the wind. The only other appearance which
I have to notice, is a thin oily coat on the water which displays
iridescent colours. I saw a considerable tract of the ocean thus
covered on the coast of Brazil; the seamen attributed it to the
putrefying carcass of some whale, which probably was floating at
no great distance. I do not here mention the minute gelatinous
particles, hereafter to be referred to, which are frequently
dispersed throughout the water, for they are not sufficiently
abundant to create any change of colour.

There are two circumstances in the above accounts which appear
remarkable: first, how do the various bodies which form the bands
with defined edges keep together? In the case of the prawn-like
crabs, their movements were as coinstantaneous as in a regiment
of soldiers; but this cannot happen from anything like voluntary
action with the ovules, or the confervae, nor is it probable
among the infusoria. Secondly, what causes the length and
narrowness of the bands? The appearance so much resembles that
which may be seen in every torrent, where the stream uncoils into
long streaks the froth collected in the eddies, that I must
attribute the effect to a similar action either of the currents
of the air or sea. Under this supposition we must believe that
the various organised bodies are produced in certain favourable
places, and are thence removed by the set of either wind or
water. I confess, however, there is a very great difficulty in
imagining any one spot to be the birthplace of the millions of
millions of animalcula and confervae: for whence come the germs
at such points?--the parent bodies having been distributed by the
winds and waves over the immense ocean. But on no other
hypothesis can I understand their linear grouping. I may add that
Scoresby remarks that green water abounding with pelagic animals
is invariably found in a certain part of the Arctic Sea.

(PLATE 7.  CATAMARAN (BAHIA).)


CHAPTER II.

(PLATE 8.  BOTOFOGO BAY, RIO DE JANEIRO.)

Rio de Janeiro.
Excursion north of Cape Frio.
Great Evaporation.
Slavery.
Botofogo Bay.
Terrestrial Planariae.
Clouds on the Corcovado.
Heavy Rain.
Musical Frogs.
Phosphorescent Insects.
Elater, springing powers of.
Blue Haze.
Noise made by a Butterfly.
Entomology.
Ants.
Wasp killing a Spider.
Parasitical Spider.
Artifices of an Epeira.
Gregarious Spider.
Spider with an unsymmetrical Web.

RIO DE JANEIRO.

APRIL 4 TO JULY 5, 1832.

A few days after our arrival I became acquainted with an
Englishman who was going to visit his estate, situated rather
more than a hundred miles from the capital, to the northward of
Cape Frio. I gladly accepted his kind offer of allowing me to
accompany him.

APRIL 8, 1832.

Our party amounted to seven. The first stage was very
interesting. The day was powerfully hot, and as we passed through
the woods, everything was motionless, excepting the large and
brilliant butterflies, which lazily fluttered about. The view
seen when crossing the hills behind Praia Grande was most
beautiful; the colours were intense, and the prevailing tint a
dark blue; the sky and the calm waters of the bay vied with each
other in splendour. After passing through some cultivated
country, we entered a forest which in the grandeur of all its
parts could not be exceeded. We arrived by midday at Ithacaia;
this small village is situated on a plain, and round the central
house are the huts of the negroes. These, from their regular form
and position, reminded me of the drawings of the Hottentot
habitations in Southern Africa. As the moon rose early, we
determined to start the same evening for our sleeping-place at
the Lagoa Marica. As it was growing dark we passed under one of
the massive, bare, and steep hills of granite which are so common
in this country. This spot is notorious from having been, for a
long time, the residence of some runaway slaves, who, by
cultivating a little ground near the top, contrived to eke out a
subsistence. At length they were discovered, and a party of
soldiers being sent, the whole were seized with the exception of
one old woman, who, sooner than again be led into slavery, dashed
herself to pieces from the summit of the mountain. In a Roman
matron this would have been called the noble love of freedom: in
a poor negress it is mere brutal obstinacy. We continued riding
for some hours. For the few last miles the road was intricate,
and it passed through a desert waste of marshes and lagoons. The
scene by the dimmed light of the moon was most desolate. A few
fireflies flitted by us; and the solitary snipe, as it rose,
uttered its plaintive cry. The distant and sullen roar of the sea
scarcely broke the stillness of the night.

APRIL 9, 1832.

We left our miserable sleeping-place before sunrise. The road
passed through a narrow sandy plain, lying between the sea and
the interior salt lagoons. The number of beautiful fishing birds,
such as egrets and cranes, and the succulent plants assuming most
fantastical forms, gave to the scene an interest which it would
not otherwise have possessed. The few stunted trees were loaded
with parasitical plants, among which the beauty and delicious
fragrance of some of the orchideae were most to be admired. As
the sun rose, the day became extremely hot, and the reflection of
the light and heat from the white sand was very distressing. We
dined at Mandetiba; the thermometer in the shade being 84
degrees. The beautiful view of the distant wooded hills,
reflected in the perfectly calm water of an extensive lagoon,
quite refreshed us. As the vnda here was a very good one, and I
have the pleasant, but rare remembrance, of an excellent dinner,
I will be grateful and presently describe it, as the type of its
class. (2/1. Vnda, the Portuguese name for an inn.) These houses
are often large, and are built of thick upright posts, with
boughs interwoven, and afterwards plastered. They seldom have
floors, and never glazed windows; but are generally pretty well
roofed. Universally the front part is open, forming a kind of
verandah, in which tables and benches are placed. The bedrooms
join on each side, and here the passenger may sleep as
comfortably as he can, on a wooden platform covered by a thin
straw mat. The vnda stands in a courtyard, where the horses are
fed. On first arriving, it was our custom to unsaddle the horses
and give them their Indian corn; then, with a low bow, to ask the
senhr to do us the favour to give us something to eat. "Anything
you choose, sir," was his usual answer. For the few first times,
vainly I thanked providence for having guided us to so good a
man. The conversation proceeding, the case universally became
deplorable. "Any fish can you do us the favour of giving ?"--"Oh
no, sir."--"Any soup?"--"No, sir."--"Any bread?"--"Oh no,
sir."--"Any dried meat?"--"Oh no, sir." If we were lucky, by
waiting a couple of hours, we obtained fowls, rice, and farinha.
It not unfrequently happened that we were obliged to kill, with
stones, the poultry for our own supper. When, thoroughly
exhausted by fatigue and hunger, we timorously hinted that we
should be glad of our meal, the pompous, and (though true) most
unsatisfactory answer was, "It will be ready when it is ready."
If we had dared to remonstrate any further, we should have been
told to proceed on our journey, as being too impertinent. The
hosts are most ungracious and disagreeable in their manners;
their houses and their persons are often filthily dirty; the want
of the accommodation of forks, knives, and spoons is common; and
I am sure no cottage or hovel in England could be found in a
state so utterly destitute of every comfort. At Campos Novos,
however, we fared sumptuously; having rice and fowls, biscuit,
wine, and spirits, for dinner; coffee in the evening, and fish
with coffee for breakfast. All this, with good food for the
horses, only cost 2 shillings 6 pence per head. Yet the host of
this vnda, being asked if he knew anything of a whip which one
of the party had lost, gruffly answered, "How should I know? why
did you not take care of it?--I suppose the dogs have eaten it."

Leaving Mandetiba, we continued to pass through an intricate
wilderness of lakes; in some of which were fresh, in others salt
water shells. Of the former kind, I found a Limnaea in great
numbers in a lake, into which the inhabitants assured me that the
sea enters once a year, and sometimes oftener, and makes the
water quite salt. I have no doubt many interesting facts in
relation to marine and fresh-water animals might be observed in
this chain of lagoons which skirt the coast of Brazil. M. Gay has
stated that he found in the neighbourhood of Rio shells of the
marine genera solen and mytilus, and fresh-water ampullariae,
living together in brackish water. (2/2. "Annales des Sciences
Naturelles" for 1833.) I also frequently observed in the lagoon
near the Botanic Garden, where the water is only a little less
salt than in the sea, a species of hydrophilus, very similar to a
water-beetle common in the ditches of England: in the same lake
the only shell belonged to a genus generally found in estuaries.

(PLATE 9.  VAMPIRE BAT (Desmodus D'Orbigny). Caught on back of
Darwin's horse near Coquimbo. Head, full size.)

Leaving the coast for a time, we again entered the forest. The
trees were very lofty, and remarkable, compared with those of
Europe, from the whiteness of their trunks. I see by my notebook,
"wonderful and beautiful flowering parasites," invariably struck
me as the most novel object in these grand scenes. Travelling
onwards we passed through tracts of pasturage, much injured by
the enormous conical ants' nests, which were nearly twelve feet
high. They gave to the plain exactly the appearance of the mud
volcanoes at Jorullo, as figured by Humboldt. We arrived at
Engenhodo after it was dark, having been ten hours on horseback.
I never ceased, during the whole journey, to be surprised at the
amount of labour which the horses were capable of enduring; they
appeared also to recover from any injury much sooner than those
of our English breed. The Vampire bat is often the cause of much
trouble, by biting the horses on their withers. The injury is
generally not so much owing to the loss of blood, as to the
inflammation which the pressure of the saddle afterwards
produces. The whole circumstance has lately been doubted in
England; I was therefore fortunate in being present when one
(Desmodus d'orbignyi, Wat.) was actually caught on a horse's
back. We were bivouacking late one evening near Coquimbo, in
Chile, when my servant, noticing that one of the horses was very
restive, went to see what was the matter, and fancying he could
distinguish something, suddenly put his hand on the beast's
withers, and secured the vampire. In the morning the spot where
the bite had been inflicted was easily distinguished from being
slightly swollen and bloody. The third day afterwards we rode the
horse, without any ill effects.

APRIL 13, 1832.

After three days' travelling we arrived at Socgo, the estate of
Senhr Manuel Figuireda, a relation of one of our party. The
house was simple, and, though like a barn in form, was well
suited to the climate. In the sitting-room gilded chairs and
sofas were oddly contrasted with the whitewashed walls, thatched
roof, and windows without glass. The house, together with the
granaries, the stables, and workshops for the blacks, who had
been taught various trades, formed a rude kind of quadrangle; in
the centre of which a large pile of coffee was drying. These
buildings stand on a little hill, overlooking the cultivated
ground, and surrounded on every side by a wall of dark green
luxuriant forest. The chief produce of this part of the country
is coffee. Each tree is supposed to yield annually, on an
average, two pounds; but some give as much as eight. Mandioca or
cassava is likewise cultivated in great quantity. Every part of
this plant is useful: the leaves and stalks are eaten by the
horses, and the roots are ground into a pulp, which, when pressed
dry and baked, forms the farinha, the principal article of
sustenance in the Brazils. It is a curious, though well-known
fact, that the juice of this most nutritious plant is highly
poisonous. A few years ago a cow died at this Faznda, in
consequence of having drunk some of it. Senhr Figuireda told me
that he had planted, the year before, one bag of feija or beans,
and three of rice; the former of which produced eighty, and the
latter three hundred and twenty fold. The pasturage supports a
fine stock of cattle, and the woods are so full of game that a
deer had been killed on each of the three previous days. This
profusion of food showed itself at dinner, where, if the tables
did not groan, the guests surely did; for each person is expected
to eat of every dish. One day, having, as I thought, nicely
calculated so that nothing should go away untasted, to my utter
dismay a roast turkey and a pig appeared in all their substantial
reality. During the meals, it was the employment of a man to
drive out of the room sundry old hounds, and dozens of little
black children, which crawled in together, at every opportunity.
As long as the idea of slavery could be banished, there was
something exceedingly fascinating in this simple and patriarchal
style of living: it was such a perfect retirement and
independence from the rest of the world. As soon as any stranger
is seen arriving, a large bell is set tolling, and generally some
small cannon are fired. The event is thus announced to the rocks
and woods, but to nothing else. One morning I walked out an hour
before daylight to admire the solemn stillness of the scene; at
last, the silence was broken by the morning hymn, raised on high
by the whole body of the blacks; and in this manner their daily
work is generally begun. On such fazndas as these, I have no
doubt the slaves pass happy and contented lives. On Saturday and
Sunday they work for themselves, and in this fertile climate the
labour of two days is sufficient to support a man and his family
for the whole week.

APRIL 14, 1832.

(PLATE 10.  VIRGIN FOREST.)

Leaving Socgo, we rode to another estate on the Rio Mace, which
was the last patch of cultivated ground in that direction. The
estate was two and a half miles long, and the owner had forgotten
how many broad. Only a very small piece had been cleared, yet
almost every acre was capable of yielding all the various rich
productions of a tropical land. Considering the enormous area of
Brazil, the proportion of cultivated ground can scarcely be
considered as anything compared to that which is left in the
state of nature: at some future age, how vast a population it
will support! During the second day's journey we found the road
so shut up that it was necessary that a man should go ahead with
a sword to cut away the creepers. The forest abounded with
beautiful objects; among which the tree ferns, though not large,
were, from their bright green foliage, and the elegant curvature
of their fronds, most worthy of admiration. In the evening it
rained very heavily, and although the thermometer stood at 65
degrees, I felt very cold. As soon as the rain ceased, it was
curious to observe the extraordinary evaporation which commenced
over the whole extent of the forest. At the height of a hundred
feet the hills were buried in a dense white vapour, which rose
like columns of smoke from the most thickly-wooded parts, and
especially from the valleys. I observed this phenomenon on
several occasions: I suppose it is owing to the large surface of
foliage, previously heated by the sun's rays.

While staying at this estate, I was very nearly being an
eye-witness to one of those atrocious acts which can only take
place in a slave country. Owing to a quarrel and a lawsuit, the
owner was on the point of taking all the women and children from
the male slaves, and selling them separately at the public
auction at Rio. Interest, and not any feeling of compassion,
prevented this act. Indeed, I do not believe the inhumanity of
separating thirty families, who had lived together for many
years, even occurred to the owner. Yet I will pledge myself, that
in humanity and good feeling he was superior to the common run of
men. It may be said there exists no limit to the blindness of
interest and selfish habit. I may mention one very trifling
anecdote, which at the time struck me more forcibly than any
story of cruelty. I was crossing a ferry with a negro who was
uncommonly stupid. In endeavouring to make him understand, I
talked loud, and made signs, in doing which I passed my hand near
his face. He, I suppose, thought I was in a passion, and was
going to strike him; for instantly, with a frightened look and
half-shut eyes, he dropped his hands. I shall never forget my
feelings of surprise, disgust, and shame, at seeing a great
powerful man afraid even to ward off a blow, directed, as he
thought, at his face. This man had been trained to a degradation
lower than the slavery of the most helpless animal.

APRIL 18, 1832.

(PLATE 11.  CABBAGE PALM.)

In returning we spent two days at Socgo, and I employed them in
collecting insects in the forest. The greater number of trees,
although so lofty, are not more than three or four feet in
circumference. There are, of course, a few of much greater
dimension. Senhr Manuel was then making a canoe 70 feet in
length from a solid trunk, which had originally been 110 feet
long, and of great thickness. The contrast of palm trees, growing
amidst the common branching kinds, never fails to give the scene
an intertropical character. Here the woods were ornamented by the
Cabbage Palm--one of the most beautiful of its family. With a
stem so narrow that it might be clasped with the two hands, it
waves its elegant head at the height of forty or fifty feet above
the ground. The woody creepers, themselves covered by other
creepers, were of great thickness: some which I measured were two
feet in circumference. Many of the older trees presented a very
curious appearance from the tresses of a liana hanging from their
boughs, and resembling bundles of hay. If the eye was turned from
the world of foliage above, to the ground beneath, it was
attracted by the extreme elegance of the leaves of the ferns and
mimosae. The latter, in some parts, covered the surface with a
brushwood only a few inches high. In walking across these thick
beds of mimosae, a broad track was marked by the change of shade,
produced by the drooping of their sensitive petioles. It is easy
to specify the individual objects of admiration in these grand
scenes; but it is not possible to give an adequate idea of the
higher feelings of wonder, astonishment, and devotion, which fill
and elevate the mind.

(PLATE 12.  MANDIOCA OR CASSAVA.)

APRIL 19, 1832.

Leaving Socgo, during the two first days we retraced our steps.
It was very wearisome work, as the road generally ran across a
glaring hot sandy plain, not far from the coast. I noticed that
each time the horse put its foot on the fine siliceous sand, a
gentle chirping noise was produced. On the third day we took a
different line, and passed through the gay little village of
Madre de Des. This is one of the principal lines of road in
Brazil; yet it was in so bad a state that no wheel vehicle,
excepting the clumsy bullock-wagon, could pass along. In our
whole journey we did not cross a single bridge built of stone;
and those made of logs of wood were frequently so much out of
repair that it was necessary to go on one side to avoid them. All
distances are inaccurately known. The road is often marked by
crosses, in the place of milestones, to signify where human blood
has been spilled. On the evening of the 23rd we arrived at Rio,
having finished our pleasant little excursion.

During the remainder of my stay at Rio, I resided in a cottage at
Botofogo Bay. It was impossible to wish for anything more
delightful than thus to spend some weeks in so magnificent a
country. In England any person fond of natural history enjoys in
his walks a great advantage, by always having something to
attract his attention; but in these fertile climates, teeming
with life, the attractions are so numerous, that he is scarcely
able to walk at all.

The few observations which I was enabled to make were almost
exclusively confined to the invertebrate animals. The existence
of a division of the genus Planaria, which inhabits the dry land,
interested me much. These animals are of so simple a structure,
that Cuvier has arranged them with the intestinal worms, though
never found within the bodies of other animals. Numerous species
inhabit both salt and fresh water; but those to which I allude
were found, even in the drier parts of the forest, beneath logs
of rotten wood, on which I believe they feed. In general form
they resemble little slugs, but are very much narrower in
proportion, and several of the species are beautifully coloured
with longitudinal stripes. Their structure is very simple: near
the middle of the under or crawling surface there are two small
transverse slits, from the anterior one of which a funnel-shaped
and highly irritable mouth can be protruded. For some time after
the rest of the animal was completely dead from the effects of
salt water or any other cause, this organ still retained its
vitality.

I found no less than twelve different species of terrestrial
Planariae in different parts of the southern hemisphere. (2/3. I
have described and named these species in the "Annals of Natural
History" volume 14 page 241.) Some specimens which I obtained at
Van Dieman's Land, I kept alive for nearly two months, feeding
them on rotten wood. Having cut one of them transversely into two
nearly equal parts, in the course of a fortnight both had the
shape of perfect animals. I had, however, so divided the body,
that one of the halves contained both the inferior orifices, and
the other, in consequence, none. In the course of twenty-five
days from the operation, the more perfect half could not have
been distinguished from any other specimen. The other had
increased much in size; and towards its posterior end, a clear
space was formed in the parenchymatous mass, in which a
rudimentary cup-shaped mouth could clearly be distinguished; on
the under surface, however, no corresponding slit was yet open.
If the increased heat of the weather, as we approached the
equator, had not destroyed all the individuals, there can be no
doubt that this last step would have completed its structure.
Although so well known an experiment, it was interesting to watch
the gradual production of every essential organ, out of the
simple extremity of another animal. It is extremely difficult to
preserve these Planariae; as soon as the cessation of life allows
the ordinary laws of change to act, their entire bodies become
soft and fluid, with a rapidity which I have never seen equalled.

I first visited the forest in which these Planariae were found,
in company with an old Portuguese priest who took me out to hunt
with him. The sport consisted in turning into the cover a few
dogs, and then patiently waiting to fire at any animal which
might appear. We were accompanied by the son of a neighbouring
farmer--a good specimen of a wild Brazilian youth. He was dressed
in a tattered old shirt and trousers, and had his head uncovered:
he carried an old-fashioned gun and a large knife. The habit of
carrying the knife is universal; and in traversing a thick wood
it is almost necessary, on account of the creeping plants. The
frequent occurrence of murder may be partly attributed to this
habit. The Brazilians are so dexterous with the knife that they
can throw it to some distance with precision, and with sufficient
force to cause a fatal wound. I have seen a number of little boys
practising this art as a game of play, and from their skill in
hitting an upright stick, they promised well for more earnest
attempts. My companion, the day before, had shot two large
bearded monkeys. These animals have prehensile tails, the
extremity of which, even after death, can support the whole
weight of the body. One of them thus remained fast to a branch,
and it was necessary to cut down a large tree to procure it. This
was soon effected, and down came tree and monkey with an awful
crash. Our day's sport, besides the monkey, was confined to
sundry small green parrots and a few toucans. I profited,
however, by my acquaintance with the Portuguese padre, for on
another occasion he gave me a fine specimen of the Yagouaroundi
cat.

Every one has heard of the beauty of the scenery near Botofogo.
The house in which I lived was seated close beneath the
well-known mountain of the Corcovado. It has been remarked, with
much truth, that abruptly conical hills are characteristic of the
formation which Humboldt designates as gneiss-granite. Nothing
can be more striking than the effect of these huge rounded masses
of naked rock rising out of the most luxuriant vegetation.

I was often interested by watching the clouds, which, rolling in
from seaward, formed a bank just beneath the highest point of the
Corcovado. This mountain, like most others, when thus partly
veiled, appeared to rise to a far prouder elevation than its real
height of 2300 feet. Mr. Daniell has observed, in his
meteorological essays, that a cloud sometimes appears fixed on a
mountain summit, while the wind continues to blow over it. The
same phenomenon here presented a slightly different appearance.
In this case the cloud was clearly seen to curl over, and rapidly
pass by the summit, and yet was neither diminished nor increased
in size. The sun was setting, and a gentle southerly breeze,
striking against the southern side of the rock, mingled its
current with the colder air above; and the vapour was thus
condensed: but as the light wreaths of cloud passed over the
ridge, and came within the influence of the warmer atmosphere of
the northern sloping bank, they were immediately redissolved.

The climate, during the months of May and June, or the beginning
of winter, was delightful. The mean temperature, from
observations taken at nine o'clock, both morning and evening, was
only 72 degrees. It often rained heavily, but the drying
southerly winds soon again rendered the walks pleasant. One
morning, in the course of six hours, 1.6 inches of rain fell. As
this storm passed over the forests which surround the Corcovado,
the sound produced by the drops pattering on the countless
multitude of leaves was very remarkable, it could be heard at the
distance of a quarter of a mile, and was like the rushing of a
great body of water. After the hotter days, it was delicious to
sit quietly in the garden and watch the evening pass into night.
Nature, in these climes, chooses her vocalists from more humble
performers than in Europe. A small frog, of the genus Hyla, sits
on a blade of grass about an inch above the surface of the water,
and sends forth a pleasing chirp: when several are together they
sing in harmony on different notes. I had some difficulty in
catching a specimen of this frog. The genus Hyla has its toes
terminated by small suckers; and I found this animal could crawl
up a pane of glass, when placed absolutely perpendicular. Various
cicadae and crickets, at the same time, keep up a ceaseless
shrill cry, but which, softened by the distance, is not
unpleasant. Every evening after dark this great concert
commenced; and often have I sat listening to it, until my
attention has been drawn away by some curious passing insect.

At these times the fireflies are seen flitting about from hedge
to hedge. On a dark night the light can be seen at about two
hundred paces distant. It is remarkable that in all the different
kinds of glowworms, shining elaters, and various marine animals
(such as the crustacea, medusae, nereidae, a coralline of the
genus Clytia, and Pyrosoma), which I have observed, the light has
been of a well-marked green colour. All the fireflies, which I
caught here, belonged to the Lampyridae (in which family the
English glowworm is included), and the greater number of
specimens were of Lampyris occidentalis. (2/4. I am greatly
indebted to Mr. Waterhouse for his kindness in naming for me this
and many other insects, and  giving me much valuable assistance.)
I found that this insect emitted the most brilliant flashes when
irritated: in the intervals, the abdominal rings were obscured.
The flash was almost coinstantaneous in the two rings, but it was
just perceptible first in the anterior one. The shining matter
was fluid and very adhesive: little spots, where the skin had
been torn, continued bright with a slight scintillation, whilst
the uninjured parts were obscured. When the insect was
decapitated the rings remained uninterruptedly bright, but not so
brilliant as before: local irritation with a needle always
increased the vividness of the light. The rings in one instance
retained their luminous property nearly twenty-four hours after
the death of the insect. From these facts it would appear
probable, that the animal has only the power of concealing or
extinguishing the light for short intervals, and that at other
times the display is involuntary. On the muddy and wet
gravel-walks I found the larvae of this lampyris in great
numbers: they resembled in general form the female of the English
glowworm. These larvae possessed but feeble luminous powers; very
differently from their parents, on the slightest touch they
feigned death, and ceased to shine; nor did irritation excite any
fresh display. I kept several of them alive for some time: their
tails are very singular organs, for they act, by a well-fitted
contrivance, as suckers or organs of attachment, and likewise as
reservoirs for saliva, or some such fluid. I repeatedly fed them
on raw meat; and I invariably observed, that every now and then
the extremity of the tail was applied to the mouth, and a drop of
fluid exuded on the meat, which was then in the act of being
consumed. The tail, notwithstanding so much practice, does not
seem to be able to find its way to the mouth; at least the neck
was always touched first, and apparently as a guide.

When we were at Bahia, an elater or beetle (Pyrophorus luminosus,
Illig.) seemed the most common luminous insect. The light in this
case was also rendered more brilliant by irritation. I amused
myself one day by observing the springing powers of this insect,
which have not, as it appears to me, been properly described.
(2/5. Kirby's "Entomology" volume 2 page 317.) The elater, when
placed on its back and preparing to spring, moved its head and
thorax backwards, so that the pectoral spine was drawn out, and
rested on the edge of its sheath. The same backward movement
being continued, the spine, by the full action of the muscles,
was bent like a spring; and the insect at this moment rested on
the extremity of its head and wing-cases. The effort being
suddenly relaxed, the head and thorax flew up, and in
consequence, the base of the wing-cases struck the supporting
surface with such force, that the insect by the reaction was
jerked upwards to the height of one or two inches. The projecting
points of the thorax, and the sheath of the spine, served to
steady the whole body during the spring. In the descriptions
which I have read, sufficient stress does not appear to have been
laid on the elasticity of the spine: so sudden a spring could not
be the result of simple muscular contraction, without the aid of
some mechanical contrivance.

On several occasions I enjoyed some short but most pleasant
excursions in the neighbouring country. One day I went to the
Botanic Garden, where many plants, well known for their great
utility, might be seen growing. The leaves of the camphor,
pepper, cinnamon, and clove trees were delightfully aromatic; and
the bread-fruit, the jaca, and the mango, vied with each other in
the magnificence of their foliage. The landscape in the
neighbourhood of Bahia almost takes its character from the two
latter trees. Before seeing them, I had no idea that any trees
could cast so black a shade on the ground. Both of them bear to
the evergreen vegetation of these climates the same kind of
relation which laurels and hollies in England do to the lighter
green of the deciduous trees. It may be observed that the houses
within the tropics are surrounded by the most beautiful forms of
vegetation, because many of them are at the same time most useful
to man. Who can doubt that these qualities are united in the
banana, the cocoa-nut, the many kinds of palm, the orange, and
the bread-fruit tree?

During this day I was particularly struck with a remark of
Humboldt's, who often alludes to "the thin vapour which, without
changing the transparency of the air, renders its tints more
harmonious, and softens its effects." This is an appearance which
I have never observed in the temperate zones. The atmosphere,
seen through a short space of half or three-quarters of a mile,
was perfectly lucid, but at a greater distance all colours were
blended into a most beautiful haze, of a pale French grey,
mingled with a little blue. The condition of the atmosphere
between the morning and about noon, when the effect was most
evident, had undergone little change, excepting in its dryness.
In the interval, the difference between the dew point and
temperature had increased from 7.5 to 17 degrees.

On another occasion I started early and walked to the Gavia, or
topsail mountain. The air was delightfully cool and fragrant; and
the drops of dew still glittered on the leaves of the large
liliaceous plants, which shaded the streamlets of clear water.
Sitting down on a block of granite, it was delightful to watch
the various insects and birds as they flew past. The humming-bird
seems particularly fond of such shady retired spots. Whenever I
saw these little creatures buzzing round a flower, with their
wings vibrating so rapidly as to be scarcely visible, I was
reminded of the sphinx moths: their movements and habits are
indeed in many respects very similar.

(PLATE 13.  RIO DE JANEIRO.)

Following a pathway I entered a noble forest, and from a height
of five or six hundred feet, one of those splendid views was
presented, which are so common on every side of Rio. At this
elevation the landscape attains its most brilliant tint; and
every form, every shade, so completely surpasses in magnificence
all that the European has ever beheld in his own country, that he
knows not how to express his feelings. The general effect
frequently recalled to my mind the gayest scenery of the
Opera-house or the great theatres. I never returned from these
excursions empty-handed. This day I found a specimen of a curious
fungus, called Hymenophallus. Most people know the English
Phallus, which in autumn taints the air with its odious smell:
this, however, as the entomologist is aware, is to some of our
beetles a delightful fragrance. So was it here; for a Strongylus,
attracted by the odour, alighted on the fungus as I carried it in
my hand. We here see in two distant countries a similar relation
between plants and insects of the same families, though the
species of both are different. When man is the agent in
introducing into a country a new species this relation is often
broken: as one instance of this I may mention that the leaves of
the cabbages and lettuces, which in England afford food to such a
multitude of slugs and caterpillars, in the gardens near Rio are
untouched.

During our stay at Brazil I made a large collection of insects. A
few general observations on the comparative importance of the
different orders may be interesting to the English entomologist.
The large and brilliantly-coloured Lepidoptera bespeak the zone
they inhabit, far more plainly than any other race of animals. I
allude only to the butterflies; for the moths, contrary to what
might have been expected from the rankness of the vegetation,
certainly appeared in much fewer numbers than in our own
temperate regions. I was much surprised at the habits of Papilio
feronia. This butterfly is not uncommon, and generally frequents
the orange-groves. Although a high flier, yet it very frequently
alights on the trunks of trees. On these occasions its head is
invariably placed downwards; and its wings are expanded in a
horizontal plane, instead of being folded vertically, as is
commonly the case. This is the only butterfly which I have ever
seen that uses its legs for running. Not being aware of this
fact, the insect, more than once, as I cautiously approached with
my forceps, shuffled on one side just as the instrument was on
the point of closing, and thus escaped. But a far more singular
fact is the power which this species possesses of making a noise.
(2/6. Mr. Doubleday has lately described (before the
Entomological Society, March 3, 1845) a peculiar structure in the
wings of this butterfly, which seems to be the means of its
making its noise. He says, "It is remarkable for having a sort of
drum at the base of the fore wings, between the costal nervure
and the subcostal. These two nervures, moreover, have a peculiar
screw-like diaphragm or vessel in the interior." I find in
Langsdorff's travels (in the years 1803-7 page 74) it is said,
that in the island of St. Catherine's on the coast of Brazil, a
butterfly called Februa Hoffmanseggi, makes a noise, when flying
away, like a rattle.) Several times when a pair, probably male
and female, were chasing each other in an irregular course, they
passed within a few yards of me; and I distinctly heard a
clicking noise, similar to that produced by a toothed wheel
passing under a spring catch. The noise was continued at short
intervals, and could be distinguished at about twenty yards'
distance: I am certain there is no error in the observation.

I was disappointed in the general aspect of the Coleoptera. The
number of minute and obscurely coloured beetles is exceedingly
great. (2/7. I may mention, as a common instance of one day's
(June 23rd) collecting, when I was not attending particularly to
the Coleoptera, that I caught sixty-eight species of that order.
Among these, there were only two of the Carabidae, four
Brachelytra, fifteen Rhyncophora, and fourteen of the
Chrysomelidae. Thirty-seven species of Arachnidae, which I
brought home, will be sufficient to prove that I was not paying
overmuch attention to the generally favoured order of
Coleoptera.) The cabinets of Europe can, as yet, boast only of
the larger species from tropical climates. It is sufficient to
disturb the composure of an entomologist's mind, to look forward
to the future dimensions of a complete catalogue. The carnivorous
beetles, or Carabidae, appear in extremely few numbers within the
tropics: this is the more remarkable when compared to the case of
the carnivorous quadrupeds, which are so abundant in hot
countries. I was struck with this observation both on entering
Brazil, and when I saw the many elegant and active forms of the
Harpalidae reappearing on the temperate plains of La Plata. Do
the very numerous spiders and rapacious Hymenoptera supply the
place of the carnivorous beetles? The carrion-feeders and
Brachelytra are very uncommon; on the other hand, the Rhyncophora
and Chrysomelidae, all of which depend on the vegetable world for
subsistence, are present in astonishing numbers. I do not here
refer to the number of different species, but to that of the
individual insects; for on this it is that the most striking
character in the entomology of different countries depends. The
orders Orthoptera and Hemiptera are particularly numerous; as
likewise is the stinging division of the Hymenoptera; the bees,
perhaps, being excepted. A person, on first entering a tropical
forest, is astonished at the labours of the ants: well-beaten
paths branch off in every direction, on which an army of
never-failing foragers may be seen, some going forth, and others
returning, burdened with pieces of green leaf, often larger than
their own bodies.

A small dark-coloured ant sometimes migrates in countless
numbers. One day, at Bahia, my attention was drawn by observing
many spiders, cockroaches, and other insects, and some lizards,
rushing in the greatest agitation across a bare piece of ground.
A little way behind, every stalk and leaf was blackened by a
small ant. The swarm having crossed the bare space, divided
itself, and descended an old wall. By this means many insects
were fairly enclosed; and the efforts which the poor little
creatures made to extricate themselves from such a death were
wonderful. When the ants came to the road they changed their
course, and in narrow files reascended the wall. Having placed a
small stone so as to intercept one of the lines, the whole body
attacked it, and then immediately retired. Shortly afterwards
another body came to the charge, and again having failed to make
any impression, this line of march was entirely given up. By
going an inch round, the file might have avoided the stone, and
this doubtless would have happened, if it had been originally
there: but having been attacked, the lion-hearted little warriors
scorned the idea of yielding.

Certain wasp-like insects, which construct in the corners of the
verandahs clay cells for their larvae, are very numerous in the
neighbourhood of Rio. These cells they stuff full of half-dead
spiders and caterpillars, which they seem wonderfully to know how
to sting to that degree as to leave them paralysed but alive,
until their eggs are hatched; and the larvae feed on the horrid
mass of powerless, half-killed victims--a sight which has been
described by an enthusiastic naturalist as curious and pleasing!
(2/8. In a Manuscript in the British Museum by Mr. Abbott, who
made his observations in Georgia; see Mr. A. White's paper in the
"Annals of Natural History" volume 7 page 472. Lieutenant Hutton
has described a sphex with similar habits in India, in the
"Journal of the Asiatic Society" volume 1 page 555.) I was much
interested one day by watching a deadly contest between a Pepsis
and a large spider of the genus Lycosa. The wasp made a sudden
dash at its prey, and then flew away: the spider was evidently
wounded, for, trying to escape, it rolled down a little slope,
but had still strength sufficient to crawl into a thick tuft of
grass. The wasp soon returned, and seemed surprised at not
immediately finding its victim. It then commenced as regular a
hunt as ever hound did after fox; making short semicircular
casts, and all the time rapidly vibrating its wings and antennae.
The spider, though well concealed, was soon discovered, and the
wasp, evidently still afraid of its adversary's jaws, after much
manoeuvring, inflicted two stings on the under side of its
thorax. At last, carefully examining with its antennae the now
motionless spider, it proceeded to drag away the body. But I
stopped both tyrant and prey. (2/9. Don Felix Azara volume 1 page
175, mentioning a hymenopterous insect, probably of the same
genus, says he saw it dragging a dead spider through tall grass,
in a straight line to its nest, which was one hundred and
sixty-three paces distant. He adds that the wasp, in order to
find the road, every now and then made "demi-tours d'environ
trois palmes.")

The number of spiders, in proportion to other insects, is here
compared with England very much larger; perhaps more so than with
any other division of the articulate animals. The variety of
species among the jumping spiders appears almost infinite. The
genus, or rather family of Epeira, is here characterized by many
singular forms; some species have pointed coriaceous shells,
others enlarged and spiny tibiae. Every path in the forest is
barricaded with the strong yellow web of a species, belonging to
the same division with the Epeira clavipes of Fabricius, which
was formerly said by Sloane to make, in the West Indies, webs so
strong as to catch birds. A small and pretty kind of spider, with
very long fore-legs, and which appears to belong to an
undescribed genus, lives as a parasite on almost every one of
these webs. I suppose it is too insignificant to be noticed by
the great Epeira, and is therefore allowed to prey on the minute
insects, which, adhering to the lines, would otherwise be wasted.
When frightened, this little spider either feigns death by
extending its front legs, or suddenly drops from the web. A large
Epeira of the same division with Epeira tuberculata and conica is
extremely common, especially in dry situations. Its web, which is
generally placed among the great leaves of the common agave, is
sometimes strengthened near the centre by a pair or even four
zigzag ribbons, which connect two adjoining rays. When any large
insect, as a grasshopper or wasp, is caught, the spider, by a
dexterous movement, makes it revolve very rapidly, and at the
same time emitting a band of threads from its spinners, soon
envelops its prey in a case like the cocoon of a silkworm. The
spider now examines the powerless victim, and gives the fatal
bite on the hinder part of its thorax; then retreating, patiently
waits till the poison has taken effect. The virulence of this
poison may be judged of from the fact that in half a minute I
opened the mesh, and found a large wasp quite lifeless. This
Epeira always stands with its head downwards near the centre of
the web. When disturbed, it acts differently according to
circumstances: if there is a thicket below, it suddenly falls
down; and I have distinctly seen the thread from the spinners
lengthened by the animal while yet stationary, as preparatory to
its fall. If the ground is clear beneath, the Epeira seldom
falls, but moves quickly through a central passage from one to
the other side. When still further disturbed, it practises a most
curious manoeuvre: standing in the middle, it violently jerks the
web, which is attached to elastic twigs, till at last the whole
acquires such a rapid vibratory movement, that even the outline
of the spider's body becomes indistinct.

It is well known that most of the British spiders, when a large
insect is caught in their webs, endeavour to cut the lines and
liberate their prey, to save their nets from being entirely
spoiled. I once, however, saw in a hot-house in Shropshire a
large female wasp caught in the irregular web of a quite small
spider; and this spider, instead of cutting the web, most
perseveringly continued to entangle the body, and especially the
wings, of its prey. The wasp at first aimed in vain repeated
thrusts with its sting at its little antagonist. Pitying the
wasp, after allowing it to struggle for more than an hour, I
killed it and put it back into the web. The spider soon returned;
and an hour afterwards I was much surprised to find it with its
jaws buried in the orifice through which the sting is protruded
by the living wasp. I drove the spider away two or three times,
but for the next twenty-four hours I always found it again
sucking at the same place. The spider became much distended by
the juices of its prey, which was many times larger than itself.

I may here just mention, that I found, near St. F Bajada, many
large black spiders, with ruby-coloured marks on their backs,
having gregarious habits. The webs were placed vertically, as is
invariably the case with the genus Epeira: they were separated
from each other by a space of about two feet, but were all
attached to certain common lines, which were of great length, and
extended to all parts of the community. In this manner the tops
of some large bushes were encompassed by the united nets. Azara
has described a gregarious spider in Paraguay, which Walckanaer
thinks must be a Theridion, but probably it is an Epeira, and
perhaps even the same species with mine. (2/10. Azara's "Voyage"
volume 1 page 213.) I cannot, however, recollect seeing a central
nest as large as a hat, in which, during autumn, when the spiders
die, Azara says the eggs are deposited. As all the spiders which
I saw were of the same size, they must have been nearly of the
same age. This gregarious habit, in so typical a genus as Epeira,
among insects, which are so bloodthirsty and solitary that even
the two sexes attack each other, is a very singular fact.

In a lofty valley of the Cordillera, near Mendoza, I found
another spider with a singularly-formed web. Strong lines
radiated in a vertical plane from a common centre, where the
insect had its station; but only two of the rays were connected
by a symmetrical mesh-work; so that the net, instead of being, as
is generally the case, circular, consisted of a wedge-shaped
segment. All the webs were similarly constructed.

(PLATE 14.  DARWIN'S PAPILIO FERONIA, 1833, NOW CALLED AGERONIA
FERONIA, 1889.)

CHAPTER III.

(PLATE 15.  HYDROCHAERUS CAPYBARA OR WATER-HOG.)

Monte Video.
Maldonado.
Excursion to R. Polanco.
Lazo and Bolas.
Partridges.
Absence of Trees.
Deer.
Capybara, or River Hog.
Tucutuco.
Molothrus, cuckoo-like habits.
Tyrant-flycatcher.
Mocking-bird.
Carrion Hawks.
Tubes formed by Lightning.
House struck.

MALDONADO.

JULY 5, 1832.

In the morning we got under way, and stood out of the splendid
harbour of Rio de Janeiro. In our passage to the Plata, we saw
nothing particular, excepting on one day a great shoal of
porpoises, many hundreds in number. The whole sea was in places
furrowed by them; and a most extraordinary spectacle was
presented, as hundreds, proceeding together by jumps, in which
their whole bodies were exposed, thus cut the water. When the
ship was running nine knots an hour, these animals could cross
and recross the bows with the greatest ease, and then dash away
right ahead. As soon as we entered the estuary of the Plata, the
weather was very unsettled. One dark night we were surrounded by
numerous seals and penguins, which made such strange noises, that
the officer on watch reported he could hear the cattle bellowing
on shore. On a second night we witnessed a splendid scene of
natural fireworks; the mast-head and yard-arm-ends shone with St.
Elmo's light; and the form of the vane could almost be traced, as
if it had been rubbed with phosphorus. The sea was so highly
luminous, that the tracks of the penguins were marked by a fiery
wake, and the darkness of the sky was momentarily illuminated by
the most vivid lightning.

When within the mouth of the river, I was interested by observing
how slowly the waters of the sea and river mixed. The latter,
muddy and discoloured, from its less specific gravity, floated on
the surface of the salt water. This was curiously exhibited in
the wake of the vessel, where a line of blue water was seen
mingling in little eddies with the adjoining fluid.

JULY 26, 1832.

We anchored at Monte Video. The "Beagle" was employed in
surveying the extreme southern and eastern coasts of America,
south of the Plata, during the two succeeding years. To prevent
useless repetitions, I will extract those parts of my journal
which refer to the same districts, without always attending to
the order in which we visited them.

MALDONADO is situated on the northern bank of the Plata, and not
very far from the mouth of the estuary. It is a most quiet,
forlorn, little town; built, as is universally the case in these
countries, with the streets running at right angles to each
other, and having in the middle a large plaza or square, which,
from its size, renders the scantiness of the population more
evident. It possesses scarcely any trade; the exports being
confined to a few hides and living cattle. The inhabitants are
chiefly landowners, together with a few shopkeepers and the
necessary tradesmen, such as blacksmiths and carpenters, who do
nearly all the business for a circuit of fifty miles round. The
town is separated from the river by a band of sand-hillocks,
about a mile broad: it is surrounded on all other sides by an
open slightly-undulating country, covered by one uniform layer of
fine green turf, on which countless herds of cattle, sheep, and
horses graze. There is very little land cultivated even close to
the town. A few hedges made of cacti and agave mark out where
some wheat or Indian corn has been planted. The features of the
country are very similar along the whole northern bank of the
Plata. The only difference is, that here the granitic hills are a
little bolder. The scenery is very uninteresting; there is
scarcely a house, an enclosed piece of ground, or even a tree, to
give it an air of cheerfulness. Yet, after being imprisoned for
some time in a ship, there is a charm in the unconfined feeling
of walking over boundless plains of turf. Moreover, if your view
is limited to a small space, many objects possess beauty. Some of
the smaller birds are brilliantly coloured; and the bright green
sward, browsed short by the cattle, is ornamented by dwarf
flowers, among which a plant, looking like the daisy, claimed the
place of an old friend. What would a florist say to whole tracts,
so thickly covered by the Verbena melindres, as, even at a
distance, to appear of the most gaudy scarlet?

I stayed ten weeks at Maldonado, in which time a nearly perfect
collection of the animals, birds, and reptiles, was procured.
Before making any observations respecting them, I will give an
account of a little excursion I made as far as the river Polanco,
which is about seventy miles distant, in a northerly direction. I
may mention, as a proof how cheap everything is in this country,
that I paid only two dollars a day or eight shillings, for two
men, together with a troop of about a dozen riding-horses. My
companions were well armed with pistols and sabres; a precaution
which I thought rather unnecessary; but the first piece of news
we heard was, that, the day before, a traveller from Monte Video
had been found dead on the road, with his throat cut. This
happened close to a cross, the record of a former murder.

On the first night we slept at a retired little country-house;
and there I soon found out that I possessed two or three
articles, especially a pocket compass, which created unbounded
astonishment. In every house I was asked to show the compass, and
by its aid, together with a map, to point out the direction of
various places. It excited the liveliest admiration that I, a
perfect stranger, should know the road (for direction and road
are synonymous in this open country) to places where I had never
been. At one house a young woman who was ill in bed, sent to
entreat me to come and show her the compass. If their surprise
was great, mine was greater, to find such ignorance among people
who possessed their thousands of cattle, and "estancias" of great
extent. It can only be accounted for by the circumstance that
this retired part of the country is seldom visited by foreigners.
I was asked whether the earth or sun moved; whether it was hotter
or colder to the north; where Spain was, and many other such
questions. The greater number of the inhabitants had an
indistinct idea that England, London, and North America, were
different names for the same place; but the better informed well
knew that London and North America were separate countries close
together, and that England was a large town in London! I carried
with me some promethean matches, which I ignited by biting; it
was thought so wonderful that a man should strike fire with his
teeth, that it was usual to collect the whole family to see it: I
was once offered a dollar for a single one. Washing my face in
the morning caused much speculation at the village of Las Minas;
a superior tradesman closely cross-questioned me about so
singular a practice; and likewise why on board we wore our
beards; for he had heard from my guide that we did so. He eyed me
with much suspicion; perhaps he had heard of ablutions in the
Mahomedan religion, and knowing me to be a heretic, probably he
came to the conclusion that all heretics were Turks. It is the
general custom in this country to ask for a night's lodging at
the first convenient house. The astonishment at the compass, and
my other feats of jugglery, was to a certain degree advantageous,
as with that, and the long stories my guides told of my breaking
stones, knowing venomous from harmless snakes, collecting
insects, etc., I repaid them for their hospitality. I am writing
as if I had been among the inhabitants of Central Africa: Banda
Oriental would not be flattered by the comparison; but such were
my feelings at the time.

The next day we rode to the village of Las Minas. The country was
rather more hilly, but otherwise continued the same; an
inhabitant of the Pampas no doubt would have considered it as
truly alpine. The country is so thinly inhabited, that during the
whole day we scarcely met a single person. Las Minas is much
smaller even than Maldonado. It is seated on a little plain, and
is surrounded by low rocky mountains. It is of the usual
symmetrical form, and with its whitewashed church standing in the
centre, had rather a pretty appearance. The outskirting houses
rose out of the plain like isolated beings, without the
accompaniment of gardens or courtyards. This is generally the
case in the country, and all the houses have, in consequence, an
uncomfortable aspect. At night we stopped at a pulperia, or
drinking-shop. During the evening a great number of Gauchos came
in to drink spirits and smoke cigars: their appearance is very
striking; they are generally tall and handsome, but with a proud
and dissolute expression of countenance. They frequently wear
their moustaches, and long black hair curling down their backs.
With their brightly coloured garments, great spurs clanking about
their heels, and knives stuck as daggers (and often so used) at
their waists, they look a very different race of men from what
might be expected from their name of Gauchos, or simple
countrymen. Their politeness is excessive; they never drink their
spirits without expecting you to taste it; but whilst making
their exceedingly graceful bow, they seem quite as ready, if
occasion offered, to cut your throat.

On the third day we pursued rather an irregular course, as I was
employed in examining some beds of marble. On the fine plains of
turf we saw many ostriches (Struthio rhea). Some of the flocks
contained as many as twenty or thirty birds. These, when standing
on any little eminence, and seen against the clear sky, presented
a very noble appearance. I never met with such tame ostriches in
any other part of the country: it was easy to gallop up within a
short distance of them; but then, expanding their wings, they
made all sail right before the wind, and soon left the horse
astern.

At night we came to the house of Don Juan Fuentes, a rich landed
proprietor, but not personally known to either of my companions.
On approaching the house of a stranger, it is usual to follow
several little points of etiquette: riding up slowly to the door,
the salutation of Ave Maria is given, and until somebody comes
out and asks you to alight, it is not customary even to get off
your horse: the formal answer of the owner is, "sin pecado
concebida"--that is, conceived without sin. Having entered the
house, some general conversation is kept up for a few minutes,
till permission is asked to pass the night there. This is granted
as a matter of course. The stranger then takes his meals with the
family, and a room is assigned him, where with the horsecloths
belonging to his recado (or saddle of the Pampas) he makes his
bed. It is curious how similar circumstances produce such similar
results in manners. At the Cape of Good Hope the same
hospitality, and very nearly the same points of etiquette, are
universally observed. The difference, however, between the
character of the Spaniard and that of the Dutch boor is shown, by
the former never asking his guest a single question beyond the
strictest rule of politeness, whilst the honest Dutchman demands
where he has been, where he is going, what is his business, and
even how many brothers, sisters, or children he may happen to
have.

Shortly after our arrival at Don Juan's one of the largest herds
of cattle was driven in towards the house, and three beasts were
picked out to be slaughtered for the supply of the establishment.
These half-wild cattle are very active; and knowing full well the
fatal lazo, they led the horses a long and laborious chase. After
witnessing the rude wealth displayed in the number of cattle,
men, and horses, Don Juan's miserable house was quite curious.
The floor consisted of hardened mud, and the windows were without
glass; the sitting-room boasted only of a few of the roughest
chairs and stools, with a couple of tables. The supper, although
several strangers were present, consisted of two huge piles, one
of roast beef, the other of boiled, with some pieces of pumpkin:
besides this latter there was no other vegetable, and not even a
morsel of bread. For drinking, a large earthenware jug of water
served the whole party. Yet this man was the owner of several
square miles of land, of which nearly every acre would produce
corn, and, with a little trouble, all the common vegetables. The
evening was spent in smoking, with a little impromptu singing,
accompanied by the guitar. The signoritas all sat together in one
corner of the room, and did not sup with the men.

(PLATE 16.  RECADO OR SURCINGLE OF GAUCHO.)

So many works have been written about these countries, that it is
almost superfluous to describe either the lazo or the bolas. The
lazo consists of a very strong, but thin, well-plaited rope, made
of raw hide. One end is attached to the broad surcingle, which
fastens together the complicated gear of the recado, or saddle
used in the Pampas; the other is terminated by a small ring of
iron or brass, by which a noose can be formed. The Gaucho, when
he is going to use the lazo, keeps a small coil in his
bridle-hand, and in the other holds the running noose, which is
made very large, generally having a diameter of about eight feet.
This he whirls round his head, and by the dexterous movement of
his wrist keeps the noose open; then, throwing it, he causes it
to fall on any particular spot he chooses. The lazo, when not
used, is tied up in a small coil to the after part of the recado.
The bolas, or balls, are of two kinds: the simplest, which is
chiefly used for catching ostriches, consists of two round
stones, covered with leather, and united by a thin plaited thong,
about eight feet long. (See Chapter 11.) The other kind differs
only in having three balls united by the thongs to a common
centre. The Gaucho holds the smallest of the three in his hand,
and whirls the other two round and round his head; then, taking
aim, sends them like chain shot revolving through the air. The
balls no sooner strike any object, than, winding round it, they
cross each other, and become firmly hitched. The size and weight
of the balls varies, according to the purpose for which they are
made: when of stone, although not larger than an apple, they are
sent with such force as sometimes to break the leg even of a
horse. I have seen the balls made of wood, and as large as a
turnip, for the sake of catching these animals without injuring
them. The balls are sometimes made of iron, and these can be
hurled to the greatest distance. The main difficulty in using
either lazo or bolas is to ride so well as to be able at full
speed, and while suddenly turning about, to whirl them so
steadily round the head, as to take aim: on foot any person would
soon learn the art. One day, as I was amusing myself by galloping
and whirling the balls round my head, by accident the free one
struck a bush, and its revolving motion being thus destroyed, it
immediately fell to the ground, and, like magic caught one hind
leg of my horse; the other ball was then jerked out of my hand,
and the horse fairly secured. Luckily he was an old practised
animal, and knew what it meant; otherwise he would probably have
kicked till he had thrown himself down. The Gauchos roared with
laughter; they cried out that they had seen every sort of animal
caught, but had never before seen a man caught by himself.

During the two succeeding days, I reached the farthest point
which I was anxious to examine. The country wore the same aspect,
till at last the fine green turf became more wearisome than a
dusty turnpike road. We everywhere saw great numbers of
partridges (Nothura major). These birds do not go in coveys, nor
do they conceal themselves like the English kind. It appears a
very silly bird. A man on horseback by riding round and round in
a circle, or rather in a spire, so as to approach closer each
time, may knock on the head as many as he pleases. The more
common method is to catch them with a running noose, or little
lazo, made of the stem of an ostrich's feather, fastened to the
end of a long stick. A boy on a quiet old horse will frequently
thus catch thirty or forty in a day. In Arctic North America the
Indians catch the Varying Hare by walking spirally round and
round it, when on its form: the middle of the day is reckoned the
best time, when the sun is high, and the shadow of the hunter not
very long. (3/1. Hearne's "Journey" page 383.)

On our return to Maldonado, we followed rather a different line
of road. Near Pan de Azucar, a landmark well known to all those
who have sailed up the Plata, I stayed a day at the house of a
most hospitable old Spaniard. Early in the morning we ascended
the Sierra de las Animas. By the aid of the rising sun the
scenery was almost picturesque. To the westward the view extended
over an immense level plain as far as the Mount, at Monte Video,
and to the eastward, over the mammillated country of Maldonado.
On the summit of the mountain there were several small heaps of
stones, which evidently had lain there for many years. My
companion assured me that they were the work of the Indians in
the old time. The heaps were similar, but on a much smaller
scale, to those so commonly found on the mountains of Wales. The
desire to signalise any event, on the highest point of the
neighbouring land, seems a universal passion with mankind. At the
present day, not a single Indian, either civilised or wild,
exists in this part of the province; nor am I aware that the
former inhabitants have left behind them any more permanent
records than these insignificant piles on the summit of the
Sierra de las Animas.

The general, and almost entire absence of trees in Banda Oriental
is remarkable. Some of the rocky hills are partly covered by
thickets, and on the banks of the larger streams, especially to
the north of Las Minas, willow-trees are not uncommon. Near the
Arroyo Tapes I heard of a wood of palms; and one of these trees,
of considerable size, I saw near the Pan de Azucar, in latitude
35 degrees. These, and the trees planted by the Spaniards, offer
the only exceptions to the general scarcity of wood. Among the
introduced kinds may be enumerated poplars, olives, peach, and
other fruit trees: the peaches succeed so well, that they afford
the main supply of firewood to the city of Buenos Ayres.
Extremely level countries, such as the Pampas, seldom appear
favourable to the growth of trees. This may possibly be
attributed either to the force of the winds, or the kind of
drainage. In the nature of the land, however, around Maldonado,
no such reason is apparent; the rocky mountains afford protected
situations; enjoying various kinds of soil; streamlets of water
are common at the bottoms of nearly every valley; and the clayey
nature of the earth seems adapted to retain moisture. It has been
inferred, with much probability, that the presence of woodland is
generally determined by the annual amount of moisture (3/2.
Maclaren, article "America" "Encyclopedia Brittannica."); yet in
this province abundant and heavy rain falls during the winter;
and the summer, though dry, is not so in any excessive degree.
(3/3. Azara says "Je crois que la quantit annuelle des pluies
est, dans toutes ces contres, plus considrable qu'en
Espagne."--Volume 1 page 36.) We see nearly the whole of
Australia covered by lofty trees, yet that country possesses a
far more arid climate. Hence we must look to some other and
unknown cause.

Confining our view to South America, we should certainly be
tempted to believe that trees flourished only under a very humid
climate; for the limit of the forest-land follows, in a most
remarkable manner, that of the damp winds. In the southern part
of the continent, where the western gales, charged with moisture
from the Pacific, prevail, every island on the broken west coast,
from latitude 38 degrees to the extreme point of Tierra del
Fuego, is densely covered by impenetrable forests. On the eastern
side of the Cordillera, over the same extent of latitude, where a
blue sky and a fine climate prove that the atmosphere has been
deprived of its moisture by passing over the mountains, the arid
plains of Patagonia support a most scanty vegetation. In the more
northern parts of the continent, within the limits of the
constant south-eastern trade-wind, the eastern side is ornamented
by magnificent forests; whilst the western coast, from latitude 4
degrees South to latitude 32 degrees South, may be described as a
desert; on this western coast, northward of latitude 4 degrees
South, where the trade-wind loses its regularity, and heavy
torrents of rain fall periodically, the shores of the Pacific, so
utterly desert in Peru, assume near Cape Blanco the character of
luxuriance so celebrated at Guayaquil and Panama. Hence in the
southern and northern parts of the continent, the forest and
desert lands occupy reversed positions with respect to the
Cordillera, and these positions are apparently determined by the
direction of the prevalent winds. In the middle of the continent
there is a broad intermediate band, including central Chile and
the provinces of La Plata, where the rain-bringing winds have not
to pass over lofty mountains, and where the land is neither a
desert nor covered by forests. But even the rule, if confined to
South America, of trees flourishing only in a climate rendered
humid by rain-bearing winds, has a strongly marked exception in
the case of the Falkland Islands. These islands, situated in the
same latitude with Tierra del Fuego and only between two and
three hundred miles distant from it, having a nearly similar
climate, with a geological formation almost identical, with
favourable situations and the same kind of peaty soil, yet can
boast of few plants deserving even the title of bushes; whilst in
Tierra del Fuego it is impossible to find an acre of land not
covered by the densest forest. In this case, both the direction
of the heavy gales of wind and of the currents of the sea are
favourable to the transport of seeds from Tierra del Fuego, as is
shown by the canoes and trunks of trees drifted from that
country, and frequently thrown on the shores of the Western
Falkland. Hence perhaps it is, that there are many plants in
common to the two countries: but with respect to the trees of
Tierra del Fuego, even attempts made to transplant them have
failed.

During our stay at Maldonado I collected several quadrupeds,
eighty kinds of birds, and many reptiles, including nine species
of snakes. Of the indigenous mammalia, the only one now left of
any size, which is common, is the Cervus campestris. This deer is
exceedingly abundant, often in small herds, throughout the
countries bordering the Plata and in Northern Patagonia. If a
person crawling close along the ground, slowly advances towards a
herd, the deer frequently, out of curiosity, approach to
reconnoitre him. I have by this means, killed from one spot,
three out of the same herd. Although so tame and inquisitive, yet
when approached on horseback, they are exceedingly wary. In this
country nobody goes on foot, and the deer knows man as its enemy
only when he is mounted and armed with the bolas. At Bahia
Blanca, a recent establishment in Northern Patagonia, I was
surprised to find how little the deer cared for the noise of a
gun: one day I fired ten times from within eighty yards at one
animal; and it was much more startled at the ball cutting up the
ground than at the report of the rifle. My powder being
exhausted, I was obliged to get up (to my shame as a sportsman be
it spoken, though well able to kill birds on the wing) and halloo
till the deer ran away.

The most curious fact with respect to this animal, is the
overpoweringly strong and offensive odour which proceeds from the
buck. It is quite indescribable: several times whilst skinning
the specimen which is now mounted at the Zoological Museum, I was
almost overcome by nausea. I tied up the skin in a silk
pocket-handkerchief, and so carried it home: this handkerchief,
after being well washed, I continually used, and it was of course
as repeatedly washed; yet every time, for a space of one year and
seven months, when first unfolded, I distinctly perceived the
odour. This appears an astonishing instance of the permanence of
some matter, which nevertheless in its nature must be most
subtile and volatile. Frequently, when passing at the distance of
half a mile to leeward of a herd, I have perceived the whole air
tainted with the effluvium. I believe the smell from the buck is
most powerful at the period when its horns are perfect, or free
from the hairy skin. When in this state the meat is, of course,
quite uneatable; but the Gauchos assert, that if buried for some
time in fresh earth, the taint is removed. I have somewhere read
that the islanders in the north of Scotland treat the rank
carcasses of the fish-eating birds in the same manner.

The order Rodentia is here very numerous in species: of mice
alone I obtained no less than eight kinds. (3/4. In South America
I collected altogether twenty-seven species of mice, and thirteen
more are known from the works of Azara and other authors. Those
collected by myself have been named and described by Mr.
Waterhouse at the meetings of the Zoological Society. I must be
allowed to take this opportunity of returning my cordial thanks
to Mr. Waterhouse, and to the other gentleman attached to that
Society, for their kind and most liberal assistance on all
occasions.) The largest gnawing animal in the world, the
Hydrochaerus capybara (the water-hog), is here also common. One
which I shot at Monte Video weighed ninety-eight pounds: its
length, from the end of the snout to the stump-like tail, was
three feet two inches; and its girth three feet eight. These
great Rodents occasionally frequent the islands in the mouth of
the Plata, where the water is quite salt, but are far more
abundant on the borders of fresh-water lakes and rivers. Near
Maldonado three or four generally live together. In the daytime
they either lie among the aquatic plants, or openly feed on the
turf plain. (3/5. In the stomach and duodenum of a capybara which
I opened, I found a very large quantity of a thin yellowish
fluid, in which scarcely a fibre could be distinguished. Mr. Owen
informs me that a part of the oesophagus is so constructed that
nothing much larger than a crowquill can be passed down.
Certainly the broad teeth and strong jaws of this animal are well
fitted to grind into pulp the aquatic plants on which it feeds.)
When viewed at a distance, from their manner of walking and
colour they resemble pigs: but when seated on their haunches, and
attentively watching any object with one eye, they reassume the
appearance of their congeners, cavies and rabbits. Both the front
and side view of their head has quite a ludicrous aspect, from
the great depth of their jaw. These animals, at Maldonado, were
very tame; by cautiously walking, I approached within three yards
of four old ones. This tameness may probably be accounted for, by
the Jaguar having been banished for some years, and by the Gaucho
not thinking it worth his while to hunt them. As I approached
nearer and nearer they frequently made their peculiar noise,
which is a low abrupt grunt, not having much actual sound, but
rather arising from the sudden expulsion of air: the only noise I
know at all like it, is the first hoarse bark of a large dog.
Having watched the four from almost within arm's length (and they
me) for several minutes, they rushed into the water at full
gallop with the greatest impetuosity, and emitted at the same
time their bark. After diving a short distance they came again to
the surface, but only just showed the upper part of their heads.
When the female is swimming in the water, and has young ones,
they are said to sit on her back. These animals are easily killed
in numbers; but their skins are of trifling value, and the meat
is very indifferent. On the islands in the Rio Parana they are
exceedingly abundant, and afford the ordinary prey to the Jaguar.

The Tucutuco (Ctenomys Brasiliensis) is a curious small animal,
which may be briefly described as a Gnawer, with the habits of a
mole. It is extremely numerous in some parts of the country, but
it is difficult to be procured, and never, I believe, comes out
of the ground. It throws up at the mouth of its burrows hillocks
of earth like those of the mole, but smaller. Considerable tracts
of country are so completely undermined by these animals that
horses, in passing over, sink above their fetlocks. The tucutucos
appear, to a certain degree, to be gregarious: the man who
procured the specimens for me had caught six together, and he
said this was a common occurrence. They are nocturnal in their
habits; and their principal food is the roots of plants, which
are the object of their extensive and superficial burrows. This
animal is universally known by a very peculiar noise which it
makes when beneath the ground. A person, the first time he hears
it, is much surprised; for it is not easy to tell whence it
comes, nor is it possible to guess what kind of creature utters
it. The noise consists in a short, but not rough, nasal grunt,
which is monotonously repeated about four times in quick
succession (3/6. At the R. Negro, in Northern Patagonia, there is
an animal of the same habits, and probably a closely allied
species, but which I never saw. Its noise is different from that
of the Maldonado kind; it is repeated only twice instead of three
or four times, and is more distinct and sonorous: when heard from
a distance it so closely resembles the sound made in cutting down
a small tree with an axe, that I have sometimes remained in doubt
concerning it.): the name Tucutuco is given in imitation of the
sound. Where this animal is abundant, it may be heard at all
times of the day, and sometimes directly beneath one's feet. When
kept in a room, the tucutucos move both slowly and clumsily,
which appears owing to the outward action of their hind legs; and
they are quite incapable, from the socket of the thigh-bone not
having a certain ligament, of jumping even the smallest vertical
height. They are very stupid in making any attempt to escape;
when angry or frightened they utter the tucu-tuco. Of those I
kept alive, several, even the first day, became quite tame, not
attempting to bite or to run away; others were a little wilder.

The man who caught them asserted that very many are invariably
found blind. A specimen which I preserved in spirits was in this
state; Mr. Reid considers it to be the effect of inflammation in
the nictitating membrane. When the animal was alive I placed my
finger within half an inch of its head, and not the slightest
notice was taken: it made its way, however, about the room nearly
as well as the others. Considering the strictly subterranean
habits of the tucu-tuco, the blindness, though so common, cannot
be a very serious evil; yet it appears strange that any animal
should possess an organ frequently subject to be injured. Lamarck
would have been delighted with this fact, had he known it, when
speculating (probably with more truth than usual with him) on the
gradually-ACQUIRED blindness of the Aspalax, a Gnawer living
under ground, and of the Proteus, a reptile living in dark
caverns filled with water; in both of which animals the eye is in
an almost rudimentary state, and is covered by a tendinous
membrane and skin. (3/7. "Philosoph. Zoolog." tome 1 page 242.)
In the common mole the eye is extraordinarily small but perfect,
though many anatomists doubt whether it is connected with the
true optic nerve; its vision must certainly be imperfect, though
probably useful to the animal when it leaves its burrow. In the
tucu-tuco, which I believe never comes to the surface of the
ground, the eye is rather larger, but often rendered blind and
useless, though without apparently causing any inconvenience to
the animal; no doubt Lamarck would have said that the tucu-tuco
is now passing into the state of the Aspalax and Proteus.

Birds of many kinds are extremely abundant on the undulating
grassy plains around Maldonado. There are several species of a
family allied in structure and manners to our Starling: one of
these (Molothrus niger) is remarkable from its habits. Several
may often be seen standing together on the back of a cow or
horse; and while perched on a hedge, pluming themselves in the
sun, they sometimes attempt to sing, or rather to hiss; the noise
being very peculiar, resembling that of bubbles of air passing
rapidly from a small orifice under water, so as to produce an
acute sound. According to Azara, this bird, like the cuckoo,
deposits its eggs in other birds' nests. I was several times told
by the country people that there certainly is some bird having
this habit; and my assistant in collecting, who is a very
accurate person, found a nest of the sparrow of this country
(Zonotrichia matutina), with one egg in it larger than the
others, and of a different colour and shape. In North America
there is another species of Molothrus (M. pecoris), which has a
similar cuckoo-like habit, and which is most closely allied in
every respect to the species from the Plata, even in such
trifling peculiarities as standing on the backs of cattle; it
differs only in being a little smaller, and in its plumage and
eggs being of a slightly different shade of colour. This close
agreement in structure and habits, in representative species
coming from opposite quarters of a great continent, always
strikes one as interesting, though of common occurrence.

Mr. Swainson has well remarked, that with the exception of the
Molothrus pecoris, to which must be added the M. niger, the
cuckoos are the only birds which can be called truly parasitical;
namely, such as "fasten themselves, as it were, on another living
animal, whose animal heat brings their young into life, whose
food they live upon, and whose death would cause theirs during
the period of infancy." (3/8. "Magazine of Zoology and Botany"
volume 1 page 217.) It is remarkable that some of the species,
but not all, both of the Cuckoo and Molothrus should agree in
this one strange habit of their parasitical propagation, whilst
opposed to each other in almost every other habit: the molothrus,
like our starling, is eminently sociable, and lives on the open
plains without art or disguise: the cuckoo, as every one knows,
is a singularly shy bird; it frequents the most retired thickets,
and feeds on fruit and caterpillars. In structure also these two
genera are widely removed from each other. Many theories, even
phrenological theories, have been advanced to explain the origin
of the cuckoo laying its eggs in other birds' nests. M. Prvost
alone, I think, has thrown light by his observations on this
puzzle: he finds that the female cuckoo, which, according to most
observers, lays at least from four to six eggs, must pair with
the male each time after laying only one or two eggs. (3/9. Read
before the Academy of Sciences in Paris. L'Institut 1834 page
418.) Now, if the cuckoo was obliged to sit on her own eggs, she
would either have to sit on all together, and therefore leave
those first laid so long, that they probably would become addled;
or she would have to hatch separately each egg or two eggs, as
soon as laid: but as the cuckoo stays a shorter time in this
country than any other migratory bird, she certainly would not
have time enough for the successive hatchings. Hence we can
perceive in the fact of the cuckoo pairing several times, and
laying her eggs at intervals, the cause of her depositing her
eggs in other birds' nests, and leaving them to the care of
foster-parents. I am strongly inclined to believe that this view
is correct, from having been independently led (as we shall
hereafter see) to an analogous conclusion with regard to the
South American ostrich, the females of which are parasitical, if
I may so express it, on each other; each female laying several
eggs in the nests of several other females, and the male ostrich
undertaking all the cares of incubation, like the strange
foster-parents with the cuckoo.

I will mention only two other birds, which are very common, and
render themselves prominent from their habits. The Saurophagus
sulphuratus is typical of the great American tribe of
tyrant-flycatchers. In its structure it closely approaches the
true shrikes, but in its habits may be compared to many birds. I
have frequently observed it, hunting a field, hovering over one
spot like a hawk, and then proceeding on to another. When seen
thus suspended in the air, it might very readily at a short
distance be mistaken for one of the Rapacious order; its stoop,
however, is very inferior in force and rapidity to that of a
hawk. At other times the Saurophagus haunts the neighbourhood of
water, and there, like a kingfisher, remaining stationary, it
catches any small fish which may come near the margin. These
birds are not unfrequently kept either in cages or in courtyards,
with their wings cut. They soon become tame, and are very amusing
from their cunning odd manners, which were described to me as
being similar to those of the common magpie. Their flight is
undulatory, for the weight of the head and bill appears too great
for the body. In the evening the Saurophagus takes its stand on a
bush, often by the roadside, and continually repeats without
change a shrill and rather agreeable cry, which somewhat
resembles articulate words: the Spaniards say it is like the
words "Bien te veo" (I see you well), and accordingly have given
it this name.

A mocking-bird (Mimus orpheus), called by the inhabitants
Calandria, is remarkable, from possessing a song far superior to
that of any other bird in the country: indeed, it is nearly the
only bird in South America which I have observed to take its
stand for the purpose of singing. The song may be compared to
that of the Sedge warbler, but is more powerful; some harsh notes
and some very high ones, being mingled with a pleasant warbling.
It is heard only during the spring. At other times its cry is
harsh and far from harmonious. Near Maldonado these birds were
tame and bold; they constantly attended the country houses in
numbers, to pick the meat which was hung up on the posts or
walls: if any other small bird joined the feast, the Calandria
soon chased it away. On the wide uninhabited plains of Patagonia
another closely allied species, O. Patagonica of d'Orbigny, which
frequents the valleys clothed with spiny bushes, is a wilder
bird, and has a slightly different tone of voice. It appears to
me a curious circumstance, as showing the fine shades of
difference in habits, that judging from this latter respect
alone, when I first saw this second species, I thought it was
different from the Maldonado kind. Having afterwards procured a
specimen, and comparing the two without particular care, they
appeared so very similar, that I changed my opinion; but now Mr.
Gould says that they are certainly distinct; a conclusion in
conformity with the trifling difference of habit, of which,
however, he was not aware.

The number, tameness, and disgusting habits of the
carrion-feeding hawks of South America make them pre-eminently
striking to any one accustomed only to the birds of Northern
Europe. In this list may be included four species of the Caracara
or Polyborus, the Turkey buzzard, the Gallinazo, and the Condor.
The Caracaras are, from their structure, placed among the eagles:
we shall soon see how ill they become so high a rank. In their
habits they well supply the place of our carrion-crows, magpies,
and ravens; a tribe of birds widely distributed over the rest of
the world, but entirely absent in South America. To begin with
the Polyborus Brasiliensis: this is a common bird, and has a wide
geographical range; it is most numerous on the grassy savannahs
of La Plata (where it goes by the name of Carrancha), and is far
from unfrequent throughout the sterile plains of Patagonia. In
the desert between the rivers Negro and Colorado, numbers
constantly attend the line of road to devour the carcasses of the
exhausted animals which chance to perish from fatigue and thirst.
Although thus common in these dry and open countries, and
likewise on the arid shores of the Pacific, it is nevertheless
found inhabiting the damp impervious forests of West Patagonia
and Tierra del Fuego. The Carranchas, together with the Chimango,
constantly attend in numbers the estancias and
slaughtering-houses. If an animal dies on the plain the Gallinazo
commences the feast, and then the two species of Polyborus pick
the bones clean. These birds, although thus commonly feeding
together, are far from being friends. When the Carrancha is
quietly seated on the branch of a tree or on the ground, the
Chimango often continues for a long time flying backwards and
forwards, up and down, in a semicircle, trying each time at the
bottom of the curve to strike its larger relative. The Carrancha
takes little notice, except by bobbing its head. Although the
Carranchas frequently assemble in numbers, they are not
gregarious; for in desert places they may be seen solitary, or
more commonly by pairs.

The Carranchas are said to be very crafty, and to steal great
numbers of eggs. They attempt, also, together with the Chimango,
to pick off the scabs from the sore backs of horses and mules.
The poor animal, on the one hand, with its ears down and its back
arched; and, on the other, the hovering bird, eyeing at the
distance of a yard the disgusting morsel, form a picture, which
has been described by Captain Head with his own peculiar spirit
and accuracy. These false eagles most rarely kill any living bird
or animal; and their vulture-like, necrophagous habits are very
evident to any one who has fallen asleep on the desolate plains
of Patagonia, for when he wakes, he will see, on each surrounding
hillock, one of these birds patiently watching him with an evil
eye: it is a feature in the landscape of these countries, which
will be recognised by every one who has wandered over them. If a
party of men go out hunting with dogs and horses, they will be
accompanied, during the day, by several of these attendants.
After feeding, the uncovered craw protrudes; at such times, and
indeed generally, the Carrancha is an inactive, tame, and
cowardly bird. Its flight is heavy and slow, like that of an
English rook. It seldom soars; but I have twice seen one at a
great height gliding through the air with much ease. It runs (in
contradistinction to hopping), but not quite so quickly as some
of its congeners. At times the Carrancha is noisy, but is not
generally so: its cry is loud, very harsh and peculiar, and may
be likened to the sound of the Spanish guttural g, followed by a
rough double r r; when uttering this cry it elevates its head
higher and higher, till at last, with its beak wide open, the
crown almost touches the lower part of the back. This fact, which
has been doubted, is quite true; I have seen them several times
with their heads backwards in a completely inverted position. To
these observations I may add, on the high authority of Azara,
that the Carrancha feeds on worms, shells, slugs, grasshoppers,
and frogs; that it destroys young lambs by tearing the umbilical
cord; and that it pursues the Gallinazo, till that bird is
compelled to vomit up the carrion it may have recently gorged.
Lastly, Azara states that several Carranchas, five or six
together, will unite in chase of large birds, even such as
herons. All these facts show that it is a bird of very versatile
habits and considerable ingenuity.

The Polyborus Chimango is considerably smaller than the last
species. It is truly omnivorous, and will eat even bread; and I
was assured that it materially injures the potato-crops in
Chiloe, by stocking up the roots when first planted. Of all the
carrion-feeders it is generally the last which leaves the
skeleton of a dead animal, and may often be seen within the ribs
of a cow or horse, like a bird in a cage. Another species is the
Polyborus Novae Zelandiae, which is exceedingly common in the
Falkland Islands. These birds in many respects resemble in their
habits the Carranchas. They live on the flesh of dead animals and
on marine productions; and on the Ramirez rocks their whole
sustenance must depend on the sea. They are extraordinarily tame
and fearless, and haunt the neighbourhood of houses for offal. If
a hunting party kills an animal, a number soon collect and
patiently await, standing on the ground on all sides. After
eating, their uncovered craws are largely protruded, giving them
a disgusting appearance. They readily attack wounded birds: a
cormorant in this state having taken to the shore, was
immediately seized on by several, and its death hastened by their
blows. The "Beagle" was at the Falklands only during the summer,
but the officers of the "Adventure," who were there in the
winter, mention many extraordinary instances of the boldness and
rapacity of these birds. They actually pounced on a dog that was
lying fast asleep close by one of the party; and the sportsmen
had difficulty in preventing the wounded geese from being seized
before their eyes. It is said that several together (in this
respect resembling the Carranchas) wait at the mouth of a
rabbit-hole, and together seize on the animal when it comes out.
They were constantly flying on board the vessel when in the
harbour; and it was necessary to keep a good look-out to prevent
the leather being torn from the rigging, and the meat or game
from the stern. These birds are very mischievous and inquisitive;
they will pick up almost anything from the ground; a large black
glazed hat was carried nearly a mile, as was a pair of the heavy
balls used in catching cattle. Mr. Usborne experienced during the
survey a more severe loss, in their stealing a small Kater's
compass in a red morocco leather case, which was never recovered.
These birds are, moreover, quarrelsome and very passionate;
tearing up the grass with their bills from rage. They are not
truly gregarious; they do not soar, and their flight is heavy and
clumsy; on the ground they run extremely fast, very much like
pheasants. They are noisy, uttering several harsh cries, one of
which is like that of the English rook, hence the sealers always
call them rooks. It is a curious circumstance that, when crying
out, they throw their heads upwards and backwards, after the same
manner as the Carrancha. They build in the rocky cliffs of the
sea-coast, but only on the small adjoining islets, and not on the
two main islands: this is a singular precaution in so tame and
fearless a bird. The sealers say that the flesh of these birds,
when cooked, is quite white, and very good eating; but bold must
the man be who attempts such a meal.

We have now only to mention the turkey-buzzard (Vultur aura), and
the Gallinazo. The former is found wherever the country is
moderately damp, from Cape Horn to North America. Differently
from the Polyborus Brasiliensis and Chimango, it has found its
way to the Falkland Islands. The turkey-buzzard is a solitary
bird, or at most goes in pairs. It may at once be recognised from
a long distance, by its lofty, soaring, and most elegant flight.
It is well known to be a true carrion-feeder. On the west coast
of Patagonia, among the thickly-wooded islets and broken land, it
lives exclusively on what the sea throws up, and on the carcasses
of dead seals. Wherever these animals are congregated on the
rocks, there the vultures may be seen. The Gallinazo (Cathartes
atratus) has a different range from the last species, as it never
occurs southward of latitude 41 degrees. Azara states that there
exists a tradition that these birds, at the time of the conquest,
were not found near Monte Video, but that they subsequently
followed the inhabitants from more northern districts. At the
present day they are numerous in the valley of the Colorado,
which is three hundred miles due south of Monte Video. It seems
probable that this additional migration has happened since the
time of Azara. The Gallinazo generally prefers a humid climate,
or rather the neighbourhood of fresh water; hence it is extremely
abundant in Brazil and La Plata, while it is never found on the
desert and arid plains of Northern Patagonia, excepting near some
stream. These birds frequent the whole Pampas to the foot of the
Cordillera, but I never saw or heard of one in Chile: in Peru
they are preserved as scavengers. These vultures certainly may be
called gregarious, for they seem to have pleasure in society, and
are not solely brought together by the attraction of a common
prey. On a fine day a flock may often be observed at a great
height, each bird wheeling round and round without closing its
wings, in the most graceful evolutions. This is clearly performed
for the mere pleasure of the exercise, or perhaps is connected
with their matrimonial alliances.

I have now mentioned all the carrion-feeders, excepting the
condor, an account of which will be more appropriately introduced
when we visit a country more congenial to its habits than the
plains of La Plata.

In a broad band of sand-hillocks which separate the Laguna del
Potrero from the shores of the Plata, at the distance of a few
miles from Maldonado, I found a group of those vitrified,
siliceous tubes, which are formed by lightning entering loose
sand. These tubes resemble in every particular those from Drigg
in Cumberland, described in the "Geological Transactions." (3/10.
"Geological Transactions" volume 2 page 528. In the
"Philosophical Transactions" 1790 page 294, Dr. Priestley has
described some imperfect siliceous tubes and a melted pebble of
quartz, found in digging into the ground, under a tree, where a
man had been killed by lightning.) The sand-hillocks of
Maldonado, not being protected by vegetation, are constantly
changing their position. From this cause the tubes projected
above the surface; and numerous fragments lying near, showed that
they had formerly been buried to a greater depth. Four sets
entered the sand perpendicularly: by working with my hands I
traced one of them two feet deep; and some fragments which
evidently had belonged to the same tube, when added to the other
part, measured five feet three inches. The diameter of the whole
tube was nearly equal, and therefore we must suppose that
originally it extended to a much greater depth. These dimensions
are however small, compared to those of the tubes from Drigg, one
of which was traced to a depth of not less than thirty feet.

The internal surface is completely vitrified, glossy, and smooth.
A small fragment examined under the microscope appeared, from the
number of minute entangled air or perhaps steam bubbles, like an
assay fused before the blowpipe. The sand is entirely, or in
greater part, siliceous; but some points are of a black colour,
and from their glossy surface possess a metallic lustre. The
thickness of the wall of the tube varies from a thirtieth to a
twentieth of an inch, and occasionally even equals a tenth. On
the outside the grains of sand are rounded, and have a slightly
glazed appearance: I could not distinguish any signs of
crystallisation. In a similar manner to that described in the
"Geological Transactions," the tubes are generally compressed,
and have deep longitudinal furrows, so as closely to resemble a
shrivelled vegetable stalk, or the bark of the elm or cork tree.
Their circumference is about two inches, but in some fragments,
which are cylindrical and without any furrows, it is as much as
four inches. The compression from the surrounding loose sand,
acting while the tube was still softened from the effects of the
intense heat, has evidently caused the creases or furrows.
Judging from the uncompressed fragments, the measure or bore of
the lightning (if such a term may be used) must have been about
one inch and a quarter. At Paris, M. Hachette and M. Beudant
succeeded in making tubes, in most respects similar to these
fulgurites, by passing very strong shocks of galvanism through
finely-powdered glass: when salt was added, so as to increase its
fusibility, the tubes were larger in every dimension. (3/11.
"Annales de Chimie et de Physique" tome 37 page 319.) They failed
both with powdered feldspar and quartz. One tube, formed with
pounded glass, was very nearly an inch long, namely .982, and had
an internal diameter of .019 of an inch. When we hear that the
strongest battery in Paris was used, and that its power on a
substance of such easy fusibility as glass was to form tubes so
diminutive, we must feel greatly astonished at the force of a
shock of lightning, which, striking the sand in several places,
has formed cylinders, in one instance of at least thirty feet
long, and having an internal bore, where not compressed, of full
an inch and a half; and this in a material so extraordinarily
refractory as quartz!

The tubes, as I have already remarked, enter the sand nearly in a
vertical direction. One, however, which was less regular than the
others, deviated from a right line, at the most considerable
bend, to the amount of thirty-three degrees. From this same tube,
two small branches, about a foot apart, were sent off; one
pointed downwards, and the other upwards. This latter case is
remarkable, as the electric fluid must have turned back at the
acute angle of 26 degrees, to the line of its main course.
Besides the four tubes which I found vertical, and traced beneath
the surface, there were several other groups of fragments, the
original sites of which without doubt were near. All occurred in
a level area of shifting sand, sixty yards by twenty, situated
among some high sand-hillocks, and at the distance of about half
a mile from a chain of hills four or five hundred feet in height.
The most remarkable circumstance, as it appears to me, in this
case as well as in that of Drigg, and in one described by M.
Ribbentrop in Germany, is the number of tubes found within such
limited spaces. At Drigg, within an area of fifteen yards, three
were observed, and the same number occurred in Germany. In the
case which I have described, certainly more than four existed
within the space of the sixty by twenty yards. As it does not
appear probable that the tubes are produced by successive
distinct shocks, we must believe that the lightning, shortly
before entering the ground, divides itself into separate
branches.

The neighbourhood of the Rio Plata seems peculiarly subject to
electric phenomena. In the year 1793, one of the most destructive
thunderstorms perhaps on record happened at Buenos Ayres:
thirty-seven places within the city were struck by lightning, and
nineteen people killed. (3/12. Azara's "Voyage" volume 1 page
36.) From facts stated in several books of travels, I am inclined
to suspect that thunderstorms are very common near the mouths of
great rivers. Is it not possible that the mixture of large bodies
of fresh and salt water may disturb the electrical equilibrium?
Even during our occasional visits to this part of South America,
we heard of a ship, two churches, and a house having been struck.
Both the church and the house I saw shortly afterwards: the house
belonged to Mr. Hood, the consul-general at Monte Video. Some of
the effects were curious: the paper, for nearly a foot on each
side of the line where the bell-wires had run, was blackened. The
metal had been fused, and although the room was about fifteen
feet high, the globules, dropping on the chairs and furniture,
had drilled in them a chain of minute holes. A part of the wall
was shattered as if by gunpowder, and the fragments had been
blown off with force sufficient to dent the wall on the opposite
side of the room. The frame of a looking-glass was blackened, and
the gilding must have been volatilised, for a smelling-bottle,
which stood on the chimney-piece, was coated with bright metallic
particles, which adhered as firmly as if they had been enamelled.

(PLATE 17.  HALT AT A PULPERIA ON THE PAMPAS.)


CHAPTER IV.

(PLATE 18.  EL CARMEN, OR PATAGONES, RIO NEGRO.)

Rio Negro.
Estancias attacked by the Indians.
Salt Lakes.
Flamingoes.
R. Negro to R. Colorado.
Sacred Tree.
Patagonian Hare.
Indian Families.
General Rosas.
Proceed to Bahia Blanca.
Sand Dunes.
Negro Lieutenant.
Bahia Blanca.
Saline Incrustations.
Punta Alta.
Zorillo.

RIO NEGRO TO BAHIA BLANCA.

JULY 24, 1833.

The "Beagle" sailed from Maldonado, and on August the 3rd she
arrived off the mouth of the Rio Negro. This is the principal
river on the whole line of coast between the Strait of Magellan
and the Plata. It enters the sea about three hundred miles south
of the estuary of the Plata. About fifty years ago, under the old
Spanish government, a small colony was established here; and it
is still the most southern position (latitude 41 degrees) on this
eastern coast of America inhabited by civilised man.

The country near the mouth of the river is wretched in the
extreme: on the south side a long line of perpendicular cliffs
commences, which exposes a section of the geological nature of
the country. The strata are of sandstone, and one layer was
remarkable from being composed of a firmly-cemented conglomerate
of pumice pebbles, which must have travelled more than four
hundred miles, from the Andes. The surface is everywhere covered
up by a thick bed of gravel, which extends far and wide over the
open plain. Water is extremely scarce, and, where found, is
almost invariably brackish. The vegetation is scanty; and
although there are bushes of many kinds, all are armed with
formidable thorns, which seem to warn the stranger not to enter
on these inhospitable regions.

The settlement is situated eighteen miles up the river. The road
follows the foot of the sloping cliff, which forms the northern
boundary of the great valley in which the Rio Negro flows. On the
way we passed the ruins of some fine estancias, which a few years
since had been destroyed by the Indians. They withstood several
attacks. A man present at one gave me a very lively description
of what took place. The inhabitants had sufficient notice to
drive all the cattle and horses into the corral which surrounded
the house, and likewise to mount some small cannon. (4/1. The
corral is an enclosure made of tall and strong stakes. Every
estancia, or farming estate, has one attached to it.)

The Indians were Araucanians from the south of Chile; several
hundreds in number, and highly disciplined. They first appeared
in two bodies on a neighbouring hill; having there dismounted,
and taken off their fur mantles, they advanced naked to the
charge. The only weapon of an Indian is a very long bamboo or
chuzo, ornamented with ostrich feathers, and pointed by a sharp
spear-head. My informer seemed to remember with the greatest
horror the quivering of these chuzos as they approached near.
When close, the cacique Pincheira hailed the besieged to give up
their arms, or he would cut all their throats. As this would
probably have been the result of their entrance under any
circumstances, the answer was given by a volley of musketry. The
Indians, with great steadiness, came to the very fence of the
corral: but to their surprise they found the posts fastened
together by iron nails instead of leather thongs, and, of course,
in vain attempted to cut them with their knives. This saved the
lives of the Christians: many of the wounded Indians were carried
away by their companions, and at last, one of the under caciques
being wounded, the bugle sounded a retreat. They retired to their
horses, and seemed to hold a council of war. This was an awful
pause for the Spaniards, as all their ammunition, with the
exception of a few cartridges, was expended. In an instant the
Indians mounted their horses, and galloped out of sight. Another
attack was still more quickly repulsed. A cool Frenchman managed
the gun; he stopped till the Indians approached close, and then
raked their line with grape-shot: he thus laid thirty-nine of
them on the ground; and, of course, such a blow immediately
routed the whole party.

The town is indifferently called El Carmen or Patagones. It is
built on the face of a cliff which fronts the river, and many of
the houses are excavated even in the sandstone. The river is
about two or three hundred yards wide, and is deep and rapid. The
many islands, with their willow-trees, and the flat headlands,
seen one behind the other on the northern boundary of the broad
green valley, form, by the aid of a bright sun, a view almost
picturesque. The number of inhabitants does not exceed a few
hundreds. These Spanish colonies do not, like our British ones,
carry within themselves the elements of growth. Many Indians of
pure blood reside here: the tribe of the Cacique Lucanee
constantly have their Toldos on the outskirts of the town. (4/2.
The hovels of the Indians are thus called.) The local government
partly supplies them with provisions, by giving them all the old
worn-out horses, and they earn a little by making horse-rugs and
other articles of riding-gear. These Indians are considered
civilised; but what their character may have gained by a lesser
degree of ferocity, is almost counterbalanced by their entire
immorality. Some of the younger men are, however, improving; they
are willing to labour, and a short time since a party went on a
sealing-voyage, and behaved very well. They were now enjoying the
fruits of their labour, by being dressed in very gay, clean
clothes, and by being very idle. The taste they showed in their
dress was admirable; if you could have turned one of these young
Indians into a statue of bronze, his drapery would have been
perfectly graceful.

One day I rode to a large salt-lake, or Salina, which is distant
fifteen miles from the town. During the winter it consists of a
shallow lake of brine, which in summer is converted into a field
of snow-white salt. The layer near the margin is from four to
five inches thick, but towards the centre its thickness
increases. This lake was two and a half miles long, and one
broad. Others occur in the neighbourhood many times larger, and
with a floor of salt, two and three feet in thickness, even when
under water during the winter. One of these brilliantly white and
level expanses, in the midst of the brown and desolate plain,
offers an extraordinary spectacle. A large quantity of salt is
annually drawn from the salina: and great piles, some hundred
tons in weight, were lying ready for exportation. 

The season for working the salinas forms the harvest of
Patagones; for on it the prosperity of the place depends. Nearly
the whole population encamps on the bank of the river, and the
people are employed in drawing out the salt in bullock-waggons.
This salt is crystallised in great cubes, and is remarkably pure:
Mr. Trenham Reeks has kindly analysed some for me, and he finds
in it only 0.26 of gypsum and 0.22 of earthy matter. It is a
singular fact that it does not serve so well for preserving meat
as sea-salt from the Cape de Verd islands; and a merchant at
Buenos Ayres told me that he considered it as fifty per cent less
valuable. Hence the Cape de Verd salt is constantly imported, and
is mixed with that from these salinas. The purity of the
Patagonian salt, or absence from it of those other saline bodies
found in all sea-water, is the only assignable cause for this
inferiority: a conclusion which no one, I think, would have
suspected, but which is supported by the fact lately ascertained,
that those salts answer best for preserving cheese which contain
most of the deliquescent chlorides. (4/3. Report of the
Agricultural Chemistry Association in the "Agricultural Gazette"
1845 page 93.)

The border of the lake is formed of mud: and in this numerous
large crystals of gypsum, some of which are three inches long,
lie embedded; whilst on the surface others of sulphate of soda
lie scattered about. The Gauchos call the former the "Padre del
sal," and the latter the "Madre;" they state that these
progenitive salts always occur on the borders of the salinas,
when the water begins to evaporate. The mud is black, and has a
fetid odour. I could not at first imagine the cause of this, but
I afterwards perceived that the froth which the wind drifted on
shore was coloured green, as if by confervae; I attempted to
carry home some of this green matter, but from an accident
failed. Parts of the lake seen from a short distance appeared of
a reddish colour, and this perhaps was owing to some infusorial
animalcula. The mud in many places was thrown up by numbers of
some kind of worm, or annelidous animal. How surprising it is
that any creatures should be able to exist in brine, and that
they should be crawling among crystals of sulphate of soda and
lime! And what becomes of these worms when, during the long
summer, the surface is hardened into a solid layer of salt?

Flamingoes in considerable numbers inhabit this lake, and breed
here, throughout Patagonia, in Northern Chile, and at the
Galapagos Islands, I met with these birds wherever there were
lakes of brine. I saw them here wading about in search of
food--probably for the worms which burrow in the mud; and these
latter probably feed on infusoria or confervae. Thus we have a
little living world within itself, adapted to these inland lakes
of brine. A minute crustaceous animal (Cancer salinus) is said to
live in countless numbers in the brine-pans at Lymington: but
only in those in which the fluid has attained, from evaporation,
considerable strength--namely, about a quarter of a pound of salt
to a pint of water. (4/4. "Linnaean Transactions" volume 11 page
205. It is remarkable how all the circumstances connected with
the salt-lakes in Siberia and Patagonia are similar. Siberia,
like Patagonia, appears to have been recently elevated above the
waters of the sea. In both countries the salt-lakes occupy
shallow depressions in the plains; in both the mud on the borders
is black and fetid; beneath the crust of common salt, sulphate of
soda or of magnesia occurs, imperfectly crystallised; and in
both, the muddy sand is mixed with lentils of gypsum. The
Siberian salt-lakes are inhabited by small crustaceous animals;
and flamingoes ("Edinburgh New Philosical Journal" January 1830)
likewise frequent them. As these circumstances, apparently so
trifling, occur in two distant continents, we may feel sure that
they are the necessary results of common causes.--See "Pallas's
Travels" 1793 to 1794 pages 129 to 134.) Well may we affirm that
every part of the world is habitable! Whether lakes of brine, or
those subterranean ones hidden beneath volcanic mountains--warm
mineral springs--the wide expanse and depths of the ocean--the
upper regions of the atmosphere, and even the surface of
perpetual snow--all support organic beings.

To the northward of the Rio Negro, between it and the inhabited
country near Buenos Ayres, the Spaniards have only one small
settlement, recently established at Bahia Blanca. The distance in
a straight line to Buenos Ayres is very nearly five hundred
British miles. The wandering tribes of horse Indians, which have
always occupied the greater part of this country, having of late
much harassed the outlying estancias, the government at Buenos
Ayres equipped some time since an army under the command of
General Rosas for the purpose of exterminating them. The troops
were now encamped on the banks of the Colorado; a river lying
about eighty miles northward of the Rio Negro. When General Rosas
left Buenos Ayres he struck in a direct line across the
unexplored plains: and as the country was thus pretty well
cleared of Indians, he left behind him, at wide intervals, a
small party of soldiers with a troop of horses (a posta), so as
to be enabled to keep up a communication with the capital. As the
"Beagle" intended to call at Bahia Blanca, I determined to
proceed there by land; and ultimately I extended my plan to
travel the whole way by the postas to Buenos Ayres.

AUGUST 11, 1833.

Mr. Harris, an Englishman residing at Patagones, a guide, and
five Gauchos who were proceeding to the army on business, were my
companions on the journey. The Colorado, as I have already said,
is nearly eighty miles distant: and as we travelled slowly, we
were two days and a half on the road. The whole line of country
deserves scarcely a better name than that of a desert. Water is
found only in two small wells; it is called fresh; but even at
this time of the year, during the rainy season, it was quite
brackish. In the summer this must be a distressing passage; for
now it was sufficiently desolate.

The valley of the Rio Negro, broad as it is, has merely been
excavated out of the sandstone plain; for immediately above the
bank on which the town stands, a level country commences, which
is interrupted only by a few trifling valleys and depressions.
Everywhere the landscape wears the same sterile aspect; a dry
gravelly soil supports tufts of brown withered grass, and low
scattered bushes, armed with thorns.

Shortly after passing the first spring we came in sight of a
famous tree, which the Indians reverence as the altar of
Walleechu. It is situated on a high part of the plain; and hence
is a landmark visible at a great distance. As soon as a tribe of
Indians come in sight of it, they offer their adorations by loud
shouts. The tree itself is low, much branched, and thorny: just
above the root it has a diameter of about three feet. It stands
by itself without any neighbour, and was indeed the first tree we
saw; afterwards we met with a few others of the same kind, but
they were far from common. Being winter the tree had no leaves,
but in their place numberless threads, by which the various
offerings, such as cigars, bread, meat, pieces of cloth, etc.,
had been suspended. Poor Indians, not having anything better,
only pull a thread out of their ponchos, and fasten it to the
tree. Richer Indians are accustomed to pour spirits and mate into
a certain hole, and likewise to smoke upwards, thinking thus to
afford all possible gratification to Walleechu. To complete the
scene, the tree was surrounded by the bleached bones of horses
which had been slaughtered as sacrifices. All Indians of every
age and sex make their offerings; they then think that their
horses will not tire, and that they themselves shall be
prosperous. The Gaucho who told me this, said that in the time of
peace he had witnessed this scene, and that he and others used to
wait till the Indians had passed by, for the sake of stealing
from Walleechu the offerings.

The Gauchos think that the Indians consider the tree as the god
itself; but it seems far more probable that they regard it as the
altar. The only cause which I can imagine for this choice, is its
being a landmark in a dangerous passage. The Sierra de la Ventana
is visible at an immense distance; and a Gaucho told me that he
was once riding with an Indian a few miles to the north of the
Rio Colorado, when the Indian commenced making the same loud
noise, which is usual at the first sight of the distant tree,
putting his hand to his head, and then pointing in the direction
of the Sierra. Upon being asked the reason of this, the Indian
said in broken Spanish, "First see the Sierra."

About two leagues beyond this curious tree we halted for the
night: at this instant an unfortunate cow was spied by the
lynx-eyed Gauchos, who set off in full chase, and in a few
minutes dragged her in with their lazos, and slaughtered her. We
here had the four necessaries of life "en el campo,"--pasture for
the horses, water (only a muddy puddle), meat and firewood. The
Gauchos were in high spirits at finding all these luxuries; and
we soon set to work at the poor cow. This was the first night
which I passed under the open sky, with the gear of the recado
for my bed. There is high enjoyment in the independence of the
Gaucho life--to be able at any moment to pull up your horse, and
say, "Here we will pass the night." The deathlike stillness of
the plain, the dogs keeping watch, the gipsy-group of Gauchos
making their beds round the fire, have left in my mind a
strongly-marked picture of this first night, which will never be
forgotten.

The next day the country continued similar to that above
described. It is inhabited by few birds or animals of any kind.
Occasionally a deer, or a Guanaco (wild Llama) may be seen; but
the Agouti (Cavia Patagonica) is the commonest quadruped. This
animal here represents our hares. It differs, however, from that
genus in many essential respects; for instance, it has only three
toes behind. It is also nearly twice the size, weighing from
twenty to twenty-five pounds. The Agouti is a true friend of the
desert; it is a common feature of the landscape to see two or
three hopping quickly one after the other in a straight line
across these wild plains. They are found as far north as the
Sierra Tapalguen (latitude 37 degrees 30'), where the plain
rather suddenly becomes greener and more humid; and their
southern limit is between Port Desire and St. Julian, where there
is no change in the nature of the country.

It is a singular fact, that although the Agouti is not now found
as far south as Port St. Julian, yet that Captain Wood, in his
voyage in 1670, talks of them as being numerous there. What cause
can have altered, in a wide, uninhabited, and rarely-visited
country, the range of an animal like this? It appears also, from
the number shot by Captain Wood in one day at Port Desire, that
they must have been considerably more abundant there formerly
than at present. Where the Bizcacha lives and makes its burrows,
the Agouti uses them; but where, as at Bahia Blanca, the Bizcacha
is not found, the Agouti burrows for itself. The same thing
occurs with the little owl of the Pampas (Athene cunicularia),
which has so often been described as standing like a sentinel at
the mouth of the burrows; for in Banda Oriental, owing to the
absence of the Bizcacha, it is obliged to hollow out its own
habitation.

The next morning, as we approached the Rio Colorado, the
appearance of the country changed; we soon came on a plain
covered with turf, which, from its flowers, tall clover, and
little owls, resembled the Pampas. We passed also a muddy swamp
of considerable extent, which in summer dries, and becomes
incrusted with various salts; and hence is called a salitral. It
was covered by low succulent plants, of the same kind with those
growing on the sea-shore. The Colorado, at the pass where we
crossed it, is only about sixty yards wide; generally it must be
nearly double that width. Its course is very tortuous, being
marked by willow-trees and beds of reeds: in a direct line the
distance to the mouth of the river is said to be nine leagues,
but by water twenty-five. We were delayed crossing in the canoe
by some immense troops of mares, which were swimming the river in
order to follow a division of troops into the interior. A more
ludicrous spectacle I never beheld than the hundreds and hundreds
of heads, all directed one way, with pointed ears and distended
snorting nostrils, appearing just above the water like a great
shoal of some amphibious animal. Mare's flesh is the only food
which the soldiers have when on an expedition. This gives them a
great facility of movement; for the distance to which horses can
be driven over these plains is quite surprising: I have been
assured that an unloaded horse can travel a hundred miles a day
for many days successively.

The encampment of General Rosas was close to the river. It
consisted of a square formed by waggons, artillery, straw huts,
etc. The soldiers were nearly all cavalry; and I should think
such a villainous, banditti-like army was never before collected
together. The greater number of men were of a mixed breed,
between Negro, Indian, and Spaniard. I know not the reason, but
men of such origin seldom have a good expression of countenance.
I called on the Secretary to show my passport. He began to
cross-question me in the most dignified and mysterious manner. By
good luck I had a letter of recommendation from the government of
Buenos Ayres to the commandant of Patagones. (4/5. I am bound to
express, in the strongest terms, my obligation to the government
of Buenos Ayres for the obliging manner in which passports to all
parts of the country were given me, as naturalist of the
"Beagle.") This was taken to General Rosas, who sent me a very
obliging message; and the Secretary returned all smiles and
graciousness. We took up our residence in the rancho, or hovel,
of a curious old Spaniard, who had served with Napoleon in the
expedition against Russia.

We stayed two days at the Colorado; I had little to do, for the
surrounding country was a swamp, which in summer (December), when
the snow melts on the Cordillera, is overflowed by the river. My
chief amusement was watching the Indian families as they came to
buy little articles at the rancho where we stayed. It was
supposed that General Rosas had about six hundred Indian allies.
The men were a tall, fine race, yet it was afterwards easy to see
in the Fuegian savage the same countenance rendered hideous by
cold, want of food, and less civilisation.

Some authors, in defining the primary races of mankind, have
separated these Indians into two classes; but this is certainly
incorrect. Among the young women or chinas, some deserve to be
called even beautiful. Their hair was coarse, but bright and
black; and they wore it in two plaits hanging down to the waist.
They had a high colour, and eyes that glistened with brilliancy;
their legs, feet, and arms were small and elegantly formed; their
ankles, and sometimes their waists, were ornamented by broad
bracelets of blue beads. Nothing could be more interesting than
some of the family groups. A mother with one or two daughters
would often come to our rancho, mounted on the same horse. They
ride like men, but with their knees tucked up much higher. This
habit, perhaps, arises from their being accustomed, when
travelling, to ride the loaded horses. The duty of the women is
to load and unload the horses; to make the tents for the night;
in short to be, like the wives of all savages, useful slaves. The
men fight, hunt, take care of the horses, and make the riding
gear. One of their chief indoor occupations is to knock two
stones together till they become round, in order to make the
bolas. With this important weapon the Indian catches his game,
and also his horse, which roams free over the plain. In fighting,
his first attempt is to throw down the horse of his adversary
with the bolas, and when entangled by the fall to kill him with
the chuzo. If the balls only catch the neck or body of an animal,
they are often carried away and lost. As the making the stones
round is the labour of two days, the manufacture of the balls is
a very common employment. Several of the men and women had their
faces painted red, but I never saw the horizontal bands which are
so common among the Fuegians. Their chief pride consists in
having everything made of silver; I have seen a cacique with his
spurs, stirrups, handle of his knife, and bridle made of this
metal: the head-stall and reins being of wire, were not thicker
than whipcord; and to see a fiery steed wheeling about under the
command of so light a chain, gave to the horsemanship a
remarkable character of elegance.

(PLATE 19.  BRAZILIAN WHIPS, HOBBLES, AND SPURS.)

General Rosas intimated a wish to see me; a circumstance which I
was afterwards very glad of. He is a man of an extraordinary
character, and has a most predominant influence in the country,
which it seems probable he will use to its prosperity and
advancement. (4/6. This prophecy has turned out entirely and
miserably wrong. 1845.) He is said to be the owner of
seventy-four square leagues of land, and to have about three
hundred thousand head of cattle. His estates are admirably
managed, and are far more productive of corn than those of
others. He first gained his celebrity by his laws for his own
estancias, and by disciplining several hundred men, so as to
resist with success the attacks of the Indians. There are many
stories current about the rigid manner in which his laws were
enforced. One of these was, that no man, on penalty of being put
into the stocks, should carry his knife on a Sunday: this being
the principal day for gambling and drinking, many quarrels arose,
which from the general manner of fighting with the knife often
proved fatal.

One Sunday the Governor came in great form to pay the estancia a
visit, and General Rosas, in his hurry, walked out to receive him
with his knife, as usual, stuck in his belt. The steward touched
his arm, and reminded him of the law; upon which turning to the
Governor, he said he was extremely sorry, but that he must go
into the stocks, and that till let out, he possessed no power
even in his own house. After a little time the steward was
persuaded to open the stocks, and to let him out, but no sooner
was this done, than he turned to the steward and said, "You now
have broken the laws, so you must take my place in the stocks."
Such actions as these delighted the Gauchos, who all possess high
notions of their own equality and dignity.

General Rosas is also a perfect horseman--an accomplishment of no
small consequence in a country where an assembled army elected
its general by the following trial: A troop of unbroken horses
being driven into a corral, were let out through a gateway, above
which was a cross-bar: it was agreed whoever should drop from the
bar on one of these wild animals, as it rushed out, and should be
able, without saddle or bridle, not only to ride it, but also to
bring it back to the door of the corral, should be their general.
The person who succeeded was accordingly elected; and doubtless
made a fit general for such an army. This extraordinary feat has
also been performed by Rosas.

By these means, and by conforming to the dress and habits of the
Gauchos, he has obtained an unbounded popularity in the country,
and in consequence a despotic power. I was assured by an English
merchant, that a man who had murdered another, when arrested and
questioned concerning his motive, answered, "He spoke
disrespectfully of General Rosas, so I killed him." At the end of
a week the murderer was at liberty. This doubtless was the act of
the general's party, and not of the general himself.

In conversation he is enthusiastic, sensible, and very grave. His
gravity is carried to a high pitch: I heard one of his mad
buffoons (for he keeps two, like the barons of old) relate the
following anecdote. "I wanted very much to hear a certain piece
of music, so I went to the general two or three times to ask him;
he said to me, 'Go about your business, for I am engaged.' I went
a second time; he said, 'If you come again I will punish you.' A
third time I asked, and he laughed. I rushed out of the tent, but
it was too late--he ordered two soldiers to catch and stake me. I
begged by all the saints in heaven he would let me off; but it
would not do,--when the general laughs he spares neither mad man
nor sound." The poor flighty gentleman looked quite dolorous, at
the very recollection of the staking. This is a very severe
punishment; four posts are driven into the ground, and the man is
extended by his arms and legs horizontally, and there left to
stretch for several hours. The idea is evidently taken from the
usual method of drying hides. My interview passed away without a
smile, and I obtained a passport and order for the government
post-horses, and this he gave me in the most obliging and ready
manner.

In the morning we started for Bahia Blanca, which we reached in
two days. Leaving the regular encampment, we passed by the toldos
of the Indians. These are round like ovens, and covered with
hides; by the mouth of each, a tapering chuzo was stuck in the
ground. The toldos were divided into separate groups, which
belonged to the different caciques' tribes, and the groups were
again divided into smaller ones, according to the relationship of
the owners. For several miles we travelled along the valley of
the Colorado. The alluvial plains on the side appeared fertile,
and it is supposed that they are well adapted to the growth of
corn.

Turning northward from the river, we soon entered on a country,
differing from the plains south of the river. The land still
continued dry and sterile: but it supported many different kinds
of plants, and the grass, though brown and withered, was more
abundant, as the thorny bushes were less so. These latter in a
short space entirely disappeared, and the plains were left
without a thicket to cover their nakedness. This change in the
vegetation marks the commencement of the grand
calcareo-argillaceous deposit, which forms the wide extent of the
Pampas, and covers the granitic rocks of Banda Oriental. From the
Strait of Magellan to the Colorado, a distance of about eight
hundred miles, the face of the country is everywhere composed of
shingle: the pebbles are chiefly of porphyry, and probably owe
their origin to the rocks of the Cordillera. North of the
Colorado this bed thins out, and the pebbles become exceedingly
small, and here the characteristic vegetation of Patagonia
ceases.

Having ridden about twenty-five miles, we came to a broad belt of
sand-dunes, which stretches, as far as the eye can reach, to the
east and west. The sand-hillocks resting on the clay, allow small
pools of water to collect, and thus afford in this dry country an
invaluable supply of fresh water. The great advantage arising
from depressions and elevations of the soil, is not often brought
home to the mind. The two miserable springs in the long passage
between the Rio Negro and Colorado were caused by trifling
inequalities in the plain, without them not a drop of water would
have been found. The belt of sand-dunes is about eight miles
wide; at some former period, it probably formed the margin of a
grand estuary, where the Colorado now flows. In this district,
where absolute proofs of the recent elevation of the land occur,
such speculations can hardly be neglected by any one, although
merely considering the physical geography of the country. Having
crossed the sandy tract, we arrived in the evening at one of the
post-houses; and, as the fresh horses were grazing at a distance
we determined to pass the night there.

The house was situated at the base of a ridge between one and two
hundred feet high--a most remarkable feature in this country.
This posta was commanded by a negro lieutenant, born in Africa:
to his credit be it said, there was not a ranche between the
Colorado and Buenos Ayres in nearly such neat order as his. He
had a little room for strangers, and a small corral for the
horses, all made of sticks and reeds; he had also dug a ditch
round his house as a defence in case of being attacked. This
would, however, have been of little avail, if the Indians had
come; but his chief comfort seemed to rest in the thought of
selling his life dearly. A short time before, a body of Indians
had travelled past in the night; if they had been aware of the
posta, our black friend and his four soldiers would assuredly
have been slaughtered. I did not anywhere meet a more civil and
obliging man than this negro; it was therefore the more painful
to see that he would not sit down and eat with us.

In the morning we sent for the horses very early, and started for
another exhilarating gallop. We passed the Cabeza del Buey, an
old name given to the head of a large marsh, which extends from
Bahia Blanca. Here we changed horses, and passed through some
leagues of swamps and saline marshes. Changing horses for the
last time, we again began wading through the mud. My animal fell,
and I was well soused in black mire--a very disagreeable
accident, when one does not possess a change of clothes. Some
miles from the fort we met a man, who told us that a great gun
had been fired, which is a signal that Indians are near. We
immediately left the road, and followed the edge of a marsh,
which when chased offers the best mode of escape. We were glad to
arrive within the walls, when we found all the alarm was about
nothing, for the Indians turned out to be friendly ones, who
wished to join General Rosas.

Bahia Blanca scarcely deserves the name of a village. A few
houses and the barracks for the troops are enclosed by a deep
ditch and fortified wall. The settlement is only of recent
standing (since 1828); and its growth has been one of trouble.
The government of Buenos Ayres unjustly occupied it by force,
instead of following the wise example of the Spanish Viceroys,
who purchased the land near the older settlement of the Rio
Negro, from the Indians. Hence the need of the fortifications;
hence the few houses and little cultivated land without the
limits of the walls; even the cattle are not safe from the
attacks of the Indians beyond the boundaries of the plain on
which the fortress stands.

The part of the harbour where the "Beagle" intended to anchor
being distant twenty-five miles, I obtained from the Commandant a
guide and horses, to take me to see whether she had arrived.
Leaving the plain of green turf, which extended along the course
of a little brook, we soon entered on a wide level waste
consisting either of sand, saline marshes, or bare mud. Some
parts were clothed by low thickets, and others with those
succulent plants which luxuriate only where salt abounds. Bad as
the country was, ostriches, deers, agoutis, and armadilloes, were
abundant. My guide told me, that two months before he had a most
narrow escape of his life: he was out hunting with two other men,
at no great distance from this part of the country, when they
were suddenly met by a party of Indians, who giving chase, soon
overtook and killed his two friends. His own horse's legs were
also caught by the bolas, but he jumped off, and with his knife
cut them free: while doing this he was obliged to dodge round his
horse, and received two severe wounds from their chuzos.
Springing on the saddle, he managed, by a most wonderful
exertion, just to keep ahead of the long spears of his pursuers,
who followed him to within sight of the fort. From that time
there was an order that no one should stray far from the
settlement. I did not know of this when I started, and was
surprised to observe how earnestly my guide watched a deer, which
appeared to have been frightened from a distant quarter.

We found the "Beagle" had not arrived, and consequently set out
on our return, but the horses soon tiring, we were obliged to
bivouac on the plain. In the morning we had caught an armadillo,
which, although a most excellent dish when roasted in its shell,
did not make a very substantial breakfast and dinner for two
hungry men. The ground at the place where we stopped for the
night was incrusted with a layer of sulphate of soda, and hence,
of course, was without water. Yet many of the smaller rodents
managed to exist even here, and the tucutuco was making its odd
little grunt beneath my head, during half the night. Our horses
were very poor ones, and in the morning they were soon exhausted
from not having had anything to drink, so that we were obliged to
walk. About noon the dogs killed a kid, which we roasted. I ate
some of it, but it made me intolerably thirsty. This was the more
distressing as the road, from some recent rain, was full of
little puddles of clear water, yet not a drop was drinkable. I
had scarcely been twenty hours without water, and only part of
the time under a hot sun, yet the thirst rendered me very weak.
How people survive two or three days under such circumstances, I
cannot imagine: at the same time, I must confess that my guide
did not suffer at all, and was astonished that one day's
deprivation should be so troublesome to me.

