Читать книгу Narrative of the surveying voyages of His Majesty's ships Adventure and Beagle, between the years 1826 and 1836 - Fitzroy Robert - Страница 7

Deer seen – Hope sails again – Eagle Bay – Gabriel Channel – 'Williwaws' – Port Waterfall – Natives – Admiralty Sound – Gabriel Channel – Magdalen Channel – Hope returns to Port Famine – San Antonio – Lomas Bay – Loss of boat – Master and two seamen drowned.

From Mr. Graves's report of the appearance of the channel to the S.E. of Dawson Island, I decided to proceed there as soon as the Hope was ready, for she required some alteration, and repairs.

A deer having been seen on Point St. Anna, Mr. Tarn landed, very early in the morning, eager for the prize, but could only get an ineffectual shot. At another time a few deer were seen by our party, near the river; but instead of returning with the information, they fired their guns, loaded with small shot only, which served but to scare them away. As the animal was new to us, and we had evidence of its being equally new to Science, I was anxious to procure a specimen, but never afterwards had an opportunity. Here Sarmiento saw the only deer which he mentions in his journal.

The morning of the 16th seeming more favourable, I set out in the Hope. The heights were covered with snow which had fallen the preceding night, the thermometer had been at freezing point, and much ice had formed; but the appearance of the weather deceived us: we had scarcely left the ship, when it began to rain, and by the time we reached Cape San Isidro the wind had freshened to a gale, which obliged me to anchor in Eagle Bay.

Having landed, a tent was pitched, and a blazing fire made to dry our clothes. In the evening the gale blew with great violence from S.W., and the Hope, at her anchor, sheered about by the squalls, was occasionally laid over so as to dip her gunwale under water.

The following day (17th), although the rain had ceased, the wind was still strong. Towards evening it fell, and early on the 18th we left Eagle Bay with a fresh breeze from E.N.E., and passed close to Port San Antonio; but were then delayed by calms and squalls. At noon a westerly wind sprung up, and we proceeded down the Gabriel Channel, with the wind aft, and the tide in our favour. Port Waterfall sheltered us for the night.

The apparently artificial formation of this channel is very striking. It seems to have been formerly a valley between two ridges of the range, in the direction of the strata (of which there are frequent instances, such as the valley in the Lomas Range, opposite Cape San Isidro, the valley of Valdez Bay, and one immediately to the north of the channel itself, besides many others), and that at some remote period the sea had forced its way through, effecting a communication between the Strait and the waters behind Dawson Island: as if one of those great 'northern waves,' of which we once heard so much, had rolled down the wide reach of the Strait (the parallelism of whose shores is also remarkable) from the north-west, towards Cape Froward; and finding itself opposed by the Lomas Range, had forced a passage through the valley until stopped by the mountains at Fitton Bay. Having imagined such a wave in motion, the reader may fancy it uniting with another northern roller from Cape San Valentyn, attacking the hills and carrying all before it, until Mount Hope, at the bottom of Admiralty Sound, arrested its course. I have already noticed the remarkably straight direction in which this curious channel trends. At both extremities the width may be from two to three miles; but the shores gradually approach each other midway, and the coast on each side rises abruptly to the height of fifteen hundred feet. The south shore, sheltered from the prevailing and strongest winds, is thickly covered with trees and luxuriant underwood, which, being chiefly evergreen, improve the scenery greatly, particularly in the winter season: the north shore is also well wooded for about two-thirds up; but the summit is barren and the outline very much serrated, as is usual in slate formations.

