forests, already mentioned; but the trees in many places are more
closely set; assuming the character of thickets, or “jungles.” These
tracts end among the spurs of the Andes,—which, at some points, are
thrown out into the plain, but generally rise up from it abruptly and by
a well-defined border.
The marshes and bitter lakes above mentioned are the produce of numerous
streams, which have their rise in the Great Cordillera of the Andes, and
run eastward across the Pampas. A few of these, that trend in a
southerly direction, reach the Atlantic by means of the two great
outlets,—the “Colorado” and “Negro.” All the others—and “their name is
legion”—empty their waters into the morasses and lakes, or sink into the
soil of the plains, at a greater or less distance from the Cordillera,
according to the body of water they may carry down. Evaporation keeps up
the equilibrium.
Who are the dwellers upon the Pampas? To whom does this vast
pasture-ground belong? Whose flocks and herds are they that browse upon
it?
You will be told that the Pampas belong to the republic of Buenos Ayres,
or rather to the “States of the Argentine Confederation,”—that they are
inhabited by a class of citizens called “Gauchos,” who are of Spanish
race, and whose sole occupation is that of herdsmen, breeders of cattle
and horses,—men famed for their skill as horsemen, and for their
dexterity in the use of the “lazo” and “bolas,”—two weapons borrowed
from the aboriginal races.
All this is but partially true. The proprietorship of this great plain
was never actually in the hands of the Buenos-Ayrean government, nor in
those of their predecessors,—the Spaniards. Neither has ever owned
it—either by conquest or otherwise—no further than by an empty boast of
ownership; for, from the day when they first set foot upon its borders
to the present hour, neither has ever been able to cross it, or
penetrate any great distance into it, without a grand army to back their
progress. But their possession virtually ceased at the termination of
each melancholy excursion; and the land relapsed to its original owners.
With the exception of some scanty strips along its borders, and some
wider ranges, thinly occupied by the half-nomade Gauchos, the Pampas are
in reality an Indian territory, as they have always been; and the claim
of the white man is no more than nominal,—a mere title upon the map. It
is not the only vast expanse of Spanish-American soil that _never was
Spanish_.
The true owners of the Pampas, then, are the red aborigines,—the Pampas
Indians; and to give some account of these is now our purpose.
Forming so large an extent, it is not likely it should all belong to one
united tribe,—that would at once elevate them into the character of a
nation. But they are not united. On the contrary, they form several
distinct associations, with an endless number of smaller subdivisions or
communities,—just in the same way as it is among their prairie cousins
of the north. They may all, however, be referred to four grand tribal
associations or nationalities,—the _Pehuenches_, _Puelches_,
_Picunches_, and _Ranqueles_.
Some add the _Puilliches_, who dwell on the southern rim of the Pampas;
but these, although they extend their excursions over a portion of the
great plain, are different from the other Pampas Indians in many
respects,—altogether a braver and better race of men, and partaking more
of the character of the Patagonians,—both in point of _physique_ and
_morale_,—of which tribes, indeed, they are evidently only a branch, In
their dealings with white men, when fairly treated, these have exhibited
the same noble bearing which characterizes the true Patagonian. I shall
not, therefore, lower the standard—neither of their bodies nor their
minds—by classing them among “Pampas Indians.”
Of these tribes—one and all of them—we have, unfortunately, a much less
favorable impression; and shall therefore be able to say but little to
their credit.
The different names are all native. _Puelches_ means the people living
to the east, from “_puel_,” east, and _che_, people. The _Picunches_
derive this appellation, in a similar fashion, from “_picun_,”
signifying the north. The _Pehuenches_ are the people of the pine-tree
country, from “_pehuen_,” the name for the celebrated “Chili pine”
(_Araucaria_); and the _Ranqueles_ are the men who dwell among the
thistles, from _ranquel_, a thistle.
