SANTA CRUZ.
Introduction to Chiefs. -- Orkeke. -- Chilian Deserters. -- The
Settlement. -- Island of Pabon. -- Natural Advantages. -- The
Mission Station. -- Mr. Clarke. -- Our Circle at Pabon. --
Expedition to Lake Viedma. -- Winter Occupations. -- Work and
Play. -- Casimiro's Adventures. -- His Character. -- A Winter
Hunting Excursion. -- A Pampa Snow-storm. -- The Santa Cruz
Valley. -- Up the River. -- The Northern Hills. -- Pumas. --
Devil's Eyes. -- Hunting on Foot. -- Intense Cold. -- Return of
the Deserters. -- Visit to the Indian Camp. -- First Night in a
Toldo. -- Towing a Horse. -- Adieu to Santa Cruz.
Our first business next day was to despatch a messenger to board the
schooner, if she should prove to be still in the mouth of the river. My
Chilian friends had found some of the deserters, who had been taken into
employment, and subsequently detained as close prisoners by the Mayor
Domo, at the instance of a serjeant sent round from Punta Arena in the
schooner, to solicit Don Luiz's assistance in their capture. About noon
Casimiro, soi-disant chief of the Tehuelches, and father of Sam Slick,
rode in from a hunting excursion, mounted on a tall, shapely horse, and
carrying a guanaco on his saddle. I was formally introduced, and my
plans and purpose fully explained to him; and soon after Orkeke, the
cacique of the party of Northern Tehuelches, encamped on the Rio Chico,
arrived. His consent was necessary to enable me to accompany them in
their journey, and by means of Casimiro as an interpreter, as the chief
spoke but little Spanish, my request was preferred. He confirmed the
statement of Mr. Clarke, that his people intended to winter in their
present encampment, and then proceed northwards; but did not seem at all
disposed to welcome the addition of an Englishman to his party, urging
the difficult nature of the road, length of time, chances of fights,
&c., &c. However, I hoped that during the enforced delay opportunities
would arise of improving our acquaintance, and obtaining his consent. I
was much struck with the grave and dignified bearing of the old chief.
Standing fully six feet, and with a well-proportioned muscular frame,
no one would have guessed him to have passed his 60th year; and whether
vaulting on a bare-backed steed, or leading the chase, he displayed an
agility and endurance equal to that of any of the younger men: his thick
black hair was slightly streaked with grey; and the bright intelligent
eyes, aquiline nose, and thin firm lips were very unlike the popular
idea of Patagonian features; a retreating forehead rather marred the
expression of his face, which was, however, grave and thoughtful, and
at times strikingly intellectual. Months passed in his company gave me
afterwards ample opportunity of studying his powers of reflection, which
were great, and often found expression in pithy and amusing sayings.
Although particularly neat in his dress, and cleanly in his habits, he
was troubled, like all the Indians, with vermin; and one night he roused
me up to have a smoke, and after sitting for some time, apparently lost
in deep thought, he remarked, 'Musters, lice never sleep!' He would
sometimes, but rarely, indulge in intoxication, but never quarrelled,
and it was an understood thing that either he or his brother Tankelow
should on occasions of a general drinking bout remain sober to protect
their families. He was himself childless, and had adopted a little
terrier named Ako, which enjoyed the place and honours of an only child;
but he displayed great affection towards his nephews and nieces, some
one or other of whom might often be seen in his arms on a march, or
after the return from the chase. During our first acquaintance I was
most pleased when, as often happened, he joined our little circle, and
in the company of his old friend, Mr. Clarke, unbent from his gravity
and laughed and talked in a way that seemed quite foreign to the usually
serious chief. It must be confessed that he was jealous and suspicious,
and a little stingy, preferring to increase rather than lessen his
large stock of horses, gear, and arms; but from the time I became his
guest his conduct to myself was irreproachable.
In the evening the messenger returned; he had of course completely
mistaken his instructions, and informed Don Luiz that the Englishman
desired to proceed in the schooner to Buenos Ayres, and accordingly a
boat arrived with the morning flood-tide to take me off. Mr. Clarke good
naturedly undertook to go himself and explain matters; and returned with
a kind message, offering me quarters and every hospitality if I chose
to remain in the settlement for the next two months, at the end of
which period the schooner might be expected to return. Lieut. Gallegos
strongly urged me to accompany him back to Punta Arena, painting in
strong colours the tedium and discomfort of a winter at Santa Cruz. But
it was plain that the opportunity of cultivating the acquaintance and
securing the confidence of Orkeke would thus be thrown away, and with it
the prospect of traversing the country. Gallegos believed that this plan
was fraught with danger, and indeed almost certain destruction; but as
I was immovable, we took an affectionate farewell of each other. He
and all his party had treated me, an utter stranger, with the greatest
kindness, and I bade adieu to them as true comrades. They departed on
their return journey, taking with them the four prisoners, who, however,
are destined to appear again in these pages. These men had undergone
much hardship to obtain the liberty of which they seemed again deprived;
three of them had managed to secure a horse, and walking and riding in
turns had found their way to the Indians. Two of them, Olate and Rosa,
the latter, though a mere boy, with a thoroughly evil and murderous
countenance, were incurably bad; but Meña, a youth of nineteen,
attracted one's sympathy by his handsome frank face and cleanly smart
appearance; the fourth, Arica, had made his way on foot from Punta Arena
to Santa Cruz, without any knowledge of the country, and only guided by
a vague notion of the existence of the settlement to the north. He had
for twenty-seven days followed the line of the sea-coast, subsisting on
shell fish and sea-birds' eggs; the toil and hardships thus undergone
must have been indescribable, and his eventual safe arrival was a
miracle of patient endurance. He brought in news of the loss of a tender
to the schooner, a decked launch, in which Captain Warren and three men
had sailed from Staten Land and been no more heard of; of their fate
there was now little doubt, as he had found her dingy cast up on the
beach, and a piece of the mainsail out of which he had supplied himself
with clothes.
The promising _élève_ of the mission, Sam Slick, also accompanied
the party. Before his departure he offered to give a specimen of his
education by singing a hymn, with a broad hint that grog was a fitting
accompaniment; but as none was forthcoming, we lost the chance of being
edified by his performance.
