THE MYSTERIOUS LAND OF THE PATA-GOAS
Patagonia has always been a land of mystery. Only a few years ago the
geographers labelled it “no man’s land,” because no nation seemed
interested in it. Later Chile and Argentina, longing to expand, cast
envious eyes upon this great territory immediately adjoining their
borders, and parcelled it out between themselves. The Andes was made the
general boundary line, and this gave to Argentina by far the greatest
share of the territory. Even Tierra del Fuego, the Land of Fire, was thus
divided, so that each nation has a share in that large island which is
the last inhabited land on the way to the Antarctic continent.
Patagonia impresses the traveller as vast and elemental. Its natural
configuration is stamped with these characteristics. From its northern
boundary it tapers gradually to the Straits of Magellan. The Argentine
section naturally divides itself into three divisions, running north
and south. Along the Atlantic shores lie the pampas, the flat and level
plains. These plains rise in gently graduated terraces toward the west,
one level plain above another. Then follows a network of lagoons and
lakes, some connected by rivers and others by channels, many of which
shift and alter under the climatic influences. On the western side the
Andes range of the Cordilleras stand out against the sky like a mighty
barrier. They are a tumult of mountains ever climbing upwards, their
lofty gorges choked with glaciers, their hollows holding great lakes of
ice-cold blue waters, and about their bases stretch thousands of miles
of forests of which only the mere edge has been explored. Thus it is
that the vast extent of Patagonia offers the most extreme and the most
abrupt contrasts. Flat pampa, with hardly an undulation in sight, stands
in sight of mountains almost inaccessible in their steep escarpments.
Side by side these contrasts lie, mountain against plain, forest against
thorn-scrub. The wind is the only element common to both. For a thousand
miles the Atlantic coast is a low-lying, level, treeless series of bleak
and brown downs, with few bays that offer protection to shipping; the
Pacific coast, in Chile, is dented and notched with fiords, and the
shores are covered with dense forests due to the excessive rainfall.
Patagonia is a land of big distances. On the Atlantic coastland it is
often a ride of three or four days from one farm to another. The holdings
are measured by the square league and not by the quarter-section. There
is one farm that covers five hundred square leagues, or more than two
million acres of land, and is larger than the state of Rhode Island.
No wonder the distances seem almost appalling to the traveller. One
accustomed only to cities would indeed feel very forlorn here. As one
travels into the interior, a white face becomes more and more rare; empty
leagues upon leagues surround you on every side. One seems to stand alone
with only the wind, the mirages and the limitless distances, and the blue
sky above for a canopy. This wild land appears, according to geologists,
to have been the last habitation of the greater beasts of preceding ages.
It is now one of the last to be occupied by civilized man, and receive
its proper share of the human population.
The discovery of Patagonia dates from 1520, when that intrepid explorer,
Ferdinand Magellan, forced his way down the east coast of South
America in the face of continuous storms. With his little fleet of five
vessels he pushed on in the hope of finding a strait which connected
the two oceans. He was compelled to winter one season along the coast
of Patagonia. A mutiny broke out among his captains and only one
remained loyal. Two of the others were executed, and one was marooned
upon the shore. For months no signs of life appeared on shore, although
expeditions were sent a short distance into the interior; but one day
a painted savage, very tall, appeared. One of the crew wrote, “So tall
was this man that we came up to the level of his waist-belt. He was well
enough made and had a broad face, painted red, with yellow circles around
his eyes, and two heart-shaped spots on his cheeks.” Thus was the report
of giants inhabiting Patagonia first carried back to civilization. They
were named Pata-goas, big feet, and that name has since clung to the
country. Sir Francis Drake visited these shores a half-century later with
a small squadron, and during the succeeding hundred years a number of
navigators skirted along the coast. Several of them brought back tales of
the giants, but these have since been found erroneous, as the Indians
are not much taller than the North American Indians, whom they strongly
resemble in physical characteristics. Darwin visited this country early
in the last century and gave the first detailed account of the country
and people, and his report dwelt strongly upon the desolate character
of the land. Since then it has become better known, and a number of
travellers as well as scientists have visited Patagonia and recorded
their impressions. The Chilean and Argentine boundary commissions have
also been at work for several years, establishing the international
boundaries, and their reports have contained much valuable information.
