We wandered about to examine the country; but, excepting the track of some quadruped, whose foot was small and cloven, rather like a pig's, we saw nothing new. The traces of foxes were numerous every where. We found no fish of any description in the river. Geese and wild ducks were numerous, whose young were at this time scarcely fledged, and an easy prey. We also observed here, for the first time, the parroquet, which Bougainville described to be common in the Strait. He carried specimens home with him; but some naturalists of those days decided that there must have been a mistake, because, as they averred, parroquets did not exist in so high a latitude. Bougainville, however, made no mistake, for the species39 is very abundant in the neighbourhood of Port Famine, and has been seen by us in all parts of the Strait. It feeds principally upon the seeds of the Winter's-bark. The existence of this bird in Tierra del Fuego is also mentioned by Cook and Narborough.40
All accounts of Port Famine informed us of its abounding in fish, but as yet we had taken none excepting with hook and line, although the seine had been frequently shot. At last, however, in the first week of February, we had a successful haul of mullet and smelts, many of the former weighing eight pounds, and the latter measuring fifteen inches in length. After this we were often very fortunate, and on one occasion caught, at one haul of the seine, sixteen hundred-weight of smelts, some weighing two pounds, and measuring twenty inches in length. A few days previously we had a draught of mullet, which served the crews of both Adventure and Beagle for three days. Geese, wild ducks and teal, snipe, and now and then woodcocks, were to be found by taking a short walk; there were, however, no quadrupeds fit for food which we could take. Foxes and wild cats were occasionally seen, and a foot-mark of some large animal of the feline race, probably a puma, was once observed upon the beach. We found many traces of horses, which showed that the Patagonian Indians sometimes come thus far south. Had we been so fortunate as to meet them here, we might have procured, perhaps, a regular supply of guanaco meat.
On the 9th of February, as the weather seemed favourable for ascending Mount Tarn,41 Lieutenant Cooke, the Surgeon, and Anderson, the botanical collector, set off in advance to select a convenient place for passing the night, carrying with them a tent and provisions. I followed later in the day, and, while the boat's crew were arranging their loads, made some observations with a barometer on the beach.
Our way led through thick underwood, and then, with a gradual ascent, among fallen trees, covered with so thick a coating of moss, that at every step we sunk up to the knees before firm footing could be found. It was very laborious work, and the ground being saturated, and each tree dripping with moisture, we were soon wet through. We proceeded along the same sort of road up a steep ascent; some one of the party constantly falling into deep holes covered by moss, or stumbling over fallen trunks of trees. As I carried a barometer I was obliged to proceed with caution, and succeeded in emerging from this jungle without accident. After about three quarters of an hour spent in this way, we reached an open space, where we rested, and I set up the barometer. Here we found a cypress of very stunted growth.
Our road hence was rather more varied: always steep, but sometimes free from impediment. Here and there we observed the boggy soil was faced with a small plant (Chamitis sp.) of a harsh character, growing so thick and close as to form large tufts, over which we walked as on hard ground. We struggled through several thickets of stunted beech-trees, with a thick jungle of Berberis underneath, whose strong and sharp thorns penetrated our clothes at every step; and began to find the fatigue very oppressive: some of my boat's crew suffered much, being unused to such exercise. At last we approached the place where Mr. Cooke and his party had established themselves, and upon hailing, were invigorated by a cheer in reply. We reached the bivouac in a very way-worn condition, and found, to our great comfort, the tent pitched, and a good fire burning.42
The ground was so exceedingly wet, that although we slept upon branches, forming a layer at least a foot thick, we found ourselves, in the night, lying as if in a morass, and suffering from cold, even with a large fire blazing at our feet. At daylight next morning, just as we were starting, a boat was seen sailing round Cape San Isidro, which, by the aid of a telescope, I made out to be the Hope.
We resumed the ascent, and passed over, rather than through, thickets of the crumply-leaved beech, which, from their exposure to the prevailing winds, rose no higher than twelve or fourteen inches from the ground, with widely-spreading branches, so closely interwoven, as to form a platform that bore our weight in walking. We next traversed an extent of table-land,43 much intersected by ponds of water. Mr. Tarn shot two plovers of a new species (Charadrius rubecola, Zool. Jour. vol. iv. p. 96), and a snipe. We then ascended three or four hundred feet, and crossed a deep ravine. The bottom of the ravine was clay-slate in a decomposing state, but the surface of the ground was strewed with pebbles of granite. Another plain, with many ponds, succeeded; the intervening spaces being covered with tufts of chamitis, and studded here and there with small clusters of dwarf beech; but the ground was so hard, and firm, that we proceeded rapidly, without fatigue, until we attained the height of 1,800 feet, when the ascent became very steep. Near the summit lay a large mass of snow, rapidly melting away. We reached the highest pinnacle of the mount at seven o'clock (having left our resting-place at four), and immediately set up the instruments. I was obliged to avail myself of Mr. Tarn's assistance to hold the barometer, whilst two of my boat's crew held the legs of the theodolite-stand, for the wind was blowing very strongly, and the edge of a precipice was close to us, perpendicular for many hundred feet, and thence downwards so steep, that any body going over would fall at least a thousand feet. The theodolite-stand was unavoidably placed within a very few inches of the edge, and I took a round of angles, suffering, however, intense pain from the piercing coldness of the wind, which, heated as we were by the ascent, was much felt, though the temperature was not lower than 39°. I was lightly clothed, and should have fared badly, had not one of the party lent me his Flushing jacket, while he descended under the lee of the mountain-top to make a fire. The barometer stood at 26,618, the temperature of the air being 40°, and of the mercury 43°.44 Unfortunately the day was very cloudy, and many squalls of sleet and rain, which obscured the hills, passed whilst I was taking bearings. To the N.E., towards the supposed Sebastian Channel, the horizon was too hazy to allow much view. A deep inlet was seen in that direction; but whether the land closed round, or whether a channel was at the bottom, we could not distinguish. A considerable body of water was observed to the southward of Cape St. Valentyn, behind Lomas Bay, but its extent was screened from our view by the intervention of the Lomas hills. It appeared to be a channel, the opposite or eastern side of it being formed by the high ranges previously seen from Point St. Mary. Cordova's Ports San Antonio and Valdez were distinctly made out; but, to the southward, every thing was enveloped in mist.
The bearings and observations, which occupied me nearly two hours, being completed, we all adjourned to a sheltered cleft in the rock close to our station, where we soon recovered the use of our fingers.45
Having