CHAPTER XI
STRAIT OF MAGELLAN. -- CLIMATE OF THE SOUTHERN COASTS
Strait of Magellan -- Port Famine -- Ascent of Mount Tarn --
Forests -- Edible Fungus -- Zoology -- Great Sea-weed -- Leave
Tierra del Fuego -- Climate -- Fruit-trees and Productions
of the Southern Coasts -- Height of Snow-line on the
Cordillera -- Descent of Glaciers to the Sea -- Icebergs
formed -- Transportal of Boulders -- Climate and Productions
of the Antarctic Islands -- Preservation of Frozen Carcasses --
Recapitulation.
IN THE end of May, 1834, we entered for a second time
the eastern mouth of the Strait of Magellan. The country
on both sides of this part of the Strait consists of
nearly level plains, like those of Patagonia. Cape Negro, a
little within the second Narrows, may be considered as the
point where the land begins to assume the marked features
of Tierra del Fuego. On the east coast, south of the Strait,
broken park-like scenery in a like manner connects these two
countries, which are opposed to each other in almost every
feature. It is truly surprising to find in a space of twenty
miles such a change in the landscape. If we take a rather
greater distance, as between Port Famine and Gregory Bay,
that is about sixty miles, the difference is still more
wonderful. At the former place, we have rounded mountains
concealed by impervious forests, which are drenched with the
rain, brought by an endless succession of gales; while at
Cape Gregory, there is a clear and bright blue sky over the
dry and sterile plains. The atmospheric currents, [1] although
rapid, turbulent, and unconfined by any apparent limits, yet
seem to follow, like a river in its bed, a regularly determined
course.
During our previous visit (in January), we had an interview
at Cape Gregory with the famous so-called gigantic
Patagonians, who gave us a cordial reception. Their height
appears greater than it really is, from their large guanaco
mantles, their long flowing hair, and general figure: on an
average, their height is about six feet, with some men taller
and only a few shorter; and the women are also tall; altogether
they are certainly the tallest race which we anywhere
saw. In features they strikingly resemble the more northern
Indians whom I saw with Rosas, but they have a wilder and
more formidable appearance: their faces were much painted
with red and black, and one man was ringed and dotted with
white like a Fuegian. Captain Fitz Roy offered to take any
three of them on board, and all seemed determined to be of
the three. It was long before we could clear the boat; at
last we got on board with our three giants, who dined with
the Captain, and behaved quite like gentlemen, helping
themselves with knives, forks, and spoons: nothing was so much
relished as sugar. This tribe has had so much communication
with sealers and whalers that most of the men can speak a
little English and Spanish; and they are half civilized, and
proportionally demoralized.
The next morning a large party went on shore, to barter
for skins and ostrich-feathers; fire-arms being refused,
tobacco was in greatest request, far more so than axes or
tools. The whole population of the toldos, men, women, and
children, were arranged on a bank. It was an amusing
scene, and it was impossible not to like the so-called giants,
they were so thoroughly good-humoured and unsuspecting:
they asked us to come again. They seem to like to have
Europeans to live with them; and old Maria, an important
woman in the tribe, once begged Mr. Low to leave any one
of his sailors with them. They spend the greater part of the
year here; but in summer they hunt along the foot of the
Cordillera: sometimes they travel as far as the Rio Negro
750 miles to the north. They are well stocked with horses,
each man having, according to Mr. Low, six or seven, and
all the women, and even children, their one own horse. In
the time of Sarmiento (1580), these Indians had bows and
arrows, now long since disused; they then also possessed
some horses. This is a very curious fact, showing the
extraordinarily rapid multiplication of horses in South America.
The horse was first landed at Buenos Ayres in 1537, and the
colony being then for a time deserted, the horse ran wild; [2]
in 1580, only forty-three years afterwards, we hear of them at
the Strait of Magellan! Mr. Low informs me, that a neighbouring
tribe of foot-Indians is now changing into horse-Indians:
the tribe at Gregory Bay giving them their worn-out horses,
and sending in winter a few of their best skilled men to hunt
for them.
June 1st. -- We anchored in the fine bay of Port Famine.
It was now the beginning of winter, and I never saw a more
cheerless prospect; the dusky woods, piebald with snow,
could be only seen indistinctly, through a drizzling hazy
atmosphere. We were, however, lucky in getting two fine
days. On one of these, Mount Sarmiento, a distant mountain
6800 feet high, presented a very noble spectacle. I was
frequently surprised in the scenery of Tierra del Fuego, at the
little apparent elevation of mountains really lofty. I suspect
it is owing to a cause which would not at first be imagined,
namely, that the whole mass, from the summit to the water's
edge, is generally in full view. I remember having seen a
mountain, first from the Beagle Channel, where the whole
sweep from the summit to the base was full in view, and then
from Ponsonby Sound across several successive ridges; and
it was curious to observe in the latter case, as each fresh
ridge afforded fresh means of judging of the distance, how
the mountain rose in height.
Before reaching Port Famine, two men were seen running
along the shore and hailing the ship. A boat was sent for
them. They turned out to be two sailors who had run away
from a sealing-vessel, and had joined the Patagonians. These
Indians had treated them with their usual disinterested
hospitality. They had parted company through accident, and
were then proceeding to Port Famine in hopes of finding
some ship. I dare say they were worthless vagabonds, but I
never saw more miserable-looking ones. They had been living
for some days on mussel-shells and berries, and their
tattered clothes had been burnt by sleeping so near their fires.
