430 NATIVES—GUANACOES—ORANGE Bay. April 1830. 
as the western wigwams: but all were not so large. Every 
canoe gave chase to our boat, eager to see the strangers, and 
exchange small fish, spear-heads, or arrows, for buttons, beads, 
and other trifles. No arms or offensive weapons were seen 
among them, excepting fish spears, bows, arrows, and slings: 
they had not even clubs, nor such lances as are used by the 
western tribes. They seemed to be more tractable, and less 
disposed to quarrel than those of the west. Wherever the boat 
went, she was followed by a train of canoes, each full of people, 
and having a fire smoking in the middle. Where they got the 
guanaco skins was a question not easy to answer. Was there a 
passage to the northward, by which they could trade with the 
people living there ?—or were there guanacoes in the southern 
part of Tierra del Fuego? Both the bones and skins seemed 
abundant ; but the people made signs to Mr. Murray that they 
came from the eastward :—none pointed towards the north. 
One native showed how they ran, and their shape, and how 
they were killed, also the kind of noise they made. 
‘15th. Mr. Stokes returned, after going a long way to the 
north and west, without finding a passage into New Year 
Sound. His examination, united to Mr. Murray’s, almost com- 
pleted the north and west part of Nassau Bay; and only the 
east side remained to be explored. Our anchorage, called 
Orange Bay, is excellent; and one of the few on this coast 
which are fit for a squadron of line-of-battle ships. Its ap- 
proach from the sea is as easy as the harbour is commodious. 
There are three fathoms close to the shore; yet in no part 
are there more than twenty ; and every where there is a sandy 
bottom. Water is abundant; wood grows close to the sea ; 
wild-fowl are numerous; and although shell-fish are scarce, 
plenty of small fish may be caught with hook and line among 
the kelp, and in the summer a seine will furnish abundance. 
“On the 16th we left Orange Bay, but light winds pre- 
vented our reaching the open sea that day, or during the 
following night. I was equally disposed to run out again to the 
Diego Ramirez—to look at the coast west of False Cape for 
about ten miles—or to run for the Bay of St. Francis ; but the 
