THE PATAGONIANS--_Concluded_.
DOMESTIC LIFE.
PATAGONIAN MARRIAGE -- APPEAL OF A SUITOR -- REJECTION OF THE
OFFER, AND RESULT OF THE NEGOTIATION -- CURIOUS MODE OF SMOKING
-- PRESCRIPTION FOR A SICK CHILD -- PATAGONIANS AT HOME -- NATIVE
COOKERY -- PATAGONIAN ARCHITECTURE -- TREATMENT OF WOMEN, CHILDREN,
AND SLAVES -- MODE OF GOVERNMENT -- POWER OF THE CACIQUE -- NOTIONS
OF RELIGION -- OFFERINGS AND LIBATIONS -- FUNERALS IN PATAGONIA --
SECLUSION OF WIDOWS -- VISITS OF CONDOLENCE.
We will now glance at the domestic life of the Patagonians, if the word
“domestic” can be rightly applied to people who have no settled home or
_domus_.
How marriage is conducted among them is described by Captain Bourne,
who was kept a prisoner for a considerable time, and had every
opportunity of studying their manners and customs. It appeared that
in the house of the chief to whom he belonged there was a daughter--a
widow, with a young child. One evening, the tramp of many feet was
heard on the outside of the hut, together with the mutterings of
voices. Presently, one voice was heard louder than the rest, evidently
addressed to some one within the hut. It was the voice of a suitor
come to ask the hand of the young widow. The chief scornfully refused
the offer, saying that he was not worthy to be her husband, having no
horses or other property. The man admitted that at the present time he
did not happen to have any horses, but that he was a remarkably good
thief, and that, if the lady would only accept him, he would steal
horses, catch guanacos, and give her plenty of grease.
These overtures being rejected as contemptuously as the last, the
suitor addressed himself to the lady, who was very willing to accept
him, and entirely yielded when he repeatedly promised to bring home
plenty of grease for her. She then besought her father to listen to the
suitor’s application, but was angrily refused. Her mother then tried
to pacify the angry father, saying that the young man might fulfil his
promises, catch plenty of horses, and become a great chief.
This was too much for the old man. He jumped up in a towering passion,
seized the cradle in which his little grandchild was lying, flung it
out of the hut, snatched up every article which his daughter possessed,
threw them after the cradle, and then ordered her to follow her goods.
This was exactly what she wanted; so, accompanied by her mother, she
left the hut, and was joined by her intended husband.
A curious mode of smoking is practised among the Patagonians, which
somewhat resembles that which is used by the Damaras, as recorded on a
preceding page.
When one of these smoking parties is organized, the guests
assemble together, sometimes in a hut, and sometimes in the open
air. They gravely seat themselves in a circle, round a vessel of
water,--sometimes an ox-horn stuck in the ground, and sometimes a sort
of basin made of raw hide. All being assembled, one of them takes a
stone pipe, and fills it with a mixture of tobacco and the shavings of
some yellow wood.
The pipe being prepared, all the company lie flat on their faces, with
their mantles drawn up to the top of their heads. The pipe is then
lighted and passed round, each drawing into his lungs as much smoke
as he can swallow, and retains it as long as he can exist without
breathing. As soon as the smoke is expelled, the men begin a series of
groanings and gruntings, which become louder and louder, until they
are absolutely deafening. By degrees they die away; and when quiet
has been restored, each takes a draught of water, sits silently for a
space, and then slowly rises and moves away.
Captain Bourne is of opinion that this ceremony has in it something
of a religious element. The groaning and grunting might be due to
the tobacco, or the substance which is mixed with it, but the sounds
seemed to him to be louder and more emphatic than they would have been
if entirely involuntary; and the breathings, writhings, and other
accompaniments, the profound gravity, and the abstinence from speech,
all appeared to have some religious signification.
The same traveller gives a very amusing account of a visit paid by
a Patagonian physician to the hut of a chief. The party were just
preparing to shift their quarters, after the Patagonian fashion, when
one of the daughters came in, carrying a child who was crying loudly,
and who was supposed in consequence to be very ill. The journey was
stopped, and a messenger despatched for the wise man, who soon came,
and brought with him his magic medicines, rolled up in two pieces of
skin.
