Chapter XX

Challenger sails--Sounds off Mocha--Wrecked on the mainland--Crew
saved--Stores landed--Camp formed--Great exertions, and excellent
conduct--Mr. Consul Rouse--Leübu--Plague of mice--Curious rats
--Return to Blonde--Ulpu--Araucanian dress--Arauco--‘Boroanos’
--Tubul--Bar rivers--Apples--Ferry--Blonde sails--Seek for the
Leübu--Schooner Carmen--Errors and delay--Embark Challenger’s crew
--Rescue the Carmen--Talcahuano--New Concepcion--Valparaiso
--Coquimbo--Challenger’s sail in Conway--Reflections.

The Challenger sailed from Rio de Janeiro on the 3d of April 1835: she had much bad weather off Cape Horn, which lengthened her passage considerably.

On the 18th and 19th of May, strong north-west winds, with thick weather and heavy rain, prevented observations being taken; except a few for time only. The ship was approaching the land, and her position estimated by dead reckoning from the last observations.

At five P.M. on the 19th, the Challenger hove-to, bent cables, unstowed the anchors, and sounded, but no bottom was found with two hundred and ten fathoms of line. This sounding was taken as a matter of form rather than utility, for no one supposed that the ship could be less than fifty miles from a steep coast, off which soundings extend a very little way. At this time, she was really about twelve miles from Mocha, which bore from S.E. to S. The weather was clear overhead, but too hazy near the horizon to see land, or any object distant more than four or five miles. Mocha is high, bold land, which in clear weather may be seen at thirty, forty, or even fifty miles distance; but soundings are no guide in its neighbourhood. They are irregular, and indeed not to be got, except very near the land.

A course was shaped for passing Santa Maria, and approaching the entrance of Concepcion Bay; and with a strong wind from W.N.W., the ship ran eight or nine knots an hour, under treble-reefed topsails, courses, and jib, steering N.b.E. until eight o’clock, when it was thought prudent to haul to the wind until daylight. By many on board even this step was deemed unnecessary caution. Captain Seymour proposed putting her head to the south-west till daylight; but the master felt so confident of the ship’s place, and so much disliked the idea of losing both time and ground, that his opinion was preferred, and her head was kept to the northward. About nine, or soon after that time, the Challenger was lying from N. to N. ½ E., going about four knots, under the sail before-mentioned. The wind had moderated; but a thick haze surrounded the ship, though the sky overhead was clear.

Captain Seymour had been walking the deck for some time, and had only just gone to his cabin, when a change in the appearance[1] of the water alongside, and an unusual motion of the ship, startled the officer of the watch, and induced him to order the ‘helm’ down and ‘about ship,’ while a midshipman was sent to tell the captain there was a suspicious alteration in the water. Just then breakers were seen by the look-out men and by the officer of the watch at the same moment; and as the captain flew up the ladder, (the ship coming round) he saw her position, and gave the order, ‘mainsail haul,’ as she was rising to a heavy rolling breaker. The after-yards swung round, but while bracing them up, she struck heavily; then ‘hauling the head-yards,’ and bracing up, she seemed to ‘gather way’;--the foam alongside, from the recoiling waves, probably deceiving their eyes. A high breaking sea struck her bows--and astern upon the rocks, a helpless wreck, the proud Challenger was dashed.[2] Again, a great roller approached, threatening to overwhelm her; but it broke short, and only drenched her fore and aft with force sufficient to wash men overboard. While bracing-up, the topmen had been ordered aloft to shake the reefs out, and readily they went, without a moment’s hesitation. They were, however, quickly recalled--a few moments sufficing to show that saving lives was all that could be attempted. Each succeeding sea drove the ship’s stern higher than the bow[3] upon the shore, and along shore withal, inside some rocks, which partly deadened the fury of the great south-west swell, that rolls in directly against this part of the coast. That the sea did not break at first upon the hull of the vessel, and drive every thing before it, is accounted for by her position--with the bow to seaward--and by the defence afforded by a large rock near her bow which received the first shock of each wave.

Heavily the ship continued to beat upon the shore, reeling from side to side as seas struck her, yet her masts, though tottering at every shock, did not fall; nor did her strong hull yield to the continual striking, until hours had passed. Then, indeed, the rising of the tanks and contents of the hold showed that her frame had given way, and that the well-built Challenger would never float again. There was scarcely any wind; but the roar of the breakers and the clouds of spray would have almost stupified the crew, had not life been at stake. No land could be discerned till after the moon had risen--no one could even conjecture where the ship had struck, excepting only the master, who thought they must be on the Dormido shoal, off the island of Santa Maria. The purser collected the ship’s papers, and saw them headed up in a water-tight cask: each person endeavoured to secure some valuable:--till daylight came further preparation would have availed nothing.

The captain was asked to cut away the masts; but he refused to let more than the mizen-mast be touched, because their weight, after the first few seas, steadied the ship, as she lay over, and prevented her rolling to seaward with the recoiling waves. When she first struck, he was asked to let go the anchors; another request which he wisely refused, rightly judging that having struck, anchoring could not improve their condition, but might prevent their drifting past the rocks and nearer to the shore; both anchors, however, were kept in readiness, in case the water astern should deepen, which might have happened had they struck upon an isolated shoal, like the Dormido.

Soon after the moon rose, at about two in the morning, land was seen astern of the ship, not far distant. It seemed to be rather extensive, though not high; and as there was no longer any doubt of their having struck upon the mainland, better hopes of saving life relieved the torturing, anxious suspense they had hitherto endured. Daylight shewed them the shore on which they were. Near the ship lay an extensive sandy beach, and beyond it, gradually rising in the interior, a thickly wooded country appeared to reach to distant mountains. The mizen-mast was then used to form part of a raft; the jolly-boat was lowered over the stern; and in her Mr. A. Booth (mate), after a long struggle, reached the shore, with the end of the deep-sea lead-line. Mr. Gordon (midshipman), next tried to land in another boat, to assist in hauling a rope ashore, but the boat was upset, rolled over and over, and Mr. Gordon and one of the men were drowned. The other man was saved. Mr. Gordon was one of the most active and able young men of his age, and very much esteemed by all his shipmates.[4] His fellow-sufferer, John Edwards, was one of the best men in the ship.

A stream of tide or current, setting two or three knots an hour, along the shore, much increased the difficulty of reaching it, or of assisting those who were making the perilous attempt. Meanwhile, each succeeding heave of the sea forced the ship higher upon the sandy beach, and rendered the situation of those on board less critical.

