Monte Video—Maldonado—Excursion to R. Polanco—Lazo and
Bolas—Partridges—Absence of Trees—Deer—Capybara, or River
Hog—Tucutuco—Molothrus, cuckoo-like
habits—Tyrant-flycatcher—Mocking-bird—Carrion Hawks—Tubes formed by
Lightning—House struck.
MALDONADO
_July_ 5_th_, 1832.—In the morning we got under way, and stood out of
the splendid harbour of Rio de Janeiro. In our passage to the Plata, we
saw nothing particular, excepting on one day a great shoal of
porpoises, many hundreds in number. The whole sea was in places
furrowed by them; and a most extraordinary spectacle was presented, as
hundreds, proceeding together by jumps, in which their whole bodies
were exposed, thus cut the water. When the ship was running nine knots
an hour, these animals could cross and recross the bows with the
greatest ease, and then dash away right ahead. As soon as we entered
the estuary of the Plata, the weather was very unsettled. One dark
night we were surrounded by numerous seals and penguins, which made
such strange noises, that the officer on watch reported he could hear
the cattle bellowing on shore. On a second night we witnessed a
splendid scene of natural fireworks; the mast-head and yard-arm ends
shone with St. Elmo’s light; and the form of the vane could almost be
traced, as if it had been rubbed with phosphorus. The sea was so highly
luminous, that the tracks of the penguins were marked by a fiery wake,
and the darkness of the sky was momentarily illuminated by the most
vivid lightning.
When within the mouth of the river, I was interested by observing how
slowly the waters of the sea and river mixed. The latter, muddy and
discoloured, from its less specific gravity, floated on the surface of
the salt water. This was curiously exhibited in the wake of the vessel,
where a line of blue water was seen mingling in little eddies with the
adjoining fluid.
_July_ 26_th_, 1832.—We anchored at Monte Video. The _Beagle_ was
employed in surveying the extreme southern and eastern coasts of
America, south of the Plata, during the two succeeding years. To
prevent useless repetitions, I will extract those parts of my journal
which refer to the same districts, without always attending to the
order in which we visited them.
MALDONADO is situated on the northern bank of the Plata, and not very
far from the mouth of the estuary. It is a most quiet, forlorn, little
town; built, as is universally the case in these countries, with the
streets running at right angles to each other, and having in the middle
a large plaza or square, which, from its size, renders the scantiness
of the population more evident. It possesses scarcely any trade; the
exports being confined to a few hides and living cattle. The
inhabitants are chiefly landowners, together with a few shopkeepers and
the necessary tradesmen, such as blacksmiths and carpenters, who do
nearly all the business for a circuit of fifty miles round. The town is
separated from the river by a band of sand-hillocks, about a mile
broad: it is surrounded on all other sides by an
open slightly-undulating country, covered by one uniform layer of fine
green turf, on which countless herds of cattle, sheep, and horses
graze. There is very little land cultivated even close to the town. A
few hedges made of cacti and agave mark out where some wheat or Indian
corn has been planted. The features of the country are very similar
along the whole northern bank of the Plata. The only difference is,
that here the granitic hills are a little bolder. The scenery is very
uninteresting; there is scarcely a house, an enclosed piece of ground,
or even a tree, to give it an air of cheerfulness. Yet, after being
imprisoned for some time in a ship, there is a charm in the unconfined
feeling of walking over boundless plains of turf. Moreover, if your
view is limited to a small space, many objects possess beauty. Some of
the smaller birds are brilliantly coloured; and the bright green sward,
browsed short by the cattle, is ornamented by dwarf flowers, among
which a plant, looking like the daisy, claimed the place of an old
friend. What would a florist say to whole tracts, so thickly covered by
the Verbena melindres, as, even at a distance, to appear of the most
gaudy scarlet?
I stayed ten weeks at Maldonado, in which time a nearly perfect
collection of the animals, birds, and reptiles, was procured. Before
making any observations respecting them, I will give an account of a
little excursion I made as far as the river Polanco, which is about
seventy miles distant, in a northerly direction. I may mention, as a
proof how cheap everything is in this country, that I paid only two
dollars a day or eight shillings, for two men, together with a troop of
about a dozen riding-horses. My companions were well armed with pistols
and sabres; a precaution which I thought rather unnecessary; but the
first piece of news we heard was, that, the day before, a traveller
from Monte Video had been found dead on the road, with his throat cut.
This happened close to a cross, the record of a former murder.
On the first night we slept at a retired little country-house; and
there I soon found out that I possessed two or three articles,
especially a pocket compass, which created unbounded astonishment. In
every house I was asked to show the compass, and by its aid, together
with a map, to point out the direction
of various places. It excited the liveliest admiration that I, a
perfect stranger, should know the road (for direction and road are
synonymous in this open country) to places where I had never been. At
one house a young woman who was ill in bed, sent to entreat me to come
and show her the compass. If their surprise was great, mine was
greater, to find such ignorance among people who possessed their
thousands of cattle, and “estancias” of great extent. It can only be
accounted for by the circumstance that this retired part of the country
is seldom visited by foreigners. I was asked whether the earth or sun
moved; whether it was hotter or colder to the north; where Spain was,
and many other such questions. The greater number of the inhabitants
had an indistinct idea that England, London, and North America, were
different names for the same place; but the better informed well knew
that London and North America were separate countries close together,
and that England was a large town in London! I carried with me some
promethean matches, which I ignited by biting; it was thought so
wonderful that a man should strike fire with his teeth, that it was
usual to collect the whole family to see it: I was once offered a
dollar for a single one. Washing my face in the morning caused much
speculation at the village of Las Minas; a superior tradesman closely
cross-questioned me about so singular a practice; and likewise why on
board we wore our beards; for he had heard from my guide that we did
so. He eyed me with much suspicion; perhaps he had heard of ablutions
in the Mahomedan religion, and knowing me to be a heretic, probably he
came to the conclusion that all heretics were Turks. It is the general
custom in this country to ask for a night’s lodging at the first
convenient house. The astonishment at the compass, and my other feats
of jugglery, was to a certain degree advantageous, as with that, and
the long stories my guides told of my breaking stones, knowing venomous
from harmless snakes, collecting insects, etc., I repaid them for their
hospitality. I am writing as if I had been among the inhabitants of
Central Africa: Banda Oriental would not be flattered by the
comparison; but such were my feelings at the time.
