A SQUALL.
_Nov. 30._ We wrote nothing yesterday.
What we feared on the 28th came upon us on the 29th. Early yesterday
morning Lorice and his Jezebel came to see us, and wished us to strike
our tent and prepare to go with them--where, we of course did not
know. Many of the women were taking down their hovels and preparing
all their stuff for removing, while the men were bringing up their
horses for decamping. We looked at the tent of Louis, which was still
untouched. But as most of the tents around were coming down we felt it
prudent to begin arranging our luggage, lest we should be left alone.
Meanwhile the chief, Lorice, with his Jezebel were assailing Louis and
his friends with angry language. She especially seemed full of fury,
and her face and eyes looked fiendish, and we every moment looked for
blows. At length, however, there was a calm, and we hoped that the
squall was over. We struck our tent, and Louis struck his. Jezebel
came and took a small medicine-chest and some other articles, and
packed them on her horse. Other squaws took other articles, until one
half or more of our baggage was upon horses.
All at once the storm broke upon us with double fury. Jezebel dashed
our chest of medicines on the ground, breaking vials and doing much
damage; then she threw off all our luggage and scattered it hither and
thither, storming and raging like a fury. At once the clan began to
resolve itself into two hostile parties; the larger number clinging to
Lorice and his vixen, and the smaller ranging with our friend Louis.
The war of words went on and waxed hotter and hotter, till it assumed
the fury of a whirlwind. At length the vixen with her whelps flew at
the hair and eyes of our friend, and he was thrown upon the ground,
kicked, scratched, beaten, his hair pulled out, his ear-jewels rent
from his ears; he was soon smeared with sweat, dirt, and blood. Louis’s
party came to his help, but the opposite side outnumbered them two
to one, and the weaker party were roughly handled. Many were thrown
upon the ground and dragged by the hair, with faces and limbs begrimed
with dust and blood. The old chiefs, Louis’s father and mother, tall,
venerable savages of not less than seventy years, fought desperately
for their son and his family. But they, too, were overpowered by
numbers and thrown upon the ground.
It was a miserable sight, while the struggle was going on, to see the
bloody and beseeching face of Louis, as he lay prostrate on the ground,
grasping with one hand a large bag of clothing and various articles
belonging to us, and with the other trying to protect himself from his
savage foes, and beckoning to us to come and help him in protecting our
own property. But we had, alas! no power to help. We sat on the ground
in full view of the trying scene, and could only signify by looks
and gestures our disapproval, and our wish to see peace and harmony
restored.
At length the struggle abated from the sheer exhaustion of the
combatants, and the parties, with torn ears, noses, and skins, and with
dishevelled hair, sat down in two lines, facing each other in sullen
silence. We improved the armistice in endeavoring by signs and looks
to make a peace. But hot blood was up, and the flinty Patagonian wills
were not yet softened. After a short breathing-spell the two lines rose
and attacked each other again in a hand-to-hand fight as before; while
we again looked on with amazement and grief, not knowing how the strife
would end.
But the second struggle was shorter than the first, and again the
parties sat down exhausted. An Indian who had always appeared mild and
friendly then rose, and commenced to harangue both parties in eloquent
tones. He spoke for about fifteen minutes, and in such a manner as
to chain the attention of all. His speech was marked with energy,
animation, and pathos; he had varied and melodious intonations of
voice, and used seemingly appropriate gestures. Of course we regretted
exceedingly that we could not understand his language.
All was hushed during the harangue; and in a few minutes after its
close, the parties rose up, brought together their strayed horses,
gathered the scattered _débris_ of the fight, and reloaded the animals,
each party furnishing half the horses for the luggage. One party
brought a horse to Mr. Arms, and the other party one for me. This
amicable settlement by compromise revealed the cause of the fight.
Each party wanted to keep the strangers, and neither would yield its
claims until exhausted by fighting. This reminded us of what men call
civilized and Christianized warfare. Had these savages reasoned better,
they would have settled their respective claims by arbitration or by
mutual concessions and agreement without a fight. But in savage and
in civilized warfare, after blood has been shed, property destroyed,
misery inflicted, and hatred engendered, the parties come back upon the
right ground of settlement, that of negotiation and reason.
