Chapter 7. Rounding Cape Horn

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_ CHAPTER SEVEN. ROUNDING CAPE HORN

On drifted the boat! Darkness was above us--darkness was around us!-- that small beacon-light the only source of hope. Without it we must have given way to despair. How eagerly, how intently we listened for the sound of Cousin Silas's shout, should he have succeeded in reaching the shore! We came almost abreast of the light; not a sound reached our ears.

"It is a long distance for the voice of a man exhausted with swimming to be heard," said Burkett. "He scarcely, too, could have reached there yet." We thought not either. We relapsed into silence and listened.

"O Burkett! what of the kelp?" suddenly exclaimed Kilby. "Can he ever swim through it?"

My heart sunk within me as I heard the question; what man, even the strongest swimmer, freshly taken to the water, could force his way through those tangled masses of sea-weed? My noble-hearted cousin, was he then to be the first victim among us?

"The shore is sandy thereabouts, and unusually free from kelp. There is a natural dock where the schooner lies, and clear water all round."

These words spoken by Burkett again revived my hopes. Still not a sound reached us. We could distinguish no signal from the shore to give us hope. Blacker and blacker grew the night. More keenly whistled the wind. The sea-birds' shriek, echoing it seemed from the caverned rocks, sounded like a funeral wail. We fancied that many a fierce albatross was hovering over our heads, to pounce down on us when nature gave way before our sufferings.

"Harry, Harry!" said Gerard in a low voice, "I don't think I can stand this much longer. Oh, my poor father! my poor father! how sorry he will be to think that I should often have done things which I knew would vex him."

"Silence," said Burkett; "we must try at all events and make ourselves heard, lest Brand should have failed to reach the shore. Now get ready for a shout; never fear cracking our voices."

We were just then, as far as we could judge, directly abreast of the light. Every instant after this would be making our case more hopeless. How we shouted, again and again! but all we heard in return was the discordant shriek of the sea-fowl as they flew away startled at the noise. So we drifted on. In vain we shouted; our voices grew weary, and we gave it up in despair. Our eyes were still fixed on the light. We sunk lower and lower. We held on to the boat, but every moment increased our difficulty in so doing, the wind getting up, or rather we had drifted into a more exposed part of the channel, and the boat began to toss about, while the spray beat wildly over us. How long the time seemed! Every moment was counted as a minute; every minute as an hour. We had to gripe on to the keel with all our might, or we should have been washed off. With the greatest difficulty we could retain our hold. Yet we could still see the light dimly glimmering in the distance; but as that grew fainter and fainter, so did our hopes of being rescued. Scarcely could we see the light; dimmer and dimmer it grew; then we looked--it had disappeared! The rapid current hurried us on. The wide, storm-tossed Southern Ocean lay spread out before us. Darkness was around us. No land could be distinguished. Hope of life fled. We all prayed. We encouraged each other. We resolved not to give way to despair while life remained. We had to speak in a loud tone to be heard.

"Silence!" exclaimed Burkett abruptly. "I heard a sound. Yes, yes! See, see! Heaven be praised; that noble fellow Brand is safe, and we may yet be saved!" As he spoke, a thin stream of light shot upwards from the dark ocean, and broke into a thousand beautiful coruscations above our heads. "A rocket! the schooner had some on board for signals," cried Burkett. "She is under weigh to look for us!"

About the light we had no doubt; but it was scarcely possible that he could have heard any sound. None, at all events, had reached our ears. A few moments before, we had been prepared to die; now life, with its many fancied advantages, occupied all our thoughts. With intense eagerness we looked towards the spot whence the rocket had ascended. All was darkness. Suddenly a light burst forth; of intense brightness it seemed, as it shed its rays over the foam-sprinkled, dancing water, and showed us clearly the spars, and rigging, and white canvas of the schooner. We shouted long and lustily, but we were too far off to be heard. Our hearts sunk, for she was standing away from us. Once more we shouted. Our shout was answered from a different direction from that where we had seen the schooner. Earnestly we listened. We could distinguish, too, the loud barking of a dog.

"Old Surley is safe, at all events. I am glad of that, poor fellow," exclaimed Gerard. "I like that old dog."

