THE VOYAGE OF THE BEAGLE 



441 



December 21st. — Early in the morning we entered the Bay 

 of Islands, and being becalmed for some hours near the 

 mouth, we did not reach the anchorage till the middle of the 

 day. The country is hilly, with a smooth outline, and is 

 deeply intersected by numerous arms of the sea extending 

 from the bay. The surface appears from a distance as if 

 clothed with coarse pasture, but this in truth is nothing but 

 fern. On the more distant hills, as well as in parts of the 

 valleys, there is a good deal of woodland. The general tint 

 of the landscape is not a bright green; and it resembles the 

 country a short distance to the south of Concepcion in Chile. 

 In several parts of the bay, little villages of square tidy-look- 

 ing houses are scattered close down to the water's edge. 

 Three whaling-ships were lying at anchor, and a canoe every 

 now and then crossed from shore to shore; with these 

 exceptions, an air of extreme quietness reigned over the 

 whole district. Only a single canoe came alongside. This, 

 and the aspect of the whole scene, afforded a remarkable, 

 and not very pleasing contrast, with our joyful and boisterous 

 welcome at Tahiti. 



In the afternoon we went on shore to one of the larger 

 groups of houses, which yet hardly deserves the title of a 

 village. Its name is Pahia: it is the residence of the mis- 

 sionaries; and there are no native residents except servants 

 and labourers. In the vicinity of the Bay of Islands, the 

 number of Englishmen, including their families, amounts to 

 between two and three hundred. All the cottages, many of 

 which are white- washed and look very neat, are the property 

 of the English. The hovels of the natives are so diminutive 

 and paltry, that they can scarcely be perceived from a dis- 

 tance. At Pahia, it was quite pleasing to behold the En- 

 glish flowers in the gardens before the houses; there were 

 roses of several kinds, honeysuckle, jasmine, stocks, and 

 whole hedges of sweetbrier. 



December 22nd. — In the morning I went out walking; but 

 I soon found that the country was very impracticable. All 

 the hills are thickly covered with tall fern, together with 

 a low bush which grows like a cypress; and very little 

 ground has been cleared or cultivated. I then tried the 

 sea-beach; but proceeding towards either hand, my walk 