We watched the cavalcade till it disappeared in the distance on the
upper plains, and then returned to the station, where I settled
myself to pass the ensuing three months of the Patagonian winter. The
settlement or trading station of Santa Cruz consists of only three
houses, built on an island called 'Pabon,' marked as Middle Island, in
Islet Reach, in Fitzroy's chart. It is owned by Don Luiz P. Buena, who
holds by virtue of a grant from the Argentine Government, which has also
conferred on him the commission of captain in the navy, with power
to prevent all foreign sealers from trespassing on the valuable seal
fisheries on the coast. The island is about a mile and a half long, and
has an average breadth of some 350 yards. Access is obtained from the
south shore by a ford, about fifty yards across, only passable at low
water. The northern channel is wider and deeper, and the swiftness of
the current renders it impassable save by a boat, which is moored ready
to ferry over Indians desirous of trading, and is also useful for
bringing wood for fuel, which is not obtainable on the island. About a
hundred yards from the ford stands the principal house, substantially
built of bricks, with tiled roof, containing three rooms, and a sort of
porch to shelter a nine-pounder, commanding the entrance. It is further
defended by a stockade, over which floats the Argentine flag, and
beyond it a fosse, which is filled with water by the spring tides. The
object of these fortifications is to afford protection in case of the
Indians proving troublesome when under the influence of rum. Though
Mr. Clarke narrated some queer scenes he had witnessed, his excellent
management had hitherto obviated any danger, and the fairness of his
dealings with them had secured their friendship, a regular tariff with
equitable prices having been fixed, and scrupulously adhered to, by
which their barter of ostrich feathers and peltries was regulated; and
although they are keen bargainers, often spending two or three hours in
debating the price to be given, they appreciated the fairness with which
they were treated. A second house was situated about fifty yards off,
and being generally used as a store, bore the name of the Almacen: at
this time being empty, one room served as a sleeping-place for some
of the men, and the other had been given up for the accommodation of
Casimiro and his family. A third house, which stood at the eastern end
of the island, was unoccupied. Near it a small plot had been tilled, and
potatoes, turnips, and other vegetables had been successfully raised.
At the time of my visit no corn had been tried, but a subsequent
experimental sowing of one and a half fanegas[2] gave a field, though
little pains were bestowed on the crop, of twenty fanegas. As the lower
part of the island is liable to be overflowed at high springs, a ditch
had been cut across to drain off the water, and there was consequently
no lack of irrigation. The ground was covered with stunted bushes, and
the small spike-thorn round thistle, and coarse grass. The few sheep
appeared to thrive well, but decreased very sensibly in number during
the winter, as on days when game was scarce one fell a victim to the
ravenous appetite engendered by the keen air of Patagonia. A numerous
troop of horses grazed on the mainland, in a tract below the Southern
Barranca, called the 'Potrero,' where the grass, though coarse, grew in
rank luxuriance. When wanted for hunting, the entire stud was brought
across the river in the morning and driven into the corral; but
ordinarily one alone was kept on the island ready for emergencies.
[2] A fanega contains 100 lbs.
[Illustration: STATION ON PABON ISLAND, RIO SANTA CRUZ.]
It should be mentioned that a small stock of cattle, and also some pigs,
had been imported; these, however, being necessarily left to graze on
the mainland, had wandered, and become wild; the cattle probably falling
victims to the Indian hunters; but the pigs will no doubt multiply,
and become the founders of a race of hogs, destined hereafter to
add pig-sticking to the amusements of the future settlers or of the
wandering Tehuelches.
Above the island of Pabon there are several smaller islets, but as they
are liable to be overflowed by the highest tides, they cannot, without
artificial drainage, be made available for tillage. From one which had
been occupied and tilled with root-crops, we obtained a quantity of
well-grown turnips. It was a singular mistake of the Spaniards to form a
settlement at Port St. Julian and overlook the far superior advantages
presented by Santa Cruz. The plains and islands of the latter present
good grazing grounds and tillage lands, as well as a site for a town
secure from sudden Indian surprises; and as regards fitness for a
shipping station, there is no comparison between the two localities,
as ships can be beached at Santa Cruz in a sheltered place with the
flood-tide; while the timber, in search of which Viedma made his
expedition, was to be had in abundance by ascending the river. At the
present time the knowledge of the navigation of the Straits would make
it much easier and cheaper to import timber from Punta Arena than to
send lumberers into the Cordillera and raft the timber down to Santa
Cruz.
Near the potrero, on the southern shore, there is a natural salt lake or
salina, which must have been overlooked by the Beagle expedition, as Mr.
Darwin fixes the southern limits of salinas at Port St. Julian. In the
summer, and until the winter rains and snow set in, an inexhaustible
supply of excellent salt can be obtained. It is at present worked only
to furnish, besides the salt for home use, what is required for the
annual sealing fishery; but if labour were more abundant, the salt
would be found to be a valuable article of export to the Falkland
Islands; the salina being situated less than half a mile from the beach,
where there is good anchorage.
The river also yields abundant supplies of fish--a species of bass and
others--which when cured keep well: some which had been cured over
a year proved excellent. These might be profitably exported to Rio
Janeiro, &c., where cured fish are always in demand.
Notwithstanding these natural advantages, Santa Cruz could hardly at
this period be considered a settlement. Subsequently to my visit, two
Frenchmen from Buenos Ayres proposed to try sheep farming in the valley,
but with what result I have not heard. As already mentioned, the station
existed as a depôt for sealing, and as a trading post, to which the
Tehuelches resorted to exchange their ostrich feathers, and puma,
guanaco, and ostrich skins, for tobacco, sugar, ammunition, and above
all, rum. There was little or no trade going on during the absence of
the schooner, as all the stores had been exhausted; but after the summer
campaign some of the Tehuelches invariably resort thither, and the
vicinity has always been a favourite winter quarters. The missionaries,
Messrs. Schmid and Hart, endeavoured to avail themselves of this
opportunity for essaying the conversion and civilisation of the Indians.
They resided for some time in 1863 at a spot near Weddell Bluff,
about ten miles from the mouth of the river. To quote Mr. Sterling's
description, the station was at the mouth of a valley which 'retreats
towards the south-west for a considerable distance inland; a stream of
pure water flows perennially through it, and a broad belt of grass,
offering fine pasture for cattle, gives a cheerful, fertile aspect to
the low land; the hills on either side are intersected with ravines, or
lift up their bronzed faces out of some intervening dale, and refresh
the air with the aroma of shrubs and plants growing everywhere about
them.'
