into the clutches of Stanley Harbor; it is almost impossible to escape in less than six months, and the most exorbitant prices are asked for absolutely necessary things. The last vessel of any size which put into Stanley for extensive repairs was the British ship “Pass of Balmaha,” which was detained there for nearly a year. It is stated that the ship-yard, etc., pays forty per cent. on the investment. At one o’clock this morning we passed Cape Virgins at the Atlantic entrance to the Straits of Magellan, distant about seventy-five miles, and at eleven this morning Mr. Rarx saw the land on the weather-bow, and presently the lonely, barren shores of Tierra del Fuego rose faintly out of the sea and appeared also on the port bow, as though we were sailing into the heart of a deep bight, as indeed we were. Before long great ice-covered peaks began to appear, and I asked the skipper if he was going to keep away for the Straits of Le Maire. “No,” he replied, “I’m not going through now for several reasons; in the first place, I think the wind will head us in the straits, and in the second place, as long as this wind keeps on I’m going to heave to under the land when we get farther down. What’s the good of going through? As soon as we showed ourselves outside Staten Land there’d be this westerly gale, with who knows how much sea; then there’s a two-knot current settin’ to the eastward, and this, with three points of leeway, would send us to leeward like a cask. Better lie snug inside than go smashin’ into those seas. In a day or two perhaps we can go through the Straits of Le Mar.” It is odd that every ship-master whom I have ever heard mention these straits should call it Le Mar instead of Le Maire. Captain Scruggs added that we would have fine views of Tierra del Fuego later on, as he was going to run down to within ten miles of the land; we are therefore anticipating a very great treat. It is utterly impossible to fitly describe these sunsets or to do justice to the wild grandeur of the scene as the orb slowly and majestically settles into the sea among the far-away, golden-cushioned clouds. In the tropics the sun seems to drop suddenly behind the horizon; but in these high latitudes, he sinks so hesitatingly that it appears as though he were loath to bid us good-night. The air at this time of day is most wonderfully transparent here, with a sparkle of frost in the atmosphere; while the clouds, being almost exclusively of the stratus variety, stretch across the horizon in layers of fiery embers, with sometimes a gorgeous fringe of cloud-fleece crowning the scene with a coronet of dazzling splendor; while if a heavy bar of dark cloud extends almost to the sky-line, the sun will be observed glittering beneath it upon the crests of the far-distant seas, with the appearance as of a phalanx of golden breakers.