Valparaiso--Excursion to base of Andes--Structure of land--Ascend
Bell of Quillota--Shattered masses of greenstone--Immense valleys
--Mines--State of miners--Santiago--Hot baths of Cauquenes--Gold
mines--Grinding mills--Perforated stones--Habits of puma--El turco
and tapacolo--Humming-birds.
CENTRAL CHILE.
JULY 23D.--The Beagle anchored late at night in the bay of
Valparaiso, the chief seaport of Chile. When morning came, every
thing appeared delightful. After Tierra del Fuego, the climate felt
quite delicious--the atmosphere so dry, and the heavens so clear and
blue, with the sun shining brightly, that all nature seemed sparkling
with life. The view from the anchorage is very pretty. The town is
built at the very foot of a range of hills, about 1600 feet high, and
rather steep. From its position, it consists of one long, straggling
street, which runs parallel to the beach, and wherever a ravine
comes down, the houses are piled up on each side of it. The rounded
hills, being only partially protected by a very scanty vegetation,
are worn into numberless little gullies, which expose a singularly
bright red soil. From this cause, and from the low whitewashed houses
with tile roofs, the view reminded me of St. Cruz in Teneriffe.
In a north-easterly direction there are some fine glimpses of the
Andes: but these mountains appear much grander when viewed from the
neighbouring hills; the great distance at which they are situated
can then more readily be perceived. The volcano of Aconcagua is
particularly magnificent. This huge and irregularly conical mass has
an elevation greater than that of Chimborazo; for, from measurements
made by the officers in the Beagle, its height is no less than 23,000
feet. The Cordillera, however, viewed from this point, owe the
greater part of their beauty to the atmosphere through which they are
seen. When the sun was setting in the Pacific, it was admirable to
watch how clearly their rugged outlines could be distinguished, yet
how varied and how delicate were the shades of their colour.
I had the good fortune to find living here Mr. Richard Corfield, an
old schoolfellow and friend, to whose hospitality and kindness I was
greatly indebted, in having afforded me a most pleasant residence
during the Beagle’s stay in Chile. The immediate neighbourhood of
Valparaiso is not very productive to the naturalist. The surrounding
hills consist of a granitic formation, which sometimes assumes the
character of gneiss, and sometimes of granite. Their summits are
flat-topped, and their flanks rounded. I have before stated, that
forests cover that side of the Cordillera which fronts the prevailing
winds. Here, during the summer, which forms the longer portion of the
year, the winds blow steadily from the southward, and a little off
shore, so that rain never falls: during the three winter months it is
however sufficiently abundant. The vegetation in consequence is very
scanty. Except in some deep valleys, trees nowhere occur, and only a
little grass and a few low bushes are scattered over the less steep
parts of the hills. When we reflect that, at the distance of 350
miles to the southward, this side of the Andes is completely hidden
by one impenetrable forest, the contrast is very remarkable.
I took several long walks while collecting objects of natural
history. The country is pleasant for exercise. There are many very
beautiful flowers, and as in most other dry climates, the plants
and shrubs possess strong and peculiar odours; even one’s clothes
by brushing through them became scented. I did not yet cease from
wonder, at finding each succeeding day as fine as the foregoing. What
a difference does climate make in the enjoyment of life! How opposite
are the sensations when viewing black mountains half-enveloped in
clouds, and seeing another range through the light blue haze of a
fine day! The one for a time may be very sublime; the other is all
gaiety and happy life.
AUGUST 14TH.--I set out on a riding excursion, for the purpose of
geologizing the basal parts of the Andes, which alone at this time
of the year were not shut up by the winter snow. Our first day’s
ride was northward along the sea-coast. After dark we reached the
Hacienda of Quintero, the estate which formerly belonged to Lord
Cochrane. My object in coming here was to see the great beds of
shells, which are elevated some yards above the level of the sea.
They nearly all consist of one species of Erycina; and these shells
at the present day live together in great numbers, on the sandy
flats. So wonderfully numerous are those forming the beds, that for
years they have been quarried, and burnt for the lime, with which the
large town of Valparaiso is supplied. As any change of level, even in
this neighbourhood, has often been disputed, I may add, that I saw
dead barnacles adhering to points of solid rock which were now so
much elevated, that even during gales of wind they would scarcely be
wetted by the spray.
15TH.--We returned towards the valley of Quillota. The country
was exceedingly pleasant; just such as poets would call pastoral:
green open lawns, separated by small valleys with rivulets, and
the cottages, we will suppose of the shepherds, scattered on the
hill-sides. We were obliged to cross the ridge of the Chilecauquen.
At its base there were many fine evergreen forest-trees, but these
only flourished in the ravines, where there was running water. Any
person who had seen only the country near Valparaiso, would never
have imagined that there had been such picturesque spots in Chile.
As soon as we reached the brow of the Sierra, the valley of Quillota
was immediately under our feet. The prospect was one of remarkable
artificial luxuriance. The valley is very broad and quite flat, and
is thus easily irrigated in all parts. The little square gardens are
crowded with orange and olive trees, and every sort of vegetable.
On each side huge bare mountains rise, and this from the contrast
renders the patchwork valley the more pleasing. Whoever called
“Valparaiso” the “Valley of Paradise,” must have been thinking of
Quillota. We crossed over to the Hacienda de San Isidoro, situated at
the very foot of the Bell mountain.