I have several times alluded to the surface of the ground being
incrusted with salt. This phenomenon is quite different from that
of the salinas, and more extraordinary. In many parts of South
America, wherever the climate is moderately dry, these
incrustations occur; but I have nowhere seen them so abundant as
near Bahia Blanca. The salt here, and in other parts of
Patagonia, consists chiefly of sulphate of soda with some common
salt. As long as the ground remains moist in the salitrales (as
the Spaniards improperly call them, mistaking this substance for
saltpetre), nothing is to be seen but an extensive plain composed
of a black, muddy soil, supporting scattered tufts of succulent
plants. On returning through one of these tracts, after a week's
hot weather, one is surprised to see square miles of the plain
white, as if from a slight fall of snow, here and there heaped up
by the wind into little drifts. This latter appearance is chiefly
caused by the salts being drawn up, during the slow evaporation
of the moisture, round blades of dead grass, stumps of wood, and
pieces of broken earth, instead of being crystallised at the
bottoms of the puddles of water.

The salitrales occur either on level tracts elevated only a few
feet above the level of the sea, or on alluvial land bordering
rivers. M. Parchappe found that the saline incrustation on the
plain, at the distance of some miles from the sea, consisted
chiefly of sulphate of soda, with only seven per cent of common
salt; whilst nearer to the coast, the common salt increased to 37
parts in a hundred. (4/7. "Voyage dans l'Amerique Merid." par M.
A. d'Orbigny. Part. Hist. tome 1 page 664.) This circumstance
would tempt one to believe that the sulphate of soda is generated
in the soil, from the muriate left on the surface during the slow
and recent elevation of this dry country. The whole phenomenon is
well worthy the attention of naturalists. Have the succulent,
salt-loving plants, which are well known to contain much soda,
the power of decomposing the muriate? Does the black fetid mud,
abounding with organic matter, yield the sulphur and ultimately
the sulphuric acid?

Two days afterwards I again rode to the harbour: when not far
from our destination, my companion, the same man as before, spied
three people hunting on horseback. He immediately dismounted, and
watching them intently, said, "They don't ride like Christians,
and nobody can leave the fort." The three hunters joined company,
and likewise dismounted from their horses. At last one mounted
again and rode over the hill out of sight. My companion said, "We
must now get on our horses: load your pistol;" and he looked to
his own sword. I asked, "Are they Indians?"--"Quien sabe? (who
knows?) if there are no more than three, it does not signify." It
then struck me, that the one man had gone over the hill to fetch
the rest of his tribe. I suggested this; but all the answer I
could extort was, "Quien sabe?" His head and eye never for a
minute ceased scanning slowly the distant horizon. I thought his
uncommon coolness too good a joke, and asked him why he did not
return home. I was startled when he answered, "We are returning,
but in a line so as to pass near a swamp, into which we can
gallop the horses as far as they can go, and then trust to our
own legs; so that there is no danger." I did not feel quite so
confident of this, and wanted to increase our pace. He said, "No,
not until they do." When any little inequality concealed us, we
galloped; but when in sight, continued walking. At last we
reached a valley, and turning to the left, galloped quickly to
the foot of a hill; he gave me his horse to hold, made the dogs
lie down, and then crawled on his hands and knees to reconnoitre.
He remained in this position for some time, and at last, bursting
out in laughter, exclaimed, "Mugeres!" (women!) He knew them to
be the wife and sister-in-law of the major's son, hunting for
ostrich's eggs.

I have described this man's conduct, because he acted under the
full impression that they were Indians. As soon, however, as the
absurd mistake was found out, he gave me a hundred reasons why
they could not have been Indians; but all these were forgotten at
the time. We then rode on in peace and quietness to a low point
called Punta Alta, whence we could see nearly the whole of the
great harbour of Bahia Blanca.

The wide expanse of water is choked up by numerous great
mudbanks, which the inhabitants call Cangrejales, or crabberies,
from the number of small crabs. The mud is so soft that it is
impossible to walk over them, even for the shortest distance.
Many of the banks have their surfaces covered with long rushes,
the tops of which alone are visible at high water. On one
occasion, when in a boat, we were so entangled by these shallows
that we could hardly find our way. Nothing was visible but the
flat beds of mud; the day was not very clear, and there was much
refraction, or, as the sailors expressed it, "things loomed
high." The only object within our view which was not level was
the horizon; rushes looked like bushes unsupported in the air,
and water like mudbanks, and mudbanks like water.

We passed the night in Punta Alta, and I employed myself in
searching for fossil bones; this point being a perfect catacomb
for monsters of extinct races. The evening was perfectly calm and
clear; the extreme monotony of the view gave it an interest even
in the midst of mudbanks and gulls, sand-hillocks and solitary
vultures. In riding back in the morning we came across a very
fresh track of a Puma, but did not succeed in finding it. We saw
also a couple of Zorillos, or skunks,--odious animals, which are
far from uncommon. In general appearance the Zorillo resembles a
polecat, but it is rather larger, and much thicker in proportion.
Conscious of its power, it roams by day about the open plain, and
fears neither dog nor man. If a dog is urged to the attack, its
courage is instantly checked by a few drops of the fetid oil,
which brings on violent sickness and running at the nose.
Whatever is once polluted by it, is for ever useless. Azara says
the smell can be perceived at a league distant; more than once,
when entering the harbour of Monte Video, the wind being off
shore, we have perceived the odour on board the "Beagle." Certain
it is, that every animal most willingly makes room for the
Zorillo.

(PLATE 20.  BRINGING IN A PRISONER.)

(PLATE 21.  IRREGULAR TROOPS.)


CHAPTER V.

Bahia Blanca.
Geology.
Numerous gigantic extinct Quadrupeds.
Recent Extinction.
Longevity of Species.
Large Animals do not require a luxuriant Vegetation.
Southern Africa.
Siberian Fossils.
Two Species of Ostrich.
Habits of Oven-bird.
Armadilloes.
Venomous Snake, Toad, Lizard.
Hybernation of Animals.
Habits of Sea-Pen.
Indian Wars and Massacres.
Arrowhead, antiquarian Relic.

BAHIA BLANCA.

The "Beagle" arrived here on the 24th of August, and a week
afterwards sailed for the Plata. With Captain Fitz Roy's consent
I was left behind, to travel by land to Buenos Ayres. I will here
add some observations, which were made during this visit and on a
previous occasion, when the "Beagle" was employed in surveying
the harbour.

The plain, at the distance of a few miles from the coast, belongs
to the great Pampean formation, which consists in part of a
reddish clay, and in part of a highly calcareous marly rock.
Nearer the coast there are some plains formed from the wreck of
the upper plain, and from mud, gravel, and sand thrown up by the
sea during the slow elevation of the land, of which elevation we
have evidence in upraised beds of recent shells, and in rounded
pebbles of pumice scattered over the country. At Punta Alta we
have a section of one of these later-formed little plains, which
is highly interesting from the number and extraordinary character
of the remains of gigantic land-animals embedded in it. These
have been fully described by Professor Owen, in the "Zoology of
the Voyage of the 'Beagle,'" and are deposited in the College of
Surgeons. I will here give only a brief outline of their nature.

First, parts of three heads and other bones of the Megatherium,
the huge dimensions of which are expressed by its name. Secondly,
the Megalonyx, a great allied animal. Thirdly, the
Scelidotherium, also an allied animal, of which I obtained a
nearly perfect skeleton. It must have been as large as a
rhinoceros: in the structure of its head it comes, according to
Mr. Owen, nearest to the Cape Ant-eater, but in some other
respects it approaches to the armadilloes. Fourthly, the Mylodon
Darwinii, a closely related genus of little inferior size.
Fifthly, another gigantic edental quadruped. Sixthly, a large
animal, with an osseous coat in compartments, very like that of
an armadillo. Seventhly, an extinct kind of horse, to which I
shall have again to refer. Eighthly, a tooth of a Pachydermatous
animal, probably the same with the Macrauchenia, a huge beast
with a long neck like a camel, which I shall also refer to again.
Lastly, the Toxodon, perhaps one of the strangest animals ever
discovered: in size it equalled an elephant or megatherium, but
the structure of its teeth, as Mr. Owen states, proves
indisputably that it was intimately related to the Gnawers, the
order which, at the present day, includes most of the smallest
quadrupeds: in many details it is allied to the Pachydermata:
judging from the position of its eyes, ears, and nostrils, it was
probably aquatic, like the Dugong and Manatee, to which it is
also allied. How wonderfully are the different Orders, at the
present time so well separated, blended together in different
points of the structure of the Toxodon!

The remains of these nine great quadrupeds and many detached
bones were found embedded on the beach, within the space of about
200 yards square. It is a remarkable circumstance that so many
different species should be found together; and it proves how
numerous in kind the ancient inhabitants of this country must
have been. At the distance of about thirty miles from Punta Alta,
in a cliff of red earth, I found several fragments of bones, some
of large size. Among them were the teeth of a gnawer, equalling
in size and closely resembling those of the Capybara, whose
habits have been described; and therefore, probably, an aquatic
animal. There was also part of the head of a Ctenomys; the
species being different from the Tucutuco, but with a close
general resemblance. The red earth, like that of the Pampas, in
which these remains were embedded, contains, according to
Professor Ehrenberg, eight fresh-water and one salt-water
infusorial animalcule; therefore, probably, it was an estuary
deposit.

The remains at Punta Alta were embedded in stratified gravel and
reddish mud, just such as the sea might now wash up on a shallow
bank. They were associated with twenty-three species of shells,
of which thirteen are recent and four others very closely related
to recent forms. (5/1. Since this was written, M. Alcide
d'Orbigny has examined these shells, and pronounces them all to
be recent.) From the bones of the Scelidotherium, including even
the kneecap, being entombed in their proper relative positions,
and from the osseous armour of the great armadillo-like animal
being so well preserved, together with the bones of one of its
legs, we may feel assured that these remains were fresh and
united by their ligaments, when deposited in the gravel together
with the shells. (5/2. M. Aug. Bravard has described, in a
Spanish work "Observaciones Geologicas" 1857, this district, and
he believes that the bones of the extinct mammals were washed out
of the underlying Pampean deposit, and subsequently became
embedded with the still existing shells; but I am not convinced
by his remarks. M. Bravard believes that the whole enormous
Pampean deposit is a sub-aerial formation, like sand-dunes: this
seems to me to be an untenable doctrine.) Hence we have good
evidence that the above enumerated gigantic quadrupeds, more
different from those of the present day than the oldest of the
tertiary quadrupeds of Europe, lived whilst the sea was peopled
with most of its present inhabitants; and we have confirmed that
remarkable law so often insisted on by Mr. Lyell, namely, that
the "longevity of the species in the mammalia is upon the whole
inferior to that of the testacea." (5/3. "Principles of Geology"
volume 4 page 40.)

The great size of the bones of the Megatheroid animals, including
the Megatherium, Megalonyx, Scelidotherium, and Mylodon, is truly
wonderful. The habits of life of these animals were a complete
puzzle to naturalists, until Professor Owen solved the problem
with remarkable ingenuity. (5/4. This theory was first developed
in the "Zoology of the Voyage of the 'Beagle,'" and subsequently
in Professor Owen's "Memoir on Mylodon robustus.") The teeth
indicate, by their simple structure, that these Megatheroid
animals lived on vegetable food, and probably on the leaves and
small twigs of trees; their ponderous forms and great strong
curved claws seem so little adapted for locomotion, that some
eminent naturalists have actually believed that, like the sloths,
to which they are intimately related, they subsisted by climbing
back downwards on trees, and feeding on the leaves. It was a
bold, not to say preposterous, idea to conceive even antediluvian
trees, with branches strong enough to bear animals as large as
elephants. Professor Owen, with far more probability, believes
that, instead of climbing on the trees, they pulled the branches
down to them, and tore up the smaller ones by the roots, and so
fed on the leaves. The colossal breadth and weight of their
hinder quarters, which can hardly be imagined without having been
seen, become, on this view, of obvious service, instead of being
an encumbrance: their apparent clumsiness disappears. With their
great tails and their huge heels firmly fixed like a tripod on
the ground, they could freely exert the full force of their most
powerful arms and great claws. Strongly rooted, indeed, must that
tree have been, which could have resisted such force! The
Mylodon, moreover, was furnished with a long extensile tongue
like that of the giraffe, which, by one of those beautiful
provisions of nature, thus reaches with the aid of its long neck
its leafy food. I may remark, that in Abyssinia the elephant,
according to Bruce, when it cannot reach with its proboscis the
branches, deeply scores with its tusks the trunk of the tree, up
and down and all round, till it is sufficiently weakened to be
broken down.

The beds including the above fossil remains stand only from
fifteen to twenty feet above the level of high water; and hence
the elevation of the land has been small (without there has been
an intercalated period of subsidence, of which we have no
evidence) since the great quadrupeds wandered over the
surrounding plains; and the external features of the country must
then have been very nearly the same as now. What, it may
naturally be asked, was the character of the vegetation at that
period; was the country as wretchedly sterile as it now is? As so
many of the co-embedded shells are the same with those now living
in the bay, I was at first inclined to think that the former
vegetation was probably similar to the existing one; but this
would have been an erroneous inference, for some of these same
shells live on the luxuriant coast of Brazil; and generally, the
characters of the inhabitants of the sea are useless as guides to
judge of those on the land. Nevertheless, from the following
considerations, I do not believe that the simple fact of many
gigantic quadrupeds having lived on the plains round Bahia
Blanca, is any sure guide that they formerly were clothed with a
luxuriant vegetation: I have no doubt that the sterile country a
little southward, near the Rio Negro, with its scattered thorny
trees, would support many and large quadrupeds.

That large animals require a luxuriant vegetation, has been a
general assumption which has passed from one work to another; but
I do not hesitate to say that it is completely false, and that it
has vitiated the reasoning of geologists on some points of great
interest in the ancient history of the world. The prejudice has
probably been derived from India, and the Indian islands, where
troops of elephants, noble forests, and impenetrable jungles, are
associated together in every one's mind. If, however, we refer to
any work of travels through the southern parts of Africa, we
shall find allusions in almost every page either to the desert
character of the country, or to the numbers of large animals
inhabiting it. The same thing is rendered evident by the many
engravings which have been published of various parts of the
interior. When the "Beagle" was at Cape Town, I made an excursion
of some days' length into the country, which at least was
sufficient to render that which I had read more fully
intelligible.

Dr. Andrew Smith, who, at the head of his adventurous party, has
lately succeeded in passing the Tropic of Capricorn, informs me
that, taking into consideration the whole of the southern part of
Africa, there can be no doubt of its being a sterile country. On
the southern and south-eastern coasts there are some fine
forests, but with these exceptions, the traveller may pass for
days together through open plains, covered by a poor and scanty
vegetation. It is difficult to convey any accurate idea of
degrees of comparative fertility; but it may be safely said that
the amount of vegetation supported at any one time  by Great
Britain, exceeds, perhaps even tenfold, the quantity on an equal
area in the interior parts of Southern Africa. (5/5. I mean by
this to exclude the total amount which may have been successively
produced and consumed during a given period.) The fact that
bullock-waggons can travel in any direction, excepting near the
coast, without more than occasionally half an hour's delay in
cutting down bushes, gives, perhaps, a more definite notion of
the scantiness of the vegetation. Now, if we look to the animals
inhabiting these wide plains, we shall find their numbers
extraordinarily great, and their bulk immense. We must enumerate
the elephant, three species of rhinoceros, and probably,
according to Dr. Smith, two others, the hippopotamus, the
giraffe, the bos caffer--as large as a full-grown bull, and the
elan--but little less, two zebras, and the quaccha, two gnus, and
several antelopes even larger than these latter animals. It may
be supposed that although the species are numerous, the
individuals of each kind are few. By the kindness of Dr. Smith, I
am enabled to show that the case is very different. He informs
me, that in latitude 24 degrees, in one day's march with the
bullock-waggons, he saw, without wandering to any great distance
on either side, between one hundred and one hundred and fifty
rhinoceroses, which belonged to three species: the same day he
saw several herds of giraffes, amounting together to nearly a
hundred; and that, although no elephant was observed, yet they
are found in this district. At the distance of a little more than
one hour's march from their place of encampment on the previous
night, his party actually killed at one spot eight
hippopotamuses, and saw many more. In this same river there were
likewise crocodiles. Of course it was a case quite extraordinary,
to see so many great animals crowded together, but it evidently
proves that they must exist in great numbers. Dr. Smith describes
the country passed through that day, as "being thinly covered
with grass, and bushes about four feet high, and still more
thinly with mimosa-trees." The waggons were not prevented
travelling in a nearly straight line.

Besides these large animals, every one the least acquainted with
the natural history of the Cape has read of the herds of
antelopes, which can be compared only with the flocks of
migratory birds. The numbers indeed of the lion, panther, and
hyaena, and the multitude of birds of prey, plainly speak of the
abundance of the smaller quadrupeds: one evening seven lions were
counted at the same time prowling round Dr. Smith's encampment.
As this able naturalist remarked to me, the carnage each day in
Southern Africa must indeed be terrific! I confess it is truly
surprising how such a number of animals can find support in a
country producing so little food. The larger quadrupeds no doubt
roam over wide tracts in search of it; and their food chiefly
consists of underwood, which probably contains much nutriment in
a small bulk. Dr. Smith also informs me that the vegetation has a
rapid growth; no sooner is a part consumed, than its place is
supplied by a fresh stock. There can be no doubt, however, that
our ideas respecting the apparent amount of food necessary for
the support of large quadrupeds are much exaggerated: it should
have been remembered that the camel, an animal of no mean bulk,
has always been considered as the emblem of the desert.

The belief that where large quadrupeds exist, the vegetation must
necessarily be luxuriant, is the more remarkable, because the
converse is far from true. Mr. Burchell observed to me that when
entering Brazil, nothing struck him more forcibly than the
splendour of the South American vegetation contrasted with that
of South Africa, together with the absence of all large
quadrupeds. In his "Travels," he has suggested that the
comparison of the respective weights (if there were sufficient
data) of an equal number of the largest herbivorous quadrupeds of
each country would be extremely curious. (5/6. "Travels in the
Interior of South Africa" volume 2 page 207.) If we take on the
one side, the elephant, hippopotamus, giraffe, bos caffer, elan,
certainly three, and probably five species of rhinoceros; and on
the American side, two tapirs, the guanaco, three deer, the
vicuna, peccari, capybara (after which we must choose from the
monkeys to complete the number), and then place these two groups
alongside each other, it is not easy to conceive ranks more
disproportionate in size. (5/7. The elephant which was killed at
Exeter Change was estimated (being partly weighed) at five tons
and a half. The elephant actress, as I was informed, weighed one
ton less; so that we may take five as the average of a full-grown
elephant. I was told at the Surry Gardens, that a hippopotamus
which was sent to England cut up into pieces was estimated at
three tons and a half; we will call it three. From these premises
we may give three tons and a half to each of the five
rhinoceroses; perhaps a ton to the giraffe, and half to the bos
caffer as well as to the elan (a large ox weighs from 1200 to
1500 pounds). This will give an average (from the above
estimates) of 2.7 of a ton for the ten largest herbivorous
animals of Southern Africa. In South America, allowing 1200
pounds for the two tapirs together, 550 for the guanaco and
vicuna, 500 for three deer, 300 for the capybara, peccari, and a
monkey, we shall have an average of 250 pounds, which I believe
is overstating the result. The ratio will therefore be as 6048 to
250, or 24 to 1, for the ten largest animals from the two
continents.) After the above facts, we are compelled to conclude,
against anterior probability, that among the mammalia there
exists no close relation between the BULK of the species and the
QUANTITY of the vegetation in the countries which they inhabit.
(5/8. If we suppose the case of the discovery of a skeleton of a
Greenland whale in a fossil state, not a single cetaceous animal
being known to exist, what naturalist would have ventured
conjecture on the possibility of a carcass so gigantic being
supported on the minute crustacea and mollusca living in the
frozen seas of the extreme North?)

With regard to the number of large quadrupeds, there certainly
exists no quarter of the globe which will bear comparison with
Southern Africa. After the different statements which have been
given, the extremely desert character of that region will not be
disputed. In the European division of the world, we must look
back to the tertiary epochs, to find a condition of things among
the mammalia, resembling that now existing at the Cape of Good
Hope. Those tertiary epochs, which we are apt to consider as
abounding to an astonishing degree with large animals, because we
find the remains of many ages accumulated at certain spots, could
hardly boast of more large quadrupeds than Southern Africa does
at present. If we speculate on the condition of the vegetation
during those epochs, we are at least bound so far to consider
existing analogies, as not to urge as absolutely necessary a
luxuriant vegetation, when we see a state of things so totally
different at the Cape of Good Hope.

We know that the extreme regions of North America many degrees
beyond the limit where the ground at the depth of a few feet
remains perpetually congealed, are covered by forests of large
and tall trees. (5/9. See "Zoological Remarks to Captain Back's
Expedition" by Dr. Richardson. He says, "The subsoil north of
latitude 56 degrees is perpetually frozen, the thaw on the coast
not penetrating above three feet, and at Bear Lake, in latitude
64 degrees, not more than twenty inches. The frozen substratum
does not of itself destroy vegetation, for forests flourish on
the surface, at a distance from the coast.") In a like manner, in
Siberia, we have woods of birch, fir, aspen, and larch, growing
in a latitude (64 degrees) where the mean temperature of the air
falls below the freezing point, and where the earth is so
completely frozen, that the carcass of an animal embedded in it
is perfectly preserved. (5/10. See Humboldt "Fragmens Asiatiques"
page 386: Barton's "Geography of Plants"; and Malte Brun. In the
latter work it is said that the limit of the growth of trees in
Siberia may be drawn under the parallel of 70 degrees.) With
these facts we must grant, as far as QUANTITY ALONE of vegetation
is concerned, that the great quadrupeds of the later tertiary
epochs might, in most parts of Northern Europe and Asia, have
lived on the spots where their remains are now found. I do not
here speak of the KIND of vegetation necessary for their support;
because, as there is evidence of physical changes, and as the
animals have become extinct, so may we suppose that the species
of plants have likewise been changed.

These remarks, I may be permitted to add, directly bear on the
case of the Siberian animals preserved in ice. The firm
conviction of the necessity of a vegetation possessing a
character of tropical luxuriance, to support such large animals,
and the impossibility of reconciling this with the proximity of
perpetual congelation, was one chief cause of the several
theories of sudden revolutions of climate, and of overwhelming
catastrophes, which were invented to account for their
entombment. I am far from supposing that the climate has not
changed since the period when those animals lived, which now lie
buried in the ice. At present I only wish to show, that as far as
QUANTITY of food ALONE is concerned, the ancient rhinoceroses
might have roamed over the STEPPES of central Siberia (the
northern parts probably being under water) even in their present
condition, as well as the living rhinoceroses and elephants over
the KARROS of Southern Africa.

I will now give an account of the habits of some of the more
interesting birds which are common on the wild plains of Northern
Patagonia: and first for the largest, or South American ostrich.
The ordinary habits of the ostrich are familiar to every one.
They live on vegetable matter, such as roots and grass; but at
Bahia Blanca I have repeatedly seen three or four come down at
low water to the extensive mudbanks which are then dry, for the
sake, as the Gauchos say, of feeding on small fish. Although the
ostrich in its habits is so shy, wary, and solitary, and although
so fleet in its pace, it is caught without much difficulty by the
Indian or Gaucho armed with the bolas. When several horsemen
appear in a semicircle, it becomes confounded, and does not know
which way to escape. They generally prefer running against the
wind; yet at the first start they expand their wings, and like a
vessel make all sail. On one fine hot day I saw several ostriches
enter a bed of tall rushes, where they squatted concealed, till
quite closely approached. It is not generally known that
ostriches readily take to the water. Mr. King informs me that at
the Bay of San Blas, and at Port Valdes in Patagonia, he saw
these birds swimming several times from island to island. They
ran into the water both when driven down to a point, and likewise
of their own accord when not frightened: the distance crossed was
about two hundred yards. When swimming, very little of their
bodies appear above water; their necks are extended a little
forward, and their progress is slow. On two occasions I saw some
ostriches swimming across the Santa Cruz river, where its course
was about four hundred yards wide, and the stream rapid. Captain
Sturt, when descending the Murrumbidgee, in Australia, saw two
emus in the act of swimming. (5/11. Sturt's Travels, volume 2
page 74.)

The inhabitants of the country readily distinguish, even at a
distance, the cock bird from the hen. The former is larger and
darker-coloured, and has a bigger head. (5/12. A Gucho assured me
that he had once seen a snow-white or Albino variety, and that it
was a most beautiful bird.) The ostrich, I believe the cock,
emits a singular, deep-toned, hissing note: when first I heard
it, standing in the midst of some sand-hillocks, I thought it was
made by some wild beast, for it is a sound that one cannot tell
whence it comes, or from how far distant. When we were at Bahia
Blanca in the months of September and October, the eggs, in
extraordinary numbers, were found all over the country. They lie
either scattered and single, in which case they are never
hatched, and are called by the Spaniards huachos; or they are
collected together into a shallow excavation, which forms the
nest. Out of the four nests which I saw, three contained
twenty-two eggs each, and the fourth twenty-seven. In one day's
hunting on horseback sixty-four eggs were found; forty-four of
these were in two nests, and the remaining twenty, scattered
huachos. The Gauchos unanimously affirm, and there is no reason
to doubt their statement, that the male bird alone hatches the
eggs, and for some time afterwards accompanies the young. The
cock when on the nest lies very close; I have myself almost
ridden over one. It is asserted that at such times they are
occasionally fierce, and even dangerous, and that they have been
known to attack a man on horseback, trying to kick and leap on
him. My informer pointed out to me an old man, whom he had seen
much terrified by one chasing him. I observe in Burchell's
"Travels in South Africa" that he remarks, "Having killed a male
ostrich, and the feathers being dirty, it was said by the
Hottentots to be a nest bird." I understand that the male emu in
the Zoological Gardens takes charge of the nest: this habit,
therefore, is common to the family.

The Gauchos unanimously affirm that several females lay in one
nest. I have been positively told that four or five hen birds
have been watched to go in the middle of the day, one after the
other, to the same nest. I may add, also, that it is believed in
Africa that two or more females lay in one nest. (5/13.
Burchell's "Travels" volume 1 page 280.) Although this habit at
first appears very strange, I think the cause may be explained in
a simple manner. The number of eggs in the nest varies from
twenty to forty, and even to fifty; and according to Azara,
sometimes to seventy or eighty. Now although it is most probable,
from the number of eggs found in one district being so
extraordinarily great in proportion to the parent birds, and
likewise from the state of the ovarium of the hen, that she may
in the course of the season lay a large number, yet the time
required must be very long. Azara states that a female in a state
of domestication laid seventeen eggs, each at the interval of
three days one from another. (5/14. Azara volume 4 page 173.) If
the hen was obliged to hatch her own eggs, before the last was
laid the first probably would be addled; but if each laid a few
eggs at successive periods, in different nests, and several hens,
as is stated to be the case, combined together, then the eggs in
one collection would be nearly of the same age. If the number of
eggs in one of these nests is, as I believe, not greater on an
average than the number laid by one female in the season, then
there must be as many nests as females, and each cock bird will
have its fair share of the labour of incubation; and that during
a period when the females probably could not sit, from not having
finished laying. (5/15. Lichtenstein, however, asserts "Travels"
volume 2 page 25, that the hens begin sitting when they have laid
ten or twelve eggs; and that they continue laying, I presume in
another nest. This appears to me very improbable. He asserts that
four or five hens associate for incubation with one cock, who
sits only at night.) I have before mentioned the great numbers of
huachos, or deserted eggs; so that in one day's hunting twenty
were found in this state. It appears odd that so many should be
wasted. Does it not arise from the difficulty of several females
associating together, and finding a male ready to undertake the
office of incubation? It is evident that there must at first be
some degree of association between at least two females;
otherwise the eggs would remain scattered over the wide plains,
at distances far too great to allow of the male collecting them
into one nest: some authors have believed that the scattered eggs
were deposited for the young birds to feed on. This can hardly be
the case in America, because the huachos, although often found
addled and putrid, are generally whole.

When at the Rio Negro in Northern Patagonia, I repeatedly heard
the Gauchos talking of a very rare bird which they called
Avestruz Petise. They described it as being less than the common
ostrich (which is there abundant), but with a very close general
resemblance. They said its colour was dark and mottled, and that
its legs were shorter, and feathered lower down than those of the
common ostrich. It is more easily caught by the bolas than the
other species. The few inhabitants who had seen both kinds,
affirmed they could distinguish them apart from a long distance.
The eggs of the small species appeared, however, more generally
known; and it was remarked, with surprise, that they were very
little less than those of the Rhea but of a slightly different
form, and with a tinge of pale blue. This species occurs most
rarely on the plains bordering the Rio Negro; but about a degree
and a half farther south they are tolerably abundant. When at
Port Desire, in Patagonia (latitude 48 degrees), Mr. Martens shot
an ostrich; and I looked at it, forgetting at the moment, in the
most unaccountable manner, the whole subject of the Petises, and
thought it was a not full-grown bird of the common sort. It was
cooked and eaten before my memory returned. Fortunately the head,
neck, legs, wings, many of the larger feathers, and a large part
of the skin, had been preserved; and from these a very nearly
perfect specimen has been put together, and is now exhibited in
the museum of the Zoological Society. Mr. Gould, in describing
this new species, has done me the honour of calling it after my
name.

Among the Patagonian Indians in the Strait of Magellan, we found
a half Indian, who had lived some years with the tribe, but had
been born in the northern provinces. I asked him if he had ever
heard of the Avestruz Petise. He answered by saying, "Why, there
are none others in these southern countries." He informed me that
the number of eggs in the nest of the petise is considerably less
than in that of the other kind, namely, not more than fifteen on
an average, but he asserted that more than one female deposited
them. At Santa Cruz we saw several of these birds. They were
excessively wary: I think they could see a person approaching
when too far off to be distinguished themselves. In ascending the
river few were seen; but in our quiet and rapid descent many, in
pairs and by fours or fives, were observed. It was remarked that
this bird did not expand its wings, when first starting at full
speed, after the manner of the northern kind. In conclusion I may
observe that the Struthio rhea inhabits the country of La Plata
as far as a little south of the Rio Negro in latitude 41 degrees,
and that the Struthio Darwinii takes its place in Southern
Patagonia; the part about the Rio Negro being neutral territory.
M. A. d'Orbigny, when at the Rio Negro, made great exertions to
procure this bird, but never had the good fortune to succeed.
(5/16. When at the Rio Negro, we heard much of the indefatigable
labours of this naturalist. M. Alcide d'Orbigny, during the years
1825 to 1833, traversed several large portions of South America,
and has made a collection, and is now publishing the results on a
scale of magnificence, which at once places himself in the list
of American travellers second only to Humboldt.) Dobrizhoffer
long ago was aware of there being two kinds of ostriches, he
says, "You must know, moreover, that Emus differ in size and
habits in different tracts of land; for those that inhabit the
plains of Buenos Ayres and Tucuman are larger, and have black,
white and grey feathers; those near to the Strait of Magellan are
smaller and more beautiful, for their white feathers are tipped
with black at the extremity, and their black ones in like manner
terminate in white." (5/17. "Account of the Abipones" A.D. 1749
volume 1 English translation page 314.)

A very singular little bird, Tinochorus rumicivorus, is here
common: in its habits and general appearance it nearly equally
partakes of the characters, different as they are, of the quail
and snipe. The Tinochorus is found in the whole of southern South
America, wherever there are sterile plains, or open dry pasture
land. It frequents in pairs or small flocks the most desolate
places, where scarcely another living creature can exist. Upon
being approached they squat close, and then are very difficult to
be distinguished from the ground. When feeding they walk rather
slowly, with their legs wide apart. They dust themselves in roads
and sandy places, and frequent particular spots, where they may
be found day after day: like partridges, they take wing in a
flock. In all these respects, in the muscular gizzard adapted for
vegetable food, in the arched beak and fleshy nostrils, short
legs and form of foot, the Tinochorus has a close affinity with
quails. But as soon as the bird is seen flying, its whole
appearance changes; the long pointed wings, so different from
those in the gallinaceous order, the irregular manner of flight,
and plaintive cry uttered at the moment of rising, recall the
idea of a snipe. The sportsmen of the "Beagle" unanimously called
it the short-billed snipe. To this genus, or rather to the family
of the Waders, its skeleton shows that it is really related.

The Tinochorus is closely related to some other South American
birds. Two species of the genus Attagis are in almost every
respect ptarmigans in their habits; one lives in Tierra del
Fuego, above the limits of the forest land; and the other just
beneath the snow-line on the Cordillera of Central Chile. A bird
of another closely allied genus, Chionis alba, is an inhabitant
of the antarctic regions; it feeds on seaweed and shells on the
tidal rocks. Although not web-footed, from some unaccountable
habit it is frequently met with far out at sea. This small family
of birds is one of those which, from its varied relations to
other families, although at present offering only difficulties to
the systematic naturalist, ultimately may assist in revealing the
grand scheme, common to the present and past ages, on which
organised beings have been created.

The genus Furnarius contains several species, all small birds,
living on the ground, and inhabiting open dry countries. In
structure they cannot be compared to any European form.
Ornithologists have generally included them among the creepers,
although opposed to that family in every habit. The best known
species is the common oven-bird of La Plata, the Casara or
housemaker of the Spaniards. The nest, whence it takes its name,
is placed in the most exposed situations, as on the top of a
post, a bare rock, or on a cactus. It is composed of mud and bits
of straw, and has strong thick walls: in shape it precisely
resembles an oven, or depressed beehive. The opening is large and
arched, and directly in front, within the nest, there is a
partition, which reaches nearly to the roof, thus forming a
passage or antechamber to the true nest.

Another and smaller species of Furnarius (F. cunicularius),
resembles the oven-bird in the general reddish tint of its
plumage, in a peculiar shrill reiterated cry, and in an odd
manner of running by starts. From its affinity, the Spaniards
call it Casarita (or little housebuilder), although its
nidification is quite different. The Casarita builds its nest at
the bottom of a narrow cylindrical hole, which is said to extend
horizontally to nearly six feet under ground. Several of the
country people told me, that when boys, they had attempted to dig
out the nest, but had scarcely ever succeeded in getting to the
end of the passage. The bird chooses any low bank of firm sandy
soil by the side of a road or stream. Here (at Bahia Blanca) the
walls round the houses are built of hardened mud, and I noticed
that one, which enclosed a courtyard where I lodged, was bored
through by round holes in a score of places. On asking the owner
the cause of this, he bitterly complained of the little casarita,
several of which I afterwards observed at work. It is rather
curious to find how incapable these birds must be of acquiring
any notion of thickness, for although they were constantly
flitting over the low wall, they continued vainly to bore through
it, thinking it an excellent bank for their nests. I do not doubt
that each bird, as often as it came to daylight on the opposite
side, was greatly surprised at the marvellous fact.

I have already mentioned nearly all the mammalia common in this
country. Of armadilloes three species occur, namely, the Dasypus
minutus or pichy, the D. villosus or peludo, and the apar. The
first extends ten degrees farther south than any other kind; a
fourth species, the Mulita, does not come as far south as Bahia
Blanca. The four species have nearly similar habits; the peludo,
however, is nocturnal, while the others wander by day over the
open plains, feeding on beetles, larvae, roots, and even small
snakes. The apar, commonly called mataco, is remarkable by having
only three movable bands; the rest of its tesselated covering
being nearly inflexible. It has the power of rolling itself into
a perfect sphere, like one kind of English woodlouse. In this
state it is safe from the attack of dogs; for the dog not being
able to take the whole in its mouth, tries to bite one side, and
the ball slips away. The smooth hard covering of the mataco
offers a better defence than the sharp spines of the hedgehog.
The pichy prefers a very dry soil; and the sand-dunes near the
coast, where for many months it can never taste water, is its
favourite resort: it often tries to escape notice, by squatting
close to the ground. In the course of a day's ride, near Bahia
Blanca, several were generally met with. The instant one was
perceived, it was necessary, in order to catch it, almost to
tumble off one's horse; for in soft soil the animal burrowed so
quickly, that its hinder quarters would almost disappear before
one could alight. It seems almost a pity to kill such nice little
animals, for as a Gaucho said, while sharpening his knife on the
back of one, "Son tan mansos" (they are so quiet).

Of reptiles there are many kinds: one snake (a Trigonocephalus,
or Cophias, subsequently called by M. Bibron T. crepitans), from
the size of the poison channel in its fangs, must be very deadly.
Cuvier, in opposition to some other naturalists, makes this a
sub-genus of the rattlesnake, and intermediate between it and the
viper. In confirmation of this opinion, I observed a fact, which
appears to me very curious and instructive, as showing how every
character, even though it may be in some degree independent of
structure, has a tendency to vary by slow degrees. The extremity
of the tail of this snake is terminated by a point, which is very
slightly enlarged; and as the animal glides along, it constantly
vibrates the last inch; and this part striking against the dry
grass and brushwood, produces a rattling noise, which can be
distinctly heard at the distance of six feet. As often as the
animal was irritated or surprised, its tail was shaken; and the
vibrations were extremely rapid. Even as long as the body
retained its irritability, a tendency to this habitual movement
was evident. This Trigonocephalus has, therefore, in some
respects the structure of a viper, with the habits of a
rattlesnake: the noise, however, being produced by a simpler
device. The expression of this snake's face was hideous and
fierce; the pupil consisted of a vertical slit in a mottled and
coppery iris; the jaws were broad at the base, and the nose
terminated in a triangular projection. I do not think I ever saw
anything more ugly, excepting, perhaps, some of the vampire bats.
I imagine this repulsive aspect originates from the features
being placed in positions, with respect to each other, somewhat
proportional to those of the human face; and thus we obtain a
scale of hideousness.

Amongst the Batrachian reptiles, I found only one little toad
(Phryniscus nigricans), which was most singular from its colour.
If we imagine, first, that it had been steeped in the blackest
ink, and then, when dry, allowed to crawl over a board, freshly
painted with the brightest vermilion, so as to colour the soles
of its feet and parts of its stomach, a good idea of its
appearance will be gained. If it had been an unnamed species,
surely it ought to have been called Diabolicus, for it is a fit
toad to preach in the ear of Eve. Instead of being nocturnal in
its habits, as other toads are, and living in damp obscure
recesses, it crawls during the heat of the day about the dry
sand-hillocks and arid plains, where not a single drop of water
can be found. It must necessarily depend on the dew for its
moisture; and this probably is absorbed by the skin, for it is
known that these reptiles possess great powers of cutaneous
absorption. At Maldonado, I found one in a situation nearly as
dry as at Bahia Blanca, and thinking to give it a great treat,
carried it to a pool of water; not only was the little animal
unable to swim, but I think without help it would soon have been
drowned.

Of lizards there were many kinds, but only one (Proctotretus
multimaculatus) remarkable from its habits. It lives on the bare
sand near the sea-coast, and from its mottled colour, the
brownish scales being speckled with white, yellowish red, and
dirty blue, can hardly be distinguished from the surrounding
surface. When frightened, it attempts to avoid discovery by
feigning death, with outstretched legs, depressed body, and
closed eyes: if further molested, it buries itself with great
quickness in the loose sand. This lizard, from its flattened body
and short legs, cannot run quickly.

I will here add a few remarks on the hybernation of animals in
this part of South America. When we first arrived at Bahia
Blanca, September 7th, 1832, we thought nature had granted
scarcely a living creature to this sandy and dry country. By
digging, however, in the ground, several insects, large spiders,
and lizards were found in a half-torpid state. On the 15th, a few
animals began to appear, and by the 18th (three days from the
equinox), everything announced the commencement of spring. The
plains were ornamented by the flowers of a pink wood-sorrel, wild
peas, oenotherae, and geraniums; and the birds began to lay their
eggs. Numerous Lamellicorn and Heteromerous insects, the latter
remarkable for their deeply sculptured bodies, were slowly
crawling about; while the lizard tribe, the constant inhabitants
of a sandy soil, darted about in every direction. During the
first eleven days, whilst nature was dormant, the mean
temperature taken from observations made every two hours on board
the "Beagle," was 51 degrees; and in the middle of the day the
thermometer seldom ranged above 55 degrees. On the eleven
succeeding days, in which all living things became so animated,
the mean was 58 degrees, and the range in the middle of the day
between sixty and seventy. Here then an increase of seven degrees
in mean temperature, but a greater one of extreme heat, was
sufficient to awake the functions of life. At Monte Video, from
which we had just before sailed, in the twenty-three days
included between the 26th of July and the 19th of August, the
mean temperature from 276 observations was 58.4 degrees; the mean
hottest day being 65.5 degrees, and the coldest 46 degrees. The
lowest point to which the thermometer fell was 41.5 degrees, and
occasionally in the middle of the day it rose to 69 or 70
degrees. Yet with this high temperature, almost every beetle,
several genera of spiders, snails, and land-shells, toads and
lizards, were all lying torpid beneath stones. But we have seen
that at Bahia Blanca, which is four degrees southward, and
therefore with a climate only a very little colder, this same
temperature, with a rather less extreme heat, was sufficient to
awake all orders of animated beings. This shows how nicely the
stimulus required to arouse hybernating animals is governed by
the usual climate of the district, and not by the absolute heat.
It is well known that within the tropics the hybernation, or more
properly aestivation, of animals is determined not by the
temperature, but by the times of drought. Near Rio de Janeiro, I
was at first surprised to observe that, a few days after some
little depressions had been filled with water, they were peopled
by numerous full-grown shells and beetles, which must have been
lying dormant. Humboldt has related the strange accident of a
hovel having been erected over a spot where a young crocodile lay
buried in the hardened mud. He adds, "The Indians often find
enormous boas, which they call Uji, or water serpents, in the
same lethargic state. To reanimate them, they must be irritated
or wetted with water."

I will only mention one other animal, a zoophyte (I believe
Virgularia Patagonica), a kind of sea-pen. It consists of a thin,
straight, fleshy stem, with alternate rows of polypi on each
side, and surrounding an elastic stony axis, varying in length
from eight inches to two feet. The stem at one extremity is
truncate, but at the other is terminated by a vermiform fleshy
appendage. The stony axis which gives strength to the stem may be
traced at this extremity into a mere vessel filled with granular
matter. At low water hundreds of these zoophytes might be seen,
projecting like stubble, with the truncate end upwards, a few
inches above the surface of the muddy sand. When touched or
pulled they suddenly drew themselves in with force, so as nearly
or quite to disappear. By this action, the highly elastic axis
must be bent at the lower extremity, where it is naturally
slightly curved; and I imagine it is by this elasticity alone
that the zoophyte is enabled to rise again through the mud. Each
polypus, though closely united to its brethren, has a distinct
mouth, body, and tentacula. Of these polypi, in a large specimen,
there must be many thousands; yet we see that they act by one
movement: they have also one central axis connected with a system
of obscure circulation, and the ova are produced in an organ
distinct from the separate individuals. (5/18. The cavities
leading from the fleshy compartments of the extremity were filled
with a yellow pulpy matter, which, examined under a microscope,
presented an extraordinary appearance. The mass consisted of
rounded, semi-transparent, irregular grains, aggregated together
into particles of various sizes. All such particles, and the
separate grains, possessed the power of rapid movement; generally
revolving around different axes, but sometimes progressive. The
movement was visible with a very weak power, but even with the
highest its cause could not be perceived. It was very different
from the circulation of the fluid in the elastic bag, containing
the thin extremity of the axis. On other occasions, when
dissecting small marine animals beneath the microscope, I have
seen particles of pulpy matter, some of large size, as soon as
they were disengaged, commence revolving. I have imagined, I know
not with how much truth, that this granulo-pulpy matter was in
process of being converted into ova. Certainly in this zoophyte
such appeared to be the case.) Well may one be allowed to ask,
What is an individual? It is always interesting to discover the
foundation of the strange tales of the old voyagers; and I have
no doubt but that the habits of this Virgularia explain one such
case. Captain Lancaster, in his voyage in 1601, narrates that on
the sea-sands of the Island of Sombrero, in the East Indies, he
"found a small twig growing up like a young tree, and on offering
to pluck it up it shrinks down to the ground, and sinks, unless
held very hard. On being plucked up, a great worm is found to be
its root, and as the tree groweth in greatness, so doth the worm
diminish, and as soon as the worm is entirely turned into a tree
it rooteth in the earth, and so becomes great. This
transformation is one of the strangest wonders that I saw in all
my travels: for if this tree is plucked up, while young, and the
leaves and bark stripped off, it becomes a hard stone when dry,
much like white coral: thus is this worm twice transformed into
different natures. Of these we gathered and brought home many."
(5/19. Kerr's "Collection of Voyages" volume 8 page 119.)

During my stay at Bahia Blanca, while waiting for the "Beagle,"
the place was in a constant state of excitement, from rumours of
wars and victories, between the troops of Rosas and the wild
Indians. One day an account came that a small party forming one
of the postas on the line to Buenos Ayres had been found all
murdered. The next day three hundred men arrived from the
Colorado, under the command of Commandant Miranda. A large
portion of these men were Indians (mansos, or tame), belonging to
the tribe of the Cacique Bernantio. They passed the night here;
and it was impossible to conceive anything more wild and savage
than the scene of their bivouac. Some drank till they were
intoxicated; others swallowed the steaming blood of the cattle
slaughtered for their suppers, and then, being sick from
drunkenness, they cast it up again, and were besmeared with filth
and gore.

Nam simul expletus dapibus, vinoque sepultus
Cervicem inflexam posuit, jacuitque per antrum
Immensus, saniem eructans, ac frusta cruenta
Per somnum commixta mero.

In the morning they started for the scene of the murder, with
orders to follow the rastro, or track, even if it led them to
Chile. We subsequently heard that the wild Indians had escaped
into the great Pampas, and from some cause the track had been
missed. One glance at the rastro tells these people a whole
history. Supposing they examine the track of a thousand horses,
they will soon guess the number of mounted ones by seeing how
many have cantered; by the depth of the other impressions,
whether any horses were loaded with cargoes; by the irregularity
of the footsteps, how far tired; by the manner in which the food
has been cooked, whether the pursued travelled in haste; by the
general appearance, how long it has been since they passed. They
consider a rastro of ten days or a fortnight quite recent enough
to be hunted out. We also heard that Miranda struck from the west
end of the Sierra Ventana, in a direct line to the island of
Cholechel, situated seventy leagues up the Rio Negro. This is a
distance of between two and three hundred miles, through a
country completely unknown. What other troops in the world are so
independent? With the sun for their guide, mare's flesh for food,
their saddle-cloths for beds,--as long as there is a little
water, these men would penetrate to the end of the world.

A few days afterwards I saw another troop of these banditti-like
soldiers start on an expedition against a tribe of Indians at the
small Salinas, who had been betrayed by a prisoner cacique. The
Spaniard who brought the orders for this expedition was a very
intelligent man. He gave me an account of the last engagement at
which he was present. Some Indians, who had been taken prisoners,
gave information of a tribe living north of the Colorado. Two
hundred soldiers were sent; and they first discovered the Indians
by a cloud of dust from their horses' feet as they chanced to be
travelling. The country was mountainous and wild, and it must
have been far in the interior, for the Cordillera were in sight.
The Indians, men, women, and children, were about one hundred and
ten in number, and they were nearly all taken or killed, for the
soldiers sabre every man. The Indians are now so terrified that
they offer no resistance in a body, but each flies, neglecting
even his wife and children; but when overtaken, like wild
animals, they fight against any number to the last moment. One
dying Indian seized with his teeth the thumb of his adversary,
and allowed his own eye to be forced out sooner than relinquish
his hold. Another, who was wounded, feigned death, keeping a
knife ready to strike one more fatal blow. My informer said, when
he was pursuing an Indian, the man cried out for mercy, at the
same time that he was covertly loosing the bolas from his waist,
meaning to whirl it round his head and so strike his pursuer. "I
however struck him with my sabre to the ground, and then got off
my horse, and cut his throat with my knife." This is a dark
picture; but how much more shocking is the unquestionable fact,
that all the women who appear above twenty years old are
massacred in cold blood? When I exclaimed that this appeared
rather inhuman, he answered, "Why, what can be done? they breed
so!"

Every one here is fully convinced that this is the most just war,
because it is against barbarians. Who would believe in this age
that such atrocities could be committed in a Christian civilised
country? The children of the Indians are saved, to be sold or
given away as servants, or rather slaves for as long a time as
the owners can make them believe themselves slaves; but I believe
in their treatment there is little to complain of.

In the battle four men ran away together. They were pursued, one
was killed, and the other three were taken alive. They turned out
to be messengers or ambassadors from a large body of Indians,
united in the common cause of defence, near the Cordillera. The
tribe to which they had been sent was on the point of holding a
grand council, the feast of mare's flesh was ready, and the dance
prepared: in the morning the ambassadors were to have returned to
the Cordillera. They were remarkably fine men, very fair, above
six feet high, and all under thirty years of age. The three
survivors of course possessed very valuable information and to
extort this they were placed in a line. The two first being
questioned, answered, "No s" (I do not know), and were one after
the other shot. The third also said "No s;" adding, "Fire, I am
a man, and can die!" Not one syllable would they breathe to
injure the united cause of their country! The conduct of the
above-mentioned cacique was very different; he saved his life by
betraying the intended plan of warfare, and the point of union in
the Andes. It was believed that there were already six or seven
hundred Indians together, and that in summer their numbers would
be doubled. Ambassadors were to have been sent to the Indians at
the small Salinas, near Bahia Blanca, whom I have mentioned that
this same cacique had betrayed. The communication, therefore,
between the Indians, extends from the Cordillera to the coast of
the Atlantic.

General Rosas's plan is to kill all stragglers, and having driven
the remainder to a common point, to attack them in a body, in the
summer, with the assistance of the Chilenos. This operation is to
be repeated for three successive years. I imagine the summer is
chosen as the time for the main attack, because the plains are
then without water, and the Indians can only travel in particular
directions. The escape of the Indians to the south of the Rio
Negro, where in such a vast unknown country they would be safe,
is prevented by a treaty with the Tehuelches to this
effect;--that Rosas pays them so much to slaughter every Indian
who passes to the south of the river, but if they fail in so
doing, they themselves are to be exterminated. The war is waged
chiefly against the Indians near the Cordillera; for many of the
tribes on this eastern side are fighting with Rosas. The general,
however, like Lord Chesterfield, thinking that his friends may in
a future day become his enemies, always places them in the front
ranks, so that their numbers may be thinned. Since leaving South
America we have heard that this war of extermination completely
failed.

Among the captive girls taken in the same engagement, there were
two very pretty Spanish ones, who had been carried away by the
Indians when young, and could now only speak the Indian tongue.
From their account they must have come from Salta, a distance in
a straight line of nearly one thousand miles. This gives one a
grand idea of the immense territory over which the Indians roam:
yet, great as it is, I think there will not, in another
half-century, be a wild Indian northward of the Rio Negro. The
warfare is too bloody to last; the Christians killing every
Indian, and the Indians doing the same by the Christians. It is
melancholy to trace how the Indians have given way before the
Spanish invaders. Schirdel says that in 1535, when Buenos Ayres
was founded, there were villages containing two and three
thousand inhabitants. (5/20. Purchas's "Collection of Voyages." I
believe the date was really 1537.) Even in Falconer's time (1750)
the Indians made inroads as far as Luxan, Areco, and Arrecife,
but now they are driven beyond the Salado. Not only have whole
tribes been exterminated, but the remaining Indians have become
more barbarous: instead of living in large villages, and being
employed in the arts of fishing, as well as of the chase, they
now wander about the open plains, without home or fixed
occupation.

I heard also some account of an engagement which took place, a
few weeks previously to the one mentioned, at Cholechel. This is
a very important station on account of being a pass for horses;
and it was, in consequence, for some time the head-quarters of a
division of the army. When the troops first arrived there they
found a tribe of Indians, of whom they killed twenty or thirty.
The cacique escaped in a manner which astonished every one. The
chief Indians always have one or two picked horses, which they
keep ready for any urgent occasion. On one of these, an old white
horse, the cacique sprung, taking with him his little son. The
horse had neither saddle nor bridle. To avoid the shots, the
Indian rode in the peculiar method of his nation; namely, with an
arm round the horse's neck, and one leg only on its back. Thus
hanging on one side, he was seen patting the horse's head, and
talking to him. The pursuers urged every effort in the chase; the
Commandant three times changed his horse, but all in vain. The
old Indian father and his son escaped, and were free. What a fine
picture one can form in one's mind,--the naked, bronze-like
figure of the old man with his little boy, riding like a Mazeppa
on the white horse, thus leaving far behind him the host of his
pursuers!

I saw one day a soldier striking fire with a piece of flint,
which I immediately recognised as having been a part of the head
of an arrow. He told me it was found near the island of
Cholechel, and that they are frequently picked up there. It was
between two and three inches long, and therefore twice as large
as those now used in Tierra del Fuego: it was made of opaque
cream-coloured flint, but the point and barbs had been
intentionally broken off. It is well known that no Pampas Indians
now use bows and arrows. I believe a small tribe in Banda
Oriental must be excepted; but they are widely separated from the
Pampas Indians, and border close on those tribes that inhabit the
forest, and live on foot. It appears, therefore, that these
arrow-heads are antiquarian relics of the Indians, before the
great change in habits consequent on the introduction of the
horse into South America. (5/21. Azara has even doubted whether
the Pampas Indians ever used bows. [Several similar agate
arrow-heads have since been dug up at Chupat, and two were given
to me, on the occasion of my visit there, by the Governor.--R.T.
Pritchett, 1880.])

(PLATE 23.  RHEA DARWINII (Avestruz Petise).)


CHAPTER VI.

(PLATE 24.  LANDING AT BUENOS AYRES.)

Set out for Buenos Ayres.
Rio Sauce.
Sierra Ventana.
Third Posta.
Driving Horses.
Bolas.
Partridges and Foxes.
Features of the Country.
Long-legged Plover.
Teru-tero.
Hail-storm.
Natural Enclosures in the Sierra Tapalguen.
Flesh of Puma.
Meat Diet.
Guardia del Monte.
Effects of Cattle on the Vegetation.
Cardoon.
Buenos Ayres.
Corral where Cattle are slaughtered.

BAHIA BLANCA TO BUENOS AYRES.

SEPTEMBER 8, 1833.

I hired a Gaucho to accompany me on my ride to Buenos Ayres,
though with some difficulty, as the father of one man was afraid
to let him go, and another who seemed willing, was described to
me as so fearful that I was afraid to take him, for I was told
that even if he saw an ostrich at a distance, he would mistake it
for an Indian, and would fly like the wind away. The distance to
Buenos Ayres is about four hundred miles, and nearly the whole
way through an uninhabited country. We started early in the
morning; ascending a few hundred feet from the basin of green
turf on which Bahia Blanca stands, we entered on a wide desolate
plain. It consists of a crumbling argillaceo-calcareous rock,
which, from the dry nature of the climate, supports only
scattered tufts of withered grass, without a single bush or tree
to break the monotonous uniformity. The weather was fine, but the
atmosphere remarkably hazy; I thought the appearance foreboded a
gale, but the Gauchos said it was owing to the plain, at some
great distance in the interior, being on fire. After a long
gallop, having changed horses twice, we reached the Rio Sauce: it
is a deep, rapid, little stream, not above twenty-five feet wide.
The second posta on the road to Buenos Ayres stands on its banks,
a little above there is a ford for horses, where the water does
not reach to the horses' belly; but from that point, in its
course to the sea, it is quite impassable, and hence makes a most
useful barrier against the Indians.

Insignificant as this stream is, the Jesuit Falconer, whose
information is generally so very correct, figures it as a
considerable river, rising at the foot of the Cordillera. With
respect to its source, I do not doubt that this is the case; for
the Gauchos assured me, that in the middle of the dry summer this
stream, at the same time with the Colorado, has periodical
floods, which can only originate in the snow melting on the
Andes. It is extremely improbable that a stream so small as the
Sauce then was should traverse the entire width of the continent;
and indeed, if it were the residue of a large river, its waters,
as in other ascertained cases, would be saline. During the winter
we must look to the springs round the Sierra Ventana as the
source of its pure and limpid stream. I suspect the plains of
Patagonia, like those of Australia, are traversed by many
watercourses, which only perform their proper parts at certain
periods. Probably this is the case with the water which flows
into the head of Port Desire, and likewise with the Rio Chupat,
on the banks of which masses of highly cellular scoriae were
found by the officers employed in the survey.

As it was early in the afternoon when we arrived, we took fresh
horses and a soldier for a guide, and started for the Sierra de
la Ventana. This mountain is visible from the anchorage at Bahia
Blanca; and Captain Fitz Roy calculates its height to be 3340
feet--an altitude very remarkable on this eastern side of the
continent. I am not aware that any foreigner, previous to my
visit, had ascended this mountain; and indeed very few of the
soldiers at Bahia Blanca knew anything about it. Hence we heard
of beds of coal, of gold and silver, of caves, and of forests,
all of which inflamed my curiosity, only to disappoint it. The
distance from the posta was about six leagues, over a level plain
of the same character as before. The ride was, however,
interesting, as the mountain began to show its true form. When we
reached the foot of the main ridge, we had much difficulty in
finding any water, and we thought we should have been obliged to
have passed the night without any. At last we discovered some by
looking close to the mountain, for at the distance even of a few
hundred yards, the streamlets were buried and entirely lost in
the friable calcareous stone and loose detritus. I do not think
Nature ever made a more solitary, desolate pile of rock;--it well
deserves its name of Hurtado, or separated. The mountain is
steep, extremely rugged, and broken, and so entirely destitute of
trees, and even bushes, that we actually could not make a skewer
to stretch out our meat over the fire of thistle-stalks. (6/1. I
call these thistle-stalks for the want of a more correct name. I
believe it is a species of Eryngium.) The strange aspect of this
mountain is contrasted by the sea-like plain, which not only
abuts against its steep sides, but likewise separates the
parallel ranges. The uniformity of the colouring gives an extreme
quietness to the view;--the whitish grey of the quartz rock, and
the light brown of the withered grass of the plain, being
unrelieved by any brighter tint. From custom one expects to see
in the neighbourhood of a lofty and bold mountain a broken
country strewed over with huge fragments. Here Nature shows that
the last movement before the bed of the sea is changed into dry
land may sometimes be one of tranquillity. Under these
circumstances I was curious to observe how far from the parent
rock any pebbles could be found. On the shores of Bahia Blanca,
and near the settlement, there were some of quartz, which
certainly must have come from this source: the distance is
forty-five miles.

The dew, which in the early part of the night wetted the
saddle-cloths under which we slept, was in the morning frozen.
The plain, though appearing horizontal, had insensibly sloped up
to a height of between 800 and 900 feet above the sea. In the
morning (9th of September) the guide told me to ascend the
nearest ridge, which he thought would lead me to the four peaks
that crown the summit. The climbing up such rough rocks was very
fatiguing; the sides were so indented, that what was gained in
one five minutes was often lost in the next. At last, when I
reached the ridge, my disappointment was extreme in finding a
precipitous valley as deep as the plain, which cut the chain
traversely in two, and separated me from the four points. This
valley is very narrow, but flat-bottomed, and it forms a fine
horse-pass for the Indians, as it connects the plains on the
northern and southern sides of the range. Having descended, and
while crossing it, I saw two horses grazing: I immediately hid
myself in the long grass, and began to reconnoitre; but as I
could see no signs of Indians I proceeded cautiously on my second
ascent. It was late in the day, and this part of the mountain,
like the other, was steep and rugged. I was on the top of the
second peak by two o'clock, but got there with extreme
difficulty; every twenty yards I had the cramp in the upper part
of both thighs, so that I was afraid I should not have been able
to have got down again. It was also necessary to return by
another road, as it was out of the question to pass over the
saddle-back. I was therefore obliged to give up the two higher
peaks. Their altitude was but little greater, and every purpose
of geology had been answered; so that the attempt was not worth
the hazard of any further exertion. I presume the cause of the
cramp was the great change in the kind of muscular action, from
that of hard riding to that of still harder climbing. It is a
lesson worth remembering, as in some cases it might cause much
difficulty.

I have already said the mountain is composed of white quartz
rock, and with it a little glossy clay-slate is associated. At
the height of a few hundred feet above the plain, patches of
conglomerate adhered in several places to the solid rock. They
resembled in hardness, and in the nature of the cement, the
masses which may be seen daily forming on some coasts. I do not
doubt these pebbles were in a similar manner aggregated, at a
period when the great calcareous formation was depositing beneath
the surrounding sea. We may believe that the jagged and battered
forms of the hard quartz yet show the effects of the waves of an
open ocean.

I was, on the whole, disappointed with this ascent. Even the view
was insignificant;--a plain like the sea, but without its
beautiful colour and defined outline. The scene, however, was
novel, and a little danger, like salt to meat, gave it a relish.
That the danger was very little was certain, for my two
companions made a good fire--a thing which is never done when it
is suspected that Indians are near. I reached the place of our
bivouac by sunset, and drinking much mat, and smoking several
cigaritos, soon made up my bed for the night. The wind was very
strong and cold, but I never slept more comfortably.

SEPTEMBER 10, 1833.

In the morning, having fairly scudded before the gale, we arrived
by the middle of the day at the Sauce posta. On the road we saw
great numbers of deer, and near the mountain a guanaco. The
plain, which abuts against the Sierra, is traversed by some
curious gulleys, of which one was about twenty feet wide, and at
least thirty deep; we were obliged in consequence to make a
considerable circuit before we could find a pass. We stayed the
night at the posta, the conversation, as was generally the case,
being about the Indians. The Sierra Ventana was formerly a great
place of resort; and three or four years ago there was much
fighting there. My guide had been present when many Indians were
killed: the women escaped to the top of the ridge, and fought
most desperately with great stones; many thus saving themselves.

SEPTEMBER 11, 1833.

Proceeded to the third posta in company with the lieutenant who
commanded it. The distance is called fifteen leagues; but it is
only guess-work, and is generally overstated. The road was
uninteresting, over a dry grassy plain; and on our left hand at a
greater or less distance there were some low hills; a
continuation of which we crossed close to the posta. Before our
arrival we met a large herd of cattle and horses, guarded by
fifteen soldiers; but we were told many had been lost. It is very
difficult to drive animals across the plains; for if in the night
a puma, or even a fox, approaches, nothing can prevent the horses
dispersing in every direction; and a storm will have the same
effect. A short time since, an officer left Buenos Ayres with
five hundred horses, and when he arrived at the army he had under
twenty.

Soon afterwards we perceived by the cloud of dust, that a party
of horsemen were coming towards us; when far distant my
companions knew them to be Indians, by their long hair streaming
behind their backs. The Indians generally have a fillet round
their heads, but never any covering; and their black hair blowing
across their swarthy faces, heightens to an uncommon degree the
wildness of their appearance. They turned out to be a party of
Bernantio's friendly tribe, going to a salina for salt. The
Indians eat much salt, their children sucking it like sugar. This
habit is very different from that of the Spanish Gauchos, who,
leading the same kind of life, eat scarcely any: according to
Mungo Park, it is people who live on vegetable food who have an
unconquerable desire for salt. (6/2. "Travels in Africa" page
233.) The Indians gave us good-humoured nods as they passed at
full gallop, driving before them a troop of horses, and followed
by a train of lanky dogs.

SEPTEMBER 12 AND 13, 1833.

I stayed at this posta two days, waiting for a troop of soldiers,
which General Rosas had the kindness to send to inform me would
shortly travel to Buenos Ayres; and he advised me to take the
opportunity of the escort. In the morning we rode to some
neighbouring hills to view the country, and to examine the
geology. After dinner the soldiers divided themselves into two
parties for a trial of skill with the bolas. Two spears were
stuck in the ground twenty-five yards apart, but they were struck
and entangled only once in four or five times. The balls can be
thrown fifty or sixty yards, but with little certainty. This,
however, does not apply to a man on horseback; for when the speed
of the horse is added to the force of the arm, it is said that
they can be whirled with effect to the distance of eighty yards.
As a proof of their force, I may mention, that at the Falkland
Islands, when the Spaniards murdered some of their own countrymen
and all the Englishmen, a young friendly Spaniard was running
away, when a great tall man, by name Luciano, came at full gallop
after him, shouting to him to stop, and saying that he only
wanted to speak to him. Just as the Spaniard was on the point of
reaching the boat, Luciano threw the balls: they struck him on
the legs with such a jerk, as to throw him down and to render him
for some time insensible. The man, after Luciano had had his
talk, was allowed to escape. He told us that his legs were marked
by great weals, where the thong had wound round, as if he had
been flogged with a whip. In the middle of the day two men
arrived, who brought a parcel from the next posta to be forwarded
to the general: so that besides these two, our party consisted
this evening of my guide and self, the lieutenant, and his four
soldiers. The latter were strange beings; the first a fine young
negro; the second half Indian and negro; and the two others
nondescripts; namely, an old Chilian miner, the colour of
mahogany, and another partly a mulatto; but two such mongrels,
with such detestable expressions, I never saw before. At night,
when they were sitting round the fire, and playing at cards, I
retired to view such a Salvator Rosa scene. They were seated
under a low cliff, so that I could look down upon them; around
the party were lying dogs, arms, remnants of deer and ostriches;
and their long spears were stuck in the turf. Farther in the dark
background their horses were tied up, ready for any sudden
danger. If the stillness of the desolate plain was broken by one
of the dogs barking, a soldier, leaving the fire, would place his
head close to the ground, and thus slowly scan the horizon. Even
if the noisy teru-tero uttered its scream, there would be a pause
in the conversation, and every head, for a moment, a little
inclined.

What a life of misery these men appear to us to lead! They were
at least ten leagues from the Sauce posta, and since the murder
committed by the Indians, twenty from another. The Indians are
supposed to have made their attack in the middle of the night;
for very early in the morning after the murder, they were luckily
seen approaching this posta. The whole party here, however,
escaped, together with the troop of horses; each one taking a
line for himself, and driving with him as many animals as he was
able to manage.

The little hovel, built of thistle-stalks, in which they slept,
neither kept out the wind nor rain; indeed in the latter case the
only effect the roof had, was to condense it into larger drops.
They had nothing to eat excepting what they could catch, such as
ostriches, deer, armadilloes, etc., and their only fuel was the
dry stalks of a small plant, somewhat resembling an aloe. The
sole luxury which these men enjoyed was smoking the little paper
cigars, and sucking mat. I used to think that the carrion
vultures, man's constant attendants on these dreary plains, while
seated on the little neighbouring cliffs, seemed by their very
patience to say, "Ah! when the Indians come we shall have a
feast."

(PLATE 25.  MAT POTS AND BAMBILLIO.)

In the morning we all sallied forth to hunt, and although we had
not much success, there were some animated chases. Soon after
starting the party separated, and so arranged their plans, that
at a certain time of the day (in guessing which they show much
skill) they should all meet from different points of the compass
on a plain piece of ground, and thus drive together the wild
animals. One day I went out hunting at Bahia Blanca, but the men
there merely rode in a crescent, each being about a quarter of a
mile apart from the other. A fine male ostrich being turned by
the headmost riders, tried to escape on one side. The Gauchos
pursued at a reckless pace, twisting their horses about with the
most admirable command, and each man whirling the balls round his
head. At length the foremost threw them, revolving through the
air: in an instant the ostrich rolled over and over, its legs
fairly lashed together by the thong.

The plains abound with three kinds of partridge, two of which are
as large as hen pheasants. (6/3. Two species of Tinamus and
Eudromia elegans of A. d'Orbigny, which can only be called a
partridge with regard to its habits.) Their destroyer, a small
and pretty fox, was also singularly numerous; in the course of
the day we could not have seen less than forty or fifty. They
were generally near their earths, but the dogs killed one. When
we returned to the posta, we found two of the party returned who
had been hunting by themselves. They had killed a puma, and had
found an ostrich's nest with twenty-seven eggs in it. Each of
these is said to equal in weight eleven hens' eggs; so that we
obtained from this one nest as much food as 297 hens' eggs would
have given.

SEPTEMBER 14, 1833.

As the soldiers belonging to the next posta meant to return, and
we should together make a party of five, and all armed, I
determined not to wait for the expected troops. My host, the
lieutenant, pressed me much to stop. As he had been very
obliging--not only providing me with food, but lending me his
private horses--I wanted to make him some remuneration. I asked
my guide whether I might do so, but he told me certainly not;
that the only answer I should receive probably would be, "We have
meat for the dogs in our country, and therefore do not grudge it
to a Christian." It must not be supposed that the rank of
lieutenant in such an army would at all prevent the acceptance of
payment: it was only the high sense of hospitality, which every
traveller is bound to acknowledge as nearly universal throughout
these provinces. After galloping some leagues, we came to a low
swampy country, which extends for nearly eighty miles northward,
as far as the Sierra Tapalguen. In some parts there were fine
damp plains, covered with grass, while others had a soft, black,
and peaty soil. There were also many extensive but shallow lakes,
and large beds of reeds. The country on the whole resembled the
better parts of the Cambridgeshire fens. At night we had some
difficulty in finding, amidst the swamps, a dry place for our
bivouac.

SEPTEMBER 15, 1833.

Rose very early in the morning, and shortly after passed the
posta where the Indians had murdered the five soldiers. The
officer had eighteen chuzo wounds in his body. By the middle of
the day, after a hard gallop, we reached the fifth posta: on
account of some difficulty in procuring horses we stayed there
the night. As this point was the most exposed on the whole line,
twenty-one soldiers were stationed here; at sunset they returned
from hunting, bringing with them seven deer, three ostriches, and
many armadilloes and partridges. When riding through the country,
it is a common practice to set fire to the plain; and hence at
night, as on this occasion, the horizon was illuminated in
several places by brilliant conflagrations. This is done partly
for the sake of puzzling any stray Indians, but chiefly for
improving the pasture. In grassy plains unoccupied by the larger
ruminating quadrupeds, it seems necessary to remove the
superfluous vegetation by fire, so as to render the new year's
growth serviceable.

The rancho at this place did not boast even of a roof, but merely
consisted of a ring of thistle-stalks, to break the force of the
wind. It was situated on the borders of an extensive but shallow
lake, swarming with wild fowl, among which the black-necked swan
was conspicuous.

The kind of plover which appears as if mounted on stilts
(Himantopus nigricollis), is here common in flocks of
considerable size. It has been wrongfully accused of inelegance;
when wading about in shallow water, which is its favourite
resort, its gait is far from awkward. These birds in a flock
utter a noise, that singularly resembles the cry of a pack of
small dogs in full chase: waking in the night, I have more than
once been for a moment startled at the distant sound. The
teru-tero (Vanellus cayanus) is another bird which often disturbs
the stillness of the night. In appearance and habits it resembles
in many respects our peewits; its wings, however, are armed with
sharp spurs, like those on the legs of the common cock. As our
peewit takes its name from the sound of its voice, so does the
teru-tero. While riding over the grassy plains, one is constantly
pursued by these birds, which appear to hate mankind, and I am
sure deserve to be hated for their never-ceasing, unvaried, harsh
screams. To the sportsman they are most annoying, by telling
every other bird and animal of his approach: to the traveller in
the country they may possibly, as Molina says, do good, by
warning him of the midnight robber. During the breeding season,
they attempt, like our peewits, by feigning to be wounded, to
draw away from their nests dogs and other enemies. The eggs of
this bird are esteemed a great delicacy.

SEPTEMBER 16, 1833.

To the seventh posta at the foot of the Sierra Tapalguen. The
country was quite level, with a coarse herbage and a soft peaty
soil. The hovel was here remarkably neat, the posts and rafters
being made of about a dozen dry thistle-stalks bound together
with thongs of hide; and by the support of these Ionic-like
columns, the roof and sides were thatched with reeds. We were
here told a fact, which I would not have credited, if I had not
had partly ocular proof of it; namely, that, during the previous
night, hail as large as small apples, and extremely hard, had
fallen with such violence as to kill the greater number of the
wild animals. One of the men had already found thirteen deer
(Cervus campestris) lying dead, and I saw their FRESH hides;
another of the party, a few minutes after my arrival, brought in
seven more. Now I well know, that one man without dogs could
hardly have killed seven deer in a week. The men believed they
had seen about fifteen dead ostriches (part of one of which we
had for dinner); and they said that several were running about
evidently blind in one eye. Numbers of smaller birds, as ducks,
hawks, and partridges, were killed. I saw one of the latter with
a black mark on its back, as if it had been struck with a
paving-stone. A fence of thistle-stalks round the hovel was
nearly broken down, and my informer, putting his head out to see
what was the matter, received a severe cut, and now wore a
bandage. The storm was said to have been of limited extent: we
certainly saw from our last night's bivouac a dense cloud and
lightning in this direction. It is marvellous how such strong
animals as deer could thus have been killed; but I have no doubt,
from the evidence I have given, that the story is not in the
least exaggerated. I am glad, however, to have its credibility
supported by the Jesuit Dobrizhoffen, who, speaking of a country
much to the northward, says, hail fell of an enormous size and
killed vast numbers of cattle (6/4. "History of the Abipones"
volume 2 page 6.): the Indians hence called the place
Lalegraicavalca, meaning "the little white things." Dr.
Malcolmson, also, informs me that he witnessed in 1831 in India a
hail-storm, which killed numbers of large birds and much injured
the cattle. These hail-stones were flat, and one was ten inches
in circumference, and another weighed two ounces. They ploughed
up a gravel-walk like musket-balls, and passed through
glass-windows, making round holes, but not cracking them.

Having finished our dinner of hail-stricken meat, we crossed the
Sierra Tapalguen; a low range of hills, a few hundred feet in
height, which commences at Cape Corrientes. The rock in this part
is pure quartz; farther eastward I understand it is granitic. The
hills are of a remarkable form; they consist of flat patches of
table-land, surrounded by low perpendicular cliffs, like the
outliers of a sedimentary deposit. The hill which I ascended was
very small, not above a couple of hundred yards in diameter; but
I saw others larger. One which goes by the name of the "Corral,"
is said to be two or three miles in diameter, and encompassed by
perpendicular cliffs between thirty and forty feet high,
excepting at one spot, where the entrance lies. Falconer gives a
curious account of the Indians driving troops of wild horses into
it, and then by guarding the entrance keeping them secure. (6/5.
Falconer's "Patagonia" page 70.) I have never heard of any other
instance of table-land in a formation of quartz, and which, in
the hill I examined, had neither cleavage nor stratification. I
was told that the rock of the "Corral" was white, and would
strike fire.

We did not reach the posta on the Rio Tapalguen till after it was
dark. At supper, from something which was said, I was suddenly
struck with horror at thinking that I was eating one of the
favourite dishes of the country, namely, a half formed calf, long
before its proper time of birth. It turned out to be Puma; the
meat is very white, and remarkably like veal in taste. Dr. Shaw
was laughed at for stating that "the flesh of the lion is in
great esteem, having no small affinity with veal, both in colour,
taste, and flavour." Such certainly is the case with the Puma.
The Gauchos differ in their opinion whether the Jaguar is good
eating, but are unanimous in saying that cat is excellent.

SEPTEMBER 17, 1833.

We followed the course of the Rio Tapalguen, through a very
fertile country, to the ninth posta. Tapalguen itself, or the
town of Tapalguen, if it may be so called, consists of a
perfectly level plain, studded over, as far as the eye can reach,
with the toldos, or oven-shaped huts of the Indians. The families
of the friendly Indians, who were fighting on the side of Rosas,
resided here. We met and passed many young Indian women, riding
by two or three together on the same horse: they, as well as many
of the young men, were strikingly handsome,--their fine ruddy
complexions being the picture of health. Besides the toldos,
there were three ranchos; one inhabited by the Commandant, and
the two others by Spaniards with small shops.

We were here able to buy some biscuit. I had now been several
days without tasting anything besides meat: I did not at all
dislike this new regimen; but I felt as if it would only have
agreed with me with hard exercise. I have heard that patients in
England, when desired to confine themselves exclusively to an
animal diet, even with the hope of life before their eyes, have
hardly been able to endure it. Yet the Gaucho in the Pampas, for
months together, touches nothing but beef. But they eat, I
observe, a very large proportion of fat, which is of a less
animalised nature; and they particularly dislike dry meat, such
as that of the Agouti. Dr. Richardson, also, has remarked, "that
when people have fed for a long time solely upon lean animal
food, the desire for fat becomes so insatiable, that they can
consume a large quantity of unmixed and even oily fat without
nausea" (6/6. "Fauna Boreali-Americana" volume 1 page 35.): this
appears to me a curious physiological fact. It is, perhaps, from
their meat regimen that the Gauchos, like other carnivorous
animals, can abstain long from food. I was told that at Tandeel
some troops voluntarily pursued a party of Indians for three
days, without eating or drinking.

We saw in the shops many articles, such as horsecloths, belts,
and garters, woven by the Indian women. The patterns were very
pretty, and the colours brilliant; the workmanship of the garters
was so good that an English merchant at Buenos Ayres maintained
they must have been manufactured in England, till he found the
tassels had been fastened by split sinew.

SEPTEMBER 18, 1833.

We had a very long ride this day. At the twelfth posta, which is
seven leagues south of the Rio Salado, we came to the first
estancia with cattle and white women. Afterwards we had to ride
for many miles through a country flooded with water above our
horses' knees. By crossing the stirrups, and riding Arab-like
with our legs bent up, we contrived to keep tolerably dry. It was
nearly dark when we arrived at the Salado; the stream was deep,
and about forty yards wide; in summer, however, its bed becomes
almost dry, and the little remaining water nearly as salt as that
of the sea. We slept at one of the great estancias of General
Rosas. It was fortified, and of such an extent, that arriving in
the dark I thought it was a town and fortress. In the morning we
saw immense herds of cattle, the general here having seventy-four
square leagues of land. Formerly nearly three hundred men were
employed about this estate, and they defied all the attacks of
the Indians.

SEPTEMBER 19, 1833.

Passed the Guardia del Monte. This is a nice scattered little
town, with many gardens, full of peach and quince trees. The
plain here looked like that around Buenos Ayres; the turf being
short and bright green, with beds of clover and thistles, and
with bizcacha holes. I was very much struck with the marked
change in the aspect of the country after having crossed the
Salado. From a coarse herbage we passed on to a carpet of fine
green verdure. I at first attributed this to some change in the
nature of the soil, but the inhabitants assured me that here, as
well as in Banda Oriental, where there is as great a difference
between the country around Monte Video and the thinly-inhabited
savannahs of Colonia, the whole was to be attributed to the
manuring and grazing of the cattle. Exactly the same fact has
been observed in the prairies of North America, where coarse
grass, between five and six feet high, when grazed by cattle,
changes into common pasture land. (6/7. See Mr. Atwater's
"Account of the Prairies" in "Silliman's North American Journal"
volume 1 page 117.) I am not botanist enough to say whether the
change here is owing to the introduction of new species, to the
altered growth of the same, or to a difference in their
proportional numbers. Azara has also observed with astonishment
this change: he is likewise much perplexed by the immediate
appearance of plants not occurring in the neighbourhood, on the
borders of any track that leads to a newly-constructed hovel. In
another part he says, "Ces chevaux (sauvages) ont la manie de
prfrer les chemins, et le bord des routes pour dposer leurs
excrmens, dont on trouve des monceaux dans ces endroits." (6/8.
Azara's "Voyage" volume 1 page 373.) Does this not partly explain
the circumstance? We thus have lines of richly manured land
serving as channels of communication across wide districts.

(PLATE 26.  GIANT THISTLE OF PAMPAS.)

(PLATE 27.  CYNARA CARDUNCULUS OR CARDOON.)

Near the Guardia we find the southern limit of two European
plants, now become extraordinarily common. The fennel in great
profusion covers the ditch-banks in the neighbourhood of Buenos
Ayres, Monte Video, and other towns. But the cardoon (Cynara
cardunculus) has a far wider range: it occurs in these latitudes
on both sides of the Cordillera, across the continent. (6/9. M.
A. d'Orbigny volume 1 page 474, says that the cardoon and
artichoke are both found wild. Dr. Hooker "Botanical Magazine"
volume 40 page 2862, has described a variety of the Cynara from
this part of South America under the name of inermis. He states
that botanists are now generally agreed that the cardoon and the
artichoke are varieties of one plant. I may add, that an
intelligent farmer assured me that he had observed in a deserted
garden some artichokes changing into the common cardoon. Dr.
Hooker believes that Head's vivid description of the thistle of
the Pampas applies to the cardoon, but this is a mistake. Captain
Head referred to the plant which I have mentioned a few lines
lower down under the title of giant thistle. Whether it is a true
thistle, I do not know; but it is quite different from the
cardoon; and more like a thistle properly so called.) I saw it in
unfrequented spots in Chile, Entre Rios, and Banda Oriental. In
the latter country alone, very many (probably several hundred)
square miles are covered by one mass of these prickly plants, and
are impenetrable by man or beast. Over the undulating plains,
where these great beds occur, nothing else can now live. Before
their introduction, however, the surface must have supported, as
in other parts, a rank herbage. I doubt whether any case is on
record of an invasion on so grand a scale of one plant over the
aborigines. As I have already said, I nowhere saw the cardoon
south of the Salado; but it is probable that in proportion as
that country becomes inhabited, the cardoon will extend its
limits. The case is different with the giant thistle (with
variegated leaves) of the Pampas, for I met with it in the valley
of the Sauce. According to the principles so well laid down by
Mr. Lyell, few countries have undergone more remarkable changes,
since the year 1535, when the first colonist of La Plata landed
with seventy-two horses. The countless herds of horses, cattle,
and sheep, not only have altered the whole aspect of the
vegetation, but they have almost banished the guanaco, deer, and
ostrich. Numberless other changes must likewise have taken place;
the wild pig in some parts probably replaces the peccari; packs
of wild dogs may be heard howling on the wooded banks of the
less-frequented streams; and the common cat, altered into a large
and fierce animal, inhabits rocky hills. As M. d'Orbigny has
remarked, the increase in numbers of the carrion-vulture, since
the introduction of the domestic animals, must have been
infinitely great; and we have given reasons for believing that
they have extended their southern range. No doubt many plants,
besides the cardoon and fennel, are naturalised; thus the islands
near the mouth of the Parana are thickly clothed with peach and
orange trees, springing from seeds carried there by the waters of
the river.

While changing horses at the Guardia several people questioned us
much about the army,--I never saw anything like the enthusiasm
for Rosas, and for the success of the "most just of all wars,
because against barbarians." This expression, it must be
confessed, is very natural, for till lately, neither man, woman,
nor horse was safe from the attacks of the Indians. We had a long
day's ride over the same rich green plain, abounding with various
flocks, and with here and there a solitary estancia, and its one
ombu tree. In the evening it rained heavily: on arriving at a
post-house we were told by the owner that if we had not a regular
passport we must pass on, for there were so many robbers he would
trust no one. When he read, however, my passport, which began
with "El Naturalista Don Carlos," his respect and civility were
as unbounded as his suspicions had been before. What a naturalist
might be, neither he nor his countrymen, I suspect, had any idea;
but probably my title lost nothing of its value from that cause.

SEPTEMBER 20, 1833.

We arrived by the middle of the day at Buenos Ayres. The
outskirts of the city looked quite pretty, with the agave hedges,
and groves of olive, peach and willow trees, all just throwing
out their fresh green leaves. I rode to the house of Mr. Lumb, an
English merchant, to whose kindness and hospitality, during my
stay in the country, I was greatly indebted.

The city of Buenos Ayres is large; and I should think one of the
most regular in the world. (6/10. It is said to contain 60,000
inhabitants. Monte Video, the second town of importance on the
banks of the Plata, has 15,000.) Every street is at right angles
to the one it crosses, and the parallel ones being equidistant,
the houses are collected into solid squares of equal dimensions,
which are called quadras. On the other hand, the houses
themselves are hollow squares; all the rooms opening into a neat
little courtyard. They are generally only one story high, with
flat roofs, which are fitted with seats, and are much frequented
by the inhabitants in summer. In the centre of the town is the
Plaza, where the public offices, fortress, cathedral, etc.,
stand. Here also, the old viceroys, before the revolution, had
their palaces. The general assemblage of buildings possesses
considerable architectural beauty, although none individually can
boast of any.

The great corral, where the animals are kept for slaughter to
supply food to this beef-eating population, is one of the
spectacles best worth seeing. The strength of the horse as
compared to that of the bullock is quite astonishing: a man on
horseback having thrown his lazo round the horns of a beast, can
drag it anywhere he chooses. The animal ploughing up the ground
with outstretched legs, in vain efforts to resist the force,
generally dashes at full speed to one side; but the horse,
immediately turning to receive the shock, stands so firmly that
the bullock is almost thrown down, and it is surprising that
their necks are not broken. The struggle is not, however, one of
fair strength; the horse's girth being matched against the
bullock's extended neck. In a similar manner a man can hold the
wildest horse, if caught with the lazo, just behind the ears.
When the bullock has been dragged to the spot where it is to be
slaughtered, the matador with great caution cuts the hamstrings.
Then is given the death bellow; a noise more expressive of fierce
agony than any I know. I have often distinguished it from a long
distance, and have always known that the struggle was then
drawing to a close. The whole sight is horrible and revolting:
the ground is almost made of bones; and the horses and riders are
drenched with gore.

(PLATE 28.  EVENING CAMP, BUENOS AYRES.)


CHAPTER VII.

(PLATE 29.  ROZARIO.)

Excursion to St. F.
Thistle Beds.
Habits of the Bizcacha.
Little Owl.
Saline Streams.
Level Plains.
Mastodon.
St. F.
Change in Landscape.
Geology.
Tooth of extinct Horse.
Relation of the Fossil and recent Quadrupeds of North and South
America.
Effects of a great Drought.
Parana.
Habits of the Jaguar.
Scissor-beak.
Kingfisher, Parrot, and Scissor-tail.
Revolution.
Buenos Ayres.
State of Government.

BUENOS AYRES TO ST. F.

SEPTEMBER 27, 1833.

In the evening I set out on an excursion to St. F, which is
situated nearly three hundred English miles from Buenos Ayres, on
the banks of the Parana. The roads in the neighbourhood of the
city, after the rainy weather, were extraordinarily bad. I should
never have thought it possible for a bullock waggon to have
crawled along: as it was, they scarcely went at the rate of a
mile an hour, and a man was kept ahead, to survey the best line
for making the attempt. The bullocks were terribly jaded: it is a
great mistake to suppose that with improved roads, and an
accelerated rate of travelling, the sufferings of the animals
increase in the same proportion. We passed a train of waggons and
a troop of beasts on their road to Mendoza. The distance is about
580 geographical miles, and the journey is generally performed in
fifty days. These waggons are very long, narrow, and thatched
with reeds; they have only two wheels, the diameter of which in
some cases is as much as ten feet. Each is drawn by six bullocks,
which are urged on by a goad at least twenty feet long: this is
suspended from within the roof; for the wheel bullocks a smaller
one is kept; and for the intermediate pair, a point projects at
right angles from the middle of the long one. The whole apparatus
looked like some implement of war.

SEPTEMBER 28, 1833.

We passed the small town of Luxan, where there is a wooden bridge
over the river--a most unusual convenience in this country. We
passed also Areco. The plains appeared level, but were not so in
fact; for in various places the horizon was distant. The
estancias are here wide apart; for there is little good pasture,
owing to the land being covered by beds either of an acrid
clover, or of the great thistle. The latter, well known from the
animated description given by Sir F. Head, were at this time of
the year two-thirds grown; in some parts they were as high as the
horse's back, but in others they had not yet sprung up, and the
ground was bare and dusty as on a turnpike-road. The clumps were
of the most brilliant green, and they made a pleasing
miniature-likeness of broken forest land. When the thistles are
full grown, the great beds are impenetrable, except by a few
tracks, as intricate as those in a labyrinth. These are only
known to the robbers, who at this season inhabit them, and sally
forth at night to rob and cut throats with impunity. Upon asking
at a house whether robbers were numerous, I was answered, "The
thistles are not up yet;"--the meaning of which reply was not at
first very obvious. There is little interest in passing over
these tracts, for they are inhabited by few animals or birds,
excepting the bizcacha and its friend the little owl.

The bizcacha is well known to form a prominent feature in the
zoology of the Pampas. (7/1. The bizcacha (Lagostomus
trichodactylus) somewhat resembles a large rabbit, but with
bigger gnawing teeth and a long tail; it has, however, only three
toes behind, like the agouti. During the last three or four years
the skins of these animals have been sent to England for the sake
of the fur.) It is found as far south as the Rio Negro, in
latitude 41 degrees, but not beyond. It cannot, like the agouti,
subsist on the gravelly and desert plains of Patagonia, but
prefers a clayey or sandy soil, which produces a different and
more abundant vegetation. Near Mendoza, at the foot of the
Cordillera, it occurs in close neighbourhood with the allied
alpine species. It is a very curious circumstance in its
geographical distribution, that it has never been seen,
fortunately for the inhabitants of Banda Oriental, to the
eastward of the river Uruguay: yet in this province there are
plains which appear admirably adapted to its habits. The Uruguay
has formed an insuperable obstacle to its migration: although the
broader barrier of the Parana has been passed, and the bizcacha
is common in Entre Rios, the province between these two great
rivers. Near Buenos Ayres these animals are exceedingly common.
Their most favourite resort appears to be those parts of the
plain which during one-half of the year are covered with giant
thistles, to the exclusion of other plants. The Gauchos affirm
that it lives on roots; which, from the great strength of its
gnawing teeth, and the kind of places frequented by it, seems
probable. In the evening the bizcachas come out in numbers, and
quietly sit at the mouths of their burrows on their haunches. At
such times they are very tame, and a man on horseback passing by
seems only to present an object for their grave contemplation.
They run very awkwardly, and when running out of danger, from
their elevated tails and short front legs, much resemble great
rats. Their flesh, when cooked, is very white and good, but it is
seldom used.

The bizcacha has one very singular habit; namely, dragging every
hard object to the mouth of its burrow: around each group of
holes many bones of cattle, stones, thistle-stalks, hard lumps of
earth, dry dung, etc., are collected into an irregular heap,
which frequently amounts to as much as a wheelbarrow would
contain. I was credibly informed that a gentleman, when riding on
a dark night, dropped his watch; he returned in the morning, and
by searching the neighbourhood of every bizcacha hole on the line
of road, as he expected, he soon found it. This habit of picking
up whatever may be lying on the ground anywhere near its
habitation must cost much trouble. For what purpose it is done, I
am quite unable to form even the most remote conjecture: it
cannot be for defence, because the rubbish is chiefly placed
above the mouth of the burrow, which enters the ground at a very
small inclination. No doubt there must exist some good reason;
but the inhabitants of the country are quite ignorant of it. The
only fact which I know analogous to it, is the habit of that
extraordinary Australian bird, the Calodera maculata, which makes
an elegant vaulted passage of twigs for playing in, and which
collects near the spot land and sea-shells, bones, and the
feathers of birds, especially brightly coloured ones. Mr. Gould,
who has described these facts, informs me, that the natives, when
they lose any hard object, search the playing passages, and he
has known a tobacco-pipe thus recovered.

The little owl (Athene cunicularia), which has been so often
mentioned, on the plains of Buenos Ayres exclusively inhabits the
holes of the bizcacha; but in Banda Oriental it is its own
workman. During the open day, but more especially in the evening,
these birds may be seen in every direction standing frequently by
pairs on the hillock near their burrows. If disturbed they either
enter the hole, or, uttering a shrill harsh cry, move with a
remarkably undulatory flight to a short distance, and then
turning round, steadily gaze at their pursuer. Occasionally in
the evening they may be heard hooting. I found in the stomachs of
two which I opened the remains of mice, and I one day saw a small
snake killed and carried away. It is said that snakes are their
common prey during the daytime. I may here mention, as showing on
what various kinds of food owls subsist, that a species killed
among the islets of the Chonos Archipelago had its stomach full
of good-sized crabs. In India there is a fishing genus of owls,
which likewise catches crabs. (7/2. "Journal of Asiatic Soc."
volume 5 page 363.)

In the evening we crossed the Rio Arrecife on a simple raft made
of barrels lashed together, and slept at the post-house on the
other side. I this day paid horse-hire for thirty-one leagues;
and although the sun was glaring hot I was but little fatigued.
When Captain Head talks of riding fifty leagues a day, I do not
imagine the distance is equal to 150 English miles. At all
events, the thirty-one leagues was only 76 miles in a straight
line, and in an open country I should think four additional miles
for turnings would be a sufficient allowance.

SEPTEMBER 29 AND 30, 1833.

(PLATE 30.  PARANA RIVER.)

We continued to ride over plains of the same character. At San
Nicolas I first saw the noble river of the Parana. At the foot of
the cliff on which the town stands, some large vessels were at
anchor. Before arriving at Rozario, we crossed the Saladillo, a
stream of fine clear running water, but too saline to drink.
Rozario is a large town built on a dead level plain, which forms
a cliff about sixty feet high over the Parana. The river here is
very broad, with many islands, which are low and wooded, as is
also the opposite shore. The view would resemble that of a great
lake, if it were not for the linear-shaped islets, which alone
give the idea of running water. The cliffs are the most
picturesque part; sometimes they are absolutely perpendicular,
and of a red colour; at other times in large broken masses,
covered with cacti and mimosa-trees. The real grandeur, however,
of an immense river like this is derived from reflecting how
important a means of communication and commerce it forms between
one nation and another; to what a distance it travels, and from
how vast a territory it drains the great body of fresh water
which flows past your feet.

For many leagues north and south of San Nicolas and Rozario, the
country is really level. Scarcely anything which travellers have
written about its extreme flatness can be considered as
exaggeration. Yet I could never find a spot where, by slowly
turning round, objects were not seen at greater distances in some
directions than in others; and this manifestly proves inequality
in the plain. At sea, a person's eye being six feet above the
surface of the water, his horizon is two miles and four-fifths
distant. In like manner, the more level the plain, the more
nearly does the horizon approach within these narrow limits; and
this, in my opinion, entirely destroys that grandeur which one
would have imagined that a vast level plain would have possessed.

(PLATE 31.  TOXODON PLATENSIS. (FOUND AT SALADILLO.))

OCTOBER 1, 1833.

We started by moonlight and arrived at the Rio Tercero by
sunrise. This river is also called the Saladillo, and it deserves
the name, for the water is brackish. I stayed here the greater
part of the day, searching for fossil bones. Besides a perfect
tooth of the Toxodon, and many scattered bones, I found two
immense skeletons near each other, projecting in bold relief from
the perpendicular cliff of the Parana. They were, however, so
completely decayed, that I could only bring away small fragments
of one of the great molar teeth; but these are sufficient to show
that the remains belonged to a Mastodon, probably to the same
species with that which formerly must have inhabited the
Cordillera in Upper Peru in such great numbers. The men who took
me in the canoe said they had long known of these skeletons, and
had often wondered how they had got there: the necessity of a
theory being felt, they came to the conclusion that, like the
bizcacha, the mastodon was formerly a burrowing animal! In the
evening we rode another stage, and crossed the Monge, another
brackish stream, bearing the dregs of the washings of the Pampas.

OCTOBER 2, 1833.

We passed through Corunda, which, from the luxuriance of its
gardens, was one of the prettiest villages I saw. From this point
to St. F the road is not very safe. The western side of the
Parana northward ceases to be inhabited; and hence the Indians
sometimes come down thus far, and waylay travellers. The nature
of the country also favours this, for instead of a grassy plain,
there is an open woodland, composed of low prickly mimosas. We
passed some houses that had been ransacked and since deserted; we
saw also a spectacle, which my guides viewed with high
satisfaction; it was the skeleton of an Indian with the dried
skin hanging on the bones, suspended to the branch of a tree.

In the morning we arrived at St. F. I was surprised to observe
how great a change of climate a difference of only three degrees
of latitude between this place and Buenos Ayres had caused. This
was evident from the dress and complexion of the men--from the
increased size of the ombu-trees--the number of new cacti and
other plants--and especially from the birds. In the course of an
hour I remarked half-a-dozen birds, which I had never seen at
Buenos Ayres. Considering that there is no natural boundary
between the two places, and that the character of the country is
nearly similar, the difference was much greater than I should
have expected.

OCTOBER 3 AND 4, 1833.

I was confined for these two days to my bed by a headache. A
good-natured old woman, who attended me, wished me to try many
odd remedies. A common practice is, to bind an orange-leaf or a
bit of black plaster to each temple: and a still more general
plan is, to split a bean into halves, moisten them, and place one
on each temple, where they will easily adhere. It is not thought
proper ever to remove the beans or plaster, but to allow them to
drop off, and sometimes, if a man, with patches on his head, is
asked, what is the matter? he will answer, "I had a headache the
day before yesterday." Many of the remedies used by the people of
the country are ludicrously strange, but too disgusting to be
mentioned. One of the least nasty is to kill and cut open two
puppies and bind them on each side of a broken limb. Little
hairless dogs are in great request to sleep at the feet of
invalids.

St. F is a quiet little town, and is kept clean and in good
order. The governor, Lopez, was a common soldier at the time of
the revolution; but has now been seventeen years in power. This
stability of government is owing to his tyrannical habits; for
tyranny seems as yet better adapted to these countries than
republicanism. The governor's favourite occupation is hunting
Indians: a short time since he slaughtered forty-eight, and sold
the children at the rate of three or four pounds apiece.

OCTOBER 5, 1833.

We crossed the Parana to St. F Bajada, a town on the opposite
shore. The passage took some hours, as the river here consisted
of a labyrinth of small streams, separated by low wooded islands.
I had a letter of introduction to an old Catalonian Spaniard, who
treated me with the most uncommon hospitality. The Bajada is the
capital of Entre Rios. In 1825 the town contained 6000
inhabitants, and the province 30,000; yet, few as the inhabitants
are, no province has suffered more from bloody and desperate
revolutions. They boast here of representatives, ministers, a
standing army, and governors: so it is no wonder that they have
their revolutions. At some future day this must be one of the
richest countries of La Plata. The soil is varied and productive;
and its almost insular form gives it two grand lines of
communication by the rivers Parana and Uruguay.

I was delayed here five days, and employed myself in examining
the geology of the surrounding country, which was very
interesting. We here see at the bottom of the cliffs, beds
containing sharks' teeth and sea-shells of extinct species,
passing above into an indurated marl, and from that into the red
clayey earth of the Pampas, with its calcareous concretions and
the bones of terrestrial quadrupeds. This vertical section
clearly tells us of a large bay of pure salt-water, gradually
encroached on, and at last converted into the bed of a muddy
estuary, into which floating carcasses were swept. At Punta
Gorda, in Banda Oriental, I found an alternation of the Pampaean
estuary deposit, with a limestone containing some of the same
extinct sea-shells; and this shows either a change in the former
currents, or more probably an oscillation of level in the bottom
of the ancient estuary. Until lately, my reasons for considering
the Pampaean formation to be an estuary deposit were, its general
appearance, its position at the mouth of the existing great river
the Plata, and the presence of so many bones of terrestrial
quadrupeds: but now Professor Ehrenberg has had the kindness to
examine for me a little of the red earth, taken from low down in
the deposit, close to the skeletons of the mastodon, and he finds
in it many infusoria, partly salt-water and partly fresh-water
forms, with the latter rather preponderating; and therefore, as
he remarks, the water must have been brackish. M. A. d'Orbigny
found on the banks of the Parana, at the height of a hundred
feet, great beds of an estuary shell, now living a hundred miles
lower down nearer the sea; and I found similar shells at a less
height on the banks of the Uruguay; this shows that just before
the Pampas was slowly elevated into dry land, the water covering
it was brackish. Below Buenos Ayres there are upraised beds of
sea-shells of existing species, which also proves that the period
of elevation of the Pampas was within the recent period.

In the Pampaean deposit at the Bajada I found the osseous armour
of a gigantic armadillo-like animal, the inside of which, when
the earth was removed, was like a great cauldron; I found also
teeth of the Toxodon and Mastodon, and one tooth of a Horse, in
the same stained and decayed state. This latter tooth greatly
interested me, and I took scrupulous care in ascertaining that it
had been embedded contemporaneously with the other remains; for I
was not then aware that amongst the fossils from Bahia Blanca
there was a horse's tooth hidden in the matrix: nor was it then
known with certainty that the remains of horses are common in
North America. (7/3. I need hardly state here that there is good
evidence against any horse living in America at the time of
Columbus.) Mr. Lyell has lately brought from the United States a
tooth of a horse; and it is an interesting fact, that Professor
Owen could find in no species, either fossil or recent, a slight
but peculiar curvature characterising it, until he thought of
comparing it with my specimen found here: he has named this
American horse Equus curvidens. Certainly it is a marvellous fact
in the history of the Mammalia, that in South America a native
horse should have lived and disappeared, to be succeeded in after
ages by the countless herds descended from the few introduced
with the Spanish colonists!

(PLATE 32.  FOSSIL TOOTH OF HORSE, FROM BAHIA BLANCA.)

The existence in South America of a fossil horse, of the
mastodon, possibly of an elephant (7/4. Cuvier "Ossemens Fossils"
tome 1 page 158.), and of a hollow-horned ruminant, discovered by
MM. Lund and Clausen in the caves of Brazil, are highly
interesting facts with respect to the geographical distribution
of animals. At the present time, if we divide America, not by the
Isthmus of Panama, but by the southern part of Mexico in latitude
20 degrees, where the great table-land presents an obstacle to
the migration of species, by affecting the climate, and by
forming, with the exception of some valleys and of a fringe of
low land on the coast, a broad barrier; we shall then have the
two zoological provinces of North and South America strongly
contrasted with each other. (7/5. This is the geographical
division followed by Lichtenstein, Swainson, Erichson, and
Richardson. The section from Vera Cruz to Acapulco, given by
Humboldt in the "Polit. Essay on Kingdom of N. Spain" will show
how immense a barrier the Mexican table-land forms. Dr.
Richardson, in his admirable "Report on the Zoology of N.
America" read before the British Association 1836 page 157,
talking of the identification of a Mexican animal with the
Synetheres prehensilis, says, "We do not know with what
propriety, but if correct, it is, if not a solitary instance, at
least very nearly so, of a rodent animal being common to North
and South America.") Some few species alone have passed the
barrier, and may be considered as wanderers from the south, such
as the puma, opossum, kinkajou, and peccari. South America is
characterised by possessing many peculiar gnawers, a family of
monkeys, the llama, peccari, tapir, opossums, and, especially,
several genera of Edentata, the order which includes the sloths,
ant-eaters, and armadilloes. North America, on the other hand, is
characterised (putting on one side a few wandering species) by
numerous peculiar gnawers, and by four genera (the ox, sheep,
goat, and antelope) of hollow-horned ruminants, of which great
division South America is not known to possess a single species.
Formerly, but within the period when most of the now existing
shells were living, North America possessed, besides
hollow-horned ruminants, the elephant, mastodon, horse, and three
genera of Edentata, namely, the Megatherium, Megalonyx, and
Mylodon. Within nearly this same period (as proved by the shells
at Bahia Blanca) South America possessed, as we have just seen, a
mastodon, horse, hollow-horned ruminant, and the same three
genera (as well as several others) of the Edentata. Hence it is
evident that North and South America, in having within a late
geological period these several genera in common, were much more
closely related in the character of their terrestrial inhabitants
than they now are. The more I reflect on this case, the more
interesting it appears: I know of no other instance where we can
almost mark the period and manner of the splitting up of one
great region into two well-characterised zoological provinces.
The geologist, who is fully impressed with the vast oscillations
of level which have affected the earth's crust within late
periods, will not fear to speculate on the recent elevation of
the Mexican platform, or, more probably, on the recent
submergence of land in the West Indian Archipelago, as the cause
of the present zoological separation of North and South America.
The South American character of the West Indian mammals seems to
indicate that this archipelago was formerly united to the
southern continent, and that it has subsequently been an area of
subsidence. (7/6. See Dr. Richardson's "Report" page 157; also
"L'Institut" 1837 page 253. Cuvier says the kinkajou is found in
the larger Antilles, but this is doubtful. M. Gervais states that
the Didelphis crancrivora is found there. It is certain that the
West Indies possess some mammifers peculiar to themselves. A
tooth of a mastodon has been brought from Bahama; "Edinburgh New
Philosophical Journal" 1826 page 395.)

(PLATE 33.  MYLODON. Height, 7 feet 6 inches; girth round chest,
6 feet 6 inches; maximum breadth of pelvis, 3 feet 7 inches.)

When America, and especially North America, possessed its
elephants, mastodons, horse, and hollow-horned ruminants, it was
much more closely related in its zoological characters to the
temperate parts of Europe and Asia than it now is. As the remains
of these genera are found on both sides of Behring's Straits and
on the plains of Siberia, we are led to look to the north-western
side of North America as the former point of communication
between the Old and so-called New World. (7/7. See the admirable
Appendix by Dr. Buckland to Beechey's "Voyage"; also the writings
of Chamisso in Kotzebue's "Voyage.") And as so many species, both
living and extinct, of these same genera inhabit and have
inhabited the Old World, it seems most probable that the North
American elephants, mastodons, horse, and hollow-horned ruminants
migrated, on land since submerged near Behring's Straits, from
Siberia into North America, and thence, on land since submerged
in the West Indies, into South America, where for a time they
mingled with the forms characteristic of that southern continent,
and have since become extinct.

While travelling through the country, I received several vivid
descriptions of the effects of a late great drought; and the
account of this may throw some light on the cases where vast
numbers of animals of all kinds have been embedded together. The
period included between the years 1827 and 1830 is called the
"gran seco," or the great drought. During this time so little
rain fell, that the vegetation, even to the thistles, failed; the
brooks were dried up, and the whole country assumed the
appearance of a dusty high-road. This was especially the case in
the northern part of the province of Buenos Ayres and the
southern part of St. F. Very great numbers of birds, wild
animals, cattle, and horses perished from the want of food and
water. A man told me that the deer used to come into his
courtyard to the well, which he had been obliged to dig to supply
his own family with water; and that the partridges had hardly
strength to fly away when pursued. (7/8. In Captain Owen's
"Surveying Voyage" volume 2 page 274, there is a curious account
of the effects of a drought on the elephants, at Benguela (west
coast of Africa). "A number of these animals had some time since
entered the town, in a body, to possess themselves of the wells,
not being able to procure any water in the country. The
inhabitants mustered, when a desperate conflict ensued, which
terminated in the ultimate discomfiture of the invaders, but not
until they had killed one man, and wounded several others." The
town is said to have a population of nearly three thousand! Dr.
Malcolmson informs me, that during a great drought in India the
wild animals entered the tents of some troops at Ellore, and that
a hare drank out of a vessel held by the adjutant of the
regiment.) The lowest estimation of the loss of cattle in the
province of Buenos Ayres alone, was taken at one million head. A
proprietor at San Pedro had previously to these years 20,000
cattle; at the end not one remained. San Pedro is situated in the
middle of the finest country; and even now abounds again with
animals; yet during the latter part of the "gran seco," live
cattle were brought in vessels for the consumption of the
inhabitants. The animals roamed from their estancias, and,
wandering far southward, were mingled together in such
multitudes, that a government commission was sent from Buenos
Ayres to settle the disputes of the owners. Sir Woodbine Parish
informed me of another and very curious source of dispute; the
ground being so long dry, such quantities of dust were blown
about, that in this open country the landmarks became
obliterated, and people could not tell the limits of their
estates.

I was informed by an eye-witness that the cattle in herds of
thousands rushed into the Parana, and being exhausted by hunger
they were unable to crawl up the muddy banks, and thus were
drowned. The arm of the river which runs by San Pedro was so full
of putrid carcasses, that the master of a vessel told me that the
smell rendered it quite impassable. Without doubt several hundred
thousand animals thus perished in the river: their bodies when
putrid were seen floating down the stream; and many in all
probability were deposited in the estuary of the Plata. All the
small rivers became highly saline, and this caused the death of
vast numbers in particular spots; for when an animal drinks of
such water it does not recover. Azara describes the fury of the
wild horses on a similar occasion, rushing into the marshes,
those which arrived first being overwhelmed and crushed by those
which followed. (7/9. "Travels" volume 1 page 374.) He adds that
more than once he has seen the carcasses of upwards of a thousand
wild horses thus destroyed. I noticed that the smaller streams in
the Pampas were paved with a breccia of bones, but this probably
is the effect of a gradual increase, rather than of the
destruction at any one period. Subsequently to the drought of
1827 to 1832, a very rainy season followed which caused great
floods. Hence it is almost certain that some thousands of the
skeletons were buried by the deposits of the very next year. What
would be the opinion of a geologist, viewing such an enormous
collection of bones, of all kinds of animals and of all ages,
thus embedded in one thick earthy mass? Would he not attribute it
to a flood having swept over the surface of the land, rather than
to the common order of things? (7/10. These droughts to a certain
degree seem to be almost periodical; I was told the dates of
several others, and the intervals were about fifteen years.)

OCTOBER 12, 1833.

I had intended to push my excursion farther, but not being quite
well, I was compelled to return by a balandra, or one-masted
vessel of about a hundred tons' burden, which was bound to Buenos
Ayres. As the weather was not fair, we moored early in the day to
a branch of a tree on one of the islands. The Parana is full of
islands, which undergo a constant round of decay and renovation.
In the memory of the master several large ones had disappeared,
and others again had been formed and protected by vegetation.
They are composed of muddy sand, without even the smallest
pebble, and were then about four feet above the level of the
river; but during the periodical floods they are inundated. They
all present one character; numerous willows and a few other trees
are bound together by a great variety of creeping plants, thus
forming a thick jungle. These thickets afford a retreat for
capybaras and jaguars. The fear of the latter animal quite
destroyed all pleasure in scrambling through the woods. This
evening I had not proceeded a hundred yards, before, finding
indubitable signs of the recent presence of the tiger, I was
obliged to come back. On every island there were tracks; and as
on the former excursion "el rastro de los Indios" had been the
subject of conversation, so in this was "el rastro del tigre."

The wooded banks of the great rivers appear to be the favourite
haunts of the jaguar; but south of the Plata, I was told that
they frequented the reeds bordering lakes: wherever they are,
they seem to require water. Their common prey is the capybara, so
that it is generally said, where capybaras are numerous there is
little danger from the jaguar. Falconer states that near the
southern side of the mouth of the Plata there are many jaguars,
and that they chiefly live on fish; this account I have heard
repeated. On the Parana they have killed many wood-cutters, and
have even entered vessels at night. There is a man now living in
the Bajada, who, coming up from below when it was dark, was
seized on the deck; he escaped, however, with the loss of the use
of one arm. When the floods drive these animals from the islands,
they are most dangerous. I was told that a few years since a very
large one found its way into a church at St. F: two padres
entering one after the other were killed, and a third, who came
to see what was the matter, escaped with difficulty. The beast
was destroyed by being shot from a corner of the building which
was unroofed. They commit also at these times great ravages among
cattle and horses. It is said that they kill their prey by
breaking their necks. If driven from the carcass, they seldom
return to it. The Gauchos say that the jaguar, when wandering
about at night, is much tormented by the foxes yelping as they
follow him. This is a curious coincidence with the fact which is
generally affirmed of the jackals accompanying, in a similarly
officious manner, the East Indian tiger. The jaguar is a noisy
animal, roaring much by night, and especially before bad weather.

One day, when hunting on the banks of the Uruguay, I was shown
certain trees, to which these animals constantly recur for the
purpose, as it is said, of sharpening their claws. I saw three
well-known trees; in front, the bark was worn smooth, as if by
the breast of the animal, and on each side there were deep
scratches, or rather grooves, extending in an oblique line,
nearly a yard in length. The scars were of different ages. A
common method of ascertaining whether a jaguar is in the
neighbourhood is to examine these trees. I imagine this habit of
the jaguar is exactly similar to one which may any day be seen in
the common cat, as with outstretched legs and exserted claws it
scrapes the leg of a chair; and I have heard of young fruit-trees
in an orchard in England having been thus much injured. Some such
habit must also be common to the puma, for on the bare hard soil
of Patagonia I have frequently seen scores so deep that no other
animal could have made them. The object of this practice is, I
believe, to tear off the ragged points of their claws, and not,
as the Gauchos think, to sharpen them. The jaguar is killed,
without much difficulty, by the aid of dogs baying and driving
him up a tree, where he is despatched with bullets.

Owing to bad weather we remained two days at our moorings. Our
only amusement was catching fish for our dinner: there were
several kinds, and all good eating. A fish called the "armado" (a
Silurus) is remarkable from a harsh grating noise which it makes
when caught by hook and line, and which can be distinctly heard
when the fish is beneath the water. This same fish has the power
of firmly catching hold of any object, such as the blade of an
oar or the fishing-line, with the strong spine both of its
pectoral and dorsal fin. In the evening the weather was quite
tropical, the thermometer standing at 79 degrees. Numbers of
fireflies were hovering about, and the musquitoes were very
troublesome. I exposed my hand for five minutes, and it was soon
black with them; I do not suppose there could have been less than
fifty, all busy sucking.

OCTOBER 15, 1833.

(PLATE 34.  HEAD OF SCISSOR-BEAK.)

(PLATE 35.  RHYNCHOPS NIGRA, OR SCISSOR-BEAK.)

We got under way and passed Punta Gorda, where there is a colony
of tame Indians from the province of Missiones. We sailed rapidly
down the current, but before sunset, from a silly fear of bad
weather, we brought-to in a narrow arm of the river. I took the
boat and rowed some distance up this creek. It was very narrow,
winding, and deep; on each side a wall thirty or forty feet high,
formed by trees intwined with creepers, gave to the canal a
singularly gloomy appearance. I here saw a very extraordinary
bird, called the Scissor-beak (Rhynchops nigra). It has short
legs, web feet, extremely long-pointed wings, and is of about the
size of a tern. The beak is flattened laterally, that is, in a
plane at right angles to that of a spoonbill or duck. It is as
flat and elastic as an ivory paper-cutter, and the lower
mandible, differently from every other bird, is an inch and a
half longer than the upper. In a lake near Maldonado, from which
the water had been nearly drained, and which, in consequence,
swarmed with small fry, I saw several of these birds, generally
in small flocks, flying rapidly backwards and forwards close to
the surface of the lake. They kept their bills wide open, and the
lower mandible half buried in the water. Thus skimming the
surface, they ploughed it in their course: the water was quite
smooth, and it formed a most curious spectacle to behold a flock,
each bird leaving its narrow wake on the mirror-like surface. In
their flight they frequently twist about with extreme quickness,
and dexterously manage with their projecting lower mandible to
plough up small fish, which are secured by the upper and shorter
half of their scissor-like bills. This fact I repeatedly saw, as,
like swallows, they continued to fly backwards and forwards close
before me. Occasionally when leaving the surface of the water
their flight was wild, irregular, and rapid; they then uttered
loud harsh cries. When these birds are fishing, the advantage of
the long primary feathers of their wings, in keeping them dry, is
very evident. When thus employed, their forms resemble the symbol
by which many artists represent marine birds. Their tails are
much used in steering their irregular course.

