Chapter XVI

Soundings--Anchor in Santa Cruz--Lay Beagle ashore for repair
--Prepare to ascend river--Set out--View of surrounding country
--Rapid stream--Cold--Ostriches--Guanacoes--Indians--Fish--Cliffs
--Firewood--Lava Cliffs--Difficulties--Chalia--See Andes--Farthest
West--View round--Return--Danger--Guanaco hunters--Puma--Cat
--Tides--Sail from Santa Cruz.

In working to the westward from Berkeley Sound to the River Santa Cruz, we sounded frequently, and found that the depth is nowhere much above one hundred fathoms between those places. But the water is not of so little depth between the Falklands and Cape Virgins, or Tierra del Fuego; for there we could not strike soundings in some places, towards the islands, with one hundred and fifty fathoms of line.

On the 13th we anchored in the Santa Cruz, and immediately prepared to lay our vessel ashore for a tide, to ascertain how much injury had been caused by the rock at Port Desire, and to examine the copper previous to her employment in the Pacific Ocean, where worms soon eat their way through unprotected planks. (16th.) When on the beach, at a place we afterwards called ‘Keel Point,’ it was found that a piece of the false keel under the ‘fore-foot,’ had been knocked off, and that a few sheets of copper were a good deal rubbed. By Mr. May’s exertions all was repaired in one tide; and the following day we were making preparations for an excursion up the river.

17th. An examination, or rather a partial exploring, of the River Santa Cruz had long been meditated. During the former voyage of the Beagle, Captain Stokes had ascended the rapid current as far as a heavy boat could be taken; but his account served only to stimulate our curiosity, and decided my following his example.

Three light boats were prepared (whale-boats strengthened): as much provision as they could stow with safety was put into them, and a party of officers and men selected. Lieut. Sulivan, having to take charge of the ship during our absence, could not go; neither could Mr. Stewart, or Mr. King, who were required to attend to duties on board; but Mr. Darwin, Mr. Chaffers, Mr. Stokes, Mr. Bynoe, Mr. Mellersh, Mr. Martens, and eighteen seamen and marines prepared to accompany me.

DISTANT CORDILLERA OF THE ANDES.

C. Martens. T. Landseer.

BEAGLE LAID ASHORE, RIVER SANTA CRUZ.

Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838.]

Early on the 18th we left the Beagle, and with a favouring wind and flood tide sailed up the estuary, into which the river flows. This wide and turbid estuary receives a torrent which rushes through a confined opening into the ocean, during seven hours, and is opposed and driven back by the flood tide during about five hours of the twelve. On each side of both the estuary and river lie extensive plains of arid desert land: these plains are not, however, on the same level; for, on the northern bank the land is very little raised above the level of high spring tides; while, on the southern side of the river, high, perpendicular cliffs form a striking contrast: but after ascending these heights, by any of the ravines which intersect them, one finds a dead level expanse, similar in every respect to that on the northern shore. In the horizon, another ‘steppe,’ or parallel plain, at a higher elevation, is seen: which, at a distance, appears like a range of hills of equal height.

Excepting in the porphyry districts, all the eastern coasts of Patagonia, and the little of the interior which I have seen, seemed to me to be a similar succession of horizontal ranges of level land varying in height, intersected here and there by ravines and water-courses. There are, certainly, hills in many places which appear when one is passing at sea, or in the distance, conical, or at all events peaked; but even those hills are but the gable ends, as it were, of narrow horizontal ridges of land, higher than the surrounding country.

The cliffs on the south side of the river have a whitish appearance; and are similar to those on the outer coast, which were said by Sir John Narborough to resemble the coast of Kent. Their upper outline, when seen from a distance, is quite horizontal. Brownish yellow is the prevailing colour, lighter or darker, as the sun shines more, or becomes obscured. Here and there, in hollow places and ravines, a few shrubby bushes are seen. But over the wide desolation of the stony barren waste not a tree--not even a solitary ‘ombu’[1]--can be discerned. Scattered herds of ever-wary guanacoes, startled at man’s approach, neighing, stamping, and tossing their elegant heads; a few ostriches striding along in the distant horizon, and here and there a solitary condor soaring in the sky, are the only objects which attract the eye. Certainly, upon looking closely, some withered shrubs and a yellow kind of herbage may be discerned; and, in walking, thorns and prickles assure one painfully that the plain is not actually a desert: but I am quite sure that the general impression upon the mind is that of utter hopeless sterility. Is it not remarkable that water-worn shingle stones, and diluvial accumulations, compose the greater portion of these plains? On how vast a scale, and of what duration must have been the action of those waters which smoothed the shingle stones now buried in the deserts of Patagonia.

Fresh water is seldom found in these wastes; salinas[2] are numerous. The climate is delightful to the bodily sensations; but for productions of the earth, it is almost as bad as any, except that of the Arabian, or African deserts. Rain is seldom known during three quarters of the year; and even in the three winter months, when it may be expected, but little falls excepting on rare occasions, when it comes down heavily for two or three days in succession. Sea winds sometimes bring small misty rain for a few hours, at any time of year, but not enough to do good to vegetable productions. The only animals which abound are guanacoes, and they care little for fresh water, for they have often been seen drinking at the salinas. The puma probably quenches its thirst in their blood; of other animals, supposed to require much liquid, there are none in these regions.