The next day we rode to the village of Las Minas. The country was
rather more hilly, but otherwise continued the
same; an inhabitant of the Pampas no doubt would have considered it as
truly alpine. The country is so thinly inhabited, that during the whole
day we scarcely met a single person. Las Minas is much smaller even
than Maldonado. It is seated on a little plain, and is surrounded by
low rocky mountains. It is of the usual symmetrical form, and with its
whitewashed church standing in the centre, had rather a pretty
appearance. The outskirting houses rose out of the plain like isolated
beings, without the accompaniment of gardens or courtyards. This is
generally the case in the country, and all the houses have, in
consequence, an uncomfortable aspect. At night we stopped at a
pulperia, or drinking-shop. During the evening a great number of
Gauchos came in to drink spirits and smoke cigars: their appearance is
very striking; they are generally tall and handsome, but with a proud
and dissolute expression of countenance. They frequently wear their
moustaches, and long black hair curling down their backs. With their
brightly coloured garments, great spurs clanking about their heels, and
knives stuck as daggers (and often so used) at their waists, they look
a very different race of men from what might be expected from their
name of Gauchos, or simple countrymen. Their politeness is excessive;
they never drink their spirits without expecting you to taste it; but
whilst making their exceedingly graceful bow, they seem quite as ready,
if occasion offered, to cut your throat.
On the third day we pursued rather an irregular course, as I was
employed in examining some beds of marble. On the fine plains of turf
we saw many ostriches (Struthio rhea). Some of the flocks contained as
many as twenty or thirty birds. These, when standing on any little
eminence, and seen against the clear sky, presented a very noble
appearance. I never met with such tame ostriches in any other part of
the country: it was easy to gallop up within a short distance of them;
but then, expanding their wings, they made all sail right before the
wind, and soon left the horse astern.
At night we came to the house of Don Juan Fuentes, a rich landed
proprietor, but not personally known to either of my companions. On
approaching the house of a stranger, it is usual to follow several
little points of etiquette: riding up slowly to the door, the
salutation of Ave Maria is given, and
until somebody comes out and asks you to alight, it is not customary
even to get off your horse: the formal answer of the owner is, “sin
pecado concebida”—that is, conceived without sin. Having entered the
house, some general conversation is kept up for a few minutes, till
permission is asked to pass the night there. This is granted as a
matter of course. The stranger then takes his meals with the family,
and a room is assigned him, where with the horsecloths belonging to his
recado (or saddle of the Pampas) he makes his bed. It is curious how
similar circumstances produce such similar results in manners. At the
Cape of Good Hope the same hospitality, and very nearly the same points
of etiquette, are universally observed. The difference, however,
between the character of the Spaniard and that of the Dutch boor is
shown, by the former never asking his guest a single question beyond
the strictest rule of politeness, whilst the honest Dutchman demands
where he has been, where he is going, what is his business, and even
how many brothers, sisters, or children he may happen to have.
Shortly after our arrival at Don Juan’s one of the largest herds of
cattle was driven in towards the house, and three beasts were picked
out to be slaughtered for the supply of the establishment. These
half-wild cattle are very active; and knowing full well the fatal lazo,
they led the horses a long and laborious chase. After witnessing the
rude wealth displayed in the number of cattle, men, and horses, Don
Juan’s miserable house was quite curious. The floor consisted of
hardened mud, and the windows were without glass; the sitting-room
boasted only of a few of the roughest chairs and stools, with a couple
of tables. The supper, although several strangers were present,
consisted of two huge piles, one of roast beef, the other of boiled,
with some pieces of pumpkin: besides this latter there was no other
vegetable, and not even a morsel of bread. For drinking, a large
earthenware jug of water served the whole party. Yet this man was the
owner of several square miles of land, of which nearly every acre would
produce corn, and, with a little trouble, all the common vegetables.
The evening was spent in smoking, with a little impromptu singing,
accompanied by the guitar. The signoritas all sat together in one
corner of the room, and did not sup with the men.
[Illustration]
So many works have been written about these countries,
that it is almost superfluous to describe either the lazo or the bolas.
The lazo consists of a very strong, but thin, well-plaited rope, made
of raw hide. One end is attached to the broad surcingle, which fastens
together the complicated gear of the recado, or saddle used in the
Pampas; the other is terminated by a small ring of iron or brass, by
which a noose can be formed. The Gaucho, when he is going to use the
lazo, keeps a small coil in his bridle-hand, and in the other holds the
running noose, which is made very large, generally having a diameter of
about eight feet. This he whirls round his head, and by the dexterous
movement of his wrist keeps the noose open; then, throwing it, he
causes it to fall on any particular spot he chooses. The lazo, when not
used, is tied up in a small coil to the after part of the recado. The
bolas, or balls, are of two kinds: the simplest, which is chiefly used
for catching ostriches, consists of two round stones, covered with
leather, and united by a thin plaited thong, about eight feet long. The
other kind differs only in having three balls united by the thongs to a
common centre. The Gaucho holds the smallest of the three in his hand,
and whirls the other two round and round his head; then, taking aim,
sends them like chain shot revolving through the air. The balls no
sooner strike any object, than, winding round it, they cross each
other, and become firmly hitched. The size and weight of the balls
varies, according to the purpose for which they are made: when of
stone, although not larger than an apple, they are sent with such force
as sometimes to break the leg even of a horse. I have seen the balls
made of wood, and as large as a turnip, for the sake of catching these
animals without injuring them. The balls are sometimes made of iron,
and these can be hurled to
the greatest distance. The main difficulty in using either lazo or
bolas is to ride so well as to be able at full speed, and while
suddenly turning about, to whirl them so steadily round the head, as to
take aim: on foot any person would soon learn the art. One day, as I
was amusing myself by galloping and whirling the balls round my head,
by accident the free one struck a bush, and its revolving motion being
thus destroyed, it immediately fell to the ground, and, like magic
caught one hind leg of my horse; the other ball was then jerked out of
my hand, and the horse fairly secured. Luckily he was an old practised
animal, and knew what it meant; otherwise he would probably have kicked
till he had thrown himself down. The Gauchos roared with laughter; they
cried out that they had seen every sort of animal caught, but had never
before seen a man caught by himself.
