I might go on indeed for hours describing all the wonders we saw during our short trip. Our last excursion was to the Corcovado Mountains, whence we looked down on the blue waters of the superb harbour of Rio, surrounded by sandy beaches and numerous snow-white buildings, peeping from amid the delicate green foliage which covers the bases of the neighbouring mountains, and creeps up almost to their summits; while the mountains are on every side broken into craggy and castellated peaks of every varied shape; the whole forming a not easily forgotten panorama. Once more we were on board and under weigh. The bay, as we sailed out, was full of vessels; but the flag of Old England was not, as I should have supposed, among the most numerous. With a fair wind we passed out of the harbour, and stood along the coast to the southward.
Chapter Five.
Adventures in the Falklands.
The reason, I believe, why sailors in a well-regulated ship are generally so happy, is, that they are never allowed to have an idle moment. Mr Renshaw was always finding something for the people to do; and when that work was finished, there was something else of equal importance to be done. The picture our deck presented on one day will serve for that seen on most days in fine weather: on one side the spun-yarn winches were going, manufacturing spun-yarn out of old junk—a never-ending source of employment; Mr Pincott and his mates were busily at work building a boat on the other; the sail-maker and his gang were repairing some of the sails, and making light ones for the gentle breezes of the Pacific; while Fleming and his crew were laying up rope, and the rest of the watch were knotting yarns, making sinnet, wad-bags, wads, chafing gear of all descriptions, such as worming, parcelling, roundings, spun-yarn, rope-yarn, marline, seizing, stuffs, and service of all kinds; the names of which things alone are, I suspect, sufficient to puzzle a landsman, so I will say no more about them. Aft were Captain Frankland, with one of the mates and Gerard and I, taking observations of the sun,—an employment in which, as I began to understand it, I felt great interest. It struck me that, as far as I saw, Captain Frankland took very little concern about the ship. He seldom spoke a word to any of the crew, and only occasionally on points of duty while on deck, to the mates. I soon found, however, that no man could more effectually exert himself, when his exertions were required. Hitherto there had been nothing to call forth his energies. With light winds and calm seas, he had better employment in his cabin. That very day a change came over the even tenor of our lives; scarcely were our sextants stowed away, when, as the captain was walking the deck, I saw him frequently turn his glance to the westward. There, over the land, in a moment it seemed, arose a bank of clouds, which every instant grew denser and denser, and came rushing toward us across the sky.
“All hands shorten sail!” shouted Captain Frankland, stopping suddenly in his walk. Quick as the word, the work in which everybody was engaged was stowed away, and up jumped the crew, all life and activity. Away they flew aloft—royals were sent down, top-gallant-sails were furled, and the yards were braced so as to take the wind on the starboard-tack. We had had the wind from the north-east, but it now fell almost a dead calm, and the lower sails began to flap idly against the masts; and under our topsails we waited the coming of the squall. It did not long delay; on it came in its majestic fury. On one side of us the whole sky was covered with a dense mass of threatening clouds, while the sea below appeared torn up into sheets of hissing foam; on the other, the sky was blue, and the water smooth as a polished mirror. There was not a breath of air where the ship lay. Then down on us came the fierce squall with its utmost fury—rain, hail, and wind united—over heeled the stout ship as if she had been a mere cockleshell, till her gunwale was buried in the water. I thought she would never rise again, but I kept my eye on Captain Frankland, who seemed as cool and collected as if nothing unusual was happening. With speaking-trumpet in hand, and holding on by the weather-rail, he ordered the mizen-topsail to be furled. The lee maintopsail braces were then slackened, to shiver the maintopsail; and the wind being taken out of it, the whole pressure was thrown on the headsail; the helm was then put a-starboard, and her bow paying off, righting herself, away flew the ship rapidly before the gale on an even keel. The foaming seas, rising every moment higher and higher, coursed each other up under our stern, as if angry at our escaping their power. Dark clouds were above us; dark hissing seas on every side; the thunder roared, the lightning flashed brightly: so terrific did the scene appear to me, that I thought at times that we must be hurrying to destruction. I concealed my feelings, for Gerard took the matter very coolly, and he was not likely to spare me if I expressed