Reaching this at length, they get a scenic view of "Fireland," grander than any yet revealed to them. Mountains to the north, mountains to the south, east, and west; mountains piled on mountains all around, of every form and alt.i.tude. There are domes, cones, and pyramids; ridges with terraced sides and table-tops; peaks, spires, and castellated pinnacles, some of them having resemblance to artificial masonwork, as if of t.i.tans! In the midst of this picturesque conglomeration, towering conspicuously above all, as a giant over ordinary men, is the snow-cone of Mount Darwin, on the opposite side of the strait, fit mate for Sarmiento, seen in the same range, north-westward. Intersecting the mountain chains, and trending in every direction, are deep ravine-like valleys, some with sloping sides thickly-wooded, others presenting facades of sheer cliffs, with rocks bare and black. Most of them are narrow, dark, and dismal, save where illumined by glaciers, from whose glistening surface of milky-white and beryl-blue the sun's rays are vividly reflected. Nor are they valleys at all, but are arms of the sea, straits, sounds, channels, bays, inlets, many of them with water as deep as the ocean itself. Of every conceivable shape and trend are they; so ramifying and communicating with one another, that Tierra del Fuego, long supposed to be a mainland, is but an archipelago of islands closely cl.u.s.tered together.

From their high point of view on the ridge's crest, the castaways see a reach of water wider than the sea-arm immediately beneath them, of which, however, it is a continuation. It extends eastward beyond the verge of vision, all the way straight as an artificial ca.n.a.l, and so like one in other ways as to suggest the idea of having been dug by the same t.i.tans who did the masonwork on the mountains. It occupies the entire attention of Seagriff, who, looking along it toward the east, at length says, "Thet's the Beagle Channel; the way we were to hev gone but fur the swampin' of our boat. An' to think we'd 'a' been runnin' 'long it now, 'nstead o' stannin' helpless hyar! Jest our luck!"

To his bitter reflection no one makes response. Captain Gancy is too busy with his binocular, examining the sh.o.r.es of the sea-arm, while the others, fatigued by their long arduous climb, are seated upon rocks at some distance off, resting.

After a time the skipper, re-slinging his gla.s.s, makes known the result of his observation, saying, "I can see nothing of the canoes anywhere.

Probably they've put into some other cove along sh.o.r.e to the westward.

At all events, we may as well keep on down."

And down they go, the descent proving quicker and easier than the ascent. Not that the path is less steep or beset with fewer obstructions, but their tumbles are now all in the right direction, with no backward slidings. Forward falls they have and many; every now and then a wild up-throwing of arms ends with a fall at full length upon the face. They succeed, however, in reaching the water's edge again without serious injury received by any, though all are looking very wet, draggled, and dirty.

At the place where they have now reached the beach, there is a slight curving indentation in the sh.o.r.e-line; not enough to be called a bay, nor to interfere with their chance of being seen by any ship that may pa.s.s along the strait. It might be supposed they would choose the most conspicuous point for their new encampment. But their choice is influenced by other considerations; chief of these being the fact that near the centre of the curve they find a spot altogether suited to their purpose--a little platform, high and dry, itself clear of trees, but surrounded and sheltered by them.

That they are not the first human beings to set foot on it is evinced by the skeleton of a wigwam found standing there, while on the beach below is a heap of sh.e.l.ls recognisable as a "kitchen midden." [Note 1.]

These evidences of former occupancy also proclaim it of old date. The floor of the wigwam is overgrown with gra.s.s and weeds, while the sh.e.l.l-heap is also covered with greenery, the growth upon it being wild celery and scurvy-gra.s.s, two species of plants that give promise of future utility. Like promise is there in another object near at hand--a bed of kelp, off sh.o.r.e, just opposite, marking a reef, the rocks of which will evidently be bare at ebb-tide. From this sh.e.l.l-fish may be taken, as they have been before, being, no doubt, the _raison d'etre_ of the wigwam and "kitchen midden."

In addition to these advantages, the beech-apples and berries are as plentiful here as at the encampment in the cove, with still another species found not far-off. At the western extremity of the indentation a slightly elevated ridge projects out into the water, treeless, but overgrown with bushes of low stature, which are thickly covered with what at a distance appear to be bunches of red blossoms, but on closer inspection prove to be berries--_cranberries_.