This was written after a visit in the summer month of January, and
the picture drawn presents the landscape in its fairest colours; very
different from its bleak aspect as viewed by myself in the winter. This
valley still bears the name of Los Misionarios, but this is the only
existing trace of their settlement. Mr. Schmid, however, during his
sojourn and journeys with a party of the Indians, compiled a vocabulary
of the Tsoneca language, as spoken by the southern Tehuelches. Their
plan for establishing trade at Santa Cruz, in order to secure the
regular visits of the Indians, was not approved of by the managers
of the mission, and they were obliged to abandon the scene of their
praiseworthy but unsuccessful efforts--to instruct at least 'the little
bright-faced Patagonian children,' of whom they speak in their journals
with warm affection.
The counter attractions of rum supplied by a trader who visited the
river were felt by Mr. Schmid to be very destructive of his influence,
but it cannot be doubted that their store, if established, would have
had no chance against any rival that supplied rum to his customers; for
though there are many exceptions, the Indians too eagerly expend the
spoils of their hunting and industry in liquor. Their wives, however,
when they accompany them, take care to manage their business with
discretion, and reserve sufficient stock to barter for more useful and
innocent luxuries as well as necessaries. There is no doubt that in
the event of the future development of this settlement, it might serve
as a _point d'appui_ to raise the Tehuelches to the level of a more
cultivated and settled mode of existence; but speculations on this point
are not within my province, and it is time to introduce the members
of the party with whom my winter was agreeably spent on the island of
Pabon. With Don Luiz P. Buena and his amiable and accomplished señora
I subsequently made acquaintance, which ripened into friendship; but
though his guest, I was at present personally unknown to him. In his
absence, his representative, Mr. Clarke, who, as already mentioned, was
an old acquaintance, did all he could to make me feel at home. He was a
handsome young fellow of twenty-five, and an excellent specimen of
the versatile and cosmopolitan New Englander, 'raised' in Salem,
Massachusetts, where he had been brought up as a builder, though he
afterwards 'shipped himself on board of a ship.' In his nautical life he
had been mate of the Snow Squall, in a homeward voyage from Shanghai,
when she was chased off the Cape of Good Hope by the Alabama, and but
for the pluck of the captain and crew, and the wonderful sailing powers
of the craft, another item would have been added to Mr. Adams's 'little
bill.' As it was, the beautiful vessel fairly outsailed the swift
steamer. The steadiness of the crew, and their well-deserved attachment
to the captain, were most strongly proved on this occasion. As there was
no alternative between putting in for water at St. Helena--where it was
too probable the Alabama would pounce upon the prize--and running home
upon half a pint per diem each man, the captain left it to the crew to
decide, and they chose the latter course.
Mr. Clarke had spent three months travelling and hunting in company
with the Tehuelches, which had made him a most expert hand with lazo
or bolas, and well acquainted with the Indian character; and it was
pleasant to hear that he entertained a very high opinion of their
intelligence and generous dispositions. He treated them with fairness
and considerate kindness, and they repaid him by confidence and
friendship.
Five other _employés_ made up the rest of our party. No social
distinctions, however, prevailed, and the inhabitants of Pabon lived
in pleasant equality. The charge of the dogs and horses, and the duty
of supplying meat, devolved on two: Gonzalez, a gaucho, a native
of Patagones, who was as much at home in the schooner on a sealing
excursion, as in the saddle balling an ostrich; and Juan Isidoro, a
swarthy little man whose sparkling black eyes told of his Indian blood,
a native of Santiago del Estero; he had been sent as a soldier to
Rio Negro, whence he had managed to desert, and make his way with
Orkeke's Indians to the settlement. Next comes Juan Chileno, a bright,
fresh-complexioned youth of nineteen years, to look at whom was
refreshing, after the swarthy and weather-beaten physiognomies of the
others. Then Antonio, a Portuguese, by turns gaucho, whaler, or sealer,
always ready with a song or a merry jest, and on occasion equally quick
with his knife. Holstein furnished the last, but by no means least
important; a strong-built, good-natured, rather stupid fellow, generally
selected as the butt of the rest, who always styled him 'El Cookè,' a
sobriquet earned by his many voyages in that capacity on board various
ships. Curiously enough he proved to possess information on a topic to
me of great interest, as he had been one of a party which, about a year
previous to my visit, had ascended the river Santa Cruz to its source.
The expedition was organised by an American well acquainted with the
Californian mining, who proposed to explore the mineral resources of the
valley. Unfortunately, during the ascent of the river, a quarrel broke
out, and the American left the others, and found his way alone to the
Indians, thence returning to Santa Cruz. The loss of the only man
capable of scientific observation rendered their journey almost useless;
still the party proceeded, and about midsummer reached the lake, near
which they remained some days, but were unable to penetrate the thick
forests beyond its shores. In the valley they found meat tins and other
traces of Fitzroy's expedition. El Cookè described the river as running
from the lake in many small streams, and flowing over a rocky bed.
The lake, which was covered with wild fowl, had floating ice upon it,
and large glaciers were visible in the neighbouring mountains, while
the weather experienced was cold, with continuous drizzling rain.
His account confirmed my own conjectures as to the cause of the great
difference between the periods of the highest floods in the Rio
Gallegos, which is at its height in December and January, and the Santa
Cruz, which is then at its lowest. This is owing to the lateness of the
period at which the ice breaks up in the lake Viedma, situated, as it
probably is, on a high plateau. About the lake the explorers found
traces of herds of large deer, and always in close proximity those of a
large fox or wolf, but they did not succeed in killing any. A specimen
of the only mineral brought back appeared to be iron pyrites embedded in
quartz. The journey from the lake to the settlement would require eleven
days for baggage horses, but could be performed by horsemen within four.
Of course the information was not too clear or reliable, but El Cookè,
though not brilliant, seemed to possess the Northern quality of telling
the truth, by the absence of which the Southern and Indian natures are,
to say the least of it, often characterised. El Cookè was fond of hard
work, and his greatest enjoyment was to set out in search of fuel, and
lay on with his axe in a way that would have done honour to a Canadian
lumberer, but was sadly thrown away on the incense bushes of Santa Cruz.
All these men, who had drifted together from various quarters, and, if
truth be told, had all 'run,' for obvious reasons, from their own homes,
worked by turns at hunting, trading, sealing, and raising salt from
the Salina. They received a fixed salary, which, however, generally
proved to be balanced by an account with the store for clothes, &c. In
sealing expeditions all went shares, like our own mackerel and herring
fishermen; while for working at the Salina, extra pay was given and well
earned, especially at this time, since it involved sleeping out in the
open for several successive nights, and that in a Patagonian May. Such
were the companions of my residence at Pabon, besides whom more than
a score of dogs of all sorts slept anyhow and anywhere, and followed
anybody, giving their masters the preference.
