20 PATAGONIAN EXPEDITIONS : NARRATIVE. 



scribed by Arctic travelers. This quiet suffered occasional interruption, 

 as our boats moved slowly under the shadow of some overhanging cliff 

 and suddenly startled, by our near approach, a group of water-fowl resting 

 quietly at the base. These would move off in great confusion, uttering 

 at the same time those indescribable screams, which, for volume and harsh 

 ness, are unsurpassed in other birds. Thus, for a few moments, would 

 the almost absolute quiet be changed to the greatest pandemonium. 

 Then, as the disturbers gained a spot of fancied or real security, the 

 noise would gradually die away, followed usually by the plaintive hoot 

 of an owl, sitting solitary in his eyrie high up in the overhanging cliff. 



A little after midnight we returned to the ship and were soon in our 

 berths and fast asleep, after one of the most pleasant and interesting days 

 of the entire trip. Long before we had arisen on the following morning 

 the anchor was up and we were off again on our way south. When we 

 came on deck in the morning, we were greeted with the same clear, 

 bracing atmosphere, warmed by the sun's gentle rays. Captain Calderon 

 and several of the ship's officers, however, were very careful to tell us 

 that we should soon encounter bad weather. On asking if the barom- 

 eter indicated a change for the worse, we learned that their predictions 

 were not based on any change of atmospheric conditions indicated by 

 that instrument, and consequently took their predictions for what they 

 were worth. Notwithstanding their assurances that we should never cross 

 the Gulf of St. George, which we were now entering, without encounter- 

 ing a storm, we resolved to make the best of the present, regardless of 

 what the future might bring us. For three days we kept on our way 

 southward, all the time out of sight of land until approaching the 

 entrance of Port Desire, at the mouth of the Desire River, and through- 

 out the weather was all that could be wished. 



At Port Desire we anchored in front of some old Spanish ruins, which 

 stood at a distance of about two hundred yards from the water's edge, 

 on the level surface of a narrow terrace, at the foot of an escarpment of 

 hard, coarse-grained brown sandstones. The sandstone was overlaid by 

 "Tosca," which formed the uppermost portion of the bluff, from the sum- 

 mit of which, stretching far away into the interior, lay the broad level 

 plains so characteristic of Patagonian landscapes. The ruins just referred 

 to were constructed of a good quality of sandstone. The foundations 

 were of such a nature as to suggest strength and solidity, and the masonry 



