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ACROSS PATAGONIA.
[Illustration: CROSSING THE CABEZA DEL MARE.]
ACROSS PATAGONIA
by
LADY FLORENCE DIXIE
With Illustrations from Sketches by Julius Beerbohm
Engraved by Whymper and Pearson
[Illustration: 'PUCHO.']
London:
Richard Bentley and Son
Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen
1880
The rights of Translation and Reproduction are reserved.
Printed by R. & R. Clark, Edinburgh.
TO
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS,
ALBERT EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES,
THIS WORK
DESCRIPTIVE OF
SIX MONTHS' WANDERINGS OVER UNEXPLORED
AND UNTRODDEN GROUND,
IS BY KIND PERMISSION RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS'S
OBLIGED AND OBEDIENT SERVANT,
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
WHY PATAGONIA?--GOOD-BYE--THE START--DIRTY WEATHER--
LISBON--THE ISLAND OF PALMA--PERNAMBUCO Pages 1-11
CHAPTER II.
BAHIA--RIO DE JANEIRO--RIO HARBOUR--THE TOWN--AN
UPSET--TIJUCA--A TROPICAL NIGHT--MORE UPSETS--SAFETY
AT LAST 12-25
CHAPTER III.
BEAUTIES OF RIO--MONTE VIDEO--STRAITS OF MAGELLAN--
TIERRA DEL FUEGO--ARRIVAL AT SANDY POINT--PREPARATIONS
FOR THE START--OUR OUTFIT--OUR GUIDES 26-39
CHAPTER IV.
THE START FOR CAPE NEGRO--RIDING ALONG THE STRAITS--CAPE
NEGRO--THE FIRST NIGHT UNDER CANVAS--UNEXPECTED
ARRIVALS--OUR GUESTS--A NOVEL PICNIC--ROUGH RIDING--
THERE WAS A SOUND OF REVELRY BY NIGHT Pages 40-51
CHAPTER V.
DEPARTURE OF OUR GUESTS--THE START FOR THE PAMPAS--AN
UNTOWARD ACCIDENT--A DAY'S SPORT--UNPLEASANT EFFECTS OF
THE WIND--OFF CAPE GREGORIO. 52-61
CHAPTER VI.
VISIT TO THE INDIAN CAMP--A PATAGONIAN--INDIAN CURIOSITY
--PHYSIQUE--COSTUME--WOMEN--PROMINENT CHARACTERISTICS
--AN INDIAN INCROYABLE--SUPERSTITIOUSNESS 62-73
CHAPTER VII.
THE PRAIRIE FIRE 74-80
CHAPTER VIII.
UNPLEASANT VISITORS--"SPEED THE PARTING GUEST"--OFF
AGAIN--AN OSTRICH EGG--I'ARIA MISLEADS US--STRIKING
OIL--PREPARATIONS FOR THE CHASE--WIND AND HAIL--A
GUANACO AT LAST--AN EXCITING RUN--THE DEATH--HOME--
HUNGRY AS HUNTERS--"FAT-BEHIND-THE-EYE." 81-99
CHAPTER IX.
ELASTIC LEAGUES--THE LAGUNA BLANCA--AN EARTHQUAKE--
OSTRICH-HUNTING 100-115
CHAPTER X.
DEPARTURE FROM LAGUNA BLANCA--A WILD-CAT--IBIS SOUP--A
FERTILE CAÑADON--INDIAN LAW AND EQUITY--OUR FIRST PUMA
--COWARDICE OF THE PUMA--DISCOMFORTS OF A WET NIGHT--A
MYSTERIOUS DISH--A GOOD RUN Pages 116-127
CHAPTER XI.
A NUMEROUS GUANACO HERD--A PAMPA HERMIT--I'ARIA AGAIN
LOSES THE WAY--CHORLITOS--A NEW EMOTION--A MOON
RAINBOW--WEATHER WISDOM--OPTIMIST AND PESSIMIST--WILD
FOWL ABUNDANT 128-137
CHAPTER XII.
A MONOTONOUS RIDE--A DREARY LANDSCAPE--SHORT FUEL
RATIONS--THE CORDILLERAS--FEATURES OF PATAGONIAN SCENERY
--HEAT AND GNATS--A PUMA AGAIN--"THE RAIN IS NEVER
WEARY"--DAMPNESS, HUNGER, GLOOM--I'ARIA TO THE RESCUE--
HIS INGENUITY 138-150
CHAPTER XIII.
A SURPRISE--A STRANGE SCENE--CALIFATÉ BERRIES--GUANACO
STALKING--A DILEMMA--MOSQUITOES--A GOOD SHOT--
MOSQUITOES 151-161
CHAPTER XIV.
