The visitors had the same tale to tell that seems universal—­bad trade, hard times, nothing doing.  How very familiar it seemed, to be sure.  Nevertheless, it could not be denied that their sole means of communication with the outer world, as well as market for their goods, the calling whale-ships, were getting fewer and fewer every year; so that their outlook was not, it must be confessed, particularly bright.  But their wants are few, beyond such as they can themselves supply.  Groceries and clothes, the latter especially, as the winters are very severe, are almost the only needs they require to be supplied with from without.  They spoke of the “Cape” as if it were only across the way, the distance separating them from that wonderful place being over thirteen hundred miles in reality.  Very occasionally a schooner from Capetown does visit them; but, as the seals are almost exterminated, there is less and less inducement to make the voyage.

Like almost all the southern islets, this group has been in its time the scene of a wonderfully productive seal-fishery.  It used to be customary for whaling and sealing vessels to land a portion of their crews, and leave them to accumulate a store of seal-skins and oil, while the ships cruised the surrounding seas for whales, which were exceedingly numerous, both “right” and sperm varieties.  In those days there was no monotony of existence in these islands, ships were continually coming and going, and the islanders prospered exceedingly.  When they increased beyond the capacity of the islands to entertain them, a portion migrated to the Cape, while many of the men took service in the whale-ships, for which they were eminently suited.

They are, as might be expected, a hybrid lot, the women all mulattoes, but intensely English in their views and loyalty.  Since the visit of H.M.S.  Galatea, in August, 1867, with the Duke of Edinburgh on board, this sentiment had been intensified, and the little collection of thatched cottages, nameless till then, was called Edinburgh, in honour of the illustrious voyager.  They breed cattle, a few sheep, and pigs, although the sheep thrive but indifferently for some reason or another.  Poultry they have in large numbers, so that, could they commend a market, they would do very well.

The steep cliffs, rising from the sea for nearly a thousand feet, often keep their vicinity in absolute calm, although a heavy gale may be raging on the other side of the island, and it would be highly dangerous for any navigator not accustomed to such a neighbourhood to get too near them.  The immense rollers setting inshore, and the absence of wind combined, would soon carry a vessel up against the beetling crags, and letting go an anchor would not be of the slightest use, since the bottom, being of massive boulders, affords no holding ground at all.  All round the island the kelp grows thickly, so thickly indeed as to make a boat’s progress through it difficult.