Chile, as may be seen in the maps, is a narrow strip of land between
the Cordillera and the Pacific; and this strip is itself traversed
by several mountain-lines, which in this part run parallel to the
great range. Between these outer lines, and the main Cordillera, a
succession of level basins, generally opening into each other by
narrow passages, extend far to the southward. In these the principal
towns are situated, as San Felipe, Santiago, S. Fernando. These
basins or plains, together with the transverse flat valleys (like
that of Quillota) which connect them with the coast, I have little
doubt, are the bottoms of ancient inlets and deep bays, such as at
the present day intersect every part of Tierra del Fuego, and the
west coast of Patagonia. Chile must formerly have resembled the
latter country, in the configuration of its land and water. This
resemblance was occasionally seen with great force, when a level
fog-bank covered, as with a mantle, all the lower parts of the
country: the white vapour curling into the ravines, beautifully
represented little coves and bays; and here and there a solitary
hillock peeping up, showed that it had formerly stood there as
an islet. The contrast of these flat valleys and basins with the
irregular mountains, gave the scenery a character which to me was
novel and very interesting.
From the natural slope to seaward of these plains, they are very
easily irrigated, and in consequence singularly fertile. Without this
process the land would produce scarcely any thing; for during the
whole summer the sky is cloudless. The mountains and hills are dotted
over with bushes and low trees, and excepting these, the vegetation
is very scanty. Each landowner in the valley possesses a certain
portion of hill-country, where his half-wild cattle, in considerable
numbers, manage to find sufficient pasture. Once every year there
is a grand “rodeo,” when all the cattle are driven down, counted,
and marked, and a certain number separated to be fattened in the
irrigated fields. Wheat is extensively cultivated, and also a good
deal of Indian corn: a kind of bean is, however, the staple article
of food for the common labourers. The orchards produce an overflowing
abundance of peaches, figs, and grapes. With all these advantages,
the inhabitants of the country ought to be much more prosperous than
they are.
AUGUST 16TH.--The mayor-domo of the Hacienda was good enough to
give me a guide and fresh horses; and in the morning we set out to
ascend the Campana, or Bell mountain, which is 6400 feet high. The
paths were very bad, but both the geology and scenery amply repaid
the trouble. We reached, by the evening, a spring called the Agua
del Guanaco, which is situated at a great height. This must be an
old name, for it is very many years since a guanaco has drunk its
waters. During the ascent I noticed that nothing grew on the northern
slope but bushes, whilst on the southern there was a sort of bamboo,
about fifteen feet high. In a few places there were palms, and I was
surprised to see one at an elevation of at least 4500 feet. These
palms are, for their family, ugly trees. Their stem is very large,
and of a curious form, being thicker in the middle than at the base
or top. They are excessively numerous in some parts of Chile, and
valuable on account of a sort of treacle made from the sap. On one
estate near Petorca, they tried to count them, but failed, after
having numbered several hundred thousand. Every year in August
(early spring time) very many are cut down, and when the trunk is
lying on the ground, the crown of leaves is lopped off. The sap then
immediately begins to flow from the upper end, and continues so doing
for some months: it is, however, necessary that a thin slice should
be shaved off from that end every morning, so as to expose a fresh
surface. A good tree will give ninety gallons, and all this must
have been contained in the vessels of the apparently dry trunk. It
is said that the sap flows much more quickly on those days when the
sun is powerful; and likewise, that it is absolutely necessary to
take care, in cutting down the tree, that it should fall with its
head upwards on the side of the hill; for if it falls down the slope,
scarcely any sap will flow; although in that case, one would have
thought that the action would have been aided, instead of checked, by
the force of gravity. The sap is concentrated by boiling, and is then
called treacle, which it very much resembles in taste.
We unsaddled our horses near the spring, and prepared to pass the
night. The evening was fine, and the atmosphere so clear, that the
masts of the vessels at anchor in the bay of Valparaiso, although
no less than twenty-six geographical miles distant, could be
distinguished clearly, as little black streaks. A ship doubling the
point under sail appeared as a bright white speck. Anson expresses
much surprise, in his voyage, at the distance his vessels were
discovered from the coast; but he did not sufficiently allow for the
height of the land, and the great transparency of the air.
The setting of the sun was glorious; the valleys being black, whilst
the snowy peaks of the Andes yet retained a ruby tint. When it was
dark, we made a fire beneath a little arbour of bamboos, fried our
charqui (or dried strips of beef), took our maté, and were quite
comfortable. There is an inexpressible charm in thus living in the
open air. The evening was calm and still;--the shrill noise of the
mountain bizcacha, and the faint cry of the goatsucker, were only
occasionally to be heard. Besides these, few birds, or even insects,
frequent these dry, parched mountains.
AUGUST 17TH.--In the morning we climbed up the rough mass of
greenstone which crowns the summit. This rock, as frequently
happens, was much shattered and broken into huge angular fragments.
I observed, however, one remarkable circumstance, namely, that many
of the surfaces presented every degree of freshness--some appearing
as if broken the day before, whilst on others lichens had either
just become, or had long grown, attached. I so fully believed that
this was owing to the frequent earthquakes, that I felt inclined to
hurry from beneath every pile of the loose masses. As this is an
observation in which one would be very apt to be deceived, I doubted
its accuracy, until ascending Mount Wellington, near Hobart Town.
The summit of that mountain is similarly composed, and similarly
shattered; but all the blocks appeared as if they had been hurled
into their present position thousands of years ago.