On the eastern coast there are a number of settlements, such as Santa
Cruz, San Julian and Gallegos, at the mouths of the half-dozen rivers
which pour their icy waters across the wind-swept plains. Gallegos is the
name given by the Spaniards to the strong west wind, so this name was
given to a river, and, finally, to the little settlement at its mouth.
This village of corrugated iron is a Mecca for the sheep-men and Indians
who dwell in the vicinity. From it a few highways may be traced out on
the pampas, where they disappear. The Welsh have founded settlements
at Dawson, Gaimon and Trelew, which have grown into thriving colonies,
and there are a few smaller ones in the interior. The Welsh settlements
are made up of good sturdy folk, who are excellent pioneers for an
undeveloped country.
The sheep ranchers on these lonely pampas are interesting studies. Some
of them own hundreds of thousands of these useful little animals, and
there is one company that possesses more than two millions which are
kept on their several ranches. These are usually divided into herds
of a couple of thousand each. Each flock has several square miles of
pasture allotted to it. The shepherd has a number of dogs who aid him in
controlling the recalcitrant ones, and they understand their masters’
orders very well. These herders are Scotchmen, Germans and half-breeds.
The animals feed all the year around on the pastures. The successful
ranch in Patagonia must possess both a winter camp and summer camp. The
winter camp is land available for pasturage which is protected from the
fierce winds and where the snow does not fall too deep for the sheep to
get at the grass, as no provender is put up for them. The summer camp is
any other grazing land which is so exposed that sheep could not feed on
it during the winter. From this it may easily be seen that the number of
sheep that can be maintained is determined not by the total acreage, but
by the extent of winter camp. Even under the best conditions an unusually
severe winter greatly decimates a flock. At the end of winter the
shepherds always go out over the ranch, taking the pelts off the bodies
of the animals that have perished during the winter. Another feature to
be sought is accessibility for the bringing in of supplies and taking out
of the wool. For this reason most of the ranches are located near the
rivers so that boats can be used. From some places in the interior it is
a trip occupying days and weeks for the ranchman to transport the wool to
market.
[Illustration: A SHEEP DIP]
The _estancia_ buildings are usually insignificant affairs, for all the
material has to be brought long distances. One of the most distinctive
features is a large square corral into which the stock can be driven, and
the miles upon miles of wire fencing which spread out across the plains
in a thin line. Every farm has its own store, where the men get their
supplies at good prices. The “scab” is one of the enemies of the sheep
here, as elsewhere, and the ranchers constantly fight it. The “dip” is
usually employed, in which the sheep are washed several times each year.
It is expensive to keep the sheep free from this troublesome little
parasite, which spreads so rapidly, but it must be done, for it will eat
into the flesh and the sheep will frequently die before many days after
infection. The dip fluid is placed in large vats so deep that the sheep
must swim in order to get through it, and they are then driven into it
at one end and emerge on a dripping board at the other side, where they
are allowed to remain for a few minutes for the “dip” to drip and run
back into the pool. The cost of running a sheep ranch in Patagonia is
comparatively small because of the low value of the land and low wages
paid.
It is not difficult to leave civilization behind in Patagonia. For
hundreds of miles in the interior there are few pioneers and only an
occasional tribe of wandering Indians. Otherwise it is absolutely
unpeopled. Near the Cordilleras it is practically houseless; scarcely a
human inhabitant can be found, and little animal life flourishes under
the snow peaks and in the unmeasured spaces of virgin forest. There are
hundreds of square miles of forest land, gorges, open slopes and terraced
hollows, on which the eye of a white man has never yet fallen.
For the traveller across this vast land it is necessary to take a supply
of food and an entire camp outfit, including a reliable guide. A man
alone seems very puny within this vast setting. The wind-blown grass
stretches out as far as the eye can see, with the thorn and a green
shrub called “poison-bush” for variety. In other places the surface
undulates in graceful monotony, and occasionally a swift-flowing river
cuts across the plains on its impatient way to the sea. Mirages like
lakes or squadrons of cavalry will often be seen near the horizon.
Many long reaches are almost desert wastes and are known as the “land
without water.” Over the sterile wastes the cold winds from the Andes
sweep and raise great dust and sand storms which are almost blinding and
suffocating.