They had been exposed night and day, without any shelter,
to the late incessant gales, with rain, sleet, and snow, and yet
they were in good health.
During our stay at Port Famine, the Fuegians twice came
and plagued us. As there were many instruments, clothes,
and men on shore, it was thought necessary to frighten them
away. The first time a few great guns were fired, when they
were far distant. It was most ludicrous to watch through a
glass the Indians, as often as the shot struck the water, take
up stones, and, as a bold defiance, throw them towards the
ship, though about a mile and a half distant! A boat was
sent with orders to fire a few musket-shots wide of them.
The Fuegians hid themselves behind the trees, and for every
discharge of the muskets they fired their arrows; all, however,
fell short of the boat, and the officer as he pointed at
them laughed. This made the Fuegians frantic with passion,
and they shook their mantles in vain rage. At last, seeing
the balls cut and strike the trees, they ran away, and we were
left in peace and quietness. During the former voyage the
Fuegians were here very troublesome, and to frighten them a
rocket was fired at night over their wigwams; it answered
effectually, and one of the officers told me that the clamour
first raised, and the barking of the dogs, was quite ludicrous
in contrast with the profound silence which in a minute or
two afterwards prevailed. The next morning not a single
Fuegian was in the neighbourhood.
When the Beagle was here in the month of February, I
started one morning at four o'clock to ascend Mount Tarn,
which is 2600 feet high, and is the most elevated point in this
immediate district. We went in a boat to the foot of the
mountain (but unluckily not to the best part), and then
began our ascent. The forest commences at the line of high-
water mark, and during the first two hours I gave over all
hopes of reaching the summit. So thick was the wood, that
it was necessary to have constant recourse to the compass;
for every landmark, though in a mountainous country, was
completely shut out. In the deep ravines, the death-like
scene of desolation exceeded all description; outside it was
blowing a gale, but in these hollows, not even a breath of
wind stirred the leaves of the tallest trees. So gloomy, cold,
and wet was every part, that not even the fungi, mosses, or
ferns could flourish. In the valleys it was scarcely possible
to crawl along, they were so completely barricaded by great
mouldering trunks, which had fallen down in every direction.
When passing over these natural bridges, one's course was
often arrested by sinking knee deep into the rotten wood; at
other times, when attempting to lean against a firm tree, one
was startled by finding a mass of decayed matter ready to
fall at the slightest touch. We at last found ourselves among
the stunted trees, and then soon reached the bare ridge, which
conducted us to the summit. Here was a view characteristic
of Tierra del Fuego; irregular chains of hills, mottled with
patches of snow, deep yellowish-green valleys, and arms of
the sea intersecting the land in many directions. The strong
wind was piercingly cold, and the atmosphere rather hazy, so
that we did not stay long on the top of the mountain. Our
descent was not quite so laborious as our ascent, for the
weight of the body forced a passage, and all the slips and
falls were in the right direction.
I have already mentioned the sombre and dull character of
the evergreen forests, [3] in which two or three species of
trees grow, to the exclusion of all others. Above the forest
land, there are many dwarf alpine plants, which all spring
from the mass of peat, and help to compose it: these plants
are very remarkable from their close alliance with the species
growing on the mountains of Europe, though so many thousand
miles distant. The central part of Tierra del Fuego, where the
clay-slate formation occurs, is most favourable to the growth
of trees; on the outer coast the poorer granitic soil, and a
situation more exposed to the violent winds, do not allow of
their attaining any great size. Near Port Famine I have seen
more large trees than anywhere else: I measured a Winter's
Bark which was four feet six inches in girth, and several of
the beech were as much as thirteen feet. Captain King also
mentions a beech which was seven feet in diameter, seventeen
feet above the roots.
There is one vegetable production deserving notice from
its importance as an article of food to the Fuegians. It is a
globular, bright-yellow fungus, which grows in vast numbers
on the beech-trees. When young it is elastic and turgid, with
[picture]
a smooth surface; but when mature it shrinks, becomes tougher,
and has its entire surface deeply pitted or honey-combed,
as represented in the accompanying wood-cut. This fungus
belongs to a new and curious genus, [4] I found a second
species on another species of beech in Chile: and Dr. Hooker
informs me, that just lately a third species has been discovered
on a third species of beech in Van Diernan's Land. How singular
is this relationship between parasitical fungi and the trees
on which they grow, in distant parts of the world! In Tierra
del Fuego the fungus in its tough and mature state is collected
in large quantities by the women and children, and is eaten
un-cooked. It has a mucilaginous, slightly sweet taste, with
a faint smell like that of a mushroom. With the exception of
a few berries, chiefly of a dwarf arbutus, the natives eat
no vegetable food besides this fungus. In New Zealand,
before the introduction of the potato, the roots of the fern
were largely consumed; at the present time, I believe, Tierra
del Fuego is the only country in the world where a cryptogamic
plant affords a staple article of food.
The zoology of Tierra del Fuego, as might have been
expected from the nature of its climate and vegetation, is
very poor. Of mammalia, besides whales and seals, there is
one bat, a kind of mouse (Reithrodon chinchilloides), two
true mice, a ctenomys allied to or identical with the tucutuco,
two foxes (Canis Magellanicus and C. Azarae), a sea-otter,
the guanaco, and a deer. Most of these animals inhabit only
the drier eastern parts of the country; and the deer has never
been seen south of the Strait of Magellan. Observing the
general correspondence of the cliffs of soft sandstone, mud,
and shingle, on the opposite sides of the Strait, and on some
intervening islands, one is strongly tempted to believe that the
land was once joined, and thus allowed animals so delicate
and helpless as the tucutuco and Reithrodon to pass over.