The climate is healthy and pleasant; generally a bright, sunny day is succeeded by a cloudless and extremely clear night. In summer the heat is scorching, but not sultry; and in winter, though the weather is sometimes searchingly cold, especially during southerly winds, the air is always elastic and wholesome. Changes of wind are sudden, and cause rapid, though not very great, variations of temperature. Sometimes the sky is slightly or partially overcast, occasionally clouded heavily; but on most days there is bright sunshine, and a fresh or strong westerly wind.

_MOUTH OF THE_
RIVER SANTA CRUZ
Surveyed by the Officers of
_H.M.S. Beagle._

Port Santa Cruz (_Keel Point_) Lat. 50°. 6′. 45. S.
Long. 68. 24. 0. W.
Var. 20. 54. E.
H. M.
H.W. 9. 45.
Spring Rise 42 feet.
Neap Rise 18.
Strength of tide 3 to 6 Knots.

Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838.]

The confluence of a continental torrent of fresh water, with great tides of the ocean, which here rise forty feet perpendicularly, has embarrassed the mouth of the Santa Cruz with a number of banks. They are all composed of shingle and mud, and alter their forms and positions when affected by river-floods, or by the heavy seas caused by south-east gales.

Into the entrance of the Santa Cruz, the flood-tide sets about four knots an hour; one may say, from two to five knots, according to the time of tide, and the narrower or broader part of the opening; and outwards, the water rushes at least six knots on an average in mid-channel. There are places in which at times, when acted upon by wind or unusual floods, it runs with a velocity of not less than seven or eight knots an hour--perhaps even more; but near either shore, and in bights between projecting points, of course the strength of the outward as well as inward current is very inferior.

In such a bight, almost under some high cliffs on the southern shore, the Beagle was moored, and it is easy to conceive the different views presented in this situation, with forty feet change in the level of the water. At high water, a noble river, unimpeded, moves quietly, or is scarcely in motion: at other times, a rushing torrent struggles amongst numerous banks, whose dark colour and dismal appearance add to the effect of the turbid yellow water, and naked-looking, black, muddy shores.

The boats sailed on between some of the banks, with a fresh southerly wind, disturbing every where immense flights of sea-birds. Now and then a monstrous sea-lion lifted his unwieldy bulk a few inches from the stony bank, lazily looked around, and with a snort and a growl, threw his huge shapelessness, by a floundering waddle, towards the nearest water.

As far as Weddell’s Bluff[3] we sailed merrily; but there took to the oars, because the river makes a sudden turn, or rather, the river Santa Cruz (properly so called), enters the estuary of the same name from the south-west, as far as can be seen from Weddell’s Bluff:--but a little beyond where the eye reaches, it takes a westerly direction. Another river, the Chico of Viedma, also enters the estuary at this place from the north-west. Here, a little above the Bluff, the water was fresh on the surface, and sometimes it is quite fresh, even into the estuary; but in filling casks, or dipping any thing into the stream for fresh water, it is advisable not to dip deep, or to let the hose (if one is used), go many inches below the surface, since it often happens that the upper water is quite fresh, while that underneath is salt. This occurs, more or less, in all rivers which empty themselves into the sea: the fresh water, specifically lighter, is always uppermost.

Wind failing us entirely, we pulled to the south-west. On our left, high cliffs still continued, and at their base a wide shingle beach offered tempting landing-places, with many spots extremely well adapted for laying a vessel ashore, to be repaired or cleaned; on our right, a low shore extended, rising gradually, however, in the north-west,[4] to cliffs like those near Keel Point.

The flowing tide favoured us until about five, when we landed on the north shore, at a spot where the rise and fall of the tide had diminished to four feet. Here the river was six hundred and forty yards in breadth, running down at the rate of about six knots during a part of the ebb, and from two to four knots an hour during the greater part of the flood-tide. It was perfectly fresh to the bottom, and in mid-channel about three fathoms deep; but this depth extended very little way across, the deep channel being extremely narrow, not more than twenty yards in width.

The distinct difference between the opposite banks of the river had been diminishing, until at this spot[5] both sides were much alike. We had left the cliffs and salt water, and had fairly entered the fresh-water river. Instead of having a wide extent of dismal-looking banks and dark-coloured muddy shores, we were at the side of a rapid stream, unvarying in width, on whose banks shrubs and grass agreeably relieved our eyes from muddy shingle covered with hosts of crabs.

Our first night passed well, for there were plenty of bushes to supply us with fire-wood. Early next morning, some of the party went upon the nearest hills to look for guanacoes, when they saw that although the surface of the country appeared to an observer near the river to be irregular and hilly, upon ascending the heights it became apparent that the stream ran in a large valley; that the general character of the country was similar to what I have already described, and that those which had appeared to be hills were the terminating sides of extensive plains, whose level was about three hundred feet above the river. Near the fresh water, shrubs, bushes, and grass were not scarce; but every where on the higher ground a sterile, stony waste met the eye. Mr. Stokes[6] and I went on the heights, to obtain a view of the river; and for a considerable distance we could trace its windings, but were sorry to see a great number of small islands, thickly covered with brushwood, which seemed likely to impede our progress if obliged to track[7] the boats.

