May 1829. surprise and cunning of natives. 227 



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 opportimity 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 