The correspondence of the cliffs is far from proving any
junction; because such cliffs generally are formed by the
intersection of sloping deposits, which, before the elevation
of the land, had been accumulated near the then existing
shores. It is, however, a remarkable coincidence, that in the
two large islands cut off by the Beagle Channel from the
rest of Tierra del Fuego, one has cliffs composed of matter
that may be called stratified alluvium, which front similar
ones on the opposite side of the channel, -- while the other is
exclusively bordered by old crystalline rocks: in the former,
called Navarin Island, both foxes and guanacos occur; but in
the latter, Hoste Island, although similar in every respect,
and only separated by a channel a little more than half a mile
wide, I have the word of Jemmy Button for saying that
neither of these animals are found.
The gloomy woods are inhabited by few birds: occasionally
the plaintive note of a white-tufted tyrant-flycatcher
(Myiobius albiceps) may be heard, concealed near the summit
of the most lofty trees; and more rarely the loud strange
cry of a black wood-pecker, with a fine scarlet crest on its
head. A little, dusky-coloured wren (Scytalopus Magellanicus)
hops in a skulking manner among the entangled mass
of the fallen and decaying trunks. But the creeper (Oxyurus
tupinieri) is the commonest bird in the country. Throughout
the beech forests, high up and low down, in the most
gloomy, wet, and impenetrable ravines, it may be met with.
This little bird no doubt appears more numerous than it
really is, from its habit of following with seeming curiosity
any person who enters these silent woods: continually uttering
a harsh twitter, it flutters from tree to tree, within a few
feet of the intruder's face. It is far from wishing for the
modest concealment of the true creeper (Certhia familiaris);
nor does it, like that bird, run up the trunks of trees, but
industriously, after the manner of a willow-wren, hops about,
and searches for insects on every twig and branch. In the
more open parts, three or four species of finches, a thrush,
a starling (or Icterus), two Opetiorhynchi, and several hawks
and owls occur.
The absence of any species whatever in the whole class of
Reptiles, is a marked feature in the zoology of this country,
as well as in that of the Falkland Islands. I do not ground
this statement merely on my own observation, but I heard it
from the Spanish inhabitants of the latter place, and from
Jemmy Button with regard to Tierra del Fuego. On the
banks of the Santa Cruz, in 50 degs. south, I saw a frog; and
it is not improbable that these animals, as well as lizards, may
be found as far south as the Strait of Magellan, where the
country retains the character of Patagonia; but within the
damp and cold limit of Tierra del Fuego not one occurs.
That the climate would not have suited some of the orders,
such as lizards, might have been foreseen; but with respect
to frogs, this was not so obvious.
Beetles occur in very small numbers: it was long before I
could believe that a country as large as Scotland, covered
with vegetable productions and with a variety of stations,
could be so unproductive. The few which I found were
alpine species (Harpalidae and Heteromidae) living under
stones. The vegetable-feeding Chrysomelidae, so eminently
characteristic of the Tropics, are here almost entirely
absent; [5] I saw very few flies, butterflies, or bees, and no
crickets or Orthoptera. In the pools of water I found but a few
aquatic beetles, and not any fresh-water shells: Succinea at
first appears an exception; but here it must be called a
terrestrial shell, for it lives on the damp herbage far from the
water. Land-shells could be procured only in the same alpine
situations with the beetles. I have already contrasted the
climate as well as the general appearance of Tierra del
Fuego with that of Patagonia; and the difference is strongly
exemplified in the entomology. I do not believe they have
one species in common; certainly the general character of the
insects is widely different.
If we turn from the land to the sea, we shall find the latter
as abundantly stocked with living creatures as the former is
poorly so. In all parts of the world a rocky and partially
protected shore perhaps supports, in a given space, a greater
number of individual animals than any other station. There
is one marine production which, from its importance, is
worthy of a particular history. It is the kelp, or Macrocystis
pyrifera. This plant grows on every rock from low-water
mark to a great depth, both on the outer coast and within the
channels. [6] I believe, during the voyages of the Adventure
and Beagle, not one rock near the surface was discovered
which was not buoyed by this floating weed. The good service
it thus affords to vessels navigating near this stormy
land is evident; and it certainly has saved many a one from
being wrecked. I know few things more surprising than to
see this plant growing and flourishing amidst those great
breakers of the western ocean, which no mass of rock, let it
be ever so hard, can long resist. The stem is round, slimy,
and smooth, and seldom has a diameter of so much as an
inch. A few taken together are sufficiently strong to support
the weight of the large loose stones, to which in the inland
channels they grow attached; and yet some of these stones
were so heavy that when drawn to the surface, they could
scarcely be lifted into a boat by one person. Captain Cook,
in his second voyage, says, that this plant at Kerguelen Land
rises from a greater depth than twenty-four fathoms; "and
as it does not grow in a perpendicular direction, but makes a
very acute angle with the bottom, and much of it afterwards
spreads many fathoms on the surface of the sea, I am well
warranted to say that some of it grows to the length of sixty
fathoms and upwards." I do not suppose the stem of any
other plant attains so great a length as three hundred and
sixty feet, as stated by Captain Cook. Captain Fitz Roy,
moreover, found it growing [7] up from the greater depth of
forty-five fathoms. The beds of this sea-weed, even when
of not great breadth, make excellent natural floating
breakwaters. It is quite curious to see, in an exposed harbour,
how soon the waves from the open sea, as they travel through
the straggling stems, sink in height, and pass into smooth
water.
