THE CAPTIVE IN PATAGONIA.
For further information in regard to the savages of Eastern Patagonia
and along the Strait of Magellan, I refer the reader to “The Captive
in Patagonia; or, A Personal Narrative of the Capture, Sufferings, and
Escape of Benjamin Franklin Bourne, Mate of the Schooner John Allyne,
of New Bedford,” published by Gould & Lincoln, Boston, 1853.
This schooner, A. Brownwell, master, sailed from New Bedford on the
13th February, 1849, bound to California in search of gold. In passing
through the Strait of Magellan the vessel anchored on the 1st of May
within the eastern part of the Strait, and very near the place where
the Mary Jane left Mr. Arms and myself, and evidently among the same
tribe of savages with whom we sojourned in 1833-4.
Mr. Bourne was sent on shore to trade with the natives, but through the
disobedience of his boat’s crew he fell into the hands of the savages,
who supposed him to be the master of the schooner, and who retained him
doubtless with the hope of securing a large ransom for his delivery.
Unfortunately all efforts to secure his release failed; the John Allyne
sailed without him; he was carried to the Indians’ camp in the country,
and a feeling of horror, almost of despair, such as cannot be known but
by experience, came over him.
The Chilian Government at that time had a penal settlement at Port
Famine, sixty or seventy miles westward in the Strait. To this place
Mr. Bourne begged earnestly and repeatedly to be taken, but his plea
was rejected. In his agony for escape he sometimes became desperate,
using flattery and threatening, promising his captors rich gifts when
they should restore him to freedom, and threatening exemplary vengeance
on any one who should dare to hurt him. For all this duplicity he
apologizes, as it seemed to him necessary on account of his desperate
condition.
Mr. Bourne mentions horrid murders committed while he was in exile; he
also thinks that cannibalism was practised in Patagonia, but with great
secrecy. He records two cases where he was surrounded with what he
calls “the fatal ring,” where his life was in great peril, and where
he mercifully escaped through the intervention of his guardian chief,
who pleaded that his life might be spared until they had obtained the
promised presents.
After three months and seven days of physical sufferings and perils,
and of mental anguish that can never be told, he succeeded in
persuading the Indians to go as far north as Port Santa Cruz, where
there was a small islet which the savages called Holland. At this
island lay a vessel with a few men come thither to collect guano.
Bourne set a signal on the shore for a boat to come from the island;
but it was not until the second day that any movement was made in
response. At length, however, a boat approached the shore and was
hailed, but refused to land for fear of the savages. Mr. Hall, who
headed the boat, told Bourne to dive into the sea and swim off,
promising to care for him when once on board.
But how could he disentangle himself from the Indians, who kept close
to him with their knives, determined not to let him go until they
received the rewards promised? To the poor captive it was a case of
life or death. The savages ordered him to go back to their camp. He
signified that he would by and by. They watched him. Suddenly he darted
from them and plunged into the roaring surf. They followed with drawn
knives, but the surf stopped them, and he by a desperate struggle
reached the boat, and was taken exhausted and chilled to the island.
This was on the 7th of August, 1849, and in the dead of winter. He was
taken captive on the first of May, making his captivity ninety-nine
days. He had no further communication with the Patagonians, and
all their hopes of rewards were blasted. This narrative of Mr.
Bourne is painfully interesting, and it will well repay the reader.
His descriptions of life and manners in Patagonia are graphic and
life-like, and more correct than the stories of some who have written
on that country.