220 IN PONSONBY SOUND. [chap. x. 



she righted and came up to the wind again. Had another 

 sea followed the first our fate would have been decided 

 soon, and for ever. We had now been twenty-four days 

 trying in vain to get westward ; the men were worn out 

 with fatigue, and they had not had for many nights or 

 days a dry thing to put on. Captain Fitz Roy gave up 

 the attempt to get westward by the outside coast. In 

 the evening we ran in behind False Cape Horn, and 

 dropped our anchor in forty-seven fathoms, fire flashing 

 from the windlass as the chain rushed round it. How 

 delightful was that still night, after having been so long 

 involved in the din of the warring elements ! 



January i^th^ 1833. — The Beagle anchored in Goeree 

 Roads. Captain Fitz Roy having resolved to settle the 

 Fuegians, according to their wishes, in Ponsonby Sound, 

 four boats were equipped to carry them there through the 

 Beagle Channel. This channel, which was discovered by 

 Captain Fitz Roy during the last voyage, is a most remark- 

 able feature in the geography of this or indeed of any other 

 country ; it may be compared to the valley of Loch Ness in 

 Scotland, with its chain of lakes and friths. It is about 

 one hundred and twenty miles long, with an average breadth, 

 not subject to any very great variation, of about two miles ; 

 and is throughout the greater part so perfectly straight that 

 the view, bounded on each side by a line of mountains, 

 gradually becomes indistinct in the long distance. It 

 crosses the southern part of Tierra del Fuego In an east 

 and west line, and in the middle is joined at right angles 

 on the south side by an irregular channel, which has been 

 called Ponsonby Sound. This is the residence of Jemmy 

 Button's tribe and family. 



January i<)th. — Three whale-boats and the yawl, with a 

 party of twenty-eight, started under the command of Captain 

 Fitz Roy. In the afternoon we entered the eastern mouth 

 of the channel, and shortly afterwards found a snug little 

 cove concealed by some surrounding islets. Here we pitched 

 our tents and lighted our fires. Nothing could look more 

 comfortable than this scene. The glassy water of the little 

 harbour, with the branches of the trees hanging over the 

 rocky beach, the boats at anchor, the tents supported by 

 the crossed oars, and the smoke curling up the wooded 

 valley, formed a picture of quiet retirement. The next day 

 (20th) we smoothly glided onwards in our little fleet, and 

 came to a more inhabited district. Few if anv of these 