A short time after our arrival, Mr. Clarke took stock of the stores
of provision, which could not be replenished until the return of the
schooner. The result was that the amount of biscuits and sugar was
found to be about equal to a month's consumption. These articles were
accordingly divided into equal portions, and each man received his
share, to husband or improvidently use, according to his bent. There was
abundance of coffee, black beans, tobacco, and maize, which accordingly
were used at discretion. The next thing was to accumulate a good stock
of fuel before the snow should render it difficult, if not impossible,
to transport it.
Every Sunday all hands except one--the cook of the week--left on guard,
went hunting, and, as occasion required, during the week, the gauchos
would proceed to supply the larder with guanaco or ostrich, the
latter being, however, rare. Idleness was unknown; when not hunting,
wood-cutting, or salt-raising, manufactures were the order of the day.
We picked stones and worked them round for bolas, and covered them
with the hide stripped from the hock of the guanaco, the soga or thong
connecting the balls being made from the skin of the neck, the method
of obtaining it being as follows:--The head having been cut off, and an
incision made just above the shoulder, the skin is dragged off in one
piece; and after the wool has been picked off, is softened by hand and
carefully cut into strips, which are closely plaited. Of this leather we
also made serviceable bridles, lazos, stirrup-leathers, and, in fact,
horse-gear generally. Sometimes we would have a fit of making pipes,
and all hands would be busy sawing out wood or hard at work boring the
bowls; at others, spurs were the rage, made by the simple Indian method
of sticking sharpened nails into two pieces of wood, secured together
by thongs fastened under the foot and round the leg; or again, we would
work silver, and come out with our knife-sheaths glittering with studs.
On non-hunting days, I invariably practised the use of the bolas, and
caught almost every shrub on the island.
The evenings were passed in playing the American game of brag. Cash
being unknown, and no one being disposed to risk the loss of his gear,
the stakes were simply so many black beans to a box of matches; and
as much excitement prevailed as if each bean or perota had been a
five-dollar piece.
Both in our hunting parties and in the house which he had been
allowed to occupy, though he occasionally visited the camp on the
Chico, I sedulously cultivated the acquaintance of Casimiro. Both the
missionaries and Her Majesty's surveyors have made frequent, and often
by no means honourable, mention of this Indian, who has always evinced a
wish to conciliate the friendship of the English visitors to Patagonia.
His history, as I learned it from himself, was a very curious one, and
aptly illustrates the conflicting claims of Chilians and Argentines, and
the confused politics of the Indians themselves, his father having been
killed in an engagement with the Araucanian or Manzaneros Indians. His
mother was a Tehuelche: being an inveterate drunkard, whilst visiting
the settlements of Rio Negro she bartered the child for a cask of rum to
the governor of the fort, a Frenchman named Viba, who was connected
with the slave-trade, for at that period Indians seem to have been made
slaves of as well as blacks. Viba had Casimiro christened--whence his
name Casimiro Viba--and brought up at the Estancia, or sheep-farm, where
he learnt to speak Spanish fluently. When thirteen years old he ran away
and rejoined the Tehuelches Indians, with whom he remained in obscurity
for some years, until being in the Southern district, near the Chilian
colony of Port Famine, he gained the friendship of one Santorin, a
native of Patagones, who had been taken captive by the Indians, but
having adopted their manners and customs, and marrying one of the tribe,
had risen to the position of a chief. Together these two performed
a voyage to Chili, to negotiate with the Government in some matters
regarding the protection of Port Famine from Indian raids. Santorin died
during the voyage, but Casimiro was well received at Santiago by the
then President, Señor Bulnés,[3] loaded with honours, and given the
rank, pay, and rations of captain in the army. He then returned to Port
Famine, where he resided, off and on, for some time. By his own account,
he was absent on a hunting excursion when the _émeute_ took place which
resulted in the destruction of the colony. The old wandering habits
appeared to have taken possession of him, for he subsequently returned
to the Rio Negro, and having entered the service of the Buenos Ayrean
Government, again proceeded to the South. During this time he resided
occasionally with the missionaries, during their journey in the South,
and at their station at Santa Cruz, and entrusted to them his two sons
for the purpose of education. The missionaries soon discovered that his
objects were purely selfish, and that he had no idea of allowing others
to participate in the advantages they could offer; and I am afraid that
the labour and cost bestowed on the boys were thrown away, as neither
of them appeared to have profited much by their chances. Sam, indeed,
could still sing a hymn if there were grog to the fore, and had a lively
recollection of material advantages, often saying, 'He was good man,
give me gun,' &c. But the youngest, 'Graviel,' who also understood
a little English, was one of the laziest of the lazy, and had very
undefined notions as to _meum_ and _tuum_, as personal experience
taught me.
[3] Casimiro gave the name as 'Bourne.'
In 1865 Casimiro made a voyage to Buenos Ayres, where the Government
on this occasion recognised him as head chief of the Tehuelches, and
assigned him the rank and pay of Lieut.-Colonel in the Argentine Army.
He was then despatched, in company with an Argentine named Mendoza, to
form a settlement at Gregorio Bay. They travelled by land as far as
Santa Cruz, at which place Mendoza disappeared, being supposed to have
lost himself, but in reality having been killed by an Indian, jealousy
being, I believe, the cause of the murder. With his right-hand man gone,
Casimiro abandoned himself to drinking, a habit which, as Mr. Cunningham
mentions, he had before acquired--perhaps by hereditary development--and
ultimately became reduced to the state of poverty in which I found him,
owning but two horses for himself, his wife, daughter, and son, with
hardly any gear. Indeed, he would have been reduced to great straits but
for the kindness of Don Luiz and Mr. Clarke, who, for old acquaintance
sake, helped him as much as possible; though his habitual drunkenness
made it useless to give him anything valuable whilst there was liquor to
be had, as he would exchange anything for drink. As it was my object to
have a friend in camp, I made friends with him, and tried to induce him
to go north to the Rio Negro, which he at length agreed to do, although
he was in great fear of getting into trouble about the loss or death of
Mendoza. This man when sober was quick and intelligent, and a shrewd
politician. His extensive connections by marriage with all the chiefs,
including Rouke and Calficura, gave him considerable influence. He was
also an expert worker in various Indian arts, such as making saddles,
pipes, spurs, lazos, and other gear. He was a powerfully built man,
standing fully six feet in his potro boots, with a not unpleasing
expression of face, although he had a scar or two which did not add
to his beauty. Of his personal bravery ample proof will afterwards be
given; but, like all drunkards, he was uncertain and not to be depended
on. This veritable old Blue Beard informed me that he had been married
six times; certainly, if all his wives were of the appearance and
disposition of his last venture, it is not to be wondered at if he
disposed of the former ones; for an uglier, dirtier, more contumacious
old hag never burdened the earth with her weight, owing probably to
which latter quality, or quantity, she never, if she could possibly help
it, quitted her room. Early in June an Indian, known in Santa Cruz as El
Sourdo, or the left-handed man, came across the river and pitched his
toldo on the island. He was the husband of two wives, who lived together
in perfect felicity and took care of one another's children. This Indian
was, as most of them are, very ingenious in working wood and silver, and
was a good addition to our hunting parties; he also quickly learned to
play at brag. Casimiro would never descend from his lofty pinnacle of
self-importance so far as to enter the kitchen when the general revels
were held, but occasionally joined Mr. Clarke and myself at supper and
sat telling stories for an hour or two.
