THE VOYAGE OF THE BEAGLE 



233 



ward ; the men were worn out with fatigue, and they had not 

 had for many nights or days a dry thing to put on. Captain 

 Fitz Roy gave up the attempt to get westward by the outside 

 coast. In the evening we ran in behind False Cape Horn, 

 and dropped our anchor in forty-seven fathoms, fire flashing 

 from the windlass as the chain rushed round it. How de- 

 lightful was that still night, after having been so long in- 

 volved in the din of the warring elements ! 



January 15th, 1833.— The Beagle anchored in Goeree 

 Roads. Captain Fitz Roy having resolved to settle the Fu- 

 egians, according to their wishes, in Ponsonby Sound, four 

 boats were equipped to carry them there through the Beagle 

 Channel. This channel, which was discovered by Captain 

 Fitz Roy during the last voyage, is a most remarkable feature 

 in the geography of this, or indeed of any other country : it 

 may be compared to the valley of Lochness in Scotland, with 

 its chain of lakes and friths. It is about one hundred and 

 twenty miles long, with an average breadth, not subject to 

 any very great variation, of about two miles ; and is through- 

 out the greater part so perfectly straight, that the view, 

 bounded on each side by a line of mountains, gradually be- 

 comes indistinct in the long distance. It crosses the south- 

 ern part of Tierra del Fuego in an east and west line, and 

 in the middle is joined at right angles on the south side by 

 an irregular channel, which has been called Ponsonby Sound. 

 This is the residence of Jemmy Button's tribe and family. 



ipth. — Three whale-boats and the yawl, with a party of 

 twenty-eight, started under the command of Captain Fitz 

 Roy. In the afternoon we entered the eastern mouth of the 

 channel, and shortly afterwards found a snug little cove 

 concealed by some surrounding islets. Here we pitched our 

 tents and lighted our fires. Nothing could look more com- 

 fortable than this scene. The glassy water of the little har- 

 bour, with the branches of the trees hanging over the rocky 

 beach, the boats at anchor, the tents supported by the crossed 

 oars, and the smoke curling up the wooded valley, formed a 

 picture of quiet retirement. The next day (20th) we smooth- 

 ly glided onwards in our little fleet, and came to a more in- 

 habited district. Few if any of these natives could ever 

 have seen a white man ; certainly nothing could exceed their 