Herds of wild cattle are found in some places, although not in such
numbers as the stories that are sometimes heard down in that region
would lead one to believe. The guanaco is the principal game animal,
and helps out the traveller in the way of food. This animal is very much
like a wild llama and they are found by the thousands, although generally
in small herds. They look very picturesque when seen in an attentive
attitude, with their long sleek necks stretched out in inquiry or
curiosity. Wild ostriches may also be found in many parts, while duck and
geese are generally plentiful where there is water. Of the wild animals
the puma is the most dangerous, and will sometimes attack a man. He is
a terrible foe to the sheep farmer, levying heavy toll upon his flocks
before strychnine or a bullet puts an end to his career. The wolf is
another enemy of the farmer. The curious armadillo is quite common, and
is considered very good eating by the hunter.
Lake Buenos Aires is one of the big lakes of Patagonia. One writer,
who spent several weeks in that vicinity, says: “Lake Buenos Aires is
certainly the very heart of the wind’s domain. While we were there the
wind never died down; it blew all the time, often lifting sand and
gravel, and sometimes a great piece of our camp fire, sheltered as that
was. It raged on most days, blowing so hard that most people in England
would not have cared to venture out of doors.” This lake is the largest
of a chain of lakes which lie in the foothills of the great Andes system.
It is fully seventy-five miles in length from north to south, and its
waters are in perpetual motion from the action of the winds. Near the
lake is a stretch of arid land that is the very picture of desolation.
There is a very horror of bareness about it that almost makes the eyes
sick to look upon it. Right near it is one of those sudden contrasts that
one will find in Patagonia, fine and fertile land where sweet flowers
bloom in profusion. Lake Argentine is another large lake to the south of
the other. It is a great sheet of blue water, is higher up, and the peaks
of the Cordilleras are nearer. This lake and those farther south are
often filled with small icebergs, for the climate is getting colder all
the way.
At almost the southernmost point of the mainland lies the little city of
Punta Arenas. It is situated on the Straits of Magellan, and is sheltered
from the worst storms by the many islands which lie between it and the
Antarctic seas. Punta Arenas is the most southerly city in the world,
several hundred miles farther south than the Cape of Good Hope. There
is plenty of building space left in this city, but a few years ago, when
the boom was on, the people had visions of a southern Chicago. Fabulous
prices were asked for building lots and real estate agents were almost as
plentiful as the Indians. That time has passed and the town has dwindled.
Its latitude is about that of Labrador, but it is much more equable and
is not so severe as many imagine. Perhaps fifteen thousand people live
here and seem to be contented. It is a very mixed population. You can
hear Spanish, English, German, Italian, Russian and even the Chinese
mingled with the guttural tongues of the Indians. The Scotch are probably
the most thrifty of the inhabitants and many of them have lived there two
or three generations. There are many rough characters, some even who have
drifted from the mining camps of our western states. The loafing places
are the bars, where many brawls occur during the long winters. There are
clubs, however, where the well-to-do gather and have their games and
drink their favourite drinks just as they do the world over. Most of the
buildings are cheap one-story affairs, frequently built of the corrugated
iron so common in this land. Punta Arenas is a free port, and this
makes it a great supply station for vessels passing through the straits.
All the vessels passing through the straits call there for supplies and
coal, and this business, together with the trade in whaling products,
wool and furs, furnish the inhabitants with employment. It is one of the
great wool-exporting ports of the world, having shipped more than sixteen
million pounds of that commodity in a single season, and four hundred
thousand pelts. It is a beautiful ride through the Straits of Magellan,
with their many narrow channels, and the icebergs, which are always in
view.
