THE DUTCH WEST INDIA COMPANY—RENEWED SEARCH FOR THE TERRA AUSTRALIS INCOGNITA—JACOB ROGGEWEIN—HIS VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY—BRUSH WITH PIRATES—ARRIVAL AT JUAN FERNANDEZ—EASTER ISLAND—ITS INHABITANTS—ENTERTAINMENT OF ONE ON BOARD THE SHIP—A MISUNDERSTANDING—PERNICIOUS AND RECREATION ISLANDS—GLIMPSE OF THE SOCIETY ISLANDS—A FAMINE IN THE FLEET—ARRIVAL AT NEW BRITAIN—CONFISCATION OF THE SHIP AT BATAVIA—DECISION OF THE STATES-GENERAL—VITUS BEHRING—BEHRING'S STRAIT—DESCRIPTION OF THE SCENE—DEATH OF BEHRING—SUBSEQUENT SURVEY OF THE STRAIT.

The monopoly of the Dutch East India Company had been somewhat disturbed, as early as the year 1621, by the formation and charter of the Dutch West India Company. The latter held the exclusive commerce of the African coast from the tropic of Cancer to the Cape of Good Hope, and that of the American coast both upon the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. In 1674, its power and influence were somewhat extended by a fresh grant of privileges and an increase of capital. It was necessary for any one proposing a new scheme of commerce within the limits under their control, to apply to the Company for permission to execute it. A mathematician by the name of Roggewein, a native of the province of Zealand, formed a project, in 1696, for the discovery of the vast continent and islands supposed to exist in the South under the name of Terra Australis Incognita. He died, however, before any step was taken by the Company in furtherance of his designs. His son, Jacob Roggewein, renewed the application in 1721, presenting a memorial, in accordance with which immediate orders were given for equipping three vessels,—the Eagle, of thirty-six guns, the Tienhoven, of twenty-eight, and the African galley, of fourteen. Roggewein was made admiral, and two hundred and seventy-one men were embarked upon the three ships. They sailed from the Texel on the 21st of August, 1721.

When approaching the Canaries, they saw a fleet of five sail, carrying white, red, and black colors, which caused the admiral to suspect them to be pirates. He gave the signal for action, when the enemy struck their red flag and hoisted a black one, on which was a death's-head with a powder-horn and crossbones. A brisk encounter succeeded; and, after two hours, the pirates spread their canvas and bore away with all speed. Roggewein did not follow them,—as all ships of the West and East India Companies had strict orders to pursue their course and never to give chase. He had a long and painful passage across the Atlantic,—the crews suffering from heat, hunger, thirst, and the scurvy. Many of the men had high fevers, and some of them fits like the epilepsy.

During a terrible hurricane on the 21st of December, the Tienhoven parted company, and the Eagle and the African galley kept on together as far as the Strait of Magellan. In this latitude, Roggewein saw the group of islands which a French privateer had named Islands of St. Louis, but which some Dutch traders had subsequently called the New Islands. Roggewein baptized the group anew, and, thinking that if it should ever be inhabited the people would be the antipodes of the Dutch, gave it the name of Belgia Australis. He determined to make the passage through Lemaire's Strait, and, being propelled by a favorable wind and rapid currents, attained the western coast of America in six days' time. Whenever the weather was clear the nights were exceedingly short; for, though it was the middle of January, the Antarctic summer was at its height. On arriving at the island of Juan Fernandez, Roggewein was surprised and rejoiced to see the Tienhoven safe at the rendezvous. The three captains dined together the next day, and made merry over their mutual convictions of each others' unhappy shipwreck.

After a considerable run to the westward, Roggewein discovered, on the 14th of April, 1722, an island sixteen leagues in extent, to which he gave the name of Easter Island, in commemoration of the day. This was one of the most important discoveries ever made in the Pacific; and Easter Island is, for many reasons, one of the most famous oases in that desert of water. Roggewein thus speaks of his first adventure there:—"One of the inhabitants came out to us, two miles from shore, in a canoe. We gave him a piece of cloth, for he was quite naked. He was also offered beads and other toys: he hung them all, with a dried fish, about his neck. His body was all painted with every kind of figures. He was brown: his ears were extremely long and hung down to his shoulders, occasioned, doubtless, by wearing large, heavy ear-rings. He was tall, strong, robust, and of an agreeable countenance. He was gay, brisk, and easy in his behavior and manner of speaking. A glass of wine was given to him: he took it, but, instead of drinking it, threw it in his eyes, which surprised us very much. We then dressed him and put a hat upon his head; but he wore it very awkwardly. After he was regaled with food, the musicians were ordered to play on different instruments: the symphony made him very merry, and he began to leap and dance. We sent him back with presents, that the others might know in what manner we had received him. He seemed to leave us with regret, praying with great violence and uttering the word 'Odorraga! odorraga!' The next day large numbers of his countrymen came to our new anchorage, bringing us fowls and roots. At sunrise they prostrated themselves with their faces towards the east, and lighted fires as morning burnt-offerings to their idols, of which there were many upon the coast." Of these supposed idols we shall speak hereafter.