The southerly wind blew keenly over the high land, and the surface of the ground was frozen hard; but the air was healthily fresh and bracing. Where, indeed, could it be purer than on these dry hills? At first setting out we tried the oars, but very soon found them unable to contend with the strength of the stream; so landing all our party, except two in each boat, we made the boats fast to one another, at a few yards apart, in a line a-head: and then taking the end of a coil of whale-line ashore, half our party fixed themselves to it by laniards of broad canvas straps, which passed across their breasts and over one shoulder, and walked together steadily along the river’s bank. The bight of the line was passed round a stout mast, stepped in the headmost boat and attended by the two men, who veered away or shortened in the line as the varying width of the stream, or frequent impediments rendered necessary. In this manner, one-half of our party relieving the other about once an hour, every one willingly taking his turn at the track rope,[8] we made steady progress against the stream of the river, which rather increased in rapidity as we ascended, until its usual velocity was between six and seven knots an hour. While among the islands which I mentioned tracking was difficult and tedious, many were the thorny bushes through which one half of the party on the rope dragged their companions. Once in motion no mercy was shewn: if the leading man could pass, all the rest were bound to follow. Many were the duckings, and not trifling the wear and tear of clothes, shoes, and skin. At intervals stoppages were made for refreshment and observations.

Three chronometers were carried in the boats, with other necessary instruments: among them two mountain barometers, with which Mr. Darwin and myself wished to measure the height of the river above the level of the sea, and the heights of the neighbouring ranges of hills above the level of the river. This afternoon we picked up a boat-hook upon the south bank of the river, which was immediately recognized to be one which had been left by accident sticking in a mud-bank, by the party who accompanied Captain Stokes in his excursion up this river in the year 1827.

It was very cold at our bivouac this night, being a sharp frost: and while observing the moon’s meridian altitude, dew was deposited so fast upon the roof of the artificial horizon, and froze there so quickly as it fell, that I could hardly make the observation. My sextant was injured a little by the frost, for not having been used before in very cold weather, the brass contracted so much as to injure the silvering at the back of the index glass, and slightly change the index error.

In the morning it was so cold that our usual ablutions were shunned, and all were anxious to have the first spell at the rope in order to warm themselves, though few had slept many minutes, and many had hard work the previous day. The thermometer was at 22° Fahr.--nothing,--indeed warm weather to Polar voyagers, but to us, accustomed to temperate climates, it appeared a severe degree of cold.

20th. As we were going along the bank of the river, which to our great benefit was becoming more accessible and clearer of bushes, we saw some dark coloured animals crossing the stream at a distance, but no one could guess what they were until the foremost of them reached the shore, and rising upon his stilt-like legs, showed himself to be an ostrich. Six or seven of these birds were swimming across: till then I had no idea that so long-legged a bird, not web-footed, would, of its own accord, take to the water and cross a rapid stream: this, however, was a certain proof to the contrary, for nothing had disturbed them that we could discern. As far as we could tell, at so great a distance, they seemed to be of the kind which the Spanish-patagonians call ‘Avestruz-petis.’ They were, however, far too wild to be approached with a gun. We saw smoke at a distance and anticipated meeting Indians, in the course of our next day’s journey. The country around continued similar to that already described: but islands no longer impeded our progress, though some high cliffy banks gave us trouble. At the next place where we passed a night, Mr. Darwin tried to catch fish with a casting net, but without success; so strong a stream being much against successful fishing. A very sharp frost again this night. The net and other things, which had occupied but little room in the boat, were frozen so hard as to become unmanageable and very difficult to stow.

21st. We proceeded as usual, dragging the boats up the stream (or rather torrent, for it never ran less than six knots, and in many places more) at the rate of about two miles an hour: and as we were approaching near to the smoke, we chose our position for the night, rather more cautiously than usual, upon a little peninsula.

22d. We had not advanced a mile this morning, when fresh tracks of Indians, on horseback, trailing their long lances, aroused our utmost vigilance. We thought they had been reconnoitring our party, at day-light, and perhaps such was the case. The smoke of their fires was seen behind the nearest range of low hills, on our side of the river, being then on the north bank, but the boats had been tracking on either side, as better ground for walking was found. Proceeding on, a dead animal was found in the water, which proved to be a guanaco; how it came by its death did not appear, as it showed no external wound, but some of our party, hungrier or less squeamish than the rest, immediately proposed dividing and eating it; and hunger carried the day: the dead animal was hauled on shore, cut to pieces, and distributed. The guanaco steaks were much relished by all except two or three, who could not conquer their antipathy to supposed carrion. Our meal was eaten close to the place where we thought a tribe of Indians was encamped: and, in consequence, our arms were kept in readiness, and a careful watch set. Afterwards cautiously proceeding, we arrived at the spot whence the smoke had issued, but saw no human beings: though marks of very recent fire, and numerous tracks of feet upon a soft muddy place at the side of the river, showed that a party of Indians had lately crossed over, and a smoke rising at some distance on the southern shore, pointed out where they were gone. At this spot there was about an acre of good pasture land, by the water side: and the breadth of the river itself was something less than usual, reasons which had induced the natives to select it as a crossing place.[9] To pass a river running at the rate of six or seven miles an hour, and about two hundred yards in width, can be no easy task to women and children. But as we saw many prints of very small feet on the muddy bank, both women and children must have crossed at this place with the men. How did they get over? there is no wood, neither are there rushes with which they might make balsas.[10] Perhaps some of the women and children were put into rough, coracle-like boats, made of hides,[11] and towed across by the horses, holding by whose tails the men swam and perhaps many of the women. This method of holding by the tail, while swimming, is said to be better than resting a hand upon the horse’s neck and holding by the mane. None of the Indians sit upon their horses while swimming.

