ROUND THE HORN--THE PATAGONIANS.
A week after our experience at the bull-fight, we were ready for sea. It
was an easier matter, however, to be ready for sea, than to be able to
get to sea. For several of John Bull's cruisers were watching for us
just outside the harbor, determined, if possible, to put a stop to
further depredations on British commerce as far as we were concerned.
But, on a stormy night in the early part of August, Captain Joker
determined to make an attempt to run the blockade. All the men were
quietly posted at quarters, and we started, cautiously hugging the land
on the south side of the bay. We got along capitally till we reached the
mouth of the harbor. Here we almost ran into a man-o'-war. The night was
so dark that you couldn't see your hand before your face. We just saw
her lantern in time to bring our helm hard-a-port. As it was, we grazed
her stern with our bowsprit.
"What ship is that?" was immediately bawled from the man-o'-war.
"British sloop-of-war Achilles," sung out Captain Joker. "What ship is
that?"
"The Hercules."
"All right!"
We passed on, holding our breaths, and were soon out of reach.
But we were scarcely two miles out to sea, when the signal lantern of
another of our blockaders appeared, and a shot was fired across our
bows. But we kept straight on our way without paying the least attention
to it. Another shot followed us as harmlessly as its predecessor, but a
third struck the taffrail of our stern, sending up a shower of
splinters.
"Blast 'em! blaze away with the Long Tom!" cried our little captain,
getting in considerable of a tantrum for such a good natured fellow.
Bang! went the long brass swivel, and a flash from the enemy's guns,
immediately afterward, let us see our ball strike her fair and broad in
the starboard bow. We gave her one more compliment of a similar
character, and then kept on our way, without further molestation, for we
could easily outsail anything the enemy could bring against us.
It was the beginning of a tempest which raged with but little
intermission, for several days; and we were kept hard at work, as a
consequence. It let up, however, when we had reached a latitude far down
the coast. We here had the satisfaction of capturing two richly-laden
brigs from Valparaiso, which more than compensated us for our
privations.
It had been decided, at first, to double the Horn, but as the weather
bade fair to be more than commonly bad, we entered the Straits of
Magellan, intending to gain the Pacific by this avenue. There was more
danger attended by this route than by the Horn, as it was quite probable
that we should meet some armed vessel of the enemy. In view of this
probability, Captain Joker decided to make no captures while in the
straits, however tempting an opportunity might offer, in order to disarm
suspicion, if we should happen to fall in with a man-o'-war.
The Straits of Magellan--that broad avenue between the southern portion
of the South American Continent and Terra del Fuego--links the Atlantic
and Pacific Oceans by a fine channel, deep enough for the largest ship
that floats. It is a wild and dreary scene. On both sides of the straits
the character of the shore is eminently precipitous and inhospitable.
The great cliffs of black granite rise from the water's edge, in most
places, to a great hight, sparsely grown with stunted trees and a
description of rank grass. The climate is almost always cold and dismal,
with something falling all the time--snow or rain.
The impression produced upon the mind of the rover, when, for the first
time, he views these remote and cheerless scenes, is one that can never
be effaced. One of the first queries which one makes to himself is, "How
can anything--man or beast--live in the region of desolation and gloom?"
Yet inhabitants there are, of both species.
It was snowing furiously as we entered the straits, and we had not
proceeded far, with the Patagonian coast in view, before we saw an
immense flock of ostriches on the high table-land, looking down at us in
a very curious way. Something, however, occurred to frighten them, and
away they went, vanishing inland. These South American ostriches are not
quite so large as their brothers of tropical Africa; but they seem to be
stronger. Their legs are much thicker, and their wings are so small as
hardly to appear at all, being concealed under the heavy feathers of the
side. They run with great speed, outstripping the swiftest racer. They
seem to resemble the cassowaries of Southeastern Asia more than the
ostriches of the Sahara, and are not nearly so valuable as the latter
for their plumage.
We also saw some wolves before the day was over. We lay up for the
night, under the shelter of the high cliffs of the Terra del Fuego side
of the straits. It blew strong during the night, and was so cold that we
suffered considerably. The next morning a boat expedition was started,
to obtain some wood. I was along, and Tony Trybrace was in command. We
rowed up an inlet which deeply indented the coast, in order to find, if
possible, a landing-place, where wood could be obtained.
The scenery of Terra del Fuego is, if possible, more desolate and
cheerless than the opposite side of the straits. It was the very
incarnation of gloomy solitude, as we pulled up the narrow inlet, with
the high, rocky cliffs on either side; and I felt a sensation of
loneliness and awe creep over me as the ship was shut from our view. The
very waters through which we glided appeared black and somber--there was
nothing of the glad coast greenness, or of the true sea-blue about it.
