Rio Negro—Estancias attacked by the Indians—Salt Lakes—Flamingoes—R.
Negro to R. Colorado—Sacred Tree—Patagonian Hare—Indian
Families—General Rosas—Proceed to Bahia Blanca—Sand Dunes—Negro
Lieutenant—Bahia Blanca—Saline Incrustations—Punta Alta—Zorillo.
RIO NEGRO TO BAHIA BLANCA.
_July_ 24_th_, 1833.—The _Beagle_ sailed from Maldonado, and on August
the 3rd she arrived off the mouth of the Rio Negro. This is the
principal river on the whole line of coast between the Strait of
Magellan and the Plata. It enters the sea about three hundred miles
south of the estuary of the Plata. About fifty years ago, under the old
Spanish government, a small colony was established here; and it is
still the most southern position (lat. 41°) on this eastern coast of
America inhabited by civilised man.
The country near the mouth of the river is wretched in the extreme: on
the south side a long line of perpendicular cliffs commences, which
exposes a section of the geological nature of the country. The strata
are of sandstone, and one layer was remarkable from being composed of a
firmly-cemented conglomerate of pumice pebbles, which must have
travelled more than four hundred miles, from the Andes. The surface is
everywhere covered up by a thick bed of gravel, which extends far and
wide over the open plain. Water is extremely scarce, and, where found,
is almost invariably brackish. The vegetation is scanty; and although
there are bushes of many kinds, all are armed with formidable thorns,
which seem to warn the stranger not to enter on these inhospitable
regions.
The settlement is situated eighteen miles up the river. The road
follows the foot of the sloping cliff, which forms the northern
boundary of the great valley in which the Rio Negro flows. On the way
we passed the ruins of some fine estancias, which a few years since had
been destroyed by the Indians. They withstood several attacks. A man
present at one gave me a very lively description of what took place.
The inhabitants had sufficient notice to drive all the cattle and
horses into the “corral”[1] which surrounded the house, and likewise to
mount some small cannon.
[1] The corral is an enclosure made of tall and strong stakes. Every
estancia, or farming estate, has one attached to it.
The Indians were Araucanians from the south of Chile; several hundreds
in number, and highly disciplined. They first appeared in two bodies on
a neighbouring hill; having there dismounted, and taken off their fur
mantles, they advanced naked to the charge. The only weapon of an
Indian is a very long bamboo or chuzo, ornamented with ostrich
feathers, and pointed by a sharp spear-head. My informer seemed to
remember with the greatest horror the quivering of these chuzos as they
approached near. When close, the cacique Pincheira hailed the besieged
to give up their arms, or he would cut all their throats. As this would
probably have been the result of their entrance under any
circumstances, the answer was given by a volley of musketry. The
Indians, with great steadiness, came to the very fence of the corral:
but to their surprise they found the posts fastened
together by iron nails instead of leather thongs, and, of course, in
vain attempted to cut them with their knives. This saved the lives of
the Christians: many of the wounded Indians were carried away by their
companions, and at last, one of the under caciques being wounded, the
bugle sounded a retreat. They retired to their horses, and seemed to
hold a council of war. This was an awful pause for the Spaniards, as
all their ammunition, with the exception of a few cartridges, was
expended. In an instant the Indians mounted their horses, and galloped
out of sight. Another attack was still more quickly repulsed. A cool
Frenchman managed the gun; he stopped till the Indians approached
close, and then raked their line with grape-shot: he thus laid
thirty-nine of them on the ground; and, of course, such a blow
immediately routed the whole party.
The town is indifferently called El Carmen or Patagones. It is built on
the face of a cliff which fronts the river, and many of the houses are
excavated even in the sandstone. The river is about two or three
hundred yards wide, and is deep and rapid. The many islands, with their
willow-trees, and the flat headlands, seen one behind the other on the
northern boundary of the broad green valley, form, by the aid of a
bright sun, a view almost picturesque. The number of inhabitants does
not exceed a few hundreds. These Spanish colonies do not, like our
British ones, carry within themselves the elements of growth. Many
Indians of pure blood reside here: the tribe of the Cacique Lucanee
constantly have their Toldos[2] on the outskirts of the town. The local
government partly supplies them with provisions, by giving them all the
old worn-out horses, and they earn a little by making horse-rugs and
other articles of riding-gear. These Indians are considered civilised;
but what their character may have gained by a lesser degree of
ferocity, is almost counterbalanced by their entire immorality. Some of
the younger men are, however, improving; they are willing to labour,
and a short time since a party went on a sealing-voyage, and behaved
very well. They were now enjoying the fruits of their labour, by being
dressed in very gay, clean clothes, and by being very idle. The taste
they showed in their dress was admirable; if you could have turned one
of these young
Indians into a statue of bronze, his drapery would have been perfectly
graceful.