These were laid on the ground, and the doctor squatted by the side of
them, fixing a steady gaze on the child, who presently ceased crying.
Encouraged by this success, the wise man ordered a clay plaster to be
applied. This was done. Some yellow clay was brought, moistened until
it was like paint, and with this substance the child was anointed from
head to foot. The clay seemed to have but little good effect, for the
child began to cry as badly as ever.
The two mysterious packages were now untied, and out of one the doctor
took a bunch of rhea sinews, and from the other a rattle. The doctor
then fingered all the sinews successively, muttering something in a
very low tone of voice, and after he had muttered for some five minutes
or so, he seized his rattle and shook it violently. He next sat in
front of the patient, and stared at him as he had done before. After an
interval of silent staring, he turned to the chief and asked whether he
did not think that the child was better. A nod and a grunt expressed
assent, and the mother on being asked the same question gave a similar
response.
The same process was then repeated--the silent stare, the painting with
clay, the lingering of the sinews, the muttering of inaudible words,
the shaking of the rattle, and the concluding stare. The treatment
of the patient was then considered to be complete. The chief gave
the doctor two pipefuls of tobacco by way of fee. This was received
gratefully by the man of skill, who gave his rattle a final shake by
way of expressing his appreciation of the chief’s liberality, and went
his way. As soon as he had gone, the child resumed its crying, but
the parents were satisfied that it was better, and, as Captain Bourne
testifies, it soon became quite composed, and throve well afterward.
The general mode of life among the Patagonians is not particularly
alluring to persons of civilized habits, if we may judge from the
graphic picture drawn by Captain Bourne:--
“A few dry sticks and a bunch of dry grass were brought; mine host drew
from a convenient repository a brass tinder-box with a stone and a
piece of steel, and soon produced a blaze that brilliantly illuminated
the scene. By its light I was enabled to survey the first specimen of
Patagonian architecture that had blessed my vision. It was constructed
in a ‘pointed’ style, though not very aspiring, consisting of a row of
stakes about eight feet high, each terminating in a crutch or fork,
with a pole laid across them; two parallel rows of stakes on either
side about two feet high, with similar terminations and a similar
horizontal fixture; and a covering composed of skins of the guanaco
sewed together with the sinews of the ostrich, the only thread used by
the people. This covering is thrown over the framework and fastened by
stakes driven through it into the ground. For purposes of ventilation,
some interstices are left; but these again are half closed by skins
attached to the outside, so that the air from without and the smoke
from within (in default of a chimney) must insinuate themselves through
these apertures in great quantities.
“In truth, my first survey was rather hurried; the first cheerful gleam
had scarcely set my eyes on the look-out, when I was fain to shut
them against an intolerable smoke. In no long time I felt as bacon,
if conscious, might be supposed to feel in the process of curing. No
lapse of time was sufficient to reconcile the eyes, nostrils, and lungs
to the nuisance. Often have I been more than half strangled by it,
and compelled to lie with my face to the ground as the only endurable
position. ‘Talk that is worse than a smoky house’ must be something out
of date, or Shakespeare’s imagination never comprehended anything so
detestable as a Patagonian hut. The chief and his numerous household,
however, seemed to enjoy immense satisfaction, and jabbered and grunted
and played their antics and exchanged grimaces as complacently as if
they breathed a highly exhilarating atmosphere.
“My meditations and observations were shortly interrupted by
preparations for a meal. The chiefs better-half--or rather fifth-part,
for he had four wives--superintended the culinary operations, which
were as rude and simple as the hut where they were carried on. And now
my fancy began to conjure up visions of the beef, fowls, and eggs, the
promise of which had lured my men from the boat, had proved stronger
than suggestions of prudence, and had made me a prisoner. But these
dainties, if they existed anywhere within the chief’s jurisdiction,
were just at present reserved.
