During the next few weeks we were busy examining the country in the
vicinity of St. Julian, without finding anything of special interest
to reward our pains. Near the salt lake alluded to in the last chapter
we discovered some extensive deposits of phosphate of lime, but as
they are very far from the port, they must be considered to have
practically no commercial value. Perhaps, however, when all the guanos
and nitrates of more accessible regions have been exhausted, the
phosphates of Patagonia may be utilised for manuring purposes, but in
the interests of agriculture it is to be hoped that that day is as yet
far distant.
St. Julian is a far superior harbour to either Chubut or Port Desire,
but there is a dearth of fresh water in its vicinity during the months
from October to June, which is of course a great drawback, and
neutralises its other advantages. Indeed, the whole country is but
sparsely watered. South of the Rio Negro, which must be considered as
the dividing line between Patagonia and the Argentine Provinces,
there are only small rivers, the Chubut, the Desire, and the Santa
Cruz. Coy Inlet and Gallegos rivers during nine months of the year are
unimportant streams, and the former at certain periods frequently
dries up altogether.
The river Chubut has never been followed to its source by any
trustworthy traveller, but Dr. Moreno, an Argentine explorer, from
personal observations and from information obtained from the natives, is
inclined to place its source as taken from a lake, called Coluguapé by
the Indians, which lies somewhere between lat. 44° to 45° S., and long.
68° to 69° W., Greenwich. Thence it flows in a north-north-easterly
direction till within about sixty miles from its mouth, and then,
having received near this point the waters of several small streams
from the Cordilleras, it flows from west to east, and finally empties
itself into the Atlantic in lat. 42° 20' S. The depth of the river at
forty miles from its mouth varies from five to eight feet, according
to the time of the year. Its current is not so rapid as that of most
Patagonian rivers, but its extremely tortuous course makes it
difficult to navigate. Its estuary forms a tolerably safe harbour for
craft of light draught.
The Welsh Colony at Chubut, which numbers at present about 700 souls,
was founded by the Argentine Government in 1865. It is not, and never
has been, in a flourishing state; but this is due not so much to the
unfertility of the Chubut valley as to the fact that most of the
people sent out from Wales by the Government agent to form the
proposed agricultural colony were miners, who of course knew nothing
about farming matters. For a great many years the colonists were
supported entirely by the Government, and on several occasions when
accidents had happened to the vessels which were bringing stores for
them from Buenos Ayres, they were saved from starvation by the
Indians, who supplied them with guanaco and ostrich meat. At present
the prospects of the colony are rather more hopeful: about 15,000
bushels of wheat were harvested last year; but even now the colony is
not self-supporting, and costs the Argentine Government large sums
annually for provisions and other assistance afforded the colonists.
South of Chubut lies Port Desire, formed by the estuary of the river,
or rather stream, of that name. The Desire does not rise in spring and
summer, like Gallegos and the other Patagonian rivers, to any great
extent--a circumstance which makes it probable that it does not take
its source in the Cordilleras, but rather from a chain of hills,
which, according to Dr. Moreno, traverses the centre of Patagonia,
running south-southwest from the Sierra de San Antonio, near the Gulf
of San Matias. The Spaniards formed a colony at Port Desire, which,
after having existed for a few years, was officially abandoned in
1807. The remains of a fort and some houses are still standing near
the port, as well as some apple and cherry trees, with which the
climate of Patagonia seems to agree very well.
I pass over the incidents of the rest of my sojourn at St. Julian, as
having no relevancy to the object of this work. Suffice it to say that
by the little Government schooner which makes two or three voyages
annually from Buenos Ayres to the Rio Negro and Santa Cruz, and which
on this occasion put into St. Julian to bring us our correspondence, I
received some letters, conveying important news, which made my speedy
return to Buenos Ayres imperative. About the same time a party of
ostrich-hunters, attracted by the smoke of our fires, came to St.
Julian from Santa Cruz, partly out of curiosity to see the unusual
visitors, and partly to trade for biscuits and tobacco. They did not
stop long; and as they were going back to Santa Cruz, and from there
to Sandy Point in the Straits of Magellan, where I should be able to
take a steamer for Buenos Ayres, I embraced this favourable
opportunity, and packing up a few things, started off with my new
acquaintances.