The men who reached the land safely, hauled stouter ropes ashore with a line; rafts were then made; the large boats got overboard; the sick landed, and a party was sent ashore to protect them. A few Indians appeared at a distance, whose approach, with numbers of their countrymen, was a serious evil in prospect.

Before much had been done in landing stores, a great many Indians and some creole natives had assembled. Nearly all came on horseback, and many assisted in hauling the rafts ashore, or helping the people to land. Even the Indian women rode into the furious surf, and with their lassoes helped very materially: some took the boys up behind their saddles, and carried them ashore; others fixed their lassoes to the rafts. Thus instead of molesting the sufferers, these ‘uncivilized barbarians’ exerted themselves much for them. What a lesson to the ‘wreckers’ of some other coasts, whose inhabitants are called civilized!

But notwithstanding these friendly acts, Captain Seymour was too prudent to put confidence in the natives. He remembered the saying, ‘Nunca, nunca fiarse à los Indios;’ and forming a small encampment upon the beach, he barricaded it with spars, boats, casks, and other moveables.[5] There every thing was carried when landed, and put under care of the guard. All this day was anxiously occupied in landing stores and provisions. A small party remained on board; but the rest were on shore, during the night of the 20th.[6] Throughout the following days, some of the officers and all the men who were not on guard ashore, were constantly occupied in bringing provisions, ammunition, and stores from the wreck. Heavy and laborious as this duty proved, it was persevered in until every transportable article of value was removed. Two boat carronades were mounted on shore, which, with small arms and the barricade above mentioned, would have kept off a considerable force of Indians.

On the 21st, Lieutenant Collins and Mr. Lane (assistant-surgeon) set out to go to Concepcion: whence, directly after they arrived, Mr. Rouse set out, with horses and mules, taking such few useful things as he could carry, among which were two small tents, that had belonged to the Beagle, and were lent to Mr. Rouse, when his own house was shaken down by the destructive earthquake of February.

Wherever Mr. Rouse went he carried with him the thorough good-will and high respect of the inhabitants of the province of Concepcion--a feeling inestimably valuable at such a time, and totally different from the mere outward formal civility shown to him as the British consul! This feeling forwarded him on his journey, induced others to assist in earnest, and afterwards enabled him to procure a large supply of fresh provisions for the shipwrecked crew.

From Concepcion Lieutenant Collins went to Talcahuano, to hire a vessel. Only one fit for such a purpose was in the port, the Carmen, an American schooner, but her owner asked a price so utterly unreasonable, that the Lieutenant refused to engage with him, and returned to the wreck.

After Lieutenant Collins was despatched to Concepcion, Captain Seymour and the master went to examine the mouth of the river Leübu, about eighteen miles to the N.N.W. of Point Molguilla, where the ship struck. They found that boats might enter and leave the river with most winds; that there was no bar at the entrance; and that under Tucapel Heights[7] there was a spot very suitable for their encampment, until some means of embarkation should offer. Travelling overland so great a distance as to Concepcion, in such a country, would have been almost impracticable, except as a last resource; for it must have involved the total loss of every thing which they could not carry on their backs, and rendered useless the many days hard labour, in a raging surf, by which so much had been landed. It was therefore resolved, that as soon as all valuable stores which could be removed were landed, measures should be taken for shifting their camp to the Leübu.[8]

When the consul arrived his advice strengthened the opinion of Captain Seymour, and their immediate removal was decided upon. Though the Indians as yet had been inoffensive, Mr. Rouse had heard as he came of a large body who were approaching from the interior, and whose intentions he suspected to be hostile. The tribe then about Molguilla was that of an Indian cacique, in alliance with the Chilians, and therefore inclined to be civil, while the plunder was not very tempting, and while all the party were well armed and on the alert.

A few days after the ship was wrecked, this cacique gave a fine young heifer to Captain Seymour, who thanked him for his present, and expressed regret that any thing he could offer in return must be very trifling; when he was startled by a violent exclamation from the chieftain, who indignantly refused to accept any thing from men in distress. He would not take the paring of a nail from them, (biting his thumb-nail angrily as he spoke).

By Mr. Rouse’s exertions and assistance, as interpreter and adviser, several yoke of oxen were procured, as well as many horses, mules, and donkeys; but even with such unhoped-for help, the removal of the heavy stores which had been saved was a tedious and difficult undertaking. Once established, however, at Leübu, they felt comparatively secure: tents were made out of sails; a palisade was fixed and a ditch dug: but the guns, spars, anchors, cables, and large boats, were left on the beach, as they were too heavy for removal overland; and to transport them by sea, from such an exposed coast, was out of the question.

Leaving their good ship a wreck upon the shore, in the hands of those who would soon destroy her, to get at the copper and iron, was to all a melancholy sensation. But the feelings of her captain at that moment--how little those who obeyed orders had to feel, compared with him who gave them!

On the 8th of June the wreck was abandoned: and the whole party were encamped at Leübu. Time passed away but no tidings of assistance arrived. Sickness began its insidious attacks: for cold wet weather had succeeded to a duration of fine dry days unusual at that time of year. Some of their essential articles of provision were exhausted: inactivity and uncertainty were depressing the minds of all, and Captain Seymour had begun to concert measures for abandoning the ships’ stores, which had been so painfully saved, and travelling overland to Concepcion, when the letters from Commodore Mason were given to him. It ought not to be forgotten that Mr. Rouse decided to remain with Captain Seymour, and share his fate, whatever plan he might adopt.

Among evils of magnitude trifling vexations are little noticed; an absolute plague of mice caused amusing occupation, rather than annoyance. The ground, the tents, their beds, everything and every place was infested by mice: nothing was safe from their teeth; provisions were hung up, and people were obliged to watch them. Hundreds were killed every hour, for they literally swarmed over all that part of the country, and curiously enough the old people attributed their appearance to the earthquake! Besides these mice, which had feet like those of a lizard, enabling them to climb in all directions, even along the smallest line or branch of a tree, there were animals that they called rats, about the encampment at Leübu, which deserve mention, not on account of their numbers (as there were comparatively few) but because they were formed like opossums, having a pouch to contain their young for some time after birth.

Early the next morning (24th) I went up with Captain Seymour to the heights of Tucapel, which overlook the river and command an extensive view of the sea. Flag-staffs had been erected there, and large piles of wood collected, in order that flags might be kept flying by day, and fires burning at night. The little camp below presented a regular and very respectable appearance: fourteen or fifteen tents, pitched in regular order, and surrounded by a palisade with a ditch, would have caused even a large body of Indians to hesitate before they attacked it. I was much struck by the strength of the position, and the ease with which it might be defended by a small force against numbers, and still maintain communication with the sea. There was formerly a small settlement there, called a town, though in truth only a very small village: but latterly, the river Leübu has scarcely been noticed, except as the last retreat of the pirate Benavides. Nevertheless it is a situation admirably adapted for a commercial as well as agricultural settlement.

