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The Coast with this favorable wind, that we pushed on, trusting to their joining us at Milford Sound, according to their promise. The mountains behind Dusky Bay appear to be high, judging from the extent of them covered by snow. The Peninsula that forms the seaward part of Resolution Island and ends in Five Fingers Point, is low. It has the same gentle slope as the land to the south of Dusky Bay, but we were too far from shore to make it out clearly. It was quite dark when we passed Breaksea Sound, the night being mild, and fine, with a light southerly breeze, forming a delightful contrast to the disagreeable weather we had had of late. The sea was brilliantly illuminated with large fiery masses, which proved to be compound Polypes, forming tubular masses sometimes 12 inches in length and 2 in diameter. There was also a great variety of Medusa; and a few specimens of the curious little Clio were obtained.

The breeze continued favorable until daybreak, when it became calm, the air being deliciously fresh and mild. We were then off Nancy Sound, at a distance of 7 miles from the shore, and had a panoramic view embracing the whole Coast from Milford Sound to Dusky Bay. Its aspect is gloomy and forbidding in the extreme. The black mountains rise abruptly from the water’s edge, with a slope rarely less than 25°, and often 50° to 60°, but not forming sheer precipices. The walls of the Sounds are equally abrupt, and it is obvious at the first glance that they cannot have originated as arms of the sea-or due in any degree to its erosive action; their most protected angles and nooks having the same abrupt and still outline that characterises the seaward slope.

The view from the summit of a range of mountains—when a mantle of clouds conceals their base and wells up into all the valleys and ravines—has been likened to their partial submergence beneath the sea; and to convey a correct impression of the appearance of this Coast, I need only reverse the simile, as the hard outlines and profound valleys, which we are accustomed to see only at considerable elevations, having been here reduced to the sea level. We remained nearly stationary till 1 p.m., when the wind shifted to the N.W., and clouds began to gather on the mountains, warning us to take shelter, so that we put back to Thompson’s Sound, which was 7 miles to the southward, as it could be most easily entered with the wind from this quarter, and moreover, affords a more secure anchorage than Nancy Sound, to which we were opposite. We now passed closer in shore, so that I was able to observe the formation to be slate or schist, traversed by large veins of quartz. The wind carried us right into the Sound, but then failed us, so that the boat had to be launched, and the yacht towed up to the anchorage in Deas’ Cove, a distance of three miles. The sea was quite calm, and there was hardly any swell in at the entrance, so that we got in without difficulty. The sides of Thompson’s Sound are precipitous, the appearance immediately on entering it resembling that presented only by the upper portions of Chalky and Preservation Inlets. We were hardly anchored when the storm from the N.W. broke, and in a few hours acquired great violence—the gusts of wind drawing through the narrow mountain valley having terrific force, and accompanied by torrents of rain. It was very fortunate that we turned back, as we had no warning of the coming of this storm, except from the gathering of the clouds on the mountains, the barometer having maintained steadily the high reading of 30.35. This storm, which continued for three days, was the most violent we have had on the coast, the gusts of wind having such strength that though we lay in a land-locked cove, it was found necessary—besides putting down two anchors—to moor the craft to the trees. The rain was incessant and very heavy, as much as 8 inches falling in 48 hours. The barometer fell to 29.43, but not until the worst of the storm passed—on the 27th—when the weather began to moderate though still continued blustering and showery.

Deas’ Cove is a very small anchorage opening to the south or up the Sound, being closed from the opposite quarter by a low and partially swampy neck of land, about a square mile in extent, and bounded on the one side by a low rocky ridge, and on the other by lofty mountains. The rock is a granitic gneiss, the hard surface of which has faithfully preserved the grooves and polished surfaces caused by ancient glaciers. Excepting the small flat above mentioned, there is no level ground in this neighborhood, and indeed, it would be difficult to find standing room on much of the Coast.

On the 28th we took advantage of a moderate breeze to sail up the Sound. The scenery is very remarkable. The mountains have an average height of 2000 feet, and a few peaks rise to 4000 to 5000 feet. They are mere shapeless masses of rock, covered only with a low straggling scrub, excepting in a few gullies where alone there are trees of any size. For several thousand feet above the water level, and probably from far beneath it, the rock has been smoothed and planed down by the ice action. There are very few ravines for the drainage of these mountains, the rain running off in precipitous torrents, which scour paths down their sides from 60 to 80 yards in width. One of the most remarkable of these torrents occurs on Secretary Island, where a large body of water leaps from the top of a precipice about 2000 ft. in height, almost to the sea level.