306 TiERRA DEL FUEGO. June, 1834. 



dusky mass were highly interesting : jagged points, cones of 

 snow, blue glaciers, strong outlines marked on a lurid sky, 

 were seen at different distances and heights. In the midst of 

 such scenery we anchored at Cape Turn, close to Mount Sar- 

 miento, which was then hidden in the clouds. At the base 

 of the lofty and almost perpendicular sides of our little cove, 

 there was one deserted wigwam, and it alone reminded us 

 that man sometimes wandered in these desolate regions. 

 But it would be difficult to imagine a scene where he seemed 

 to have less claims, or less authority. The inanimate works 

 of nature — rock, ice, snow, wind, and water — all warring with 

 each other, yet combined against man — here reigned in 

 absolute sovereignty. 



June 9th. — In the morning we were delighted by seeing 

 the veil of mist gradually rise from Sarmiento, and display 

 it to our view. This mountain, which is one of the highest 

 in Tierra del Fuego, has an elevation of 6800 feet. Its base, 

 for about an eighth of its total height, is clothed by dusky 

 woods, and above this a field of snow extends to the sum- 

 mit. These vast piles of snow, which never melt, and seem 

 destined to last as long as the world holds together, present 

 a noble and even sublime spectacle. The outline of the 

 mountain was admirably clear and defined. Owing to the 

 abundance of light reflected from the white and glittering 

 surface, no shadows are cast on any part ; and those lines 

 which intersect the sky can alone be distinguished : hence 

 the mass stood out in the boldest relief. Several glaciers de- 

 scended in a winding course, from the snow to the sea-coast : 

 they may be likened to great frozen Niagaras; and per- 

 haps these cataracts of blue ice are to the full as beauti- 

 ful as the moving ones of water. By night we reached the 

 western part of the channel; but the water was so deep 

 that no anchorage could be found. We were in conse- 

 quence obliged to stand off and on, in this narrow arm of 

 the sea, during a pitch-dark night of fourteen hours long. 



June 10th. — In the morning we made the best of our 

 way into the open Pacific. The Western coast generally 