The number of living creatures of all Orders, whose existence
intimately depends on the kelp, is wonderful. A great
volume might be written, describing the inhabitants of one
of these beds of sea-weed. Almost all the leaves, excepting
those that float on the surface, are so thickly incrusted with
corallines as to be of a white colour. We find exquisitely
delicate structures, some inhabited by simple hydra-like
polypi, others by more organized kinds, and beautiful compound
Ascidiae. On the leaves, also, various patelliform shells,
Trochi, uncovered molluscs, and some bivalves are attached.
Innumerable crustacea frequent every part of the plant. On
shaking the great entangled roots, a pile of small fish, shells,
cuttle-fish, crabs of all orders, sea-eggs, star-fish, beautiful
Holuthuriae, Planariae, and crawling nereidous animals of a
multitude of forms, all fall out together. Often as I recurred
to a branch of the kelp, I never failed to discover animals
of new and curious structures. In Chiloe, where the kelp
does not thrive very well, the numerous shells, corallines, and
crustacea are absent; but there yet remain a few of the
Flustraceae, and some compound Ascidiae; the latter, however,
are of different species from those in Tierra del Fuego:
we see here the fucus possessing a wider range than the animals
which use it as an abode. I can only compare these
great aquatic forests of the southern hemisphere with the
terrestrial ones in the intertropical regions. Yet if in any
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 distinguished: hence the mass
stood out in the boldest relief. Several glaciers descended in
a winding course from the upper great expanse of snow to
the sea-coast: they may be likened to great frozen Niagaras;
and perhaps these cataracts of blue ice are full as beautiful
as the moving ones of water. By night we reached the western
part of the channel; but the water was so deep that no
anchorage could be found. We were in consequence obliged
to stand off and on in this narrow arm of the sea, during a
pitch-dark night of fourteen hours long.
June 10th. -- In the morning we made the best of our way
into the open Pacific. The western coast generally consists
of low, rounded, quite barren hills of granite and greenstone.
Sir J. Narborough called one part South Desolation, because
it is "so desolate a land to behold:" and well indeed might
he say so. Outside the main islands, there are numberless
scattered rocks on which the long swell of the open ocean
incessantly rages. We passed out between the East and West
Furies; and a little farther northward there are so many
breakers that the sea is called the Milky Way. One sight of
such a coast is enough to make a landsman dream for a week
about shipwrecks, peril, and death; and with this sight we
bade farewell for ever to Tierra del Fuego.
The following discussion on the climate of the southern
parts of the continent with relation to its productions, on
the snow-line, on the extraordinarily low descent of the
glaciers, and on the zone of perpetual congelation in
the antarctic islands, may be passed over by any one
not interested in these curious subjects, or the final
recapitulation alone may be read. I shall, however, here
give only an abstract, and must refer for details to the
Thirteenth Chapter and the Appendix of the former edition
of this work.
On the Climate and Productions of Tierra del Fuego and
of the South-west Coast. -- The following table gives the
mean temperature of Tierra del Fuego, the Falkland Islands,
and, for comparison, that of Dublin: --
Summer Winter Mean of Summer
Latitude Temp. Temp. and Winter
---------------------------------------------------------------
Tierra del Fuego 53 38' S. 50 33.08 41.54
Falkland Islands 51 38' S. 51 -- --
Dublin 53 21' N. 59.54 39.2 49.37
Hence we see that the central part of Tierra del Fuego is
colder in winter, and no less than 9.5 degs. less hot in
summer, than Dublin. According to von Buch, the mean
temperature of July (not the hottest month in the year)
at Saltenfiord in Norway, is as high as 57.8 degs.,
and this place is actually 13 degs. nearer the pole
than Port Famine! [8] Inhospitable as this climate appears
to our feelings evergreen trees flourish luxuriantly under
it. Humming-birds may be seen sucking the flowers, and
parrots feeding on the seeds of the Winter's Bark, in lat.
55 degs. S. I have already remarked to what a degree the
sea swarms with living creatures; and the shells (such as
the Patellae, Fissurellae, Chitons, and Barnacles),
according to Mr. G. B. Sowerby, are of a much larger size
and of a more vigorous growth, than the analogous species in
the northern hemisphere. A large Voluta is abundant in
southern Tierra del Fuego and the Falkland Islands. At
Bahia Blanca, in lat. 39 degs. S., the most abundant shells were
three species of Oliva (one of large size), one or two Volutas,
and a Terebra. Now, these are amongst the best characterized
tropical forms. It is doubtful whether even one
small species of Oliva exists on the southern shores of
Europe, and there are no species of the two other genera.
If a geologist were to find in lat 39 degs. on the coast of
Portugal a bed containing numerous shells belonging to three
species of Oliva, to a Voluta and Terebra, he would probably
assert that the climate at the period of their existence must
have been tropical; but judging from South America, such an
inference might be erroneous.