[2] The hovels of the Indians are thus called.
One day I rode to a large salt-lake, or Salina, which is distant
fifteen miles from the town. During the winter it consists of a shallow
lake of brine, which in summer is converted into a field of snow-white
salt. The layer near the margin is from four to five inches thick, but
towards the centre its thickness increases. This lake was two and a
half miles long, and one broad. Others occur in the neighbourhood many
times larger, and with a floor of salt, two and three feet in
thickness, even when under water during the winter. One of these
brilliantly white and level expanses, in the midst of the brown and
desolate plain, offers an extraordinary spectacle. A large quantity of
salt is annually drawn from the salina: and great piles, some hundred
tons in weight, were lying ready for exportation.
The season for working the salinas forms the harvest of Patagones; for
on it the prosperity of the place depends. Nearly the whole population
encamps on the bank of the river, and the people are employed in
drawing out the salt in bullock-waggons. This salt is crystallised in
great cubes, and is remarkably pure: Mr. Trenham Reeks has kindly
analysed some for me, and he finds in it only 0.26 of gypsum and 0.22
of earthy matter. It is a singular fact that it does not serve so well
for preserving meat as sea-salt from the Cape de Verd islands; and a
merchant at Buenos Ayres told me that he considered it as fifty per
cent less valuable. Hence the Cape de Verd salt is constantly imported,
and is mixed with that from these salinas. The purity of the Patagonian
salt, or absence from it of those other saline bodies found in all
sea-water, is the only assignable cause for this inferiority: a
conclusion which no one, I think, would have suspected, but which is
supported by the fact lately ascertained,[3] that those salts answer
best for preserving cheese which contain most of the deliquescent
chlorides.
[3] Report of the Agricultural Chemistry Association in the
_Agricultural Gazette_, 1845, p. 93.
The border of the lake is formed of mud: and in this numerous large
crystals of gypsum, some of which are three inches long, lie embedded;
whilst on the surface others of sulphate of soda lie scattered about.
The Gauchos call the former
the “Padre del sal,” and the latter the “Madre;” they state that these
progenitive salts always occur on the borders of the salinas, when the
water begins to evaporate. The mud is black, and has a fetid odour. I
could not at first imagine the cause of this, but I afterwards
perceived that the froth which the wind drifted on shore was coloured
green, as if by confervæ; I attempted to carry home some of this green
matter, but from an accident failed. Parts of the lake seen from a
short distance appeared of a reddish colour, and this perhaps was owing
to some infusorial animalcula. The mud in many places was thrown up by
numbers of some kind of worm, or annelidous animal. How surprising it
is that any creatures should be able to exist in brine, and that they
should be crawling among crystals of sulphate of soda and lime! And
what becomes of these worms when, during the long summer, the surface
is hardened into a solid layer of salt?
Flamingoes in considerable numbers inhabit this lake, and breed here,
throughout Patagonia, in Northern Chile, and at the Galapagos Islands,
I met with these birds wherever there were lakes of brine. I saw them
here wading about in search of food—probably for the worms which burrow
in the mud; and these latter probably feed on infusoria or confervæ.
Thus we have a little living world within itself, adapted to these
inland lakes of brine. A minute crustaceous animal (Cancer salinus) is
said[4] to live in countless numbers in the brine-pans at Lymington:
but only in those in which the fluid has attained, from evaporation,
considerable strength—namely, about a quarter of a pound of salt to a
pint of water. Well may we affirm that every part of the world is
habitable! Whether lakes of brine, or those subterranean ones hidden
beneath volcanic mountains—warm mineral springs—the wide expanse and
depths of the ocean—the
upper regions of the atmosphere, and even the surface of perpetual
snow—all support organic beings.
[4] _Linnæan Transactions_, vol. xi, p. 205. It is remarkable how all
the circumstances connected with the salt-lakes in Siberia and
Patagonia are similar. Siberia, like Patagonia, appears to have been
recently elevated above the waters of the sea. In both countries the
salt-lakes occupy shallow depressions in the plains; in both the mud
on the borders is black and fetid; beneath the crust of common salt,
sulphate of soda or of magnesia occurs, imperfectly crystallised; and
in both, the muddy sand is mixed with lentils of gypsum. The Siberian
salt-lakes are inhabited by small crustaceous animals; and flamingoes
(_Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal_, Jan. 1830) likewise frequent
them. As these circumstances, apparently so trifling, occur in two
distant continents, we may feel sure that they are the necessary
results of common causes.—See _Pallas’s Travels_, 1793 to 1794, pp.
