in so forcibly through all the cracks and fissures, that it was soon more than ankle deep. Unluckily the sailors had forgotten to put on board a bucket or anything for baling out the water, so that we were obliged to use our hats and boots for that purpose. Fourteen persons were crowded together in this leaky boat, and the water continued rising, until at length we began to be seriously apprehensive for our safety, when, fortunately, our situation was observed by the people on shore. They promptly prepared to send out a boat to our assistance, but just as it was got afloat, we succeeded in reaching the pier, happy once more to set our feet on terra firma.

Our first business was to seek shelter and refreshment. There is no tavern in San Carlos, but there is a sort of substitute for one, kept by an old Corsican, named Filippi, where captains of ships usually take up their quarters. Filippi, who recognized an old acquaintance in one of our party, received us very kindly, and showed us to apartments which certainly had no claim to the merits of either cleanliness or convenience. They were long, dark, quadrangular rooms, without windows, and were destitute of any article of furniture, except a bed in a kind of recess.

As soon as I got on shore, I saw a multitude of small birds of prey. They keep in flocks, like our sparrows, hopping about everywhere, and perching on the hedges and house-tops. I anxiously wished for an opportunity to make myself better acquainted with one of them. Presuming that shooting in the town might be displeasing to the inhabitants, who would naturally claim to themselves a sort of exclusive sporting right, I took my gun down to the sea-shore, and there shot one of the birds. It belonged to the Gyr-Falcon family (Polyboriniæ), and was one of the species peculiar to South America (Polyborus chimango, Vieil). The whole of the upper part of the body is brown, but single feathers here and there have a whitish-brown edge. On the tail are several indistinct oblique stripes. The under-part of the body is whitish-brown, and is also marked with transverse stripes feebly defined. The bird I shot measured from the point of the beak to the end of the tail 1 foot 6¹⁄₂ inches. Though these Gyr-Falcons live socially together, yet they are very greedy and contentious about their prey. They snap up, as food, all the offal thrown out of doors; and thus they render themselves serviceable to the inhabitants, who consequently do not destroy them. In some of the valleys of Peru, I met with these birds again, but very rarely and always single and solitary. I continued my excursions on the sea-shore, but with little satisfaction, for the pouring rain had driven animals of every kind to their lurking-holes. After a few days, I went on board the "Edmond," for the purpose of visiting Punta Arena, a town on the side of the bay, whither our boat used to be sent for fresh water. The ground surrounding the spring whence the ships obtain supplies of water, is sandy, and it becomes exceedingly marshy further inland. After wandering about for a few hours, I found myself quite lost in a morass, out of which I had to work my way with no little difficulty. The whole produce of my hard day's sport consisted of an awlbeak, a small dark-brown bird (Opethiorhyncus patagonicus), and some land-snails. On our return, as we were nearing the ship, we killed a seal (Otaria chilensis, Müll.), which was rising after a dive, close to the boat.

On the 22d of June, all our ship's company were on board by order of the captain. We weighed anchor, and cruized about for some time. At length, about five in the afternoon, we returned, and the ship was anchored again precisely on the spot she had left a few hours before. It was set down in the log-book that the wind was not sufficiently favorable to allow the ship to pass out safely through the narrow entrance to the bay. But all on board were well aware that this was merely a pretence on the part of the captain, who, for some reason or other, wished to stop longer at San Carlos.

I was very much pleased at this opportunity of prolonging my stay at the Island of Chiloe, hoping that better weather would enable me to make an excursion into the interior. But the sky still continued overcast, and the rain poured incessantly. One day, however, I undertook a journey to Castro, in company with the French Chargé d'Affaires to Peru, one of my fellow passengers on the voyage. A merchant accommodated us with two horses, saddled in the Chilian manner; but he warned us to be on our guard, as horses were often restive when just returned from their summer pasturage. We set off very promisingly. The commencement of our ride was pleasant enough, though the road was steep and very difficult. It sometimes lay over smooth slippery stones, then through deep marshes, or over scattered logs of wood, which bore evidence of attempts to render the ground passable, by this rude kind of paving. After we had ridden for several hours in the forest, the rain checked our further progress, and we turned, to retrace our way back. Our horses seemed well pleased with the project of returning home. For a time they proceeded with wonderful steadiness; but on coming to a part of the road where the ground was comparatively level and firm, they quickened their pace, and at length dashed forward through the wood, uncontrolled by the bridle. The long narrow saddle, with its woollen covering, the crescent-shaped wooden stirrups, and the heavy spurs, with their clumsy rowels, baffled all our skill in horsemanship, and it was with no little difficulty we kept our seats. We thought it best to give the animals the rein, and they galloped through the umbrageous thickets, until at last, panting and breathless, they stuck in a morass. Here we recovered our control over them, and pursued the remainder of our journey without further accident, though we were drenched to the skin on our return to the town.

On subsequent days, I took my rambles on foot, and found myself richly rewarded thereby. The long evenings we spent in the company of our host and the harbor-master, from both of whom I obtained some useful information respecting the island.

Chiloe is one of the largest islands of the Archipelago which extends along the west coast of South America, from 42° south lat. to the Straits of Magellan. It is about 23 German miles long, and 10 broad. A magnificent, but almost inaccessible forest covers the unbroken line of hills stretching along Chiloe, and gives to the island a charming aspect of undulating luxuriance. Seldom, however, can the eye command a distinct view of those verdant hills; for overhanging clouds surcharged with rain, almost constantly veil the spreading tops of the trees. At most parts of the shore the declivity is rapid. There are many inlets, which, though small, afford secure anchorage; but there are no harbors of any magnitude. While Castro was the capital of the island, Chacao was the principal port; but San Carlos having become the residence of the governor, this latter place is considered the chief harbor; and with reason, for its secure, tranquil bay unites all the advantages the navigator can desire on the stormy coast of South Chile. At Chacao, on the contrary, reefs and strong currents render the entrance dangerous and the anchorage insecure.

Chiloe is but little cultivated, and scantily populated. If the statement of my informant, the harbor-master, be correct, Chiloe and the adjacent small islands contain only from 48,000 to 50,000 inhabitants, part of whom live in ranchos (huts), and part in a few villages. Next to San Carlos, and the half-deserted Castro, to which the title of "City" is given, the chief places are Chacao, Vilipilli, Cucao, Velinoe. It is only in the neighborhood of these towns or villages