These birds are common far inland along the course of the Rio
Parana; it is said that they remain here during the whole year,
and breed in the marshes. During the day they rest in flocks on
the grassy plains, at some distance from the water. Being at
anchor, as I have said, in one of the deep creeks between the
islands of the Parana, as the evening drew to a close, one of
these scissor-beaks suddenly appeared. The water was quite still,
and many little fish were rising. The bird continued for a long
time to skim the surface, flying in its wild and irregular manner
up and down the narrow canal, now dark with the growing night and
the shadows of the overhanging trees. At Monte Video, I observed
that some large flocks during the day remained on the mud-banks
at the head of the harbour, in the same manner as on the grassy
plains near the Parana; and every evening they took flight
seaward. From these facts I suspect that the Rhynchops generally
fishes by night, at which time many of the lower animals come
most abundantly to the surface. M. Lesson states that he has seen
these birds opening the shells of the mactrae buried in the
sand-banks on the coast of Chile: from their weak bills, with the
lower mandible so much projecting, their short legs and long
wings, it is very improbable that this can be a general habit.

In our course down the Parana, I observed only three other birds,
whose habits are worth mentioning. One is a small kingfisher
(Ceryle Americana); it has a longer tail than the European
species, and hence does not sit in so stiff and upright a
position. Its flight also, instead of being direct and rapid,
like the course of an arrow, is weak and undulatory, as among the
soft-billed birds. It utters a low note, like the clicking
together of two small stones. A small green parrot (Conurus
murinus), with a grey breast, appears to prefer the tall trees on
the islands to any other situation for its building-place. A
number of nests are placed so close together as to form one great
mass of sticks. These parrots always live in flocks, and commit
great ravages on the corn-fields. I was told that near Colonia
2500 were killed in the course of one year. A bird with a forked
tail, terminated by two long feathers (Tyrannus savana), and
named by the Spaniards scissor-tail, is very common near Buenos
Ayres: it commonly sits on a branch of the ombu tree, near a
house, and thence takes a short flight in pursuit of insects, and
returns to the same spot. When on the wing it presents in its
manner of flight and general appearance a caricature-likeness of
the common swallow. It has the power of turning very shortly in
the air, and in so doing opens and shuts its tail, sometimes in a
horizontal or lateral and sometimes in a vertical direction, just
like a pair of scissors.

OCTOBER 16, 1833.

Some leagues below Rozario, the western shore of the Parana is
bounded by perpendicular cliffs, which extend in a long line to
below San Nicolas; hence it more resembles a sea-coast than that
of a fresh-water river. It is a great drawback to the scenery of
the Parana, that, from the soft nature of its banks, the water is
very muddy. The Uruguay, flowing through a granitic country, is
much clearer; and where the two channels unite at the head of the
Plata, the waters may for a long distance be distinguished by
their black and red colours. In the evening, the wind being not
quite fair, as usual we immediately moored, and the next day, as
it blew rather freshly, though with a favouring current, the
master was much too indolent to think of starting. At Bajada, he
was described to me as "hombre muy aflicto"--a man always
miserable to get on; but certainly he bore all delays with
admirable resignation. He was an old Spaniard, and had been many
years in this country. He professed a great liking to the
English, but stoutly maintained that the battle of Trafalgar was
merely won by the Spanish captains having been all bought over;
and that the only really gallant action on either side was
performed by the Spanish admiral. It struck me as rather
characteristic, that this man should prefer his countrymen being
thought the worst of traitors, rather than unskilful or cowardly.

OCTOBER 18 AND 19, 1833.

We continued slowly to sail down the noble stream: the current
helped us but little. We met, during our descent, very few
vessels. One of the best gifts of nature, in so grand a channel
of communication, seems here wilfully thrown away--a river in
which ships might navigate from a temperate country, as
surprisingly abundant in certain productions as destitute of
others, to another possessing a tropical climate, and a soil
which, according to the best of judges, M. Bonpland, is perhaps
unequalled in fertility in any part of the world. How different
would have been the aspect of this river if English colonists had
by good fortune first sailed up the Plata! What noble towns would
now have occupied its shores! Till the death of Francia, the
Dictator of Paraguay, these two countries must remain distinct,
as if placed on opposite sides of the globe. And when the old
bloody-minded tyrant is gone to his long account, Paraguay will
be torn by revolutions, violent in proportion to the previous
unnatural calm. That country will have to learn, like every other
South American state, that a republic cannot succeed till it
contains a certain body of men imbued with the principles of
justice and honour.

OCTOBER 20, 1833.

Being arrived at the mouth of the Parana, and as I was very
anxious to reach Buenos Ayres, I went on shore at Las Conchas,
with the intention of riding there. Upon landing, I found to my
great surprise that I was to a certain degree a prisoner. A
violent revolution having broken out, all the ports were laid
under an embargo. I could not return to my vessel, and as for
going by land to the city, it was out of the question. After a
long conversation with the commandant, I obtained permission to
go the next day to General Rolor, who commanded a division of the
rebels on this side the capital. In the morning I rode to the
encampment. The general, officers, and soldiers, all appeared,
and I believe really were, great villains. The general, the very
evening before he left the city, voluntarily went to the
Governor, and with his hand to his heart, pledged his word of
honour that he at least would remain faithful to the last. The
general told me that the city was in a state of close blockade,
and that all he could do was to give me a passport to the
commander-in-chief of the rebels at Quilmes. We had therefore to
take a great sweep round the city, and it was with much
difficulty that we procured horses. My reception at the
encampment was quite civil, but I was told it was impossible that
I could be allowed to enter the city. I was very anxious about
this, as I anticipated the "Beagle's" departure from the Rio
Plata earlier than it took place. Having mentioned, however,
General Rosas's obliging kindness to me when at the Colorado,
magic itself could not have altered circumstances quicker than
did this conversation. I was instantly told that though they
could not give me a passport, if I chose to leave my guide and
horses, I might pass their sentinels. I was too glad to accept of
this, and an officer was sent with me to give directions that I
should not be stopped at the bridge. The road for the space of a
league was quite deserted. I met one party of soldiers, who were
satisfied by gravely looking at an old passport: and at length I
was not a little pleased to find myself within the city.

This revolution was supported by scarcely any pretext of
grievances: but in a state which, in the course of nine months
(from February to October, 1820), underwent fifteen changes in
its government--each governor, according to the constitution,
being elected for three years--it would be very unreasonable to
ask for pretexts. In this case, a party of men--who, being
attached to Rosas, were disgusted with the governor Balcarce--to
the number of seventy left the city, and with the cry of Rosas
the whole country took arms. The city was then blockaded, no
provisions, cattle or horses, were allowed to enter; besides
this, there was only a little skirmishing, and a few men daily
killed. The outside party well knew that by stopping the supply
of meat they would certainly be victorious. General Rosas could
not have known of this rising; but it appears to be quite
consonant with the plans of his party. A year ago he was elected
governor, but he refused it, unless the Sala would also confer on
him extraordinary powers. This was refused, and since then his
party have shown that no other governor can keep his place. The
warfare on both sides was avowedly protracted till it was
possible to hear from Rosas. A note arrived a few days after I
left Buenos Ayres, which stated that the General disapproved of
peace having been broken, but that he thought the outside party
had justice on their side. On the bare reception of this the
Governor, ministers, and part of the military, to the number of
some hundreds, fled from the city. The rebels entered, elected a
new governor, and were paid for their services to the number of
5500 men. From these proceedings, it was clear that Rosas
ultimately would become the dictator: to the term king, the
people in this, as in other republics, have a particular dislike.
Since leaving South America, we have heard that Rosas has been
elected, with powers and for a time altogether opposed to the
constitutional principles of the republic.

(PLATE 36.  BUENOS AYRES BULLOCK-WAGGONS.)


CHAPTER VIII.

(PLATE 37.  FUEGIANS AND WIGWAMS.)

Excursion to Colonia del Sacramiento.
Value of an Estancia.
Cattle, how counted.
Singular Breed of Oxen.
Perforated Pebbles.
Shepherd-dogs.
Horses broken-in, Gauchos Riding.
Character of Inhabitants.
Rio Plata.
Flocks of Butterflies.
Aeronaut Spiders.
Phosphorescence of the Sea.
Port Desire.
Guanaco.
Port St. Julian.
Geology of Patagonia.
Fossil gigantic Animal.
Types of Organisation constant.
Change in the Zoology of America.
Causes of Extinction.

BANDA ORIENTAL AND PATAGONIA.

Having been delayed for nearly a fortnight in the city, I was
glad to escape on board a packet bound for Monte Video. A town in
a state of blockade must always be a disagreeable place of
residence; in this case moreover there were constant
apprehensions from robbers within. The sentinels were the worst
of all; for, from their office and from having arms in their
hands, they robbed with a degree of authority which other men
could not imitate.

Our passage was a very long and tedious one. The Plata looks like
a noble estuary on the map; but is in truth a poor affair. A wide
expanse of muddy water has neither grandeur nor beauty. At one
time of the day, the two shores, both of which are extremely low,
could just be distinguished from the deck. On arriving at Monte
Video I found that the "Beagle" would not sail for some time, so
I prepared for a short excursion in this part of Banda Oriental.
Everything which I have said about the country near Maldonado is
applicable to Monte Video; but the land, with the one exception
of the Green Mount, 450 feet high, from which it takes its name,
is far more level. Very little of the undulating grassy plain is
enclosed; but near the town there are a few hedge-banks, covered
with agaves, cacti, and fennel.

NOVEMBER 14, 1833.

We left Monte Video in the afternoon. I intended to proceed to
Colonia del Sacramiento, situated on the northern bank of the
Plata and opposite to Buenos Ayres, and thence, following up the
Uruguay, to the village of Mercedes on the Rio Negro (one of the
many rivers of this name in South America), and from this point
to return direct to Monte Video. We slept at the house of my
guide at Canelones. In the morning we rose early, in the hopes of
being able to ride a good distance; but it was a vain attempt,
for all the rivers were flooded. We passed in boats the streams
of Canelones, St. Lucia, and San Jos, and thus lost much time.
On a former excursion I crossed the Lucia near its mouth, and I
was surprised to observe how easily our horses, although not used
to swim, passed over a width of at least six hundred yards. On
mentioning this at Monte Video, I was told that a vessel
containing some mountebanks and their horses, being wrecked in
the Plata, one horse swam seven miles to the shore. In the course
of the day I was amused by the dexterity with which a Gaucho
forced a restive horse to swim a river. He stripped off his
clothes, and jumping on its back, rode into the water till it was
out of its depth; then slipping off over the crupper, he caught
hold of the tail, and as often as the horse turned round the man
frightened it back by splashing water in its face. As soon as the
horse touched the bottom on the other side, the man pulled
himself on, and was firmly seated, bridle in hand, before the
horse gained the bank. A naked man on a naked horse is a fine
spectacle; I had no idea how well the two animals suited each
other. The tail of a horse is a very useful appendage; I have
passed a river in a boat with four people in it, which was
ferried across in the same way as the Gaucho. If a man and horse
have to cross a broad river, the best plan is for the man to
catch hold of the pommel or mane, and help himself with the other
arm.

We slept and stayed the following day at the post of Cufre. In
the evening the postman or letter-carrier arrived. He was a day
after his time, owing to the Rio Rozario being flooded. It would
not, however, be of much consequence; for, although he had passed
through some of the principal towns in Banda Oriental, his
luggage consisted of two letters! The view from the house was
pleasing; an undulating green surface, with distant glimpses of
the Plata. I find that I look at this province with very
different eyes from what I did upon my first arrival. I recollect
I then thought it singularly level; but now, after galloping over
the Pampas, my only surprise is, what could have induced me ever
to have called it level. The country is a series of undulations,
in themselves perhaps not absolutely great, but, as compared to
the plains of St. F, real mountains. From these inequalities
there is an abundance of small rivulets, and the turf is green
and luxuriant.

NOVEMBER 17, 1833.

We crossed the Rozario, which was deep and rapid, and passing the
village of Colla, arrived at mid-day at Colonia del Sacramiento.
The distance is twenty leagues, through a country covered with
fine grass, but poorly stocked with cattle or inhabitants. I was
invited to sleep at Colonia, and to accompany on the following
day a gentleman to his estancia, where there were some limestone
rocks. The town is built on a stony promontory something in the
same manner as at Monte Video. It is strongly fortified, but both
fortifications and town suffered much in the Brazilian war. It is
very ancient; and the irregularity of the streets, and the
surrounding groves of old orange and peach trees, gave it a
pretty appearance. The church is a curious ruin; it was used as a
powder-magazine, and was struck by lightning in one of the ten
thousand thunderstorms of the Rio Plata. Two-thirds of the
building were blown away to the very foundation; and the rest
stands a shattered and curious monument of the united powers of
lightning and gunpowder. In the evening I wandered about the
half-demolished walls of the town. It was the chief seat of the
Brazilian war--a war most injurious to this country, not so much
in its immediate effects, as in being the origin of a multitude
of generals and all other grades of officers. More generals are
numbered (but not paid) in the United Provinces of La Plata than
in the United Kingdom of Great Britain. These gentlemen have
learned to like power, and do not object to a little skirmishing.
Hence there are many always on the watch to create disturbance
and to overturn a government which as yet has never rested on any
stable foundation. I noticed, however, both here and in other
places, a very general interest in the ensuing election for the
President; and this appears a good sign for the prosperity of
this little country. The inhabitants do not require much
education in their representatives; I heard some men discussing
the merits of those for Colonia; and it was said that, "although
they were not men of business, they could all sign their names:"
with this they seemed to think every reasonable man ought to be
satisfied.

NOVEMBER 18, 1833.

Rode with my host to his estancia, at the Arroyo de San Juan. In
the evening we took a ride round the estate: it contained two
square leagues and a half, and was situated in what is called a
rincon; that is, one side was fronted by the Plata, and the two
others guarded by impassable brooks. There was an excellent port
for little vessels, and an abundance of small wood, which is
valuable as supplying fuel to Buenos Ayres. I was curious to know
the value of so complete an estancia. Of cattle there were 3000,
and it would well support three or four times that number; of
mares 800, together with 150 broken-in horses, and 600 sheep.
There was plenty of water and limestone, a rough house, excellent
corrals, and a peach orchard. For all this he had been offered
2000 pounds sterling, and he only wanted 500 pounds sterling
additional, and probably would sell it for less. The chief
trouble with an estancia is driving the cattle twice a week to a
central spot, in order to make them tame, and to count them. This
latter operation would be thought difficult, where there are ten
or fifteen thousand head together. It is managed on the principle
that the cattle invariably divide themselves into little troops
of from forty to one hundred. Each troop is recognised by a few
peculiarly marked animals, and its number is known: so that, one
being lost out of ten thousand, it is perceived by its absence
from one of the tropillas. During a stormy night the cattle all
mingle together; but the next morning the tropillas separate as
before; so that each animal must know its fellow out of ten
thousand others.

On two occasions I met with in this province some oxen of a very
curious breed, called nta or niata. They appear externally to
hold nearly the same relation to other cattle, which bull or pug
dogs do to other dogs. Their forehead is very short and broad,
with the nasal end turned up, and the upper lip much drawn back;
their lower jaws project beyond the upper, and have a
corresponding upward curve; hence their teeth are always exposed.
Their nostrils are seated high up and are very open; their eyes
project outwards. When walking they carry their heads low, on a
short neck; and their hinder legs are rather longer compared with
the front legs than is usual. Their bare teeth, their short
heads, and upturned nostrils give them the most ludicrous
self-confident air of defiance imaginable.

Since my return, I have procured a skeleton head, through the
kindness of my friend Captain Sulivan, R.N., which is now
deposited in the College of Surgeons. (8/1. Mr. Waterhouse has
drawn up a detailed description of this head, which I hope he
will publish in some Journal.) Don F. Muniz, of Luxan, has kindly
collected for me all the information which he could respecting
this breed. From his account it seems that about eighty or ninety
years ago, they were rare and kept as curiosities at Buenos
Ayres. The breed is universally believed to have originated
amongst the Indians southward of the Plata; and that it was with
them the commonest kind. Even to this day, those reared in the
provinces near the Plata show their less civilised origin, in
being fiercer than common cattle, and in the cow easily deserting
her first calf, if visited too often or molested. It is a
singular fact that an almost similar structure to the abnormal
one of the niata breed, characterises, as I am informed by Dr.
Falconer, that great extinct ruminant of India, the Sivatherium.
(8/2. A nearly similar abnormal, but I do not know whether
hereditary, structure has been observed in the carp, and likewise
in the crocodile of the Ganges: "Histoire des Anomalies" par M.
Isid. Geoffroy St. Hilaire tome 1 page 244.) The breed is very
TRUE; and a niata bull and cow invariably produce niata calves. A
niata bull with a common cow, or the reverse cross, produces
offspring having an intermediate character, but with the niata
characters strongly displayed: according to Seor Muniz, there is
the clearest evidence, contrary to the common belief of
agriculturists in analogous cases, that the niata cow when
crossed with a common bull transmits her peculiarities more
strongly than the niata bull when crossed with a common cow. When
the pasture is tolerably long, the niata cattle feed with the
tongue and palate as well as common cattle; but during the great
droughts, when so many animals perish, the niata breed is under a
great disadvantage, and would be exterminated if not attended to;
for the common cattle, like horses, are able just to keep alive,
by browsing with their lips on twigs of trees and reeds; this the
niatas cannot so well do, as their lips do not join, and hence
they are found to perish before the common cattle. This strikes
me as a good illustration of how little we are able to judge from
the ordinary habits of life, on what circumstances, occurring
only at long intervals, the rarity or extinction of a species may
be determined.

NOVEMBER 19, 1833.

Passing the valley of Las Vacas, we slept at a house of a North
American, who worked a lime-kiln on the Arroyo de las Vivoras. In
the morning we rode to a projecting headland on the banks of the
river, called Punta Gorda. On the way we tried to find a jaguar.
There were plenty of fresh tracks, and we visited the trees on
which they are said to sharpen their claws; but we did not
succeed in disturbing one. From this point the Rio Uruguay
presented to our view a noble volume of water. From the clearness
and rapidity of the stream, its appearance was far superior to
that of its neighbour the Parana. On the opposite coast, several
branches from the latter river entered the Uruguay. As the sun
was shining, the two colours of the waters could be seen quite
distinct.

In the evening we proceeded on our road towards Mercedes on the
Rio Negro. At night we asked permission to sleep at an estancia
at which we happened to arrive. It was a very large estate, being
ten leagues square, and the owner is one of the greatest
landowners in the country. His nephew had charge of it, and with
him there was a captain in the army, who the other day ran away
from Buenos Ayres. Considering their station, their conversation
was rather amusing. They expressed, as was usual, unbounded
astonishment at the globe being round, and could scarcely credit
that a hole would, if deep enough, come out on the other side.
They had, however, heard of a country where there were six months
of light and six of darkness, and where the inhabitants were very
tall and thin! They were curious about the price and condition of
horses and cattle in England. Upon finding out we did not catch
our animals with the lazo, they cried out, "Ah, then, you use
nothing but the bolas:" the idea of an enclosed country was quite
new to them. The captain at last said, he had one question to ask
me, which he should be very much obliged if I would answer with
all truth. I trembled to think how deeply scientific it would be:
it was, "Whether the ladies of Buenos Ayres were not the
handsomest in the world." I replied, like a renegade, "Charmingly
so." He added, "I have one other question: Do ladies in any other
part of the world wear such large combs?" I solemnly assured him
that they did not. They were absolutely delighted. The captain
exclaimed, "Look there! a man who has seen half the world says it
is the case; we always thought so, but now we know it." My
excellent judgment in combs and beauty procured me a most
hospitable reception; the captain forced me to take his bed, and
he would sleep on his recado.

NOVEMBER 21, 1833.

Started at sunrise, and rode slowly during the whole day. The
geological nature of this part of the province was different from
the rest, and closely resembled that of the Pampas. In
consequence, there were immense beds of the thistle, as well as
of the cardoon: the whole country, indeed, may be called one
great bed of these plants. The two sorts grow separate, each
plant in company with its own kind. The cardoon is as high as a
horse's back, but the Pampas thistle is often higher than the
crown of the rider's head. To leave the road for a yard is out of
the question; and the road itself is partly, and in some cases
entirely, closed. Pasture, of course, there is none; if cattle or
horses once enter the bed, they are for the time completely lost.
Hence it is very hazardous to attempt to drive cattle at this
season of the year; for when jaded enough to face the thistles,
they rush among them, and are seen no more. In these districts
there are very few estancias, and these few are situated in the
neighbourhood of damp valleys, where fortunately neither of these
overwhelming plants can exist. As night came on before we arrived
at our journey's end, we slept at a miserable little hovel
inhabited by the poorest people. The extreme though rather formal
courtesy of our host and hostess, considering their grade of
life, was quite delightful.

NOVEMBER 22, 1833.

Arrived at an estancia on the Berquelo belonging to a very
hospitable Englishman, to whom I had a letter of introduction
from my friend Mr. Lumb. I stayed here three days. One morning I
rode with my host to the Sierra del Pedro Flaco, about twenty
miles up the Rio Negro. Nearly the whole country was covered with
good though coarse grass, which was as high as a horse's belly;
yet there were square leagues without a single head of cattle.
The province of Banda Oriental, if well stocked, would support an
astonishing number of animals, at present the annual export of
hides from Monte Video amounts to three hundred thousand; and the
home consumption, from waste, is very considerable. An estanciero
told me that he often had to send large herds of cattle a long
journey to a salting establishment, and that the tired beasts
were frequently obliged to be killed and skinned; but that he
could never persuade the Gauchos to eat of them, and every
evening a fresh beast was slaughtered for their suppers! The view
of the Rio Negro from the Sierra was more picturesque than any
other which I saw in this province. The river, broad, deep, and
rapid, wound at the foot of a rocky precipitous cliff: a belt of
wood followed its course, and the horizon terminated in the
distant undulations of the turf-plain.

When in this neighbourhood, I several times heard of the Sierra
de las Cuentas: a hill distant many miles to the northward. The
name signifies hill of beads. I was assured that vast numbers of
little round stones, of various colours, each with a small
cylindrical hole, are found there. Formerly the Indians used to
collect them, for the purpose of making necklaces and
bracelets--a taste, I may observe, which is common to all savage
nations, as well as to the most polished. I did not know what to
understand from this story, but upon mentioning it at the Cape of
Good Hope to Dr. Andrew Smith, he told me that he recollected
finding on the south-eastern coast of Africa, about one hundred
miles to the eastward of St. John's river, some quartz crystals
with their edges blunted from attrition, and mixed with gravel on
the sea-beach. Each crystal was about five lines in diameter, and
from an inch to an inch and a half in length. Many of them had a
small canal extending from one extremity to the other, perfectly
cylindrical, and of a size that readily admitted a coarse thread
or a piece of fine catgut. Their colour was red or dull white.
The natives were acquainted with this structure in crystals. I
have mentioned these circumstances because, although no
crystallised body is at present known to assume this form, it may
lead some future traveller to investigate the real nature of such
stones.

While staying at this estancia, I was amused with what I saw and
heard of the shepherd-dogs of the country. (8/3. M. A. d'Orbigny
has given nearly a similar account of these dogs, tome 1 page
175.) When riding, it is a common thing to meet a large flock of
sheep guarded by one or two dogs, at the distance of some miles
from any house or man. I often wondered how so firm a friendship
had been established. The method of education consists in
separating the puppy, while very young, from the bitch, and in
accustoming it to its future companions. An ewe is held three or
four times a day for the little thing to suck, and a nest of wool
is made for it in the sheep-pen; at no time is it allowed to
associate with other dogs, or with the children of the family.
The puppy is, moreover, generally castrated; so that, when grown
up, it can scarcely have any feelings in common with the rest of
its kind. From this education it has no wish to leave the flock,
and just as another dog will defend its master, man, so will
these the sheep. It is amusing to observe, when approaching a
flock, how the dog immediately advances barking, and the sheep
all close in his rear, as if round the oldest ram. These dogs are
also easily taught to bring home the flock at a certain hour in
the evening. Their most troublesome fault, when young, is their
desire of playing with the sheep; for in their sport they
sometimes gallop their poor subjects most unmercifully.

The shepherd-dog comes to the house every day for some meat, and
as soon as it is given him, he skulks away as if ashamed of
himself. On these occasions the house-dogs are very tyrannical,
and the least of them will attack and pursue the stranger. The
minute, however, the latter has reached the flock, he turns round
and begins to bark, and then all the house-dogs take very quickly
to their heels. In a similar manner a whole pack of the hungry
wild dogs will scarcely ever (and I was told by some never)
venture to attack a flock guarded by even one of these faithful
shepherds. The whole account appears to me a curious instance of
the pliability of the affections in the dog; and yet, whether
wild or however educated, he has a feeling of respect or fear for
those that are fulfilling their instinct of association. For we
can understand on no principle the wild dogs being driven away by
the single one with its flock, except that they consider, from
some confused notion, that the one thus associated gains power,
as if in company with its own kind. F. Cuvier has observed that
all animals that readily enter into domestication consider man as
a member of their own society, and thus fulfil their instinct of
association. In the above case the shepherd-dog ranks the sheep
as its fellow-brethren, and thus gains confidence; and the wild
dogs, though knowing that the individual sheep are not dogs, but
are good to eat, yet partly consent to this view when seeing them
in a flock with a shepherd-dog at their head.

One evening a "domidor" (a subduer of horses) came for the
purpose of breaking-in some colts. I will describe the
preparatory steps, for I believe they have not been mentioned by
other travellers. A troop of wild young horses is driven into the
corral, or large enclosure of stakes, and the door is shut. We
will suppose that one man alone has to catch and mount a horse,
which as yet had never felt bridle or saddle. I conceive, except
by a Gaucho, such a feat would be utterly impracticable. The
Gaucho picks out a full-grown colt; and as the beast rushes round
the circus, he throws his lazo so as to catch both the front
legs. Instantly the horse rolls over with a heavy shock, and
whilst struggling on the ground, the Gaucho, holding the lazo
tight, makes a circle, so as to catch one of the hind legs just
beneath the fetlock, and draws it close to the two front legs: he
then hitches the lazo, so that the three are bound together. Then
sitting on the horse's neck, he fixes a strong bridle, without a
bit, to the lower jaw: this he does by passing a narrow thong
through the eye-holes at the end of the reins, and several times
round both jaw and tongue. The two front legs are now tied
closely together with a strong leathern thong, fastened by a
slip-knot. The lazo, which bound the three together, being then
loosed, the horse rises with difficulty. The Gaucho, now holding
fast the bridle fixed to the lower jaw, leads the horse outside
the corral. If a second man is present (otherwise the trouble is
much greater) he holds the animal's head, whilst the first puts
on the horsecloths and saddle, and girths the whole together.
During this operation, the horse, from dread and astonishment at
thus being bound round the waist, throws himself over and over
again on the ground, and, till beaten, is unwilling to rise. At
last, when the saddling is finished, the poor animal can hardly
breathe from fear, and is white with foam and sweat. The man now
prepares to mount by pressing heavily on the stirrup, so that the
horse may not lose its balance; and at the moment that he throws
his leg over the animal's back, he pulls the slip-knot binding
the front legs, and the beast is free. Some "domidors" pull the
knot while the animal is lying on the ground, and, standing over
the saddle, allow him to rise beneath them. The horse, wild with
dread, gives a few most violent bounds, and then starts off at
full gallop: when quite exhausted, the man, by patience, brings
him back to the corral, where, reeking hot and scarcely alive,
the poor beast is let free. Those animals which will not gallop
away, but obstinately throw themselves on the ground, are by far
the most troublesome. This process is tremendously severe, but in
two or three trials the horse is tamed. It is not, however, for
some weeks that the animal is ridden with the iron bit and solid
ring, for it must learn to associate the will of its rider with
the feel of the rein, before the most powerful bridle can be of
any service.

Animals are so abundant in these countries, that humanity and
self-interest are not closely united; therefore I fear it is that
the former is here scarcely known. One day, riding in the Pampas
with a very respectable "Estanciero," my horse, being tired,
lagged behind. The man often shouted to me to spur him. When I
remonstrated that it was a pity, for the horse was quite
exhausted, he cried out, "Why not?--never mind--spur him--it is
MY horse." I had then some difficulty in making him comprehend
that it was for the horse's sake, and not on his account, that I
did not choose to use my spurs. He exclaimed, with a look of
great surprise, "Ah, Don Carlos, que cosa!" It was clear that
such an idea had never before entered his head.

The Gauchos are well known to be perfect riders. The idea of
being thrown, let the horse do what it likes; never enters their
head. Their criterion of a good rider is, a man who can manage an
untamed colt, or who, if his horse falls, alights on his own
feet, or can perform other such exploits. I have heard of a man
betting that he would throw his horse down twenty times, and that
nineteen times he would not fall himself. I recollect seeing a
Gaucho riding a very stubborn horse, which three times
successively reared so high as to fall backwards with great
violence. The man judged with uncommon coolness the proper moment
for slipping off, not an instant before or after the right time;
and as soon as the horse got up, the man jumped on his back, and
at last they started at a gallop. The Gaucho never appears to
exert any muscular force. I was one day watching a good rider, as
we were galloping along at a rapid pace, and thought to myself,
"Surely if the horse starts, you appear so careless on your seat,
you must fall." At this moment a male ostrich sprang from its
nest right beneath the horse's nose: the young colt bounded on
one side like a stag; but as for the man, all that could be said
was, that he started and took fright with his horse.

In Chile and Peru more pains are taken with the mouth of the
horse than in La Plata, and this is evidently a consequence of
the more intricate nature of the country. In Chile a horse is not
considered perfectly broken till he can be brought up standing,
in the midst of his full speed, on any particular spot,--for
instance, on a cloak thrown on the ground: or, again, he will
charge a wall, and rearing, scrape the surface with his hoofs. I
have seen an animal bounding with spirit, yet merely reined by a
forefinger and thumb, taken at full gallop across a courtyard,
and then made to wheel round the post of a veranda with great
speed, but at so equal a distance, that the rider, with
outstretched arm, all the while kept one finger rubbing the post.
Then making a demi-volte in the air, with the other arm
outstretched in a like manner, he wheeled round, with astonishing
force, in an opposite direction.

Such a horse is well broken; and although this at first may
appear useless, it is far otherwise. It is only carrying that
which is daily necessary into perfection. When a bullock is
checked and caught by the lazo, it will sometimes gallop round
and round in a circle, and the horse being alarmed at the great
strain, if not well broken, will not readily turn like the pivot
of a wheel. In consequence many men have been killed; for if the
lazo once takes a twist round a man's body, it will instantly,
from the power of the two opposed animals, almost cut him in
twain. On the same principle the races are managed; the course is
only two or three hundred yards long, the wish being to have
horses that can make a rapid dash. The racehorses are trained not
only to stand with their hoofs touching a line, but to draw all
four feet together, so as at the first spring to bring into play
the full action of the hind-quarters. In Chile I was told an
anecdote, which I believe was true; and it offers a good
illustration of the use of a well-broken animal. A respectable
man riding one day met two others, one of whom was mounted on a
horse, which he knew to have been stolen from himself. He
challenged them; they answered him by drawing their sabres and
giving chase. The man, on his good and fleet beast, kept just
ahead: as he passed a thick bush he wheeled round it, and brought
up his horse to a dead check. The pursuers were obliged to shoot
on one side and ahead. Then instantly dashing on, right behind
them, he buried his knife in the back of one, wounded the other,
recovered his horse from the dying robber, and rode home. For
these feats of horsemanship two things are necessary: a most
severe bit, like the Mameluke, the power of which, though seldom
used, the horse knows full well; and large blunt spurs, that can
be applied either as a mere touch, or as an instrument of extreme
pain. I conceive that with English spurs, the slightest touch of
which pricks the skin, it would be impossible to break in a horse
after the South American fashion.

At an estancia near Las Vacas large numbers of mares are weekly
slaughtered for the sake of their hides, although worth only five
paper dollars, or about half a crown apiece. It seems at first
strange that it can answer to kill mares for such a trifle; but
as it is thought ridiculous in this country ever to break in or
ride a mare, they are of no value except for breeding. The only
thing for which I ever saw mares used, was to tread out wheat
from the ear, for which purpose they were driven round a circular
enclosure, where the wheat-sheaves were strewed. The man employed
for slaughtering the mares happened to be celebrated for his
dexterity with the lazo. Standing at the distance of twelve yards
from the mouth of the corral, he has laid a wager that he would
catch by the legs every animal, without missing one, as it rushed
past him. There was another man who said he would enter the
corral on foot, catch a mare, fasten her front legs together,
drive her out, throw her down, kill, skin, and stake the hide for
drying (which latter is a tedious job); and he engaged that he
would perform this whole operation on twenty-two animals in one
day. Or he would kill and take the skin off fifty in the same
time. This would have been a prodigious task, for it is
considered a good day's work to skin and stake the hides of
fifteen or sixteen animals.

NOVEMBER 26, 1833.

I set out on my return in a direct line for Monte Video. Having
heard of some giant's bones at a neighbouring farmhouse on the
Sarandis, a small stream entering the Rio Negro, I rode there
accompanied by my host, and purchased for the value of
eighteenpence the head of the Toxodon. (8/4. I must express my
obligation to Mr. Keane, at whose house I was staying on the
Berquelo, and to Mr. Lumb at Buenos Ayres, for without their
assistance these valuable remains would never have reached
England.) When found it was quite perfect; but the boys knocked
out some of the teeth with stones, and then set up the head as a
mark to throw at. By a most fortunate chance I found a perfect
tooth, which exactly fitted one of the sockets in this skull,
embedded by itself on the banks of the Rio Tercero, at the
distance of about 180 miles from this place. I found remains of
this extraordinary animal at two other places, so that it must
formerly have been common. I found here, also, some large
portions of the armour of a gigantic armadillo-like animal, and
part of the great head of a Mylodon. The bones of this head are
so fresh, that they contain, according to the analysis by Mr. T.
Reeks, seven per cent of animal matter; and when placed in a
spirit-lamp, they burn with a small flame. The number of the
remains embedded in the grand estuary deposit which forms the
Pampas and covers the granitic rocks of Banda Oriental, must be
extraordinarily great. I believe a straight line drawn in any
direction through the Pampas would cut through some skeleton or
bones. Besides those which I found during my short excursions, I
heard of many others, and the origin of such names as "the stream
of the animal," "the hill of the giant," is obvious. At other
times I heard of the marvellous property of certain rivers, which
had the power of changing small bones into large; or, as some
maintained, the bones themselves grew. As far as I am aware, not
one of these animals perished, as was formerly supposed, in the
marshes or muddy river-beds of the present land, but their bones
have been exposed by the streams intersecting the subaqueous
deposit in which they were originally embedded. We may conclude
that the whole area of the Pampas is one wide sepulchre of these
extinct gigantic quadrupeds.

By the middle of the day, on the 28th, we arrived at Monte Video,
having been two days and a half on the road. The country for the
whole way was of a very uniform character, some parts being
rather more rocky and hilly than near the Plata. Not far from
Monte Video we passed through the village of Las Pietras, so
named from some large rounded masses of syenite. Its appearance
was rather pretty. In this country a few fig-trees round a group
of houses, and a site elevated a hundred feet above the general
level, ought always to be called picturesque.

During the last six months I have had an opportunity of seeing a
little of the character of the inhabitants of these provinces.
The Gauchos, or countrymen, are very superior to those who reside
in the towns. The Gaucho is invariably most obliging, polite, and
hospitable: I did not meet with even one instance of rudeness or
inhospitality. He is modest, both respecting himself and country,
but at the same time a spirited, bold fellow. On the other hand,
many robberies are committed, and there is much bloodshed: the
habit of constantly wearing the knife is the chief cause of the
latter. It is lamentable to hear how many lives are lost in
trifling quarrels. In fighting, each party tries to mark the face
of his adversary by slashing his nose or eyes; as is often
attested by deep and horrid-looking scars. Robberies are a
natural consequence of universal gambling, much drinking, and
extreme indolence. At Mercedes I asked two men why they did not
work. One gravely said the days were too long; the other that he
was too poor. The number of horses and the profusion of food are
the destruction of all industry. Moreover, there are so many
feast-days; and again, nothing can succeed without it be begun
when the moon is on the increase; so that half the month is lost
from these two causes.

Police and justice are quite inefficient. If a man who is poor
commits murder and is taken, he will be imprisoned, and perhaps
even shot; but if he is rich and has friends, he may rely on it
no very severe consequence will ensue. It is curious that the
most respectable inhabitants of the country invariably assist a
murderer to escape: they seem to think that the individual sins
against the government, and not against the people. A traveller
has no protection besides his firearms; and the constant habit of
carrying them is the main check to more frequent robberies.

The character of the higher and more educated classes who reside
in the towns, partakes, but perhaps in a lesser degree, of the
good parts of the Gaucho, but is, I fear, stained by many vices
of which he is free. Sensuality, mockery of all religion, and the
grossest corruption, are far from uncommon. Nearly every public
officer can be bribed. The head man in the post-office sold
forged government franks. The governor and prime minister openly
combined to plunder the State. Justice, where gold came into
play, was hardly expected by any one. I knew an Englishman who
went to the Chief Justice (he told me that, not then
understanding the ways of the place, he trembled as he entered
the room), and said, "Sir, I have come to offer you two hundred
(paper) dollars (value about five pounds sterling) if you will
arrest before a certain time a man who has cheated me. I know it
is against the law, but my lawyer (naming him) recommended me to
take this step." The Chief Justice smiled acquiescence, thanked
him, and the man before night was safe in prison. With this
entire want of principle in many of the leading men, with the
country full of ill-paid turbulent officers, the people yet hope
that a democratic form of government can succeed!

On first entering society in these countries, two or three
features strike one as particularly remarkable. The polite and
dignified manners pervading every rank of life, the excellent
taste displayed by the women in their dresses, and the equality
amongst all ranks. At the Rio Colorado some men who kept the
humblest shops used to dine with General Rosas. A son of a major
at Bahia Blanca gained his livelihood by making paper cigars, and
he wished to accompany me, as guide or servant, to Buenos Ayres,
but his father objected on the score of the danger alone. Many
officers in the army can neither read nor write, yet all meet in
society as equals. In Entre Rios, the Sala consisted of only six
representatives. One of them kept a common shop, and evidently
was not degraded by the office. All this is what would be
expected in a new country; nevertheless the absence of gentlemen
by profession appears to an Englishman something strange.

When speaking of these countries, the manner in which they have
been brought up by their unnatural parent, Spain, should always
be borne in mind. On the whole, perhaps, more credit is due for
what has been done, than blame for that which may be deficient.
It is impossible to doubt but that the extreme liberalism of
these countries must ultimately lead to good results. The very
general toleration of foreign religions, the regard paid to the
means of education, the freedom of the press, the facilities
offered to all foreigners, and especially, as I am bound to add,
to every one professing the humblest pretensions to science,
should be recollected with gratitude by those who have visited
Spanish South America.

DECEMBER 6, 1833.

The "Beagle" sailed from the Rio Plata, never again to enter its
muddy stream. Our course was directed to Port Desire, on the
coast of Patagonia. Before proceeding any farther, I will here
put together a few observations made at sea.

Several times when the ship has been some miles off the mouth of
the Plata, and at other times when off the shores of Northern
Patagonia, we have been surrounded by insects. One evening, when
we were about ten miles from the Bay of San Blas, vast numbers of
butterflies, in bands or flocks of countless myriads, extended as
far as the eye could range. Even by the aid of a telescope it was
not possible to see a space free from butterflies. The seamen
cried out "it was snowing butterflies," and such in fact was the
appearance. More species than one were present, but the main part
belonged to a kind very similar to, but not identical with, the
common English Colias edusa. Some moths and hymenoptera
accompanied the butterflies; and a fine beetle (Calosoma) flew on
board. Other instances are known of this beetle having been
caught far out at sea; and this is the more remarkable, as the
greater number of the Carabidae seldom or never take wing. The
day had been fine and calm, and the one previous to it equally
so, with light and variable airs. Hence we cannot suppose that
the insects were blown off the land, but we must conclude that
they voluntarily took flight. The great bands of the Colias seem
at first to afford an instance like those on record of the
migrations of another butterfly, Vanessa cardui (8/5. Lyell's
"Principles of Geology" volume 3 page 63.); but the presence of
other insects makes the case distinct, and even less
intelligible. Before sunset a strong breeze sprung up from the
north, and this must have caused tens of thousands of the
butterflies and other insects to have perished.

On another occasion, when seventeen miles off Cape Corrientes, I
had a net overboard to catch pelagic animals. Upon drawing it up,
to my surprise I found a considerable number of beetles in it,
and although in the open sea, they did not appear much injured by
the salt water. I lost some of the specimens, but those which I
preserved belonged to the genera Colymbetes, Hydroporus,
Hydrobius (two species), Notaphus, Cynucus, Adimonia, and
Scarabaeus. At first I thought that these insects had been blown
from the shore; but upon reflecting that out of the eight species
four were aquatic, and two others partly so in their habits, it
appeared to me most probable that they were floated into the sea
by a small stream which drains a lake near Cape Corrientes. On
any supposition it is an interesting circumstance to find live
insects swimming in the open ocean seventeen miles from the
nearest point of land. There are several accounts of insects
having been blown off the Patagonian shore. Captain Cook observed
it, as did more lately Captain King of the "Adventure." The cause
probably is due to the want of shelter, both of trees and hills,
so that an insect on the wing with an offshore breeze, would be
very apt to be blown out to sea. The most remarkable instance I
have known of an insect being caught far from the land, was that
of a large grasshopper (Acrydium), which flew on board, when the
"Beagle" was to windward of the Cape de Verd Islands, and when
the nearest point of land, not directly opposed to the
trade-wind, was Cape Blanco on the coast of Africa, 370 miles
distant. (8/6. The flies which frequently accompany a ship for
some days on its passage from harbour to harbour, wandering from
the vessel, are soon lost, and all disappear.)

On several occasions, when the "Beagle" has been within the mouth
of the Plata, the rigging has been coated with the web of the
Gossamer Spider. One day (November 1st, 1832) I paid particular
attention to this subject. The weather had been fine and clear,
and in the morning the air was full of patches of the flocculent
web, as on an autumnal day in England. The ship was sixty miles
distant from the land, in the direction of a steady though light
breeze. Vast numbers of a small spider, about one-tenth of an
inch in length, and of a dusky red colour, were attached to the
webs. There must have been, I should suppose, some thousands on
the ship. The little spider, when first coming in contact with
the rigging, was always seated on a single thread, and not on the
flocculent mass. This latter seems merely to be produced by the
entanglement of the single threads. The spiders were all of one
species, but of both sexes, together with young ones. These
latter were distinguished by their smaller size and more dusky
colour. I will not give the description of this spider, but
merely state that it does not appear to me to be included in any
of Latreille's genera. The little aeronaut as soon as it arrived
on board was very active, running about, sometimes letting itself
fall, and then reascending the same thread; sometimes employing
itself in making a small and very irregular mesh in the corners
between the ropes. It could run with facility on the surface of
water. When disturbed it lifted up its front legs, in the
attitude of attention. On its first arrival it appeared very
thirsty, and with exserted maxillae drank eagerly of drops of
water; this same circumstance has been observed by Strack: may it
not be in consequence of the little insect having passed through
a dry and rarefied atmosphere? Its stock of web seemed
inexhaustible. While watching some that were suspended by a
single thread, I several times observed that the slightest breath
of air bore them away out of sight, in a horizontal line. On
another occasion (25th) under similar circumstances, I repeatedly
observed the same kind of small spider, either when placed or
having crawled on some little eminence, elevate its abdomen, send
forth a thread, and then sail away horizontally, but with a
rapidity which was quite unaccountable. I thought I could
perceive that the spider, before performing the above preparatory
steps, connected its legs together with the most delicate
threads, but I am not sure whether this observation was correct.

One day, at St. F, I had a better opportunity of observing some
similar facts. A spider which was about three-tenths of an inch
in length, and which in its general appearance resembled a
Citigrade (therefore quite different from the gossamer), while
standing on the summit of a post, darted forth four or five
threads from its spinners. These, glittering in the sunshine,
might be compared to diverging rays of light; they were not,
however, straight, but in undulations like films of silk blown by
the wind. They were more than a yard in length, and diverged in
an ascending direction from the orifices. The spider then
suddenly let go its hold of the post, and was quickly borne out
of sight. The day was hot and apparently quite calm; yet under
such circumstances, the atmosphere can never be so tranquil as
not to affect a vane so delicate as the thread of a spider's web.
If during a warm day we look either at the shadow of any object
cast on a bank, or over a level plain at a distant landmark, the
effect of an ascending current of heated air is almost always
evident: such upward currents, it has been remarked, are also
shown by the ascent of soap-bubbles, which will not rise in an
indoors room. Hence I think there is not much difficulty in
understanding the ascent of the fine lines projected from a
spider's spinners, and afterwards of the spider itself; the
divergence of the lines has been attempted to be explained, I
believe by Mr. Murray, by their similar electrical condition. The
circumstance of spiders of the same species, but of different
sexes and ages, being found on several occasions at the distance
of many leagues from the land, attached in vast numbers to the
lines, renders it probable that the habit of sailing through the
air is as characteristic of this tribe, as that of diving is of
the Argyroneta. We may then reject Latreille's supposition, that
the gossamer owes its origin indifferently to the young of
several genera of spiders: although, as we have seen, the young
of other spiders do possess the power of performing aerial
voyages. (8/7. Mr. Blackwall in his "Researches in Zoology" has
many excellent observations on the habits of spiders.)

During our different passages south of the Plata, I often towed
astern a net made of bunting, and thus caught many curious
animals. Of Crustacea there were many strange and undescribed
genera. One, which in some respects is allied to the Notopods (or
those crabs which have their posterior legs placed almost on
their backs, for the purpose of adhering to the under side of
rocks), is very remarkable from the structure of its hind pair of
legs. The penultimate joint, instead of terminating in a simple
claw, ends in three bristle-like appendages of dissimilar
lengths--the longest equalling that of the entire leg. These
claws are very thin, and are serrated with the finest teeth,
directed backwards: their curved extremities are flattened, and
on this part five most minute cups are placed which seem to act
in the same manner as the suckers on the arms of the cuttle-fish.
As the animal lives in the open sea, and probably wants a place
of rest, I suppose this beautiful and most anomalous structure is
adapted to take hold of floating marine animals.

In deep water, far from the land, the number of living creatures
is extremely small: south of the latitude 35 degrees, I never
succeeded in catching anything besides some beroe, and a few
species of minute entomostracous crustacea. In shoaler water, at
the distance of a few miles from the coast, very many kinds of
crustacea and some other animals are numerous, but only during
the night. Between latitudes 56 and 57 degrees south of Cape
Horn, the net was put astern several times; it never, however,
brought up anything besides a few of two extremely minute species
of Entomostraca. Yet whales and seals, petrels and albatross, are
exceedingly abundant throughout this part of the ocean. It has
always been a mystery to me on what the albatross, which lives
far from the shore, can subsist; I presume that, like the condor,
it is able to fast long; and that one good feast on the carcass
of a putrid whale lasts for a long time. The central and
intertropical parts of the Atlantic swarm with Pteropoda,
Crustacea, and Radiata, and with their devourers the flying-fish,
and again with their devourers the bonitos and albicores; I
presume that the numerous lower pelagic animals feed on the
Infusoria, which are now known, from the researches of Ehrenberg,
to abound in the open ocean: but on what, in the clear blue
water, do these Infusoria subsist?

While sailing a little south of the Plata on one very dark night,
the sea presented a wonderful and most beautiful spectacle. There
was a fresh breeze, and every part of the surface, which during
the day is seen as foam, now glowed with a pale light. The vessel
drove before her bows two billows of liquid phosphorus, and in
her wake she was followed by a milky train. As far as the eye
reached, the crest of every wave was bright, and the sky above
the horizon, from the reflected glare of these livid flames, was
not so utterly obscure as over the vault of the heavens.

As we proceed farther southward the sea is seldom phosphorescent;
and off Cape Horn I do not recollect more than once having seen
it so, and then it was far from being brilliant. This
circumstance probably has a close connection with the scarcity of
organic beings in that part of the ocean. After the elaborate
paper by Ehrenberg, on the phosphorescence of the sea, it is
almost superfluous on my part to make any observations on the
subject. (8/8. An abstract is given in No. 4 of the "Magazine of
Zoology and Botany.") I may however add, that the same torn and
irregular particles of gelatinous matter, described by Ehrenberg,
seem in the southern as well as in the northern hemisphere to be
the common cause of this phenomenon. The particles were so minute
as easily to pass through fine gauze; yet many were distinctly
visible by the naked eye. The water when placed in a tumbler and
agitated gave out sparks, but a small portion in a watch-glass
scarcely ever was luminous. Ehrenberg states that these particles
all retain a certain degree of irritability. My observations,
some of which were made directly after taking up the water, gave
a different result. I may also mention, that having used the net
during one night, I allowed it to become partially dry, and
having occasion twelve hours afterwards to employ it again, I
found the whole surface sparkled as brightly as when first taken
out of the water. It does not appear probable in this case that
the particles could have remained so long alive. On one occasion
having kept a jelly-fish of the genus Dianaea till it was dead,
the water in which it was placed became luminous. When the waves
scintillate with bright green sparks, I believe it is generally
owing to minute crustacea. But there can be no doubt that very
many other pelagic animals, when alive, are phosphorescent.

On two occasions I have observed the sea luminous at considerable
depths beneath the surface. Near the mouth of the Plata some
circular and oval patches, from two to four yards in diameter,
and with defined outlines, shone with a steady but pale light;
while the surrounding water only gave out a few sparks. The
appearance resembled the reflection of the moon, or some luminous
body; for the edges were sinuous from the undulations of the
surface. The ship, which drew thirteen feet water, passed over,
without disturbing these patches. Therefore we must suppose that
some animals were congregated together at a greater depth than
the bottom of the vessel.

Near Fernando Noronha the sea gave out light in flashes. The
appearance was very similar to that which might be expected from
a large fish moving rapidly through a luminous fluid. To this
cause the sailors attributed it; at the time, however, I
entertained some doubts, on account of the frequency and rapidity
of the flashes. I have already remarked that the phenomenon is
very much more common in warm than in cold countries; and I have
sometimes imagined that a disturbed electrical condition of the
atmosphere was most favourable to its production. Certainly I
think the sea is most luminous after a few days of more calm
weather than ordinary, during which time it has swarmed with
various animals. Observing that the water charged with gelatinous
particles is in an impure state, and that the luminous appearance
in all common cases is produced by the agitation of the fluid in
contact with the atmosphere, I am inclined to consider that the
phosphorescence is the result of the decomposition of the organic
particles, by which process (one is tempted almost to call it a
kind of respiration) the ocean becomes purified.

DECEMBER 23, 1833.

We arrived at Port Desire, situated in latitude 47 degrees, on
the coast of Patagonia. The creek runs for about twenty miles
inland, with an irregular width. The "Beagle" anchored a few
miles within the entrance, in front of the ruins of an old
Spanish settlement.

The same evening I went on shore. The first landing in any new
country is very interesting, and especially when, as in this
case, the whole aspect bears the stamp of a marked and individual
character. At the height of between two and three hundred feet
above some masses of porphyry a wide plain extends, which is
truly characteristic of Patagonia. The surface is quite level,
and is composed of well-rounded shingle mixed with a whitish
earth. Here and there scattered tufts of brown wiry grass are
supported, and still more rarely, some low thorny bushes. The
weather is dry and pleasant, and the fine blue sky is but seldom
obscured. When standing in the middle of one of these desert
plains and looking towards the interior, the view is generally
bounded by the escarpment of another plain, rather higher, but
equally level and desolate; and in every other direction the
horizon is indistinct from the trembling mirage which seems to
rise from the heated surface.

In such a country the fate of the Spanish settlement was soon
decided; the dryness of the climate during the greater part of
the year, and the occasional hostile attacks of the wandering
Indians, compelled the colonists to desert their half-finished
buildings. The style, however, in which they were commenced shows
the strong and liberal hand of Spain in the old time. The result
of all the attempts to colonise this side of America south of 41
degrees has been miserable. Port Famine expresses by its name the
lingering and extreme sufferings of several hundred wretched
people, of whom one alone survived to relate their misfortunes.
At St. Joseph's Bay, on the coast of Patagonia, a small
settlement was made; but during one Sunday the Indians made an
attack and massacred the whole party, excepting two men, who
remained captives during many years. At the Rio Negro I conversed
with one of these men, now in extreme old age.

(PLATE 38.  OPUNTIA DARWINII.)

The zoology of Patagonia is as limited as its Flora. (8/9. I
found here a species of cactus, described by Professor Henslow,
under the name of Opuntia Darwinii "Magazine of Zoology and
Botany" volume 1 page 466, which was remarkable for the
irritability of the stamens, when I inserted either a piece of
stick or the end of my finger in the flower. The segments of the
perianth also closed on the pistil, but more slowly than the
stamens. Plants of this family, generally considered as tropical,
occur in North America "Lewis and Clarke's Travels" page 221, in
the same high latitude as here, namely, in both cases, in 47
degrees.) On the arid plains a few black beetles (Heteromera)
might be seen slowly crawling about, and occasionally a lizard
darted from side to side. Of birds we have three carrion hawks,
and in the valleys a few finches and insect-feeders. An ibis
(Theristicus melanops--a species said to be found in central
Africa) is not uncommon on the most desert parts: in their
stomachs I found grasshoppers, cicadae, small lizards, and even
scorpions. (8/10. These insects were not uncommon beneath stones.
I found one cannibal scorpion quietly devouring another.) At one
time of the year these birds go in flocks, at another in pairs,
their cry is very loud and singular, like the neighing of the
guanaco.

The guanaco, or wild llama, is the characteristic quadruped of
the plains of Patagonia; it is the South American representative
of the camel of the East. It is an elegant animal in a state of
nature, with a long slender neck and fine legs. It is very common
over the whole of the temperate parts of the continent, as far
south as the islands near Cape Horn. It generally lives in small
herds of from half a dozen to thirty in each; but on the banks of
the St. Cruz we saw one herd which must have contained at least
five hundred.

They are generally wild and extremely wary. Mr. Stokes told me
that he one day saw through a glass a herd of these animals which
evidently had been frightened, and were running away at full
speed, although their distance was so great that he could not
distinguish them with his naked eye. The sportsman frequently
receives the first notice of their presence, by hearing from a
long distance their peculiar shrill neighing note of alarm. If he
then looks attentively, he will probably see the herd standing in
a line on the side of some distant hill. On approaching nearer, a
few more squeals are given, and off they set at an apparently
slow, but really quick canter, along some narrow beaten track to
a neighbouring hill. If, however, by chance he abruptly meets a
single animal, or several together, they will generally stand
motionless and intently gaze at him; then perhaps move on a few
yards, turn round, and look again. What is the cause of this
difference in their shyness? Do they mistake a man in the
distance for their chief enemy the puma? Or does curiosity
overcome their timidity? That they are curious is certain; for if
a person lies on the ground, and plays strange antics, such as
throwing up his feet in the air, they will almost always approach
by degrees to reconnoitre him. It was an artifice that was
repeatedly practised by our sportsmen with success, and it had
moreover the advantage of allowing several shots to be fired,
which were all taken as parts of the performance. On the
mountains of Tierra del Fuego, I have more than once seen a
guanaco, on being approached, not only neigh and squeal, but
prance and leap about in the most ridiculous manner, apparently
in defiance as a challenge. These animals are very easily
domesticated, and I have seen some thus kept in Northern
Patagonia near a house, though not under any restraint. They are
in this state very bold, and readily attack a man by striking him
from behind with both knees. It is asserted that the motive for
these attacks is jealousy on account of their females. The wild
guanacos, however, have no idea of defence; even a single dog
will secure one of these large animals, till the huntsman can
come up. In many of their habits they are like sheep in a flock.
Thus when they see men approaching in several directions on
horseback, they soon become bewildered, and know not which way to
run. This greatly facilitates the Indian method of hunting, for
they are thus easily driven to a central point, and are
encompassed.

The guanacos readily take to the water: several times at Port
Valdes they were seen swimming from island to island. Byron, in
his voyage, says he saw them drinking salt water. Some of our
officers likewise saw a herd apparently drinking the briny fluid
from a salina near Cape Blanco. I imagine in several parts of the
country, if they do not drink salt water, they drink none at all.
In the middle of the day they frequently roll in the dust, in
saucer-shaped hollows. The males fight together; two one day
passed quite close to me, squealing and trying to bite each
other; and several were shot with their hides deeply scored.
Herds sometimes appear to set out on exploring parties: at Bahia
Blanca, where, within thirty miles of the coast, these animals
are extremely unfrequent, I one day saw the tracks of thirty or
forty, which had come in a direct line to a muddy salt-water
creek. They then must have perceived that they were approaching
the sea, for they had wheeled with the regularity of cavalry, and
had returned back in as straight a line as they had advanced. The
guanacos have one singular habit, which is to me quite
inexplicable; namely, that on successive days they drop their
dung in the same defined heap. I saw one of these heaps which was
eight feet in diameter, and was composed of a large quantity.
This habit, according to M. A. d'Orbigny, is common to all the
species of the genus; it is very useful to the Peruvian Indians,
who use the dung for fuel, and are thus saved the trouble of
collecting it.

The guanacos appear to have favourite spots for lying down to
die. On the banks of the St. Cruz, in certain circumscribed
spaces, which were generally bushy and all near the river, the
ground was actually white with bones. On one such spot I counted
between ten and twenty heads. I particularly examined the bones;
they did not appear, as some scattered ones which I had seen,
gnawed or broken, as if dragged together by beasts of prey. The
animals in most cases must have crawled, before dying, beneath
and amongst the bushes. Mr. Bynoe informs me that during a former
voyage he observed the same circumstance on the banks of the Rio
Gallegos. I do not at all understand the reason of this, but I
may observe, that the wounded guanacos at the St. Cruz invariably
walked towards the river. At St. Jago in the Cape de Verd
Islands, I remember having seen in a ravine a retired corner
covered with bones of the goat; we at the time exclaimed that it
was the burial-ground of all the goats in the island. I mention
these trifling circumstances, because in certain cases they might
explain the occurrence of a number of uninjured bones in a cave,
or buried under alluvial accumulations; and likewise the cause
why certain animals are more commonly embedded than others in
sedimentary deposits.

One day the yawl was sent under the command of Mr. Chaffers with
three days' provisions to survey the upper part of the harbour.
In the morning we searched for some watering-places mentioned in
an old Spanish chart. We found one creek, at the head of which
there was a trickling rill (the first we had seen) of brackish
water. Here the tide compelled us to wait several hours; and in
the interval I walked some miles into the interior. The plain as
usual consisted of gravel, mingled with soil resembling chalk in
appearance, but very different from it in nature. From the
softness of these materials it was worn into many gulleys. There
was not a tree, and, excepting the guanaco, which stood on the
hilltop a watchful sentinel over its herd, scarcely an animal or
a bird. All was stillness and desolation. Yet in passing over
these scenes, without one bright object near, an ill-defined but
strong sense of pleasure is vividly excited. One asked how many
ages the plain had thus lasted, and how many more it was doomed
thus to continue.

"None can reply--all seems eternal now.
The wilderness has a mysterious tongue,
Which teaches awful doubt."
(8/11. Shelley, Lines on Mt. Blanc.)

In the evening we sailed a few miles farther up, and then pitched
the tents for the night. By the middle of the next day the yawl
was aground, and from the shoalness of the water could not
proceed any higher. The water being found partly fresh, Mr.
Chaffers took the dingey and went up two or three miles farther,
where she also grounded, but in a fresh-water river. The water
was muddy, and though the stream was most insignificant in size,
it would be difficult to account for its origin, except from the
melting snow on the Cordillera. At the spot where we bivouacked,
we were surrounded by bold cliffs and steep pinnacles of
porphyry. I do not think I ever saw a spot which appeared more
secluded from the rest of the world than this rocky crevice in
the wide plain.

The second day after our return to the anchorage, a party of
officers and myself went to ransack an old Indian grave, which I
had found on the summit of a neighbouring hill. Two immense
stones, each probably weighing at least a couple of tons, had
been placed in front of a ledge of rock about six feet high. At
the bottom of the grave on the hard rock there was a layer of
earth about a foot deep, which must have been brought up from the
plain below. Above it a pavement of flat stones was placed, on
which others were piled, so as to fill up the space between the
ledge and the two great blocks. To complete the grave, the
Indians had contrived to detach from the ledge a huge fragment,
and to throw it over the pile so as to rest on the two blocks. We
undermined the grave on both sides, but could not find any
relics, or even bones. The latter probably had decayed long since
(in which case the grave must have been of extreme antiquity),
for I found in another place some smaller heaps, beneath which a
very few crumbling fragments could yet be distinguished as having
belonged to a man. Falconer states, that where an Indian dies he
is buried, but that subsequently his bones are carefully taken up
and carried, let the distance be ever so great, to be deposited
near the sea-coast. This custom, I think, may be accounted for by
recollecting that, before the introduction of horses, these
Indians must have led nearly the same life as the Fuegians now
do, and therefore generally have resided in the neighbourhood of
the sea. The common prejudice of lying where one's ancestors have
lain, would make the now roaming Indians bring the less
perishable part of their dead to their ancient burial-ground on
the coast.

JANUARY 9, 1834.

Before it was dark the "Beagle" anchored in the fine spacious
harbour of Port St. Julian, situated about one hundred and ten
miles to the south of Port Desire. We remained here eight days.
The country is nearly similar to that of Port Desire, but perhaps
rather more sterile. One day a party accompanied Captain Fitz Roy
on a long walk round the head of the harbour. We were eleven
hours without tasting any water, and some of the party were quite
exhausted. From the summit of a hill (since well named Thirsty
Hill) a fine lake was spied, and two of the party proceeded with
concerted signals to show whether it was fresh water. What was
our disappointment to find a snow-white expanse of salt,
crystallised in great cubes! We attributed our extreme thirst to
the dryness of the atmosphere; but whatever the cause might be,
we were exceedingly glad late in the evening to get back to the
boats. Although we could nowhere find, during our whole visit, a
single drop of fresh water, yet some must exist; for by an odd
chance I found on the surface of the salt water, near the head of
the bay, a Colymbetes not quite dead, which must have lived in
some not far distant pool. Three other insects (a Cincindela,
like hybrida, a Cymindis, and a Harpalus, which all live on muddy
flats occasionally overflowed by the sea), and one other found
dead on the plain, complete the list of the beetles. A good-sized
fly (Tabanus) was extremely numerous, and tormented us by its
painful bite. The common horsefly, which is so troublesome in the
shady lanes of England, belongs to this same genus. We here have
the puzzle that so frequently occurs in the case of
musquitoes--on the blood of what animals do these insects
commonly feed? The guanaco is nearly the only warm-blooded
quadruped, and it is found in quite inconsiderable numbers
compared with the multitude of flies.

The geology of Patagonia is interesting. Differently from Europe,
where the tertiary formations appear to have accumulated in bays,
here along hundreds of miles of coast we have one great deposit,
including many tertiary shells, all apparently extinct. The most
common shell is a massive gigantic oyster, sometimes even a foot
in diameter. These beds are covered by others of a peculiar soft
white stone, including much gypsum, and resembling chalk, but
really of a pumiceous nature. It is highly remarkable, from being
composed, to at least one-tenth part of its bulk, of Infusoria:
Professor Ehrenberg has already ascertained in it thirty oceanic
forms. This bed extends for 500 miles along the coast, and
probably for a considerably greater distance. At Port St. Julian
its thickness is more than 800 feet! These white beds are
everywhere capped by a mass of gravel, forming probably one of
the largest beds of shingle in the world: it certainly extends
from near the Rio Colorado to between 600 and 700 nautical miles
southward, at Santa Cruz (a river a little south of St. Julian)
it reaches to the foot of the Cordillera; half way up the river
its thickness is more than 200 feet; it probably everywhere
extends to this great chain, whence the well-rounded pebbles of
porphyry have been derived: we may consider its average breadth
as 200 miles, and its average thickness as about 50 feet. If this
great bed of pebbles, without including the mud necessarily
derived from their attrition, was piled into a mound, it would
form a great mountain chain! When we consider that all these
pebbles, countless as the grains of sand in the desert, have been
derived from the slow falling of masses of rock on the old
coast-lines and banks of rivers, and that these fragments have
been dashed into smaller pieces, and that each of them has since
been slowly rolled, rounded, and far transported, the mind is
stupefied in thinking over the long, absolutely necessary, lapse
of years. Yet all this gravel has been transported, and probably
rounded, subsequently to the deposition of the white beds, and
long subsequently to the underlying beds with the tertiary
shells.

Everything in this southern continent has been effected on a
grand scale: the land, from the Rio Plata to Tierra del Fuego, a
distance of 1200 miles, has been raised in mass (and in Patagonia
to a height of between 300 and 400 feet), within the period of
the now existing sea-shells. The old and weathered shells left on
the surface of the upraised plain still partially retain their
colours. The uprising movement has been interrupted by at least
eight long periods of rest, during which the sea ate deeply back
into the land, forming at successive levels the long lines of
cliffs or escarpments, which separate the different plains as
they rise like steps one behind the other. The elevatory
movement, and the eating-back power of the sea during the periods
of rest, have been equable over long lines of coast; for I was
astonished to find that the step-like plains stand at nearly
corresponding heights at far distant points. The lowest plain is
90 feet high; and the highest, which I ascended near the coast,
is 950 feet; and of this only relics are left in the form of flat
gravel-capped hills. The upper plain of Santa Cruz slopes up to a
height of 3000 feet at the foot of the Cordillera. I have said
that within the period of existing sea-shells, Patagonia has been
upraised 300 to 400 feet: I may add, that within the period when
icebergs transported boulders over the upper plain of Santa Cruz,
the elevation has been at least 1500 feet. Nor has Patagonia been
affected only by upward movements: the extinct tertiary shells
from Port St. Julian and Santa Cruz cannot have lived, according
to Professor E. Forbes, in a greater depth of water than from 40
to 250 feet; but they are now covered with sea-deposited strata
from 800 to 1000 feet in thickness: hence the bed of the sea, on
which these shells once lived, must have sunk downwards several
hundred feet, to allow of the accumulation of the superincumbent
strata. What a history of geological changes does the
simply-constructed coast of Patagonia reveal!

(PLATE 39.  RAISED BEACHES, PATAGONIA.)

At Port St. Julian, in some red mud capping the gravel on the
90-feet plain, I found half the skeleton of the Macrauchenia
Patachonica, a remarkable quadruped, full as large as a camel.
(8/12. I have lately heard that Captain Sulivan, R.N., has found
numerous fossil bones, embedded in regular strata, on the banks
of the R. Gallegos, in latitude 51 degrees 4'. Some of the bones
are large; others are small, and appear to have belonged to an
armadillo. This is a most interesting and important discovery.)
It belongs to the same division of the Pachydermata with the
rhinoceros, tapir, and palaeotherium; but in the structure of the
bones of its long neck it shows a clear relation to the camel, or
rather to the guanaco and llama. From recent sea-shells being
found on two of the higher step-formed plains, which must have
been modelled and upraised before the mud was deposited in which
the Macrauchenia was intombed, it is certain that this curious
quadruped lived long after the sea was inhabited by its present
shells. I was at first much surprised how a large quadruped could
so lately have subsisted, in latitude 49 degrees 15', on these
wretched gravel plains with their stunted vegetation; but the
relationship of the Macrauchenia to the Guanaco, now an
inhabitant of the most sterile parts, partly explains this
difficulty.

The relationship, though distant, between the Macrauchenia and
the Guanaco, between the Toxodon and the Capybara,--the closer
relationship between the many extinct Edentata and the living
sloths, ant-eaters, and armadillos, now so eminently
characteristic of South American zoology,--and the still closer
relationship between the fossil and living species of Ctenomys
and Hydrochaerus, are most interesting facts. This relationship
is shown wonderfully--as wonderfully as between the fossil and
extinct Marsupial animals of Australia--by the great collection
lately brought to Europe from the caves of Brazil by MM. Lund and
Clausen. In this collection there are extinct species of all the
thirty-two genera, excepting four, of the terrestrial quadrupeds
now inhabiting the provinces in which the caves occur; and the
extinct species are much more numerous than those now living:
there are fossil ant-eaters, armadillos, tapirs, peccaries,
guanacos, opossums, and numerous South American gnawers and
monkeys, and other animals. This wonderful relationship in the
same continent between the dead and the living, will, I do not
doubt, hereafter throw more light on the appearance of organic
beings on our earth, and their disappearance from it, than any
other class of facts.

It is impossible to reflect on the changed state of the American
continent without the deepest astonishment. Formerly it must have
swarmed with great monsters: now we find mere pigmies, compared
with the antecedent allied races. If Buffon had known of the
gigantic sloth and armadillo-like animals, and of the lost
Pachydermata, he might have said with a greater semblance of
truth that the creative force in America had lost its power,
rather than that it had never possessed great vigour. The greater
number, if not all, of these extinct quadrupeds lived at a late
period, and were the contemporaries of most of the existing
sea-shells. Since they lived, no very great change in the form of
the land can have taken place. What, then, has exterminated so
many species and whole genera? The mind at first is irresistibly
hurried into the belief of some great catastrophe; but thus to
destroy animals, both large and small, in Southern Patagonia, in
Brazil, on the Cordillera of Peru, in North America up to
Behring's Straits, we must shake the entire framework of the
globe. An examination, moreover, of the geology of La Plata and
Patagonia, leads to the belief that all the features of the land
result from slow and gradual changes. It appears from the
character of the fossils in Europe, Asia, Australia, and in North
and South America, that those conditions which favour the life of
the LARGER quadrupeds were lately coextensive with the world:
what those conditions were, no one has yet even conjectured. It
could hardly have been a change of temperature, which at about
the same time destroyed the inhabitants of tropical, temperate,
and arctic latitudes on both sides of the globe. In North America
we positively know from Mr. Lyell that the large quadrupeds lived
subsequently to that period, when boulders were brought into
latitudes at which icebergs now never arrive: from conclusive but
indirect reasons we may feel sure, that in the southern
hemisphere the Macrauchenia, also, lived long subsequently to the
ice-transporting boulder-period. Did man, after his first inroad
into South America, destroy, as has been suggested, the unwieldy
Megatherium and the other Edentata? We must at least look to some
other cause for the destruction of the little tucutuco at Bahia
Blanca, and of the many fossil mice and other small quadrupeds in
Brazil. No one will imagine that a drought, even far severer than
those which cause such losses in the provinces of La Plata, could
destroy every individual of every species from Southern Patagonia
to Behring's Straits. What shall we say of the extinction of the
horse? Did those plains fail of pasture, which have since been
overrun by thousands and hundreds of thousands of the descendants
of the stock introduced by the Spaniards? Have the subsequently
introduced species consumed the food of the great antecedent
races? Can we believe that the Capybara has taken the food of the
Toxodon, the Guanaco of the Macrauchenia, the existing small
Edentata of their numerous gigantic prototypes? Certainly, no
fact in the long history of the world is so startling as the wide
and repeated exterminations of its inhabitants.

Nevertheless, if we consider the subject under another point of
view, it will appear less perplexing. We do not steadily bear in
mind how profoundly ignorant we are of the conditions of
existence of every animal; nor do we always remember that some
check is constantly preventing the too rapid increase of every
organised being left in a state of nature. The supply of food, on
an average, remains constant, yet the tendency in every animal to
increase by propagation is geometrical; and its surprising
effects have nowhere been more astonishingly shown, than in the
case of the European animals run wild during the last few
centuries in America. Every animal in a state of nature regularly
breeds; yet in a species long established, any GREAT increase in
numbers is obviously impossible, and must be checked by some
means. We are, nevertheless, seldom able with certainty to tell
in any given species, at what period of life, or at what period
of the year, or whether only at long intervals, the check falls;
or, again, what is the precise nature of the check. Hence
probably it is that we feel so little surprise at one, of two
species closely allied in habits, being rare and the other
abundant in the same district; or, again, that one should be
abundant in one district, and another, filling the same place in
the economy of nature, should be abundant in a neighbouring
district, differing very little in its conditions. If asked how
this is, one immediately replies that it is determined by some
slight difference in climate, food, or the number of enemies: yet
how rarely, if ever, we can point out the precise cause and
manner of action of the check! We are therefore, driven to the
conclusion that causes generally quite inappreciable by us,
determine whether a given species shall be abundant or scanty in
numbers.

In the cases where we can trace the extinction of a species
through man, either wholly or in one limited district, we know
that it becomes rarer and rarer, and is then lost: it would be
difficult to point out any just distinction between a species
destroyed by man or by the increase of its natural enemies.
(8/13. See the excellent remarks on this subject by Mr. Lyell in
his "Principles of Geology.") The evidence of rarity preceding
extinction is more striking in the successive tertiary strata, as
remarked by several able observers; it has often been found that
a shell very common in a tertiary stratum is now most rare, and
has even long been thought to be extinct. If then, as appears
probable, species first become rare and then extinct--if the too
rapid increase of every species, even the most favoured, is
steadily checked, as we must admit, though how and when it is
hard to say--and if we see, without the smallest surprise, though
unable to assign the precise reason, one species abundant and
another closely-allied species rare in the same district--why
should we feel such great astonishment at the rarity being
carried a step farther to extinction? An action going on, on
every side of us, and yet barely appreciable, might surely be
carried a little farther without exciting our observation. Who
would feel any great surprise at hearing that the Magalonyx was
formerly rare compared with the Megatherium, or that one of the
fossil monkeys was few in number compared with one of the now
living monkeys? and yet in this comparative rarity, we should
have the plainest evidence of less favourable conditions for
their existence. To admit that species generally become rare
before they become extinct--to feel no surprise at the
comparative rarity of one species with another, and yet to call
in some extraordinary agent and to marvel greatly when a species
ceases to exist, appears to me much the same as to admit that
sickness in the individual is the prelude to death--to feel no
surprise at sickness--but when the sick man dies to wonder, and
to believe that he died through violence.

(PLATE 40.  LADIES' COMBS, BANDA ORIENTAL.)


CHAPTER IX.

(PLATE 41.  CONDOR (Sarcorhamphus gryphus).)

Santa Cruz.
Expedition up the River.
Indians.
Immense Streams of basaltic lava.
Fragments not transported by the River.
Excavation 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.
Penguin.
Geese.
Eggs of Doris.
Compound animals.

SANTA CRUZ, PATAGONIA, AND THE FALKLAND ISLANDS.

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 19, 1834.

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 20, 1834.

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 22, 1834.

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 waterfowl 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 than perhaps any other country
in the world. (9/1. The desserts of Syria are characterised,
according to Volney tome 1 page 351, by woody bushes, numerous
rats, gazelles and hares. In the landscape of Patagonia the
guanaco replaces the gazelle, and the agouti the hare.) Several
species of mice are externally characterised 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
than 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 24, 1834.

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 26, 1834.

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 or 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 the 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 removed? 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 has 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.

(PLATE 42.  BASALTIC GLEN, SANTA CRUZ (RIO NEGRO).

APRIL 27, 1834.

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 habitation 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, an 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 then 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.
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. (9/2. 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.)

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. (9/3. Loudon's "Magazine of Natural
History" volume 7.)

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 descent 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 an 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 movement 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 29, 1834.

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
slaty rocks, and of granite. The plain bordering the valley had
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 it 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 4, 1834.

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
farther. 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 any
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.

MAY 5, 1834.

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 a 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 an 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. (9/4. From accounts published since our
voyage, and more especially from several interesting letters from
Captain 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.)

MAY 16, 1834.

I will now describe a short excursion which I 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 in 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 Tor (the great peninsula
at the south-west 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. Captain 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 has the increase of the horse
been checked sooner than that of the cattle? Captain 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 Captain 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. Captain 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. Captain 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. Captain 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. Captain 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 herd
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 had 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 contend
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. (9/5.
Lesson's "Zoology of the Voyage of the Coquille" tome 1 page 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.) 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 farther 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 is a large wolf-like fox
(Canis antarcticus), which is common to both East and West
Falkland. (9/6. 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 tusks.) 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" (9/7. The "culpeu" is the Canis
Magellanicus brought home by Captain King from the Strait of
Magellan. It is common in Chile.); 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 fox 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.

MAY 18, 1834.

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 bushes 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.

MAY 19, 1834.

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 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. (9/8. Pernety "Voyage aux Isles
Malouines" page 526.) 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 crystallised. 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 waterworn, 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 varies 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, the fragments have been levelled into one
continuous sheet. (9/9. "Nous n'avons pas t moins saisis
d'tonnement  la ve de l'innombrable quantit de pierres de
toutes grandeurs, bouleverses les unes sur les autres, et
cependant ranges, comme si elles avoient t amonceles
ngligemment pour remplir des ravins. On ne se lassoit pas
d'admirer les effets prodigieux de la nature."  "Pernety" page
526.) If during the earthquake 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? (9/10. 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.) 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 on 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. I have
before described the carrion-vulture of Polyborus. There are some
other hawks, owls, and a few small land-birds. The waterfowl 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,
racehorses; 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 penguin as fins, the
steamer as paddles, and the ostrich as sails: and the Apteryx 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, I made
many observations on the lower marine animals, but they are of
little general interest. (9/11. 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.) I will mention only one class of facts, relating to
certain zoophytes in the more highly organised division of that
class. Several genera (Flustra, Eschara, Cellaria, Crisia, and
others) agree in having singular movable 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
possesses 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 a
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-heads 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
organised. 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 than 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 organisations. 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 a 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.

(PLATE 43.  BERKELEY SOUND, FALKLAND ISLANDS.)


CHAPTER X.

(PLATE 44.  YORK MINSTER (BEARING SOUTH 66 DEGREES EAST.)

Tierra del Fuego, first arrival.
Good Success Bay.
An account of the Fuegians on board.
Interview with the savages.
Scenery of the forests.
Cape Horn.
Wigwam Cove.
Miserable condition of the savages.
Famines.
Cannibals.
Matricide.
Religious feelings.
Great gale.
Beagle Channel.
Ponsonby Sound.
Build wigwams and settle the Fuegians.
Bifurcation of the Beagle Channel.
Glaciers.
Return to the ship.
Second visit in the ship to the settlement.
Equality of condition amongst the natives.

TIERRA DEL FUEGO.

DECEMBER 17, 1832.

Having now finished with Patagonia and the Falkland Islands, I
will describe our first arrival in Tierra del Fuego. A little
after noon we doubled Cape St. Diego, and entered the famous
Strait of Le Maire. We kept close to the Fuegian shore, but the
outline of the rugged, inhospitable Staten-land was visible
amidst the clouds. In the afternoon we anchored in the Bay of
Good Success. While entering we were saluted in a manner becoming
the inhabitants of this savage land. A group of Fuegians partly
concealed by the entangled forest, were perched on a wild point
overhanging the sea; and as we passed by, they sprang up and
waving their tattered cloaks sent forth a loud and sonorous
shout. The savages followed the ship, and just before dark we saw
their fire, and again heard their wild cry. The harbour consists
of a fine piece of water half surrounded by low rounded mountains
of clay-slate, which are covered to the water's edge by one dense
gloomy forest. A single glance at the landscape was sufficient to
show me how widely different it was from anything I had ever
beheld. At night it blew a gale of wind, and heavy squalls from
the mountains swept past us. It would have been a bad time out at
sea, and we, as well as others, may call this Good Success Bay.

In the morning the Captain sent a party to communicate with the
Fuegians. When we came within hail, one of the four natives who
were present advanced to receive us, and began to shout most
vehemently, wishing to direct us where to land. When we were on
shore the party looked rather alarmed, but continued talking and
making gestures with great rapidity. It was without exception the
most curious and interesting spectacle I ever beheld: I could not
have believed how wide was the difference between savage and
civilised man: it is greater than between a wild and domesticated
animal, inasmuch as in man there is a greater power of
improvement. The chief spokesman was old, and appeared to be the
head of the family; the three others were powerful young men,
about six feet high. The women and children had been sent away.
These Fuegians are a very different race from the stunted,
miserable wretches farther westward; and they seem closely allied
to the famous Patagonians of the Strait of Magellan. Their only
garment consists of a mantle made of guanaco skin, with the wool
outside: this they wear just thrown over their shoulders, leaving
their persons as often exposed as covered. Their skin is of a
dirty coppery-red colour.

The old man had a fillet of white feathers tied round his head,
which partly confined his black, coarse, and entangled hair. His
face was crossed by two broad transverse bars; one, painted
bright red, reached from ear to ear and included the upper lip;
the other, white like chalk, extended above and parallel to the
first, so that even his eyelids were thus coloured. The other two
men were ornamented by streaks of black powder, made of charcoal.
The party altogether closely resembled the devils which come on
the stage in plays like Der Freischutz.

Their very attitudes were abject, and the expression of their
countenances distrustful, surprised, and startled. After we had
presented them with some scarlet cloth, which they immediately
tied round their necks, they became good friends. This was shown
by the old man patting our breasts, and making a chuckling kind
of noise, as people do when feeding chickens. I walked with the
old man, and this demonstration of friendship was repeated
several times; it was concluded by three hard slaps, which were
given me on the breast and back at the same time. He then bared
his bosom for me to return the compliment, which being done, he
seemed highly pleased. The language of these people, according to
our notions, scarcely deserves to be called articulate. Captain
Cook has compared it to a man clearing his throat, but certainly
no European ever cleared his throat with so many hoarse,
guttural, and clicking sounds.

They are excellent mimics: as often as we coughed or yawned, or
made any odd motion, they immediately imitated us. Some of our
party began to squint and look awry; but one of the young
Fuegians (whose whole face was painted black, excepting a white
band across his eyes) succeeded in making far more hideous
grimaces. They could repeat with perfect correctness each word in
any sentence we addressed them, and they remembered such words
for some time. Yet we Europeans all know how difficult it is to
distinguish apart the sounds in a foreign language. Which of us,
for instance, could follow an American Indian through a sentence
of more than three words? All savages appear to possess, to an
uncommon degree, this power of mimicry. I was told, almost in the
same words, of the same ludicrous habit among the Caffres; the
Australians, likewise, have long been notorious for being able to
imitate and describe the gait of any man, so that he may be
recognised. How can this faculty be explained? is it a
consequence of the more practised habits of perception and keener
senses, common to all men in a savage state, as compared with
those long civilised?

When a song was struck up by our party, I thought the Fuegians
would have fallen down with astonishment. With equal surprise
they viewed our dancing; but one of the young men, when asked,
had no objection to a little waltzing. Little accustomed to
Europeans as they appeared to be, yet they knew and dreaded our
firearms; nothing would tempt them to take a gun in their hands.
They begged for knives, calling them by the Spanish word
"cuchilla." They explained also what they wanted, by acting as if
they had a piece of blubber in their mouth, and then pretending
to cut instead of tear it.

I have not as yet noticed the Fuegians whom we had on board.
During the former voyage of the "Adventure" and "Beagle" in 1826
to 1830, Captain Fitz Roy seized on a party of natives, as
hostages for the loss of a boat, which had been stolen, to the
great jeopardy of a party employed on the survey; and some of
these natives, as well as a child whom he bought for a
pearl-button, he took with him to England, determining to educate
them and instruct them in religion at his own expense. To settle
these natives in their own country was one chief inducement to
Captain Fitz Roy to undertake our present voyage; and before the
Admiralty had resolved to send out this expedition, Captain Fitz
Roy had generously chartered a vessel, and would himself have
taken them back. The natives were accompanied by a missionary, R.
Matthews; of whom and of the natives, Captain Fitz Roy has
published a full and excellent account. Two men, one of whom died
in England of the smallpox, a boy and a little girl, were
originally taken; and we had now on board, York Minster, Jemmy
Button (whose name expresses his purchase-money), and Fuegia
Basket. York Minster was a full-grown, short, thick, powerful
man: his disposition was reserved, taciturn, morose, and when
excited violently passionate; his affections were very strong
towards a few friends on board; his intellect good. Jemmy Button
was a universal favourite, but likewise passionate; the
expression of his face at once showed his nice disposition. He
was merry and often laughed, and was remarkably sympathetic with
any one in pain: when the water was rough, I was often a little
sea-sick, and he used to come to me and say in a plaintive voice,
"Poor, poor fellow!" but the notion, after his aquatic life, of a
man being sea-sick, was too ludicrous, and he was generally
obliged to turn on one side to hide a smile or laugh, and then he
would repeat his "Poor, poor fellow!" He was of a patriotic
disposition; and he liked to praise his own tribe and country, in
which he truly said there were "plenty of trees," and he abused
all the other tribes: he stoutly declared that there was no Devil
in his land. Jemmy was short, thick, and fat, but vain of his
personal appearance; he used always to wear gloves, his hair was
neatly cut, and he was distressed if his well-polished shoes were
dirtied. He was fond of admiring himself in a looking glass; and
a merry-faced little Indian boy from the Rio Negro, whom we had
for some months on board, soon perceived this, and used to mock
him: Jemmy, who was always rather jealous of the attention paid
to this little boy, did not at all like this, and used to say,
with rather a contemptuous twist of his head, "Too much skylark."
It seems yet wonderful to me, when I think over all his many good
qualities, that he should have been of the same race, and
doubtless partaken of the same character, with the miserable,
degraded savages whom we first met here. Lastly, Fuegia Basket
was a nice, modest, reserved young girl, with a rather pleasing
but sometimes sullen expression, and very quick in learning
anything, especially languages. This she showed in picking up
some Portuguese and Spanish, when left on shore for only a short
time at Rio de Janeiro and Monte Video, and in her knowledge of
English. York Minster was very jealous of any attention paid to
her; for it was clear he determined to marry her as soon as they
were settled on shore.

Although all three could both speak and understand a good deal of
English, it was singularly difficult to obtain much information
from them concerning the habits of their countrymen; this was
partly owing to their apparent difficulty in understanding the
simplest alternative. Every one accustomed to very young children
knows how seldom one can get an answer even to so simple a
question as whether a thing is black OR white; the idea of black
or white seems alternately to fill their minds. So it was with
these Fuegians, and hence it was generally impossible to find
out, by cross-questioning, whether one had rightly understood
anything which they had asserted. Their sight was remarkably
acute; it is well known that sailors, from long practice, can
make out a distant object much better than a landsman; but both
York and Jemmy were much superior to any sailor on board: several
times they have declared what some distant object has been, and
though doubted by every one, they have proved right when it has
been examined through a telescope. They were quite conscious of
this power; and Jemmy, when he had any little quarrel with the
officer on watch, would say, "Me see ship, me no tell."

It was interesting to watch the conduct of the savages, when we
landed, towards Jemmy Button: they immediately perceived the
difference between him and ourselves, and held much conversation
one with another on the subject. The old man addressed a long
harangue to Jemmy, which it seems was to invite him to stay with
them. But Jemmy understood very little of their language, and
was, moreover, thoroughly ashamed of his countrymen. When York
Minster afterwards came on shore, they noticed him in the same
way, and told him he ought to shave; yet he had not twenty dwarf
hairs on his face, whilst we all wore our untrimmed beards. They
examined the colour of his skin, and compared it with ours. One
of our arms being bared, they expressed the liveliest surprise
and admiration at its whiteness, just in the same way in which I
have seen the ourang-outang do at the Zoological Gardens. We
thought that they mistook two or three of the officers, who were
rather shorter and fairer, though adorned with large beards, for
the ladies of our party. The tallest amongst the Fuegians was
evidently much pleased at his height being noticed. When placed
back to back with the tallest of the boat's crew, he tried his
best to edge on higher ground, and to stand on tiptoe. He opened
his mouth to show his teeth, and turned his face for a side view;
and all this was done with such alacrity, that I daresay he
thought himself the handsomest man in Tierra del Fuego. After our
first feeling of grave astonishment was over, nothing could be
more ludicrous than the odd mixture of surprise and imitation
which these savages every moment exhibited.

The next day I attempted to penetrate some way into the country.
Tierra del Fuego may be described as a mountainous land, partly
submerged in the sea, so that deep inlets and bays occupy the
place where valleys should exist. The mountain sides, except on
the exposed western coast, are covered from the water's edge
upwards by one great forest. The trees reach to an elevation of
between 1000 and 1500 feet, and are succeeded by a band of peat,
with minute alpine plants; and this again is succeeded by the
line of perpetual snow, which, according to Captain King, in the
Strait of Magellan descends to between 3000 and 4000 feet. To
find an acre of level land in any part of the country is most
rare. I recollect only one little flat piece near Port Famine,
and another of rather larger extent near Goeree Road. In both
places, and everywhere else, the surface is covered by a thick
bed of swampy peat. Even within the forest, the ground is
concealed by a mass of slowly putrefying vegetable matter, which,
from being soaked with water, yields to the foot.

Finding it nearly hopeless to push my way through the wood, I
followed the course of a mountain torrent. At first, from the
waterfalls and number of dead trees, I could hardly crawl along;
but the bed of the stream soon became a little more open, from
the floods having swept the sides. I continued slowly to advance
for an hour along the broken and rocky banks, and was amply
repaid by the grandeur of the scene. The gloomy depth of the
ravine well accorded with the universal signs of violence. On
every side were lying irregular masses of rock and torn-up trees;
other trees, though still erect, were decayed to the heart and
ready to fall. The entangled mass of the thriving and the fallen
reminded me of the forests within the tropics--yet there was a
difference: for in these still solitudes, Death, instead of Life,
seemed the predominant spirit. I followed the watercourse till I
came to a spot where a great slip had cleared a straight space
down the mountain side. By this road I ascended to a considerable
elevation, and obtained a good view of the surrounding woods. The
trees all belong to one kind, the Fagus betuloides; for the
number of the other species of Fagus and of the Winter's Bark is
quite inconsiderable. This beech keeps its leaves throughout the
year; but its foliage is of a peculiar brownish-green colour,
with a tinge of yellow. As the whole landscape is thus coloured,
it has a sombre, dull appearance; nor is it often enlivened by
the rays of the sun.

DECEMBER 20, 1832.

One side of the harbour is formed by a hill about 1500 feet high,
which Captain Fitz Roy has called after Sir J. Banks, in
commemoration of his disastrous excursion which proved fatal to
two men of his party, and nearly so to Dr. Solander. The
snow-storm, which was the cause of their misfortune, happened in
the middle of January, corresponding to our July, and in the
latitude of Durham! I was anxious to reach the summit of this
mountain to collect alpine plants; for flowers of any kind in the
lower parts are few in number. We followed the same watercourse
as on the previous day, till it dwindled away, and we were then
compelled to crawl blindly among the trees. These, from the
effects of the elevation and of the impetuous winds, were low,
thick and crooked. At length we reached that which from a
distance appeared like a carpet of fine green turf, but which, to
our vexation, turned out to be a compact mass of little
beech-trees about four or five feet high. They were as thick
together as box in the border of a garden, and we were obliged to
struggle over the flat but treacherous surface. After a little
more trouble we gained the peat, and then the bare slate rock.

A ridge connected this hill with another, distant some miles, and
more lofty, so that patches of snow were lying on it. As the day
was not far advanced, I determined to walk there and collect
plants along the road. It would have been very hard work, had it
not been for a well-beaten and straight path made by the
guanacos; for these animals, like sheep, always follow the same
line. When we reached the hill we found it the highest in the
immediate neighbourhood, and the waters flowed to the sea in
opposite directions. We obtained a wide view over the surrounding
country: to the north a swampy moorland extended, but to the
south we had a scene of savage magnificence, well becoming Tierra
del Fuego. There was a degree of mysterious grandeur in mountain
behind mountain, with the deep intervening valleys, all covered
by one thick, dusky mass of forest. The atmosphere, likewise, in
this climate, where gale succeeds gale, with rain, hail, and
sleet, seems blacker than anywhere else. In the Strait of
Magellan, looking due southward from Port Famine, the distant
channels between the mountains appeared from their gloominess to
lead beyond the confines of this world.

DECEMBER 21, 1832.

(PLATE 45.  CAPE HORN.)

(PLATE 46.  CAPE HORN (ANOTHER VIEW).)

The "Beagle" got under way: and on the succeeding day, favoured
to an uncommon degree by a fine easterly breeze, we closed in
with the Barnevelts, and running past Cape Deceit with its stony
peaks, about three o'clock doubled the weather-beaten Cape Horn.
The evening was calm and bright, and we enjoyed a fine view of
the surrounding isles. Cape Horn, however, demanded his tribute,
and before night sent us a gale of wind directly in our teeth. We
stood out to sea, and on the second day again made the land, when
we saw on our weather-bow this notorious promontory in its proper
form--veiled in a mist, and its dim outline surrounded by a storm
of wind and water. Great black clouds were rolling across the
heavens, and squalls of rain, with hail, swept by us with such
extreme violence, that the Captain determined to run into Wigwam
Cove. This is a snug little harbour, not far from Cape Horn; and
here, at Christmas-eve, we anchored in smooth water. The only
thing which reminded us of the gale outside was every now and
then a puff from the mountains, which made the ship surge at her
anchors.

DECEMBER 25, 1832.

Close by the cove, a pointed hill, called Kater's Peak, rises to
the height of 1700 feet. The surrounding islands all consist of
conical masses of greenstone, associated sometimes with less
regular hills of baked and altered clay-slate. This part of
Tierra del Fuego may be considered as the extremity of the
submerged chain of mountains already alluded to. The cove takes
its name of "Wigwam" from some of the Fuegian habitations; but
every bay in the neighbourhood might be so called with equal
propriety. The inhabitants, living chiefly upon shell-fish, are
obliged constantly to change their place of residence; but they
return at intervals to the same spots, as is evident from the
piles of old shells, which must often amount to many tons in
weight. These heaps can be distinguished at a long distance by
the bright green colour of certain plants, which invariably grow
on them. Among these may be enumerated the wild celery and scurvy
grass, two very serviceable plants, the use of which has not been
discovered by the natives.

The Fuegian wigwam resembles, in size and dimensions, a haycock.
It merely consists of a few broken branches stuck in the ground,
and very imperfectly thatched on one side with a few tufts of
grass and rushes. The whole cannot be the work of an hour, and it
is only used for a few days. At Goeree Roads I saw a place where
one of these naked men had slept, which absolutely offered no
more cover than the form of a hare. The man was evidently living
by himself, and York Minster said he was "very bad man," and that
probably he had stolen something. On the west coast, however, the
wigwams are rather better, for they are covered with seal-skins.
We were detained here several days by the bad weather. The
climate is certainly wretched: the summer solstice was now past,
yet every day snow fell on the hills, and in the valleys there
was rain, accompanied by sleet. The thermometer generally stood
about 45 degrees, but in the night fell to 38 or 40 degrees. From
the damp and boisterous state of the atmosphere, not cheered by a
gleam of sunshine, one fancied the climate even worse than it
really was.

While going one day on shore near Wollaston Island, we pulled
alongside a canoe with six Fuegians. These were the most abject
and miserable creatures I anywhere beheld. On the east coast the
natives, as we have seen, have guanaco cloaks, and on the west
they possess seal-skins. Amongst these central tribes the men
generally have an otter-skin, or some small scrap about as large
as a pocket-handkerchief, which is barely sufficient to cover
their backs as low down as their loins. It is laced across the
breast by strings, and according as the wind blows, it is shifted
from side to side. But these Fuegians in the canoe were quite
naked, and even one full-grown woman was absolutely so. It was
raining heavily, and the fresh water, together with the spray,
trickled down her body. In another harbour not far distant, a
woman, who was suckling a recently-born child, came one day
alongside the vessel, and remained there out of mere curiosity,
whilst the sleet fell and thawed on her naked bosom, and on the
skin of her naked baby! These poor wretches were stunted in their
growth, their hideous faces bedaubed with white paint, their
skins filthy and greasy, their hair entangled, their voices
discordant, and their gestures violent. Viewing such men, one can
hardly make oneself believe that they are fellow-creatures, and
inhabitants of the same world. It is a common subject of
conjecture what pleasure in life some of the lower animals can
enjoy: how much more reasonably the same question may be asked
with respect to these barbarians! At night five or six human
beings, naked and scarcely protected from the wind and rain of
this tempestuous climate, sleep on the wet ground coiled up like
animals. Whenever it is low water, winter or summer, night or
day, they must rise to pick shellfish from the rocks; and the
women either dive to collect sea-eggs, or sit patiently in their
canoes, and with a baited hair-line without any hook, jerk out
little fish. If a seal is killed, or the floating carcass of a
putrid whale is discovered, it is a feast; and such miserable
food is assisted by a few tasteless berries and fungi.

They often suffer from famine: I heard Mr. Low, a sealing-master
intimately acquainted with the natives of this country, give a
curious account of the state of a party of one hundred and fifty
natives on the west coast, who were very thin and in great
distress. A succession of gales prevented the women from getting
shell-fish on the rocks, and they could not go out in their
canoes to catch seal. A small party of these men one morning set
out, and the other Indians explained to him that they were going
a four days' journey for food: on their return, Low went to meet
them, and he found them excessively tired, each man carrying a
great square piece of putrid whales-blubber with a hole in the
middle, through which they put their heads, like the Gauchos do
through their ponchos or cloaks. As soon as the blubber was
brought into a wigwam, an old man cut off thin slices, and
muttering over them, broiled them for a minute, and distributed
them to the famished party, who during this time preserved a
profound silence. Mr. Low believes that whenever a whale is cast
on shore, the natives bury large pieces of it in the sand, as a
resource in time of famine; and a native boy, whom he had on
board, once found a stock thus buried. The different tribes when
at war are cannibals. From the concurrent, but quite independent
evidence of the boy taken by Mr. Low, and of Jemmy Button, it is
certainly true, that when pressed in winter by hunger they kill
and devour their old women before they kill their dogs: the boy,
being asked by Mr. Low why they did this, answered, "Doggies
catch otters, old women no." This boy described the manner in
which they are killed by being held over smoke and thus choked;
he imitated their screams as a joke, and described the parts of
their bodies which are considered best to eat. Horrid as such a
death by the hands of their friends and relatives must be, the
fears of the old women, when hunger begins to press, are more
painful to think of; we were told that they then often run away
into the mountains, but that they are pursued by the men and
brought back to the slaughter-house at their own firesides!

Captain Fitz Roy could never ascertain that the Fuegians have any
distinct belief in a future life. They sometimes bury their dead
in caves, and sometimes in the mountain forests; we do not know
what ceremonies they perform. Jemmy Button would not eat
land-birds, because "eat dead men"; they are unwilling even to
mention their dead friends. We have no reason to believe that
they perform any sort of religious worship; though perhaps the
muttering of the old man before he distributed the putrid blubber
to his famished party may be of this nature. Each family or tribe
has a wizard or conjuring doctor, whose office we could never
clearly ascertain. Jemmy believed in dreams, though not, as I
have said, in the devil: I do not think that our Fuegians were
much more superstitious than some of the sailors; for an old
quartermaster firmly believed that the successive heavy gales,
which we encountered off Cape Horn, were caused by our having the
Fuegians on board. The nearest approach to a religious feeling
which I heard of, was shown by York Minster, who, when Mr. Bynoe
shot some very young ducklings as specimens, declared in the most
solemn manner, "Oh, Mr. Bynoe, much rain, snow, blow much." This
was evidently a retributive punishment for wasting human food. In
a wild and excited manner he also related that his brother one
day, whilst returning to pick up some dead birds which he had
left on the coast, observed some feathers blown by the wind. His
brother said (York imitating his manner), "What that?" and
crawling onwards, he peeped over the cliff, and saw "wild man"
picking his birds; he crawled a little nearer, and then hurled
down a great stone and killed him. York declared for a long time
afterwards storms raged, and much rain and snow fell. As far as
we could make out, he seemed to consider the elements themselves
as the avenging agents: it is evident in this case, how
naturally, in a race a little more advanced in culture, the
elements would become personified. What the "bad wild men" were,
has always appeared to me most mysterious: from what York said,
when we found the place like the form of a hare, where a single
man had slept the night before, I should have thought that they
were thieves who had been driven from their tribes; but other
obscure speeches made me doubt this; I have sometimes imagined
that the most probable explanation was that they were insane.

The different tribes have no government or chief; yet each is
surrounded by other hostile tribes, speaking different dialects,
and separated from each other only by a deserted border or
neutral territory: the cause of their warfare appears to be the
means of subsistence. Their country is a broken mass of wild
rocks, lofty hills, and useless forests: and these are viewed
through mists and endless storms. The habitable land is reduced
to the stones on the beach; in search of food they are compelled
unceasingly to wander from spot to spot, and so steep is the
coast, that they can only move about in their wretched canoes.
They cannot know the feeling of having a home, and still less
that of domestic affection; for the husband is to the wife a
brutal master to a laborious slave. Was a more horrid deed ever
perpetrated, than that witnessed on the west coast by Byron, who
saw a wretched mother pick up her bleeding dying infant-boy, whom
her husband had mercilessly dashed on the stones for dropping a
basket of sea-eggs! How little can the higher powers of the mind
be brought into play: what is there for imagination to picture,
for reason to compare, for judgment to decide upon? to knock a
limpet from the rock does not require even cunning, that lowest
power of the mind. Their skill in some respects may be compared
to the instinct of animals; for it is not improved by experience:
the canoe, their most ingenious work, poor as it is, has remained
the same, as we know from Drake, for the last two hundred and
fifty years.

Whilst beholding these savages, one asks, Whence have they come?
What could have tempted, or what change compelled, a tribe of
men, to leave the fine regions of the north, to travel down the
Cordillera or backbone of America, to invent and build canoes,
which are not used by the tribes of Chile, Peru, and Brazil, and
then to enter on one of the most inhospitable countries within
the limits of the globe? Although such reflections must at first
seize on the mind, yet we may feel sure that they are partly
erroneous. There is no reason to believe that the Fuegians
decrease in number; therefore we must suppose that they enjoy a
sufficient share of happiness, of whatever kind it may be, to
render life worth having. Nature by making habit omnipotent, and
its effects hereditary, has fitted the Fuegian to the climate and
the productions of his miserable country.

(PLATE 47.  BAD WEATHER, MAGELLAN STRAITS.)

After having been detained six days in Wigwam Cove by very bad
weather, we put to sea on the 30th of December. Captain Fitz Roy
wished to get westward to land York and Fuegia in their own
country. When at sea we had a constant succession of gales, and
the current was against us: we drifted to 57 degrees 23' south.
On the 11th of January, 1833, by carrying a press of sail, we
fetched within a few miles of the great rugged mountain of York
Minster (so called by Captain Cook, and the origin of the name of
the elder Fuegian), when a violent squall compelled us to shorten
sail and stand out to sea. The surf was breaking fearfully on the
coast, and the spray was carried over a cliff estimated at 200
feet in height. On the 12th the gale was very heavy, and we did
not know exactly where we were: it was a most unpleasant sound to
hear constantly repeated, "Keep a good lookout to leeward." On
the 13th the storm raged with its full fury: our horizon was
narrowly limited by the sheets of spray borne by the wind. The
sea looked ominous, like a dreary waving plain with patches of
drifted snow: whilst the ship laboured heavily, the albatross
glided with its expanded wings right up the wind. At noon a great
sea broke over us, and filled one of the whale-boats, which was
obliged to be instantly cut away. The poor "Beagle" trembled at
the shock, and for a few minutes would not obey her helm; but
soon, like a good ship that she was, she righted and came up to
the wind again. Had another sea followed the first, our fate
would have been decided soon, and for ever. We had now been
twenty-four days trying in vain to get westward; the men were
worn out with fatigue, and they had not had for many nights or
days a dry thing to put on. Captain Fitz Roy gave up the attempt
to get westward by the outside coast. In the evening we ran in
behind False Cape Horn, and dropped our anchor in forty-seven
fathoms, fire flashing from the windlass as the chain rushed
round it. How delightful was that still night, after having been
so long involved in the din of the warring elements!

(PLATE 48.  FUEGIAN BASKET AND BONE WEAPONS.)

(PLATE 49.  FALSE HORN, CAPE HORN.)

JANUARY 15, 1833.

The "Beagle" anchored in Goeree Roads. Captain Fitz Roy having
resolved to settle the Fuegians, according to their wishes, in
Ponsonby Sound, four boats were equipped to carry them there
through the Beagle Channel. This channel, which was discovered by
Captain Fitz Roy during the last voyage, is a most remarkable
feature in the geography of this, or indeed of any other country:
it may be compared to the valley of Loch Ness in Scotland, with
its chain of lakes and friths. It is about one hundred and twenty
miles long, with an average breadth, not subject to any very
great variation, of about two miles; and is throughout the
greater part so perfectly straight, that the view, bounded on
each side by a line of mountains, gradually becomes indistinct in
the long distance. It crosses the southern part of Tierra del
Fuego in an east and west line, and in the middle is joined at
right angles on the south side by an irregular channel, which has
been called Ponsonby Sound. This is the residence of Jemmy
Button's tribe and family.

JANUARY 19, 1833.

Three whale-boats and the yawl, with a party of twenty-eight,
started under the command of Captain Fitz Roy. In the afternoon
we entered the eastern mouth of the channel, and shortly
afterwards found a snug little cove concealed by some surrounding
islets. Here we pitched our tents and lighted our fires. Nothing
could look more comfortable than this scene. The glassy water of
the little harbour, with the branches of the trees hanging over
the rocky beach, the boats at anchor, the tents supported by the
crossed oars, and the smoke curling up the wooded valley, formed
a picture of quiet retirement. The next day (20th) we smoothly
glided onwards in our little fleet, and came to a more inhabited
district. Few if any of these natives could ever have seen a
white man; certainly nothing could exceed their astonishment at
the apparition of the four boats. Fires were lighted on every
point (hence the name of Tierra del Fuego, or the land of fire),
both to attract our attention and to spread far and wide the
news. Some of the men ran for miles along the shore. I shall
never forget how wild and savage one group appeared: suddenly
four or five men came to the edge of an overhanging cliff; they
were absolutely naked, and their long hair streamed about their
faces; they held rugged staffs in their hands, and, springing
from the ground, they waved their arms round their heads, and
sent forth the most hideous yells.

At dinner-time we landed among a party of Fuegians. At first they
were not inclined to be friendly; for until the Captain pulled in
ahead of the other boats, they kept their slings in their hands.
We soon, however, delighted them by trifling presents, such as
tying red tape round their heads. They liked our biscuit: but one
of the savages touched with his finger some of the meat preserved
in tin cases which I was eating, and feeling it soft and cold,
showed as much disgust at it, as I should have done at putrid
blubber. Jemmy was thoroughly ashamed of his countrymen, and
declared his own tribe were quite different, in which he was
woefully mistaken. It was as easy to please as it was difficult
to satisfy these savages. Young and old, men and children, never
ceased repeating the word "yammerschooner," which means "give
me." After pointing to almost every object, one after the other,
even to the buttons on our coats, and saying their favourite word
in as many intonations as possible, they would then use it in a
neuter sense, and vacantly repeat "yammerschooner." After
yammerschoonering for any article very eagerly, they would by a
simple artifice point to their young women or little children, as
much as to say, "If you will not give it me, surely you will to
such as these."

At night we endeavoured in vain to find an uninhabited cove; and
at last were obliged to bivouac not far from a party of natives.
They were very inoffensive as long as they were few in numbers,
but in the morning (21st) being joined by others they showed
symptoms of hostility, and we thought that we should have come to
a skirmish. An European labours under great disadvantages when
treating with savages like these who have not the least idea of
the power of firearms. In the very act of levelling his musket he
appears to the savage far inferior to a man armed with a bow and
arrow, a spear, or even a sling. Nor is it easy to teach them our
superiority except by striking a fatal blow. Like wild beasts,
they do not appear to compare numbers; for each individual, if
attacked, instead of retiring, will endeavour to dash your brains
out with a stone, as certainly as a tiger under similar
circumstances would tear you. Captain Fitz Roy, on one occasion
being very anxious, from good reasons, to frighten away a small
party, first flourished a cutlass near them, at which they only
laughed; he then twice fired his pistol close to a native. The
man both times looked astounded, and carefully but quickly rubbed
his head; he then stared awhile, and gabbled to his companions,
but he never seemed to think of running away. We can hardly put
ourselves in the position of these savages, and understand their
actions. In the case of this Fuegian, the possibility of such a
sound as the report of a gun close to his ear could never have
entered his mind. He perhaps literally did not for a second know
whether it was a sound or a blow, and therefore very naturally
rubbed his head. In a similar manner, when a savage sees a mark
struck by a bullet, it may be some time before he is able at all
to understand how it is effected; for the fact of a body being
invisible from its velocity would perhaps be to him an idea
totally inconceivable. Moreover, the extreme force of a bullet
that penetrates a hard substance without tearing it, may convince
the savage that it has no force at all. Certainly I believe that
many savages of the lowest grade, such as these of Tierra del
Fuego, have seen objects struck, and even small animals killed by
the musket, without being in the least aware how deadly an
instrument it is.

JANUARY 22, 1833.

After having passed an unmolested night, in what would appear to
be neutral territory between Jemmy's tribe and the people whom we
saw yesterday, we sailed pleasantly along. I do not know anything
which shows more clearly the hostile state of the different
tribes, than these wide border or neutral tracts. Although Jemmy
Button well knew the force of our party, he was, at first,
unwilling to land amidst the hostile tribe nearest to his own. He
often told us how the savage Oens men "when the leaf red,"
crossed the mountains from the eastern coast of Tierra del Fuego,
and made inroads on the natives of this part of the country. It
was most curious to watch him when thus talking, and see his eyes
gleaming and his whole face assume a new and wild expression. As
we proceeded along the Beagle Channel, the scenery assumed a
peculiar and very magnificent character; but the effect was much
lessened from the lowness of the point of view in a boat, and
from looking along the valley, and thus losing all the beauty of
a succession of ridges. The mountains were here about three
thousand feet high, and terminated in sharp and jagged points.
They rose in one unbroken sweep from the water's edge, and were
covered to the height of fourteen or fifteen hundred feet by the
dusky-coloured forest. It was most curious to observe, as far as
the eye could range, how level and truly horizontal the line on
the mountain side was, at which trees ceased to grow: it
precisely resembled the high-water mark of driftweed on a
sea-beach.

At night we slept close to the junction of Ponsonby Sound with
the Beagle Channel. A small family of Fuegians, who were living
in the cove, were quiet and inoffensive, and soon joined our
party round a blazing fire. We were well clothed, and though
sitting close to the fire were far from too warm; yet these naked
savages, though farther off, were observed, to our great
surprise, to be streaming with perspiration at undergoing such a
roasting. They seemed, however, very well pleased, and all joined
in the chorus of the seamen's songs: but the manner in which they
were invariably a little behindhand was quite ludicrous.

During the night the news had spread, and early in the morning
(23rd) a fresh party arrived, belonging to the Tekenika, or
Jemmy's tribe. Several of them had run so fast that their noses
were bleeding, and their mouths frothed from the rapidity with
which they talked; and with their naked bodies all bedaubed with
black, white, and red, they looked like so many demoniacs who had
been fighting. (10/1. This substance, when dry, is tolerably
compact, and of little specific gravity: Professor Ehrenberg has
examined it: he states "Konig Akad. der Wissen" Berlin February
1845, that it is composed of infusoria, including fourteen
polygastrica and four phytolitharia. He says that they are all
inhabitants of fresh water; this is a beautiful example of the
results obtainable through Professor Ehrenberg's microscopic
researches; for Jemmy Button told me that it is always collected
at the bottoms of mountain-brooks. It is, moreover, a striking
fact in the geographical distribution of the infusoria, which are
well known to have very wide ranges, that all the species in this
substance, although brought from the extreme southern point of
Tierra del Fuego, are old, known forms.) We then proceeded
(accompanied by twelve canoes, each holding four or five people)
down Ponsonby Sound to the spot where poor Jemmy expected to find
his mother and relatives. He had already heard that his father
was dead; but as he had had a "dream in his head" to that effect,
he did not seem to care much about it, and repeatedly comforted
himself with the very natural reflection--"Me no help it." He was
not able to learn any particulars regarding his father's death,
as his relations would not speak about it.

Jemmy was now in a district well known to him, and guided the
boats to a quiet pretty cove named Woollya, surrounded by islets,
every one of which and every point had its proper native name. We
found here a family of Jemmy's tribe, but not his relations: we
made friends with them; and in the evening they sent a canoe to
inform Jemmy's mother and brothers. The cove was bordered by some
acres of good sloping land, not covered (as elsewhere) either by
peat or by forest-trees. Captain Fitz Roy originally intended, as
before stated, to have taken York Minster and Fuegia to their own
tribe on the west coast; but as they expressed a wish to remain
here, and as the spot was singularly favourable, Captain Fitz Roy
determined to settle here the whole party, including Matthews,
the missionary. Five days were spent in building for them three
large wigwams, in landing their goods, in digging two gardens,
and sowing seeds.

The next morning after our arrival (the 24th) the Fuegians began
to pour in, and Jemmy's mother and brothers arrived. Jemmy
recognised the stentorian voice of one of his brothers at a
prodigious distance. The meeting was less interesting than that
between a horse, turned out into a field, when he joins an old
companion. There was no demonstration of affection; they simply
stared for a short time at each other; and the mother immediately
went to look after her canoe. We heard, however, through York
that the mother had been inconsolable for the loss of Jemmy, and
had searched everywhere for him, thinking that he might have been
left after having been taken in the boat. The women took much
notice of and were very kind to Fuegia. We had already perceived
that Jemmy had almost forgotten his own language. I should think
there was scarcely another human being with so small a stock of
language, for his English was very imperfect. It was laughable,
but almost pitiable, to hear him speak to his wild brother in
English, and then ask him in Spanish ("no sabe?") whether he did
not understand him.