_Per contra_ to all these advantages, other indications about the place are not so pleasing. The wigwam tells of their still being in the territory of the hostile tribe from which they so miraculously escaped.

"Ailikoleep!" is the exclamation of Seagriff, as soon as he sets eyes on it; "we're in the country o' the rascally savagers yit!"

"How do you know that?" inquires the skipper.

"By the build o' thet wigwam, an' the bulk of it. Ez ye see, it's roun'-topped, whereas them o' the Tekineekers, an' other Feweegins, run up to a sharp p'int, besides bein' bigger an' roomier. Thar's another sign, too, of its bein' Ailikoleep. They kiver thar wigwams wi'

seal-skins, 'stead o' gra.s.s, which the Tekineekas use. Ef this hed been thatched wi' gra.s.s, we'd see some o' the rubbish inside, an' the floor 'd be hollered out--which it's not. Yes, the folks that squatted hyar hev been Ailikoleeps. But 'tain't no surprise to me, ez I heern some words pa.s.s 'mong the fishin' party, which show'd 'em to be thet same.

Wal," he continues, more hopefully, "thar's one good thing: they haven't set fut on this groun' fur a long while, which air some airnest o' thar hevin' gi'n the place up fur good. Those dead woods tell o' thar last doin's about hyar."

He points to some trees standing near, dead, and with most of the bark stripped from their trunks.

"They've peeled 'em fur patchin' thar canoes, an' by the look of it, thet barkin' was done more'n three years ago."

What he says does little to restore confidence. The fact of the fishing party having been Ailikoleeps is too sure evidence that danger is still impending. And such danger! It only needs recalling the late attack-- the fiendish aspect of the savages, with their furious shouts and gestures, the darting of javelins and hurling of stones--to fully realise what it is. With that fearful episode fresh in their thoughts, the castaways require no further counsel to make them cautious in their future movements.

The first of them is the pitching their tent, which is set up so as to be screened from view of any canoe pa.s.sing along the sea-arm; and for their better accommodation, the wigwam is re-roofed, as it, too, is invisible from the water. No fire is to be made during daylight, lest its smoke should betray them; and when kindled at night for cooking purposes, it must be done within the wood, whence not a glimmer of it may escape outward. A lookout is to be constantly kept through the gla.s.s by one or another taking it in turns, to look out, not alone for enemies, but for friends--for that ship which they still hope may come along the Beagle Channel.

Note 1. These sh.e.l.l-heaps, or "kitchen middens," are a feature of Fuegian scenery. They are usually found wherever there is a patch of sh.o.r.e level enough to land upon; but the beach opposite a bed of kelp is the place where the largest are met with. In such situations the skeletons of old wigwams are also encountered, as the Fuegians, on deserting them, always leave them standing, probably from some superst.i.tious feeling.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

BY THE "KITCHEN MIDDEN."

The programme determined on is carried out to the letter. But as the days pa.s.s, and no ship appears, their impatience becomes despondency-- almost despair. Yet this is for the best, as it strengthens a resolution already in their thoughts, but not finally decided upon.

This is to build a boat. Nor, in this case, is necessity--mother of invention--the sole impelling influence. Other circ.u.mstances aid in suggesting the scheme, because they favour its execution. There is timber in plenty on the spot, needing only to be hewn into shape and put together. The oars, mast, and sail are already on hand; but, above all, Chips is a ship's carpenter, capable of turning out any sort of craft, from a dinghy to the biggest of long-boats.

All these advantages taken into account, the task is set about without further hesitation, and hopefully. A great drawback, however, is their not being provided with proper tools. They have only a common wood-axe, a hand-saw, hammer, auger, and their sailor-knives; nor would they be so well off but for having had them on sh.o.r.e during their brief sojourn in the cove. Other tools left in the gig are doubtless in her still.

Doing their best with those on hand, the axe is first brought into play, the negro being the one to wield it. In early life he has cut down many a tree on the banks of the Mississippi, hundreds bigger than any to be found in the Fuegian forests. So with a confident air he attacks the tree which Seagriff points out to be felled first, saying, "Dis n.i.g.g.e.r fetch it down quick as de shake ob a nanny-goat's tail, see if him don't."