[Illustration: NATIVE INDIANS OF PATAGONIA]
Out upon the pampas the traveller will occasionally stumble upon the
_toldos_ (huts) of the Tehuelche Indians. These are simply made huts
of the skins of the guanaco sewn loosely together at the edges, and
supported squarely upon awkward-looking props or posts forked at the top
to admit the ridge poles. The skins are fastened to the earth by wooden
pegs. The Tehuelches are the native Indians of Patagonia—the so-called
giants—and are well built specimens of manhood. These Indians live almost
as their ancestors did hundreds of years ago. They are still nomads and
exist entirely by the chase. They do not cultivate anything whatever,
but sometimes own a few cattle. In general they still dress in skins,
although some of them have purchased store clothes at the settlements. As
a rule they are mild mannered, when sober, and do not deserve the name of
being bloodthirsty savages. Their numbers have greatly decreased since
the first discovery of Patagonia through dissipation and disease, and
some have estimated that the total number yet remaining will not exceed a
few hundred. They still hunt with bows and arrows and the _bolas_. This
consists of three thongs of rawhide fastened together at one end, with
stones or bits of iron on the free end to give them weight. The Indian
throws the _bolas_ with marvellous accuracy at any animal he may be
pursuing, and the thongs wind themselves around the legs of the animal,
thus entangling it. The principal game animal is the guanaco, which
furnishes them food, raiment and shelter, and skins which they can barter
with the trader for fire-water or other luxuries.
They are an ignorant and superstitious race. A death will invariably
cause them to shift their camp, for to their superstitious minds the
place must be accursed. Sickness is always the work of the evil spirit
and is driven away by incantations. With them there are good spirits and
bad devils. The dominant spirit of evil is called Gualicho. He is an
ever-present terror, and they spend a good portion of the time in either
fleeing from his wrath or propitiating it. They believe in a future life
which will be much the same as the earthly one, except that there will
always be plenty of food with an abundance of grease.
There are practically no tribal laws, as the Tehuelches are usually
peaceable. Quarrels and fights occur only as a result of drink. Polygamy
is permitted but is uncommon. The women are well treated, although they
have the bulk of the work to do as among all primitive tribes. The men
practically live on their horses and a Tehuelche is lost without a steed.
The women are not at all overburdened with beauty. Progress does not
appeal to the Tehuelche. As his forefathers were, so is he content to
be—a human atom with a movable home, passing hither and thither upon the
waste and dreary spaces of his native land. He is silent when in the
presence of strangers, dignified at all times; unobtrusive as well as
inoffensive, and very lazy. He does not particularly care to mingle with
white people, but will not run away from them.
[Illustration: USELESS BAY, TIERRA DEL FUEGO]
The Fuegian Archipelago, that little known group of islands at the
southern extremity of South America, covers a goodly territory. It
contains as much land as Nebraska, and is several hundred miles long
from east to west. A perfect labyrinth of tortuous, wind-swept waterways
separate the hundreds of islands which form this group. They are no doubt
formed by the submerging of the lower end of the Andes Mountains. When
the land sank these stormy waters beat through the valleys and chiselled
the shores into incongruous shapes and labyrinths. They are not all a
desolate mass of ice and snow, however, but contain plains which are
covered with succulent grasses and slopes which are thickly wooded. The
largest island, called Tierra del Fuego, is half as large as Illinois. It
is divided longitudinally between Chile and Argentina, by far the largest
portion belonging to the former nation, and the best part of it too. This
name was originally given to the entire group of islands by Magellan
when he saw the trails of smoke made by the camp and signal fires of the
natives who dwelt on them.
Thirty years ago this entire island was roamed and hunted over by the
aborigines. The fact that the northern part consisted of open country,
with few ranges of hills, caused the white man to look upon it with
envious eyes, as pasturage for sheep. Then began a warfare against the
Indians which almost resulted in their extermination. Thousands of sheep
now quietly graze in the rich valleys and on the verdant plains, and
thrive very well indeed. Very little of the land is cultivated, although
perhaps susceptible of cultivation, but the marketing of the products
would be a difficult feature at the present time, and the season is
short. Its latitude is about that of Labrador but the climate is probably
milder, and its longitude is that of Boston. In the summer the grass is
green, but in the winter the chilly winds change it to a rich brown. The
ground rats are a terrible nuisance to the farmer, as they burrow in the
fields so much that they destroy half the usefulness of a good meadow.
The mountain slopes are covered with a thick growth of trees, ferns and
mosses up to a height of a thousand feet or more, due to the great amount
of rainfall, but above that distance the growth is very stunted. It seems
strange to see green trees and green grasses amid snows and glaciers,
but such is the contrast offered by this “land of the fire.” The trees
are mostly evergreen, not very high, but very close together. A deep bed
of moss, into which a man may sink knee-deep, generally surrounds them,
and large ferns with leaves a yard long grow in places otherwise bare.