The equable, humid, and windy climate of Tierra del
Fuego extends, with only a small increase of heat, for many
degrees along the west coast of the continent. The forests
for 600 miles northward of Cape Horn, have a very similar
aspect. As a proof of the equable climate, even for 300 or
400 miles still further northward, I may mention that in
Chiloe (corresponding in latitude with the northern parts
of Spain) the peach seldom produces fruit, whilst strawberries
and apples thrive to perfection. Even the crops of
barley and wheat [9] are often brought into the houses to be
dried and ripened. At Valdivia (in the same latitude of
40 degs., with Madrid) grapes and figs ripen, but are not
common; olives seldom ripen even partially, and oranges not at
all. These fruits, in corresponding latitudes in Europe, are
well known to succeed to perfection; and even in this continent,
at the Rio Negro, under nearly the same parallel
with Valdivia, sweet potatoes (convolvulus) are cultivated;
and grapes, figs, olives, oranges, water and musk melons,
produce abundant fruit. Although the humid and equable
climate of Chiloe, and of the coast northward and southward
of it, is so unfavourable to our fruits, yet the native
forests, from lat. 45 to 38 degs., almost rival in luxuriance
those of the glowing intertropical regions. Stately trees of
many kinds, with smooth and highly coloured barks, are loaded
by parasitical monocotyledonous plants; large and elegant
ferns are numerous, and arborescent grasses entwine the
trees into one entangled mass to the height of thirty or forty
feet above the ground. Palm-trees grow in lat 37 degs.; an
arborescent grass, very like a bamboo, in 40 degs.; and
another closely allied kind, of great length, but not erect,
flourishes even as far south as 45 degs. S.
An equable climate, evidently due to the large area of sea
compared with the land, seems to extend over the greater
part of the southern hemisphere; and, as a consequence, the
vegetation partakes of a semi-tropical character. Tree-ferns
thrive luxuriantly in Van Diemen's Land (lat. 45 degs.), and I
measured one trunk no less than six feet in circumference.
An arborescent fern was found by Forster in New Zealand
in 46 degs., where orchideous plants are parasitical on the
trees. In the Auckland Islands, ferns, according to Dr.
Dieffenbach [10] have trunks so thick and high that they may
be almost called tree-ferns; and in these islands, and even
as far south as lat. 55 degs. in the Macquarrie Islands,
parrots abound.
On the Height of the Snow-line, and on the Descent of
the Glaciers in South America. -- For the detailed authorities
for the following table, I must refer to the former edition: --
Height in feet
Latitude of Snow-line Observer
----------------------------------------------------------------
Equatorial region; mean result 15,748 Humboldt.
Bolivia, lat. 16 to 18 degs. S. 17,000 Pentland.
Central Chile, lat. 33 degs. S. 14,500 - 15,000 Gillies, and
the Author.
Chiloe, lat. 41 to 43 degs. S. 6,000 Officers of the
Beagle and the
Author.
Tierra del Fuego, 54 degs. S. 3,500 - 4,000 King.
As the height of the plane of perpetual snow seems chiefly to
be determined by the extreme heat of the summer, rather than
by the mean temperature of the year, we ought not to be
surprised at its descent in the Strait of Magellan, where the
summer is so cool, to only 3500 or 4000 feet above the level of
the sea; although in Norway, we must travel to between lat. 67
and 70 degs. N., that is, about 14 degs. nearer the pole, to meet
with perpetual snow at this low level. The difference in height,
namely, about 9000 feet, between the snow-line on the Cordillera
behind Chiloe (with its highest points ranging from
only 5600 to 7500 feet) and in central Chile [11] (a distance of
only 9 degs. of latitude), is truly wonderful. The land from the
southward of Chiloe to near Concepcion (lat. 37 degs.) is hidden
by one dense forest dripping with moisture. The sky is
cloudy, and we have seen how badly the fruits of southern
Europe succeed. In central Chile, on the other hand, a little
northward of Concepcion, the sky is generally clear, rain does
not fall for the seven summer months, and southern European
fruits succeed admirably; and even the sugar-cane has
been cultivated. [12] No doubt the plane of perpetual snow
undergoes the above remarkable flexure of 9000 feet,
unparalleled in other parts of the world, not far from the
latitude of Concepcion, where the land ceases to be covered
with forest-trees; for trees in South America indicate a rainy
climate, and rain a clouded sky and little heat in summer.
The descent of glaciers to the sea must, I conceive, mainly
depend (subject, of course, to a proper supply of snow in the
upper region) on the lowness of the line of perpetual snow
on steep mountains near the coast. As the snow-line is so
low in Tierra del Fuego, we might have expected that many
of the glaciers would have reached the sea. Nevertheless,
I was astonished when I first saw a range, only from 3000 to
4000 feet in height, in the latitude of Cumberland, with every
valley filled with streams of ice descending to the sea-coast.
Almost every arm of the sea, which penetrates to the interior
higher chain, not only in Tierra del Fuego, but on the coast
for 650 miles northwards, is terminated by "tremendous and
astonishing glaciers," as described by one of the officers on
the survey. Great masses of ice frequently fall from these
icy cliffs, and the crash reverberates like the broadside of a
man-of-war through the lonely channels. These falls, as
noticed in the last chapter, produce great waves which break
on the adjoining coasts. It is known that earthquakes frequently
cause masses of earth to fall from sea-cliffs: how
terrific, then, would be the effect of a severe shock (and such
occur here [13]) on a body like a glacier, already in motion, and
traversed by fissures! I can readily believe that the water
would be fairly beaten back out of the deepest channel, and
then, returning with an overwhelming force, would whirl
about huge masses of rock like so much chaff. In Eyre's
Sound, in the latitude of Paris, there are immense glaciers,
and yet the loftiest neighbouring mountain is only 6200 feet
high. In this Sound, about fifty icebergs were seen at one
time floating outwards, and one of them must have been at
least 168 feet in total height. Some of the icebergs were
loaded with blocks of no inconsiderable size, of granite and
other rocks, different from the clay-slate of the surrounding
mountains. The glacier furthest from the pole, surveyed
during the voyages of the Adventure and Beagle, is in lat.