This day (22d) we passed two places which we considered rapids, the stream of the river ran so violently, and we had so much difficulty in passing, even with all hands upon the rope. Besides the strength of the stream we had to contend against high cliffs, over whose upper edges it was difficult to convey the tow-line: yet we made good about twelve miles in the day. The night of the 22d was not so cold as the preceding, but we always found the nights wintry though the days were warm, so much so, indeed, that we were often annoyed by the heat of the sun. So winding was the course of the river that we certainly walked double the distance which was advanced in a direct line: yet very little of interest, as a picturesque subject, had been seen; for no country excepting a desert could wear a more triste and unvarying appearance.

Immense accumulations of shingle, rounded stones, imbedded, as before mentioned, in diluvial deposition, form the level plain, or valley, through which the river pursues its very winding course. The width of this vale varies from one mile to five miles, and the level of the shingle plain is from three hundred to one thousand feet below that of the adjacent higher, but still horizontal ranges--whose broken-down ends, or sides, form the boundaries of the valley through which the river flows. Those of the higher ranges look like hills when one is in the valley, and it is not until after ascending to their summits that their real nature is seen; when, instead of being inclined to consider those heights as hills, one becomes disposed to think the valley of the river a vast excavation, cut down below the level of the neighbouring country. But on the height, or in the valley, all is an unprofitable waste. Scarcely, indeed, could we find bushes enough, even near the river, to make our nightly fires, after the third day’s journey. The wiry, half-withered grass upon which the guanacoes feed is so scanty, that they are obliged to wander over much ground in search of their food. Those few stunted bushy trees which are found here and there, near the river, are a kind of thorn trees, the wood of which is extremely hard and durable.[12] The night of the 22d we passed by the side of a little cove, which sheltered the boats from the strength of the stream: and, as all hands were tired, we rested during the morning of the following day.

After noon (23d) we went on, and at dark stopped on the south shore. Scarcity of fuel and a cold night, made it necessary to take good care of the wood when cut. There may be honour among thieves, but there was little to be found during a cold night among our party, for the fire of those who happened to be on watch was sure to blaze cheerily, at the expense of the sleepers. A little incident occurred here very unimportant certainly to those unconcerned, yet of much consequence to us: we left our stock of salt behind, and a spade, which latter was much wanted for earthing up the sides of our tents, to keep out the cold wind.

24th. I noticed more than usual a curious effect of the river water being so much warmer than the air over it.[13] At daybreak, and until after sunrise, the river was smoking, quite as if it were boiling. This day we passed some earthy cliffs between two and three hundred feet in height, and where they came in our way it was extremely difficult to manage the boats and tow-lines; but by veering out at those times a great length of rope, our object was accomplished without any disaster. Near these cliffs the valley of the river begins to contract and become more irregular, and the sides or breaking down of the higher ranges become more abrupt and are nearer to the river. In most places we found a cliffy side opposite to a low projecting point of shingle, but in some spots that we passed both sides were high, and we had no choice on which to take the tow-line. The difference, also, between the level of the higher ranges and that of the river, was observed to be much increased.

On this day (25th) our best shots succeeded in killing two guanacoes, but they died out of our reach, and probably became food for pumas, instead of man. The order of our march was usually one or two riflemen in advance, as scouts--Mr. Darwin, and occasionally Mr. Stokes, or Mr. Bynoe, upon the heights--a party walking along the banks, near the boats, ready to relieve or assist in tracking, and the eight or ten men who were dragging the three boats along at the rate of about two miles an hour over the ground, though full eight knots through the water. Difficult places to pass--delays caused by embarking and disembarking frequently to change banks, and avoid impediments--the necessary observations, rest, and meals, occupied so much time that we did not average more than twelve miles in one day: and even that small distance was not accomplished without making both shoulders and feet sore.

