preponderated. The officers and crews of both ships were healthy, and elated with the prospect before them; our vessels were in every respect strong and sea-worthy; and we were possessed of every comfort and resource necessary for encountering much greater difficulties than we had any reason to anticipate.
There has existed much difference of opinion as to the correct mode of spelling the name of the celebrated navigator who discovered this Strait. The French and English usually write it Magellan, and the Spaniards Magallanes; but by the Portuguese (and he was a native of Portugal) it is universally written Magalhaens. Admiral Burney and Mr. Dalrymple spell it Magalhanes, which mode I have elsewhere adopted, but I have since convinced myself of the propriety of following the Portuguese orthography for a name which, to this day, is very common both in Portugal and Brazil.
CHAPTER II.
Enter the Straits of Magalhaens (or Magellan), and anchor off Cape Possession—First Narrow—Gregory Bay—Patagonian Indians—Second Narrow—Elizabeth Island—Freshwater Bay—Fuegian Indians—Arrival at Port Famine.
A contrary tide and light winds detained us at anchor near Cape Virgins until four o'clock in the afternoon, when, with the turn of the tide, a light air carried us past Dungeness Point, aptly named by Wallis from its resemblance to that in the English Channel. A great number of seals were huddled together upon the bank, above the wash of the tide, whilst others were sporting about in the surf. Cape Possession was in sight, and with the wind and tide in our favour we proceeded until ten o'clock, when the anchor was dropped. At daylight we found ourselves six miles to the eastward of the cape. The anchor was then weighed, and was again dropped at three miles from the cape until the afternoon, when we made another attempt; but lost ground, and anchored a third time. Before night a fourth attempt was made, but the tide prevented our making any advance, and we again anchored.
Mount Aymond[[11]] and "his four sons," or (according to the old quaint nomenclature) the Asses' Ears, had been in sight all day, as well as a small hummock of land on the S.W. horizon, which afterwards proved to be the peaked hillock upon Cape Orange, at the south side of the entrance to the First Narrow.
At this anchorage the tide fell thirty feet, but the strength of the current, compared with the rate at which we afterwards found it to run, was inconsiderable. Here we first experienced