During the two succeeding days, I reached the farthest point which I
was anxious to examine. The country wore the same aspect, till at last
the fine green turf became more wearisome than a dusty turnpike road.
We everywhere saw great numbers of partridges (Nothura major). These
birds do not go in coveys, nor do they conceal themselves like the
English kind. It appears a very silly bird. A man on horseback by
riding round and round in a circle, or rather in a spire, so as to
approach closer each time, may knock on the head as many as he pleases.
The more common method is to catch them with a running noose, or little
lazo, made of the stem of an ostrich’s feather, fastened to the end of
a long stick. A boy on a quiet old horse will frequently thus catch
thirty or forty in a day. In Arctic North America[1] the Indians catch
the Varying Hare by walking spirally round and round it, when on its
form: the middle of the day is reckoned the best time, when the sun is
high, and the shadow of the hunter not very long.
[1] Hearne’s _Journey_, p. 383.
On our return to Maldonado, we followed rather a different line of
road. Near Pan de Azucar, a landmark well known to all those who have
sailed up the Plata, I stayed a day at the house of a most hospitable
old Spaniard. Early in the morning we ascended the Sierra de las
Animas. By the aid of the rising sun the scenery was almost
picturesque. To the westward
the view extended over an immense level plain as far as the Mount, at
Monte Video, and to the eastward, over the mammillated country of
Maldonado. On the summit of the mountain there were several small heaps
of stones, which evidently had lain there for many years. My companion
assured me that they were the work of the Indians in the old time. The
heaps were similar, but on a much smaller scale, to those so commonly
found on the mountains of Wales. The desire to signalise any event, on
the highest point of the neighbouring land, seems a universal passion
with mankind. At the present day, not a single Indian, either civilised
or wild, exists in this part of the province; nor am I aware that the
former inhabitants have left behind them any more permanent records
than these insignificant piles on the summit of the Sierra de las
Animas.
The general, and almost entire absence of trees in Banda Oriental is
remarkable. Some of the rocky hills are partly covered by thickets, and
on the banks of the larger streams, especially to the north of Las
Minas, willow-trees are not uncommon. Near the Arroyo Tapes I heard of
a wood of palms; and one of these trees, of considerable size, I saw
near the Pan de Azucar, in lat. 35°. These, and the trees planted by
the Spaniards, offer the only exceptions to the general scarcity of
wood. Among the introduced kinds may be enumerated poplars, olives,
peach, and other fruit trees: the peaches succeed so well, that they
afford the main supply of firewood to the city of Buenos Ayres.
Extremely level countries, such as the Pampas, seldom appear favourable
to the growth of trees. This may possibly be attributed either to the
force of the winds, or the kind of drainage. In the nature of the land,
however, around Maldonado, no such reason is apparent; the rocky
mountains afford protected situations; enjoying various kinds of soil;
streamlets of water are common at the bottoms of nearly every valley;
and the clayey nature of the earth seems adapted to retain moisture. It
has been inferred, with much probability, that the presence of woodland
is generally determined[2] by the annual amount of moisture; yet in
this province abundant and heavy rain falls during the winter; and the
summer, though
dry, is not so in any excessive degree.[3] We see nearly the whole of
Australia covered by lofty trees, yet that country possesses a far more
arid climate. Hence we must look to some other and unknown cause.
[2] Maclaren, article “America,” _Encyclopedia Britannica._
[3] Azara says “Je crois que la quantité annuelle des pluies est, dans
toutes ces contrées, plus considérable qu’en Espagne.”—Vol. i, p. 36.
Confining our view to South America, we should certainly be tempted to
believe that trees flourished only under a very humid climate; for the
limit of the forest-land follows, in a most remarkable manner, that of
the damp winds. In the southern part of the continent, where the
western gales, charged with moisture from the Pacific, prevail, every
island on the broken west coast, from lat. 38° to the extreme point of
Tierra del Fuego, is densely covered by impenetrable forests. On the
eastern side of the Cordillera, over the same extent of latitude, where
a blue sky and a fine climate prove that the atmosphere has been
deprived of its moisture by passing over the mountains, the arid plains
of Patagonia support a most scanty vegetation. In the more northern
parts of the continent, within the limits of the constant south-eastern
trade-wind, the eastern side is ornamented by magnificent forests;
whilst the western coast, from lat. 4° S. to lat. 32° S., may be
described as a desert; on this western coast, northward of lat. 4° S.,
where the trade-wind loses its regularity, and heavy torrents of rain
fall periodically, the shores of the Pacific, so utterly desert in
Peru, assume near Cape Blanco the character of luxuriance so celebrated
at Guayaquil and Panama. Hence in the southern and northern parts of
the continent, the forest and desert lands occupy reversed positions
with respect to the Cordillera, and these positions are apparently
determined by the direction of the prevalent winds. In the middle of
the continent there is a broad intermediate band, including central
Chile and the provinces of La Plata, where the rain-bringing winds have
not to pass over lofty mountains, and where the land is neither a
desert nor covered by forests. But even the rule, if confined to South
America, of trees flourishing only in a climate rendered humid by
rain-bearing winds, has a strongly marked exception in the case of the
Falkland Islands. These islands, situated in the same latitude with
Tierra del Fuego and only between two and three hundred miles distant
from it, having a nearly similar
climate, with a geological formation almost identical, with favourable
situations and the same kind of peaty soil, yet can boast of few plants
deserving even the title of bushes; whilst in Tierra del Fuego it is
impossible to find an acre of land not covered by the densest forest.