We watched eagerly. A light was observed dancing over the seas. Again we cried out. How cheery struck those sounds on our ears, which we had thought would never hear the human voice again. In less than five minutes a whale-boat dashed up to us, with old Surley in her bow, and at her stern sat Cousin Silas. We were saved! and before we could speak, we sank down on our knees, to return thanks to Him whose right arm had preserved us. A few words served to tell us how Cousin Silas had reached the shore a little way above the station, with old Surley as his companion; how kindly he had been received, and how promptly every one rushed to man the boats to hasten to our rescue.

In less than an hour we were at the station, when the schooner and the other boats soon returned. We were put to bed and rubbed with blankets, and had hot rum and water poured down our throats, so that very soon we recovered; nor did we suffer any material injury from the cold and wet to which we had been so long exposed. The schooner had been delayed, being unable to complete her cargo of seal-skins by the time expected. The next day we sailed, and in three days arrived safely in Stanley. We found the _Triton_ ready for sea, and only waiting our return to sail. I was in the cabin when Captain Frankland first saw Gerard after hearing of our escape. Tears stood in the old man's eyes as he took his son in his arms; and I saw by the expression of his countenance how he loved him. Mr Brand always stood high in his estimation; when he heard of what Silas had done, he stood higher still. I must own it, Jerry and I very soon forgot the awe-inspiring thoughts which had passed through our minds while we expected so soon to be called into eternity. Our chief concern was, having lost our guns and gamebags. We were, therefore, highly delighted when Burkett and Kilby made their appearance on board, each with a very good fowling-piece in his hand, with powder-flasks and shot-belts, and all other requisites, and begged our acceptance of them, in remembrance, as they said, of the adventures we had gone through together.

"Thank you, thank you," we exclaimed; "we'll not forget you, at all events, wherever we go."

We called our guns after the good-natured donors, and had their names engraved on them. Many a wild-fowl did Burkett and Kilby knock over in various parts of the world. Old Surley accompanied our visitors. Mr Brand and he had become great friends after their long swim together; and Kilby, to whom he belonged, in the warmth of his heart presented him to Cousin Silas, who, very much to our satisfaction, did not refuse the gift. Thus old Surley became our companion in many a subsequent adventure. Just before we sailed, some very sad news reached the colony. It was the death of Captain Allen Gardiner and his six companions on the bleak coast of Terra del Fuego, where they had gone for the purpose of forming a missionary establishment, with the hope of spreading a knowledge of the Christian faith among the benighted inhabitants of those wild regions.

Captain Gardiner had left England in the autumn of 1850, with Dr Williams, a surgeon, who went forth as a catechist; Mr Maidment, who held the same office; Erwin, a carpenter; and three Cornish fishermen, named Badcock, Bryant, and Pearce. The _Ocean Queen_, the ship in which they took their passage, proceeded on her passage to the Pacific, after landing them at Banner Cove in Picton Island, which will be found near the entrance of Beagle Channel, about half way between the Straits of Le Maire and Cape Horn. They had with them two large boats, called the _Pioneer_ and _Speedwell_, and two small punts, with tents and stores; but their supply of provisions appears to have been very scanty. Scarcely had they pitched their tents when the natives collected in considerable numbers, and threatened to attack them. To avoid collision, they ultimately took to their boats, intending to seek another spot where they might form their station. They put to sea; but in going out of the harbour the _Speedwell_, under charge of Dr Williams, got entangled among the rocks, and was nearly lost. All hands on board suffered much. Captain Gardiner had in the meantime found Bloomfield Harbour, which he thought would suit them, but during his cruise had lost the punts he had in tow. He at last returned to Banner Cove; but on sailing again his boat got on shore. Then it was discovered that all their powder had been left on board the ship, and so they had no means of killing the wild-fowl on which they depended chiefly for their support. Some of their provisions they buried here as a reserve. Again they put to sea; but their boats, which they clearly had not strength to manage, were beached on their way to Bloomfield Harbour. After a fortnight's delay, they got afloat and sailed on to a spot about forty miles along that iron-bound coast, called Spaniards' Harbour, which, after much consultation, they agreed would be the fittest place for their location. Here they arrived at the end of January 1851; but the _Pioneer_ was driven on shore, and irretrievably wrecked. So they collected what stores they could save, and dragged them into a cave near the spot--her remains being hauled up on the beach. Dr Williams, meantime, carried the _Speedwell_ further up the harbour, and anchored her there. Disasters followed them. A tide higher than usual washed into the cave, and swept away a large portion of their stores; then a hut they had built under the rook caught fire; and Captain Gardiner barely escaped with his life; lastly, scurvy broke out. Their provisions were running very short, so they sailed back to Banner Cove, to procure those they had left there. The provisions were found; but the scanty store could only last them a few months. They seemed to have a foreboding of the fate which awaited them. On conspicuous places on the rocks they wrote in large letters, "Go to Spaniards' Harbour. Hasten! hasten! We are suffering from sickness--we are nearly starving!" Words of the same signification were written on paper, and buried in bottles where they might most likely be found.

