410 



THE POLAR WORLD. 



On the Patagonian plains, the drought and the want of protection against 

 the piercing winds almost entirely impede vegetation ; but the country between 

 Cape Negro — a little within the second Narrows — and Cape Froward, or the 

 eastern shore of Brunswick Peninsula, is shielded by its situation against the 

 almost perpetual storms from the west, and enjoys, moreover, a sufficiency of 

 rain, and now and then serene weather. As, moreover, the soil in this central 

 part of the strait consists of disintegrated clay-slate, which is most favorable to 

 the growth of trees, the forests, from all these causes, are finer here than any- 

 where else. 



The country about Port Famine is particularly distinguished for the rich- 

 ness of its vegetation ; and both for this reason, and from its central situation, 

 this harbor has become a kind of chief station for the ships that pass through 

 the strait. Several unfortunate attempts at colonization have been made at 

 Port Famine ; here many a naturalist has tarried, and thus no part of the 

 strait has been oftener described or more accurately observed. 



"The anchorage," says Dumont d'LTrville, who, in December, 1837, spent 

 several days at Port Famine, " is excellent, and landing everywhere easy. A 

 fine rivulet gives us excellent water, and the neighboring forests might furnish 

 whole fleets with the necessary fuel. The cliffs along the shore are literally 

 covered with mussels, limpets, and whelks, which afford a delicious variety of 

 fare to a crew tired of salt beef arnd peas. Among the plants I noticed with 

 pleasure a species of celery, which, with another herb resembling our corn 

 flower in form and taste, gives promise of an excellent salad. 



" I made use of ray first leisure to visit the romantic banks of the Sedger 

 River, which discharges its waters on the western side of the port. At its 

 m,outh the swampy strand is completely covered with enormous trees heaped 

 upon the ground. These naked giants, stripped of their branches, afford a re- 

 markable spectacle: they might be taken for huge bones bleached by time. 

 No doubt they are transported from the neighboring forest by the waters of 

 the river, which, when it overflows its banks, after a deluge of rain, tears 

 along with it the trees it meets with in its course. Arrested by the bar at the 

 mouth of the stream, they are cast out upon its banks, where they remain 

 when the waters sink to their usual level. 



" Having crossed the river, I entered the large and fine forest with which it 

 is bordered. The chief tree is the Antarctic beech {Fagus hetuloides), which is 

 often from sixty to ninety feet high, and about three feet in diameter. Along 

 with this are two other trees, the winter's bark ( Winteria aromatica), and a 

 species of berberis, with a very solid wood ; but they are much less abundant, 

 and of a much smaller size. With the exception of mosses, lichens, and other 

 plants of this order, these forests afford but little that is interesting to the 

 naturalist — no quadrupeds, no reptiles, no land-snails ; a few insects and some 

 birds are the only specimens to be gained after a long search. After collect- 

 ing a good supply of mosses and lichens, I returned to the boat for the pur- 

 pose of rowing up the river. Although the current was tolerably rapid, we ad- 

 vanced about two miles, admiring the beauty of its umbrageous banks. On 

 my return I shot two geese that were crossing the river over our heads, and 