AN UNKNOWN COUNTRY--PASSING THE BARRIER--CLEOPATRA'S
NEEDLES--FOXES--A GOOD RUN--OUR FOREST SANCTUARY--
ROUGHING IT--A BATH--A VARIED MENU 162-173
CHAPTER XV.
EXCURSIONS INTO THE MOUNTAINS--MYSTERIES OF THE
CORDILLERAS--WILD HORSE TRACKS--DEER--MAN THE
DESTROYER 174-183
CHAPTER XVI.
AN ALARM--THE WILD-HORSES--AN EQUINE COMBAT--THE WILD
STALLION VICTORIOUS--THE STRUGGLE RENEWED--RETREAT OF
THE WILD HORSES 184-189
CHAPTER XVII.
EXCURSION TO THE CLEOPATRA NEEDLES--A BOG--A WINDING
RIVER--DIFFICULT TRAVELLING--A STRANGE PHENOMENON--A
FAIRY HAUNT--WILD HORSES AGAIN--THEIR AGILITY--THE
BLUE LAKE--THE CLEOPATRA PEAKS--THE PROMISED LAND 190-200
CHAPTER XVIII.
WE THINK OF RETURNING--GOOD-BYE TO THE CORDILLERAS--THE
LAST OF THE WILD HORSES--MOSQUITOES--A STORMY NIGHT--A
CALAMITY--THE LAST OF OUR BISCUIT--UTILITY OF
FIRE-SIGNALS 201-212
CHAPTER XIX.
ISIDORO--AN UNSAVOURY MEAL--EXPENSIVE LOAVES--GUANACO
SCARCE--DISAPPOINTMENT--NIGHT SURPRISES US--SUPPERLESS
--CONTINUED FASTING--NO MEAT IN THE CAMP 213-223
CHAPTER XX.
THE HORSES LOST!--UNPLEASANT PROSPECTS--FOUND--SHORT
RATIONS--A STRANGE HUNT--A STERN CHASE--THE MYSTERY
SOLVED--THE CABEZA DEL MAR--SAFELY ACROSS--A DAMP
NIGHT--CABO NEGRO AGAIN 224-238
CHAPTER XXI.
CABO NEGRO--HOME NEWS--CIVILISATION AGAIN--OUR
DISREPUTABLE APPEARANCE--PUCHO MISSING--THE COMING OF
PUCHO--PUCHO'S CHARACTERISTICS 239-251
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PUCHO _Title_
CROSSING THE CABEZA DEL MAR _Frontispiece_
A GUANACO ON THE LOOK-OUT _Page_ 1
THE STRAITS OF MAGELLAN _To face page_ 40
"COLLECTING THE 'TROPILLA'--SADDLING UP" " 56
INDIAN CAMP " 64
GUANACOS " 96
THE LAST DOUBLE " 112
THE PUMA'S DEATH-SPRING " 146
RAVINE ENTRANCE TO THE CORDILLERAS " 162
THE "CLEOPATRA NEEDLES" " 166
ENCAMPMENT IN THE CORDILLERAS " 168
"THE WILD-HORSE GLEN" " 178
"WE WERE THE FIRST WHO EVER BURST ON TO THAT SILENT SEA" " 198
[Illustration: A GUANACO ON THE LOOK-OUT.]
CHAPTER I.
WHY PATAGONIA?--GOOD-BY--THE START--DIRTY WEATHER--
LISBON--THE ISLAND OF PALMA--PERNAMBUCO.
"Patagonia! who would ever think of going to such a place?" "Why, you
will be eaten up by cannibals!" "What on earth makes you choose such
an outlandish part of the world to go to?" "What can be the
attraction?" "Why, it is thousands of miles away, and no one has ever
been there before, except Captain Musters, and one or two other
adventurous madmen!"
These, and similar questions and exclamations I heard from the lips of
my friends and acquaintances, when I told them of my intended trip to
Patagonia, the land of the Giants, the land of the fabled Golden City
of Manoa. What was the attraction in going to an outlandish place so
many miles away? The answer to the question was contained in its own
words. Precisely because it was an outlandish place and so far away, I
chose it. Palled for the moment with civilisation and its
surroundings, I wanted to escape somewhere, where I might be as far
removed from them as possible. Many of my readers have doubtless felt
the dissatisfaction with oneself, and everybody else, that comes over
one at times in the midst of the pleasures of life; when one wearies
of the shallow artificiality of modern existence; when what was once
excitement has become so no longer, and a longing grows up within one
to taste a more vigorous emotion than that afforded by the monotonous
round of society's so-called "pleasures."