It was fortunate for these Patagonians that they were not armed with
deadly weapons. We saw no fire-arms, bows and arrows, knives, or clubs
in use on this occasion; and no lives were sacrificed.
At 3½ +P.M.+ we were again ready for our march, and after travelling
some ten miles over a northern ridge, we encamped at 6½ in a quiet
notch in the mountains. Here we erected our tent, kindled a fire, and
prepared our supper. Our friend Louis came to our help, and brought us
the head and neck of a guanaco which he had killed by the way.
Thus after a day of fatigue and solicitude we were permitted to lie
down once more in peace.
During the live-long night the Indians were very noisy, singing,
talking, and haranguing. This interrupted our sleep, yet we had no
fears, as all seemed good-natured, with no evidence of anger or
contention.
Perhaps they were like soldiers in camp, rehearsing the dangers
escaped, the skill and cunning of the tactics, the valor and prowess
displayed, the trophies won, and the glories which crowned the field
and the fight.
Early this morning a large party took up their horses and went off on
a grand hunt, and we have been permitted to spend a quiet and peaceful
day in writing and study.
_Sunday, Dec. 1._ The place of our new encampment is somewhat similar
to the one we left. We are in a cosey nook among hills, with grassy
valleys in the near vicinity, and surrounded with prairie-lands studded
with conical, truncated, and elongated sand-dunes. On the pampas the
grass is coarse and bunchy. In the alluvial valleys the soil is rich
and the grasses luxuriant. Everywhere the soil is sandy, and, what
strikes us as remarkable, we have not yet seen a rock, a boulder, or a
pebble big enough to throw at a bird.
A rill of pure water runs along our valley, and, as is usual, a little
clump of thorny bushes is near by.
These shrubs are now in leaf and blossom, and from extreme longing for
cereals or vegetable food I go to these bushes to browse, eating the
leaves, buds, and flowers. They are slightly acid, and afford a little
relief to the strong appetite for some other food than flesh.
Not succeeding yesterday, the savages have gone out to-day on another
hunt. This is the first Sabbath they have chanced to spend thus since
we have been among them.
This morning “Jezebel” came to visit us again. We had indulged the hope
that after the fight of the memorable 29th her visits would be “few and
far between,” and brief withal. But all disputes being amicably settled
between the belligerents, on she comes again. With face lighted up like
moonshine upon a thunder-cloud, she invited me to go to her husband’s
tent and receive a piece of meat. I went and brought the present; but
it was only a few minutes before she returned and began begging this
thing and that, with her characteristic audacity. It was a long time
before we could get rid of her, and when she turned her broad back we
breathed freely again.
This is the first visit we have received from any of the Lorice family
since the fight. The reason evidently is because they cannot succeed in
detaching us from our old and tried friends the Louis family.
The savages, as before stated, pitch their tents nearly in a straight
line, the old chief and his son on the right and Lorice on the left.
Our tent is again pitched close to Louis’s.
My companion has been ailing to-day, so that he has kept his bed.
Probably this is, in part at least, on account of the great change in
our diet and the fatigue and excitement of the two days past.
The wife of the old chief has come to our tent several times to-day to
look after the sick man. She appears very sympathetic, and evidently
longs to do something to help him. We are becoming not a little
attached to this fine old woman, and begin to call her mother. Her
husband is a patriarchial man in appearance. Each of them is six feet
high, and they are venerable in their three score and ten years. There
is something so noble, so kind, and so generous in this aged couple
that we are strongly drawn toward them. How ardently we long to bring
the invitations of the Gospel to them! for we almost feel assured that
while thousands of the youth and the well-informed in our land reject
the “glad tidings,” this aged couple would receive the truth with the
docility of little children.
_Dec. 2._ Mr. Arms is well again. We washed some clothes to-day,
and the Indians gathered around us in droves. All appeared full of
curiosity on seeing the process. Probably they had never seen washing
before, for although there are a few cotton and woollen garments, such
as shirts, among them, yet we have never seen them wash _anything_, not
even their hands and faces, nor have we ever seen one of them bathe, or
a mother wash her pappoose.