46 degs. 50', in the Gulf of Penas. It is 15 miles long, and in
one part 7 broad and descends to the sea-coast. But even a
few miles northward of this glacier, in Laguna de San
[picture]
Rafael, some Spanish missionaries [14] encountered "many
icebergs, some great, some small, and others middle-sized," in
a narrow arm of the sea, on the 22nd of the month corresponding
with our June, and in a latitude corresponding with
that of the Lake of Geneva !
In Europe, the most southern glacier which comes down
to the sea is met with, according to Von Buch, on the coast
of Norway, in lat. 67 degs. Now, this is more than 20 degs. of
latitude, or 1230 miles, nearer the pole than the Laguna de San
Rafael. The position of the glaciers at this place and in the
Gulf of Penas may be put even in a more striking point of
view, for they descend to the sea-coast within 7.5 degs. of
latitude, or 450 miles, of a harbour, where three species of
Oliva, a Voluta, and a Terebra, are the commonest shells,
within less than 9 degs. from where palms grow, within 4.5 degs.
of a region where the jaguar and puma range over the
plains, less than 2.5 degs. from arborescent grasses, and
(looking to the westward in the same hemisphere) less than
2 degs. from orchideous parasites, and within a single degree
of tree-ferns!
These facts are of high geological interest with respect to
the climate of the northern hemisphere at the period when
boulders were transported. I will not here detail how simply
the theory of icebergs being charged with fragments of rock,
explain the origin and position of the gigantic boulders of
eastern Tierra del Fuego, on the high plain of Santa Cruz,
and on the island of Chiloe. In Tierra del Fuego, the greater
number of boulders lie on the lines of old sea-channels, now
converted into dry valleys by the elevation of the land. They
are associated with a great unstratified formation of mud
and sand, containing rounded and angular fragments of all
sizes, which has originated [15] in the repeated ploughing up of
the sea-bottom by the stranding of icebergs, and by the matter
transported on them. Few geologists now doubt that
those erratic boulders which lie near lofty mountains have
been pushed forward by the glaciers themselves, and that
those distant from mountains, and embedded in subaqueous
deposits, have been conveyed thither either on icebergs or
frozen in coast-ice. The connection between the transportal
of boulders and the presence of ice in some form, is strikingly
shown by their geographical distribution over the earth.
In South America they are not found further than 48 degs. of
latitude, measured from the southern pole; in North America
it appears that the limit of their transportal extends to
53.5 degs. from the northern pole; but in Europe to not more
than 40 degs. of latitude, measured from the same point. On the
other hand, in the intertropical parts of America, Asia, and
Africa, they have never been observed; nor at the Cape of Good
Hope, nor in Australia. [16]
On the Climate and Productions of the Antarctic Islands.
-- Considering the rankness of the vegetation in Tierra del
Fuego, and on the coast northward of it, the condition of the
islands south and south-west of America is truly surprising.
Sandwich Land, in the latitude of the north part of Scotland,
was found by Cook, during the hottest month of the
year, "covered many fathoms thick with everlasting snow;"
and there seems to be scarcely any vegetation. Georgia, an
island 96 miles long and 10 broad, in the latitude of Yorkshire,
"in the very height of summer, is in a manner wholly
covered with frozen snow." It can boast only of moss, some
tufts of grass, and wild burnet; it has only one land-bird
(Anthus correndera), yet Iceland, which is 10 degs. nearer the
pole, has, according to Mackenzie, fifteen land-birds. The
South Shetland Islands, in the same latitude as the southern
half of Norway, possess only some lichens, moss, and a little
grass; and Lieut. Kendall [17] found the bay, in which he was
at anchor, beginning to freeze at a period corresponding with
our 8th of September. The soil here consists of ice and
volcanic ashes interstratified; and at a little depth beneath
the surface it must remain perpetually congealed, for Lieut.
Kendall found the body of a foreign sailor which had long
been buried, with the flesh and all the features perfectly
preserved. It is a singular fact, that on the two great
continents in the northern hemisphere (but not in the broken
land of Europe between them ), we have the zone of perpetually
frozen undersoil in a low latitude -- namely, in 56 degs. in
North America at the depth of three feet, [18] and in 62 degs.
in Siberia at the depth of twelve to fifteen feet -- as the
result of a directly opposite condition of things to those
of the southern hemisphere. On the northern continents, the
winter is rendered excessively cold by the radiation from a
large area of land into a clear sky, nor is it moderated by
the warmth-bringing currents of the sea; the short summer,
on the other hand, is hot. In the Southern Ocean the winter
is not so excessively cold, but the summer is far less hot,
for the clouded sky seldom allows the sun to warm the ocean,
itself a bad absorbent of heat: and hence the mean temperature
of the year, which regulates the zone of perpetually congealed
under-soil, is low. It is evident that a rank vegetation,
which does not so much require heat as it does protection
from intense cold, would approach much nearer to this zone
of perpetual congelation under the equable climate of the
southern hemisphere, than under the extreme climate of the
northern continents.
