water, which stretched along the base of the mountains into a long, narrow, winding inlet that appeared to run towards the interior. In some places the stream was rapid, and we were hurled and tossed on at a great rate of speed. The farther we travelled inland, we noticed that the volcanoes became fewer, and this gave us some degree of consolation; but, on the other hand, we began to wonder where this stream might lead to, when we saw a sight in front, which, hardened as we were, filled us with terror.
A small circular lake, surrounded by high hills, with a great whirlpool in the centre, was only a little distance ahead. Pieces of wood and other things carried down by the current were being swiftly hurled round and round the lake—all, however, making their way to the vortex, and disappearing for ever. What was to be done? A few minutes more, and we should be in the lake. In a moment I hitched a large iron hook to the end of a rope, and threw it ashore among the brambles and rocks. Fortunately it caught, and we were safe. Then, going on land, we made the rope fast; still the Penguin was in the current, whereas, if we could only manage to get her to the opposite side, she would be beyond its influence. This,