“The old hag threw down from the top of one of the stakes that
supported the tent the quarter of some animal, whether dog or guanaco
was past imagining. She slashed right and left with an old copper
knife with might and main, till it was divided into several pieces.
Then taking a number of crotched sticks about two feet long, and
sharpened at the points, she inserted the forked ends into pieces
of the meat, and drove the opposite points into the ground near the
fire, which, though sufficient to smoke and comfortably warm the mess,
was too feeble to roast it. At all events, time was too precious, or
their unsophisticated appetites were too craving, to wait for such an
operation, and the raw morsels were quickly snatched from the smoke,
torn into bits by their dirty hands, and thrown upon the ground before
us.
“The Indians seized them with avidity, and tossed a bit to me; but what
could I do with it? I should have no appetite for the dinner of an
alderman at such a time and place, but as for tasting meat that came in
such a questionable shape, there was no bringing my teeth or resolution
to it. While eyeing it with ill-suppressed disgust, I observed the
savages, like a horde of half-starved dogs, devouring their portions
with the greatest relish, seizing the fragment with their fine white
teeth, giving every sign of enjoyment, except what one is accustomed to
see in human beings.
“The old chief remarked the slight I was putting upon his hospitality.
‘Why don’t you eat, man? This meat very good to eat--very good to eat.
Eat, man, eat.’
“Seeing him so much excited, and not knowing what deeds might follow
his words if I refused, I thought it expedient to try to ‘eat what
was set before me, asking no questions,’--thinking, moreover, that if
there were any evil spirit in it that the fire had failed to expel, it
could not possibly have resisted the smoke. So, being sorely divided
between aversion to the strange flesh and fear of showing it, I forced
a morsel into my mouth. Its taste was by no means as offensive as its
appearance, and I swallowed it with less disgust than I had feared.
This was my first meal with the savages, and a sample of many others,
though better viands afterward varied their monotony now and then.”
It is most probable that the meat which was so rapidly cooked and eaten
was that of the guanaco. The Patagonians are in no way fastidious as to
their diet, and eat almost every animal which they kill, whether it be
guanaco, rhea, or cavy. They have a repugnance to the flesh of dogs,
though they cannot, like the Fuegians, be accused of eating the flesh
of human beings rather than that of dogs.
Their chief dainty is the flesh of a young mare, and it is rather
curious that these strange people will not, if they can help
themselves, eat that of a horse, unless it be disabled by an accident.
They are fond of the fat of mares and rheas, separating it from the
flesh by boiling, and pouring it into bladders, much as lard is treated
in this country. Yet the fat obtained from the guanaco is not stored
like that of the mare and rhea, but is eaten raw. As is the case with
the Fuegians, the Patagonians obtain a considerable amount of food
from the seashore, great quantities of limpets, mussels, and similar
creatures being gathered by the women and children.
Besides animal food, vegetables are consumed, though rather sparingly,
by the Patagonians. Two roots form part of their ordinary diet. One is
called “tus,” and looks something like a yam or potato. It is bulbous,
and when cleaned and properly cooked bears a strong resemblance to
a baked potato. The second root is called “chalas,” and is a long,
slender root, scarcely so thick as an ordinary pencil.
It is rather remarkable that the Patagonians do not seem to have
invented any intoxicating drink. They soon learn to appreciate rum and
other spirits, and will intoxicate themselves whenever they can procure
the means, but they obtain all fermented and distilled liquors from the
white traders, and not from their own manufacture. They have a sort of
cooling drink made of the juice of barberries mixed with water, but it
is drunk in its natural state, and is not fermented.
The dwellings of the Patagonians are worthy of a brief description,
inasmuch as they show the distinction between the Patagonian and
Fuegian ideas of architecture. The reader will remember that the
principal portion of the Fuegian hut consists of sticks and branches,
whereas the Patagonian only uses the sticks and poles by way of a
framework whereupon he can spread his tent of skins.