We had not gone far, however, when it commenced to rain; and there
being no particular object in getting wet, we halted for the day, and
took shelter under our tent, hoping that by the next morning it would
be fine again. In this hope we were disappointed; it rained
incessantly for about four days, during which we of course remained
where we were, and very tired I soon got of it. The ground was as damp
as could be, and so loosened by the moisture that the stakes of our
tent gradually gave, and the slack canvas being no longer water-tight,
little pools of water gathered round the furs and saddle-cloths which
served us in lieu of bedding, permeating them with a general dampness,
which made our nightly slumbers rather uncomfortable. The daytime we
passed cowering round the fire, with some covering thrown over our
backs to keep off the rain, the front part of the body requiring no
extra covering, for as fast as it was wetted it dried by the fire,
which for this purpose was allowed to assume formidable dimensions.
Under such unfavourable circumstances, conversation rather flagged, as
may be imagined, being limited to occasional prophecies and
conjectures as to when the weather might be expected to change for the
better. But in revenge, the tobacco-pipe and the maté-pot went round
the circle without any intermission, and during the days of forced
inaction consequent on the rain, we consumed startling quantities of
those two almost indispensable commodities of pampa life.
Yerba-maté is a kind of tea in great repute throughout South America,
especially amongst the country people, who drink it at all their
meals, and whenever they have nothing particular to do, which is very
often. It is the leaf of a shrub (_Ilex Paraguanensis_) extensively
cultivated in Paraguay and the Brazils, constituting, in fact, the
chief article of commerce of the former country. The powdered leaf is
steeped in boiling water, and imbibed through a thin pipe
(_bombilla_), perforated with holes, so as to prevent the fine herb
from being sucked up with the fluid. It has a bitter, aromatic
flavour, and though usually taken with sugar, many find it equally
palatable without the latter adjunct. Its restorative powers are
marvellous, and frequently, when thoroughly exhausted after a hard
day's ride, I have taken a cup or two of maté, and found myself
immediately revived and invigorated. It is decidedly a better
stimulant than either tea or coffee, and as it does not seem to lose
its flavour by exposure to the air and damp as quickly as those
articles do, it is naturally preferred by those whose profession
forces them to take these qualities into account in the selection of
their victuals. Maté, as I have already said, is indispensable to the
hunter in Patagonia. For months it is often the only addition he can
make to his otherwise exclusively meat diet. In fact he is never
without it, except when in the saddest plight, and for its sake he
would forego any other luxury, such as sugar, biscuit, or rice.
It is surprising that hitherto no attempt has been made to introduce
yerba-maté into Europe as an article of domestic consumption. It has
only to be known to be appreciated, and as it could be imported
_pure_, far cheaper than tea or coffee, it might in time prove a
formidable rival to those beverages, especially among the working
classes, to whom its invigorating qualities would particularly
recommend it.
Whilst the rain is pouring down upon us, I may as well take the
opportunity of introducing my four companions to the reader. But first
a few words as to their common profession, that of the ostrich-hunter.
In the plains that stretch from lat. 40° to 53° S., and from the
sea-coast to the Cordilleras, the ostrich and the guanaco roam in
immense numbers, their procreativeness being such as to more than
neutralise the ravages caused among them by their numerous enemies,
such as the Indians, the pumas, and the foxes. The Patagonian ostrich
is much smaller than his African cousin, and the feathers are not
nearly so valuable, the price usually paid for them at Sandy Point
being from $1 to $2 per lb. The trade of the ostrich-hunter is not,
therefore, very lucrative; but his wants, on the other hand, are very
modest. Besides, he follows his profession more from a love of the
wild pampa life, with its freedom from irksome restraint and awkward
social obligations, than from any desire to amass wealth; more from a
necessity to satisfy his vagabond instincts, than from any impulse
derived from some definite aim in life. His hunting-ground extends as
far as he chooses to gallop. His stock-in-trade consists of ten or
twelve hardy horses, five or six dogs of a mongrel greyhound species,
a lasso, a pair of bolas, a knife, a revolver, and a long steel;
besides, of course, all the necessary accoutrements for his horse,
which, together with the indispensable capa, form his bed at night.
The capa is a long robe of guanaco furs, about five and a half feet
long, by four and a half broad. They are made by the Indian women, who
are very clever at sewing, notwithstanding the primitive clumsiness of
their rude tools. Their needles consist of pieces of bone sharpened to
the requisite point, and the thread they use is made from guanaco
sinews. The skins are of the young guanacos before they are three
weeks old, as after that time the fur becomes coarse and woolly. These
capas are extremely warm, and effectually protect one from the cold
winds that blow over the pampas, when almost any other garment would
prove insufficient. A novice experiences considerable difficulty in
the management of their somewhat awkward folds, especially on
horseback; but the Indians wear them with infinite ease and grace.