On the north shore we noticed some extraordinary effects of the whirlwinds which so frequently occur in Tierra del Fuego. The crews of sealing vessels call them 'williwaws,' or 'hurricane-squalls,' and they are most violent. The south-west gales, which blow upon the coast with extreme fury, are pent up and impeded in passing over the high lands; when, increasing in power, they rush violently over the edges of precipices, expand, as it were, and descending perpendicularly, destroy every thing moveable. The surface of the water, when struck by these gusts, is so agitated, as to be covered with foam, which is taken up by them, and flies before their fury until dispersed in vapour. Ships at anchor under high land are sometimes suddenly thrown over on their beam-ends, and the next moment recover their equilibrium, as if nothing had occurred. Again a squall strikes them, perhaps on the other side, and over they heel before its rage: the cable becomes strained, and checks the ship with a jerk, that causes her to start a-head through the water, until again stopped by the cable, or driven astern by another gust of wind.

At all these anchorages, under high land, there are some parts more exposed than others; and by watching for those places which are least troubled by these squalls, a more secure, or rather a more quiet, spot may be selected. I do not consider ships so anchored to be in danger if their ground tackle be good; but every thing that offers a stiff resistance must suffer from the fury of these blasts. In many parts of this country trees are torn up by the roots, or rent asunder by the wind; and in the Gabriel Channel the 'williwaws' bursting over the mountainous ridge, which forms the south side of the channel, descend, and striking against the base of the opposite shore, rush up the steep, and carry all before them. I know of nothing to which I can better compare the bared track left by one of these squalls than to a bad broad road. After having made such an opening, the wind frequently sweeping through prevents the growth of vegetation. Confused masses of up-rooted trees lie at the lower ends of these bared tracks, and show plainly what power has been exerted.

The southern shore of the channel is formed by the base of that range of hills, which extends, from the eastern side of the Magdalen Channel, towards the E.S.E. It is the highest part of Tierra del Fuego, and on it are several remarkable mountains, besides Sarmiento, towering over all.

Close to the east end of the Gabriel Channel is Mount Buckland, a tall obelisk-like hill, terminating in a sharp needle-point, and lifting its head above a chaotic mass of 'reliquiæ diluvianæ,' covered with perpetual snow, by the melting of which an enormous glacier on the leeward, or north-eastern side, has been gradually formed. This icy domain is twelve or fourteen miles long, and extends from near the end of the channel to Port Waterfall, feeding, in the intermediate space, many magnificent cascades, which, for number and height, are not perhaps to be exceeded in an equal space of any part of the world. Within an extent of nine or ten miles, there are upwards of a hundred and fifty waterfalls, dashing into the channel from a height of fifteen hundred, or two thousand feet. The course of many is concealed, at first, by intervening trees, and, when half-way down the descent, they burst upon the view, leaping, as it were, out of the wood. Some unite as they fall, and together are precipitated into the sea, in a cloud of foam; so varied, indeed, are the forms of these cascades, and so great their contrast with the dark foliage of the trees, which thickly cover the sides of the mountain, that it is impossible adequately to describe the scene. I have met with nothing exceeding the picturesque grandeur of this part of the Strait.

There are several coves on the south shore, but opposite to them there is no shelter until you reach a deep bay in which are several islets; and where, I think, there is a communication with Brenton Sound, but we did not enter it.

Port Waterfall may easily be known by a large flat-topped bare rock, lying across the summit of the eastern head, and by a magnificent cascade formed by the union of two torrents.

All the plants of the Strait grow here: a sweet-scented Callixene (C. marginata, Lam^k.) filled the air with its odour; and a beautiful flower we had not previously seen, was found by Mr. Graves: it was pendulous, tubular, about two inches long (Class. Hexand. Monog. Cal. 2 Pet. 3. pointed), and of a rich carnation colour.

The trees are small and stunted; they are of the usual species, Beech and Winter's-bark. Here we first noticed a large fern,48 having a stem two or three feet long, and five or six inches in diameter, very similar to the Zamia of New Holland. We saw very few birds, and no quadrupeds. Among the former was a king-fisher, which at the time was new to us; but it is distributed over a large tract of South America, and I have since seen a specimen said to have been shot at Rio de Janeiro.

Fitton Harbour is a deep inlet, surrounded on all sides by precipitous land, rising to the height of three, or four thousand feet, and terminated by peaks, of most fantastic shape, covered with ice and snow.