The old chief and his wife made us a long, friendly visit to-day. They
seem very cordial and paternal in their friendship, and we enjoyed
their visit.
During their stay our thorny “Jezebel” came and looked in at our door,
but seeing us entertaining some of the family she hates, she turned
herself and went off with an air of bitter contempt. We were glad thus
to escape another siege, and felt under much obligation to our aged
friends for protecting our castle from an attack.
At evening we closed our tent early and observed the monthly concert of
prayer. This is the first season of the kind we have spent on heathen
ground. We were but “two” in number, yet we had the promise of a third,
and this was a joy. We had often prayed for the heathen before, but
never before among the heathen. We had often prayed for missionaries
before, but never before with such a knowledge of the trials and the
wants of missionaries.
_Dec. 3._ It is midsummer with us, and while our northern homes are
ice-bound we are bathing in a hot summer sun. Our Indians are now well
supplied with food, and, in accordance with their lazy habits, some are
snoozing in their cabins and others are stretched out upon the ground,
basking like seals in the solar rays. There will be no more hunting and
no more labor until their present supply of meat shall be exhausted.
Thus far our fears of suffering from hunger have not been realized. He
that “heareth the young ravens when they cry” has liberally spread our
table, if not with the luxuries, yet with the necessaries of life.
_Dec. 4._ Rambling this morning in search of edible roots or greens,
many children followed me, and perceiving me digging the ground, as
if hunting for something, they pointed out a small bulb which, as they
signified, was edible. We dug a small mess and boiled them, finding
them quite refreshing, though we had never seen the savages eat them.
Their appearance is like that of a small garlic, and the taste somewhat
like a turnip. They were, however, very scarce, and we never found them
in any other place.
A little before noon we perceived a movement in the camp, and in a few
minutes every tent except that of the old chief and family was struck
and the houses packed for decamping. This sudden and to us mysterious
movement was ordered by the chief Lorice; but for what reason we could
not determine. Previously, when the Indians were about to remove, they
have given us timely notice and invited us to go with them. On this
occasion nothing was said to us until most of the clan had moved off.
As our host Louis remained quiet all this time, we went to inquire what
this meant. He signified that the party in motion were going out to
meet the old queen Maria, and that he and his small family would remain
and look after us until their return. Meanwhile Lorice lingered about
the camp-ground until all of his party had left. He then made us a
call of some twenty minutes, and departed to follow his party. Louis
rode out with them some distance, but returned before night bringing a
fresh guanaco which he had killed on the way, and of which he gave us
nearly half.
We are now left with a single family, formerly consisting of the old
chief and wife and five children: two sons and three daughters. The two
older sisters and a woman whom we supposed to be Louis’s wife went off
with the clan, leaving only the old couple and Louis with a brother and
sister younger than he, five in all, with us. Where we shall go next,
or what the morrow will reveal, is all uncertain. All is quiet, and
in the deserted camp there is a feeling of solitude which is a little
oppressive.
_Dec. 5._ The peace and stillness around make it seem like a Sabbath.
No romping and squalling children, no rude and noisy men, and few dogs
are to be heard.
Seeing a dozen guanacos on a distant hill, our chief offered me his
gun and wished me to go in pursuit of them. Accordingly I went, and
after walking about two miles I came in full view of more than thirty
feeding in a herd. At a distance they resembled a drove of colts; on
being approached they neighed like colts. “I came, I saw;” the animals,
too, saw--and snorted and disappeared. I returned with gun and charge,
heated and wearied, but with no game. It is next to impossible to get
near enough to a guanaco to bring him down with a rifle.
_Dec. 6._ Having intimated to our host that we needed more covering at
night, he immediately presented us with several young guanaco-skins,
and his mother and sister set about making them into a bed-spread for
us.
We have only to make known our wants to this family and they are at
once supplied to the extent of their ability. Our Indian mother still
treats us with true kindness, and endeavors to prevent all unnecessary
annoyances. If the dogs become troublesome while we are dressing our
meat, or cooking, she comes with her rod to chastise them and to teach
them manners. The two children appear affectionate and obedient. They
never trouble us like many of the other children when they visit us,
and they show no inclination to pilfer little articles. In point of
intellect, sprightliness, and pleasantry they would not suffer by
comparison with many children of civilized countries.