They reached Spaniards' Harbour by the end of March. Captain Gardiner took up his habitation at the cave, in the place he called Earnest Cove, to watch for those who, it was hoped, would come to their relief; while Dr Williams went to a more sheltered spot, up the harbour, at the mouth of Cook's River, with the _Speedwell_. The months passed slowly by. Their food was all gone. They caught and ate mice, a fox, a fish half devoured, a penguin and shag--most unwholesome food--and then mussels and other shell-fish; and then the Antarctic winter set in; and lastly, through disease and starvation, one by one they died. They had kept a daily record of their proceedings--of their sufferings. While they had strength, they occasionally assisted each other. The last effort of the two survivors was to go on crutches to Cook's River, to learn the state of Dr Williams, who had for long not come to them; but their weak state compelled them to abandon the attempt, and they returned to die in Earnest Cove. Maidment had been sleeping in the cave--he died there; Captain Gardiner near the remains of the _Pioneer_, which had been hauled up on the beach, and with which he had formed a slight shelter for himself from the weather. They had kept their journals to the last; and wonderful as it may seem, though storms had raged and rains had fallen, those journals had been preserved. Captain Gardiner's last written words were addressed to Dr Williams, of whose death he was not aware:--

"Dear Dr Williams,--The Lord has seen fit to call home another of our little company. Our dear departed brother left the boat on Tuesday afternoon, and has not since returned. Doubtless he is in the presence of his Redeemer, whom he served faithfully. Yet a little while, and though ... the Almighty, to sing praises ... throne. I neither hunger nor thirst, though ... days ... without food ... Maidment's kindness to me ... heaven."

In October a schooner was despatched from Monte Video with provisions, under the charge of a Captain Smyley. Too late he reached Spaniards' Harbour, and having just time to visit the _Speedwell_ in Cook's River, a gale springing up, he was compelled to put to sea without ever landing at Earnest Cove. In the meantime, Captain Morshead, in the _Dido_ frigate, having sailed from England, was ordered to call at Picton Island with relief for the party. After continuing the search for some time, they were about to abandon it, when the inscriptions on the rocks were discovered, calling on them to go to Spaniards' Harbour. There the _Dido_ proceeded. Maidment's body was found in the cave, Captain Gardiner's by the side of the boat, with their journals and books scattered around. Their remains, with those found at Cook's River, were carefully interred in a grave on the beach--the funeral service being read by one of the lieutenants. The colours of the ship and boats were struck half-mast, and three volleys of musketry fired over the graves. The journals--not a word of which was, as I have said, rendered illegible--were carefully forwarded to England, and, like voices from the grave, have undoubtedly instigated many to aid those who seek to spread the truth of the gospel among the savage inhabitants of those wild regions.

"Those noble Christian men have not suffered in vain; and yet they met the just doom of those who neglect to take those precautions which are necessary for the preservation of life. God has, in his infinite wisdom, given us reason and forethought; and that reason and forethought we ought to employ as much when engaged in his service, as when occupied about the ordinary affairs of life." This remark was made by Captain Frankland, and I have often since reflected on it; and I trust that by repeating it, it may tend to guide the plans of those labouring in objects for the spread of God's great name and glory, and all the blessings of the gospel throughout the world. The particulars of the narrative I have thus briefly given had just reached Stanley, and were the subject of conversation among all those who had any idea above that of the price of seal-skins and the profits of the last wreck on their shores.