Everything went on peaceably during the three next days, whilst
the gardens were digging and wigwams building. We estimated the
number of natives at about one hundred and twenty. The women
worked hard, whilst the men lounged about all day long, watching
us. They asked for everything they saw, and stole what they
could. They were delighted at our dancing and singing, and were
particularly interested at seeing us wash in a neighbouring
brook; they did not pay much attention to anything else, not even
to our boats. Of all the things which York saw, during his
absence from his country, nothing seems more to have astonished
him than an ostrich, near Maldonado: breathless with astonishment
he came running to Mr. Bynoe, with whom he was out walking--"Oh,
Mr. Bynoe, oh, bird all same horse!" Much as our white skins
surprised the natives, by Mr. Low's account a negro-cook to a
sealing vessel did so more effectually, and the poor fellow was
so mobbed and shouted at that he would never go on shore again.
Everything went on so quietly, that some of the officers and
myself took long walks in the surrounding hills and woods.
Suddenly, however, on the 27th, every woman and child
disappeared. We were all uneasy at this, as neither York nor
Jemmy could make out the cause. It was thought by some that they
had been frightened by our cleaning and firing off our muskets on
the previous evening: by others, that it was owing to offence
taken by an old savage, who, when told to keep farther off, had
coolly spit in the sentry's face, and had then, by gestures acted
over a sleeping Fuegian, plainly showed, as it was said, that he
should like to cut up and eat our man. Captain Fitz Roy, to avoid
the chance of an encounter, which would have been fatal to so
many of the Fuegians, thought it advisable for us to sleep at a
cove a few miles distant. Matthews, with his usual quiet
fortitude (remarkable in a man apparently possessing little
energy of character), determined to stay with the Fuegians, who
evinced no alarm for themselves; and so we left them to pass
their first awful night.

On our return in the morning (28th) we were delighted to find all
quiet, and the men employed in their canoes spearing fish.
Captain Fitz Roy determined to send the yawl and one whale-boat
back to the ship; and to proceed with the two other boats, one
under his own command (in which he most kindly allowed me to
accompany him), and one under Mr. Hammond, to survey the western
parts of the Beagle Channel, and afterwards to return and visit
the settlement. The day to our astonishment was overpoweringly
hot, so that our skins were scorched; with this beautiful
weather, the view in the middle of the Beagle Channel was very
remarkable. Looking towards either hand, no object intercepted
the vanishing points of this long canal between the mountains.
The circumstance of its being an arm of the sea was rendered very
evident by several huge whales spouting in different directions.
(10/2. One day, off the East coast of Tierra del Fuego, we saw a
grand sight in several spermaceti whales jumping upright quite
out of the water, with the exception of their tail-fins. As they
fell down sideways, they splashed the water high up, and the
sound reverberated like a distant broadside.) On one occasion I
saw two of these monsters, probably male and female, slowly
swimming one after the other, within less than a stone's throw of
the shore, over which the beech-tree extended its branches.

We sailed on till it was dark, and then pitched our tents in a
quiet creek. The greatest luxury was to find for our beds a beach
of pebbles, for they were dry and yielded to the body. Peaty soil
is damp; rock is uneven and hard; sand gets into one's meat, when
cooked and eaten boat-fashion; but when lying in our
blanket-bags, on a good bed of smooth pebbles, we passed most
comfortable nights.

It was my watch till one o'clock. There is something very solemn
in these scenes. At no time does the consciousness in what a
remote corner of the world you are then standing come so strongly
before the mind. Everything tends to this effect; the stillness
of the night is interrupted only by the heavy breathing of the
seamen beneath the tents, and sometimes by the cry of a
night-bird. The occasional barking of a dog, heard in the
distance, reminds one that it is the land of the savage.

JANUARY 29, 1833.

Early in the morning we arrived at the point where the Beagle
Channel divides into two arms; and we entered the northern one.
The scenery here becomes even grander than before. The lofty
mountains on the north side compose the granitic axis, or
backbone of the country, and boldly rise to a height of between
three and four thousand feet, with one peak above six thousand
feet. They are covered by a wide mantle of perpetual snow, and
numerous cascades pour their waters, through the woods, into the
narrow channel below. In many parts, magnificent glaciers extend
from the mountain side to the water's edge. It is scarcely
possible to imagine anything more beautiful than the beryl-like
blue of these glaciers, and especially as contrasted with the
dead white of the upper expanse of snow. The fragments which had
fallen from the glacier into the water were floating away, and
the channel with its icebergs presented, for the space of a mile,
a miniature likeness of the Polar Sea. The boats being hauled on
shore at our dinner-hour, we were admiring from the distance of
half a mile a perpendicular cliff of ice, and were wishing that
some more fragments would fall. At last, down came a mass with a
roaring noise, and immediately we saw the smooth outline of a
wave travelling towards us. The men ran down as quickly as they
could to the boats; for the chance of their being dashed to
pieces was evident. One of the seamen just caught hold of the
bows, as the curling breaker reached it: he was knocked over and
over, but not hurt, and the boats, though thrice lifted on high
and let fall again, received no damage. This was most fortunate
for us, for we were a hundred miles distant from the ship, and we
should have been left without provisions or firearms. I had
previously observed that some large fragments of rock on the
beach had been lately displaced; but until seeing this wave I did
not understand the cause. One side of the creek was formed by a
spur of mica-slate; the head by a cliff of ice about forty feet
high; and the other side by a promontory fifty feet high, built
up of huge rounded fragments of granite and mica-slate, out of
which old trees were growing. This promontory was evidently a
moraine, heaped up at a period when the glacier had greater
dimensions.

When we reached the western mouth of this northern branch of the
Beagle Channel, we sailed amongst many unknown desolate islands,
and the weather was wretchedly bad. We met with no natives. The
coast was almost everywhere so steep that we had several times to
pull many miles before we could find space enough to pitch our
two tents: one night we slept on large round boulders, with
putrefying sea-weed between them; and when the tide rose, we had
to get up and move our blanket-bags. The farthest point westward
which we reached was Stewart Island, a distance of about one
hundred and fifty miles from our ship. We returned into the
Beagle Channel by the southern arm, and thence proceeded, with no
adventure, back to Ponsonby Sound.

FEBRUARY 6, 1833.

We arrived at Woollya. Matthews gave so bad an account of the
conduct of the Fuegians, that Captain Fitz Roy determined to take
him back to the "Beagle"; and ultimately he was left at New
Zealand, where his brother was a missionary. From the time of our
leaving, a regular system of plunder commenced; fresh parties of
the natives kept arriving: York and Jemmy lost many things, and
Matthews almost everything which had not been concealed
underground. Every article seemed to have been torn up and
divided by the natives. Matthews described the watch he was
obliged always to keep as most harassing; night and day he was
surrounded by the natives, who tried to tire him out by making an
incessant noise close to his head. One day an old man, whom
Matthews asked to leave his wigwam, immediately returned with a
large stone in his hand: another day a whole party came armed
with stones and stakes, and some of the younger men and Jemmy's
brother were crying: Matthews met them with presents. Another
party showed by signs that they wished to strip him naked and
pluck all the hairs out of his face and body. I think we arrived
just in time to save his life. Jemmy's relatives had been so vain
and foolish, that they had showed to strangers their plunder, and
their manner of obtaining it. It was quite melancholy leaving the
three Fuegians with their savage countrymen; but it was a great
comfort that they had no personal fears. York, being a powerful
resolute man, was pretty sure to get on well, together with his
wife Fuegia. Poor Jemmy looked rather disconsolate, and would
then, I have little doubt, have been glad to have returned with
us. His own brother had stolen many things from him; and as he
remarked, "What fashion call that:" he abused his countrymen,
"all bad men, no sabe (know) nothing" and, though I never heard
him swear before, "damned fools." Our three Fuegians, though they
had been only three years with civilised men, would, I am sure,
have been glad to have retained their new habits; but this was
obviously impossible. I fear it is more than doubtful whether
their visit will have been of any use to them.

In the evening, with Matthews on board, we made sail back to the
ship, not by the Beagle Channel, but by the southern coast. The
boats were heavily laden and the sea rough, and we had a
dangerous passage. By the evening of the 7th we were on board the
"Beagle" after an absence of twenty days, during which time we
had gone three hundred miles in the open boats. On the 11th
Captain Fitz Roy paid a visit by himself to the Fuegians and
found them going on well; and that they had lost very few more
things.

On the last day of February in the succeeding year (1834) the
"Beagle" anchored in a beautiful little cove at the eastern
entrance of the Beagle Channel. Captain Fitz Roy determined on
the bold, and as it proved successful, attempt to beat against
the westerly winds by the same route which we had followed in the
boats to the settlement at Woollya. We did not see many natives
until we were near Ponsonby Sound, where we were followed by ten
or twelve canoes. The natives did not at all understand the
reason of our tacking, and, instead of meeting us at each tack,
vainly strove to follow us in our zigzag course. I was amused at
finding what a difference the circumstance of being quite
superior in force made, in the interest of beholding these
savages. While in the boats I got to hate the very sound of their
voices, so much trouble did they give us. The first and last word
was "yammerschooner." When, entering some quiet little cove, we
have looked round and thought to pass a quiet night, the odious
word "yammerschooner" has shrilly sounded from some gloomy nook,
and then the little signal-smoke has curled up to spread the news
far and wide. On leaving some place we have said to each other,
"Thank heaven, we have at last fairly left these wretches!" when
one more faint halloo from an all-powerful voice, heard at a
prodigious distance, would reach our ears, and clearly could we
distinguish--"yammerschooner." But now, the more Fuegians the
merrier; and very merry work it was. Both parties laughing,
wondering, gaping at each other; we pitying them, for giving us
good fish and crabs for rags, etc.; they grasping at the chance
of finding people so foolish as to exchange such splendid
ornaments for a good supper. It was most amusing to see the
undisguised smile of satisfaction with which one young woman with
her face painted black, tied several bits of scarlet cloth round
her head with rushes. Her husband, who enjoyed the very universal
privilege in this country of possessing two wives, evidently
became jealous of all the attention paid to his young wife; and,
after a consultation with his naked beauties, was paddled away by
them.

Some of the Fuegians plainly showed that they had a fair notion
of barter. I gave one man a large nail (a most valuable present)
without making any signs for a return; but he immediately picked
out two fish, and handed them up on the point of his spear. If
any present was designed for one canoe, and it fell near another,
it was invariably given to the right owner. The Fuegian boy, whom
Mr. Low had on board, showed, by going into the most violent
passion, that he quite understood the reproach of being called a
liar, which in truth he was. We were this time, as on all former
occasions, much surprised at the little notice, or rather none
whatever, which was taken of many things, the use of which must
have been evident to the natives. Simple circumstances--such as
the beauty of scarlet cloth or blue beads, the absence of women,
our care in washing ourselves,--excited their admiration far more
than any grand or complicated object, such as our ship.
Bougainville has well remarked concerning these people, that they
treat the "chefs d'oeuvre de l'industrie humaine, comme ils
traitent les loix de la nature et ses phnomnes."

On the 5th of March we anchored in a cove at Woollya, but we saw
not a soul there. We were alarmed at this, for the natives in
Ponsonby Sound showed by gestures that there had been fighting;
and we afterwards heard that the dreaded Oens men had made a
descent. Soon a canoe, with a little flag flying, was seen
approaching, with one of the men in it washing the paint off his
face. This man was poor Jemmy,--now a thin, haggard savage, with
long disordered hair, and naked, except a bit of blanket round
his waist. We did not recognize him till he was close to us, for
he was ashamed of himself, and turned his back to the ship. We
had left him plump, fat, clean, and well-dressed;--I never saw so
complete and grievous a change. As soon however as he was
clothed, and the first flurry was over, things wore a good
appearance. He dined with Captain Fitz Roy, and ate his dinner as
tidily as formerly. He told us that he had "too much" (meaning
enough) to eat, that he was not cold, that his relations were
very good people, and that he did not wish to go back to England:
in the evening we found out the cause of this great change in
Jemmy's feelings, in the arrival of his young and nice-looking
wife. With his usual good feeling, he brought two beautiful
otter-skins for two of his best friends, and some spear-heads and
arrows made with his own hands for the Captain. He said he had
built a canoe for himself, and he boasted that he could talk a
little of his own language! But it is a most singular fact, that
he appears to have taught all his tribe some English: an old man
spontaneously announced "Jemmy Button's wife." Jemmy had lost all
his property. He told us that York Minster had built a large
canoe, and with his wife Fuegia, had several months since gone to
his own country, and had taken farewell by an act of consummate
villainy; he persuaded Jemmy and his mother to come with him, and
then on the way deserted them by night, stealing every article of
their property. (10/3. Captain Sulivan, who, since his voyage in
the "Beagle," has been employed on the survey of the Falkland
Islands, heard from a sealer in (1842?), that when in the western
part of the Strait of Magellan, he was astonished by a native
woman coming on board, who could talk some English. Without doubt
this was Fuegia Basket. She lived (I fear the term probably bears
a double interpretation) some days on board.)

Jemmy went to sleep on shore, and in the morning returned, and
remained on board till the ship got under weigh, which frightened
his wife, who continued crying violently till he got into his
canoe. He returned loaded with valuable property. Every soul on
board was heartily sorry to shake hands with him for the last
time. I do not now doubt that he will be as happy as, perhaps
happier than, if he had never left his own country. Every one
must sincerely hope that Captain Fitz Roy's noble hope may be
fulfilled, of being rewarded for the many generous sacrifices
which he made for these Fuegians, by some shipwrecked sailor
being protected by the descendants of Jemmy Button and his tribe!
When Jemmy reached the shore, he lighted a signal fire, and the
smoke curled up, bidding us a last and long farewell, as the ship
stood on her course into the open sea.

The perfect equality among the individuals composing the Fuegian
tribes must for a long time retard their civilisation. As we see
those animals, whose instinct compels them to live in society and
obey a chief, are most capable of improvement, so is it with the
races of mankind. Whether we look at it as a cause or a
consequence, the more civilised always have the most artificial
governments. For instance, the inhabitants of Otaheite, who, when
first discovered, were governed by hereditary kings, had arrived
at a far higher grade than another branch of the same people, the
New Zealanders,--who, although benefited by being compelled to
turn their attention to agriculture, were republicans in the most
absolute sense. In Tierra del Fuego, until some chief shall arise
with power sufficient to secure any acquired advantage, such as
the domesticated animals, it seems scarcely possible that the
political state of the country can be improved. At present, even
a piece of cloth given to one is torn into shreds and
distributed; and no one individual becomes richer than another.
On the other hand, it is difficult to understand how a chief can
arise till there is property of some sort by which he might
manifest his superiority and increase his power.

I believe, in this extreme part of South America, man exists in a
lower state of improvement than in any other part of the world.
The South Sea Islanders, of the two races inhabiting the Pacific,
are comparatively civilised. The Esquimaux, in his subterranean
hut, enjoys some of the comforts of life, and in his canoe, when
fully equipped, manifests much skill. Some of the tribes of
Southern Africa, prowling about in search of roots, and living
concealed on the wild and arid plains, are sufficiently wretched.
The Australian, in the simplicity of the arts of life, comes
nearest the Fuegian: he can, however, boast of his boomerang, his
spear and throwing-stick, his method of climbing trees, of
tracking animals, and of hunting. Although the Australian may be
superior in acquirements, it by no means follows that he is
likewise superior in mental capacity: indeed, from what I saw of
the Fuegians when on board and from what I have read of the
Australians, I should think the case was exactly the reverse.


CHAPTER XI.

(PLATE 50.  WOLLASTON ISLAND, TIERRA DEL FUEGO.)

(PLATE 51.  PATAGONIANS FROM CAPE GREGORY.)

Strait of Magellan.
Port Famine.
Ascent of Mount Tarn.
Forests.
Edible fungus.
Zoology.
Great Seaweed.
Leave Tierra del Fuego.
Climate.
Fruit-trees and productions of the southern coasts.
Height of snow-line on the Cordillera.
Descent of glaciers to the sea.
Icebergs formed.
Transportal of boulders.
Climate and productions of the Antarctic Islands.
Preservation of frozen carcasses.
Recapitulation.

STRAIT OF MAGELLAN.--CLIMATE OF THE SOUTHERN COASTS.

In the end of May 1834 we entered for a second time the eastern
mouth of the Strait of Magellan. The country on both sides of
this part of the Strait consists of nearly level plains, like
those of Patagonia. Cape Negro, a little within the second
Narrows, may be considered as the point where the land begins to
assume the marked features of Tierra del Fuego. On the east
coast, south of the Strait, broken park-like scenery in a like
manner connects these two countries, which are opposed to each
other in almost every feature. It is truly surprising to find in
a space of twenty miles such a change in the landscape. If we
take a rather greater distance, as between Port Famine and
Gregory Bay, that is about sixty miles, the difference is still
more wonderful. At the former place we have rounded mountains
concealed by impervious forests, which are drenched with the rain
brought by an endless succession of gales; while at Cape Gregory
there is a clear and bright blue sky over the dry and sterile
plains. The atmospheric currents, although rapid, turbulent, and
unconfined by any apparent limits, yet seem to follow, like a
river in its bed, a regularly determined course. (11/1. The
south-westerly breezes are generally very dry. January 29th,
being at anchor under Cape Gregory: a very hard gale from west by
south, clear sky with few cumuli; temperature 57 degrees,
dew-point 36 degrees,--difference 21 degrees. On January 15th, at
Port St. Julian: in the morning light winds with much rain,
followed by a very heavy squall with rain,--settled into heavy
gale with large cumuli,--cleared up, blowing very strong from
south-south-west. Temperature 60 degrees, dew-point 42
degrees,--difference 18 degrees.)

During our previous visit (in January), we had an interview at
Cape Gregory with the famous so-called gigantic Patagonians, who
gave us a cordial reception. Their height appears greater than it
really is, from their large guanaco mantles, their long flowing
hair, and general figure: on an average their height is about six
feet, with some men taller and only a few shorter; and the women
are also tall; altogether they are certainly the tallest race
which we anywhere saw. In features they strikingly resemble the
more northern Indians whom I saw with Rosas, but they have a
wilder and more formidable appearance: their faces were much
painted with red and black, and one man was ringed and dotted
with white like a Fuegian. Captain Fitz Roy offered to take any
three of them on board, and all seemed determined to be of the
three. It was long before we could clear the boat; at last we got
on board with our three giants, who dined with the Captain, and
behaved quite like gentlemen, helping themselves with knives,
forks, and spoons: nothing was so much relished as sugar. This
tribe has had so much communication with sealers and whalers,
that most of the men can speak a little English and Spanish; and
they are half civilised, and proportionally demoralised.

The next morning a large party went on shore, to barter for skins
and ostrich-feathers; fire-arms being refused, tobacco was in
greatest request, far more so than axes or tools. The whole
population of the toldos, men, women, and children, were arranged
on a bank. It was an amusing scene, and it was impossible not to
like the so-called giants, they were so thoroughly good-humoured
and unsuspecting: they asked us to come again. They seem to like
to have Europeans to live with them; and old Maria, an important
woman in the tribe, once begged Mr. Low to leave any one of his
sailors with them. They spend the greater part of the year here;
but in summer they hunt along the foot of the Cordillera:
sometimes they travel as far as the Rio Negro, 750 miles to the
north. They are well stocked with horses, each man having,
according to Mr. Low, six or seven, and all the women, and even
children, their one own horse. In the time of Sarmiento (1580)
these Indians had bows and arrows, now long since disused; they
then also possessed some horses. This is a very curious fact,
showing the extraordinarily rapid multiplication of horses in
South America. The horse was first landed at Buenos Ayres in
1537, and the colony being then for a time deserted, the horse
ran wild (11/2. Rengger "Natur. der Saugethiere von Paraguay" S.
334.); in 1580, only forty-three years afterwards, we hear of
them at the Strait of Magellan! Mr. Low informs me, that a
neighbouring tribe of foot-Indians is now changing into
horse-Indians: the tribe at Gregory Bay giving them their
worn-out horses, and sending in winter a few of their best
skilled men to hunt for them.

JUNE 1, 1834.

(PLATE 52.  PORT FAMINE, MAGELLAN.)

We anchored in the fine bay of Port Famine. It was now the
beginning of winter, and I never saw a more cheerless prospect;
the dusky woods, piebald with snow, could be only seen
indistinctly through a drizzling hazy atmosphere. We were,
however, lucky in getting two fine days. On one of these, Mount
Sarmiento, a distant mountain 6800 feet high, presented a very
noble spectacle. I was frequently surprised, in the scenery of
Tierra del Fuego, at the little apparent elevation of mountains
really lofty. I suspect it is owing to a cause which would not at
first be imagined, namely, that the whole mass, from the summit
to the water's edge, is generally in full view. I remember having
seen a mountain, first from the Beagle Channel, where the whole
sweep from the summit to the base was full in view, and then from
Ponsonby Sound across several successive ridges; and it was
curious to observe in the latter case, as each fresh ridge
afforded fresh means of judging of the distance, how the mountain
rose in height.

Before reaching Port Famine, two men were seen running along the
shore and hailing the ship. A boat was sent for them. They turned
out to be two sailors who had run away from a sealing-vessel, and
had joined the Patagonians. These Indians had treated them with
their usual disinterested hospitality. They had parted company
through accident, and were then proceeding to Port Famine in
hopes of finding some ship. I daresay they were worthless
vagabonds, but I never saw more miserable-looking ones. They had
been living for some days on mussel-shells and berries, and their
tattered clothes had been burnt by sleeping so near their fires.
They had been exposed night and day, without any shelter, to the
late incessant gales, with rain, sleet, and snow, and yet they
were in good health.

(PLATE 53.  PATAGONIAN BOLAS.)

(PLATE 54.  PATAGONIAN SPURS AND PIPE.)

During our stay at Port Famine, the Fuegians twice came and
plagued us. As there were many instruments, clothes, and men on
shore, it was thought necessary to frighten them away. The first
time a few great guns were fired, when they were far distant. It
was most ludicrous to watch through a glass the Indians, as often
as the shot struck the water, take up stones, and, as a bold
defiance, throw them towards the ship, though about a mile and a
half distant! A boat was then sent with orders to fire a few
musket-shots wide of them. The Fuegians hid themselves behind the
trees, and for every discharge of the muskets they fired their
arrows; all, however, fell short of the boat, and the officer as
he pointed at them laughed. This made the Fuegians frantic with
passion, and they shook their mantles in vain rage. At last,
seeing the balls cut and strike the trees, they ran away, and we
were left in peace and quietness. During the former voyage the
Fuegians were here very troublesome, and to frighten them a
rocket was fired at night over their wigwams; it answered
effectually, and one of the officers told me that the clamour
first raised, and the barking of the dogs, was quite ludicrous in
contrast with the profound silence which in a minute or two
afterwards prevailed. The next morning not a single Fuegian was
in the neighbourhood.

When the "Beagle" was here in the month of February, I started
one morning at four o'clock to ascend Mount Tarn, which is 2600
feet high, and is the most elevated point in this immediate
district. We went in a boat to the foot of the mountain (but
unluckily not to the best part), and then began our ascent. The
forest commences at the line of high-water mark, and during the
first two hours I gave over all hopes of reaching the summit. So
thick was the wood, that it was necessary to have constant
recourse to the compass; for every landmark, though in a
mountainous country, was completely shut out. In the deep ravines
the death-like scene of desolation exceeded all description;
outside it was blowing a gale, but in these hollows not even a
breath of wind stirred the leaves of the tallest trees. So
gloomy, cold, and wet was every part, that not even the fungi,
mosses, or ferns could flourish. In the valleys it was scarcely
possible to crawl along, they were so completely barricaded by
great mouldering trunks, which had fallen down in every
direction. When passing over these natural bridges, one's course
was often arrested by sinking knee deep into the rotten wood; at
other times, when attempting to lean against a firm tree, one was
startled by finding a mass of decayed matter ready to fall at the
slightest touch. We at last found ourselves among the stunted
trees, and then soon reached the bare ridge, which conducted us
to the summit. Here was a view characteristic of Tierra del
Fuego; irregular chains of hills, mottled with patches of snow,
deep yellowish-green valleys, and arms of the sea intersecting
the land in many directions. The strong wind was piercingly cold,
and the atmosphere rather hazy, so that we did not stay long on
the top of the mountain. Our descent was not quite so laborious
as our ascent, for the weight of the body forced a passage, and
all the slips and falls were in the right direction.

I have already mentioned the sombre and dull character of the
evergreen forests, in which two or three species of trees grow,
to the exclusion of all others. (11/3. Captain Fitz Roy informs
me that in April (our October) the leaves of those trees which
grow near the base of the mountains change colour, but not those
on the more elevated parts. I remember having read some
observations, showing that in England the leaves fall earlier in
a warm and fine autumn than in a late and cold one. The change in
the colour being here retarded in the more elevated, and
therefore colder situations, must be owing to the same general
law of vegetation. The trees of Tierra del Fuego during no part
of the year entirely shed their leaves.) Above the forest land
there are many dwarf alpine plants, which all spring from the
mass of peat, and help to compose it: these plants are very
remarkable from their close alliance with the species growing on
the mountains of Europe, though so many thousand miles distant.
The central part of Tierra del Fuego, where the clay-slate
formation occurs, is most favourable to the growth of trees; on
the outer coast the poorer granitic soil, and a situation more
exposed to the violent winds, do not allow of their attaining any
great size. Near Port Famine I have seen more large trees than
anywhere else: I measured a Winter's Bark which was four feet six
inches in girth, and several of the beech were as much as
thirteen feet. Captain King also mentions a beech which was seven
feet in diameter seventeen feet above the roots.

(PLATE 55.  CYTTARIA DARWINII.)

There is one vegetable production deserving notice from its
importance as an article of food to the Fuegians. It is a
globular, bright-yellow fungus, which grows in vast numbers on
the beech-trees. When young it is elastic and turgid, with a
smooth surface; but when mature, it shrinks, becomes tougher, and
has its entire surface deeply pitted or honeycombed, as
represented in Plate 55. This fungus belongs to a new and curious
genus (11/4. Described from my specimens and notes by the
Reverend J.M. Berkeley in the "Linnean Transactions" volume 19
page 37, under the name of Cyttaria Darwinii: the Chilean species
is the C. Berteroii. This genus is allied to Bulgaria.); I found
a second species on another species of beech in Chile: and Dr.
Hooker informs me that just lately a third species has been
discovered on a third species of beech in Van Dieman's Land. How
singular is this relationship between parasitical fungi and the
trees on which they grow, in distant parts of the world! In
Tierra del Fuego the fungus in its tough and mature state is
collected in large quantities by the women and children, and is
eaten un-cooked. It has a mucilaginous, slightly sweet taste,
with a faint smell like that of a mushroom. With the exception of
a few berries, chiefly of a dwarf arbutus, the natives eat no
vegetable food besides this fungus. In New Zealand, before the
introduction of the potato, the roots of the fern were largely
consumed; at the present time, I believe, Tierra del Fuego is the
only country in the world where a cryptogamic plant affords a
staple article of food.

The zoology of Tierra del Fuego, as might have been expected from
the nature of its climate and vegetation, is very poor. Of
mammalia, besides whales and seals, there is one bat, a kind of
mouse (Reithrodon chinchilloides), two true mice, a ctenomys
allied to or identical with the tucutuco, two foxes (Canis
Magellanicus and C. Azarae), a sea-otter, the guanaco, and a
deer. Most of these animals inhabit only the drier eastern parts
of the country; and the deer has never been seen south of the
Strait of Magellan. Observing the general correspondence of the
cliffs of soft sandstone, mud, and shingle, on the opposite sides
of the Strait, and on some intervening islands, one is strongly
tempted to believe that the land was once joined, and thus
allowed animals so delicate and helpless as the tucutuco and
Reithrodon to pass over. The correspondence of the cliffs is far
from proving any junction; because such cliffs generally are
formed by the intersection of sloping deposits, which, before the
elevation of the land, had been accumulated near the then
existing shores. It is, however, a remarkable coincidence, that
in the two large islands cut off by the Beagle Channel from the
rest of Tierra del Fuego, one has cliffs composed of matter that
may be called stratified alluvium, which front similar ones on
the opposite side of the channel,--while the other is exclusively
bordered by old crystalline rocks; in the former, called Navarin
Island, both foxes and guanacos occur; but in the latter, Hoste
Island, although similar in every respect, and only separated by
a channel a little more than half a mile wide, I have the word of
Jemmy Button for saying that neither of these animals is found.

The gloomy woods are inhabited by few birds: occasionally the
plaintive note of a white-tufted tyrant-flycatcher (Myiobius
albiceps) may be heard, concealed near the summit of the most
lofty trees; and more rarely the loud strange cry of a black
woodpecker, with a fine scarlet crest on its head. A little,
dusky-coloured wren (Scytalopus Magellanicus) hops in a skulking
manner among the entangled mass of the fallen and decaying
trunks. But the creeper (Oxyurus tupinieri) is the commonest bird
in the country. Throughout the beech forests, high up and low
down, in the most gloomy, wet, and impenetrable ravines, it may
be met with. This little bird no doubt appears more numerous than
it really is, from its habit of following with seeming curiosity
any person who enters these silent woods: continually uttering a
harsh twitter, it flutters from tree to tree, within a few feet
of the intruder's face. It is far from wishing for the modest
concealment of the true creeper (Certhia familiaris); nor does
it, like that bird, run up the trunks of trees, but
industriously, after the manner of a willow-wren, hops about, and
searches for insects on every twig and branch. In the more open
parts, three or four species of finches, a thrush, a starling (or
Icterus), two Opetiorhynchi, and several hawks and owls occur.

The absence of any species whatever in the whole class of
Reptiles is a marked feature in the zoology of this country, as
well as in that of the Falkland Islands. I do not ground this
statement merely on my own observation, but I heard it from the
Spanish inhabitants of the latter place, and from Jemmy Button
with regard to Tierra del Fuego. On the banks of the Santa Cruz,
in 50 degrees south, I saw a frog; and it is not improbable that
these animals, as well as lizards, may be found as far south as
the Strait of Magellan, where the country retains the character
of Patagonia; but within the damp and cold limit of Tierra del
Fuego not one occurs. That the climate would not have suited some
of the orders, such as lizards, might have been foreseen; but
with respect to frogs, this was not so obvious.

Beetles occur in very small numbers: it was long before I could
believe that a country as large as Scotland, covered with
vegetable productions and with a variety of stations, could be so
unproductive. The few which I found were alpine species
(Harpalidae and Heteromidae) living under stones. The
vegetable-feeding Chrysomelidae, so eminently characteristic of
the Tropics, are here almost entirely absent (11/5. I believe I
must except one alpine Haltica, and a single specimen of a
Melasoma. Mr. Waterhouse informs me, that of the Harpalidae there
are eight or nine species--the forms of the greater number being
very peculiar; of Heteromera, four or five species; of
Rhyncophora, six or seven; and of the following families one
species in each: Staphylinidae, Elateridae, Cebrionidae,
Melolonthidae. The species in the other orders are even fewer. In
all the orders, the scarcity of the individuals is even more
remarkable than that of the species. Most of the Coleoptera have
been carefully described by Mr. Waterhouse in the "Annals of
Natural History."); I saw very few flies, butterflies, or bees,
and no crickets or Orthoptera. In the pools of water I found but
few aquatic beetles, and not any fresh-water shells: Succinea at
first appears an exception; but here it must be called a
terrestrial shell, for it lives on the damp herbage far from
water. Land-shells could be procured only in the same alpine
situations with the beetles. I have already contrasted the
climate as well as the general appearance of Tierra del Fuego
with that of Patagonia; and the difference is strongly
exemplified in the entomology. I do not believe they have one
species in common; certainly the general character of the insects
is widely different.

If we turn from the land to the sea, we shall find the latter as
abundantly stocked with living creatures as the former is poorly
so. In all parts of the world a rocky and partially protected
shore perhaps supports, in a given space, a greater number of
individual animals than any other station. There is one marine
production which, from its importance, is worthy of a particular
history. It is the kelp, or Macrocystis pyrifera. This plant
grows on every rock from low-water mark to a great depth, both on
the outer coast and within the channels. (11/6. Its geographical
range is remarkably wide; it is found from the extreme southern
islets near Cape Horn, as far north on the eastern coast
(according to information given me by Mr. Stokes) as latitude 43
degrees,--but on the western coast, as Dr. Hooker tells me, it
extends to the R. San Francisco in California, and perhaps even
to Kamtschatka. We thus have an immense range in latitude; and as
Cook, who must have been well acquainted with the species, found
it at Kerguelen Land, no less than 140 degrees in longitude.) I
believe, during the voyages of the "Adventure" and "Beagle," not
one rock near the surface was discovered which was not buoyed by
this floating weed. The good service it thus affords to vessels
navigating near this stormy land is evident; and it certainly has
saved many a one from being wrecked. I know few things more
surprising than to see this plant growing and flourishing amidst
those great breakers of the western ocean, which no mass of rock,
let it be ever so hard, can long resist. The stem is round,
slimy, and smooth, and seldom has a diameter of so much as an
inch. A few taken together are sufficiently strong to support the
weight of the large loose stones, to which in the inland channels
they grow attached; and yet some of these stones were so heavy
that when drawn to the surface, they could scarcely be lifted
into a boat by one person. Captain Cook, in his second voyage,
says that this plant at Kerguelen Land rises from a greater depth
than twenty-four fathoms; "and as it does not grow in a
perpendicular direction, but makes a very acute angle with the
bottom, and much of it afterwards spreads many fathoms on the
surface of the sea, I am well warranted to say that some of it
grows to the length of sixty fathoms and upwards." I do not
suppose the stem of any other plant attains so great a length as
three hundred and sixty feet, as stated by Captain Cook. Captain
Fitz Roy, moreover, found it growing up from the greater depth of
forty-five fathoms. (11/7. "Voyages of the 'Adventure' and
'Beagle'" volume 1 page 363. It appears that seaweed grows
extremely quick. Mr. Stephenson found Wilson's "Voyage round
Scotland" volume 2 page 228, that a rock uncovered only at
spring-tides, which had been chiselled smooth in November, on the
following May, that is, within six months afterwards, was thickly
covered with Fucus digitatus two feet, and F. esculentus six
feet, in length.) The beds of this sea-weed, even when of not
great breadth, make excellent natural floating breakwaters. It is
quite curious to see, in an exposed harbour, how soon the waves
from the open sea, as they travel through the straggling stems,
sink in height, and pass into smooth water.

The number of living creatures of all Orders, whose existence
intimately depends on the kelp, is wonderful. A great volume
might be written, describing the inhabitants of one of these beds
of seaweed. Almost all the leaves, excepting those that float on
the surface, are so thickly incrusted with corallines as to be of
a white colour. We find exquisitely delicate structures, some
inhabited by simple hydra-like polypi, others by more organised
kinds, and beautiful compound Ascidiae. On the leaves, also,
various patelliform shells, Trochi, uncovered molluscs, and some
bivalves are attached. Innumerable crustacea frequent every part
of the plant. On shaking the great entangled roots, a pile of
small fish, shells, cuttlefish, crabs of all orders, sea-eggs,
starfish, beautiful Holothuriae, Planariae, and crawling
nereidous animals of a multitude of forms, all fall out together.
Often as I recurred to a branch of the kelp, I never failed to
discover animals of new and curious structures. In Chiloe, where
the kelp does not thrive very well, the numerous shells,
corallines, and crustacea are absent; but there yet remain a few
of the Flustraceae, and some compound Ascidiae; the latter,
however, are of different species from those in Tierra del Fuego;
we see here the fucus possessing a wider range than the animals
which use it as an abode. I can only compare these great aquatic
forests of the southern hemisphere with the terrestrial ones in
the intertropical regions. Yet if in any country a forest was
destroyed, I do not believe nearly so many species of animals
would perish as would here, from the destruction of the kelp.
Amidst the leaves of this plant numerous species of fish live,
which nowhere else could find food or shelter; with their
destruction the many cormorants and other fishing birds, the
otters, seals, and porpoises, would soon perish also; and lastly,
the Fuegian savage, the miserable lord of this miserable land,
would redouble his cannibal feast, decrease in numbers, and
perhaps cease to exist.

JUNE 8, 1834.

We weighed anchor early in the morning and left Port Famine.
Captain Fitz Roy determined to leave the Strait of Magellan by
the Magdalen Channel, which had not long been discovered. Our
course lay due south, down that gloomy passage which I have
before alluded to as appearing to lead to another and worse
world. The wind was fair, but the atmosphere was very thick; so
that we missed much curious scenery. The dark ragged clouds were
rapidly driven over the mountains, from their summits nearly down
to their bases. The glimpses which we caught through the dusky
mass were highly interesting; jagged points, cones of snow, blue
glaciers, strong outlines, marked on a lurid sky, were seen at
different distances and heights. In the midst of such scenery we
anchored at Cape Turn, close to Mount Sarmiento, which was then
hidden in the clouds. At the base of the lofty and almost
perpendicular sides of our little cove there was one deserted
wigwam, and it alone reminded us that man sometimes wandered into
these desolate regions. But it would be difficult to imagine a
scene where he seemed to have fewer claims or less authority. The
inanimate works of nature--rock, ice, snow, wind, and water, all
warring with each other, yet combined against man--here reigned
in absolute sovereignty.

JUNE 9, 1834.

In the morning we were delighted by seeing the veil of mist
gradually rise from Sarmiento, and display it to our view. This
mountain, which is one of the highest in Tierra del Fuego, has an
altitude of 6800 feet. Its base, for about an eighth of its total
height, is clothed by dusky woods, and above this a field of snow
extends to the summit. These vast piles of snow, which never
melt, and seem destined to last as long as the world holds
together, present a noble and even sublime spectacle. The outline
of the mountain was admirably clear and defined. Owing to the
abundance of light reflected from the white and glittering
surface, no shadows were cast on any part; and those lines which
intersected the sky could alone be distinguished: hence the mass
stood out in the boldest relief. Several glaciers descended in a
winding course from the upper great expanse of snow to the
sea-coast: they may be likened to great frozen Niagaras; and
perhaps these cataracts of blue ice are full as beautiful as the
moving ones of water. By night we reached the western part of the
channel; but the water was so deep that no anchorage could be
found. We were in consequence obliged to stand off and on in this
narrow arm of the sea, during a pitch-dark night of fourteen
hours long.

JUNE 10, 1834.

In the morning we made the best of our way into the open Pacific.
The western coast generally consists of low, rounded, quite
barren hills of granite and greenstone. Sir J. Narborough called
one part South Desolation, because it is "so desolate a land to
behold:" and well indeed might he say so. Outside the main
islands there are numberless scattered rocks on which the long
swell of the open ocean incessantly rages. We passed out between
the East and West Furies; and a little farther northward there
are so many breakers that the sea is called the Milky Way. One
sight of such a coast is enough to make a landsman dream for a
week about shipwrecks, peril, and death; and with this sight we
bade farewell for ever to Tierra del Fuego.

The following discussion on the climate of the southern parts of
the continent with relation to its productions, on the snow-line,
on the extraordinarily low descent of the glaciers, and on the
zone of perpetual congelation in the antarctic islands, may be
passed over by any one not interested in these curious subjects,
or the final recapitulation alone may be read. I shall, however,
here give only an abstract, and must refer for details to the
Thirteenth Chapter and the Appendix of the former edition of this
work.

ON THE CLIMATE AND PRODUCTIONS OF TIERRA DEL FUEGO AND OF THE
SOUTH-WEST COAST.

The following table gives the mean temperature of Tierra del
Fuego, the Falkland Islands, and, for comparison, that of
Dublin:--

                  Latitude    Summer   Winter   Mean of Summer
                  degrees '   Temp.    Temp.      and Winter 
                              deg. F.  deg. F.      deg. F.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Tierra del Fuego  53 38 S.    50       33.08         41.54
Falkland Islands  51 38 S.    51        --            --
Dublin            53 21 N.    59.54    39.2          49.37

Hence we see that the central part of Tierra del Fuego is colder
in winter, and no less than 9 1/2 degrees less hot in summer,
than Dublin. According to von Buch the mean temperature of July
(not the hottest month in the year) at Saltenfiord in Norway, is
as high as 57.8 degrees, and this place is actually 13 degrees
nearer the pole than Port Famine! (11/8. With respect to Tierra
del Fuego, the results are deduced from the observations of
Captain King "Geographical Journal" 1830, and those taken on
board the "Beagle." For the Falkland Islands, I am indebted to
Captain Sulivan for the mean of the mean temperature (reduced
from careful observation at midnight, 8 A.M., noon, and 8 P.M.)
of the three hottest months, namely, December, January, and
February. The temperature of Dublin is taken from Barton.)
Inhospitable as this climate appears to our feelings, evergreen
trees flourish luxuriantly under it. Humming-birds may be seen
sucking the flowers, and parrots feeding on the seeds of the
Winter's Bark, in latitude 55 degrees south. I have already
remarked to what a degree the sea swarms with living creatures;
and the shells (such as the Patellae, Fissurellae, Chitons, and
Barnacles), according to Mr. G.B. Sowerby, are of a much larger
size, and of a more vigorous growth, than the analogous species
in the northern hemisphere. A large Voluta is abundant in
southern Tierra del Fuego and the Falkland Islands. At Bahia
Blanca, in latitude 39 degrees south, the most abundant shells
were three species of Oliva (one of large size), one or two
Volutas, and a Terebra. Now these are amongst the best
characterised tropical forms. It is doubtful whether even one
small species of Oliva exists on the southern shores of Europe,
and there are no species of the two other genera. If a geologist
were to find in latitude 39 degrees on the coast of Portugal a
bed containing numerous shells belonging to three species of
Oliva, to a Voluta, and Terebra, he would probably assert that
the climate at the period of their existence must have been
tropical; but, judging from South America, such an inference
might be erroneous.

The equable, humid, and windy climate of Tierra del Fuego
extends, with only a small increase of heat, for many degrees
along the west coast of the continent. The forests for 600 miles
northward of Cape Horn, have a very similar aspect. As a proof of
the equable climate, even for 300 or 400 miles still farther
northward, I may mention that in Chiloe (corresponding in
latitude with the northern parts of Spain) the peach seldom
produces fruit, whilst strawberries and apples thrive to
perfection. Even the crops of barley and wheat are often brought
into the houses to be dried and ripened. (11/9. Ageros "Descrip.
Hist. de la Prov. de Chilo" 1791 page 94.) At Valdivia (in the
same latitude of 40 degrees with Madrid) grapes and figs ripen,
but are not common; olives seldom ripen even partially, and
oranges not at all. These fruits, in corresponding latitudes in
Europe, are well known to succeed to perfection; and even in this
continent, at the Rio Negro, under nearly the same parallel with
Valdivia, sweet potatoes (convolvulus) are cultivated; and
grapes, figs, olives, oranges, water and musk melons, produce
abundant fruit. Although the humid and equable climate of Chiloe,
and of the coast northward and southward of it, is so
unfavourable to our fruits, yet the native forests, from latitude
45 to 38 degrees, almost rival in luxuriance those of the glowing
intertropical regions. Stately trees of many kinds, with smooth
and highly coloured barks, are loaded by parasitical
monocotyledonous plants; large and elegant ferns are numerous,
and arborescent grasses entwine the trees into one entangled mass
to the height of thirty or forty feet above the ground.
Palm-trees grow in latitude 37 degrees; an arborescent grass,
very like a bamboo, in 40 degrees; and another closely allied
kind, of great length, but not erect, flourishes even as far
south as 45 degrees south.

An equable climate, evidently due to the large area of sea
compared with the land, seems to extend over the greater part of
the southern hemisphere; and as a consequence, the vegetation
partakes of a semi-tropical character. Tree-ferns thrive
luxuriantly in Van Diemen's Land (latitude 45 degrees), and I
measured one trunk no less than six feet in circumference. An
arborescent fern was found by Forster in New Zealand in 46
degrees, where orchideous plants are parasitical on the trees. In
the Auckland Islands, ferns, according to Dr. Dieffenbach have
trunks so thick and high that they may be almost called
tree-ferns; and in these islands, and even as far south as
latitude 55 degrees in the Macquarie Islands, parrots abound.
(11/10. See the German Translation of this Journal; and for the
other facts Mr. Brown's Appendix to Flinders's "Voyage.")

ON THE HEIGHT OF THE SNOW-LINE, AND ON THE DESCENT OF THE
GLACIERS, IN SOUTH AMERICA.

For the detailed authorities for the following table, I must
refer to the former edition:--

                         Height in feet 
Latitude                 of Snow-line          Observer
----------------------------------------------------------------
Equatorial region;
mean result              15,748                Humboldt.

Bolivia, latitude
16 to 18 degrees south   17,000                Pentland.

Central Chile, latitude
33 degrees south         14,500 to 15,000       Gillies and the
Author.

Chiloe, latitude
41 to 43 degrees south   6,000                 Officers of the 
                                               "Beagle" and the
Author.

Tierra del Fuego
54 degrees south         3,500 - 4,000  King.

As the height of the plane of perpetual snow seems chiefly to be
determined by the extreme heat of the summer, rather than by the
mean temperature of the year, we ought not to be surprised at its
descent in the Strait of Magellan, where the summer is so cool,
to only 3500 or 4000 feet above the level of the sea; although in
Norway, we must travel to between latitude 67 and 70 degrees
north, that is, about 14 degrees nearer the pole, to meet with
perpetual snow at this low level. The difference in height,
namely, about 9000 feet, between the snow-line on the Cordillera
behind Chiloe (with its highest points ranging from only 5600 to
7500 feet) and in central Chile (a distance of only 9 degrees of
latitude), is truly wonderful. (11/11. On the Cordillera of
central Chile, I believe the snow-line varies exceedingly in
height in different summers. I was assured that during one very
dry and long summer, all the snow disappeared from Aconcagua,
although it attains the prodigious height of 23,000 feet. It is
probable that much of the snow at these great heights is
evaporated, rather than thawed.) The land from the southward of
Chiloe to near Concepcion (latitude 37 degrees) is hidden by one
dense forest dripping with moisture. The sky is cloudy, and we
have seen how badly the fruits of southern Europe succeed. In
central Chile, on the other hand, a little northward of
Concepcion, the sky is generally clear, rain does not fall for
the seven summer months, and southern European fruits succeed
admirably; and even the sugar-cane has been cultivated. (11/12.
Miers's "Chile" volume 1 page 415. It is said that the sugar-cane
grew at Ingenio, latitude 32 to 33 degrees, but not in sufficient
quantity to make the manufacture profitable. In the valley of
Quillota, south of Ingenio, I saw some large date-palm trees.) No
doubt the plane of perpetual snow undergoes the above remarkable
flexure of 9000 feet, unparalleled in other parts of the world,
not far from the latitude of Concepcion, where the land ceases to
be covered with forest-trees; for trees in South America indicate
a rainy climate, and rain a clouded sky and little heat in
summer.

(PLATE 56.  EYRE SOUND.)

The descent of glaciers to the sea must, I conceive, mainly
depend (subject, of course, to a proper supply of snow in the
upper region) on the lowness of the line of perpetual snow on
steep mountains near the coast. As the snow-line is so low in
Tierra del Fuego, we might have expected that many of the
glaciers would have reached the sea. Nevertheless I was
astonished when I first saw a range, only from 3000 to 4000 feet
in height, in the latitude of Cumberland, with every valley
filled with streams of ice descending to the sea-coast. Almost
every arm of the sea, which penetrates to the interior higher
chain, not only in Tierra del Fuego, but on the coast for 650
miles northwards, is terminated by "tremendous and astonishing
glaciers," as described by one of the officers on the survey.
Great masses of ice frequently fall from these icy cliffs, and
the crash reverberates like the broadside of a man-of-war through
the lonely channels. These falls, as noticed in the last chapter,
produce great waves which break on the adjoining coasts. It is
known that earthquakes frequently cause masses of earth to fall
from sea-cliffs: how terrific, then, would be the effect of a
severe shock (and such occur here (11/13. Bulkeley's and Cummin's
"Faithful Narrative of the Loss of the Wager." The earthquake
happened August 25, 1741.)) on a body like a glacier, already in
motion, and traversed by fissures! I can readily believe that the
water would be fairly beaten back out of the deepest channel, and
then, returning with an overwhelming force, would whirl about
huge masses of rock like so much chaff. In Eyre's Sound, in the
latitude of Paris, there are immense glaciers, and yet the
loftiest neighbouring mountain is only 6200 feet high. In this
Sound, about fifty icebergs were seen at one time floating
outwards, and one of them must have been AT LEAST 168 feet in
total height. Some of the icebergs were loaded with blocks of no
inconsiderable size, of granite and other rocks, different from
the clay-slate of the surrounding mountains.

(PLATE 57.  GLACIER IN GULF OF PENAS.)

The glacier farthest from the Pole, surveyed during the voyages
of the "Adventure" and "Beagle," is in latitude 46 degrees 50',
in the Gulf of Penas. It is 15 miles long, and in one part 7
broad, and descends to the sea-coast. But even a few miles
northward of this glacier, in the Laguna de San Rafael, some
Spanish missionaries encountered "many icebergs, some great, some
small, and others middle-sized," in a narrow arm of the sea, on
the 22 of the month corresponding with our June, and in a
latitude corresponding with that of the Lake of Geneva! (11/14.
Ageros "Desc. Hist. de Chilo" page 227.)

In Europe, the most southern glacier which comes down to the sea
is met with, according to Von Buch, on the coast of Norway, in
latitude 67 degrees. Now, this is more than 20 degrees of
latitude, or 1230 miles, nearer the pole than the Laguna de San
Rafael. The position of the glaciers at this place and in the
Gulf of Penas may be put even in a more striking point of view,
for they descend to the sea-coast within 7 1/2 degrees of
latitude, or 450 miles, of a harbour, where three species of
Oliva, a Voluta, and a Terebra, are the commonest shells, within
less than 9 degrees from where palms grow, within 4 1/2 degrees
of a region where the jaguar and puma range over the plains, less
than 2 1/2 degrees from arborescent grasses, and (looking to the
westward in the same hemisphere) less than 2 degrees from
orchideous parasites, and within a single degree of tree-ferns!

These facts are of high geological interest with respect to the
climate of the northern hemisphere, at the period when boulders
were transported. I will not here detail how simply the theory of
icebergs being charged with fragments of rock explains the origin
and position of the gigantic boulders of eastern Tierra del
Fuego, on the high plain of Santa Cruz, and on the island of
Chiloe. In Tierra del Fuego the greater number of boulders lie on
the lines of old sea-channels, now converted into dry valleys by
the elevation of the land. They are associated with a great
unstratified formation of mud and sand, containing rounded and
angular fragments of all sizes, which has originated in the
repeated ploughing up of the sea-bottom by the stranding of
icebergs, and by the matter transported on them. (11/15.
"Geological Transactions" volume 6 page 415.) Few geologists now
doubt that those erratic boulders which lie near lofty mountains
have been pushed forward by the glaciers themselves, and that
those distant from mountains, and embedded in subaqueous
deposits, have been conveyed thither either on icebergs, or
frozen in coast-ice. The connection between the transportal of
boulders and the presence of ice in some form, is strikingly
shown by their geographical distribution over the earth. In South
America they are not found farther than 48 degrees of latitude,
measured from the southern pole; in North America it appears that
the limit of their transportal extends to 53 1/2 degrees from the
northern pole; but in Europe to not more than 40 degrees of
latitude, measured from the same point. On the other hand, in the
intertropical parts of America, Asia, and Africa, they have never
been observed; nor at the Cape of Good Hope, nor in Australia.
(11/16. I have given details (the first, I believe, published) on
this subject in the first edition, and in the Appendix to it. I
have there shown that the apparent exceptions to the absence of
erratic boulders in certain hot countries are due to erroneous
observations; several statements there given I have since found
confirmed by various authors.)

ON THE CLIMATE AND PRODUCTIONS OF THE ANTARCTIC ISLANDS.

Considering the rankness of the vegetation in Tierra del Fuego,
and on the coast northward of it, the condition of the islands
south and south-west of America is truly surprising. Sandwich
Land, in the latitude of the north part of Scotland, was found by
Cook, during the hottest month of the year, "covered many fathoms
thick with everlasting snow;" and there seems to be scarcely any
vegetation. Georgia, an island 96 miles long and 10 broad, in the
latitude of Yorkshire, "in the very height of summer, is in a
manner wholly covered with frozen snow." It can boast only of
moss, some tufts of grass, and wild burnet; it has only one
land-bird (Anthus correndera), yet Iceland, which is 10 degrees
nearer the pole, has, according to Mackenzie, fifteen land-birds.
The South Shetland Islands, in the same latitude as the southern
half of Norway, possess only some lichens, moss, and a little
grass; and Lieutenant Kendall found the bay in which he was at
anchor, beginning to freeze at a period corresponding with our
8th of September. (11/17. "Geographical Journal" 1830 pages 65,
66.) The soil here consists of ice and volcanic ashes
interstratified; and at a little depth beneath the surface it
must remain perpetually congealed, for Lieutenant Kendall found
the body of a foreign sailor which had long been buried, with the
flesh and all the features perfectly preserved. It is a singular
fact that on the two great continents in the northern hemisphere
(but not in the broken land of Europe between them) we have the
zone of perpetually frozen under-soil in a low latitude--namely,
in 56 degrees in North America at the depth of three feet (11/18.
Richardson's "Append. to Back's Exped." and Humboldt's "Fragm.
Asiat." tome 2 page 386.), and in 62 degrees in Siberia at the
depth of twelve to fifteen feet--as the result of a directly
opposite condition of things to those of the southern hemisphere.
On the northern continents, the winter is rendered excessively
cold by the radiation from a large area of land into a clear sky,
nor is it moderated by the warmth-bringing currents of the sea;
the short summer, on the other hand, is hot. In the Southern
Ocean the winter is not so excessively cold, but the summer is
far less hot, for the clouded sky seldom allows the sun to warm
the ocean, itself a bad absorbent of heat: and hence the mean
temperature of the year, which regulates the zone of perpetually
congealed under-soil, is low. It is evident that a rank
vegetation, which does not so much require heat as it does
protection from intense cold, would approach much nearer to this
zone of perpetual congelation under the equable climate of the
southern hemisphere, than under the extreme climate of the
northern continents.

The case of the sailor's body perfectly preserved in the icy soil
of the South Shetland Islands (latitude 62 to 63 degrees south),
in a rather lower latitude than that (latitude 64 degrees north)
under which Pallas found the frozen rhinoceros in Siberia, is
very interesting. Although it is a fallacy, as I have endeavoured
to show in a former chapter, to suppose that the larger
quadrupeds require a luxuriant vegetation for their support,
nevertheless it is important to find in the South Shetland
Islands a frozen under-soil within 360 miles of the forest-clad
islands near Cape Horn, where, as far as the BULK of vegetation
is concerned, any number of great quadrupeds might be supported.
The perfect preservation of the carcasses of the Siberian
elephants and rhinoceroses is certainly one of the most wonderful
facts in geology; but independently of the imagined difficulty of
supplying them with food from the adjoining countries, the whole
case is not, I think, so perplexing as it has generally been
considered. The plains of Siberia, like those of the Pampas,
appear to have been formed under the sea, into which rivers
brought down the bodies of many animals; of the greater number of
these only the skeletons have been preserved, but of others the
perfect carcass. Now it is known that in the shallow sea on the
Arctic coast of America the bottom freezes (11/19. Messrs. Dease
and Simpson, in "Geographical Journal" volume 8 pages 218 and
220.), and does not thaw in spring so soon as the surface of the
land, moreover, at greater depths, where the bottom of the sea
does not freeze, the mud a few feet beneath the top layer might
remain even in summer below 32 degrees, as is the case on the
land with the soil at the depth of a few feet. At still greater
depths the temperature of the mud and water would probably not be
low enough to preserve the flesh; and hence, carcasses drifted
beyond the shallow parts near an arctic coast, would have only
their skeletons preserved: now in the extreme northern parts of
Siberia bones are infinitely numerous, so that even islets are
said to be almost composed of them (11/20. Cuvier "Ossemens
Fossiles" tome 1 page 151, from Billing's "Voyage."); and those
islets lie no less than ten degrees of latitude north of the
place where Pallas found the frozen rhinoceros. On the other
hand, a carcass washed by a flood into a shallow part of the
Arctic Sea, would be preserved for an indefinite period, if it
were soon afterwards covered with mud sufficiently thick to
prevent the heat of the summer water penetrating to it; and if,
when the sea-bottom was upraised into land, the covering was
sufficiently thick to prevent the heat of the summer air and sun
thawing and corrupting it.

(PLATE 58.  FLORA OF MAGELLAN.)

(PLATE 59.  MACROCYSTIS PYRIFERA, OR MAGELLAN KELP.)

RECAPITULATION.

I will recapitulate the principal facts with regard to the
climate, ice-action, and organic productions of the southern
hemisphere, transposing the places in imagination to Europe, with
which we are so much better acquainted. Then, near Lisbon, the
commonest sea-shells, namely, three species of Oliva, a Voluta,
and a Terebra, would have a tropical character. In the southern
provinces of France, magnificent forests, intwined by arborescent
grasses and with the trees loaded with parasitical plants, would
hide the face of the land. The puma and the jaguar would haunt
the Pyrenees. In the latitude of Mont Blanc, but on an island as
far westward as Central North America, tree-ferns and parasitical
Orchideae would thrive amidst the thick woods. Even as far north
as central Denmark humming-birds would be seen fluttering about
delicate flowers, and parrots feeding amidst the evergreen woods;
and in the sea there we should have a Voluta, and all the shells
of large size and vigorous growth. Nevertheless, on some islands
only 360 miles northward of our new Cape Horn in Denmark, a
carcass buried in the soil (or if washed into a shallow sea, and
covered up with mud) would be preserved perpetually frozen. If
some bold navigator attempted to penetrate northward of these
islands, he would run a thousand dangers amidst gigantic
icebergs, on some of which he would see great blocks of rock
borne far away from their original site. Another island of large
size in the latitude of southern Scotland, but twice as far to
the west, would be "almost wholly covered with everlasting snow,"
and would have each bay terminated by ice-cliffs, whence great
masses would be yearly detached: this island would boast only of
a little moss, grass, and burnet, and a titlark would be its only
land inhabitant. From our new Cape Horn in Denmark, a chain of
mountains, scarcely half the height of the Alps, would run in a
straight line due southward; and on its western flank every deep
creek of the sea, or fiord, would end in "bold and astonishing
glaciers." These lonely channels would frequently reverberate
with the falls of ice, and so often would great waves rush along
their coasts; numerous icebergs, some as tall as cathedrals, and
occasionally loaded with "no inconsiderable blocks of rock,"
would be stranded on the outlying islets; at intervals violent
earthquakes would shoot prodigious masses of ice into the waters
below. Lastly, some missionaries attempting to penetrate a long
arm of the sea, would behold the not lofty surrounding mountains,
sending down their many grand icy streams to the sea-coast, and
their progress in the boats would be checked by the innumerable
floating icebergs, some small and some great; and this would have
occurred on our twenty-second of June, and where the Lake of
Geneva is now spread out! (11/21. In the former edition and
Appendix, I have given some facts on the transportal of erratic
boulders and icebergs in the Antarctic Ocean. This subject has
lately been treated excellently by Mr. Hayes, in the "Boston
Journal" volume 4 page 426. The author does not appear aware of a
case published by me "Geographical Journal" volume 9 page 528, of
a gigantic boulder embedded in an iceberg in the Antarctic Ocean,
almost certainly one hundred miles distant from any land, and
perhaps much more distant. In the Appendix I have discussed at
length the probability (at that time hardly thought of) of
icebergs, when stranded, grooving and polishing rocks, like
glaciers. This is now a very commonly received opinion; and I
cannot still avoid the suspicion that it is applicable even to
such cases as that of the Jura. Dr. Richardson has assured me
that the icebergs off North America push before them pebbles and
sand, and leave the submarine rocky flats quite bare; it is
hardly possible to doubt that such ledges must be polished and
scored in the direction of the set of the prevailing currents.
Since writing that Appendix I have seen in North Wales "London
Philosophical Magazine" volume 21 page 180) the adjoining action
of glaciers and floating icebergs.


CHAPTER XII.

(PLATE 60.  TROCHILUS FORFICATUS.)

Valparaiso.
Excursion to the Foot of the Andes.
Structure of the land.
Ascend the Bell of Quillota.
Shattered masses of greenstone.
Immense valleys.
Mines.
State of miners.
Santiago.
Hot-baths of Cauquenes.
Gold-mines.
Grinding-mills.
Perforated stones.
Habits of the Puma.
El Turco and Tapacolo.
Humming-birds.

CENTRAL CHILE.

JULY 23, 1834.

The "Beagle" anchored late at night in the bay of Valparaiso, the
chief seaport of Chile. When morning came, everything appeared
delightful. After Tierra del Fuego, the climate felt quite
delicious--the atmosphere so dry, and the heavens so clear and
blue with the sun shining brightly, that all nature seemed
sparkling with life. The view from the anchorage is very pretty.
The town is built at the very foot of a range of hills, about
1600 feet high, and rather steep. From its position, it consists
of one long, straggling street, which runs parallel to the beach,
and wherever a ravine comes down, the houses are piled up on each
side of it. The rounded hills, being only partially protected by
a very scanty vegetation, are worn into numberless little
gullies, which expose a singularly bright red soil. From this
cause, and from the low whitewashed houses with tile roofs, the
view reminded me of St. Cruz in Teneriffe. In a north-easterly
direction there are some fine glimpses of the Andes: but these
mountains appear much grander when viewed from the neighbouring
hills: the great distance at which they are situated can then
more readily be perceived. The volcano of Aconcagua is
particularly magnificent. This huge and irregularly conical mass
has an elevation greater than that of Chimborazo; for, from
measurements made by the officers in the "Beagle," its height is
no less than 23,000 feet. The Cordillera, however, viewed from
this point, owe the greater part of their beauty to the
atmosphere through which they are seen. When the sun was setting
in the Pacific, it was admirable to watch how clearly their
rugged outlines could be distinguished, yet how varied and how
delicate were the shades of their colour.

I had the good fortune to find living here Mr. Richard Corfield,
an old schoolfellow and friend, to whose hospitality and kindness
I was greatly indebted, in having afforded me a most pleasant
residence during the "Beagle's" stay in Chile. The immediate
neighbourhood of Valparaiso is not very productive to the
naturalist. During the long summer the wind blows steadily from
the southward, and a little off shore, so that rain never falls;
during the three winter months, however, it is sufficiently
abundant. The vegetation in consequence is very scanty: except in
some deep valleys there are no trees, and only a little grass and
a few low bushes are scattered over the less steep parts of the
hills. When we reflect that at the distance of 350 miles to the
south, this side of the Andes is completely hidden by one
impenetrable forest, the contrast is very remarkable. I took
several long walks while collecting objects of natural history.
The country is pleasant for exercise. There are many very
beautiful flowers; and, as in most other dry climates, the plants
and shrubs possess strong and peculiar odours--even one's clothes
by brushing through them became scented. I did not cease from
wonder at finding each succeeding day as fine as the foregoing.
What a difference does climate make in the enjoyment of life! How
opposite are the sensations when viewing black mountains
half-enveloped in clouds, and seeing another range through the
light blue haze of a fine day! The one for a time may be very
sublime; the other is all gaiety and happy life.

AUGUST 14, 1834.

I set out on a riding excursion, for the purpose of geologising
the basal parts of the Andes, which alone at this time of the
year are not shut up by the winter snow. Our first day's ride was
northward along the sea-coast. After dark we reached the Hacienda
of Quintero, the estate which formerly belonged to Lord Cochrane.
My object in coming here was to see the great beds of shells
which stand some yards above the level of the sea, and are burnt
for lime. The proofs of the elevation of this whole line of coast
are unequivocal: at the height of a few hundred feet old-looking
shells are numerous, and I found some at 1300 feet. These shells
either lie loose on the surface, or are embedded in a
reddish-black vegetable mould. I was much surprised to find under
the microscope that this vegetable mould is really marine mud,
full of minute particles of organic bodies.

AUGUST 15, 1834.

We returned towards the valley of Quillota. The country was
exceedingly pleasant; just such as poets would call pastoral:
green open lawns, separated by small valleys with rivulets, and
the cottages, we may suppose of the shepherds, scattered on the
hill-sides. We were obliged to cross the ridge of the
Chilicauquen. At its base there were many fine evergreen
forest-trees, but these flourished only in the ravines, where
there was running water. Any person who had seen only the country
near Valparaiso would never have imagined that there had been
such picturesque spots in Chile. As soon as we reached the brow
of the Sierra, the valley of Quillota was immediately under our
feet. The prospect was one of remarkable artificial luxuriance.
The valley is very broad and quite flat, and is thus easily
irrigated in all parts. The little square gardens are crowded
with orange and olive trees and every sort of vegetable. On each
side huge bare mountains rise, and this from the contrast renders
the patchwork valley the more pleasing. Whoever called
"Valparaiso" the "Valley of Paradise," must have been thinking of
Quillota. We crossed over to the Hacienda de San Isidro, situated
at the very foot of the Bell Mountain.

(PLATE 61.  HACIENDA, CONDOR, CACTUS, ETC.)

Chile, as may be seen in the maps, is a narrow strip of land
between the Cordillera and the Pacific; and this strip is itself
traversed by several mountain-lines, which in this part run
parallel to the great range. Between these outer lines and the
main Cordillera, a succession of level basins, generally opening
into each other by narrow passages, extend far to the southward:
in these, the principal towns are situated, as San Felipe,
Santiago, San Fernando. These basins or plains, together with the
transverse flat valleys (like that of Quillota) which connect
them with the coast, I have no doubt are the bottoms of ancient
inlets and deep bays, such as at the present day intersect every
part of Tierra del Fuego and the western coast. Chile must
formerly have resembled the latter country in the configuration
of its land and water. The resemblance was occasionally shown
strikingly when a level fog-bank covered, as with a mantle, all
the lower parts of the country: the white vapour curling into the
ravines, beautifully represented little coves and bays; and here
and there a solitary hillock peeping up showed that it had
formerly stood there as an islet. The contrast of these flat
valleys and basins with the irregular mountains gave the scenery
a character which to me was new and very interesting.

From the natural slope to seaward of these plains, they are very
easily irrigated, and in consequence singularly fertile. Without
this process the land would produce scarcely anything, for during
the whole summer the sky is cloudless. The mountains and hills
are dotted over with bushes and low trees, and excepting these
the vegetation is very scanty. Each landowner in the valley
possesses a certain portion of hill-country, where his half-wild
cattle, in considerable numbers, manage to find sufficient
pasture. Once every year there is a grand "rodeo," when all the
cattle are driven down, counted, and marked, and a certain number
separated to be fattened in the irrigated fields. Wheat is
extensively cultivated, and a good deal of Indian corn: a kind of
bean is, however, the staple article of food for the common
labourers. The orchards produce an overflowing abundance of
peaches, figs, and grapes. With all these advantages the
inhabitants of the country ought to be much more prosperous than
they are.

AUGUST 16, 1834.

The mayor-domo of the Hacienda was good enough to give me a guide
and fresh horses; and in the morning we set out to ascend the
Campana, or Bell Mountain, which is 6400 feet high. The paths
were very bad, but both the geology and scenery amply repaid the
trouble. We reached, by the evening, a spring called the Agua del
Guanaco, which is situated at a great height. This must be an old
name, for it is very many years since a guanaco drank its waters.
During the ascent I noticed that nothing but bushes grew on the
northern slope, whilst on the southern slope there was a bamboo
about fifteen feet high. In a few places there were palms, and I
was surprised to see one at an elevation of at least 4500 feet.
These palms are, for their family, ugly trees. Their stem is very
large, and of a curious form, being thicker in the middle than at
the base or top. They are excessively numerous in some parts of
Chile, and valuable on account of a sort of treacle made from the
sap. On one estate near Petorca they tried to count them, but
failed, after having numbered several hundred thousand. Every
year in the early spring, in August, very many are cut down, and
when the trunk is lying on the ground, the crown of leaves is
lopped off. The sap then immediately begins to flow from the
upper end, and continues so doing for some months: it is,
however, necessary that a thin slice should be shaved off from
that end every morning, so as to expose a fresh surface. A good
tree will give ninety gallons, and all this must have been
contained in the vessels of the apparently dry trunk. It is said
that the sap flows much more quickly on those days when the sun
is powerful; and likewise, that it is absolutely necessary to
take care, in cutting down the tree, that it should fall with its
head upwards on the side of the hill; for if it falls down the
slope, scarcely any sap will flow; although in that case one
would have thought that the action would have been aided, instead
of checked, by the force of gravity. The sap is concentrated by
boiling, and is then called treacle, which it very much resembles
in taste.

We unsaddled our horses near the spring, and prepared to pass the
night. The evening was fine, and the atmosphere so clear that the
masts of the vessels at anchor in the bay of Valparaiso, although
no less than twenty-six geographical miles distant, could be
distinguished clearly as little black streaks. A ship doubling
the point under sail appeared as a bright white speck. Anson
expresses much surprise, in his voyage, at the distance at which
his vessels were discovered from the coast; but he did not
sufficiently allow for the height of the land and the great
transparency of the air.

The setting of the sun was glorious; the valleys being black,
whilst the snowy peaks of the Andes yet retained a ruby tint.
When it was dark, we made a fire beneath a little arbour of
bamboos, fried our charqui (or dried slips of beef), took our
mat, and were quite comfortable. There is an inexpressible charm
in thus living in the open air. The evening was calm and
still;--the shrill noise of the mountain bizcacha, and the faint
cry of a goatsucker, were occasionally to be heard. Besides
these, few birds, or even insects, frequent these dry, parched
mountains.

AUGUST 17, 1834.

In the morning we climbed up the rough mass of greenstone which
crowns the summit. This rock, as frequently happens, was much
shattered and broken into huge angular fragments. I observed,
however, one remarkable circumstance, namely, that many of the
surfaces presented every degree of freshness--some appearing as
if broken the day before, whilst on others lichens had either
just become, or had long grown, attached. I so fully believed
that this was owing to the frequent earthquakes, that I felt
inclined to hurry from below each loose pile. As one might very
easily be deceived in a fact of this kind, I doubted its
accuracy, until ascending Mount Wellington, in Van Diemen's Land,
where earthquakes do not occur; and there I saw the summit of the
mountain similarly composed and similarly shattered, but all the
blocks appeared as if they had been hurled into their present
position thousands of years ago.

We spent the day on the summit, and I never enjoyed one more
thoroughly. Chile, bounded by the Andes and the Pacific, was seen
as in a map. The pleasure from the scenery, in itself beautiful,
was heightened by the many reflections which arose from the mere
view of the Campana range with its lesser parallel ones, and of
the broad valley of Quillota directly intersecting them. Who can
avoid wondering at the force which has upheaved these mountains,
and even more so at the countless ages which it must have
required to have broken through, removed, and levelled whole
masses of them? It is well in this case to call to mind the vast
shingle and sedimentary beds of Patagonia, which, if heaped on
the Cordillera, would increase its height by so many thousand
feet. When in that country, I wondered how any mountain-chain
could have supplied such masses, and not have been utterly
obliterated. We must not now reverse the wonder, and doubt
whether all-powerful time can grind down mountains--even the
gigantic Cordillera--into gravel and mud.

The appearance of the Andes was different from that which I had
expected. The lower line of the snow was of course horizontal,
and to this line the even summits of the range seemed quite
parallel. Only at long intervals a group of points or a single
cone showed where a volcano had existed, or does now exist. Hence
the range resembled a great solid wall, surmounted here and there
by a tower, and making a most perfect barrier to the country.

Almost every part of the hill had been drilled by attempts to
open gold-mines: the rage for mining has left scarcely a spot in
Chile unexamined. I spent the evening as before, talking round
the fire with my two companions. The Guasos of Chile, who
correspond to the Gauchos of the Pampas, are, however, a very
different set of beings. Chile is the more civilised of the two
countries, and the inhabitants, in consequence, have lost much
individual character. Gradations in rank are much more strongly
marked: the Guaso does not by any means consider every man his
equal; and I was quite surprised to find that my companions did
not like to eat at the same time with myself. This feeling of
inequality is a necessary consequence of the existence of an
aristocracy of wealth. It is said that some few of the greater
landowners possess from five to ten thousand pounds sterling per
annum: an inequality of riches which I believe is not met with in
any of the cattle-breeding countries eastward of the Andes. A
traveller does not here meet that unbounded hospitality which
refuses all payment, but yet is so kindly offered that no
scruples can be raised in accepting it. Almost every house in
Chile will receive you for the night, but a trifle is expected to
be given in the morning; even a rich man will accept two or three
shillings. The Gaucho, although he may be a cutthroat, is a
gentleman; the Guaso is in few respects better, but at the same
time a vulgar, ordinary fellow. The two men, although employed
much in the same manner, are different in their habits and
attire; and the peculiarities of each are universal in their
respective countries. The Gaucho seems part of his horse, and
scorns to exert himself excepting when on its back; the Guaso may
be hired to work as a labourer in the fields. The former lives
entirely on animal food; the latter almost wholly on vegetable.
We do not here see the white boots, the broad drawers, and
scarlet chilipa; the picturesque costume of the Pampas. Here,
common trousers are protected by black and green worsted
leggings. The poncho, however, is common to both. The chief pride
of the Guaso lies in his spurs, which are absurdly large. I
measured one which was six inches in the DIAMETER of the rowel,
and the rowel itself contained upwards of thirty points. The
stirrups are on the same scale, each consisting of a square,
carved block of wood, hollowed out, yet weighing three or four
pounds. The Guaso is perhaps more expert with the lazo than the
Gaucho; but, from the nature of the country, he does not know the
use of the bolas.

AUGUST 18, 1834.

We descended the mountain, and passed some beautiful little
spots, with rivulets and fine trees. Having slept at the same
hacienda as before, we rode during the two succeeding days up the
valley, and passed through Quillota, which is more like a
collection of nursery-gardens than a town. The orchards were
beautiful, presenting one mass of peach-blossoms. I saw, also, in
one or two places the date-palm; it is a most stately tree; and I
should think a group of them in their native Asiatic or African
deserts must be superb. We passed likewise San Felipe, a pretty
straggling town like Quillota. The valley in this part expands
into one of those great bays or plains, reaching to the foot of
the Cordillera, which have been mentioned as forming so curious a
part of the scenery of Chile. In the evening we reached the mines
of Jajuel, situated in a ravine at the flank of the great chain.
I stayed here five days. My host, the superintendent of the mine,
was a shrewd but rather ignorant Cornish miner. He had married a
Spanish woman, and did not mean to return home; but his
admiration for the mines of Cornwall remained unbounded. Amongst
many other questions, he asked me, "Now that George Rex is dead,
how many more of the family of Rexes are yet alive?" This Rex
certainly must be a relation of the great author Finis, who wrote
all books!

These mines are of copper, and the ore is all shipped to Swansea,
to be smelted. Hence the mines have an aspect singularly quiet,
as compared to those in England: here no smoke, furnaces, or
great steam-engines, disturb the solitude of the surrounding
mountains.

The Chilian government, or rather the old Spanish law, encourages
by every method the searching for mines. The discoverer may work
a mine on any ground, by paying five shillings; and before paying
this he may try, even in the garden of another man, for twenty
days.

It is now well known that the Chilian method of mining is the
cheapest. My host says that the two principal improvements
introduced by foreigners have been, first, reducing by previous
roasting the copper pyrites--which, being the common ore in
Cornwall, the English miners were astounded on their arrival to
find thrown away as useless: secondly, stamping and washing the
scoriae from the old furnaces--by which process particles of
metal are recovered in abundance. I have actually seen mules
carrying to the coast, for transportation to England, a cargo of
such cinders. But the first case is much the most curious. The
Chilian miners were so convinced that copper pyrites contained
not a particle of copper, that they laughed at the Englishmen for
their ignorance, who laughed in turn, and bought their richest
veins for a few dollars. It is very odd that, in a country where
mining had been extensively carried on for many years, so simple
a process as gently roasting the ore to expel the sulphur
previous to smelting it, had never been discovered. A few
improvements have likewise been introduced in some of the simple
machinery; but even to the present day, water is removed from
some mines by men carrying it up the shaft in leathern bags!

(PLATE 62.  CHILIAN MINER.)

The labouring men work very hard. They have little time allowed
for their meals, and during summer and winter they begin when it
is light, and leave off at dark. They are paid one pound sterling
a month, and their food is given them: this for breakfast
consists of sixteen figs and two small loaves of bread; for
dinner, boiled beans; for supper, broken roasted wheat grain.
They scarcely ever taste meat; as, with the twelve pounds per
annum, they have to clothe themselves and support their families.
The miners who work in the mine itself have twenty-five shillings
per month, and are allowed a little charqui. But these men come
down from their bleak habitations only once in every fortnight or
three weeks.

(PLATE 63.  CACTUS (Cereus Peruviana).)

During my stay here I thoroughly enjoyed scrambling about these
huge mountains. The geology, as might have been expected, was
very interesting. The shattered and baked rocks, traversed by
innumerable dikes of greenstone, showed what commotions had
formerly taken place. The scenery was much the same as that near
the Bell of Quillota--dry barren mountains, dotted at intervals
by bushes with a scanty foliage. The cactuses, or rather
opuntias, were here very numerous. I measured one of a spherical
figure, which, including the spines, was six feet and four inches
in circumference. The height of the common cylindrical, branching
kind, is from twelve to fifteen feet, and the girth (with spines)
of the branches between three and four feet.

A heavy fall of snow on the mountains prevented me, during the
last two days, from making some interesting excursions. I
attempted to reach a lake which the inhabitants, from some
unaccountable reason, believe to be an arm of the sea. During a
very dry season, it was proposed to attempt cutting a channel
from it for the sake of the water, but the padre, after a
consultation, declared it was too dangerous, as all Chile would
be inundated, if, as generally supposed, the lake was connected
with the Pacific. We ascended to a great height, but becoming
involved in the snow-drifts failed in reaching this wonderful
lake, and had some difficulty in returning. I thought we should
have lost our horses; for there was no means of guessing how deep
the drifts were, and the animals, when led, could only move by
jumping. The black sky showed that a fresh snowstorm was
gathering, and we therefore were not a little glad when we
escaped. By the time we reached the base the storm commenced, and
it was lucky for us that this did not happen three hours earlier
in the day.

AUGUST 26, 1834.

We left Jajuel and again crossed the basin of San Felipe. The day
was truly Chilian: glaringly bright, and the atmosphere quite
clear. The thick and uniform covering of newly-fallen snow
rendered the view of the volcano of Aconcagua and the main chain
quite glorious. We were now on the road to Santiago, the capital
of Chile. We crossed the Cerro del Talguen, and slept at a little
rancho. The host, talking about the state of Chile as compared to
other countries, was very humble: "Some see with two eyes, and
some with one, but for my part I do not think that Chile sees
with any."

AUGUST 27, 1834.

After crossing many low hills we descended into the small
land-locked plain of Guitron. In the basins, such as this one,
which are elevated from one thousand to two thousand feet above
the sea, two species of acacia, which are stunted in their forms,
and stand wide apart from each other, grow in large numbers.
These trees are never found near the sea-coast; and this gives
another characteristic feature to the scenery of these basins. We
crossed a low ridge which separates Guitron from the great plain
on which Santiago stands. The view was here pre-eminently
striking: the dead level surface, covered in parts by woods of
acacia, and with the city in the distance, abutting horizontally
against the base of the Andes, whose snowy peaks were bright with
the evening sun. At the first glance of this view, it was quite
evident that the plain represented the extent of a former inland
sea. As soon as we gained the level road we pushed our horses
into a gallop, and reached the city before it was dark.

I stayed a week in Santiago and enjoyed myself very much. In the
morning I rode to various places on the plain, and in the evening
dined with several of the English merchants, whose hospitality at
this place is well known. A never-failing source of pleasure was
to ascend the little hillock of rock (St. Lucia) which projects
in the middle of the city. The scenery certainly is most
striking, and, as I have said, very peculiar. I am informed that
this same character is common to the cities on the great Mexican
platform. Of the town I have nothing to say in detail: it is not
so fine or so large as Buenos Ayres, but is built after the same
model. I arrived here by a circuit to the north; so I resolved to
return to Valparaiso by a rather longer excursion to the south of
the direct road.

SEPTEMBER 5, 1834.

By the middle of the day we arrived at one of the suspension
bridges made of hide, which cross the Maypu, a large turbulent
river a few leagues southward of Santiago. These bridges are very
poor affairs. The road, following the curvature of the suspending
ropes, is made of bundles of sticks placed close together. It was
full of holes, and oscillated rather fearfully, even with the
weight of a man leading his horse. In the evening we reached a
comfortable farm-house, where there were several very pretty
seoritas. They were much horrified at my having entered one of
their churches out of mere curiosity. They asked me, "Why do you
not become a Christian--for our religion is certain?" I assured
them I was a sort of Christian; but they would not hear of
it--appealing to my own words, "Do not your padres, your very
bishops, marry?" The absurdity of a bishop having a wife
particularly struck them: they scarcely knew whether to be most
amused or horror-struck at such an enormity.

SEPTEMBER 6, 1834.

We proceeded due south, and slept at Rancagua. The road passed
over the level but narrow plain, bounded on one side by lofty
hills, and on the other by the Cordillera. The next day we turned
up the valley of the Rio Cachapual, in which the hot-baths of
Cauquenes, long celebrated for their medicinal properties, are
situated. The suspension bridges, in the less frequented parts,
are generally taken down during the winter when the rivers are
low. Such was the case in this valley, and we were therefore
obliged to cross the stream on horseback. This is rather
disagreeable, for the foaming water, though not deep, rushes so
quickly over the bed of large rounded stones, that one's head
becomes quite confused, and it is difficult even to perceive
whether the horse is moving onward or standing still. In summer,
when the snow melts, the torrents are quite impassable; their
strength and fury are then extremely great, as might be plainly
seen by the marks which they had left. We reached the baths in
the evening, and stayed there five days, being confined the two
last by heavy rain. The buildings consist of a square of
miserable little hovels, each with a single table and bench. They
are situated in a narrow deep valley just without the central
Cordillera. It is a quiet, solitary spot, with a good deal of
wild beauty.

The mineral springs of Cauquenes burst forth on a line of
dislocation, crossing a mass of stratified rock, the whole of
which betrays the action of heat. A considerable quantity of gas
is continually escaping from the same orifices with the water.
Though the springs are only a few yards apart, they have very
different temperatures; and this appears to be the result of an
unequal mixture of cold water: for those with the lowest
temperature have scarcely any mineral taste. After the great
earthquake of 1822 the springs ceased, and the water did not
return for nearly a year. They were also much affected by the
earthquake of 1835; the temperature being suddenly changed from
118 to 92 degrees. (12/1. Caldcleugh in "Philosophical
Transactions"  1836.) It seems probable that mineral waters
rising deep from the bowels of the earth would always be more
deranged by subterranean disturbances than those nearer the
surface. The man who had charge of the baths assured me that in
summer the water is hotter and more plentiful than in winter. The
former circumstance I should have expected, from the less
mixture, during the dry season, of cold water; but the latter
statement appears very strange and contradictory. The periodical
increase during the summer, when rain never falls, can, I think,
only be accounted for by the melting of the snow: yet the
mountains which are covered by snow during that season are three
or four leagues distant from the springs. I have no reason to
doubt the accuracy of my informer, who, having lived on the spot
for several years, ought to be well acquainted with the
circumstance,--which, if true, certainly is very curious: for we
must suppose that the snow-water, being conducted through porous
strata to the regions of heat, is again thrown up to the surface
by the line of dislocated and injected rocks at Cauquenes; and
the regularity of the phenomenon would seem to indicate that in
this district heated rock occurred at a depth not very great.

One day I rode up the valley to the farthest inhabited spot.
Shortly above that point, the Cachapual divides into two deep
tremendous ravines, which penetrate directly into the great
range. I scrambled up a peaked mountain, probably more than six
thousand feet high. Here, as indeed everywhere else, scenes of
the highest interest presented themselves. It was by one of these
ravines that Pincheira entered Chile and ravaged the neighbouring
country. This is the same man whose attack on an estancia at the
Rio Negro I have described. He was a renegade half-caste
Spaniard, who collected a great body of Indians together and
established himself by a stream in the Pampas, which place none
of the forces sent after him could ever discover. From this point
he used to sally forth, and crossing the Cordillera by passes
hitherto unattempted, he ravaged the farm-houses and drove the
cattle to his secret rendezvous. Pincheira was a capital
horseman, and he made all around him equally good, for he
invariably shot any one who hesitated to follow him. It was
against this man, and other wandering Indian tribes, that Rosas
waged the war of extermination.

SEPTEMBER 13, 1834.

(PLATE 64.  CORDILLERAS FROM SANTIAGO DE CHILE.)

We left the baths of Cauquenes, and, rejoining the main road,
slept at the Rio Claro. From this place we rode to the town of
San Fernando. Before arriving there, the last land-locked basin
had expanded into a great plain, which extended so far to the
south that the snowy summits of the more distant Andes were seen
as if above the horizon of the sea. San Fernando is forty leagues
from Santiago; and it was my farthest point southward; for we
here turned at right angles towards the coast. We slept at the
gold-mines of Yaquil, which are worked by Mr. Nixon, an American
gentleman, to whose kindness I was much indebted during the four
days I stayed at his house. The next morning we rode to the
mines, which are situated at the distance of some leagues, near
the summit of a lofty hill. On the way we had a glimpse of the
lake Tagua-tagua, celebrated for its floating islands, which have
been described by M. Gay. (12/2. "Annales des Sciences
Naturelles" March, 1833. M. Gay, a zealous and able naturalist,
was then occupied in studying every branch of natural history
throughout the kingdom of Chile.) They are composed of the stalks
of various dead plants intertwined together, and on the surface
of which other living ones take root. Their form is generally
circular, and their thickness from four to six feet, of which the
greater part is immersed in the water. As the wind blows, they
pass from one side of the lake to the other, and often carry
cattle and horses as passengers.

When we arrived at the mine, I was struck by the pale appearance
of many of the men, and inquired from Mr. Nixon respecting their
condition. The mine is 450 feet deep, and each man brings up
about 200 pounds weight of stone. With this load they have to
climb up the alternate notches cut in the trunks of trees, placed
in a zigzag line up the shaft. Even beardless young men, eighteen
and twenty years old, with little muscular development of their
bodies (they are quite naked excepting drawers) ascend with this
great load from nearly the same depth. A strong man, who is not
accustomed to this labour, perspires most profusely, with merely
carrying up his own body. With this very severe labour, they live
entirely on boiled beans and bread. They would prefer having
bread alone; but their masters, finding that they cannot work so
hard upon this, treat them like horses, and make them eat the
beans. Their pay is here rather more than at the mines of Jajuel,
being from 24 to 28 shillings per month. They leave the mine only
once in three weeks; when they stay with their families for two
days. One of the rules of this mine sounds very harsh, but
answers pretty well for the master. The only method of stealing
gold is to secrete pieces of the ore, and take them out as
occasion may offer. Whenever the major-domo finds a lump thus
hidden, its full value is stopped out of the wages of all the
men; who thus, without they all combine, are obliged to keep
watch over each other.

When the ore is brought to the mill, it is ground into an
impalpable powder; the process of washing removes all the lighter
particles, and amalgamation finally secures the gold-dust. The
washing, when described, sounds a very simple process; but it is
beautiful to see how the exact adaptation of the current of water
to the specific gravity of the gold so easily separates the
powdered matrix from the metal. The mud which passes from the
mills is collected into pools, where it subsides, and every now
and then is cleared out, and thrown into a common heap. A great
deal of chemical action then commences, salts of various kinds
effloresce on the surface, and the mass becomes hard. After
having been left for a year or two, and then rewashed, it yields
gold; and this process may be repeated even six or seven times;
but the gold each time becomes less in quantity, and the
intervals required (as the inhabitants say, to generate the
metal) are longer. There can be no doubt that the chemical
action, already mentioned, each time liberates fresh gold from
some combination. The discovery of a method to effect this before
the first grinding would without doubt raise the value of
gold-ores many fold. It is curious to find how the minute
particles of gold, being scattered about and not corroding, at
last accumulate in some quantity. A short time since a few
miners, being out of work, obtained permission to scrape the
ground round the house and mill; they washed the earth thus got
together, and so procured thirty dollars worth of gold. This is
an exact counterpart of what takes place in nature. Mountains
suffer degradation and wear away, and with them the metallic
veins which they contain. The hardest rock is worn into
impalpable mud, the ordinary metals oxidate, and both are
removed; but gold, platina, and a few others are nearly
indestructible, and from their weight, sinking to the bottom, are
left behind. After whole mountains have passed through this
grinding mill, and have been washed by the hand of nature, the
residue becomes metalliferous, and man finds it worth his while
to complete the task of separation.

Bad as the above treatment of the miners appears, it is gladly
accepted of by them; for the condition of the labouring
agriculturists is much worse. Their wages are lower, and they
live almost exclusively on beans. This poverty must be chiefly
owing to the feudal-like system on which the land is tilled: the
landowner gives a small plot of ground to the labourer, for
building on and cultivating, and in return has his services (or
those of a proxy) for every day of his life, without any wages.
Until a father has a grown-up son, who can by his labour pay the
rent, there is no one, except on occasional days, to take care of
his own patch of ground. Hence extreme poverty is very common
among the labouring classes in this country.

There are some old Indian ruins in this neighbourhood, and I was
shown one of the perforated stones, which Molina mentions as
being found in many places in considerable numbers. They are of a
circular flattened form, from five to six inches in diameter,
with a hole passing quite through the centre. It has generally
been supposed that they were used as heads to clubs, although
their form does not appear at all well adapted for that purpose.
Burchell states that some of the tribes in Southern Africa dig up
roots by the aid of a stick pointed at one end, the force and
weight of which are increased by a round stone with a hole in it,
into which the other end is firmly wedged. (12/3. Burchell's
"Travels" volume 2 page 45.) It appears probable that the Indians
of Chile formerly used some such rude agricultural instrument.

One day, a German collector in natural history, of the name of
Renous, called, and nearly at the same time an old Spanish
lawyer. I was amused at being told the conversation which took
place between them. Renous speaks Spanish so well that the old
lawyer mistook him for a Chilian. Renous alluding to me, asked
him what he thought of the King of England sending out a
collector to their country, to pick up lizards and beetles, and
to break stones? The old gentleman thought seriously for some
time, and then said, "It is not well,--hay un gato encerrado aqui
(there is a cat shut up here). No man is so rich as to send out
people to pick up such rubbish. I do not like it: if one of us
were to go and do such things in England, do not you think the
King of England would very soon send us out of his country?" And
this old gentleman, from his profession, belongs to the better
informed and more intelligent classes! Renous himself, two or
three years before, left in a house at San Fernando some
caterpillars, under charge of a girl to feed, that they might
turn into butterflies. This was rumoured through the town, and at
last the Padres and Governor consulted together, and agreed it
must be some heresy. Accordingly, when Renous returned, he was
arrested.

SEPTEMBER 19, 1834.

We left Yaquil, and followed the flat valley, formed like that of
Quillota, in which the Rio Tinderidica flows. Even at these few
miles south of Santiago the climate is much damper; in
consequence there were fine tracts of pasturage which were not
irrigated. (20th.) We followed this valley till it expanded into
a great plain, which reaches from the sea to the mountains west
of Rancagua. We shortly lost all trees and even bushes; so that
the inhabitants are nearly as badly off for firewood as those in
the Pampas. Never having heard of these plains, I was much
surprised at meeting with such scenery in Chile. The plains
belong to more than one series of different elevations, and they
are traversed by broad flat-bottomed valleys; both of which
circumstances, as in Patagonia, bespeak the action of the sea on
gently rising land. In the steep cliffs bordering these valleys
there are some large caves, which no doubt were originally formed
by the waves: one of these is celebrated under the name of Cueva
del Obispo; having formerly been consecrated. During the day I
felt very unwell, and from that time till the end of October did
not recover.

SEPTEMBER 22, 1834.

We continued to pass over green plains without a tree. The next
day we arrived at a house near Navedad, on the sea-coast, where a
rich Haciendero gave us lodgings. I stayed here the two ensuing
days, and although very unwell, managed to collect from the
tertiary formation some marine shells.

SEPTEMBER 24, 1834.

Our course was now directed towards Valparaiso, which with great
difficulty I reached on the 27th, and was there confined to my
bed till the end of October. During this time I was an inmate in
Mr. Corfield's house, whose kindness to me I do not know how to
express.

I will here add a few observations on some of the animals and
birds of Chile. The Puma, or South American Lion, is not
uncommon. This animal has a wide geographical range; being found
from the equatorial forests, throughout the deserts of Patagonia,
as far south as the damp and cold latitudes (53 to 54 degrees) of
Tierra del Fuego. I have seen its footsteps in the Cordillera of
central Chile, at an elevation of at least 10,000 feet. In La
Plata the puma preys chiefly on deer, ostriches, bizcacha, and
other small quadrupeds; it there seldom attacks cattle or horses,
and most rarely man. In Chile, however, it destroys many young
horses and cattle, owing probably to the scarcity of other
quadrupeds: I heard, likewise, of two men and a woman who had
been thus killed. It is asserted that the puma always kills its
prey by springing on the shoulders, and then drawing back the
head with one of its paws, until the vertebrae break: I have seen
in Patagonia the skeletons of guanacos, with their necks thus
dislocated.

The puma, after eating its fill, covers the carcass with many
large bushes, and lies down to watch it. This habit is often the
cause of its being discovered; for the condors wheeling in the
air, every now and then descend to partake of the feast, and
being angrily driven away, rise all together on the wing. The
Chileno Guaso then knows there is a lion watching his prey--the
word is given--and men and dogs hurry to the chase. Sir F. Head
says that a Gaucho in the Pampas, upon merely seeing some condors
wheeling in the air, cried "A lion!" I could never myself meet
with any one who pretended to such powers of discrimination. It
is asserted that if a puma has once been betrayed by thus
watching the carcass, and has then been hunted, it never resumes
this habit; but that having gorged itself, it wanders far away.
The puma is easily killed. In an open country it is first
entangled with the bolas, then lazoed, and dragged along the
ground till rendered insensible. At Tandeel (south of the Plata),
I was told that within three months one hundred were thus
destroyed. In Chile they are generally driven up bushes or trees,
and are then either shot, or baited to death by dogs. The dogs
employed in this chase belong to a particular breed, called
Leoneros: they are weak, slight animals, like long-legged
terriers, but are born with a particular instinct for this sport.
The puma is described as being very crafty: when pursued, it
often returns on its former track, and then suddenly making a
spring on one side, waits there till the dogs have passed by. It
is a very silent animal, uttering no cry even when wounded, and
only rarely during the breeding season.

Of birds, two species of the genus Pteroptochos (megapodius and
albicollis of Kittlitz) are perhaps the most conspicuous. The
former, called by the Chilenos "el Turco," is as large as a
fieldfare, to which bird it has some alliance; but its legs are
much longer, tail shorter, and beak stronger: its colour is a
reddish brown. The Turco is not uncommon. It lives on the ground,
sheltered among the thickets which are scattered over the dry and
sterile hills. With its tail erect, and stilt-like legs, it may
be seen every now and then popping from one bush to another with
uncommon quickness. It really requires little imagination to
believe that the bird is ashamed of itself, and is aware of its
most ridiculous figure. On first seeing it, one is tempted to
exclaim, "A vilely stuffed specimen has escaped from some museum,
and has come to life again!" It cannot be made to take flight
without the greatest trouble, nor does it run, but only hops. The
various loud cries which it utters when concealed amongst the
bushes are as strange as its appearance. It is said to build its
nest in a deep hole beneath the ground. I dissected several
specimens: the gizzard, which was very muscular, contained
beetles, vegetable fibres, and pebbles. From this character, from
the length of its legs, scratching feet, membranous covering to
the nostrils, short and arched wings, this bird seems in a
certain degree to connect the thrushes with the gallinaceous
order.

The second species (or P. albicollis) is allied to the first in
its general form. It is called Tapacolo, or "cover your
posterior;" and well does the shameless little bird deserve its
name; for it carries its tail more than erect, that is, inclined
backwards towards its head. It is very common, and frequents the
bottoms of hedgerows, and the bushes scattered over the barren
hills, where scarcely another bird can exist. In its general
manner of feeding, of quickly hopping out of the thickets and
back again, in its desire of concealment, unwillingness to take
flight, and nidification, it bears a close resemblance to the
Turco; but its appearance is not quite so ridiculous. The
Tapacolo is very crafty: when frightened by any person, it will
remain motionless at the bottom of a bush, and will then, after a
little while, try with much address to crawl away on the opposite
side. It is also an active bird, and continually making a noise:
these noises are various and strangely odd; some are like the
cooing of doves, others like the bubbling of water, and many defy
all similes. The country people say it changes its cry five times
in the year--according to some change of season, I suppose.
(12/4. It is a remarkable fact that Molina, though describing in
detail all the birds and animals of Chile, never once mentions
this genus, the species of which are so common, and so remarkable
in their habits. Was he at a loss how to classify them, and did
he consequently think that silence was the more prudent course?
It is one more instance of the frequency of omissions by authors
on those very subjects where it might have been least expected.)

Two species of humming-birds are common; Trochilus forficatus is
found over a space of 2500 miles on the west coast, from the hot
dry country of Lima to the forests of Tierra del Fuego--where it
may be seen flitting about in snow-storms. In the wooded island
of Chiloe, which has an extremely humid climate, this little
bird, skipping from side to side amidst the dripping foliage, is
perhaps more abundant than almost any other kind. I opened the
stomachs of several specimens, shot in different parts of the
continent, and in all, remains of insects were as numerous as in
the stomach of a creeper. When this species migrates in the
summer southward, it is replaced by the arrival of another
species coming from the north. This second kind (Trochilus gigas)
is a very large bird for the delicate family to which it belongs:
when on the wing its appearance is singular. Like others of the
genus, it moves from place to place with a rapidity which may be
compared to that of Syrphus amongst flies, and Sphinx among
moths; but whilst hovering over a flower, it flaps its wings with
a very slow and powerful movement, totally different from that
vibratory one common to most of the species, which produces the
humming noise. I never saw any other bird where the force of its
wings appeared (as in a butterfly) so powerful in proportion to
the weight of its body. When hovering by a flower, its tail is
constantly expanded and shut like a fan, the body being kept in a
nearly vertical position. This action appears to steady and
support the bird, between the slow movements of its wings.
Although flying from flower to flower in search of food, its
stomach generally contained abundant remains of insects, which I
suspect are much more the object of its search than honey. The
note of this species, like that of nearly the whole family, is
extremely shrill.

(PLATE 65.  CHILIAN SPURS, STIRRUP, ETC.)


CHAPTER XIII.

(PLATE 66.  OLD CHURCH, CASTRO, CHILOE.)

Chiloe.
General Aspect.
Boat excursion.
Native Indians.
Castro.
Tame fox.
Ascend San Pedro.
Chonos Archipelago.
Peninsula of Tres Montes.
Granitic range.
Boat-wrecked sailors.
Low's Harbour.
Wild potato.
Formation of peat.
Myopotamus, otter and mice.
Cheucau and Barking-bird.
Opetiorhynchus.
Singular character of ornithology.
Petrels.

CHILOE AND CHONOS ISLANDS.

NOVEMBER 10, 1834.

The "Beagle" sailed from Valparaiso to the south, for the purpose
of surveying the southern part of Chile, the island of Chiloe,
and the broken land called the Chonos Archipelago, as far south
as the Peninsula of Tres Montes. On the 21st we anchored in the
bay of S. Carlos, the capital of Chiloe.

This island is about ninety miles long, with a breadth of rather
less than thirty. The land is hilly, but not mountainous, and is
covered by one great forest, except where a few green patches
have been cleared round the thatched cottages. From a distance
the view somewhat resembles that of Tierra del Fuego; but the
woods, when seen nearer, are incomparably more beautiful. Many
kinds of fine evergreen trees, and plants with a tropical
character, here take the place of the gloomy beech of the
southern shores. In winter the climate is detestable, and in
summer it is only a little better. I should think there are few
parts of the world, within the temperate regions, where so much
rain falls. The winds are very boisterous, and the sky almost
always clouded: to have a week of fine weather is something
wonderful. It is even difficult to get a single glimpse of the
Cordillera: during our first visit, once only the volcano of
Osorno stood out in bold relief, and that was before sunrise; it
was curious to watch, as the sun rose, the outline gradually
fading away in the glare of the eastern sky.

The inhabitants, from their complexion and low stature, appear to
have three-fourths of Indian blood in their veins. They are an
humble, quiet, industrious set of men. Although the fertile soil,
resulting from the decomposition of the volcanic rocks, supports
a rank vegetation, yet the climate is not favourable to any
production which requires much sunshine to ripen it. There is
very little pasture for the larger quadrupeds; and in
consequence, the staple articles of food are pigs, potatoes, and
fish. The people all dress in strong woollen garments, which each
family makes for itself, and dyes with indigo of a dark blue
colour. The arts, however, are in the rudest state;--as may be
seen in their strange fashion of ploughing, their method of
spinning, grinding corn, and in the construction of their boats.
The forests are so impenetrable that the land is nowhere
cultivated except near the coast and on the adjoining islets.
Even where paths exist, they are scarcely passable from the soft
and swampy state of the soil. The inhabitants, like those of
Tierra del Fuego, move about chiefly on the beach or in boats.
Although with plenty to eat, the people are very poor: there is
no demand for labour, and consequently the lower orders cannot
scrape together money sufficient to purchase even the smallest
luxuries. There is also a great deficiency of a circulating
medium. I have seen a man bringing on his back a bag of charcoal,
with which to buy some trifle, and another carrying a plank to
exchange for a bottle of wine. Hence every tradesman must also be
a merchant, and again sell the goods which he takes in exchange.

NOVEMBER 24, 1834.

The yawl and whale-boat were sent under the command of Mr. (now
Captain) Sulivan to survey the eastern or inland coast of Chiloe;
and with orders to meet the "Beagle" at the southern extremity of
the island; to which point she would proceed by the outside, so
as thus to circumnavigate the whole. I accompanied this
expedition, but instead of going in the boats the first day, I
hired horses to take me to Chacao, at the northern extremity of
the island. The road followed the coast; every now and then
crossing promontories covered by fine forests. In these shaded
paths it is absolutely necessary that the whole road should be
made of logs of wood, which are squared and placed by the side of
each other. From the rays of the sun never penetrating the
evergreen foliage, the ground is so damp and soft, that except by
this means neither man nor horse would be able to pass along. I
arrived at the village of Chacao shortly after the tents
belonging to the boats were pitched for the night.

The land in this neighbourhood has been extensively cleared, and
there were many quiet and most picturesque nooks in the forest.
Chacao was formerly the principal port in the island; but many
vessels having been lost, owing to the dangerous currents and
rocks in the straits, the Spanish government burnt the church,
and thus arbitrarily compelled the greater number of inhabitants
to migrate to S. Carlos. We had not long bivouacked, before the
barefooted son of the governor came down to reconnoitre us.
Seeing the English flag hoisted at the yawl's masthead, he asked
with the utmost indifference, whether it was always to fly at
Chacao. In several places the inhabitants were much astonished at
the appearance of men-of-war's boats, and hoped and believed it
was the forerunner of a Spanish fleet, coming to recover the
island from the patriot government of Chile. All the men in
power, however, had been informed of our intended visit, and were
exceedingly civil. While we were eating our supper, the governor
paid us a visit. He had been a lieutenant-colonel in the Spanish
service, but now was miserably poor. He gave us two sheep, and
accepted in return two cotton handkerchiefs, some brass trinkets,
and a little tobacco.

NOVEMBER 25, 1834.

Torrents of rain: we managed, however, to run down the coast as
far as Huapi-lenou. The whole of this eastern side of Chiloe has
one aspect; it is a plain, broken by valleys and divided into
little islands, and the whole thickly covered with one impervious
blackish-green forest. On the margins there are some cleared
spaces, surrounding the high-roofed cottages.

NOVEMBER 26, 1834.

The day rose splendidly clear. The volcano of Orsono was spouting
out volumes of smoke. This most beautiful mountain, formed like a
perfect cone, and white with snow, stands out in front of the
Cordillera. Another great volcano, with a saddle-shaped summit,
also emitted from its immense crater little jets of steam.
Subsequently we saw the lofty-peaked Corcovado--well deserving
the name of "el famoso Corcovado." Thus we beheld, from one point
of view, three great active volcanoes, each about seven thousand
feet high. In addition to this, far to the south there were other
lofty cones covered with snow, which, although not known to be
active, must be in their origin volcanic. The line of the Andes
is not, in this neighbourhood, nearly so elevated as in Chile;
neither does it appear to form so perfect a barrier between the
regions of the earth. This great range, although running in a
straight north and south line, owing to an optical deception
always appeared more or less curved; for the lines drawn from
each peak to the beholder's eye necessarily converged like the
radii of a semicircle, and as it was not possible (owing to the
clearness of the atmosphere and the absence of all intermediate
objects) to judge how far distant the farthest peaks were off,
they appeared to stand in a flattish semicircle.

Landing at midday, we saw a family of pure Indian extraction. The
father was singularly like York Minster; and some of the younger
boys, with their ruddy complexions, might have been mistaken for
Pampas Indians. Everything I have seen convinces me of the close
connexion of the different American tribes, who nevertheless
speak distinct languages. This party could muster but little
Spanish, and talked to each other in their own tongue. It is a
pleasant thing to see the aborigines advanced to the same degree
of civilisation, however low that may be, which their white
conquerors have attained. More to the south we saw many pure
Indians: indeed, all the inhabitants of some of the islets retain
their Indian surnames. In the census of 1832 there were in Chiloe
and its dependencies forty-two thousand souls: the greater number
of these appear to be of mixed blood. Eleven thousand retain
their Indian surnames, but it is probable that not nearly all of
these are of a pure breed. Their manner of life is the same with
that of the other poor inhabitants, and they are all Christians;
but it is said that they yet retain some strange superstitious
ceremonies, and that they pretend to hold communication with the
devil in certain caves. Formerly, every one convicted of this
offence was sent to the Inquisition at Lima. Many of the
inhabitants who are not included in the eleven thousand with
Indian surnames, cannot be distinguished by their appearance from
Indians. Gomez, the governor of Lemuy, is descended from noblemen
of Spain on both sides; but by constant intermarriages with the
natives the present man is an Indian. On the other hand, the
governor of Quinchao boasts much of his purely kept Spanish
blood.

We reached at night a beautiful little cove, north of the island
of Caucahue. The people here complained of want of land. This is
partly owing to their own negligence in not clearing the woods,
and partly to restrictions by the government, which makes it
necessary, before buying ever so small a piece, to pay two
shillings to the surveyor for measuring each quadra (150 yards
square), together with whatever price he fixes for the value of
the land. After his valuation the land must be put up three times
to auction, and if no one bids more, the purchaser can have it at
that rate. All these exactions must be a serious check to
clearing the ground, where the inhabitants are so extremely poor.
In most countries, forests are removed without much difficulty by
the aid of fire; but in Chiloe, from the damp nature of the
climate, and the sort of trees, it is necessary first to cut them
down. This is a heavy drawback to the prosperity of Chiloe. In
the time of the Spaniards the Indians could not hold land; and a
family, after having cleared a piece of ground, might be driven
away, and the property seized by the government. The Chilian
authorities are now performing an act of justice by making
retribution to these poor Indians, giving to each man, according
to his grade of life, a certain portion of land. The value of
uncleared ground is very little. The government gave Mr. Douglas
(the present surveyor, who informed me of these circumstances)
eight and a half square miles of forest near S. Carlos, in lieu
of a debt; and this he sold for 350 dollars, or about 70 pounds
sterling.

The two succeeding days were fine, and at night we reached the
island of Quinchao. This neighbourhood is the most cultivated
part of the Archipelago; for a broad strip of land on the coast
of the main island, as well as on many of the smaller adjoining
ones, is almost completely cleared. Some of the farmhouses seemed
very comfortable. I was curious to ascertain how rich any of
these people might be, but Mr. Douglas says that no one can be
considered as possessing a regular income. One of the richest
landowners might possibly accumulate, in a long industrious life,
as much as 1000 pounds sterling; but should this happen, it would
all be stowed away in some secret corner, for it is the custom of
almost every family to have a jar or treasure-chest buried in the
ground.

NOVEMBER 30, 1834.

Early on Sunday morning we reached Castro, the ancient capital of
Chiloe, but now a most forlorn and deserted place. The usual
quadrangular arrangement of Spanish towns could be traced, but
the streets and plaza were coated with fine green turf, on which
sheep were browsing. The church, which stands in the middle, is
entirely built of plank, and has a picturesque and venerable
appearance. The poverty of the place may be conceived from the
fact, that although containing some hundreds of inhabitants, one
of our party was unable anywhere to purchase either a pound of
sugar or an ordinary knife. No individual possessed either a
watch or a clock; and an old man who was supposed to have a good
idea of time, was employed to strike the church bell by guess.
The arrival of our boats was a rare event in this quiet retired
corner of the world; and nearly all the inhabitants came down to
the beach to see us pitch our tents. They were very civil, and
offered us a house; and one man even sent us a cask of cider as a
present. In the afternoon we paid our respects to the governor--a
quiet old man, who, in his appearance and manner of life, was
scarcely superior to an English cottager. At night heavy rain set
in, which was hardly sufficient to drive away from our tents the
large circle of lookers on. An Indian family, who had come to
trade in a canoe from Caylen, bivouacked near us. They had no
shelter during the rain. In the morning I asked a young Indian,
who was wet to the skin, how he had passed the night. He seemed
perfectly content, and answered, "Muy bien, seor."

DECEMBER 1, 1834.

We steered for the island of Lemuy. I was anxious to examine a
reported coal-mine which turned out to be lignite of little
value, in the sandstone (probably of an ancient tertiary epoch)
of which these islands are composed. When we reached Lemuy we had
much difficulty in finding any place to pitch our tents, for it
was spring-tide, and the land was wooded down to the water's
edge. In a short time we were surrounded by a large group of the
nearly pure Indian inhabitants. They were much surprised at our
arrival, and said one to the other, "This is the reason we have
seen so many parrots lately; the cheucau (an odd red-breasted
little bird, which inhabits the thick forest, and utters very
peculiar noises) has not cried 'beware' for nothing." They were
soon anxious for barter. Money was scarcely worth anything, but
their eagerness for tobacco was something quite extraordinary.
After tobacco, indigo came next in value; then capsicum, old
clothes, and gunpowder. The latter article was required for a
very innocent purpose: each parish has a public musket, and the
gunpowder was wanted for making a noise on their saint or feast
days.

The people here live chiefly on shell-fish and potatoes. At
certain seasons they catch also, in "corrales," or hedges under
water, many fish which are left on the mud-banks as the tide
falls. They occasionally possess fowls, sheep, goats, pigs,
horses, and cattle; the order in which they are here mentioned,
expressing their respective numbers. I never saw anything more
obliging and humble than the manners of these people. They
generally began with stating that they were poor natives of the
place, and not Spaniards and that they were in sad want of
tobacco and other comforts. At Caylen, the most southern island,
the sailors bought with a stick of tobacco, of the value of
three-halfpence, two fowls, one of which, the Indian stated, had
skin between its toes, and turned out to be a fine duck; and with
some cotton handkerchiefs, worth three shillings, three sheep and
a large bunch of onions were procured. The yawl at this place was
anchored some way from the shore, and we had fears for her safety
from robbers during the night. Our pilot, Mr. Douglas,
accordingly told the constable of the district that we always
placed sentinels with loaded arms, and not understanding Spanish,
if we saw any person in the dark, we should assuredly shoot him.
The constable, with much humility, agreed to the perfect
propriety of this arrangement, and promised us that no one should
stir out of his house during that night.

During the four succeeding days we continued sailing southward.
The general features of the country remained the same, but it was
much less thickly inhabited. On the large island of Tanqui there
was scarcely one cleared spot, the trees on every side extending
their branches over the sea-beach. I one day noticed, growing on
the sandstone cliffs, some very fine plants of the panke (Gunnera
scabra), which somewhat resembles the rhubarb on a gigantic
scale. The inhabitants eat the stalks, which are subacid, and tan
leather with the roots, and prepare a black dye from them. The
leaf is nearly circular, but deeply indented on its margin. I
measured one which was nearly eight feet in diameter, and
therefore no less than twenty-four in circumference! The stalk is
rather more than a yard high, and each plant sends out four or
five of these enormous leaves, presenting together a very noble
appearance.

DECEMBER 6, 1834.

We reached Caylen, called "el fin del Cristiandad." In the
morning we stopped for a few minutes at a house on the northern
end of Laylec, which was the extreme point of South American
Christendom, and a miserable hovel it was. The latitude is 43
degrees 10', which is two degrees farther south than the Rio
Negro on the Atlantic coast. These extreme Christians were very
poor, and, under the plea of their situation, begged for some
tobacco. As a proof of the poverty of these Indians, I may
mention that shortly before this we had met a man, who had
travelled three days and a half on foot, and had as many to
return, for the sake of recovering the value of a small axe and a
few fish. How very difficult it must be to buy the smallest
article, when such trouble is taken to recover so small a debt.

In the evening we reached the island of San Pedro, where we found
the "Beagle" at anchor. In doubling the point, two of the
officers landed to take a round of angles with the theodolite. A
fox (Canis fulvipes), of a kind said to be peculiar to the
island, and very rare in it, and which is a new species, was
sitting on the rocks. He was so intently absorbed in watching the
work of the officers, that I was able, by quietly walking up
behind, to knock him on the head with my geological hammer. This
fox, more curious or more scientific, but less wise, than the
generality of his brethren, is now mounted in the museum of the
Zoological Society.

We stayed three days in this harbour, on one of which Captain
Fitz Roy, with a party, attempted to ascend to the summit of San
Pedro. The woods here had rather a different appearance from
those on the northern part of the island. The rock, also, being
micaceous slate, there was no beach, but the steep sides dipped
directly beneath the water. The general aspect in consequence was
more like that of Tierra del Fuego than of Chiloe. In vain we
tried to gain the summit: the forest was so impenetrable, that no
one who has not beheld it can imagine so entangled a mass of
dying and dead trunks. I am sure that often, for more than ten
minutes together, our feet never touched the ground, and we were
frequently ten or fifteen feet above it, so that the seamen as a
joke called out the soundings. At other times we crept one after
another, on our hands and knees, under the rotten trunks. In the
lower part of the mountain, noble trees of the Winter's Bark, and
a laurel like the sassafras with fragrant leaves, and others, the
names of which I do not know, were matted together by a trailing
bamboo or cane. Here we were more like fishes struggling in a net
than any other animal. On the higher parts, brushwood takes the
place of larger trees, with here and there a red cedar or an
alerce pine. I was also pleased to see, at an elevation of a
little less than 1000 feet, our old friend the southern beech.
They were, however, poor stunted trees, and I should think that
this must be nearly their northern limit. We ultimately gave up
the attempt in despair.