Even bright flowers make this sombre landscape seem almost gay when the
sun shines on a summer day.
Desolation Island, on the Chilean side, is a bleak and barren island well
indicated by its name, while others are Clarence, St. Inas, and Navarin.
There are many others, from islands twenty miles in length to some so
small that a good base-ball pitcher could toss a stone clear over them.
Cape Horn is a monster rock which thrusts its jagged outline into the
Antarctic seas. It is a couple of hundred miles south of the Straits of
Magellan, and more than a thousand miles south of the Cape of Good Hope.
It is surrounded by waters that are tossed by terrific storms which
mariners fear. The hulks of wrecked vessels can be seen on every hand as
reminders of the terrible tribute which has been here levied. Even in
the Straits of Magellan the glaciers are always in sight, and masses of
ice hundreds of feet high are frequently seen, seeming to threaten the
venturesome mariner for invading those beautiful waters. It is sometimes
impossible for vessels to force their way through the Smythe Channel,
which is the most picturesque route through the Straits, but is least
used. There is not much animal life except seals, with occasionally a
whale, but wild ducks and geese are generally plentiful.
Midway on the southern coast of Tierra del Fuego, and on the Argentine
side, is a bleak and inhospitable coast upon which the government has
established a prison. This place, named Ushuaia, is the southernmost
settlement in the world. The barriers created by nature are impassable
without the massive and forbidding walls erected by man. To the south is
the unknown Antarctic, to the north the impassable barrier of snow-clad
peaks, and in all other directions the fathomless channels separating,
it from the other islands. With the exception of the irregular trip of a
small steamer from Punta Arenas and an occasional visit from an Argentine
warship, this little settlement is unvisited, and not even a telephone
or telegraph wire keeps it in communication with the world. There are
two prisons here—one for military and one for civil prisoners. In one are
the offenders of the Argentine army, and in the other several hundred
criminals, many of whom are the very dregs of humanity sent down here
from Buenos Aires. Here in this unknown quarter of the globe, guarded by
a few score of armed men, these unfortunates work on the roads, dress
stone for new and stronger walls, or make the coarse garments worn by
the prisoners. Few attempt to escape, and fewer still succeed, for
the loneliness and desolation alone would keep a prisoner where human
companionship might be found. There is little danger of a prisoner
escaping if he attempts, as there would be no means of a wanderer
supporting himself.
There are two races of Indians who inhabit these inhospitable islands,
the Yahgans and the Onas, both of whom are very low in intelligence.
Even though the climate is very cold a part of the year, these savages
formerly wore very little clothing, but greased their bodies with fish
oil that keeps out the cold. In recent years, however, they have begun to
wear warmer garments. They are very treacherous, and many murders have
been traced to them. They will mingle very little with white people,
but always hold themselves aloof. Their houses are of the most primitive
character and are frequently little more than a hole in the ground or
side of a hill, or a rude construction of brush on a skeleton of sticks
stuck in the ground. Sometimes they are made of guanaco skins sewn
together, from which the hair has been removed. They are not particular
about food, as to whether it is very fresh or not. They live entirely by
the chase and fishing, and in every way are as near to primitive savages
as it would be possible to find in the Americas. There is frequently a
dearth of food, and then it is that they are driven to eat the flesh
of a stranded whale or of an animal found dead. Ground rats and the
fishy-flavoured penguin are included on their regular bill of fare. As
usual among savage tribes, the women do the most of the work, and assist
in the hunting and fishing as well as prepare the meat after it has once
been caught.
The Yahgans are short and muscular and below medium height. Their
lower limbs seem rather stunted, but above the waist they are heavily
built. The Onas are better built and will average above the American in
stature. They are strong and well built specimens of the human race.
The struggle for existence has made them inexpressive in feature and
stoical in actions. Good fortune or ill fortune is met in much the same
way. Their settlements are now usually found in the regions which have
not attracted the white men. On these islands and the southern part
of the largest island where it is not rock, there is generally bog or
impenetrable forest, and here these pristine people dwell.