This was the place where I was to refit and whence I was to sail direct, once more, for Cape Pillar and the Pacific.
I remained at Port Angosto some days, busily employed about the sloop.
I stowed the tallow from the deck to the hold, arranged my cabin in better order, and took in a good supply of wood and water.

I also mended the sloop's sails and rigging, and fitted a jigger, which changed the rig to a yawl, though I called the boat a sloop just the same, the jigger being merely a temporary affair.
I never forgot, even at the busiest time of my work there, to have my rifle by me ready for instant use; for I was of necessity within range of savages, and I had seen Fuegian canoes at this place when I anchored in the port, farther down the reach, on the first trip through the strait.

I think it was on the second day, while I was busily employed about decks, that I heard the swish of something through the air close by my ear, and heard a "zip"-like sound in the water, but saw nothing.

Presently, however, I suspected that it was an arrow of some sort, for just then one passing not far from me struck the mainmast, where it stuck fast, vibrating from the shock--a Fuegian autograph.

A savage was somewhere near, there could be no doubt about that.