al, the savages had kept the poor fellow in constant fear for his
life, even Jemmy Button and York having been unable to protect him.
Captain Fitzroy took him away, and he afterwards carried on missionary
work among the Maories of New Zealand.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

BOAT AHOY!

The new boat behaves handsomely, even excelling in speed the lost gig,
the oars and sailing-gear of which, luckily saved, have fitted it out
complete. Under canvas, with a fair wind, they easily make ten knots an
hour; and as they have such a wind for the remainder of the day, are
carried into the Beagle Channel without need of wetting an oar.

At sunset they are opposite Devil Island, at the junction of the
south-west and north-west arms of the channel; and as the night
threatens to be dark, with a fog already over the water, they deem it
prudent to put in upon the isle, despite its uncanny appellation.

Landing, they are surprised to see a square-built hut of large size,
quite different from anything of Fuegian construction, and evidently the
work of white men.

"I reck'n the crew o' some sealin' vessel hez put it up," surmises
Seagriff; in doubt adding, "Yit I can't understan' why they should
a-squatted hyar, still less built a shanty, seein' it ain't much of a
lay fer seal. I guess they must hev got wracked somewhar near, and war
castaways, like ourselves."

About the builders of the hut he has surmised wrongly. They were _not_
sealers, nor had they been wrecked, but were a boat's party of real
sailors--man-of-war's men from the very ship which gave the channel its
name, and at the date of its discovery. Nor did the island deserve the
harsh name bestowed upon it, and which originated in the following
incident:

A screech-owl had perched above the head of one of the _Beagle's_
sailors who slept under a tree outside the hut, and awakened him with
its lugubrious "whoo-woo-woah!" and so frightened the superstitious tar,
that he believed himself hailed by one of the malevolent deities of
weird Fireland!

"Well," says Captain Gancy, after an inspection of the untenanted
building, "it'll serve us a turn or two, whoever may have built it. The
roof appears to be all tight and sound, so we needn't be at the bother
of turning the boat-sail into a tent this time."

A fire is kindled inside the hut, and all gather round it, the night
being chilly cold. Nor are they afraid of the blaze betraying them
here, as the fog will prevent its