Well, it was in this state of mind that I cast round for some country
which should possess the qualities necessary to satisfy my
requirements, and finally I decided upon Patagonia as the most
suitable. Without doubt there are wild countries more favoured by
Nature in many ways. But nowhere else are you so completely alone.
Nowhere else is there an area of 100,000 square miles which you may
gallop over, and where, whilst enjoying a healthy, bracing climate,
you are safe from the persecutions of fevers, friends, savage tribes,
obnoxious animals, telegrams, letters, and every other nuisance you
are elsewhere liable to be exposed to. To these attractions was added
the thought, always alluring to an active mind, that there too I
should be able to penetrate into vast wilds, virgin as yet to the foot
of man. Scenes of infinite beauty and grandeur might be lying hidden
in the silent solitude of the mountains which bound the barren plains
of the Pampas, into whose mysterious recesses no one as yet had ever
ventured. And I was to be the first to behold them!--an egotistical
pleasure, it is true; but the idea had a great charm for me, as it has
had for many others. Thus, under the combined influence of the above
considerations, it was decided that Patagonia was to be the chosen
field of my new experiences.
My party consisted of Lord Queensberry and Lord James Douglas, my two
brothers, my husband, and myself, and a friend, Mr. J. Beerbohm, whose
book, _Wanderings in Patagonia_, had just been published when we left
England. We only took one servant with us, knowing that English
servants inevitably prove a nuisance and hindrance in expeditions of
the kind, when a great deal of "roughing it" has to be gone through,
as they have an unpleasant knack of falling ill at inopportune
moments.
Our outfit was soon completed, and shipped, together with our other
luggage, on board the good ship "Britannia," which sailed from
Liverpool on the 11th December 1878. We ourselves were going overland
to join her at Bordeaux, as we thereby had a day longer in England.
Then came an unpleasant duty, taking leave of our friends. I hate
saying good-bye. On the eve of a long journey one cannot help thinking
of the uncertainty of everything in this world. The voice that bids
you God-speed may, before you return, perhaps be silent for ever. The
face of each friend who grasps your hand vividly recalls some scene of
pleasant memory. Now it reminds you of some hot August day among the
purple hills of Scotland, when a good bag, before an excellent lunch,
had been followed by some more than usually exciting sport. The
Highlands had never looked so beautiful, so merry a party had never
clambered down the moors homeward, so successful a day had never been
followed by so jolly an evening; and then, with a sigh, as your
friend leaves you, you ask yourself, "Shall I ever climb the moors
again?" Now it is to Leicestershire that your memory reverts. The
merry blast of the huntsman's horn resounds, the view-halloa rings out
cheerily on the bright crisp air of a fine hunting morning; the fox is
"gone away," you have got a good start, and your friend has too. "Come
on," he shouts, "let us see this run together!" Side by side you fly
the first fence, take your horse in hand, and settle down to ride over
the broad grass country. How distinctly you remember that run, how
easily you recall each fence you flew together, each timber-rail you
topped, and that untempting bottom you both got so luckily and safely
over, and above all, the old farm-yard, where the gallant fox yielded
up his life. Meanwhile, with a forced smile and a common-place remark,
you part; and together, perhaps, you may never hear the huntsman's
horn, never charge the ox-fence, never strive to be foremost in the
chase again!
With these thoughts passing through my mind I began to wonder why I
wanted to leave England. I remembered for the moment only the pleasant
features of the past, and remembering them, forgot the feelings and
circumstances which had prompted me to embark on my present
enterprise. The stern sex will possibly reprehend this exhibition of
female fickleness of purpose. May I urge in its palliation that my
weakness scarcely lasted longer than it has taken me to write this?
_14th December._--On a cold, rainy afternoon we steamed down from
Bordeaux in a little tender to join the "Britannia," which was
anchored off Pauillac. We were soon alongside, and were welcomed on
board by Captain Brough, under whose guidance we inspected, with a
good deal of interest, the fine ship which was to be our home for some
time. It would be superfluous for me to describe the excellent
internal arrangements on board; few of my readers, I imagine, but are
acquainted, either from experience or description, with the sumptuous
and comfortable fittings-up of an Ocean passenger-steamer.