These national appellations will give some idea of the locality which
each tribe inhabits. The _Ranqueles_ dwell, not among the thistles,—for
that would be an unpleasant residence, even to a red-skin; but along the
western border of this tract. To the westward of them, and up into the
clefts of the Cordilleras extends the country of the Pehuenches; and
northward of both lies the land of the Picunches. Their boundary in that
direction _should be_ the frontiers of the _quasi-civilized_ provinces
of San Luis and Cordova, but they are not; for the Picunche can at will
extend his plundering forays as far north as he pleases: even to
_dovetailing_ them into the similar excursions of his _Guaycuru_ kinsmen
from the “Gran Chaco” on the north.
The Puelche territory is on the eastern side of the Pampas, and south
from Buenos Ayres. At one time these people occupied the country to the
banks of the La Plata; and no doubt it was they who first met the
Spaniards in hostile array. Even up to a late period their forays
extended almost to Buenos Ayres itself; but Rosas, tyrant as he may have
been, was nevertheless a true soldier, and in a grand military
expedition against them swept their country, and inflicted such a
terrible chastisement upon both them and the neighboring tribes, as they
had not suffered since the days of Mendoza. The result has been a
retirement of the Puelche frontier to a much greater distance from
Buenos Ayres; but how long it may continue stationary is a question,—no
longer than some strong arm—such as that of Rosas—is held threateningly
over them.
It is usual to inquire whence come a people; and the question has been
asked of the Pampas Indians. It is not difficult to answer. They came
from the land of Arauco. Yes, they are the kindred of that famed people
whom the Spaniards could never subdue,—even with all their strength put
forth in the effort. They are near kindred too,—the Pehuenches
especially,—whose country is only separated from that of the Araucanians
by the great Cordillera of Chili; and with whom, as well as the
Spaniards on the Chilian side, they have constant and friendly
intercourse.
But it must be admitted, that the Araucanians have had far more than
their just meed of praise. The romantic stories, in that endless epic of
the rhymer Ercilla, have crept into history; and the credulous Molina
has endorsed them: so that the true character of the Araucanian Indian
has never been understood. Brave he has shown himself, beyond doubt, in
defending his country against Spanish aggression; but so, too, has the
Carib and Guaraon,—so, too, has the Comanche and Apache, the Yaqui of
Sonora, the savage of the Mosquito shore, the Guaycuru of the Gran
Chaco, and a score of other Indian tribes,—in whose territory the
Spaniard has never dared to fix a settlement. Brave is the Araucanian;
but, beyond this, he has few virtues indeed. He is cruel in the
extreme,—uncivil and selfish,—filthy and indolent,—a polygamist in the
most approved fashion,—a very tyrant over his own,—in short, taking rank
among the beastliest of semi-civilized savages,—for it may be here
observed, that he is not exactly what is termed a _savage_: that is, he
does not go naked, and sleep in the open air. On the contrary, he
clothes himself in stuff of his own weaving,—or rather, that of his
slave-wives,—and lives in a hut which they build for him. He owns land,
too,—beautiful fields,—of which he makes no use: except to browse a few
horses, and sheep, and cattle. For the rest, he is too indolent to
pursue agriculture; and spends most of his time in drinking _chicha_, or
tyrannizing over his wives. This is the heroic Araucanian who inhabits
the plains and valleys of Southern Chili.
Unfortunately, by passing to the other side of the Andes, he has not
improved his manners. The air of the Pampas does not appear to be
conducive to virtue; and upon that side of the mountains it can scarce
be said to exist,—even in the shape of personal courage. The men of the
pines and thistles seem to have lost this quality, while passing through
the snows of the Cordilleras, or left it behind them, as they have also
left the incipient civilization of their race. On the Pampas we find
them once more in the character of the true savage: living by the chase
or by plunder; and bartering the produce of the latter for the trappings
and trinkets of personal adornment, supplied them by the unprincipled
white trader. Puelches and Picunches, Pehuenches and Ranqueles, all
share this character alike,—all are treacherous, quarrelsome, and
cowardly.
But we shall now speak more particularly of their customs and modes of
life, and we may take the “pine people” as our text,—since these are
supposed to be most nearly related to the true Araucanians,—and, indeed,
many of their “ways” are exactly the same as those of that “heroic
nation.”
The “people of the pines” are of the ordinary stature of North-American
Indians, or of Europeans; and their natural color is a dark coppery hue.
