346 FAUNA AOT) FLORA OF THE FALKLANDS. 



duced as it rushed tlirough and round these heaps of rocks was 

 very weird. In most instances these rocks were covered with a 

 single species of a beautiful lichen, which I helieve to be JJsnea 

 mdaxantha, a native of the Arctic regions. The entire absence of 

 trees from the archipelego, moreover, is a feature to which I 

 never became reconciled. One never failing source of interest to 

 me was to watch the beautiful effects of light and shade steal 

 over the land on a bright day, when the sun would occasionally 

 be obscured by a passing cloud. We enjoyed during my visit, 

 perhaps, half-a-dozen of the most beautiful sunsets it has ever 

 been my good fortune to see. On each occasion, as the sun sank 

 behind the range of hills to the westward of the town, the undu- 

 lating grassy land was j&ooded with golden light ; and a little 

 later the peninsula at the eastern end of the harbour and Mount 

 Low were coloured with the richest shades of orange changing to 

 rose-colour, while the valleys were filled with a purple haze. 

 There was never any wind on these evenings, and the reflections 

 of the hills and vessels were perfectly reproduced on the still 

 surface of the sea. On one of these occasions, as I was collect- 

 ing wild flowers about two miles to the eastward of the town, my 

 attention was attracted by a beautiful rose-coloured cloud which 

 seemed stationary on the top of Mount Low, a hill about six 

 miles distant. As I returned, I noticed this cloud gradually 

 drifting towards Stanley, and about an hour later it must have 

 discharged its contents over the town ; for the rain descended in 

 torrents for some hours afterwards. 



After sunset, when the moon is absent and the sky cloudless, 

 the brilliancy of the stars in these latitudes is remarkable. They 

 seem literally to sparkle like liquid gems, the atmosphere being 

 so very pure, and in spite of a heavy rain-fall free from 

 moisture. The Southern Cross at the time of my visit was high 

 up in the sky, and during these fine evenings I could easily dis- 

 tinguish the starless spaces, so aptly termed by early navigators 

 the " coal-sacks." These cloudless nights, like the beautiful sun- 

 sets, were rare, and so perhaps have made a deeper impression 

 upon my mind than they would otherwise have done. 



Among the greatest attractions to the naturalist who visits 

 these climes are the huge belts of sea- weeds which festoon the 

 rocks and shores. Under the euphonious name of "Kelp," two 



