The next morning, five or six natives were seen crouching down among high grass, on the hill over our watering-well, waiting for the people to go for water; probably with the intention of assailing them, for it appeared afterwards that their slings and bows were in readiness. To show them they were not out of our reach, I caused a six-pound shot to be fired over their heads, which, as it went high above them, made no impression. The gun was then pointed lower, and another ineffectual shot fired. A third, however, fell close to them, when they jumped up, shook their mantles in the air, with the most violent gestures, and, apparently in a furious rage, scampered off; but the last man, before he disappeared, threw an immense stone, which did not reach one quarter of the distance.
We saw nothing more of the natives until the evening, when Lieutenant Mitchell, who went to look for them, found they had moved away to Rocky Bay, where they had encamped on the open beach. The next day, I sent him to endeavour to make peace, which he very easily effected, by the interchange of a few trifles.
After this we had much bad weather, during which most of the Indians kept close to their wigwams; but a few occasionally communicated with our watering party, quite peaceably, as if nothing had happened. A day or two after, the weather improved, and the Fuegians dispersed, probably for want of food, some going to the northward, but the greater part along shore to the southward. These people pointed upwards to the sky, when they were going away, repeating the word 'Pecheray.'
This was our last interview with the wretched Fuegians. Naturally petulant and quarrelsome, they are also ever intent upon mischief; the fear of punishment alone restraining them. Weakly-manned vessels passing through this Strait should always avoid them, if they are numerous; for unless they are given what they want, they try to steal it, and any consequent punishment probably brings on a quarrel. Their conduct, and servile bearing, at our first seeing them, gave them an appearance of being timid and inactive; while, in reality, they
are the very reverse. Had we attempted to land on the last occasion, I do not think we should have effected our object, without receiving some severe contusions from their stones, which they sling with such extraordinary precision and force: so much so, that I consider the sling, in their dexterous hands, to be equal to a musket in ours. Indeed, with many of us, a native would have had the advantage. It has been too much the practice, when obliged to fire upon them, to fire over their heads; by which proceeding the savages are led to consider our weapons as so uncertain in their effect, that they become much depreciated in their estimation. It would be almost preferable to inflict a slight wound, in order to show the nature of our arms, and as a warning against further hostilities.
When the Uxbridge, sealer, was at anchor in a harbour in the Magdalen Channel, some Indians, who were on board, angry at being ordered out of the vessel at sunset, threw stones at the person who was walking the deck, as they returned to the shore. Several muskets were fired over their heads, at which they expressed neither fear nor concern; but paddled leisurely away, and the next morning came off again to the vessel, as if nothing had happened. At Port Famine, Duclos Guyot had a skirmish with natives, the particulars of which are described in Dom Pernetty's History (ii. 653). Three of the Indians were killed, and three of the French were severely wounded. It may be here remarked, that the chief's name, according to M. Duclos Guyot, was 'Pach-a-chui,' which is not unlike 'Pecheray;' the women were called 'Cap, cap,' probably a mistake for 'Cab, cab;' which evidently means 'no, no!' for it was an expression we frequently used, and was never misunderstood. Their cunning is sufficiently proved by the theft of the Adelaide's boat, in St. Simon's Sound (page 142).
The absence of the Fuegians permitted us to move about a little; and among other places, we visited their late encampment at Rocky Bay, our approach to which was offensively indicated by a most sickening smell. On our way, I found two fossils; one was very interesting, bearing the appearance of a
large orthoceratite:[[174]] the other was a Venus. From Rocky Point we descried a strange sail, which, by her movements, we thought must be the Beagle: I returned, therefore, and sent Lieutenant Mitchell out to her. She arrived in the evening, but proved to be a ship belonging to the Hudson Bay Company, called the Dryad, bound to the Columbia River, and last from the Falkland Islands. She came to wait for Mr. Low, of the Adeona, who had promised to pilot her through the Magdalen Channel. The Adeona arrived on the 3d of May; and the following day, to our great joy, the Adelaide hove in sight: and being becalmed, was towed to an anchorage.
The result of her cruise proved to be very interesting, although no communication had been discovered between the 'Ancon sin Salida,' and the Skyring Water. The only loss they had sustained was, however, a severe one; Mr. Alexander Millar having died of inflammation in the bowels. The death of this promising young man threw a damp over the happiness we felt at meeting again, after having so nearly completed this long and tedious voyage.