ARRIVAL OF THE “QUEEN.”
_Jan. 4._ Early this morning a large party of our tribe set off to meet
the coming troop from the north.
About 11 +A.M.+ a division of the approaching strangers appeared on a
hill in sight of our encampment, and made a signal. Immediately there
was a great rushing and shouting on our right, and on inquiring the
cause, we were told that the Americans were coming. A few minutes of
waiting, and we were saluted in the English tongue by strangers who
proved to be two young sailors, named Henry Boruck and Harry Hassel.
The former says he is from the city of New York, and landed here from
the sealing vessel Tally, Captain Allen, of New London, Conn., May
20th, 1833. The latter says he hails from Washington, D. C., and left
the schooner Elizabeth Jane, Captain Albertson, May 12th, 1833. Wild,
thoughtless youths, they became dissatisfied with their situations on
board their vessels, and resolved to run away and abandon themselves to
the pleasures of savage life. But the poor fellows have “paid dear for
their whistle,” and they have learned their folly at a high price. They
now rue the day when they left the society and comforts of civilized
life and planted their feet on these savage shores. They say they
have suffered bitterly, and have sometimes desired death rather than
life. Their clothes have been taken from them, and Henry wears an old,
greasy, and cast-off skin mantle; while poor Harry, less fortunate, has
not been able to obtain even that apology for a garment, and vainly
endeavors to cover his nakedness with the shadow of an old tattered
monkey-jacket and the remnant of a pair of duck trousers in which he
left his vessel. These are his only garments by day and night, and he
has suffered greatly with the cold during the long winter. These men
have been with the savages about eight months, and have been constantly
roaming since the winter broke up, stopping only a few days in a place.
They have been, as they say, a great distance to the north, sometimes
camping on the sea-shore, sometimes advancing far into the interior.
They have been with the division of Santa Maria, who is now on her way
back to Gregory’s Bay.
Yesterday an Indian of our tribe went out to meet them, and these young
men, learning from him that two of their countrymen were here, left
their company by stealth in the evening, and, travelling most of the
night, arrived at our camp before noon to-day.
While all the Indians are mounted, these sailors are made to travel
on foot with the dogs, and are often reproached with the name servant
and slave. They are barefooted, and, being obliged to keep up with the
horses on their journeyings over rough and smooth places, their feet
are swollen, cracked, and sore. They are covered with dirt, and their
beards have not been shaven or their hair cut since they came into
the country. They are made to do the drudgery of the savages, such
as catching their horses, leading them to water, gathering fagots,
kindling their fires, roasting their meat, bringing their water, etc.
Instead of becoming chiefs and gratifying their baser passions at will,
as they expected, they are deprived of every privilege, despised by the
savages, and degraded to the most abject condition.
But although they now see their folly, they do not reform their lives,
but are constantly exerting a baleful influence upon the Indians,
teaching them the use of the vilest words, and thus demoralizing, if
possible, these degraded natives. They are awfully profane, and they
have taught the Indians to take that sacred name of which they have no
knowledge in vain, and to trifle with the God of whose attributes they
have never heard. Almost every sentence which comes from their lips is
uttered with an oath, and we are constantly rebuking them for a habit
which to them is like breathing.
With all the roughness and profanity of these poor sailors, their
misery makes them glad to see us, and they beg to remain under our care
and protection, hoping that we may help them on board of some vessel
and thus end their dreadful exile.
They excite our painful sympathy. We pity them, but we dread their
influence on these savages; for it is in deadly opposition to that
which we are endeavoring to exert.
In the afternoon another American youth of only sixteen years, named
Nicholas Druery, came to our camp on horseback in company with an
Indian with whom he lives. He hails from Westerloo, N. Y. This young
man belonged to the schooner Transport, Captain Bray, of Bristol, R. I.
The schooner was wrecked on Tierra del Fuego in March, 1833. The crew
were all saved and taken off by the Unicorn, Captain Low. Nicholas,
preferring a savage life, left the Unicorn at Gregory’s Bay, and has
been with the Indians ever since.
He tells us that there is a man named Daniel Smith, of New York, and
also an Englishman and a Portuguese, who left their clan some time ago
to search for a vessel in which they might leave the country. What had
become of them, whether they had escaped or perished with hunger, or
at the hands of the savages, he knew not. At evening Nicholas returned
with his Indian master to the Queen’s camp, which he judged was about
twelve miles from here, while Henry and Harry remain with us.
_Sabbath, Jan. 5._ The Indians have been interchanging visits with the
Queen’s party during the day. We have not yet seen her Majesty, but one
of us will probably go to her camp to-morrow. We are told that there
are about five hundred Indians in her train. We learn also that many
of these savages play at cards, which recreation they call _berrica_,
and also at dice, which they call _terraci_. Ball-playing they call
_sonkey_, and in this they have indulged largely to-day. Surely we have
been preceded by missionaries in Patagonia, though not by ambassadors
of the Lord Jesus. These poor, blind natives have not been told the
story of redemption nor taught “the name which is above every name,”
except to profane it. They know nothing of the Sabbath of rest and
peace--nothing of its elevating and soul-inspiring joys.
They have learned to swear and gamble, to smoke and drink, but they
have unlearned none of their original sins.