But it is not often you can see them in their natural color: for the
Pampas Indians, like nearly all the aboriginal tribes, are “painters.”
They have pigments of black and white, blue, red, and yellow,—all of
which they obtain from different colored stones, found in the streams of
the Cordilleras. “Yama,” they call the black stone; “colo,” the red;
“palan,” the white; and “codin,” the blue; the yellow they obtain from a
sort of argillaceous earth. The stones of each color they submit to a
rubbing or grinding process, until a quantity of dust is produced;
which, being mixed with suet, constitutes the paint, ready for being
laid on.
The Pampas Indians do not confine themselves to any particular
“escutcheon.” In this respect their fancy is allowed a wide scope, and
their fashions change. A face quite black, or red, is a common
countenance among them; and often may be seen a single band, of about
two inches in width, extending from ear to ear across the eyes and nose.
On war excursions they paint hideous figures: not only on their own
faces and bodies, but on their trappings, and even upon the bodies of
their horses,—aiming to render themselves as appalling as possible in
the sight of their enemies. The same trick is employed by the warriors
of the prairies, as well as in many other parts of the world. Under
ordinary circumstances, the Pampas Indian is not a _naked_ savage. On
the contrary, he is well clad; and, so far from obtaining the material
of his garments from the looms of civilized nations, he weaves it for
himself,—that is, his wives weave it; and in such quantity that he has
not only enough for his own “wear,” but more than enough, a surplus for
trade. The cloth is usually a stuff spun and woven from sheep’s wool. It
is coarse, but durable; and in the shape of blankets or “ponchos,” is
eagerly purchased by the Spanish traders. Silver spurs, long, pointed
knives, lance-heads, and a few other iron commodities, constitute the
articles of exchange, with various ornamental articles, as beads, rings,
bracelets, and large-headed silver bodkins to fasten their cloaks around
the shoulders of his “ladies.” Nor is he contented with mere tinsel, as
other savages are,—he can tell the difference between the real metal and
the counterfeit, as well as the most expert assayer; and if he should
fancy to have a pair of silver spurs, not even a Jew pedler could put
off upon him the plated “article.” In this respect the Araucanian Indian
has been distinguished, since his earliest intercourse with Europeans;
and his Pampas kindred are equally subtle in their appreciation.
The Pampas Indian, when well dressed, has a cloak upon his shoulders of
the thick woollen stuff already described. It is usually woven in
colors; and is not unlike the “poncho” worn by the “gauchos” of Buenos
Ayres, or the “serape” of the Mexicans. Besides the cloak, his dress
consists of a mere skirt,—also of colored woollen stuff, being an oblong
piece swathed around his loins, and reaching to the knee. A sash or
belt—sometimes elaborately ornamented—binds the cloth around the waist.
Boots of a peculiar construction complete the costume. These are
manufactured in a very simple manner. The fresh skin taken from a
horse’s hind leg is drawn on—just as if it were a stocking—until the
heel rests in that part which covered the hock-joint of the original
wearer. The superfluous portion is then trimmed to accommodate itself as
a covering for the foot; and the boot is not only finished, but put
on,—there to remain until it is worn out, and a new one required! If it
should be a little loose at first, that does not matter. The hot sun,
combined with the warmth of the wearer’s leg, soon contracts the hide,
and brings it to “fit like a glove.” The head is often left uncovered;
but as often a sort of skull-cap or helmet of horse-skin is worn; and
not unfrequently a high, conical hat of palm-fibre. This last is not a
native production, but an importation of the traders. So also is a pair
of enormous rings of brass, which are worn in the ears; and are as bulky
as a pair of padlocks. In this costume, mounted on horseback with his
long lance in hand, the Pampas Indian would be a picturesque object; and
really is so, when _clean_; but that is only on the very rarest
occasions,—only when he has donned a new suit. At all other times, not
only his face and the skin of his body, but every rag upon his back, are
covered with grease and filth,—so as to produce an effect rather
“tatterdemalion” than picturesque.
The “squaw” is costumed somewhat differently. First she has a long
“robe,” which covers her from neck to heels, leaving only her neck and
arms bare. The robe is of red or blue woollen stuff of her own weaving.