any unwarrantable alarm. After we had run on before the gale for some time, it began to moderate. We had all the time been going out of our course; so, to avoid losing more ground, the captain gave the order to heave the ship to. I had never before seen this operation performed. The fore-topsail was first furled, and the maintopsail, which was closely reefed, and the fore-topmast staysail were the only sails set. “Brace up the main yard!” was the next order given. “Now, down with the helm!” cried the captain, watching a favourable opportunity when a heavy sea had passed us. The ship felt the influence of the wind, and came up with her head to the westward; and then she rode, rising easily to the tops of the seas, and gliding slowly down into the valleys—their wild, foaming, hissing crests rushing furiously by her, but not a drop of water coming on board. I had never pictured to myself a scene so awfully grand as that which I now beheld in perfect security. On one side the waters rose in a wall high above the deck, and looked as if about to overwhelm us; while the next instant we were looking down into a vale of waters of depth so great, that it seemed, if we slipped into it, we should never again struggle upwards. When summoned to dinner, I went below with the expectation that I should be unable to have a mouthful; instead of which, there appeared to be very little more motion than usual, so easily rode the ship; and I could scarcely persuade myself that I had but just left a scene of such wild confusion on deck. The gale did not last more than twelve hours, and the ship was then once more put on her proper course for the Falkland Islands.
“Land ho! land ho!” was shouted one forenoon from aloft, with the usual prolonged cry. The Falkland Islands were in sight, and the land seen as we drew nearer, I found, was that about Cape Bougainville. We stood on, and next we made out the rugged hills above Berkley Sound, and then got close to the dark brown cliffs of Macbride’s Head, with hundreds of seals lying on the sands and rocks below them. We could hear the roar of the beasts as they looked up at us, indignant, I thought, at being disturbed by our approach; but Mr Brand told me that, fierce as they looked, they are a very harmless race, and easily captured. On the downs above were numerous cattle feeding, which gave us the idea that we were approaching some civilised part of the world. Passing Berkley Sound with a stiff breeze, which rushed out of it, we stood on for Mount Low, and then beat up Port William, which has a line of sand hills on one side of it, and Stanley Harbour at the end. Although the day was fine, the appearance of the country was not very attractive; for there are no trees—rocks, and sand hills, and tussac grass, and barren heights, being the chief features. We dropped anchor opposite Stanley, the capital of the settlement. Above a line of piers and quays appeared a double row of neat white cottages, inhabited by the pensioners who were sent out to assist in founding the colony. Round and about them are other houses and cottages, extending along the shores of the bay, and sprinkled on the sides of a gentle slope. They are generally of light tints, which contrast well with the dark background of the hill beyond, and give the place a pretty appearance. Further up is the church, not a very ecclesiastical-looking building; and beyond again, the cemetery, which has a neat chapel attached to it. The Government House is a long, low cottage edifice, which looks well from the harbour; and on the east of the town are some extensive stores, belonging to the Falkland Island Company, with their small fleet of vessels in front of it. On the west of the town is the Government Dock-yard, with block-house, workshops, guard-house, and stores, all neatly railed in. The surrounding country consisting of slight elevations, either rocky or covered with tussac grass, is not attractive. I could not help looking at the place with great interest, as the first infant British settlement I had seen; and I thought less of what it then was than of what it might become, under good management. The last idea was suggested to me, I must own, by Mr Brand.
The chief promenade in Stanley is called Ross Road, running right and left of the principal street for about two miles. On one side of it are built a number of houses facing the water, and among them are two or more hotels, of some pretensions. Behind this road are some smaller streets, inhabited by labouring people, Spanish Gauchos, and others. There are, perhaps, rather more than a hundred houses in the town, and between 400 and 500 inhabitants, including boatmen, stray sailors, Gauchos, and other wanderers. Several of the houses have gardens which produce a fair supply of vegetables, and beef is to be had in abundance; but as the colony produces very little else in the way of food, the inhabitants are somewhat hard up in that respect. The islands alternately belonged to England and Spain, till, in 1774, they were finally