The bolas, or balls, are of two kinds, being either two round stones
or pieces of lead, covered with leather and joined by a thong of from
six to eight feet long; or three balls, united by thongs to a common
centre. The latter are used chiefly for guanaco-hunting, and not a
little skill is required to handle them efficiently. After having been
swung round the head till the requisite pitch of velocity has been
attained, the balls are hurled at the animal pursued, and becoming
firmly twisted round whatever part of its body they may fall on, they
effectually hamper its speed, and enable the hunter to come up to it
and give the _coup de grace_ with his long knife.
With no other _impedimenta_ than the above-mentioned, the
ostrich-hunter roams at will over the vast pampas. At night-time he
makes himself at home under shelter of some thick bush, which, if such
be his caprice, may become his head-quarters for weeks, and even
months, especially if the game in the vicinity be abundant. His
movements are altogether uncertain, and by no means regulated by any
reference to time, to the course of which he is sublimely indifferent.
The chase supplies all his wants. With the hide of the guanaco he
makes his lasso, reins, bolas, and even shoes; whilst its flesh,
varied by that of the ostrich, forms his staple article of diet. When
he has collected a sufficient quantity of feathers, he pays a flying
visit to Sandy Point, sells them, and with the produce lays in a new
stock of tobacco and maté, renews his wardrobe, _i.e._, say a shirt, a
poncho, a jacket, and a chiripà; and if there still remains anything
over, he may buy another horse, or some dog which may have taken his
fancy.
For the rest, he is a careless, easy-going vagabond, always cheerful,
whatever plight he may be in, and submitting with calm philosophy to
any of the many hardships the inclemency of the climate may entail
upon him. There are, however, few Ostrich-hunters _pur sang_ in
Southern Patagonia, though up near the Rio Negro they are more
numerous; but those one does meet with are all distinguished by the
characteristics I have described.
I will now attempt a sketch of my four companions, beginning with the
most striking among them, Isidoro, who is several times mentioned in
Captain Musters' interesting book, 'At Home with the Patagonians.' He
was an Argentine Gaucho, with a dash of Indian blood in his veins, who
had come down to Patagonia many years ago from the Rio Negro. He was a
slender, well-built man, with a pleasant, swarthy face, of a warm,
earth-brown complexion, set in by a profusion of long black hair,
which he carefully groomed every morning with a comb, whose teeth,
being old, were decayed and few and far between, kept for the purpose
in the recesses of a rather greasy cap. Broad and shaggy eyebrows,
meeting over a bold Roman nose and shading a pair of bright, restless
eyes, habitually veiled by half-closed lids and the longest of lashes;
slightly high cheekbones, full thick lips, and a shaggy beard and
moustache, completed the _tout ensemble_ of his really striking face,
the general expression of which was one of intelligence and good
humour.
His dress, which combined materials of Indian as well as European
manufacture, was not unpicturesque, and consisted of a woollen shirt
and a 'chiripà'--a covering for the lower limbs something like a kilt,
secured by a strap at the waist, into which were stuck the inevitable
hunting-knife, revolver, pipe, and tobacco-pouch--while his feet were
encased in potro boots, tied at the knees with Indian-worked garters;
and over all hung the long capa.
The recipe for making a pair of potro boots is very simple, and the
operation requires no previous knowledge of the cobbler's art. Having
killed your horse, you make an incision with a sharp knife round the
hide above the hock, say at the commencement of the lower thigh, and
another a couple of inches below the curb-place, and then proceed to
draw the hide off the legs. Each leg will thus supply a comfortable
Wellington, in which the point of the hock has become the heel. Of
course, before fit for wear, the hide must be well softened by hand--a
task which requires no little patience; for if not thoroughly done,
the boots after a time will become quite hard and useless. As soon as
they have been worn long enough to have taken the shape of the foot,
the toe-ends are sewn up, and the transformation of your horse's hocks
into easy-fitting boots is an accomplished feat.
When hunting, the belt and bolas are strapped outside the capa, so
that the upper part of the latter may fly loose whenever any exertion
requires that the arms should be free, as when lassoing or throwing
the bolas.