In this case, both the direction of the heavy gales of wind and of the
currents of the sea are favourable to the transport of seeds from
Tierra del Fuego, as is shown by the canoes and trunks of trees drifted
from that country, and frequently thrown on the shores of the Western
Falkland. Hence perhaps it is, that there are many plants in common to
the two countries: but with respect to the trees of Tierra del Fuego,
even attempts made to transplant them have failed.
During our stay at Maldonado I collected several quadrupeds, eighty
kinds of birds, and many reptiles, including nine species of snakes. Of
the indigenous mammalia, the only one now left of any size, which is
common, is the Cervus campestris. This deer is exceedingly abundant,
often in small herds, throughout the countries bordering the Plata and
in Northern Patagonia. If a person crawling close along the ground,
slowly advances towards a herd, the deer frequently, out of curiosity,
approach to reconnoitre him. I have by this means, killed from one
spot, three out of the same herd. Although so tame and inquisitive, yet
when approached on horseback, they are exceedingly wary. In this
country nobody goes on foot, and the deer knows man as its enemy only
when he is mounted and armed with the bolas. At Bahia Blanca, a recent
establishment in Northern Patagonia, I was surprised to find how little
the deer cared for the noise of a gun: one day I fired ten times from
within eighty yards at one animal; and it was much more startled at the
ball cutting up the ground than at the report of the rifle. My powder
being exhausted, I was obliged to get up (to my shame as a sportsman be
it spoken, though well able to kill birds on the wing) and halloo till
the deer ran away.
The most curious fact with respect to this animal, is the
overpoweringly strong and offensive odour which proceeds from the buck.
It is quite indescribable: several times whilst skinning the specimen
which is now mounted at the Zoological Museum, I was almost overcome by
nausea. I tied up the
skin in a silk pocket-handkerchief, and so carried it home: this
handkerchief, after being well washed, I continually used, and it was
of course as repeatedly washed; yet every time, for a space of one year
and seven months, when first unfolded, I distinctly perceived the
odour. This appears an astonishing instance of the permanence of some
matter, which nevertheless in its nature must be most subtile and
volatile. Frequently, when passing at the distance of half a mile to
leeward of a herd, I have perceived the whole air tainted with the
effluvium. I believe the smell from the buck is most powerful at the
period when its horns are perfect, or free from the hairy skin. When in
this state the meat is, of course, quite uneatable; but the Gauchos
assert, that if buried for some time in fresh earth, the taint is
removed. I have somewhere read that the islanders in the north of
Scotland treat the rank carcasses of the fish-eating birds in the same
manner.
The order Rodentia is here very numerous in species: of mice alone I
obtained no less than eight kinds.[4] The largest gnawing animal in the
world, the Hydrochærus capybara (the water-hog), is here also common.
One which I shot at Monte Video weighed ninety-eight pounds: its
length, from the end of the snout to the stump-like tail, was three
feet two inches; and its girth three feet eight. These great Rodents
occasionally frequent the islands in the mouth of the Plata, where the
water is quite salt, but are far more abundant on the borders of
fresh-water lakes and rivers. Near Maldonado three or four generally
live together. In the daytime they either lie among the aquatic plants,
or openly feed on the turf plain.[5] When viewed at a distance, from
their manner of walking and colour they resemble pigs: but when seated
on their haunches, and attentively watching any object with one eye,
they reassume the appearance of their congeners, cavies and rabbits.
Both the front and side view of their head has quite a ludicrous
aspect, from the great depth of their jaw. These animals, at Maldonado,
were very tame; by cautiously walking, I approached within three yards
of four old ones. This tameness may probably be accounted for, by the
Jaguar having been banished for some years, and by the Gaucho not
thinking it worth his while to hunt them. As I approached nearer and
nearer they frequently made their peculiar noise, which is a low abrupt
grunt, not having much actual sound, but rather arising from the sudden
expulsion of air: the only noise I know at all like it, is the first
hoarse bark of a large dog. Having watched the four from almost within
arm’s length (and they me) for several minutes, they rushed into the
water at full gallop with the greatest impetuosity, and emitted at the
same time their bark. After diving a short distance they came again to
the surface, but only just showed the upper part of their heads. When
the female is swimming in the water, and has young ones, they are said
to sit on her back. These animals are easily killed in numbers; but
their skins are of trifling value, and the meat is very indifferent. On
the islands in the Rio Parana they are exceedingly abundant, and afford
the ordinary prey to the Jaguar.
[4] In South America I collected altogether twenty-seven species of
mice, and thirteen more are known from the works of Azara and other
authors. Those collected by myself have been named and described by
Mr. Waterhouse at the meetings of the Zoological Society. I must be
allowed to take this opportunity of returning my cordial thanks to Mr.
Waterhouse, and to the other gentleman attached to that Society, for
their kind and most liberal assistance on all occasions.
[5] In the stomach and duodenum of a capybara which I opened, I found
a very large quantity of a thin yellowish fluid, in which scarcely a
fibre could be distinguished. Mr. Owen informs me that a part of the
œsophagus is so constructed that nothing much larger than a crowquill
can be passed down. Certainly the broad teeth and strong jaws of this
animal are well fitted to grind into pulp the aquatic plants on which
it feeds.