The case of the sailor's body perfectly preserved in the icy
soil of the South Shetland Islands (lat. 62 to 63 degs. S.), in a
rather lower latitude than that (lat. 64 degs. N.) under which
Pallas found the frozen rhinoceros in Siberia, is very
interesting. Although it is a fallacy, as I have endeavoured to
show in a former chapter, to suppose that the larger quadrupeds
require a luxuriant vegetation for their support, nevertheless
it is important to find in the South Shetland Islands
a frozen under-soil within 360 miles of the forest-clad islands
near Cape Horn, where, as far as the _bulk_ of vegetation is
concerned, any number of great quadrupeds might be supported.
The perfect preservation of the carcasses of the
Siberian elephants and rhinoceroses is certainly one of the
most wonderful facts in geology; but independently of the
imagined difficulty of supplying them with food from the
adjoining countries, the whole case is not, I think, so
perplexing as it has generally been considered. The plains of
Siberia, like those of the Pampas, appear to have been formed
under the sea, into which rivers brought down the bodies
of many animals; of the greater number of these, only the
skeletons have been preserved, but of others the perfect
carcass. Now, it is known that in the shallow sea on the Arctic
coast of America the bottom freezes, [19] and does not thaw in
spring so soon as the surface of the land, moreover at
greater depths, where the bottom of the sea does not freeze
the mud a few feet beneath the top layer might remain even
in summer below 32 degs., as in the case on the land with the
soil at the depth of a few feet. At still greater depths, the
temperature of the mud and water would probably not be low
enough to preserve the flesh; and hence, carcasses drifted
beyond the shallow parts near an Arctic coast, would have
only their skeletons preserved: now in the extreme northern
parts of Siberia bones are infinitely numerous, so that even
islets are said to be almost composed of them; [20] and those
islets lie no less than ten degrees of latitude north of the
place where Pallas found the frozen rhinoceros. On the other
hand, a carcass washed by a flood into a shallow part of the
Arctic Sea, would be preserved for an indefinite period, if it
were soon afterwards covered with mud sufficiently thick to
prevent the heat of the summer-water penetrating to it; and
if, when the sea-bottom was upraised into land, the covering
was sufficiently thick to prevent the heat of the summer air
and sun thawing and corrupting it.
Recapitulation. -- I will recapitulate the principal facts with
regard to the climate, ice-action, and organic productions of
the southern hemisphere, transposing the places in imagination
to Europe, with which we are so much better acquainted.
Then, near Lisbon, the commonest sea-shells, namely, three
species of Oliva, a Voluta, and a Terebra, would have a
tropical character. In the southern provinces of France,
magnificent forests, intwined by arborescent grasses and with
the trees loaded with parasitical plants, would hide the face
of the land. The puma and the jaguar would haunt the
Pyrenees. In the latitude of Mont Blanc, but on an island as
far westward as Central North America, tree-ferns and
parasitical Orchideae would thrive amidst the thick woods.
Even as far north as central Denmark, humming-birds would be
seen fluttering about delicate flowers, and parrots feeding
amidst the evergreen woods; and in the sea there, we should
have a Voluta, and all the shells of large size and vigorous
growth. Nevertheless, on some islands only 360 miles northward
of our new Cape Horn in Denmark, a carcass buried
in the soil (or if washed into a shallow sea, and covered up
with mud) would be preserved perpetually frozen. If some
bold navigator attempted to penetrate northward of these
islands, he would run a thousand dangers amidst gigantic
icebergs, on some of which he would see great blocks of rock
borne far away from their original site. Another island of
large size in the latitude of southern Scotland, but twice as
far to the west, would be "almost wholly covered with
everlasting snow," and would have each bay terminated by
ice-cliffs, whence great masses would be yearly detached: this
island would boast only of a little moss, grass, and burnet,
and a titlark would be its only land inhabitant. From our
new Cape Horn in Denmark, a chain of mountains, scarcely
half the height of the Alps, would run in a straight line due
southward; and on its western flank every deep creek of the
sea, or fiord, would end in "bold and astonishing glaciers."
These lonely channels would frequently reverberate with the
falls of ice, and so often would great waves rush along their
coasts; numerous icebergs, some as tall as cathedrals, and
occasionally loaded with "no inconsiderable blocks of rock,"
would be stranded on the outlying islets; at intervals violent
earthquakes would shoot prodigious masses of ice into the
waters below. Lastly, some missionaries attempting to penetrate
a long arm of the sea, would behold the not lofty surrounding
mountains, sending down their many grand icy streams
to the sea-coast, and their progress in the boats would
be checked by the innumerable floating icebergs, some small
and some great; and this would have occurred on our twenty-
second of June, and where the Lake of Geneva is now spread
out! [21]
[1] The south-westerly breezes are generally very dry.
January 29th, being at anchor under Cape Gregory: a very
hard gale from W. by S., clear sky with few cumuli;
temperature 57 degs., dew-point 36 degs., -- difference
21 degs. On January 15th, at Port St. Julian: in the
morning, light winds with much rain, followed by a very
heavy squall with rain, -- settled into heavy gale with
large cumuli, -- cleared up, blowing very strong from S.S.W.
Temperature 60 degs., dew-point 42 degs., -- difference
18 degs.
[2] Rengger, Natur. der Saeugethiere von Paraguay. S. 334.