With a fair wind and fine weather we sailed to double Cape Horn, intending to pass through the Straits of Le Maire. Often on the passage did Gerard and I and Cousin Silas talk of the fate of Captain Gardiner, and long to visit the spot where he and his brave companions died, and to see the strange wild natives it had been his ardent desire to bring to a knowledge of the truth. The favourable breeze carried us through the straits, and as the well-defined outline of the rocky shores of Terra del Fuego rose before us, we gazed with deep interest on a land which had been the scene of the sad catastrophe now occupying our thoughts.

To the west and north of us were numerous islands clustering together, of various sizes, with deep channels between them, most of them consisting of rocky mountains, often rising in perpendicular precipices from the ocean, and shooting upwards to a vast height in towering peaks and rugged crags, untrod by the feet of man or beast. Along the shores of these numerous isles and islets are gulfs and bays, and coves and creeks without number, often with level ground in their neighbourhood producing a somewhat rich vegetation, and forming a great contrast to the terrifically wild and barren tracts which are the chief characteristics of the region. Bold, precipitous headlands, with dark barren elevations behind them, appeared on our right as we skirted the northern shores of the straits. We made Cape Good Success, and a little way beyond it, crossed abreast of the mouth of Spaniards' Harbour, into which rolls the whole set of the South Atlantic. Then standing on till near the entrance of the Beagle Channel, up which a little way lies Picton Island, we stood away towards Cape Horn, so as to steer close round it into the Pacific. Captain Frankland had often been here, and had once brought up in a harbour for many days from bad weather, when he had surveyed many of the passages in his boats. I was below; Gerard rushed into the cabin.

"We are off the Cape! we are off the Cape!" he exclaimed; "it is a sight worth seeing." I hurried on deck, and thence I beheld rising not a mile from us, in all its solitary grandeur, that far-famed promontory Cape Horn,--a lofty pyramid frowning bold defiance towards the storm-tossed confines of those two mighty oceans which circle the earth. Dark clouds rested on its summit, foam-crested waves with ceaseless roar dashed furiously at its base, the sea-fowl flew shrieking round it; and as I gazed at it, I could not help thinking how an old heathen would have believed it the very throne of the god of storms. Well has it earned its fame. Scarcely were we round the Cape, when the wind, which had hitherto been favourable, shifted suddenly to the westward and southward, and dark clouds came rushing up from that quarter in hot haste, like a stampede of wild animals on the prairies of America. The long swell which had been rolling up from the east was met by a succession of heavy waves torn up by the fierce gale blowing along the whole course of the Southern Pacific, creating the wildest confusion on the world of waters. A few minutes before it seemed we were gliding smoothly on before a favourable breeze, under topsails and top-gallant-sails; now the ship was madly plunging into the foam-covered tossing seas.

"All hands shorten sail!" cried Mr Renshaw, the first officer.

"All hands shorten sail!" was repeated along the decks.

"I thought how it would be when I saw the nightcap on the top of the Horn," muttered old Ben Yool. "We shall have a sneezer before we have done with it, and it may be this day month won't see us round the Cape."

Old Ben's prognostications were not very pleasant, for we were anxious to be round the Cape among the wonders we expected to behold in the Pacific. Scarcely was the order given, than the crew were in the rigging. Top-gallant-sails were quickly stowed, three reefs were taken in the topsails, and the courses were brailed up and furled. This was done not a moment too soon: the mighty seas came rolling up mountains beyond mountains, with wide valleys between them, into whose depths the ship plunged down from each watery height as it came under her, seeming as if she could never rise again. Still once more she was lifted upwards among showers of spray, which flew off from the white-crested seas, deluging us fore and aft. Overhead the wild scud flew fast, the stern Cape looked more solitary and grand, and the sea-fowl with discordant shrieks flew round and round, closing in the circles they were forming till they almost touched our masts. The ship struggled bravely onward on the starboard-tack, rapidly increasing her distance from the land, but making very little way to the westward.