Though bread and other things were deficient, the shipwrecked party never knew the want of water, and they had always an abundant supply of a very fine kind of potato, which perhaps is hardly to be surpassed in size or quality by any in the world. Not one of the officers of the Challenger had seen its equal, and I never recollect eating any that were so good, and at the same time so large.[9] Neither beef nor mutton were scarce, in consequence of the ‘credit’ obtained by Mr. Rouse. Money was soon exhausted, but the high character of the consul was known all over the country, and the natives trusted implicitly to his word.

The report of a ‘wreck’ had quickly drawn numerous plunderers, even from Concepcion and Talcahuano: but those pilferers satisfied themselves secretly, I believe, without attempting any daring robbery. During the confusion of the first day no doubt much was stolen by Indians, and hidden in the neighbourhood: since many articles were sold to the Talcahuano people for spirits or tobacco, and being taken by them to that place, occasioned a report of the officers and crew having been stripped and plundered.

But it must not be supposed that Captain Seymour and his officers had no internal troubles, and that strangers were their only foes. Shameful acts of robbery were committed by some of the Challenger’s own party: a very few of her marines scrupling not to rifle chests and boxes belonging to officers. This conduct, in connexion with a spirit of insubordination which began to show itself, among some of those who knew Captain Seymour the least, occasioned his calling the crew together on the beach, and causing one man to be corporally punished.

On this trying occasion Captain Seymour animadverted on the thoughtless conduct of a few who talked of what ought to be done, as if they were on equal terms with those whose authority at such a time was more than ever necessary; and who, in their unguarded conversations, heeded not who was listening, or which of their inferiors might be influenced by their opinions. He reminded them of the treacherous and often hostile disposition of those Indians who then surrounded them, and were daily increasing in numbers; and made known not only his own determination to stay by the stores, at all hazards, but that those who attempted to desert should do so at the peril of their lives. He well knew that the majority (and that majority included all the worthiest and best) would stand by him to the last, and think little of difficulties or dangers incurred in doing their duty.

After this well-timed public admonition not a word more was heard about “abandoning the stores, and making the best of the way to Concepcion.” Neither was there again occasion to inflict punishment. This one act of necessary justice, executed so properly and decidedly, was probably the means of saving much property, of upholding character, and even of preserving many lives: for when once anarchy begins, who can foretel all its consequences?

Anxious to return as soon as possible to tell the Commodore how easily the Blonde might take off both people and stores, at the mouth of the Leübu, that he might lose no time in effecting the embarkation--I recrossed the river and was galloping towards Quiapo, before noon (on the 24th) hoping to reach Arauco ere midnight; and, certain of fresh horses, I and my two companions spared neither whip nor spur. Our guide dropped behind, but as we could find the path by our tracks of the previous day, we did not wait for him. Such ravines (quebradas) as we passed: how we got through them during the black darkness of the preceding night astonished me, for we could hardly scramble along in broad daylight: and had I known the nature of those passes, I certainly should not have tried to get through, excepting by day.

At Quiapo we had a mixture of corn and water, which I thought tolerably good. It is a common mess among the lower class of natives in many countries besides Chile.[10] A few handfuls of roasted corn, roughly pounded between two stones, were put into a cow’s horn, half full of cold water, and well stirred about with a stick until changed into a substantial mess of cold porridge. Our haste shortened the journey, and we should have reached Arauco in good time, had not a second guide (the man who waited at Quiapo with the Arauco horses) mistaken the road, and taken us along a track which was crossed by two rivers, not then fordable. His error was not discovered until too late, and to pass the rivers we were obliged to make a delay of several hours. The tract of country we traversed this day, was as fine as any that I have attempted to describe. I do not think we rode over or even saw an acre of unproductive land. The woody districts were very pleasing to the eye, and as specimens of a rich and fertile country almost in a state of nature, equally so to the mind. In many places our road lay through an open forest, where fine trees stood at considerable distances apart, and not being surrounded by underwood allowed us to gallop between them as we pleased. I thought of England’s forests in the ‘olden time.’

In one of the quiet woodland glades we passed through, some of the finest cattle I ever saw were grazing. One immense animal would have attracted admiration, even by the side of show-cattle in England. Very large, well-shaped, and extremely fat, he looked and moved as if few things had ever caused him to turn against his will. These cattle have owners, I was told, but are seldom molested: once perhaps in some years a large number may be killed for the sake of their hides and tallow; and even then so extensive and so little known are these woods, that a considerable proportion of the cattle are not seen by their indolent destroyers, nor yet at the almost nominal musters which take place annually. The soil being usually of a tenacious, clayey nature, and streams of water numerous, moisture sufficient for vegetation is ensured, even at the dryest periods. Indeed, these countries never have suffered from drought; their climate being a happy mean between the dry, parching heat of Northern Chile, or Peru, and the continual wet, wind, and chilliness of Chilóe.

The first river we had to cross was not more than fifty feet wide, but the banks were hollow and rotten. Our guide looked along the stream till he found a tree which had fallen across, so as to form a bridge over two-thirds of the width: and with a pole in his hand, he climbed as far as the boughs would bear him: then finding that the water beneath was not above his middle, he waded through the remainder. Unsaddling, we sent all the gear across by help of the tree and lassoes, and turned the horses over, much against their will, for they had to plunge in and scramble out.

Again using our spurs, we hoped to pass the second river also before dark, but in vain; there was only just daylight enough left to see that it had overflowed its banks, and seemed to be wide and rapid. Even Vogelborg thought it impossible to cross before the next morning, so we turned back to look for some hut in which we might obtain shelter from heavy rain, which was beginning to pour down. The night was very dark and our prospect rather comfortless, when we were fortunate enough to find a ‘rancho,’ and there we gladly took refuge. Its owners were absent at a merry-making in the ‘neighbourhood’ (about twenty miles off!); their daughters, however, and an Indian captive (from Boroa) were not deficient in hospitality. Poor girls! they were rather frightened at first, at their house being so suddenly occupied, but our guide quieted their alarm. As soon as the horses were provided for, we looked about for food for ourselves, and could find nothing but potatoes, till, hearing Vogelborg call for help in his broken English, I ran to him thinking he was hurt or attacked. He was struggling with a sheep which he had caught, and was dragging to the hut. Greatly were the poor girls alarmed when they saw that the sheep was to be sacrificed; they exclaimed that their father would beat them terribly, that the sheep was worth eight rials![11] A dollar for the sheep, and another for each of themselves, altered their tone; and before long we had such a fire and supper as the old ‘rancho’ had not witnessed since the wedding-day of its owners.