We spent the day on the summit, and I never enjoyed one more
thoroughly. Chile, bounded by the Andes and the Pacific, was seen as
in a map. The pleasure from the scenery, in itself beautiful, was
heightened by the many reflections which arose from the mere view
of the grand range, with its lesser parallel ones, and of the broad
valley of Quillota directly intersecting the latter. Who can avoid
admiring the wonderful force which has upheaved these mountains, and
even more so the countless ages which it must have required, to have
broken through, removed, and levelled whole masses of them? It is
well in this case to call to mind the vast shingle and sedimentary
beds of Patagonia, which, if heaped on the Cordillera, would increase
by so many thousand feet its height. When in that country, I wondered
how any mountain chain could have supplied such masses, and not have
been utterly obliterated. We must not now reverse the wonder, and
doubt whether all-powerful time can grind down mountains--even the
gigantic Cordillera--into gravel and mud.
The appearance of the Andes was different from that which I had
expected. The lower line of the snow was of course horizontal, and to
this line the even summits of the range seemed quite parallel. Only
at long intervals a mass of points, or a single cone, showed where a
volcano had existed, or does now exist. Hence the range resembled a
great solid wall, surmounted here and there by a tower, and thus made
a most complete barrier to the country.
Almost every part of the hill has been drilled by attempts to
open gold-mines. I was surprised to see, on the actual summit,
which could only be reached by climbing, a small pit, where some
yellowish crystals of hypersthene had induced somebody to throw
away his labour. The rage for mining has left scarcely a spot in
Chile unexamined. I spent the evening as before, talking round the
fire with my two companions. The Guasos of Chile, which correspond
to the Gauchos of the Pampas, are, however, a very different set of
beings. Chile is the more civilized of the two countries, and the
inhabitants, in consequence, have lost much individual character.
Gradations in rank are much more strongly marked: the Guaso does not
by any means consider every man his equal; and I was quite surprised
to find that my companions did not like to eat at the same time
with myself. This feeling of inequality is a necessary consequence
of the existence of an aristocracy of wealth. It is said that some
few of the greater landowners possess from five to ten thousand
pounds sterling per annum: an inequality of riches which I believe
is not met with in any of the cattle-breeding countries to the
eastward of the Andes. A traveller does not here meet that unbounded
hospitality which refuses all payment, but yet is so kindly offered
that no scruples can be raised in accepting it. Almost every house
in Chile will receive you for the night, but a trifle is expected
to be given in the morning; even a rich man will accept two or
three shillings. The Gaucho, although he may be a cut-throat, is
a gentleman; the Guaso is in few respects better, but at the same
time a vulgar, ordinary fellow. The two men, although employed
much in the same manner, are different in their habits and attire;
and the peculiarities of each are universal in their respective
countries. The Gaucho seems part of his horse, and scorns to exert
himself excepting when on its back; the Guaso may be hired to work
as a labourer in the fields. The former lives entirely on animal
food; the latter almost wholly on vegetable. We do not here see the
white boots, the broad drawers, and scarlet chilipa; the picturesque
costume of the Pampas. Here, common trousers are protected by black
and green worsted leggings. The poncho, however, is common to both.
The chief pride in the Guaso lies in his spurs; which are absurdly
large. I measured one which was six inches in the _diameter_ of the
rowel, and the rowel itself contained upwards of thirty points. The
stirrups are on the same scale, each consisting of a square, carved
block of wood, hollowed out, yet weighing three or four pounds. The
Guaso is perhaps more expert with the lazo than the Gaucho; but, from
the nature of the country, he does not know the use of the bolas.
AUGUST 18TH.--We descended the mountain, and passed some beautiful
little spots, with rivulets and fine trees. Having slept at the same
hacienda as before, we rode during the two succeeding days up the
valley, and passed through Quillota, which is more like a collection
of nursery-gardens than a town. The orchards were beautiful,
presenting one mass of peach-blossoms. I saw also in one or two
places the date-palm. It is a most stately tree; and I should think
a group of them in their native Asiatic and African deserts must be
superb. We passed likewise San Felipe, a pretty straggling town like
Quillota. The valley in this part expands into one of those great
bays or plains, reaching to the foot of the Cordillera, which have
been mentioned as forming so curious a part of the scenery of Chile.
In the evening we reached the mines of Jajuel, situated in a ravine
at the flank of the great chain. I staid here five days. My host,
the superintendent of the mine, was a shrewd but rather ignorant
Cornish miner. He had married a Spanish woman, and did not mean to
return home; but his admiration for the mines of Cornwall remained
unbounded. Amongst many other questions, he asked me, “Now that
George Rex is dead, how many more of the family of Rexes are yet
alive?” This Rex certainly must be a relation of the great author
Finis, who wrote all books!
These mines are of copper, and the ore is all shipped to Swansea,
to be smelted. Hence the mines have an aspect singularly quiet, as
compared to those in England: here no smoke, furnaces, or great
steam-engines, disturb the solitude of the surrounding mountains.
The Chilian government, or rather the old Spanish law, encourages by
every method the searching for mines. The discoverer may work a mine
on any ground, by paying five shillings; and before paying this he
may try, even in the garden of another man, for twenty days.