[3] Captain Fitz Roy informs me that in April (our October),
the leaves of those trees which grow near the base of the
mountains change colour, but not those on the more elevated
parts. I remember having read some observations, showing
that in England the leaves fall earlier in a warm and fine
autumn than in a late and cold one, The change in the colour
being here retarded in the more elevated, and therefore colder
situations, must he owing to the same general law of vegetation.
The trees of Tierra del Fuego during no part of the year
entirely shed their leaves.
[4] Described from my specimens and notes by the Rev. J. M.
Berkeley, in the Linnean Transactions (vol. xix. p. 37), under
the name of Cyttaria Darwinii; the Chilean species is the
C. Berteroii. This genus is allied to Bulgaria.
[5] I believe I must except one alpine Haltica, and a single
specimen of a Melasoma. Mr. Waterhouse informs me, that of
the Harpalidae there are eight or nine species -- the forms
of the greater number being very peculiar; of Heteromera,
four or five species; of Rhyncophora, six or seven; and of
the following families one species in each: Staphylinidae,
Elateridae, Cebrionidae, Melolonthidae. The species in the
other orders are even fewer. In all the orders, the scarcity
of the individuals is even more remarkable than that of the
species. Most of the Coleoptera have been carefully described
by Mr. Waterhouse in the Annals of Nat. Hist.
[6] Its geographical range is remarkably wide; it is found
from the extreme southern islets near Cape Horn, as far
north on the eastern coast (according to information given
me by Mr. Stokes) as lat. 43 degs., -- but on the western
coast, as Dr. Hooker tells me, it extends to the R. San
Francisco in California, and perhaps even to Kamtschatka.
We thus have an immense range in latitude; and as Cook,
who must have been well acquainted with the species, found
it at Kerguelen Land, no less than 140 degs. in longitude.
[7] Voyages of the Adventure and Beagle, vol. i. p. 363. -- It
appears that sea-weed grows extremely quick. -- Mr. Stephenson
found (Wilson's Voyage round Scotland, vol. ii. p. 228) that
a rock uncovered only at spring-tides, which had been chiselled
smooth in November, on the following May, that is, within
six months afterwards, was thickly covered with Fucus digitatus
two feet, and F. esculentus six feet, in length.
[8] With regard to Tierra del Fuego, the results are deduced
from the observations of Capt. King (Geographical Journal,
1830), and those taken on board the Beagle. For the Falkland
Islands, I am indebted to Capt. Sulivan for the mean of the
mean temperature (reduced from careful observations at
midnight, 8 A.M., noon, and 8 P.M.) of the three hottest
months, viz., December, January, and February. The temperature
of Dublin is taken from Barton.
[9] Agueros, Descrip. Hist. de la Prov. de Chiloe, 1791, p. 94.
[10] See the German Translation of this Journal; and for the
other facts, Mr. Brown's Appendix to Flinders's Voyage.
[11] On the Cordillera of central Chile, I believe the
snow-line varies exceedingly in height in different summers.
I was assured that during one very dry and long summer, all
the snow disappeared from Aconcagua, although it attains the
prodigious height of 23,000 feet. It is probable that much
of the snow at these great heights is evaporated rather than
thawed.
[12] Miers's Chile, vol. i. p. 415. It is said that the
sugar-cane grew at Ingenio, lat. 32 to 33 degs., but not in
sufficient quantity to make the manufacture profitable. In
the valley of Quillota, south of Ingenio, I saw some large
date palm trees.
[13] Bulkeley's and Cummin's Faithful Narrative of the Loss
of the Wager. The earthquake happened August 25, 1741.
[14] Agueros, Desc. Hist. de Chiloe, p. 227.
[15] Geological Transactions, vol. vi. p. 415.
[16] I have given details (the first, I believe, published) on
this subject in the first edition, and in the Appendix to it.
I have there shown that the apparent exceptions to the absence
of erratic boulders in certain countries, are due to erroneous
observations; several statements there given I have since
found confirmed by various authors.
[17] Geographical Journal, 1830, pp. 65, 66.
[18] Richardson's Append. to Back's Exped., and Humboldt's
Fragm. Asiat., tom. ii. p. 386.
[19] Messrs. Dease and Simpson, in Geograph. Journ., vol.
viii. pp. 218 and 220.
[20] Cuvier (Ossemens Fossiles, tom. i. p. 151), from Billing's
Voyage.
[21] In the former edition and Appendix, I have given some
facts on the transportal of erratic boulders and icebergs
in the Atlantic Ocean. This subject has lately been treated
excellently by Mr. Hayes, in the Boston Journal (vol. iv.
p. 426). The author does not appear aware of a case published
by me (Geographical Journal, vol. ix. p. 528) of a gigantic
boulder embedded in an iceberg in the Antarctic Ocean, almost
certainly one hundred miles distant from any land, and
perhaps much more distant. In the Appendix I have discussed
at length the probability (at that time hardly thought of)
of icebergs, when stranded, grooving and polishing rocks,
like glaciers. This is now a very commonly received opinion;
and I cannot still avoid the suspicion that it is applicable
even to such cases as that of the Jura. Dr. Richardson has
assured me that the icebergs off North America push before
them pebbles and sand, and leave the sub-marine rocky flats
quite bare; it is hardly possible to doubt that such ledges
must be polished and scored in the direction of the set of
the prevailing currents. Since writing that Appendix, I have
seen in North Wales (London Phil. Mag., vol. xxi. p. 180)
the adjoining action of glaciers and floating icebergs.
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