These huts, called by the Spanish “toldos,” and by the Patagonians
“cows,” are of variable dimensions. Generally they are little more
than sloping sheds, six or seven feet high in front, and only two
feet high at the back. The length of each toldo is about twelve feet,
and its width about nine feet. As east winds are hardly ever known
in Patagonia, the opening of the hut is always to the east, the skin
covering of this simple tent being impervious to wind and rain. A
Patagonian village, showing the form of these huts, is represented on
the 1187th page.
This is the ordinary kind of dwelling, but in some places a much
larger description of hut is erected for the chief or the medicine
man. These houses are gabled, being eight feet or so in height in the
middle, and sloping on either side to the wall, which is five feet or
so in height. Huts of this kind are nearly square, their depth rather
exceeding their length.
The sleeping accommodation of these habitations is very simple, and
consists of skins, which are spread on the floor. Other skins rolled up
are laid along the side of the hut, and serve as pillows, the children
lying in a corner by themselves, and the dogs sleeping at the feet of
their owners. Those children who are unable to walk are laid in simple
cradles made of square pieces of guanaco skin, hung hammockwise by four
ends to the rafters of the hut.
During the daytime the infants are kept, or rather packed, in cradles
made of flat pieces of board, over which some pliable sticks are
bent in a semicircular form. The child is placed between two pieces
of guanaco skin, fastened in the cradle, and can then be carried
about without trouble. Even when the family is shifting quarters, the
cradle can be hung on the saddle-bow of the mother’s horse, the little
occupant being perfectly contented with its situation.
It might seem from this statement that children are treated with
neglect. Such, however, is not the case, the Patagonians being
remarkable for their parental affection, and being much more inclined
to spoil their children by over-indulgence than to behave unkindly
toward them. Indeed, when a Patagonian chief wishes to change his
quarters, and the people do not wish to part with him, they take one of
his children, indulge it in every way, and declare that he must leave
it behind him. The affectionate parent cannot bring himself either to
leave his child, or to deprive it of the society of those who are kind
to it, and in consequence he remains with his people.
The condition of the women is a very tolerable one. They certainly have
to work hard all their lives unless their husband be rich enough to
purchase slaves, or be fortunate enough to procure them by a raid on
some other tribe. Many such slaves are obtained from the Fuegians, who
do not scruple even to sell their own relatives when they can procure
a good price for them. Even the wives of the chief men are not exempt
from labor unless their husbands happen to possess slaves.
Generally the wives are faithful to their husbands, but there are
cases where the woman has thought herself ill-treated, and has betaken
herself to another protector. Should he be an inferior, the aggrieved
husband makes him pay for his offence; but if a superior, he is obliged
to put up with his loss. Generally, however, the husband and wife live
happily together, and the husband thinks it a point of honor to take
his wife’s part if she should fall into a dispute, no matter whether
she be right or wrong. He will scold her severely in private, and
even inflict corporal punishment on her, for involving him in such a
dispute, but he will make a point of upholding her in public.
The mode of punishment of the Patagonians is rather variable, but
is generally a modification of the patriarchal system. The heads of
families or tribes possess hereditary rank, and take the lead in all
important events of peace or war. Their power is, however, not very
great, and they are not able to raise taxes, nor enforce compulsory
labor without payment. These chiefs, or caciques, as they are termed,
can, if they choose, refuse the rank, and many do so, preferring to
become subjects of some other cacique to the trouble and responsibility
which accompany the post.
According to Falkner, “the cacique has the power of protecting as
many as apply to him; of composing or silencing any difference; or
delivering over the offending party to be punished with death, without
being accountable for it. In these respects his will is the law. He is
generally too apt to take bribes, delivering up his vassals, and even
his relations, when well paid for it.
“According to his orders the Indians encamp, march, or travel from one
place to another to hunt or to make war. He frequently summons them to
his tent, and harangues them upon their behavior, the exigencies of the
time, the injuries they have received, the measures to be taken, &c. In
these harangues he always extols his own prowess and personal merit.
When eloquent he is greatly esteemed; and when a cacique is not endowed
with that accomplishment, he generally has an orator who supplies his
place.”