* * * * *
The sketch of our life at Pabon would be very incomplete without asking
the reader to accompany us on a hunting excursion; so I will describe
one which took place after El Sourdo had arrived on the island. Game had
become very scarce in our immediate vicinity, and our only farinaceous
food was black beans varied by maize, which was too troublesome in the
preparation to be much used. The meat went wonderfully quickly, so we
determined to extend the sphere of the hunting a little more a-field.
Accordingly, one fine frosty morning at daylight, the horses were
brought up, caught, and saddled; mantles and spurs donned, and eight of
us, including the two Indians, Casimiro and El Sourdo, set off to make a
circle, i.e. enclose and drive an area of land on the southern shore of
the river, finishing at the Missionaries' Valley. Casimiro and Gonzalez
accordingly started, and the remainder followed in turn. During our
drive down, one guanaco was captured by El Sourdo and Isidoro, and on
our arrival near the valley of Los Misionarios I chased a guanaco, but,
being without dogs and a tyro with the bolas, failed to capture him.
However, on rejoining my companions, who had now finished the circle,
I found that they had only killed one ostrich, which, through the
carelessness of some of the party, the dogs had mauled to such an extent
as to render the greater part of the meat unserviceable. The day had
been unusually warm, without any wind. Though a bank of white clouds on
the horizon seemed to threaten snow, it was agreed to camp out and try
our chance of getting a good supply of meat on the following day; so we
proceeded to a sheltered place in the valley, and bivouacked under the
lee of a big incense bush, while the horses were turned loose, and a
fire was made, on which the remains of the ostrich were soon cooking
under the master hand of Casimiro. After supper, which was rather
stinted in quantity, we smoked a pipe and lay down to sleep. About three
I woke up, feeling, as I thought, a heavy weight pressing on my mantle,
and found that above two inches of snow had fallen and that it was still
snowing. At daylight it came on to rain, but quickly changed to snow
again; so we made a fire and waited for an hour to see if the weather
would clear. At last, on a gleam of sickly sunshine appearing, we
proceeded to arrange the circle, Casimiro starting first. Emerging from
the valley and ascending to the high pampa, we met a terrific gale of
wind from the south, driving before it small snow in freezing blasts;
but two ostriches jumped up from behind a bush, and Mr. Clarke balled
one of them with great dexterity. This was very cheering, as we were all
very hungry. But, as it was impossible to face the driving sleet and
wind, which prevented us from seeing ten yards before us, we adjourned
to the valley, leaving Casimiro, who was not visible, to his own
pursuits. Suddenly El Sourdo discovered smoke behind a clump of trees,
and, to our great delight, there was our friend before a good fire,
nicely sheltered from snow and wind, within an arbour neatly cut out
of a bush. We adjourned to the fire and had breakfast; invigorated by
which, and encouraged by a lull in the storm, we started off to renew
the chase, but soon got separated by the thick snow-storm. Mr. Clarke,
El Sourdo, Gonzalez, and myself, who were together, came close upon a
herd of guanaco, making for the coast to escape the gale. The dogs gave
chase and killed some, others were balled; in fact a regular slaughter
took place, and eight or ten carcases were soon lying on the plain. Now
came the tedious job of cutting up. I found myself standing alone by a
dead guanaco, none of the others being visible, though not fifty yards
distant. I proceeded as best I could to arrange the meat, and was about
half through the task, with fingers nearly frozen, when I discovered Mr.
Clarke and El Sourdo, and shortly after it cleared up, and the remainder
of our party, all loaded with meat, arrived. Thus supplied, we turned
our faces homewards, and arrived at Santa Cruz a little before sundown,
where a steaming kettle of coffee soon dispelled our cold and put us
into good spirits.
Mr. Darwin and Admiral Fitzroy have thoroughly described the
configuration of the Valley of Santa Cruz and its surroundings, so
that a lengthened attempt to portray it is not necessary. I would
particularly refer the reader to the accurate and picturesque
description by the former of the bench formation which causes the
western part of the environs of the river to present the appearance of
the shores of former successive estuaries--of a vast river or fiord.
Near the settlement the ascent of the Southern Barranca immediately
leads to a level plain extending for the space of a couple of miles;
then there is another rise of perhaps fifty feet, and another plain,
which extends for about the space of a league to a range of successive
ridges, which we called the Blue Hills from their peculiar appearance on
clear days. These, eastwards, lose their elevations, and merge into the
undulations of the high Pampa and a rolling cheerless waste of stones,
coarse grass, and incense bushes; its uneven surface often traversed by
ravines running in various directions. Amongst these hills there is a
large lagoon which Casimiro informed me he used to visit whilst residing
with the missionaries for the purpose of procuring wild fowl, of which
there were then great numbers, but they had latterly given up this
resort. There are other lagoons scattered at intervals in the
before-mentioned plains, which, during the winter, were frozen, and
the beautifully smooth ice often caused Mr. Clarke and myself to long
for a pair of skates; indeed, we tried to manufacture a pair, but
without success.