And he proceeds to confirm his boast by a vigorous a.s.sault upon the tree, a beech, one of those that have been barked. This circ.u.mstance, too, is in their favour, and saves them time, for the barked trees having been long dead, their timber is now dry and seasoned, ready for working up at once. But caution is called for in selecting those to be cut down. Were they taken indiscriminately, much of Caesar's labour might be thrown away; for, as has been said, many of the trees are heart-decayed, without showing outward sign of it, the result of an ever-humid atmosphere. Aware of this, Chips tries each one by tapping it with the auger before Caesar lays his axe to it. [Note 1.]

For days after, the chipping strokes of the axe, with the duller thuds of wood mallets on wedges, awaken echoes in the Fuegian forest such as may never have been heard there before. When felled, the trunks are cut to the proper length, and then split into rough planks by means of wedges, and are afterwards smoothed with the knives.

With such insufficient tools, the work is necessarily slow, and is still further r.e.t.a.r.ded by another requirement, food, which has meanwhile to be procured. The supply, however, proves less precarious than was antic.i.p.ated, the kelp-bed yielding an unlimited amount of sh.e.l.l-fish.

Daily at ebb-tide, when the rocks are uncovered, the two youths swim out to it and bring off a good number of limpets and mussels; they also continue to catch other fish, and now and then a calf seal is clubbed, which affords a change of diet, a delicate one, too, the fry of the young seal being equal to that of lamb. The scurvy-gra.s.s and wild celery, moreover, enable "the doctor" to turn out more than one variety of soup.

But for the still pervading fear of a visit from the savages, and other anxieties about the future, their existence would be tolerable, if not enjoyable. It is in no way monotonous, constant work in the construction of the boat, with other tasks, securing them against that; and, in such intervals of leisure as they have, kind Nature here, as elsewhere, treats them to many a curious spectacle. One is afforded by the "steamer-duck," [Note 2] a bird of commonest occurrence in Fuegian waters; it is of the genera of Oceanic ducks or geese, having affinity with both. It is of gigantic size, specimens having been taken over three feet in length and weighing thirty pounds. It has an enormous head--hence one of its names, Loggerhead duck--with a hard powerful beak for smashing open the sh.e.l.ls of molluscs, which form its princ.i.p.al food.

Its wings are so short and weak that flight in the air is denied it.

Still it uses them effectually in flapping, which, aided by the beating of its broad webbed feet, upon stout legs set far back on the body, enables it to skim over the surface of the water at the rate of fifteen miles an hour! In its progress, says Darwin, "it makes such a noise and splashing that the effect is exceedingly curious." The great naturalist further states that he is "nearly sure the steamer-duck moves its wings alternately, instead of both together, as other birds move theirs." It is needless to say that it is from this propulsion by its wings, like the paddles of a steam-vessel, that the bird has derived the name by which it is now best known. But it has even yet another, or had in those days when steam was unknown, the old navigators of Narborough's time calling it the Racehorse, by reason of its swiftness. A flock habitually frequents the kelp-bed, so that the boat-builders have them almost continuously before their eyes, and derive amus.e.m.e.nt from watching their odd ways and movements; listening also to the strange sounds that proceed from them. At ebb-tide, when the rocks are above water, the steamers a.s.semble on them, and, having finished their repast of sh.e.l.l-fish, sit pluming themselves, all the while giving utterance to a chorus of noises that more resembles the croaking of bull-frogs than the calling of birds. They are shy notwithstanding, both difficult to approach and hard to kill, the last on account of their strong bony skulls and dense coat of feathers. But no one much cares to kill them; their flesh tasting so rank and fishy, that the man must be hungry who could eat, much less relish it. Withal, sailors who have been for months on a diet of "salt junk," not only eat, but p.r.o.nounce it highly palatable.

Seals are observed every day; on one occasion a seal-mother giving a curious display of maternal solicitude in teaching her calf to swim.