But what a night of penance we passed--the place swarmed with fleas, not one moment could I rest, though very tired; and it was raining too hard, and was too cold to sleep outside in the open air. These insects are the torment of travellers in Chile. The natives appear either not to feel, or not to be attacked by them, but an unlucky stranger who ventures to sleep within the walls of an inferior kind of house, or even any country house, in Chile, is sure to be their victim. When I stripped to bathe the next day, I found myself so covered, from head to foot, with flea-bites, that I seemed to have a violent rash, or the scarlet fever.

As the day broke (on the 25th) we mounted our horses, eager to get away from such unceasing tormentors: and the Indian girl undertook to show us a place where we might pass the river, even flooded as it was. By the help of fallen trees, lassoes, and poles, we conveyed ourselves and the saddles across; but to get the horses over was very difficult. The stream being rather wide and rapid, and the banks steep and rotten, occasioned so much difficulty, that two whole hours were spent in getting the animals across and out of the river. Our united strength applied to good lassoes, was barely sufficient to help the struggling and frightened creatures up the muddy broken banks. When one had passed, the others followed in their turns more readily; but I thought we should have lost one of them. From this river to Arauco was not above an hour’s ride, at the pace we went, though it is called seven leagues.

During the last two days I had seen several Indians of pure Araucanian blood, in their native dress, and was much struck by the precise similarity of that worn by the women, to the dress of the aborigines of Peru, as described and figured in Frazier’s voyage. The square cloak, or mantle, thrown over the shoulders, and fastened in front by a pin with a very large flat head, the size of a dollar, or even the palm of a hand; the broad band round the waist ornamented with beads; and the beaded or brass ornaments in the hair, ears, and round the neck, caught my eye sooner than their features, which are so similar to those of the almost Indian breed who live on the borders, that at first sight the difference was hardly noticed. Perhaps the eye of one of those Indians who has never lived with civilized people, is the only feature which differs strikingly: so much have the lower classes of Chilian creoles mixed with the aborigines. In the eye of a free, wandering Indian, there is a restless suspiciousness, which reminds one of the eye of a wild animal: but this peculiar expression is soon removed by civilization.

The clothing of the Araucanians, made by themselves, is very strong good cloth. Indian ponchoes will keep out rain longer than any others. Dark blue is the usual colour of their clothes, from ponchoes to petticoats; and they are all of woollen manufacture.

The women dress their hair with some pains, and ornament it with beads, bits of brass, or large-headed pins, such as those I have described. Some few have ornaments of gold: and to see an Indian woman dressed in her national costume, with large golden ornaments, quite transports the imagination to the days of Cortes and Pizarro. I saw but one so ornamented, a fine-looking young woman, the daughter of a cacique, who had accompanied some of her tribe to look at the shipwrecked white men. Her horse was a beautiful animal, looking as wild as herself.

At Arauco the worthy colonel welcomed me to breakfast, but regretted that I had been prevented from proceeding to the wreck: he thought some accident had happened, and hardly could believe that we had actually passed a night at the Leübu. D. Geronimo told me he had received intelligence of a large body of Indians, about three thousand strong, who were marching northward against Colipi, and his allies, the Chilians. He thought it probable that they would molest the Challenger’s people, for the sake of plunder as well as because they had been on friendly terms with Colipi.

This hostile tribe, whose visit he was anticipating, was that called ‘Boroanos,’ by the Chilians (‘Boroa-che,’ by the Indians). I have before said that in Boroa there are fair Indians; and that I saw, when at Valdivia, one of the natives of that district. The Indian girl, whom I mentioned just now as a captive, agreed exactly in what she stated of them, with the account I had previously heard. She and the ‘Boroana’ at Valdivia both said, that “their fathers had told them that the ‘rubios’ (meaning red and white, or red-haired people) were children of the women whom their ancestors took prisoners when they destroyed the seven cities.” Many of these ‘rubios’ had blue eyes, with rather fair complexions; and some few had red hair. If this is the true story, they must be gradually losing such striking peculiarities; and the assertion made a century ago that there were white Indians in Araucania, might well be thought erroneous now. Both of the ‘Boroanos’ whom I saw had dark blue or grey eyes, and a lighter complexion than other Indians; but their features were similar to those of their countrywomen, and they had long black hair.

In our way to Arauco this morning, we passed by Tubul, a place admirably adapted for a large town, but now occupied only by a few poor families living in huts. Hills surround a fine plain, through which the river Tubul winds to the sea: lying in that river, I saw the remains of a whaler (the Hersilia) captured by Benavides, when at anchor near the island of Santa Maria.[12] She was brought into the Tubul, plundered, and partly burned.

Some years ago, ships of two hundred tons could enter the mouth of this river, and pass up nearly a mile; but the late earthquake had raised the land so much, that only very small vessels could enter at this time. May not changes of relative level, similar to this, have occurred at the rivers Cauten, Tolten, and Bueno? The Cauten, or Imperial, is spoken of by the earlier writers on Chile, as admitting ships of burthen; but now the entrance of each of those rivers is almost closed by a bar.

In opposition to this idea it may be urged, that where a large river runs into the sea exactly against the direction of the prevailing wind and swell, a bar of sand, shingle, and mud must be formed by deposition from the opposing waters; and that it is only where a river runs uninterruptedly into the sea, protected from wind and swell by a projecting islet or point of land, that a perfectly clear entrance may be expected; and, therefore, that the Spanish accounts must have been incorrect. I suspect that they described those rivers as they found them at some distance inland, not at the mouth.

Leaving the hospitable colonel assembling a remarkably awkward squad, whom he was anxiously preparing for the threatened attack of the ‘Boroanos,’ we rode away upon the good horses which, three days previously, had brought us from Concepcion.