Isidoro was one of the best riders I have ever seen, and even amongst
the Indians he was allowed to have no equal. The most unruly colt
became quiet in his hands, and after a few ineffectual attempts to
dislodge its rider, would sullenly acknowledge the mastery of his firm
hand and easy seat. All his horses were wonders of tameness and
careful and intelligent teaching. His method of taming them I
subsequently had an opportunity of studying, and in due course will
revert to it. He was equally proficient in the use of the lasso and
bolas, seldom, if ever, missing his aim. One of his peculiarities was
his extreme watchfulness; not the slightest detail could escape his
vigilance; and when anyone, as often happened, would mislay a knife or
some such object, to save further trouble, Isidoro was always appealed
to as to its whereabouts, which he would invariably point out
immediately--the missing article often lying under a bush or
saddle-cloth, where it had been thrown by its careless owner perhaps a
day or two ago. It seemed as if Isidoro made it his special duty to
look after everyone's things, though, to judge by appearances, he
never paid particular attention to anything except his pipe, which
seldom left his mouth. His sharpness of vision was intense, and he
could detect guanacos and ostriches on the far horizon, when I could
see nothing but bushes or clouds. Another distinguishing feature was
his taciturnity. Only on very rare occasions have I heard him utter
more than three or four words at a breath, and often he would sit for
hours with the rest of us round the fire, listening attentively to all
that was said, without breathing a syllable the whole evening. As the
owner of some thirty fine horses, he was considered quite a rich man
amongst the Indians and ostrich-hunters; and, on account of his
honesty, good-nature, and quiet, unassuming bearing, he was a
favourite with everyone.
We will pass on to Garcia, who, in appearance at least, formed a
striking contrast to Isidoro. His yellow beard, brown hair, and blue
eyes seemed to betoken a Saxon rather than a Spanish descent. However,
be that as it may, he was a true Gaucho, and but slightly inferior to
Isidoro in horsemanship and general address as a hunter. He had
formerly been a soldier on the Argentine frontiers, and in that
capacity had had many a fight with the Indians, thrilling accounts of
which he would often favour us with over the evening's fire.
Subsequently he had worked as 'tropero' (cattle-driver) on the Rio
Negro, a profession which in due course he had relinquished in order
to become an ostrich-hunter. Having lived more amongst civilised
people, his manners were less abrupt than Isidoro's, and he was rather
more talkative and genial than the latter.
Next comes Guillaume, who was by birth a Frenchman, and who had
originally been a blacksmith; but some chance having wafted him to
Patagonia, he had taken a fancy to the country and remained there, and
was now fast becoming naturalised. He was an active, intelligent
fellow, and equal to any amount of hard work. One of his most striking
features was his enormous appetite, the amount he could devour at one
meal being simply astounding. It is on record amongst his companions
that he demolished a whole side of a young guanaco at a sitting. But
notwithstanding this extraordinary faculty for eating, he was as thin
as could be, and always had a hungry, half-starved look.
His very antithesis was Maximo, the last of the group, who in size and
corpulence might have competed with the most Herculean Patagonian
Indian. He was an Austrian, age twenty, I think, and had formerly been
a sailor, but having been wrecked on the syren shores of Patagonia,
like Guillaume, he had been unable to withstand its subtle
attractions, and having embraced the profession of ostrich-hunting,
with the natural aptness of sailors, he had soon mastered the
mysteries of his craft, and was already an adept in the use of lasso
and bolas. His strength was such as his burly dimensions warranted,
and he would often surprise us by the ease with which he would tear up
firmly-seated roots, and stout underwood for firing purposes. He was,
moreover, as I was surprised to find, an accomplished linguist, and
spoke Spanish, Italian, French, German, and English with tolerable
fluency, though I think he could neither read nor write. His appetite,
like Guillaume's, was Homeric, the two being a host in themselves.
Maximo was not so rich as his companions; indeed, his whole property
consisted in a horse and a dog. The former was a wiry little animal,
and apparently impervious to fatigue; for its owner was by no means a
featherweight, and it was a matter of continued astonishment to me,
how it managed to carry him along, day after day, over tiring hilly
country, with occasional fierce gallops after ostriches, without ever
showing signs of distress. Neither was his attire so elegant or so
comfortable as that of his companions. It consisted, on my first
becoming acquainted with him, of a shirt and a pair of trousers; boots
he had none, but would now and then wear a pair of sabots, made with
the skin of the hind-legs of the guanaco. However, the capa made up
for all defects in dress, and Maximo was perfectly content with things
as they were. Withal he was the best-tempered fellow imaginable, and
the stoic indifference he showed to the discomforts of rain and cold,
and his equanimity under all circumstances, were simply heroic.
As these four men, who by various strange chances had been thrown
together on this desert spot, from such different parts of the world,
were to become my companions during a long period of hardship and
adventure, I have described them at some length, especially as I feel
sure that their peculiar and utterly unconventional mode of life, so
different from that of the ordinary people one meets in everyday
intercourse with the world, will invest them, in the eyes of my
readers, with the same romantic interest with which I regarded them.