to be mischievous, than the western race: their language sounded similar to that of the natives whom we saw in Orange Bay. We found a very large wigwam, built in a substantial manner, and a much better place to live in than many of the huts which are called houses in Chilóe. I think twenty men might have stood upright in it, in a circle; but, probably, of these Fuegians, it would house thirty or forty in the cold weather.
"While our men were making a fire and cooking, I walked into the wood, but found it bore little resemblance to that which our eyes had lately been accustomed to. The trees were mostly birch, but grew tall and straight. The ground was dry and covered with withered leaves, which crackled as I walked; whereas, in other parts where we had lately passed our time, the splashing sound of wet, marshy soil had always attended our footsteps, when not on rock. These Fuegians appeared to think the excrescences which grow on the birch trees, like the gall-nuts on an oak, an estimable dainty. They offered us several, some as large as an apple, and seemed surprised at our refusal. Most of them had a small piece of guanaco, or seal-skin, on their shoulders or bodies, but not enough for warmth: perhaps they did not willingly approach strangers with their usual skin dress about them, their first impulse, on seeing us, being to hide it. Several, whom I surprised at their wigwams, had large skins round their bodies, which they concealed directly they saw me. Fish and the birch fungus must be their chief food, for shell-fish are scarce and small; but they catch an abundance of excellent rock-fish, smelt, and what might be called a yellow mullet. Guanaco meat may occasionally be obtained by them, but not in sufficient quantity to be depended upon as an article of daily subsistence.
"Leaving the natives, we sailed across towards the western arm of the long channel, and continued making our way westward, with oar and sail, until dusk, when we landed, unperceived, as we thought, and established ourselves for the night. Just as we had moored the boat, kindled a fire, and pitched our tent, a canoe came into the cove; another and another followed, until we were surrounded with natives. Knowing
we must either drive them away by force, or be plagued with them all night, we at once packed up our things, and wished them good evening. About three miles further westward, we again landed, and fixed our tent in a cove, which gave us good shelter through the night, without any interruption. It was high water this afternoon at four o'clock (being the day of full moon), and the tide rose three feet. The channel here, and opposite the Narrow, is about three miles wide; on its north side is an unbroken line of high mountains, covered with snow to within about a thousand feet of the water. Southward are likewise snow-covered heights, so that the channel is formed by the valley lying between two parallel ridges of high mountains.
"8th. This morning it froze very sharply. We started at sun-rise, with a fine breeze from the eastward, and made a long run before it. The channel preserved the same character, and nearly the same width; on the north, the mountains continued without any opening; but a few miles farther, we saw what appeared to be one. I soon found that there was one passage leading westward, and another rather to the southward of west, which appeared to open into the sea. The easterly breeze failing, and squalls from the N.W. succeeding, we did not make much progress in the afternoon; yet before dark had reached the place where the two channels commence, and stopped for the night on a small island. Soon after dark, one of the boat's crew was startled by two large eyes staring at him, out of a thick bush, and he ran to his companions, saying he had seen the devil! A hearty laugh at his expense was followed by a shot at the bush, which brought to the ground a magnificent horned owl.
"Next day, we continued our westerly route. No natives were seen, though a few wigwams, of the round-topped kind, were passed. The westernmost sharp-pointed, or Yapoo wigwam, was on the main-land, close to the island of the Devil; it was made of small trees, piled up in a circle (the branches and roots having been broken off) with the smaller ends meeting at the top. The boat's crew said it had been a 'Meeting-House,' and perhaps they were not far wrong; for being so
large, and just on what might be called neutral ground between the two tribes, it is not unlikely that there may have been many a meeting there—perhaps many a battle. At the separation, or meeting of the two channels, it was high water at a quarter before five this morning, and the flood came from the west, about a knot an hour; the ebb-tide set to the west at about half that strength. Much drift-wood and large fragments of ice were carried along with it. Between some of the mountains the ice extended so widely as to form immense glaciers, which were faced, towards the water, by lofty cliffs. During a beautifully fine and still night, the view from our fireside, in this narrow channel, was most striking, though confined. Thickly-wooded and very steep mountains shut us in on three sides, and opposite, distant only a few miles, rose an immense barrier of snow-covered mountains, on which the moon was shining brightly. The water between was so glassy, that their outline might be distinctly traced in it: but a death-like stillness was sometimes broken by masses of ice falling from the opposite glaciers, which crashed, and reverberated around—like eruptions of a distant volcano.
"10. Before daylight this morning, we were on our oars; and by the time the sun was high enough for observing, were many miles westward of our resting-place. After sights, while the men were cooking, I obtained a few bearings, and prepared to return, not intending to go further westward. I saw water from that spot, more than twenty miles to the west (by compass); and then my view was limited by the channel turning towards the south. In those twenty miles, not the slightest appearance of an opening to the northward could be seen; mountain succeeded mountain, in unbroken succession. Three ridges, or ranges, could be traced, lying parallel to each other; and the nearest summits of those in the third, or furthest range, stretching from the northward and eastward of me, and continuing, as far as eye could reach, towards the north and west, were at least five leagues distant. Their height I supposed to be about four thousand feet: that of those nearest to me, about two thousand: and of those in the middle range, mentioned
just now, about three thousand. At a distance, the channel appeared to trend to the southward of west, and there the sides of the mountains seemed to be very bare, and weather-beaten, while near me they were covered with wood. This led me to conclude that farther westward they were open to the sea winds, and that there the channel ended. By the observations, I found that we were[[203]] nearly in the longitude of Christmas Sound, and in latitude 54° 54′ S., being therefore twenty miles south of the end of Admiralty Sound, but considerably to the westward of it. This position, and the bearings and estimated distances, showed me that the other arm of this long channel opened near the spot where Mr. Murray laid down (near the head of Christmas Sound) a 'channel, running to the eastward, beyond eyesight;' and that the branch in which I was must lead towards the bay or sound to the N.W. of Christmas Sound, at the base of very high land, which Mr. Murray laid down as 'an unbroken range of snow-covered mountains.' The time of high water in this channel exactly corresponded with that on the adjacent sea-coast, but did not nearly agree with that of the Strait of Magalhaens. These facts, and the appearance of the land, removed every doubt in my mind of the existence of an unbroken chain of mountains, reaching from the Barbara Channel to the Bell Mountain, and I therefore decided to spend no further time in searching thereabouts for a passage northward, but make all haste to examine the exterior shores.
"The channel here was about a mile wide, but the mountains on each side rising so abruptly, made it appear much narrower. It might be a good passage for a ship to sail through, from the westward, were it not for the trouble and anxiety of getting in with the land at the right place; and that a ship might sail on her course, in the open sea, by night as well as by day; but here she could hardly choose to run at night, because there are a few low islets, near mid-channel, in some parts. For a boat, in case of shipwreck, or other urgent reason, it might be convenient: but going through to the westward would be very difficult, because it would be