26th. In the distance some very level topped, dark looking cliffs, were seen at the summits of elevated ranges, which Mr. Darwin thought must have a capping or coating of lava. Of course we were very anxious to verify a fact so curious, and at noon were quite satisfied that it was so, having approached to the foot of a height thus capped, whose fragments had in falling not only scattered themselves over the adjacent plain, but into the bed of the river, in such a manner as to make the passage exceedingly dangerous; because large angular masses, in some places showing above the stream in others hidden beneath, but so near the surface that the water eddied and swelled over them, menaced destruction to the boats as they were with difficulty dragged through the eddying rapid; sometimes the rope caught under or around one of those masses, and caused much trouble. Near the spot where we stopped at noon there is a glen, quite different in character from any place we had passed.[14] Indeed, upon entering the lava district, or that part of the country over which lava formerly flowed, there was no longer a Patagonian aspect around. Steep precipices, narrow, winding vallies, abundance of huge angular fragments of lava, a more rapid and narrower river, and plains of solid lava overlying the whole surface of the country, make this district even worse in its appearance than the eastern coast of Patagonia. Excepting in an occasional ravine nothing grows, Horses could not travel far, the ground being like rough iron; and water, excepting that of the river and its tributary in Basalt Glen, is very scarce.

The glen above mentioned is a wild looking ravine, bounded by black lava cliffs. A stream of excellent water winds through it amongst the long grass, and a kind of jungle at the bottom. Lions or rather pumas shelter in it, as the recently torn remains of guanacoes showed us. Condors inhabit the basaltic cliffs. Near the river some imperfect columns of basalt give to a remarkable rocky height, the semblance of an old castle. Altogether it is a scene of wild loneliness quite fit to be the breeding place of lions.[15]

No signs of human visitors were discovered: indeed, the nature of the country must almost prevent horsemen from traversing these regions, there is so little food and such bad ground: only in glens or ravines such as this can any grass or bushes be found. Guanacoes absolutely swarm upon the heights, a consequence probably of their being undisturbed. They spread over the face of the high country like immense flocks of sheep.

C. Martens. T. Landseer.

BASALT GLEN--RIVER SANTA CRUZ.

Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838.]

During a long walk this evening Mr. Stokes and I were repeatedly disappointed by the mirage over an extensive stony plain, between two bends of the river. We were tired and very thirsty, and went from one apparent piece of water to another, only to be tantalized and to increase still more our dilemma.

27th. Similar country. On the banks of the river some drift wood was found; the trunks of trees of considerable size. Small trees had been found lying by the side of the river, from time to time, but none so large as these, some of which were almost two feet in diameter, and about thirty feet in length. The wood appeared to be ‘Sauci,’ of the red kind. That these trees had been drifted from a great distance was evident, because they were much water-worn.

28th. In passing a rapid, whose difficulties were much increased by rugged blocks of lava lying in the bed of the river, one of our boats was badly stove and barely rescued from sinking in the middle of the stream: fortunately we got her on shore and there patched her up. There was still no change in the scenery, nor any signs of inhabitants: and our work was as monotonous as heavy.

29th. While upon a high range of lava-capped land, Mr. Stokes and Mr. Darwin descried distant mountains in the west, covered with snow. At last, then, the Andes were in sight! This was inspiriting intelligence to the whole party; for small had been our daily progress, though continual and severe the labour. The river increased in rapidity, while but little diminution had taken place in the quantity of water brought down: the breadth was rather less, certainly, but the depth in most places greater. No fish had yet been caught; indeed, only two had been seen, and those seemed to be like trout.

30th. The snowy summits of the distant Cordillera were more distinctly seen from the heights, near the river, that rise about a thousand feet above its level, which, there, is about three hundred feet above that of the sea. Two guanacoes were shot with my rifle by H. Fuller,[16] who hastened to the boats for assistance. Some of our party went directly with him to bring in the animals, but condors and cara-caras[17] had eaten every morsel of the flesh of one; though the other was found untouched and brought to the boats. Four hours had sufficed to the cara-caras and condors for the cleaning of every bone.[18] When our party reached the spot some of those great birds were so heavily laden that they could hardly hop away from the place. The guanaco that was eaten by the birds must have been, by his size, at least fifty pounds heavier than any shot by us in Patagonia, therefore about 300lbs. Mr. Darwin and Mr. Stokes had much amusement with these animals, upon the heights. Being so much tamer there and more numerous, whole flocks were driven by them into narrow defiles, where dozens might have been killed had there been more people with guns, lassoes, or balls.

Though the bed of the river is there so much below the level of the stratum of lava,[19] it still bears the appearance of having worn away its channel, by the continual action of running water. The surface of the lava may be considered as the natural level of the country, since, when upon it, a plain, which seems to the eye horizontal, extends in every direction. How wonderful must that immense volcanic action have been which spread liquid lava over the surface of such a vast tract of country. Did the lava flow from the Cordillera of the Andes, or was it thrown out from craters in the low country? Its position with respect to subaqueous deposits, its horizontal surface and cellular texture, are reasons, among others, for thinking that it was thrown out of the earth, while these plains were covered by a depth of sea.

The valley, or channel of the river, varies here from one mile, or less, to about three miles; but it looks narrower, owing to the deception caused by high land on each side. Some of the views are certainly striking, and, from their locality, interesting; I could not, however, have believed that the banks of any large fresh water river could be so destitute of wood, or verdure of any kind, or so little frequented by man, beast,[20] bird, or fish.

_C. Martens._ _S. Bull._

SANTA CRUZ RIVER, AND DISTANT VIEW OF THE ANDES.

Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838.]

