country a forest was destroyed, I do not believe nearly so many species
of animals would perish as would here, from the destruction of the
kelp. Amidst the leaves of this plant numerous species of fish live,
which nowhere else could find food or shelter; with their destruction
the many cormorants and other fishing birds, the otters, seals, and
porpoises, would soon perish also; and lastly, the Fuegian savage, the
miserable lord of this miserable land, would redouble his cannibal
feast, decrease in numbers, and perhaps cease to exist.
June 8th.--We weighed anchor early in the morning and left Port Famine.
Captain Fitz Roy determined to leave the Strait of Magellan by the
Magdalen Channel, which had not long been discovered. Our course lay
due south, down that gloomy passage which I have before alluded to as
appearing to lead to another and worse world. The wind was fair, but
the atmosphere was very thick; so that we missed much curious scenery.
The dark ragged clouds were rapidly driven over the mountains, from
their summits nearly down to their bases. The glimpses which we caught
through the dusky mass were highly interesting; jagged points, cones of
snow, blue glaciers, strong outlines, marked on a lurid sky, were seen
at different distances and heights. In the midst of such scenery we
anchored at Cape Turn, close to Mount Sarmiento, which was then hidden
in the clouds. At the base of the lofty and almost perpendicular sides
of our little cove there was one deserted wigwam, and it alone reminded
us that man sometimes wandered into these desolate regions. But it
would be difficult to imagine a scene where he seemed to have fewer
claims or less authority. The inanimate works of nature--rock, ice,
snow, wind, and water--all warring with each other, yet combined
against man--here reigned in absolute sovereignty.
June 9th.--In the morning we were delighted by seeing the veil of mist
gradually rise from Sarmiento, and display it to our view. This
mountain, which is one of the highest in Tierra del Fuego, has an
altitude of 6800 feet. Its base, for about an eighth of its total
height, is clothed by dusky woods, and above this a field of snow
extends to the summit. These vast piles of snow, which never melt, and
seem destined to last as long as the world holds together, present a
noble and even sublime spectacle. The outline of the mountain was
admirably clear and defined. Owing to the abundance of light reflected
from the white and glittering surface, no shadows were cast on any
part; and those lines which intersected the sky could alone be
226