During the landing, in which one hundred and fifty of the crew took part, an islander was accidentally shot; and subsequently, as some of them touched, from curiosity, the Dutch fire-arms, a volley of bullets was discharged at them, and among the killed was the man who had first gone on board the admiral's ship. The consternation and grief of the natives was very great: they brought all kinds of provisions as ransom for the dead bodies. They threw themselves upon their knees, and offered branches of palms in sign of peace. The Dutch carried their outrages no further, but exchanged assurances of good will. They gave sixty yards of painted cloth for eight hundred fowls, some bundles of sugarcane, and a large quantity of plantains, cocoanuts, figs, and potatoes. Roggewein was of opinion that the island might be colonized to advantage, as the air was wholesome and the soil rich: the low lands seemed fitted to produce corn, and the higher grounds well adapted to vineyards. He intended to land with a sufficient force to make a general survey; but, in the mean time, a west wind forced him from his anchorage and drove him out to sea.

He soon found himself in the wide tract which had obtained the name of Bad Sea, on account of the brackish water of one of its islands. Through this region he sailed eight hundred leagues, and, by a change of wind, was driven with his consorts among a number of islands, by which they were considerably embarrassed. The Africa, which drew the least water, was sent in advance, but soon got upon the rocks and fired signals of distress. Night came on, and the natives, alarmed by the reports, kindled fires and came in crowds to the shore. The Dutch, whose confusion of mind seems to have been extreme, fired upon them without ceremony, that they might have as few dangers as possible to contend with at once. In the morning the Africa was found to be jammed between two rocks, from whence she could not be disengaged. She was therefore abandoned. The island upon which she was lost was named Pernicious Island. Five men deserted here, and were left behind. Eight leagues from Pernicious, an island, discovered at daybreak, was named Aurora; and another, seen at sunset, was called Vesper. At another, which they named the Island of Recreation, a party sent on shore for salad and scurvy-grass for the sick had so desperate an encounter with the natives, that, when a second landing was proposed, not a man could be prevailed upon to make the dangerous attempt.

Roggewein was now convinced that no Terra Incognita was to be discovered in the latitude he had kept, and therefore resolved, in accordance with his instructions, to return home by way of the East Indies. His crews were so reduced that a further loss of twenty men would compel him to abandon one of his remaining vessels. The officers regretted this decision; for they were anxious to visit the lands named Solomon's Islands by Mendana on account of their supposed wealth; but they were now compelled to return by way of New Britain, the Moluccas, and the East Indies.

Not far from Recreation Island, a group was discovered by the captain of the Tienhoven, and was named, from him, Bowman's Islands. The natives came off to the ships with fish, cocoanuts, and plantains. They were generally white, except that some were bronzed by the heat of the sun. They appeared gentle and humane: their bodies were not painted, and were clothed from the waist downward with fringes of woven silk. Around their necks they wore strings of odoriferous flowers. Roggewein describes them as altogether the most civilized and honest nation he had seen in the South Sea:—"Charmed with our arrival, they received us as divinities, and testified afterwards great regret when they perceived we were preparing to depart: sadness was painted in their countenance as we left." These islands are supposed to have been the most northerly of the group now known as the Society Islands.

During the long run to New Britain, the frightful effects of bad provisions were made painfully manifest, for the salt meat had long been decayed, the bread was full of maggots, and the water intolerably putrid. The scurvy began to cut off four and five men a day. Cries and groans were incessantly heard in all parts of the ship: those who were well fainted at the stench of the carcasses. Some were reduced to skeletons, so that the skin cleaved to their bones, while others swelled to a monstrous and disgusting size. The journal says that "an anabaptist of twenty-five years old called out continually to be baptized, and when told, with a sneer, that there was no parson on board, became quiet, and died with great resignation." At last the high land of New Britain put an end to their miseries,—for which there was no cure on earth except fresh meat, green vegetables, and pure water.

The expedition intrusted to Roggewein having proved abortive by the failure to find a Southern continent, we shall follow his adventures no farther. It will suffice to say that his ships were confiscated at Batavia by the Dutch East India Company,—a proceeding which the West India Company resented by commencing an action for damages. After a long litigation, the States-General decreed that the former Company should furnish the latter with two ships better than those confiscated, should refund the full value of their cargoes, should pay the wages of both crews to the day of their return to Holland, together with the costs, and a heavy fine by way of punishment for having so manifestly abused their authority.