The Tucutuco (Ctenomys Brasiliensis) is a curious small animal, which
may be briefly described as a Gnawer, with the habits of a mole. It is
extremely numerous in some parts of the country, but it is difficult to
be procured, and never, I believe, comes out of the ground. It throws
up at the mouth of its burrows hillocks of earth like those of the
mole, but smaller. Considerable tracts of country are so completely
undermined by these animals that horses, in passing over, sink above
their fetlocks. The tucutucos appear, to a certain degree, to be
gregarious: the man who procured the specimens for me had caught six
together, and he said this was a common occurrence. They are nocturnal
in their habits; and their principal food is the roots of plants, which
are the object of their extensive and superficial burrows. This animal
is universally known by a very peculiar noise which it makes when
beneath the ground. A person, the first time he hears it, is much
surprised; for it is not easy to tell whence it comes, nor is it
possible to guess what
kind of creature utters it. The noise consists in a short, but not
rough, nasal grunt, which is monotonously repeated about four times in
quick succession:[6] the name Tucutuco is given in imitation of the
sound. Where this animal is abundant, it may be heard at all times of
the day, and sometimes directly beneath one’s feet. When kept in a
room, the tucutucos move both slowly and clumsily, which appears owing
to the outward action of their hind legs; and they are quite incapable,
from the socket of the thigh-bone not having a certain ligament, of
jumping even the smallest vertical height. They are very stupid in
making any attempt to escape; when angry or frightened they utter the
tucu-tuco. Of those I kept alive, several, even the first day, became
quite tame, not attempting to bite or to run away; others were a little
wilder.
[6] At the R. Negro, in Northern Patagonia, there is an animal of the
same habits, and probably a closely allied species, but which I never
saw. Its noise is different from that of the Maldonado kind; it is
repeated only twice instead of three or four times, and is more
distinct and sonorous: when heard from a distance it so closely
resembles the sound made in cutting down a small tree with an axe,
that I have sometimes remained in doubt concerning it.
The man who caught them asserted that very many are invariably found
blind. A specimen which I preserved in spirits was in this state; Mr.
Reid considers it to be the effect of inflammation in the nictitating
membrane. When the animal was alive I placed my finger within half an
inch of its head, and not the slightest notice was taken: it made its
way, however, about the room nearly as well as the others. Considering
the strictly subterranean habits of the tucu-tuco, the blindness,
though so common, cannot be a very serious evil; yet it appears strange
that any animal should possess an organ frequently subject to be
injured. Lamarck would have been delighted with this fact, had he known
it, when speculating[7] (probably with more truth than usual with him)
on the gradually-_acquired_ blindness of the Aspalax, a Gnawer living
under ground, and of the Proteus, a reptile living in dark caverns
filled with water; in both of which animals the eye is in an almost
rudimentary state, and is covered by a tendinous membrane and skin. In
the common mole the eye is extraordinarily small but perfect, though
many anatomists doubt whether it is connected with the true optic
nerve; its vision must certainly be imperfect, though
probably useful to the animal when it leaves its burrow. In the
tucu-tuco, which I believe never comes to the surface of the ground,
the eye is rather larger, but often rendered blind and useless, though
without apparently causing any inconvenience to the animal; no doubt
Lamarck would have said that the tucu-tuco is now passing into the
state of the Aspalax and Proteus.
[7] _Philosoph. Zoolog._ tome i, p. 242.
Birds of many kinds are extremely abundant on the undulating grassy
plains around Maldonado. There are several species of a family allied
in structure and manners to our Starling: one of these (Molothrus
niger) is remarkable from its habits. Several may often be seen
standing together on the back of a cow or horse; and while perched on a
hedge, pluming themselves in the sun, they sometimes attempt to sing,
or rather to hiss; the noise being very peculiar, resembling that of
bubbles of air passing rapidly from a small orifice under water, so as
to produce an acute sound. According to Azara, this bird, like the
cuckoo, deposits its eggs in other birds’ nests. I was several times
told by the country people that there certainly is some bird having
this habit; and my assistant in collecting, who is a very accurate
person, found a nest of the sparrow of this country (Zonotrichia
matutina), with one egg in it larger than the others, and of a
different colour and shape. In North America there is another species
of Molothrus (M. pecoris), which has a similar cuckoo-like habit, and
which is most closely allied in every respect to the species from the
Plata, even in such trifling peculiarities as standing on the backs of
cattle; it differs only in being a little smaller, and in its plumage
and eggs being of a slightly different shade of colour. This close
agreement in structure and habits, in representative species coming
from opposite quarters of a great continent, always strikes one as
interesting, though of common occurrence.
Mr. Swainson has well remarked,[8] that with the exception of the
Molothrus pecoris, to which must be added the M. niger, the cuckoos are
the only birds which can be called truly parasitical; namely, such as
“fasten themselves, as it were, on another living animal, whose animal
heat brings their young into life, whose food they live upon, and whose
death would
cause theirs during the period of infancy.” It is remarkable that some
of the species, but not all, both of the Cuckoo and Molothrus should
agree in this one strange habit of their parasitical propagation,
whilst opposed to each other in almost every other habit: the
molothrus, like our starling, is eminently sociable, and lives on the
open plains without art or disguise: the cuckoo, as every one knows, is
a singularly shy bird; it frequents the most retired thickets, and
feeds on fruit and caterpillars. In structure also these two genera are
widely removed from each other. Many theories, even phrenological
theories, have been advanced to explain the origin of the cuckoo laying
its eggs in other birds’ nests. M. Prévost alone, I think, has thrown
light by his observations[9] on this puzzle: he finds that the female
cuckoo, which, according to most observers, lays at least from four to
six eggs, must pair with the male each time after laying only one or
two eggs. Now, if the cuckoo was obliged to sit on her own eggs, she
would either have to sit on all together, and therefore leave those
first laid so long, that they probably would become addled; or she
would have to hatch separately each egg or two eggs, as soon as laid:
but as the cuckoo stays a shorter time in this country than any other
migratory bird, she certainly would not have time enough for the
successive hatchings. Hence we can perceive in the fact of the cuckoo
pairing several times, and laying her eggs at intervals, the cause of
her depositing her eggs in other birds’ nests, and leaving them to the
care of foster-parents. I am strongly inclined to believe that this
view is correct, from having been independently led (as we shall
hereafter see) to an analogous conclusion with regard to the South
American ostrich, the females of which are parasitical, if I may so
express it, on each other; each female laying several eggs in the nests
of several other females, and the male ostrich undertaking all the
cares of incubation, like the strange foster-parents with the cuckoo.