It is now well known that the Chilian method of mining is the
cheapest. My host says the two principal improvements introduced
by foreigners have been, first, reducing by previous roasting
the copper pyrites--which, being the common ore in Cornwall, the
English miners were astounded on their arrival to find thrown away
as useless: secondly, stamping and washing the scoriæ from the
furnaces--by which process particles of metal are recovered in
abundance. I have actually seen mules carrying to the coast, for
transportation to England, a cargo of such cinders. But the first
case is much the most curious. The Chilian miners were so convinced
that copper pyrites contained not a particle of copper, that they
laughed at the Englishmen for their ignorance, who laughed in turn,
and bought their richest veins for a few dollars. It is very odd
that, in a country where mining had been extensively carried on for
many years, so simple a process as gently roasting the ore, to expel
the sulphur previous to smelting it, had never been discovered. A
few improvements have likewise been introduced in some of the simple
machinery; but even to the present day, water is removed from some
mines by men carrying it up the shaft in leathern bags!
The labouring men work very hard. They have little time allowed for
their meals, and during summer and winter they begin when it is
light, and leave off at dark. They are paid one pound sterling a
month, and their food is given them: this for breakfast consists of
sixteen figs and two small loaves of bread; for dinner boiled beans;
for supper broken roasted wheatgrain. They scarcely ever taste meat;
as, with the twelve pounds per annum, they have to clothe themselves,
and support their families. The miners who work in the mine itself,
have twenty-five shillings per month, and are allowed a little
charqui. But these men come down from their bleak habitations only
once in every fortnight or three weeks.
During my stay here I thoroughly enjoyed scrambling about these
huge mountains. The geology, as might have been expected, was very
interesting. The shattered and baked rocks, traversed by innumerable
dykes of greenstone, showed what commotions had formerly taken
place there. The scenery was much the same as that near the Bell of
Quillota,--dry barren mountains, dotted at intervals by bushes with
a scanty foliage. The cactuses, or rather opuntias, were here very
numerous. I measured one of as pherical figure, which, including the
spines, was six feet and four inches in circumference. The height
of the common cylindrical, branching kind is from twelve to fifteen
feet, and the girth (with spines) of the branches between three and
four.
A heavy fall of snow on the mountains prevented me, during the last
two days, from making some interesting excursions. I attempted
to reach a lake, which the inhabitants, from some unaccountable
reason, believe to be an arm of the sea. During a very dry season,
it was proposed to attempt cutting a channel from it, for the sake
of the water; but the padre, after a consultation, declared it was
too dangerous, as all Chile would be inundated, if, as generally
supposed, the lake was connected with the Pacific. We ascended to a
great height, but becoming involved in the snow-drifts, failed in
reaching this wonderful lake, and had some difficulty in returning.
I thought we should have lost our horses; for there was no means of
guessing how deep the drifts were, and the animals, when led, could
only move by jumping. The black sky showed that a fresh snow-storm
was gathering, and we therefore were not a little glad when we
escaped. By the time we reached the base, the storm commenced, and it
was lucky for us that this did not happen three hours earlier in the
day.
AUGUST 26TH.--We left Jajuel and again crossed the basin of
S. Felipe. The day was truly Chilian: glaringly bright, and
the atmosphere quite clear. The thick and uniform covering of
newly-fallen snow rendered the view of the volcano of Aconcagua and
the main chain quite glorious. We were now on the road to Santiago,
the capital of Chile. We crossed the Cerro del Talguen, and slept
at a little rancho. The host, talking about the state of Chile as
compared to other countries, was very humble: “Some see with two
eyes, and some with one, but for my part I do not think that Chile
sees with any.”
AUGUST 27TH.--After crossing many low hills, we descended into the
small land-locked plain of Guitron. In the basins, such as this one,
which are elevated from 1000 to 2000 feet above the sea, two species
of acacia, which are stunted in their forms, and stand wide apart
from each other, grow in large numbers. These trees are never found
near the sea-coast; and this gives another characteristic feature to
the scenery of these basins.
We crossed a low ridge which separates Guitron from the great plain
on which Santiago stands. The view was here pre-eminently striking:
the dead level surface, covered in parts by woods of acacia, and with
the city in the distance, abutting horizontally against the base of
the Andes, whose snowy peaks were bright with the evening sun. At
the first glance of this view it was quite evident that the plain
represented the extent of a former inland sea. As soon as we gained
the level road we pushed our horses into a gallop, and reached the
city before it was dark.
I staid a week in Santiago, and enjoyed myself very much. In the
morning I rode to various places on the plain, and in the evening
dined with several of the English merchants, whose hospitality at
this place is well known. A never-failing source of pleasure, was to
ascend the little pap of rock (fort St. Lucia) which projects in the
middle of the city. The scenery certainly is most striking, and as
I have said, very peculiar. I am informed that this same character
is common to the cities on the great Mexican platform. Of the town
I have nothing to say in detail: it is not so fine or so large as
Buenos Ayres, but is built after the same model. I arrived here by
a circuit to the north; so I resolved to return to Valparaiso, by a
rather longer excursion, to the southward of the direct road.
SEPTEMBER 5TH.--By the middle of the day we arrived at one of the
suspension bridges, made of hide, which crosses the Maypo, a large
turbulent river, a few leagues south of Santiago. These bridges
are very poor affairs. The road, following the curvature of the
suspending ropes, is made of bundles of sticks placed close together.