More than once I held my breath and clenched my teeth, as I felt the ship sending forward, and saw the wide, deep valley into which she was plunging, and the long, huge, watery height rolling on towards us, and looking as if it must overwhelm us. And then, when having, by a miracle it seemed, escaped the threatened danger, to see another valley just as deep and wide, and another mountain just as big--and to know that though we might rush ever so fast onward, we should find valley after valley just as deep, and mountain after mountain just as big for days and days, or weeks to come, perhaps; when, too, I heard the howling and whistling of the wind, and the creaking and complaining of the timbers and bulkheads, and the roar and dash of the seas,--I own that I could not help wishing that my feet were planted on some firm ground, and that I were enjoying the wild scene from a distance.

"O Jerry, where are we going to?" I exclaimed, when we first met the full swell of the Pacific.

"Going? why, to the west coast of South America, and to Robinson Crusoe's Island, and to all sorts of wild places," he answered, laughing. "We have rather a rough road before us, as you say; but never mind, Harry, you'll soon get accustomed to it, and a little bumping is good for the digestion, they say."

Jerry was right; in a very short time I was as much at home as any one in a gale.

The puff we had got off the east coast of America showed me what a gale was; but that was mere child's play to the storm now blowing. When I thought anything was at its worst, when matters wore a most gloomy and threatening aspect, I could not but admire the coolness and self-possession of Captain Frankland and his officers. They seemed to take it all as a matter of course, and walked the deck as composedly as in a calm, only they had to hold on pretty tightly at times to the weather-railings, when the ship, with a sudden jerk, was sent over to port, and then back again almost as far on the other side. It was fine, however, to see the tall figure of Captain Frankland, as he balanced himself, leaning backward when the ship shot downwards into the trough of the sea; and I soon gained confidence from the perfect composure he exhibited. Very soon the wind came round more to the northward of west, and the ship looked up rather nearer to her course round the Cape. Our satisfaction, however, was soon destroyed by the redoubled fury with which the gale came down on us. The captain beckoned Mr Renshaw and Mr Brand to come to him. They stood in earnest conversation on the quarter-deck. Darkness was coming on--I could just see their figures grouped together. With startling energy Mr Renshaw had just given the order to furl the fore and mizzentop-sail, to heave the ship to, when there was a loud crash.

"Down! down for your lives!" shouted the captain. The main-topmast had been carried away. Masts, and yards, and blocks, and rigging, came hurtling down on deck in one mass of ruin, injuring two or three of our men, and knocking one poor fellow overboard. In vain an attempt was made to save him. To lower a boat would have been madness. His death-shriek sounded in our ears as he dropped astern, and soon sunk beneath the dark, troubled waters. We had little time to think of his fate--the fate of many a gallant seaman. Our own danger was great. The mates sprung forward to clear the wreck, and to secure as well as could be done the other masts. The fear was that the fore-topmast and mizzen-topmast, if not the lower masts, deprived of their support, might go likewise. The wreck was quickly cleared, and the masts got on board. To stand on or to heave to were equally out of the question. It was necessary to put the ship before the wind. The mizzentop-sail was furled, the helm put up, and the ship was to be wore round. Now came the danger. In wearing, if a sea strikes a ship abeam, there is a great risk of her bulwarks being stove in, and of everything being washed from her decks. Every one held on to whatever he thought most secure. The ship wore steadily round. A huge sea came rolling on, but already the fore-yard was squared; it struck her on the counter, and she flew unharmed before it. Instead, however, of running to the eastward, she was headed up towards the land. No one turned in that night. Sharp eyes were on the look-out for land. Cape Horn, like some gigantic spirit of the deep, was seen towering up amid the raging ocean. On we kept. Once more we were under shelter of the land, the mizzen-top-sail was set, and we ran up just outside those islands which cluster thereabout so thickly, till at daylight we were off the mouth of a channel, up which we ran, and dropped our anchor in a fine land-locked harbour.

"We are far better off here than battering about outside, and knocking the ship to pieces," observed Mr Pincott, the carpenter. "Now, if we could but get a fresh spar for a topmast, we should soon be all ataunto."

