To an explorer, nevertheless, this region has great attractions, owing to these very facts. There is so much to discover, the scenery is so unusual, and there is the possibility of adventure at every step. All is uncertain, and the way has almost to be felt. Moreover, if perchance a fine interval comes, the storm-riven, ice-sheathed landscape is so astounding, the effects of light in so dense and wet an atmosphere are so extraordinary, that it is impossible to resist their fascination. Add to all this the spice of danger which still remained when I was there, and perhaps still remains. The natives were distinctly hostile to the white man. They were few in number, an amphibious race living in booths, practically in the Stone Age so far as tools and weapons were concerned; not very dangerous foes, therefore, yet subtle, and delighted to slay a white man if they got the chance. They would overpower him in his sleep, or lie in wait for him in the dense forest, through which they can travel far faster than he can. Many a man has been killed by them with their stone or glass-pointed arrows, shot out of the dense bush from the distance of only a yard or two. When I was lying in a small launch off the foot of one of the mountains, in the blackest darkness of a stormy night, a canoe laden with such Indians crept silently up alongside in the shadow of overhanging trees. Had we not been on the alert they would have tried to rush our boat, but, finding that impossible, they as silently glided away; and no trace of them was anywhere discoverable when morning dawned, though no doubt they were hidden somewhere near at hand and kept us under close observation.
MOUNT SARMIENTO FROM COCKBURN CHANNEL.
From a Photograph.
As we came into the maze of channels which surround and penetrate the mountains, though we saw no Indians, we were aware that our coming was noticed, because at different points columns of smoke arose into the air. It is thus that the savages communicate with one another. They have a smoke language, and news is passed quickly and silently from group to group. It was only when we landed and climbed to a high point overlooking the channels that we realized what was going on; for then we were able to observe the columns of smoke in a dozen or more different places—signals of our movements, spreading gradually over the archipelago from family to family of scattered Indians.
THE GLACIER OF MOUNT SARMIENTO.
From a Photograph.
The great mountain in this part of the world is Mount Sarmiento. It is only seven thousand two hundred feet high, but its glaciers reach to the sea, so that it may be compared on an equality, from a climbing point of view, with Mont Blanc, if that be thought of as sunk into water up to the snow region. On clear days Sarmiento is visible to voyagers through Magellan's Straits. It is a glorious mountain, surrounded by many other noble peaks. In form it is of supreme beauty, and its surroundings are of the most romantic character. It was this peak, of course, that I desired to attempt, and I stopped at Sandy Point for that purpose. After much trouble I obtained the loan of a steam-launch for a few days, and set forth in the usual bad weather. We voyaged up various channels, between steep hillsides streaming with more waterfalls than, I think, can elsewhere exist in an equal area. In Cascade Reach, for instance, there are literally hundreds of them, succeeding one another every few yards.
After a day's steaming we reached the foot of our peak, and with much difficulty found a treacherous anchorage. There were clouds everywhere above and below, and wooded banks loomed dimly into view close at hand; but towards sunset there were signs of the weather clearing up. It was one of those slow midsummer sunsets of high latitudes, when the colour comes very gradually and fades equally slowly. At first only the icy base of the mountain was visible in the grey shadow of clouds, with the dark forest ring around it, and the calm, black water below. Presently a soft, pink light crept up the tumbled ruin of the glacier, higher and higher, as the mist dissolved, and revealed steep ice walls scarred by serrated ridges, and a great arête set with pinnacles of splintered rock. Some white points on the summit crest appeared, but a soft cloud floated just above them, enveloping the top. Suddenly—so suddenly that all who saw cried out—away above this cloud, surprisingly high, appeared a point of light, as it were a brightly glowing coal. The fiery glow crept down and down till we beheld the likeness of a great pillar of red fire. It was a tower of ice-crusted rock reflecting the bright afterglow of sunset. Regathered mists wrapped the glorious vision away even before it had begun to fade. We remained afloat on the calm water, wondering at the utter silence all around. Not a breath of air stirred, no stone fell, no avalanche slipped. The babbling glacier-torrent above alone broke the evening stillness.