Towards the sea coast from the Blue Hills the slope appears gradual,
until nearing the coast, when the plain is intersected by gullies and
deep fertile valleys, which render hunting very tedious work, as it is
necessary to trust almost entirely to the dogs. Game abounds in this
direction, especially during the winter. We made numerous excursions up
river, generally staying away from the settlement three or four days,
our favourite rendezvous being a place about sixty miles distant, called
'Chickrookaik,' marked by Fitzroy as an Indian Ford or Pass of the river
Santa Cruz, which statement both El Sourdo and Casimiro confirmed. At
this point the river narrows considerably, and on the south side there
are steep cliffs almost overhanging the water, a cave in which cliffs
was always a sure find for a puma. Both above and below this point are
large wide plains extending from the 'banks' or cliffs to the river,
which may easily be encircled; and the game being hemmed in between the
horsemen and the river are readily captured. Sometimes the ostriches
take to the water, but in the winter this saves trouble, as their legs
get frozen, and on landing they are unable to move. We made an excursion
on one occasion some miles higher up the river, and found abundance of
game. We had previously on our road had good luck, but, as is often the
custom, left the slain animals concealed in bushes, with a poncho or
something over them. During the interval of our absence severe weather
set in, and on returning to examine our _caches_ the foxes and birds
of prey had accounted for the meat. The foxes are a great trouble to
the hunters, as, frequently, whilst they are encircling the herds of
guanaco, and taking the greatest care to keep out of sight, one of these
brutes will jump up, the dogs give chase, and then good-bye to all
chance of sport. Fitzroy remarked the number of guanaco bones found in
his ascent of the river Santa Cruz, which appear to have puzzled him,
but the cause is not far to seek. During the very severe winters which
occur I believe about once in three years, these animals, finding no
pasture on the high lands, which are covered with snow, are necessarily
driven down to the plains fringing the river, where they die from
starvation. There is also a disease prevalent amongst them something
similar to scab in sheep. On one occasion a hunting party killed ten
guanacos, all of which were scabby, or, as we called it, 'sanoso;' and,
consequently, unfit for food. Mr. Clarke told me that after one severe
winter he found ostriches lying in heaps, dead under the bushes, and
also guanacos. The difficulty of getting the horses across the swift and
deep stream, with its banks encumbered by ice, prevented us from making
frequent excursions to the northern side of the river. A level plain
extends from the banks for about a mile, bounded by a chain of irregular
hills; near the foot of these I picked up many specimens of a spiral
shell, apparently a Turritella, which appeared to have been vitrified;
and some were as translucent as glass, and of different colours. Beyond
these hills rolled a succession of uneven plains diversified by ridges
and hills; the general slope of the ground being apparently from west to
east, and the hills towards the west often assumed the form of abrupt
lofty cliffs. Near a laguna at the foot of a cliff a hundred feet high
I found boulders incrusted with sulphate of iron, such as had been
pointed out to me in the Falklands, and numerous oyster shells and other
marine shells occurred in various localities. There are no streams, but
frequent lagoons in the hollows, and surrounded by a luxuriant growth of
incense bushes. The unbroken plains abound in round thistle, califate,
and the curious shrub called 'ratstail,' from the appearance of its
twigs when the thick bark is pulled off. When burned it emits a dense
black resinous smoke. To the north the horizon is bounded by a lofty
range of hills which form the barrier of the valley of the Rio Chico,
about sixty miles distant. These northern hills abounded with puma, some
of which, killed in our hunts, were of unusual size, measuring fully six
feet exclusive of the tail, which is generally half the length of the
body. They are, of course, most numerous where the herds of guanaco and
the ostriches abound; in the southern part of Patagonia their colour is
more of a greyish-brown than that of the species found in the Argentine
Provinces. These 'Leones,' as they are universally called in South
America, always appeared to me to be the most cat-like of all the
felidæ. They are very timid, always running from a man on horseback,
and, by day at least, from a pedestrian; they run for a short distance
in a series of long bounds, at great speed, but soon tire and stand at
bay behind or in the midst of a bush, and sitting upon their haunches,
spit and swear just like a monstrous tabby; sometimes endeavouring
to scratch with their formidable claws, but rarely springing at the
pursuer. Mr. Clarke on one occasion had his mantle torn off in this
manner. At another time, when hunting in the vicinity of Santa Cruz,
I observed from a distance Gonzalez hacking with his knife at a big
incense bush, and, on reaching the spot, found him occupied in clearing
away branches to allow him to knock a huge puma on the head with his
bolas. He was dismounted and attended by his dogs, which bayed the
animal. Still, had the puma not been a cur, he could doubtless have
sprung out and killed or severely wounded the gaucho. The Indians affirm
that the puma will attack a single man alone and on foot, and, indeed,
subsequently, an example of this came under my notice; however, if a
person should be benighted or lost, he has only to take the precaution
of lighting a fire, which these animals will never approach. They are
most savage in the early part of the spring or breeding season, when,
according to my experience, they are found roaming over the country in
an unsettled manner; they are then also thinner than at other times,
but, like the wild horse, they are generally pretty fat at all times of
the year. The females I saw were sometimes accompanied by two cubs, but
never more. The meat of the puma resembles pork, and is good eating,
though better boiled than roasted, but one or two Indians of my
acquaintance would not touch the meat. The hide is useful either for
saddle-cloths or to make mantles of; and owing to its greasy nature it
can be softened with less trouble than that of the guanaco. In Santa
Cruz one of the men had a pair of trousers made of lion's skin, which
worn with the hair side out was impervious to wet. From the hock and
lower part of the hind legs boots may be constructed similar to those
made from horse hide, and in common use amongst the Indians and also
the gauchos of Plata. These, however, are only made from pumas of large
size, and they wear out very quickly. To kill a puma with a gun is
rather a difficult matter, as, unless the ball enters his skull, or
strikes near the region of the heart, he has as many lives as his
relation the cat. I once put three revolver bullets into one, and
ultimately had recourse to the bolas as a more effective weapon. When
wounded they become very savage, but they are at all times bad customers
for dogs, which they maul in a shocking manner. The Indian dogs are
trained to stand off and bay them, keeping out of range of the claws;
nevertheless they not unfrequently get killed. Perhaps the simplest way
of taking the pumas is to throw a lazo over them, as directly they feel
the noose they lie down as if dead, and are easily despatched. I was
particularly struck, as are all hunters, with their eyes, large, brown,
and beautifully bright, but with a fierce glare that does not appeal to
any feelings of compassion. I shall never forget the expression in
the eyes of one puma, best described by the remark made by one of the
Indians as he reined back his horse, expecting a spring: 'Mira los ojos
del diablo!' ('Look, what devil's eyes!')
One expedition on the northern shore was long remembered and talked of
over the fire; and, indeed, might easily have had a very disastrous
conclusion.