DECEMBER 10, 1834.

(PLATE 67.  INSIDE CHONOS ARCHIPELAGO.)

The yawl and whale-boat, with Mr. Sulivan, proceeded on their
survey, but I remained on board the "Beagle," which the next day
left San Pedro for the southward. On the 13th we ran into an
opening in the southern part of Guayatecas, or the Chonos
Archipelago; and it was fortunate we did so, for on the following
day a storm, worthy of Tierra del Fuego, raged with great fury.
White massive clouds were piled up against a dark blue sky, and
across them black ragged sheets of vapour were rapidly driven.
The successive mountain ranges appeared like dim shadows, and the
setting sun cast on the woodland a yellow gleam, much like that
produced by the flame of spirits of wine. The water was white
with the flying spray, and the wind lulled and roared again
through the rigging: it was an ominous, sublime scene. During a
few minutes there was a bright rainbow, and it was curious to
observe the effect of the spray, which, being carried along the
surface of the water, changed the ordinary semicircle into a
circle--a band of prismatic colours being continued, from both
feet of the common arch across the bay, close to the vessel's
side: thus forming a distorted, but very nearly entire ring.

We stayed here three days. The weather continued bad: but this
did not much signify, for the surface of the land in all these
islands is all but impassable. The coast is so very rugged that
to attempt to walk in that direction requires continued
scrambling up and down over the sharp rocks of mica-slate; and as
for the woods, our faces, hands, and shin-bones all bore witness
to the maltreatment we received, in merely attempting to
penetrate their forbidden recesses.

DECEMBER 18, 1834.

We stood out to sea. On the 20th we bade farewell to the south,
and with a fair wind turned the ship's head northward. From Cape
Tres Montes we sailed pleasantly along the lofty weather-beaten
coast, which is remarkable for the bold outline of its hills, and
the thick covering of forest even on the almost precipitous
flanks. The next day a harbour was discovered, which on this
dangerous coast might be of great service to a distressed vessel.
It can easily be recognised by a hill 1600 feet high, which is
even more perfectly conical than the famous sugar-loaf at Rio de
Janeiro. The next day, after anchoring, I succeeded in reaching
the summit of this hill. It was a laborious undertaking, for the
sides were so steep that in some parts it was necessary to use
the trees as ladders. There were also several extensive brakes of
the Fuchsia, covered with its beautiful drooping flowers, but
very difficult to crawl through. In these wild countries it gives
much delight to gain the summit of any mountain. There is an
indefinite expectation of seeing something very strange, which,
however often it may be balked, never failed with me to recur on
each successive attempt. Every one must know the feeling of
triumph and pride which a grand view from a height communicates
to the mind. In these little frequented countries there is also
joined to it some vanity, that you perhaps are the first man who
ever stood on this pinnacle or admired this view.

A strong desire is always felt to ascertain whether any human
being has previously visited an unfrequented spot. A bit of wood
with a nail in it is picked up and studied as if it were covered
with hieroglyphics. Possessed with this feeling, I was much
interested by finding, on a wild part of the coast, a bed made of
grass beneath a ledge of rock. Close by it there had been a fire,
and the man had used an axe. The fire, bed, and situation showed
the dexterity of an Indian; but he could scarcely have been an
Indian, for the race is in this part extinct, owing to the
Catholic desire of making at one blow Christians and Slaves. I
had at the time some misgivings that the solitary man who had
made his bed on this wild spot, must have been some poor
shipwrecked sailor, who, in trying to travel up the coast, had
here laid himself down for his dreary night.

DECEMBER 28, 1834.

The weather continued very bad, but it at last permitted us to
proceed with the survey. The time hung heavy on our hands, as it
always did when we were delayed from day to day by successive
gales of wind. In the evening another harbour was discovered,
where we anchored. Directly afterwards a man was seen waving his
shirt, and a boat was sent which brought back two seamen. A party
of six had run away from an American whaling vessel, and had
landed a little to the southward in a boat, which was shortly
afterwards knocked to pieces by the surf. They had now been
wandering up and down the coast for fifteen months, without
knowing which way to go, or where they were. What a singular
piece of good fortune it was that this harbour was now
discovered! Had it not been for this one chance, they might have
wandered till they had grown old men, and at last have perished
on this wild coast. Their sufferings had been very great, and one
of their party had lost his life by falling from the cliffs. They
were sometimes obliged to separate in search of food, and this
explained the bed of the solitary man. Considering what they had
undergone, I think they had kept a very good reckoning of time,
for they had lost only four days.

DECEMBER 30, 1834.

We anchored in a snug little cove at the foot of some high hills,
near the northern extremity of Tres Montes. After breakfast the
next morning a party ascended one of these mountains, which was
2400 feet high. The scenery was remarkable. The chief part of the
range was composed of grand, solid, abrupt masses of granite,
which appeared as if they had been coeval with the beginning of
the world. The granite was capped with mica-slate, and this in
the lapse of ages had been worn into strange finger-shaped
points. These two formations, thus differing in their outlines,
agree in being almost destitute of vegetation. This barrenness
had to our eyes a strange appearance, from having been so long
accustomed to the sight of an almost universal forest of
dark-green trees. I took much delight in examining the structure
of these mountains. The complicated and lofty ranges bore a noble
aspect of durability--equally profitless, however, to man and to
all other animals. Granite to the geologist is classic ground:
from its widespread limits, and its beautiful and compact
texture, few rocks have been more anciently recognised. Granite
has given rise, perhaps, to more discussion concerning its origin
than any other formation. We generally see it constituting the
fundamental rock, and, however formed, we know it is the deepest
layer in the crust of this globe to which man has penetrated. The
limit of man's knowledge in any subject possesses a high
interest, which is perhaps increased by its close neighbourhood
to the realms of imagination.

JANUARY 1, 1835.

The new year is ushered in with the ceremonies proper to it in
these regions. She lays out no false hopes: a heavy north-western
gale, with steady rain, bespeaks the rising year. Thank God, we
are not destined here to see the end of it, but hope then to be
in the Pacific Ocean, where a blue sky tells one there is a
heaven,--a something beyond the clouds above our heads.

The north-west winds prevailing for the next four days, we only
managed to cross a great bay, and then anchored in another secure
harbour. I accompanied the Captain in a boat to the head of a
deep creek. On the way the number of seals which we saw was quite
astonishing: every bit of flat rock and parts of the beach were
covered with them. They appeared to be of a loving disposition,
and lay huddled together, fast asleep, like so many pigs; but
even pigs would have been ashamed of their dirt, and of the foul
smell which came from them. Each herd was watched by the patient
but inauspicious eyes of the turkey-buzzard. This disgusting
bird, with its bald scarlet head, formed to wallow in putridity,
is very common on the west coast, and their attendance on the
seals shows on what they rely for their food. We found the water
(probably only that of the surface) nearly fresh: this was caused
by the number of torrents which, in the form of cascades, came
tumbling over the bold granite mountains into the sea. The fresh
water attracts the fish, and these bring many terns, gulls, and
two kinds of cormorant. We saw also a pair of the beautiful
black-necked swans, and several small sea-otters, the fur of
which is held in such high estimation. In returning, we were
again amused by the impetuous manner in which the heap of seals,
old and young, tumbled into the water as the boat passed. They
did not remain long under water, but rising, followed us with
outstretched necks, expressing great wonder and curiosity.

JANUARY 7, 1835.

Having run up the coast, we anchored near the northern end of the
Chonos Archipelago, in Low's Harbour, where we remained a week.
The islands were here, as in Chiloe, composed of a stratified,
soft, littoral deposit; and the vegetation in consequence was
beautifully luxuriant. The woods came down to the sea-beach, just
in the manner of an evergreen shrubbery over a gravel walk. We
also enjoyed from the anchorage a splendid view of four great
snowy cones of the Cordillera, including "el famoso Corcovado;"
the range itself had in this latitude so little height, that few
parts of it appeared above the tops of the neighbouring islets.
We found here a party of five men from Caylen, "el fin del
Cristiandad," who had most adventurously crossed in their
miserable boat-canoe, for the purpose of fishing, the open space
of sea which separates Chonos from Chiloe. These islands will, in
all probability, in a short time become peopled like those
adjoining the coast of Chiloe.

The wild potato grows on these islands in great abundance, on the
sandy, shelly soil near the sea-beach. The tallest plant was four
feet in height. The tubers were generally small, but I found one,
of an oval shape, two inches in diameter: they resembled in every
respect, and had the same smell as English potatoes; but when
boiled they shrunk much, and were watery and insipid, without any
bitter taste. They are undoubtedly here indigenous: they grow as
far south, according to Mr. Low, as latitude 50 degrees, and are
called Aquinas by the wild Indians of that part: the Chilotan
Indians have a different name for them. Professor Henslow, who
has examined the dried specimens which I brought home, says that
they are the same with those described by Mr. Sabine from
Valparaiso, but that they form a variety which by some botanists
has been considered as specifically distinct. (13/1.
"Horticultural Transactions" volume 5 page 249. Mr. Caldeleugh
sent home two tubers, which, being well manured, even the first
season produced numerous potatoes and an abundance of leaves. See
Humboldt's interesting discussion on this plant, which it appears
was unknown in Mexico,--in "Political Essay on New Spain" book 4
chapter 9.) It is remarkable that the same plant should be found
on the sterile mountains of central Chile, where a drop of rain
does not fall for more than six months, and within the damp
forests of these southern islands.

In the central parts of the Chonos Archipelago (latitude 45
degrees), the forest has very much the same character with that
along the whole west coast, for 600 miles southward to Cape Horn.
The arborescent grass of Chiloe is not found here; while the
beech of Tierra del Fuego grows to a good size, and forms a
considerable proportion of the wood; not, however, in the same
exclusive manner as it does farther southward. Cryptogamic plants
here find a most congenial climate. In the Strait of Magellan, as
I have before remarked, the country appears too cold and wet to
allow of their arriving at perfection; but in these islands,
within the forest, the number of species and great abundance of
mosses, lichens, and small ferns, is quite extraordinary. (13/2.
By sweeping with my insect-net, I procured from these situations
a considerable number of minute insects, of the family of
Staphylinidae, and others allied to Pselaphus, and minute
Hymenoptera. But the most characteristic family in number, both
of individuals and species, throughout the more open parts of
Chiloe and Chonos is that of Telephoridae.) In Tierra del Fuego
trees grow only on the hillsides; every level piece of land being
invariably covered by a thick bed of peat; but in Chiloe flat
land supports the most luxuriant forests. Here, within the Chonos
Archipelago, the nature of the climate more closely approaches
that of Tierra del Fuego than that of northern Chiloe; for every
patch of level ground is covered by two species of plants
(Astelia pumila and Donatia magellanica), which by their joint
decay compose a thick bed of elastic peat.

In Tierra del Fuego, above the region of woodland, the former of
these eminently sociable plants is the chief agent in the
production of peat. Fresh leaves are always succeeding one to the
other round the central tap-root, the lower ones soon decay, and
in tracing a root downwards in the peat, the leaves, yet holding
their place, can be observed passing through every stage of
decomposition, till the whole becomes blended in one confused
mass. The Astelia is assisted by a few other plants,--here and
there a small creeping Myrtus (M. nummularia), with a woody stem
like our cranberry and with a sweet berry,--an Empetrum (E.
rubrum), like our heath,--a rush (Juncus grandiflorus), are
nearly the only ones that grow on the swampy surface. These
plants, though possessing a very close general resemblance to the
English species of the same genera, are different. In the more
level parts of the country, the surface of the peat is broken up
into little pools of water, which stand at different heights, and
appear as if artificially excavated. Small streams of water,
flowing underground, complete the disorganisation of the
vegetable matter, and consolidate the whole.

The climate of the southern part of America appears particularly
favourable to the production of peat. In the Falkland Islands
almost every kind of plant, even the coarse grass which covers
the whole surface of the land, becomes converted into this
substance: scarcely any situation checks its growth; some of the
beds are as much as twelve feet thick, and the lower part becomes
so solid when dry, that it will hardly burn. Although every plant
lends its aid, yet in most parts the Astelia is the most
efficient. It is rather a singular circumstance, as being so very
different from what occurs in Europe, that I nowhere saw moss
forming by its decay any portion of the peat in South America.
With respect to the northern limit at which the climate allows of
that peculiar kind of slow decomposition which is necessary for
its production, I believe that in Chiloe (latitude 41 to 42
degrees), although there is much swampy ground, no
well-characterised peat occurs: but in the Chonos Islands, three
degrees farther southward, we have seen that it is abundant. On
the eastern coast in La Plata (latitude 35 degrees) I was told by
a Spanish resident who had visited Ireland, that he had often
sought for this substance, but had never been able to find any.
He showed me, as the nearest approach to it which he had
discovered, a black peaty soil, so penetrated with roots as to
allow of an extremely slow and imperfect combustion.

The zoology of these broken islets of the Chonos Archipelago is,
as might have been expected, very poor. Of quadrupeds two aquatic
kinds are common. The Myopotamus Coypus (like a beaver, but with
a round tail) is well known from its fine fur, which is an object
of trade throughout the tributaries of La Plata. It here,
however, exclusively frequents salt water; which same
circumstance has been mentioned as sometimes occurring with the
great rodent, the Capybara. A small sea-otter is very numerous;
this animal does not feed exclusively on fish, but, like the
seals, draws a large supply from a small red crab, which swims in
shoals near the surface of the water. Mr. Bynoe saw one in Tierra
del Fuego eating a cuttle-fish; and at Low's Harbour, another was
killed in the act of carrying to its hole a large volute shell.
At one place I caught in a trap a singular little mouse (M.
brachiotis); it appeared common on several of the islets, but the
Chilotans at Low's Harbour said that it was not found in all.
What a succession of chances, or what changes of level must have
been brought into play, thus to spread these small animals
throughout this broken archipelago! (13/3. It is said that some
rapacious birds bring their prey alive to their nests. If so, in
the course of centuries, every now and then, one might escape
from the young birds. Some such agency is necessary, to account
for the distribution of the smaller gnawing animals on islands
not very near each other.)

In all parts of Chiloe and Chonos, two very strange birds occur,
which are allied to, and replace, the Turco and Tapacolo of
central Chile. One is called by the inhabitants "Cheucau"
(Pteroptochos rubecula): it frequents the most gloomy and retired
spots within the damp forests. Sometimes, although its cry may be
heard close at hand, let a person watch ever so attentively he
will not see the cheucau; at other times let him stand motionless
and the red-breasted little bird will approach within a few feet
in the most familiar manner. It then busily hops about the
entangled mass of rotting canes and branches, with its little
tail cocked upwards. The cheucau is held in superstitious fear by
the Chilotans, on account of its strange and varied cries. There
are three very distinct cries: One is called "chiduco," and is an
omen of good; another, "huitreu," which is extremely
unfavourable; and a third, which I have forgotten. These words
are given in imitation of the noises; and the natives are in some
things absolutely governed by them. The Chilotans assuredly have
chosen a most comical little creature for their prophet. An
allied species, but rather larger, is called by the natives
"Guid-guid" (Pteroptochos Tarnii), and by the English the
barking-bird. This latter name is well given; for I defy any one
at first to feel certain that a small dog is not yelping
somewhere in the forest. Just as with the cheucau, a person will
sometimes hear the bark close by, but in vain may endeavour by
watching, and with still less chance by beating the bushes, to
see the bird; yet at other times the guid-guid fearlessly comes
near. Its manner of feeding and its general habits are very
similar to those of the cheucau.

On the coast, a small dusky-coloured bird (Opetiorhynchus
Patagonicus) is very common. (13/4. I may mention, as a proof of
how great a difference there is between the seasons of the wooded
and the open parts of this coast, that on September 20th, in
latitude 34 degrees, these birds had young ones in the nest,
while among the Chonos Islands, three months later in the summer,
they were only laying, the difference in latitude between these
two places being about 700 miles.) It is remarkable from its
quiet habits; it lives entirely on the sea-beach, like a
sandpiper. Besides these birds only few others inhabit this
broken land. In my rough notes I describe the strange noises,
which, although frequently heard within these gloomy forests, yet
scarcely disturb the general silence. The yelping of the
guid-guid, and the sudden whew-whew of the cheucau, sometimes
come from afar off, and sometimes from close at hand; the little
black wren of Tierra del Fuego occasionally adds its cry; the
creeper (Oxyurus) follows the intruder screaming and twittering;
the humming-bird may be seen every now and then darting from side
to side, and emitting, like an insect, its shrill chirp; lastly,
from the top of some lofty tree the indistinct but plaintive note
of the white-tufted tyrant-flycatcher (Myiobius) may be noticed.
From the great preponderance in most countries of certain common
genera of birds, such as the finches, one feels at first
surprised at meeting with the peculiar forms above enumerated, as
the commonest birds in any district. In central Chile two of
them, namely, the Oxyurus and Scytalopus, occur, although most
rarely. When finding, as in this case, animals which seem to play
so insignificant a part in the great scheme of nature, one is apt
to wonder why they were created. But it should always be
recollected, that in some other country perhaps they are
essential members of society, or at some former period may have
been so. If America south of 37 degrees were sunk beneath the
waters of the ocean, these two birds might continue to exist in
central Chile for a long period, but it is very improbable that
their numbers would increase. We should then see a case which
must inevitably have happened with very many animals.

These southern seas are frequented by several species of Petrels:
the largest kind, Procellaria gigantea, or nelly
(quebrantahuesos, or break-bones, of the Spaniards), is a common
bird, both in the inland channels and on the open sea. In its
habits and manner of flight there is a very close resemblance
with the albatross; and as with the albatross, a person may watch
it for hours together without seeing on what it feeds. The
"break-bones" is, however, a rapacious bird, for it was observed
by some of the officers at Port St. Antonio chasing a diver,
which tried to escape by diving and flying, but was continually
struck down, and at last killed by a blow on its head. At Port
St. Julian these great petrels were seen killing and devouring
young gulls. A second species (Puffinus cinereus), which is
common to Europe, Cape Horn, and the coast of Peru, is of a much
smaller size than the P. gigantea, but, like it, of a dirty black
colour. It generally frequents the inland sounds in very large
flocks: I do not think I ever saw so many birds of any other sort
together, as I once saw of these behind the island of Chiloe.
Hundreds of thousands flew in an irregular line for several hours
in one direction. When part of the flock settled on the water the
surface was blackened, and a noise proceeded from them as of
human beings talking in the distance.

There are several other species of petrels, but I will only
mention one other kind, the Pelacanoides Berardi, which offers an
example of those extraordinary cases, of a bird evidently
belonging to one well-marked family, yet both in its habits and
structure allied to a very distinct tribe. This bird never leaves
the quiet inland sounds. When disturbed it dives to a distance,
and on coming to the surface, with the same movement takes
flight. After flying by the rapid movement of its short wings for
a space in a straight line, it drops, as if struck dead, and
dives again. The form of its beak and nostrils, length of foot,
and even the colouring of its plumage, show that this bird is a
petrel: on the other hand, its short wings and consequent little
power of flight, its form of body and shape of tail, the absence
of a hind toe to its foot, its habit of living, and its choice of
situation, make it at first doubtful whether its relationship is
not equally close with the auks. It would undoubtedly be mistaken
for an auk, when seen from a distance, either on the wing, or
when diving and quietly swimming about the retired channels of
Tierra del Fuego.

(PLATE 68.  GUNNERA SCABRA, CHILOE.)


CHAPTER XIV.

(PLATE 69.  ANTUCO VOLCANO, NEAR TALCAHUANO.)

San Carlos, Chiloe.
Osorno in eruption, contemporaneously with Aconcagua and
Coseguina.
Ride to Cucao.
Impenetrable forests.
Valdivia.
Indians.
Earthquake.
Concepcion.
Great earthquake.
Rocks fissured.
Appearance of the former towns.
The sea black and boiling.
Direction of the vibrations.
Stones twisted round.
Great wave.
Permanent elevation of the land.
Area of volcanic phenomena.
The connection between the elevatory and eruptive forces.
Cause of earthquakes.
Slow elevation of mountain-chains.

CHILOE AND CONCEPCION: GREAT EARTHQUAKE.

(PLATE 70.  PANORAMIC VIEW OF COAST, CHILOE. OSORNO AND
QUELLAYPO.)

(PLATE 71.  INSIDE ISLAND OF CHILOE. SAN CARLOS.)

On January the 15th, 1835 we sailed from Low's Harbour, and three
days afterwards anchored a second time in the bay of S. Carlos in
Chiloe. On the night of the 19th the volcano of Osorno was in
action. At midnight the sentry observed something like a large
star, which gradually increased in size till about three o'clock,
when it presented a very magnificent spectacle. By the aid of a
glass, dark objects, in constant succession, were seen, in the
midst of a great glare of red light, to be thrown up and to fall
down. The light was sufficient to cast on the water a long bright
reflection. Large masses of molten matter seem very commonly to
be cast out of the craters in this part of the Cordillera. I was
assured that when the Corcovado is in eruption, great masses are
projected upwards and are seen to burst in the air, assuming many
fantastical forms, such as trees: their size must be immense, for
they can be distinguished from the high land behind S. Carlos,
which is no less than ninety-three miles from the Corcovado. In
the morning the volcano became tranquil.

I was surprised at hearing afterwards that Aconcagua in Chile,
480 miles northwards, was in action on the same night; and still
more surprised to hear that the great eruption of Coseguina (2700
miles north of Aconcagua), accompanied by an earthquake felt over
1000 miles, also occurred within six hours of this same time.
This coincidence is the more remarkable, as Coseguina had been
dormant for twenty-six years: and Aconcagua most rarely shows any
signs of action. It is difficult even to conjecture whether this
coincidence was accidental, or shows some subterranean
connection. If Vesuvius, Etna, and Hecla in Iceland (all three
relatively nearer each other than the corresponding points in
South America), suddenly burst forth in eruption on the same
night, the coincidence would be thought remarkable; but it is far
more remarkable in this case, where the three vents fall on the
same great mountain-chain, and where the vast plains along the
entire eastern coast, and the upraised recent shells along more
than 2000 miles on the western coast, show in how equable and
connected a manner the elevatory forces have acted.

Captain Fitz Roy being anxious that some bearings should be taken
on the outer coast of Chiloe, it was planned that Mr. King and
myself should ride to Castro, and thence across the island to the
Capella de Cucao, situated on the west coast. Having hired horses
and a guide, we set out on the morning of the 22nd. We had not
proceeded far, before we were joined by a woman and two boys, who
were bent on the same journey. Every one on this road acts on a
"hail-fellow-well-met" fashion; and one may here enjoy the
privilege, so rare in South America, of travelling without
firearms. At first the country consisted of a succession of hills
and valleys: nearer to Castro it became very level. The road
itself is a curious affair; it consists in its whole length, with
the exception of very few parts, of great logs of wood, which are
either broad and laid longitudinally, or narrow and placed
transversely. In summer the road is not very bad: but in winter,
when the wood is rendered slippery from rain, travelling is
exceedingly difficult. At that time of the year, the ground on
each side becomes a morass, and is often overflowed: hence it is
necessary that the longitudinal logs should be fastened down by
transverse poles, which are pegged on each side into the earth.
These pegs render a fall from a horse dangerous, as the chance of
alighting on one of them is not small. It is remarkable, however,
how active custom has made the Chilotan horses. In crossing bad
parts, where the logs had been displaced, they skipped from one
to the other, almost with the quickness and certainty of a dog.
On both hands the road is bordered by the lofty forest-trees,
with their bases matted together by canes. When occasionally a
long reach of this avenue could be beheld, it presented a curious
scene of uniformity: the white line of logs, narrowing in
perspective, became hidden by the gloomy forest, or terminated in
a zigzag which ascended some steep hill.

Although the distance from S. Carlos to Castro is only twelve
leagues in a straight line, the formation of the road must have
been a great labour. I was told that several people had formerly
lost their lives in attempting to cross the forest. The first who
succeeded was an Indian, who cut his way through the canes in
eight days, and reached S. Carlos: he was rewarded by the Spanish
government with a grant of land. During the summer, many of the
Indians wander about the forests (but chiefly in the higher
parts, where the woods are not quite so thick), in search of the
half-wild cattle which live on the leaves of the cane and certain
trees. It was one of these huntsmen who by chance discovered, a
few years since, an English vessel, which had been wrecked on the
outer coast. The crew were beginning to fail in provisions, and
it is not probable that, without the aid of this man, they would
ever have extricated themselves from these scarcely penetrable
woods. As it was, one seaman died on the march, from fatigue. The
Indians in these excursions steer by the sun; so that if there is
a continuance of cloudy weather, they cannot travel.

The day was beautiful, and the number of trees which were in full
flower perfumed the air; yet even this could hardly dissipate the
effect of the gloomy dampness of the forest. Moreover, the many
dead trunks that stand like skeletons, never fail to give to
these primeval woods a character of solemnity, absent in those of
countries long civilised. Shortly after sunset we bivouacked for
the night. Our female companion, who was rather good-looking,
belonged to one of the most respectable families in Castro: she
rode, however, astride, and without shoes or stockings. I was
surprised at the total want of pride shown by her and her
brother. They brought food with them, but at all our meals sat
watching Mr. King and myself whilst eating, till we were fairly
shamed into feeding the whole party. The night was cloudless; and
while lying in our beds, we enjoyed the sight (and it is a high
enjoyment) of the multitude of stars which illumined the darkness
of the forest.

JANUARY 23, 1835.

We rose early in the morning, and reached the pretty quiet town
of Castro by two o'clock. The old governor had died since our
last visit, and a Chileno was acting in his place. We had a
letter of introduction to Don Pedro, whom we found exceedingly
hospitable and kind, and more disinterested than is usual on this
side of the continent. The next day Don Pedro procured us fresh
horses, and offered to accompany us himself. We proceeded to the
south--generally following the coast, and passing through several
hamlets, each with its large barn-like chapel built of wood. At
Vilipilli, Don Pedro asked the commandant to give us a guide to
Cucao. The old gentleman offered to come himself; but for a long
time nothing would persuade him that two Englishmen really wished
to go to such an out-of-the-way place as Cucao. We were thus
accompanied by the two greatest aristocrats in the country, as
was plainly to be seen in the manner of all the poorer Indians
towards them. At Chonchi we struck across the island, following
intricate winding paths, sometimes passing through magnificent
forests, and sometimes through pretty cleared spots, abounding
with corn and potato crops. This undulating woody country,
partially cultivated, reminded me of the wilder parts of England,
and therefore had to my eye a most fascinating aspect. At
Vilinco, which is situated on the borders of the lake of Cucao,
only a few fields were cleared; and all the inhabitants appeared
to be Indians. This lake is twelve miles long, and runs in an
east and west direction. From local circumstances, the sea-breeze
blows very regularly during the day, and during the night it
falls calm: this has given rise to strange exaggerations, for the
phenomenon, as described to us at S. Carlos, was quite a prodigy.

The road to Cucao was so very bad that we determined to embark in
a periagua. The commandant, in the most authoritative manner,
ordered six Indians to get ready to pull us over, without
deigning to tell them whether they would be paid. The periagua is
a strange rough boat, but the crew were still stranger: I doubt
if six uglier little men ever got into a boat together. They
pulled, however, very well and cheerfully. The stroke-oarsman
gabbled Indian, and uttered strange cries, much after the fashion
of a pig-driver driving his pigs. We started with a light breeze
against us, but yet reached the Capella de Cucao before it was
late. The country on each side of the lake was one unbroken
forest. In the same periagua with us a cow was embarked. To get
so large an animal into a small boat appears at first a
difficulty, but the Indians managed it in a minute. They brought
the cow alongside the boat, which was heeled towards her; then
placing two oars under her belly, with their ends resting on the
gunwale, by the aid of these levers they fairly tumbled the poor
beast heels over head into the bottom of the boat, and then
lashed her down with ropes. At Cucao we found an uninhabited
hovel (which is the residence of the padre when he pays this
Capella a visit), where, lighting a fire, we cooked our supper,
and were very comfortable.

The district of Cucao is the only inhabited part on the whole
west coast of Chiloe. It contains about thirty or forty Indian
families, who are scattered along four or five miles of the
shore. They are very much secluded from the rest of Chiloe, and
have scarcely any sort of commerce, except sometimes in a little
oil, which they get from seal-blubber. They are tolerably dressed
in clothes of their own manufacture, and they have plenty to eat.
They seemed, however, discontented, yet humble to a degree which
it was quite painful to witness. These feelings are, I think,
chiefly to be attributed to the harsh and authoritative manner in
which they are treated by their rulers. Our companions, although
so very civil to us, behaved to the poor Indians as if they had
been slaves, rather than free men. They ordered provisions and
the use of their horses, without ever condescending to say how
much, or indeed whether the owners should be paid at all. In the
morning, being left alone with these poor people, we soon
ingratiated ourselves by presents of cigars and mat. A lump of
white sugar was divided between all present, and tasted with the
greatest curiosity. The Indians ended all their complaints by
saying, "And it is only because we are poor Indians, and know
nothing; but it was not so when we had a King."

The next day after breakfast we rode a few miles northward to
Punta Huantam. The road lay along a very broad beach, on which,
even after so many fine days, a terrible surf was breaking. I was
assured that after a heavy gale, the roar can be heard at night
even at Castro, a distance of no less than twenty-one sea-miles
across a hilly and wooded country. We had some difficulty in
reaching the point, owing to the intolerably bad paths; for
everywhere in the shade the ground soon becomes a perfect
quagmire. The point itself is a bold rocky hill. It is covered by
a plant allied, I believe, to Bromelia, and called by the
inhabitants Chepones. In scrambling through the beds, our hands
were very much scratched. I was amused by observing the
precaution our Indian guide took, in turning up his trousers,
thinking that they were more delicate than his own hard skin.
This plant bears a fruit, in shape like an artichoke, in which a
number of seed-vessels are packed: these contain a pleasant sweet
pulp, here much esteemed. I saw at Low's Harbour the Chilotans
making chichi, or cider, with this fruit: so true is it, as
Humboldt remarks, that almost everywhere man finds means of
preparing some kind of beverage from the vegetable kingdom. The
savages, however, of Tierra del Fuego, and I believe of
Australia, have not advanced thus far in the arts.

The coast to the north of Punta Huantam is exceedingly rugged
and broken, and is fronted by many breakers, on which the sea is
eternally roaring. Mr. King and myself were anxious to return, if
it had been possible, on foot along this coast; but even the
Indians said it was quite impracticable. We were told that men
have crossed by striking directly through the woods from Cucao to
S. Carlos, but never by the coast. On these expeditions, the
Indians carry with them only roasted corn, and of this they eat
sparingly twice a day.

JANUARY 26, 1835.

Re-embarking in the periagua, we returned across the lake, and
then mounted our horses. The whole of Chiloe took advantage of
this week of unusually fine weather, to clear the ground by
burning. In every direction volumes of smoke were curling
upwards. Although the inhabitants were so assiduous in setting
fire to every part of the wood, yet I did not see a single fire
which they had succeeded in making extensive. We dined with our
friend the commandant, and did not reach Castro till after dark.
The next morning we started very early. After having ridden for
some time, we obtained from the brow of a steep hill an extensive
view (and it is a rare thing on this road) of the great forest.
Over the horizon of trees, the volcano of Corcovado, and the
great flat-topped one to the north, stood out in proud
pre-eminence: scarcely another peak in the long range showed its
snowy summit. I hope it will be long before I forget this
farewell view of the magnificent Cordillera fronting Chiloe. At
night we bivouacked under a cloudless sky, and the next morning
reached S. Carlos. We arrived on the right day, for before
evening heavy rain commenced.

FEBRUARY 4, 1835.

Sailed from Chiloe. During the last week I made several short
excursions. One was to examine a great bed of now-existing
shells, elevated 350 feet above the level of the sea: from among
these shells, large forest-trees were growing. Another ride was
to P. Huechucucuy. I had with me a guide who knew the country far
too well; for he would pertinaciously tell me endless Indian
names for every little point, rivulet, and creek. In the same
manner as in Tierra del Fuego, the Indian language appears
singularly well adapted for attaching names to the most trivial
features of the land. I believe every one was glad to say
farewell to Chiloe; yet if we could forget the gloom and
ceaseless rain of winter, Chiloe might pass for a charming
island. There is also something very attractive in the simplicity
and humble politeness of the poor inhabitants.

We steered northward along shore, but owing to thick weather did
not reach Valdivia till the night of the 8th. The next morning
the boat proceeded to the town, which is distant about ten miles.
We followed the course of the river, occasionally passing a few
hovels, and patches of ground cleared out of the otherwise
unbroken forest; and sometimes meeting a canoe with an Indian
family. The town is situated on the low banks of the stream, and
is so completely buried in a wood of apple-trees that the streets
are merely paths in an orchard. I have never seen any country
where apple-trees appeared to thrive so well as in this damp part
of South America: on the borders of the roads there were many
young trees evidently self-sown. In Chiloe the inhabitants
possess a marvellously short method of making an orchard. At the
lower part of almost every branch, small, conical, brown,
wrinkled points project: these are always ready to change into
roots, as may sometimes be seen, where any mud has been
accidentally splashed against the tree. A branch as thick as a
man's thigh is chosen in the early spring, and is cut off just
beneath a group of these points, all the smaller branches are
lopped off, and it is then placed about two feet deep in the
ground. During the ensuing summer the stump throws out long
shoots, and sometimes even bears fruit: I was shown one which had
produced as many as twenty-three apples, but this was thought
very unusual. In the third season the stump is changed (as I have
myself seen) into a well-wooded tree, loaded with fruit. An old
man near Valdivia illustrated his motto, "Necesidad es la madre
del invencion," by giving an account of the several useful things
he manufactured from his apples. After making cider, and likewise
wine, he extracted from the refuse a white and finely flavoured
spirit; by another process he procured a sweet treacle, or, as he
called it, honey. His children and pigs seemed almost to live,
during this season of the year, in his orchard.

FEBRUARY 11, 1835.

I set out with a guide on a short ride, in which, however, I
managed to see singularly little, either of the geology of the
country or of its inhabitants. There is not much cleared land
near Valdivia: after crossing a river at the distance of a few
miles, we entered the forest, and then passed only one miserable
hovel, before reaching our sleeping-place for the night. The
short difference in latitude, of 150 miles, has given a new
aspect to the forest compared with that of Chiloe. This is owing
to a slightly different proportion in the kinds of trees. The
evergreens do not appear to be quite so numerous, and the forest
in consequence has a brighter tint. As in Chiloe, the lower parts
are matted together by canes: here also another kind (resembling
the bamboo of Brazil and about twenty feet in height) grows in
clusters, and ornaments the banks of some of the streams in a
very pretty manner. It is with this plant that the Indians make
their chuzos, or long tapering spears. Our resting-house was so
dirty that I preferred sleeping outside: on these journeys the
first night is generally very uncomfortable, because one is not
accustomed to the tickling and biting of the fleas. I am sure, in
the morning, there was not a space on my legs of the size of a
shilling which had not its little red mark where the flea had
feasted.

FEBRUARY 12, 1835.

We continued to ride through the uncleared forest; only
occasionally meeting an Indian on horseback, or a troop of fine
mules bringing alerce-planks and corn from the southern plains.
In the afternoon one of the horses knocked up; we were then on a
brow of a hill, which commanded a fine view of the Llanos. The
view of these open plains was very refreshing, after being hemmed
in and buried in the wilderness of trees. The uniformity of a
forest soon becomes very wearisome. This west coast makes me
remember with pleasure the free, unbounded plains of Patagonia;
yet, with the true spirit of contradiction, I cannot forget how
sublime is the silence of the forest. The Llanos are the most
fertile and thickly peopled parts of the country, as they possess
the immense advantage of being nearly free from trees. Before
leaving the forest we crossed some flat little lawns, around
which single trees stood, as in an English park: I have often
noticed with surprise, in wooded undulatory districts, that the
quite level parts have been destitute of trees. On account of the
tired horse, I determined to stop at the Mission of Cudico, to
the friar of which I had a letter of introduction. Cudico is an
intermediate district between the forest and the Llanos. There
are a good many cottages, with patches of corn and potatoes,
nearly all belonging to Indians. The tribes dependent on Valdivia
are "reducidos y cristianos." The Indians farther northward,
about Arauco and Imperial, are still very wild, and not
converted; but they have all much intercourse with the Spaniards.
The padre said that the Christian Indians did not much like
coming to mass, but that otherwise they showed respect for
religion. The greatest difficulty is in making them observe the
ceremonies of marriage. The wild Indians take as many wives as
they can support, and a cacique will sometimes have more than
ten: on entering his house, the number may be told by that of the
separate fires. Each wife lives a week in turn with the cacique;
but all are employed in weaving ponchos, etc., for his profit. To
be the wife of a cacique is an honour much sought after by the
Indian women.

The men of all these tribes wear a coarse woolen poncho: those
south of Valdivia wear short trousers, and those north of it a
petticoat, like the chilipa of the Gauchos. All have their long
hair bound by a scarlet fillet, but with no other covering on
their heads. These Indians are good-sized men; their cheek-bones
are prominent, and in general appearance they resemble the great
American family to which they belong; but their physiognomy
seemed to me to be slightly different from that of any other
tribe which I had before seen. Their expression is generally
grave, and even austere, and possesses much character: this may
pass either for honest bluntness or fierce determination. The
long black hair, the grave and much-lined features, and the dark
complexion, called to my mind old portraits of James I. On the
road we met with none of that humble politeness so universal in
Chiloe. Some gave their "mari-mari" (good morning) with
promptness, but the greater number did not seem inclined to offer
any salute. This independence of manners is probably a
consequence of their long wars, and the repeated victories which
they alone, of all the tribes in America, have gained over the
Spaniards.

I spent the evening very pleasantly, talking with the padre. He
was exceedingly kind and hospitable; and coming from Santiago,
had contrived to surround himself with some few comforts. Being a
man of some little education, he bitterly complained of the total
want of society. With no particular zeal for religion, no
business or pursuit, how completely must this man's life be
wasted! The next day, on our return, we met seven very
wild-looking Indians, of whom some were caciques that had just
received from the Chilian government their yearly small stipend
for having long remained faithful. They were fine-looking men,
and they rode one after the other, with most gloomy faces. An old
cacique, who headed them, had been, I suppose, more excessively
drunk than the rest, for he seemed both extremely grave and very
crabbed. Shortly before this, two Indians joined us, who were
travelling from a distant mission to Valdivia concerning some
lawsuit. One was a good-humoured old man, but from his wrinkled
beardless face looked more like an old woman than a man. I
frequently presented both of them with cigars; and though ready
to receive them, and I daresay grateful, they would hardly
condescend to thank me. A Chilotan Indian would have taken off
his hat, and given his "Dios le page!" The travelling was very
tedious, both from the badness of the roads and from the number
of great fallen trees, which it was necessary either to leap over
or to avoid by making long circuits. We slept on the road, and
next morning reached Valdivia, whence I proceeded on board.

A few days afterwards I crossed the bay with a party of officers,
and landed near the fort called Niebla. The buildings were in a
most ruinous state, and the gun-carriages quite rotten. Mr.
Wickham remarked to the commanding officer, that with one
discharge they would certainly all fall to pieces. The poor man,
trying to put a good face upon it, gravely replied, "No, I am
sure, sir, they would stand two!" The Spaniards must have
intended to have made this place impregnable. There is now lying
in the middle of the courtyard a little mountain of mortar, which
rivals in hardness the rock on which it is placed. It was brought
from Chile, and cost 7000 dollars. The revolution having broken
out prevented its being applied to any purpose, and now it
remains a monument of the fallen greatness of Spain.

I wanted to go to a house about a mile and a half distant, but my
guide said it was quite impossible to penetrate the wood in a
straight line. He offered, however, to lead me, by following
obscure cattle-tracks, the shortest way: the walk, nevertheless,
took no less than three hours! This man is employed in hunting
strayed cattle; yet, well as he must know the woods, he was not
long since lost for two whole days, and had nothing to eat. These
facts convey a good idea of the impracticability of the forests
of these countries. A question often occurred to me--how long
does any vestige of a fallen tree remain? This man showed me one
which a party of fugitive royalists had cut down fourteen years
ago; and taking this as a criterion, I should think a bole a foot
and a half in diameter would in thirty years be changed into a
heap of mould.

FEBRUARY 20,, 1835.

This day has been memorable in the annals of Valdivia, for the
most severe earthquake experienced by the oldest inhabitant. I
happened to be on shore, and was lying down in the wood to rest
myself. It came on suddenly, and lasted two minutes, but the time
appeared much longer. The rocking of the ground was very
sensible. The undulations appeared to my companion and myself to
come from due east, whilst others thought they proceeded from
south-west: this shows how difficult it sometimes is to perceive
the direction of the vibrations. There was no difficulty in
standing upright, but the motion made me almost giddy: it was
something like the movement of a vessel in a little cross-ripple,
or still more like that felt by a person skating over thin ice,
which bends under the weight of his body.

A bad earthquake at once destroys our oldest associations: the
earth, the very emblem of solidity, has moved beneath our feet
like a thin crust over a fluid;--one second of time has created
in the mind a strange idea of insecurity, which hours of
reflection would not have produced. In the forest, as a breeze
moved the trees, I felt only the earth tremble, but saw no other
effect. Captain Fitz Roy and some officers were at the town
during the shock, and there the scene was more striking; for
although the houses, from being built of wood, did not fall, they
were violently shaken, and the boards creaked and rattled
together. The people rushed out of doors in the greatest alarm.
It is these accompaniments that create that perfect horror of
earthquakes, experienced by all who have thus seen, as well as
felt, their effects. Within the forest it was a deeply
interesting, but by no means an awe-exciting phenomenon. The
tides were very curiously affected. The great shock took place at
the time of low water; and an old woman who was on the beach told
me that the water flowed very quickly, but not in great waves, to
high-water mark, and then as quickly returned to its proper
level; this was also evident by the line of wet sand. The same
kind of quick but quiet movement in the tide happened a few years
since at Chiloe, during a slight earthquake, and created much
causeless alarm. In the course of the evening there were many
weaker shocks, which seemed to produce in the harbour the most
complicated currents, and some of great strength.

MARCH 4, 1835.

We entered the harbour of Concepcion. While the ship was beating
up to the anchorage, I landed on the island of Quiriquina. The
mayor-domo of the estate quickly rode down to tell me the
terrible news of the great earthquake of the 20th:--"That not a
house in Concepcion or Talcahuano (the port) was standing; that
seventy villages were destroyed; and that a great wave had almost
washed away the ruins of Talcahuano." Of this latter statement I
soon saw abundant proofs--the whole coast being strewed over with
timber and furniture as if a thousand ships had been wrecked.
Besides chairs, tables, book-shelves, etc., in great numbers,
there were several roofs of cottages, which had been transported
almost whole. The storehouses at Talcahuano had been burst open,
and great bags of cotton, yerba, and other valuable merchandise
were scattered on the shore. During my walk round the island, I
observed that numerous fragments of rock, which, from the marine
productions adhering to them, must recently have been lying in
deep water, had been cast up high on the beach; one of these was
six feet long, three broad, and two thick.

The island itself as plainly showed the overwhelming power of the
earthquake, as the beach did that of the consequent great wave.
The ground in many parts was fissured in north and south lines,
perhaps caused by the yielding of the parallel and steep sides of
this narrow island. Some of the fissures near the cliffs were a
yard wide. Many enormous masses had already fallen on the beach;
and the inhabitants thought that when the rains commenced far
greater slips would happen. The effect of the vibration on the
hard primary slate, which composes the foundation of the island,
was still more curious: the superficial parts of some narrow
ridges were as completely shivered as if they had been blasted by
gunpowder. This effect, which was rendered conspicuous by the
fresh fractures and displaced soil, must be confined to near the
surface, for otherwise there would not exist a block of solid
rock throughout Chile; nor is this improbable, as it is known
that the surface of a vibrating body is affected differently from
the central part. It is, perhaps, owing to this same reason that
earthquakes do not cause quite such terrific havoc within deep
mines as would be expected. I believe this convulsion has been
more effectual in lessening the size of the island of Quiriquina,
than the ordinary wear-and-tear of the sea and weather during the
course of a whole century.

The next day I landed at Talcahuano, and afterwards rode to
Concepcion. Both towns presented the most awful yet interesting
spectacle I ever beheld. To a person who had formerly known them,
it possibly might have been still more impressive; for the ruins
were so mingled together, and the whole scene possessed so little
the air of a habitable place, that it was scarcely possible to
imagine its former condition. The earthquake commenced at
half-past eleven o'clock in the forenoon. If it had happened in
the middle of the night, the greater number of the inhabitants
(which in this one province amount to many thousands) must have
perished, instead of less than a hundred: as it was, the
invariable practice of running out of doors at the first
trembling of the ground, alone saved them. In Concepcion each
house, or row of houses, stood by itself, a heap or line of
ruins; but in Talcahuano, owing to the great wave, little more
than one layer of bricks, tiles, and timber, with here and there
part of a wall left standing, could be distinguished. From this
circumstance Concepcion, although not so completely desolated,
was a more terrible, and if I may so call it, picturesque sight.
The first shock was very sudden. The mayor-domo at Quiriquina
told me that the first notice he received of it, was finding both
the horse he rode and himself rolling together on the ground.
Rising up, he was again thrown down. He also told me that some
cows which were standing on the steep side of the island were
rolled into the sea. The great wave caused the destruction of
many cattle; on one low island near the head of the bay, seventy
animals were washed off and drowned. It is generally thought that
this has been the worst earthquake ever recorded in Chile; but as
the very severe ones occur only after long intervals, this cannot
easily be known; nor indeed would a much worse shock have made
any great difference, for the ruin was now complete. Innumerable
small tremblings followed the great earthquake, and within the
first twelve days no less than three hundred were counted.

After viewing Concepcion, I cannot understand how the greater
number of inhabitants escaped unhurt. The houses in many parts
fell outwards; thus forming in the middle of the streets little
hillocks of brickwork and rubbish. Mr. Rouse, the English consul,
told us that he was at breakfast when the first movement warned
him to run out. He had scarcely reached the middle of the
courtyard, when one side of his house came thundering down. He
retained presence of mind to remember that, if he once got on the
top of that part which had already fallen, he would be safe. Not
being able from the motion of the ground to stand, he crawled up
on his hands and knees; and no sooner had he ascended this little
eminence, than the other side of the house fell in, the great
beams sweeping close in front of his head. With his eyes blinded
and his mouth choked with the cloud of dust which darkened the
sky, at last he gained the street. As shock succeeded shock, at
the interval of a few minutes, no one dared approach the
shattered ruins, and no one knew whether his dearest friends and
relations were not perishing from the want of help. Those who had
saved any property were obliged to keep a constant watch, for
thieves prowled about, and at each little trembling of the
ground, with one hand they beat their breasts and cried
"misericordia!" and then with the other filched what they could
from the ruins. The thatched roofs fell over the fires, and
flames burst forth in all parts. Hundreds knew themselves ruined,
and few had the means of providing food for the day.

Earthquakes alone are sufficient to destroy the prosperity of any
country. If beneath England the now inert subterranean forces
should exert those powers which most assuredly in former
geological ages they have exerted, how completely would the
entire condition of the country be changed! What would become of
the lofty houses, thickly packed cities, great manufactories, the
beautiful public and private edifices? If the new period of
disturbance were first to commence by some great earthquake in
the dead of the night, how terrific would be the carnage! England
would at once be bankrupt; all papers, records, and accounts
would from that moment be lost. Government being unable to
collect the taxes, and failing to maintain its authority, the
hand of violence and rapine would remain uncontrolled. In every
large town famine would go forth, pestilence and death following
in its train.

Shortly after the shock, a great wave was seen from the distance
of three or four miles, approaching in the middle of the bay with
a smooth outline; but along the shore it tore up cottages and
trees, as it swept onwards with irresistible force. At the head
of the bay it broke in a fearful line of white breakers, which
rushed up to a height of 23 vertical feet above the highest
spring-tides. Their force must have been prodigious; for at the
Fort a cannon with its carriage, estimated at four tons in
weight, was moved 15 feet inwards. A schooner was left in the
midst of the ruins, 200 yards from the beach. The first wave was
followed by two others, which in their retreat carried away a
vast wreck of floating objects. In one part of the bay, a ship
was pitched high and dry on shore, was carried off, again driven
on shore, and again carried off. In another part two large
vessels anchored near together were whirled about, and their
cables were thrice wound round each other: though anchored at a
depth of 36 feet, they were for some minutes aground. The great
wave must have travelled slowly, for the inhabitants of
Talcahuano had time to run up the hills behind the town; and some
sailors pulled out seaward, trusting successfully to their boat
riding securely over the swell, if they could reach it before it
broke. One old woman with a little boy, four or five years old,
ran into a boat, but there was nobody to row it out: the boat was
consequently dashed against an anchor and cut in twain; the old
woman was drowned, but the child was picked up some hours
afterwards clinging to the wreck. Pools of salt-water were still
standing amidst the ruins of the houses, and children, making
boats with old tables and chairs, appeared as happy as their
parents were miserable. It was, however, exceedingly interesting
to observe, how much more active and cheerful all appeared than
could have been expected. It was remarked with much truth, that
from the destruction being universal, no one individual was
humbled more than another, or could suspect his friends of
coldness--that most grievous result of the loss of wealth. Mr.
Rouse, and a large party whom he kindly took under his
protection, lived for the first week in a garden beneath some
apple-trees. At first they were as merry as if it had been a
picnic; but soon afterwards heavy rain caused much discomfort,
for they were absolutely without shelter.

In Captain Fitz Roy's excellent account of the earthquake it is
said that two explosions, one like a column of smoke and another
like the blowing of a great whale, were seen in the bay. The
water also appeared everywhere to be boiling; and it "became
black, and exhaled a most disagreeable sulphureous smell." These
latter circumstances were observed in the Bay of Valparaiso
during the earthquake of 1822; they may, I think, be accounted
for by the disturbance of the mud at the bottom of the sea
containing organic matter in decay. In the Bay of Callao, during
a calm day, I noticed, that as the ship dragged her cable over
the bottom, its course was marked by a line of bubbles. The lower
orders in Talcahuano thought that the earthquake was caused by
some old Indian women, who two years ago, being offended, stopped
the volcano of Antuco. This silly belief is curious, because it
shows that experience has taught them to observe that there
exists a relation between the suppressed action of the volcanos,
and the trembling of the ground. It was necessary to apply the
witchcraft to the point where their perception of cause and
effect failed; and this was the closing of the volcanic vent.
This belief is the more singular in this particular instance
because, according to Captain Fitz Roy, there is reason to
believe that Antuco was noways affected.

The town of Concepcion was built in the usual Spanish fashion,
with all the streets running at right angles to each other; one
set ranging south-west by west, and the other set north-west by
north. The walls in the former direction certainly stood better
than those in the latter; the greater number of the masses of
brickwork were thrown down towards the north-east. Both these
circumstances perfectly agree with the general idea of the
undulations having come from the south-west; in which quarter
subterranean noises were also heard; for it is evident that the
walls running south-west and north-east which presented their
ends to the point whence the undulations came, would be much less
likely to fall than those walls which, running north-west and
south-east, must in their whole lengths have been at the same
instant thrown out of the perpendicular; for the undulations,
coming from the south-west, must have extended in north-west and
south-east waves, as they passed under the foundations. This may
be illustrated by placing books edgeways on a carpet, and then,
after the manner suggested by Michell, imitating the undulations
of an earthquake: it will be found that they fall with more or
less readiness, according as their direction more or less nearly
coincides with the line of the waves. The fissures in the ground
generally, though not uniformly, extended in a south-east and
north-west direction, and therefore corresponded to the lines of
undulation or of principal flexure. Bearing in mind all these
circumstances, which so clearly point to the south-west as the
chief focus of disturbance, it is a very interesting fact that
the island of S. Maria, situated in that quarter, was, during the
general uplifting of the land, raised to nearly three times the
height of any other part of the coast.

The different resistance offered by the walls, according to their
direction, was well exemplified in the case of the Cathedral. The
side which fronted the north-east presented a grand pile of
ruins, in the midst of which door-cases and masses of timber
stood up, as if floating in a stream. Some of the angular blocks
of brickwork were of great dimensions; and they were rolled to a
distance on the level plaza, like fragments of rock at the base
of some high mountain. The side walls (running south-west and
north-east), though exceedingly fractured, yet remained standing;
but the vast buttresses (at right angles to them, and therefore
parallel to the walls that fell) were in many cases cut clean
off, as if by a chisel, and hurled to the ground. Some square
ornaments on the coping of these same walls were moved by the
earthquake into a diagonal position. A similar circumstance was
observed after an earthquake at Valparaiso, Calabria, and other
places, including some of the ancient Greek temples. (14/1. M.
Arago in "L'Institut" 1839 page 337. See also Miers's "Chile"
volume 1 page 392; also Lyell's "Principles of Geology" chapter
15 book 2.) This twisting displacement at first appears to
indicate a vorticose movement beneath each point thus affected;
but this is highly improbable. May it not be caused by a tendency
in each stone to arrange itself in some particular position with
respect to the lines of vibration,--in a manner somewhat similar
to pins on a sheet of paper when shaken? Generally speaking,
arched doorways or windows stood much better than any other part
of the buildings. Nevertheless, a poor lame old man, who had been
in the habit, during trifling shocks, of crawling to a certain
doorway, was this time crushed to pieces.

I have not attempted to give any detailed description of the
appearance of Concepcion, for I feel that it is quite impossible
to convey the mingled feelings which I experienced. Several of
the officers visited it before me, but their strongest language
failed to give a just idea of the scene of desolation. It is a
bitter and humiliating thing to see works, which have cost man so
much time and labour, overthrown in one minute; yet compassion
for the inhabitants was almost instantly banished, by the
surprise in seeing a state of things produced in a moment of
time, which one was accustomed to attribute to a succession of
ages. In my opinion, we have scarcely beheld, since leaving
England, any sight so deeply interesting.

In almost every severe earthquake, the neighbouring waters of the
sea are said to have been greatly agitated. The disturbance seems
generally, as in the case of Concepcion, to have been of two
kinds: first, at the instant of the shock, the water swells high
up on the beach with a gentle motion, and then as quietly
retreats; secondly, some time afterwards, the whole body of the
sea retires from the coast, and then returns in waves of
overwhelming force. The first movement seems to be an immediate
consequence of the earthquake affecting differently a fluid and a
solid, so that their respective levels are slightly deranged: but
the second case is a far more important phenomenon. During most
earthquakes, and especially during those on the west coast of
America, it is certain that the first great movement of the
waters has been a retirement. Some authors have attempted to
explain this, by supposing that the water retains its level,
whilst the land oscillates upwards; but surely the water close to
the land, even on a rather steep coast, would partake of the
motion of the bottom: moreover, as urged by Mr. Lyell, similar
movements of the sea have occurred at islands far distant from
the chief line of disturbance, as was the case with Juan
Fernandez during this earthquake, and with Madeira during the
famous Lisbon shock. I suspect (but the subject is a very obscure
one) that a wave, however produced, first draws the water from
the shore, on which it is advancing to break: I have observed
that this happens with the little waves from the paddles of a
steam-boat. It is remarkable that whilst Talcahuano and Callao
(near Lima), both situated at the head of large shallow bays,
have suffered during every severe earthquake from great waves,
Valparaiso, seated close to the edge of profoundly deep water,
has never been overwhelmed, though so often shaken by the
severest shocks. From the great wave not immediately following
the earthquake, but sometimes after the interval of even half an
hour, and from distant islands being affected similarly with the
coasts near the focus of the disturbance, it appears that the
wave first rises in the offing; and as this is of general
occurrence, the cause must be general: I suspect we must look to
the line where the less disturbed waters of the deep ocean join
the water nearer the coast, which has partaken of the movements
of the land, as the place where the great wave is first
generated; it would also appear that the wave is larger or
smaller, according to the extent of shoal water which has been
agitated together with the bottom on which it rested.

The most remarkable effect of this earthquake was the permanent
elevation of the land; it would probably be far more correct to
speak of it as the cause. There can be no doubt that the land
round the Bay of Concepcion was upraised two or three feet; but
it deserves notice, that owing to the wave having obliterated the
old lines of tidal action on the sloping sandy shores, I could
discover no evidence of this fact, except in the united testimony
of the inhabitants, that one little rocky shoal, now exposed, was
formerly covered with water. At the island of S. Maria (about
thirty miles distant) the elevation was greater; on one part,
Captain Fitz Roy found beds of putrid mussel-shells STILL
ADHERING TO THE ROCKS, ten feet above high-water mark: the
inhabitants had formerly dived at lower-water spring-tides for
these shells. The elevation of this province is particularly
interesting, from its having been the theatre of several other
violent earthquakes, and from the vast numbers of sea-shells
scattered over the land, up to a height of certainly 600, and I
believe, of 1000 feet. At Valparaiso, as I have remarked, similar
shells are found at the height of 1300 feet: it is hardly
possible to doubt that this great elevation has been effected by
successive small uprisings, such as that which accompanied or
caused the earthquake of this year, and likewise by an insensibly
slow rise, which is certainly in progress on some parts of this
coast.

The island of Juan Fernandez, 360 miles to the north-east, was,
at the time of the great shock of the 20th, violently shaken, so
that the trees beat against each other, and a volcano burst forth
under water close to the shore: these facts are remarkable
because this island, during the earthquake of 1751, was then also
affected more violently than other places at an equal distance
from Concepcion, and this seems to show some subterranean
connexion between these two points. Chiloe, about 340 miles
southward of Concepcion, appears to have been shaken more
strongly than the intermediate district of Valdivia, where the
volcano of Villarica was noways affected, whilst in the
Cordillera in front of Chiloe two of the volcanos burst forth at
the same instant in violent action. These two volcanos, and some
neighbouring ones, continued for a long time in eruption, and ten
months afterwards were again influenced by an earthquake at
Concepcion. Some men cutting wood near the base of one of these
volcanos, did not perceive the shock of the 20th, although the
whole surrounding Province was then trembling; here we have an
eruption relieving and taking the place of an earthquake, as
would have happened at Concepcion, according to the belief of the
lower orders, if the volcano at Antuco had not been closed by
witchcraft. Two years and three-quarters afterwards Valdivia and
Chiloe were again shaken, more violently than on the 20th, and an
island in the Chonos Archipelago was permanently elevated more
than eight feet. It will give a better idea of the scale of these
phenomena, if (as in the case of the glaciers) we suppose them to
have taken place at corresponding distances in Europe:--then
would the land from the North Sea to the Mediterranean have been
violently shaken, and at the same instant of time a large tract
of the eastern coast of England would have been permanently
elevated, together with some outlying islands,--a train of
volcanos on the coast of Holland would have burst forth in
action, and an eruption taken place at the bottom of the sea,
near the northern extremity of Ireland--and lastly, the ancient
vents of Auvergne, Cantal, and Mont d'Or would each have sent up
to the sky a dark column of smoke, and have long remained in
fierce action. Two years and three-quarters afterwards, France,
from its centre to the English Channel, would have been again
desolated by an earthquake, and an island permanently upraised in
the Mediterranean.

The space, from under which volcanic matter on the 20th was
actually erupted, is 720 miles in one line, and 400 miles in
another line at right angles to the first: hence, in all
probability, a subterranean lake of lava is here stretched out,
of nearly double the area of the Black Sea. From the intimate and
complicated manner in which the elevatory and eruptive forces
were shown to be connected during this train of phenomena, we may
confidently come to the conclusion that the forces which slowly
and by little starts uplift continents, and those which at
successive periods pour forth volcanic matter from open orifices,
are identical. From many reasons, I believe that the frequent
quakings of the earth on this line of coast are caused by the
rending of the strata, necessarily consequent on the tension of
the land when upraised, and their injection by fluidified rock.
This rending and injection would, if repeated often enough (and
we know that earthquakes repeatedly affect the same areas in the
same manner), form a chain of hills;--and the linear island of
St. Mary, which was upraised thrice the height of the
neighbouring country, seems to be undergoing this process. I
believe that the solid axis of a mountain differs in its manner
of formation from a volcanic hill, only in the molten stone
having been repeatedly injected, instead of having been
repeatedly ejected. Moreover, I believe that it is impossible to
explain the structure of great mountain-chains, such as that of
the Cordillera, where the strata, capping the injected axis of
plutonic rock, have been thrown on their edges along several
parallel and neighbouring lines of elevation, except on this view
of the rock of the axis having been repeatedly injected, after
intervals sufficiently long to allow the upper parts or wedges to
cool and become solid;--for if the strata had been thrown into
their present highly-inclined, vertical, and even inverted
positions, by a single blow, the very bowels of the earth would
have gushed out; and instead of beholding abrupt mountain-axes of
rock solidified under great pressure, deluges of lava would have
flowed out at innumerable points on every line of elevation.
(14/2. For a full account of the volcanic phenomena which
accompanied the earthquake of the 20th, and for the conclusions
deducible from them, I must refer to Volume 5 of the "Geological
Transactions.")


CHAPTER XV.

(PLATE 72.  HIDE BRIDGE, SANTIAGO DE CHILE.)

Valparaiso.
Portillo Pass.
Sagacity of mules.
Mountain-torrents.
Mines, how discovered.
Proofs of the gradual elevation of the Cordillera.
Effect of snow on rocks.
Geological structure of the two main ranges, their distinct
origin and upheaval.
Great subsidence.
Red snow.
Winds.
Pinnacles of snow.
Dry and clear atmosphere.
Electricity.
Pampas.
Zoology of the opposite sides of the Andes.
Locusts.
Great Bugs.
Mendoza.
Uspallata Pass.
Silicified trees buried as they grew.
Incas Bridge.
Badness of the passes exaggerated.
Cumbre.
Casuchas.
Valparaiso.

PASSAGE OF THE CORDILLERA.

MARCH 7, 1835.

We stayed three days at Concepcion, and then sailed for
Valparaiso. The wind being northerly, we only reached the mouth
of the harbour of Concepcion before it was dark. Being very near
the land, and a fog coming on, the anchor was dropped. Presently
a large American whaler appeared close alongside of us; and we
heard the Yankee swearing at his men to keep quiet, whilst he
listened for the breakers. Captain Fitz Roy hailed him, in a loud
clear voice, to anchor where he then was. The poor man must have
thought the voice came from the shore: such a Babel of cries
issued at once from the ship--every one hallooing out, "Let go
the anchor! veer cable! shorten sail!" It was the most laughable
thing I ever heard. If the ship's crew had been all captains, and
no men, there could not have been a greater uproar of orders. We
afterwards found that the mate stuttered: I suppose all hands
were assisting him in giving his orders.

On the 11th we anchored at Valparaiso, and two days afterwards I
set out to cross the Cordillera. I proceeded to Santiago, where
Mr. Caldcleugh most kindly assisted me in every possible way in
making the little preparations which were necessary. In this part
of Chile there are two passes across the Andes to Mendoza: the
one most commonly used, namely, that of Aconcagua or
Uspallata--is situated some way to the north; the other, called
the Portillo, is to the south, and nearer, but more lofty and
dangerous.

MARCH 18, 1835.

(PLATE 73.  CHILENOS.)

We set out for the Portillo pass. Leaving Santiago we crossed the
wide burnt-up plain on which that city stands, and in the
afternoon arrived at the Maypu, one of the principal rivers in
Chile. The valley, at the point where it enters the first
Cordillera, is bounded on each side by lofty barren mountains;
and although not broad, it is very fertile. Numerous cottages
were surrounded by vines, and by orchards of apple, nectarine,
and peach-trees--their boughs breaking with the weight of the
beautiful ripe fruit. In the evening we passed the custom-house,
where our luggage was examined. The frontier of Chile is better
guarded by the Cordillera than by the waters of the sea. There
are very few valleys which lead to the central ranges, and the
mountains are quite impassable in other parts by beasts of
burden. The custom-house officers were very civil, which was
perhaps partly owing to the passport which the President of the
Republic had given me; but I must express my admiration at the
natural politeness of almost every Chileno. In this instance, the
contrast with the same class of men in most other countries was
strongly marked. I may mention an anecdote with which I was at
the time much pleased: we met near Mendoza a little and very fat
negress, riding astride on a mule. She had a goitre so enormous
that it was scarcely possible to avoid gazing at her for a
moment; but my two companions almost instantly, by way of
apology, made the common salute of the country by taking off
their hats. Where would one of the lower or higher classes in
Europe have shown such feeling politeness to a poor and miserable
object of a degraded race?

At night we slept at a cottage. Our manner of travelling was
delightfully independent. In the inhabited parts we bought a
little firewood, hired pasture for the animals, and bivouacked in
the corner of the same field with them. Carrying an iron pot, we
cooked and ate our supper under a cloudless sky, and knew no
trouble. My companions were Mariano Gonzales, who had formerly
accompanied me in Chile, and an "arriero," with his ten mules and
a "madrina." The madrina (or godmother) is a most important
personage: she is an old steady mare, with a little bell round
her neck; and wherever she goes, the mules, like good children,
follow her. The affection of these animals for their madrinas
saves infinite trouble. If several large troops are turned into
one field to graze, in the morning the muleteers have only to
lead the madrinas a little apart, and tinkle their bells; and
although there may be two or three hundred together, each mule
immediately knows the bell of its own madrina, and comes to her.
It is nearly impossible to lose an old mule; for if detained for
several hours by force, she will, by the power of smell, like a
dog, track out her companions, or rather the madrina, for,
according to the muleteer, she is the chief object of affection.
The feeling, however, is not of an individual nature; for I
believe I am right in saying that any animal with a bell will
serve as a madrina. In a troop each animal carries on a level
road, a cargo weighing 416 pounds (more than 29 stone), but in a
mountainous country 100 pounds less; yet with what delicate slim
limbs, without any proportional bulk of muscle, these animals
support so great a burden! The mule always appears to me a most
surprising animal. That a hybrid should possess more reason,
memory, obstinacy, social affection, powers of muscular
endurance, and length of life, than either of its parents, seems
to indicate that art has here outdone nature. Of our ten animals,
six were intended for riding, and four for carrying cargoes, each
taking turn about. We carried a good deal of food in case we
should be snowed up, as the season was rather late for passing
the Portillo.

MARCH 19, 1835.

We rode during this day to the last, and therefore most elevated,
house in the valley. The number of inhabitants became scanty; but
wherever water could be brought on the land, it was very fertile.
All the main valleys in the Cordillera are characterised by
having, on both sides, a fringe or terrace of shingle and sand,
rudely stratified, and generally of considerable thickness. These
fringes evidently once extended across the valleys and were
united; and the bottoms of the valleys in northern Chile, where
there are no streams, are thus smoothly filled up. On these
fringes the roads are generally carried, for their surfaces are
even, and they rise with a very gentle slope up the valleys:
hence, also, they are easily cultivated by irrigation. They may
be traced up to a height of between 7000 and 9000 feet, where
they become hidden by the irregular piles of debris. At the lower
end or mouths of the valleys they are continuously united to
those land-locked plains (also formed of shingle) at the foot of
the main Cordillera, which I have described in a former chapter
as characteristic of the scenery of Chile, and which were
undoubtedly deposited when the sea penetrated Chile, as it now
does the more southern coasts. No one fact in the geology of
South America interested me more than these terraces of
rudely-stratified shingle. They precisely resemble in composition
the matter which the torrents in each valley would deposit if
they were checked in their course by any cause, such as entering
a lake or arm of the sea; but the torrents, instead of depositing
matter, are now steadily at work wearing away both the solid rock
and these alluvial deposits, along the whole line of every main
valley and side valley. It is impossible here to give the
reasons, but I am convinced that the shingle terraces were
accumulated, during the gradual elevation of the Cordillera, by
the torrents delivering, at successive levels, their detritus on
the beach-heads of long narrow arms of the sea, first high up the
valleys, then lower and lower down as the land slowly rose. If
this be so, and I cannot doubt it, the grand and broken chain of
the Cordillera, instead of having been suddenly thrown up, as was
till lately the universal, and still is the common opinion of
geologists, has been slowly upheaved in mass, in the same gradual
manner as the coasts of the Atlantic and Pacific have risen
within the recent period. A multitude of facts in the structure
of the Cordillera, on this view receive a simple explanation.

(PLATE 74.  SOUTH AMERICAN BIT.)

The rivers which flow in these valleys ought rather to be called
mountain-torrents. Their inclination is very great, and their
water the colour of mud. The roar which the Maypu made, as it
rushed over the great rounded fragments, was like that of the
sea. Amidst the din of rushing waters, the noise from the stones,
as they rattled one over another, was most distinctly audible
even from a distance. This rattling noise, night and day, may be
heard along the whole course of the torrent. The sound spoke
eloquently to the geologist; the thousands and thousands of
stones which, striking against each other, made the one dull
uniform sound, were all hurrying in one direction. It was like
thinking on time, where the minute that now glides past is
irrevocable. So was it with these stones; the ocean is their
eternity, and each note of that wild music told of one more step
towards their destiny.

It is not possible for the mind to comprehend, except by a slow
process, any effect which is produced by a cause repeated so
often that the multiplier itself conveys an idea not more
definite than the savage implies when he points to the hairs of
his head. As often as I have seen beds of mud, sand, and shingle,
accumulated to the thickness of many thousand feet, I have felt
inclined to exclaim that causes, such as the present rivers and
the present beaches, could never have ground down and produced
such masses. But, on the other hand, when listening to the
rattling noise of these torrents, and calling to mind that whole
races of animals have passed away from the face of the earth, and
that during this whole period, night and day, these stones have
gone rattling onwards in their course, I have thought to myself,
can any mountains, any continent, withstand such waste?

In this part of the valley, the mountains on each side were from
3000 to 6000 or 8000 feet high, with rounded outlines and steep
bare flanks. The general colour of the rock was dullish purple,
and the stratification very distinct. If the scenery was not
beautiful, it was remarkable and grand. We met during the day
several herds of cattle, which men were driving down from the
higher valleys in the Cordillera. This sign of the approaching
winter hurried our steps, more than was convenient for
geologising. The house where we slept was situated at the foot of
a mountain, on the summit of which are the mines of S. Pedro de
Nolasko. Sir F. Head marvels how mines have been discovered in
such extraordinary situations, as the bleak summit of the
mountain of S. Pedro de Nolasko. In the first place, metallic
veins in this country are generally harder than the surrounding
strata: hence, during the gradual wear of the hills, they project
above the surface of the ground. Secondly, almost every labourer,
especially in the northern parts of Chile, understands something
about the appearance of ores. In the great mining provinces of
Coquimbo and Copiap, firewood is very scarce, and men search for
it over every hill and dale; and by this means nearly all the
richest mines have there been discovered. Chanuncillo, from which
silver to the value of many hundred thousand pounds has been
raised in the course of a few years, was discovered by a man who
threw a stone at his loaded donkey, and thinking that it was very
heavy, he picked it up, and found it full of pure silver: the
vein occurred at no great distance, standing up like a wedge of
metal. The miners, also, taking a crowbar with them, often wander
on Sundays over the mountains. In this south part of Chile the
men who drive cattle into the Cordillera, and who frequent every
ravine where there is a little pasture, are the usual
discoverers.

MARCH 20, 1835.

As we ascended the valley, the vegetation, with the exception of
a few pretty alpine flowers, became exceedingly scanty; and of
quadrupeds, birds, or insects, scarcely one could be seen. The
lofty mountains, their summits marked with a few patches of snow,
stood well separated from each other; the valleys being filled up
with an immense thickness of stratified alluvium. The features in
the scenery of the Andes which struck me most, as contrasted with
the other mountain chains with which I am acquainted, were,--the
flat fringes sometimes expanding into narrow plains on each side
of the valleys,--the bright colours, chiefly red and purple, of
the utterly bare and precipitous hills of porphyry, the grand and
continuous wall-like dikes,--the plainly-divided strata which,
where nearly vertical, formed the picturesque and wild central
pinnacles, but where less inclined, composed the great massive
mountains on the outskirts of the range,--and lastly, the smooth
conical piles of fine and brightly coloured detritus, which
sloped up at a high angle from the base of the mountains,
sometimes to a height of more than 2000 feet.

I frequently observed, both in Tierra del Fuego and within the
Andes, that where the rock was covered during the greater part of
the year with snow, it was shivered in a very extraordinary
manner into small angular fragments. Scoresby has observed the
same fact in Spitzbergen. (15/1. Scoresby's "Arctic Regions"
volume 1 page 122.) The case appears to me rather obscure: for
that part of the mountain which is protected by a mantle of snow
must be less subject to repeated and great changes of temperature
than any other part. I have sometimes thought that the earth and
fragments of stone on the surface were perhaps less effectually
removed by slowly percolating snow-water than by rain, and
therefore that the appearance of a quicker disintegration of the
solid rock under the snow was deceptive. (15/2. I have heard it
remarked in Shropshire that the water, when the Severn is flooded
from long-continued rain, is much more turbid than when it
proceeds from the snow melting on the Welsh mountains. D'Orbigny
tome 1 page 184, in explaining the cause of the various colours
of the rivers in South America, remarks that those with blue or
clear water have their source in the Cordillera, where the snow
melts.) Whatever the cause may be, the quantity of crumbling
stone on the Cordillera is very great. Occasionally in the spring
great masses of this detritus slide down the mountains, and cover
the snow-drifts in the valleys, thus forming natural ice-houses.
We rode over one, the height of which was far below the limit of
perpetual snow.

As the evening drew to a close, we reached a singular basin-like
plain, called the Valle del Yeso. It was covered by a little dry
pasture, and we had the pleasant sight of a herd of cattle amidst
the surrounding rocky deserts. The valley takes its name of Yeso
from a great bed, I should think at least 2000 feet thick, of
white, and in some parts quite pure, gypsum. We slept with a
party of men, who were employed in loading mules with this
substance, which is used in the manufacture of wine. We set out
early in the morning (21st), and continued to follow the course
of the river, which had become very small, till we arrived at the
foot of the ridge that separates the waters flowing into the
Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. The road, which as yet had been good
with a steady but very gradual ascent, now changed into a steep
zigzag track up the great range dividing the republics of Chile
and Mendoza.

I will here give a very brief sketch of the geology of the
several parallel lines forming the Cordillera. Of these lines,
there are two considerably higher than the others; namely, on the
Chilian side, the Peuquenes ridge, which, where the road crosses
it, is 13,210 feet above the sea; and the Portillo ridge, on the
Mendoza side, which is 14,305 feet. The lower beds of the
Peuquenes ridge, and of the several great lines to the westward
of it, are composed of a vast pile, many thousand feet in
thickness, of porphyries which have flowed as submarine lavas,
alternating with angular and rounded fragments of the same rocks,
thrown out of the submarine craters. These alternating masses are
covered in the central parts by a great thickness of red
sandstone, conglomerate, and calcareous clay-slate, associated
with, and passing into, prodigious beds of gypsum. In these upper
beds shells are tolerably frequent; and they belong to about the
period of the lower chalk of Europe. It is an old story, but not
the less wonderful, to hear of shells which were once crawling on
the bottom of the sea, now standing nearly 14,000 feet above its
level. The lower beds in this great pile of strata have been
dislocated, baked, crystallised and almost blended together,
through the agency of mountain masses of a peculiar white
soda-granitic rock.

The other main line, namely, that of the Portillo, is of a
totally different formation: it consists chiefly of grand bare
pinnacles of a red potash-granite, which low down on the western
flank are covered by a sandstone, converted by the former heat
into a quartz-rock. On the quartz there rest beds of a
conglomerate several thousand feet in thickness, which have been
upheaved by the red granite, and dip at an angle of 45 degrees
towards the Peuquenes line. I was astonished to find that this
conglomerate was partly composed of pebbles, derived from the
rocks, with their fossil shells, of the Peuquenes range; and
partly of red potash-granite, like that of the Portillo. Hence we
must conclude that both the Peuquenes and Portillo ranges were
partially upheaved and exposed to wear and tear when the
conglomerate was forming; but as the beds of the conglomerate
have been thrown off at an angle of 45 degrees by the red
Portillo granite (with the underlying sandstone baked by it), we
may feel sure that the greater part of the injection and upheaval
of the already partially formed Portillo line took place after
the accumulation of the conglomerate, and long after the
elevation of the Peuquenes ridge. So that the Portillo, the
loftiest line in this part of the Cordillera, is not so old as
the less lofty line of the Peuquenes. Evidence derived from an
inclined stream of lava at the eastern base of the Portillo might
be adduced to show that it owes part of its great height to
elevations of a still later date. Looking to its earliest origin,
the red granite seems to have been injected on an ancient
pre-existing line of white granite and mica-slate. In most parts,
perhaps in all parts, of the Cordillera, it may be concluded that
each line has been formed by repeated upheavals and injections;
and that the several parallel lines are of different ages. Only
thus can we gain time at all sufficient to explain the truly
astonishing amount of denudation which these great, though
comparatively with most other ranges recent, mountains have
suffered.

Finally, the shells in the Peuquenes or oldest ridge prove, as
before remarked, that it has been upraised 14,000 feet since a
Secondary period, which in Europe we are accustomed to consider
as far from ancient; but since these shells lived in a moderately
deep sea, it can be shown that the area now occupied by the
Cordillera must have subsided several thousand feet--in northern
Chile as much as 6000 feet--so as to have allowed that amount of
submarine strata to have been heaped on the bed on which the
shells lived. The proof is the same with that by which it was
shown that, at a much later period since the tertiary shells of
Patagonia lived, there must have been there a subsidence of
several hundred feet, as well as an ensuing elevation. Daily it
is forced home on the mind of the geologist that nothing, not
even the wind that blows, is so unstable as the level of the
crust of this earth.

I will make only one other geological remark: although the
Portillo chain is here higher than the Peuquenes, the waters,
draining the intermediate valleys, have burst through it. The
same fact, on a grander scale, has been remarked in the eastern
and loftiest line of the Bolivian Cordillera, through which the
rivers pass: analogous facts have also been observed in other
quarters of the world. On the supposition of the subsequent and
gradual elevation of the Portillo line, this can be understood;
for a chain of islets would at first appear, and, as these were
lifted up, the tides would be always wearing deeper and broader
channels between them. At the present day, even in the most
retired Sounds on the coast of Tierra del Fuego, the currents in
the transverse breaks which connect the longitudinal channels are
very strong, so that in one transverse channel even a small
vessel under sail was whirled round and round.

About noon we began the tedious ascent of the Peuquenes ridge,
and then for the first time experienced some little difficulty in
our respiration. The mules would halt every fifty yards, and
after resting for a few seconds the poor willing animals started
of their own accord again. The short breathing from the rarefied
atmosphere is called by the Chilenos "puna;" and they have most
ridiculous notions concerning its origin. Some say "All the
waters here have puna;" others that "where there is snow there is
puna;"--and this no doubt is true. The only sensation I
experienced was a slight tightness across the head and chest,
like that felt on leaving a warm room and running quickly in
frosty weather. There was some imagination even in this; for upon
finding fossil shells on the highest ridge, I entirely forgot the
puna in my delight. Certainly the exertion of walking was
extremely great, and the respiration became deep and laborious: I
am told that in Potosi (about 13,000 feet above the sea)
strangers do not become thoroughly accustomed to the atmosphere
for an entire year. The inhabitants all recommend onions for the
puna; as this vegetable has sometimes been given in Europe for
pectoral complaints, it may possibly be of real service:--for my
part I found nothing so good as the fossil shells!

When about half-way up we met a large party with seventy loaded
mules. It was interesting to hear the wild cries of the
muleteers, and to watch the long descending string of the
animals; they appeared so diminutive, there being nothing but the
black mountains with which they could be compared. When near the
summit, the wind, as generally happens, was impetuous and
extremely cold. On each side of the ridge we had to pass over
broad bands of perpetual snow, which were now soon to be covered
by a fresh layer. When we reached the crest and looked backwards,
a glorious view was presented. The atmosphere resplendently
clear; the sky an intense blue; the profound valleys; the wild
broken forms: the heaps of ruins, piled up during the lapse of
ages; the bright-coloured rocks, contrasted with the quiet
mountains of snow, all these together produced a scene no one
could have imagined. Neither plant nor bird, excepting a few
condors wheeling around the higher pinnacles, distracted my
attention from the inanimate mass. I felt glad that I was alone:
it was like watching a thunderstorm, or hearing in full orchestra
a chorus of the Messiah.

On several patches of the snow I found the Protococcus nivalis,
or red snow, so well known from the accounts of Arctic
navigators. My attention was called to it by observing the
footsteps of the mules stained a pale red, as if their hoofs had
been slightly bloody. I at first thought that it was owing to
dust blown from the surrounding mountains of red porphyry; for
from the magnifying power of the crystals of snow, the groups of
these microscopical plants appeared like coarse particles. The
snow was coloured only where it had thawed very rapidly, or had
been accidentally crushed. A little rubbed on paper gave it a
faint rose tinge mingled with a little brick-red. I afterwards
scraped some off the paper, and found that it consisted of groups
of little spheres in colourless cases, each the thousandth part
of an inch in diameter.

The wind on the crest of the Peuquenes, as just remarked, is
generally impetuous and very cold: it is said to blow steadily
from the westward or Pacific side. (15/3. Dr. Gillies in "Journal
of Natural and Geographical Science" August 1830. This author
gives the heights of the Passes.) As the observations have been
chiefly made in summer, this wind must be an upper and return
current. The Peak of Teneriffe, with a less elevation, and
situated in latitude 28 degrees, in like manner falls within an
upper return stream. At first it appears rather surprising that
the trade-wind along the northern parts of Chile and on the coast
of Peru should blow in so very southerly a direction as it does;
but when we reflect that the Cordillera, running in a north and
south line, intercepts, like a great wall, the entire depth of
the lower atmospheric current, we can easily see that the
trade-wind must be drawn northward, following the line of
mountains, towards the equatorial regions, and thus lose part of
that easterly movement which it otherwise would have gained from
the earth's rotation. At Mendoza, on the eastern foot of the
Andes, the climate is said to be subject to long calms, and to
frequent though false appearances of gathering rain-storms: we
may imagine that the wind, which coming from the eastward is thus
banked up by the line of mountains, would become stagnant and
irregular in its movements.

Having crossed the Peuquenes, we descended into a mountainous
country, intermediate between the two main ranges, and then took
up our quarters for the night. We were now in the republic of
Mendoza. The elevation was probably not under 11,000 feet, and
the vegetation in consequence exceedingly scanty. The root of a
small scrubby plant served as fuel, but it made a miserable fire,
and the wind was piercingly cold. Being quite tired with my days
work, I made up my bed as quickly as I could, and went to sleep.
About midnight I observed the sky became suddenly clouded: I
awakened the arriero to know if there was any danger of bad
weather; but he said that without thunder and lightning there was
no risk of a heavy snow-storm. The peril is imminent, and the
difficulty of subsequent escape great, to any one overtaken by
bad weather between the two ranges. A certain cave offers the
only place of refuge: Mr. Caldcleugh, who crossed on this same
day of the month, was detained there for some time by a heavy
fall of snow. Casuchas, or houses of refuge, have not been built
in this pass as in that of Uspallata, and therefore, during the
autumn, the Portillo is little frequented. I may here remark that
within the main Cordillera rain never falls, for during the
summer the sky is cloudless, and in winter snow-storms alone
occur.

At the place where we slept water necessarily boiled, from the
diminished pressure of the atmosphere, at a lower temperature
than it does in a less lofty country; the case being the converse
of that of a Papin's digester. Hence the potatoes, after
remaining for some hours in the boiling water, were nearly as
hard as ever. The pot was left on the fire all night, and next
morning it was boiled again, but yet the potatoes were not
cooked. I found out this by overhearing my two companions
discussing the cause, they had come to the simple conclusion
"that the cursed pot (which was a new one) did not choose to boil
potatoes."

MARCH 22, 1835.

After eating our potato-less breakfast, we travelled across the
intermediate tract to the foot of the Portillo range. In the
middle of summer cattle are brought up here to graze; but they
had now all been removed: even the greater number of the guanacos
had decamped, knowing well that if overtaken here by a
snow-storm, they would be caught in a trap. We had a fine view of
a mass of mountains called Tupungato, the whole clothed with
unbroken snow, in the midst of which there was a blue patch, no
doubt a glacier;--a circumstance of rare occurrence in these
mountains. Now commenced a heavy and long climb, similar to that
of the Peuquenes. Bold conical hills of red granite rose on each
hand; in the valleys there were several broad fields of perpetual
snow. These frozen masses, during the process of thawing, had in
some parts been converted into pinnacles or columns, which, as
they were high and close together, made it difficult for the
cargo mules to pass. (15/4. This structure in frozen snow was
long since observed by Scoresby in the icebergs near Spitzbergen,
and, lately, with more care, by Colonel Jackson "Journal of
Geographical Society" volume 5 page 12, on the Neva. Mr. Lyell
"Principles" volume 4 page 360, has compared the fissures, by
which the columnar structure seems to be determined, to the
joints that traverse nearly all rocks, but which are best seen in
the non-stratified masses. I may observe that in the case of the
frozen snow the columnar structure must be owing to a
"metamorphic" action, and not to a process during DEPOSITION.) On
one of these columns of ice a frozen horse was sticking as on a
pedestal, but with its hind legs straight up in the air. The
animal, I suppose, must have fallen with its head downward into a
hole, when the snow was continuous, and afterwards the
surrounding parts must have been removed by the thaw.

When nearly on the crest of the Portillo, we were enveloped in a
falling cloud of minute frozen spicula. This was very
unfortunate, as it continued the whole day, and quite intercepted
our view. The pass takes its name of Portillo from a narrow cleft
or doorway on the highest ridge, through which the road passes.
From this point, on a clear day, those vast plains which
uninterruptedly extend to the Atlantic Ocean can be seen. We
descended to the upper limit of vegetation, and found good
quarters for the night under the shelter of some large fragments
of rock. We met here some passengers, who made anxious inquiries
about the state of the road. Shortly after it was dark the clouds
suddenly cleared away, and the effect was quite magical. The
great mountains, bright with the full moon, seemed impending over
us on all sides, as over a deep crevice: one morning, very early,
I witnessed the same striking effect. As soon as the clouds were
dispersed it froze severely; but as there was no wind, we slept
very comfortably.

The increased brilliancy of the moon and stars at this elevation,
owing to the perfect transparency of the atmosphere, was very
remarkable. Travellers having observed the difficulty of judging
heights and distances amidst lofty mountains, have generally
attributed it to the absence of objects of comparison. It appears
to me, that it is fully as much owing to the transparency of the
air confounding objects at different distances, and likewise
partly to the novelty of an unusual degree of fatigue arising
from a little exertion,--habit being thus opposed to the evidence
of the senses. I am sure that this extreme clearness of the air
gives a peculiar character to the landscape, all objects
appearing to be brought nearly into one plane, as in a drawing or
panorama. The transparency is, I presume, owing to the equable
and high state of atmospheric dryness. This dryness was shown by
the manner in which woodwork shrank (as I soon found by the
trouble my geological hammer gave me); by articles of food, such
as bread and sugar, becoming extremely hard; and by the
preservation of the skin and parts of the flesh of the beasts
which had perished on the road. To the same cause we must
attribute the singular facility with which electricity is
excited. My flannel-waistcoat, when rubbed in the dark, appeared
as if it had been washed with phosphorus,--every hair on a dog's
back crackled;--even the linen sheets, and leathern straps of the
saddle, when handled, emitted sparks.

MARCH 23, 1835.

The descent on the eastern side of the Cordillera is much shorter
or steeper than on the Pacific side; in other words, the
mountains rise more abruptly from the plains than from the alpine
country of Chile. A level and brilliantly white sea of clouds was
stretched out beneath our feet, shutting out the view of the
equally level Pampas. We soon entered the band of clouds, and did
not again emerge from it that day. About noon, finding pasture
for the animals and bushes for firewood at Los Arenales, we
stopped for the night. This was near the uppermost limit of
bushes, and the elevation, I suppose, was between seven and eight
thousand feet.

I was much struck with the marked difference between the
vegetation of these eastern valleys and those on the Chilian
side: yet the climate, as well as the kind of soil, is nearly the
same, and the difference of longitude very trifling. The same
remark holds good with the quadrupeds, and in a lesser degree
with the birds and insects. I may instance the mice, of which I
obtained thirteen species on the shores of the Atlantic, and five
on the Pacific, and not one of them is identical. We must except
all those species which habitually or occasionally frequent
elevated mountains; and certain birds, which range as far south
as the Strait of Magellan. This fact is in perfect accordance
with the geological history of the Andes; for these mountains
have existed as a great barrier since the present races of
animals have appeared; and therefore, unless we suppose the same
species to have been created in two different places, we ought
not to expect any closer similarity between the organic beings on
the opposite sides of the Andes than on the opposite shores of
the ocean. In both cases, we must leave out of the question those
kinds which have been able to cross the barrier, whether of solid
rock or salt-water. (15/5. This is merely an illustration of the
admirable laws, first laid down by Mr. Lyell, on the geographical
distribution of animals, as influenced by geological changes. The
whole reasoning, of course, is founded on the assumption of the
immutability of species; otherwise the difference in the species
in the two regions might be considered as superinduced during a
length of time.)

A great number of the plants and animals were absolutely the same
as, or most closely allied to, those of Patagonia. We here have
the agouti, bizcacha, three species of armadillo, the ostrich,
certain kinds of partridges and other birds, none of which are
ever seen in Chile, but are the characteristic animals of the
desert plains of Patagonia. We have likewise many of the same (to
the eyes of a person who is not a botanist) thorny stunted
bushes, withered grass, and dwarf plants. Even the black slowly
crawling beetles are closely similar, and some, I believe, on
rigorous examination, absolutely identical. It had always been to
me a subject of regret that we were unavoidably compelled to give
up the ascent of the S. Cruz river before reaching the mountains:
I always had a latent hope of meeting with some great change in
the features of the country; but I now feel sure that it would
only have been following the plains of Patagonia up a mountainous
ascent.

MARCH 24, 1835.

Early in the morning I climbed up a mountain on one side of the
valley, and enjoyed a far extended view over the Pampas. This was
a spectacle to which I had always looked forward with interest,
but I was disappointed: at the first glance it much resembled a
distant view of the ocean, but in the northern parts many
irregularities were soon distinguishable. The most striking
feature consisted in the rivers, which, facing the rising sun,
glittered like silver threads, till lost in the immensity of the
distance. At mid-day we descended the valley, and reached a
hovel, where an officer and three soldiers were posted to examine
passports. One of these men was a thoroughbred Pampas Indian: he
was kept much for the same purpose as a bloodhound, to track out
any person who might pass by secretly, either on foot or
horseback. Some years ago a passenger endeavoured to escape
detection by making a long circuit over a neighbouring mountain;
but this Indian, having by chance crossed his track, followed it
for the whole day over dry and very stony hills, till at last he
came on his prey hidden in a gully. We here heard that the
silvery clouds, which we had admired from the bright region
above, had poured down torrents of rain. The valley from this
point gradually opened, and the hills became mere water-worn
hillocks compared to the giants behind; it then expanded into a
gently sloping plain of shingle, covered with low trees and
bushes. This talus, although appearing narrow, must be nearly ten
miles wide before it blends into the apparently dead level
Pampas. We passed the only house in this neighbourhood, the
Estancia of Chaquaio: and at sunset we pulled up in the first
snug corner, and there bivouacked.

MARCH 25, 1835.

I was reminded of the Pampas of Buenos Ayres, by seeing the disk
of the rising sun intersected by an horizon level as that of the
ocean. During the night a heavy dew fell, a circumstance which we
did not experience within the Cordillera. The road proceeded for
some distance due east across a low swamp; then meeting the dry
plain, it turned to the north towards Mendoza. The distance is
two very long days' journey. Our first day's journey was called
fourteen leagues to Estacado, and the second seventeen to Luxan,
near Mendoza. The whole distance is over a level desert plain,
with not more than two or three houses. The sun was exceedingly
powerful, and the ride devoid of all interest. There is very
little water in this "traversia," and in our second day's journey
we found only one little pool. Little water flows from the
mountains, and it soon becomes absorbed by the dry and porous
soil; so that, although we travelled at the distance of only ten
or fifteen miles from the outer range of the Cordillera, we did
not cross a single stream. In many parts the ground was incrusted
with a saline efflorescence; hence we had the same salt-loving
plants which are common near Bahia Blanca. The landscape has a
uniform character from the Strait of Magellan, along the whole
eastern coast of Patagonia, to the Rio Colorado; and it appears
that the same kind of country extends inland from this river, in
a sweeping line as far as San Luis, and perhaps even farther
north. To the eastward of this curved line lies the basin of the
comparatively damp and green plains of Buenos Ayres. The sterile
plains of Mendoza and Patagonia consist of a bed of shingle, worn
smooth and accumulated by the waves of the sea; while the Pampas,
covered by thistles, clover, and grass, have been formed by the
ancient estuary mud of the Plata.

After our two days' tedious journey, it was refreshing to see in
the distance the rows of poplars and willows growing round the
village and river of Luxan. Shortly before we arrived at this
place we observed to the south a ragged cloud of a dark
reddish-brown colour. At first we thought that it was smoke from
some great fire on the plains; but we soon found that it was a
swarm of locusts. They were flying northward; and with the aid of
a light breeze, they overtook us at a rate of ten or fifteen
miles an hour. The main body filled the air from a height of
twenty feet to that, as it appeared, of two or three thousand
above the ground; "and the sound of their wings was as the sound
of chariots of many horses running to battle:" or rather, I
should say, like a strong breeze passing through the rigging of a
ship. The sky, seen through the advanced guard, appeared like a
mezzotinto engraving, but the main body was impervious to sight;
they were not, however, so thick together, but that they could
escape a stick waved backwards and forwards. When they alighted,
they were more numerous than the leaves in the field, and the
surface became reddish instead of being green: the swarm having
once alighted, the individuals flew from side to side in all
directions. Locusts are not an uncommon pest in this country:
already during this season several smaller swarms had come up
from the south, where, as apparently in all other parts of the
world, they are bred in the deserts. The poor cottagers in vain
attempted by lighting fires, by shouts, and by waving branches,
to avert the attack. This species of locust closely resembles,
and perhaps is identical with, the famous Gryllus migratorius of
the East.

We crossed the Luxan, which is a river of considerable size,
though its course towards the sea-coast is very imperfectly
known: it is even doubtful whether, in passing over the plains,
it is not evaporated and lost. We slept in the village of Luxan,
which is a small place surrounded by gardens, and forms the most
southern cultivated district in the Province of Mendoza; it is
five leagues south of the capital. At night I experienced an
attack (for it deserves no less a name) of the Benchuca, a
species of Reduvius, the great black bug of the Pampas. It is
most disgusting to feel soft wingless insects, about an inch
long, crawling over one's body. Before sucking they are quite
thin, but afterwards they become round and bloated with blood,
and in this state are easily crushed. One which I caught at
Iquique (for they are found in Chile and Peru) was very empty.
When placed on a table, and though surrounded by people, if a
finger was presented, the bold insect would immediately protrude
its sucker, make a charge, and if allowed, draw blood. No pain
was caused by the wound. It was curious to watch its body during
the act of sucking, as in less than ten minutes it changed from
being as flat as a wafer to a globular form. This one feast, for
which the benchuca was indebted to one of the officers, kept it
fat during four whole months; but, after the first fortnight, it
was quite ready to have another suck.

MARCH 27, 1835.

We rode on to Mendoza. The country was beautifully cultivated,
and resembled Chile. This neighbourhood is celebrated for its
fruit; and certainly nothing could appear more flourishing than
the vineyards and the orchards of figs, peaches, and olives. We
bought water-melons nearly twice as large as a man's head, most
deliciously cool and well-flavoured, for a halfpenny apiece; and
for the value of threepence, half a wheelbarrowful of peaches.
The cultivated and enclosed part of this province is very small;
there is little more than that which we passed through between
Luxan and the Capital. The land, as in Chile, owes its fertility
entirely to artificial irrigation; and it is really wonderful to
observe how extraordinarily productive a barren traversia is thus
rendered.

We stayed the ensuing day in Mendoza. The prosperity of the place
has much declined of late years. The inhabitants say "it is good
to live in, but very bad to grow rich in." The lower orders have
the lounging, reckless manners of the Gauchos of the Pampas; and
their dress, riding-gear, and habits of life, are nearly the
same. To my mind the town had a stupid, forlorn aspect. Neither
the boasted alameda, nor the scenery, is at all comparable with
that of Santiago; but to those who, coming from Buenos Ayres,
have just crossed the unvaried Pampas, the gardens and orchards
must appear delightful. Sir F. Head, speaking of the inhabitants,
says, "They eat their dinners, and it is so very hot, they go to
sleep--and could they do better?" I quite agree with Sir F. Head:
the happy doom of the Mendozinos is to eat, sleep and be idle.

MARCH 29, 1835.

We set out on our return to Chile by the Uspallata pass situated
north of Mendoza. We had to cross a long and most sterile
traversia of fifteen leagues. The soil in parts was absolutely
bare, in others covered by numberless dwarf cacti, armed with
formidable spines, and called by the inhabitants "little lions."
There were, also, a few low bushes. Although the plain is nearly
three thousand feet above the sea, the sun was very powerful; and
the heat, as well as the clouds of impalpable dust, rendered the
travelling extremely irksome. Our course during the day lay
nearly parallel to the Cordillera, but gradually approaching
them. Before sunset we entered one of the wide valleys, or rather
bays, which open on the plain: this soon narrowed into a ravine,
where a little higher up the house of Villa Vicencio is situated.
As we had ridden all day without a drop of water, both our mules
and selves were very thirsty, and we looked out anxiously for the
stream which flows down this valley. It was curious to observe
how gradually the water made its appearance: on the plain the
course was quite dry; by degrees it became a little damper; then
puddles of water appeared; these soon became connected; and at
Villa Vicencio there was a nice little rivulet.

MARCH 30, 1835.

The solitary hovel which bears the imposing name of Villa
Vicencio has been mentioned by every traveller who has crossed
the Andes. I stayed here and at some neighbouring mines during
the two succeeding days. The geology of the surrounding country
is very curious. The Uspallata range is separated from the main
Cordillera by a long narrow plain or basin, like those so often
mentioned in Chile, but higher, being six thousand feet above the
sea. This range has nearly the same geographical position with
respect to the Cordillera, which the gigantic Portillo line has,
but it is of a totally different origin: it consists of various
kinds of submarine lava, alternating with volcanic sandstones and
other remarkable sedimentary deposits; the whole having a very
close resemblance to some of the tertiary beds on the shores of
the Pacific. From this resemblance I expected to find silicified
wood, which is generally characteristic of those formations. I
was gratified in a very extraordinary manner. In the central part
of the range, at an elevation of about seven thousand feet, I
observed on a bare slope some snow-white projecting columns.
These were petrified trees, eleven being silicified, and from
thirty to forty converted into coarsely-crystallised white
calcareous spar. They were abruptly broken off, the upright
stumps projecting a few feet above the ground. The trunks
measured from three to five feet each in circumference. They
stood a little way apart from each other, but the whole formed
one group. Mr. Robert Brown has been kind enough to examine the
wood: he says it belongs to the fir tribe, partaking of the
character of the Araucarian family, but with some curious points
of affinity with the yew. The volcanic sandstone in which the
trees were embedded, and from the lower part of which they must
have sprung, had accumulated in successive thin layers around
their trunks; and the stone yet retained the impression of the
bark.

It required little geological practice to interpret the
marvellous story which this scene at once unfolded; though I
confess I was at first so much astonished that I could scarcely
believe the plainest evidence. I saw the spot where a cluster of
fine trees once waved their branches on the shores of the
Atlantic, when that ocean (now driven back 700 miles) came to the
foot of the Andes. I saw that they had sprung from a volcanic
soil which had been raised above the level of the sea, and that
subsequently this dry land, with its upright trees, had been let
down into the depths of the ocean. In these depths, the formerly
dry land was covered by sedimentary beds, and these again by
enormous streams of submarine lava--one such mass attaining the
thickness of a thousand feet; and these deluges of molten stone
and aqueous deposits five times alternately had been spread out.
The ocean which received such thick masses must have been
profoundly deep; but again the subterranean forces exerted
themselves, and I now beheld the bed of that ocean, forming a
chain of mountains more than seven thousand feet in height. Nor
had those antagonistic forces been dormant, which are always at
work wearing down the surface of the land; the great piles of
strata had been intersected by many wide valleys, and the trees,
now changed into silex, were exposed projecting from the volcanic
soil, now changed into rock, whence formerly, in a green and
budding state, they had raised their lofty heads. Now, all is
utterly irreclaimable and desert; even the lichen cannot adhere
to the stony casts of former trees. Vast, and scarcely
comprehensible as such changes must ever appear, yet they have
all occurred within a period, recent when compared with the
history of the Cordillera; and the Cordillera itself is
absolutely modern as compared with many of the fossiliferous
strata of Europe and America.

APRIL 1, 1835.

We crossed the Uspallata range, and at night slept at the
custom-house--the only inhabited spot on the plain. Shortly
before leaving the mountains, there was a very extraordinary
view; red, purple, green, and quite white sedimentary rocks,
alternating with black lavas, were broken up and thrown into all
kinds of disorder by masses of porphyry of every shade of colour,
from dark brown to the brightest lilac. It was the first view I
ever saw, which really resembled those pretty sections which
geologists make of the inside of the earth.

The next day we crossed the plain, and followed the course of the
same great mountain stream which flows by Luxan. Here it was a
furious torrent, quite impassable, and appeared larger than in
the low country, as was the case with the rivulet of Villa
Vicencio. On the evening of the succeeding day we reached the Rio
de las Vacas, which is considered the worst stream in the
Cordillera to cross. As all these rivers have a rapid and short
course, and are formed by the melting of the snow, the hour of
the day makes a considerable difference in their volume. In the
evening the stream is muddy and full, but about daybreak it
becomes clearer and much less impetuous. This we found to be the
case with the Rio Vacas, and in the morning we crossed it with
little difficulty.

The scenery thus far was very uninteresting, compared with that
of the Portillo pass. Little can be seen beyond the bare walls of
the one grand, flat-bottomed valley, which the road follows up to
the highest crest. The valley and the huge rocky mountains are
extremely barren: during the two previous nights the poor mules
had absolutely nothing to eat, for excepting a few low resinous
bushes, scarcely a plant can be seen. In the course of this day
we crossed some of the worst passes in the Cordillera, but their
danger has been much exaggerated. I was told that if I attempted
to pass on foot, my head would turn giddy, and that there was no
room to dismount; but I did not see a place where any one might
not have walked over backwards, or got off his mule on either
side. One of the bad passes, called las Animas (the Souls), I had
crossed, and did not find out till a day afterwards that it was
one of the awful dangers. No doubt there are many parts in which,
if the mule should stumble, the rider would be hurled down a
great precipice; but of this there is little chance. I daresay,
in the spring, the "laderas," or roads, which each year are
formed anew across the piles of fallen detritus, are very bad;
but from what I saw, I suspect the real danger is nothing. With
cargo-mules the case is rather different, for the loads project
so far, that the animals, occasionally running against each
other, or against a point of rock, lose their balance, and are
thrown down the precipices. In crossing the rivers I can well
believe that the difficulty may be very great: at this season
there was little trouble, but in the summer they must be very
hazardous. I can quite imagine, as Sir F. Head describes, the
different expressions of those who HAVE passed the gulf, and
those who ARE passing. I never heard of any man being drowned,
but with loaded mules it frequently happens. The arriero tells
you to show your mule the best line, and then allow her to cross
as she likes: the cargo-mule takes a bad line, and is often lost.

APRIL 4, 1835.

From the Rio de las Vacas to the Puente del Incas, half a day's
journey. As there was pasture for the mules, and geology for me,
we bivouacked here for the night. When one hears of a natural
Bridge, one pictures to oneself some deep and narrow ravine,
across which a bold mass of rock has fallen; or a great arch
hollowed out like the vault of a cavern. Instead of this, the
Incas Bridge consists of a crust of stratified shingle cemented
together by the deposits of the neighbouring hot springs. It
appears as if the stream had scooped out a channel on one side,
leaving an overhanging ledge, which was met by earth and stones
falling down from the opposite cliff. Certainly an oblique
junction, as would happen in such a case, was very distinct on
one side. The Bridge of the Incas is by no means worthy of the
great monarchs whose name it bears.

APRIL 5, 1835.

We had a long day's ride across the central ridge, from the Incas
Bridge to the Ojos del Agua, which are situated near the lowest
casucha on the Chilian side. These casuchas are round little
towers, with steps outside to reach the floor, which is raised
some feet above the ground on account of the snow-drifts. They
are eight in number, and under the Spanish government were kept
during the winter well stored with food and charcoal, and each
courier had a master-key. Now they only answer the purpose of
caves, or rather dungeons. Seated on some little eminence, they
are not, however, ill suited to the surrounding scene of
desolation. The zigzag ascent of the Cumbre, or the partition of
the waters, was very steep and tedious; its height, according to
Mr. Pentland, is 12,454 feet. The road did not pass over any
perpetual snow, although there were patches of it on both hands.
The wind on the summit was exceedingly cold, but it was
impossible not to stop for a few minutes to admire, again and
again, the colour of the heavens, and the brilliant transparency
of the atmosphere. The scenery was grand: to the westward there
was a fine chaos of mountains, divided by profound ravines. Some
snow generally falls before this period of the season, and it has
even happened that the Cordillera have been finally closed by
this time. But we were most fortunate. The sky, by night and by
day, was cloudless, excepting a few round little masses of
vapour, that floated over the highest pinnacles. I have often
seen these islets in the sky, marking the position of the
Cordillera, when the far-distant mountains have been hidden
beneath the horizon.

APRIL 6, 1835.

In the morning we found some thief had stolen one of our mules,
and the bell of the madrina. We therefore rode only two or three
miles down the valley, and stayed there the ensuing day in hopes
of recovering the mule, which the arriero thought had been hidden
in some ravine. The scenery in this part had assumed a Chilian
character: the lower sides of the mountains, dotted over with the
pale evergreen Quillay tree, and with the great chandelier-like
cactus, are certainly more to be admired than the bare eastern
valleys; but I cannot quite agree with the admiration expressed
by some travellers. The extreme pleasure, I suspect, is chiefly
owing to the prospect of a good fire and of a good supper, after
escaping from the cold regions above: and I am sure I most
heartily participated in these feelings.

APRIL 8, 1835.

We left the valley of the Aconcagua, by which we had descended,
and reached in the evening a cottage near the Villa de St. Rosa.
The fertility of the plain was delightful: the autumn being
advanced, the leaves of many of the fruit-trees were falling; and
of the labourers,--some were busy in drying figs and peaches on
the roofs of their cottages, while others were gathering the
grapes from the vineyards. It was a pretty scene; but I missed
that pensive stillness which makes the autumn in England indeed
the evening of the year. On the 10th we reached Santiago, where I
received a very kind and hospitable reception from Mr.
Caldcleugh. My excursion only cost me twenty-four days, and never
did I more deeply enjoy an equal space of time. A few days
afterwards I returned to Mr. Corfield's house at Valparaiso.


CHAPTER XVI.

(PLATE 76.  LIMA AND SAN LORENZO.)

Coast-road to Coquimbo.
Great loads carried by the miners.
Coquimbo.
Earthquake.
Step-formed terraces.
Absence of recent deposits.
Contemporaneousness of the Tertiary formations.
Excursion up the valley.
Road to Guasco.
Deserts.
Valley of Copiap.
Rain and Earthquakes.
Hydrophobia.
The Despoblado.
Indian ruins.
Probable change of climate.
River-bed arched by an earthquake.
Cold gales of wind.
Noises from a hill.
Iquique.
Salt alluvium.
Nitrate of soda.
Lima.
Unhealthy country.
Ruins of Callao, overthrown by an earthquake.
Recent subsidence.
Elevated shells on San Lorenzo, their decomposition.
Plain with embedded shells and fragments of pottery.
Antiquity of the Indian Race.

NORTHERN CHILE AND PERU.

APRIL 27, 1835.

I set out on a journey to Coquimbo, and thence through Guasco to
Copiap, where Captain Fitz Roy kindly offered to pick me up in
the "Beagle." The distance in a straight line along the shore
northward is only 420 miles; but my mode of travelling made it a
very long journey. I bought four horses and two mules, the latter
carrying the luggage on alternate days. The six animals together
only cost the value of twenty-five pounds sterling, and at
Copiap I sold them again for twenty-three. We travelled in the
same independent manner as before, cooking our own meals, and
sleeping in the open air. As we rode towards the Vio del Mar, I
took a farewell view of Valparaiso, and admired its picturesque
appearance. For geological purposes I made a detour from the high
road to the foot of the Bell of Quillota. We passed through an
alluvial district rich in gold, to the neighbourhood of Limache,
where we slept. Washing for gold supports the inhabitants of
numerous hovels, scattered along the sides of each little
rivulet; but, like all those whose gains are uncertain, they are
unthrifty in their habits, and consequently poor.

APRIL 28, 1835.

In the afternoon we arrived at a cottage at the foot of the Bell
mountain. The inhabitants were freeholders, which is not very
usual in Chile. They supported themselves on the produce of a
garden and a little field, but were very poor. Capital is here so
deficient that the people are obliged to sell their green corn
while standing in the field, in order to buy necessaries for the
ensuing year. Wheat in consequence was dearer in the very
district of its production than at Valparaiso, where the
contractors live. The next day we joined the main road to
Coquimbo. At night there was a very light shower of rain: this
was the first drop that had fallen since the heavy rain of
September 11th and 12th, which detained me a prisoner at the
Baths of Cauquenes. The interval was seven and a half months; but
the rain this year in Chile was rather later than usual. The
distant Andes were now covered by a thick mass of snow, and were
a glorious sight.

MAY 2, 1835.

The road continued to follow the coast at no great distance from
the sea. The few trees and bushes which are common in central
Chile decreased rapidly in numbers, and were replaced by a tall
plant, something like a yucca in appearance. The surface of the
country, on a small scale, was singularly broken and irregular;
abrupt little peaks of rock rising out of small plains or basins.
The indented coast and the bottom of the neighbouring sea,
studded with breakers, would, if converted into dry land, present
similar forms; and such a conversion without doubt has taken
place in the part over which we rode.

MAY 3, 1835.

Quilimari to Conchalee. The country became more and more barren.
In the valleys there was scarcely sufficient water for any
irrigation; and the intermediate land was quite bare, not
supporting even goats. In the spring, after the winter showers, a
thin pasture rapidly springs up, and cattle are then driven down
from the Cordillera to graze for a short time. It is curious to
observe how the seeds of the grass and other plants seem to
accommodate themselves, as if by an acquired habit, to the
quantity of rain which falls upon different parts of this coast.
One shower far northward at Copiap produces as great an effect
on the vegetation, as two at Guasco, and three or four in this
district. At Valparaiso a winter so dry as greatly to injure the
pasture, would at Guasco produce the most unusual abundance.
Proceeding northward, the quantity of rain does not appear to
decrease in strict proportion to the latitude. At Conchalee,
which is only 67 miles north of Valparaiso, rain is not expected
till the end of May; whereas at Valparaiso some generally falls
early in April: the annual quantity is likewise small in
proportion to the lateness of the season at which it commences.

MAY 4, 1835.

Finding the coast-road devoid of interest of any kind, we turned
inland towards the mining district and valley of Illapel. This
valley, like every other in Chile, is level, broad, and very
fertile: it is bordered on each side, either by cliffs of
stratified shingle, or by bare rocky mountains. Above the
straight line of the uppermost irrigating ditch, all is brown as
on a high-road; while all below is of as bright a green as
verdigris, from the beds of alfarfa, a kind of clover. We
proceeded to Los Hornos, another mining district, where the
principal hill was drilled with holes, like a great ants'-nest.
The Chilian miners are a peculiar race of men in their habits.
Living for weeks together in the most desolate spots, when they
descend to the villages on feast-days there is no excess of
extravagance into which they do not run. They sometimes gain a
considerable sum, and then, like sailors with prize-money, they
try how soon they can contrive to squander it. They drink
excessively, buy quantities of clothes, and in a few days return
penniless to their miserable abodes, there to work harder than
beasts of burden. This thoughtlessness, as with sailors, is
evidently the result of a similar manner of life. Their daily
food is found them, and they acquire no habits of carefulness;
moreover, temptation and the means of yielding to it are placed
in their power at the same time. On the other hand, in Cornwall,
and some other parts of England, where the system of selling part
of the vein is followed, the miners, from being obliged to act
and think for themselves, are a singularly intelligent and
well-conducted set of men.

The dress of the Chilian miner is peculiar and rather
picturesque. He wears a very long shirt of some dark-coloured
baize, with a leathern apron; the whole being fastened round his
waist by a bright-coloured sash. His trousers are very broad, and
his small cap of scarlet cloth is made to fit the head closely.
We met a party of these miners in full costume, carrying the body
of one of their companions to be buried. They marched at a very
quick trot, four men supporting the corpse. One set having run as
hard as they could for about two hundred yards, were relieved by
four others, who had previously dashed on ahead on horseback.
Thus they proceeded, encouraging each other by wild cries:
altogether the scene formed a most strange funeral.

We continued travelling northward in a zigzag line; sometimes
stopping a day to geologise. The country was so thinly inhabited,
and the track so obscure, that we often had difficulty in finding
our way. On the 12th I stayed at some mines. The ore in this case
was not considered particularly good, but from being abundant it
was supposed the mine would sell for about thirty or forty
thousand dollars (that is, 6000 or 8000 pounds sterling); yet it
had been bought by one of the English Associations for an ounce
of gold (three pounds eight shillings). The ore is yellow
pyrites, which, as I have already remarked, before the arrival of
the English was not supposed to contain a particle of copper. On
a scale of profits nearly as great as in the above instance,
piles of cinders, abounding with minute globules of metallic
copper, were purchased; yet with these advantages, the mining
associations, as is well known, contrived to lose immense sums of
money. The folly of the greater number of the commissioners and
shareholders amounted to infatuation;--a thousand pounds per
annum given in some cases to entertain the Chilian authorities;
libraries of well-bound geological books; miners brought out for
particular metals, as tin, which are not found in Chile;
contracts to supply the miners with milk, in parts where there
are no cows; machinery, where it could not possibly be used; and
a hundred similar arrangements, bore witness to our absurdity,
and to this day afford amusement to the natives. Yet there can be
no doubt, that the same capital well employed in these mines
would have yielded an immense return: a confidential man of
business, a practical miner and assayer, would have been all that
was required.

