224 
TIERRA DEL FUEGO 
CHAP. 
smooth water. The only thing which reminded us of the gale 
outside was every now and then a puff from the mountains, 
which made the ship surge at her anchors. 
December 25 th .—Close by the cove, a pointed hill, called 
Kater’s Peak, rises to the height of 1 700 feet. The surround¬ 
ing islands all consist of conical masses of greenstone, associated 
sometimes with less regular hills of baked and altered clay-slate. 
This part of Tierra del Fuego may be considered as the 
extremity of the submerged chain of mountains already alluded 
to. The cove takes its name of “ Wigwam ” from some of the 
Fuegian habitations ; but every bay in the neighbourhood 
might be so called with equal propriety. The inhabitants, 
living chiefly upon shell-fish, are obliged constantly to change 
their place of residence ; but they return at intervals to the 
same spots, as is evident from the piles of old shells, which 
must often amount to many tons in weight. These heaps can 
be distinguished at a long distance by the bright green colour 
of certain plants, which invariably grow on them. Among 
these may be enumerated the wild celery and scurvy grass, 
two very serviceable plants, the use of which has not been 
discovered by the natives. 
The Fuegian wigwam resembles, in size and dimensions, a 
haycock. It merely consists of a few broken branches stuck in 
the ground, and very imperfectly thatched on one side with a 
few tufts of grass and rushes. The whole cannot be the work of 
an hour, and it is only used for a few days. At Goeree Roads 
I saw a place where one of these naked men had slept, which 
absolutely offered no more cover than the form of a hare. The 
man was evidently living by himself, and York Minster said he 
was “ very bad man,” and that probably he had stolen something. 
On the west coast, however, the wigwams are rather better, for 
they are covered with seal-skins. We were detained here several 
days by the bad weather. The climate is certainly wretched : 
the summer solstice was now past, yet every day snow fell on 
the hills, and in the valleys there was rain, accompanied by sleet. 
The thermometer generally stood about 4 5 °, but in the night 
fell to 38° or 40°. From the damp and boisterous state of the 
atmosphere, not cheered by a gleam of sunshine, one fancied the 
climate even worse than it really was. 
While going one day on shore near Wollaston Island, we 