[8] _Magazine of Zoology and Botany_, vol. i, p. 217.
[9] Read before the Academy of Sciences in Paris. L’Institut, 1834, p.
418.
I will mention only two other birds, which are very common, and render
themselves prominent from their habits. The Saurophagus sulphuratus is
typical of the great American tribe of tyrant-flycatchers. In its
structure it closely approaches the true shrikes, but in its habits may
be compared to many birds. I have frequently observed it, hunting a
field, hovering over
one spot like a hawk, and then proceeding on to another. When seen thus
suspended in the air, it might very readily at a short distance be
mistaken for one of the Rapacious order; its stoop, however, is very
inferior in force and rapidity to that of a hawk. At other times the
Saurophagus haunts the neighbourhood of water, and there, like a
kingfisher, remaining stationary, it catches any small fish which may
come near the margin. These birds are not unfrequently kept either in
cages or in courtyards, with their wings cut. They soon become tame,
and are very amusing from their cunning odd manners, which were
described to me as being similar to those of the common magpie. Their
flight is undulatory, for the weight of the head and bill appears too
great for the body. In the evening the Saurophagus takes its stand on a
bush, often by the roadside, and continually repeats without change a
shrill and rather agreeable cry, which somewhat resembles articulate
words: the Spaniards say it is like the words “Bien te veo” (I see you
well), and accordingly have given it this name.
A mocking-bird (Mimus orpheus), called by the inhabitants Calandria, is
remarkable, from possessing a song far superior to that of any other
bird in the country: indeed, it is nearly the only bird in South
America which I have observed to take its stand for the purpose of
singing. The song may be compared to that of the Sedge warbler, but is
more powerful; some harsh notes and some very high ones, being mingled
with a pleasant warbling. It is heard only during the spring. At other
times its cry is harsh and far from harmonious. Near Maldonado these
birds were tame and bold; they constantly attended the country houses
in numbers, to pick the meat which was hung up on the posts or walls:
if any other small bird joined the feast, the Calandria soon chased it
away. On the wide uninhabited plains of Patagonia another closely
allied species, O. Patagonica of d’Orbigny, which frequents the valleys
clothed with spiny bushes, is a wilder bird, and has a slightly
different tone of voice. It appears to me a curious circumstance, as
showing the fine shades of difference in habits, that judging from this
latter respect alone, when I first saw this second species, I thought
it was different from the Maldonado kind. Having afterwards procured a
specimen, and comparing the two without particular care, they appeared
so very similar,
that I changed my opinion; but now Mr. Gould says that they are
certainly distinct; a conclusion in conformity with the trifling
difference of habit, of which, however, he was not aware.
The number, tameness, and disgusting habits of the carrion-feeding
hawks of South America make them pre-eminently striking to any one
accustomed only to the birds of Northern Europe. In this list may be
included four species of the Caracara or Polyborus, the Turkey buzzard,
the Gallinazo, and the Condor. The Caracaras are, from their structure,
placed among the eagles: we shall soon see how ill they become so high
a rank. In their habits they well supply the place of our
carrion-crows, magpies, and ravens; a tribe of birds widely distributed
over the rest of the world, but entirely absent in South America. To
begin with the Polyborus Brasiliensis: this is a common bird, and has a
wide geographical range; it is most numerous on the grassy savannahs of
La Plata (where it goes by the name of Carrancha), and is far from
unfrequent throughout the sterile plains of Patagonia. In the desert
between the rivers Negro and Colorado, numbers constantly attend the
line of road to devour the carcasses of the exhausted animals which
chance to perish from fatigue and thirst. Although thus common in these
dry and open countries, and likewise on the arid shores of the Pacific,
it is nevertheless found inhabiting the damp impervious forests of West
Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. The Carranchas, together with the
Chimango, constantly attend in numbers the estancias and
slaughtering-houses. If an animal dies on the plain the Gallinazo
commences the feast, and then the two species of Polyborus pick the
bones clean. These birds, although thus commonly feeding together, are
far from being friends. When the Carrancha is quietly seated on the
branch of a tree or on the ground, the Chimango often continues for a
long time flying backwards and forwards, up and down, in a semicircle,
trying each time at the bottom of the curve to strike its larger
relative. The Carrancha takes little notice, except by bobbing its
head. Although the Carranchas frequently assemble in numbers, they are
not gregarious; for in desert places they may be seen solitary, or more
commonly by pairs.
