174 PORT DESIRE 



December 2ird. — We arrived at Port Desire, situated in 

 lat. 47", on the coast of Patagonia. The creek runs for about 

 twenty miles inland, with an irregular width. The Beagle 

 anchored a few miles within the entrance, in front of the ruins 

 of an old Spanish settlement. 



The same evening I went on shore. The first landing in 

 any new country is very interesting, and especially when, as 

 in this case, the whole aspect bears the stamp of a marked and 

 individual character. At the height of between two and three 

 hundred feet above some masses of porphyry a wide plain 

 extends, which is truly characteristic of Patagonia. The surface 

 is quite level, and is composed of well-rounded shingle mixed 

 with a whitish earth. Here and there scattered tufts of brown 

 wiry grass are supported, and, still more rarely, some low 

 thorny bushes. The weather is dry and pleasant, and the fine 

 blue sky is but seldom obscured. When standing in the 

 middle of one of these desert plains and looking towards the 

 interior, the view is generally bounded by the escarpment ot 

 another plain, rather higher, but equally level and desolate ; 

 and in every other direction the horizon is indistinct from the 

 trembling mirage which seems to rise from the heated surface. 



In such a country the fate of the Spanish settlement was 

 soon decided ; the dryness of the climate during the greater 

 part of the year, and the occasional hostile attacks of the 

 wandering Indians, compelled the colonists to desert their half- 

 finished buildings. The style, however, in which they were com- 

 menced shows the strong and liberal hand of Spain in the old 

 time. The result of all the attempts to colonise this side of 

 America south of 41° has been miserable. Port Famine 

 expresses by its name the lingering and extreme sufferings of 

 several hundred wretched people, of whom one alone survived 

 to relate their misfortunes. At St. Joseph's Bay, on the coast 

 of Patagonia, a small settlement was made ; but during one 

 Sunday the Indians made an attack and massacred the whole 

 party, excepting two men, who remained captives during many 

 years. At the Rio Negro I conversed with one of these men, 

 now in extreme old age. 



The zoology of Patagonia is as limited as its Flora.* On 



1 I found here a species of cactus, desoribed by Professor Henslow, under the 

 name of Opuntia Dai-winii [^Magazine of Zoology and Botany, vol. i, p. 466), which 



