May 1829. suRPRISE AND CUNNING OF NATIVES. Q07 
ing signs to us that we must dig in the earth for it. We went 
there, and near a green-looking spot some good water was 
found. We then landed, and enjoyed our breakfast at one 
o'clock, being not a little thirsty. 
“ The natives were still with us; they seemed inquisitive 
and cunning; and shewed great surprise at a sextant and arti- 
ficial horizon, by which they sat down, attentively watching 
what was done. I put my watch to their ears; they were much 
astonished, and each came in his turn to hear it tick. I pointed 
to the watch and then to the sky ;_ they shook their heads and 
suddenly looked so grave, that from their manner in this in- 
stance, and from what I could understand by their signs, I felt 
certain they had an idea of a Superior Being, although they 
have nothing like an image, and did not appear to us to have any 
form of worship. We could learn scarcely any words of their 
language, because of their trick of repeating whatever we said. 
‘‘ They saw how we lighted a fire, by means of a tinder-box, 
and took an opportunity to tread it out of sight. Our loss 
was not known until leaving the spot, when that material 
necessary was missed. It was evident they had stolen it; and 
while I was meditating a reprisal, one of our men by chance 
trod upon the missing box, which was artfully hid under the 
sand. After this discovery, they seemed rather inclined for a 
skirmish, all having clubs, while our men appeared to have no 
weapons. However, we parted without a quarrel. 
“The features of these people differed from those of the 
Fuegians whom I had previously seen, in being better formed, 
and having a less artful expression. 
“© We pulled hence along a low shore until evening, when 
distant land began to show itself, stretching to the north- 
ward and eastward, and bounding this supposed inland sea. 
At dusk we discovered an opening, which appeared to be 
either a river or a channel, and I steered for its north bank, 
securing the boats for the night in a place we named Donkin 
Cove, as a mark of respect to the preserver of meat, to whom 
we had been so often thankful. A little of this meat, mixed 
with wild fowl, and some wild celery, makes a wholesome and 
Qa 
