The night passed without disturbance, though I had made all ready in case of being summoned to embark; but as the arrival of the steamer was confidently predicted, I completed my arrangements, and removed my luggage to the office of the port captain on the morning of the 14th. The weather was nearly quite dry all day, with a prevailing sharp wind from the south-west, varied by two or three abrupt changes. I did not venture to go into the country, and contented myself with trotting up and down, mainly with the object of keeping myself warm. Evening closed; but no steamer appeared, and I accepted Dr. Fenton’s offer of a sofa in his sitting-room for the night, whereon to await the expected summons. Towards four o’clock I sallied forth, without disturbing the household. Profound silence prevailed throughout the settlement; the stars of the southern hemisphere beamed with extraordinary brilliancy, and the muddy streets were iron-bound with frost. After another doze on the sofa, I again went out at dawn, and enjoyed a beautiful sunrise.
WRECK OF THE “DOTEREL.”
The morning of June 15 was unusually favourable for distant views. Beyond the low, bare flats of Tierra del Fuego there showed to the south-east a range of hills, or mountains, whose heights I estimated at from 3500 to 4000 feet, but it is needless to say that, with unfamiliar atmospheric conditions, where the judgment as to distance is so uncertain, such an estimate is quite unreliable. Nearly due south lies Dawson Island, and several high summits were visible in that direction, but I do not believe that either Mount Darwin or Mount Sarmiento are visible from this part of the coast.
During the day I went a short way along the shore to the south, passing the cemetery wherein lie the bodies recovered from the wreck of the Doterel. The origin of the explosion which caused that ship to go down with all hands within sight of the settlement, was long a matter of doubt. The most probable opinion is that it was due to the spontaneous ignition of gas generated in unventilated coal-bunkers. Nearly opposite lay the hull of another ship which became a partial wreck on this coast. It contained a cargo of Welsh coal, which is sold at the heavy price of four pounds a ton, and occasionally serves for steamers whose supply has run short.
Along the sandy shores the most conspicuous plant, with large white cottony leaves, is a species of Senecio (S. candidans of botanists), which, with nearly twenty others, represents that cosmopolitan genus in this region. What light would be thrown on the past history of the vegetable kingdom if we could learn the origin of that vast genus, and the processes by which it has been diffused throughout the world! Of about nine hundred known species that extend from the Arctic Circle to high southern latitudes, and from the highest zone of the Alps, the Himalayas and the Andes, to the low country of Brazil and the scorching plains of North and South Africa, the great majority are confined to small areas, and are unusually constant in structure, thus presenting a marked contrast to the ordinary rule, dwelt on by Darwin, that among genera that extend over a large portion of earth and have numerous species, the species, or many of them, are themselves widely spread and vary much in form. Neither do we find among the crowd of species many indications of the general tendency to form groups of species nearly allied in appearance and structure within the same geographical area. Many of the very numerous South American species are nearly allied to European and Asiatic forms. Thus in the comparatively small area of Europe we find the representatives of groups characteristic of regions widely separated, and even in the poverty-stricken flora of Britain such different forms as the common groundsel, the ragwort of neglected fields, and the less common Senecio paludosus, and S. campestris.
PACIFIC STEAMER DELAYED.
The day wore on, and yet no steamer appeared. Knowing people began to speculate on the possibility of some accident having delayed her arrival, or surmised the prevalence of such thick weather about the western entrance to the Straits as might have led her commander to make the circuit by Cape Horn. In the latter case, I should be detained for another fortnight, and although I should have gladly seen something more of the country, and found myself meantime fortunate in pleasant society, I did not in this season desire so long a delay. Once more I betook myself at night to the sofa in Dr. Fenton’s hospitable house, and at length, about four in the morning, a tapping at the window announced that the lights of the steamer were in view. Dr. Fenton, who wished to go on board, was speedily ready, and we went to the landing-place where, until the jetée, still in construction, should be finished, the boats are run up on the sandy beach. There was some delay in finding the key of the store where my luggage was housed, but at last we were ready to start. The boat, however, was fast aground on the flat margin of the bay; in vain the four boatmen shoved with their oars, until the taciturn port captain barked out the order to get into the water and shove her off. It was freezing hard, and I fear the poor fellows wished me and my luggage no good when, after much striving, we were finally afloat, and they resumed their places at the oars. In the dark the great hull loomed gigantic as, about five a.m., we pulled alongside of the steamer, which turned out to be the Iberia, one of the largest and finest vessels of the Pacific Company, commanded by Captain Shannon.
Having learned that the steamer had been detained by very heavy weather in the South Pacific, and had had great difficulty in making Cape Pillar, the western landmark of the Straits, I bade farewell to my kind host, and sought for quarters in the great floating hotel. There is something depressing in arriving in a place of entertainment on a cold night, when it is obvious that one’s appearance is neither expected nor desired. After a while a steward, scarcely half awake, made his appearance, and arranged my berth. I soon turned in, and slept until near nine o’clock, when we were already well on our way towards the Atlantic opening of the Straits. The morning was bright and not very cold, and for the first time since I entered this region the weather remained unchanged during the day, and the sky clear, with the exception of heavy banks of cloud which showed in the afternoon above the southern and western horizon.
In the morning, when about twenty miles north of Sandy Point, and nearly abreast of Peckett Harbour, the unmistakable peak of Mount Sarmiento was for a short time distinctly seen. It is needless to say that this was due to atmospheric refraction, for the distance was rather over a hundred English miles, and in a non-refracting atmosphere a mountain seven thousand feet high would be below the visible horizon at a distance of about eighty-five miles. Of Mount Darwin, which is believed to be the highest summit of the Fuegian Archipelago, I was not destined to see anything; it is probably completely concealed by the range which runs across the main island of Tierra del Fuego.
RE-ENTERING THE ATLANTIC.