Now and then a lone eagle would rise from some jagged crag, and soar
over us with a hungry scream, which only served to render the solitude
more impressive and solemn.
It was up this inlet that we saw human inhabitants for the first time
since entering the straits.
The Indians of Terra del Fuego are nothing like so formidable in size as
their brethren of Patagonia. In fact, they are rather below than above
the medium size of humanity. They are extremely filthy in their habits.
"As for their customs," as the midshipman said, "they are
incomprehensible; and as for their manners, they haven't got any."
They live in wretched habitations, which are semi-subterraneous, and are
partially dressed in the skins of wild beasts--mostly of wolves and
foxes.
As we rowed up the estuary, quite a number of these savages appeared
upon the rocks to our left, and greeted us with friendly gestures. As
we, soon after, descried a favorable landing-place, we made for the
shore, and, as soon as we were on it, were surrounded by upward of fifty
Indians. We took good care to keep together, with an eye always on our
arms, for we did not know what treachery might be preparing for us. But
we wronged these savages in our suspicions. They were of an exceedingly
mild disposition, and manifested no other feeling for us than
friendship, though the curiosity with which they examined our clothes
and arms was rather annoying. They had evidently seen but few white men,
as the Straits of Magellan were not frequently visited by vessels in
those days. One of the young lady Terra del Fuegans, who appeared to be
quite a "belle" among her companions, took quite a fancy to me. She
examined my hands with wonder, but, upon pushing up my sleeve and
viewing the whiteness of my arm, she was much struck at my appearance,
and greeted me with a torrent of questions in her native lingo, which
must surpass the Chinese in incomprehensibility, I think. These people
are not devoid of a certain frankness of expression, which commends them
to the notice of the stranger. They have a mild, placid look, but, when
angry, give tokens of the most furious tempers. They are armed with bows
and arrows and rude spears, and live to a large extent upon fish and
shell-fish. The latter are procurable in large numbers, and the former
are generally captured by means of the spear, after the manner of the
Northern tribes of North American Indians. The males and females dress
precisely alike--the garment generally consisting of a loose robe of
skins, reaching from the neck to the feet--and this, together with a
very slight dissimilarity of facial characteristics, renders it
difficult to distinguish the two sexes apart. One very praiseworthy
quality in these Indians--in strong contradistinction to the savages of
North America--is displayed in their almost universal contempt for
trinkets. They do not seem to care a button for any ornament--unless it
comes in the shape of a piece of useful clothing--while any gift which
they can put to immediate use is received with exuberant tokens of
delight and satisfaction.
One of our men offered to one of the chiefs a large, bright naval
button, when it was discarded with contempt, with the single comment of
"_waywoo nexel_," which, by a free translation, may be rendered into
"What is it good for?" "It is pretty, but worthless." Whereas, a large
nail which was offered by another of the men, was delightedly accepted,
with a profusion of thanks.
There was some utility in _this_. It might be fashioned into a spear or
arrow-head, or crooked for a hook to hang dried fish on. And it was,
therefore, far more valuable to the simple natives than the brightest
ornament of gold or precious stones.
We gathered our boat full of wood--such as it was--which we cut and
collected from the dwarf forests in the vicinity, and in a few hours
were ready to take our departure. I do not know whether they had ever
seen a ship, but, by some intuitive faculty, they seemed to conjecture
that we hadn't come all the way from the other side of the world in the
long boat--that there must be a vessel of larger proportions somewhere
in our vicinity, and they all wanted to accompany us on board the ship.
Strange to say, these natives are very poor boatmen. They are almost
devoid of any water conveyance.
We could not accommodate all of them, so they deputed one of their
number--quite a lad--to accompany us. He got in at the bow, we followed,
and pushed off, with our load of fuel, having a much better opinion of
the natives than before.
It was worth a long journey to witness the wonder and awe of our little
passenger upon first beholding the Queer Fish, as she lay at anchor in
the straits. At first the solemnity of the thing kept him silent. His
feelings of awe, however, gradually wore off, and he began to clap his
hands and utter wild exclamations at everything he saw. When on board of
the ship, he danced about in perfect ecstasy. We had a great deal of fun
with him, and the captain offered him a glass of grog, "just to see," to
use the skipper's own language, "how civilized the youngster was." Upon
the latter's rejecting the liquor in unutterable disgust, Joker
unhesitatingly declared him to be in the lowest depths of primitive
barbarism.
The next day, after putting our guest ashore--much to his
dissatisfaction--we proceeded westward through the straits. In two days
we arrived at the western extremity, without encountering a solitary
ship. It was here that I met with quite an adventure.
I was again a member of a boat expedition to procure wood, and as we
had seen a good many animals on the rocks, I, together with several
others, provided myself with a musket and ammunition, in hopes of
procuring something edible in the way of game.