Between Fitton Harbour and Cape Rowlett are high mountains, two of which, more conspicuous than the rest, we called 'Mount Sherrard,' and 'Curious Peak.'

Card Point proved to be clay-slate, and I think the projection of Cape Rowlett, and the mountains, are also of this rock.

While crossing over towards Cape Rowlett, (the south head of a deep sound, trending to the S.E., which it was my intention to examine), we were met by three canoes, containing, together, about twenty-four people, and ten or twelve dogs. Mr. Wickham recognised them to be the same party who had visited the Hope on her last cruize; the thief, however, was not amongst them, fearing probably he might be known.

These natives conducted themselves very quietly, and, except one of the women, who wished to keep a tin-pot in which some water had been given her, made no attempt to pilfer. One of the party, who seemed more than half an idiot, spit in my face; but as it was not apparently done angrily, and he was reproved by his companions, his uncourteous conduct was forgiven.

If possessed of any furs, they had left them, perhaps concealed, near their wigwams: only a few arrows, a necklace of shells, and a fillet for the head, made of ostrich feathers, were obtained by barter. Their canoes were paddled by the women, occasionally helped by the men. One or two of the former were young, and well-featured, but the rest were hideous; and all were filthy and most disagreeable, from the quantity of seal-oil and blubber, with which they had covered their bodies. After we had obtained, by barter, all the articles they had to dispose of, I presented them with red caps and medals, of which they were very proud: the latter they requested might have a hole drilled through them, that they might be suspended by a string round their necks. Their astonishment was much excited, and they were pleased by hearing a watch tick; but I believe I had very nearly, though unintentionally; given great offence, by cutting off a lock of hair, from the head of one of the men. Assuming a grave look, he very carefully wrapped the hair up, and handed it to a woman in the canoe, who, as carefully, stowed it away in a basket, in which she kept her beads and paint: the man then turned round, requesting me, very seriously, to put away the scissors, and my compliance restored him to good-humour.

The features of these people bore a great resemblance to those of the Patagonian Indians, but in person they were considerably shorter and smaller. The elderly people of both sexes had hideous figures; the children, however, and young men, were well-formed; particularly one of the boys, whom they called 'Yāl-lă-bă,' which, I believe, meant a youth, or a young warrior. The word 'Shērrōo' was used to denote a canoe, or vessel.

They were ill-clothed, with mantles made of guanaco, or otter skins, but not so neatly as those of the Patagonians. Their bodies were smeared over with a mixture of earth, charcoal, or red-ocre, and seal-oil; which, combined with the filth of their persons, produced a most offensive smell. Some were partially painted with a white argillaceous earth; others were blackened with charcoal; one of the men was daubed all over with a white pigment. Their hair was bound by a fillet of plaited twine, made perhaps with strips of bark, and a few of them had it turned up; but to none did it appear to be an object of attention, except one of the young women, who repeatedly combed and arranged her's with the well-toothed jaw of a porpoise.

During a remarkably calm night, we were frequently startled by the loud blowing of whales, between us and the shore. We had noticed several of those monsters on the previous day, but had never heard them blow in so still a place.

At dawn, a light air carried us towards some broken land to the S.E. of Cape Rowlett, between the eastern trend of which, and the projecting point of an island, we found a secure and land-locked harbour, with two entrances, one to the north and the other to the south of High Islet. The south side of the port, which I called Port Cooke,49 is a narrow strip of land, forming the head of a deep inlet or sound, called50 Brook Harbour. It seemed to extend to the base of the high mountainous range, and to be separated only by a narrow isthmus from Fitton Harbour.

We had scarcely been at anchor half an hour when the same party of Fuegians was seen arriving. The men hastened to us in their canoes, as soon as the women had landed, to cover or thatch the wigwams, which they found standing, and to light fires.