Captain Head has described the wonderful load which the "Apires,"
truly beasts of burden, carry up from the deepest mines. I
confess I thought the account exaggerated: so that I was glad to
take an opportunity of weighing one of the loads, which I picked
out by hazard. It required considerable exertion on my part, when
standing directly over it, to lift it from the ground. The load
was considered under weight when found to be 197 pounds. The
apire had carried this up eighty perpendicular yards,--part of
the way by a steep passage, but the greater part up notched
poles, placed in a zigzag line up the shaft. According to the
general regulation, the apire is not allowed to halt for breath,
except the mine is six hundred feet deep. The average load is
considered as rather more than 200 pounds, and I have been
assured that one of 300 pounds (twenty-two stone and a half) by
way of a trial has been brought up from the deepest mine! At this
time the apires were bringing up the usual load twelve times in
the day; that is 2400 pounds from eighty yards deep; and they
were employed in the intervals in breaking and picking ore.

These men, excepting from accidents, are healthy, and appear
cheerful. Their bodies are not very muscular. They rarely eat
meat once a week, and never oftener, and then only the hard dry
charqui. Although with a knowledge that the labour was voluntary,
it was nevertheless quite revolting to see the state in which
they reached the mouth of the mine; their bodies bent forward,
leaning with their arms on the steps, their legs bowed, their
muscles quivering, the perspiration streaming from their faces
over their breasts, their nostrils distended, the corners of
their mouth forcibly drawn back, and the expulsion of their
breath most laborious. Each time they draw their breath they
utter an articulate cry of "ay-ay," which ends in a sound rising
from deep in the chest, but shrill like the note of a fife. After
staggering to the pile of ore, they emptied the "carpacho;" in
two or three seconds recovering their breath, they wiped the
sweat from their brows, and apparently quite fresh descended the
mine again at a quick pace. This appears to me a wonderful
instance of the amount of labour which habit, for it can be
nothing else, will enable a man to endure.

In the evening, talking with the mayor-domo of these mines about
the number of foreigners now scattered over the whole country, he
told me that, though quite a young man, he remembers when he was
a boy at school at Coquimbo, a holiday being given to see the
captain of an English ship, who was brought to the city to speak
to the governor. He believes that nothing would have induced any
boy in the school, himself included, to have gone close to the
Englishman; so deeply had they been impressed with an idea of the
heresy, contamination, and evil to be derived from contact with
such a person. To this day they relate the atrocious actions of
the bucaniers; and especially of one man, who took away the
figure of the Virgin Mary, and returned the year after for that
of St. Joseph, saying it was a pity the lady should not have a
husband. I heard also of an old lady who, at a dinner at
Coquimbo, remarked how wonderfully strange it was that she should
have lived to dine in the same room with an Englishman; for she
remembered as a girl, that twice, at the mere cry of "Los
Ingleses," every soul, carrying what valuables they could, had
taken to the mountains.

MAY 14, 1835.

We reached Coquimbo, where we stayed a few days. The town is
remarkable for nothing but its extreme quietness. It is said to
contain from 6000 to 8000 inhabitants. On the morning of the 17th
it rained lightly, the first time this year, for about five
hours. The farmers, who plant corn near the sea-coast where the
atmosphere is more humid, taking advantage of this shower, would
break up the ground; after a second they would put the seed in;
and if a third shower should fall, they would reap a good harvest
in the spring. It was interesting to watch the effect of this
trifling amount of moisture. Twelve hours afterwards the ground
appeared as dry as ever; yet after an interval of ten days all
the hills were faintly tinged with green patches; the grass being
sparingly scattered in hair-like fibres a full inch in length.
Before this shower every part of the surface was bare as on a
high-road.

(PLATE 77.  COQUIMBO, CHILE.)

In the evening, Captain Fitz Roy and myself were dining with Mr.
Edwards, an English resident well known for his hospitality by
all who have visited Coquimbo, when a sharp earthquake happened.
I heard the forecoming rumble, but from the screams of the
ladies, the running of the servants, and the rush of several of
the gentlemen to the doorway, I could not distinguish the motion.
Some of the women afterwards were crying with terror, and one
gentleman said he should not be able to sleep all night, or if he
did, it would only be to dream of falling houses. The father of
this person had lately lost all his property at Talcahuano, and
he himself had only just escaped a falling roof at Valparaiso in
1822. He mentioned a curious coincidence which then happened: he
was playing at cards, when a German, one of the party, got up,
and said he would never sit in a room in these countries with the
door shut, as, owing to his having done so, he had nearly lost
his life at Copiap. Accordingly he opened the door; and no
sooner had he done this, than he cried out, "Here it comes
again!" and the famous shock commenced. The whole party escaped.
The danger in an earthquake is not from the time lost in opening
the door, but from the chance of its becoming jammed by the
movement of the walls.

It is impossible to be much surprised at the fear which natives
and old residents, though some of them known to be men of great
command of mind, so generally experience during earthquakes. I
think, however, this excess of panic may be partly attributed to
a want of habit in governing their fear, as it is not a feeling
they are ashamed of. Indeed, the natives do not like to see a
person indifferent. I heard of two Englishmen who, sleeping in
the open air during a smart shock, knowing that there was no
danger, did not rise. The natives cried out indignantly, "Look at
those heretics, they do not even get out of their beds!"

I spent some days in examining the step-formed terraces of
shingle, first noticed by Captain B. Hall, and believed by Mr.
Lyell to have been formed by the sea during the gradual rising of
the land. This certainly is the true explanation, for I found
numerous shells of existing species on these terraces. Five
narrow, gently sloping, fringe-like terraces rise one behind the
other, and where best developed are formed of shingle: they front
the bay, and sweep up both sides of the valley. At Guasco, north
of Coquimbo, the phenomenon is displayed on a much grander scale,
so as to strike with surprise even some of the inhabitants. The
terraces are there much broader, and may be called plains, in
some parts there are six of them, but generally only five; they
run up the valley for thirty-seven miles from the coast. These
step-formed terraces or fringes closely resemble those in the
valley of S. Cruz, and, except in being on a smaller scale, those
great ones along the whole coast-line of Patagonia. They have
undoubtedly been formed by the denuding power of the sea, during
long periods of rest in the gradual elevation of the continent.

Shells of many existing species not only lie on the surface of
the terraces at Coquimbo (to a height of 250 feet), but are
embedded in a friable calcareous rock, which in some places is as
much as between twenty and thirty feet in thickness, but is of
little extent. These modern beds rest on an ancient tertiary
formation containing shells, apparently all extinct. Although I
examined so many hundred miles of coast on the Pacific, as well
as Atlantic side of the continent, I found no regular strata
containing sea-shells of recent species, excepting at this place,
and at a few points northward on the road to Guasco. This fact
appears to me highly remarkable; for the explanation generally
given by geologists, of the absence in any district of stratified
fossiliferous deposits of a given period, namely, that the
surface then existed as dry land, is not here applicable; for we
know from the shells strewed on the surface and embedded in loose
sand or mould, that the land for thousands of miles along both
coasts has lately been submerged. The explanation, no doubt, must
be sought in the fact, that the whole southern part of the
continent has been for a long time slowly rising; and therefore
that all matter deposited along shore in shallow water must have
been soon brought up and slowly exposed to the wearing action of
the sea-beach; and it is only in comparatively shallow water that
the greater number of marine organic beings can flourish, and in
such water it is obviously impossible that strata of any great
thickness can accumulate. To show the vast power of the wearing
action of sea-beaches, we need only appeal to the great cliffs
along the present coast of Patagonia, and to the escarpments or
ancient sea-cliffs at different levels, one above another, on
that same line of coast.

The old underlying tertiary formation at Coquimbo appears to be
of about the same age with several deposits on the coast of Chile
(of which that of Navedad is the principal one), and with the
great formation of Patagonia. Both at Navedad and in Patagonia
there is evidence, that since the shells (a list of which has
been seen by Professor E. Forbes) there intombed were living,
there has been a subsidence of several hundred feet, as well as
an ensuing elevation. It may naturally be asked how it comes that
although no extensive fossiliferous deposits of the recent
period, nor of any period intermediate between it and the ancient
tertiary epoch, have been preserved on either side of the
continent, yet that at this ancient tertiary epoch, sedimentary
matter containing fossil remains should have been deposited and
preserved at different points in north and south lines, over a
space of 1100 miles on the shores of the Pacific, and of at least
1350 miles on the shores of the Atlantic, and in an east and west
line of 700 miles across the widest part of the continent? I
believe the explanation is not difficult, and that it is perhaps
applicable to nearly analogous facts observed in other quarters
of the world. Considering the enormous power of denudation which
the sea possesses, as shown by numberless facts, it is not
probable that a sedimentary deposit, when being upraised, could
pass through the ordeal of the beach, so as to be preserved in
sufficient masses to last to a distant period, without it were
originally of wide extent and of considerable thickness: now it
is impossible on a moderately shallow bottom, which alone is
favourable to most living creatures, that a thick and widely
extended covering of sediment could be spread out, without the
bottom sank down to receive the successive layers. This seems to
have actually taken place at about the same period in southern
Patagonia and Chile, though these places are a thousand miles
apart. Hence, if prolonged movements of approximately
contemporaneous subsidence are generally widely extensive, as I
am strongly inclined to believe from my examination of the Coral
Reefs of the great oceans--or if, confining our view to South
America, the subsiding movements have been coextensive with those
of elevation, by which, within the same period of existing
shells, the shores of Peru, Chile, Tierra del Fuego, Patagonia,
and La Plata have been upraised--then we can see that at the same
time, at far distant points, circumstances would have been
favourable to the formation of fossiliferous deposits, of wide
extent and of considerable thickness; and such deposits,
consequently, would have a good chance of resisting the wear and
tear of successive beach-lines, and of lasting to a future epoch.

MAY 21, 1835.

I set out in company with Don Jos Edwards to the silver-mine of
Arqueros, and thence up the valley of Coquimbo. Passing through a
mountainous country, we reached by nightfall the mines belonging
to Mr. Edwards. I enjoyed my night's rest here from a reason
which will not be fully appreciated in England, namely, the
absence of fleas! The rooms in Coquimbo swarm with them; but they
will not live here at the height of only three or four thousand
feet: it can scarcely be the trifling diminution of temperature,
but some other cause which destroys these troublesome insects at
this place. The mines are now in a bad state, though they
formerly yielded about 2000 pounds in weight of silver a year. It
has been said that "a person with a copper-mine will gain; with
silver he may gain; but with gold he is sure to lose." This is
not true: all the large Chilian fortunes have been made by mines
of the more precious metals. A short time since an English
physician returned to England from Copiap, taking with him the
profits of one share in a silver-mine, which amounted to about
24,000 pounds sterling. No doubt a copper-mine with care is a
sure game, whereas the other is gambling, or rather taking a
ticket in a lottery. The owners lose great quantities of rich
ores; for no precautions can prevent robberies. I heard of a
gentleman laying a bet with another, that one of his men should
rob him before his face. The ore when brought out of the mine is
broken into pieces, and the useless stone thrown on one side. A
couple of the miners who were thus employed, pitched, as if by
accident, two fragments away at the same moment, and then cried
out for a joke "Let us see which rolls furthest." The owner, who
was standing by, bet a cigar with his friend on the race. The
miner by this means watched the very point amongst the rubbish
where the stone lay. In the evening he picked it up and carried
it to his master, showing him a rich mass of silver-ore, and
saying, "This was the stone on which you won a cigar by its
rolling so far."

MAY 23, 1835.

We descended into the fertile valley of Coquimbo, and followed it
till we reached an Hacienda belonging to a relation of Don Jos,
where we stayed the next day. I then rode one day's journey
farther, to see what were declared to be some petrified shells
and beans, which latter turned out to be small quartz pebbles. We
passed through several small villages; and the valley was
beautifully cultivated, and the whole scenery very grand. We were
here near the main Cordillera, and the surrounding hills were
lofty. In all parts of Northern Chile fruit trees produce much
more abundantly at a considerable height near the Andes than in
the lower country. The figs and grapes of this district are
famous for their excellence, and are cultivated to a great
extent. This valley is, perhaps, the most productive one north of
Quillota. I believe it contains, including Coquimbo, 25,000
inhabitants. The next day I returned to the Hacienda, and thence,
together with Don Jos, to Coquimbo.

JUNE 2, 1835.

We set out for the valley of Guasco, following the coast-road,
which was considered rather less desert than the other. Our first
day's ride was to a solitary house, called Yerba Buena, where
there was pasture for our horses. The shower mentioned as having
fallen a fortnight ago, only reached about half-way to Guasco; we
had, therefore, in the first part of our journey a most faint
tinge of green, which soon faded quite away. Even where
brightest, it was scarcely sufficient to remind one of the fresh
turf and budding flowers of the spring of other countries. While
travelling through these deserts one feels like a prisoner shut
up in a gloomy court, who longs to see something green and to
smell a moist atmosphere.

JUNE 3, 1835.

Yerba Buena to Carizal. During the first part of the day we
crossed a mountainous rocky desert, and afterwards a long deep
sandy plain, strewed with broken sea-shells. There was very
little water, and that little saline: the whole country, from the
coast to the Cordillera, is an uninhabited desert. I saw traces
only of one living animal in abundance, namely, the shells of a
Bulimus, which were collected together in extraordinary numbers
on the driest spots. In the spring one humble little plant sends
out a few leaves, and on these the snails feed. As they are seen
only very early in the morning, when the ground is slightly damp
with dew, the Guasos believe that they are bred from it. I have
observed in other places that extremely dry and sterile
districts, where the soil is calcareous, are extraordinarily
favourable to land-shells. At Carizal there were a few cottages,
some brackish water, and a trace of cultivation: but it was with
difficulty that we purchased a little corn and straw for our
horses.

JUNE 4, 1835.

Carizal to Sauce. We continued to ride over desert plains,
tenanted by large herds of guanaco. We crossed also the valley of
Chaeral; which, although the most fertile one between Guasco and
Coquimbo, is very narrow, and produces so little pasture that we
could not purchase any for our horses. At Sauce we found a very
civil old gentleman, superintending a copper-smelting furnace. As
an especial favour, he allowed me to purchase at a high price an
armful of dirty straw, which was all the poor horses had for
supper after their long day's journey. Few smelting-furnaces are
now at work in any part of Chile; it is found more profitable, on
account of the extreme scarcity of firewood, and from the Chilian
method of reduction being so unskilful, to ship the ore for
Swansea. The next day we crossed some mountains to Freyrina, in
the valley of Guasco. During each day's ride farther northward,
the vegetation became more and more scanty; even the great
chandelier-like cactus was here replaced by a different and much
smaller species. During the winter months, both in Northern Chile
and in Peru, a uniform bank of clouds hangs, at no great height,
over the Pacific. From the mountains we had a very striking view
of this white and brilliant aerial-field, which sent arms up the
valleys, leaving islands and promontories in the same manner as
the sea does in the Chonos archipelago and in Tierra del Fuego.

We stayed two days at Freyrina. In the valley of Guasco there are
four small towns. At the mouth there is the port, a spot entirely
desert, and without any water in the immediate neighbourhood.
Five leagues higher up stands Freyrina, a long straggling
village, with decent whitewashed houses. Again, ten leagues
further up Ballenar is situated, and above this Guasco Alto, a
horticultural village, famous for its dried fruit. On a clear day
the view up the valley is very fine; the straight opening
terminates in the far-distant snowy Cordillera; on each side an
infinity of crossing lines are blended together in a beautiful
haze. The foreground is singular from the number of parallel and
step-formed terraces; and the included strip of green valley,
with its willow-bushes, is contrasted on both hands with the
naked hills. That the surrounding country was most barren will be
readily believed, when it is known that a shower of rain had not
fallen during the last thirteen months. The inhabitants heard
with the greatest envy of the rain at Coquimbo; from the
appearance of the sky they had hopes of equally good fortune,
which, a fortnight afterwards, were realised. I was at Copiap at
the time; and there the people, with equal envy, talked of the
abundant rain at Guasco. After two or three very dry years,
perhaps with not more than one shower during the whole time, a
rainy year generally follows; and this does more harm than even
the drought. The rivers swell, and cover with gravel and sand the
narrow strips of ground which alone are fit for cultivation. The
floods also injure the irrigating ditches. Great devastation had
thus been caused three years ago.

JUNE 8, 1835.

We rode on to Ballenar, which takes its name from Ballenagh in
Ireland, the birthplace of the family of O'Higgins, who, under
the Spanish government, were presidents and generals in Chile. As
the rocky mountains on each hand were concealed by clouds, the
terrace-like plains gave to the valley an appearance like that of
Santa Cruz in Patagonia. After spending one day at Ballenar I set
out, on the 10th, for the upper part of the valley of Copiap. We
rode all day over an uninteresting country. I am tired of
repeating the epithets barren and sterile. These words, however,
as commonly used, are comparative; I have always applied them to
the plains of Patagonia, which can boast of spiny bushes and some
tufts of grass; and this is absolute fertility, as compared with
Northern Chile. Here again, there are not many spaces of two
hundred yards square, where some little bush, cactus or lichen,
may not be discovered by careful examination; and in the soil
seeds lie dormant ready to spring up during the first rainy
winter. In Peru real deserts occur over wide tracts of country.
In the evening we arrived at a valley in which the bed of the
streamlet was damp: following it up, we came to tolerably good
water. During the night the stream, from not being evaporated and
absorbed so quickly, flows a league lower down than during the
day. Sticks were plentiful for firewood, so that it was a good
place of bivouac for us; but for the poor animals there was not a
mouthful to eat.

JUNE 11, 1835.

We rode without stopping for twelve hours till we reached an old
smelting-furnace, where there was water and firewood; but our
horses again had nothing to eat, being shut up in an old
courtyard. The line of road was hilly, and the distant views
interesting from the varied colours of the bare mountains. It was
almost a pity to see the sun shining constantly over so useless a
country; such splendid weather ought to have brightened fields
and pretty gardens. The next day we reached the valley of
Copiap. I was heartily glad of it; for the whole journey was a
continued source of anxiety; it was most disagreeable to hear,
whilst eating our own suppers, our horses gnawing the posts to
which they were tied, and to have no means of relieving their
hunger. To all appearance, however, the animals were quite fresh;
and no one could have told that they had eaten nothing for the
last fifty-five hours.

I had a letter of introduction to Mr. Bingley, who received me
very kindly at the Hacienda of Potrero Seco. This estate is
between twenty and thirty miles long, but very narrow, being
generally only two fields wide, one on each side the river. In
some parts the estate is of no width, that is to say, the land
cannot be irrigated, and therefore is valueless, like the
surrounding rocky desert. The small quantity of cultivated land
in the whole line of valley does not so much depend on
inequalities of level, and consequent unfitness for irrigation,
as on the small supply of water. The river this year was
remarkably full: here, high up the valley, it reached to the
horse's belly, and was about fifteen yards wide, and rapid; lower
down it becomes smaller and smaller, and is generally quite lost,
as happened during one period of thirty years, so that not a drop
entered the sea. The inhabitants watch a storm over the
Cordillera with great interest; as one good fall of snow provides
them with water for the ensuing year. This is of infinitely more
consequence than rain in the lower country. Rain, as often as it
falls, which is about once in every two or three years, is a
great advantage, because the cattle and mules can for some time
afterwards find a little pasture in the mountains. But without
snow on the Andes, desolation extends throughout the valley. It
is on record that three times nearly all the inhabitants have
been obliged to emigrate to the south. This year there was plenty
of water, and every man irrigated his ground as much as he chose;
but it has frequently been necessary to post soldiers at the
sluices, to see that each estate took only its proper allowance
during so many hours in the week. The valley is said to contain
12,000 souls, but its produce is sufficient only for three months
in the year; the rest of the supply being drawn from Valparaiso
and the south. Before the discovery of the famous silver-mines of
Chanuncillo, Copiap was in a rapid state of decay; but now it is
in a very thriving condition; and the town, which was completely
overthrown by an earthquake, has been rebuilt.

The valley of Copiap, forming a mere ribbon of green in a
desert, runs in a very southerly direction; so that it is of
considerable length to its source in the Cordillera. The valleys
of Guasco and Copiap may both be considered as long narrow
islands, separated from the rest of Chile by deserts of rock
instead of by salt water. Northward of these, there is one other
very miserable valley, called Paposo, which contains about two
hundred souls; and then there extends the real desert of
Atacama--a barrier far worse than the most turbulent ocean. After
staying a few days at Potrero Seco, I proceeded up the valley to
the house of Don Benito Cruz, to whom I had a letter of
introduction. I found him most hospitable; indeed it is
impossible to bear too strong testimony to the kindness with
which travellers are received in almost every part of South
America. The next day I hired some mules to take me by the ravine
of Jolquera into the central Cordillera. On the second night the
weather seemed to foretell a storm of snow or rain, and whilst
lying in our beds we felt a trifling shock of an earthquake.

The connexion between earthquakes and the weather has been often
disputed: it appears to me to be a point of great interest, which
is little understood. Humboldt has remarked in one part of the
"Personal Narrative," that it would be difficult for any person
who had long resided in New Andalusia, or in Lower Peru, to deny
that there exists some connection between these phenomena: in
another part, however, he seems to think the connexion fanciful.
(16/1. Volume 4 page 11 and volume 2 page 217. For the remarks on
Guayaquil see Silliman's "Journal" volume 24 page 384. For those
on Tacna by Mr. Hamilton see "Transactions of British
Association" 1840. For those on Coseguina see Mr. Caldcleugh in
"Philosophical Transactions" 1835. In the former edition I
collected several references on the coincidences between sudden
falls in the barometer and earthquakes; and between earthquakes
and meteors.) At Guayaquil it is said that a heavy shower in the
dry season is invariably followed by an earthquake. In Northern
Chile, from the extreme infrequency of rain, or even of weather
foreboding rain, the probability of accidental coincidences
becomes very small; yet the inhabitants are here most firmly
convinced of some connexion between the state of the atmosphere
and of the trembling of the ground: I was much struck by this
when mentioning to some people at Copiap that there had been a
sharp shock at Coquimbo: they immediately cried out, "How
fortunate! there will be plenty of pasture there this year." To
their minds an earthquake foretold rain as surely as rain
foretold abundant pasture. Certainly it did so happen that on the
very day of the earthquake that shower of rain fell which I have
described as in ten days' time producing a thin sprinkling of
grass. At other times rain has followed earthquakes at a period
of the year when it is a far greater prodigy than the earthquake
itself: this happened after the shock of November 1822, and again
in 1829 at Valparaiso; also after that of September 1833, at
Tacna. A person must be somewhat habituated to the climate of
these countries to perceive the extreme improbability of rain
falling at such seasons, except as a consequence of some law
quite unconnected with the ordinary course of the weather. In the
cases of great volcanic eruptions, as that of Coseguina, where
torrents of rain fell at a time of the year most unusual for it,
and "almost unprecedented in Central America," it is not
difficult to understand that the volumes of vapour and clouds of
ashes might have disturbed the atmospheric equilibrium. Humboldt
extends this view to the case of earthquakes unaccompanied by
eruptions; but I can hardly conceive it possible that the small
quantity of aeriform fluids which then escape from the fissured
ground can produce such remarkable effects. There appears much
probability in the view first proposed by Mr. P. Scrope, that
when the barometer is low, and when rain might naturally be
expected to fall, the diminished pressure of the atmosphere over
a wide extent of country might well determine the precise day on
which the earth, already stretched to the utmost by the
subterranean forces, should yield, crack, and consequently
tremble. It is, however, doubtful how far this idea will explain
the circumstance of torrents of rain falling in the dry season
during several days, after an earthquake unaccompanied by an
eruption; such cases seem to bespeak some more intimate connexion
between the atmospheric and subterranean regions.

Finding little of interest in this part of the ravine, we
retraced our steps to the house of Don Benito, where I stayed two
days collecting fossil shells and wood. Great prostrate
silicified trunks of trees, embedded in a conglomerate, were
extraordinarily numerous. I measured one which was fifteen feet
in circumference: how surprising it is that every atom of the
woody matter in this great cylinder should have been removed and
replaced by silex so perfectly that each vessel and pore is
preserved! These trees flourished at about the period of our
lower chalk; they all belonged to the fir-tribe. It was amusing
to hear the inhabitants discussing the nature of the fossil
shells which I collected, almost in the same terms as were used a
century ago in Europe,--namely, whether or not they had been thus
"born by nature." My geological examination of the country
generally created a good deal of surprise amongst the Chilenos:
it was long before they could be convinced that I was not hunting
for mines. This was sometimes troublesome: I found the most ready
way of explaining my employment was to ask them how it was that
they themselves were not curious concerning earthquakes and
volcanos?--why some springs were hot and others cold?--why there
were mountains in Chile, and not a hill in La Plata? These bare
questions at once satisfied and silenced the greater number;
some, however (like a few in England who are a century
behindhand), thought that all such inquiries were useless and
impious; and that it was quite sufficient that God had thus made
the mountains.

An order had recently been issued that all stray dogs should be
killed, and we saw many lying dead on the road. A great number
had lately gone mad, and several men had been bitten and had died
in consequence. On several occasions hydrophobia has prevailed in
this valley. It is remarkable thus to find so strange and
dreadful a disease appearing time after time in the same isolated
spot. It has been remarked that certain villages in England are
in like manner much more subject to this visitation than others.
Dr. Unane states that hydrophobia was first known in South
America in 1803: this statement is corroborated by Azara and
Ulloa having never heard of it in their time. Dr. Unane says
that it broke out in Central America, and slowly travelled
southward. It reached Arequipa in 1807; and it is said that some
men there, who had not been bitten, were affected, as were some
negroes, who had eaten a bullock which had died of hydrophobia.
At Ica forty-two people thus miserably perished. The disease came
on between twelve and ninety days after the bite; and in those
cases where it did come on, death ensued invariably within five
days. After 1808 a long interval ensued without any cases. On
inquiry, I did not hear of hydrophobia in Van Diemen's Land, or
in Australia; and Burchell says that during the five years he was
at the Cape of Good Hope, he never heard of an instance of it.
Webster asserts that at the Azores hydrophobia has never
occurred; and the same assertion has been made with respect to
Mauritius and St. Helena. (16/2. "Observa. sobre el clima de
Lima" page 67.--Azara's "Travels" volume 1 page 381.--Ulloa's
"Voyage" volume 2 page 28.--Burchell's "Travels" volume 2 page
524.--Webster's "Description of the Azores" page 124.--"Voyage 
l'Isle de France par un Officier du Roi" tome 1 page
248.--"Description of St. Helena" page 123.) In so strange a
disease some information might possibly be gained by considering
the circumstances under which it originates in distant climates;
for it is improbable that a dog already bitten should have been
brought to these distant countries.

At night a stranger arrived at the house of Don Benito and asked
permission to sleep there. He said he had been wandering about
the mountains for seventeen days, having lost his way. He started
from Guasco, and being accustomed to travelling in the
Cordillera, did not expect any difficulty in following the track
to Copiap; but he soon became involved in a labyrinth of
mountains whence he could not escape. Some of his mules had
fallen over precipices and he had been in great distress. His
chief difficulty arose from not knowing where to find water in
the lower country, so that he was obliged to keep bordering the
central ranges.

We returned down the valley, and on the 22nd reached the town of
Copiap. The lower part of the valley is broad, forming a fine
plain like that of Quillota. The town covers a considerable space
of ground, each house possessing a garden: but it is an
uncomfortable place, and the dwellings are poorly furnished.
Every one seems bent on the one object of making money, and then
migrating as quickly as possible. All the inhabitants are more or
less directly concerned with mines; and mines and ores are the
sole subjects of conversation. Necessaries of all sorts are
extremely dear; as the distance from the town to the port is
eighteen leagues, and the land carriage very expensive. A fowl
costs five or six shillings; meat is nearly as dear as in
England; firewood, or rather sticks, are brought on donkeys from
a distance of two and three days' journey within the Cordillera;
and pasturage for animals is a shilling a day: all this for South
America is wonderfully exorbitant.

JUNE 26, 1835.

I hired a guide and eight mules to take me into the Cordillera by
a different line from my last excursion. As the country was
utterly desert, we took a cargo and a half of barley mixed with
chopped straw. About two leagues above the town a broad valley
called the "Despoblado," or uninhabited, branches off from that
one by which we had arrived. Although a valley of the grandest
dimensions, and leading to a pass across the Cordillera, yet it
is completely dry, excepting perhaps for a few days during some
very rainy winter. The sides of the crumbling mountains were
furrowed by scarcely any ravines; and the bottom of the main
valley, filled with shingle, was smooth and nearly level. No
considerable torrent could ever have flowed down this bed of
shingle; for if it had, a great cliff-bounded channel, as in all
the southern valleys, would assuredly have been formed. I feel
little doubt that this valley, as well as those mentioned by
travellers in Peru, were left in the state we now see them by the
waves of the sea, as the land slowly rose. I observed in one
place where the Despoblado was joined by a ravine (which in
almost any other chain would have been called a grand valley),
that its bed, though composed merely of sand and gravel, was
higher than that of its tributary. A mere rivulet of water, in
the course of an hour, would have cut a channel for itself; but
it was evident that ages had passed away, and no such rivulet had
drained this great tributary. It was curious to behold the
machinery, if such a term may be used, for the drainage, all,
with the last trifling exception, perfect, yet without any signs
of action. Every one must have remarked how mud-banks, left by
the retiring tide, imitate in miniature a country with hill and
dale; and here we have the original model in rock, formed as the
continent rose during the secular retirement of the ocean,
instead of during the ebbing and flowing of the tides. If a
shower of rain falls on the mud-bank, when left dry, it deepens
the already-formed shallow lines of excavation; and so it is with
the rain of successive centuries on the bank of rock and soil,
which we call a continent.

We rode on after it was dark, till we reached a side ravine with
a small well, called "Agua amarga." The water deserved its name,
for besides being saline it was most offensively putrid and
bitter; so that we could not force ourselves to drink either tea
or mat. I suppose the distance from the river of Copiap to this
spot was at least twenty-five or thirty English miles; in the
whole space there was not a single drop of water, the country
deserving the name of desert in the strictest sense. Yet about
half-way we passed some old Indian ruins near Punta Gorda: I
noticed also in front of some of the valleys which branch off
from the Despoblado, two piles of stones placed a little way
apart, and directed so as to point up the mouths of these small
valleys. My companions knew nothing about them, and only answered
my queries by their imperturbable "quien sabe?"

I observed Indian ruins in several parts of the Cordillera: the
most perfect which I saw were the Ruinas de Tambillos in the
Uspallata Pass. Small square rooms were there huddled together in
separate groups: some of the doorways were yet standing; they
were formed by a cross slab of stone only about three feet high.
Ulloa has remarked on the lowness of the doors in the ancient
Peruvian dwellings. These houses, when perfect, must have been
capable of containing a considerable number of persons. Tradition
says that they were used as halting-places for the Incas, when
they crossed the mountains. Traces of Indian habitations have
been discovered in many other parts, where it does not appear
probable that they were used as mere resting-places, but yet
where the land is as utterly unfit for any kind of cultivation as
it is near the Tambillos or at the Incas Bridge, or in the
Portillo Pass, at all which places I saw ruins. In the ravine of
Jajuel, near Aconcagua, where there is no pass, I heard of
remains of houses situated at a great height, where it is
extremely cold and sterile. At first I imagined that these
buildings had been places of refuge, built by the Indians on the
first arrival of the Spaniards; but I have since been inclined to
speculate on the probability of a small change of climate.

In this northern part of Chile, within the Cordillera, old Indian
houses are said to be especially numerous: by digging amongst the
ruins, bits of woollen articles, instruments of precious metals,
and heads of Indian corn, are not unfrequently discovered: an
arrow-head made of agate, and of precisely the same form with
those now used in Tierra del Fuego, was given me. I am aware that
the Peruvian Indians now frequently inhabit most lofty and bleak
situations; but at Copiap I was assured by men who had spent
their lives in travelling through the Andes, that there were very
many (muchisimas) buildings at heights so great as almost to
border on the perpetual snow, and in parts where there exist no
passes, and where the land produces absolutely nothing, and what
is still more extraordinary, where there is no water.
Nevertheless it is the opinion of the people of the country
(although they are much puzzled by the circumstance), that, from
the appearance of the houses, the Indians must have used them as
places of residence. In this valley, at Punta Gorda, the remains
consisted of seven or eight square little rooms, which were of a
similar form with those at Tambillos, but built chiefly of mud,
which the present inhabitants cannot, either here or, according
to Ulloa, in Peru, imitate in durability. They were situated in
the most conspicuous and defenceless position, at the bottom of
the flat broad valley. There was no water nearer than three or
four leagues, and that only in very small quantity, and bad: the
soil was absolutely sterile; I looked in vain even for a lichen
adhering to the rocks. At the present day, with the advantage of
beasts of burden, a mine, unless it were very rich, could
scarcely be worked here with profit. Yet the Indians formerly
chose it as a place of residence! If at the present time two or
three showers of rain were to fall annually, instead of one, as
now is the case, during as many years, a small rill of water
would probably be formed in this great valley; and then, by
irrigation (which was formerly so well understood by the
Indians), the soil would easily be rendered sufficiently
productive to support a few families.

I have convincing proofs that this part of the continent of South
America has been elevated near the coast at least from 400 to
500, and in some parts from 1000 to 1300 feet, since the epoch of
existing shells; and farther inland the rise possibly may have
been greater. As the peculiarly arid character of the climate is
evidently a consequence of the height of the Cordillera, we may
feel almost sure that before the later elevations, the atmosphere
could not have been so completely drained of its moisture as it
now is; and as the rise has been gradual, so would have been the
change in climate. On this notion of a change of climate since
the buildings were inhabited, the ruins must be of extreme
antiquity, but I do not think their preservation under the
Chilian climate any great difficulty. We must also admit on this
notion (and this perhaps is a greater difficulty) that man has
inhabited South America for an immensely long period, inasmuch as
any change of climate effected by the elevation of the land must
have been extremely gradual. At Valparaiso, within the last 220
years, the rise has been somewhat less than 19 feet: at Lima a
sea-beach has certainly been upheaved from 80 to 90 feet, within
the Indio-human period: but such small elevations could have had
little power in deflecting the moisture-bringing atmospheric
currents. Dr. Lund, however, found human skeletons in the caves
of Brazil, the appearance of which induced him to believe that
the Indian race has existed during a vast lapse of time in South
America.

When at Lima, I conversed on these subjects with Mr. Gill, a
civil engineer, who had seen much of the interior country. (16/3.
Temple, in his travels through Upper Peru, or Bolivia, in going
from Potosi to Oruro, says "I saw many Indian villages or
dwellings in ruins, up even to the very tops of the mountains,
attesting a former population where now all is desolate." He
makes similar remarks in another place; but I cannot tell whether
this desolation has been caused by a want of population, or by an
altered condition of the land.) He told me that a conjecture of a
change of climate had sometimes crossed his mind; but that he
thought that the greater portion of land, now incapable of
cultivation, but covered with Indian ruins, had been reduced to
this state by the water-conduits, which the Indians formerly
constructed on so wonderful a scale, having been injured by
neglect and by subterranean movements. I may here mention that
the Peruvians actually carried their irrigating streams in
tunnels through hills of solid rock. Mr. Gill told me he had been
employed professionally to examine one: he found the passage low,
narrow, crooked, and not of uniform breadth, but of very
considerable length. Is it not most wonderful that men should
have attempted such operations, without the use of iron or
gunpowder? Mr. Gill also mentioned to me a most interesting, and,
as far as I am aware, quite unparalleled case, of a subterranean
disturbance having changed the drainage of a country. Travelling
from Casma to Huaraz (not very far distant from Lima), he found a
plain covered with ruins and marks of ancient cultivation but now
quite barren. Near it was the dry course of a considerable river,
whence the water for irrigation had formerly been conducted.
There was nothing in the appearance of the watercourse to
indicate that the river had not flowed there a few years
previously; in some parts, beds of sand and gravel were spread
out; in others, the solid rock had been worn into a broad
channel, which in one spot was about 40 yards in breadth and 8
feet deep. It is self-evident that a person following up the
course of a stream will always ascend at a greater or less
inclination: Mr. Gill, therefore, was much astonished, when
walking up the bed of this ancient river, to find himself
suddenly going down hill. He imagined that the downward slope had
a fall of about 40 or 50 feet perpendicular. We here have
unequivocal evidence that a ridge had been uplifted right across
the old bed of a stream. From the moment the river-course was
thus arched, the water must necessarily have been thrown back,
and a new channel formed. From that moment, also, the
neighbouring plain must have lost its fertilising stream, and
become a desert.

JUNE 27, 1835.

We set out early in the morning, and by mid-day reached the
ravine of Paypote, where there is a tiny rill of water, with a
little vegetation, and even a few algarroba trees, a kind of
mimosa. From having firewood, a smelting-furnace had formerly
been built here: we found a solitary man in charge of it, whose
sole employment was hunting guanacos. At night it froze sharply;
but having plenty of wood for our fire, we kept ourselves warm.

JUNE 28, 1835.

We continued gradually ascending, and the valley now changed into
a ravine. During the day we saw several guanacos, and the track
of the closely-allied species, the Vicua: this latter animal is
pre-eminently alpine in its habits; it seldom descends much below
the limit of perpetual snow, and therefore haunts even a more
lofty and sterile situation than the guanaco. The only other
animal which we saw in any number was a small fox: I suppose this
animal preys on the mice and other small rodents which, as long
as there is the least vegetation, subsist in considerable numbers
in very desert places. In Patagonia, even on the borders of the
salinas, where a drop of fresh water can never be found,
excepting dew, these little animals swarm. Next to lizards, mice
appear to be able to support existence on the smallest and driest
portions of the earth--even on islets in the midst of great
oceans.

The scene on all sides showed desolation, brightened and made
palpable by a clear, unclouded sky. For a time such scenery is
sublime, but this feeling cannot last, and then it becomes
uninteresting. We bivouacked at the foot of the "primera linea,"
or the first line of the partition of the waters. The streams,
however, on the east side do not flow to the Atlantic, but into
an elevated district, in the middle of which there is a large
salina, or salt lake;--thus forming a little Caspian Sea at the
height, perhaps, of ten thousand feet. Where we slept, there were
some considerable patches of snow, but they do not remain
throughout the year. The winds in these lofty regions obey very
regular laws; every day a fresh breeze blows up the valley, and
at night, an hour or two after sunset, the air from the cold
regions above descends as through a funnel. This night it blew a
gale of wind, and the temperature must have been considerably
below the freezing-point, for water in a vessel soon became a
block of ice. No clothes seemed to oppose any obstacle to the
air; I suffered very much from the cold, so that I could not
sleep, and in the morning rose with my body quite dull and
benumbed.

In the Cordillera farther southward people lose their lives from
snow-storms; here, it sometimes happens from another cause. My
guide, when a boy of fourteen years old, was passing the
Cordillera with a party in the month of May; and while in the
central parts, a furious gale of wind arose, so that the men
could hardly cling on their mules, and stones were flying along
the ground. The day was cloudless, and not a speck of snow fell,
but the temperature was low. It is probable that the thermometer
would not have stood very many degrees below the freezing-point,
but the effect on their bodies, ill protected by clothing, must
have been in proportion to the rapidity of the current of cold
air. The gale lasted for more than a day; the men began to lose
their strength, and the mules would not move onwards. My guide's
brother tried to return, but he perished, and his body was found
two years afterwards, lying by the side of his mule near the
road, with the bridle still in his hand. Two other men in the
party lost their fingers and toes; and out of two hundred mules
and thirty cows, only fourteen mules escaped alive. Many years
ago the whole of a large party are supposed to have perished from
a similar cause, but their bodies to this day have never been
discovered. The union of a cloudless sky, low temperature, and a
furious gale of wind, must be, I should think, in all parts of
the world an unusual occurrence.

JUNE 29, 1835.

We gladly travelled down the valley to our former night's
lodging, and thence to near the Agua amarga. On July 1st we
reached the valley of Copiap. The smell of the fresh clover was
quite delightful, after the scentless air of the dry sterile
Despoblado. Whilst staying in the town I heard an account from
several of the inhabitants, of a hill in the neighbourhood which
they called "El Bramador,"--the roarer or bellower. I did not at
the time pay sufficient attention to the account; but, as far as
I understood, the hill was covered by sand, and the noise was
produced only when people, by ascending it, put the sand in
motion. The same circumstances are described in detail on the
authority of Seetzen and Ehrenberg, as the cause of the sounds
which have been heard by many travellers on Mount Sinai near the
Red Sea. (16/4. "Edinburgh Philosophical Journal" January 1830
page 74 and April 1830 page 258. Also Daubeny on Volcanoes page
438 and "Bengal Journal" volume 7 page 324.) One person with whom
I conversed had himself heard the noise: he described it as very
surprising; and he distinctly stated that, although he could not
understand how it was caused, yet it was necessary to set the
sand rolling down the acclivity. A horse walking over dry and
coarse sand causes a peculiar chirping noise from the friction of
the particles; a circumstance which I several times noticed on
the coast of Brazil.

Three days afterwards I heard of the "Beagle's" arrival at the
Port, distant eighteen leagues from the town. There is very
little land cultivated down the valley; its wide expanse supports
a wretched wiry grass, which even the donkeys can hardly eat.
This poorness of the vegetation is owing to the quantity of
saline matter with which the soil is impregnated. The Port
consists of an assemblage of miserable little hovels, situated at
the foot of a sterile plain. At present, as the river contains
water enough to reach the sea, the inhabitants enjoy the
advantage of having fresh water within a mile and a half. On the
beach there were large piles of merchandise, and the little place
had an air of activity. In the evening I gave my adios, with a
hearty good-will, to my companion Mariano Gonzales, with whom I
had ridden so many leagues in Chile. The next morning the
"Beagle" sailed for Iquique.

JULY 12, 1835.

We anchored in the port of Iquique, in latitude 20 degrees 12',
on the coast of Peru. The town contains about a thousand
inhabitants, and stands on a little plain of sand at the foot of
a great wall of rock, 2000 feet in height, here forming the
coast. The whole is utterly desert. A light shower of rain falls
only once in very many years; and the ravines consequently are
filled with detritus, and the mountainsides covered by piles of
fine white sand, even to a height of a thousand feet. During this
season of the year a heavy bank of clouds, stretched over the
ocean, seldom rises above the wall of rocks on the coast. The
aspect of the place was most gloomy; the little port, with its
few vessels, and small group of wretched houses, seemed
overwhelmed and out of all proportion with the rest of the scene.

The inhabitants live like persons on board a ship: every
necessary comes from a distance: water is brought in boats from
Pisagua, about forty miles northward, and is sold at the rate of
nine reals (four shillings and sixpence) an eighteen-gallon cask:
I bought a wine-bottle full for threepence. In like manner
firewood, and of course every article of food, is imported. Very
few animals can be maintained in such a place: on the ensuing
morning I hired with difficulty, at the price of four pounds
sterling, two mules and a guide to take me to the nitrate of soda
works. These are at present the support of Iquique. This salt was
first exported in 1830: in one year an amount in value of one
hundred thousand pounds sterling was sent to France and England.
It is principally used as a manure and in the manufacture of
nitric acid: owing to its deliquescent property it will not serve
for gunpowder. Formerly there were two exceedingly rich
silver-mines in this neighbourhood, but their produce is now very
small.

Our arrival in the offing caused some little apprehension. Peru
was in a state of anarchy; and each party having demanded a
contribution, the poor town of Iquique was in tribulation,
thinking the evil hour was come. The people had also their
domestic troubles; a short time before, three French carpenters
had broken open, during the same night, the two churches, and
stolen all the plate: one of the robbers, however, subsequently
confessed, and the plate was recovered. The convicts were sent to
Arequipa, which though the capital of this province, is two
hundred leagues distant, the government there thought it a pity
to punish such useful workmen who could make all sorts of
furniture; and accordingly liberated them. Things being in this
state, the churches were again broken open, but this time the
plate was not recovered. The inhabitants became dreadfully
enraged, and declaring that none but heretics would thus "eat God
Almighty," proceeded to torture some Englishmen, with the
intention of afterwards shooting them. At last the authorities
interfered, and peace was established.

JULY 13, 1835.

In the morning I started for the saltpetre-works, a distance of
fourteen leagues. Having ascended the steep coast-mountains by a
zigzag sandy track, we soon came in view of the mines of
Guantajaya and St. Rosa. These two small villages are placed at
the very mouths of the mines; and being perched up on hills, they
had a still more unnatural and desolate appearance than the town
of Iquique. We did not reach the saltpetre works till after
sunset, having ridden all day across an undulating country, a
complete and utter desert. The road was strewed with the bones
and dried skins of many beasts of burden which had perished on it
from fatigue. Excepting the Vultur aura, which preys on the
carcasses, I saw neither bird, quadruped, reptile, nor insect. On
the coast-mountains, at the height of about 2000 feet, where
during this season the clouds generally hang, a very few cacti
were growing in the clefts of rock; and the loose sand was
strewed over with a lichen, which lies on the surface quite
unattached. This plant belongs to the genus Cladonia, and
somewhat resembles the reindeer lichen. In some parts it was in
sufficient quantity to tinge the sand, as seen from a distance,
of a pale yellowish colour. Farther inland, during the whole ride
of fourteen leagues, I saw only one other vegetable production,
and that was a most minute yellow lichen, growing on the bones of
the dead mules. This was the first true desert which I had seen:
the effect on me was not impressive; but I believe this was owing
to my having become gradually accustomed to such scenes, as I
rode northward from Valparaiso, through Coquimbo, to Copiap. The
appearance of the country was remarkable, from being covered by a
thick crust of common salt, and of a stratified saliferous
alluvium, which seems to have been deposited as the land slowly
rose above the level of the sea. The salt is white, very hard,
and compact: it occurs in water-worn nodules projecting from the
agglutinated sand, and is associated with much gypsum. The
appearance of this superficial mass very closely resembled that
of a country after snow, before the last dirty patches are
thawed. The existence of this crust of a soluble substance over
the whole face of the country shows how extraordinarily dry the
climate must have been for a long period.

At night I slept at the house of the owner of one of the
saltpetre mines. The country is here as unproductive as near the
coast; but water, having rather a bitter and brackish taste, can
be procured by digging wells. The well at this house was
thirty-six yards deep: as scarcely any rain falls, it is evident
the water is not thus derived; indeed if it were, it could not
fail to be as salt as brine, for the whole surrounding country is
incrusted with various saline substances. We must therefore
conclude that it percolates under ground from the Cordillera,
though distant many leagues. In that direction there are a few
small villages, where the inhabitants, having more water, are
enabled to irrigate a little land, and raise hay, on which the
mules and asses, employed in carrying the saltpetre, are fed. The
nitrate of soda was now selling at the ship's side at fourteen
shillings per hundred pounds: the chief expense is its transport
to the sea-coast. The mine consists of a hard stratum, between
two and three feet thick, of the nitrate mingled with a little of
the sulphate of soda and a good deal of common salt. It lies
close beneath the surface, and follows for a length of one
hundred and fifty miles the margin of a grand basin or plain;
this, from its outline, manifestly must once have been a lake, or
more probably an inland arm of the sea, as may be inferred from
the presence of iodic salts in the saline stratum. The surface of
the plain is 3300 feet above the Pacific.

JULY 19, 1835.

We anchored in the Bay of Callao, the seaport of Lima, the
capital of Peru. We stayed here six weeks, but from the troubled
state of public affairs I saw very little of the country. During
our whole visit the climate was far from being so delightful as
it is generally represented. A dull heavy bank of clouds
constantly hung over the land, so that during the first sixteen
days I had only one view of the Cordillera behind Lima. These
mountains, seen in stages, one above the other, through openings
in the clouds, had a very grand appearance. It is almost become a
proverb, that rain never falls in the lower part of Peru. Yet
this can hardly be considered correct; for during almost every
day of our visit there was a thick drizzling mist, which was
sufficient to make the streets muddy and one's clothes damp: this
the people are pleased to call Peruvian dew. That much rain does
not fall is very certain, for the houses are covered only with
flat roofs made of hardened mud; and on the mole ship-loads of
wheat were piled up, being thus left for weeks together without
any shelter.

I cannot say I liked the very little I saw of Peru: in summer,
however, it is said that the climate is much pleasanter. In all
seasons, both inhabitants and foreigners suffer from severe
attacks of ague. This disease is common on the whole coast of
Peru, but is unknown in the interior. The attacks of illness
which arise from miasma never fail to appear most mysterious. So
difficult is it to judge from the aspect of a country, whether or
not it is healthy, that if a person had been told to choose
within the tropics a situation appearing favourable for health,
very probably he would have named this coast. The plain round the
outskirts of Callao is sparingly covered with a coarse grass, and
in some parts there are a few stagnant, though very small, pools
of water. The miasma, in all probability, arises from these: for
the town of Arica was similarly circumstanced, and its
healthiness was much improved by the drainage of some little
pools. Miasma is not always produced by a luxuriant vegetation
with an ardent climate; for many parts of Brazil, even where
there are marshes and a rank vegetation, are much more healthy
than this sterile coast of Peru. The densest forests in a
temperate climate, as in Chiloe, do not seem in the slightest
degree to affect the healthy condition of the atmosphere.

The island of St. Jago, at the Cape de Verds, offers another
strongly-marked instance of a country, which any one would have
expected to find most healthy, being very much the contrary. I
have described the bare and open plains as supporting, during a
few weeks after the rainy season, a thin vegetation, which
directly withers away and dries up: at this period the air
appears to become quite poisonous; both natives and foreigners
often being affected with violent fevers. On the other hand, the
Galapagos Archipelago, in the Pacific, with a similar soil, and
periodically subject to the same process of vegetation, is
perfectly healthy. Humboldt has observed that "under the torrid
zone, the smallest marshes are the most dangerous, being
surrounded, as at Vera Cruz and Carthagena, with an arid and
sandy soil, which raises the temperature of the ambient air."
(16/5. "Political Essay on the Kingdom of New Spain" volume 4
page 199.) On the coast of Peru, however, the temperature is not
hot to any excessive degree; and perhaps in consequence the
intermittent fevers are not of the most malignant order. In all
unhealthy countries the greatest risk is run by sleeping on
shore. Is this owing to the state of the body during sleep, or to
a greater abundance of miasma at such times? It appears certain
that those who stay on board a vessel, though anchored at only a
short distance from the coast, generally suffer less than those
actually on shore. On the other hand, I have heard of one
remarkable case where a fever broke out among the crew of a
man-of-war some hundred miles off the coast of Africa, and at the
same time one of those fearful periods of death commenced at
Sierra Leone. (16/6. A similar interesting case is recorded in
the "Madras Medical Quarterly Journal" 1839 page 340. Dr.
Ferguson in his admirable Paper see 9th volume of "Edinburgh
Royal Transactions" shows clearly that the poison is generated in
the drying process; and hence that dry hot countries are often
the most unhealthy.)

No state in South America, since the declaration of independence,
has suffered more from anarchy than Peru. At the time of our
visit there were four chiefs in arms contending for supremacy in
the government: if one succeeded in becoming for a time very
powerful, the others coalesced against him; but no sooner were
they victorious than they were again hostile to each other. The
other day, at the Anniversary of the Independence, high mass was
performed, the President partaking of the sacrament: during the
"Te Deum laudamus," instead of each regiment displaying the
Peruvian flag, a black one with death's head was unfurled.
Imagine a government under which such a scene could be ordered,
on such an occasion, to be typical of their determination of
fighting to death! This state of affairs happened at a time very
unfortunately for me, as I was precluded from taking any
excursions much beyond the limits of the town. The barren island
of San Lorenzo, which forms the harbour, was nearly the only
place where one could walk securely. The upper part, which is
upwards of 1000 feet in height, during this season of the year
(winter), comes within the lower limit of the clouds; and in
consequence an abundant cryptogamic vegetation and a few flowers
cover the summit. On the hills near Lima, at a height but little
greater, the ground is carpeted with moss, and beds of beautiful
yellow lilies, called Amancaes. This indicates a very much
greater degree of humidity than at a corresponding height at
Iquique. Proceeding northward of Lima, the climate becomes
damper, till on the banks of the Guayaquil, nearly under the
equator, we find the most luxuriant forests. The change, however,
from the sterile coast of Peru to that fertile land is described
as taking place rather abruptly in the latitude of Cape Blanco,
two degrees south of Guayaquil.

Callao is a filthy, ill-built, small seaport. The inhabitants,
both here and at Lima, present every imaginable shade of mixture,
between European, Negro, and Indian blood. They appear a
depraved, drunken set of people. The atmosphere is loaded with
foul smells, and that peculiar one, which may be perceived in
almost every town within the tropics, was here very strong. The
fortress, which withstood Lord Cochrane's long siege, has an
imposing appearance. But the President, during our stay, sold the
brass guns, and proceeded to dismantle parts of it. The reason
assigned was, that he had not an officer to whom he could trust
so important a charge. He himself had good reason for thinking
so, as he had obtained the presidentship by rebelling while in
charge of this same fortress. After we left South America, he
paid the penalty in the usual manner, by being conquered, taken
prisoner, and shot.

Lima stands on a plain in a valley, formed during the gradual
retreat of the sea. It is seven miles from Callao, and is
elevated 500 feet above it; but from the slope being very
gradual, the road appears absolutely level; so that when at Lima
it is difficult to believe one has ascended even one hundred
feet: Humboldt has remarked on this singularly deceptive case.
Steep barren hills rise like islands from the plain, which is
divided, by straight mud-walls, into large green fields. In these
scarcely a tree grows excepting a few willows, and an occasional
clump of bananas and of oranges. The city of Lima is now in a
wretched state of decay: the streets are nearly unpaved; and
heaps of filth are piled up in all directions, where the black
gallinazos, tame as poultry, pick up bits of carrion. The houses
have generally an upper story, built, on account of the
earthquakes, of plastered woodwork; but some of the old ones,
which are now used by several families, are immensely large, and
would rival in suites of apartments the most magnificent in any
place. Lima, the City of the Kings, must formerly have been a
splendid town. The extraordinary number of churches gives it,
even at the present day, a peculiar and striking character,
especially when viewed from a short distance.

One day I went out with some merchants to hunt in the immediate
vicinity of the city. Our sport was very poor; but I had an
opportunity of seeing the ruins of one of the ancient Indian
villages, with its mound like a natural hill in the centre. The
remains of houses, enclosures, irrigating streams, and burial
mounds, scattered over this plain, cannot fail to give one a high
idea of the condition and number of the ancient population. When
their earthenware, woollen clothes, utensils of elegant forms cut
out of the hardest rocks, tools of copper, ornaments of precious
stones, palaces, and hydraulic works, are considered, it is
impossible not to respect the considerable advance made by them
in the arts of civilisation. The burial mounds, called Huacas,
are really stupendous; although in some places they appear to be
natural hills encased and modelled.

There is also another and very different class of ruins which
possesses some interest, namely, those of old Callao, overwhelmed
by the great earthquake of 1746, and its accompanying wave. The
destruction must have been more complete even than at Talcahuano.
Quantities of shingle almost conceal the foundations of the
walls, and vast masses of brickwork appear to have been whirled
about like pebbles by the retiring waves. It has been stated that
the land subsided during this memorable shock: I could not
discover any proof of this; yet it seems far from improbable, for
the form of the coast must certainly have undergone some change
since the foundation of the old town; as no people in their
senses would willingly have chosen for their building place the
narrow spit of shingle on which the ruins now stand. Since our
voyage, M. Tschudi has come to the conclusion, by the comparison
of old and modern maps, that the coast both north and south of
Lima has certainly subsided.

On the island of San Lorenzo there are very satisfactory proofs
of elevation within the recent period; this of course is not
opposed to the belief of a small sinking of the ground having
subsequently taken place. The side of this island fronting the
Bay of Callao is worn into three obscure terraces, the lower one
of which is covered by a bed a mile in length, almost wholly
composed of shells of eighteen species, now living in the
adjoining sea. The height of this bed is eighty-five feet. Many
of the shells are deeply corroded, and have a much older and more
decayed appearance than those at the height of 500 or 600 feet on
the coast of Chile. These shells are associated with much common
salt, a little sulphate of lime (both probably left by the
evaporation of the spray, as the land slowly rose), together with
sulphate of soda and muriate of lime. They rest on fragments of
the underlying sandstone, and are covered by a few inches thick
of detritus. The shells higher up on this terrace could be traced
scaling off in flakes, and falling into an impalpable powder; and
on an upper terrace, at the height of 170 feet, and likewise at
some considerably higher points, I found a layer of saline powder
of exactly similar appearance, and lying in the same relative
position. I have no doubt that this upper layer originally
existed as a bed of shells, like that on the eighty-five-feet
ledge; but it does not now contain even a trace of organic
structure. The powder has been analysed for me by Mr. T. Reeks;
it consists of sulphates and muriates both of lime and soda, with
very little carbonate of lime. It is known that common salt and
carbonate of lime left in a mass for some time together partly
decompose each other; though this does not happen with small
quantities in solution. As the half-decomposed shells in the
lower parts are associated with much common salt, together with
some of the saline substances composing the upper saline layer,
and as these shells are corroded and decayed in a remarkable
manner, I strongly suspect that this double decomposition has
here taken place. The resultant salts, however, ought to be
carbonate of soda and muriate of lime, the latter is present, but
not the carbonate of soda. Hence I am led to imagine that by some
unexplained means the carbonate of soda becomes changed into the
sulphate. It is obvious that the saline layer could not have been
preserved in any country in which abundant rain occasionally
fell: on the other hand this very circumstance, which at first
sight appears so highly favourable to the long preservation of
exposed shells, has probably been the indirect means, through the
common salt not having been washed away, of their decomposition
and early decay.

I was much interested by finding on the terrace, at the height of
eighty-five feet, EMBEDDED amidst the shells and much sea-drifted
rubbish, some bits of cotton thread, plaited rush, and the head
of a stalk of Indian corn: I compared these relics with similar
ones taken out of the Huacas, or old Peruvian tombs, and found
them identical in appearance. On the mainland in front of San
Lorenzo, near Bellavista, there is an extensive and level plain
about a hundred feet high, of which the lower part is formed of
alternating layers of sand and impure clay, together with some
gravel, and the surface, to the depth of from three to six feet,
of a reddish loam, containing a few scattered sea-shells and
numerous small fragments of coarse red earthenware, more abundant
at certain spots than at others. At first I was inclined to
believe that this superficial bed, from its wide extent and
smoothness, must have been deposited beneath the sea; but I
afterwards found in one spot that it lay on an artificial floor
of round stones. It seems, therefore, most probable that at a
period when the land stood at a lower level there was a plain
very similar to that now surrounding Callao, which, being
protected by a shingle beach, is raised but very little above the
level of the sea. On this plain, with its underlying red-clay
beds, I imagine that the Indians manufactured their earthen
vessels; and that, during some violent earthquake, the sea broke
over the beach, and converted the plain into a temporary lake, as
happened round Callao in 1713 and 1746. The water would then have
deposited mud containing fragments of pottery from the kilns,
more abundant at some spots than at others, and shells from the
sea. This bed with fossil earthenware stands at about the same
height with the shells on the lower terrace of San Lorenzo, in
which the cotton-thread and other relics were embedded. Hence we
may safely conclude that within the Indo-human period there has
been an elevation, as before alluded to, of more than eighty-five
feet; for some little elevation must have been lost by the coast
having subsided since the old maps were engraved. At Valparaiso,
although in the 220 years before our visit the elevation cannot
have exceeded nineteen feet, yet subsequently to 1817 there has
been a rise, partly insensible and partly by a start during the
shock of 1822, of ten or eleven feet. The antiquity of the
Indo-human race here, judging by the eighty-five feet rise of the
land since the relics were embedded, is the more remarkable, as
on the coast of Patagonia, when the land stood about the same
number of feet lower, the Macrauchenia was a living beast; but as
the Patagonian coast is some way distant from the Cordillera, the
rising there may have been slower than here. At Bahia Blanca the
elevation has been only a few feet since the numerous gigantic
quadrupeds were there entombed; and, according to the generally
received opinion, when these extinct animals were living man did
not exist. But the rising of that part of the coast of Patagonia
is perhaps no way connected with the Cordillera, but rather with
a line of old volcanic rocks in Banda Oriental, so that it may
have been infinitely slower than on the shores of Peru. All these
speculations, however, must be vague; for who will pretend to say
that there may not have been several periods of subsidence,
intercalated between the movements of elevation? for we know that
along the whole coast of Patagonia there have certainly been many
and long pauses in the upward action of the elevatory forces.

(PLATE 78.  HUACAS, PERUVIAN POTTERY.)


CHAPTER XVII.

GALAPAGOS ARCHIPELAGO.

(PLATE 79.  TESTUDO ABINGDONII, GALAPAGOS ISLANDS.)

The whole group volcanic.
Number of craters.
Leafless bushes.
Colony at Charles Island.
James Island.
Salt-lake in crater.
Natural history of the group.
Ornithology, curious finches.
Reptiles.
Great tortoises, habits of.
Marine Lizard, feeds on Sea-weed.
Terrestrial Lizard, burrowing habits, herbivorous.
Importance of reptiles in the Archipelago.
Fish, shells, insects.
Botany.
American type of organisation.
Differences in the species or races on different islands.
Tameness of the birds.
Fear of man an acquired instinct.

SEPTEMBER 15, 1835.

(PLATE 80.  GALAPAGOS ARCHIPELAGO.)

This archipelago consists of ten principal islands, of which five
exceed the others in size. They are situated under the Equator,
and between five and six hundred miles westward of the coast of
America. They are all formed of volcanic rocks; a few fragments
of granite curiously glazed and altered by the heat can hardly be
considered as an exception. Some of the craters surmounting the
larger islands are of immense size, and they rise to a height of
between three and four thousand feet. Their flanks are studded by
innumerable smaller orifices. I scarcely hesitate to affirm that
there must be in the whole archipelago at least two thousand
craters. These consist either of lava and scoriae, or of
finely-stratified, sandstone-like tuff. Most of the latter are
beautifully symmetrical; they owe their origin to eruptions of
volcanic mud without any lava: it is a remarkable circumstance
that every one of the twenty-eight tuff-craters which were
examined had their southern sides either much lower than the
other sides, or quite broken down and removed. As all these
craters apparently have been formed when standing in the sea, and
as the waves from the trade wind and the swell from the open
Pacific here unite their forces on the southern coasts of all the
islands, this singular uniformity in the broken state of the
craters, composed of the soft and yielding tuff, is easily
explained.

Considering that these islands are placed directly under the
equator, the climate is far from being excessively hot; this
seems chiefly caused by the singularly low temperature of the
surrounding water, brought here by the great southern Polar
current. Excepting during one short season very little rain
falls, and even then it is irregular; but the clouds generally
hang low. Hence, whilst the lower parts of the islands are very
sterile, the upper parts, at a height of a thousand feet and
upwards, possess a damp climate and a tolerably luxuriant
vegetation. This is especially the case on the windward sides of
the islands, which first receive and condense the moisture from
the atmosphere.

In the morning (17th) we landed on Chatham Island, which, like
the others, rises with a tame and rounded outline, broken here
and there by scattered hillocks, the remains of former craters.
Nothing could be less inviting than the first appearance. A
broken field of black basaltic lava, thrown into the most rugged
waves, and crossed by great fissures, is everywhere covered by
stunted, sunburnt brushwood, which shows little signs of life.
The dry and parched surface, being heated by the noonday sun,
gave to the air a close and sultry feeling, like that from a
stove: we fancied even that the bushes smelt unpleasantly.
Although I diligently tried to collect as many plants as
possible, I succeeded in getting very few; and such
wretched-looking little weeds would have better become an arctic
than an equatorial Flora. The brushwood appears, from a short
distance, as leafless as our trees during winter; and it was some
time before I discovered that not only almost every plant was now
in full leaf, but that the greater number were in flower. The
commonest bush is one of the Euphorbiaceae: an acacia and a great
odd-looking cactus are the only trees which afford any shade.
After the season of heavy rains, the islands are said to appear
for a short time partially green. The volcanic island of Fernando
Noronha, placed in many respects under nearly similar conditions,
is the only other country where I have seen a vegetation at all
like this of the Galapagos Islands.

The "Beagle" sailed round Chatham Island, and anchored in several
bays. One night I slept on shore on a part of the island where
black truncated cones were extraordinarily numerous: from one
small eminence I counted sixty of them, all surmounted by craters
more or less perfect. The greater number consisted merely of a
ring of red scoriae or slags cemented together: and their height
above the plain of lava was not more than from fifty to a hundred
feet: none had been very lately active. The entire surface of
this part of the island seems to have been permeated, like a
sieve, by the subterranean vapours: here and there the lava,
whilst soft, has been blown into great bubbles; and in other
parts, the tops of caverns similarly formed have fallen in,
leaving circular pits with steep sides. From the regular form of
the many craters, they gave to the country an artificial
appearance, which vividly reminded me of those parts of
Staffordshire where the great iron-foundries are most numerous.
The day was glowing hot, and the scrambling over the rough
surface and through the intricate thickets was very fatiguing;
but I was well repaid by the strange Cyclopean scene. As I was
walking along I met two large tortoises, each of which must have
weighed at least two hundred pounds: one was eating a piece of
cactus, and as I approached, it stared at me and slowly walked
away; the other gave a deep hiss, and drew in its head. These
huge reptiles, surrounded by the black lava, the leafless shrubs,
and large cacti, seemed to my fancy like some antediluvian
animals. The few dull-coloured birds cared no more for me than
they did for the great tortoises.

SEPTEMBER 23, 1835.

The "Beagle" proceeded to Charles Island. This archipelago has
long been frequented, first by the Bucaniers, and latterly by
whalers, but it is only within the last six years that a small
colony has been established here. The inhabitants are between two
and three hundred in number; they are nearly all people of
colour, who have been banished for political crimes from the
Republic of the Equator, of which Quito is the capital. The
settlement is placed about four and a half miles inland, and at a
height probably of a thousand feet. In the first part of the road
we passed through leafless thickets, as in Chatham Island. Higher
up the woods gradually became greener; and as soon as we crossed
the ridge of the island we were cooled by a fine southerly
breeze, and our sight refreshed by a green and thriving
vegetation. In this upper region coarse grasses and ferns abound;
but there are no tree-ferns: I saw nowhere any member of the Palm
family, which is the more singular, as 360 miles northward, Cocos
Island takes its name from the number of cocoa-nuts. The houses
are irregularly scattered over a flat space of ground, which is
cultivated with sweet potatoes and bananas. It will not easily be
imagined how pleasant the sight of black mud was to us, after
having been so long accustomed to the parched soil of Peru and
Northern Chile. The inhabitants, although complaining of poverty,
obtain, without much trouble, the means of subsistence. In the
woods there are many wild pigs and goats; but the staple article
of animal food is supplied by the tortoises. Their numbers have
of course been greatly reduced in this island, but the people yet
count on two days' hunting giving them food for the rest of the
week. It is said that formerly single vessels have taken away as
many as seven hundred, and that the ship's company of a frigate
some years since brought down in one day two hundred tortoises to
the beach.

SEPTEMBER 29, 1835.

We doubled the south-west extremity of Albemarle Island, and the
next day were nearly becalmed between it and Narborough Island.
Both are covered with immense deluges of black naked lava, which
have flowed either over the rims of the great caldrons, like
pitch over the rim of a pot in which it has been boiled, or have
burst forth from smaller orifices on the flanks; in their descent
they have spread over miles of the sea-coast. On both of these
islands eruptions are known to have taken place; and in Albemarle
we saw a small jet of smoke curling from the summit of one of the
great craters. In the evening we anchored in Bank's Cove, in
Albemarle Island. The next morning I went out walking. To the
south of the broken tuff-crater, in which the "Beagle" was
anchored, there was another beautifully symmetrical one of an
elliptic form; its longer axis was a little less than a mile, and
its depth about 500 feet. At its bottom there was a shallow lake,
in the middle of which a tiny crater formed an islet. The day was
overpoweringly hot, and the lake looked clear and blue: I hurried
down the cindery slope, and, choked with dust, eagerly tasted the
water--but, to my sorrow, I found it salt as brine.

The rocks on the coast abounded with great black lizards, between
three and four feet long; and on the hills, an ugly
yellowish-brown species was equally common. We saw many of this
latter kind, some clumsily running out of the way, and others
shuffling into their burrows. I shall presently describe in more
detail the habits of both these reptiles. The whole of this
northern part of Albemarle Island is miserably sterile.

OCTOBER 8, 1835.

We arrived at James Island: this island, as well as Charles
Island, were long since thus named after our kings of the Stuart
line. Mr. Bynoe, myself, and our servants were left here for a
week, with provisions and a tent, whilst the "Beagle" went for
water. We found here a party of Spaniards who had been sent from
Charles Island to dry fish and to salt tortoise-meat. About six
miles inland and at the height of nearly 2000 feet, a hovel had
been built in which two men lived, who were employed in catching
tortoises, whilst the others were fishing on the coast. I paid
this party two visits, and slept there one night. As in the other
islands, the lower region was covered by nearly leafless bushes,
but the trees were here of a larger growth than elsewhere,
several being two feet and some even two feet nine inches in
diameter. The upper region, being kept damp by the clouds,
supports a green and flourishing vegetation. So damp was the
ground, that there were large beds of a coarse cyperus, in which
great numbers of a very small water-rail lived and bred. While
staying in this upper region, we lived entirely upon
tortoise-meat: the breast-plate roasted (as the Gauchos do carne
con cuero), with the flesh on it, is very good; and the young
tortoises make excellent soup; but otherwise the meat to my taste
is indifferent.

One day we accompanied a party of the Spaniards in their
whale-boat to a salina, or lake from which salt is procured.
After landing we had a very rough walk over a rugged field of
recent lava, which has almost surrounded a tuff-crater at the
bottom of which the salt-lake lies. The water is only three or
four inches deep and rests on a layer of beautifully
crystallised, white salt. The lake is quite circular, and is
fringed with a border of bright green succulent plants; the
almost precipitous walls of the crater are clothed with wood, so
that the scene was altogether both picturesque and curious. A few
years since the sailors belonging to a sealing-vessel murdered
their captain in this quiet spot; and we saw his skull lying
among the bushes.

During the greater part of our stay of a week the sky was
cloudless, and if the trade-wind failed for an hour the heat
became very oppressive. On two days the thermometer within the
tent stood for some hours at 93 degrees; but in the open air, in
the wind and sun, at only 85 degrees. The sand was extremely hot;
the thermometer placed in some of a brown colour immediately rose
to 137 degrees, and how much above that it would have risen I do
not know for it was not graduated any higher. The black sand felt
much hotter, so that even in thick boots it was quite
disagreeable to walk over it.

The natural history of these islands is eminently curious, and
well deserves attention. Most of the organic productions are
aboriginal creations found nowhere else; there is even a
difference between the inhabitants of the different islands; yet
all show a marked relationship with those of America, though
separated from that continent by an open space of ocean, between
500 and 600 miles in width. The archipelago is a little world
within itself, or rather a satellite attached to America, whence
it has derived a few stray colonists, and has received the
general character of its indigenous productions. Considering the
small size of these islands, we feel the more astonished at the
number of their aboriginal beings, and at their confined range.
Seeing every height crowned with its crater, and the boundaries
of most of the lava-streams still distinct, we are led to believe
that within a period geologically recent the unbroken ocean was
here spread out. Hence, both in space and time, we seem to be
brought somewhat near to that great fact--that mystery of
mysteries--the first appearance of new beings on this earth.

Of terrestrial mammals there is only one which must be considered
as indigenous, namely a mouse (Mus Galapagoensis) and this is
confined, as far as I could ascertain, to Chatham Island, the
most easterly island of the group. It belongs, as I am informed
by Mr. Waterhouse, to a division of the family of mice
characteristic of America. At James Island there is a rat
sufficiently distinct from the common kind to have been named and
described by Mr. Waterhouse; but as it belongs to the old-world
division of the family, and as this island has been frequented by
ships for the last hundred and fifty years, I can hardly doubt
that this rat is merely a variety produced by the new and
peculiar climate, food, and soil, to which it has been subjected.
Although no one has a right to speculate without distinct facts,
yet even with respect to the Chatham Island mouse, it should be
borne in mind that it may possibly be an American species
imported here; for I have seen, in a most unfrequented part of
the Pampas, a native mouse living in the roof of a newly built
hovel, and therefore its transportation in a vessel is not
improbable: analogous facts have been observed by Dr. Richardson
in North America.

Of land-birds I obtained twenty-six kinds, all peculiar to the
group and found nowhere else, with the exception of one lark-like
finch from North America (Dolichonyx oryzivorus) which ranges on
that continent as far north as 54 degrees, and generally
frequents marshes. The other twenty-five birds consist, firstly,
of a hawk, curiously intermediate in structure between a Buzzard
and the American group of carrion-feeding Polybori; and with
these latter birds it agrees most closely in every habit and even
tone of voice. Secondly there are two owls, representing the
short-eared and white barn-owls of Europe. Thirdly a wren, three
tyrant-flycatchers (two of them species of Pyrocephalus, one or
both of which would be ranked by some ornithologists as only
varieties), and a dove--all analogous to, but distinct from,
American species. Fourthly a swallow, which though differing from
the Progne purpurea of both Americas, only in being rather duller
coloured, smaller, and slenderer, is considered by Mr. Gould as
specifically distinct. Fifthly there are three species of
mocking-thrush--a form highly characteristic of America. The
remaining land-birds form a most singular group of finches,
related to each other in the structure of their beaks, short
tails, form of body and plumage: there are thirteen species which
Mr. Gould has divided into four sub-groups. All these species are
peculiar to this archipelago; and so is the whole group, with the
exception of one species of the sub-group Cactornis, lately
brought from Bow Island, in the Low Archipelago. Of Cactornis the
two species may be often seen climbing about the flowers of the
great cactus-trees; but all the other species of this group of
finches, mingled together in flocks, feed on the dry and sterile
ground of the lower districts. The males of all, or certainly of
the greater number, are jet black; and the females (with perhaps
one or two exceptions) are brown.

(PLATE 81.  FINCHES FROM GALAPAGOS ARCHIPELAGO.
1. Geospiza magnirostris.
2. Geospiza fortis.
3. Geospiza parvula.
4. Certhidea olivasea.)

The most curious fact is the perfect gradation in the size of the
beaks in the different species of Geospiza, from one as large as
that of a hawfinch to that of a chaffinch, and (if Mr. Gould is
right in including his sub-group, Certhidea, in the main group)
even to that of a warbler. The largest beak in the genus Geospiza
is shown in (Plate 81) Figure 1, and the smallest in Figure 3;
but instead of there being only one intermediate species, with a
beak of the size shown in Figure 2, there are no less than six
species with insensibly graduated beaks. The beak of the
sub-group Certhidea, is shown in Figure 4. The beak of Cactornis
is somewhat like that of a starling, and that of the fourth
sub-group, Camarhynchus, is slightly parrot-shaped. Seeing this
gradation and diversity of structure in one small, intimately
related group of birds, one might really fancy that from an
original paucity of birds in this archipelago, one species had
been taken and modified for different ends. In a like manner it
might be fancied that a bird, originally a buzzard, had been
induced here to undertake the office of the carrion-feeding
Polybori of the American continent.

Of waders and water-birds I was able to get only eleven kinds,
and of these only three (including a rail confined to the damp
summits of the islands) are new species. Considering the
wandering habits of the gulls, I was surprised to find that the
species inhabiting these islands is peculiar, but allied to one
from the southern parts of South America. The far greater
peculiarity of the land-birds, namely, twenty-five out of
twenty-six being new species, or at least new races, compared
with the waders and web-footed birds, is in accordance with the
greater range which these latter orders have in all parts of the
world. We shall hereafter see this law of aquatic forms, whether
marine or fresh water, being less peculiar at any given point of
the earth's surface than the terrestrial forms of the same
classes, strikingly illustrated in the shells, and in a lesser
degree in the insects of this archipelago.

Two of the waders are rather smaller than the same species
brought from other places: the swallow is also smaller, though it
is doubtful whether or not it is distinct from its analogue. The
two owls, the two tyrant-flycatchers (Pyrocephalus) and the dove,
are also smaller than the analogous but distinct species, to
which they are most nearly related; on the other hand, the gull
is rather larger. The two owls, the swallow, all three species of
mocking-thrush, the dove in its separate colours though not in
its whole plumage, the Totanus, and the gull, are likewise
duskier coloured than their analogous species; and in the case of
the mocking-thrush and Totanus, than any other species of the two
genera. With the exception of a wren with a fine yellow breast,
and of a tyrant-flycatcher with a scarlet tuft and breast, none
of the birds are brilliantly coloured, as might have been
expected in an equatorial district. Hence it would appear
probable that the same causes which here make the immigrants of
some species smaller, make most of the peculiar Galapageian
species also smaller, as well as very generally more dusky
coloured. All the plants have a wretched, weedy appearance, and I
did not see one beautiful flower. The insects, again, are
small-sized and dull coloured, and, as Mr. Waterhouse informs me,
there is nothing in their general appearance which would have led
him to imagine that they had come from under the equator. (17/1.
The progress of research has shown that some of these birds,
which were then thought to be confined to the islands, occur on
the American continent. The eminent ornithologist, Mr. Sclater,
informs me that this is the case with the Strix punctatissima and
Pyrocephalus nanus; and probably with the Otus galapagoensis and
Zenaida galapagoensis: so that the number of endemic birds is
reduced to twenty-three, or probably to twenty-one. Mr. Sclater
thinks that one or two of these endemic forms should be ranked
rather as varieties than species, which always seemed to me
probable.) The birds, plants, and insects have a desert
character, and are not more brilliantly coloured than those from
southern Patagonia; we may, therefore, conclude that the usual
gaudy colouring of the intertropical productions is not related
either to the heat or light of those zones, but to some other
cause, perhaps to the conditions of existence being generally
favourable to life.

We will now turn to the order of reptiles, which gives the most
striking character to the zoology of these islands. The species
are not numerous, but the numbers of individuals of each species
are extraordinarily great. There is one small lizard belonging to
a South American genus, and two species (and probably more) of
the Amblyrhynchus--a genus confined to the Galapagos Islands.
There is one snake which is numerous; it is identical, as I am
informed by M. Bibron, with the Psammophis Temminckii from Chile.
(17/2. This is stated by Dr. Gunther "Zoological Society" January
24, 1859, to be a peculiar species, not known to inhabit any
other country.) Of sea-turtle I believe there are more than one
species, and of tortoises there are, as we shall presently show,
two or three species or races. Of toads and frogs there are none:
I was surprised at this, considering how well suited for them the
temperate and damp upper woods appeared to be. It recalled to my
mind the remark made by Bory St. Vincent, namely, that none of
this family are found on any of the volcanic islands in the great
oceans. (17/3. "Voyage aux Quatres Iles d'Afrique." With respect
to the Sandwich Islands see Tyerman and Bennett's "Journal"
volume 1 page 434. For Mauritius see "Voyage par un Officier"
etc. Part 1 page 170. There are no frogs in the Canary Islands,
Webb et Berthelot "Hist. Nat. des Iles Canaries." I saw none at
St. Jago in the Cape de Verds. There are none at St. Helena.) As
far as I can ascertain from various works, this seems to hold
good throughout the Pacific, and even in the large islands of the
Sandwich archipelago. Mauritius offers an apparent exception,
where I saw the Rana Mascariensis in abundance: this frog is said
now to inhabit the Seychelles, Madagascar, and Bourbon; but on
the other hand, Du Bois, in his voyage in 1669, states that there
were no reptiles in Bourbon except tortoises; and the Officier du
Roi asserts that before 1768 it had been attempted, without
success, to introduce frogs into Mauritius--I presume for the
purpose of eating: hence it may be well doubted whether this frog
is an aboriginal of these islands. The absence of the frog family
in the oceanic islands is the more remarkable, when contrasted
with the case of lizards, which swarm on most of the smallest
islands. May this difference not be caused by the greater
facility with which the eggs of lizards, protected by calcareous
shells, might be transported through salt-water, than could the
slimy spawn of frogs?

I will first describe the habits of the tortoise (Testudo nigra,
formerly called Indica), which has been so frequently alluded to.
These animals are found, I believe, on all the islands of the
Archipelago; certainly on the greater number. They frequent in
preference the high damp parts, but they likewise live in the
lower and arid districts. I have already shown, from the numbers
which have been caught in a single day, how very numerous they
must be. Some grow to an immense size: Mr. Lawson, an Englishman,
and vice-governor of the colony, told us that he had seen several
so large that it required six or eight men to lift them from the
ground; and that some had afforded as much as two hundred pounds
of meat. The old males are the largest, the females rarely
growing to so great a size: the male can readily be distinguished
from the female by the greater length of its tail. The tortoises
which live on those islands where there is no water, or in the
lower and arid parts of the others, feed chiefly on the succulent
cactus. Those which frequent the higher and damp regions eat the
leaves of various trees, a kind of berry (called guayavita) which
is acid and austere, and likewise a pale green filamentous lichen
(Usnera plicata), that hangs from the boughs of the trees.

The tortoise is very fond of water, drinking large quantities,
and wallowing in the mud. The larger islands alone possess
springs, and these are always situated towards the central parts,
and at a considerable height. The tortoises, therefore, which
frequent the lower districts, when thirsty, are obliged to travel
from a long distance. Hence broad and well-beaten paths branch
off in every direction from the wells down to the sea-coast; and
the Spaniards, by following them up, first discovered the
watering-places. When I landed at Chatham Island, I could not
imagine what animal travelled so methodically along well-chosen
tracks. Near the springs it was a curious spectacle to behold
many of these huge creatures, one set eagerly travelling onwards
with outstretched necks, and another set returning, after having
drunk their fill. When the tortoise arrives at the spring, quite
regardless of any spectator, he buries his head in the water
above his eyes, and greedily swallows great mouthfuls, at the
rate of about ten in a minute. The inhabitants say each animal
stays three or four days in the neighbourhood of the water, and
then returns to the lower country; but they differed respecting
the frequency of these visits. The animal probably regulates them
according to the nature of the food on which it has lived. It is,
however, certain that tortoises can subsist even on those islands
where there is no other water than what falls during a few rainy
days in the year.

I believe it is well ascertained that the bladder of the frog
acts as a reservoir for the moisture necessary to its existence:
such seems to be the case with the tortoise. For some time after
a visit to the springs, their urinary bladders are distended with
fluid, which is said gradually to decrease in volume, and to
become less pure. The inhabitants, when walking in the lower
district, and overcome with thirst, often take advantage of this
circumstance, and drink the contents of the bladder if full: in
one I saw killed, the fluid was quite limpid, and had only a very
slightly bitter taste. The inhabitants, however, always first
drink the water in the pericardium, which is described as being
best.

The tortoises, when purposely moving towards any point, travel by
night and day and arrive at their journey's end much sooner than
would be expected. The inhabitants, from observing marked
individuals, consider that they travel a distance of about eight
miles in two or three days. One large tortoise, which I watched,
walked at the rate of sixty yards in ten minutes, that is 360
yards in the hour, or four miles a day,--allowing a little time
for it to eat on the road. During the breeding season, when the
male and female are together, the male utters a hoarse roar or
bellowing, which, it is said, can be heard at the distance of
more than a hundred yards. The female never uses her voice, and
the male only at these times; so that when the people hear this
noise, they know that the two are together. They were at this
time (October) laying their eggs. The female, where the soil is
sandy, deposits them together, and covers them up with sand; but
where the ground is rocky she drops them indiscriminately in any
hole: Mr. Bynoe found seven placed in a fissure. The egg is white
and spherical; one which I measured was seven inches and
three-eighths in circumference, and therefore larger than a hen's
egg. The young tortoises, as soon as they are hatched, fall a
prey in great numbers to the carrion-feeding buzzard. The old
ones seem generally to die from accidents, as from falling down
precipices: at least, several of the inhabitants told me that
they never found one dead without some evident cause.

The inhabitants believe that these animals are absolutely deaf;
certainly they do not overhear a person walking close behind
them. I was always amused when overtaking one of these great
monsters, as it was quietly pacing along, to see how suddenly,
the instant I passed, it would draw in its head and legs, and
uttering a deep hiss fall to the ground with a heavy sound, as if
struck dead. I frequently got on their backs, and then giving a
few raps on the hinder part of their shells, they would rise up
and walk away;--but I found it very difficult to keep my balance.
The flesh of this animal is largely employed, both fresh and
salted; and a beautifully clear oil is prepared from the fat.
When a tortoise is caught, the man makes a slit in the skin near
its tail, so as to see inside its body, whether the fat under the
dorsal plate is thick. If it is not, the animal is liberated; and
it is said to recover soon from this strange operation. In order
to secure the tortoises, it is not sufficient to turn them like
turtle, for they are often able to get on their legs again.

There can be little doubt that this tortoise is an aboriginal
inhabitant of the Galapagos; for it is found on all, or nearly
all, the islands, even on some of the smaller ones where there is
no water; had it been an imported species this would hardly have
been the case in a group which has been so little frequented.
Moreover, the old Bucaniers found this tortoise in greater
numbers even than at present: Wood and Rogers also, in 1708, say
that it is the opinion of the Spaniards that it is found nowhere
else in this quarter of the world. It is now widely distributed;
but it may be questioned whether it is in any other place an
aboriginal. The bones of a tortoise at Mauritius, associated with
those of the extinct Dodo, have generally been considered as
belonging to this tortoise; if this had been so, undoubtedly it
must have been there indigenous; but M. Bibron informs me that he
believes that it was distinct, as the species now living there
certainly is.

(PLATE 82.  AMBLYRHYNCHUS CRISTATUS.
a. Tooth of natural size, and likewise magnified.)

The Amblyrhynchus, a remarkable genus of lizards, is confined to
this archipelago; there are two species, resembling each other in
general form, one being terrestrial and the other aquatic. This
latter species (A. cristatus) was first characterised by Mr.
Bell, who well foresaw, from its short, broad head, and strong
claws of equal length, that its habits of life would turn out
very peculiar, and different from those of its nearest ally, the
Iguana. It is extremely common on all the islands throughout the
group, and lives exclusively on the rocky sea-beaches, being
never found, at least I never saw one, even ten yards in-shore.
It is a hideous-looking creature, of a dirty black colour,
stupid, and sluggish in its movements. The usual length of a
full-grown one is about a yard, but there are some even four feet
long; a large one weighed twenty pounds: on the island of
Albemarle they seem to grow to a greater size than elsewhere.
Their tails are flattened sideways, and all four feet partially
webbed. They are occasionally seen some hundred yards from the
shore, swimming about; and Captain Collnett, in his Voyage says,
"They go to sea in herds a-fishing, and sun themselves on the
rocks; and may be called alligators in miniature." It must not,
however, be supposed that they live on fish. When in the water
this lizard swims with perfect ease and quickness, by a
serpentine movement of its body and flattened tail--the legs
being motionless and closely collapsed on its sides. A seaman on
board sank one, with a heavy weight attached to it, thinking thus
to kill it directly; but when, an hour afterwards, he drew up the
line, it was quite active. Their limbs and strong claws are
admirably adapted for crawling over the rugged and fissured
masses of lava which everywhere form the coast. In such
situations a group of six or seven of these hideous reptiles may
oftentimes be seen on the black rocks, a few feet above the surf,
basking in the sun with outstretched legs.

I opened the stomachs of several, and found them largely
distended with minced sea-weed (Ulvae), which grows in thin
foliaceous expansions of a bright green or a dull red colour. I
do not recollect having observed this sea-weed in any quantity on
the tidal rocks; and I have reason to believe it grows at the
bottom of the sea, at some little distance from the coast. If
such be the case, the object of these animals occasionally going
out to sea is explained. The stomach contained nothing but the
sea-weed. Mr. Bynoe, however, found a piece of a crab in one; but
this might have got in accidentally, in the same manner as I have
seen a caterpillar, in the midst of some lichen, in the paunch of
a tortoise. The intestines were large, as in other herbivorous
animals. The nature of this lizard's food, as well as the
structure of its tail and feet, and the fact of its having been
seen voluntarily swimming out at sea, absolutely prove its
aquatic habits; yet there is in this respect one strange anomaly,
namely, that when frightened it will not enter the water. Hence
it is easy to drive these lizards down to any little point
overhanging the sea, where they will sooner allow a person to
catch hold of their tails than jump into the water. They do not
seem to have any notion of biting; but when much frightened they
squirt a drop of fluid from each nostril. I threw one several
times as far as I could, into a deep pool left by the retiring
tide; but it invariably returned in a direct line to the spot
where I stood. It swam near the bottom, with a very graceful and
rapid movement, and occasionally aided itself over the uneven
ground with its feet. As soon as it arrived near the edge, but
still being under water, it tried to conceal itself in the tufts
of sea-weed, or it entered some crevice. As soon as it thought
the danger was past, it crawled out on the dry rocks, and
shuffled away as quickly as it could. I several times caught this
same lizard, by driving it down to a point, and though possessed
of such perfect powers of diving and swimming, nothing would
induce it to enter the water; and as often as I threw it in, it
returned in the manner above described. Perhaps this singular
piece of apparent stupidity may be accounted for by the
circumstance that this reptile has no enemy whatever on shore,
whereas at sea it must often fall a prey to the numerous sharks.
Hence, probably, urged by a fixed and hereditary instinct that
the shore is its place of safety, whatever the emergency may be,
it there takes refuge.

During our visit (in October) I saw extremely few small
individuals of this species, and none I should think under a year
old. From this circumstance it seems probable that the breeding
season had not then commenced. I asked several of the inhabitants
if they knew where it laid its eggs: they said that they knew
nothing of its propagation, although well acquainted with the
eggs of the land kind--a fact, considering how very common this
lizard is, not a little extraordinary.

    We will now turn to the terrestrial species (A. Demarlii),
with a round tail, and toes without webs. This lizard, instead of
being found like the other on all the islands, is confined to the
central part of the archipelago, namely to Albemarle, James,
Barrington, and Indefatigable islands. To the southward, in
Charles, Hood, and Chatham Islands, and to the northward, in
Towers, Bindloes, and Abingdon, I neither saw nor heard of any.
It would appear as if it had been created in the centre of the
archipelago, and thence had been dispersed only to a certain
distance. Some of these lizards inhabit the high and damp parts
of the islands, but they are much more numerous in the lower and
sterile districts near the coast. I cannot give a more forcible
proof of their numbers, than by stating that when we were left at
James Island, we could not for some time find a spot free from
their burrows on which to pitch our single tent. Like their
brothers the sea-kind, they are ugly animals, of a yellowish
orange beneath, and of a brownish-red colour above: from their
low facial angle they have a singularly stupid appearance. They
are, perhaps, of a rather less size than the marine species; but
several of them weighed between ten and fifteen pounds. In their
movements they are lazy and half torpid. When not frightened,
they slowly crawl along with their tails and bellies dragging on
the ground. They often stop, and doze for a minute or two, with
closed eyes and hind legs spread out on the parched soil.


They inhabit burrows which they sometimes make between fragments
of lava, but more generally on level patches of the soft
sandstone-like tuff. The holes do not appear to be very deep, and
they enter the ground at a small angle; so that when walking over
these lizard-warrens, the soil is constantly giving way, much to
the annoyance of the tired walker. This animal, when making its
burrow, works alternately the opposite sides of its body. One
front leg for a short time scratches up the soil, and throws it
towards the hind foot, which is well placed so as to heave it
beyond the mouth of the hole. That side of the body being tired,
the other takes up the task, and so on alternately. I watched one
for a long time, till half its body was buried; I then walked up
and pulled it by the tail; at this it was greatly astonished, and
soon shuffled up to see what was the matter; and then stared me
in the face, as much as to say, "What made you pull my tail?"

They feed by day, and do not wander far from their burrows; if
frightened, they rush to them with a most awkward gait. Except
when running down hill, they cannot move very fast, apparently
from the lateral position of their legs. They are not at all
timorous: when attentively watching any one, they curl their
tails, and, raising themselves on their front legs, nod their
heads vertically, with a quick movement, and try to look very
fierce; but in reality they are not at all so: if one just stamps
on the ground, down go their tails, and off they shuffle as
quickly as they can. I have frequently observed small fly-eating
lizards, when watching anything, nod their heads in precisely the
same manner; but I do not at all know for what purpose. If this
Amblyrhynchus is held and plagued with a stick, it will bite it
very severely; but I caught many by the tail, and they never
tried to bite me. If two are placed on the ground and held
together, they will fight, and bite each other till blood is
drawn.

The individuals, and they are the greater number, which inhabit
the lower country, can scarcely taste a drop of water throughout
the year; but they consume much of the succulent cactus, the
branches of which are occasionally broken off by the wind. I
several times threw a piece to two or three of them when
together; and it was amusing enough to see them trying to seize
and carry it away in their mouths, like so many hungry dogs with
a bone. They eat very deliberately, but do not chew their food.
The little birds are aware how harmless these creatures are: I
have seen one of the thick-billed finches picking at one end of a
piece of cactus (which is much relished by all the animals of the
lower region), whilst a lizard was eating at the other end; and
afterwards the little bird with the utmost indifference hopped on
the back of the reptile.

I opened the stomachs of several, and found them full of
vegetable fibres and leaves of different trees, especially of an
acacia. In the upper region they live chiefly on the acid and
astringent berries of the guayavita, under which trees I have
seen these lizards and the huge tortoises feeding together. To
obtain the acacia-leaves they crawl up the low stunted trees; and
it is not uncommon to see a pair quietly browsing, whilst seated
on a branch several feet above the ground. These lizards, when
cooked, yield a white meat, which is liked by those whose
stomachs soar above all prejudices. Humboldt has remarked that in
intertropical South America all lizards which inhabit dry regions
are esteemed delicacies for the table. The inhabitants state that
those which inhabit the upper damp parts drink water, but that
the others do not, like the tortoises, travel up for it from the
lower sterile country. At the time of our visit, the females had
within their bodies numerous, large, elongated eggs, which they
lay in their burrows: the inhabitants seek them for food.

These two species of Amblyrhynchus agree, as I have already
stated, in their general structure, and in many of their habits.
Neither have that rapid movement, so characteristic of the genera
Lacerta and Iguana. They are both herbivorous, although the kind
of vegetation on which they feed is so very different. Mr. Bell
has given the name to the genus from the shortness of the snout:
indeed, the form of the mouth may almost be compared to that of
the tortoise: one is led to suppose that this is an adaptation to
their herbivorous appetites. It is very interesting thus to find
a well-characterised genus, having its marine and terrestrial
species, belonging to so confined a portion of the world. The
aquatic species is by far the most remarkable, because it is the
only existing lizard which lives on marine vegetable productions.
As I at first observed, these islands are not so remarkable for
the number of the species of reptiles, as for that of the
individuals, when we remember the well-beaten paths made by the
thousands of huge tortoises--the many turtles--the great warrens
of the terrestrial Amblyrhynchus--and the groups of the marine
species basking on the coast-rocks of every island--we must admit
that there is no other quarter of the world where this Order
replaces the herbivorous mammalia in so extraordinary a manner.
The geologist on hearing this will probably refer back in his
mind to the Secondary epochs, when lizards, some herbivorous,
some carnivorous, and of dimensions comparable only with our
existing whales, swarmed on the land and in the sea. It is,
therefore, worthy of his observation that this archipelago,
instead of possessing a humid climate and rank vegetation, cannot
be considered otherwise than extremely arid, and, for an
equatorial region, remarkably temperate.

To finish with the zoology: the fifteen kinds of sea-fish which I
procured here are all new species; they belong to twelve genera,
all widely distributed, with the exception of Prionotus, of which
the four previously known species live on the eastern side of
America. Of land-shells I collected sixteen kinds (and two marked
varieties) of which, with the exception of one Helix found at
Tahiti, all are peculiar to this archipelago: a single
fresh-water shell (Paludina) is common to Tahiti and Van Diemen's
Land. Mr. Cuming, before our voyage, procured here ninety species
of sea-shells, and this does not include several species not yet
specifically examined, of Trochus, Turbo, Monodonta, and Nassa.
He has been kind enough to give me the following interesting
results: of the ninety shells, no less than forty-seven are
unknown elsewhere--a wonderful fact, considering how widely
distributed sea-shells generally are. Of the forty-three shells
found in other parts of the world, twenty-five inhabit the
western coast of America, and of these eight are distinguishable
as varieties; the remaining eighteen (including one variety) were
found by Mr. Cuming in the Low Archipelago, and some of them also
at the Philippines. This fact of shells from islands in the
central parts of the Pacific occurring here, deserves notice, for
not one single sea-shell is known to be common to the islands of
that ocean and to the west coast of America. The space of open
sea running north and south off the west coast separates two
quite distinct conchological provinces; but at the Galapagos
Archipelago we have a halting-place, where many new forms have
been created, and whither these two great conchological provinces
have each sent several colonists. The American province has also
sent here representative species; for there is a Galapageian
species of Monoceros, a genus only found on the west coast of
America; and there are Galapageian species of Fissurella and
Cancellaria, genera common on the west coast, but not found (as I
am informed by Mr. Cuming) in the central islands of the Pacific.
On the other hand, there are Galapageian species of Oniscia and
Stylifer, genera common to the West Indies and to the Chinese and
Indian seas, but not found either on the west coast of America or
in the central Pacific. I may here add, that after the comparison
by Messrs. Cuming and Hinds of about 2000 shells from the eastern
and western coasts of America, only one single shell was found in
common, namely, the Purpura patula, which inhabits the West
Indies, the coast of Panama, and the Galapagos. We have,
therefore, in this quarter of the world, three great
conchological sea-provinces, quite distinct, though surprisingly
near each other, being separated by long north and south spaces
either of land or of open sea.

I took great pains in collecting the insects, but excepting
Tierra del Fuego, I never saw in this respect so poor a country.
Even in the upper and damp region I procured very few, excepting
some minute Diptera and Hymenoptera, mostly of common mundane
forms. As before remarked, the insects, for a tropical region,
are of very small size and dull colours. Of beetles I collected
twenty-five species (excluding a Dermestes and Corynetes imported
wherever a ship touches); of these, two belong to the Harpalidae,
two to the Hydrophilidae, nine to three families of the
Heteromera, and the remaining twelve to as many different
families. This circumstance of insects (and I may add plants),
where few in number, belonging to many different families, is, I
believe, very general. Mr. Waterhouse, who has published an
account of the insects of this archipelago, and to whom I am
indebted for the above details, informs me that there are several
new genera; and that of the genera not new, one or two are
American, and the rest of mundane distribution. (17/4. "Annals
and Magazine of Natural History" volume 16 page 19.) With the
exception of a wood-feeding Apate, and of one or probably two
water-beetles from the American continent, all the species appear
to be new.

The botany of this group is fully as interesting as the zoology.
Dr. J. Hooker will soon publish in the "Linnean Transactions" a
full account of the Flora, and I am much indebted to him for the
following details. Of flowering plants there are, as far as at
present is known, 185 species, and 40 cryptogamic species, making
together 225; of this number I was fortunate enough to bring home
193. Of the flowering plants, 100 are new species, and are
probably confined to this archipelago. Dr. Hooker conceives that,
of the plants not so confined, at least 10 species found near the
cultivated ground at Charles Island have been imported. It is, I
think, surprising that more American species have not been
introduced naturally, considering that the distance is only
between 500 and 600 miles from the continent, and that (according
to Collnet, page 58) drift-wood, bamboos, canes, and the nuts of
a palm, are often washed on the south-eastern shores. The
proportion of 100 flowering plants out of 185 (or 175 excluding
the imported weeds) being new, is sufficient, I conceive, to make
the Galapagos Archipelago a distinct botanical province; but this
Flora is not nearly so peculiar as that of St. Helena, nor, as I
am informed by Dr. Hooker, of Juan Fernandez. The peculiarity of
the Galapageian Flora is best shown in certain families;--thus
there are 21 species of Compositae, of which 20 are peculiar to
this archipelago; these belong to twelve genera, and of these
genera no less than ten are confined to the archipelago! Dr.
Hooker informs me that the Flora has an undoubted Western
American character; nor can he detect in it any affinity with
that of the Pacific. If, therefore, we except the eighteen
marine, the one fresh-water, and one land-shell, which have
apparently come here as colonists from the central islands of the
Pacific, and likewise the one distinct Pacific species of the
Galapageian group of finches, we see that this archipelago,
though standing in the Pacific Ocean, is zoologically part of
America.

If this character were owing merely to immigrants from America,
there would be little remarkable in it; but we see that a vast
majority of all the land animals, and that more than half of the
flowering plants, are aboriginal productions. It was most
striking to be surrounded by new birds, new reptiles, new shells,
new insects, new plants, and yet by innumerable trifling details
of structure, and even by the tones of voice and plumage of the
birds, to have the temperate plains of Patagonia, or the hot dry
deserts of Northern Chile, vividly brought before my eyes. Why,
on these small points of land, which within a late geological
period must have been covered by the ocean, which are formed of
basaltic lava, and therefore differ in geological character from
the American continent, and which are placed under a peculiar
climate,--why were their aboriginal inhabitants, associated, I
may add, in different proportions both in kind and number from
those on the continent, and therefore acting on each other in a
different manner--why were they created on American types of
organisation? It is probable that the islands of the Cape de Verd
group resemble, in all their physical conditions, far more
closely the Galapagos Islands than these latter physically
resemble the coast of America, yet the aboriginal inhabitants of
the two groups are totally unlike; those of the Cape de Verd
Islands bearing the impress of Africa, as the inhabitants of the
Galapagos Archipelago are stamped with that of America.

I have not as yet noticed by far the most remarkable feature in
the natural history of this archipelago; it is, that the
different islands to a considerable extent are inhabited by a
different set of beings. My attention was first called to this
fact by the Vice-Governor, Mr. Lawson, declaring that the
tortoises differed from the different islands, and that he could
with certainty tell from which island any one was brought. I did
not for some time pay sufficient attention to this statement, and
I had already partially mingled together the collections from two
of the islands. I never dreamed that islands, about 50 or 60
miles apart, and most of them in sight of each other, formed of
precisely the same rocks, placed under a quite similar climate,
rising to a nearly equal height, would have been differently
tenanted; but we shall soon see that this is the case. It is the
fate of most voyagers, no sooner to discover what is most
interesting in any locality, than they are hurried from it; but I
ought, perhaps, to be thankful that I obtained sufficient
materials to establish this most remarkable fact in the
distribution of organic beings.

The inhabitants, as I have said, state that they can distinguish
the tortoises from the different islands; and that they differ
not only in size, but in other characters. Captain Porter has
described those from Charles and from the nearest island to it,
namely, Hood Island, as having their shells in front thick and
turned up like a Spanish saddle, whilst the tortoises from James
Island are rounder, blacker, and have a better taste when cooked.
(17/5. "Voyage in the U.S. ship Essex" volume 1 page 215.) M.
Bibron, moreover, informs me that he has seen what he considers
two distinct species of tortoise from the Galapagos, but he does
not know from which islands. The specimens that I brought from
three islands were young ones: and probably owing to this cause
neither Mr. Gray nor myself could find in them any specific
differences. I have remarked that the marine Amblyrhynchus was
larger at Albemarle Island than elsewhere; and M. Bibron informs
me that he has seen two distinct aquatic species of this genus;
so that the different islands probably have their representative
species or races of the Amblyrhynchus, as well as of the
tortoise. My attention was first thoroughly aroused by comparing
together the numerous specimens, shot by myself and several other
parties on board, of the mocking-thrushes, when, to my
astonishment, I discovered that all those from Charles Island
belonged to one species (Mimus trifasciatus) all from Albemarle
Island to M. parvulus; and all from James and Chatham Islands
(between which two other islands are situated, as connecting
links) belonged to M. melanotis. These two latter species are
closely allied, and would by some ornithologists be considered as
only well-marked races or varieties; but the Mimus trifasciatus
is very distinct. Unfortunately most of the specimens of the
finch tribe were mingled together; but I have strong reasons to
suspect that some of the species of the sub-group Geospiza are
confined to separate islands. If the different islands have their
representatives of Geospiza, it may help to explain the
singularly large number of the species of this sub-group in this
one small archipelago, and as a probable consequence of their
numbers, the perfectly graduated series in the size of their
beaks. Two species of the sub-group Cactornis, and two of the
Camarhynchus, were procured in the archipelago; and of the
numerous specimens of these two sub-groups shot by four
collectors at James Island, all were found to belong to one
species of each; whereas the numerous specimens shot either on
Chatham or Charles Island (for the two sets were mingled
together) all belonged to the two other species: hence we may
feel almost sure that these islands possess their representative
species of these two sub-groups. In land-shells this law of
distribution does not appear to hold good. In my very small
collection of insects, Mr. Waterhouse remarks that of those which
were ticketed with their locality, not one was common to any two
of the islands.

If we now turn to the Flora, we shall find the aboriginal plants
of the different islands wonderfully different. I give all the
following results (Table 17/1) on the high authority of my friend
Dr. J. Hooker. I may premise that I indiscriminately collected
everything in flower on the different islands, and fortunately
kept my collections separate. Too much confidence, however, must
not be placed in the proportional results, as the small
collections brought home by some other naturalists though in some
respects confirming the results, plainly show that much remains
to be done in the botany of this group: the Leguminosae,
moreover, have as yet been only approximately worked out:--

TABLE 17/1.

Column 1 : Name of Island.

Column 2 : Total Number of species. 

Column 3 : Number of species found in other parts of the world.

Column 4 : Number of Species confined to the Galapagos
Archipelago.

Column 5 : Number confined to the one island.

Column 6 : Number of Species confined to the Galapagos
Archipelago, but found           on more than the one island.

James     : 71 : 33  : 38 : 30 :  8.
Albemarle : 46 : 18  : 26 : 22 :  4.
Chatham   : 32 : 16  : 16 : 12 :  4.
Charles   : 68 : 39* : 29 : 21 :  8.
               *(or 29, if the probably imported plants be
subtracted.)

Hence we have the truly wonderful fact, that in James Island, of
the thirty-eight Galapageian plants, or those found in no other
part of the world, thirty are exclusively confined to this one
island; and in Albemarle Island, of the twenty-six aboriginal
Galapageian plants, twenty-two are confined to this one island,
that is, only four are at present known to grow in the other
islands of the archipelago; and so on, as shown in the above
table, with the plants from Chatham and Charles Islands. This
fact will, perhaps, be rendered even more striking, by giving a
few illustrations:--thus, Scalesia, a remarkable arborescent
genus of the Compositae, is confined to the archipelago: it has
six species: one from Chatham, one from Albemarle, one from
Charles Island, two from James Island, and the sixth from one of
the three latter islands, but it is not known from which: not one
of these six species grows on any two islands. Again, Euphorbia,
a mundane or widely distributed genus, has here eight species, of
which seven are confined to the archipelago, and not one found on
any two islands: Acalypha and Borreria, both mundane genera, have
respectively six and seven species, none of which have the same
species on two islands, with the exception of one Borreria, which
does occur on two islands. The species of the Compositae are
particularly local; and Dr. Hooker has furnished me with several
other most striking illustrations of the difference of the
species on the different islands. He remarks that this law of
distribution holds good both with those genera confined to the
archipelago, and those distributed in other quarters of the
world: in like manner we have seen that the different islands
have their proper species of the mundane genus of tortoise, and
of the widely distributed American genus of the mocking-thrush,
as well as of two of the Galapageian sub-groups of finches, and
almost certainly of the Galapageian genus Amblyrhynchus.

The distribution of the tenants of this archipelago would not be
nearly so wonderful, if, for instance, one island had a
mocking-thrush, and a second island some other quite distinct
genus;--if one island had its genus of lizard, and a second
island another distinct genus, or none whatever;--or if the
different islands were inhabited, not by representative species
of the same genera of plants, but by totally different genera, as
does to a certain extent hold good; for, to give one instance, a
large berry-bearing tree at James Island has no representative
species in Charles Island. But it is the circumstance that
several of the islands possess their own species of the tortoise,
mocking-thrush, finches, and numerous plants, these species
having the same general habits, occupying analogous situations,
and obviously filling the same place in the natural economy of
this archipelago, that strikes me with wonder. It may be
suspected that some of these representative species, at least in
the case of the tortoise and of some of the birds, may hereafter
prove to be only well-marked races; but this would be of equally
great interest to the philosophical naturalist. I have said that
most of the islands are in sight of each other: I may specify
that Charles Island is fifty miles from the nearest part of
Chatham Island, and thirty-three miles from the nearest part of
Albemarle Island. Chatham Island is sixty miles from the nearest
part of James Island, but there are two intermediate islands
between them which were not visited by me. James Island is only
ten miles from the nearest part of Albemarle Island, but the two
points where the collections were made are thirty-two miles
apart. I must repeat, that neither the nature of the soil, nor
height of the land, nor the climate, nor the general character of
the associated beings, and therefore their action one on another,
can differ much in the different islands. If there be any
sensible difference in their climates, it must be between the
windward group (namely, Charles and Chatham Islands), and that to
leeward; but there seems to be no corresponding difference in the
productions of these two halves of the archipelago.

The only light which I can throw on this remarkable difference in
the inhabitants of the different islands is that very strong
currents of the sea running in a westerly and west-north-westerly
direction must separate, as far as transportal by the sea is
concerned, the southern islands from the northern ones; and
between these northern islands a strong north-west current was
observed, which must effectually separate James and Albemarle
Islands. As the archipelago is free to a most remarkable degree
from gales of wind, neither the birds, insects, nor lighter
seeds, would be blown from island to island. And lastly, the
profound depth of the ocean between the islands, and their
apparently recent (in a geological sense) volcanic origin, render
it highly unlikely that they were ever united; and this,
probably, is a far more important consideration than any other
with respect to the geographical distribution of their
inhabitants. Reviewing the facts here given, one is astonished at
the amount of creative force, if such an expression may be used,
displayed on these small, barren, and rocky islands; and still
more so, at its diverse yet analogous action on points so near
each other. I have said that the Galapagos Archipelago might be
called a satellite attached to America, but it should rather be
called a group of satellites, physically similar, organically
distinct, yet intimately related to each other, and all related
in a marked though much lesser degree, to the great American
continent.

I will conclude my description of the natural history of these
islands by giving an account of the extreme tameness of the
birds.

This disposition is common to all the terrestrial species;
namely, to the mocking-thrushes, the finches, wrens,
tyrant-flycatchers, the dove, and carrion-buzzard. All of them
often approached sufficiently near to be killed with a switch,
and sometimes, as I myself tried, with a cap or hat. A gun is
here almost superfluous; for with the muzzle I pushed a hawk off
the branch of a tree. One day, whilst lying down, a
mocking-thrush alighted on the edge of a pitcher, made of the
shell of a tortoise, which I held in my hand, and began very
quietly to sip the water; it allowed me to lift it from the
ground whilst seated on the vessel: I often tried, and very
nearly succeeded, in catching these birds by their legs. Formerly
the birds appear to have been even tamer than at present. Cowley
(in the year 1684) says that the "Turtledoves were so tame, that
they would often alight on our hats and arms, so as that we could
take them alive: they not fearing man, until such time as some of
our company did fire at them, whereby they were rendered more
shy." Dampier also, in the same year, says that a man in a
morning's walk might kill six or seven dozen of these doves. At
present, although certainly very tame, they do not alight on
people's arms, nor do they suffer themselves to be killed in such
large numbers. It is surprising that they have not become wilder;
for these islands during the last hundred and fifty years have
been frequently visited by bucaniers and whalers; and the
sailors, wandering through the wood in search of tortoises,
always take cruel delight in knocking down the little birds.

These birds, although now still more persecuted, do not readily
become wild: in Charles Island, which had then been colonised
about six years, I saw a boy sitting by a well with a switch in
his hand, with which he killed the doves and finches as they came
to drink. He had already procured a little heap of them for his
dinner, and he said that he had constantly been in the habit of
waiting by this well for the same purpose. It would appear that
the birds of this archipelago, not having as yet learnt that man
is a more dangerous animal than the tortoise or the
Amblyrhynchus, disregard him, in the same manner as in England
shy birds, such as magpies, disregard the cows and horses grazing
in our fields.

The Falkland Islands offer a second instance of birds with a
similar disposition. The extraordinary tameness of the little
Opetiorhynchus has been remarked by Pernety, Lesson, and other
voyagers. It is not, however, peculiar to that bird: the
Polyborus, snipe, upland and lowland goose, thrush, bunting, and
even some true hawks, are all more or less tame. As the birds are
so tame there, where foxes, hawks, and owls occur, we may infer
that the absence of all rapacious animals at the Galapagos is not
the cause of their tameness here. The upland geese at the
Falklands show, by the precaution they take in building on the
islets, that they are aware of their danger from the foxes; but
they are not by this rendered wild towards man. This tameness of
the birds, especially of the waterfowl, is strongly contrasted
with the habits of the same species in Tierra del Fuego, where
for ages past they have been persecuted by the wild inhabitants.
In the Falklands, the sportsman may sometimes kill more of the
upland geese in one day than he can carry home; whereas in Tierra
del Fuego it is nearly as difficult to kill one as it is in
England to shoot the common wild goose.

In the time of Pernety (1763) all the birds there appear to have
been much tamer than at present; he states that the
Opetiorhynchus would almost perch on his finger; and that with a
wand he killed ten in half an hour. At that period the birds must
have been about as tame as they now are at the Galapagos. They
appear to have learnt caution more slowly at these latter islands
than at the Falklands, where they have had proportionate means of
experience; for besides frequent visits from vessels, those
islands have been at intervals colonised during the entire
period. Even formerly, when all the birds were so tame, it was
impossible by Pernety's account to kill the black-necked swan--a
bird of passage, which probably brought with it the wisdom learnt
in foreign countries.

I may add that, according to Du Bois, all the birds at Bourbon in
1571-72, with the exception of the flamingoes and geese, were so
extremely tame, that they could be caught by the hand, or killed
in any number with a stick. Again, at Tristan d'Acunha in the
Atlantic, Carmichael states that the only two land-birds, a
thrush and a bunting, were "so tame as to suffer themselves to be
caught with a hand-net." (17/6. "Linnean Transactions" volume 12
page 496. The most anomalous fact on this subject which I have
met with is the wildness of the small birds in the Arctic parts
of North America (as described by Richardson "Fauna Bor." volume
2 page 332), where they are said never to be persecuted. This
case is the more strange, because it is asserted that some of the
same species in their winter-quarters in the United States are
tame. There is much, as Dr. Richardson well remarks, utterly
inexplicable connected with the different degrees of shyness and
care with which birds conceal their nests. How strange it is that
the English wood-pigeon, generally so wild a bird, should very
frequently rear its young in shrubberies close to houses!) From
these several facts we may, I think, conclude, first, that the
wildness of birds with regard to man is a particular instinct
directed against HIM, and not dependent upon any general degree
of caution arising from other sources of danger; secondly, that
it is not acquired by individual birds in a short time, even when
much persecuted; but that in the course of successive generations
it becomes hereditary. With domesticated animals we are
accustomed to see new mental habits or instincts acquired and
rendered hereditary; but with animals in a state of nature it
must always be most difficult to discover instances of acquired
hereditary knowledge. In regard to the wildness of birds towards
man, there is no way of accounting for it, except as an inherited
habit: comparatively few young birds, in any one year, have been
injured by man in England, yet almost all, even nestlings, are
afraid of him; many individuals, on the other hand, both at the
Galapagos and at the Falklands, have been pursued and injured by
man, but yet have not learned a salutary dread of him. We may
infer from these facts, what havoc the introduction of any new
beast of prey must cause in a country, before the instincts of
the indigenous inhabitants have become adapted to the stranger's
craft or power.