_Dec. 7._ Louis went out on a hunt and brought in a large supply of
fresh meat, which he shared liberally with us. When we are overstocked
with venison, we jerk a part and keep it against a time of scarcity.
Our chief tells us that he belongs to a large tribe who have spent the
winter far north, where the climate is mild, and that they are now
coming south by easy marches and will soon be here. So he remains to
receive them. He also says that Lorice and his clan are aliens from
Tierra del Fuego, and that the northern Patagonians do not associate
with them; also that they go by themselves most of the time. He says
that the reason why he associated with them is because he took a woman
of that clan, and that she had now left him and gone off with her
friends.
We are picking up Patagonian words daily, and our chief is very eager
to get hold of English words.
These quiet days afford us an excellent time for reading, writing,
study, and conversation with our neighbors, who appear more and more
attached to us.
We are very anxious to see more of the country, to meet other tribes,
and, if possible, to obtain horses and guides to take us over the
western mountains to the Pacific coast, somewhere in the region of
Chiloe or among the Araucanians south of Chili. As it now is, however,
we are shut up to faith and hope, and we must wait the will of our
Master, and move only when the cloud-pillar lifts and goes forward. We
are in an unknown wilderness, surely, where all is wild and strange,
utterly helpless in ourselves even to secure our daily food. We can
pray as never before: “Guide us, O thou great Jehovah,” adding with
special earnestness, “give us day by day our daily bread!”
The day has been cold, with frequent falls of rain and hail. Mr. Arms
is still feeble.
_Dec. 8._ Our host has been out and brought in a guanaco. A heavy frost
covered the ground this morning, and the day has been cold and squally.
Angry clouds have been passing over, and frequently discharging their
chilling contents of rain and hail. We wrap ourselves up in skins and
keep quiet in our quivering tent.
_Dec. 9._ This morning our young chief went out again with bolas,
knife, and dogs on a hunt for guanacos. His aged father, who has been
mostly kept to the camp for a long time by inflamed eyes and the
infirmities of old age, also saddled his steed and followed his son
to the chase. The day proved uncomfortable for the expedition, the
wind being quite piercing and the rain falling almost continuously.
Notwithstanding this the Indians returned with eleven guanacos, most
of which were young ones, as these sooner tire under the chase and are
easily caught by the dogs. Of these calves they gave us three as our
portion.
Thus the Lord spreads our table by the hands of these savages, whose
hearts he has moved to receive and support us with a kindness and
hospitality truly affecting.
_Dec. 10._ Prepared a little spot of ground and planted some
garden-seeds to-day, though we shall probably soon remove to some other
place, and may never see this spot again. We have also planted the
seeds of various kinds of fruit-trees, which we hope may yet spring up
and bear fruit, though we do not see it. The restless, roaming habits
of these natives render it impossible to attend to agriculture among
them. Captain Louis went out and returned with a horse-load of long
poles and stakes to hang fresh meat upon. The wood resembles wild
cherry. He must have brought them from a great distance, as he was
gone nearly all day. Two of his largest stakes he gave to us for our
use.
_Dec. 13._ On the 11th and 12th nothing occurred worthy of record.
To-day our friend signified that we must soon break up camp and go
eastward. Asking him why, he only replied that this place is “malo.”
We could not understand this complaint, as our wants have never been
so well provided for as since we came to this station. The reason of
this evidently is that we are few in numbers and very quiet; therefore
the game is not frightened away by the noise of dogs, the yells of
savages, and the rush of the chase. And again it is the season of
calving, when it is easy for one or two Indians, with twenty to thirty
dogs, to run down the young and weak animals. But to make swoop upon
a herd of keen-eyed and watchful full-grown guanacos is quite another
thing, and to secure large numbers of them often requires combination
and strategy such as the Patagonian hunter only understands. Sometimes
they go out fifty or a hundred strong, on a grand hunt, with from one
to three hundred dogs, the dogs and horses being thoroughly trained to
the service. In such cases one or two scouts are sent quietly out to
examine the meadows and valleys where the animals feed. When a herd
is descried the utmost caution is observed, so as not to discover an
Indian to the herd. The hunters then deploy to the right and left,
keeping under cover of hills, or in ravines, if possible, until they
have formed a circle around the herd, the dogs keeping close to their
masters. They then quietly contract the circle until the guanacos take
the alarm, when the whole herd, following one leader, rushes for some
point in the circle to break it and escape. At this moment dogs and
horses all start for that point, and those which reach it before the
guanacos seize the game. A score or two of bolases are whirled in the
air and sent whizzing among the animals, winding around their necks
and entangling their legs, while the dogs fall upon the prey, and the
Indians, leaping from their horses and cutting the throats of the game
with their sheath-knives, drink the hot blood with their dogs.