May 1st. The weather was invariably fine during the earlier part of our journey; but this day it began to change, and two or three gloomy clouded days were succeeded by a few hours only of small rain, and by some strong wind. This night (1st) we slept at the foot of heights whose summits were covered with snow, but the temperature was many degrees warmer than that of the first nights, when it froze so sharply. There was no particular frost after the 21st of April.

We had great difficulty with the boats on the 2d, the river being contracted in width, without any diminution of the body of water pouring down.

On the 3d, we found a more open country, the lava-capped heights receding gradually on each side, leaving a vale of flat, and apparently good land, from five to fifteen miles in extent. The width of the river increased; on its banks were swampy spaces, covered with herbage; and low earthy cliffs, without either shingle or lava, in some places bounded the river. A little further, however, the usual arid and stony plains of Patagonia were again seen, extending from the banks of the river to ranges of hills, about fourteen hundred feet above its level, on which the horizontal lava-capping could be distinctly discerned.

In the distant west the Cordillera of the Andes stretched along the horizon. During three days, we had advanced towards those far distant mountains, seeing them at times very distinctly; yet this morning our distance seemed nearly as great as on the day we first saw their snow-covered summits. A long day’s work carried us beyond the flat and into the rising country, whose barren appearance I just now mentioned. We were all very tired of the monotonous scene, as well as of the labour of hauling the boats along.

4th. Our provisions being almost exhausted, and the river as large as it was beyond the lava country, our allotted time being out, and every one weary and foot-sore, I decided upon walking overland to the westward, as far as we could go in one day, and then setting out on our return to the Beagle. I was the more inclined to this step, because the river here made a southerly bend, to follow which would have required at least a day, without making much westing, and because I thought that some of our party might walk in that time at least twice as far as they could track the boats, and then return before night. To have followed the course of the river two days longer, we should have needed all the small remainder of our provisions, and probably without being enabled to see further than we might by one day’s walk directly westward. Leaving those who were the most tired to take care of the boats, a party set out early, in light marching order. A large plain lay before us, over which shrubs, very small trees, and bushes were sparingly scattered; yet parts of this plain might be called fertile and woody, by comparison with the tracts between us and the eastern sea-coast.

At noon we halted on a rising ground, made observations for time, latitude, and bearing; rested and eat our meal; on a spot which we found to be only sixty miles from the nearest water of the Pacific Ocean. The Cordillera of the Andes extended along the western side of our view; the weather was very clear, enabling us to discern snow-covered mountains far in the north, and also a long way southward; hence much of the range was visible, but of the river we could discern nothing. Only from the form of the land could we conclude that at the end of the southerly reach I have mentioned, the direction of the river is nearly east and west for a few miles, and that then it may turn northward, or rather come from the north along the base of the Cordillera.

There are many reasons for inducing one to suppose that it comes not only from the north, but from a considerable distance northward. At the place where we ceased to ascend the stream, the Santa Cruz was almost as large as at the places where we passed the first and second nights near the estuary. The velocity of the current was still at least six knots an hour; though the depth remained undiminished. The temperature of the water was 45°, while that of the air was seldom so high, even in the day-time, and at night was usually below the freezing point. Trees, or rather the trunks of trees, were found lying upon the banks, whose water-worn appearance indicated that they had been carried far by the stream. The water was very free from sediment, though of a whitish blue colour, which induces me to suppose that it has been chiefly produced by melted snow, or that it has passed through lakes in which the sediment it might have brought so far was deposited. If filled from the waters of the nearer mountains only, its temperature would surely be lower, approaching that of melted snow: it would also, in all probability, bring much sediment, and would therefore be muddier, and less pure in colour.

_C. Martens._ _S. Bull._

CORDILLERA OF THE ANDES, AS SEEN FROM MYSTERY PLAIN, NEAR THE SANTA CRUZ.

Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838.]

When one considers how large an extent of country there is between the River Negro and the Strait of Magalhaens, and that through that extensive region only one river of magnitude flows, it may be difficult to account for the manner in which the drainage of the eastern side of the great Cordillera is carried off, or where the melted snow and occasional heavy rains disappear.

The Gallegos is small, though it runs into a large estuary. The Chupat river is very small: that at Port Desire is scarcely more than a brook. At times, it is true, these smaller rivers are flooded, but their floods (added to their usual streams) seem unequal to carrying off the continual drainage of the Andes. South of the Negro only the Santa Cruz flows with a full and strong stream throughout the whole year, and my idea is that the sources of the river Santa Cruz are not far from those of the southern branch of the Negro, near the forty-fifth degree of latitude; and that it runs at the foot of the Andes, southward, through several lakes, until it turns to the eastward in the parallel of fifty degrees.

In Viedma’s Diary I find that he heard from the Indians at Port San Julian (in 1782) that the river Santa Cruz flowed from a large lake near the Cordillera of the Andes, and that there was abundance of wood on its banks. In consequence of this information, he went, in November, with a party of Spaniards and Indians on horseback, to explore this lake. In his way, Viedma crossed the river Chico, which flows into the estuary of the Santa Cruz, just above Weddell Bluff. The Chico, though small at times and then fordable, was subject, the Indians said, to great floods in the spring, when the melting snows of the Cordillera over-filled a lake, far in the north-west, whence this river ran. Afterwards, Viedma crossed the river Chalia, which they told him rose in another lake near the Cordillera, was likewise subject to floods, and emptied itself into the Santa Cruz: when he passed, it was only up to the horses’ knees (after searching many leagues, however, for a ford), but at his return it was deeper. This Chalia can be no other than the stream which flows through Basalt Glen, a mere brook when we saw it in the dryest season of the year. Viedma reached the lake,[21] and found every thing correspond to the description; for it was deep and large, surrounded by snow-covered mountains, on which were many forests.