(PLATE 83.  OPUNTIA GALAPAGEIA, JAMES ISLAND. C. DARWIN'S SKETCH.
Stem 6 to 10 feet. Diameter 1 foot.)


CHAPTER XVIII.

(PLATE 84.  AVA OR KAVA (Macropiper methysticum), TAHITI.)

TAHITI AND NEW ZEALAND.

Pass through the Low Archipelago.
Tahiti.
Aspect.
Vegetation on the mountains.
View of Eimeo.
Excursion into the interior.
Profound ravines.
Succession of waterfalls.
Number of wild useful plants.
Temperance of the inhabitants.
Their moral state.
Parliament convened.
New Zealand.
Bay of islands.
Hippahs.
Excursion to Waimate.
Missionary establishment.
English weeds now run wild.
Waiomio.
Funeral of a New Zealand woman.
Sail for Australia.

OCTOBER 20, 1835.

The survey of the Galapagos Archipelago being concluded, we
steered towards Tahiti and commenced our long passage of 3200
miles. In the course of a few days we sailed out of the gloomy
and clouded ocean-district which extends during the winter far
from the coast of South America. We then enjoyed bright and clear
weather, while running pleasantly along at the rate of 150 or 160
miles a day before the steady trade-wind. The temperature in this
more central part of the Pacific is higher than near the American
shore. The thermometer in the poop cabin, by night and day,
ranged between 80 and 83 degrees, which feels very pleasant; but
with one degree or two higher, the heat becomes oppressive. We
passed through the Low or Dangerous Archipelago, and saw several
of those most curious rings of coral land, just rising above the
water's edge, which have been called Lagoon Islands. A long and
brilliantly-white beach is capped by a margin of green
vegetation; and the strip, looking either way, rapidly narrows
away in the distance, and sinks beneath the horizon. From the
mast-head a wide expanse of smooth water can be seen within the
ring. These low hollow coral islands bear no proportion to the
vast ocean out of which they abruptly rise; and it seems
wonderful that such weak invaders are not overwhelmed by the
all-powerful and never-tiring waves of that great sea, miscalled
the Pacific.

NOVEMBER 15, 1835.

At daylight, Tahiti, an island which must for ever remain
classical to the voyager in the South Sea, was in view. At a
distance the appearance was not attractive. The luxuriant
vegetation of the lower part could not yet be seen, and as the
clouds rolled past, the wildest and most precipitous peaks showed
themselves towards the centre of the island. As soon as we
anchored in Matavai Bay, we were surrounded by canoes. This was
our Sunday, but the Monday of Tahiti: if the case had been
reversed, we should not have received a single visit; for the
injunction not to launch a canoe on the Sabbath is rigidly
obeyed. After dinner we landed to enjoy all the delights produced
by the first impressions of a new country, and that country the
charming Tahiti. A crowd of men, women, and children, was
collected on the memorable Point Venus, ready to receive us with
laughing, merry faces. They marshalled us towards the house of
Mr. Wilson, the missionary of the district, who met us on the
road, and gave us a very friendly reception. After sitting a
short time in his house, we separated to walk about, but returned
there in the evening.

The land capable of cultivation is scarcely in any part more than
a fringe of low alluvial soil, accumulated round the base of the
mountains, and protected from the waves of the sea by a coral
reef, which encircles the entire line of coast. Within the reef
there is an expanse of smooth water, like that of a lake, where
the canoes of the natives can ply with safety and where ships
anchor. The low land which comes down to the beach of coral-sand
is covered by the most beautiful productions of the intertropical
regions. In the midst of bananas, orange, cocoa-nut, and
bread-fruit trees, spots are cleared where yams, sweet potatoes,
the sugar-cane, and pine-apples are cultivated. Even the
brushwood is an imported fruit-tree, namely, the guava, which
from its abundance has become as noxious as a weed. In Brazil I
have often admired the varied beauty of the bananas, palms, and
orange-trees contrasted together; and here we also have the
bread-fruit, conspicuous from its large, glossy, and deeply
digitated leaf. It is admirable to behold groves of a tree,
sending forth its branches with the vigour of an English oak,
loaded with large and most nutritious fruit. However seldom the
usefulness of an object can account for the pleasure of beholding
it, in the case of these beautiful woods, the knowledge of their
high productiveness no doubt enters largely into the feeling of
admiration. The little winding paths, cool from the surrounding
shade, led to the scattered houses; the owners of which
everywhere gave us a cheerful and most hospitable reception.

I was pleased with nothing so much as with the inhabitants. There
is a mildness in the expression of their countenances which at
once banishes the idea of a savage; and an intelligence which
shows that they are advancing in civilisation. The common people,
when working, keep the upper part of their bodies quite naked;
and it is then that the Tahitians are seen to advantage. They are
very tall, broad-shouldered, athletic, and well-proportioned. It
has been remarked that it requires little habit to make a dark
skin more pleasing and natural to the eye of a European than his
own colour. A white man bathing by the side of a Tahitian was
like a plant bleached by the gardener's art compared with a fine
dark green one growing vigorously in the open fields. Most of the
men are tattooed, and the ornaments follow the curvature of the
body so gracefully that they have a very elegant effect. One
common pattern, varying in its details, is somewhat like the
crown of a palm-tree. It springs from the central line of the
back, and gracefully curls round both sides. The simile may be a
fanciful one, but I thought the body of a man thus ornamented was
like the trunk of a noble tree embraced by a delicate creeper.

Many of the elder people had their feet covered with small
figures, so placed as to resemble a sock. This fashion, however,
is partly gone by, and has been succeeded by others. Here,
although fashion is far from immutable, every one must abide by
that prevailing in his youth. An old man has thus his age for
ever stamped on his body, and he cannot assume the airs of a
young dandy. The women are tattooed in the same manner as the
men, and very commonly on their fingers. One unbecoming fashion
is now almost universal: namely, shaving the hair from the upper
part of the head, in a circular form, so as to leave only an
outer ring. The missionaries have tried to persuade the people to
change this habit; but it is the fashion, and that is a
sufficient answer at Tahiti, as well as at Paris. I was much
disappointed in the personal appearance of the women: they are
far inferior in every respect to the men. The custom of wearing a
white or scarlet flower in the back of the head, or through a
small hole in each ear, is pretty. A crown of woven cocoa-nut
leaves is also worn as a shade for the eyes. The women appear to
be in greater want of some becoming costume even than the men.

Nearly all the natives understand a little English--that is, they
know the names of common things; and by the aid of this, together
with signs, a lame sort of conversation could be carried on. In
returning in the evening to the boat, we stopped to witness a
very pretty scene. Numbers of children were playing on the beach,
and had lighted bonfires which illumined the placid sea and
surrounding trees; others, in circles, were singing Tahitian
verses. We seated ourselves on the sand, and joined their party.
The songs were impromptu, and I believe related to our arrival:
one little girl sang a line, which the rest took up in parts,
forming a very pretty chorus. The whole scene made us
unequivocally aware that we were seated on the shores of an
island in the far-famed South Sea.

NOVEMBER 17, 1835.

This day is reckoned in the log-book as Tuesday the 17th, instead
of Monday the 16th, owing to our, so far, successful chase of the
sun. Before breakfast the ship was hemmed in by a flotilla of
canoes; and when the natives were allowed to come on board, I
suppose there could not have been less than two hundred. It was
the opinion of every one that it would have been difficult to
have picked out an equal number from any other nation, who would
have given so little trouble. Everybody brought something for
sale: shells were the main article of trade. The Tahitians now
fully understand the value of money, and prefer it to old clothes
or other articles. The various coins, however, of English and
Spanish denomination puzzle them, and they never seemed to think
the small silver quite secure until changed into dollars. Some of
the chiefs have accumulated considerable sums of money. One
chief, not long since, offered 800 dollars (about 160 pounds
sterling) for a small vessel; and frequently they purchase
whale-boats and horses at the rate of from 50 to 100 dollars.

After breakfast I went on shore, and ascended the nearest slope
to a height of between two and three thousand feet. The outer
mountains are smooth and conical, but steep; and the old volcanic
rocks, of which they are formed, have been cut through by many
profound ravines, diverging from the central broken parts of the
island to the coast. Having crossed the narrow low girt of
inhabited and fertile land, I followed a smooth steep ridge
between two of the deep ravines. The vegetation was singular,
consisting almost exclusively of small dwarf ferns, mingled,
higher up, with coarse grass; it was not very dissimilar from
that on some of the Welsh hills, and this so close above the
orchard of tropical plants on the coast was very surprising. At
the highest point which I reached trees again appeared. Of the
three zones of comparative luxuriance, the lower one owes its
moisture, and therefore fertility, to its flatness; for, being
scarcely raised above the level of the sea, the water from the
higher land drains away slowly. The intermediate zone does not,
like the upper one, reach into a damp and cloudy atmosphere, and
therefore remains sterile. The woods in the upper zone are very
pretty, tree-ferns replacing the cocoa-nuts on the coast. It must
not, however, be supposed that these woods at all equal in
splendour the forests of Brazil. The vast number of productions,
which characterise a continent, cannot be expected to occur in an
island.

(PLATE 85.  EIMEO AND BARRIER-REEF.)

From the highest point which I attained there was a good view of
the distant island of Eimeo, dependent on the same sovereign with
Tahiti. On the lofty and broken pinnacles white massive clouds
were piled up, which formed an island in the blue sky, as Eimeo
itself did in the blue ocean. The island, with the exception of
one small gateway, is completely encircled by a reef. At this
distance, a narrow but well-defined brilliantly white line was
alone visible, where the waves first encountered the wall of
coral. The mountains rose abruptly out of the glassy expanse of
the lagoon, included within this narrow white line, outside which
the heaving waters of the ocean were dark-coloured. The view was
striking: it may aptly be compared to a framed engraving, where
the frame represents the breakers, the marginal paper the smooth
lagoon, and the drawing the island itself. When in the evening I
descended from the mountain, a man, whom I had pleased with a
trifling gift, met me, bringing with him hot roasted bananas, a
pine-apple, and cocoa-nuts. After walking under a burning sun, I
do not know anything more delicious than the milk of a young
cocoa-nut. Pine-apples are here so abundant that the people eat
them in the same wasteful manner as we might turnips. They are of
an excellent flavour--perhaps even better than those cultivated
in England; and this I believe is the highest compliment which
can be paid to any fruit. Before going on board, Mr. Wilson
interpreted for me to the Tahitian who had paid me so adroit an
attention, that I wanted him and another man to accompany me on a
short excursion into the mountains.

NOVEMBER 18, 1835.

In the morning I came on shore early, bringing with me some
provisions in a bag, and two blankets for myself and servant.
These were lashed to each end of a long pole, which was
alternately carried by my Tahitian companions on their shoulders.
These men are accustomed thus to carry, for a whole day, as much
as fifty pounds at each end of their poles. I told my guides to
provide themselves with food and clothing; but they said that
there was plenty of food in the mountains, and for clothing, that
their skins were sufficient. Our line of march was the valley of
Tia-auru, down which a river flows into the sea by Point Venus.
This is one of the principal streams in the island, and its
source lies at the base of the loftiest central pinnacles, which
rise to a height of about 7000 feet. The whole island is so
mountainous that the only way to penetrate into the interior is
to follow up the valleys. Our road, at first, lay through woods
which bordered each side of the river; and the glimpses of the
lofty central peaks, seen as through an avenue, with here and
there a waving cocoa-nut tree on one side, were extremely
picturesque. The valley soon began to narrow, and the sides to
grow lofty and more precipitous. After having walked between
three and four hours, we found the width of the ravine scarcely
exceeded that of the bed of the stream. On each hand the walls
were nearly vertical; yet from the soft nature of the volcanic
strata, trees and a rank vegetation sprung from every projecting
ledge. These precipices must have been some thousand feet high;
and the whole formed a mountain gorge far more magnificent than
anything which I had ever before beheld. Until the mid-day sun
stood vertically over the ravine, the air felt cool and damp, but
now it became very sultry. Shaded by a ledge of rock, beneath a
facade of columnar lava, we ate our dinner. My guides had already
procured a dish of small fish and fresh-water prawns. They
carried with them a small net stretched on a hoop; and where the
water was deep and in eddies, they dived, and like otters, with
their eyes open followed the fish into holes and corners, and
thus caught them.

The Tahitians have the dexterity of amphibious animals in the
water. An anecdote mentioned by Ellis shows how much they feel at
home in this element. When a horse was landing for Pomarre in
1817, the slings broke, and it fell into the water; immediately
the natives jumped overboard, and by their cries and vain efforts
at assistance almost drowned it. As soon, however, as it reached
the shore, the whole population took to flight, and tried to hide
themselves from the man-carrying pig, as they christened the
horse.

A little higher up, the river divided itself into three little
streams. The two northern ones were impracticable, owing to a
succession of waterfalls which descended from the jagged summit
of the highest mountain; the other to all appearance was equally
inaccessible, but we managed to ascend it by a most extraordinary
road. The sides of the valley were here nearly precipitous; but,
as frequently happens with stratified rocks, small ledges
projected, which were thickly covered by wild bananas, liliaceous
plants, and other luxuriant productions of the tropics. The
Tahitians, by climbing amongst these ledges, searching for fruit,
had discovered a track by which the whole precipice could be
scaled. The first ascent from the valley was very dangerous; for
it was necessary to pass a steeply inclined face of naked rock by
the aid of ropes which we brought with us. How any person
discovered that this formidable spot was the only point where the
side of the mountain was practicable, I cannot imagine. We then
cautiously walked along one of the ledges till we came to one of
the three streams. This ledge formed a flat spot above which a
beautiful cascade, some hundred feet in height, poured down its
waters, and beneath, another high cascade fell into the main
stream in the valley below. From this cool and shady recess we
made a circuit to avoid the overhanging waterfall. As before, we
followed little projecting ledges, the danger being partly
concealed by the thickness of the vegetation. In passing from one
of the ledges to another there was a vertical wall of rock. One
of the Tahitians, a fine active man, placed the trunk of a tree
against this, climbed up it, and then by the aid of crevices
reached the summit. He fixed the ropes to a projecting point, and
lowered them for our dog and luggage, and then we clambered up
ourselves. Beneath the ledge on which the dead tree was placed,
the precipice must have been five or six hundred feet deep; and
if the abyss had not been partly concealed by the overhanging
ferns and lilies my head would have turned giddy, and nothing
should have induced me to have attempted it. We continued to
ascend, sometimes along ledges, and sometimes along knife-edged
ridges, having on each hand profound ravines. In the Cordillera I
have seen mountains on a far grander scale, but for abruptness
nothing at all comparable with this. In the evening we reached a
flat little spot on the banks of the same stream which we had
continued to follow, and which descends in a chain of waterfalls:
here we bivouacked for the night. On each side of the ravine
there were great beds of the mountain-banana, covered with ripe
fruit. Many of these plants were from twenty to twenty-five feet
high, and from three to four in circumference. By the aid of
strips of bark for rope, the stems of bamboos for rafters, and
the large leaf of the banana for a thatch, the Tahitians in a few
minutes built us an excellent house; and with withered leaves
made a soft bed.

(PLATE 86.  FATAHUA FALL, TAHITI.)

(PLATE 87.  TAHITIAN.)

They then proceeded to make a fire, and cook our evening meal. A
light was procured by rubbing a blunt pointed stick in a groove
made in another, as if with intention of deepening it, until by
the friction the dust became ignited. A peculiarly white and very
light wood (the Hibiscus tiliaceus) is alone used for this
purpose: it is the same which serves for poles to carry any
burden, and for the floating out-riggers to their canoes. The
fire was produced in a few seconds: but to a person who does not
understand the art, it requires, as I found, the greatest
exertion; but at last, to my great pride, I succeeded in igniting
the dust. The Gaucho in the Pampas uses a different method:
taking an elastic stick about eighteen inches long, he presses
one end on his breast, and the other pointed end into a hole in a
piece of wood, and then rapidly turns the curved part like a
carpenter's centre-bit. The Tahitians having made a small fire of
sticks, placed a score of stones of about the size of
cricket-balls, on the burning wood. In about ten minutes the
sticks were consumed, and the stones hot. They had previously
folded up in small parcels of leaves, pieces of beef, fish, ripe
and unripe bananas, and the tops of the wild arum. These green
parcels were laid in a layer between two layers of the hot
stones, and the whole then covered up with earth, so that no
smoke or steam could escape. In about a quarter of an hour the
whole was most deliciously cooked. The choice green parcels were
now laid on a cloth of banana leaves, and with a cocoa-nut shell
we drank the cool water of the running stream; and thus we
enjoyed our rustic meal.

I could not look on the surrounding plants without admiration. On
every side were forests of bananas; the fruit of which, though
serving for food in various ways, lay in heaps decaying on the
ground. In front of us there was an extensive brake of wild
sugar-cane; and the stream was shaded by the dark green knotted
stem of the Ava,--so famous in former days for its powerful
intoxicating effects. I chewed a piece, and found that it had an
acrid and unpleasant taste, which would have induced any one at
once to have pronounced it poisonous. Thanks to the missionaries,
this plant now thrives only in these deep ravines, innocuous to
every one. Close by I saw the wild arum, the roots of which, when
well baked, are good to eat, and the young leaves better than
spinach. There was the wild yam, and a liliaceous plant called
Ti, which grows in abundance, and has a soft brown root, in shape
and size like a huge log of wood: this served us for dessert, for
it is as sweet as treacle, and with a pleasant taste. There were,
moreover, several other wild fruits, and useful vegetables. The
little stream, besides its cool water, produced eels and
crayfish. I did indeed admire this scene, when I compared it with
an uncultivated one in the temperate zones. I felt the force of
the remark that man, at least savage man, with his reasoning
powers only partly developed, is the child of the tropics.

As the evening drew to a close, I strolled beneath the gloomy
shade of the bananas up the course of the stream. My walk was
soon brought to a close by coming to a waterfall between two and
three hundred feet high; and again above this there was another.
I mention all these waterfalls in this one brook to give a
general idea of the inclination of the land. In the little recess
where the water fell, it did not appear that a breath of wind had
ever blown. The thin edges of the great leaves of the banana,
damp with spray, were unbroken, instead of being, as is so
generally the case, split into a thousand shreds. From our
position, almost suspended on the mountain-side, there were
glimpses into the depths of the neighbouring valleys; and the
lofty points of the central mountains, towering up within sixty
degrees of the zenith, hid half the evening sky. Thus seated, it
was a sublime spectacle to watch the shades of night gradually
obscuring the last and highest pinnacles.

Before we laid ourselves down to sleep, the elder Tahitian fell
on his knees, and with closed eyes repeated a long prayer in his
native tongue. He prayed as a Christian should do, with fitting
reverence, and without the fear of ridicule or any ostentation of
piety. At our meals neither of the men would taste food, without
saying beforehand a short grace. Those travellers who think that
a Tahitian prays only when the eyes of the missionary are fixed
on him, should have slept with us that night on the
mountain-side. Before morning it rained very heavily; but the
good thatch of banana-leaves kept us dry.

NOVEMBER 19, 1835.

At daylight my friends, after their morning prayer, prepared an
excellent breakfast in the same manner as in the evening. They
themselves certainly partook of it largely; indeed I never saw
any men eat near so much. I suppose such enormously capacious
stomachs must be the effect of a large part of their diet
consisting of fruit and vegetables which contain, in a given
bulk, a comparatively small portion of nutriment. Unwittingly, I
was the means of my companions breaking, as I afterwards learned,
one of their own laws and resolutions: I took with me a flask of
spirits, which they could not refuse to partake of; but as often
as they drank a little, they put their fingers before their
mouths, and uttered the word "Missionary." About two years ago,
although the use of the ava was prevented, drunkenness from the
introduction of spirits became very prevalent. The missionaries
prevailed on a few good men who saw that their country was
rapidly going to ruin, to join with them in a Temperance Society.
From good sense or shame, all the chiefs and the queen were at
last persuaded to join. Immediately a law was passed that no
spirits should be allowed to be introduced into the island, and
that he who sold and he who bought the forbidden article should
be punished by a fine. With remarkable justice, a certain period
was allowed for stock in hand to be sold, before the law came
into effect. But when it did, a general search was made, in which
even the houses of the missionaries were not exempted, and all
the ava (as the natives call all ardent spirits) was poured on
the ground. When one reflects on the effect of intemperance on
the aborigines of the two Americas, I think it will be
acknowledged that every well-wisher of Tahiti owes no common debt
of gratitude to the missionaries. As long as the little island of
St. Helena remained under the government of the East India
Company, spirits, owing to the great injury they had produced,
were not allowed to be imported; but wine was supplied from the
Cape of Good Hope. It is rather a striking, and not very
gratifying fact, that in the same year that spirits were allowed
to be sold in St. Helena, their use was banished from Tahiti by
the free will of the people.

After breakfast we proceeded on our journey. As my object was
merely to see a little of the interior scenery, we returned by
another track, which descended into the main valley lower down.
For some distance we wound, by a most intricate path, along the
side of the mountain which formed the valley. In the less
precipitous parts we passed through extensive groves of the wild
banana. The Tahitians, with their naked, tattooed bodies, their
heads ornamented with flowers, and seen in the dark shade of
these groves, would have formed a fine picture of man inhabiting
some primeval land. In our descent we followed the line of
ridges; these were exceedingly narrow, and for considerable
lengths steep as a ladder; but all clothed with vegetation. The
extreme care necessary in poising each step rendered the walk
fatiguing. I did not cease to wonder at these ravines and
precipices: when viewing the country from one of the knife-edged
ridges, the point of support was so small that the effect was
nearly the same as it must be from a balloon. In this descent we
had occasion to use the ropes only once, at the point where we
entered the main valley. We slept under the same ledge of rock
where we had dined the day before: the night was fine, but from
the depth and narrowness of the gorge, profoundly dark.

Before actually seeing this country, I found it difficult to
understand two facts mentioned by Ellis; namely, that after the
murderous battles of former times, the survivors on the conquered
side retired into the mountains, where a handful of men could
resist a multitude. Certainly half a dozen men, at the spot where
the Tahitian reared the old tree, could easily have repulsed
thousands. Secondly, that after the introduction of Christianity,
there were wild men who lived in the mountains, and whose
retreats were unknown to the more civilised inhabitants.

NOVEMBER 20, 1835.

In the morning we started early, and reached Matavai at noon. On
the road we met a large party of noble athletic men, going for
wild bananas. I found that the ship, on account of the difficulty
in watering, had moved to the harbour of Papawa, to which place I
immediately walked. This is a very pretty spot. The cove is
surrounded by reefs, and the water as smooth as in a lake. The
cultivated ground, with its beautiful productions, interspersed
with cottages, comes close down to the water's edge.

From the varying accounts which I had read before reaching these
islands, I was very anxious to form, from my own observation, a
judgment of their moral state,--although such judgment would
necessarily be very imperfect. First impressions at all times
very much depend on one's previously acquired ideas. My notions
were drawn from Ellis's "Polynesian Researches"--an admirable and
most interesting work, but naturally looking at everything under
a favourable point of view, from Beechey's "Voyage;" and from
that of Kotzebue, which is strongly adverse to the whole
missionary system. He who compares these three accounts will, I
think, form a tolerably accurate conception of the present state
of Tahiti. One of my impressions, which I took from the two last
authorities, was decidedly incorrect; namely, that the Tahitians
had become a gloomy race, and lived in fear of the missionaries.
Of the latter feeling I saw no trace, unless, indeed, fear and
respect be confounded under one name. Instead of discontent being
a common feeling, it would be difficult in Europe to pick out of
a crowd half so many merry and happy faces. The prohibition of
the flute and dancing is inveighed against as wrong and
foolish;--the more than presbyterian manner of keeping the
Sabbath is looked at in a similar light. On these points I will
not pretend to offer any opinion, in opposition to men who have
resided as many years as I was days on the island.

On the whole, it appears to me that the morality and religion of
the inhabitants are highly creditable. There are many who attack,
even more acrimoniously than Kotzebue, both the missionaries,
their system, and the effects produced by it. Such reasoners
never compare the present state with that of the island only
twenty years ago; nor even with that of Europe at this day; but
they compare it with the high standard of Gospel perfection. They
expect the missionaries to effect that which the Apostles
themselves failed to do. Inasmuch as the condition of the people
falls short of this high standard, blame is attached to the
missionary, instead of credit for that which he has effected.
They forget, or will not remember, that human sacrifices, and the
power of an idolatrous priesthood--a system of profligacy
unparalleled in any other part of the world--infanticide a
consequence of that system--bloody wars, where the conquerors
spared neither women nor children--that all these have been
abolished; and that dishonesty, intemperance, and licentiousness
have been greatly reduced by the introduction of Christianity. In
a voyager to forget these things is base ingratitude; for should
he chance to be at the point of shipwreck on some unknown coast,
he will most devoutly pray that the lesson of the missionary may
have extended thus far.

In point of morality, the virtue of the women, it has been often
said, is most open to exception. But before they are blamed too
severely, it will be well distinctly to call to mind the scenes
described by Captain Cook and Mr. Banks, in which the
grandmothers and mothers of the present race played a part. Those
who are most severe, should consider how much of the morality of
the women in Europe is owing to the system early impressed by
mothers on their daughters, and how much in each individual case
to the precepts of religion. But it is useless to argue against
such reasoners;--I believe that, disappointed in not finding the
field of licentiousness quite so open as formerly, they will not
give credit to a morality which they do not wish to practise, or
to a religion which they undervalue, if not despise.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 1835.

The harbour of Papiete, where the queen resides, may be
considered as the capital of the island: it is also the seat of
government, and the chief resort of shipping. Captain Fitz Roy
took a party there this day to hear divine service, first in the
Tahitian language, and afterwards in our own. Mr. Pritchard, the
leading missionary in the island, performed the service. The
chapel consisted of a large airy framework of wood; and it was
filled to excess by tidy, clean people, of all ages and both
sexes. I was rather disappointed in the apparent degree of
attention; but I believe my expectations were raised too high. At
all events the appearance was quite equal to that in a country
church in England. The singing of the hymns was decidedly very
pleasing, but the language from the pulpit, although fluently
delivered, did not sound well: a constant repetition of words,
like "tata ta, mata mai," rendered it monotonous. After English
service, a party returned on foot to Matavai. It was a pleasant
walk, sometimes along the sea-beach and sometimes under the shade
of the many beautiful trees.

About two years ago, a small vessel under English colours was
plundered by some of the inhabitants of the Low Islands, which
were then under the dominion of the Queen of Tahiti. It was
believed that the perpetrators were instigated to this act by
some indiscreet laws issued by her majesty. The British
government demanded compensation; which was acceded to, and a sum
of nearly three thousand dollars was agreed to be paid on the
first of last September. The Commodore at Lima ordered Captain
Fitz Roy to inquire concerning this debt, and to demand
satisfaction if it were not paid. Captain Fitz Roy accordingly
requested an interview with the Queen Pomarre, since famous from
the ill-treatment she has received from the French; and a
parliament was held to consider the question, at which all the
principal chiefs of the island and the queen were assembled. I
will not attempt to describe what took place, after the
interesting account given by Captain Fitz Roy. The money, it
appeared, had not been paid; perhaps the alleged reasons were
rather equivocal; but otherwise I cannot sufficiently express our
general surprise at the extreme good sense, the reasoning powers,
moderation, candour, and prompt resolution, which were displayed
on all sides. I believe we all left the meeting with a very
different opinion of the Tahitians from what we entertained when
we entered. The chiefs and people resolved to subscribe and
complete the sum which was wanting; Captain Fitz Roy urged that
it was hard that their private property should be sacrificed for
the crimes of distant islanders. They replied that they were
grateful for his consideration, but that Pomarre was their Queen,
and that they were determined to help her in this her difficulty.
This resolution and its prompt execution, for a book was opened
early the next morning, made a perfect conclusion to this very
remarkable scene of loyalty and good feeling.

After the main discussion was ended, several of the chiefs took
the opportunity of asking Captain Fitz Roy many intelligent
questions on international customs and laws, relating to the
treatment of ships and foreigners. On some points, as soon as the
decision was made, the law was issued verbally on the spot. This
Tahitian parliament lasted for several hours; and when it was
over Captain Fitz Roy invited Queen Pomarre to pay the "Beagle" a
visit.

NOVEMBER 25, 1835.

In the evening four boats were sent for her majesty; the ship was
dressed with flags, and the yards manned on her coming on board.
She was accompanied by most of the chiefs. The behaviour of all
was very proper: they begged for nothing, and seemed much pleased
with Captain Fitz Roy's presents. The Queen is a large awkward
woman, without any beauty, grace or dignity. She has only one
royal attribute: a perfect immovability of expression under all
circumstances, and that rather a sullen one. The rockets were
most admired, and a deep "Oh!" could be heard from the shore, all
round the dark bay, after each explosion. The sailors' songs were
also much admired; and the queen said she thought that one of the
most boisterous ones certainly could not be a hymn! The royal
party did not return on shore till past midnight.

NOVEMBER 26, 1835.

In the evening, with a gentle land-breeze, a course was steered
for New Zealand; and as the sun set, we had a farewell view of
the mountains of Tahiti--the island to which every voyager has
offered up his tribute of admiration.

DECEMBER 19, 1835.

In the evening we saw in the distance New Zealand. We may now
consider that we have nearly crossed the Pacific. It is necessary
to sail over this great ocean to comprehend its immensity. Moving
quickly onwards for weeks together, we meet with nothing but the
same blue, profoundly deep, ocean. Even within the archipelagoes,
the islands are mere specks, and far distant one from the other.
Accustomed to look at maps drawn on a small scale, where dots,
shading, and names are crowded together, we do not rightly judge
how infinitely small the proportion of dry land is to the water
of this vast expanse. The meridian of the Antipodes has likewise
been passed; and now every league, it made us happy to think, was
one league nearer to England. These Antipodes call to one's mind
old recollections of childish doubt and wonder. Only the other
day I looked forward to this airy barrier as a definite point in
our voyage homewards; but now I find it, and all such
resting-places for the imagination, are like shadows, which a man
moving onwards cannot catch. A gale of wind lasting for some days
has lately given us full leisure to measure the future stages in
our homeward voyage, and to wish most earnestly for its
termination.

DECEMBER 21, 1835.

Early in the morning we entered the Bay of Islands, and being
becalmed for some hours near the mouth, we did not reach the
anchorage till the middle of the day. The country is hilly, with
a smooth outline, and is deeply intersected by numerous arms of
the sea extending from the bay. The surface appears from a
distance as if clothed with coarse pasture, but this in truth is
nothing but fern. On the more distant hills, as well as in parts
of the valleys, there is a good deal of woodland. The general
tint of the landscape is not a bright green; and it resembles the
country a short distance to the south of Concepcion in Chile. In
several parts of the bay little villages of square tidy-looking
houses are scattered close down to the water's edge. Three
whaling-ships were lying at anchor, and a canoe every now and
then crossed from shore to shore; with these exceptions, an air
of extreme quietness reigned over the whole district. Only a
single canoe came alongside. This, and the aspect of the whole
scene, afforded a remarkable, and not very pleasing contrast,
with our joyful and boisterous welcome at Tahiti.

In the afternoon we went on shore to one of the larger groups of
houses, which yet hardly deserves the title of a village. Its
name is Pahia: it is the residence of the missionaries; and there
are no native residents except servants and labourers. In the
vicinity of the Bay of Islands the number of Englishmen,
including their families, amounts to between two and three
hundred. All the cottages, many of which are whitewashed and look
very neat, are the property of the English. The hovels of the
natives are so diminutive and paltry that they can scarcely be
perceived from a distance. At Pahia it was quite pleasing to
behold the English flowers in the gardens before the houses;
there were roses of several kinds, honeysuckle, jasmine, stocks,
and whole hedges of sweetbriar.

DECEMBER 22, 1835.

In the morning I went out walking; but I soon found that the
country was very impracticable. All the hills are thickly covered
with tall fern, together with a low bush which grows like a
cypress; and very little ground has been cleared or cultivated. I
then tried the sea-beach; but proceeding towards either hand, my
walk was soon stopped by salt-water creeks and deep brooks. The
communication between the inhabitants of the different parts of
the bay is (as in Chiloe) almost entirely kept up by boats. I was
surprised to find that almost every hill which I ascended had
been at some former time more or less fortified. The summits were
cut into steps or successive terraces, and frequently they had
been protected by deep trenches. I afterwards observed that the
principal hills inland in like manner showed an artificial
outline. These are the Pas, so frequently mentioned by Captain
Cook under the name of "hippah;" the difference of sound being
owing to the prefixed article.

That the Pas had formerly been much used was evident from the
piles of shells, and the pits in which, as I was informed, sweet
potatoes used to be kept as a reserve. As there was no water on
these hills, the defenders could never have anticipated a long
siege, but only a hurried attack for plunder, against which the
successive terraces would have afforded good protection. The
general introduction of firearms has changed the whole system of
warfare; and an exposed situation on the top of a hill is now
worse than useless. The Pas in consequence are, at the present
day, always built on a level piece of ground. They consist of a
double stockade of thick and tall posts, placed in a zigzag line,
so that every part can be flanked. Within the stockade a mound of
earth is thrown up, behind which the defenders can rest in
safety, or use their firearms over it. On the level of the ground
little archways sometimes pass through this breastwork, by which
means the defenders can crawl out to the stockade and reconnoitre
their enemies. The Reverend W. Williams, who gave me this
account, added that in one Pas he had noticed spurs or buttresses
projecting on the inner and protected side of the mound of earth.
On asking the chief the use of them, he replied, that if two or
three of his men were shot their neighbours would not see the
bodies, and so be discouraged.

These Pas are considered by the New Zealanders as very perfect
means of defence: for the attacking force is never so well
disciplined as to rush in a body to the stockade, cut it down,
and effect their entry. When a tribe goes to war, the chief
cannot order one party to go here and another there; but every
man fights in the manner which best pleases himself; and to each
separate individual to approach a stockade defended by firearms
must appear certain death. I should think a more warlike race of
inhabitants could not be found in any part of the world than the
New Zealanders. Their conduct on first seeing a ship, as
described by Captain Cook, strongly illustrates this: the act of
throwing volleys of stones at so great and novel an object, and
their defiance of "Come on shore and we will kill and eat you
all," shows uncommon boldness. This warlike spirit is evident in
many of their customs, and even in their smallest actions. If a
New Zealander is struck, although but in joke, the blow must be
returned; and of this I saw an instance with one of our officers.

At the present day, from the progress of civilisation, there is
much less warfare, except among some of the southern tribes. I
heard a characteristic anecdote of what took place some time ago
in the south. A missionary found a chief and his tribe in
preparation for war;--their muskets clean and bright, and their
ammunition ready. He reasoned long on the inutility of the war,
and the little provocation which had been given for it. The chief
was much shaken in his resolution, and seemed in doubt: but at
length it occurred to him that a barrel of his gunpowder was in a
bad state, and that it would not keep much longer. This was
brought forward as an unanswerable argument for the necessity of
immediately declaring war: the idea of allowing so much good
gunpowder to spoil was not to be thought of; and this settled the
point. I was told by the missionaries that in the life of Shongi,
the chief who visited England, the love of war was the one and
lasting spring of every action. The tribe in which he was a
principal chief had at one time been much oppressed by another
tribe from the Thames River. A solemn oath was taken by the men
that when their boys should grow up, and they should be powerful
enough, they would never forget or forgive these injuries. To
fulfil this oath appears to have been Shongi's chief motive for
going to England; and when there it was his sole object. Presents
were valued only as they could be converted into arms; of the
arts, those alone interested him which were connected with the
manufacture of arms. When at Sydney, Shongi, by a strange
coincidence, met the hostile chief of the Thames River at the
house of Mr. Marsden: their conduct was civil to each other; but
Shongi told him that when again in New Zealand he would never
cease to carry war into his country. The challenge was accepted;
and Shongi on his return fulfilled the threat to the utmost
letter. The tribe on the Thames River was utterly overthrown, and
the chief to whom the challenge had been given was himself
killed. Shongi, although harbouring such deep feelings of hatred
and revenge, is described as having been a good-natured person.

In the evening I went with Captain Fitz Roy and Mr. Baker, one of
the missionaries, to pay a visit to Kororadika: we wandered about
the village, and saw and conversed with many of the people, both
men, women, and children. Looking at the New Zealander, one
naturally compares him with the Tahitian; both belonging to the
same family of mankind. The comparison, however, tells heavily
against the New Zealander. He may, perhaps be superior in energy,
but in every other respect his character is of a much lower
order. One glance at their respective expressions brings
conviction to the mind that one is a savage, the other a
civilised man. It would be vain to seek in the whole of New
Zealand a person with the face and mien of the old Tahitian chief
Utamme. No doubt the extraordinary manner in which tattooing is
here practised gives a disagreeable expression to their
countenances. The complicated but symmetrical figures covering
the whole face puzzle and mislead an unaccustomed eye: it is
moreover probable that the deep incisions, by destroying the play
of the superficial muscles, give an air of rigid inflexibility.
But, besides this, there is a twinkling in the eye which cannot
indicate anything but cunning and ferocity. Their figures are
tall and bulky; but not comparable in elegance with those of the
working-classes in Tahiti.

Both their persons and houses are filthily dirty and offensive:
the idea of washing either their bodies or their clothes never
seems to enter their heads. I saw a chief, who was wearing a
shirt black and matted with filth, and when asked how it came to
be so dirty, he replied, with surprise, "Do not you see it is an
old one?" Some of the men have shirts; but the common dress is
one or two large blankets, generally black with dirt, which are
thrown over their shoulders in a very inconvenient and awkward
fashion. A few of the principal chiefs have decent suits of
English clothes; but these are only worn on great occasions.

DECEMBER 23, 1835.

At a place called Waimate, about fifteen miles from the Bay of
Islands, and midway between the eastern and western coasts, the
missionaries have purchased some land for agricultural purposes.
I had been introduced to the Reverend W. Williams, who, upon my
expressing a wish, invited me to pay him a visit there. Mr.
Bushby, the British resident, offered to take me in his boat by a
creek, where I should see a pretty waterfall, and by which means
my walk would be shortened. He likewise procured for me a guide.
Upon asking a neighbouring chief to recommend a man, the chief
himself offered to go; but his ignorance of the value of money
was so complete, that at first he asked how many pounds I would
give him, but afterwards was well contented with two dollars.
When I showed the chief a very small bundle which I wanted
carried, it became absolutely necessary for him to take a slave.
These feelings of pride are beginning to wear away; but formerly
a leading man would sooner have died than undergone the indignity
of carrying the smallest burden. My companion was a light active
man, dressed in a dirty blanket, and with his face completely
tattooed. He had formerly been a great warrior. He appeared to be
on very cordial terms with Mr. Bushby; but at various times they
had quarrelled violently. Mr. Bushby remarked that a little quiet
irony would frequently silence any one of these natives in their
most blustering moments. This chief has come and harangued Mr.
Bushby in a hectoring manner, saying, "A great chief, a great
man, a friend of mine, has come to pay me a visit--you must give
him something good to eat, some fine presents, etc." Mr. Bushby
has allowed him to finish his discourse, and then has quietly
replied by some answer such as, "What else shall your slave do
for you?" The man would then instantly, with a very comical
expression, cease his braggadocio.

Some time ago Mr. Bushby suffered a far more serious attack. A
chief and a party of men tried to break into his house in the
middle of the night, and not finding this so easy, commenced a
brisk firing with their muskets. Mr. Bushby was slightly wounded,
but the party was at length driven away. Shortly afterwards it
was discovered who was the aggressor; and a general meeting of
the chiefs was convened to consider the case. It was considered
by the New Zealanders as very atrocious, inasmuch as it was a
night attack, and that Mrs. Bushby was lying ill in the house:
this latter circumstance, much to their honour, being considered
in all cases as a protection. The chiefs agreed to confiscate the
land of the aggressor to the King of England. The whole
proceeding, however, in thus trying and punishing a chief was
entirely without precedent. The aggressor, moreover, lost caste
in the estimation of his equals; and this was considered by the
British as of more consequence than the confiscation of his land.

As the boat was shoving off, a second chief stepped into her, who
only wanted the amusement of the passage up and down the creek. I
never saw a more horrid and ferocious expression than this man
had. It immediately struck me I had somewhere seen his likeness:
it will be found in Retzch's outlines to Schiller's ballad of
Fridolin, where two men are pushing Robert into the burning iron
furnace. It is the man who has his arm on Robert's breast.
Physiognomy here spoke the truth; this chief had been a notorious
murderer, and was an arrant coward to boot. At the point where
the boat landed, Mr. Bushby accompanied me a few hundred yards on
the road: I could not help admiring the cool impudence of the
hoary old villain, whom we left lying in the boat, when he
shouted to Mr. Bushby, "Do not you stay long, I shall be tired of
waiting here."

We now commenced our walk. The road lay along a well-beaten path,
bordered on each side by the tall fern which covers the whole
country. After travelling some miles we came to a little country
village, where a few hovels were collected together, and some
patches of ground cultivated with potatoes. The introduction of
the potato has been the most essential benefit to the island; it
is now much more used than any native vegetable. New Zealand is
favoured by one great natural advantage; namely, that the
inhabitants can never perish from famine. The whole country
abounds with fern: and the roots of this plant, if not very
palatable, yet contain much nutriment. A native can always
subsist on these, and on the shell-fish which are abundant on all
parts of the sea-coast. The villages are chiefly conspicuous by
the platforms which are raised on four posts ten or twelve feet
above the ground, and on which the produce of the fields is kept
secure from all accidents.

On coming near one of the huts I was much amused by seeing in due
form the ceremony of rubbing, or, as it ought to be called,
pressing noses. The women, on our first approach, began uttering
something in a most dolorous voice; they then squatted themselves
down and held up their faces; my companion standing over them,
one after another, placed the bridge of his nose at right angles
to theirs, and commenced pressing. This lasted rather longer than
a cordial shake of the hand with us, and as we vary the force of
the grasp of the hand in shaking, so do they in pressing. During
the process they uttered comfortable little grunts, very much in
the same manner as two pigs do, when rubbing against each other.
I noticed that the slave would press noses with any one he met,
indifferently either before or after his master the chief.
Although among these savages the chief has absolute power of life
and death over his slave, yet there is an entire absence of
ceremony between them. Mr. Burchell has remarked the same thing
in Southern Africa with the rude Bachapins. Where civilisation
has arrived at a certain point, complex formalities soon arise
between the different grades of society: thus at Tahiti all were
formerly obliged to uncover themselves as low as the waist in
presence of the king.

The ceremony of pressing noses having been duly completed with
all present, we seated ourselves in a circle in the front of one
of the-hovels, and rested there half an hour. All the hovels have
nearly the same form and dimensions, and all agree in being
filthily dirty. They resemble a cow-shed with one end open, but
having a partition a little way within, with a square hole in it,
making a small gloomy chamber. In this the inhabitants keep all
their property, and when the weather is cold they sleep there.
They eat, however, and pass their time in the open part in front.
My guides having finished their pipes, we continued our walk. The
path led through the same undulating country, the whole uniformly
clothed as before with fern. On our right hand we had a
serpentine river, the banks of which were fringed with trees, and
here and there on the hill-sides there was a clump of wood. The
whole scene, in spite of its green colour, had rather a desolate
aspect. The sight of so much fern impresses the mind with an idea
of sterility: this, however, is not correct; for wherever the
fern grows thick and breast-high, the land by tillage becomes
productive. Some of the residents think that all this extensive
open country originally was covered with forests, and that it has
been cleared by fire. It is said, that by digging in the barest
spots, lumps of the kind of resin which flows from the kauri pine
are frequently found. The natives had an evident motive in
clearing the country; for the fern, formerly a staple article of
food, flourishes only in the open cleared tracks. The almost
entire absence of associated grasses, which forms so remarkable a
feature in the vegetation of this island, may perhaps be
accounted for by the land having been aboriginally covered with
forest-trees.

The soil is volcanic; in several parts we passed over slaggy
lavas, and craters could clearly be distinguished on several of
the neighbouring hills. Although the scenery is nowhere
beautiful, and only occasionally pretty, I enjoyed my walk. I
should have enjoyed it more, if my companion, the chief, had not
possessed extraordinary conversational powers. I knew only three
words: "good," "bad," and "yes:" and with these I answered all
his remarks, without of course having understood one word he
said. This, however, was quite sufficient: I was a good listener,
an agreeable person, and he never ceased talking to me.

At length we reached Waimate. After having passed over so many
miles of an uninhabited useless country, the sudden appearance of
an English farm-house, and its well-dressed fields, placed there
as if by an enchanter's wand, was exceedingly pleasant. Mr.
Williams not being at home, I received in Mr. Davies's house a
cordial welcome. After drinking tea with his family party, we
took a stroll about the farm. At Waimate there are three large
houses, where the missionary gentlemen, Messrs. Williams, Davies,
and Clarke, reside; and near them are the huts of the native
labourers. On an adjoining slope fine crops of barley and wheat
were standing in full ear; and in another part fields of potatoes
and clover. But I cannot attempt to describe all I saw; there
were large gardens, with every fruit and vegetable which England
produces; and many belonging to a warmer clime. I may instance
asparagus, kidney beans, cucumbers, rhubarb, apples, pears, figs,
peaches, apricots, grapes, olives, gooseberries, currants, hops,
gorse for fences, and English oaks; also many kinds of flowers.
Around the farmyard there were stables, a thrashing-barn with its
winnowing machine, a blacksmith's forge, and on the ground
ploughshares and other tools: in the middle was that happy
mixture of pigs and poultry, lying comfortably together, as in
every English farmyard. At the distance of a few hundred yards,
where the water of a little rill had been dammed up into a pool,
there was a large and substantial water-mill.

All this is very surprising when it is considered that five years
ago nothing but the fern flourished here. Moreover, native
workmanship, taught by the missionaries, has effected this
change;--the lesson of the missionary is the enchanter's wand.
The house had been built, the windows framed, the fields
ploughed, and even the trees grafted, by the New Zealander. At
the mill a New Zealander was seen powdered white with flower,
like his brother miller in England. When I looked at this whole
scene I thought it admirable. It was not merely that England was
brought vividly before my mind; yet, as the evening drew to a
close, the domestic sounds, the fields of corn, the distant
undulating country with its trees, might well have been mistaken
for our fatherland: nor was it the triumphant feeling at seeing
what Englishmen could effect, but rather the high hopes thus
inspired for the future progress of this fine island.

Several young men, redeemed by the missionaries from slavery,
were employed on the farm. They were dressed in a shirt, jacket,
and trousers, and had a respectable appearance. Judging from one
trifling anecdote, I should think they must be honest. When
walking in the fields, a young labourer came up to Mr. Davies and
gave him a knife and gimlet, saying that he had found them on the
road, and did not know to whom they belonged! These young men and
boys appeared very merry and good-humoured. In the evening I saw
a party of them at cricket: when I thought of the austerity of
which the missionaries have been accused, I was amused by
observing one of their own sons taking an active part in the
game. A more decided and pleasing change was manifested in the
young women, who acted as servants within the houses. Their
clean, tidy, and healthy appearance, like that of the dairy-maids
in England, formed a wonderful contrast with the women of the
filthy hovels in Kororadika. The wives of the missionaries tried
to persuade them not to be tattooed; but a famous operator having
arrived from the south, they said, "We really must just have a
few lines on our lips; else when we grow old, our lips will
shrivel, and we shall be so very ugly." There is not nearly so
much tattooing as formerly; but as it is a badge of distinction
between the chief and the slave, it will probably long be
practised. So soon does any train of ideas become habitual, that
the missionaries told me that even in their eyes a plain face
looked mean, and not like that of a New Zealand gentleman.

Late in the evening I went to Mr. Williams's house, where I
passed the night. I found there a large party of children,
collected together for Christmas Day, and all sitting round a
table at tea. I never saw a nicer or more merry group; and to
think that this was in the centre of the land of cannibalism,
murder, and all atrocious crimes! The cordiality and happiness so
plainly pictured in the faces of the little circle appeared
equally felt by the older persons of the mission.

DECEMBER 24, 1835.

In the morning prayers were read in the native tongue to the
whole family. After breakfast I rambled about the gardens and
farm. This was a market-day, when the natives of the surrounding
hamlets bring their potatoes, Indian corn, or pigs, to exchange
for blankets, tobacco, and sometimes, through the persuasions of
the missionaries, for soap. Mr. Davies's eldest son, who manages
a farm of his own, is the man of business in the market. The
children of the missionaries, who came while young to the island,
understand the language better than their parents, and can get
anything more readily done by the natives.

A little before noon Messrs. Williams and Davies walked with me
to part of a neighbouring forest, to show me the famous kauri
pine. I measured one of these noble trees, and found it
thirty-one feet in circumference above the roots. There was
another close by, which I did not see, thirty-three feet; and I
heard of one no less than forty feet. These trees are remarkable
for their smooth cylindrical boles, which run up to a height of
sixty, and even ninety feet, with a nearly equal diameter, and
without a single branch. The crown of branches at the summit is
out of all proportion small to the trunk; and the leaves are
likewise small compared with the branches. The forest was here
almost composed of the kauri; and the largest trees, from the
parallelism of their sides, stood up like gigantic columns of
wood. The timber of the kauri is the most valuable production of
the island; moreover, a quantity of resin oozes from the bark,
which is sold at a penny a pound to the Americans, but its use
was then unknown. Some of the New Zealand forests must be
impenetrable to an extraordinary degree. Mr. Matthews informed me
that one forest only thirty-four miles in width, and separating
two inhabited districts, had only lately, for the first time,
been crossed. He and another missionary, each with a party of
about fifty men, undertook to open a road, but it cost them more
than a fortnight's labour! In the woods I saw very few birds.
With regard to animals, it is a most remarkable fact, that so
large an island, extending over more than 700 miles in latitude,
and in many parts ninety broad, with varied stations, a fine
climate, and land of all heights, from 14,000 feet downwards,
with the exception of a small rat, did not possess one indigenous
animal. The several species of that gigantic genus of birds, the
Deinornis, seem here to have replaced mammiferous quadrupeds, in
the same manner as the reptiles still do at the Galapagos
Archipelago. It is said that the common Norway rat, in the short
space of two years, annihilated in this northern end of the
island the New Zealand species. In many places I noticed several
sorts of weeds, which, like the rats, I was forced to own as
countrymen. A leek has overrun whole districts, and will prove
very troublesome, but it was imported as a favour by a French
vessel. The common dock is also widely disseminated, and will, I
fear, for ever remain a proof of the rascality of an Englishman
who sold the seeds for those of the tobacco plant.

On returning from our pleasant walk to the house, I dined with
Mr. Williams; and then, a horse being lent me, I returned to the
Bay of Islands. I took leave of the missionaries with
thankfulness for their kind welcome, and with feelings of high
respect for their gentlemanlike, useful, and upright characters.
I think it would be difficult to find a body of men better
adapted for the high office which they fulfil.

CHRISTMAS DAY, 1835.

In a few more days the fourth year of our absence from England
will be completed. Our first Christmas Day was spent at Plymouth,
the second at St. Martin's Cove near Cape Horn; the third at Port
Desire in Patagonia; the fourth at anchor in a wild harbour in
the peninsula of Tres Montes, this fifth here, and the next, I
trust in Providence, will be in England. We attended divine
service in the chapel of Pahia; part of the service being read in
English, and part in the native language. Whilst at New Zealand
we did not hear of any recent acts of cannibalism; but Mr. Stokes
found burnt human bones strewed round a fireplace on a small
island near the anchorage; but these remains of a comfortable
banquet might have been lying there for several years. It is
probable that the moral state of the people will rapidly improve.
Mr. Bushby mentioned one pleasing anecdote as a proof of the
sincerity of some, at least, of those who profess Christianity.
One of his young men left him, who had been accustomed to read
prayers to the rest of the servants. Some weeks afterwards,
happening to pass late in the evening by an outhouse, he saw and
heard one of his men reading the Bible with difficulty by the
light of the fire, to the others. After this the party knelt and
prayed: in their prayers they mentioned Mr. Bushby and his
family, and the missionaries, each separately in his respective
district.

DECEMBER 26, 1835.

Mr. Bushby offered to take Mr. Sulivan and myself in his boat
some miles up the river to Cawa-Cawa, and proposed afterwards to
walk on to the village of Waiomio, where there are some curious
rocks. Following one of the arms of the bay we enjoyed a pleasant
row, and passed through pretty scenery, until we came to a
village, beyond which the boat could not pass. From this place a
chief and a party of men volunteered to walk with us to Waiomio,
a distance of four miles. The chief was at this time rather
notorious from having lately hung one of his wives and a slave
for adultery. When one of the missionaries remonstrated with him
he seemed surprised, and said he thought he was exactly following
the English method. Old Shongi, who happened to be in England
during the Queen's trial, expressed great disapprobation at the
whole proceeding: he said he had five wives, and he would rather
cut off all their heads than be so much troubled about one.
Leaving this village, we crossed over to another, seated on a
hill-side at a little distance. The daughter of a chief, who was
still a heathen, had died there five days before. The hovel in
which she had expired had been burnt to the ground: her body,
being enclosed between two small canoes, was placed upright on
the ground, and protected by an enclosure bearing wooden images
of their gods, and the whole was painted bright red, so as to be
conspicuous from afar. Her gown was fastened to the coffin, and
her hair being cut off was cast at its foot. The relatives of the
family had torn the flesh of their arms, bodies, and faces, so
that they were covered with clotted blood; and the old women
looked most filthy, disgusting objects. On the following day some
of the officers visited this place, and found the women still
howling and cutting themselves.

We continued our walk, and soon reached Waiomio. Here there are
some singular masses of limestone resembling ruined castles.
These rocks have long served for burial places, and in
consequence are held too sacred to be approached. One of the
young men, however, cried out, "Let us all be brave," and ran on
ahead; but when within a hundred yards, the whole party thought
better of it, and stopped short. With perfect indifference,
however, they allowed us to examine the whole place. At this
village we rested some hours, during which time there was a long
discussion with Mr. Bushby, concerning the right of sale of
certain lands. One old man, who appeared a perfect genealogist,
illustrated the successive possessors by bits of stick driven
into the ground. Before leaving the houses a little basketful of
roasted sweet potatoes was given to each of our party; and we
all, according to the custom, carried them away to eat on the
road. I noticed that among the women employed in cooking, there
was a man-slave: it must be a humiliating thing for a man in this
warlike country to be employed in doing that which is considered
as the lowest woman's work. Slaves are not allowed to go to war;
but this perhaps can hardly be considered as a hardship. I heard
of one poor wretch who, during hostilities, ran away to the
opposite party; being met by two men, he was immediately seized;
but as they could not agree to whom he should belong, each stood
over him with a stone hatchet, and seemed determined that the
other at least should not take him away alive. The poor man,
almost dead with fright, was only saved by the address of a
chief's wife. We afterwards enjoyed a pleasant walk back to the
boat, but did not reach the ship till late in the evening.

DECEMBER 30, 1835.

In the afternoon we stood out of the Bay of Islands, on our
course to Sydney. I believe we were all glad to leave New
Zealand. It is not a pleasant place. Amongst the natives there is
absent that charming simplicity which is found in Tahiti; and the
greater part of the English are the very refuse of society.
Neither is the country itself attractive. I look back but to one
bright spot, and that is Waimate, with its Christian inhabitants.

(PLATE 88.  HIPPAH, NEW ZEALAND.)


CHAPTER XIX.

(PLATE 89.  SYDNEY, 1835.)

AUSTRALIA.

Sydney.
Excursion to Bathurst.
Aspect of the woods.
Party of natives.
Gradual extinction of the aborigines.
Infection generated by associated men in health.
Blue Mountains.
View of the grand gulf-like valleys.
Their origin and formation.
Bathurst, general civility of the lower orders.
State of society.
Van Diemen's Land.
Hobart Town.
Aborigines all banished.
Mount Wellington.
King George's Sound.
Cheerless aspect of the country.
Bald Head, calcareous casts of branches of trees.
Party of natives.
Leave Australia.

JANUARY 12, 1836.

Early in the morning a light air carried us towards the entrance
of Port Jackson. Instead of beholding a verdant country,
interspersed with fine houses, a straight line of yellowish cliff
brought to our minds the coast of Patagonia. A solitary
lighthouse, built of white stone, alone told us that we were near
a great and populous city. Having entered the harbour, it appears
fine and spacious, with cliff-formed shores of horizontally
stratified sandstone. The nearly level country is covered with
thin scrubby trees, bespeaking the curse of sterility. Proceeding
farther inland, the country improves: beautiful villas and nice
cottages are here and there scattered along the beach. In the
distance stone houses, two and three stories high, and windmills
standing on the edge of a bank, pointed out to us the
neighbourhood of the capital of Australia.

At last we anchored within Sydney Cove. We found the little basin
occupied by many large ships, and surrounded by warehouses. In
the evening I walked through the town, and returned full of
admiration at the whole scene. It is a most magnificent testimony
to the power of the British nation. Here, in a less promising
country, scores of years have done many more times more than an
equal number of centuries have effected in South America. My
first feeling was to congratulate myself that I was born an
Englishman. Upon seeing more of the town afterwards, perhaps my
admiration fell a little; but yet it is a fine town. The streets
are regular, broad, clean, and kept in excellent order; the
houses are of a good size, and the shops well furnished. It may
be faithfully compared to the large suburbs which stretch out
from London and a few other great towns in England; but not even
near London or Birmingham is there an appearance of such rapid
growth. The number of large houses and other buildings just
finished was truly surprising; nevertheless, every one complained
of the high rents and difficulty in procuring a house. Coming
from South America, where in the towns every man of property is
known, no one thing surprised me more than not being able to
ascertain at once to whom this or that carriage belonged.

I hired a man and two horses to take me to Bathurst, a village
about one hundred and twenty miles in the interior, and the
centre of a great pastoral district. By this means I hoped to
gain a general idea of the appearance of the country. On the
morning of the 16th (January) I set out on my excursion. The
first stage took us to Paramatta, a small country town, next to
Sydney in importance. The roads were excellent, and made upon the
MacAdam principle, whinstone having been brought for the purpose
from the distance of several miles. In all respects there was a
close resemblance to England: perhaps the alehouses here were
more numerous. The iron gangs, or parties of convicts who have
committed here some offence, appeared the least like England:
they were working in chains, under the charge of sentries with
loaded arms. The power which the government possesses, by means
of forced labour, of at once opening good roads throughout the
country, has been, I believe, one main cause of the early
prosperity of this colony. I slept at night at a very comfortable
inn at Emu ferry, thirty-five miles from Sydney, and near the
ascent of the Blue Mountains. This line of road is the most
frequented, and has been the longest inhabited of any in the
colony. The whole land is enclosed with high railings, for the
farmers have not succeeded in rearing hedges. There are many
substantial houses and good cottages scattered about; but
although considerable pieces of land are under cultivation, the
greater part yet remains as when first discovered.

The extreme uniformity of the vegetation is the most remarkable
feature in the landscape of the greater part of New South Wales.
Everywhere we have an open woodland, the ground being partially
covered with a very thin pasture, with little appearance of
verdure. The trees nearly all belong to one family, and mostly
have their leaves placed in a vertical, instead of as in Europe,
in a nearly horizontal position: the foliage is scanty, and of a
peculiar pale green tint, without any gloss. Hence the woods
appear light and shadowless: this, although a loss of comfort to
the traveller under the scorching rays of summer, is of
importance to the farmer, as it allows grass to grow where it
otherwise would not. The leaves are not shed periodically: this
character appears common to the entire southern hemisphere,
namely, South America, Australia, and the Cape of Good Hope. The
inhabitants of this hemisphere, and of the intertropical regions,
thus lose perhaps one of the most glorious, though to our eyes
common, spectacles in the world--the first bursting into full
foliage of the leafless tree. They may, however, say that we pay
dearly for this by having the land covered with mere naked
skeletons for so many months. This is too true; but our senses
thus acquire a keen relish for the exquisite green of the spring,
which the eyes of those living within the tropics, sated during
the long year with the gorgeous productions of those glowing
climates, can never experience. The greater number of the trees,
with the exception of some of the Blue-gums, do not attain a
large size; but they grow tall and tolerably straight, and stand
well apart. The bark of some of the Eucalypti falls annually, or
hangs dead in long shreds which swing about with the wind, and
give to the woods a desolate and untidy appearance. I cannot
imagine a more complete contrast, in every respect, than between
the forests of Valdivia or Chiloe, and the woods of Australia.

At sunset, a party of a score of the black aborigines passed by,
each carrying, in their accustomed manner, a bundle of spears and
other weapons. By giving a leading young man a shilling, they
were easily detained, and threw their spears for my amusement.
They were all partly clothed, and several could speak a little
English: their countenances were good-humoured and pleasant, and
they appeared far from being such utterly degraded beings as they
have usually been represented. In their own arts they are
admirable. A cap being fixed at thirty yards distance, they
transfixed it with a spear, delivered by the throwing-stick with
the rapidity of an arrow from the bow of a practised archer. In
tracking animals or men they show most wonderful sagacity; and I
heard of several of their remarks which manifested considerable
acuteness. They will not, however, cultivate the ground, or build
houses and remain stationary, or even take the trouble of tending
a flock of sheep when given to them. On the whole they appear to
me to stand some few degrees higher in the scale of civilisation
than the Fuegians.

It is very curious thus to see in the midst of a civilised
people, a set of harmless savages wandering about without knowing
where they shall sleep at night, and gaining their livelihood by
hunting in the woods. As the white man has travelled onwards, he
has spread over the country belonging to several tribes. These,
although thus enclosed by one common people, keep up their
ancient distinctions, and sometimes go to war with each other. In
an engagement which took place lately, the two parties most
singularly chose the centre of the village of Bathurst for the
field of battle. This was of service to the defeated side, for
the runaway warriors took refuge in the barracks.

The number of aborigines is rapidly decreasing. In my whole ride,
with the exception of some boys brought up by Englishmen, I saw
only one other party. This decrease, no doubt, must be partly
owing to the introduction of spirits, to European diseases (even
the milder ones of which, such as the measles, prove very
destructive), and to the gradual extinction of the wild animals.
(19/1. It is remarkable how the same disease is modified in
different climates. At the little island of St. Helena the
introduction of scarlet-fever is dreaded as a plague. In some
countries foreigners and natives are as differently affected by
certain contagious disorders as if they had been different
animals; of which fact some instances have occurred in Chile; and
according to Humboldt in Mexico "Political Essay New Spain"
volume 4.) It is said that numbers of their children invariably
perish in very early infancy from the effects of their wandering
life; and as the difficulty of procuring food increases, so must
their wandering habits increase; and hence the population,
without any apparent deaths from famine, is repressed in a manner
extremely sudden compared to what happens in civilised countries,
where the father, though in adding to his labour he may injure
himself, does not destroy his offspring.

Besides these several evident causes of destruction, there
appears to be some more mysterious agency generally at work.
Wherever the European has trod, death seems to pursue the
aboriginal. We may look to the wide extent of the Americas,
Polynesia, the Cape of Good Hope, and Australia, and we find the
same result. Nor is it the white man alone that thus acts the
destroyer; the Polynesian of Malay extraction has in parts of the
East Indian archipelago thus driven before him the dark-coloured
native. The varieties of man seem to act on each other in the
same way as different species of animals--the stronger always
extirpating the weaker. It was melancholy at New Zealand to hear
the fine energetic natives saying that they knew the land was
doomed to pass from their children. Every one has heard of the
inexplicable reduction of the population in the beautiful and
healthy island of Tahiti since the date of Captain Cook's
voyages: although in that case we might have expected that it
would have been increased; for infanticide, which formerly
prevailed to so extraordinary a degree, has ceased, profligacy
has greatly diminished, and the murderous wars become less
frequent.

The Reverend J. Williams, in his interesting work, says that the
first intercourse between natives and Europeans "is invariably
attended with the introduction of fever, dysentery, or some other
disease which carries off numbers of the people." (19/2.
"Narrative of Missionary Enterprise" page 282.) Again he affirms
"It is certainly a fact, which cannot be controverted, that most
of the diseases which have raged in the islands during my
residence there have been introduced by ships; and what renders
this fact remarkable is that there might be no appearance of
disease among the crew of the ship which conveyed this
destructive importation." (19/3. Captain Beechey chapter 4 volume
1, states that the inhabitants of Pitcairn Island are firmly
convinced that after the arrival of every ship they suffer
cutaneous and other disorders. Captain Beechey attributes this to
the change of diet during the time of the visit. Dr. Macculloch
"Western Isles" volume 2 page 32, says "It is asserted that on
the arrival of a stranger (at St. Kilda) all the inhabitants, in
the common phraseology, catch a cold." Dr. Macculloch considers
the whole case, although often previously affirmed, as ludicrous.
He adds, however, that "the question was put by us to the
inhabitants who unanimously agreed in the story." In Vancouver's
"Voyage" there is a somewhat similar statement with respect to
Otaheite. Dr. Dieffenbach, in a note to his translation of this
Journal, states that the same fact is universally believed by the
inhabitants of the Chatham Islands and in parts of New Zealand.
It is impossible that such a belief should have become universal
in the northern hemisphere, at the Antipodes, and in the Pacific,
without some good foundation. Humboldt "Political Essay on
Kingdom of New Spain" volume 4, says that the great epidemics at
Panama and Callao are "marked" by the arrival of ships from
Chile, because the people from that temperate region first
experience the fatal effects of the torrid zones. I may add that
I have heard it stated in Shropshire that sheep which have been
imported from vessels, although themselves in a healthy
condition, if placed in the same fold with others, frequently
produce sickness in the flock.) This statement is not quite so
extraordinary as it at first appears; for several cases are on
record of the most malignant fevers having broken out, although
the parties themselves, who were the cause, were not affected. In
the early part of the reign of George III, a prisoner who had
been confined in a dungeon was taken in a coach with four
constables before a magistrate; and although the man himself was
not ill, the four constables died from a short putrid fever; but
the contagion extended to no others. From these facts it would
almost appear as if the effluvium of one set of men shut up for
some time together was poisonous when inhaled by others; and
possibly more so, if the men be of different races. Mysterious as
this circumstance appears to be, it is not more surprising than
that the body of one's fellow-creature, directly after death, and
before putrefaction has commenced, should often be of so
deleterious a quality that the mere puncture from an instrument
used in its dissection should prove fatal.

JANUARY 17, 1836.

Early in the morning we passed the Nepean in a ferry-boat. The
river, although at this spot both broad and deep, had a very
small body of running water. Having crossed a low piece of land
on the opposite side, we reached the slope of the Blue Mountains.
The ascent is not steep, the road having been cut with much care
on the side of a sandstone cliff. On the summit an almost level
plain extends, which, rising imperceptibly to the westward, at
last attains a height of more than 3000 feet. From so grand a
title as Blue Mountains, and from their absolute altitude, I
expected to have seen a bold chain of mountains crossing the
country; but instead of this, a sloping plain presents merely an
inconsiderable front to the low land near the coast. From this
first slope the view of the extensive woodland to the east was
striking, and the surrounding trees grew bold and lofty. But when
once on the sandstone platform, the scenery becomes exceedingly
monotonous; each side of the road is bordered by scrubby trees of
the never-failing Eucalyptus family; and with the exception of
two or three small inns, there are no houses or cultivated land;
the road, moreover, is solitary; the most frequent object being a
bullock-waggon, piled up with bales of wool.

In the middle of the day we baited our horses at a little inn,
called the Weatherboard. The country here is elevated 2800 feet
above the sea. About a mile and a half from this place there is a
view exceedingly well worth visiting. Following down a little
valley and its tiny rill of water, an immense gulf unexpectedly
opens through the trees which border the pathway, at the depth of
perhaps 1500 feet. Walking on a few yards, one stands on the
brink of a vast precipice, and below one sees a grand bay or
gulf, for I know not what other name to give it, thickly covered
with forest. The point of view is situated as if at the head of a
bay, the line of cliff diverging on each side, and showing
headland behind headland, as on a bold sea-coast. These cliffs
are composed of horizontal strata of whitish sandstone; and are
so absolutely vertical, that in many places a person standing on
the edge and throwing down a stone, can see it strike the trees
in the abyss below. So unbroken is the line of cliff that in
order to reach the foot of the waterfall formed by this little
stream, it is said to be necessary to go sixteen miles round.
About five miles distant in front another line of cliff extends,
which thus appears completely to encircle the valley; and hence
the name of bay is justified, as applied to this grand
amphitheatrical depression. If we imagine a winding harbour, with
its deep water surrounded by bold cliff-like shores, to be laid
dry, and a forest to spring up on its sandy bottom, we should
then have the appearance and structure here exhibited. This kind
of view was to me quite novel, and extremely magnificent.

In the evening we reached the Blackheath. The sandstone plateau
has here attained the height of 3400 feet; and is covered, as
before, with the same scrubby woods. From the road there were
occasional glimpses into a profound valley of the same character
as the one described; but from the steepness and depth of its
sides, the bottom was scarcely ever to be seen. The Blackheath is
a very comfortable inn, kept by an old soldier; and it reminded
me of the small inns in North Wales.

JANUARY 18, 1836.

Very early in the morning I walked about three miles to see
Govett's Leap: a view of a similar character with that near the
Weatherboard, but perhaps even more stupendous. So early in the
day the gulf was filled with a thin blue haze, which, although
destroying the general effect of the view, added to the apparent
depth at which the forest was stretched out beneath our feet.
These valleys, which so long presented an insuperable barrier to
the attempts of the most enterprising of the colonists to reach
the interior, are most remarkable. Great armlike bays, expanding
at their upper ends, often branch from the main valleys and
penetrate the sandstone platform; on the other hand, the platform
often sends promontories into the valleys, and even leaves in
them great, almost insulated, masses. To descend into some of
these valleys, it is necessary to go round twenty miles; and into
others, the surveyors have only lately penetrated, and the
colonists have not yet been able to drive in their cattle. But
the most remarkable feature in their structure is, that although
several miles wide at their heads, they generally contract
towards their mouths to such a degree as to become impassable.
The Surveyor-General, Sir T. Mitchell, endeavoured in vain, first
walking and then by crawling between the great fallen fragments
of sandstone, to ascend through the gorge by which the river
Grose joins the Nepean (19/4. "Travels in Australia" volume 1
page 154. I must express my obligation to Sir T. Mitchell for
several interesting personal communications on the subject of
these great valleys of New South Wales.); yet the valley of the
Grose in its upper part, as I saw, forms a magnificent level
basin some miles in width, and is on all sides surrounded by
cliffs, the summits of which are believed to be nowhere less than
3000 feet above the level of the sea. When cattle are driven into
the valley of the Wolgan by a path (which I descended), partly
natural and partly made by the owner of the land, they cannot
escape; for this valley is in every other part surrounded by
perpendicular cliffs, and eight miles lower down it contracts
from an average width of half a mile, to a mere chasm, impassable
to man or beast. Sir T. Mitchell states that the great valley of
the Cox river with all its branches, contracts, where it unites
with the Nepean, into a gorge 2200 yards in width, and about 1000
feet in depth. Other similar cases might have been added.

The first impression on seeing the correspondence of the
horizontal strata on each side of these valleys and great
amphitheatrical depressions, is that they have been hollowed out,
like other valleys, by the action of water; but when one reflects
on the enormous amount of stone which on this view must have been
removed through mere gorges or chasms, one is led to ask whether
these spaces may not have subsided. But considering the form of
the irregularly branching valleys, and of the narrow promontories
projecting into them from the platforms, we are compelled to
abandon this notion. To attribute these hollows to the present
alluvial action would be preposterous; nor does the drainage from
the summit-level always fall, as I remarked near the
Weatherboard, into the head of these valleys, but into one side
of their baylike recesses. Some of the inhabitants remarked to me
that they never viewed one of those baylike recesses, with the
headlands receding on both hands, without being struck with their
resemblance to a bold sea-coast. This is certainly the case;
moreover, on the present coast of New South Wales, the numerous
fine, widely-branching harbours, which are generally connected
with the sea by a narrow mouth worn through the sandstone
coast-cliffs, varying from one mile in width to a quarter of a
mile, present a likeness, though on a miniature scale, to the
great valleys of the interior. But then immediately occurs the
startling difficulty, why has the sea worn out these great though
circumscribed depressions on a wide platform, and left mere
gorges at the openings, through which the whole vast amount of
triturated matter must have been carried away? The only light I
can throw upon this enigma is by remarking that banks of the most
irregular forms appear to be now forming in some seas, as in
parts of the West Indies and in the Red Sea, and that their sides
are exceedingly steep. Such banks, I have been led to suppose,
have been formed by sediment heaped by strong currents on an
irregular bottom. That in some cases the sea, instead of
spreading out sediment in a uniform sheet, heaps it round
submarine rocks and islands, it is hardly possible to doubt,
after examining the charts of the West Indies; and that the waves
have power to form high and precipitous cliffs, even in
land-locked harbours, I have noticed in many parts of South
America. To apply these ideas to the sandstone platforms of New
South Wales, I imagine that the strata were heaped by the action
of strong currents, and of the undulations of an open sea, on an
irregular bottom; and that the valley-like spaces thus left
unfilled had their steeply sloping flanks worn into cliffs during
a slow elevation of the land; the worn-down sandstone being
removed, either at the time when the narrow gorges were cut by
the retreating sea, or subsequently by alluvial action.

Soon after leaving the Blackheath we descended from the sandstone
platform by the pass of Mount Victoria. To effect this pass an
enormous quantity of stone has been cut through; the design and
its manner of execution being worthy of any line of road in
England. We now entered upon a country less elevated by nearly a
thousand feet, and consisting of granite. With the change of rock
the vegetation improved; the trees were both finer and stood
farther apart; and the pasture between them was a little greener
and more plentiful. At Hassan's Walls I left the high-road, and
made a short detour to a farm called Walerawang; to the
superintendent of which I had a letter of introduction from the
owner in Sydney. Mr. Browne had the kindness to ask me to stay
the ensuing day, which I had much pleasure in doing. This place
offers an example of one of the large farming, or rather
sheep-grazing, establishments of the colony. Cattle and horses
are, however, in this case rather more numerous than usual, owing
to some of the valleys being swampy and producing a coarser
pasture. Two or three flat pieces of ground near the house were
cleared and cultivated with corn, which the harvest-men were now
reaping: but no more wheat is sown than sufficient for the annual
support of the labourers employed on the establishment. The usual
number of assigned convict-servants here is about forty, but at
the present time there were rather more. Although the farm was
well stocked with every necessary, there was an apparent absence
of comfort; and not one single woman resided here. The sunset of
a fine day will generally cast an air of happy contentment on any
scene; but here, at this retired farmhouse, the brightest tints
on the surrounding woods could not make me forget that forty
hardened, profligate men were ceasing from their daily labours,
like the slaves from Africa, yet without their holy claim for
compassion.

Early on the next morning Mr. Archer, the joint superintendent,
had the kindness to take me out kangaroo-hunting. We continued
riding the greater part of the day, but had very bad sport, not
seeing a kangaroo, or even a wild dog. The greyhounds pursued a
kangaroo rat into a hollow tree, out of which we dragged it: it
is an animal as large as a rabbit, but with the figure of a
kangaroo. A few years since this country abounded with wild
animals; but now the emu is banished to a long distance, and the
kangaroo is become scarce; to both the English greyhound has been
highly destructive. It may be long before these animals are
altogether exterminated, but their doom is fixed. The aborigines
are always anxious to borrow the dogs from the farmhouses: the
use of them, the offal when an animal is killed, and some milk
from the cows, are the peace-offerings of the settlers, who push
farther and farther towards the interior. The thoughtless
aboriginal, blinded by these trifling advantages, is delighted at
the approach of the white man, who seems predestined to inherit
the country of his children.

Although having poor sport, we enjoyed a pleasant ride. The
woodland is generally so open that a person on horseback can
gallop through it. It is traversed by a few flat-bottomed
valleys, which are green and free from trees: in such spots the
scenery was pretty like that of a park. In the whole country I
scarcely saw a place without the marks of a fire; whether these
had been more or less recent--whether the stumps were more or
less black, was the greatest change which varied the uniformity
so wearisome to the traveller's eye. In these woods there are not
many birds; I saw, however, some large flocks of the white
cockatoo feeding in a corn-field, and a few most beautiful
parrots; crows like our jackdaws were not uncommon, and another
bird something like the magpie. In the dusk of the evening I took
a stroll along a chain of ponds, which in this dry country
represented the course of a river, and had the good fortune to
see several of the famous Ornithorhynchus paradoxus. They were
diving and playing about the surface of the water, but showed so
little of their bodies that they might easily have been mistaken
for water-rats. Mr. Browne shot one: certainly it is a most
extraordinary animal; a stuffed specimen does not at all give a
good idea of the appearance of the head and beak when fresh; the
latter becoming hard and contracted. (19/5. I was interested by
finding here the hollow conical pitfall of the lion-ant, or some
other insect: first a fly fell down the treacherous slope and
immediately disappeared; then came a large but unwary ant; its
struggles to escape being very violent, those curious little jets
of sand, described by Kirby and Spence "Entomology" volume 1 page
425, as being flirted by the insect's tail, were promptly
directed against the expected victim. But the ant enjoyed a
better fate than the fly and escaped the fatal jaws which lay
concealed at the base of the conical hollow. This Australian
pitfall was only about half the size of that made by the European
lion-ant.)

JANUARY 20, 1836.

A long day's ride to Bathurst. Before joining the high road we
followed a mere path through the forest; and the country, with
the exception of a few squatters' huts, was very solitary. We
experienced this day the sirocco-like wind of Australia, which
comes from the parched deserts of the interior. Clouds of dust
were travelling in every direction; and the wind felt as if it
had passed over a fire. I afterwards heard that the thermometer
out of doors had stood at 119 degrees, and in a closed room at 96
degrees. In the afternoon we came in view of the downs of
Bathurst. These undulating but nearly smooth plains are very
remarkable in this country, from being absolutely destitute of
trees. They support only a thin brown pasture. We rode some miles
over this country, and then reached the township of Bathurst,
seated in the middle of what may be called either a very broad
valley, or narrow plain. I was told at Sydney not to form too bad
an opinion of Australia by judging of the country from the
roadside, nor too good a one from Bathurst; in this latter
respect I did not feel myself in the least danger of being
prejudiced. The season, it must be owned, had been one of great
drought, and the country did not wear a favourable aspect;
although I understand it was incomparably worse two or three
months before. The secret of the rapidly growing prosperity of
Bathurst is that the brown pasture which appears to the
stranger's eye so wretched is excellent for sheep-grazing. The
town stands at the height of 2200 feet above the sea, on the
banks of the Macquarie: this is one of the rivers flowing into
the vast and scarcely known interior. The line of watershed which
divides the inland streams from those on the coast, has a height
of about 3000 feet, and runs in a north and south direction at
the distance of from eighty to a hundred miles from the seaside.
The Macquarie figures in the map as a respectable river, and it
is the largest of those draining this part of the watershed; yet
to my surprise I found it a mere chain of ponds, separated from
each other by spaces almost dry. Generally a small stream is
running; and sometimes there are high and impetuous floods.
Scanty as the supply of the water is throughout this district, it
becomes still scantier further inland.

JANUARY 22, 1836.

I commenced my return and followed a new road called Lockyer's
Line along which the country is rather more hilly and
picturesque. This was a long day's ride; and the house where I
wished to sleep was some way off the road, and not easily found.
I met on this occasion, and indeed on all others, a very general
and ready civility among the lower orders, which, when one
considers what they are, and what they have been, would scarcely
have been expected. The farm where I passed the night was owned
by two young men who had only lately come out, and were beginning
a settler's life. The total want of almost every comfort was not
very attractive; but future and certain prosperity was before
their eyes, and that not far distant.

The next day we passed through large tracts of country in flames,
volumes of smoke sweeping across the road. Before noon we joined
our former road and ascended Mount Victoria. I slept at the
Weatherboard, and before dark took another walk to the
amphitheatre. On the road to Sydney I spent a very pleasant
evening with Captain King at Dunheved; and thus ended my little
excursion in the colony of New South Wales.

Before arriving here the three things which interested me most
were--the state of society amongst the higher classes, the
condition of the convicts, and the degree of attraction
sufficient to induce persons to emigrate. Of course, after so
very short a visit, one's opinion is worth scarcely anything; but
it is as difficult not to form some opinion, as it is to form a
correct judgment. On the whole, from what I heard, more than from
what I saw, I was disappointed in the state of society. The whole
community is rancorously divided into parties on almost every
subject. Among those who, from their station in life, ought to be
the best, many live in such open profligacy that respectable
people cannot associate with them. There is much jealousy between
the children of the rich emancipist and the free settlers, the
former being pleased to consider honest men as interlopers. The
whole population, poor and rich, are bent on acquiring wealth:
amongst the higher orders, wool and sheep-grazing form the
constant subject of conversation. There are many serious
drawbacks to the comforts of a family, the chief of which,
perhaps, is being surrounded by convict servants. How thoroughly
odious to every feeling, to be waited on by a man who the day
before, perhaps, was flogged, from your representation, for some
trifling misdemeanour. The female servants are of course much
worse: hence children learn the vilest expressions, and it is
fortunate if not equally vile ideas.

On the other hand, the capital of a person, without any trouble
on his part, produces him treble interest to what it will in
England; and with care he is sure to grow rich. The luxuries of
life are in abundance, and very little dearer than in England,
and most articles of food are cheaper. The climate is splendid,
and perfectly healthy; but to my mind its charms are lost by the
uninviting aspect of the country. Settlers possess a great
advantage in finding their sons of service when very young. At
the age of from sixteen to twenty they frequently take charge of
distant farming stations. This, however, must happen at the
expense of their boys associating entirely with convict servants.
I am not aware that the tone of society has assumed any peculiar
character; but with such habits, and without intellectual
pursuits, it can hardly fail to deteriorate. My opinion is such
that nothing but rather sharp necessity should compel me to
emigrate.

The rapid prosperity and future prospects of this colony are to
me, not understanding these subjects, very puzzling. The two main
exports are wool and whale-oil, and to both of these productions
there is a limit. The country is totally unfit for canals,
therefore there is a not very distant point beyond which the
land-carriage of wool will not repay the expense of shearing and
tending sheep. Pasture everywhere is so thin that settlers have
already pushed far into the interior; moreover, the country
farther inland becomes extremely poor. Agriculture, on account of
the droughts, can never succeed on an extended scale: therefore,
so far as I can see, Australia must ultimately depend upon being
the centre of commerce for the southern hemisphere and perhaps on
her future manufactories. Possessing coal, she always has the
moving power at hand. From the habitable country extending along
the coast, and from her English extraction, she is sure to be a
maritime nation. I formerly imagined that Australia would rise to
be as grand and powerful a country as North America, but now it
appears to me that such future grandeur is rather problematical.

With respect to the state of the convicts, I had still fewer
opportunities of judging than on other points. The first question
is, whether their condition is at all one of punishment: no one
will maintain that it is a very severe one. This, however, I
suppose, is of little consequence as long as it continues to be
an object of dread to criminals at home. The corporeal wants of
the convicts are tolerably well supplied: their prospect of
future liberty and comfort is not distant, and, after good
conduct, certain. A "ticket of leave," which, as long as a man
keeps clear of suspicion as well as of crime, makes him free
within a certain district, is given upon good conduct, after
years proportional to the length of the sentence; yet with all
this, and overlooking the previous imprisonment and wretched
passage out, I believe the years of assignment are passed away
with discontent and unhappiness. As an intelligent man remarked
to me, the convicts know no pleasure beyond sensuality, and in
this they are not gratified. The enormous bribe which Government
possesses in offering free pardons, together with the deep horror
of the secluded penal settlements, destroys confidence between
the convicts, and so prevents crime. As to a sense of shame, such
a feeling does not appear to be known, and of this I witnessed
some very singular proofs. Though it is a curious fact, I was
universally told that the character of the convict population is
one of arrant cowardice; not unfrequently some become desperate,
and quite indifferent as to life, yet a plan requiring cool or
continued courage is seldom put into execution. The worst feature
in the whole case is that although there exists what may be
called a legal reform, and comparatively little is committed
which the law can touch, yet that any moral reform should take
place appears to be quite out of the question. I was assured by
well-informed people that a man who should try to improve, could
not while living with other assigned servants;--his life would be
one of intolerable misery and persecution. Nor must the
contamination of the convict-ships and prisons, both here and in
England, be forgotten. On the whole, as a place of punishment,
the object is scarcely gained; as a real system of reform it has
failed, as perhaps would every other plan; but as a means of
making men outwardly honest,--of converting vagabonds, most
useless in one hemisphere, into active citizens of another, and
thus giving birth to a new and splendid country--a grand centre
of civilisation--it has succeeded to a degree perhaps
unparalleled in history.

JANUARY 30, 1836.

(PLATE 90.  HOBART TOWN AND MOUNT WELLINGTON.)

The "Beagle" sailed for Hobart Town in Van Diemen's Land. On the
5th of February, after a six days' passage, of which the first
part was fine, and the latter very cold and squally, we entered
the mouth of Storm Bay; the weather justified this awful name.
The bay should rather be called an estuary, for it receives at
its head the waters of the Derwent. Near the mouth there are some
extensive basaltic platforms; but higher up the land becomes
mountainous, and is covered by a light wood. The lower parts of
the hills which skirt the bay are cleared; and the bright yellow
fields of corn, and dark green ones of potatoes, appear very
luxuriant. Late in the evening we anchored in the snug cove on
the shores of which stands the capital of Tasmania. The first
aspect of the place was very inferior to that of Sydney; the
latter might be called a city, this is only a town. It stands at
the base of Mount Wellington, a mountain 3100 feet high, but of
little picturesque beauty; from this source, however, it receives
a good supply of water. Round the cove there are some fine
warehouses and on one side a small fort. Coming from the Spanish
settlements, where such magnificent care has generally been paid
to the fortifications, the means of defence in these colonies
appeared very contemptible. Comparing the town with Sydney, I was
chiefly struck with the comparative fewness of the large houses,
either built or building. Hobart Town, from the census of 1835,
contained 13,826 inhabitants, and the whole of Tasmania 36,505.

All the aborigines have been removed to an island in Bass's
Straits, so that Van Diemen's Land enjoys the great advantage of
being free from a native population. This most cruel step seems
to have been quite unavoidable, as the only means of stopping a
fearful succession of robberies, burnings, and murders, committed
by the blacks; and which sooner or later would have ended in
their utter destruction. I fear there is no doubt that this train
of evil and its consequences originated in the infamous conduct
of some of our countrymen. Thirty years is a short period in
which to have banished the last aboriginal from his native
island,--and that island nearly as large as Ireland. The
correspondence on this subject which took place between the
government at home and that of Van Diemen's Land, is very
interesting. Although numbers of natives were shot and taken
prisoners in the skirmishing, which was going on at intervals for
several years, nothing seems fully to have impressed them with
the idea of our overwhelming power, until the whole island, in
1830, was put under martial law, and by proclamation the whole
population commanded to assist in one great attempt to secure the
entire race. The plan adopted was nearly similar to that of the
great hunting-matches in India: a line was formed reaching across
the island, with the intention of driving the natives into a
cul-de-sac on Tasman's peninsula. The attempt failed; the
natives, having tied up their dogs, stole during one night
through the lines. This is far from surprising, when their
practised senses and usual manner of crawling after wild animals
is considered. I have been assured that they can conceal
themselves on almost bare ground, in a manner which until
witnessed is scarcely credible; their dusky bodies being easily
mistaken for the blackened stumps which are scattered all over
the country. I was told of a trial between a party of Englishmen
and a native, who was to stand in full view on the side of a bare
hill; if the Englishmen closed their eyes for less than a minute,
he would squat down, and then they were never able to distinguish
him from the surrounding stumps. But to return to the
hunting-match; the natives understanding this kind of warfare,
were terribly alarmed, for they at once perceived the power and
numbers of the whites. Shortly afterwards a party of thirteen
belonging to two tribes came in; and, conscious of their
unprotected condition, delivered themselves up in despair.
Subsequently by the intrepid exertions of Mr. Robinson, an active
and benevolent man, who fearlessly visited by himself the most
hostile of the natives, the whole were induced to act in a
similar manner. They were then removed to an island, where food
and clothes were provided them. Count Strzelecki states that "at
the epoch of their deportation in 1835, the number of natives
amounted to 210. In 1842, that is after the interval of seven
years, they mustered only fifty-four individuals; and, while each
family of the interior of New South Wales, uncontaminated by
contact with the whites, swarms with children, those of Flinders'
Island had during eight years an accession of only fourteen in
number!" (19/6. "Physical Description of New South Wales and Van
Diemen's Land" page 354.)

The "Beagle" stayed here ten days, and in this time I made
several pleasant little excursions, chiefly with the object of
examining the geological structure of the immediate
neighbourhood. The main points of interest consist, first in some
highly fossiliferous strata belonging to the Devonian or
Carboniferous period; secondly, in proofs of a late small rise of
the land; and lastly, in a solitary and superficial patch of
yellowish limestone or travertin, which contains numerous
impressions of leaves of trees, together with land-shells, not
now existing. It is not improbable that this one small quarry
includes the only remaining record of the vegetation of Van
Diemen's Land during one former epoch.

The climate here is damper than in New South Wales, and hence the
land is more fertile. Agriculture flourishes; the cultivated
fields look well, and the gardens abound with thriving vegetables
and fruit-trees. Some of the farmhouses, situated in retired
spots, had a very attractive appearance. The general aspect of
the vegetation is similar to that of Australia; perhaps it is a
little more green and cheerful; and the pasture between the trees
rather more abundant. One day I took a long walk on the side of
the bay opposite to the town: I crossed in a steamboat, two of
which are constantly plying backwards and forwards. The machinery
of one of these vessels was entirely manufactured in this colony,
which, from its very foundation, then numbered only three and
thirty years! Another day I ascended Mount Wellington; I took
with me a guide, for I failed in a first attempt, from the
thickness of the wood. Our guide, however, was a stupid fellow,
and conducted us to the southern and damp side of the mountain,
where the vegetation was very luxuriant; and where the labour of
the ascent, from the number of rotten trunks, was almost as great
as on a mountain in Tierra del Fuego or in Chiloe. It cost us
five and a half hours of hard climbing before we reached the
summit. In many parts the Eucalypti grew to a great size and
composed a noble forest. In some of the dampest ravines
tree-ferns flourished in an extraordinary manner; I saw one which
must have been at least twenty feet high to the base of the
fronds, and was in girth exactly six feet. The fronds, forming
the most elegant parasols, produced a gloomy shade, like that of
the first hour of night. The summit of the mountain is broad and
flat and is composed of huge angular masses of naked greenstone.
Its elevation is 3100 feet above the level of the sea. The day
was splendidly clear, and we enjoyed a most extensive view; to
the north, the country appeared a mass of wooded mountains, of
about the same height with that on which we were standing, and
with an equally tame outline: to the south the broken land and
water, forming many intricate bays, was mapped with clearness
before us. After staying some hours on the summit we found a
better way to descend, but did not reach the "Beagle" till eight
o'clock, after a severe day's work.

FEBRUARY 7, 1836.

The "Beagle" sailed from Tasmania, and, on the 6th of the ensuing
month, reached King George's Sound, situated close to the
south-west corner of Australia. We stayed there eight days; and
we did not during our voyage pass a more dull and uninteresting
time. The country, viewed from an eminence, appears a woody
plain, with here and there rounded and partly bare hills of
granite protruding. One day I went out with a party, in hopes of
seeing a kangaroo-hunt, and walked over a good many miles of
country. Everywhere we found the soil sandy, and very poor; it
supported either a coarse vegetation of thin, low brushwood and
wiry grass, or a forest of stunted trees. The scenery resembled
that of the high sandstone platform of the Blue Mountains; the
Casuarina (a tree somewhat resembling a Scotch fir) is, however,
here in greater number, and the Eucalyptus in rather less. In the
open parts there were many grass-trees,--a plant which, in
appearance, has some affinity with the palm; but, instead of
being surmounted by a crown of noble fronds, it can boast merely
of a tuft of very coarse grass-like leaves. The general bright
green colour of the brushwood and other plants, viewed from a
distance, seemed to promise fertility. A single walk, however,
was enough to dispel such an illusion; and he who thinks with me
will never wish to walk again in so uninviting a country.

One day I accompanied Captain Fitz Roy to Bald Head, the place
mentioned by so many navigators, where some imagined that they
saw corals, and others that they saw petrified trees, standing in
the position in which they had grown. According to our view, the
beds have been formed by the wind having heaped up fine sand,
composed of minute rounded particles of shells and corals, during
which process branches and roots of trees, together with many
land-shells, became enclosed. The whole then became consolidated
by the percolation of calcareous matter; and the cylindrical
cavities left by the decaying of the wood were thus also filled
up with a hard pseudo-stalactitical stone. The weather is now
wearing away the softer parts, and in consequence the hard casts
of the roots and branches of the trees project above the surface,
and, in a singularly deceptive manner, resemble the stumps of a
dead thicket.

A large tribe of natives, called the White Cockatoo men happened
to pay the settlement a visit while we were there. These men, as
well as those of the tribe belonging to King George's Sound,
being tempted by the offer of some tubs of rice and sugar, were
persuaded to hold a "corrobery," or great dancing-party. As soon
as it grew dark, small fires were lighted, and the men commenced
their toilet, which consisted in painting themselves white in
spots and lines. As soon as all was ready, large fires were kept
blazing, round which the women and children were collected as
spectators; the Cockatoo and King George's men formed two
distinct parties, and generally danced in answer to each other.
The dancing consisted in their running either sideways or in
Indian file into an open space, and stamping the ground with
great force as they marched together. Their heavy footsteps were
accompanied by a kind of grunt, by beating their clubs and spears
together, and by various other gesticulations, such as extending
their arms and wriggling their bodies. It was a most rude,
barbarous scene, and, to our ideas, without any sort of meaning;
but we observed that the black women and children watched it with
the greatest pleasure. Perhaps these dances originally
represented actions, such as wars and victories; there was one
called the Emu dance, in which each man extended his arm in a
bent manner, like the neck of that bird. In another dance one man
imitated the movements of a kangaroo grazing in the woods, whilst
a second crawled up and pretended to spear him. When both tribes
mingled in the dance, the ground trembled with the heaviness of
their steps, and the air resounded with their wild cries. Every
one appeared in high spirits, and the group of nearly naked
figures, viewed by the light of the blazing fires, all moving in
hideous harmony, formed a perfect display of a festival amongst
the lowest barbarians. In Tierra del Fuego we have beheld many
curious scenes in savage life, but never, I think, one where the
natives were in such high spirits, and so perfectly at their
ease. After the dancing was over the whole party formed a great
circle on the ground, and the boiled rice and sugar was
distributed, to the delight of all.

After several tedious delays from clouded weather, on the 14th of
March we gladly stood out of King George's Sound on our course to
Keeling Island. Farewell, Australia! you are a rising child, and
doubtless some day will reign a great princess in the South; but
you are too great and ambitious for affection, yet not great
enough for respect. I leave your shores without sorrow or regret.

(PLATE 91.  AUSTRALIAN GROUP OF WEAPONS AND THROWING STICKS.)


CHAPTER XX.

(PLATE 92.  INSIDE AN ATOLL, KEELING ISLAND.)

KEELING ISLAND:--CORAL FORMATIONS.

Keeling Island.
Singular appearance.
Scanty Flora.
Transport of seeds.
Birds and insects.
Ebbing and flowing springs.
Fields of dead coral.
Stones transported in the roots of trees.
Great crab.
Stinging corals.
Coral-eating fish.
Coral formations.
Lagoon islands or atolls.
Depth at which reef-building corals can live.
Vast areas interspersed with low coral islands.
Subsidence of their foundations.
Barrier reefs.
Fringing reefs.
Conversion of fringing-reefs into barrier-reefs, and into atolls.
Evidence of changes in level.
Breaches in barrier-reefs.
Maldiva atolls; their peculiar structure.
Dead and submerged reefs.
Areas of subsidence and elevation.
Distribution of volcanoes.
Subsidence slow and vast in amount.

APRIL 1, 1836.

We arrived in view of the Keeling or Cocos Islands, situated in
the Indian Ocean, and about six hundred miles distant from the
coast of Sumatra. This is one of the lagoon-islands (or atolls)
of coral formation similar to those in the Low Archipelago which
we passed near. When the ship was in the channel at the entrance,
Mr. Liesk, an English resident, came off in his boat. The history
of the inhabitants of this place, in as few words as possible, is
as follows. About nine years ago, Mr. Hare, a worthless
character, brought from the East Indian archipelago a number of
Malay slaves, which now, including children, amount to more than
a hundred. Shortly afterwards Captain Ross, who had before
visited these islands in his merchant-ship, arrived from England,
bringing with him his family and goods for settlement: along with
him came Mr. Liesk, who had been a mate in his vessel. The Malay
slaves soon ran away from the islet on which Mr. Hare was
settled, and joined Captain Ross's party. Mr. Hare upon this was
ultimately obliged to leave the place.

The Malays are now nominally in a state of freedom, and certainly
are so as far as regards their personal treatment; but in most
other points they are considered as slaves. From their
discontented state, from the repeated removals from islet to
islet, and perhaps also from a little mismanagement, things are
not very prosperous. The island has no domestic quadruped
excepting the pig, and the main vegetable production is the
cocoa-nut. The whole prosperity of the place depends on this
tree; the only exports being oil from the nut, and the nuts
themselves, which are taken to Singapore and Mauritius, where
they are chiefly used, when grated, in making curries. On the
cocoa-nut, also, the pigs, which are loaded with fat, almost
entirely subsist, as do the ducks and poultry. Even a huge
land-crab is furnished by nature with the means to open and feed
on this most useful production.

The ring-formed reef of the lagoon-island is surmounted in the
greater part of its length by linear islets. On the northern or
leeward side there is an opening through which vessels can pass
to the anchorage within. On entering, the scene was very curious
and rather pretty; its beauty, however, entirely depended on the
brilliancy of the surrounding colours. The shallow, clear, and
still water of the lagoon, resting in its greater part on white
sand, is, when illumined by a vertical sun, of the most vivid
green. This brilliant expanse, several miles in width, is on all
sides divided, either by a line of snow-white breakers from the
dark heaving waters of the ocean, or from the blue vault of
heaven by the strips of land, crowned by the level tops of the
cocoa-nut trees. As a white cloud here and there affords a
pleasing contrast with the azure sky, so in the lagoon bands of
living coral darken the emerald green water.

The next morning after anchoring I went on shore on Direction
Island. The strip of dry land is only a few hundred yards in
width; on the lagoon side there is a white calcareous beach, the
radiation from which under this sultry climate was very
oppressive; and on the outer coast a solid broad flat of
coral-rock served to break the violence of the open sea.
Excepting near the lagoon, where there is some sand, the land is
entirely composed of rounded fragments of coral. In such a loose,
dry, stony soil, the climate of the intertropical regions alone
could produce a vigorous vegetation. On some of the smaller
islets nothing could be more elegant than the manner in which the
young and full-grown cocoa-nut trees, without destroying each
other's symmetry, were mingled into one wood. A beach of
glittering white sand formed a border to these fairy spots.

I will now give a sketch of the natural history of these islands,
which, from its very paucity, possesses a peculiar interest. The
cocoa-nut tree, at first glance, seems to compose the whole wood;
there are however, five or six other trees. One of these grows to
a very large size, but, from the extreme softness of its wood, is
useless; another sort affords excellent timber for ship-building.
Besides the trees the number of plants is exceedingly limited and
consists of insignificant weeds. In my collection, which
includes, I believe, nearly the perfect Flora, there are twenty
species without reckoning a moss, lichen, and fungus. To this
number two trees must be added; one of which was not in flower,
and the other I only heard of. The latter is a solitary tree of
its kind, and grows near the beach, where, without doubt, the one
seed was thrown up by the waves. A Guilandina also grows on only
one of the islets. I do not include in the above list the
sugar-cane, banana, some other vegetables, fruit-trees, and
imported grasses. As the islands consist entirely of coral, and
at one time must have existed as mere water-washed reefs, all
their terrestrial productions must have been transported here by
the waves of the sea. In accordance with this, the Florula has
quite the character of a refuge for the destitute: Professor
Henslow informs me that of the twenty species nineteen belong to
different genera, and these again to no less than sixteen
families! (20/1. These plants are described in the "Annals of
Natural History" volume 1 1838 page 337.)

In Holman's "Travels" an account is given, on the authority of
Mr. A.S. Keating, who resided twelve months on these islands, of
the various seeds and other bodies which have been known to have
been washed on shore. (20/2. Holman's "Travels" volume 4 page
378.) "Seeds and plants from Sumatra and Java have been driven up
by the surf on the windward side of the islands. Among them have
been found the Kimiri, native of Sumatra and the peninsula of
Malacca; the cocoa-nut of Balci, known by its shape and size; the
Dadass, which is planted by the Malays with the pepper-vine, the
latter entwining round its trunk, and supporting itself by the
prickles on its stem; the soap-tree; the castor-oil plant; trunks
of the sago palm; and various kinds of seeds unknown to the
Malays settled on the islands. These are all supposed to have
been driven by the north-west monsoon to the coast of New
Holland, and thence to these islands by the south-east
trade-wind. Large masses of Java teak and Yellow wood have also
been found, besides immense trees of red and white cedar, and the
blue gum-wood of New Holland, in a perfectly sound condition. All
the hardy seeds, such as creepers, retain their germinating
power, but the softer kinds, among which is the mangostin, are
destroyed in the passage. Fishing-canoes, apparently from Java,
have at times been washed on shore." It is interesting thus to
discover how numerous the seeds are, which, coming from several
countries, are drifted over the wide ocean. Professor Henslow
tells me he believes that nearly all the plants which I brought
from these islands are common littoral species in the East Indian
archipelago. From the direction, however, of the winds and
currents, it seems scarcely possible that they could have come
here in a direct line. If, as suggested with much probability by
Mr. Keating, they were first carried towards the coast of New
Holland, and thence drifted back together with the productions of
that country, the seeds, before germinating, must have travelled
between 1800 and 2400 miles.

Chamisso, when describing the Radack Archipelago, situated in the
western part of the Pacific, states that "the sea brings to these
islands the seeds and fruits of many trees, most of which have
yet not grown here. The greater part of these seeds appear to
have not yet lost the capability of growing." (20/3. Kotzebue's
"First Voyage" volume 3 page 155.) It is also said that palms and
bamboos from somewhere in the torrid zone, and trunks of northern
firs, are washed on shore; these firs must have come from an
immense distance. These facts are highly interesting. It cannot
be doubted that, if there were land-birds to pick up the seeds
when first cast on shore, and a soil better adapted for their
growth than the loose blocks of coral, the most isolated of the
lagoon islands would in time possess a far more abundant Flora
than they now have.

The list of land animals is even poorer than that of the plants.
Some of the islets are inhabited by rats, which were brought in a
ship from the Mauritius, wrecked here. These rats are considered
by Mr. Waterhouse as identical with the English kind, but they
are smaller, and more brightly coloured. There are no true
land-birds, for a snipe and a rail (Rallus Phillippensis), though
living entirely in the dry herbage, belong to the order of
Waders. Birds of this order are said to occur on several of the
small low islands in the Pacific. At Ascension, where there is no
land-bird, a rail (Porphyrio simplex) was shot near the summit of
the mountain, and it was evidently a solitary straggler. At
Tristan d'Acunha, where, according to Carmichael, there are only
two land-birds, there is a coot. From these facts I believe that
the waders, after the innumerable web-footed species, are
generally the first colonists of small isolated islands. I may
add that whenever I noticed birds, not of oceanic species, very
far out at sea, they always belonged to this order; and hence
they would naturally become the earliest colonists of any remote
point of land.

Of reptiles I saw only one small lizard. Of insects I took pains
to collect every kind. Exclusive of spiders, which were numerous,
there were thirteen species. (20/4. The thirteen species belong
to the following orders:--In the Coleoptera, a minute Elater;
Orthoptera, a Gryllus and a Blatta; Hemiptera, one species;
Homoptera, two; Neuroptera, a Chrysopa; Hymenoptera, two ants;
Lepidoptera nocturna, a Diopaea, and a Pterophorus (?); Diptera,
two species.) Of these one only was a beetle. A small ant swarmed
by thousands under the loose dry blocks of coral, and was the
only true insect which was abundant. Although the productions of
the land are thus scanty, if we look to the waters of the
surrounding sea the number of organic beings is indeed infinite.
Chamisso has described the natural history of a lagoon-island in
the Radack Archipelago (20/5. Kotzebue's "First Voyage" volume 3
page 222.); and it is remarkable how closely its inhabitants, in
number and kind, resemble those of Keeling Island. There is one
lizard and two waders, namely, a snipe and curlew. Of plants
there are nineteen species, including a fern; and some of these
are the same with those growing here, though on a spot so
immensely remote, and in a different ocean.

The long strips of land, forming the linear islets, have been
raised only to that height to which the surf can throw fragments
of coral, and the wind heap up calcareous sand. The solid flat of
coral rock on the outside, by its breadth, breaks the first
violence of the waves, which otherwise, in a day, would sweep
away these islets and all their productions. The ocean and the
land seem here struggling for mastery: although terra firma has
obtained a footing, the denizens of the water think their claim
at least equally good. In every part one meets hermit crabs of
more than one species, carrying on their backs the shells which
they have stolen from the neighbouring beach. (20/6. The large
claws or pincers of some of these crabs are most beautifully
adapted, when drawn back, to form an operculum to the shell,
nearly as perfect as the proper one originally belonging to the
molluscous animal. I was assured, and as far as my observations
went I found it so, that certain species of the hermit-crab
always use certain species of shells.) Overhead numerous gannets,
frigate-birds, and terns, rest on the trees; and the wood, from
the many nests and from the smell of the atmosphere, might be
called a sea-rookery. The gannets, sitting on their rude nests,
gaze at one with a stupid yet angry air. The noddies, as their
name expresses, are silly little creatures. But there is one
charming bird: it is a small, snow-white tern, which smoothly
hovers at the distance of a few feet above one's head, its large
black eye scanning, with quiet curiosity, your expression. Little
imagination is required to fancy that so light and delicate a
body must be tenanted by some wandering fairy spirit.

SUNDAY, APRIL 3, 1836.

After service I accompanied Captain Fitz Roy to the settlement,
situated at the distance of some miles, on the point of an islet
thickly covered with tall cocoa-nut trees. Captain Ross and Mr.
Liesk live in a large barn-like house open at both ends, and
lined with mats made of woven bark. The houses of the Malays are
arranged along the shore of the lagoon. The whole place had
rather a desolate aspect, for there were no gardens to show the
signs of care and cultivation. The natives belong to different
islands in the East Indian archipelago, but all speak the same
language: we saw the inhabitants of Borneo, Celebes, Java, and
Sumatra. In colour they resemble the Tahitians, from whom they do
not widely differ in features. Some of the women, however, show a
good deal of the Chinese character. I liked both their general
expressions and the sound of their voices. They appeared poor,
and their houses were destitute of furniture; but it was evident
from the plumpness of the little children, that cocoa-nuts and
turtle afford no bad sustenance.

On this island the wells are situated from which ships obtain
water. At first sight it appears not a little remarkable that the
fresh water should regularly ebb and flow with the tides; and it
has even been imagined that sand has the power of filtering the
salt from the sea-water. These ebbing wells are common on some of
the low islands in the West Indies. The compressed sand, or
porous coral rock, is permeated like a sponge with the salt
water, but the rain which falls on the surface must sink to the
level of the surrounding sea, and must accumulate there,
displacing an equal bulk of the salt water. As the water in the
lower part of the great sponge-like coral mass rises and falls
with the tides, so will the water near the surface; and this will
keep fresh, if the mass be sufficiently compact to prevent much
mechanical admixture; but where the land consists of great loose
blocks of coral with open interstices, if a well be dug, the
water, as I have seen, is brackish.

After dinner we stayed to see a curious half superstitious scene
acted by the Malay women. A large wooden spoon dressed in
garments, and which had been carried to the grave of a dead man,
they pretend becomes inspired at the full of the moon, and will
dance and jump about. After the proper preparations, the spoon,
held by two women, became convulsed, and danced in good time to
the song of the surrounding children and women. It was a most
foolish spectacle; but Mr. Liesk maintained that many of the
Malays believed in its spiritual movements. The dance did not
commence till the moon had risen, and it was well worth remaining
to behold her bright orb so quietly shining through the long arms
of the cocoa-nut trees as they waved in the evening breeze. These
scenes of the tropics are in themselves so delicious that they
almost equal those dearer ones at home, to which we are bound by
each best feeling of the mind.

The next day I employed myself in examining the very interesting,
yet simple structure and origin of these islands. The water being
unusually smooth, I waded over the outer flat of dead rock as far
as the living mounds of coral, on which the swell of the open sea
breaks. In some of the gullies and hollows there were beautiful
green and other coloured fishes, and the form and tints of many
of the zoophytes were admirable. It is excusable to grow
enthusiastic over the infinite numbers of organic beings with
which the sea of the tropics, so prodigal of life, teems; yet I
must confess I think those naturalists who have described, in
well-known words, the submarine grottoes decked with a thousand
beauties, have indulged in rather exuberant language.

APRIL 6, 1836.

I accompanied Captain Fitz Roy to an island at the head of the
lagoon: the channel was exceedingly intricate, winding through
fields of delicately branched corals. We saw several turtle and
two boats were then employed in catching them. The water was so
clear and shallow, that although at first a turtle quickly dives
out of sight, yet in a canoe or boat under sail the pursuers
after no very long chase come up to it. A man standing ready in
the bow at this moment dashes through the water upon the turtle's
back; then clinging with both hands by the shell of its neck, he
is carried away till the animal becomes exhausted and is secured.
It was quite an interesting chase to see the two boats thus
doubling about, and the men dashing head foremost into the water
trying to seize their prey. Captain Moresby informs me that in
the Chagos archipelago in this same ocean, the natives, by a
horrible process, take the shell from the back of the living
turtle. "It is covered with burning charcoal, which causes the
outer shell to curl upwards, it is then forced off with a knife,
and before it becomes cold flattened between boards. After this
barbarous process the animal is suffered to regain its native
element, where, after a certain time, a new shell is formed; it
is, however, too thin to be of any service, and the animal always
appears languishing and sickly."

When we arrived at the head of the lagoon we crossed a narrow
islet and found a great surf breaking on the windward coast. I
can hardly explain the reason, but there is to my mind much
grandeur in the view of the outer shores of these lagoon-islands.
There is a simplicity in the barrier-like beach, the margin of
green bushes and tall cocoa-nuts, the solid flat of dead
coral-rock, strewed here and there with great loose fragments,
and the line of furious breakers, all rounding away towards
either hand. The ocean throwing its waters over the broad reef
appears an invincible, all-powerful enemy; yet we see it
resisted, and even conquered, by means which at first seem most
weak and inefficient. It is not that the ocean spares the rock of
coral; the great fragments scattered over the reef, and heaped on
the beach, whence the tall cocoa-nut springs, plainly bespeak the
unrelenting power of the waves. Nor are any periods of repose
granted. The long swell caused by the gentle but steady action of
the trade-wind, always blowing in one direction over a wide area,
causes breakers, almost equalling in force those during a gale of
wind in the temperate regions, and which never cease to rage. It
is impossible to behold these waves without feeling a conviction
that an island, though built of the hardest rock, let it be
porphyry, granite, or quartz, would ultimately yield and be
demolished by such an irresistible power. Yet these low,
insignificant coral-islets stand and are victorious: for here
another power, as an antagonist, takes part in the contest. The
organic forces separate the atoms of carbonate of lime, one by
one, from the foaming breakers, and unite them into a symmetrical
structure. Let the hurricane tear up its thousand huge fragments;
yet what will that tell against the accumulated labour of myriads
of architects at work night and day, month after month? Thus do
we see the soft and gelatinous body of a polypus, through the
agency of the vital laws, conquering the great mechanical power
of the waves of an ocean which neither the art of man nor the
inanimate works of nature could successfully resist.

We did not return on board till late in the evening, for we
stayed a long time in the lagoon, examining the fields of coral
and the gigantic shells of the chama, into which, if a man were
to put his hand, he would not, as long as the animal lived, be
able to withdraw it. Near the head of the lagoon I was much
surprised to find a wide area, considerably more than a mile
square, covered with a forest of delicately branching corals,
which, though standing upright, were all dead and rotten. At
first I was quite at a loss to understand the cause; afterwards
it occurred to me that it was owing to the following rather
curious combination of circumstances. It should, however, first
be stated, that corals are not able to survive even a short
exposure in the air to the sun's rays, so that their upward limit
of growth is determined by that of lowest water at spring tides.
It appears, from some old charts, that the long island to
windward was formerly separated by wide channels into several
islets; this fact is likewise indicated by the trees being
younger on these portions. Under the former condition of the
reef, a strong breeze, by throwing more water over the barrier,
would tend to raise the level of the lagoon. Now it acts in a
directly contrary manner; for the water within the lagoon not
only is not increased by currents from the outside, but is itself
blown outwards by the force of the wind. Hence it is observed
that the tide near the head of the lagoon does not rise so high
during a strong breeze as it does when it is calm. This
difference of level, although no doubt very small, has, I
believe, caused the death of those coral-groves, which under the
former and more open condition of the outer reef had attained the
utmost possible limit of upward growth.