So, after we had loaded our boat, those who had guns--myself among
them--started off in different directions through the rocks and woods.
For my part, I struck a bee-line inland, through the scrub trees, and
had not proceeded more than a mile or so when I sighted a small grayish
fox, and brought him to a standstill with a bullet through his skull. It
occurred in a singularly gloomy and dreary sort of dingle or ravine,
surrounded by frowning rocks and ragged trees. I hastened forward to
secure my prey, but, just as I was bending down to pick it up, a deep
growl startled me, and upon looking up I perceived a monstrous gray
wolf, who was approaching me with a hungry and ferocious aspect. Almost
immediately I perceived several more of the same ugly customers
approaching from the summit of the ridge. I had neglected to reload my
gun, and was somewhat taken aback by this strange apparition. But I have
seldom been at a loss for expedients in times of peril. I now snatched
up the carcass of the little fox, and tossed it at the wolf to attract
his attention, at the same time springing to a scrub-oak, which I
succeeded in climbing, bringing my gun with me.
No sooner was I safely ensconced in the crotch of the tree, than I saw
myself surrounded by a pack of at least fifty of the gaunt, ferocious
beasts, who had gobbled up the little fox in the twinkling of an
eye--more or less--and now seemed especially thirsty for my blood. To my
further dismay, I now saw a large reinforcement of wolves coming at a
brisk trot over the opposite ridge. You see, I was considerably uneasy
in my mind, on account of the lowness of the tree. I straddled the
crotch, and my feet swung, at most, only six feet from _terra firma_,
and there wasn't much chance of standing on my feet without dropping my
gun. I was debating the grave question in my mind as to whether the
wolves were spry enough to leap as high as my feet, when the biggest
"varmint" among them dissolved all dubiousness on the subject by taking
a short run and a flying leap at my feet. He missed them by about six
inches, and his teeth gnashed together with a most villainous snap. He
made several more trials, as did some others of the pack, but as they
could not succeed in coming any nearer, I felt easier in my mind on this
score. The entire pack then surrounded me, gazing up at me wistfully, as
at a dainty piece of meat hung beyond their reach, and set up a
prolonged, dismal howl.
I forgot all about my gun at first. The strangeness of my situation, as
well as its peril, lay upon my spirit like a spell. Can you imagine
anything more ridiculously lonesome and desolate than a Yankee tar treed
in the middle of Terra del Fuego by a pack of unreasonable, gigantic and
hungry wolves? I can't. I believe I would as lief climb the North Pole
and take a lonely roost on its summit.
Presently, however, I remembered that I had a musket and a large
quantity of ammunition; and the idea occurred to me that, as the wolves
were hungry, I had better feed them on each other, as the most
charitable course I could pursue.
So, having found a niche in the trunk of the tree, just below my right
foot, where I could securely rest my gun, I rapidly reloaded. Having
done so, I took a steady aim, and knocked over the biggest, ugliest
rascal I could see. No sooner did the other wolves see and scent the
running blood of their comrade than they rushed upon him with joyful
yells and rapidly tore him to pieces--for many mouths make light work,
as well as many hands. As soon as this was disposed of I shot another,
which was also instantly devoured. So I went on, knocking them down as
fast as I could reload, and rarely missing my aim. But the voracity of
the infernal brutes seemed to have no end, and fresh squads kept coming
in from every side, until I began to think that it was incumbent upon me
to fill the stomachs of the entire wolf population. I destroyed fifty of
them, if I did one, and yet they yelped for more, as if they hadn't had
a meal in six weeks. Only having about ten charges left, I now ceased
firing for a while, sincerely hoping that the wolves would leave me in
peace. But they had not the remotest idea of doing anything of the kind.
I remained six mortal hours a prisoner in the crotch of that miserable
tree. At length, however, as it began to grow dark, I began to be
alarmed, and recommenced my firing, in the hope that it would bring my
comrades to the rescue. By the blessing of Providence, they did at last
hear me, and I was saved. I shall never forget the thrill of deep joy
with which I heard their encouraging cheer, as they advanced to the
rescue, over the summit of the eastern ridge. They numbered a dozen
stout fellows, each armed with a musket, led on in solid column by
little Tony Trybrace. A loud shout of laughter burst from their lips
upon perceiving the ridiculous position in which I was placed. But their
merriment was something that I was little disposed to join in.
Nevertheless they advanced resolutely forward, pouring destructive
volleys into the bewildered wolves, who now began to scatter in every
direction. And, in a few moments not a live one was to be seen.
I slid down from the tree as lively as possible, and told the story of
my adventures; but they had to support me to the boat, as I was so weak
from the cramped position I had so long maintained, that I could hardly
use my legs at all.
That was the last of my experience in Terra del Fuego. The next morning
we sailed northward, skirting the western coast of Patagonia.