Towards the latter end of July I proposed to Mr. Clarke that we should
proceed on foot, and investigate more closely the bed of fossil shells
mentioned as situated on the hills about a mile from the north bank of
the river. Accordingly, one morning we prepared to cross the river,
and the remainder of the men, hearing of our intentions, volunteered,
together with El Sourdo, to accompany us, and, after having visited the
hills, to organise a hunting circle on foot: we started about sunrise
and crossed the river to the north side, where we secured the boat above
high-water mark; we then all proceeded to the hills, investigated the
beds of fossil shells, and gathered many beautiful specimens. The hunt
was then formed, so many dogs being apportioned to each person, and
the circle being directed to close on a point on the bank of the river
about three or four miles west of the settlement. The ground was very
favourable for our operations, as the dips, or slightly-depressed
valleys, hid us from the view of the game. On emerging on the plain at
different points we saw several guanacos and some ostriches; and those
nearest them slipped their hounds, following on foot at their topmost
speed. Mr. Clarke, Isidoro, El Sourdo, and myself were in the centre,
and killed amongst us two guanacos and an ostrich. Antonio, who was
pointsman, disappeared to the westward with El Cookè, following their
dogs in full chase of a herd of guanacos. Our party lit a fire, ate the
ostrich, and conveyed what meat we thought advisable to take back with
us towards the boat, following the river bank, which was strewn in
many places with cornelians and flint-agates, and occasionally with
fossilised shells. On our arrival at the boat we launched her down the
beach, and, as the wind had by this time risen to a severe gale and the
tide was rapidly ebbing, watched anxiously for the return of the two
defaulters; for the navigation of the river is at no time very easy,
and when the tide is low, even in daylight, nearly impracticable. At
length, after dark, when the squalls of bitterly-cold wind had become
very violent, we saw fires in the distance, and, almost half an hour
afterwards, our missing men appeared, each with a load of meat on his
shoulders. They arrived considerably exhausted, so we gave them a rest,
and then dogs and all got into the boat and we shoved off, Mr. Clarke
steering. We proceeded all right for a few yards, and then stuck on a
bank; after several ineffectual efforts to shove the boat off, we all
jumped into the water and fairly hove her over the bank until the water
was up nearly to our shoulders, and then got in and pulled across. Owing
to the violence of the wind and the strength of the current, we only
succeeded in landing fully three-quarters of a mile from the house;
here we secured the boat, and ran up as fast as we could to get our
now frozen clothes off and a drink of hot coffee. We all agreed that
on another expedition it would be advisable either to encamp on the
northern shore until daylight, or come back early enough to be able
to get across while it was possible to see the banks. But the general
conclusion was, not to go again at all.
The weather in July was intensely cold, the lowest reading of the
thermometer, which was duly examined every morning, being 8°. Washing
our clothes became impossible, as during the process the water froze
and the garments became stiff as boards. When crossing the ford, if the
potro boots of the rider happened, as was not unfrequently the case, to
get filled with water, in a few minutes not only were the boots coated
with ice, but the inside resembled an ice-pail. The effect of the river
ice piled up on the shore by the tides was very striking. Huge floes
had accumulated to the height of fifteen feet and upwards, and, besides
rendering the passage difficult, had buried the carefully-stacked
wood-pile under a small mountain of ice. This was in the comparatively
sheltered valley. On the Pampas, when the fierce south wind blew, as
it almost invariably did, it seemed impossible to face it and live.
One attempt made nearly resulted in Gonzalez being overcome by the
sleep which is a forerunner of death, and the horses of all the party
absolutely could not advance. The snow lay eighteen inches deep, and we
had flattered ourselves that the guanaco and ostrich would prove an easy
prey. _They_ could not run--but _we_ could not chase, and were thankful
to make our way, slowly and laboriously, down from the desolate and
storm-swept Pampas.
The Indians from the Rio Chico occasionally visited us, and Orkeke's
objections to my company were gradually giving way. He had probably
feared that an English Señor would require a considerable amount of
attention, and give constant trouble; but during our intercourse he
found that the stranger could (and did) groom his own horse, and wait
on himself generally, as well as take his part in whatever was being
done, even to sleeping out with no shelter but the ample guanaco mantle.
Casimiro also, according to promise, visited the camp, and argued in my
favour, finally obtaining from the chief a somewhat reluctant permission
for me to join his party. Towards the end of July some of his Indians
had come to the settlement to inform us that the scarcity of game in
their vicinity had compelled them to shift their quarters to a place
higher up the Rio Chico. They anxiously enquired if the schooner had
arrived; we were as eagerly looking for her, but day after day passed,
and the looked-for boat did not appear.
On the 24th of July everybody had gone hunting, except Juan Chileno (who
was cook for the week), and myself, whom a hurt received in my foot
had compelled to remain quiet. I was employed reading a book, 'Charles
Dashwood,' for perhaps the twentieth time, when Juan came in to say that
the hunting party had returned. As it was only ten o'clock, my first
idea was that the schooner had arrived with Don Luiz. However, this was
dispelled by Juan, who had gone out to reconnoitre, rushing in with the
news that ten Chilians had arrived on the south side with twenty-one
horses. Shortly afterwards Mr. Clarke himself came in and corroborated
the intelligence. These men proved to be deserters, who had escaped by
night from Punta Arena, taking with them nearly all the horses in the
corral. They had left on the 2nd of July at 2 A.M. Four of the number
were those previously recaptured in Santa Cruz, who had been kept in
irons and closely confined at night; but by a supreme effort they had
broken their chains, and, together with the others who had everything
arranged outside the cuartel, had effected their escape. The sufferings
these men must have undergone during the twenty-two days' journey over
the Pampas, exposed without shelter to the fierce winds, and sometimes
with the snow up to their horses' girths, must have been something
frightful, and many of them were frost bitten. It was out of the
question for us to receive them, as our own supplies were failing, and
in truth we congratulated ourselves on the horses being secured in the
corral, and anxiously watched the movements of the new comers. The party
during the afternoon succeeded in crossing the river to the north side,
swimming their horses; and disappeared in the direction of the Rio
Chico.
By this time even the kind companionship of Mr. Clarke failed to
reconcile me to the tedious monotony of our life. The game also became
scarcer and scarcer, and the chance of the schooner's coming appeared so
indefinite, that at the beginning of August I began to think it would
be better and more amusing to migrate to the Indian camp, where, at any
rate, plenty of meat was procurable. Accordingly, when the Indians came
over again on a visit on the 7th of August, I bought a horse, or rather
changed away a revolver for one (a three year old, newly broken), and
started in company with Orkeke, Campan, Cayuke, and Tankelow, four
Indians, all of whom were previous acquaintances. Casimiro followed with
his family, taking one of the horses from Santa Cruz to assist in the
transport of his household. This horse was one I had been accustomed to
ride in Santa Cruz, and on arriving at the Indian camp was lent me as
a second horse. Shortly after passing the first hills on the northern
side, our party not being burdened with women and children, started off
at a hand canter, which was kept up until a puma suddenly sprang out of
a bush, when chase was immediately given; he, however, got into a thick
tangle of incense bushes, from which we tried in vain to dislodge him,
and although pelted with stones he lay there spitting like a great cat.
