For some
days the captain had been studying an English book, which, in his
opinion, clearly proved that the passage through the Straits of
Magellan was far less dangerous and far shorter than that round Cape
Horn. I asked him how it happened that other sailors knew nothing
of this valuable book, and why all vessels bound for the western
coast of America went round Cape Horn? He could give me no other
answer than that the book was very dear, and that that was the
reason no one bought it. {60}
To me this bold idea of the captain's was extremely welcome. I
already pictured in my mind the six-feet tall Patagonians putting
off to us in their boats; I saw myself taking their mussels, plants,
ornaments, and weapons in exchange for coloured ribbons and
handkerchiefs; while, to render my satisfaction complete, the
captain said that he should land at Port Famine (a Patagonian haven)
to supply the injured portion of our mainmast. How thankful was I,
in secret, to the storm for having reduced our ship to her present
condition.
Too soon, however, were all my flattering hopes and dreams
dispelled.
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