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CHAPTER IV.

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We left Rio for Magellan’s Straits. On the way our ship encountered a tornado: one moment everything was as if we were in a blaze of fire, and the next in utter darkness. As I stood clinging to the mizzen-mast the ship would make a fearful plunge as if she never could rise again, but would seek the bottom of the ocean. The next day a most woful disappointment awaited my friend the doctor and I, for on entering the surgery to enjoy a glass of wine every jar was smashed, and the wine well mixed up on the floor with countless drugs.

We now entered the cold, dreary, and inhospitable Straits of Magellan, observing some old wrecks as we steamed along, and, passing the Chilean penal station, anchored in a cove near a Chilean brig of war. The strong head wind and adverse current detained us here a short time. Using this opportunity, I called on the Chilean officers, and heard from them how that the convicts had risen a short time previously and roasted the Governor of the penal settlement, and how the brig had been there to hunt them up; catching some, and others escaping.

One day I made a trip up the adjoining mountains, that rise abruptly on each side of the Straits, to get a good view. Pulling myself up to a ledge a terrific growl met my ears, and a fierce looking animal, about as big as a wolf, stood within six feet of my face. One hurried look was enough, and down I went that mountain with much greater speed than I had ascended it. A few natives were there camped in a miserable hut—small, wretched, filthy, and frightfully ugly creatures, quite nude, with the exception of a small piece of the skin of some animal over their shoulders. I tried to talk with them, but could make nothing of their signs. They kept pointing to my cap which, as my others had been blown overboard, was the last one I had—an old uniform cap of the Yorkville cavalry (of which I had been one of the officers)—of which some of the silver lace was visible, the oil-cloth covering being slightly displaced. I took it off to show it them, and my attention being drawn away for a few seconds I could see nothing more of it, though a figure was to be seen running up the beach of the cove. I immediately gave chase, and on nearing the little figure, into the water, only about three feet deep, it dashed, and I after it, as I saw my cap. I thus overtook the runaway, vowing fierce vengeance, and catching hold of the long coarse hair and my cap, was about to administer a sound flogging, when the captive proved to be a woman, so giving her a few plunges under the water, which might have washed off a little of her filth, we waded amicably ashore, she grinning as if in enjoyment of the sport.

The ship now made a start and steamed away until 4 p.m., but could make no anchorage, so the captain turned about, and in an hour’s time we were again at our old anchorage. Matters now became a little serious, as both fuel and provisions were not over plentiful, and the captain thought if the strong wind lasted he must go back and round the “Horn.” But fortunately the wind went down on the next day and we entered the Pacific, only to meet another gale, which, together with a strong southerly current, swept us along the coast of Terra del Fuego (the land of fires). That night as I stood alongside the captain for some hours, holding on to the mizzen-mast, it seemed as though I should see the last of our steamer Hermann and her crew and passengers. The bleak rocky cliffs were in very close proximity to the vessel’s stern, and with all the steam we could put on we could not move ahead an inch, but fortunately the wind fell, and we got off and had a pleasant run along the coast of Chile to Coronel and Lota, where we stopped to coal and get a few supplies.

The Rocks and Rivers of British Columbia

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