129 to 134.
To the northward of the Rio Negro, between it and the inhabited country
near Buenos Ayres, the Spaniards have only one small settlement,
recently established at Bahia Blanca. The distance in a straight line
to Buenos Ayres is very nearly five hundred British miles. The
wandering tribes of horse Indians, which have always occupied the
greater part of this country, having of late much harassed the outlying
estancias, the government at Buenos Ayres equipped some time since an
army under the command of General Rosas for the purpose of
exterminating them. The troops were now encamped on the banks of the
Colorado; a river lying about eighty miles northward of the Rio Negro.
When General Rosas left Buenos Ayres he struck in a direct line across
the unexplored plains: and as the country was thus pretty well cleared
of Indians, he left behind him, at wide intervals, a small party of
soldiers with a troop of horses (_a posta_), so as to be enabled to
keep up a communication with the capital. As the _Beagle_ intended to
call at Bahia Blanca, I determined to proceed there by land; and
ultimately I extended my plan to travel the whole way by the postas to
Buenos Ayres.
_August_ 11_th_, 1833.—Mr. Harris, an Englishman residing at Patagones,
a guide, and five Gauchos who were proceeding to the army on business,
were my companions on the journey. The Colorado, as I have already
said, is nearly eighty miles distant: and as we travelled slowly, we
were two days and a half on the road. The whole line of country
deserves scarcely a better name than that of a desert. Water is found
only in two small wells; it is called fresh; but even at this time of
the year, during the rainy season, it was quite brackish. In the summer
this must be a distressing passage; for now it was sufficiently
desolate.
The valley of the Rio Negro, broad as it is, has merely been excavated
out of the sandstone plain; for immediately above the bank on which the
town stands, a level country commences, which is interrupted only by a
few trifling valleys and depressions. Everywhere the landscape wears
the same sterile aspect; a dry gravelly soil supports tufts of
brown withered grass, and low scattered bushes, armed with thorns.
Shortly after passing the first spring we came in sight of a famous
tree, which the Indians reverence as the altar of Walleechu. It is
situated on a high part of the plain; and hence is a landmark visible
at a great distance. As soon as a tribe of Indians come in sight of it,
they offer their adorations by loud shouts. The tree itself is low,
much branched, and thorny: just above the root it has a diameter of
about three feet. It stands by itself without any neighbour, and was
indeed the first tree we saw; afterwards we met with a few others of
the same kind, but they were far from common. Being winter the tree had
no leaves, but in their place numberless threads, by which the various
offerings, such as cigars, bread, meat, pieces of cloth, etc., had been
suspended. Poor Indians, not having anything better, only pull a thread
out of their ponchos, and fasten it to the tree. Richer Indians are
accustomed to pour spirits and maté into a certain hole, and likewise
to smoke upwards, thinking thus to afford all possible gratification to
Walleechu. To complete the scene, the tree was surrounded by the
bleached bones of horses which had been slaughtered as sacrifices. All
Indians of every age and sex make their offerings; they then think that
their horses will not tire, and that they themselves shall be
prosperous. The Gaucho who told me this, said that in the time of peace
he had witnessed this scene, and that he and others used to wait till
the Indians had passed by, for the sake of stealing from Walleechu the
offerings.
The Gauchos think that the Indians consider the tree as the god itself;
but it seems far more probable that they regard it as the altar. The
only cause which I can imagine for this choice, is its being a landmark
in a dangerous passage. The Sierra de la Ventana is visible at an
immense distance; and a Gaucho told me that he was once riding with an
Indian a few miles to the north of the Rio Colorado, when the Indian
commenced making the same loud noise, which is usual at the first sight
of the distant tree, putting his hand to his head, and then pointing in
the direction of the Sierra. Upon being asked the reason of this, the
Indian said in broken Spanish, “First see the Sierra.”