It was full of holes, and oscillated rather fearfully, even from
the weight of a man leading his horse. In the evening we reached
a comfortable farm-house, where there were several very pretty
signoritas. They were much horrified at my having entered one of
their churches out of mere curiosity. They asked me, “Why do you not
become a Christian--for our religion is certain?” I assured them I
was a sort of Christian; but they would not hear of it--appealing to
my own words, “Do not your padres, your very bishops, marry?” The
absurdity of a bishop having a wife, particularly struck them: they
scarcely knew whether to be most amused or horror-struck at such an
enormity.
6TH.--We proceeded due south, and slept at Rancagua. The road passed
over the level but narrow plain, bounded on one side by lofty hills,
and on the other by the Cordillera. The next day we turned up the
valley of the Rio Cachapual, in which the hot baths of Cauquenes,
long celebrated for their medicinal properties, are situated. The
suspension bridges, in the less frequented parts, are generally taken
down during the winter, when the rivers are low. Such was the case
in this valley, and we were therefore obliged to cross the stream on
horseback. This is rather disagreeable, for the foaming water, though
not deep, rushes so quickly over the bed of large rounded stones,
that one’s head becomes quite confused, and it is difficult even
to perceive whether the horse is moving onward, or standing still.
In summer, when the snow melts, the torrents are quite impassable:
their strength and fury is then extremely great; as might be plainly
seen, by the marks which they had left. We reached the baths in the
evening, and staid there five days, being confined the two last by
heavy rain. The buildings consist of a square of miserable little
hovels, each with a single table and bench. They are situated in a
narrow deep valley, just without the central Cordillera. It is a
quiet, solitary spot, with a good deal of wild beauty.
The mineral springs of Cauquenes burst forth on a line of
dislocation, crossing a mass of stratified rock, the whole of which
betrays the action of heat. A considerable quantity of gas is
continually escaping from the same orifices with the water. Though
the springs are only a few yards apart, they have very different
temperatures; and this appears to be the result of an unequal
mixture of cold water: for those with the lowest temperature have
scarcely any mineral taste. After the great earthquake of 1822, the
springs ceased, and the water did not return for nearly a year.
It is said that they have not since regained their former volume
or temperature.[1] These springs were also much affected by the
earthquake of 1835; the temperature being suddenly changed from
118° to 92°.[2] It seems probable that mineral waters rising deep
from the bowels of the earth, would always be more deranged by
subterranean disturbances, than those nearer the surface. The man
who had charge of the baths assured me, that in summer the water is
hotter and more plentiful than in winter. The former circumstance I
should have expected, from the less mixture, during the dry season,
of cold water; but the latter statement appears very strange and
contradictory. The periodical increase during the summer when rain
never falls, can, I think, only be accounted for by the melting of
the snow: yet the mountains which are covered by snow during that
season are three or four leagues distant from the springs. I have
no reason to doubt the accuracy of my informer, who having lived on
the spot for several years, ought to be well acquainted with the
circumstance,--which, if true, certainly is very curious: for, we
must suppose that the water, being conducted through porous strata to
the regions of heat, is again thrown up to the surface by the line of
dislocated and injected rock at Cauquenes; and the regularity of the
phenomenon would seem to indicate that in this district heated rock
occurred at a depth not excessively great.
One day I rode up the valley to the furthest inhabited spot. Shortly
above that point, the Cachapual divides into two deep tremendous
ravines, which penetrate directly into the great range. I scrambled
up a peaked mountain, probably more than six thousand feet high.
Here, as indeed every where else, scenes of the highest interest
presented themselves. It was by one of these ravines that Pincheira
entered Chile, and ravaged the neighbouring country. This is the same
man whose attack on an estancia at the Rio Negro I have described.
He was a renegade half-cast Spaniard, who collected a great body of
Indians together, and established himself by a stream in the Pampas,
which place none of the forces sent after him could ever discover.
From this point he used to sally forth, and crossing the Cordillera
by passes hitherto unattempted, he ravaged the farm-houses, and
drove the cattle to his secret rendezvous. Pincheira was a capital
horseman, and he made all around him equally good, for he invariably
shot any one who hesitated to follow him. It was against this man,
and other wandering Indian tribes, that Rosas waged the war of
extermination.
SEPTEMBER 13TH.--We left the baths of Cauquenes, and rejoining the
main road, slept at the Rio Claro. From this place we rode to the
town of S. Fernando. Before arriving there, the last basin had
expanded into a great plain, which extended so far to the south,
that the snowy summits of the more distant Andes were seen, as if
above the horizon of the sea. S. Fernando is forty leagues from
Santiago; and it was my furthest point southward; for we here turned
at right angles towards the coast. We slept at the gold-mines of
Yaquil, which are worked by Mr. Nixon, an American gentleman, to
whose kindness I was much indebted during the four days I staid at
his house.
SEPTEMBER 14TH.--This morning we rode to the mines, which are
situated at the distance of some leagues, near the summit of a lofty
hill. On the way we had a glimpse of the lake Tagua-tagua, celebrated
for its floating islands, which have been described by M. Gay.[3]
They are composed of the stalks of various dead plants intertwined
together, and on the surface of which other living ones take root.
Their form is generally circular, and their thickness from four to
six feet, of which the greater part is immersed in the water. As the
wind blows they pass from one side of the lake to the other, and
often carry cattle and horses as passengers.