They then sever the trunk of the animal midway between the fore and
hind legs, and lashing one half on one side and the other on the
opposite side of the saddle, they mount again and fly over the plains
shouting like triumphant conquerors returning from a gory field.
_Dec. 14._ We have been one month in Patagonia to-day. This morning
Louis came and said to us, “Much Indus in Gregory’s Bay,” and then
signified that to-morrow there would be a _pigo grande_ (a great
smoke), and that we all should move down to the Strait. He intimated
that Lorice and his party had gone thither by a circuitous route which
he described on the ground; and that Queen Maria had come with her
train. He also gave us to understand that to-morrow she would send for
us to go down to her camp.
Anxious to know whether we understood our chief, it was proposed that
one of us go down with him to the Strait and see what was the state of
the case. To this he assented, and in a few minutes two horses were
ready and I set off at rapid speed with the young man, while Mr. Arms
remained “by the stuff.”
Our track to the sea was a new one to me; it led over lofty hills,
across broad plains, and through deep winding ravines.
On our way we saw hundreds of guanacos feeding in the meadows, several
droves of which we pursued for a considerable distance; but though
our horses skimmed the ground like arrows, yet horses and dogs were
distanced by the elastic bounds of these swift creatures, which were
soon out of sight.
These horses are so thoroughly trained for the chase that as soon as
the scent of the game is snuffed, or the neighing heard, they are
restless as the war-horse at the booming of cannon or the smell of
gunpowder, and the instant the signal is given they dart for the prey,
bounding over meadows and plains, over morasses, bogs, and ravines,
rising and descending very steep hills with little abatement of speed,
and suffering nothing to obstruct their progress till they are checked
by their riders or fall breathless with fatigue. In going directly over
a steep hill of about 700 feet elevation, and on an angle of 35° to
40°, our horses climbed with amazing energy, and on descending on the
opposite side they threw themselves on their haunches, leaping rapidly
with their fore-feet, and suffering their hinder parts to slide after
them. This was a new way of “coasting,” but it worked well with the
rider as he sat firmly in his saddle. While I enjoyed the motion, I
admired the skill of the animals.
Divest European cavalry of fire-arms, and allow them only the sabre and
lance, and they would stand a poor chance before the Patagonian cohorts
armed with the bolas and knife.
We caught no guanacos, and having taken no _viaticum_ we began to feel
hungry. Fortunately, however, the keen hunter’s eye of Louis descried
a little _cochin_, or skunk, in a bunch of grass. Dismounting quietly,
he thrust his hand into the grass and hauled out pussy so adroitly as
to kill it without the least accident to himself. He then hung it upon
his saddle, mounted his steed, and on we rushed. Coming in full view of
Gregory’s Bay, and gaining an extended sight of the Strait and shores,
we saw no smoke, no wigwams, and no Indians.
It was now late in the afternoon; we had ridden some thirty miles;
the wind had become strong and cold. We turned our horses’ heads
northward and rode against a wind which soon became so violent that it
was difficult to keep in our saddles, and our horses put down their
heads, snorted, and almost refused to move. Louis dismounted, ordered
me to dismount, and said that we must spend the night where we were.
We unsaddled our horses, and Louis, tying their fore-feet together
so that they could make progress only by leaping, let them go for the
night. His next movement was to cook his game for supper. At a short
distance he found a small clump of bushes, where he kindled a fire, in
the flame of which he singed off the hair of the skunk. Then, having
heated some small stones which he carried with him, he put them into
the bowels of the _cochin_, and laying it among the embers and smoke of
his improvized oven, it was soon roasted to his satisfaction. Tearing
off one quarter he gave it to me, and appropriating the other three
quarters, with the appurtenances, he devoured it all in less time than
has been occupied in this description. Nothing was left of his portion,
for even the bones were cracked and the marrow sucked out.