About two leagues beyond this curious tree we halted for the night: at
this instant an unfortunate cow was spied by the lynx-eyed Gauchos, who
set off in full chase, and in a few minutes dragged her in with their
lazos, and slaughtered her. We here had the four necessaries of life
“en el campo,”—pasture for the horses, water (only a muddy puddle),
meat and firewood. The Gauchos were in high spirits at finding all
these luxuries; and we soon set to work at the poor cow. This was the
first night which I passed under the open sky, with the gear of the
recado for my bed. There is high enjoyment in the independence of the
Gaucho life—to be able at any moment to pull up your horse, and say,
“Here we will pass the night.” The deathlike stillness of the plain,
the dogs keeping watch, the gipsy-group of Gauchos making their beds
round the fire, have left in my mind a strongly-marked picture of this
first night, which will never be forgotten.
The next day the country continued similar to that above described. It
is inhabited by few birds or animals of any kind. Occasionally a deer,
or a Guanaco (wild Llama) may be seen; but the Agouti (Cavia
Patagonica) is the commonest quadruped. This animal here represents our
hares. It differs, however, from that genus in many essential respects;
for instance, it has only three toes behind. It is also nearly twice
the size, weighing from twenty to twenty-five pounds. The Agouti is a
true friend of the desert; it is a common feature of the landscape to
see two or three hopping quickly one after the other in a straight line
across these wild plains. They are found as far north as the Sierra
Tapalguen (lat. 37° 30′), where the plain rather suddenly becomes
greener and more humid; and their southern limit is between Port Desire
and St. Julian, where there is no change in the nature of the country.
It is a singular fact, that although the Agouti is not now found as far
south as Port St. Julian, yet that Captain Wood, in his voyage in 1670,
talks of them as being numerous there. What cause can have altered, in
a wide, uninhabited, and rarely-visited country, the range of an animal
like this? It appears also, from the number shot by Captain Wood in one
day at Port Desire, that they must have been considerably more abundant
there formerly than at present. Where the Bizcacha lives and makes its
burrows, the Agouti uses them;
but where, as at Bahia Blanca, the Bizcacha is not found, the Agouti
burrows for itself. The same thing occurs with the little owl of the
Pampas (Athene cunicularia), which has so often been described as
standing like a sentinel at the mouth of the burrows; for in Banda
Oriental, owing to the absence of the Bizcacha, it is obliged to hollow
out its own habitation.
The next morning, as we approached the Rio Colorado, the appearance of
the country changed; we soon came on a plain covered with turf, which,
from its flowers, tall clover, and little owls, resembled the Pampas.
We passed also a muddy swamp of considerable extent, which in summer
dries, and becomes incrusted with various salts; and hence is called a
salitral. It was covered by low succulent plants, of the same kind with
those growing on the sea-shore. The Colorado, at the pass where we
crossed it, is only about sixty yards wide; generally it must be nearly
double that width. Its course is very tortuous, being marked by
willow-trees and beds of reeds: in a direct line the distance to the
mouth of the river is said to be nine leagues, but by water
twenty-five. We were delayed crossing in the canoe by some immense
troops of mares, which were swimming the river in order to follow a
division of troops into the interior. A more ludicrous spectacle I
never beheld than the hundreds and hundreds of heads, all directed one
way, with pointed ears and distended snorting nostrils, appearing just
above the water like a great shoal of some amphibious animal. Mare’s
flesh is the only food which the soldiers have when on an expedition.
This gives them a great facility of movement; for the distance to which
horses can be driven over these plains is quite surprising: I have been
assured that an unloaded horse can travel a hundred miles a day for
many days successively.
The encampment of General Rosas was close to the river. It consisted of
a square formed by waggons, artillery, straw huts, etc. The soldiers
were nearly all cavalry; and I should think such a villainous,
banditti-like army was never before collected together. The greater
number of men were of a mixed breed, between Negro, Indian, and
Spaniard. I know not the reason, but men of such origin seldom have a
good expression of countenance. I called on the Secretary
to show my passport. He began to cross-question me in the most
dignified and mysterious manner. By good luck I had a letter of
recommendation from the government of Buenos Ayres[5] to the commandant
of Patagones. This was taken to General Rosas, who sent me a very
obliging message; and the Secretary returned all smiles and
graciousness. We took up our residence in the _rancho_, or hovel, of a
curious old Spaniard, who had served with Napoleon in the expedition
against Russia.
[5] I am bound to express, in the strongest terms, my obligation to
the government of Buenos Ayres for the obliging manner in which
passports to all parts of the country were given me, as naturalist of
the _Beagle._
We stayed two days at the Colorado; I had little to do, for the
surrounding country was a swamp, which in summer (December), when the
snow melts on the Cordillera, is overflowed by the river. My chief
amusement was watching the Indian families as they came to buy little
articles at the rancho where we stayed. It was supposed that General
Rosas had about six hundred Indian allies. The men were a tall, fine
race, yet it was afterwards easy to see in the Fuegian savage the same
countenance rendered hideous by cold, want of food, and less
civilisation.