When we arrived at the mine, I was struck by the pale appearance
of many of the men, and inquired from Mr. Nixon respecting their
condition. The mine is 450 feet deep, and each man brings up about
200 pounds[4] weight of stone. With this load they have to climb up
the alternate notches cut in the trunks of trees, placed in a zigzag
line up the shaft. Even beardless young men, eighteen and twenty
years old, with little muscular development of their bodies (they
are quite naked excepting drawers) ascend with this great load from
nearly the same depth. A strong man, who is not accustomed to this
labour, perspires most profusely, with merely carrying up his own
body. With this very severe labour, they live entirely on boiled
beans and bread. They would prefer having the latter alone; but
their masters, finding they cannot work so hard upon this, treat them
like horses, and make them eat the beans. Their pay is here rather
more than at the mines of Jajuel, being from 24 to 28 shillings per
month. They leave the mine only once in three weeks; when they stay
with their families for two days.[5] One of the rules in this mine
sounds very harsh, but answers pretty well for the master. The only
method of stealing gold, is to secrete pieces of the ore, and take
them out as occasion may offer. Whenever the major-domo finds a lump
thus hidden, its full value is stopped out of the wages of all the
men; who thus, without they all combine, are obliged to keep watch
over each other.
When the ore is brought to the mill, it is ground into an impalpable
powder; the process of washing removes all the lighter particles,
and amalgamation finally secures the gold dust. The washing, when
described, sounds a very simple process; but it is beautiful to
see how the exact adaption of the current of water to the specific
gravity of the gold, so easily separates the powdered matrix from the
metal. The mud which passes from the mills is collected into pools,
where it subsides, and every now and then is cleared out, and thrown
into a common heap. A great deal of chemical action then commences,
salts of various kinds effloresce on the surface, and the mass
becomes hard. In the heap which I examined, an angulo-concretionary
structure was also superinduced, and what was very remarkable, these
pseudo-fragments possessed an even and well-defined slaty structure;
but the laminæ were not inclined at any uniform angle. The mud, after
having been left for a year or two, and then rewashed, yields gold;
and this process may be repeated even six or seven times; but the
gold each time becomes less in quantity, and the intervals required
(as the inhabitants say to generate the metal) are longer. There can
be no doubt that the chemical action, already mentioned, each time
liberates fresh gold from some combination. The discovery of a method
to effect this before the first grinding, would without doubt raise
the value of gold ores many fold.
It is curious to find how the minute particles of gold, after being
scattered about, and from not corroding, at last accumulate in
some quantity. A short time since a few miners, being out of work,
obtained permission to scrape the ground round the house and mill:
they washed the earth thus got together, and so procured thirty
dollars’ worth of gold. This is an exact counterpart of what takes
place in nature. Mountains suffer degradation and wear away, and
with them the metallic veins which they contain. The hardest rock
is worn into impalpable mud, the ordinary metals oxidate, and
both are removed; but gold, platina, and a few others, are nearly
indestructible, and from their weight, sinking to the bottom, are
left behind. After whole mountains have passed through this grinding
mill, and have been washed by the hand of nature, the residue becomes
metalliferous, and man finds it worth his while to complete the task
of separation.
There are some old Indian ruins in this neighbourhood, and I was
shown one of the perforated stones which Molina[6] mentions, as being
found in many places in considerable numbers. They are of a circular
flattened form, from five to six inches in diameter, and with a hole
passing quite through the centre. It has generally been supposed,
that they were used as heads to clubs, although their form does not
appear at all well adapted for that purpose. Burchell[7] states that
some of the tribes in Southern Africa dig up roots, by the aid of a
pointed stick, the force and weight of which is increased by a round
stone with a hole, into which the stick is firmly wedged. It appears
probable that the Indians of Chile formerly used some such rude
agricultural instrument.
One day, a German collector in natural history, of the name of
Renous, called, and nearly at the same time an old Spanish lawyer. I
was amused by afterwards hearing the conversation which took place
between them. Renous speaks Spanish so well, that the old lawyer
mistook him for a fellow-countryman. Renous, alluding to myself,
asked him what he thought of the King of England sending out a
collector to their country, to pick up lizards and beetles, and to
break stones? The old gentleman thought seriously for some time, and
then said, “It is not well,--_hay un gato encerrado aqui_ (there is
a cat shut up here). No man is so rich as to send out people to pick
up such rubbish. I do not like it: if one of us were to go and do
such things in England, do not you think the King of England would
very soon send us out of his country?” And this old gentleman, from
his profession, belongs to the better informed and more intelligent
classes! Renous himself, two or three years before, left in a house
at S. Fernando some caterpillars, under charge of a girl to feed,
that they might turn into butterflies. This was rumoured through the
town, and at last the Padres and Governor consulted together, and
agreed it must be some heresy. Accordingly, when Renous returned, he
was arrested.
SEPTEMBER 19TH.--We left Yaquil, and followed the flat valley, formed
like that of Quillota, in which the Rio Tinderidica flows. Even at
these few miles south of Santiago the climate is much damper; in
consequence there were fine tracks of pasturage, which were not
irrigated. (20th.) We followed this valley till it expanded into
a great plain, which reaches from the sea to the mountains west of
Rancagua. We shortly lost all trees and even bushes; so that the
inhabitants are nearly as badly off for firewood as those in the
Pampas. Never having heard of these plains, I was much surprised
at meeting with such scenery in Chile. The plains belong to more
than one series of different elevations, and they are traversed by
broad flat-bottomed valleys; both of which circumstances, as in
Patagonia, bespeak the gentle retreat of the ocean. In the steep
cliffs bordering these valleys, there are some large caves, which no
doubt were formed by the waters of the ancient bays and channels. One
of these which I visited is celebrated under the name of Cueva del
Obispo; having formerly been consecrated. During the day I felt very
unwell, and from that time till the end of October did not recover.