About sunset our attention was turned to the tent of Santa Rio,
the Spaniard, by groanings, rattlings, and strange noises. We went
immediately to him, and found him complaining of sickness and great
pain. An Indian doctor was sitting upon him, moaning, wailing, sucking
his thumbs, striking his breast, blowing through his fists, sucking the
eyebrows and face of his patient, blowing upon him, and rattling over
his head two bags of dry skins, in the form of junk-bottles, in which
were a large quantity of pebbles.
This ceremony was continued a long time, until one would suppose that
a well man would have fallen sick, and a sick man would have died.
By what we saw on this occasion we are led to think that these savages,
like many of the more civilized races, believe in possession by evil
spirits, and that these wild and superstitious measures are practised
to exorcise them.
_Jan. 6._ The long-looked-for Patagonian Queen has at last arrived.
She comes to us not in regal pomp and royal splendor, attended with a
brilliant retinue of “peers of the realm,” but as a savage squaw with a
few straggling attendants, and escorted hither by Mr. Arms, who went up
to her camp this morning.
Santa Maria is an aged woman, tall, large, and well formed, with a
mild and somewhat intelligent face. She is partially civilized; has
visited the Falkland Islands, and converses tolerably well in Spanish.
She appears amiable in her disposition, and we are pleased with her.
She is now living, as we are told, with her fourth husband, whose name
is Kahatech. She has four sons, viz., Parpon, Toorloon, Checo, and
Bistante. The oldest is a captain in the clan.
On entering our tent the Queen offered me her hand with civility and
kindness, and then introduced her husband, for whom she manifests much
affection.
We prepared a dinner of boiled meat, and our royal guests partook
with us in the best style we could offer. They seemed to relish the
savory meat, and, as we furnished but one course, the dinner was soon
despatched. Our conversation then turned on various subjects, and she
inquired of us how long we would remain in her country, what goods we
had brought, when there would be more vessels at the bay, etc., etc.
She also invited us, with great apparent cordiality, to go and live
with her. This invitation we thought best to decline for the present,
as we do not expect to find friends who will treat us with more
kindness than the family of Louis.
On telling the Queen that I would visit her at her lodge in a few
days, she insisted on my returning with her to-day and spending some
time with her; and her importunity became so great that, after several
excuses on my part, I assented to go with her at once, and made my
preparations to leave.
We then presented her with a nice scarlet broadcloth cloak which we
had made on board the Mary Jane on our voyage out. We also gave her
a hatchet, several knives, thimbles, needles, etc., with which she
seemed much gratified. She had detailed a fine horse for me, and we all
mounted, and the cavalcade set out at near sundown for the royal camp.
We found the distance not great, and as the summer twilight in this
high latitude is prolonged, we arrived at the camp before it was ended.
The Indians crowded around in great numbers to welcome their chief and
to get a peep at the stranger.
I was invited immediately into the Queen’s tent, which is larger than
any of the others, but made and furnished in the same general style. It
is occupied by several families in her train.
Santa Maria dresses in a mantle of skins, wears a few beads around
her wrists, and when she rides out wears a pair of boots made of the
skin of a horse’s leg; but in none of her personal attire is she
distinguished from a private individual. I supped with her and her
husband on roast guanaco, and this ended, she prepared my bed of skins,
and covered me with the care of a mother.
_Jan. 7._ On arising this morning the good old Queen brought me a
piggin of water and a piece of soap to wash my hands and face. This
was a novelty. It is the first time I have seen a Patagonian think of
water to wash face or hands, or food or clothing.
After this ablution a good breakfast of boiled meat was provided, with
salt to flavor it. After breakfast the old lady inquired how long I
would stay, and when I told her that I must return to-day, she urged me
to remain another night. She did all in her power to render my visit
agreeable, and I have seldom been treated with more simple and genuine
hospitality even in a civilized land. Finding that I could not be
persuaded to remain over another night, she girded a horse for herself
and another for me, and at 3 +P.M.+ we set out, and she escorted me
back to our encampment, rested there a while, and then returned to her
own quarters.
As I was about to leave her tent she presented me with a new guanaco
mantle made in the best manner, and finely painted. She also gave me
seven hen’s eggs from a hen which she kept in her wigwam with great
care. At the time Mr. Arms visited her, she gave him a mantle made
of lion-skin, the only one of the kind in her possession. Among the
Queen’s household I saw a man whom the Indians call _padre_, and who
acts as a kind of priest, though I cannot learn that he has any
official duties to discharge except in burying the dead. The padre
wears his hair and his mantle like the women, lives in celibacy,
performs no hard labor, and is supported by others. All this, of
course, comes from some former contact with the Catholics; it may be
from intercourse with the Spaniards along the Rio Negro on the north,
with an old and abandoned settlement at Port Desire, on the Atlantic
coast, or another at Port Famine, within the Strait of Magellan. And
it is not improbable that Santa Maria has been baptized by a Catholic
priest, as her name would indicate.
As yet we have witnessed no death and no funeral rites among the
savages, but we are told by some of Santa Maria’s party that when a man
dies he is buried in a small hole in the ground, the padre treading
down the earth over him, and that then his horses and dogs are all
killed, and his tent frame and covering, his mantles, lasso, bolas,
skins, and all that pertains to him, are burned, no vestige of the man,
or of any thing that he possessed in life, remaining.
On inquiry as to the marriage ceremony, we were told that the lover
purchases a wife with a horse or horses of her father, and that the
nuptials are celebrated by killing and eating a horse. Polygamy is
common among the Patagonians, and husbands and wives have little regard
for fidelity, and part at will.