[Illustration]
Some authors, in defining the primary races of mankind, have separated
these Indians into two classes; but this is certainly incorrect. Among
the young women or chinas, some deserve to be called even beautiful.
Their hair was coarse, but bright and black; and they wore it in two
plaits hanging down to the waist. They had a high colour, and eyes that
glistened with brilliancy; their legs, feet, and arms were small and
elegantly formed; their ankles, and sometimes their waists, were
ornamented by broad bracelets of blue beads. Nothing could be more
interesting than some of the family groups. A mother with one or two
daughters would often come to our rancho, mounted on the same horse.
They ride like men, but with their knees tucked up much higher. This
habit, perhaps, arises from their being accustomed, when travelling, to
ride the loaded horses. The duty of the women is to load and unload the
horses; to make the tents for the night; in short to be, like the wives
of all savages, useful slaves. The men fight, hunt, take care of the
horses, and
make the riding gear. One of their chief indoor occupations is to knock
two stones together till they become round, in order to make the bolas.
With this important weapon the Indian catches his game, and also his
horse, which roams free over the plain. In fighting, his first attempt
is to throw down the horse of his adversary with the bolas, and when
entangled by the fall to kill him with the chuzo. If the balls only
catch the neck or body of an animal, they are often carried away and
lost. As the making the stones round is the labour of two days, the
manufacture of the balls is a very common employment. Several of the
men and women had their faces painted red, but I never saw the
horizontal bands which are so common among the Fuegians. Their chief
pride consists in having everything made of silver; I have seen a
cacique with his spurs, stirrups, handle of his knife, and bridle made
of this metal: the head-stall and reins being of wire, were not thicker
than whipcord; and to see a fiery steed wheeling about under the
command of so light a chain, gave to the horsemanship a remarkable
character of elegance.
[Illustration]
General Rosas intimated a wish to see me; a circumstance which I was
afterwards very glad of. He is a man of an extraordinary character, and
has a most predominant influence in the country, which it seems
probable he will use
to its prosperity and advancement.[6] He is said to be the owner of
seventy-four square leagues of land, and to have about three hundred
thousand head of cattle. His estates are admirably managed, and are far
more productive of corn than those of others. He first gained his
celebrity by his laws for his own estancias, and by disciplining
several hundred men, so as to resist with success the attacks of the
Indians. There are many stories current about the rigid manner in which
his laws were enforced. One of these was, that no man, on penalty of
being put into the stocks, should carry his knife on a Sunday: this
being the principal day for gambling and drinking, many quarrels arose,
which from the general manner of fighting with the knife often proved
fatal.
[6] This prophecy has turned out entirely and miserably wrong. 1845.
One Sunday the Governor came in great form to pay the estancia a visit,
and General Rosas, in his hurry, walked out to receive him with his
knife, as usual, stuck in his belt. The steward touched his arm, and
reminded him of the law; upon which turning to the Governor, he said he
was extremely sorry, but that he must go into the stocks, and that till
let out, he possessed no power even in his own house. After a little
time the steward was persuaded to open the stocks, and to let him out,
but no sooner was this done, than he turned to the steward and said,
“You now have broken the laws, so you must take my place in the
stocks.” Such actions as these delighted the Gauchos, who all possess
high notions of their own equality and dignity.
General Rosas is also a perfect horseman—an accomplishment of no small
consequence in a country where an assembled army elected its general by
the following trial: A troop of unbroken horses being driven into a
corral, were let out through a gateway, above which was a cross-bar: it
was agreed whoever should drop from the bar on one of these wild
animals, as it rushed out, and should be able, without saddle or
bridle, not only to ride it, but also to bring it back to the door of
the corral, should be their general. The person who succeeded was
accordingly elected; and doubtless made a fit general for such an army.
This extraordinary feat has also been performed by Rosas.
By these means, and by conforming to the dress and habits
of the Gauchos, he has obtained an unbounded popularity in the country,
and in consequence a despotic power. I was assured by an English
merchant, that a man who had murdered another, when arrested and
questioned concerning his motive, answered, “He spoke disrespectfully
of General Rosas, so I killed him.” At the end of a week the murderer
was at liberty. This doubtless was the act of the general’s party, and
not of the general himself.