At the Carampangue there was no balsa. What was to be done? To wait until some one brought a boat from the opposite shore might expend the day; but the river was wide and deep, and the weather too cold for so long a swim: nevertheless, five dollars excited our guide, or rather horse-keeper, to make the trial, and during several minutes I thought he must have been drowned: for, instead of slipping off the horse, and holding by the mane or tail when he began to swim, the man sat bolt upright, so that the poor horse’s head was scarcely visible; and both horse and man appeared to get confused, turning round in the stream two or three times, while the current was carrying them down the river. At last they struggled out, to my infinite joy, and galloped off in search of the men whose business it was to attend at the ferry with a balsa. While we were anxiously waiting, a large party appeared on the opposite bank, with whom were the balsa-men. They had been merry-making, the previous day having been the feast of St. John; and as they had hardly recovered from the effects of ‘chicha,’ and other favourite libations, to carry so large a number across upon a small raft, was a difficult undertaking. Talking at the pitch of their voices, laughing and tumbling about, their reaching the opposite shore without a cold-bath, was attributed by Vogelborg to the protection of the saint whose anniversary they had so dutifully celebrated. The ‘chicha,’[13] is sometimes fermented, and then soon affects a person’s head, if drank to excess: but these votaries of St. John had doubtless improved its insipid taste by aguardiente. During the chicha season, or autumn, the Indians are said to be more dangerous than at other times, as they indulge in this, their favourite beverage, to excess.

Apple trees are now abundant in southern Chile, throughout the Indian as well as Spanish territories. They were also plentiful on the eastern side of the Andes, particularly about the river Negro and the great lake ‘Nahuelhuapi,’ in the middle of the last century. Whether they are indigenous, or were planted by the early missionaries, has been much disputed in that country; but as the Indian name for them is ‘manchana,’[14] I should incline to think they were introduced by the first missionaries.

Our road over the heights of Villagran was much worse than at our former passage. Heavy rain and constant traffic, in consequence of the wreck, had worn it into a curious succession of steps: and each animal endeavouring to place his feet in the holes made by those which had previously passed--the rain having filled up the hollows with mud and water--had worked the clayey track into a continuation of transverse ridges and trenches. A man might step from ridge to ridge without wetting his feet; but the horses always planted their legs, up to the knees and hocks, in the mud and water of the trenches. Their motion was just as if they were stepping over logs of timber: unpleasant enough for the rider, and extremely tiring to themselves. We helped them however as much as possible, to the surprise of our lazy guide, by dismounting and leading them up the hills as well as down.

We reached ‘Playa Blanca’ as it got dusk. The heights near Point Coronel were difficult, in the dark, but we passed without worse disaster than a roll in the mud, from my girths breaking while struggling in a slough. Along the level lands of Don Juan de Dios Rivera we galloped briskly, until we were completely bewildered in the darkness. At last we found ourselves among enclosures, and by pulling up rails and breaking fences, made our way to a farm-house, where such information was obtained as enabled us to reach San Pedro, on the south bank of the Bio Bio, soon after midnight. No inducement could prevail upon the owner of the ferry-boat to let her take us across before daylight, so we sat down by a fire, after feeding our excellent horses, and dozed till daybreak.

With the first dawn we drove the lazy boatmen to their barge, urging them alternately with money, entreaties, reproaches, and threats. The river was exceedingly swollen by late heavy rains, so that it was almost twice as wide, and quite as rapid, as usual. Our heavy ferry-boat was ‘tracked’ up it until it seemed possible for us to reach the other bank before the current swept us out to sea; but the appearance of the boat and men, and the utter uncertainty caused by a very thick fog, gave me no great hopes of reaching Concepcion in any reasonable time, though a vivid expectation of passing a few hours upon a sand-bank at the mouth of the river, if we escaped being hurried into the open sea. In this clumsily-built, flat-bottomed boat (a sort of large punt) were five horses, a troublesome young bull, six men, and three nominal boatmen, one of whom merely attempted to steer. With very long poles our unwieldy craft was pushed into the stream, and while the shore could be distinguished through the fog, made progress in a proper direction, though most crab-like was the movement. When fairly out of sight of land, the boatmen became alarmed and puzzled; but just then a large bell was heard tolling at Concepcion, which served to animate them, and to ensure our trying to go in the right direction. After an hour’s unpleasant work, in a very cold morning, we landed about a mile below Concepcion, having started about as much above it on the opposite side. No time was then lost in galloping to Talcahuano, and going on board the Blonde, so that Captain Seymour’s letter was delivered to Commodore Mason soon after ten.

I found that the commodore had engaged an American schooner[15] to go in search of the crew of the Challenger; and that Mr. Usborne had been sent in her, with the second master of the Blonde,[16] three seamen of that ship, my coxswain, and the whale-boat which I took from the Beagle; she was a poor craft, and wretchedly found, though reputed to have sailed well, and to have been a fine vessel in her time. They left Talcahuano on the day after a gale from the north-west (on the 24th), which, by all accounts, was one of the severest that had been experienced during many years.

The Blonde sailed from Concepcion Bay on the 27th, the morning after I arrived; but unfortunately, during all that day, thick weather and half a gale of wind from the northward, prevented our having even one glimpse of the land, as we were running towards the entrance of the Leübu.

On the 28th, thick weather kept us in the offing. On the 29th, at daylight, the schooner Carmen was seen, and soon afterwards, through the haze, we made out Tucapel Head. At this time, neither Vogelborg (who was on board as local pilot) nor I, knew that the Heights of Tucapel Viejo were identical with the headland we recognized by the name of Tucapel Head. We both thought that Tucapel Viejo was in the bay where the river ‘Lebo’ is placed in the old Spanish charts. This error appears almost unaccountable to me now; though both he and I were then drawn into it by a variety of reasons unnecessary to detail here, and we therefore advised the commodore to run along-shore towards the supposed place of the Leübu (or Lebo), which he did; but the weather was so unfavourable, so thick and hazy, that nothing could be seen distinctly. Scarcely indeed could we discern the line of the surf, heavily as it was beating upon the shore; and at noon we were obliged to haul off, on account of wind and rain.

I should have mentioned that we spoke the schooner at eight in the morning, when Mr. Usborne said they had seen nothing in their run along-shore on the 26th, the only clear day they had had. After speaking us, he kept to the northward, intending, as we concluded, to close the land about Tucapel Head, and again run along-shore to the southward. In the haze we quickly lost sight of the schooner; but thinking that we should soon meet again in clearer weather, little notice was taken of this circumstance, which was afterwards so much regretted. Continual thick weather prevented any observations being taken, as well as the land from being seen, until the 2d of July, when Tucapel Head was indistinctly made out in the distance. But strong wind and a high swell were reasons sufficient to keep the Blonde far in the offing, while thick hazy weather lasted; and after making the land we actually stood to sea again, without even attempting to show the ship to the poor fellows on shore. In the course of this night a few stars were seen; and their altitudes were the only observations that could have been obtained at any moment since we left Concepcion Bay, during six days of constantly clouded and hazy weather, in which neither sun, moon, nor stars, nor even the horizon could be seen!