The religion of the Patagonian is a polytheism, the natives believing
that there are great numbers of deities, some good and some evil. Each
family is under the guardianship of one of the good deities, and all
the members of that family join him when they die. Beside these gods
there are subordinate demons, good to their own friends, but bad toward
all others, so that on the whole the bad predominates in them. They are
called by the name of Valichu.
Yet among some of the Patagonian tribes there is even an approach to
personal religion. It has been thought that the Patagonians are totally
destitute of such religion. This, however, is certainly not the case,
as even our limited knowledge of these people, their language, and
their habits shows that, even though they may not possess any definite
system of religion, they are still impressed with the idea of some
Being infinitely greater than themselves, who knows everything that
they do. Thus they believe in an omniscient Being; and such a belief as
this, limited and imperfect though it may be, is yet a step toward true
religion.
[Illustration: (1.) PATAGONIAN VILLAGE. (See page 1185.)]
[Illustration: (2.) PATAGONIAN BURIAL GROUND. (See page 1189.)]
To this unknown Being they return thanks when they have obtained a
supply of food after long famine, so that we find them acknowledging
that the great Being, who knows all their deeds, watches over them, and
is the Giver of all good things. When, for example, they have procured
a seal after having been half-starved for months, they assemble round
a fire, and the oldest man present cuts for each person a piece of
the seal, uttering over each portion a sort of prayer, and looking
upward in devotion to the unseen God, who had sent them meat in their
need. Undisciplined as are the Patagonians, totally unaccustomed to
self-denial, and mad with hunger, not one of them will touch the food
until this invocation has been repeated.
The mode of burial among the Patagonians varies in detail according
to the particular tribe, but there is a general resemblance in the
ceremonies throughout the country. When a man dies, his body is wrapped
in his best mantle, placed on his favorite horse, and conveyed to the
place of burial, where a square pit has already been dug, some six feet
in depth and two or three feet in width. In this pit the body of the
deceased is placed in a sitting position, his bolas, spears, and other
property laid beside him, and the pit is then covered with branches,
on which a quantity of earth is thrown. The horse is next sacrificed.
It is held at the grave by one man, while another kills it by a blow
on the head from the bolas, and the skin is then removed, stuffed,
and supported at the grave on four posts. At the grave of a cacique
four horses are sacrificed. The clothing which is not buried with
the deceased is burned, and a feast on the body of the horse closes
the proceedings. On page 1187 the reader may find an engraving of a
Patagonian burial ground.
The widows are obliged to remain in a state of the strictest privacy
for an entire year, keeping themselves within their huts, never mixing
in society, and not even showing themselves unless absolutely obliged
to do so. They must blacken themselves with soot, and not eat the flesh
of the guanaco, the mare, or the rhea. Should a woman break the rule of
seclusion, and be detected in an intrigue, she would at once lose her
life at the hands of her dead husband’s relations.
Among some of the tribes the tomb is periodically opened, and the
skeleton of the deceased, which has been prepared with the greatest
care, is washed and clothed in new robes. This office belongs to an
old matron, who is specially selected for the task, which becomes in
process of time a long and tedious one, as the warriors are placed side
by side in the grave, each year gradually adding to the number of those
who have to be washed and clothed annually.
Among some of the tribes the skeletons are prepared by laying the
bodies on platforms woven from canes and twigs, and during the time
that is occupied in cleaning and bleaching the skeleton the platform
is guarded by the friends of the dead man, draped in long mantles, and
bearing spears or staves with which they strike the ground, while they
sing mournful strains in order to drive away the Valichus or spirits,
who may possibly be well disposed toward the dead man, but are more
likely to be unfriendly.
Should the deceased have been a wealthy man, many visits of condolence
are paid to the relatives, the mourners weeping loudly, and pricking
their arms and legs with thorns in order to prove their affection by
the effusion of their blood. For these tokens of respect they are
rewarded with beads, brass ornaments, and other presents; and it need
scarcely be said that the sorrow felt for the deceased and the sympathy
excited for his friends depend very much on the amount of property at
the disposal of the relatives.