Cayuke wished to fire the bush, but Orkeke would not waste time, so we
mounted and proceeded on our journey. We continued riding over plains
and ridges until about 4 P.M., when we reached a large laguna, close to
which grew some high coarse grass and shrubs; here several ostriches
were started, and one killed by Orkeke. On reaching the range of hills
before described as the southern barrier of the valley of the Rio Chico,
we halted, and shortly had the ostrich cooking on a good fire. We looked
back for Casimiro, but could not see him, so after supper and a smoke
pursued our journey by the soft light of a young moon. As I pointed
it out to my companions they all saluted it by putting their hands to
their heads, at the same time muttering some unintelligible words. This
reminded me of the English custom of turning money at first seeing the
new moon. We rode on until about 9 P.M., when we reached the Indian
encampment. We had been previously puzzled by seeing fires burning a
considerable distance up the valley, and found that our chief, Camillo,
had already marched in that direction. One of the first persons who
accosted me was Arica, and I shortly discovered that all the Chilians
were installed with the Indians in different toldos, which was rather
an unpleasant surprise. I was ushered into Orkeke's toldo with due
ceremony, and we took our seats by the fire. I had brought a bag of
coffee with me, so we set to work and roasted some, after which one of
the Chilians was given the task of pounding it between stones, and we
all drank what the Indians not inappropriately term 'potwater.' Many
Indians crowded in to have a look at us, and amongst others that I
noticed was a remarkably pretty little girl of about thirteen years of
age, a niece of Orkeke's, who took some coffee when offered in a shy
and bashful manner which was delightful to contemplate. In due time we
all retired to rest, and a little before daylight I was woke up by the
melodious singing of an Indian in the next toldo. Shortly afterwards
Orkeke went out and harangued the inmates of the remaining toldos, and
presently the horses were brought up, and most of the men started for
the chase. Snow had fallen during the night, a biting cold wind was
blowing, and Orkeke told me there were very few animals about. I
took this as a hint not to ask for a horse, so contented myself with
sauntering round and examining the encampment. Some of the men were
playing cards, one or two sleeping, whilst the women were almost
universally employed in sewing guanaco mantles. About 3 P.M. Casimiro
arrived with his family, and proceeded to the tent of a southern Indian,
named Crimè, and shortly afterwards the hunting party returned by twos
and threes, but the chase had not been attended with much success. We
passed the evening pleasantly enough, making acquaintance with each
other, and Keoken, the little girl, instructed me in the Indian names of
the various objects about the place. Next morning the order was suddenly
given to march. As this was totally unexpected, and I was not prepared
for departure, I made up my mind to return at once to Santa Cruz, and
fetch my clothes and other small articles; also to take back a colt,
promised by an Indian called 'Tchang' to Mr. Clarke. After some little
difficulty, as the Indians did not wish me to go alone for fear of
getting lost, or any other mischance befalling me, Graviel, the youngest
son of Casimiro, started with me. We had to take the colt, what a sailor
would term, in tow, that is, drag it for some distance with a lazo. As
Graviel's horse was shy, this work fell to my share. Shortly after the
start, rain, or rather sleet, came on, and the contrariness of the brute
at the end of the lazo claiming all my attention, I could not manage to
keep my mantle tight round my shoulders, and getting thoroughly wet, and
losing one of my knives, cursed Tchang, colt and all, freely. After a
short time, however, when well out of sight of the Indians, I cast off
the towing line, and we drove our 'bête noire' before us. We returned by
a different route to the one travelled on the outward journey, guided
a good deal by my pocket compass. Towards nightfall, deceived by the
appearance of a hill, I flattered myself that we were near Santa Cruz.
But, alas! it was still miles away, and we got into fresh difficulties
with our charge, which, being tired, absolutely refused to go down the
hill, and had to be taken 'in tow' again and dragged along, and it must
have been nine or ten before we reached the banks of the river. Here,
after unsaddling our horses, we vainly attempted to kindle a fire, but
everything, like ourselves, was so saturated with snow and wet that
all attempts were fruitless; so, fairly tired out, and without fire or
supper, we laid down under a bush, and, ensconced under our mantles,
were soon in the land of dreams.
Next morning Graviel acted like a dutiful boy for once in his life, and
left in search of the horses. Meanwhile the boat came over, and I was
anxious to expedite matters; so, after splashing barefooted through
several yards of sharp-edged ice on my way to the boat, which had
grounded some distance from the shore, I got over to the island, where
I was not sorry to get something to eat and a fire to warm my frozen
limbs. I packed up my few things, ready for a start later on; but when
the flood-tide made, a heavy gale of wind sprang up, and it was with
great difficulty that the boat could bring over Graviel and the colt.
The cheerful news also awaited me that my horse was missing, and that
Graviel and El Cookè had seen a large puma on the river bank, which had
probably watched in close proximity to us whilst sleeping the night
before. Owing to the gale, it was impossible to cross that evening, so
we made up our minds to stop and sleep on the island.
Next day, my horse not appearing, Mr. Clarke lent me one, sending
Isidoro to bring the horse back, in the event of our not meeting with
the missing steed. About 4 P.M. I bid adieu to my friend, whose kindness
during my stay had proved him a friend indeed. Having shaken hands with
the remainder of the boys, who one and all heartily wished me luck, we
started; and after vainly searching for the missing horse, rode on till
about 10 P.M., when we halted and bivouacked by the side of a laguna.
Next morning early we arrived at the Rio Chico, which we crossed on the
ice, and about 2 P.M. reached the toldos. The men were away hunting, the
smoke of their fires being visible, rising from the higher plains to the
northward. As we had eaten nothing since our supper the night before,
which was furnished by a small skunk (which, though very palatable, was
unfortunately very thin), we were in urgent need of something to eat,
and Arica hastened to cook some guanaco meat on the asador or iron spit.
When the hunters arrived, Orkeke gruffly asked Isidoro what he had
come for, and seemed, naturally enough, the reverse of pleased at the
information of the loss of his horse; and, altogether, the old chief's
behaviour did not seem auspicious; but, without appearing to notice it,
I made myself at home in the toldo, and took up my quarters as one of
the family.