On the 3d, Tucapel Head was again made out indistinctly; but nothing was done, a wide offing being still preserved.

On the 4th, the weather had improved enough to allow of a partial view of the coast between the supposed place of the Leübu and Cape Tirua; but no signal-fire, nor any thing like a flag, could be perceived on any of the heights.

Land appears so different when viewed from an offing at sea and when seen closely, especially from the land side, that it is less surprising that Vogelborg, who had visited the Leübu dozens of times by land, and also by sea in a boat, should be as much at a loss as myself to recognise the height which we had both ascended with Captain Seymour.

How it happened that I, who had surveyed this coast, should be ignorant of the real place of the Leübu, as I then certainly was, is another affair entirely, and one which I feel bound to explain. A momentary reference to my instructions shows that the Beagle was only expected to “correct the outline, and to fix the positions of all the salient points”[17] of the coast between Chilóe and Topocalma (near Valparaiso); and the Beagle’s charts of that coast prove that a great deal more was accomplished than was thought practicable when those instructions were framed.

Between Cape Tirua opposite Mocha, and Tucapel Head, the shore was laid down on our chart as determined by triangulation connected with the ship under sail, her distance from the land varying from one mile to five miles; and as no river was seen thereabouts, nor any break in the coast-line where a river’s mouth could be, our chart contained merely a note, saying, “River Lebo, according to the Spanish chart.” Now, the erroneous place of this Lebo (meant for Leübu) was twenty miles south of the real position, which, shut in behind Tucapel Head, could never have been seen from any vessel sailing past, however near the shore she might have been. The coast-line in the Beagle’s chart was proved to be perfectly correct; but the place of the Leübu, which could only have been obtained by landing, or having a local pilot on board, was not known; and not being a navigable river, I did not deem it of sufficient consequence to be worth our delaying on an exposed coast, without an anchorage or a landing-place--so far as I then knew--while it was sought for.

Considering the multiplicity of places the Beagle had to visit subsequently, I often found it necessary to sacrifice such details as seemed to me of least consequence. Every seaman knows how very difficult it is to make out the openings of some small rivers, while he is sailing along a coast little known, and all marine surveyors know that there is seldom any way of making sure of such openings without landing; or entering them in a boat. I do not say this to excuse neglect--not feeling culpable--but simply to explain how the case stood.

On each day, when near the land, guns were fired at intervals, and sometimes three or four were fired at once; blue lights also were occasionally burned during the nights, in hopes that the schooner might see them.

On the 5th of July, the day broke clearly for the first time during the longest week I ever passed, and we saw the land distinctly, from Cape Rumena to Tirua, with Mocha Island, strange to say, for the first time--near it as we had often been. Now that the tops of the hills were quite free from fog or cloud, I recognised the Heights of Tucapel at the first glance; and after looking for some minutes at their summits, through a good glass, I distinctly saw smoke rising. Standing towards them--in half an hour flags were discerned on the heights, and there was no longer any doubt; yet no steps were taken until near one o’clock, though it was a beautiful, and almost calm day. From nine in the morning until one, the Blonde lay almost becalmed, about five miles from the land. At one, three boats were sent to the mouth of the Leübu, with some money and a small supply of bread; but a current setting along the shore from the northward delayed their reaching the entrance of the river until evening.

We found the greater part of the Challenger’s crew still in health; but delay and bad weather had increased the sick-list, and two of her party (the assistant-surgeon and a young midshipman) were in danger: waiting so long in uncertainty, and without employment, in a wet, dirty place, had tried all their constitutions severely. It was too late to attempt going out into the offing after the Blonde, (which was standing to sea) with the gig and cutter, two indifferent boats; so manning the barge with a double crew, one crew being men of the Challenger, and taking one of her officers (Lieutenant Collins) with me, I hastened out of the river as the sun was setting. A light breeze from the land favoured us, and though the Blonde was hull down in the south-west when we started, we were happy enough to get on board at about eight o’clock.

In going off to the ship after it became dark, we kept the end of a piece of old gun-breeching burning, held up in the bow of the boat. The light, as strong almost as that of a false fire, was seen plainly on board the ship, and then she was hove-to. As soon as the barge was hoisted in, the frigate again made sail off shore; but a fortunate mistake caused the main-yard to be squared about midnight, and at daybreak next morning we were in a good position off the entrance of the river. The Blonde then steered towards the land, and at nine anchored near the River Leübu, about a mile from Tucapel Head. Every boat was hoisted out, and the work of embarkation proceeded rapidly. Though a swell made the ship roll heavily, and delayed the boats alongside, the weather was so fine and a south-east wind so favourable, that the quickness of going and returning made amends for some delay in discharging each cargo. At six in the evening, Captain Seymour came on board with the last party of his crew, and at eight, the Blonde weighed and made sail, before a fresh and favourable breeze.

Most of the tents remained standing, being of very little value, and some of the stores were left. For what was abandoned, both there and at Molguilla, the commodore appointed Vogelborg to be agent, leaving him on the spot to take charge: and he wisely asked one of the Chilians who lived in the neighbourhood, and had generally supplied the shipwrecked crew with provisions, to join him in his undertaking. Between them they might have recovered many things of value to individuals, but, to the British Government, nothing worth the great expense of carriage to Concepcion.

Mr. Rouse sent his servants back by land, with his horses and mules, and accompanied his esteemed friend, Captain Seymour, in the Blonde. The numerous Indians and others whom we left gathering round the encampment, in all probability saved Vogelborg and his partner the trouble of taking care of much of the property. They reminded me of the vultures which in those countries gather round the places where men are slaughtering cattle.

During the night of the 6th, the Blonde passed rapidly northward, running before a fresh southerly breeze; and at eleven in the morning of the 7th, she was off Point Tumbes, when seeing a dismasted vessel, with an English blue ensign hoisted, about five miles to the northward of us, the frigate stood towards her, and finding that she was the schooner Carmen, closed and took her in tow. But for the Blonde’s opportune arrival, she would have been drifted to the northward, and obliged to run into any port she could reach. Mr. Usborne came on board, and as soon as he had refreshed himself by a few hours’ sleep, gave me the following account of his proceedings and accidents.