We afterwards went ashore, and, sitting down near them, commenced a brisk trade for arrows, skins, necklaces, and other commodities. The furs which covered their backs they parted with, for a few beads, and went quite naked the whole evening.

Among them was a young man, who appeared to be treated with some deference by the others; he was one of the best-looking of the party; and there was a good-natured smile on his countenance during our communication, while the rest frequently manifested displeasure, even about trifles. He was, at least, the master of one of the two families; his wigwam contained his wife, and two children, his, or his wife's father, and mother, as well as the idiot, and his wife, who, from her appearance, must have been a Patagonian, or else a woman of unusual size among these people. The old woman was very inquisitive, and the man, in a long speech, described to her all the wonders I had shown him, applying to me, from time to time, to point out to her the articles he was trying to describe.

Their dexterity with the sling is extraordinary; and, I should think, when used as a weapon of offence, it must be very formidable. Upon asking the same man to show us its use, he picked up a pebble, about the size of a pigeon's egg, and placed it in the sling; then intimating that he was going to strike a canoe, he turned his back to the mark, and threw the stone in an opposite direction, against the trunk of a tree, whence it rebounded over his head, and fell close to the canoe.

I have seen them strike a cap, placed upon the stump of a tree, fifty or sixty yards off, with a stone from a sling. In using the bow and arrow, also, with which they kill birds, they are very dexterous. The spear is principally for striking porpoises and seals, but is also used in war; and from the nature of the barb, must be an efficient weapon. For close quarters, they use clubs, stones held in the hand, and short wooden daggers, pointed with very sharp-edged quartz, pitch-stone, or flint.

The next morning, seeing us underweigh, they came alongside and tried to induce us to anchor again. The young man, of whom I have spoken, was very importunate, and at last offered us his wife, as a bribe, who used all her fancied allurements to second his proposal.

So highly did they esteem beads and buttons, that a few of each would have purchased the canoe, the wife, and children, their dogs, and all the furniture. Seeing us proceed to the southward, with the apparent intention of sailing down the inlet, they motioned to us to go to the north, repeatedly calling out 'Sherroo, sherroo,' and pointing to the northward; which we thought intimated that there was no passage in the direction we were taking.

At noon, I landed to observe the latitude, and take bearings down the Sound to the S.E., at the bottom of which was a hill, standing by itself, as it were, in mid-channel. The view certainly excited hopes of its being a channel; and as we had begun to calculate upon reaching Nassau Bay in a few days, we named this hill, Mount Hope.

The point on which we landed was at the foot of a high snow-capped hill, called by us Mount Seymour; whence, had not the Indians been near, I should have taken bearings.

We sailed south-eastward, close to the south shore, until the evening; when from the summit of some hills, about three hundred feet above the sea, we had a view down the Sound, which almost convinced us it would prove to be a channel. The rock at this place differed from any we had seen in the Strait. The mountains are high, and evidently of clay-slate; but the point, near which we anchored, is a mass of hard, and very quartzose sand-stone, much resembling the old red sand-stone formation of Europe, and precisely like the rock of Goulburn Island, on the north coast of New Holland.51

The following morning (23d), we proceeded towards Mount Hope, while running down to which some squalls passed over, clouding the south shore, and as we passed Parry Harbour it bore so much the appearance of a channel, that we stood into it; but the clouds clearing away soon exposed the bottom to our view, where there seemed to be two arms or inlets. In the south-eastern arm, the shores were covered with thick ice (like the bottom of Ainsworth Harbour, to the west of Parry Harbour, where an immense glacier slopes down to the water's edge). The south-west arm appeared to be well sheltered, and if it affords a moderate depth of water, would be an excellent harbour.

After satisfying ourselves that there was no channel here, we bore up on our original course; but, before long, found ourselves within two miles of the bottom of the Sound; which is shallow, and appears to receive two rivers. The great quantity of ice water, which mingles here with the sea, changed its colour to so pale a blue, that we thought ourselves in fresh water.