We come now to the first expedition at sea made by Russia for the purpose of extending and promoting the science of geography. Vitus Behring was a Dane in the Russian service, having been tempted by the encouragements held out to foreign mariners by Peter the Great. He had risen to the rank of captain in 1725, when the Empress Catherine, who was anxious to promote discovery in the Northeast of Asia and to settle the question, then doubtful, as to the existence of a strait between Asia and America, appointed him to the command of an expedition fitted out for that purpose. During a period of seven years, having travelled overland to Kamschatka, he explored rivers, sounded and surveyed the coasts, and sailed as far to the northward as the season and the strength of his very inferior boats would permit. In 1732, he was made captain-commander, and the next year was ordered to conduct an expedition fitted out on a very extensive scale for purposes of discovery. In 1740, he reached Okhotsk, where vessels had previously been built for him. He sailed for Awatska Bay, where he founded the settlement of Petropaulowski, known in English as the Harbor of Peter and Paul. Sailing to the northward, he landed upon the American coast, giving name to Mount St. Elias, and then, returning to the westward, struck the continent of Asia, finding a strait fifty miles wide between the two continents at the point where they approach each other the nearest. This, in honor of its discoverer, is called Behring's Strait.

The following description of this scene of desolation, as it first broke upon Behring's eye, is due to the imagination of Eugene Sue:—"The month of September," he says, "is at its close. The equinox has come with darkness, and sullen night will soon displace the short and gloomy days of the Pole. The sky, of a dark violet color, is feebly lighted by a sun which dispenses no heat, and whose white disk, scarcely elevated above the horizon, pales before the dazzling brightness of the snow. To the north, this desert is bounded by a coast bristling with black and gigantic rocks. At the foot of their Titanic piles lies motionless the vast ice-bound ocean. To the east appears a line of darkish green, whence seem to creep forth numerous white and glassy icebergs. This is the channel which now bears the name of Behring. Beyond it, and towering above it, are the vast granitic masses of Cape Prince of Wales, the extreme point of North America. These desolate latitudes are beyond the pale of the habitable world. The piercing cold rends the very stones, cleaves the trees, and bursts the ground, which groans in producing the germs of its icy herbage. A few black pines, the growth of centuries, pointing their distorted tops in different directions of the solitude, like crosses in a churchyard, have been torn up and hurled around in confusion by the storm. The raging hurricane, not content with uprooting trees, drives mountains of ice before it, and dashes them, with the crash of thunder, the one against the other.

"And now a night without twilight has succeeded to the day,—dark, dark night! The heavy cupola of the sky is of so deep a blue that it appears black, and the Polar stars are lost in the depths of an obscurity which seems palpable to the touch. Silence reigns alone. But suddenly a feeble glimmer appears in the horizon. At first it is softly brilliant, blue as the light which precedes the rising of the moon; then the effulgence increases, expands, and assumes a roseate hue. Strange and confused sounds are heard,—sounds like the flight of huge night birds as they flap their wings heavily over the plain. These are the forerunners of one of those imposing phenomena which strike with awe all animated nature. An aurora borealis, that magnificent spectacle of the Polar regions, is at hand. In the horizon there appears a semicircle of dazzling brightness. From the centre of this glowing hemisphere radiate blazing columns and jets of light, rising to measureless heights and illumining heaven, earth, and sea. They glide along the snows of the desert, empurpling the blue tops of the ice-mountains and tinging with a deepened red the tall black rocks of the two continents. Having thus reached the fulness of its splendor, the aurora grows gradually pale, and diffuses its effulgence in a luminous mist. At this moment, from the fantastic illusions of the mirage, frequent in those latitudes, the American coast, though separated from that of Asia by the interposition of an arm of the sea, suddenly approaches so near it that a bridge might be thrown from one world to the other. Did human beings inhabit those regions and breathe the pale-blue vapors which pervade them, they might almost converse across the narrow inlet which serves to divide the continents. But now the aurora fades away, and the deceptive mirage sinks back into the shadowy realms from whence it came. Fifty miles of sullen waters roll again between the continents, and a three months' night settles over the ghastly and appalling scene."

It is not improbable that Behring passed to the north of East Cape, the promontory on the Asiatic side, into the Arctic Ocean beyond. He was soon compelled to return, owing to the disabled condition of his vessel, which was wrecked upon an island on the 3d of November, 1741. This island, which was little better than a naked rock, afforded neither food nor shelter; and Behring, suffering from the scurvy and sinking from disappointment, lay down in a cleft of the rock to die. The sand collected and drifted about him, half burying him alive. He would not suffer it to be removed, as it afforded him a grateful warmth. He died in this wretched condition on the 8th of December. The next summer, the few of his crew who survived the winter built a vessel from the timber of the wreck: in this they reached Kamschatka and made known the miserable fate of their commander.

Though Behring settled the fact of the existence of the strait which bears his name, it was reserved for Captain Cook to survey the entire length of both coasts. This he did with a precision and accuracy which left nothing for after-voyagers to perform, and which has made the geography of this remote and barbarous region as familiar as that of the Atlantic shores of America. The island upon which Behring died, and which was then uninhabited and without a shrub upon its surface, is now an important trading station, and affords comfortable winter quarters to vessels from Okhotsk and Kamschatka.