The water which we had taken on board at Rio having proved of very
inferior quality, the captain decided to make a stop somewhere on the
Patagonian coast--where the water is very delicious--in order to refill
the casks. In several days we arrived at Wellington Island. This is a
long, narrow, almost herbless island on the western coast, about midway
between the Island of Chiloe and the western extremity of the Straits of
Magellan. There is quite an archipelago here, there being a continuous
line of islands stretching along almost the entire coast. Keeping the
southern extremity of Wellington Island on our left, we steered in
toward the coast, and soon made an excellent natural harbor on the
mainland.
The country here is not nearly so bleak as down at the straits. There is
quite a spontaneous growth of grass, forests of oak, beech and cedar;
and I was told that there were extensive grassy plains inland. Indeed,
there must be something of the kind to feed the large numbers of horses
and guanacos (a wool-growing beast, a sort of Patagonian llama) that
roam the wastes, many of which we saw, even on the coast, which is rocky
and bold. You can't say much for the climate, even in antithesis to
Terra del Fuego. It is simply, universally, equably wretched. It rains
all the time, with no cessation at all. At least, it did while we were
there, and the natives assured us that it always rained. They did not
know what a dry day was, and laughed heartily when told of countries
where the sun frequently deigned to smile for an entire day at a
stretch.
We remained at our anchorage off the mainland for nearly a week, and as
there were plenty of natives in the vicinity, we had an excellent
opportunity of observing them, which we were glad to improve. The coast
of this remote region was not visited in those days, except at rare
intervals. Some few adventurous navigators had explored the seas and
inlets to some extent; but to most of the natives whom we met, we were
as strange a race as though we had dropped from the sky.
Many erroneous ideas were then, and are to the present day, entertained
with regard to the inhabitants of Patagonia. They were represented as of
gigantic proportions, herculean strength and ferocious and cannibalistic
propensities. Nothing of the kind. It is true, they are a very tall
race. I have seen them as high as seven feet. But six feet four inches
is not considered dwarfish, even in Patagonia. I am told that the
natives of the west coast are the shortest of the different races of
Patagonia, and that those of the most easterly and central regions are
of an average hight of seven feet, frequently attaining a still loftier
growth. This is doubtless true, as it comes from sources that should be
authentic. But those of the west coast are as I have indicated. They are
also very bulky of body, but their limbs are quite disproportionate, and
I do not think them equal to the Caucasian race in point of physique. As
in the case of the Terra del Fuegans, the men and women dress alike, are
of almost equal hight, and are with difficulty distinguished from each
other. They dress in long, loose robes, reaching nearly to the feet.
They are excellent horsemen, and skillful hunters with their spears.
They are also expert with the bow and arrow. The principal game consists
of horses (large herds of which range the country), ostriches and
guanacos, which we have already described as being a species of llama.
Besides these, there is a species of hare, several kinds of edible
birds, and shellfish are most abundant on all parts of the coast. The
latter is one of the principal articles of food, and the manner of
obtaining the oysters, clams and mussels is excessively primitive. The
women dive for them. As the climate is very cold, the privations which
these poor creatures undergo to supply the appetites of their selfish
lords with the luscious bivalves are very great. The water is always of
icy temperature. I have seen these poor women kept in the sea for an
hour diving for mussels, and, when they were permitted to come out, they
were so benumbed as to be hardly able to stand. As soon as they come out
of the sea, they are carried in front of blazing fires, where they are
gradually thawed into their normal state. I think this must be a main
cause for the paucity of the inhabitants of this coast. If they increase
in population at all, it must be very tardily. The women, on account of
these cruel privations they undergo, are seldom so long lived as the
men. Some of them are not devoid of beauty, but, as with our own
savages, an excessive prominence of features is the ruling facial
characteristic.
Another article of food which is much prized, is a species of wild
celery which grows in great quantities along the coast. It makes an
excellent salad, and is the only vegetable I saw in use among the
natives. The people are very similar in disposition to their brethren of
the Cape. Their voices are sometimes of surprising sweetness, although
the language they use is harsh and unmusical. They are usually of a mild
and serene temperament, but, when thoroughly aroused, exhibit passions
of an ungovernable fury, which I have never seen equaled outside of
Africa. Unlike the Terra del Fuegans, they are a nomadic race. They
wander from place to place, engaged in hunting and fishing, and in the
course of a year probably traverse a distance of many hundred miles.
Their lodges consist of skins, sticks and earth, and are, owing to their
temporary occupation, less substantial than those of the Fuegans, but,
from what I saw, I should judge that the Patagonians are a much cleaner
people.
We were on very friendly terms with them, and made them several presents
of a useful character, for which they were duly grateful. In return,
they brought us large quantities of shell-fish and the delicious wild
celery.