Mount Hope proved to be an isolated mass of hills, lying like the rest N.W. and S.E., having low land to the southward, over which nothing was visible except one hill, thirty or forty miles distant, covered with snow, to which the rays of the sun gave the appearance of a sheet of gold. Finding ourselves embayed, we hastened out of the scrape, and, after beating for some hours, anchored in Parry Harbour.

Our entrance into a little cove in Parry Harbour disturbed a quantity of ducks, steamers, shags, and geese. Their numbers showed that Indians had not lately visited it.

Next day we reached Ainsworth Harbour, which is of the same character as Parry Harbour, and affords perfect security for small vessels: by dint of sweeping, we reached a secure anchorage in a cove at the south-east corner.

The bottom of the port is formed, as I before said, by an immense glacier, from which, during the night, large masses broke off and fell into the sea with a loud crash,52 thus explaining the nocturnal noises we had often heard at Port Famine, and which at the time were thought to arise from the eruption of volcanoes. Such were also, probably, the sounds heard by the Spanish officers during their exploration of the Straits, whilst in the port of Santa Monica, where they had taken refuge from a violent gale of wind.53

The harbour was full of fragments of ice, the succeeding morning, drifting into the Sound, where the sea-water, being at a higher temperature than the air, rapidly melted them.

Since our departure from Port Waterfall, the weather had been mild, clear, and settled; but as it wanted only three days of the change of the moon, at which period, as well as at the full, it always blew a gale, I wished to reach a place of security in the Gabriel Channel or Magdalen Sound.

Near the islands of Ainsworth Harbour, three canoes passed us, steering across the Sound, each with a seal-skin fixed up in the bow for a sail; and we recognised in them the party left at Port Cooke, among whom was the Indian who had been detected in stealing a tin pot. They did not come along-side; but as we went by, pointed to the north, apparently urging us to go in that direction.

We had noticed several wigwams at Parry and Ainsworth Harbours, which shows that they are much frequented by Indians, perhaps on their way to the open low country east of Mount Hope, where numerous herds of guanacoes may be found.

Porpoises and seal were not scarce in this inlet, and in the entrance there were many whales. The presence of seal and whales made me think it probable there was a channel; but I believe every person with me was satisfied of its being a sound, terminating under Mount Hope. Since my later experience of the deceptive character of some passages in Tierra del Fuego (the Barbara Channel, for example), I have felt less certain that there may not be a communication with the low land, behind Mount Hope, round its northern base. The improbability was, however, so great, – from the bottom of the sound being shoal, – from the very slight tide-stream, – and from the information of the Natives; who evidently intended to tell us we could not get out to sea, – that we did not consider it worth while to make another examination.

I have before observed that the strata of the slate rocks, in the Strait, dip to the S.E.; and I found that they dip similarly all the way to the bottom of this inlet, which I named Admiralty Sound.

The north side, like that of the Gabriel Channel, is steep, without indentations, excepting where there is a break in the hills; but on the south shore there are many coves, and bights, the cause of which is shown in the accompanying imaginary section of the Gabriel Channel. The same cause operates on the outline of the north shore of the reach of Cape Froward, westward as far as Cape Holland, where the rock assumes a still more primitive form. Its general character, however, is micaceous slate, with broad veins of quartz; the latter being particularly conspicuous at Port Gallant.

The following slight sketch, intended to represent an imaginary section of such an opening as the Gabriel Channel, may also serve to give a general idea of many Fuegian anchorages; – of deep water passages existing between the almost innumerable islands of Tierra del Fuego; – and of the effects of those sudden, and violent gusts of wind, – so frequent and dangerous, – commonly called hurricane-squalls,54 or williwaws.

The rock, of course, decomposes equally on both sides; but on that exposed to the south wind, it breaks off in flakes parallel to the direction of the strata, and therefore does not make the course of the beach more irregular; while on the other side it moulders away transversely to the direction of the dip, leaving holes, in which water lodges, and hastens decomposition by entering deeply into the interstices. Water, air, and frost decompose the rock, and form a soil, which, if not too much exposed to the wind, is soon occupied by vegetation.

