"At length did cross an albatross,
Thorough the fog it came."
Rogers[9] spells it "Alcatros, a large bird," he says, "who spread their wings from eight to ten feet wide."
The whole of this part of the voyage might, indeed, be described in quotations from the "Ancient Mariner," for we read that, December the 13th, "in the afternoon the little 'Duke's' mainsail was reef'd, which was the first time since we left England." For
"Now the storm blast came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong;
He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased us south along."
Again,
"And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold."
Or, as Rogers says, "We find it much colder in this latitude than in the like degree North, though the sun is in its furthest extent to the southward, which may be ascribed to our coming newly out of warmer climates, or 'tis probable the winds blow over larger tracts of ice than in the same degree of N. latitude."
Then we read of thick fog, in which they lose sight of their consort for many hours, "though we made all the noise agreed on between us." And so the monotonous sea-life wears on, varied only by the smallest events, as when, December 10th, the commanders agree to chop boatswain's mates, the "Dutchess'" "being mutinous, and they willing to be rid of him." Or how, on the 18th, "in cold hazy rainy weather, one of the men on board the 'Dutchess' fell out of the mizen top, and broke his skull," and Captain Rogers boards her "with two surgeons; where they examine the wound, but found the man irrecoverable, so he died, and was buried next day; brisk gales from W.N.W.," &c.
Falkland's Islands