Night coming on, we now prepared to sleep. Placing our saddles at our
heads and near the bushes, as a small barrier against the wind, and
taking our saddle-cloths for blankets, we lay down while the blasts
raved and roared around us. In the night we were aroused by one of the
horses, who in his struggle to free himself of his unwelcome fetters
came leaping and stumbling within a few feet of us, greatly endangering
our safety. Louis arose, unshackled both the horses, and tied them to
tufts of grass; and we were undisturbed till morning.
_Sunday, Dec. 15._ We arose early to return to our camp, but our horses
were not to be found. They had broken from their tetherings and made
their escape. We were a little perplexed, but the morning was calm and
bright. Directing me to remain and keep still in my place, Louis set
off in search of the stray beasts. Thus I was left alone in this vast
wilderness without power to find my way back to the camp, as I had left
my pocket-compass behind and had taken no bearings, trusting alone to
my guide and expecting to return with him on Saturday to the lodge. But
if I had not taken my compass, I had not forgotten my little pocket
Testament, my constant companion in sleeping and waking. Nor could I
forget the assuring promise in Heb. xiii. 5: “For he hath said, I will
never leave thee nor forsake thee.” So I sat on the ground and mused; I
arose and walked to and fro; I looked north, south, east, and west, but
no sound was heard and no moving thing was seen. “Both the beast and
the bird were fled, they were gone.” I took out my watch and looked;
one half-hour gone and no Louis. Again I looked; one hour gone and
he had not returned. The third half-hour went, and I stood alone in a
vast and unknown solitude--in a realm of utter silence, and silence
that, like the darkness of Egypt, “could be felt.” Never before had I
so impressively realized the value of a man, savage though that man be.
How truthfully came the words of Isaiah to mind, “I will make a man
more precious than fine gold”!
Looking and waiting, I wandered to a small bunch of bushes, and here
I found a hawk’s nest, with one young half-fledged hawk. Hunger was
on me, and now, thought I, we shall have a breakfast when our chief
returns with the horses. I worked my way into the brambles and caught
the bird. He fought bravely for “life and liberty” and with beak and
talons drew blood, but hunger conquered and I secured him. Shortly
after this capture, back came my hero with both of the truants. At
this my heart leaped for joy, the waiting had seemed so long and
painful; but when he saw the bird in my keeping his face grew dark as
a thunder-cloud, and he seemed to be in rage and consternation. He
began to gesticulate earnestly and to cry out, “Malo! malo!” shaking
his head significantly, till I was alarmed, and ran back to the bush
with my prey and restored the bird to its nest. Thus all my fond hopes
of a breakfast were dashed. I suppose that this hawk is sacred to the
Patagonians, and that their superstitious fears forbid to do it harm.
Our horses were saddled and mounted in haste, and after a John Gilpin
ride of five hours we reached our camp about noon, weary and hungry, as
I had gone thirty-six hours with no other food than a small piece of
_cochin_.
My “companion in arms” had been anxious for us, and he had thoughtfully
boiled a piece of guanaco for me. In a little tent as we are, and in a
wild and savage land, the sight of our tabernacle was truly cheering,
because it has the name, and has by use something of the air, of
home. We trust we are truly thankful for our shelter, and that our
circumstances are so much better than they might be. On our way back
this morning young Louis pointed out a place to which he said we would
soon remove.
_Dec. 16._ Found the Indians preparing for a removal this morning; but
as it was rainy and cold we advised them to wait until to-morrow, to
which they cheerfully assented. So we spent the day in preparing our
baggage for decamping.
_Dec. 17._ Agreeably to the arrangements of yesterday we struck our
tent early this morning, put our effects on horses provided for us,
and set out with our Indian family for the new place of encampment.