The rugged faces of the cliffs, on the southern shore, caused by the rock decomposing across the grain, collect sand and mud; and hence it happens that anchorages are frequently found on one side, whilst, on the other, the anchor will not hold, from the steepness of the ground; there being nothing upon the smooth declivity to retain mud and sand before it gets to the bottom; which, in most cases known to me, lies far beyond the reach of the anchor.

After a tedious and difficult passage through the Gabriel Channel, we anchored in a snug harbour within the entrance of Magdalen Channel, on the west side, under a peaked hill called by Sarmiento 'El Vernal,' – in our plan, the 'Sugar-loaf.' The entrance is about a quarter of a mile wide; but after a few hundred yards the harbour opens, extending in for nearly a mile. It is of easy depth; seven fathoms in the entrance, and four, five, and six fathoms within; so that it is very convenient for a small vessel: to us, indeed, it was a most welcome discovery. The land rises, around this cove, to the height of two or three thousand feet. It is covered with Beech, and Winter's-bark, and near the water is adorned with large groves of Fuchsia, Berberis, and the common shrubs of Port Famine, growing so thickly as to form an almost impenetrable jungle; but, notwithstanding the picturesque character of its scenery, the towering height of the hills, which exclude the sun's rays for the whole day, during the greater portion of the year, renders it a gloomy and melancholy spot.55

We found a family of Fuegians in the inner harbour. Three canoes were hauled up on the beach, but their owners were not at first visible. At last, after our repeatedly calling out 'Ho-say, ho-say,' they appeared, and, rather reluctantly, invited us, by signs, to land. There seemed to be fourteen or fifteen people, and seven or eight dogs. Mr. Wickham and Mr. Tarn went on shore to these natives, who exhibited some timidity, until a hideous old woman began to chatter, and soon made them understand that the young men (Lā-ā-pas) were absent on a hunting excursion, but were every moment expected to return. There were only three men with the women and children. To inspire them with confidence in our good intentions, Mr. Wickham gave each man a red cap, and some other trifles. One of them complained of being sick, but I rather imagine his illness was feigned, and the others did not at all seem to like our visit. By degrees their fears subsided, and, restraint being laid aside, an active trade began; in which several otter skins, shell-necklaces, spears, and other trifles, were obtained from them in exchange for beads, buttons, medals, &c. The otters are caught by the help of dogs, on which account, principally, the latter are so valuable.

These people were slightly clothed with skins of the seal and otter, but some had pieces of guanaco mantles over their shoulders, whence we supposed that they were either of the same tribe, or at peace, with the Indians of Admiralty Sound: unless, indeed, they trade with the Patagonian Indians; but such is the poverty of the Fuegians, they can scarcely possess any thing of value sufficient to exchange with the goods of their northern neighbours, unless it be iron pyrites, which I think is not found in the open country inhabited by the Patagonian Indians, and, from the facility with which it yields sparks of fire, must be an object of importance.

We were not a little amused by the surprise which these natives showed at the things in our possession, and by the effect produced in their countenances when they saw any thing extraordinary: the expression was not that of joy or surprise, but a sort of vacant, stupified, stare at each other. They must have been very suspicious of our intentions, or very much excited by what they had seen during the day, as throughout the night an incessant chattering of voices was heard on shore, interrupted only by the barking of their dogs.