This garment is the “quedeto.” A belt, embroidered with beads, called
“quepique,” holds it around the waist, by means of a large silver
buckle. This belt is an article of first fashion. Over the shoulders
hangs the “iquilla,” which is a square piece of similar stuff,—but
usually of a different dye; and which is fastened in front by a pin with
a large silver head, called the “tupo.” The shock of thick, black
hair—after having received the usual anointment of mare’s tallow, the
fashionable hair-oil of the Pampas Indians—is kept in its place by a
sort of cap or _coiffure_, like a shallow dish inverted, and bristling
all over with trader’s beads. To this a little bell is fastened; or
sometimes a brace of them are worn as ear-rings. These tinkle so
agreeably in the ears of the wearer, that she can scarce for a moment
hold her head at rest, but keeps rocking it from side to side, as a
Spanish coquette would play with her fan.
In addition to this varied wardrobe, the Pampas belle carries a large
stock of bijouterie,—such as beads and bangles upon her neck, rings and
circlets upon her arms, ankles, and fingers; and, to set her snaky locks
in order, she separates them by means of a stiff brush, made from the
fibrous roots of a reed. _She_ is _picturesque_ enough, but never
_pretty_. Nature has given the Araucanian woman a plain face; and all
the adornment in the world cannot hide its homeliness.
The Pehuenche builds no house. He is a true nomade, and dwells in a
tent, though one of the rudest construction. As it differs entirely from
the tent of the prairie Indians, it may be worth while describing it.
Its framework is of reeds,—of the same kind as are used for the long
lances so often mentioned; and which resemble _bambusa_ canes. They grow
in plenty throughout the Pampas, especially near the mountains,—where
they form impenetrable thickets on the borders of the marshy lakes. Any
other flexible poles will serve as well, when the canes are not “handy.”
The poles being procured, one is first bent into a semicircle, and in
this shape both ends are stuck into the ground, so as to form an arch
about three feet in height. This arch afterwards becomes the doorway or
entrance to the tent. The remaining poles are attached to this first one
at one end, and at right angles; and being carried backward with a
slight bend, their other ends are inserted into the turf. This forms the
skeleton of the tent; and its covering is a horse-skin, or rather a
number of horse-skins stitched together, making a sort of large
tarpaulin. The skins are sewed with the sinews of the horse or ox,—which
are first chewed by the women, until their fibres become separated like
hemp, and are afterwards spun by them into twine.
The tent is not tall enough to admit of a man standing erect; and in it
the Pehuenche crouches, whenever it snows, rains, or blows cold. He has
sheep-skins spread to sleep upon, and other skins to serve as
bed-clothes,—all in so filthy a condition, that but for the cold, he
might find it far more comfortable to sleep in the open air. He never
attempts to sweep out this miserable lair; but when the spot becomes
_very_ filthy, he “takes up his sticks” and shifts his _penates_ to a
fresh “location.” He is generally, however, too indolent to make a
“remove,”—until the dirt has accumulated so as to “be in the way.”
The Pampas Indian is less of a hunter than most other tribes of savages.
He has less need to be,—at least, in modern days; for he is in
possession of three kinds of valuable domestic animals, upon which he
can subsist without hunting,—horses, horned cattle, and sheep. Of
course, these are of colonial origin. He hunts, nevertheless, for
amusement, and to vary his food. The larger ostrich (_rhea Americana_),
the guanaco, and the great “gama” stag of the Pampas (_cervus
campestris_) are his usual game. These he captures with the
_bolas_,—which is his chief implement for the chase. In the flesh of the
stag he may find a variety, but not a delicacy. Its venison would scarce
tempt a Lucullian palate,—since even the hungriest Gaucho will not eat
it. It is a large beast, often weighing above three hundred pounds; and
infecting the air with such a rank odor, that dogs decline to follow it
in the chase. This odor is generated in a pair of glands situated near
the eyes; and it has the power of projecting it at will,—just as skunks
and polecats when closely chased by an enemy. If these glands are cut
out immediately after the animal is killed, the flesh tastes well
enough: otherwise it is too rank to be eatable. The Indians cure it of
the “bad smell” by burying it for several days in the ground; which has
the effect of “sweetening” it, while at the same time it makes it more
tender.
