came more favorable for a chance to
clear the strait with a fair wind, and so I made up my mind after six
attempts, being driven back each, time, to be in no further haste to
sail. The bad weather on my last return to Port Angosto for shelter
brought the Chilean gunboat _Condor_ and the Argentine cruiser
_Azopardo_ into port. As soon as the latter came to anchor, Captain
Mascarella, the commander, sent a boat to the _Spray_ with the message
that he would take me in tow for Sandy Point if I would give up the
voyage and return--the thing farthest from my mind. The officers of
the _Azopardo_ told me that, coming up the strait after the _Spray_ on
her first passage through, they saw Black Pedro and learned that he
had visited me. The _Azopardo_, being a foreign man-of-war, had no
right to arrest the Fuegian outlaw, but her captain blamed me for not
shooting the rascal when he came to my sloop.

I procured some cordage and other small supplies from these vessels,
and the officers of each of them mustered a supply of warm flannels,
of which I was most in need. With these additions to my outfit, and
with the vessel in good trim, though somewhat deeply laden, I was well
prepared for another bout with the Southern, misnamed Pacific, Ocean.

In the first week in April southeast winds, such as appear about Cape
Horn in the fall and winter seasons, bringing better weather than that
experienced in the summer, began to disturb the upper clouds; a little
more patience, and the time would come for sailing with a fair wind.

At Port Angosto I met Professor Dusen of the Swedish scientific
expedition to South America and the Pacific Islands. The professor was
camped by the side of a brook at the head of the harbor, where there
were many varieties of moss, in which he was interested, and where the
water was, as his Argentine cook said, "muy rico." The professor had
three well-armed Argentines along in his camp to fight savages. They
seemed disgusted when I filled water at a small stream near the
vessel, slighting their advice to go farther up to the greater brook,
where it was "muy rico." But they were all fine fellows, though it was
a wonder that they did not all die of rheumatic pains from living on
wet ground.

Of all the little haps and mishaps to the _Spray_ at Port Angosto, of
the many attempts to put to sea, and of each return for shelter, it is
not my purpose to speak. Of hindrances there were many to keep her
back, but on the