Looking down the Magdalen Inlet, we saw two openings, which, while the hills were enveloped in mist, had the appearance of being channels. We proceeded for some distance into the more westerly of the two, but found that it was merely a sound, terminated by high land. The boat was then steered under a steep mass of black mountainous land,56 the summit of which is divided into three peaks, which Sarmiento called 'El Pan de Azucar de los Boquerones' (the Sugar-loaf of the Openings). We ran southward, fifteen miles down this sound, and reached the Labyrinth Islands; but finding there no suitable anchorage, resumed our course towards the bottom of what we thought another sound, terminated by mountains. At noon, the furthest point, on the west shore, which we called Cape Turn, was within three miles of us, and we should soon have discovered the continuation of the channel (as it has since been proved); but a breeze set in from the S.W., and in a short time it blew so strong as to oblige us to turn back. 'Williwaws' and baffling eddy winds kept us seven hours under Mount Boqueron. These squalls were at first alarming, but by taking in all sail, before they passed, we sustained no injury. At sunset we were abreast of Hope Harbour, in which we purposed taking shelter from the gale. Our late neighbours, the Indians, had lighted a fire at the entrance to invite our return; but wind and tide were against us, and as we knew of no port to leeward, our only resource was to run out of the sound. Furious squalls carried us into the true, or steady, wind, which we found very strong; and as Port San Antonio was on the lee-bow, we had to carry such a press of sail, that our excellent boat had nearly half the lee side of her deck under water. By daylight we got into smooth water, and, with less wind and better weather, steered for Port Famine. The smoother water enabled us to light a fire and cook a meal, not an unimportant affair, as we had eaten nothing since six o'clock on the preceding morning.

In our absence Mr. Graves had surveyed Lomas Bay, and, after his return, Mr. Ainsworth had crossed the Strait with the gig and cutter to survey Port San Antonio. They were victualled for five days; the gig was manned by my own boat's crew, and the cutter by volunteers: but although they had not come back, we felt no anxiety about their safety, being assured that Mr. Ainsworth would not run the risk of crossing the Strait during bad weather. The tempestuous state of the two following days, however, made us uneasy, and on the third morning, when the wind moderated much, we looked out anxiously for their arrival. In the evening the cutter returned; but, alas! with the melancholy information of the loss of Mr. Ainsworth, and two seamen, drowned by the upsetting of the gig. One of the latter was my excellent coxswain, John Corkhill. The remainder of the gig's crew were only rescued from drowning by the strenuous exertions of those in the cutter.

Mr. Ainsworth, anxious to return to the ship, thought too little of the difficulty and danger of crossing the Strait during unsettled weather. He set out from Port San Antonio under sail, and, while sheltered by the land, did very well; but as soon as they got into the offing, both wind and sea increased so much that the gig was in great danger, although under only a small close-reefed sail.

The people in the cutter were anxiously watching her labouring movements, when she disappeared! They hastened to the spot – saved three men; but the other two had gone down. Poor Ainsworth was still clinging to the gig's gunwale when his shipmates eagerly approached; but letting go his hold from extreme exhaustion, and being heavily clothed, he sunk from their sight to rise no more.

He had been cheering the drowning crew, and trying to save his companions, till the moment his grasp relaxed. Just before Ainsworth himself let go, Mr. Hodgskin lost his hold, exclaiming, Ainsworth, save me! when, exhausted as he was, with one hand he rescued his friend, and, directly afterwards, his strength failing, sunk.

This addition of three people to the already loaded cutter, made her cargo more than was safe, therefore Mr. Williams, who commanded her, very prudently bore up for the first convenient landing-place, and happily succeeded in reaching the only part of the beach, between Lomas Bay and Cape Valentyn, where a boat could land.

The following morning, the weather being more favourable, they crossed under sail to Freshwater Bay, and thence pulled to Port Famine.

This melancholy disaster was much felt by every one. Ainsworth was a deserving officer, and highly esteemed. Corkhill was captain of the forecastle, and had served in the Polar voyages under Sir Edward Parry. On the Sunday following, the colours were hoisted half-mast high, and the funeral service was read after morning prayers: for although to recover the bodies was impossible, their watery grave was before our eyes; and the performance of this last sad duty was a melancholy satisfaction.

A tablet was subsequently erected, on Point St. Anna, to record this fatal accident.