104 FUEGIANS—SHIPS SAIL. 1827. 
the next day. Maria put into the boat, after my refusal to let 
her go on board to pass the night, two bags, and asked me to 
send her flour and sugar. She was most importunate for aqua 
ardiente, which, however, I refused. Her constant cry was 
“It is very good to be drunk ; I like drinking very much ; 
rum is very good.—Give me some ?” (‘Muy bueno es boracho, 
mucho mi gusta, mucho mi gusta de beber, muy bueno es aqua 
ardiente.—Da me no mas ?*) 
Among them was a Fuegian Indian; but it did not appear 
clearly whether he was living with them permanently, or only 
on a visit. Some of us thought we understood the account of 
one of the Patagonians, who seemed to be the most interested 
about him, to be, that a master of a sealer had left him amongst 
them. We knew him instantly by his squalid and compara- 
tively diminutive appearance, and were confirmed in our ideas 
by his recognition of the words ‘ Hosay’ and Sherroo.’ The 
Patagonian name for a ship is ¢ Carro grande,’ and for a boat 
‘ Carro chico, a mixture of their own and the Spanish lan- 
guage. All that I could understand of his history was, that he 
was Cacique of some Indian tribes at a distance: he was 
evidently a great favourite, and although Maria spoke generally 
with much contempt of the Fuegian Indians, she had patronised 
this stranger, for he lived in her toldo, and shared all the 
presents that were made to her. 
The following morning it rained hard, and blew so fresh a 
gale, from the westward, that it would have been dangerous to 
send a boat on shore: and I was obliged to weigh without 
landing the things which I had promised. After we were under 
weigh, the weather cleared partially, when we observed Maria 
on the beach, mounted on her white horse, with others watching 
our departure, and when it was evident that we were really 
gone, she rode slowly back to her toldo, no doubt considerably 
vexed. I was very sorry to treat them in this way, for their 
conduct towards us had been open and friendly. All I could 
hope to do, to make amends, was to give something of value 
at my return. 
We steered across the Bay of St. Philip, accompanied by 