As, however, we were not likely to find spars large enough for the purpose in this part of the world, it was necessary to make use of the broken one. While this work was going on, it was resolved to hold some communication with the natives. A boat was lowered, under charge of Mr Brand--Gerard and I and Mr McRitchie going in her, and two hands, as no more could be spared from attending to the repairs of the ship. We were all armed, but the captain directed us to be very careful in our intercourse with the wild people we might meet. We had with us some trinkets, glass necklaces, bracelets, rings, gilt lockets, knives, scissors, and other trifles, to barter with them, or to win their good-will. After pulling some way, we reached a sandy cove surrounded with trees of good height, and a quantity of brushwood below them. We saw several wigwams among the trees, and two canoes hauled up on the beach. Beyond the wood were ranges of high hills, the nearest ascending almost precipitously from the water, while those further off were worthy of the name of mountains. It was altogether a very beautiful and attractive scene--the more so, that it was totally unexpected in that region. No natives were visible, so we ran the boat on shore, and landed. The wigwams were in shape like those of the North American Indians composed of a number of long sticks stuck in the ground in a circle, and bending inwards till their other ends met, and were secured together with a band. Instead of being covered with birch bark, these were thatched very neatly with dry grass or reeds, and formed very warm abodes. In the centre a pile of ashes showed where their fires were placed. Their canoes were very like those of North America, being built of bark, with ribs neatly formed, and kept in shape by several beams athwartships secured to the gunwale. Near the wigwams were two other partly finished canoes. While we were examining these rude habitations and means of locomotion, a shout from the two men left in the boat made us look up, and in an opening in the wood we saw some dozen or more savages advancing stealthily towards us. Mr Brand, the instant he saw them, told us to fall back behind him; and he then advanced alone, patting his stomach,--the sign of amity among these people. It is as much as to say, I suppose, "I have had a good dinner, and I hope that you have had one also." They, in return, all shouted and gesticulated most vehemently, pointing to their mouths in their eagerness to speak, not being aware, probably, that we did not understand a word they said; however, at last they began to pat their stomachs, and then we knew that all was right. Accordingly we advanced to meet them, patting our stomachs with one hand, and holding out the other to grasp theirs. They were of a brownish copper colour, well formed and athletic, with long shaggy hair--their only clothing being a piece of skin thrown over one shoulder. In such a climate as that of Terra del Fuego, their being able to go without clothes shows that they must be of a very hardy nature. We were soon surrounded by some thirty or more of these very unprepossessing gentlemen, all talking most furiously to us or at us, some patting us on the back, and others examining our handkerchiefs, and caps, and buttons, or any article of our dress they could get hold of. We patted them on the back in return, but as they had no clothes, we took hold of their hair and admired it; and Jerry must needs catch one fellow by the nose, and assured him that he had a very handsome nob! In this way we in a short time became excellent friends, though, as we had no interpreter, we could only communicate with each other by signs. When they found that we did not understand what they said, they hallooed louder and louder; and as they had voices of most stentorian power, they at last spoke to us in a perfect roar, till they almost deafened us! By their tones we fancied that they were saying, "Well, if you cannot understand that, you must be desperately stupid fellows."

When they found that we had come as friends, they invited us to accompany them to the village, or, as Jerry called it, their wigwamment, about a quarter of a mile off, in a sheltered nook among the trees. Fearing no treachery, we agreed, and we walked along in the most amicable way, they slapping us on the back, and we slapping them, while they often indulged in the most uproarious shouts of laughter. Stopping suddenly, they asked us by signs if we were hungry, and immediately gathered a number of fungi, which grew in clusters round the roots of a tree which Mr McRitchie told us was an evergreen beech. They handed them to Jerry and me, at the same time patting us on the stomach.

"What are these toadstools for, old gentleman?" exclaimed Jerry, holding them up and laughing. "They don't want us to eat these, surely, for our luncheon?"

"They do, though," said Mr McRitchie. "They are the edible fungi. Just take a piece; the people hereabouts eat them largely."

Jerry on this took a large mouthful, but spat it out, declaring that he would just as soon eat shoe-leather. I ate a small piece, but thought it tasted very insipid, and not very digestible. The savages looked astonished at our want of taste, and, to show that they appreciated the production more than we did, crammed quantities of it into their mouths.

"Come, Mr McRitchie, for the advancement of science you must eat some!" exclaimed Jerry, handing him a big fungus.

