Fred was disappointed with his first view of Patagonia. He knew it was a desolate region, but was hardly prepared for the total absence of all vegetation on the shore which he scanned through his glass. It was the shore of the Red Sea without its warmth of sunshine, and the rosy tints for which its name was given. Coming from the rich verdure of the Amazon and the Rio de La Plata, he found the gray, barren landscape of Patagonia doubly forbidding, and his desire for a journey through the country was by no means great. The entrance to the Strait of Magellan is about twenty-two miles wide; the northerly, or, rather, the northeasterly, point around which the steamer took its course is called Cape Virgens, and the southeastern Cape Espiritu Santo. Almost due east, and about three hundred miles distant, are the Falkland Islands, which belong to Great Britain, and are of more political than practical value. There is excellent pasturage on the islands, and considerable numbers of cattle and sheep are raised there, but the climate is not favorable to agriculture. [Illustration: SEAL OF THE FALKLAND ISLANDS.] Fred wanted to visit the Falklands, not so much to examine the country as to see the seals and penguins, which are killed there in great numbers. As he was unable to make the journey, he contented himself with a description given by a fellow-passenger. [Illustration: PATAGONIA AND TIERRA DEL FUEGO.] "The penguin is a funny-looking bird," said the gentleman, "and his breeding-place is as funny as he is. In the first place, he can't fly; he has two wings, like any other bird, but they are very short, and only useful for helping him over the ground when on land, and for paddling him about in the water. He doesn't use his wings much, though, in the water, as his broad feet are webbed like a duck's, and propel him very rapidly. "When I first came to this part of the world I was on a schooner in search of penguin oil. We went to one of the rocky islands where the birds make their home, and found a city of probably a hundred thousand penguins." "A hundred thousand in one city!" exclaimed Fred, in astonishment. "Yes, a hundred thousand at least," was the reply, "and I've seen a penguin city five times as large as that. There was a space of fifty or sixty acres covered with birds about as thick as they could sit together; it was laid off into squares by streets running at right angles, and a surveyor couldn't have made the lines straighter than they were.