Soon the anchor was up--the propeller was in motion, and our nerves
had hardly recovered from the shock inflicted by the report of the gun
which fired the parting salute, ere Pauillac was scarcely
distinguishable in the mist and rain astern. By the time dinner was
over we were altogether out of sight of land, the rain was still
falling heavily, and prognostications of dirty weather were being
indulged in by the sailors. Giving a last look at the night, I turned
into the captain's cosy deck-house, where I found my companions deep
in the intricacies and wranglings of a rubber at whist, in which I,
too, presently took a hand. As time went on, indications that it was
getting rather rough were not wanting, in the swaying of the ship and
the noise of the wind; but so comfortable were we in our little cabin,
with the curtains drawn and lamps lit, that we were quite astonished
when the captain paid us a visit at about nine o'clock, and told us
that it was blowing a regular gale.
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the ship heeled suddenly
over under a tremendous shock, which was followed by a mighty rush of
water along the decks. We ran out, thinking we must have struck a
rock. The night was as black as pitch, and the roaring of the wind,
the shouts of the sailors, and the wash of the water along the decks,
heightened with their deafening noise, the anxiety of the moment.
Fortunately the shock we had experienced had no worse cause than an
enormous sea, which had struck the ship forward, and swept right aft,
smashing whatever opposed its destructive course, and bending thick
iron stanchions as if they had been mere wires.
As soon as the hubbub attendant on this incident had somewhat
subsided, thankful that it had been no worse, we returned to our game
at whist, which occupied us till eleven o'clock, at which hour, "all
lights out" being the order of the ship, we turned into our cabins to
sleep the first night of many on board the "Britannia."
The next day was fine and sunny, and so the weather continued till we
reached Lisbon, three days after leaving Bordeaux, when it grew rather
rough again. At Lisbon we remained a day, taking in coal and fresh
provisions--and then once more weighed anchor, not to drop it again
till the shores of the New World should have been reached.
Just as it was beginning to dawn on the morning of the second day
after leaving Lisbon, I was awakened by the speed of the vessel being
reduced to half its usual ratio, for so accustomed does one become in
a short time to the vibration of the screw, that any change from its
ordinary force immediately disturbs one's sleep. Looking out of my
cabin-window I could see that we were close to land, so, dressing
hurriedly, I went on deck. We seemed to be but a stone's-throw from an
island, whose bold rugged heights rose up darkly against the pale
light that shone in the morning sky. At one point of the shore the
revolving light of a beacon flashed redly at intervals, growing
fainter and fainter each time, as day slowly broke, and a golden haze
began to flood the eastern horizon. In the darkness the island looked
like a huge bare rock, but daylight showed it clothed in tolerably
luxuriant vegetation. The presence of man was indicated by the little
white houses, which could be distinguished nestling in crannies of its
apparently steep green slopes. This was the island of Palma, one of
the Canary group, and small though it looked, it numbers a good many
inhabitants, and furnishes a fair contingent of emigrants to the River
Plate, where "Canarios," as they are called, are favourably looked
upon, being a skilful, industrious race.
The days slipped quickly by, and soon, as we neared the equator, it
began to grow intensely hot. Christmas Day spent in the tropics did
not rightly appear as such, though we kept it in the orthodox manner,
the head-steward preparing quite a banquet, at which much merriment
reigned, and many speeches were spoken.
We arrived at Pernambuco on the 28th December, but did not go on
shore, as we were only stopping in the port a couple of hours, and
were told, moreover, that there is nothing to be seen when one is
there. We amused ourselves watching the arrival of some fresh
Brazilian passengers, who were going with us to Rio. The extensiveness
of their get-up might have vied with that of Solomon "in all his
glory"--but tall hats, white trousers, and frock-coats seemed
ludicrously out of place on board ship. Not less funny was the
effusiveness of their affectionate leave-takings. At parting they
clasped their friends to their breasts, interchanging kisses in the
most pathetic manner, and evincing an absence of _mauvaise honte_ in
the presence of us bystanders, which was at once edifying and
refreshing. _Autres pays, autres moeurs._
Some boatmen came alongside, bringing baskets of the celebrated
Pernambuco white pineapples. We bought some of this fruit, which we
thought delicious: it is the only tropical fruit which, in my opinion,
can vie with European kinds. "Luscious tropical fruit" sounds very well,
as does "the flashing Southern Cross;" but nearer acquaintance with
both proves very disappointing, and dispels any of the illusions one
may have acquired respecting them, from the over-enthusiastic
descriptions of imaginative travellers. Very soon the captain came off
shore again, with the mails, etc. A bell was rung, the fruit-vendors
were bundled over the side of the ship, chattering and vociferating,--last
kisses were interchanged by the Brazilian passengers and their
friends, up went the anchor, round went the screw, bang! went our
parting salute, and, thank God, we are off again, with a slight breeze
stealing coolingly over us, doubly grateful after the stifling heat
which oppressed us while at anchor.