This was a favourite expression of the doctor's; nor, to do him justice, was he slack to put his principles into practice. I have since often remarked in England the roots of beech trees completely surrounded with masses of fungi not unlike them in appearance. The doctor ate enough to redeem our character with the savages, and then we proceeded in the same amicable way as before, till we reached their village. It consisted of ten wigwams, some of considerable size, capable of holding twelve or more people. They were neatly thatched with straw, and their doorways had a piece of carved wood, so as to form an arch overhead. Several little, long-backed, sharp-eyed, hairy terriers came barking out and snapping at our heels, and wore very annoying till they were called off by their masters. In and about the huts were a number of women and children, the former far from unpleasant in their looks, though as dirty as the men. Indeed, from their appearance, we had reason to doubt whether any of the tribe had ever washed in their lives. The women had a modest, retiring look; and the children seemed in no way frightened when they saw us. Cousin Silas had a happy knack of making friends with savages, and especially with their children. His secret, I found, was great gentleness. While Mr McRitchie, Jerry, and I sat down on a log facing the huts, he advanced slowly towards the nearest group of children with some bracelets and lockets, which he now first produced, singing and dancing at the same time, so as to attract their attention. They stared at him with open eyes, but showed no inclination to run away till he got near enough to slip the string of a locket over the neck of the tallest child--a little girl--and a bracelet over the arm of another; and then, taking their hands, he began slowly to move round and round in a circle, beckoning to the rest of the children to join hands. This they readily did, and then two or three of the men--their fathers probably--joined the circle, and we got up and united our hands to those of the savages, and then several of the women came; and there we were-- Mr Brand, and the doctor, and Jerry, and I, and the savages--men, women, and children--all singing, and dancing, and jumping, and laughing like mad, till we were fain to stop for want of strength to go on. To show their satisfaction, the savages gave us all round some over-affectionate hugs, which, besides nearly squeezing the breath out of our bodies, were unpleasant on account of the very dirty condition of the huggers. We would not tell them that we did not like it, so we had to submit to the ceremony as often as they thought fit to perform it, and to put the best face we could on the matter. The dance over, they invited us into a wigwam. It was ten feet in diameter, with a fire on the ground in the centre. Round it were heaps of dry grass, on which apparently they slept; while bunches of grass were hung to the roof, probably to dry. The smoke found its way out of the doorway, and through a small aperture, where the poles at the apex joined. There we all sat round the fire, squatting on our heels, and talking away as fast as our tongues could move, as if we were keeping up a very interesting conversation. The smoke and heat, not to mention the want of cleanliness in our hosts, made us very glad to get out again into the fresh air. Besides the fungi I have spoken of, the Fuegians live chiefly on fish and the shell-fish they gather on the rocks, though they eat birds and grubs of all sorts--and, I fancy, nothing comes amiss to them. We observed that a platform of clay was placed in each canoe, on which to place a fire. There was also a sort of well at the bottom of the canoe, and out of it a man was constantly employed in bailing the water, which leaked in through the seams. The men we met were of good size, and robust; but their legs were thin and weak, owing to their sitting so much in their canoes and walking so little. When by degrees we produced our gifts, and distributed them among the party--men, women, and children--their pleasure knew no bounds. They danced, and laughed, and shouted into our ears louder than ever; so that we thought it would be as well to be off while they remained in such excellent humour. They were much astonished at seeing the doctor pull out his note-book and write in it. The doctor, to indulge them, made a few clear strokes; and a young man, who had attached himself to Jerry and me, imitated them in a wonderful way, considering his rough and uncouth hand. We had heard them making a number of strange sounds, and at last we discovered that they were imitating our words.

"Good-bye," said Jerry, as we got up to go away.

"Good-bye," replied our young friend as clearly as possible, seeming fully to comprehend the meaning of the words.

"You speak capital English," said Jerry, laughing.

"Capital English," repeated the savage, shouting with a laughter which was quite catching, as if he had said something very clever.

Then, having gone through another process of hugging, we proceeded to the boat, accompanied by our new friends. Having refitted the topmast, we waited till the gale had blown itself out; and once more putting to sea, we had a very quick passage round Cape Horn, now no longer clothed in storms, to Valparaiso, the sea-port of Santiago, the capital of Chili. _

Read next: Chapter 8. Adventures In Chili

Read previous: Chapter 6. Our Boat Adventure Among The Falklands

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