Our course was eastward, and our removal occupied most of the day. The
new location is near a small stream of water, but it is in an open
plain of wide extent, surrounded in the distance by hills which bound
our horizon. Here we have nothing but a few bushes, near which we have
pitched our tent, to break the force of the winds as they come sweeping
over the pampas.
Before we had time to erect our tent a cold rain came on that wet both
our luggage and ourselves and rendered us very uncomfortable. The
chief’s family, with their usual kindness, rendered us every assistance
in their power, though this help came mostly from the women.
_Dec. 18._ A cold and blustering day. The wind rushes, screeches, and
howls. Our tent quivers and shakes and threatens to fall. It already
begins to give way before the blasts, and we have been obliged to take
it down to mend the threatening rents. It is quite too frail to last
long in this climate, and unless we can keep screened from the winds
among the hills or in quiet valleys, our tabernacle will soon take
wings and leave us. It could not possibly stand during a winter. Should
it fail us we must take lodgings in the skin hovels of the Indians.
This will be uncomfortable indeed, as their tents are made loathsome
by grease, old skins, filth, vermin, the smoke of their cooking, and
the almost unendurable smoke of their pipes. Add to this their numerous
lousy, gaunt, and quarrelling dogs, twenty or thirty of them to each
hut, and one can imagine the situation without a desire to test it by
sight, or sound, or smell, or touch.
It is difficult to conceive of a lower state of existence than we find
in Patagonia.
_Dec. 19._ This morning Mr. Arms went out with Louis and his young
brother to seek a fresh supply of meat, while our kind Indian mother
with her little daughter returned to the place of our last sojourn to
bring some stakes and poles which we had left behind because our horses
were overloaded on the 17th, but which we needed.
Thus I am left with no one in the lodge but the old chief, who is still
much indisposed and almost blind with inflamed eyes. The quiet is
impressive, and the relief for a few hours from the discordant sounds
of an Indian camp is very grateful.
While thus congratulating myself on the uninterrupted solitude in
prospect, all at once two Indians on foot arrived with tidings that our
old acquaintance Captain Lorice with his unctuous wife Jezebel and the
large party that separated from us two weeks ago were on their way back
and would soon be here. Soon after several other Indians came up, and
presently the whole troop of horses appeared. The riders dismounted,
and the squaws at once set about pitching their tents in a line, with
ours on the right, while the men and children gathered around me, the
women joining them as soon as the tents were erected. All appeared
good-natured and joyful at meeting, as if old feuds and jealousies were
forgotten. From this time till night our tent was thronged with these
children of nature, filling every nook within and crowding around the
door in almost stifling numbers, all apparently curious to know if any
change had come over the “Americana” strangers during their absence.
One of the Indians brought me a fine saddle of young guanaco, another
filled my hands with jerked meat pulverized, and Captain Lorice
presented me with a whole calf and made a long and friendly visit. As
soon as his wife had erected and arranged her tent she also came with
seeming great good-nature, smiling as if she had been transformed into
“an angel of light,” and bringing with her the old brood of children.
It was not long, however, before this April sunbeam was obscured by
peevish and fitful clouds. “The ruling passion,” cupidity, still
strong, began to show itself. With her usual disgusting impudence she
set to handling our effects, asking me to open bags and cases and show
her all our goods, at the same time reminding me of the present her
husband had just given me, in order to impress me with a due sense of
obligation. But she found me imperturbable and unpersuasible, and after
vainly trying every art in her power, in tones and looks and earnest
gesticulations, pointing to her rags, hauling up her children to show
their nudity, and even opening their mouths to signify their desire to
eat our food, she became sullen and silent.
At evening our little party returned with thirty young calves, having
had unparalleled success. Of these twelve were given to us. This
appears to be the season of plenty with the Indians.
_Dec. 20._ Visited to-day by large numbers of the natives. They appear
so fond of our society and so curious to see us at our work that they
almost crowd us out of our tent. While dressing our game they flocked
around and begged the liver, lungs, kidneys, heart, etc. These they
devoured raw with the greediness of carnivorous animals. This is not
occasioned by hunger, as they are now well fed; but it is a habit of
theirs, and they esteem these parts (especially when they come warm
from the animal) as a great luxury. I have seen the children eating the
most offensive parts of the intestines uncooked and unwashed; and the
blood is a sweet beverage to all.