In conversation he is enthusiastic, sensible, and very grave. His
gravity is carried to a high pitch: I heard one of his mad buffoons
(for he keeps two, like the barons of old) relate the following
anecdote. “I wanted very much to hear a certain piece of music, so I
went to the general two or three times to ask him; he said to me, ‘Go
about your business, for I am engaged.’ I went a second time; he said,
‘If you come again I will punish you.’ A third time I asked, and he
laughed. I rushed out of the tent, but it was too late—he ordered two
soldiers to catch and stake me. I begged by all the saints in heaven he
would let me off; but it would not do,—when the general laughs he
spares neither mad man nor sound.” The poor flighty gentleman looked
quite dolorous, at the very recollection of the staking. This is a very
severe punishment; four posts are driven into the ground, and the man
is extended by his arms and legs horizontally, and there left to
stretch for several hours. The idea is evidently taken from the usual
method of drying hides. My interview passed away without a smile, and I
obtained a passport and order for the government post-horses, and this
he gave me in the most obliging and ready manner.
In the morning we started for Bahia Blanca, which we reached in two
days. Leaving the regular encampment, we passed by the toldos of the
Indians. These are round like ovens, and covered with hides; by the
mouth of each, a tapering chuzo was stuck in the ground. The toldos
were divided into separate groups, which belonged to the different
caciques’ tribes, and the groups were again divided into smaller ones,
according to the relationship of the owners. For several miles we
travelled along the valley of the Colorado. The alluvial plains on the
side appeared fertile, and it is supposed that they are well adapted to
the growth of corn.
Turning northward from the river, we soon entered on a country,
differing from the plains south of the river. The land still continued
dry and sterile: but it supported many different kinds of plants, and
the grass, though brown and withered, was more abundant, as the thorny
bushes were less so. These latter in a short space entirely
disappeared, and the plains were left without a thicket to cover their
nakedness. This change in the vegetation marks the commencement of the
grand calcareo-argillaceous deposit, which forms the wide extent of the
Pampas, and covers the granitic rocks of Banda Oriental. From the
Strait of Magellan to the Colorado, a distance of about eight hundred
miles, the face of the country is everywhere composed of shingle: the
pebbles are chiefly of porphyry, and probably owe their origin to the
rocks of the Cordillera. North of the Colorado this bed thins out, and
the pebbles become exceedingly small, and here the characteristic
vegetation of Patagonia ceases.
Having ridden about twenty-five miles, we came to a broad belt of
sand-dunes, which stretches, as far as the eye can reach, to the east
and west. The sand-hillocks resting on the clay, allow small pools of
water to collect, and thus afford in this dry country an invaluable
supply of fresh water. The great advantage arising from depressions and
elevations of the soil, is not often brought home to the mind. The two
miserable springs in the long passage between the Rio Negro and
Colorado were caused by trifling inequalities in the plain, without
them not a drop of water would have been found. The belt of sand-dunes
is about eight miles wide; at some former period, it probably formed
the margin of a grand estuary, where the Colorado now flows. In this
district, where absolute proofs of the recent elevation of the land
occur, such speculations can hardly be neglected by any one, although
merely considering the physical geography of the country. Having
crossed the sandy tract, we arrived in the evening at one of the
post-houses; and, as the fresh horses were grazing at a distance we
determined to pass the night there.
The house was situated at the base of a ridge between one and two
hundred feet high—a most remarkable feature in this country. This posta
was commanded by a negro lieutenant,
born in Africa: to his credit be it said, there was not a ranche
between the Colorado and Buenos Ayres in nearly such neat order as his.
He had a little room for strangers, and a small corral for the horses,
all made of sticks and reeds; he had also dug a ditch round his house
as a defence in case of being attacked. This would, however, have been
of little avail, if the Indians had come; but his chief comfort seemed
to rest in the thought of selling his life dearly. A short time before,
a body of Indians had travelled past in the night; if they had been
aware of the posta, our black friend and his four soldiers would
assuredly have been slaughtered. I did not anywhere meet a more civil
and obliging man than this negro; it was therefore the more painful to
see that he would not sit down and eat with us.
In the morning we sent for the horses very early, and started for
another exhilarating gallop. We passed the Cabeza del Buey, an old name
given to the head of a large marsh, which extends from Bahia Blanca.
