Another point may be here adduced, in proof of the rationality of this theory. The western, or mountainous part of Tierra del Fuego bears a strong resemblance to the western section of the continent,—that is, the part occupied by the Andes. For a considerable distance to the north of the Magellan Straits, nearly one half of the continental land is of a mountainous character. It is also indented by numerous sounds and inlets, resembling those of Tierra del Fuego; while the mountains that hang over these deep-water ravines are either timbered, or bare of trees and snow-covered, exhibiting glacier valleys, like those farther south. The whole physical character is similar; and, what is a still more singular fact, we find that in the western, or mountainous part of Patagonia, there are no true Patagonians; but that there, the water-Indians, or Fuegians, frequent the creeks and inlets.

Again, upon the east,—or rather north-east of Tierra del Fuego,—that angular division of it, which lies to the north of the Sebastian channel presents us with physical features that correspond more nearly with those of the plains of Patagonia; and upon this part we find tribes of Indians that beyond doubt are true Patagonians,—and not Fuegians, as they have been described. This will account for the fact that some navigators have seen people on the Fuegian side that were large-bodied men, clothed in guanaco skins, and exhibiting none of those wretched traits which characterise the Fuegians; while, on the other hand, miserable, stunted men are known to occupy the mountainous western part of Patagonia. It amounts to this,—that the Patagonians have crossed the Straits of Magellan; and it is this people, and not Fuegians, who are usually seen upon the champaign lands north of the Sebastian channel. Even the guanaco has crossed at the same place,—for this quadruped, as well as a species of deer, is found in the eastern division of Tierra del Fuego. Perhaps it was the camel-sheep—which appears to be almost a necessity of the Patagonian’s existence—that first induced these water-hating giants to make so extensive a voyage as that of crossing the Straits at Cape Orange!

At Cape Orange the channel is so narrow, one might fancy that the Patagonians, if they possessed one half the pedestrian stretch attributed to the giants of old, might have stepped from shore to shore without wetting their great feet!

Perhaps there are no two people on earth, living so near each other as the Patagonians and Fuegians, who are more unlike. Except in the colour of the skin and hair, there is hardly a point of resemblance between them. The former seems to hate the sea: at all events he never goes out upon, nor even approaches its shore, except in pursuit of such game as may wander that way. He neither dwells near, nor does he draw any portion of his subsistence from the waters of the great deep,—fish constituting no part of his food.

All this is directly the reverse with the Fuegian. The beach is the situation he chooses for his dwelling-place, and the sea or its shore is his proper element. He is more than half his time, either on it, or in it,—on it in his canoe, and in it, while wading among the tidal shoals in search of fish, mussels, and limpets, which constitute very nearly the whole of his subsistence.

It is very curious, therefore, while noting the difference between these two tribes of Indians, to observe how each confines its range to that part of the Magellanic land that appears best adapted to their own peculiar habits,—those of the Patagonian being altogether terrestrial, while those of the Fuegian are essentially aquatic.

We have stated elsewhere the limits of the Patagonian territory; and shown that, ethnologically speaking they do not occupy the whole northern shore of the Magellan Straits, but only the eastern half of it. Westward towards the Pacific the aspect of the land, on both sides of this famous channel, may be regarded as of the same character, though altogether different from that which is seen at the entrance, or eastern end.

West of Cape Negro on one side, and the Sebastian passage on the other, bleak mountain summits, with narrow wooded valleys intervening, become the characteristic features. There we behold an incongruous labyrinth of peaks and ridges, of singular and fantastic forms,—many of them reaching above the limits of perpetual snow,—which, in this cold climate descends to the height of four thousand feet. We have seen that these mountains are separated from each other,—not by plains, nor even valleys, in the ordinary understanding of the term; but by ravines, the steep sides of which are covered with sombre forests up to a height of one thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea: at which point vegetation terminates with a uniformity as exact as that of the snow-line itself! These forests grow out of a wet, peaty soil,—in many places impassable on account of its boggy nature; and of this character is almost the whole surface of the different islands. The trees composing the forests are few in species,—those of the greatest size and numbers being the “winter’s bark” (drymys), of the order magnoliacae, a birch, and, more abundantly, a species of beech-tree, the fagus betuloides. These last-named trees are many of them of great size; and might almost be called evergreens: since they retain part of their foliage throughout the whole year; but it would be more appropriate to style them ever-yellows: since at no period do they exhibit a verdure, anything like the forests of other countries. They are always clad in the same sombre livery of dull yellow, rendering the mountain landscape around them, if possible, more dreary and desolate.

The forests of Tierra del Fuego are essentially worthless forests; their timber offering but a limited contribution to the necessities of man, and producing scarce any food for his subsistence.

Many of the ravines are so deep as to end, as already stated, in becoming arms or inlets of the sea; while others again are filled up with stupendous glaciers, that appear like cataracts suddenly arrested in their fall, by being frozen into solid ice! Most of these inlets are of great depth,—so deep that the largest ship may plough through them with safety. They intersect the islands in every direction,—cutting them up into numerous peninsulas of the most fantastic forms; while some of the channels are narrow sounds, and stretch across the land of Tierra del Fuego from ocean to ocean.