SEPTEMBER 22D.--We continued to pass over green plains without
a tree. The next day we arrived at a house near Navedad, on the
sea-coast, where a rich Haciendero gave us lodgings. I stayed here
the two ensuing days, and although very unwell, managed to collect
from the tertiary formation some marine shells, many of which turn
out to be quite new forms. 24th. Our course was now directed towards
Valparaiso, which with great difficulty I reached on the 27th, and
was there confined to my bed till the end of October. During this
time I was an inmate in Mr. Corfield’s house, whose kindness to me I
do not know how to express.
I will here add a few observations on some of the animals and birds
of Chile. The Puma, or South American Lion, is not uncommon. This
animal has a wide geographical range; being found from the equatorial
forests, throughout the deserts of Patagonia, as far south as the
damp and cold latitudes (53° to 54°) of Tierra del Fuego. I have
also seen its footsteps in the Cordillera of central Chile, at an
elevation of at least 10,000 feet. In La Plata the puma chiefly preys
on deer, ostriches, bizcacha, and other small quadrupeds; it there
seldom attacks cattle or horses, and except in most rare cases, as a
female having young, is never dangerous to man. In Chile, however, it
destroys many young horses and cattle, owing probably to the scarcity
of other quadrupeds: I heard, likewise, of two men and a woman who
had been killed by them. It is asserted that the puma always kills
its prey by springing on the shoulders, and then drawing back the
head with one of its paws, until the vertebræ break: I have seen
in Patagonia, the skeletons of guanacoes, with their necks thus
dislocated.
The puma, after eating its fill, covers the carcass with many large
bushes, and lies down to watch it. This habit is often the cause of
its being discovered; for the condors wheeling in the air, every
now and then descend to partake of the feast, and being angrily
driven away, rise all together on the wing. The Chileno Guaso then
knows there is a lion watching his prey--the word is given--and men
and dogs hurry to the chase. Sir F. Head says that a Gaucho in the
Pampas, upon merely seeing some condors wheeling in the air, cried
“A lion!” I could never myself meet with any one who pretended to
such powers of discrimination. It is asserted, that if a puma has
once been betrayed by thus watching the carcass, and has then been
hunted, it never resumes this habit; but that having gorged itself,
it wanders far away.
The puma is easily killed. In an open country, it is first entangled
with the bolas, then lazoed, and dragged along the ground till
rendered insensible. At Tandeel (south of the Plata), I was told,
that within three months one hundred were destroyed. In Chile they
are generally driven up bushes or trees, and are then either shot, or
baited to death by dogs. The dogs employed in this chase belong to
a particular breed, called Leoneros. They are weak, slight animals,
like long-legged terriers, but are born with a particular instinct
for this sport. The puma is described as being very crafty: when
pursued it often returns on its former track, and then suddenly
making a spring on one side, waits there till the dogs have passed
by. It is a very silent animal, uttering no cry even when wounded,
and only rarely during the breeding season.
Of birds, two species of the genus _Pteroptochos_ (_megapodius_
and _albicollis_ of Kittlitz) are perhaps the most conspicuous.
The former, called by the Chilenos “el Turco,” is as large as a
fieldfare, to which bird it has some alliance; but its legs are much
longer, tail shorter, and beak stronger: its colour is a reddish
brown. The turco is not uncommon. It lives on the ground, sheltered
among the thickets which are scattered over the dry and sterile
hills. With its tail erect, and stilt-like legs, it may be seen
every now and then, popping from one bush to another, with uncommon
celerity. It really requires little imagination to believe the bird
is ashamed of itself, and is aware of its most ridiculous figure.
On first seeing it, one is tempted to exclaim, “A vilely stuffed
specimen has escaped from some museum, and has come to life again!”
It cannot be made to take flight without the greatest trouble, nor
does it run, but only hops. The various loud cries which it utters
when concealed amongst the bushes, are as strange as its whole
appearance. It is said to build its nest in a deep hole beneath the
ground. I dissected several specimens: the gizzard, which was very
muscular, contained beetles, vegetable fibres, and pebbles. From
this character, from the length of legs, scratching feet, membranous
covering to the nostrils, short and arched wings, this bird seems to
a certain degree to connect the thrushes with the gallinaceous order.
The second species (or _Pt. albicollis_) is allied to the first in
its general form. It is called Tapacolo, or “cover your posterior;”
and well does the shameless little bird deserve its name; for it
carries its tail more than erect, that is, inclined backwards
towards its head. It is very common, and frequents the bottoms of
hedge-rows, and the bushes scattered over the barren hills, where
scarcely another bird can exist. Hence the tapacolo is conspicuous
in the ornithology of Chile. In its general manner of feeding, of
quickly hopping out of the thickets and back again, in its desire of
concealment, unwillingness to take flight, and nidification, it bears
a close resemblance to the turco; but its appearance is not quite
so ridiculous. The tapacolo is very crafty: when frightened by any
person, it will remain motionless at the bottom of a bush, and will
then, after a little while, try with much address to crawl away on
the opposite side. It is also an active bird, and continually making
a noise: these noises are various and strangely odd; some are like
the cooing of doves, others like the bubbling of water, and many defy
all similes. The country people say it changes its cry five times in
the year--according to some change of season I suppose. I believe
these two species of Pteroptochos are only found in central Chile.
