they are too blue, too noiseless, to be water. Yet,
in a way, they are water, for they are glaciers, some of them abutting
upon the sea-arm, and filling up the gorges that open upon it with
facades as precipitous as that of the cliff itself. There are streams
of water also which proceed from the melting of the snow above;
cataracts that spout out from the wooded sides of the ravines, their
glistening sheen vividly conspicuous amid the greenery of the trees.
Two of these curving jets, projected from walls of verdure on opposite
sides of a gorge, meet midway, and mingling, fall thence perpendicularly
down, changing, long ere they reach the water below, to a column of
white spray.

Such is the magnificent panorama spread before the eyes of our
castaways, who, despite their forlorn lot, cannot help regarding it with
wonder and admiration. Nor is their wonder diminished by what they see
and hear close at hand. Little did they expect to find parrots and
humming-birds in that high southern latitude; yet a flock of the former
chatter above their heads, feeding on the berries of the Winter's-bark;
while numbers of the latter are seen, flitting to and fro, or poised on
whirring wings before the bell-shaped blossoms of the fuchsias. [Note
3.] From the deeper recesses of the wood at intervals comes a loud,
cackling cry, resembling the laugh of an idiot. It is the call-note of
the black woodpecker. And, as if in response to it, a kingfisher,
perched on the limb of a dead tree by the beach, now and then utters its
shrill, ear-piercing scream.

Other fishing-birds of different species fly hither and thither over the
water, now quite tranquil, the wind having died away.

A flock of white pelicans, in pursuit of finny prey, swim about the
cove, their eyes looking into the depths, their long pick-axe beaks held
ready for a plunge. Then, as a fish is sighted underneath, down go head
and neck in a quick dart, soon to be drawn up with the victim writhing
between the tips of the mandibles. But the prey is not secured yet. On
each pelican attends a number of predatory gulls, wheeling over it in
flight, and watching its every movement with a foregone and well-studied
intent. For as soon as the fish is brought up, they swoop at it from
all points with wild screams and flapping wings; and as the pelican
cannot swallow the fish without first tossing it upward, the toss often
proves fatal to its purpose. The prey let go, instead of