The Carranchas are said to be very crafty, and to steal great
numbers of eggs. They attempt, also, together with the Chimango, to
pick off the scabs from the sore backs of horses and mules. The poor
animal, on the one hand, with its ears down and its back arched; and,
on the other, the hovering bird, eyeing at the distance of a yard the
disgusting morsel, form a picture, which has been described by Captain
Head with his own peculiar spirit and accuracy. These false eagles most
rarely kill any living bird or animal; and their vulture-like,
necrophagous habits are very evident to any one who has fallen asleep
on the desolate plains of Patagonia, for when he wakes, he will see, on
each surrounding hillock, one of these birds patiently watching him
with an evil eye: it is a feature in the landscape of these countries,
which will be recognised by every one who has wandered over them. If a
party of men go out hunting with dogs and horses, they will be
accompanied, during the day, by several of these attendants. After
feeding, the uncovered craw protrudes; at such times, and indeed
generally, the Carrancha is an inactive, tame, and cowardly bird. Its
flight is heavy and slow, like that of an English rook. It seldom
soars; but I have twice seen one at a great height gliding through the
air with much ease. It runs (in contradistinction to hopping), but not
quite so quickly as some of its congeners. At times the Carrancha is
noisy, but is not generally so: its cry is loud, very harsh and
peculiar, and may be likened to the sound of the Spanish guttural _g_,
followed by a rough double _r r_; when uttering this cry it elevates
its head higher and higher, till at last, with its beak wide open, the
crown almost touches the lower part of the back. This fact, which has
been doubted, is quite true; I have seen them several times with their
heads backwards in a completely inverted position. To these
observations I may add, on the high authority of Azara, that the
Carrancha feeds on worms, shells, slugs, grasshoppers, and frogs; that
it destroys young lambs by tearing the umbilical cord; and that it
pursues the Gallinazo, till that bird is compelled to vomit up the
carrion it may have recently gorged. Lastly, Azara states that several
Carranchas, five or six together, will unite in chase of large birds,
even such as herons. All these facts show that it is a bird of very
versatile habits and considerable ingenuity.
The Polyborus Chimango is considerably smaller than the
last species. It is truly omnivorous, and will eat even bread; and I
was assured that it materially injures the potato-crops in Chiloe, by
stocking up the roots when first planted. Of all the carrion-feeders it
is generally the last which leaves the skeleton of a dead animal, and
may often be seen within the ribs of a cow or horse, like a bird in a
cage. Another species is the Polyborus Novæ Zelandiæ, which is
exceedingly common in the Falkland Islands. These birds in many
respects resemble in their habits the Carranchas. They live on the
flesh of dead animals and on marine productions; and on the Ramirez
rocks their whole sustenance must depend on the sea. They are
extraordinarily tame and fearless, and haunt the neighbourhood of
houses for offal. If a hunting party kills an animal, a number soon
collect and patiently await, standing on the ground on all sides. After
eating, their uncovered craws are largely protruded, giving them a
disgusting appearance. They readily attack wounded birds: a cormorant
in this state having taken to the shore, was immediately seized on by
several, and its death hastened by their blows. The _Beagle_ was at the
Falklands only during the summer, but the officers of the _ Adventure_,
who were there in the winter, mention many extraordinary instances of
the boldness and rapacity of these birds. They actually pounced on a
dog that was lying fast asleep close by one of the party; and the
sportsmen had difficulty in preventing the wounded geese from being
seized before their eyes. It is said that several together (in this
respect resembling the Carranchas) wait at the mouth of a rabbit-hole,
and together seize on the animal when it comes out. They were
constantly flying on board the vessel when in the harbour; and it was
necessary to keep a good look-out to prevent the leather being torn
from the rigging, and the meat or game from the stern. These birds are
very mischievous and inquisitive; they will pick up almost anything
from the ground; a large black glazed hat was carried nearly a mile, as
was a pair of the heavy balls used in catching cattle. Mr. Usborne
experienced during the survey a more severe loss, in their stealing a
small Kater’s compass in a red morocco leather case, which was never
recovered. These birds are, moreover, quarrelsome and very passionate;
tearing up the grass with their bills from rage. They are not truly
gregarious; they do not soar, and their
flight is heavy and clumsy; on the ground they run extremely fast, very
much like pheasants. They are noisy, uttering several harsh cries, one
of which is like that of the English rook, hence the sealers always
call them rooks. It is a curious circumstance that, when crying out,
they throw their heads upwards and backwards, after the same manner as
the Carrancha. They build in the rocky cliffs of the sea-coast, but
only on the small adjoining islets, and not on the two main islands:
this is a singular precaution in so tame and fearless a bird. The
sealers say that the flesh of these birds, when cooked, is quite white,
and very good eating; but bold must the man be who attempts such a
meal.
We have now only to mention the turkey-buzzard (Vultur aura), and the
Gallinazo. The former is found wherever the country is moderately damp,
from Cape Horn to North America. Differently from the Polyborus
Brasiliensis and Chimango, it has found its way to the Falkland
Islands. The turkey-buzzard is a solitary bird, or at most goes in
pairs. It may at once be recognised from a long distance, by its lofty,
soaring, and most elegant flight. It is well known to be a true
carrion-feeder. On the west coast of Patagonia, among the
thickly-wooded islets and broken land, it lives exclusively on what the
sea throws up, and on the carcasses of dead seals. Wherever these
animals are congregated on the rocks, there the vultures may be seen.
The Gallinazo (Cathartes atratus) has a different range from the last
species, as it never occurs southward of lat. 41°. Azara states that
there exists a tradition that these birds, at the time of the conquest,
were not found near Monte Video, but that they subsequently followed
the inhabitants from more northern districts. At the present day they
are numerous in the valley of the Colorado, which is three hundred
miles due south of Monte Video. It seems probable that this additional
migration has happened since the time of Azara. The Gallinazo generally
prefers a humid climate, or rather the neighbourhood of fresh water;
hence it is extremely abundant in Brazil and La Plata, while it is
never found on the desert and arid plains of Northern Patagonia,
excepting near some stream. These birds frequent the whole Pampas to
the foot of the Cordillera, but I never saw or heard of one in Chile:
in Peru they are preserved as scavengers. These vultures certainly may
be called gregarious, for
they seem to have pleasure in society, and are not solely brought
together by the attraction of a common prey. On a fine day a flock may
often be observed at a great height, each bird wheeling round and round
without closing its wings, in the most graceful evolutions. This is
clearly performed for the mere pleasure of the exercise, or perhaps is
connected with their matrimonial alliances.
I have now mentioned all the carrion-feeders, excepting the condor, an
account of which will be more appropriately introduced when we visit a
country more congenial to its habits than the plains of La Plata.