After leaving Talcahuano, wind and weather favoured the Carmen until she had run along the coast from Tucapel Head to Cape Tirua, at about a mile from the surf, without seeing either smoke, flags, people, or wreck; but, during one night, a fire was seen on Tucapel Head. When Mr. Usborne spoke the Blonde, on the morning of the 29th, the schooner was on her way to the place where she had seen the fire; and he would have said so when the Blonde hailed him had he had time, but as she passed on without stopping, and he felt sure that the Challenger’s people were not in the direction which she was taking, he kept a different course. At about two in the afternoon of that day, while four seamen were aloft on the topsail-yard, furling the topsail, the schooner gave a sudden plunge into a high swell, and away went the foremast head, fore-topmast, and topsail-yard. The four men were carried overboard, but saved; though one (James Bennett) was severely bruised. The main-mast followed, being dragged downwards and broken by the rigging attached to the head of the foremast; and in this state, a mere wreck, the Carmen drifted towards Mocha. So wretchedly was the vessel provided in every way, that the only tools which they had to cut the laniards of the rigging with, were knives and a cooper’s old adze.

After clearing the wreck, they got up a small spar abaft, on which was set the Beagle’s boat’s sail; and by means of cleats,[18] Bennett and J. Nutcher (boatswain’s mate of the Blonde), got to the head of the stump of the foremast, although, being loose in the step, it swayed to and fro as if it would go overboard, and fixed temporary rigging. A staysail and trysail were then set, and just saved her from going ashore upon the weather side of Mocha, while it was blowing hard, with a high sea running; and in all probability, not one person would have been saved had she struck. If Mr. Usborne had not known this land well, from his late survey, it is not likely that they would have escaped, because when they found themselves about half a mile from the breakers, the tack which appeared to the others to be by far the best, was in truth the worst: had they gone on that tack, nothing could have saved them. Mr. Usborne saw their position exactly, and knowing how the current would affect them, determined upon what they thought the wrong tack, and rescued them. I say that Mr. Usborne did this; because Mr. Biddlecombe was sick, and the master of the vessel reluctantly yielded to the person who he saw was at home, while he himself was utterly bewildered.

After this narrow escape, the schooner was drifted to the southward, as far as the latitude of Valdivia, before the southerly wind, which took the Blonde to the mouth of the Leübu, drove the Carmen back slowly to the northward. Mr. Usborne and his companions had almost entered the opening of the Bay of Concepcion early in the morning of the day on which the Blonde took them in tow, but had been drifted away again by a fresh wind, and were falling to leeward fast, for want of sail, when the Blonde arrived. Mr. Usborne recovered from his fatigue in two or three days, but Bennett was ill for a fortnight.

During the few days they were away, they suffered much. As for the ten men belonging to the vessel, they were utterly useless, being frightened or sick during the whole time; so that but for the exertion of the Blonde’s seamen, of Bennett, of the master of the vessel (Mr. Thayer), of Mr. Biddlecombe, and above all, Mr. Usborne, the Carmen might have left her remains on the shore, when perhaps few, if any, would have survived to tell the fatal tale.[19]

The Blonde worked to windward, with the schooner in tow, during the remainder of the day and early part of the night, and at midnight they both anchored off Talcahuano.

Until the 10th, it was necessary to remain at anchor, as there were accounts to settle between the commodore, the consul, the pursers, the officers, and the owner of the schooner; there were visits to the Authorities, to thank them for their assistance, and, as usual on board men-of-war, there was much to do in very little time. To Don José Alemparte, the yntendente of the province; to Colonel Boza, the principal military authority; to D. Miguel Bayon, the governor of Talcahuano; and to Don Pablo Delano, captain of the port, sincere thanks were really due for their earnest exertions. Mr. Rouse took his leave of us on the 10th, and we then sailed.

While the Blonde was lying off Talcahuano, I had a few opportunities of looking about, and seeing that both Concepcion and Talcahuano were rising out of their ruins, and that their unfortunate inhabitants had, at least, roofs over their heads. Concepcion was, and is still nominally, a city: but it will be long before it again appears as such to the eye of a stranger. Some idea may be formed of the low scale to which every thing was there reduced, when I mention that it was very difficult to find a carriage of any kind in which the Commodore could go to visit the Yntendente.

Great discussions had arisen on the subject of rebuilding the city. The government party wished to remove the site to a better position; but there was so strong an opposition, that the result was likely to be the gradual rebuilding of the town in the same place, while the removal was still undecided, and under consideration. Two situations were named as much more eligible than the former: one on the banks of the little river Andalien, about a mile from the old city; and the other, on a rising ground about two miles on the Talcahuano side of Concepcion. This latter position has many and great advantages, as all acknowledged; but people were reluctant to move; each one had or fancied an advantage in the old situation of his house, encumbered as it was with ruins. Besides, many more serious difficulties would arise in leaving small freeholds, and obtaining equivalents in another place: however, an active government might have accomplished so desirable a change without injuring anyone, by purchasing the ground, and distributing it so fairly that each man should gain rather than lose. The sum necessary for purchasing ground for a new city, would not have been greater than might have been borrowed; and repaid in ten years out of the custom-house.

Perhaps there is not a situation in the world much more advantageous to the prosperity of a commercial city than this of which we are speaking. Centrally placed between the great and navigable river Bio Bio, the port of San Vicente, the noble bay of Concepcion, and an easy communication by land with the best part of Chile, a part which may well be called one of the finest countries in the world:--with a large extent of level and fertile land on all sides--with the means of obtaining water by sinking wells to a small depth, as well as by an aqueduct from the Bio Bio--and with the blessing of an unexceptionable climate--how could the New Concepcion fail to thrive, and increase rapidly? It might be shaken down and destroyed by an earthquake as soon as built, may be said. Probably, may be replied, if the inhabitants should be so unwise as to build houses of brick and stone, one or two stories in height, and with heavily tiled roofs. But let them try another mode of building. Wood is abundant, and let them make that the only material of which either walls or roofs shall be composed. A strong frame-work, similar in some measure to that of a ship, lightly covered or ceiled with thin planks, and roofed with shingles,[20] would, if placed on the ground and not let into it as foundations usually are, withstand the convulsions of any earthquake which has yet happened in that tormented country. Why do not the Chilians pay more attention to the remark of the aborigines of Peru, who, when they saw the Spaniards digging deep foundations for their buildings, said, “You are building your own sepulchres?”[21]

The houses of the natives of Peru were in those days built without foundations, simply upon the levelled ground; and they withstood the severest shocks. No house should extend far upwards. Nothing should be above the ground floor but a light strongly-secured wooden roof: and they should be placed upon firm ground--if possible, upon rock. The principal objections against the present site of Concepcion are--that the earth upon which the houses stand is every where loose, and sandy, and that it is too near the river.