Some persons have doubted whether there is ever much drainage to be carried off from the eastern side of the Andes, between the parallels of forty and fifty; but if they will take the trouble to read Viedma’s Diary, and some other notices to be found in the work of Don Pedro de Angelis, I think they will be convinced that there is always a considerable drainage, and that at times there are heavy floods to be carried off.[22]

Reference to the accompanying plan will shew our position when we halted, and I decided to return, not having explored, I should think, more than one-third of its course. At that place the level of the river was found to be four hundred feet higher than that of the sea at the entrance; and as the distance is about two hundred miles,[23] the average descent or fall of the water must be near two feet in a mile, which, I apprehend, is unusually great. I could not, indeed, believe that the computation and data were correct, until after repeated examination.[24] Two barometers were used at the river-side, and a very good one was carefully watched on board the Beagle.[25] Certainly, the rapid descent of the river, in many places, was such, that even to the eye it appeared to be running down-hill; and this remark was often made in the course of our journey.

Two days before we reached our westernmost point, many traces of an old Indian encampment were seen; but excepting at that place and at the spot which we passed on the 22d, no signs of inhabitants were any where found. Scarcity of pasture, and the badness of the ground for their horses’ feet, must deter Indians from remaining in this neighbourhood; but that they frequently cross the river, when travelling, is well known.

The quantities of bones heaped together, or scattered near the river, in so many places which we passed, excited conjectures as to what had collected them. Do guanacoes approach the river to drink when they are dying? or are the bones remains of animals eaten by lions or by Indians? or are they washed together by floods? Certain it is they are remarkably numerous near the banks of the river; but not so elsewhere.

I can hardly think that the guanaco is often allowed to die a natural death; for pumas are always on the alert to seize invalid stragglers from the herd. At night the guanacoes choose the clearest places for sleeping, lying down together like sheep; and in the day they avoid thickets, and all such places as might shelter their ever-watchful enemy. Condors, also, and fierce little wild cats[26] help to prevent too great an increase of this beautiful, inoffensive, and useful animal.

Late on the 4th we returned to our tents, thoroughly tired by a daily succession of hard work, and long walks. At this bivouac we were about one hundred and forty miles, in a straight line, from the estuary of Santa Cruz, or from Weddell Bluff; and about two hundred and forty-five miles distant by the course of the river. Our station at noon on the 4th, was eight miles in a straight line farther westward, and about thirty miles from the Cordillera of the Andes. The height of those mountains was from five to seven thousand feet above our level, by angular measurement with a theodolite. Early on the 5th we began the rapid descent. Sometimes the wind favoured, and we passed the land at the rate of ten knots an hour; sometimes dangerous places obliged us to turn the boat’s head to the stream, pull against it, and so drop down between the rocks. Though easy, the return was far more dangerous than our ascent of the river.

5th. Our first day’s work in returning was a distance of eighty-five miles, which had cost us six days hard labour in ascending. Next day we made good about eighty-two miles; and on the 7th we reached the salt water. Although we made such quick progress in returning, our halts for observations were similar to those made in going. While descending the rapid stream, so quickly and quietly, we saw many more guanacoes and ostriches than we had seen before; but our flying shots only frightened them, and time was too precious to admit of any delay. Only one fish was got, and that was a dead one, which had been left on the bank: it was similar to a trout. Not more than half a dozen live fish were seen, and none could be caught either with hooks or nets. Leaving a very small party near Weddell Bluff to look for guanacoes, I hastened on board with the boats; and with the ebb tide reached the Beagle before noon on the 8th. The ship being ready for sea, excepting a ton or two of fresh water, the yawl and cutter were dispatched to get it and bring on board the shooting party. During my absence satisfactory observations on the tides had been made, which showed that the neap tides rise about eighteen feet, and the springs from thirty-eight to forty-two feet. One day when walking through a woody ravine, not far from the anchorage, Mr. Stewart saw a puma lying under a bush, glaring at him: taking a steady aim, he fired, and laid the animal dead. It was a very large one; and the skin is now in the British Museum. The moment of thus looking a lion in the face, while taking aim, at only a few yards distance, must be somewhat trying to the nerves, I should imagine. A beautiful wild cat was also added to our collections, besides condors and foxes.

9th. The boats, and shooting party, arrived with water and two guanacoes. As the sportsmen were returning with their burthens on the preceding evening, darkness overtook them while yet distant from their tent; and they were soon made uncomfortably[27] conscious that an enemy was at hand, for the strong and peculiar smell of a lion warned them that one was near. They trudged on with their cargoes, talking to one another; but the scent was still strong until they approached the fire, which had been kept up by their companion, when it ceased entirely. Such a weight as a lion’s, added suddenly to that of a guanaco, would have been rather distressing.

