Two animals new to science were here obtained, viz., a small frog of a dirty yellow colour, which has since been described by Dr. Günther as a new species of "Cacotus," and an Uncinated calamary, which has since been examined by Mr. Edgar Smith, and found to represent a new species, to which he assigns the name "Onychoteuthis ingens." The last-mentioned specimen was found stranded on the beach. The body, from oral aperture to extremity of caudal appendage, measured fifteen inches, and the total length from caudal appendage to anterior extremity of tentacles was two feet nine inches. The tentacular hooks were very formidable. No other example of this species of squid was encountered.
Having completed the survey of the Covadonga Group, we again proceeded on our way northwards. On the first night we stopped at Gray Harbour, a port immediately to the northward of the English Narrows. As soon as we had anchored, Lieutenant Rooper and I took advantage of the few remaining hours of twilight and started off in the skiff, directing our course towards the head of the bay, where a fair-sized river entered the sea. We proceeded up the river for about a quarter of a mile, finding its banks composed of a bluish clay, and passing at its mouth a low triangular island, which seemed to be a delta formed of clay and sand washed down from the hills, and piled up here at the outlet where the fresh-water flow was dammed up in a measure by its contact with the sea. On the pebbly shores of the river we picked up several specimens of a pond snail—a species of Chilinia, I believe; and on working a light dredge in mid-stream, we obtained many more specimens of the same. The location was one eminently suggestive of the haunts of otters, nutria, and waterfowl, but not a solitary animal of the kind was to be seen. The disappointment, however, was one which our experience of similar and equally tempting localities had taught us to be prepared for. The surrounding country bore recent signs of having been devastated by a great fire, the mountain sides for miles being covered with the charred remains of a dense forest.
Owing to its proximity to the English Narrows, Gray Harbour is probably frequently used as a stopping place by passing steamers, whose occupants amuse themselves by firing the forest. It is rarely indeed in this habitually wet region that the forest is sufficiently dry to allow a fire to spread over any great extent of country.
We got under way at an early hour on the following morning (April 11th). It was a fine clear day, and the channels showed to great advantage, so that we were able once more to confirm the remark of old Pigafetta, that in fine weather there is in no part of the world scenery more lovely. At about four o'clock in the afternoon we anchored at Hale Cove, a port situated close to the northern outlet of the Patagonian Channels, and here for the last time we anchored in Patagonian waters. Rain awnings were now stowed away, top-gallant masts were sent up, boats were topped and lashed, and all other requisite arrangements were made for our final departure from the Magellan region, and for encountering the long heavy ocean swell which we were sure to find awaiting us to seaward.
I had a run on shore for a few hours before nightfall, and was much gratified at finding two plants which I had not previously met with in these channels. One was a tall branching fern of the genus Alsophila, whose long slender woody stems, rising obliquely from the ground to a height of six feet, were crowned with a magnificent spray of dark-green glossy fronds. The other was a shrub of creeping habit, probably of the family Vacciniaceæ, with smooth ovate-acute leaves resembling those of the laurel, and bearing clusters of an egg-shaped fruit. No flowering specimens were seen. The trunks of the large trees were clothed with the beautiful fronds of the delicate Hymenophyllum cruentum, which here grows in great abundance. On the morning of the 12th of April we bade a final adieu to the Patagonian Channels.
During our passage northwards along the Chilian coast, sea-birds of various kinds hovered round us. Of these our most constant companions were the Cape pigeons (Daption capensis), albatrosses of two species (Diomedea fuliginosa and D. melanophrys), a small storm petrel (Oceanites grallaria), a Fulmar petrel (Thalassœca glacialoides), and a white-breasted petrel (Œstrelata defilippiana). A brown skua (Lestris antarctica) appeared on the scene now and then, creating consternation among the smaller petrels.
We arrived at Talcahuano, one of the most interesting of the Chilian ports, on the morning of the 20th of April, and were surprised and grieved to hear that a severe epidemic of small-pox prevailed at the town of Concepcion, some nine miles inland. The epidemic had begun in January, and we were informed by Mr. Elton, the British Vice-Consul, that since then no less than 1,500 deaths had occurred, the mortality of those attacked having been at the extraordinarily high rate of 90 per cent. Ominous rumours reaching us as to the epidemic having already extended to Talcahuano, our stay was wisely cut short, and the vessel was moved on to Valparaiso, and subsequently after a short stay to Coquimbo.
The passage from Valparaiso to Coquimbo occupied two days. As we were sitting at dinner on the evening of the 3rd of May, the officer of the watch reported that the ship was moving through patches of light-coloured stuff resembling shoal water. On going on deck, we saw wavy bands of straw-coloured water, about one hundred yards in length by twenty in width, which were plainly visible through the gloom of the night, the light-coloured patches having distinctly circumscribed margins, which showed out clearly against the surrounding dark water. At the same time, the sea in our wake was brilliantly phosphorescent. On plying the tow-net for a few minutes, I obtained a quantity of entomostracous crustaceans, and mingled with them a number of milk-coloured annelids, a species of Tomopteris, about one-eighth of an inch in length. A fringe of lateral appendages bordered its long, slender body, from whose anterior extremity projected two long antennæ, curving gracefully upwards and backwards. There were fifteen pairs of parapodia, the ends of which were furnished with tufts of cirri, which acted as swimming paddles for propulsion.
Our stay at Coquimbo this season extended from the 4th of May to the 14th of June, having been somewhat prolonged owing to the occurrence of a case of small-pox on board. Our principal amusement consisted in shooting excursions after the golden plover, or "pachuros," as the Chilians call them. These birds frequent the sandy plains, which form an elevated table-land, fringing the bases of the coast range of hills. One of our shooting-grounds was on a rather bare plain, encircling the base of a pyramidal hill called the Pan de Azucar, which lay at a distance of about eight miles from Coquimbo. It was a great undulating plain of waste sandy ground, with stunted shrubs growing here and there, but not affording any cover. Walking over it was laborious, for the ground was almost everywhere riddled with the burrows of the upucerthia, a sort of ant-thrush, which seems to make extensive underground tunnels in search of insect larvæ. I obtained a specimen, and found its stomach crammed full of insects. This bird is smaller than the U. dumetaria, and has a much shorter bill; moreover, in flying, the secondary feathers, which are of a brick-red colour, are very conspicuous. Sometimes, when walking over a riddled patch of ground, one heard a curious half-smothered "took, took," not unlike the cry of a ctenomys; and on treading firmly over the place from whence the noise seemed to issue, no sound would be audible for a minute or two, when the same noise would go on again from a place a yard or so away. The bird, of course, had moved along, for the tunnels communicate so that it is able to travel underground over a considerable area. The burrows of the ctenomys are larger and otherwise different from those now referred to. At the time of our visit the birds were not at all shy, allowing one to approach within a few yards of them. These are gregarious—at least at this time of the year—moving in flocks from place to place over the sandy plain; and it was sometimes rather astonishing to see a flock suddenly emerge from a number of burrow openings, and rise on the wing from a bare sandy patch of ground, where a moment previously there had been no sign of life.