One day, while visiting a gentleman at Talcahuano, he called three little Araucanian boys into the room where Mr. Rouse and I were sitting with him, and desired them to harangue or make speeches to one another in their own way. The little fellows stepped forward boldly, and one of them spoke to the other two in a very fluent and expressive manner; but ended every marked sentence, or portion of his subject, by the singular sharp rise of the voice which has so often been noticed as a peculiarity in the oratory of Indians in this country. Another boy replied in a similar manner; and then they began to fight with their fists. This part of the display of course we stopped; but we were much interested by the composure and readiness with which the little boys spoke. One of the speakers was son of a cacique. All three had been obtained by actual (though secret) purchase from their countrymen, through the intervention of one of the ‘Capitanes de los Amigos,’[22] one of whose offices is to take the part of and protect the natives. Perhaps, in the first instance, these boys had been stolen or taken prisoners, and were not the children of those who sold them to the ‘captain of the friends.’ In the family of Don ---- those boys found a comfortable and a happy home; he had taken them from the rascally ‘capitan de los amigos’ as an act of charity, and intended to give them employment and land on his estate. I thought of Lautaro, as I noticed the bright eye of the little cacique.

When I took leave of the Yntendente, he said that he was about to make a journey to the frontier, for the sake of inspecting the outposts and securing the assistance of the friendly Indians: and this, I afterwards understood, was in consequence of the rumoured approach of those hostile tribes of whom Colonel Valenzuela had spoken to me at Arauco.

We sailed from Talcahuano with a fair wind, which carried us quickly and pleasantly along-shore; but crowded, and anxious as we were, the ship could not go fast enough for us. The sick people, excepting Mr. Lane, were improving when we reached Valparaiso on the 13th. Much attention and kindness were shown to Captain Seymour by his acquaintance at Valparaiso; but it could not be expected that he should be cheerful, or inclined to see people, excepting intimate friends, at that time; particularly as the death of Mr. Lane was an additional blow much felt by him. I was very glad when we weighed anchor, on the 17th, for every hour caused an increase of painful feeling.

A fresh fair wind drove us in twenty-four hours to Coquimbo, where the Conway was at anchor ready for sea. It was then arranged, that all the officers and two-thirds of the crew should go home in the Conway; and, of course, no small bustle of preparation for so many passengers was caused. Captain[23] and Mrs. White already occupied one-half of the captain’s cabin, and their luggage a considerable space below; but as both Captain Eden and the senior lieutenant, Johnstone, were bent upon accommodating the shipwrecked party to the utmost of their power, stowage-room was cleverly contrived.

How striking the contrast appeared between the fertility and verdure of the Concepcion country, and the dry barrenness of the naked earth or rocks about Coquimbo. Scarcely any one went on shore; a mixture of unpleasant feelings occasioned a gloomy heaviness in most of our minds.

On the 22d, both ships sailed from Coquimbo, and soon afterwards parted company. The Conway stood to the westward, ‘close-hauled;’ while the Blonde steered towards the north with a fresh southerly wind.

What caused the loss of the Challenger?--is a question not easy to answer with certainty. The error in her reckoning amounted to more than forty miles; and the only way in which I can account for it to my own satisfaction is, that while the north-west wind was blowing, a current set to the southward and eastward, for which no allowance was made, as those on board could not be aware that such a current might be found, its existence not being known. A south-east current was not to be expected thereabouts; for the general set of the waters is northerly, excepting near the land, and they thought themselves in the offing. But currents are very uncertain and treacherous in most places. Unusual winds, peculiar seasons affecting the weight of the atmosphere, and those powerful interrupters of all order--earthquakes, have immediate effect upon the great ocean, as well as upon small bodies of water, though not always so visibly.

Scarcely four months had elapsed since that tremendous earthquake, which destroyed so many towns in Chile, had altered the movements of the Pacific Ocean upon all the extent of coast which reaches from latitude forty-five to the parallel of twenty-five. Even in July, the land about Concepcion was scarcely considered to be at rest, and recovered, as it was said, from those awful convulsions. Can it then be considered improbable that the currents of that sea should have taken unusual directions, and betrayed even cautious seamen, such as Captain Seymour and Mr. Macdonald (the master) were well known to be. So much care and judgment had always been shown in conducting the Challenger, and she had visited so many places in the Atlantic, in the Pacific, and among the South Sea Islands, that of all the King’s ships at that time in commission, those who sailed in her (unconnected even with her management) thought her one of the last that would end a voyage disastrously.[24] The surprising manner in which the hull of the Challenger held together, and so long resisted heavy shocks, reflects infinite credit upon her architect (Hayes), and upon the dock-yard where she was built.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Lines of foam, and intervals of light-coloured water.

[2] When the ship was thus hove violently astern, her rudder, stern-post, dead-wood abaft, gun-room beams, cabin-deck, and many timbers, besides planking, crashed awfully as they broke at once before the resistless power of an ocean swell.

[3] The peculiarity other form--drawing as much water forward as she did abaft--may have been partly the cause of her bow remaining to seaward, which contributed so much to the preservation of lives.

[4] He had anxiously sought to go in the first boat.

[5] The barricade was finished on the 25th.

[6] It was on this day that the Swede saw the unfortunate Challenger.

[7] Immediately over the entrance of the river.

[8] While Captain Seymour was away at the Leübu, the officers availed themselves of the opportunity to get the greater part of his stores and private property, books, &c. landed; for he would not allow any of his own things to be moved, or a man to be employed about them, while an article of the ship’s stores could be saved, though his private property was very valuable.

[9] The officers of the Blonde were of a similar opinion, after trying a great many that were sent on board from the Leübu.

[10] Among the Araucanian aborigines it is made with maize, and called ulpu.

[11] Or a dollar, equal to about four shillings.

[12] Captain Hall’s Journal, vol. i. p. 312-13.

[13] ‘Chicha’ is made with maize, apples, or other things.

[14] Manzana is Spanish for apple.

[15] The Carmen; for which such exorbitant demands had been made in answer to Lieutenant Collins.

[16] Mr. Biddlecombe.

[17] Hydrographer’s Memorandum, p. 31.

[18] To secure these cleats to the mast, they were obliged to draw nails out of the vessel’s beams, having no others.

[19] Mr. Usborne’s narrative of this affair is in the Appendix, No. 27.

[20] Small pieces of wood, like tiles.

[21] Ulloa, vol. i. p. 340.

[22] See page 399.

[23] Then Vice-Consul at Valparaiso.

[24] This I have heard from several persons who were wrecked in the ship, whose opinions I have reason to respect.