But the Pampas Indian does not rely upon the chase for his subsistence.
He is a small grazier in his way and is usually accompanied in his
wanderings by a herd of horned cattle and sheep. He has also his stud of
horses; which furnish the _staple_ of his food,—for whenever he hungers,
a horse is “slaughtered.” Strictly speaking, it is not a horse; for it
is the mare that is used for this purpose. In no part of the Pampas
region,—not even in the white settlement,—are the mares used for riding.
It would be considered derogatory to the character of either Gaucho or
Indian to mount a mare; and these are kept only for breeding purposes.
Not that the Indian is much of a horse-breeder. He keeps up his stock in
quite another way,—by stealing. The same remark will apply to the mode
by which he recruits his herds of horned cattle, and his flocks of
sheep. The last he values only for their wool; out of which his garments
are woven; and which has replaced the scantier fleece of the vicuña and
guanaco,—the material used by him in days gone by.
From whom does he steal these valuable animals,—and in such numbers as
almost to subsist upon them? That is a question that can be easily
answered; though it is not exact language to say that he steals them.
Rather say that he _takes_ them, by main force and in open
daylight,—takes them from the Creole Spaniard,—the Gaucho and
_estanciero_. Nay, he does not content himself always with four-footed
plunder; but often returns from his forays with a crowd of
captives,—women and children, with white skins and ruddy
cheeks,—afterwards to be converted into his drudges and slaves. Not
alone to the frontier does he extend these plundering expeditions; but
even into the heart of the Spanish settlements,—to the estancias of
grandees, and the gates of fortified towns; and, strange as it may read,
this condition of things has been in existence, not for years, but, at
intervals, extending over a century!
But what may read stranger still—and I can vouch for it as true—is, that
_white men_ actually purchase this plunder from him,—not the human part
of it, but the four-footed and the _furniture_,—for this, too, sometimes
forms part of his booty. Yes, the surplus, of which the Indian can make
no use or cares nothing about,—more especially the large droves of fine
horses, taken from the Spaniards of Buenos Ayres,—are driven through the
passes of the Cordilleras, and sold to the Spaniards of Chili! the
people of one province actually encouraging the robbery of their kindred
race in another! The very same condition of things exists in North
America. The Comanche steals, or rather takes, from the white settler of
Tamaulipas and New Leon,—the Apache rieves from the white settler of
Chihuahua and Sonora: both sell to the white settlers, who dwell along
the banks of the Rio del Norte! And all these settlers are of one
race,—one country,—one kindred! These things have hitherto been styled
_cosas de Mexico_. Their signification may be extended to South America:
since they are equally _cosas de las Pampas_.
We are not permitted to doubt the truth of these appalling
facts,—neither as regards the nefarious traffic, nor the captive women
and children. At this very hour, not less than four thousand individuals
of Spanish-Mexican race are held captives by the prairie tribes; and
when Rosas swept the Pampas, he released fifteen hundred of similar
unfortunates from their worse than Egyptian taskmasters,—the Puelches!
With such facts as these before our eyes, who can doubt the decline of
the Spanish power? the utter enfeeblement of that once noble race? Who
can contradict the hypothetical prophecy—more than once offered in these
pages—that if the two races be left to themselves, the aboriginal,
before the lapse of a single century, will once more recover the soil;
and his haughty victor be swept from the face of the American continent?
Nor need such a change be too keenly regretted. The Spanish occupation
of America has been an utter failure. It has served no high human
purpose, but the contrary. It has only corrupted and encowardiced a once
brave and noble race; and, savage as may be the character of that which
would supplant it, still that savage has within him the elements of a
future civilization.
Not so the Spaniard. The fire of his civilization has blared up with a
high but fitful gleam. It has passed like the lightning’s flash. Its
sparks have fallen and died out,—never to be rekindled again.
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[Illustration]
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THE YAMPARICOS, OR ROOT-DIGGERS.