Here we changed horses, and passed through some leagues of swamps and
saline marshes. Changing horses for the last time, we again began
wading through the mud. My animal fell, and I was well soused in black
mire—a very disagreeable accident, when one does not possess a change
of clothes. Some miles from the fort we met a man, who told us that a
great gun had been fired, which is a signal that Indians are near. We
immediately left the road, and followed the edge of a marsh, which when
chased offers the best mode of escape. We were glad to arrive within
the walls, when we found all the alarm was about nothing, for the
Indians turned out to be friendly ones, who wished to join General
Rosas.
Bahia Blanca scarcely deserves the name of a village. A few houses and
the barracks for the troops are enclosed by a deep ditch and fortified
wall. The settlement is only of recent standing (since 1828); and its
growth has been one of trouble. The government of Buenos Ayres unjustly
occupied it by force, instead of following the wise example of the
Spanish Viceroys, who purchased the land near the older settlement of
the Rio Negro, from the Indians. Hence the need of the fortifications;
hence the few houses and little cultivated land without the limits of
the walls; even the cattle are not safe from the
attacks of the Indians beyond the boundaries of the plain on which the
fortress stands.
The part of the harbour where the _Beagle_ intended to anchor being
distant twenty-five miles, I obtained from the Commandant a guide and
horses, to take me to see whether she had arrived. Leaving the plain of
green turf, which extended along the course of a little brook, we soon
entered on a wide level waste consisting either of sand, saline
marshes, or bare mud. Some parts were clothed by low thickets, and
others with those succulent plants which luxuriate only where salt
abounds. Bad as the country was, ostriches, deers, agoutis, and
armadilloes, were abundant. My guide told me, that two months before he
had a most narrow escape of his life: he was out hunting with two other
men, at no great distance from this part of the country, when they were
suddenly met by a party of Indians, who giving chase, soon overtook and
killed his two friends. His own horse’s legs were also caught by the
bolas, but he jumped off, and with his knife cut them free: while doing
this he was obliged to dodge round his horse, and received two severe
wounds from their chuzos. Springing on the saddle, he managed, by a
most wonderful exertion, just to keep ahead of the long spears of his
pursuers, who followed him to within sight of the fort. From that time
there was an order that no one should stray far from the settlement. I
did not know of this when I started, and was surprised to observe how
earnestly my guide watched a deer, which appeared to have been
frightened from a distant quarter.
We found the _Beagle_ had not arrived, and consequently set out on our
return, but the horses soon tiring, we were obliged to bivouac on the
plain. In the morning we had caught an armadillo, which, although a
most excellent dish when roasted in its shell, did not make a very
substantial breakfast and dinner for two hungry men. The ground at the
place where we stopped for the night was incrusted with a layer of
sulphate of soda, and hence, of course, was without water. Yet many of
the smaller rodents managed to exist even here, and the tucutuco was
making its odd little grunt beneath my head, during half the night. Our
horses were very poor ones, and in
the morning they were soon exhausted from not having had anything to
drink, so that we were obliged to walk. About noon the dogs killed a
kid, which we roasted. I ate some of it, but it made me intolerably
thirsty. This was the more distressing as the road, from some recent
rain, was full of little puddles of clear water, yet not a drop was
drinkable. I had scarcely been twenty hours without water, and only
part of the time under a hot sun, yet the thirst rendered me very weak.
How people survive two or three days under such circumstances, I cannot
imagine: at the same time, I must confess that my guide did not suffer
at all, and was astonished that one day’s deprivation should be so
troublesome to me.
I have several times alluded to the surface of the ground being
incrusted with salt. This phenomenon is quite different from that of
the salinas, and more extraordinary. In many parts of South America,
wherever the climate is moderately dry, these incrustations occur; but
I have nowhere seen them so abundant as near Bahia Blanca. The salt
here, and in other parts of Patagonia, consists chiefly of sulphate of
soda with some common salt. As long as the ground remains moist in the
salitrales (as the Spaniards improperly call them, mistaking this
substance for saltpetre), nothing is to be seen but an extensive plain
composed of a black, muddy soil, supporting scattered tufts of
succulent plants. On returning through one of these tracts, after a
week’s hot weather, one is surprised to see square miles of the plain
white, as if from a slight fall of snow, here and there heaped up by
the wind into little drifts. This latter appearance is chiefly caused
by the salts being drawn up, during the slow evaporation of the
moisture, round blades of dead grass, stumps of wood, and pieces of
broken earth, instead of being crystallised at the bottoms of the
puddles of water.
The salitrales occur either on level tracts elevated only a few feet
above the level of the sea, or on alluvial land bordering rivers. M.