The Indians find wild dandelions in this region, and they gather and
eat them in large quantities, roots, stems, and all, without washing
or boiling. Thus it seems we are not alone in our keen desire for
vegetables and herbs.
Toward evening Captain Lorice made us a long visit, and again urgently
requested us to leave the family by whose kind care we have been so
long fed and go with him and his tribe to the north. He offers to
give us each a fine horse, to feed us well, and to protect and guide
us wherever he travels. He continues to show his envy of Louis, and
calls him and his family by ill names, while he boasts of his own
greatness and goodness. If one would believe it, he is a model of all
righteousness, truth, and generosity. His invitation was pressed with
much earnestness by some of his favorites, who labored to impress us
with a sense of his excellences, assuring us we should lack nothing if
we would put ourselves under his care.
But we are still deaf to the entreaties and incredulous to the fair
promises of this chief and his clan, and we feel more and more
confirmed in the belief that it would be indiscreet, not to say wrong,
to abandon our tried friends and put ourselves into the hands of
savages whose sole object too evidently is to obtain the few articles
in our possession. We therefore gave Lorice to understand that we
would remain where we were until the arrival of Queen Maria, she being
daily expected from the north. He was disappointed and downcast at our
answer, but at length left us with apparent good feeling.
_Dec. 21._ Lorice did not remove to-day according to his statement
yesterday, but instead went out with a party on a hunt.
During the day we saw a great smoke at a distance northward, and our
young chief says it is Queen Maria with her tribe, that she is coming
down to the Strait, and that he will go to meet her to-morrow. Of
course we rejoice in the tidings, and hope all will prove true, as this
is what we have long waited for.
A young Indian brought us a pocket-knife to sharpen. We immediately
recognized the knife as one which had been stolen from us, each of us
having lost a knife of this description. We signified to the one who
brought it that the knife was ours; but as we could not prove that he
was the thief, nor find out the culprit, we permitted him to keep it.
Near sunset we witnessed a scene altogether novel to us. Nearly all
the women in the camp assembled on a lawn and engaged in a game at
ball-playing. They were noisy, lively, and energetic. At the close of
the game an altercation took place between our Jezebel and another
woman. A squabble ensued, when all the other women and many of the
children arranged themselves in a large circle around the combatants.
The scene ended without blood, but not without a torrent of angry and
bitter words which continued until late in the evening. What was the
cause of the contention we could not learn; whether it was a dispute
about the game or a revival of the old party feud was not certain; but
one thing was clear, that Jezebel was the exciting cause.
We retired late to rest, but the noise in the camp and the incessant
barking of a hundred dogs prevented sleep till near morning.
_Sunday, Dec. 22._ Louis started early this morning to meet the tribe
of Indians whose smoke we saw yesterday.
During his absence Captain Lorice and several of his party paid us
frequent visits and urged us with renewed importunity to strike our
tent and go with them to-day, as they were about to leave. He seemed
unusually earnest and anxious, and we apprehend that his haste to leave
to-day is occasioned by the near approach of a large party friendly
to Louis. We again and again rejected his proposals, urging the same
reasons we had given on former occasions. His clan packed their horses,
mounted, and moved off, while he and a few others lingered behind as
if unwilling to leave us. Several times he seemed on the point of
departing, when he would again return and sit in our tent, urging us to
go by all the motives he could present, by flattery, and by the offer
of rewards. These not moving us, he would sit silent for a long time
wrapt in a thoughtful mood.
We made him presents of several articles, as we had done before, with
which he seemed pleased.
Near sunset we saw our friend Louis returning accompanied by three lads
of, as we judge, the ages of ten, twelve, and fourteen years.
On his arrival Lorice mounted his horse and disappeared. Louis reported
that he had met a large body of good Indians, and that they would all
be here to-morrow, but that the queen was not with them. He appeared
much pleased that the Lorice party had gone.
On his way home he had slain a large puma. He had no weapons but his
bolas and knife, but with the help of a fierce pack of dogs and his own
skill and prowess he succeeded in slaying this powerful animal. He gave
us liberally of the booty, and we found the flesh not very tough and
quite palatable.