FROM YOKOHAMA TO VALPARAISO. 
182 
for a ramble, though his pranks sometimes threatened to bring me into trouble. He would 
walk into every shop, his size and boisterous gambols causing consternation among the 
Chinamen behind the counter; or he would stop in rapt amazement before a butcher s shop, 
where the display of so many choice morsels—a sight wholly unknown at Kerguelen or Heard 
Island—must have been to him what a picture-gallery is to a lover of art, or a library of rare 
volumes to the bibliophile. One day, as I was sketching the group of islands south of Hong¬ 
kong, he, being tired of waiting, deliberately laid his paw on my sketch-book, an intimation 
of his opinion that it was fully time to return home. To the numerous zoological curiosities 
on board were added subsequently a pair of turtles from the Galapagos Islands, handed over 
to us at Valparaiso, and which, on the return of the Expedition to England, were sent to 
the Zoological Gardens in Regent’s Park. While at sea, they were allowed to take an 
occasional airing on the main deck; at such times a slight shuffling noise more than once 
attracted attention, when, on looking down, the writer saw one of these lethargic creatures 
slowly making its way over the door-step into the cabin. An ostrich, shipped at Monte 
Video, showed a remarkable propensity for pecking at “ Sam’s ” brilliant eyes—conduct which 
the latter, on one occasion, so far resented as nearly to sever the bird’s head from its neck 
by an angry snap. 
We left Cumberland Bay in the afternoon of the 15th. The wind was still against 
us, and although the distance between Juan Fernandez and the coast of Chili is only about 
350 nautical miles, land was not sighted until late on the 18th, when off Topocalma Head, 
about 80 miles to the southward of Valparaiso. Getting up steam, we proceeded along the 
coast during the night, and with daybreak the entrance to the long-wished-for port could be 
discovered from the deck. Shortly after 10 a.m. on the 19th, we cast anchor in the fine 
Bay of Valparaiso, near “ La Gasillonidre,” the flag-ship of the French Admiral on the Pacific 
station. As we came close to her, the French ship’s band struck up the English national 
air, followed by the favourite Tahitian melody, it being known that we had last sailed from 
that island. Another French man-of-war, the “ Dayot,” and several Chilian war-vessels, also 
lay in the harbour. 
The town of Valparaiso rises in amphitheatrical form round the steep shores of the 
bay, and has an imposing appearance—not less so at night, when numerous lamps produce 
the effect of a general illumination. The lower part of the town, containing several fine 
streets, public buildings, and open spaces adorned with trees and fountains, is built upon a 
narrow strip of land between the sea and the hills ; while the upper part straggles in 
picturesque confusion through the steep ravines which converge in all directions towards 
the harbour. 
Here, as in other regions subject to earthquakes and volcanic disturbances, I could 
not help being struck by the confidence with which the inhabitants build their houses and 
towns upon ground which they know may at any moment be covered with a torrent of lava 
or overwhelmed by the sea. An earthquake-wave, such as has frequently laid low the towns 
situated on this coast, would in a few minutes destroy the best part of the city of Valparaiso,. 