Parchappe[7] found that the saline incrustation on the plain, at the
distance of some miles from the sea, consisted chiefly of sulphate of
soda, with only seven per cent of common salt; whilst nearer to the
coast, the
common salt increased to 37 parts in a hundred. This circumstance would
tempt one to believe that the sulphate of soda is generated in the
soil, from the muriate left on the surface during the slow and recent
elevation of this dry country. The whole phenomenon is well worthy the
attention of naturalists. Have the succulent, salt-loving plants, which
are well known to contain much soda, the power of decomposing the
muriate? Does the black fetid mud, abounding with organic matter, yield
the sulphur and ultimately the sulphuric acid?
[7] _Voyage dans l’Amérique Mérid._ par M. A. d’Orbigny. Part. Hist.,
tome i, p. 664.
Two days afterwards I again rode to the harbour: when not far from our
destination, my companion, the same man as before, spied three people
hunting on horseback. He immediately dismounted, and watching them
intently, said, “They don’t ride like Christians, and nobody can leave
the fort.” The three hunters joined company, and likewise dismounted
from their horses. At last one mounted again and rode over the hill out
of sight. My companion said, “We must now get on our horses: load your
pistol;” and he looked to his own sword. I asked, “Are they
Indians?”—“Quien sabe? (who knows?) if there are no more than three, it
does not signify.” It then struck me, that the one man had gone over
the hill to fetch the rest of his tribe. I suggested this; but all the
answer I could extort was, “Quien sabe?” His head and eye never for a
minute ceased scanning slowly the distant horizon. I thought his
uncommon coolness too good a joke, and asked him why he did not return
home. I was startled when he answered, “We are returning, but in a line
so as to pass near a swamp, into which we can gallop the horses as far
as they can go, and then trust to our own legs; so that there is no
danger.” I did not feel quite so confident of this, and wanted to
increase our pace. He said, “No, not until they do.” When any little
inequality concealed us, we galloped; but when in sight, continued
walking. At last we reached a valley, and turning to the left, galloped
quickly to the foot of a hill; he gave me his horse to hold, made the
dogs lie down, and then crawled on his hands and knees to reconnoitre.
He remained in this position for some time, and at last, bursting out
in laughter, exclaimed, “Mugeres!” (women!) He knew
them to be the wife and sister-in-law of the major’s son, hunting for
ostrich’s eggs.
I have described this man’s conduct, because he acted under the full
impression that they were Indians. As soon, however, as the absurd
mistake was found out, he gave me a hundred reasons why they could not
have been Indians; but all these were forgotten at the time. We then
rode on in peace and quietness to a low point called Punta Alta, whence
we could see nearly the whole of the great harbour of Bahia Blanca.
The wide expanse of water is choked up by numerous great mudbanks,
which the inhabitants call Cangrejales, or _ crabberies_, from the
number of small crabs. The mud is so soft that it is impossible to walk
over them, even for the shortest distance. Many of the banks have their
surfaces covered with long rushes, the tops of which alone are visible
at high water. On one occasion, when in a boat, we were so entangled by
these shallows that we could hardly find our way. Nothing was visible
but the flat beds of mud; the day was not very clear, and there was
much refraction, or, as the sailors expressed it, “things loomed high.”
The only object within our view which was not level was the horizon;
rushes looked like bushes unsupported in the air, and water like
mudbanks, and mudbanks like water.
We passed the night in Punta Alta, and I employed myself in searching
for fossil bones; this point being a perfect catacomb for monsters of
extinct races. The evening was perfectly calm and clear; the extreme
monotony of the view gave it an interest even in the midst of mudbanks
and gulls, sand-hillocks and solitary vultures. In riding back in the
morning we came across a very fresh track of a Puma, but did not
succeed in finding it. We saw also a couple of Zorillos, or
skunks,—odious animals, which are far from uncommon. In general
appearance the Zorillo resembles a polecat, but it is rather larger,
and much thicker in proportion. Conscious of its power, it roams by day
about the open plain, and fears neither dog nor man. If a dog is urged
to the attack, its courage is instantly checked by a few drops of the
fetid oil, which brings on violent sickness and running at the nose.
Whatever is once polluted by it, is for ever useless. Azara
says the smell can be perceived at a league distant; more than once,
when entering the harbour of Monte Video, the wind being off shore, we
have perceived the odour on board the _Beagle._ Certain it is, that
every animal most willingly makes room for the Zorillo.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]