First taking hold of it by the flipper, and for a while supporting it above water, with a shove she sends the youngster adrift, leaving it to shift for itself. In a short time the little creature becomes exhausted; she takes a fresh grip on its flipper, and again supports it till it has recovered breath, after which there is another push off, followed by a new attempt to swim, the same process being several times repeated to the end of the lesson.

A still rarer and more remarkable spectacle is furnished by a couple of whales. One calm clear morning, with the water of the strait waveless and smooth as a mirror, two of these grand cetaceans are seen swimming along, one in the wake of the other, and so close in sh.o.r.e that they might almost be reached with the boat-hook. As they swim past the spot where the boat-builders are at work, they, from their elevated position, can look down on their spout-holes, and even see them wink! The huge creatures, slowly gliding on, pa.s.s under a beech-tree growing by the water's edge, so near that their heads are almost brushed by its drooping branches. While still beneath it one of them blows, sending aloft a spout that, returning in a shower of spray, falls upon the leaves with a pattering as of heavy rain.

Soon after, sheering off into mid-channel, and continuing their course, they blow again and again, each steam-like spray, with the sun upon it, showing like a silvery cloud, which hangs in the air for more than a minute ere becoming altogether dissipated.

The marine monsters have come along the arm from the west, and are proceeding eastward--no doubt making the traverse from ocean to ocean, in the same direction as the castaways propose to go, if permitted to finish their boat. But will they be permitted? That is the ever-recurring question, and constant cause of uneasiness. Their anxiety about it becomes even keener as the time pa.s.ses, and their task draws nearer completion. For, although weeks have now elapsed since the departure of the fishing party, and nothing more has been seen of them or any other savages, nor have any fires been visible at night, nor any smoke by day--still the Fuegians may appear at any moment; and their fears on this score are not diminished by what Seagriff says in giving the probable reason for their non-appearance:

"I guess they've gone out seaward, along the west coast, seal-huntin'.

The old seals are tamer at this seezun then any other, an' easier stolen upon. But the year's on the turn now, an' winter's settin' in; therefur, we may look out any minute for the ugly critters comin' soon.

Ef we only hed the boat finished an' afloat! How I wish she was in the water now!"

As all wish the same, there is no relaxation of effort to bring about the desired end. On the contrary, his words inspire them to renewed energy for hastening its accomplishment.

Alas! all to no purpose. One morning at daybreak, while on the lookout with his gla.s.s, Captain Gancy sees coming eastward, along the arm, a fleet of canoes crowded with people, to all appearance the same craft encountered in Whale-boat Sound.

Believing that they are the same, he cries out in a voice that quivers, despite his efforts to keep it firm, "There they are at last! Heaven have mercy on us!"

Note 1. Nearly all the larger trees in the Fuegian forests have the heartwood decayed, and are worthless as timber. Out of fifteen cut down by Captain King's surveying party, near Port Famine, more than half proved to be rotten at the heart.

Note 2. The _Micropterus brachypterus_ of Quoy and Guimard. The "steamer-duck" is a feature almost peculiar to the inland Fuegian waters, and has always been a bird of note among sailors, like the "Cape pigeons" and "Mother Carey's chickens." There is another and smaller species, called the "flying steamer," as it is able to mount into the air. It is called by naturalists _Micropterus Patachonica_.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

UNWELCOME VISITORS.

"There they are at last! Heaven have mercy on us!" At these grave words, more fear-inspiring from being spoken by Captain Gancy, work is instantly suspended, the boat-builders dropping their tools as though they burned the hands that grasped them.

For some minutes the alarm runs high, all thinking their last hour is at hand. How can they think otherwise, with their eyes bent on those black objects, which, though but as specks in the far distance, grow bigger while they stand gazing at them, and which they know to be canoes full of cruel cannibal savages? For they have no doubt that the approaching natives are the Ailikoleeps. The old Ailikoleep wigwam, and the fact that the party that so lately visited the cove were of this tribe, make it evident that this is Ailikoleep fishing-ground, while the canoes now approaching seem to correspond in number with those of the party that a.s.sailed them. If they be the same, and if they should come on sh.o.r.e by the kitchen midden, then small hope of more boat-building, and, as is only too likely, small hope of life for the builders.