To the southward, within the damp forest region, two other species
supply the place of these lovers of a more sterile land; and a fifth
species is common to both districts. On the Patagonian coast a bird
allied to them, both in structure and habits, represents this Chilian
genus.[8]
Two species of humming-birds are common, and I have seen a third
kind within the Cordillera, at an elevation of about 10,000 feet.
_Mellisuga Kingii_ is found over a space of 2500 miles on the west
coast, from the hot dry country of Lima, to the forests of Tierra
del Fuego--where it has been described as flitting about in a
snow-storm. In the wooded island of Chiloe, which has an extremely
humid climate, this little bird, skipping from side to side amidst
the dripping foliage, is perhaps more abundant than almost any other
kind. It there very commonly frequents open marshy ground, where a
kind of bromelia grows: hovering near the edge of the thick beds,
it every now and then dashed in close to the ground; but I could
not see whether it ever actually alighted. At the time of year I
refer to, there were very few flowers, and none whatever near the
beds of bromelia. Hence I was quite sure they did not live on honey;
and on opening the stomach and upper intestine, by the aid of a
lens I could plainly distinguish, in a yellow fluid, morsels of the
wings of diptera--probably tipulidæ. It is evident that these birds
search for minute insects in their winter-quarters under the thick
foliage. I opened the stomachs of several specimens, which were shot
in different parts of the continent; and in all, remains of insects
were so numerous, as often to present a black comminuted mass, as in
the stomach of a creeper. In central Chile these birds are migratory:
they make their appearance there in autumn, and in the latter end of
the month corresponding to our October, they were very common. In
the spring they began to disappear, and on the 12th of what would
correspond to our March, in the course of a long walk, I saw only one
individual. As this species migrates to the southward, it is replaced
by the arrival of a larger kind, which will be presently described.
I do not believe the small kind breeds in Chile; for, during the
summer, their nests were common to the south of that country. The
migration of the humming-birds on both the east[9] and west coast
of North America exactly corresponds to what takes place in this
southern continent. In both cases they move towards the tropic
during the colder parts of the year, and retreat northward before
the returning heat. Some, however, remain during the whole year in
Tierra del Fuego; and in Northern California,--which in the northern
hemisphere has the same relative position which Tierra del Fuego has
in the southern,--some, according to Beechey, likewise remain.
The second species (_Trochilus gigas_) is a very large bird, for
the delicate family to which it belongs. In the neighbourhood of
Valparaiso, during this year, it had arrived in numbers, a little
before the vernal equinox. It comes from the parched deserts of the
north, probably for the purpose of breeding in Chile. When on the
wing, the appearance of this bird is singular. Like others of the
genus, it moves from place to place with a rapidity which may be
compared to that of Syrphus amongst diptera, and Sphinx among moths;
but whilst hovering over a flower, it flaps its wings with a very
slow and powerful movement, totally different from that vibratory
one common to most of the species, which produces the humming noise.
I never saw any other bird, where the force of its wings appeared
(as in a butterfly) so powerful in proportion to the weight of its
body. When hovering by a flower, its tail is constantly expanded and
shut like a fan, the body being kept in a nearly vertical position.
This action appears to steady and support the bird, between the slow
movements of its wings. Although flying from flower to flower in
search of food, its stomach generally contained abundant remains of
insects, which I suspect are much more the object of its search than
honey is. The note of this species, like that of nearly the whole
family, is extremely shrill.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] When I doubted the change of temperature, in this case as well
as in the one mentioned a few lines lower down, the inhabitants
maintained that they knew it well. Their thermometer, however, was
an odd one: it is the common custom in this country to scald a fowl
before plucking it, in the same manner as we treat a pig, and then
the feathers come off very easily: they judged from the comparative
facility with which this operation could be performed during the two
periods.
[2] Caldcleugh’s Philosoph. Transact. for 1836.
[3] Annales des Sciences Naturelles, March, 1833. M. Gay, a zealous
and able naturalist, is now occupied in studying every branch of
natural history throughout the kingdom of Chile.
[4] In another mine, as will hereafter be mentioned, I picked out a
load by hazard, and weighed it: it was 197 pounds.
[5] Bad as all the above treatment appears, it is gladly accepted of
by the miners; for the condition of the labouring agriculturists is
much worse. The wages of the latter are lower, and they live almost
exclusively on beans. This poverty must be chiefly owing to the
feudal-like system on which the land is tilled. The landowner gives a
small plot of ground to the labourer, for building and cultivating,
and in return has his services (or that of a proxy) for every day of
his life, without any wages. Until a father has a grown up son who
can by his labour pay the rent, there is no one, except on chance
days, to take care of the patch of ground. Hence extreme poverty is
very common among the labouring classes in this country.
[6] Molina, Compendio de la Historia, &c. del Reyno de Chile, vol.
i., p. 81.
[7] Burchell’s Travels, vol. ii., p. 45.
[8] It is a remarkable fact, that Molina, though describing in
detail all the birds and animals of Chile, never once mentions
this genus, the species of which are so common, and so remarkable
in their habits. Was he at a loss how to classify them, and did he
consequently think that silence was the more prudent course? It is
one more instance of the frequency of omission by authors, on those
very subjects where it would be least expected.
[9] Humboldt’s Pers. Narr., vol. v., part i., p. 352; Cook’s Third
Voyage, vol. ii.; and Beechey’s Voyage.