A few miles north of Keeling there is another small atoll, the
lagoon of which is nearly filled up with coral-mud. Captain Ross
found embedded in the conglomerate on the outer coast a
well-rounded fragment of greenstone, rather larger than a man's
head: he and the men with him were so much surprised at this,
that they brought it away and preserved it as a curiosity. The
occurrence of this one stone, where every other particle of
matter is calcareous, certainly is very puzzling. The island has
scarcely ever been visited, nor is it probable that a ship had
been wrecked there. From the absence of any better explanation, I
came to the conclusion that it must have come entangled in the
roots of some large tree: when, however, I considered the great
distance from the nearest land, the combination of chances
against a stone thus being entangled, the tree washed into the
sea, floated so far, then landed safely, and the stone finally so
embedded as to allow of its discovery, I was almost afraid of
imagining a means of transport apparently so improbable. It was
therefore with great interest that I found Chamisso, the justly
distinguished naturalist who accompanied Kotzebue, stating that
the inhabitants of the Radack Archipelago, a group of lagoon
islands in the midst of the Pacific, obtained stones for
sharpening their instruments by searching the roots of trees
which are cast upon the beach. It will be evident that this must
have happened several times, since laws have been established
that such stones belong to the chief, and a punishment is
inflicted on any one who attempts to steal them. When the
isolated position of these small islands in the midst of a vast
ocean--their great distance from any land excepting that of coral
formation, attested by the value which the inhabitants, who are
such bold navigators, attach to a stone of any kind --and the
slowness of the currents of the open sea, are all considered, the
occurrence of pebbles thus transported does appear wonderful.
(20/7. Some natives carried by Kotzebue to Kamtschatka collected
stones to take back to their country.) Stones may often be thus
carried; and if the island on which they are stranded is
constructed of any other substance besides coral, they would
scarcely attract attention, and their origin at least would never
be guessed. Moreover, this agency may long escape discovery from
the probability of trees, especially those loaded with stones,
floating beneath the surface. In the channels of Tierra del Fuego
large quantities of drift timber are cast upon the beach, yet it
is extremely rare to meet a tree swimming on the water. These
facts may possibly throw light on single stones, whether angular
or rounded, occasionally found embedded in fine sedimentary
masses.

During another day I visited West Islet, on which the vegetation
was perhaps more luxuriant than on any other. The cocoa-nut trees
generally grow separate, but here the young ones flourished
beneath their tall parents, and formed with their long and curved
fronds the most shady arbours. Those alone who have tried it know
how delicious it is to be seated in such shade, and drink the
cool pleasant fluid of the cocoa-nut. In this island there is a
large bay-like space, composed of the finest white sand: it is
quite level and is only covered by the tide at high water; from
this large bay smaller creeks penetrate the surrounding woods. To
see a field of glittering white sand representing water, with the
cocoa-nut trees extending their tall and waving trunks round the
margin, formed a singular and very pretty view.

I have before alluded to a crab which lives on the cocoa-nuts; it
is very common on all parts of the dry land, and grows to a
monstrous size: it is closely allied or identical with the Birgos
latro. The front pair of legs terminate in very strong and heavy
pincers, and the last pair are fitted with others weaker and much
narrower. It would at first be thought quite impossible for a
crab to open a strong cocoa-nut covered with the husk; but Mr.
Liesk assures me that he has repeatedly seen this effected. The
crab begins by tearing the husk, fibre by fibre, and always from
that end under which the three eye-holes are situated; when this
is completed, the crab commences hammering with its heavy claws
on one of the eye-holes till an opening is made. Then turning
round its body, by the aid of its posterior and narrow pair of
pincers it extracts the white albuminous substance. I think this
is as curious a case of instinct as ever I heard of, and likewise
of adaptation in structure between two objects apparently so
remote from each other in the scheme of nature as a crab and a
cocoa-nut tree. The Birgos is diurnal in its habits; but every
night it is said to pay a visit to the sea, no doubt for the
purpose of moistening its branchiae. The young are likewise
hatched, and live for some time, on the coast. These crabs
inhabit deep burrows, which they hollow out beneath the roots of
trees; and where they accumulate surprising quantities of the
picked fibres of the cocoa-nut husk, on which they rest as on a
bed. The Malays sometimes take advantage of this, and collect the
fibrous mass to use as junk. These crabs are very good to eat;
moreover, under the tail of the larger ones there is a mass of
fat, which, when melted, sometimes yields as much as a
quart-bottleful of limpid oil. It has been stated by some authors
that the Birgos crawls up the cocoa-nut trees for the purpose of
stealing the nuts: I very much doubt the possibility of this; but
with the Pandanus the task would be very much easier. (20/8. See
"Proceedings of the Zoological Society" 1832 page 17.) I was told
by Mr. Liesk that on these islands the Birgos lives only on the
nuts which have fallen to the ground.

Captain Moresby informs me that this crab inhabits the Chagos and
Seychelle groups, but not the neighbouring Maldiva archipelago.
It formerly abounded at Mauritius, but only a few small ones are
now found there. In the Pacific this species, or one with closely
allied habits, is said to inhabit a single coral island north of
the Society group. (20/9. Tyerman and Bennett "Voyage" etc.
volume 2 page 33.) To show the wonderful strength of the front
pair of pincers, I may mention that Captain Moresby confined one
in a strong tin box, which had held biscuits, the lid being
secured with wire; but the crab turned down the edges and
escaped. In turning down the edges it actually punched many small
holes quite through the tin!

I was a good deal surprised by finding two species of coral of
the genus Millepora (M. complanata and alcicornis), possessed of
the power of stinging. The stony branches or plates, when taken
fresh from the water, have a harsh feel and are not slimy,
although possessing a strong and disagreeable smell. The stinging
property seems to vary in different specimens: when a piece was
pressed or rubbed on the tender skin of the face or arm, a
pricking sensation was usually caused, which came on after the
interval of a second, and lasted only for a few minutes. One day,
however, by merely touching my face with one of the branches,
pain was instantaneously caused; it increased as usual after a
few seconds, and remaining sharp for some minutes, was
perceptible for half an hour afterwards. The sensation was as bad
as that from a nettle, but more like that caused by the Physalia
or Portuguese man-of-war. Little red spots were produced on the
tender skin of the arm, which appeared as if they would have
formed watery pustules, but did not. M. Quoy mentions this case
of the Millepora; and I have heard of stinging corals in the West
Indies. Many marine animals seem to have this power of stinging:
besides the Portuguese man-of-war, many jelly-fish, and the
Aplysia or sea-slug of the Cape de Verd Islands, it is stated in
the "Voyage of the Astrolabe" that an Actinia or sea-anemone, as
well as a flexible coralline allied to Sertularia, both possess
this means of offence or defence. In the East Indian sea a
stinging sea-weed is said to be found.

Two species of fish, of the genus Scarus, which are common here,
exclusively feed on coral: both are coloured of a splendid
bluish-green, one living invariably in the lagoon, and the other
amongst the outer breakers. Mr. Liesk assured us that he had
repeatedly seen whole shoals grazing with their strong bony jaws
on the tops of the coral branches: I opened the intestines of
several and found them distended with yellowish calcareous sandy
mud. The slimy disgusting Holuthuriae (allied to our star-fish),
which the Chinese gourmands are so fond of, also feed largely, as
I am informed by Dr. Allan, on corals; and the bony apparatus
within their bodies seems well adapted for this end. These
holuthuriae, the fish, the numerous burrowing shells, and
nereidous worms, which perforate every block of dead coral, must
be very efficient agents in producing the fine white mud which
lies at the bottom and on the shores of the lagoon. A portion,
however, of this mud, which when wet resembled pounded chalk, was
found by Professor Ehrenberg to be partly composed of
siliceous-shielded infusoria.

APRIL 12, 1836.

In the morning we stood out of the lagoon on our passage to the
Isle of France. I am glad we have visited these islands: such
formations surely rank high amongst the wonderful objects of this
world. Captain Fitz Roy found no bottom with a line 7200 feet in
length, at the distance of only 2200 yards from the shore; hence
this island forms a lofty submarine mountain, with sides steeper
even than those of the most abrupt volcanic cone. The
saucer-shaped summit is nearly ten miles across; and every single
atom, from the least particle to the largest fragment of rock, in
this great pile, which however is small compared with very many
other lagoon islands, bears the stamp of having been subjected to
organic arrangement. (20/10. I exclude, of course, some soil
which has been imported here in vessels from Malacca and Java,
and likewise some small fragments of pumice, drifted here by the
waves. The one block of greenstone, moreover, on the northern
island must be excepted.) We feel surprise when travellers tell
us of the vast dimensions of the Pyramids and other great ruins,
but how utterly insignificant are the greatest of these, when
compared to these mountains of stone accumulated by the agency of
various minute and tender animals! This is a wonder which does
not at first strike the eye of the body, but, after reflection,
the eye of reason.

(PLATE 93.  WHITSUNDAY ISLAND.)

I will now give a very brief account of the three great classes
of coral-reefs; namely, Atolls, Barrier, and Fringing Reefs, and
will explain my views on their formation. (20/11. These were
first read before the Geological Society in May 1837 and have
since been developed in a separate volume on the "Structure and
Distribution of Coral Reefs.") Almost every voyager who has
crossed the Pacific has expressed his unbounded astonishment at
the lagoon islands, or as I shall for the future call them by
their Indian name of atolls, and has attempted some explanation.
Even as long ago as the year 1605, Pyrard de Laval well
exclaimed, "C'est une merveille de voir chacun de ces atollons,
environn d'un grand banc de pierre tout autour, n'y ayant point
d'artifice humain." The accompanying sketch of Whitsunday Island
in the Pacific, copied from Captain Beechey's admirable "Voyage"
(Plate 93), gives but a faint idea of the singular aspect of an
atoll: it is one of the smallest size, and has its narrow islets
united together in a ring. The immensity of the ocean, the fury
of the breakers, contrasted with the lowness of the land and the
smoothness of the bright green water within the lagoon, can
hardly be imagined without having been seen.

The earlier voyagers fancied that the coral-building animals
instinctively built up their great circles to afford themselves
protection in the inner parts; but so far is this from the truth
that those massive kinds, to whose growth on the exposed outer
shores the very existence of the reef depends, cannot live within
the lagoon, where other delicately-branching kinds flourish.
Moreover, on this view, many species of distinct genera and
families are supposed to combine for one end; and of such a
combination, not a single instance can be found in the whole of
nature. The theory that has been most generally received is that
atolls are based on submarine craters; but when we consider the
form and size of some, the number, proximity, and relative
positions of others, this idea loses its plausible character:
thus Suadiva atoll is 44 geographical miles in diameter in one
line, by 34 miles in another line; Rimsky is 54 by 20 miles
across, and it has a strangely sinuous margin; Bow atoll is 30
miles long, and on an average only 6 in width; Menchicoff atoll
consists of three atolls united or tied together. This theory,
moreover, is totally inapplicable to the northern Maldiva atolls
in the Indian Ocean (one of which is 88 miles in length, and
between 10 and 20 in breadth), for they are not bounded like
ordinary atolls by narrow reefs, but by a vast number of separate
little atolls; other little atolls rising out of the great
central lagoon-like spaces. A third and better theory was
advanced by Chamisso, who thought that from the corals growing
more vigorously where exposed to the open sea, as undoubtedly is
the case, the outer edges would grow up from the general
foundation before any other part, and that this would account for
the ring or cup-shaped structure. But we shall immediately see,
that in this, as well as in the crater-theory, a most important
consideration has been overlooked, namely, on what have the
reef-building corals, which cannot live at a great depth, based
their massive structures?

Numerous soundings were carefully taken by Captain Fitz Roy on
the steep outside of Keeling atoll, and it was found that within
ten fathoms the prepared tallow at the bottom of the lead
invariably came up marked with the impressions of living corals,
but as perfectly clean as if it had been dropped on a carpet of
turf; as the depth increased, the impressions became less
numerous, but the adhering particles of sand more and more
numerous, until at last it was evident that the bottom consisted
of a smooth sandy layer; to carry on the analogy of the turf, the
blades of grass grew thinner and thinner, till at last the soil
was so sterile that nothing sprang from it. From these
observations, confirmed by many others, it may be safely inferred
that the utmost depth at which corals can construct reefs is
between 20 and 30 fathoms. Now there are enormous areas in the
Pacific and Indian Oceans in which every single island is of
coral formation, and is raised only to that height to which the
waves can throw up fragments, and the winds pile up sand. Thus
the Radack group of atolls is an irregular square, 520 miles long
and 240 broad; the Low Archipelago is elliptic-formed, 840 miles
in its longer, and 420 in its shorter axis: there are other small
groups and single low islands between these two archipelagoes,
making a linear space of ocean actually more than 4000 miles in
length, in which not one single island rises above the specified
height. Again, in the Indian Ocean there is a space of ocean 1500
miles in length, including three archipelagoes, in which every
island is low and of coral formation. From the fact of the
reef-building corals not living at great depths, it is absolutely
certain that throughout these vast areas, wherever there is now
an atoll, a foundation must have originally existed within a
depth of from 20 to 30 fathoms from the surface. It is improbable
in the highest degree that broad, lofty, isolated, steep-sided
banks of sediment, arranged in groups and lines hundreds of
leagues in length, could have been deposited in the central and
profoundest parts of the Pacific and Indian Oceans, at an immense
distance from any continent, and where the water is perfectly
limpid. It is equally improbable that the elevatory forces should
have uplifted throughout the above vast areas, innumerable great
rocky banks within 20 to 30 fathoms, or 120 to 180 feet, of the
surface of the sea, and not one single point above that level;
for where on the whole face of the globe can we find a single
chain of mountains, even a few hundred miles in length, with
their many summits rising within a few feet of a given level, and
not one pinnacle above it? If then the foundations, whence the
atoll-building corals sprang, were not formed of sediment, and if
they were not lifted up to the required level, they must of
necessity have subsided into it; and this at once solves the
difficulty. For as mountain after mountain, and island after
island, slowly sank beneath the water, fresh bases would be
successively afforded for the growth of the corals. It is
impossible here to enter into all the necessary details, but I
venture to defy any one to explain in any other manner how it is
possible that numerous islands should be distributed throughout
vast areas--all the islands being low--all being built of corals,
absolutely requiring a foundation within a limited depth from the
surface. (20/12. It is remarkable that Mr. Lyell, even in the
first edition of his "Principles of Geology," inferred that the
amount of subsidence in the Pacific must have exceeded that of
elevation, from the area of land being very small relatively to
the agents there tending to form it, namely, the growth of coral
and volcanic action.)

(PLATE 94.  BARRIER-REEF, BOLABOLA.)

Before explaining how atoll-formed reefs acquire their peculiar
structure, we must turn to the second great class, namely,
Barrier-reefs. These either extend in straight lines in front of
the shores of a continent or of a large island, or they encircle
smaller islands; in both cases, being separated from the land by
a broad and rather deep channel of water, analogous to the lagoon
within an atoll. It is remarkable how little attention has been
paid to encircling barrier-reefs; yet they are truly wonderful
structures. The sketch (Plate 94) represents part of the barrier
encircling the island of Bolabola in the Pacific, as seen from
one of the central peaks. In this instance the whole line of reef
has been converted into land; but usually a snow-white line of
great breakers, with only here and there a single low islet
crowned with cocoa-nut trees, divides the dark heaving waters of
the ocean from the light green expanse of the lagoon-channel. And
the quiet waters of this channel generally bathe a fringe of low
alluvial soil, loaded with the most beautiful productions of the
tropics, and lying at the foot of the wild, abrupt, central
mountains.

Encircling barrier-reefs are of all sizes, from three miles to no
less than forty-four miles in diameter; and that which fronts one
side, and encircles both ends, of New Caledonia, is 400 miles
long. Each reef includes one, two, or several rocky islands of
various heights; and in one instance, even as many as twelve
separate islands. The reef runs at a greater or less distance
from the included land; in the Society Archipelago generally from
one to three or four miles; but at Hogoleu the reef is 20 miles
on the southern side, and 14 miles on the opposite or northern
side, from the included islands. The depth within the
lagoon-channel also varies much; from 10 to 30 fathoms may be
taken as an average; but at Vanikoro there are spaces no less
than 56 fathoms or 336 feet deep. Internally the reef either
slopes gently into the lagoon-channel, or ends in a perpendicular
wall sometimes between two and three hundred feet under water in
height: externally the reef rises, like an atoll, with extreme
abruptness out of the profound depths of the ocean. What can be
more singular than these structures? We see an island, which may
be compared to a castle situated on the summit of a lofty
submarine mountain, protected by a great wall of coral-rock,
always steep externally and sometimes internally, with a broad
level summit, here and there breached by narrow gateways, through
which the largest ships can enter the wide and deep encircling
moat.

As far as the actual reef of coral is concerned, there is not the
smallest difference in general size, outline, grouping, and even
in quite trifling details of structure, between a barrier and an
atoll. The geographer Balbi has well remarked that an encircled
island is an atoll with high land rising out of its lagoon;
remove the land from within, and a perfect atoll is left.

But what has caused these reefs to spring up at such great
distances from the shores of the included islands? It cannot be
that the corals will not grow close to the land; for the shores
within the lagoon-channel, when not surrounded by alluvial soil,
are often fringed by living reefs; and we shall presently see
that there is a whole class, which I have called Fringing-reefs
from their close attachment to the shores both of continents and
of islands. Again, on what have the reef-building corals, which
cannot live at great depths, based their encircling structures?
This is a great apparent difficulty, analogous to that in the
case of atolls, which has generally been overlooked. It will be
perceived more clearly by inspecting the following sections which
are real ones, taken in north and south lines, through the
islands with their barrier-reefs, of Vanikoro, Gambier, and
Maurua; and they are laid down, both vertically and horizontally,
on the same scale of a quarter of an inch to a mile.

(PLATE 95.  SECTIONS OF BARRIER-REEFS.
1. Vanikoro.
2. Gambier Islands.
3. Maurua.
The horizontal shading shows the barrier-reefs and
lagoon-channels. The inclined shading above the level of the sea
(AA) shows the actual form of the land; the inclined shading
below this line shows its probable prolongation under water.)

It should be observed that the sections might have been taken in
any direction through these islands, or through many other
encircled islands, and the general features would have been the
same. Now bearing in mind that reef-building coral cannot live at
a greater depth than from 20 to 30 fathoms, and that the scale is
so small that the plummets on the right hand show a depth of 200
fathoms, on what are these barrier-reefs based? Are we to suppose
that each island is surrounded by a collar-like submarine ledge
of rock, or by a great bank of sediment, ending abruptly where
the reef ends? If the sea had formerly eaten deeply into the
islands, before they were protected by the reefs, thus having
left a shallow ledge round them under water, the present shores
would have been invariably bounded by great precipices; but this
is most rarely the case. Moreover, on this notion, it is not
possible to explain why the corals should have sprung up, like a
wall, from the extreme outer margin of the ledge, often leaving a
broad space of water within, too deep for the growth of corals.
The accumulation of a wide bank of sediment all round these
islands, and generally widest where the included islands are
smallest, is highly improbable, considering their exposed
positions in the central and deepest parts of the ocean. In the
case of the barrier-reef of New Caledonia, which extends for 150
miles beyond the northern point of the island, in the same
straight line with which it fronts the west coast, it is hardly
possible to believe that a bank of sediment could thus have been
straightly deposited in front of a lofty island, and so far
beyond its termination in the open sea. Finally, if we look to
other oceanic islands of about the same height and of similar
geological constitution, but not encircled by coral-reefs, we may
in vain search for so trifling a circumambient depth as 30
fathoms, except quite near to their shores; for usually land that
rises abruptly out of water, as do most of the encircled and
non-encircled oceanic islands, plunges abruptly under it. On what
then, I repeat, are these barrier reefs based? Why, with their
wide and deep moat-like channels, do they stand so far from the
included land? We shall soon see how easily these difficulties
disappear.

We come now to our third class of Fringing-reefs, which will
require a very short notice. Where the land slopes abruptly under
water, these reefs are only a few yards in width, forming a mere
ribbon or fringe round the shores: where the land slopes gently
under the water the reef extends farther, sometimes even as much
as a mile from the land; but in such cases the soundings outside
the reef always show that the submarine prolongation of the land
is gently inclined. In fact the reefs extend only to that
distance from the shore at which a foundation within the
requisite depth from 20 to 30 fathoms is found. As far as the
actual reef is concerned, there is no essential difference
between it and that forming a barrier or an atoll: it is,
however, generally of less width, and consequently few islets
have been formed on it. From the corals growing more vigorously
on the outside, and from the noxious effect of the sediment
washed inwards, the outer edge of the reef is the highest part,
and between it and the land there is generally a shallow sandy
channel a few feet in depth. Where banks of sediment have
accumulated near to the surface, as in parts of the West Indies,
they sometimes become fringed with corals, and hence in some
degree resemble lagoon-islands or atolls, in the same manner as
fringing-reefs, surrounding gently sloping islands, in some
degree resemble barrier-reefs.

(PLATE 96.  SECTION OF CORAL-REEF.

AA, Outer edges of the fringing-reef, at the level of the sea.
BB, The shores of the fringed island.
A'A', Outer edges of the reef, after its upward growth during a
period of subsidence, now converted into a barrier, with islets
on it.
B'B', The shores of the now encircled islands.
CC, Lagoon-channel.
NB.--In this and Plate 97, the subsidence of the land could be
represented only by an apparent rise in the level of the sea.)

No theory on the formation of coral-reefs can be considered
satisfactory which does not include the three great classes. We
have seen that we are driven to believe in the subsidence of
those vast areas, interspersed with low islands, of which not one
rises above the height to which the wind and waves can throw up
matter, and yet are constructed by animals requiring a
foundation, and that foundation to lie at no great depth. Let us
then take an island surrounded by fringing-reefs, which offer no
difficulty in their structure; and let this island with its reef,
represented by the unbroken lines in Plate 96, slowly subside.
Now as the island sinks down, either a few feet at a time or
quite insensibly, we may safely infer, from what is known of the
conditions favourable to the growth of coral, that the living
masses, bathed by the surf on the margin of the reef, will soon
regain the surface. The water, however, will encroach little by
little on the shore, the island becoming lower and smaller, and
the space between the inner edge of the reef and the beach
proportionally broader. A section of the reef and island in this
state, after a subsidence of several hundred feet, is given by
the dotted lines. Coral islets are supposed to have been formed
on the reef; and a ship is anchored in the lagoon-channel. This
channel will be more or less deep, according to the rate of
subsidence, to the amount of sediment accumulated in it, and to
the growth of the delicately branched corals which can live
there. The section in this state resembles in every respect one
drawn through an encircled island: in fact, it is a real section
(on the scale of .517 of an inch to a mile) through Bolabola in
the Pacific. We can now at once see why encircling barrier-reefs
stand so far from the shores which they front. We can also
perceive that a line drawn perpendicularly down from the outer
edge of the new reef, to the foundation of solid rock beneath the
old fringing-reef, will exceed by as many feet as there have been
feet of subsidence, that small limit of depth at which the
effective corals can live:--the little architects having built up
their great wall-like mass, as the whole sank down, upon a basis
formed of other corals and their consolidated fragments. Thus the
difficulty on this head, which appeared so great, disappears.

If, instead of an island, we had taken the shore of a continent
fringed with reefs, and had imagined it to have subsided, a great
straight barrier, like that of Australia or New Caledonia,
separated from the land by a wide and deep channel, would
evidently have been the result.

(PLATE 97.  SECTION OF CORAL-REEF.
A'A', Outer edges of the barrier-reef at the level of the sea,
with islets on it.
B'B', The shores of the included island.
CC, The lagoon-channel.
A''A'', Outer edges of the reef, now converted into an atoll.
C', The lagoon of the new atoll.
NB.--According to the true scale, the depths of the
lagoon-channel and lagoon are much exaggerated.)

Let us take our new encircling barrier-reef (Plate 97), of which
the section is now represented by unbroken lines, and which, as I
have said, is a real section through Bolabola, and let it go on
subsiding. As the barrier-reef slowly sinks down, the corals will
go on vigorously growing upwards; but as the island sinks, the
water will gain inch by inch on the shore--the separate mountains
first forming separate islands within one great reef--and
finally, the last and highest pinnacle disappearing. The instant
this takes place, a perfect atoll is formed: I have said, remove
the high land from within an encircling barrier-reef, and an
atoll is left, and the land has been removed. We can now perceive
how it comes that atolls, having sprung from encircling
barrier-reefs, resemble them in general size, form, in the manner
in which they are grouped together, and in their arrangement in
single or double lines; for they may be called rude outline
charts of the sunken islands over which they stand. We can
further see how it arises that the atolls in the Pacific and
Indian Oceans extend in lines parallel to the generally
prevailing strike of the high islands and great coast-lines of
those oceans. I venture, therefore, to affirm that on the theory
of the upward growth of the corals during the sinking of the
land, all the leading features in those wonderful structures, the
lagoon-islands or atolls, which have so long excited the
attention of voyagers, as well as in the no less wonderful
barrier-reefs, whether encircling small islands or stretching for
hundreds of miles along the shores of a continent, are simply
explained. (20/13. It has been highly satisfactory to me to find
the following passage in a pamphlet by Mr. Couthouy, one of the
naturalists in the great Antarctic Expedition of the United
States:--"Having personally examined a large number of
coral-islands, and resided eight months among the volcanic class
having shore and partially encircling reefs, I may be permitted
to state that my own observations have impressed a conviction of
the correctness of the theory of Mr. Darwin." The naturalists,
however, of this expedition differ with me on some points
respecting coral formations.)

(PLATE 98.  BOLABOLA ISLAND.)

It may be asked whether I can offer any direct evidence of the
subsidence of barrier-reefs or atolls; but it must be borne in
mind how difficult it must ever be to detect a movement, the
tendency of which is to hide under water the part affected.
Nevertheless, at Keeling atoll I observed on all sides of the
lagoon old cocoa-nut trees undermined and falling; and in one
place the foundation-posts of a shed, which the inhabitants
asserted had stood seven years before just above high-water mark,
but now was daily washed by every tide; on inquiry I found that
three earthquakes, one of them severe, had been felt here during
the last ten years. At Vanikoro the lagoon-channel is remarkably
deep, scarcely any alluvial soil has accumulated at the foot of
the lofty included mountains, and remarkably few islets have been
formed by the heaping of fragments and sand on the wall-like
barrier reef; these facts, and some analogous ones, led me to
believe that this island must lately have subsided and the reef
grown upwards: here again earthquakes are frequent and very
severe. In the Society Archipelago, on the other hand, where the
lagoon-channels are almost choked up, where much low alluvial
land has accumulated, and where in some cases long islets have
been formed on the barrier-reefs--facts all showing that the
islands have not very lately subsided--only feeble shocks are
most rarely felt. In these coral formations, where the land and
water seem struggling for mastery, it must be ever difficult to
decide between the effects of a change in the set of the tides
and of a slight subsidence: that many of these reefs and atolls
are subject to changes of some kind is certain; on some atolls
the islets appear to have increased greatly within a late period;
on others they have been partially or wholly washed away. The
inhabitants of parts of the Maldiva Archipelago know the date of
the first formation of some islets; in other parts the corals are
now flourishing on water-washed reefs, where holes made for
graves attest the former existence of inhabited land. It is
difficult to believe in frequent changes in the tidal currents of
an open ocean; whereas we have in the earthquakes recorded by the
natives on some atolls, and in the great fissures observed on
other atolls, plain evidence of changes and disturbances in
progress in the subterranean regions.

It is evident, on our theory, that coasts merely fringed by reefs
cannot have subsided to any perceptible amount; and therefore
they must, since the growth of their corals, either have remained
stationary or have been upheaved. Now it is remarkable how
generally it can be shown, by the presence of upraised organic
remains, that the fringed islands have been elevated: and so far,
this is indirect evidence in favour of our theory. I was
particularly struck with this fact, when I found, to my surprise,
that the descriptions given by MM. Quoy and Gaimard were
applicable, not to reefs in general as implied by them, but only
to those of the fringing class; my surprise, however, ceased when
I afterwards found that, by a strange chance, all the several
islands visited by these eminent naturalists could be shown by
their own statements to have been elevated within a recent
geological era.

Not only the grand features in the structure of barrier-reefs and
of atolls, and of their likeness to each other in form, size, and
other characters, are explained on the theory of
subsidence--which theory we are independently forced to admit in
the very areas in question, from the necessity of finding bases
for the corals within the requisite depth--but many details in
structure and exceptional cases can thus also be simply
explained. I will give only a few instances. In barrier-reefs it
has long been remarked with surprise that the passages through
the reef exactly face valleys in the included land, even in cases
where the reef is separated from the land by a lagoon-channel so
wide and so much deeper than the actual passage itself, that it
seems hardly possible that the very small quantity of water or
sediment brought down could injure the corals on the reef. Now,
every reef of the fringing class is breached by a narrow gateway
in front of the smallest rivulet, even if dry during the greater
part of the year, for the mud, sand, or gravel occasionally
washed down kills the corals on which it is deposited.
Consequently, when an island thus fringed subsides, though most
of the narrow gateways will probably become closed by the outward
and upward growth of the corals, yet any that are not closed (and
some must always be kept open by the sediment and impure water
flowing out of the lagoon-channel) will still continue to front
exactly the upper parts of those valleys at the mouths of which
the original basal fringing-reef was breached.

We can easily see how an island fronted only on one side, or on
one side with one end or both ends encircled by barrier-reefs,
might after long-continued subsidence be converted either into a
single wall-like reef, or into an atoll with a great straight
spur projecting from it, or into two or three atolls tied
together by straight reefs--all of which exceptional cases
actually occur. As the reef-building corals require food, are
preyed upon by other animals, are killed by sediment, cannot
adhere to a loose bottom, and may be easily carried down to a
depth whence they cannot spring up again, we need feel no
surprise at the reefs both of atolls and barriers becoming in
parts imperfect. The great barrier of New Caledonia is thus
imperfect and broken in many parts; hence, after long subsidence,
this great reef would not produce one great atoll 400 miles in
length, but a chain or archipelago of atolls, of very nearly the
same dimensions with those in the Maldiva Archipelago. Moreover,
in an atoll once breached on opposite sides, from the likelihood
of the oceanic and tidal currents passing straight through the
breaches, it is extremely improbable that the corals, especially
during continued subsidence, would ever be able again to unite
the rim; if they did not, as the whole sank downwards, one atoll
would be divided into two or more. In the Maldiva Archipelago
there are distinct atolls so related to each other in position,
and separated by channels either unfathomable or very deep (the
channel between Ross and Ari atolls is 150 fathoms, and that
between the north and south Nillandoo atolls is 200 fathoms in
depth), that it is impossible to look at a map of them without
believing that they were once more intimately related. And in
this same archipelago, Mahlos-Mahdoo atoll is divided by a
bifurcating channel from 100 to 132 fathoms in depth, in such a
manner that it is scarcely possible to say whether it ought
strictly to be called three separate atolls, or one great atoll
not yet finally divided.

(PLATE 99.  CORALS.)

I will not enter on many more details; but I must remark that the
curious structure of the northern Maldiva atolls receives (taking
into consideration the free entrance of the sea through their
broken margins) a simple explanation in the upward and outward
growth of the corals, originally based both on small detached
reefs in their lagoons, such as occur in common atolls, and on
broken portions of the linear marginal reef, such as bounds every
atoll of the ordinary form. I cannot refrain from once again
remarking on the singularity of these complex structures--a great
sandy and generally concave disk rises abruptly from the
unfathomable ocean, with its central expanse studded and its edge
symmetrically bordered with oval basins of coral-rock just
lipping the surface of the sea, sometimes clothed with
vegetation, and each containing a lake of clear water!

One more point in detail: as in the two neighbouring
archipelagoes corals flourish in one and not in the other, and as
so many conditions before enumerated must affect their existence,
it would be an inexplicable fact if, during the changes to which
earth, air, and water are subjected, the reef-building corals
were to keep alive for perpetuity on any one spot or area. And as
by our theory the areas including atolls and barrier-reefs are
subsiding, we ought occasionally to find reefs both dead and
submerged. In all reefs, owing to the sediment being washed out
of the lagoon or lagoon-channel to leeward, that side is least
favourable to the long-continued vigorous growth of the corals;
hence dead portions of reef not unfrequently occur on the leeward
side; and these, though still retaining their proper wall-like
form, are now in several instances sunk several fathoms beneath
the surface. The Chagos group appears from some cause, possibly
from the subsidence having been too rapid, at present to be much
less favourably circumstanced for the growth of reefs than
formerly: one atoll has a portion of its marginal reef, nine
miles in length, dead and submerged; a second has only a few
quite small living points which rise to the surface, a third and
fourth are entirely dead and submerged; a fifth is a mere wreck,
with its structure almost obliterated. It is remarkable that in
all these cases the dead reefs and portions of reef lie at nearly
the same depth, namely, from six to eight fathoms beneath the
surface, as if they had been carried down by one uniform
movement. One of these "half-drowned atolls," so called by
Captain Moresby (to whom I am indebted for much invaluable
information), is of vast size, namely, ninety nautical miles
across in one direction, and seventy miles in another line; and
is in many respects eminently curious. As by our theory it
follows that new atolls will generally be formed in each new area
of subsidence, two weighty objections might have been raised,
namely, that atolls must be increasing indefinitely in number;
and secondly, that in old areas of subsidence each separate atoll
must be increasing indefinitely in thickness, if proofs of their
occasional destruction could not have been adduced. Thus have we
traced the history of these great rings of coral-rock, from their
first origin through their normal changes, and through the
occasional accidents of their existence, to their death and final
obliteration.

In my volume on "Coral Formations" I have published a map, in
which I have coloured all the atolls dark-blue, the barrier-reefs
pale-blue, and the fringing reefs red. These latter reefs have
been formed whilst the land has been stationary, or, as appears
from the frequent presence of upraised organic remains, whilst it
has been slowly rising: atolls and barrier-reefs, on the other
hand, have grown up during the directly opposite movement of
subsidence, which movement must have been very gradual, and in
the case of atolls so vast in amount as to have buried every
mountain-summit over wide ocean-spaces. Now in this map we see
that the reefs tinted pale and dark-blue, which have been
produced by the same order of movement, as a general rule
manifestly stand near each other. Again we see that the areas
with the two blue tints are of wide extent; and that they lie
separate from extensive lines of coast coloured red, both of
which circumstances might naturally have been inferred, on the
theory of the nature of the reefs having been governed by the
nature of the earth's movement. It deserves notice that in more
than one instance where single red and blue circles approach near
each other, I can show that there have been oscillations of
level; for in such cases the red or fringed circles consist of
atolls, originally by our theory formed during subsidence, but
subsequently upheaved; and on the other hand, some of the
pale-blue or encircled islands are composed of coral-rock, which
must have been uplifted to its present height before that
subsidence took place, during which the existing barrier-reefs
grew upwards.

Authors have noticed with surprise that although atolls are the
commonest coral-structures throughout some enormous oceanic
tracts, they are entirely absent in other seas, as in the West
Indies: we can now at once perceive the cause, for where there
has not been subsidence, atolls cannot have been formed; and in
the case of the West Indies and parts of the East Indies, these
tracts are known to have been rising within the recent period.
The larger areas, coloured red and blue, are all elongated; and
between the two colours there is a degree of rude alternation, as
if the rising of one had balanced the sinking of the other.
Taking into consideration the proofs of recent elevation both on
the fringed coasts and on some others (for instance, in South
America) where there are no reefs, we are led to conclude that
the great continents are for the most part rising areas: and from
the nature of the coral-reefs, that the central parts of the
great oceans are sinking areas. The East Indian Archipelago, the
most broken land in the world, is in most parts an area of
elevation, but surrounded and penetrated, probably in more lines
than one, by narrow areas of subsidence.

I have marked with vermilion spots all the many known active
volcanos within the limits of this same map. Their entire absence
from every one of the great subsiding areas, coloured either pale
or dark blue, is most striking; and not less so is the
coincidence of the chief volcanic chains with the parts coloured
red, which we are led to conclude have either long remained
stationary, or more generally have been recently upraised.
Although a few of the vermilion spots occur within no great
distance of single circles tinted blue, yet not one single active
volcano is situated within several hundred miles of an
archipelago, or even small group of atolls. It is, therefore, a
striking fact that in the Friendly Archipelago, which consists of
a group of atolls upheaved and since partially worn down, two
volcanos, and perhaps more, are historically known to have been
in action. On the other hand, although most of the islands in the
Pacific which are encircled by barrier-reefs are of volcanic
origin, often with the remnants of craters still distinguishable,
not one of them is known to have ever been in eruption. Hence in
these cases it would appear that volcanos burst forth into action
and become extinguished on the same spots, accordingly as
elevatory or subsiding movements prevail there. Numberless facts
could be adduced to prove that upraised organic remains are
common wherever there are active volcanos; but until it could be
shown that in areas of subsidence volcanos were either absent or
inactive, the inference, however probable in itself, that their
distribution depended on the rising or falling of the earth's
surface, would have been hazardous. But now, I think, we may
freely admit this important deduction.

Taking a final view of the map, and bearing in mind the
statements made with respect to the upraised organic remains, we
must feel astonished at the vastness of the areas which have
suffered changes in level either downwards or upwards, within a
period not geologically remote. It would appear also that the
elevatory and subsiding movements follow nearly the same laws.
Throughout the spaces interspersed with atolls, where not a
single peak of high land has been left above the level of the
sea, the sinking must have been immense in amount. The sinking,
moreover, whether continuous, or recurrent with intervals
sufficiently long for the corals again to bring up their living
edifices to the surface, must necessarily have been extremely
slow. This conclusion is probably the most important one which
can be deduced from the study of coral formations;--and it is one
which it is difficult to imagine how otherwise could ever have
been arrived at. Nor can I quite pass over the probability of the
former existence of large archipelagoes of lofty islands, where
now only rings of coral-rock scarcely break the open expanse of
the sea, throwing some light on the distribution of the
inhabitants of the other high islands, now left standing so
immensely remote from each other in the midst of the great
oceans. The reef-constructing corals have indeed reared and
preserved wonderful memorials of the subterranean oscillations of
level; we see in each barrier-reef a proof that the land has
there subsided, and in each atoll a monument over an island now
lost. We may thus, like unto a geologist who had lived his ten
thousand years and kept a record of the passing changes, gain
some insight into the great system by which the surface of this
globe has been broken up, and land and water interchanged.

(PLATE 100.  BIRGOS LATRO, KEELING ISLAND.)


CHAPTER XXI.

(PLATE 101.  ST. LOUIS, MAURITIUS.)

MAURITIUS TO ENGLAND.

Mauritius, beautiful appearance of.
Great crateriform ring of mountains.
Hindoos.
St. Helena.
History of the changes in the vegetation.
Cause of the extinction of land-shells.
Ascension.
Variation in the imported rats.
Volcanic bombs.
Beds of infusoria.
Bahia, Brazil.
Splendour of tropical scenery.
Pernambuco.
Singular reef.
Slavery.
Return to England.
Retrospect on our voyage.

APRIL 29, 1836.

In the morning we passed round the northern end of Mauritius, or
the Isle of France. From this point of view the aspect of the
island equalled the expectations raised by the many well-known
descriptions of its beautiful scenery. The sloping plain of the
Pamplemousses, interspersed with houses, and coloured by the
large fields of sugar-cane of a bright green, composed the
foreground. The brilliancy of the green was the more remarkable
because it is a colour which generally is conspicuous only from a
very short distance. Towards the centre of the island groups of
wooded mountains rose out of this highly cultivated plain; their
summits, as so commonly happens with ancient volcanic rocks,
being jagged into the sharpest points. Masses of white clouds
were collected around these pinnacles, as if for the sake of
pleasing the stranger's eye. The whole island, with its sloping
border and central mountains, was adorned with an air of perfect
elegance: the scenery, if I may use such an expression, appeared
to the sight harmonious.

I spent the greater part of the next day in walking about the
town and visiting different people. The town is of considerable
size, and is said to contain 20,000 inhabitants; the streets are
very clean and regular. Although the island has been so many
years under the English government, the general character of the
place is quite French: Englishmen speak to their servants in
French, and the shops are all French; indeed I should think that
Calais or Boulogne was much more Anglified. There is a very
pretty little theatre in which operas are excellently performed.
We were also surprised at seeing large booksellers' shops, with
well-stored shelves;--music and reading bespeak our approach to
the old world of civilisation; for in truth both Australia and
America are new worlds.

The various races of men walking in the streets afford the most
interesting spectacle in Port Louis. Convicts from India are
banished here for life; at present there are about 800, and they
are employed in various public works. Before seeing these people,
I had no idea that the inhabitants of India were such
noble-looking figures. Their skin is extremely dark, and many of
the older men had large mustaches and beards of a snow-white
colour; this, together with the fire of their expression, gave
them quite an imposing aspect. The greater number had been
banished for murder and the worst crimes; others for causes which
can scarcely be considered as moral faults, such as for not
obeying, from superstitious motives, the English laws. These men
are generally quiet and well-conducted; from their outward
conduct, their cleanliness and faithful observance of their
strange religious rites, it was impossible to look at them with
the same eyes as on our wretched convicts in New South Wales.

SUNDAY, MAY 1, 1836.

I took a quiet walk along the sea-coast to the north of the town.
The plain in this part is quite uncultivated; it consists of a
field of black lava, smoothed over with coarse grass and bushes,
the latter being chiefly Mimosas. The scenery may be described as
intermediate in character between that of the Galapagos and of
Tahiti; but this will convey a definite idea to very few persons.
It is a very pleasant country, but it has not the charms of
Tahiti, or the grandeur of Brazil. The next day I ascended La
Pouce, a mountain so called from a thumb-like projection, which
rises close behind the town to a height of 2,600 feet. The centre
of the island consists of a great platform, surrounded by old
broken basaltic mountains, with their strata dipping seawards.
The central platform, formed of comparatively recent streams of
lava, is of an oval shape, thirteen geographical miles across in
the line of its shorter axis. The exterior bounding mountains
come into that class of structures called Craters of Elevation,
which are supposed to have been formed not like ordinary craters,
but by a great and sudden upheaval. There appear to me to be
insuperable objections to this view: on the other hand, I can
hardly believe, in this and in some other cases, that these
marginal crateriform mountains are merely the basal remnants of
immense volcanos, of which the summits either have been blown off
or swallowed up in subterranean abysses.

From our elevated position we enjoyed an excellent view over the
island. The country on this side appears pretty well cultivated,
being divided into fields and studded with farm-houses. I was
however assured that of the whole land not more than half is yet
in a productive state; if such be the case, considering the
present large export of sugar, this island, at some future period
when thickly peopled, will be of great value. Since England has
taken possession of it, a period of only twenty-five years, the
export of sugar is said to have increased seventy-five fold. One
great cause of its prosperity is the excellent state of the
roads. In the neighbouring Isle of Bourbon, which remains under
the French government, the roads are still in the same miserable
state as they were here only a few years ago. Although the French
residents must have largely profited by the increased prosperity
of their island, yet the English government is far from popular.

MAY 3, 1836.

In the evening Captain Lloyd, the Surveyor-general, so well known
from his examination of the Isthmus of Panama, invited Mr. Stokes
and myself to his country-house, which is situated on the edge of
Wilheim Plains, and about six miles from the Port. We stayed at
this delightful place two days; standing nearly 800 feet above
the sea, the air was cool and fresh, and on every side there were
delightful walks. Close by a grand ravine has been worn to a
depth of about 500 feet through the slightly inclined streams of
lava, which have flowed from the central platform.

MAY 5, 1836.

Captain Lloyd took us to the Rivire Noire, which is several
miles to the southward, that I might examine some rocks of
elevated coral. We passed through pleasant gardens, and fine
fields of sugar-cane growing amidst huge blocks of lava. The
roads were bordered by hedges of Mimosa, and near many of the
houses there were avenues of the mango. Some of the views where
the peaked hills and the cultivated farms were seen together,
were exceedingly picturesque; and we were constantly tempted to
exclaim "How pleasant it would be to pass one's life in such
quiet abodes!" Captain Lloyd possessed an elephant, and he sent
it half-way with us, that we might enjoy a ride in true Indian
fashion. The circumstance which surprised me most was its quite
noiseless step. This elephant is the only one at present on the
island; but it is said others will be sent for.

MAY 9, 1836.

(PLATE 102.  ST. HELENA.)

We sailed from Port Louis, and, calling at the Cape of Good Hope,
on the 8th of July we arrived off St. Helena. This island, the
forbidding aspect of which has been so often described, rises
abruptly like a huge black castle from the ocean. Near the town,
as if to complete nature's defence, small forts and guns fill up
every gap in the rugged rocks. The town runs up a flat and narrow
valley; the houses look respectable, and are interspersed with a
very few green trees. When approaching the anchorage there was
one striking view: an irregular castle perched on the summit of a
lofty hill, and surrounded by a few scattered fir-trees, boldly
projected against the sky.

The next day I obtained lodgings within a stone's throw of
Napoleon's tomb; it was a capital central situation, whence I
could make excursions in every direction. (21/1. After the
volumes of eloquence which have poured forth on this subject, it
is dangerous even to mention the tomb. A modern traveller, in
twelve lines, burdens the poor little island with the following
titles,--it is a grave, tomb, pyramid, cemetery, sepulchre,
catacomb, sarcophagus, minaret, and mausoleum!) During the four
days I stayed here I wandered over the island from morning to
night and examined its geological history. My lodgings were
situated at a height of about 2000 feet; here the weather was
cold and boisterous, with constant showers of rain; and every now
and then the whole scene was veiled in thick clouds.

Near the coast the rough lava is quite bare: in the central and
higher parts feldspathic rocks by their decomposition have
produced a clayey soil, which, where not covered by vegetation,
is stained in broad bands of many bright colours. At this season
the land, moistened by constant showers, produces a singularly
bright green pasture, which lower and lower down gradually fades
away and at last disappears. In latitude 16 degrees, and at the
trifling elevation of 1500 feet, it is surprising to behold a
vegetation possessing a character decidedly British. The hills
are crowned with irregular plantations of Scotch firs; and the
sloping banks are thickly scattered over with thickets of gorse,
covered with its bright yellow flowers. Weeping-willows are
common on the banks of the rivulets, and the hedges are made of
the blackberry, producing its well-known fruit. When we consider
that the number of plants now found on the island is 746, and
that out of these fifty-two alone are indigenous species, the
rest having been imported, and most of them from England, we see
the reason of the British character of the vegetation. Many of
these English plants appear to flourish better than in their
native country; some also from the opposite quarter of Australia
succeed remarkably well. The many imported species must have
destroyed some of the native kinds; and it is only on the highest
and steepest ridges that the indigenous Flora is now predominant.

The English, or rather Welsh character of the scenery, is kept up
by the numerous cottages and small white houses; some buried at
the bottom of the deepest valleys, and others mounted on the
crests of the lofty hills. Some of the views are striking, for
instance that from near Sir W. Doveton's house, where the bold
peak called Lot is seen over a dark wood of firs, the whole being
backed by the red water-worn mountains of the southern coast. On
viewing the island from an eminence, the first circumstance which
strikes one is the number of the roads and forts: the labour
bestowed on the public works, if one forgets its character as a
prison, seems out of all proportion to its extent or value. There
is so little level or useful land that it seems surprising how so
many people, about 5000, can subsist here. The lower orders, or
the emancipated slaves, are, I believe, extremely poor: they
complain of the want of work. From the reduction in the number of
public servants, owing to the island having been given up by the
East India Company, and the consequent emigration of many of the
richer people, the poverty probably will increase. The chief food
of the working class is rice with a little salt meat; as neither
of these articles are the products of the island, but must be
purchased with money, the low wages tell heavily on the poor
people. Now that the people are blessed with freedom, a right
which I believe they value fully, it seems probable that their
numbers will quickly increase: if so, what is to become of the
little state of St. Helena?

My guide was an elderly man who had been a goatherd when a boy,
and knew every step amongst the rocks. He was of a race many
times crossed, and although with a dusky skin, he had not the
disagreeable expression of a mulatto. He was a very civil, quiet
old man, and such appears the character of the greater number of
the lower classes. It was strange to my ears to hear a man,
nearly white and respectably dressed, talking with indifference
of the times when he was a slave. With my companion, who carried
our dinners and a horn of water, which is quite necessary, as all
the water in the lower valleys is saline, I every day took long
walks.

Beneath the upper and central green circle, the wild valleys are
quite desolate and untenanted. Here, to the geologist, there were
scenes of high interest, showing successive changes and
complicated disturbances. According to my views, St. Helena has
existed as an island from a very remote epoch: some obscure
proofs, however, of the elevation of the land are still extant. I
believe that the central and highest peaks form parts of the rim
of a great crater, the southern half of which has been entirely
removed by the waves of the sea: there is, moreover, an external
wall of black basaltic rocks, like the coast-mountains of
Mauritius, which are older than the central volcanic streams. On
the higher parts of the island considerable numbers of a shell,
long thought to be a marine species, occur imbedded in the soil.
It proves to be a Cochlogena, or land-shell of a very peculiar
form; with it I found six other kinds; and in another spot an
eighth species. (21/2. It deserves notice that all the many
specimens of this shell found by me in one spot differ as a
marked variety from another set of specimens procured from a
different spot.) It is remarkable that none of them are now found
living. Their extinction has probably been caused by the entire
destruction of the woods, and the consequent loss of food and
shelter, which occurred during the early part of the last
century.

The history of the changes which the elevated plains of Longwood
and Deadwood have undergone, as given in General Beatson's
account of the island, is extremely curious. Both plains, it is
said, in former times were covered with wood, and were therefore
called the Great Wood. So late as the year 1716 there were many
trees, but in 1724 the old trees had mostly fallen; and as goats
and hogs had been suffered to range about, all the young trees
had been killed. It appears also from the official records that
the trees were unexpectedly, some years afterwards, succeeded by
a wire grass which spread over the whole surface. (21/3.
Beatson's "St. Helena" Introductory chapter page 4.) General
Beatson adds that now this plain "is covered with fine sward, and
is become the finest piece of pasture on the island." The extent
of surface, probably covered by wood at a former period, is
estimated at no less than two thousand acres; at the present day
scarcely a single tree can be found there. It is also said that
in 1709 there were quantities of dead trees in Sandy Bay; this
place is now so utterly desert that nothing but so well attested
an account could have made me believe that they could ever have
grown there. The fact that the goats and hogs destroyed all the
young trees as they sprang up, and that in the course of time the
old ones, which were safe from their attacks, perished from age,
seems clearly made out. Goats were introduced in the year 1502;
eighty-six years afterwards, in the time of Cavendish, it is
known that they were exceedingly numerous. More than a century
afterwards, in 1731, when the evil was complete and
irretrievable, an order was issued that all stray animals should
be destroyed. It is very interesting thus to find that the
arrival of animals at St. Helena in 1501 did not change the whole
aspect of the island, until a period of two hundred and twenty
years had elapsed: for the goats were introduced in 1502, and in
1724 it is said "the old trees had mostly fallen." There can be
little doubt that this great change in the vegetation affected
not only the land-shells, causing eight species to become
extinct, but likewise a multitude of insects.

St. Helena, situated so remote from any continent, in the midst
of a great ocean, and possessing a unique Flora, excites our
curiosity. The eight land-shells, though now extinct, and one
living Succinea, are peculiar species found nowhere else. Mr.
Cuming, however, informs me that an English Helix is common here,
its eggs no doubt having been imported in some of the many
introduced plants. Mr. Cuming collected on the coast sixteen
species of sea-shells, of which seven, as far as he knows, are
confined to this island. Birds and insects, as might have been
expected, are very few in number; indeed I believe all the birds
have been introduced within late years. (21/4. Among these few
insects I was surprised to find a small Aphodius (nov. spec.) and
an Oryctes, both extremely numerous under dung. When the island
was discovered it certainly possessed no quadruped excepting
PERHAPS a mouse: it becomes, therefore, a difficult point to
ascertain, whether these stercovorous insects have since been
imported by accident, or if aborigines, on what food they
formerly subsisted. On the banks of the Plata, where, from the
vast number of cattle and horses, the fine plains of turf are
richly manured, it is vain to seek the many kinds of dung-feeding
beetles which occur so abundantly in Europe. I observed only an
Oryctes (the insects of this genus in Europe generally feed on
decayed vegetable matter) and two species of Phanaeus, common in
such situations. On the opposite side of the Cordillera in Chiloe
another species of Phanaeus is exceedingly abundant, and it
buries the dung of the cattle in large earthen balls beneath the
ground. There is reason to believe that the genus Phanaeus,
before the introduction of cattle, acted as scavengers to man. In
Europe beetles which find support in the matter which has already
contributed towards the life of other and larger animals, are so
numerous that there must be considerably more than one hundred
different species. Considering this, and observing what a
quantity of food of this kind is lost on the plains of La Plata,
I imagined I saw an instance where man had disturbed that chain
by which so many animals are linked together in their native
country. In Van Diemen's Land, however, I found four species of
Onthophagus, two of Aphodius, and one of a third genus, very
abundant under the dung of cows; yet these latter animals had
been then introduced only thirty-three years. Previous to that
time the kangaroo and some other small animals were the only
quadrupeds; and their dung is of a very different quality from
that of their successors introduced by man. In England the
greater number of stercovorous beetles are confined in their
appetites; that is, they do not depend indifferently on any
quadruped for the means of subsistence. The change, therefore, in
habits which must have taken place in Van Diemen's Land is highly
remarkable. I am indebted to the Reverend F.W. Hope, who, I hope,
will permit me to call him my master in Entomology, for giving me
the names of the foregoing insects.) Partridges and pheasants are
tolerably abundant; the island is much too English not to be
subject to strict game-laws. I was told of a more unjust
sacrifice to such ordinances than I ever heard of even in
England. The poor people formerly used to burn a plant which
grows on the coast-rocks, and export the soda from its ashes; but
a peremptory order came out prohibiting this practice, and giving
as a reason that the partridges would have nowhere to build!

In my walks I passed more than once over the grassy plain,
bounded by deep valleys, on which Longwood stands. Viewed from a
short distance, it appears like a respectable gentleman's
country-seat. In front there are a few cultivated fields, and
beyond them the smooth hill of coloured rocks called the
Flagstaff, and the rugged square black mass of the Barn. On the
whole the view was rather bleak and uninteresting. The only
inconvenience I suffered during my walks was from the impetuous
winds. One day I noticed a curious circumstance: standing on the
edge of a plain, terminated by a great cliff of about a thousand
feet in depth, I saw at the distance of a few yards right to
windward, some tern, struggling against a very strong breeze,
whilst, where I stood, the air was quite calm. Approaching close
to the brink, where the current seemed to be deflected upwards
from the face of the cliff, I stretched out my arm, and
immediately felt the full force of the wind: an invisible
barrier, two yards in width, separated perfectly calm air from a
strong blast.

I so much enjoyed my rambles among the rocks and mountains of St.
Helena that I felt almost sorry on the morning of the 14th to
descend to the town. Before noon I was on board, and the "Beagle"
made sail.

On the 19th of July we reached Ascension. Those who have beheld a
volcanic island situated under an arid climate will at once be
able to picture to themselves the appearance of Ascension. They
will imagine smooth conical hills of a bright red colour, with
their summits generally truncated, rising separately out of a
level surface of black rugged lava. A principal mound in the
centre of the island seems the father of the lesser cones. It is
called Green Hill: its name being taken from the faintest tinge
of that colour, which at this time of the year is barely
perceptible from the anchorage. To complete the desolate scene,
the black rocks on the coast are lashed by a wild and turbulent
sea.

The settlement is near the beach; it consists of several houses
and barracks placed irregularly, but well built of white
freestone. The only inhabitants are marines, and some negroes
liberated from slave-ships, who are paid and victualled by
government. There is not a private person on the island. Many of
the marines appeared well contented with their situation; they
think it better to serve their one-and-twenty years on shore, let
it be what it may, than in a ship; in this choice, if I were a
marine, I should most heartily agree.

The next morning I ascended Green Hill, 2840 feet high, and
thence walked across the island to the windward point. A good
cart-road leads from the coast-settlement to the houses, gardens,
and fields, placed near the summit of the central mountain. On
the roadside there are milestones, and likewise cisterns, where
each thirsty passer-by can drink some good water. Similar care is
displayed in each part of the establishment, and especially in
the management of the springs, so that a single drop of water may
not be lost: indeed the whole island may be compared to a huge
ship kept in first-rate order. I could not help, when admiring
the active industry which had created such effects out of such
means, at the same time regretting that it had been wasted on so
poor and trifling an end. M. Lesson has remarked with justice
that the English nation would have thought of making the island
of Ascension a productive spot, any other people would have held
it as a mere fortress in the ocean.

Near this coast nothing grows; farther inland an occasional green
castor-oil plant, and a few grasshoppers, true friends of the
desert, may be met with. Some grass is scattered over the surface
of the central elevated region, and the whole much resembles the
worse parts of the Welsh mountains. But, scanty as the pasture
appears, about six hundred sheep, many goats, a few cows and
horses, all thrive well on it. Of native animals, land-crabs and
rats swarm in numbers. Whether the rat is really indigenous may
well be doubted; there are two varieties as described by Mr.
Waterhouse; one is of a black colour, with fine glossy fur, and
lives on the grassy summit, the other is brown-coloured and less
glossy, with longer hairs, and lives near the settlement on the
coast. Both these varieties are one-third smaller than the common
black rat (M. rattus); and they differ from it both in the colour
and character of their fur, but in no other essential respect. I
can hardly doubt that these rats (like the common mouse, which
has also run wild) have been imported, and, as at the Galapagos,
have varied from the effect of the new conditions to which they
have been exposed: hence the variety on the summit of the island
differs from that on the coast. Of native birds there are none;
but the guinea-fowl, imported from the Cape de Verd Islands, is
abundant, and the common fowl has likewise run wild. Some cats
which were originally turned out to destroy the rats and mice,
have increased, so as to become a great plague. The island is
entirely without trees, in which, and in every other respect, it
is very far inferior to St. Helena.

One of my excursions took me towards the south-west extremity of
the island. The day was clear and hot, and I saw the island, not
smiling with beauty, but staring with naked hideousness. The lava
streams are covered with hummocks, and are rugged to a degree
which, geologically speaking, is not of easy explanation. The
intervening spaces are concealed with layers of pumice, ashes and
volcanic tuff. Whilst passing this end of the island at sea, I
could not imagine what the white patches were with which the
whole plain was mottled; I now found that they were sea-fowl,
sleeping in such full confidence, that even in mid-day a man
could walk up and seize hold of them. These birds were the only
living creatures I saw during the whole day. On the beach a great
surf, although the breeze was light, came tumbling over the
broken lava rocks.

(PLATE 103.  CELLULAR FORMATION OF VOLCANIC BOMB.)

The geology of this island is in many respects interesting. In
several places I noticed volcanic bombs, that is, masses of lava
which have been shot through the air whilst fluid, and have
consequently assumed a spherical or pear-shape. Not only their
external form, but, in several cases, their internal structure
shows in a very curious manner that they have revolved in their
aerial course. The internal structure of one of these bombs, when
broken, is represented very accurately in Plate 103. The central
part is coarsely cellular, the cells decreasing in size towards
the exterior; where there is a shell-like case about the third of
an inch in thickness, of compact stone, which again is overlaid
by the outside crust of finely cellular lava. I think there can
be little doubt, first, that the external crust cooled rapidly in
the state in which we now see it; secondly, that the still fluid
lava within was packed by the centrifugal force generated by the
revolving of the bomb, against the external cooled crust, and so
produced the solid shell of stone; and lastly, that the
centrifugal force, by relieving the pressure in the more central
parts of the bomb, allowed the heated vapours to expand their
cells, thus forming the coarse cellular mass of the centre.

A hill formed of the older series of volcanic rocks, and which
has been incorrectly considered as the crater of a volcano, is
remarkable from its broad, slightly hollowed, and circular summit
having been filled up with many successive layers of ashes and
fine scoriae. These saucer-shaped layers crop out on the margin,
forming perfect rings of many different colours, giving to the
summit a most fantastic appearance; one of these rings is white
and broad, and resembles a course round which horses have been
exercised; hence the hill has been called the Devil's Riding
School. I brought away specimens of one of the tufaceous layers
of a pinkish colour and it is a most extraordinary fact that
Professor Ehrenberg finds it almost wholly composed of matter
which has been organised; he detects in it some
siliceous-shielded, fresh-water infusoria, and no less than
twenty-five different kinds of the siliceous tissue of plants,
chiefly of grasses. (21/5. "Monats. der Konig. Akad. d. Wiss. zu
Berlin" Vom April 1845.) From the absence of all carbonaceous
matter, Professor Ehrenberg believes that these organic bodies
have passed through the volcanic fire, and have been erupted in
the state in which we now see them. The appearance of the layers
induced me to believe that they had been deposited under water,
though from the extreme dryness of the climate I was forced to
imagine that torrents of rain had probably fallen during some
great eruption, and that thus a temporary lake had been formed
into which the ashes fell. But it may now be suspected that the
lake was not a temporary one. Anyhow we may feel sure that at
some former epoch the climate and productions of Ascension were
very different from what they now are. Where on the face of the
earth can we find a spot on which close investigation will not
discover signs of that endless cycle of change, to which this
earth has been, is, and will be subjected?

On leaving Ascension, we sailed for Bahia, on the coast of
Brazil, in order to complete the chronometrical measurement of
the world. We arrived there on August 1st, and stayed four days,
during which I took several long walks. I was glad to find my
enjoyment in tropical scenery had not decreased from the want of
novelty, even in the slightest degree. The elements of the
scenery are so simple that they are worth mentioning, as a proof
on what trifling circumstances exquisite natural beauty depends.

The country may be described as a level plain of about three
hundred feet in elevation, which in all parts has been worn into
flat-bottomed valleys. This structure is remarkable in a granitic
land, but is nearly universal in all those softer formations of
which plains are usually composed. The whole surface is covered
by various kinds of stately trees, interspersed with patches of
cultivated ground, out of which houses, convents, and chapels
arise. It must be remembered that within the tropics the wild
luxuriance of nature is not lost even in the vicinity of large
cities: for the natural vegetation of the hedges and hill-sides
overpowers in picturesque effect the artificial labour of man.
Hence, there are only a few spots where the bright red soil
affords a strong contrast with the universal clothing of green.
From the edges of the plain there are distant views either of the
ocean, or of the great Bay with its low-wooded shores, and on
which numerous boats and canoes show their white sails. Excepting
from these points, the scene is extremely limited; following the
level pathways, on each hand, only glimpses into the wooded
valleys below can be obtained. The houses I may add, and
especially the sacred edifices, are built in a peculiar and
rather fantastic style of architecture. They are all whitewashed;
so that when illumined by the brilliant sun of mid-day, and as
seen against the pale blue sky of the horizon, they stand out
more like shadows than real buildings.

Such are the elements of the scenery, but it is a hopeless
attempt to paint the general effect. Learned naturalists describe
these scenes of the tropics by naming a multitude of objects, and
mentioning some characteristic feature of each. To a learned
traveller this possibly may communicate some definite ideas: but
who else from seeing a plant in an herbarium can imagine its
appearance when growing in its native soil? Who from seeing
choice plants in a hothouse can magnify some into the dimensions
of forest trees, and crowd others into an entangled jungle? Who
when examining in the cabinet of the entomologist the gay exotic
butterflies, and singular cicadas, will associate with these
lifeless objects the ceaseless harsh music of the latter and the
lazy flight of the former,--the sure accompaniments of the still,
glowing noonday of the tropics? It is when the sun has attained
its greatest height that such scenes should be viewed: then the
dense splendid foliage of the mango hides the ground with its
darkest shade, whilst the upper branches are rendered from the
profusion of light of the most brilliant green. In the temperate
zones the case is different--the vegetation there is not so dark
or so rich, and hence the rays of the declining sun, tinged of a
red, purple, or bright yellow colour, add most to the beauties of
those climes.

When quietly walking along the shady pathways, and admiring each
successive view, I wished to find language to express my ideas.
Epithet after epithet was found too weak to convey to those who
have not visited the intertropical regions the sensation of
delight which the mind experiences. I have said that the plants
in a hothouse fail to communicate a just idea of the vegetation,
yet I must recur to it. The land is one great wild, untidy,
luxuriant hothouse, made by Nature for herself, but taken
possession of by man, who has studded it with gay houses and
formal gardens. How great would be the desire in every admirer of
nature to behold, if such were possible, the scenery of another
planet! yet to every person in Europe, it may be truly said, that
at the distance of only a few degrees from his native soil the
glories of another world are opened to him. In my last walk I
stopped again and again to gaze on these beauties, and
endeavoured to fix in my mind for ever an impression which at the
time I knew sooner or later must fail. The form of the
orange-tree, the cocoa-nut, the palm, the mango, the tree-fern,
the banana, will remain clear and separate; but the thousand
beauties which unite these into one perfect scene must fade away:
yet they will leave, like a tale heard in childhood, a picture
full of indistinct, but most beautiful figures.

AUGUST 6, 1836.

In the afternoon we stood out to sea, with the intention of
making a direct course to the Cape de Verd Islands. Unfavourable
winds, however, delayed us, and on the 12th we ran into
Pernambuco,--a large city on the coast of Brazil, in latitude 8
degrees south. We anchored outside the reef; but in a short time
a pilot came on board and took us into the inner harbour, where
we lay close to the town.

Pernambuco is built on some narrow and low sand-banks which are
separated from each other by shoal channels of salt water. The
three parts of the town are connected together by two long
bridges built on wooden piles. The town is in all parts
disgusting, the streets being narrow, ill-paved, and filthy; the
houses tall and gloomy. The season of heavy rains had hardly come
to an end, and hence the surrounding country, which is scarcely
raised above the level of the sea, was flooded with water; and I
failed in all my attempts to take long walks.

The flat swampy land on which Pernambuco stands is surrounded, at
the distance of a few miles, by a semicircle of low hills, or
rather by the edge of a country elevated perhaps two hundred feet
above the sea. The old city of Olinda stands on one extremity of
this range. One day I took a canoe, and proceeded up one of the
channels to visit it; I found the old town from its situation
both sweeter and cleaner than that of Pernambuco. I must here
commemorate what happened for the first time during our nearly
five years' wandering, namely, having met with a want of
politeness; I was refused in a sullen manner at two different
houses, and obtained with difficulty from a third, permission to
pass through their gardens to an uncultivated hill, for the
purpose of viewing the country. I feel glad that this happened in
the land of the Brazilians, for I bear them no good will--a land
also of slavery, and therefore of moral debasement. A Spaniard
would have felt ashamed at the very thought of refusing such a
request, or of behaving to a stranger with rudeness. The channel
by which we went to and returned from Olinda was bordered on each
side by mangroves, which sprang like a miniature forest out of
the greasy mud-banks. The bright green colour of these bushes
always reminded me of the rank grass in a churchyard: both are
nourished by putrid exhalations; the one speaks of death past,
and the other too often of death to come.

(PLATE 104.  CICADA HOMOPTERA.)

The most curious object which I saw in this neighbourhood was the
reef that forms the harbour. I doubt whether in the whole world
any other natural structure has so artificial an appearance.
(21/6. I have described this Bar in detail in the "London and
Edinburgh Philosophical Magazine" volume 19 1841 page 257.) It
runs for a length of several miles in an absolutely straight
line, parallel to and not far distant from the shore. It varies
in width from thirty to sixty yards, and its surface is level and
smooth; it is composed of obscurely-stratified hard sandstone. At
high water the waves break over it; at low water its summit is
left dry, and it might then be mistaken for a breakwater erected
by Cyclopean workmen. On this coast the currents of the sea tend
to throw up in front of the land long spits and bars of loose
sand, and on one of these part of the town of Pernambuco stands.
In former times a long spit of this nature seems to have become
consolidated by the percolation of calcareous matter, and
afterwards to have been gradually upheaved; the outer and loose
parts during this process having been worn away by the action of
the sea, and the solid nucleus left as we now see it. Although
night and day the waves of the open Atlantic, turbid with
sediment, are driven against the steep outside edges of this wall
of stone, yet the oldest pilots know of no tradition of any
change in its appearance. This durability is much the most
curious fact in its history: it is due to a tough layer, a few
inches thick, of calcareous matter, wholly formed by the
successive growth and death of the small shells of Serpulae,
together with some few barnacles and nulliporae. These
nulliporae, which are hard, very simply-organised sea-plants,
play an analogous and important part in protecting the upper
surfaces of coral-reefs, behind and within the breakers, where
the true corals, during the outward growth of the mass, become
killed by exposure to the sun and air. These insignificant
organic beings, especially the Serpulae, have done good service
to the people of Pernambuco; for without their protective aid the
bar of sandstone would inevitably have been long ago worn away
and without the bar, there would have been no harbour.

On the 19th of August we finally left the shores of Brazil. I
thank God, I shall never again visit a slave-country. To this
day, if I hear a distant scream, it recalls with painful
vividness my feelings, when passing a house near Pernambuco, I
heard the most pitiable moans, and could not but suspect that
some poor slave was being tortured, yet knew that I was as
powerless as a child even to remonstrate. I suspected that these
moans were from a tortured slave, for I was told that this was
the case in another instance. Near Rio de Janeiro I lived
opposite to an old lady, who kept screws to crush the fingers of
her female slaves. I have stayed in a house where a young
household mulatto, daily and hourly, was reviled, beaten, and
persecuted enough to break the spirit of the lowest animal. I
have seen a little boy, six or seven years old, struck thrice
with a horse-whip (before I could interfere) on his naked head,
for having handed me a glass of water not quite clean; I saw his
father tremble at a mere glance from his master's eye. These
latter cruelties were witnessed by me in a Spanish colony, in
which it has always been said that slaves are better treated than
by the Portuguese, English, or other European nations. I have
seen at Rio de Janeiro a powerful negro afraid to ward off a blow
directed, as he thought, at his face. I was present when a
kind-hearted man was on the point of separating forever the men,
women, and little children of a large number of families who had
long lived together. I will not even allude to the many
heart-sickening atrocities which I authentically heard of;--nor
would I have mentioned the above revolting details, had I not met
with several people, so blinded by the constitutional gaiety of
the negro as to speak of slavery as a tolerable evil. Such people
have generally visited at the houses of the upper classes, where
the domestic slaves are usually well treated, and they have not,
like myself, lived amongst the lower classes. Such inquirers will
ask slaves about their condition; they forget that the slave must
indeed be dull who does not calculate on the chance of his answer
reaching his master's ears.

It is argued that self-interest will prevent excessive cruelty;
as if self-interest protected our domestic animals, which are far
less likely than degraded slaves to stir up the rage of their
savage masters. It is an argument long since protested against
with noble feeling, and strikingly exemplified, by the
ever-illustrious Humboldt. It is often attempted to palliate
slavery by comparing the state of slaves with our poorer
countrymen: if the misery of our poor be caused not by the laws
of nature, but by our institutions, great is our sin; but how
this bears on slavery, I cannot see; as well might the use of the
thumb-screw be defended in one land, by showing that men in
another land suffered from some dreadful disease. Those who look
tenderly at the slave owner, and with a cold heart at the slave,
never seem to put themselves into the position of the
latter;--what a cheerless prospect, with not even a hope of
change! picture to yourself the chance, ever hanging over you, of
your wife and your little children--those objects which nature
urges even the slave to call his own--being torn from you and
sold like beasts to the first bidder! And these deeds are done
and palliated by men who profess to love their neighbours as
themselves, who believe in God, and pray that His Will be done on
earth! It makes one's blood boil, yet heart tremble, to think
that we Englishmen and our American descendants, with their
boastful cry of liberty, have been and are so guilty; but it is a
consolation to reflect, that we at least have made a greater
sacrifice than ever made by any nation, to expiate our sin.

On the last day of August we anchored for the second time at
Porto Praya in the Cape de Verd archipelago; thence we proceeded
to the Azores, where we stayed six days. On the 2nd of October we
made the shores of England; and at Falmouth I left the "Beagle,"
having lived on board the good little vessel nearly five years.

(PLATE 105.  HOMEWARD BOUND, THE "BEAGLE.")

Our Voyage having come to an end, I will take a short retrospect
of the advantages and disadvantages, the pains and pleasures, of
our circumnavigation of the world. If a person asked my advice,
before undertaking a long voyage, my answer would depend upon his
possessing a decided taste for some branch of knowledge, which
could by this means be advanced. No doubt it is a high
satisfaction to behold various countries and the many races of
mankind, but the pleasures gained at the time do not
counterbalance the evils. It is necessary to look forward to a
harvest, however distant that may be, when some fruit will be
reaped, some good effected.

Many of the losses which must be experienced are obvious; such as
that of the society of every old friend, and of the sight of
those places with which every dearest remembrance is so
intimately connected. These losses, however, are at the time
partly relieved by the exhaustless delight of anticipating the
long-wished-for day of return. If, as poets say, life is a dream,
I am sure in a voyage these are the visions which best serve to
pass away the long night. Other losses, although not at first
felt, tell heavily after a period: these are the want of room, of
seclusion, of rest; the jading feeling of constant hurry; the
privation of small luxuries, the loss of domestic society and
even of music and the other pleasures of imagination. When such
trifles are mentioned, it is evident that the real grievances,
excepting from accidents, of a sea-life are at an end. The short
space of sixty years has made an astonishing difference in the
facility of distant navigation. Even in the time of Cook, a man
who left his fireside for such expeditions underwent severe
privations. A yacht now, with every luxury of life, can
circumnavigate the globe. Besides the vast improvements in ships
and naval resources, the whole western shores of America are
thrown open, and Australia has become the capital of a rising
continent. How different are the circumstances to a man
shipwrecked at the present day in the Pacific, to what they were
in the time of Cook! Since his voyage a hemisphere has been added
to the civilised world.

If a person suffer much from sea-sickness, let him weigh it
heavily in the balance. I speak from experience: it is no
trifling evil, cured in a week. If, on the other hand, he take
pleasure in naval tactics, he will assuredly have full scope for
his taste. But it must be borne in mind how large a proportion of
the time, during a long voyage, is spent on the water, as
compared with the days in harbour. And what are the boasted
glories of the illimitable ocean? A tedious waste, a desert of
water, as the Arabian calls it. No doubt there are some
delightful scenes. A moonlight night, with the clear heavens and
the dark glittering sea, and the white sails filled by the soft
air of a gently-blowing trade-wind, a dead calm, with the heaving
surface polished like a mirror, and all still except the
occasional flapping of the canvas. It is well once to behold a
squall with its rising arch and coming fury, or the heavy gale of
wind and mountainous waves. I confess, however, my imagination
had painted something more grand, more terrific, in the
full-grown storm. It is an incomparably finer spectacle when
beheld on shore, where the waving trees, the wild flight of the
birds, the dark shadows and bright lights, the rushing of the
torrents, all proclaim the strife of the unloosed elements. At
sea the albatross and little petrel fly as if the storm were
their proper sphere, the water rises and sinks as if fulfilling
its usual task, the ship alone and its inhabitants seem the
objects of wrath. On a forlorn and weather-beaten coast the scene
is indeed different, but the feelings partake more of horror than
of wild delight.

Let us now look at the brighter side of the past time. The
pleasure derived from beholding the scenery and the general
aspect of the various countries we have visited has decidedly
been the most constant and highest source of enjoyment. It is
probable that the picturesque beauty of many parts of Europe
exceeds anything which we beheld. But there is a growing pleasure
in comparing the character of the scenery in different countries,
which to a certain degree is distinct from merely admiring its
beauty. It depends chiefly on an acquaintance with the individual
parts of each view; I am strongly induced to believe that as in
music, the person who understands every note will, if he also
possesses a proper taste, more thoroughly enjoy the whole, so he
who examines each part of a fine view may also thoroughly
comprehend the full and combined effect. Hence, a traveller
should be a botanist, for in all views plants form the chief
embellishment. Group masses of naked rock even in the wildest
forms, and they may for a time afford a sublime spectacle, but
they will soon grow monotonous. Paint them with bright and varied
colours, as in Northern Chile, they will become fantastic; clothe
them with vegetation, they must form a decent, if not a beautiful
picture.

When I say that the scenery of parts of Europe is probably
superior to anything which we beheld, I except, as a class by
itself, that of the intertropical zones. The two classes cannot
be compared together; but I have already often enlarged on the
grandeur of those regions. As the force of impressions generally
depends on preconceived ideas, I may add that mine were taken
from the vivid descriptions in the "Personal Narrative" of
Humboldt, which far exceed in merit anything else which I have
read. Yet with these high-wrought ideas, my feelings were far
from partaking of a tinge of disappointment on my first and final
landing on the shores of Brazil.

Among the scenes which are deeply impressed on my mind, none
exceed in sublimity the primeval forests undefaced by the hand of
man; whether those of Brazil, where the powers of Life are
predominant, or those of Tierra del Fuego, where Death and Decay
prevail. Both are temples filled with the varied productions of
the God of Nature:--no one can stand in these solitudes unmoved,
and not feel that there is more in man than the mere breath of
his body. In calling up images of the past, I find that the
plains of Patagonia frequently cross before my eyes; yet these
plains are pronounced by all wretched and useless. They can be
described only by negative characters; without habitations,
without water, without trees, without mountains, they support
merely a few dwarf plants. Why, then, and the case is not
peculiar to myself, have these arid wastes taken so firm a hold
on my memory? Why have not the still more level, the greener and
more fertile Pampas, which are serviceable to mankind, produced
an equal impression? I can scarcely analyse these feelings: but
it must be partly owing to the free scope given to the
imagination. The plains of Patagonia are boundless, for they are
scarcely passable, and hence unknown: they bear the stamp of
having lasted, as they are now, for ages, and there appears no
limit to their duration through future time. If, as the ancients
supposed, the flat earth was surrounded by an impassable breadth
of water, or by deserts heated to an intolerable excess, who
would not look at these last boundaries to man's knowledge with
deep but ill-defined sensations?

Lastly, of natural scenery, the views from lofty mountains,
though certainly in one sense not beautiful, are very memorable.
When looking down from the highest crest of the Cordillera, the
mind, undisturbed by minute details, was filled with the
stupendous dimensions of the surrounding masses.

Of individual objects, perhaps nothing is more certain to create
astonishment than the first sight in his native haunt of a
barbarian,--of man in his lowest and most savage state. One's
mind hurries back over past centuries, and then asks, Could our
progenitors have been men like these?--men, whose very signs and
expressions are less intelligible to us than those of the
domesticated animals; men, who do not possess the instinct of
those animals, nor yet appear to boast of human reason, or at
least of arts consequent on that reason. I do not believe it is
possible to describe or paint the difference between savage and
civilised man. It is the difference between a wild and tame
animal: and part of the interest in beholding a savage is the
same which would lead every one to desire to see the lion in his
desert, the tiger tearing his prey in the jungle, or the
rhinoceros wandering over the wild plains of Africa.

Among the other most remarkable spectacles which we have beheld,
may be ranked the Southern Cross, the cloud of Magellan, and the
other constellations of the southern hemisphere--the
waterspout--the glacier leading its blue stream of ice,
overhanging the sea in a bold precipice--a lagoon-island raised
by the reef-building corals--an active volcano--and the
overwhelming effects of a violent earthquake. These latter
phenomena, perhaps, possess for me a peculiar interest, from
their intimate connexion with the geological structure of the
world. The earthquake, however, must be to every one a most
impressive event: the earth, considered from our earliest
childhood as the type of solidity, has oscillated like a thin
crust beneath our feet; and in seeing the laboured works of man
in a moment overthrown, we feel the insignificance of his boasted
power.

It has been said that the love of the chase is an inherent
delight in man--a relic of an instinctive passion. If so, I am
sure the pleasure of living in the open air, with the sky for a
roof and the ground for a table, is part of the same feeling; it
is the savage returning to his wild and native habits. I always
look back to our boat cruises, and my land journeys, when through
unfrequented countries, with an extreme delight, which no scenes
of civilisation could have created. I do not doubt that every
traveller must remember the glowing sense of happiness which he
experienced when he first breathed in a foreign clime where the
civilised man had seldom or never trod.

There are several other sources of enjoyment in a long voyage
which are of a more reasonable nature. The map of the world
ceases to be a blank; it becomes a picture full of the most
varied and animated figures. Each part assumes its proper
dimensions: continents are not looked at in the light of islands,
or islands considered as mere specks, which are, in truth, larger
than many kingdoms of Europe. Africa, or North and South America,
are well-sounding names, and easily pronounced; but it is not
until having sailed for weeks along small portions of their
shores, that one is thoroughly convinced what vast spaces on our
immense world these names imply.

From seeing the present state, it is impossible not to look
forward with high expectations to the future progress of nearly
an entire hemisphere. The march of improvement, consequent on the
introduction of Christianity throughout the South Sea, probably
stands by itself in the records of history. It is the more
striking when we remember that only sixty years since, Cook,
whose excellent judgment none will dispute, could foresee no
prospect of a change. Yet these changes have now been effected by
the philanthropic spirit of the British nation.

In the same quarter of the globe Australia is rising, or indeed
may be said to have risen, into a grand centre of civilisation,
which, at some not very remote period, will rule as empress over
the southern hemisphere. It is impossible for an Englishman to
behold these distant colonies without a high pride and
satisfaction. To hoist the British flag seems to draw with it as
a certain consequence, wealth, prosperity, and civilisation.

In conclusion it appears to me that nothing can be more improving
to a young naturalist than a journey in distant countries. It
both sharpens and partly allays that want and craving, which, as
Sir J. Herschel remarks, a man experiences although every
corporeal sense be fully satisfied. The excitement from the
novelty of objects, and the chance of success, stimulate him to
increased activity. Moreover, as a number of isolated facts soon
become uninteresting, the habit of comparison leads to
generalisation. On the other hand, as the traveller stays but a
short time in each place, his descriptions must generally consist
of mere sketches, instead of detailed observations. Hence arises,
as I have found to my cost, a constant tendency to fill up the
wide gaps of knowledge by inaccurate and superficial hypotheses.

But I have too deeply enjoyed the voyage, not to recommend any
naturalist, although he must not expect to be so fortunate in his
companions as I have been, to take all chances, and to start, on
travels by land if possible, if otherwise, on a long voyage. He
may feel assured he will meet with no difficulties or dangers,
excepting in rare cases, nearly so bad as he beforehand
anticipates. In a moral point of view the effect ought to be to
teach him good-humoured patience, freedom from selfishness, the
habit of acting for himself, and of making the best of every
occurrence. In short, he ought to partake of the characteristic
qualities of most sailors. Travelling ought also to teach him
distrust; but at the same time he will discover how many truly
kind-hearted people there are, with whom he never before had, or
ever again will have any further communication, who yet are ready
to offer him the most disinterested assistance.

(PLATE 106.  ASCENSION. TERNS AND NODDIES.)

(PLATE 107.  MAP OF SOUTH AMERICA.)

(PLATE 108.  MAP OF THE WORLD, SHOWING THE TRACK OF H.M.S.
"BEAGLE.")


INDEX.

Abbott, Mr., on spiders.

Aborigines banished from Van Diemen's Land.
of Australia.

Abrolhos Islands.

Absence of trees in Pampas.

Aconcagua, volcano of.

Actinia, stinging species.

Africa, Southern part desert, yet supports large animals.

Ageronia feronia.

Agouti, habits of.

Ague common in Peru.

Albemarle Island.

Allan, Dr., on Diodon.
on Holuthuriae.

Alluvium, saliferous, in Peru.
stratified, in Andes.

Amblyrhynchus.

Anas, species of.

Animalculae. See Infusoria.

Antarctic islands.

Antipodes.

Ants at Keeling Island.
in Brazil.

Antuco volcano.

Apires, or miners.

Aplysia.

Apple-trees.

Aptenodytes demersa.

Araucanian Indians.

Areas of alternate movements in the Pacific and Indian oceans.

Armadilloes, habits of.
fossil animals allied to.

Arqueros mines.

Arrow-heads, ancient.

Ascension.

Aspalax, blindness of.

Athene cunicularia.

Atolls.

Attagis.

Atwater, Mr., on the prairies.

Audubon, M., on smelling-power of carrion-hawks.

Australia.

Australian barrier.
group of weapons.

Ava (Macropiper methysticum).

Azara on spiders.
on rain in La Plata.
on habits of carrion-hawks.
on range of carrion-hawks.
on a thunder-storm.
on ostrich-eggs.
on bows and arrows.
on new plants springing up.
on great droughts.
on hydrophobia.

Bachman, Mr., on carrion-hawks.

Bahia Blanca.
fossil tooth of horse from.

Bahia, Brazil.
scenery of.

Bajada.

Balbi on coral reefs.

Bald Head, Australia.

Ballenar, Chile.

Banda Oriental.

Banks's Hill.

Barking-bird.

Barrier-reef, Bolabola.
reefs, sections of.

Basaltic platform of Santa Cruz.

Bathurst, Australia.

Batrachian reptiles.

Bats, vampire.

Bay of Islands, New Zealand.

Beads, hill of.

Beagle Channel, Tierra del Fuego.

Beech-trees.

Beetles in brackish water.
on a fungus.
alive in sea.
at St. Julian.
dung-feeders.

Behring's Straits, fossils of.

Bell of Quillota.

Benchuca.

Berkeley Sound.

Berkeley, Reverend J., on confervae.
on Cyttaria.

Berquelo river.

Bibron, M.

Bien te veo.

Birds of the Galapagos Archipelago.
tameness of.

Birgos latro.

Bizcacha, habits of.

Blackheath, Australia.

Blackwall, Mr., on spiders.

Blindness of tucutuco.

Blue Mountains.

Body, frozen.

Bolabola, barrier-reef.

Bolas, manner of using.

Bombs, volcanic.

Bones of the guanaco collected in certain spots.
fire made of.
recent in Pampas.
fossil.

Bory St. Vincent on frogs.

Boulders.

Bramador, El.

Brazil, great area of granite.

Brazilian whips, etc.

Breaches in coral reefs.

Breakwater of seaweed.

Brewster, Sir D., on a calcareous deposit.

Bridge of hide.
of Incas.

Buckland, Dr., on fossils.

Buenos Ayres.
trading at.
evening camp.
bullock-waggons.

Buffon on American Animals.

Bug of Pampas.

Buildings, Indian.

Bulimus on desert places.

Burchell, Mr., on food of quadrupeds.
on ostrich-eggs.
on perforated stones.

Butterflies, flocks of.

Butterfly producing clicking sound.

Button, Jemmy.

Byron's account of fox of Falklands.
on an Indian killing his child.

Cabbage palm.

Cacti.

Cactornis.

Cactus, Cereus Peruviana.

Calasoma on wing out at sea.

Calcareous casts of branches and roots of trees at King George's
Sound.
incrustations on rocks of Ascension.

Callao.

Calodera.

Calomys bizcacha.

Camarhynchus.

Camelidae, fossil animal allied to.

Cancer salinus.

Canis antarcticus.
fulvipes.

Cape Horn.
False Horn.
of Good Hope.

Capybara, or carpincho.
fossil allied to.

Caracara, or Carrancha.

Cardoon, beds of.

Carizal.

Carmichael, Captain.

Carrion-hawks.

Casarita.

Cassava.

Castro, Chiloe.
old church at.

Casuchas.

Catamaran.

Cathartes.

Cats run wild.
good to eat.
scratch trees.
cruelty to mice.

Cattle, effects of their grazing on the vegetation.
killed by great droughts.
know each other.
curious breed of.
waste of.
wild at the Falkland Islands.

Caucahue.

Cauquenes, hot springs of.

Causes of extinction of species among mammalia.
of discoloured sea.

Cavia Patagonica.

Cawa-Cawa, New Zealand.

Caylen.

Cervus campestris.

Ceryle Americana.

Chacao, Chiloe.

Chagos atolls.

Chalk-like mud.

Chamisso on drifted seeds and trees.
on coral reefs.

Changes in vegetation of Pampas.
in vegetation of St. Helena.

Charles Island.

Chatham Island.

Cheese, salt required for.

Cheucau.

Chile.
features of country.

Chilenos.

Chilian miner.
spurs, stirrup, etc.
vegetation.

Chiloe.
old church at castro.
forests of, and climate.
inhabitants of.
roads of.
Gunnera scabra.

Chionis alba.

Cholechel, conflict at.

Chonos Archipelago.
climate of.
zoology of.
ornithology of.

Chupat, Rio.

Chuzo.

Cicada homoptera.

Cladonia.

Clearness of atmosphere within Andes, in Chile.

Climate of Tierra del Fuego and Falkland Islands.
Antarctic Islands.
change of, in Chile.
Galapagos.

Clouds of vapour after rain.
on Corcovado.
hanging low.
at sea.

Coloeoptera in Tropics.
out at sea.
of St. Julian.

Colias edusa, flocks of.

Colnett, Captain, on spawn in sea.
on a marine lizard.
on transport of seeds.

Colonia del Sacramiento.

Colorado, Rio.

Compound animals.

Concepcion, Chile.

Conchalee.

Condor, habits of.
(Sarcorhamphus gryphus.)

Confervae, pelagic.

Conglomerate on the Ventana.
in Cordillera.

Conurus.

Convicts of Mauritius.
condition, in New South Wales.

Cook, Captain, on kelp.

Copiap, river and valley of.
town of.

Coquimbo.

Coral formations.
stinging species of.
reefs, sections of.
dead.

Corallines.

Corals.

Corcovado, clouds on.
volcano.

Cordillera, appearance of.
different productions on east and west side.
passage of.
structure of valleys.
rivers of.
geology of.
valley of Copiap.
mountains.

Cormorant catching fish.

Corral, where animals are slaughtered at Buenos Ayres.

Corrientes, Cape.

Corrobery, or native Australian dance.

Corunda.

Coseguina, eruption of.

Countries, unhealthy.

Couthouy, Mr., on coral-reefs.

Crabberies.

Crabs, hermit species of.
at St. Paul's.
at Keeling Island.

Craters, number of, at the Galapagos Archipelago.
of Elevation.

Crisia.

Cruelty to animals.

Crustacea, pelagic.

Ctenomys Brasiliensis.
fossil species of.

Cucao, Chiloe.

Cuckoo-like habits of Molothrus.

Cudico, mission at.

Cuentas, Sierra de.

Cufre.

Cumbre of Cordillera.

Cuming, Mr., on shells.

Cuttlefish, habits of.

Cuvier on Diodon.

Cynara cardunculus.

Cyttaria Darwinii.

Dacelo Iagoensis.

Dasypus, three species of.

Deer.

Degradation of tertiary formations.

Deinornis.

Deserts.

Desmodus.

Despoblado, valley of.

Dieffenbach, Dr. E.
on Auckland Island.

Diodon, habits of.

Discoloured sea.

Diseases from miasma.

Distribution of mammalia in America.
of animals on opposite sides of Cordillera.
of frogs.
of Fauna of Galapagos.

Dobrizhoffer on ostriches.
on a hail-storm.

Docks, imported.

Dogs, shepherd.

Dolichonyx oryzivorus.

D'Orbigny, Travels in South America.

Doris, eggs of.

Dormidor, or horse-tamer.

Doubleday, Mr., on a noise made by a butterfly.

Drigg, lightning tubes at.

Droughts, great, in Pampas.

Dryness of St. Jago.
of winds in Tierra del Fuego.
of air in Cordillera.

Dubois.

Dung-feeding beetles.

Dust, falling from atmosphere.

Earthenware, fossil.

Earthquake, accompanied by an elevation of the coast.
accompanied by rain.
at Callao.
at Concepcion.
at Coquimbo.
at Keeling and Vanikoro, and Society Islands.
at Valdivia.
causes of.
effect of, on springs.
on bottom of sea.
effects of, on rocks.
effects of, on sea.
effects of, on a river-bed.
line of vibration of.
on south-west coast.
tossing fragments from the ground.
twisting movement of.

Eggs of Doris.

Ehrenberg, Professor, on Atlantic dust.
on infusoria in Pampas.
 in the open sea.
 in Patagonia.
 in Fuegian paint.
 in coral mud.
 in tuff at Ascension.
on phosphorescence of the sea.
on noises from a hill.

Eimeo, island of.
barrier-reef.

Elater, springing powers of.

Electricity of atmosphere within Andes.

Elephant, weight of.

Elevated shells.

Elevation of coasts of Chile.
Bahia Blanca.
Pampas.
Patagonia.
mountain-chains.
Cordillera.
Peru.
within human period.
fringing-reefs.

Entomology of the Galapagos Archipelago.
Brazil.
Patagonia.
Tierra del Fuego.
Keeling Island.
St. Helena.

Entre Rios, geology of.

Epeira, habits of.

Erratic blocks, how transported.
absent in intertropical countries.
on plains of Santa Cruz.
of Tierra del Fuego.

Estancia, value of.

Extermination of species and races.

Extinction of shells at St. Helena.
of species, causes of.
of man in New South Wales.

Eyes of tucutuco and mole.

Eyre Sound.

Falconer, Dr., on the Sivatherium.
on the Indians.
on rivers in Pampas.
on natural enclosures.

Falkland Islands.
absence of trees at.
carrion-hawks of.
wild cattle and horses of.
fox of.
climate of.
peat of.
tame birds at.

Fat, quantity eaten.

Fatahua fall.

Fear an acquired instinct.

Februa Hoffmanseggi, butterfly.

Fennel run wild.

Ferguson, Dr., on miasma.

Fernando Noronha.

Ferns, tree.

Fields of dead coral.

Fire, art of making.

Fireflies.

Fish emitting harsh sound.
of Galapagos.
eating coral.

Flamingoes.

Fleas.

Floods after droughts.
clear after snow.

Flora of the Galapagos.
of Keeling Island.
of St. Helena.

Flustraceae.

Forests, absence of, in La Plata.
of Tierra del Fuego.
of Chiloe.
of Valdivia.
of New Zealand.
of Australia.

Fossil Mammalia.
earthenware.

Fox of the Falkland Islands.
of Chiloe.

Freyrina.

Friendly Archipelago.

Fringing reefs.

Frogs, noises of.
bladders of.
and toads, not found on oceanic islands.

Frozen soil.

Fruit-trees, southern limit of.

Fucus giganteus.

Fuegians.
wigwams.
basket and bone weapons.

Fulgurites.

Fungus, edible.

Furnarius.

Galapagos Archipelago.
natural history of.
  marked relationship with America.
zoology of.
finches from.

Gale of wind.

Gallegos river, fossil bones at.

Gallinazo.

Gauchos.
character of.
live on meat.
surcingle of.

Gavia mountain.

Gay, M., on floating islands.
on shells in brackish water.

Geese at the Falkland Islands.

Geographical distribution of American animals.
of frogs.
of fauna of Galapagos.

Geology of Cordillera.
of St. Jago.
of St. Paul.
of Brazil.
of Bahia Blanca.
of Pampas.
of Patagonia.

Georgia, climate of.

Geospiza.

Gill, Mr., on an upheaved river-bed.

Gillies, Dr., on the Cordillera.

Glaciers in Tierra del Fuego.
in latitude 46 degrees 40'.
in Cordillera.

Glow-worms.

Goats destructive to vegetation at St. Helena.
bones of.

Goeree Roads.

Goitre.

Gold-washing.

Good Success Bay.

Gossamer spider.

Gould, Mr., on the Calodera.
on birds of Galapagos.

Granite mountains, Tres Montes.
of Cordillera.

Graspus.

Gravel, how far transported.
of Patagonia.

Graves of Indians.

Greenstone, fragments of.

Gregory, Cape.

Gryllus migratorius.

Guanaco, habits of.
fossil allied genus.

Guantajaya, mines of.

Guardia del Monte.

Guasco.

Guasos of Chile.

Guava imported into Tahiti.

Guinea-fowl.

Guitron.

Gunnera scabra.

Gypsum, great beds of.
in salt-lake.
in Patagonian tertiary beds.
at Iquique with salt.
at Lima with shells.

Hachette, M., on lightning-tubes.

Hacienda, condor, and cactus.

Hail-storm.

Hall, Captain Basil, on terraces of Coquimbo.

Hare, Varying.

Head, Captain, on thistle-beds.

Height of snow-line on Cordillera.

Henslow, Professor, on potatoes.
on plants of Keeling Island.

Hermit crabs.

Hide bridge.

Hill emitting a noise.

Himantopus.

Hippah, New Zealand.

Hobart Town and Mount Wellington.

Hogoleu barrier-reef.

Holes made by a bird.

Holman on drifted seeds.

Holothuriae feeding on coral.

Homeward bound.

Hooker, Sir J., on the Cardoon.
Dr. J.D., on the kelp.
on Galapageian plants.

Horn, Cape.

Horner, Mr., on a calcareous deposit.

Horse, swimming powers of.

Horse, wild at the Falkland Islands.
fossil of extinct species of.

Horse-fly.

Horsemanship of the Gauchos.

Horses difficult to drive.
drop excrement on paths.
killed by great droughts.
multiplication of.
broken in.

Hot springs of Cauquenes.

Huacas.

Humboldt on burnished rocks.
on the atmosphere in tropics.
on frozen soil.
on hybernation.
on potatoes.
on earthquakes and rain.
on miasma.

Humming-birds of Rio De Janeiro.
of Chiloe.

Hurtado.

Hybernation of animals.

Hydrochaerus capybara.

Hydrophobia.

Hyla.

Hymenophallus.

Ibis melanops.

Ice, prismatic structure of.

Icebergs.

Incas' bridge.

Incrustations on coast rocks.

Indian fossil remains.

Indians, attacks of.
antiquarian relics of.
Araucanian.
of the Pampas.
decrease in numbers of.
grave of.
Patagonian.
perforated stones used by.
Valdivian.
powers of tracking.
ruins of houses of.

Infection.

Infusoria in dust in the Atlantic.
in the sea.
in the Pampas.
in Patagonia.
in white paint.
in coral mud.
at Ascension.

Insects first colonists of St. Paul's rocks.
blown out to sea.
of Patagonia.
of Tierra del Fuego.
of Galapagos.
of Keeling Island.
of St. Helena.

Instincts of birds.

Iodine with salt at Iquique.

Iquique.

Iron, oxide of, on rocks.

Irregular troops.

Islands, oceanic, volcanic.
Antarctic.
floating.
Low.

Jackson, Colonel, on frozen snow.

Jaguar, habits of.

Jajuel, mines of.

James Island.

Jemmy Button.

Juan Fernandez, volcano  of.
flora of.

Kangaroo-hunting.

Kater's Peak.

Kauri pine.

Keeling Island.
inside an atoll.
flora of.
birds of.
entomology of.
subsidence of.
Birgos latro.

Kelp, or seaweed.

Kendall, Lieutenant, on a frozen body.

Kingfishers.

King George's Sound.

Kororadika.

Labourers, condition of, in Chile.

Lagoon-islands.

Lagostomus.

Lake, brackish, near Rio.
with floating islands.
formed during earthquake.

Lamarck on acquired blindness.

Lampyris.

Lancaster, Captain, on a sea-tree.

Land-shells.

Las Minas.

Lazo.

Leaves.
fossil.

Leeks in New Zealand, imported.

Lemuy Island.

Lepus Magellanicus.

Lesson, M., on the scissor-beak.
on rabbit of the Falklands.

Lichen on loose sand.

Lichtenstein on ostriches.

Lightning storms.
tubes.

Lima.
and San Lorenzo.
elevation of a river near.

Lime, changed by lava into crystalline rock.

Limnaea in brackish water.

Lion-ant.

Lizard.
marine species of.

Lizards, transport of.

Llama or guanaco, habits of.

Locusts.

Longevity of species in Mollusca.

Lorenzo, San, island of.

Low Archipelago.

Luciano, story of.

Lumb, Mr.

Lund, M., on antiquity of man.

Lund and Clausen on fossils of Brazil.

Luxan.

Luxuriant vegetation not necessary to support large animals.

Lycosa.

Lyell, Mr., on terraces of Coquimbo.
on longevity of Mollusca.
on change in vegetation.
on fossil horses' teeth.
on flocks of butterflies.
on extinct mammals and ice-period.
on stones twisted by  earthquakes.
on frozen snow.
on distribution of animals.
on subsidence in the Pacific.

MacCulloch on infection.

Macquarie river.

Macrauchenia.

Macrocystis.

Madrina, or godmother of a troop of mules.

Magdalen channel.

Magellan, flora of.
H.M.S. "Beagle" in Straits of.
Straits of.
Port Famine.
kelp of.

Malays.

Malcolmson, Dr., on hail.

Maldiva atolls.

Maldonado.

Mammalia, fossil.

Man, antiquity of.
body frozen.
fossil remains of.
fear of, an acquired instinct.
extinction of races.

Mandetiba.

Mandioca or cassava.

Mare's flesh eaten by troops.

Mares killed for their hides.

Mastodon.

Mat pots and Bambillio.

Matter, granular, movements in.

Mauritius.

Maypu river.

Megalonyx.

Megatherium.

Mendoza.
climate of.

Mercedes on the Rio Negro.

Mexico, elevation of.

Miasmata.

Mice inhabit sterile places.
number of, in America.
how transported.
different on opposite sides of Andes.
of the Galapagos.
of Ascension.

Millepora.

Mills for grinding ores.

Mimosae.

Mimus.

Miners, condition of.

Mines.
how discovered.

Miranda, Commandant.

Missionaries at New Zealand.

Mitchell, Sir T., on valleys of Australia.

Mocking-bird.

Molina omits description of certain birds.

Molothrus, habits of.

Monkeys with prehensile tails.

Monte Video.

Moresby, Captain, on a great crab.
on coral-reefs.

Mount Sarmiento.
Tarn.
Victoria.

Mountains, elevation of.

Movements in granular matter.

Mud, chalk-like.
disturbed by earthquake.

Mules.

Muniz, Signor, on niata cattle.

Murray, Mr., on spiders.

Mylodon.

Myopotamus Coypus.

Narborough Island.

Negress with goitre.

Negro, Rio.
lieutenant.

Nepean river.

New Caledonia, reef of.

New Zealand.

Niata cattle.

Noises from a hill.

Noses, ceremony of pressing.

Nothura.

Notopod, crustacean.

Nulliporae, incrustations like.
protecting reefs.

Octopus, habits of.

Oily coating on sea.

Olfersia.

Opetiorhynchus.

Opuntia.
Darwinii.
Galapageia.

Orange-trees self-sown.

Ores, gold.

Ornithology of Galapagos.

Ornithorhynchus.

Osorno, volcano of.

Ostrich, habits of.

Ostrich's eggs.

Otaheite.

Otter.

Ova in sea.

Oven-bird.

Owen, Captain, on a drought in Africa.
Professor, on the Capybara.
fossil quadrupeds.
nostrils of the Gallinazo.

Owl of Pampas.
of Galapagos Islands.

Oxyurus.

Oysters, gigantic.

Paint, white.

Pallas on Siberia.

Palm-trees in La Plata.
south limit of.
in Chile.

Palms absent at Galapagos.

Pampas, halt at a pulperia on the.
number of embedded remains in.
southern limit of.
changes in.
giant thistle of.
not quite level.
geology of.
view of, from the Andes.

Pan de Azucar.

Papilio feronia.

Parana, Rio.
River.
islands in.

Parish, sir W., on the great drought.

Park, Mungo, on eating salt.

Parrots.

Partridges.

Pas, fortresss of New Zealand.

Passes in Cordillera.

Pasture altered from grazing of cattle.

Patagones.

Patagonia, geology of.
birds of.
zoology of.
raised beaches.

Patagonian bolas, etc.

Patagonians, Cape Gregory.

Paypote ravine.

Peach-trees self-sown.

Peat, formation of.

Pebbles perforated.
transported in roots of trees.

Pelagic animals in southern ocean.

Penas, glacier in Gulf of.

Penguin, habits of.

Pepsis, habits of.

Pernambuco, reef of.

Pernety on hill of ruins.
on tame birds.

Peru.
dry valleys of.

Peruvian pottery.

Petrels, habits of.

Peuquenes, pass of.

Phonolite at Fernando Noronha.

Phosphorescence of the sea.
of land insects and sea animals.
of a coralline.

Phryniscus.

Pine of New Zealand.

Plains at foot of Andes in Chile.
almost horizontal near St. F.

Planariae, terrestrial species of.

Plants of the Galapagos.
of Keeling island.
of St. Helena.

Plants, fossil, in Australia.

Plata, River.
thunderstorms of.

Plover, long-legged.

Polished rocks, Brazil.

Polyborus chimango.
Braziliensis.
Novae Zelandiae.

Ponsonby Sound.

Porpoises.

Port Desire.
river of.
St. Julian.
Famine.
Jackson.

Portillo Pass.

Porto Praya.

Potato, wild.

Potrero Seco.

Prairies, vegetation of.

Prvost, M., on cuckoos.

Priestley, Dr., on lightning-tubes.

Prisoner, bringing in a.

Procellaria gigantea, habits of.

Proctotretus.

Proteus, blindness of.

Protococcus nivalis.

Pteroptochos, two species of.
species of.

Puenta del Inca.

Puffinuria Berardii.

Puffinus cinereus.

Puma, habits of.
flesh of.

Puna, or short respiration.

Punta Alta, Bahia Blanca.
Gorda.
Huantam.

Pyrophorus luminosus.

Quadrupeds, fossil.
large, do not require luxuriant vegetation.
weight of.

Quartz of the Ventana.
of Tapalguen.
of Falkland Island.

Quedius.

Quellaypo volcano.

Quilimari.

Quillota, valley of.

Quinchao Island.

Quintero.

Quiriquina Island.

Quoy and Gaimard on stinging corals.
on coral-reefs.

Rabbit, wild, at the Falkland Islands.

Rain at Coquimbo.
at Rio.
effects on vegetation.
and earthquakes.
in Chile, formerly more abundant.
in Peru.

Rana Mascariensis.

Rat, only aboriginal animal of New Zealand.

Rats at Galapagos.
at Keeling Island.
at Ascension.

Rattlesnake, species with allied habit.

Red snow.

Reduvius.

Reef at Pernambuco of sandstone.

Reefs of coral.
barrier.
fringing.

Reeks, Mr., analysis of salt.
bones.
salt and shells.

Remains, human, elevated.

Remedies of the Gauchos.

Rengger on the horse.

Reptiles absent in Tierra del Fuego.
at Galapagos.

Respiration difficult in Andes.

Retrospect.

Revolutions at Buenos Ayres.

Rhea Darwinii (Avestruz Petise).

Rhinoceroses live in desert countries.
frozen.

Rhynchops nigra.

Richardson, Dr., on mice of North America.
on frozen soil.
on eating fat.
on geographical distribution.
on polished rocks.

Rimsky atoll.

Rio de Janeiro.
Botofogo Bay.
Plata.
Negro.
Colorado.
Sauce.
Salado.
S. Cruz.

River-bed, arched.

River-courses dry in America.

Rivers, power of, in wearing channels.

Rocks burnished with ferruginous matter.

Rodents, number of, in America.
fossil species of.

Rolor, General.

Rosas, General.

Rozario.

Ruins of Callao.
of Indian buildings in Cordillera.

Salado, Rio.

Saladillo river.

Salinas at the Galapagos Archipelago.
in Patagonia.

Saline efflorescences.

Salt with vegetable food.
superficial crust of.
with elevated shells.

Salt-lakes.

San Carlos.
Nicolas.
Felipe.
Pedro.
Pedro, forests of.
Lorenzo Island.

Sand-dunes.

Sand, hot from sun's rays, at Galapagos Archipelago.
noise from friction of.

Sandstone of New South Wales.
reef of.

Sandwich Archipelago, no frogs at.
Land.

Santa Cruz, river of.

Santiago, Chile.

Sarmiento, Mount.

Sauce, Rio.

Saurophagus sulphureus.

Scarus eating corals.

Scelidotherium.

Scenery of Andes.

Scissor-beak, habits of.

Scissor-tail.

Scoresby, Mr., on effects of snow on rocks.

Scorpions, cannibals.

Scrope, Mr., on earthquakes.

Scytalopus.

Sea, open, inhabitants of.
phosphorescence of.
explosions in.

Sea-pen, habits of.

Seals, number of.

Seaweed, growth of.

Seeds transported by sea.

Serpulae.

Sertularia, protecting reef.

Shark killed by Diodon.

Shaw, Dr., on lion's flesh.

Sheep, infected.

Shelley, lines on Mont Blanc.

Shells, land, in great numbers.
elevated.
tropical forms of, far south.
fossil, of Cordillera.
decomposition of, with salt.
of Galapagos.
at St. Helena.

Shepherd's dogs.

Shingle-bed of Patagonia.

Shongi, New Zealand chief.

Siberia compared with Patagonia.
zoology of, related to North America.

Siberian animals, how preserved in ice.
food necessary during their existence.

Sierra de la Ventana.
Tapalguen.

Silicified trees.

Silurian formations at Falkland Islands.

Silurus, habits of.

Sivatherium.

Skunks.

Slavery.

Smelling power of carrion-hawks.

Smith, Dr. Andrew, on the support of large quadrupeds.
on perforated pebbles.

Snake, venomous.

Snow, effects of, on rocks.
prismatic structure of.
red.

Snow-line on Cordillera.

Socgo.

Society, state of, in La Plata.
state of, in Australia.
Archipelago.
  volcanic phenomena at.

Soda, nitrate of.
sulphate of.

Soil, frozen.

South American bit.

Spawn on surface of sea.

Species, distribution of.
extinction of.

Spiders, habits of.
gossamer,
killed by and killing wasps.
on Keeling Island.
on St. Paul's.

Spurs of Guaso.

Springs, hot.

Stevenson, Mr., on growth of seaweed.

St. Helena.
Jago, C. Verds.
  unhealthiness of.
Paul's rocks.
F.
Maria, elevated.
introduction of spirits into.
Louis, Mauritius.

Stinging animals.

Stones perforated.
transported in roots.

Storm.
in Cordillera.

Streams of stones at Falkland Islands.

Strongylus.

Struthio rhea.
Darwinii.

Strzelecki,Count.

Suadiva atoll.

Subsidence of coral-reefs.
of Patagonia.
of Cordillera.
of Coasts of Chile.
cause of distinctness in Tertiary epochs.
of coast of Peru.
of Keeling Island.
of Vanikoro.
of coral-reefs great in amount.

Sulphate of lime.
soda with common salt.
soda incrusting the ground.

Swainson, Mr., on cuckoos.

Sydney.

Tabanus.

Tahiti (Otaheite).
three zones of fertility.
Fatahua fall.
Christianity in.

Tahitian.

Talcahuano.

Tambillos, Ruinas de.

Tameness of birds.

Tandeel, pumas at.

Tapacolo and Turco.

Tapalguen, Sierra, flat hills of quartz.

Tarn, Mount.

Tasmania.

Tattooing.

Temperance of the Tahitians.

Temperature of Tierra del Fuego and Falkland Islands.
of Galapagos.

Tercero, Rio, fossils in banks of.

Terraces in valleys of Cordillera.
of Patagonia.
of Coquimbo.

Tertiary formations of the Pampas.
of Patagonia.
in Chile, epochs of.

Teru-tero.
habits of.

Testudo, two species of.
Abingdonii.
nigra, habits of.

Theory of lagoon-islands.

Theristicus melanops.

Thistle beds.

Thunder-storms.

Ti, liliaceous plant.

Tierra del Fuego.
climate and vegetation of.
zoology of.
entomology of.

Tinamus rufescens.

Tinochorus rumicivorus.

Toad, habits of.
not found in oceanic islands.

Torrents in Cordillera.

Tortoise, habits of.

Toxodon.

Transparency of air in Andes.
in St. Jago.

Transport of boulders.
of fragments of rock on banks of the St. Cruz river.
of seeds.
of stones in roots of trees.

Travertin with leaves of trees, Van Diemen's Land.

Tree-ferns.
southern limits of.

Trees, absence of, in Pampas.
time required to rot.
silicified, vertical.
size of.
floating, transport stones.

Tres Montes.

Trichodesmium.

Trigonocephalus.

Tristan d'Acunha.

Trochilus forficatus.

Tropical scenery.

Tschudi, M., on subsidence.

Tubes, siliceous, formed by lightning.

Tucutuco, habits of.
fossil species of.

Tuff, craters of.
infusoria in.

Tupungato, volcano of.

Turco, El.

Turkey buzzard.

Turtle, manner of catching.

Type of organisation in Galapagos Islands, American.

Types of organisation in different countries, constant.

Tyrannus savana.

Ulloa on hydrophobia.
on Indian buildings.

Unane, Dr., on hydrophobia.

Uruguay, Rio.
not crossed by the Bizcacha.

Uspallata range and pass.

Vacas, Rio.

Valdivia.
forests of.

Valley of St. Cruz, how excavated.
dry, at Copiap.

Valleys, excavation of, in Chile.
of New South Wales.
in Cordillera.
of Tahiti.

Valparaiso.

Vampire bat.

Van Diemen's Land.

Vanellus cayanus.

Vanessa, flocks of.

Vanikoro.

Vapour from forests.

Vegetation of St. Helena, changes of.
luxuriant, not necessary to support large animals.
on opposite sides of Cordillera.

Ventana, Sierra.

Verbena melindres.

Vilipilli.

Villa Vicencio.

Villarica volcano.

Virgin forest.

Virgularia Patagonica.

Volcanic bombs.
cellular formation of.
islands.
phenomena.

Volcanoes near Chiloe.
their presence determined by elevation or subsidence.

Vultur aura.

Waders, first colonists of distant islands.

Waimate, New Zealand.

Waiomio.

Walckenaer on spiders.

Walleechu tree.

Wasps preying on spiders and killed by.

Water-hog (Hydrochaerus capybara).

Water-serpents.

Water sold at Iquique.

Water, fresh, floating on salt.

Waterhouse, Mr., on Rodents.
on the niata ox.
on the insects of Tierra del Fuego.
 of Galapagos.
on the terrestrial mammals of Galapagos.

Waves caused by fall of ice.
from earthquakes.

Weather, connection with earthquakes.

Weatherboard, New South Wales.

Weeds in New Zealand, imported.

Weight of large quadrupeds.

Wellington, Mount.

Wells, ebbing and flowing.
at Iquique.

West Indies, banks of sediment.
zoology of.
coral-reefs of.

Whales, oil from.
leaping out of water.

White, Mr., on spiders.

Whitsunday Island.

Wigwam cove.

Wigwams of Fuegians.

Williams, Reverend Mr.
on infectious disorders.

Winds, dry, in Tierra del Fuego.
at the Cape Verds.
on Cordillera.
cold, on Cordillera.

Winter's Bark.

Wolf at the Falklands.

Wollaston Island.

Wood, Captain, on the Agouti.

Woollya.

Yaquil gold mines.

Yeso, Valle del.

York Minster.

Zonotrichia.

Zoological provinces of North and South America.

Zoology of Galapagos.
of Tierra del Fuego.
of Chonos Islands.
of Keeling Island.
of St. Helena.

Zoophytes.
at Falkland Islands.

Zorillo, or skunk.





End of The Project Gutenberg Etext The Voyage of the Beagle, by Charles Darwin
End of Project Gutenberg Etext A Naturalist's Voyage Round the World by Darwin

