dismal place: 'We thought it very extraordinary,' he says, 'that an
island between the latitudes of 54° and 55° should, in the very
height of summer, be almost wholly covered with frozen snow, in some
places many fathoms deep. . . . The head of the bay was terminated by
ice-cliffs of considerable height, pieces of which were continually
breaking off, which made a noise like cannon. Nor were the interior
parts of the country less horrible. The savage rocks raised their
lofty summits

[1. "Climate and Time," p. 75.]

{p. 222}

till lost in the clouds, and valleys were covered with seemingly
perpetual snow. Not a tree nor a shrub of any size was to be seen.'"

I return to the legends.

The Gallinomeros of Central California also recollect the day of
darkness and the return of the sun:

"In the beginning they say there was _no light, but a thick darkness
covered all the earth_. Man stumbled blindly against man and against
the animals, the birds clashed together in the air, and confusion
reigned everywhere. The Hawk happening by chance to fly into the face
of the Coyote, there followed mutual apologies, and afterward a long
discussion on the emergency of the situation. Determined to make some
effort toward abating the public evil, the two set about a remedy.
The Coyote gathered a great heap, of tules" (rushes) "rolled them
into a ball, and gave it to the Hawk, together with some pieces of