In a broad band of sand-hillocks which separate the Laguna del Potrero
from the shores of the Plata, at the distance of a few miles from
Maldonado, I found a group of those vitrified, siliceous tubes, which
are formed by lightning entering loose sand. These tubes resemble in
every particular those from Drigg in Cumberland, described in the
_Geological Transactions._[10] The sand-hillocks of Maldonado, not
being protected by vegetation, are constantly changing their position.
From this cause the tubes projected above the surface; and numerous
fragments lying near, showed that they had formerly been buried to a
greater depth. Four sets entered the sand perpendicularly: by working
with my hands I traced one of them two feet deep; and some fragments
which evidently had belonged to the same tube, when added to the other
part, measured five feet three inches. The diameter of the whole tube
was nearly equal, and therefore we must suppose that originally it
extended to a much greater depth. These dimensions are however small,
compared to those of the tubes from Drigg, one of which was traced to a
depth of not less than thirty feet.
[10] _Geological Transactions_, vol. ii, p. 528. In the _Philosophical
Transactions_, 1790, p. 294, Dr. Priestley has described some
imperfect siliceous tubes and a melted pebble of quartz, found in
digging into the ground, under a tree, where a man had been killed by
lightning.
The internal surface is completely vitrified, glossy, and smooth. A
small fragment examined under the microscope appeared, from the number
of minute entangled air or perhaps steam bubbles, like an assay fused
before the blowpipe. The sand is entirely, or in greater part,
siliceous; but some points
are of a black colour, and from their glossy surface possess a metallic
lustre. The thickness of the wall of the tube varies from a thirtieth
to a twentieth of an inch, and occasionally even equals a tenth. On the
outside the grains of sand are rounded, and have a slightly glazed
appearance: I could not distinguish any signs of crystallisation. In a
similar manner to that described in the _ Geological Transactions_, the
tubes are generally compressed, and have deep longitudinal furrows, so
as closely to resemble a shrivelled vegetable stalk, or the bark of the
elm or cork tree. Their circumference is about two inches, but in some
fragments, which are cylindrical and without any furrows, it is as much
as four inches. The compression from the surrounding loose sand, acting
while the tube was still softened from the effects of the intense heat,
has evidently caused the creases or furrows. Judging from the
uncompressed fragments, the measure or bore of the lightning (if such a
term may be used) must have been about one inch and a quarter. At
Paris, M. Hachette and M. Beudant[11] succeeded in making tubes, in
most respects similar to these fulgurites, by passing very strong
shocks of galvanism through finely-powdered glass: when salt was added,
so as to increase its fusibility, the tubes were larger in every
dimension. They failed both with powdered feldspar and quartz. One
tube, formed with pounded glass, was very nearly an inch long, namely
.982, and had an internal diameter of .019 of an inch. When we hear
that the strongest battery in Paris was used, and that its power on a
substance of such easy fusibility as glass was to form tubes so
diminutive, we must feel greatly astonished at the force of a shock of
lightning, which, striking the sand in several places, has formed
cylinders, in one instance of at least thirty feet long, and having an
internal bore, where not compressed, of full an inch and a half; and
this in a material so extraordinarily refractory as quartz!
[11] _Annales de Chimie et de Physique_, tome xxxvii, p. 319.
The tubes, as I have already remarked, enter the sand nearly in a
vertical direction. One, however, which was less regular than the
others, deviated from a right line, at the most considerable bend, to
the amount of thirty-three degrees. From this same tube, two small
branches, about a foot apart, were sent off; one pointed downwards, and
the other upwards. This
latter case is remarkable, as the electric fluid must have turned back
at the acute angle of 26°, to the line of its main course. Besides the
four tubes which I found vertical, and traced beneath the surface,
there were several other groups of fragments, the original sites of
which without doubt were near. All occurred in a level area of shifting
sand, sixty yards by twenty, situated among some high sand-hillocks,
and at the distance of about half a mile from a chain of hills four or
five hundred feet in height. The most remarkable circumstance, as it
appears to me, in this case as well as in that of Drigg, and in one
described by M. Ribbentrop in Germany, is the number of tubes found
within such limited spaces. At Drigg, within an area of fifteen yards,
three were observed, and the same number occurred in Germany. In the
case which I have described, certainly more than four existed within
the space of the sixty by twenty yards. As it does not appear probable
that the tubes are produced by successive distinct shocks, we must
believe that the lightning, shortly before entering the ground, divides
itself into separate branches.
The neighbourhood of the Rio Plata seems peculiarly subject to electric
phenomena. In the year 1793,[12] one of the most destructive
thunderstorms perhaps on record happened at Buenos Ayres: thirty-seven
places within the city were struck by lightning, and nineteen people
killed. From facts stated in several books of travels, I am inclined to
suspect that thunderstorms are very common near the mouths of great
rivers. Is it not possible that the mixture of large bodies of fresh
and salt water may disturb the electrical equilibrium? Even during our
occasional visits to this part of South America, we heard of a ship,
two churches, and a house having been struck. Both the church and the
house I saw shortly afterwards: the house belonged to Mr. Hood, the
consul-general at Monte Video. Some of the effects were curious: the
paper, for nearly a foot on each side of the line where the bell-wires
had run, was blackened. The metal had been fused, and although the room
was about fifteen feet high, the globules, dropping on the chairs and
furniture, had drilled in them a chain of minute holes. A part of the
wall was shattered as if by gunpowder, and the fragments had been blown
off with force sufficient to dent the wall on the
opposite side of the room. The frame of a looking-glass was blackened,
and the gilding must have been volatilised, for a smelling-bottle,
which stood on the chimney-piece, was coated with bright metallic
particles, which adhered as firmly as if they had been enamelled.
[12] Azara’s _Voyage_, vol. i, p. 36.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]