We were detained for a day or two by an overcast sky, which prevented my obtaining equal altitudes; but on the 12th the Beagle left the Santa Cruz, and stood towards the alleged place of the shoal, or rock, called ‘Aigle,’ not far from the westernmost of the Falkland Islands. No such danger, nor any sign of shallow water being found, but, on the contrary, no bottom with one hundred fathoms of line, we steered towards Magalhaens Strait, and on the 18th anchored off Cape Virgins. Next morning I landed on the Cape, taking Mr. Darwin and Mr. Stokes with me, and remained till after the noon observation, when, returning on board, the Beagle weighed and sailed to another station. From this time (till the 25th) we were busily employed in sounding in the neighbourhood of Cape Virgins, Point Catherine, Lomas Bay, and Possession Bay.

On the 23d, at day-light, we saw the Adventure coming from the Falklands. After communicating with us, she went on to survey the portion of coast extending from Sweepstakes Foreland to Cape Monmouth; and we remained to complete our own task of sounding the banks about the First Narrow, and examining the south shore of St. Philip Bay. On the 3d of June both vessels were moored in Port Famine, preparing for their passage to San Carlos in Chilóe.

* * * * *

The next chapter will take the Beagle into the Pacific by a
route not hitherto used, except by sealing vessels: although it
possesses many advantages over either the passage round Cape
Horn, or that through the western reaches of the Strait of
Magalhaens. Mr. Low is said to be the first discoverer of it, and
he certainly was the first to pass through in a ship; but I think
one of the Saxe Cobourg’s boats had passed through it previously,
and I much question whether Sir Francis Drake’s shallop did not
go by that opening into the Strait of Magalhaens in 1578.[28]

Before I finally leave Tierra del Fuego, a remark or two may here
be made respecting the language of the natives. ‘Pichi,’ in the
Huilli-che or Araucanian language, means ‘small’ or ‘a little,’
and ‘re’ signifies ‘only,’ ‘but,’ ‘purely,’ or ‘simply.’ Hence,
Pecheray, always uttered in a begging, or whining tone, may have
some such signification. In Beauchesne’s voyage it is said, that
the natives in the Eastern parts of Magalhaens Strait were called
‘Laguedi-che,’ and those westward, ‘Haveguedi-che.’[29] These
words are to me very interesting, because I suppose the first to
be a corruption of Laque-che, which means, in Araucanian, ‘People
with balls’ (bolas), and the second is not far removed from
Huapi-gulu-che, which means ‘people of mountainous islands heaped
together,’ terms respectively most appropriate for natives of
eastern and western Tierra del Fuego.

C. Martens. T. Landseer.

MOUNT SARMIENTO.

(FROM WARP BAY)

Published by Henry Colburn, Great Marlborough Street, 1838.]

FOOTNOTES:

[1] A kind of elder, growing here and there in Patagonia and the Pampas. See page 93.

[2] Salt depositions or incrustations.

[3] Named after the enterprizing southern navigator.

[4] On the south side of the north-west arm of the Santa Cruz.

[5] The northern bight, or cove, a few miles north-eastward of Islet Reach.

[6] It was his office to make a map of the country we passed through.

[7] Pull, or tow them along by a rope.

[8] Mr. Stokes alone being excepted, as his duty required continual attention.

[9] Marked ‘Indian Pass’ on the plan.

[10] Floats or rafts.

[11] “Me envió tres indios nadadores, provisto de cueros y palos para formar una pelota.” (Diario de Viedma, p. 58.)

[12] A guanaco was shot this day by the running fire of several guns. He was soon cut up and stowed in the boats.

[13] The temperature of the air being 30°, that of the water 46°.

[14] ‘Basalt Glen.’

[15] “Leonum arida nutrix.”

[16] My steward.

[17] A carrion-eating eagle.

[18] The animal thus eaten lay on high ground: the other was in a hollow.

[19] From ten to twelve hundred feet.

[20] Excepting guanacoes.

[21] Called Capar, or Viedma. MS. Chart.

[22] As one proof of this assertion, I may quote a passage from Viedma:--“Reconocido pues todo” (all that there was to see in the neighbourhood of the lake whence the Santa Cruz flowed), “nos expusó el Indio Patricio nos debiamos apartar luego de aquí, porque con los vientos fuertes, y el sol, solia derretirse tanta nieve que era imposible vadear los arroyos para regresar, y tendriamos que pasar el verano en aquel pasage hasta que las heladas empezasen.”--(Diario de Viedma, p. 57.)

[23] Following the course of the river.

[24] The data will be found in the Appendix.

[25] At the level of the sea.

[26] Though the wild cat could not injure a full-grown animal, it might destroy a young one with great ease.

[27] Being only two in number.

[28] See Burney, vol. i. p. 368 and p. 327, where he shows that Drake discovered Cape Horn, and anchored near it (in or near St. Martin Cove?) in 1578. Another early southern discovery is mentioned in vol. ii. p. 198, where it is stated that Dirck Gherritz discovered land in 64°. S. in 1599, (part of or near South Shetland?)

[29] Voyage of Beauchesne, in Burney’s History, vol. iv. p. 378.