The plains of Patagonia, barren as they are, afford sustenance to a
marvellous profusion of animal life, and swarm with countless numbers
of ostriches, guanacos, armadilloes, pumas, foxes, and skunks. But
they are but sparsely peopled by the human race. It may be estimated
that the native population of that vast territory which lies between
the Rio Negro and the Straits of Magellan barely numbers three
thousand souls, and if the mortality among them continues on the same
scale as hitherto, it is to be feared that in a comparatively short
period they will have disappeared altogether from off the face of the
earth, and survive only in memory as a sad illustration of the
remorseless law of the non-survival of the unfitted.
But at no period of its existence as a habitable country can Patagonia
have been well populated; no people would voluntarily choose it for a
permanent abode, as long as they could range unmolested in the more
hospitable regions of the north, and such tribes as have from time to
time elected to brave its inclement climate have in so doing doubtless
only yielded to dire necessity, finding the elements, less formidable
to encounter than the unceasing hostilities of more powerful tribes.
Thus the Tehuelches, as the Indians who at present inhabit the
southern plains are called, have in all probability gradually been
driven to this extreme corner of their continent by the more warlike
but intellectually inferior races of the north, such as the
Araucanians, the Pampas, and others, who in their turn, as
civilisation advances, may perhaps be forced to quit their present
rich pasture-grounds and moderate climate, and fly to the bare plains
of Santa Cruz and St. Julian, eventually to encounter the same fate of
extermination as that which now hangs over the doomed Tehuelche race.
The Tehuelches are divided into two tribes, the Northern and the
Southern. The Northerners are the least numerous, but, on the other
hand, they have the advantage of being less 'civilised' than their
Southern kindred, who, being frequently in contact with the settlers
of Sandy Point, have assimilated not a few of the pleasant vices of
'_los Christianos_,' as all white men are called by them. The
Northerners generally pass the winter at Santa Cruz, and move as
summer comes on towards the Cordilleras. The Southerners range over
the country between Coy Inlet and the straits, and now and then pay a
visit to the settlement at Sandy Point. In customs and language there
is no difference between these two tribes, and in speaking of the
Tehuelches, I must be understood to be referring indiscriminately to
the Northerners and Southerners.
Notwithstanding that the exaggerated accounts of early travellers as
to the stature of the Patagonians have frequently been contradicted
and disproved, a great many people seem still to be firmly impressed
with the idea that the race of giants is not yet extinct, and that it
has for its abode that favoured portion of South America which the
Spaniards christened Patagonia. The truth is that, as regards height,
all that can be said of the Tehuelches is that they are on the average
a tall race, varying in stature from say five feet ten inches to six
feet. Their muscular development and consequent strength, however, are
decidedly abnormal, and in that sense, at all events, they cannot be
denied to possess one of the most important attributes of giants.
I once witnessed a remarkable feat of strength performed by a Northern
Tehuelche of the name of Koloby. He was leading a horse towards the
camp by a lasso, when the animal for some reason or other suddenly
stopped short, and obstinately refused to stir from the spot. After a
few coaxing, but ineffectual tugs at the lasso, Koloby gave a short
grunt of impatience, and then, taking the lasso over his shoulder,
bent forward, seemingly without effort, and dragged the horse by main
force for about twenty yards, notwithstanding its determined attempts
at resistance.
The Tehuelches are on the whole rather good-looking than otherwise,
and the usual expression on their faces is bright and friendly. Their
foreheads are rather low, but not receding, their noses aquiline,
their mouths large and coarse, but their teeth are extremely regular
and dazzlingly white. Their hair, which is long and black, is kept
from falling over their faces by a fillet tied round the head. They
have little hair on the face or body, and even that they eradicate as
much as possible, including the eyebrows, an operation which must
cause no little pain. Why they do this I don't know, except it may be
that they consider it improves their appearance, in which case it
seems that in its application to the 'poor Indian,' the saying '_Il
faut souffrir pour être beau_' loses none of its truth or point. In
addition to this embellishment, some tattoo their arms or chest, but
it does not seem to be the general custom.
Their eyes are small and deeply set; the prominence of the cheekbones
gives great breadth to their faces. The colour of their skin seems to
vary according to the individual, or rather according to the
individual's cleanliness; but as far as I could ascertain, it is of a
reddish-brown, running in some cases more into a yellowish tinge.
Their general carriage is extremely graceful and dignified, and their
manners towards strangers and one another are polite and deferential,
without a trace of servility; in fact, they have a certain well-bred
air of restraint, which is quite impressive, and one never feels
inclined to treat them with that familiarity which is bred of
contempt, or that convenient assumption of superiority which the white
man is so apt to display towards 'niggers.'
I do not wish to incur the charge of attempting to revive the exploded
legend of the 'noble savage' in favour of the Tehuelche race, but I
must say that in general intelligence, gentleness of temper, chastity
of conduct, and conscientious behaviour in their social and domestic
relations, they are immeasurably superior not only to the other South
American indigenous tribes, but also, all their disadvantages being
taken into consideration, to the general run of civilised white men.
Their natural talents are displayed in a marked manner by the rapidity
with which they pick up a new language, and the ease with which they
grasp the totally new ideas which the acquiring of a complex foreign
tongue must necessarily entail on a race whose original range of
thought is of a most limited nature. Amongst the Southern Tehuelches I
met several who spoke Spanish with ready ease, notwithstanding that
they seldom had opportunities of practising it. There was one Indian,
who called himself Captain Johnson, who surprised me very much when I
first met him by asking me, with a round British oath, for 'a plug of
tobacco.' Further conversation brought out that many years before he
had lived for a few weeks on board an English schooner, and hence his
knowledge of the language, which he spoke extremely well, considering
that he had of course never had occasion to keep it up since.
Guillaume told me several instances of the ease with which the Indians
picked up and retained French phrases, which at their request he had
repeated to them. To their many other praiseworthy characteristics I
shall presently revert.
The dress of the men consists of a chiripà, fastened at the waist by a
belt, which is frequently richly embossed with silver. The capa, or
mantle of guanaco furs, already described, completes their attire.
When on horseback their feet are encased in botas de potro; but for
reasons of economy they do not wear them at ordinary times. The women
wear a long calico robe beneath the capa, which is fastened at the
throat with a silver brooch, or a simple wooden skewer, according to
the circumstances of the individual. Potro boots are a luxury reserved
for the men. The children, on whom most of the silver ornaments of
the family are lavished, wear a capa like their elders, and on
attaining the age of four or five are invested with the dignity of a
chiripà.
When the women grow old they become repulsively ugly, but the young
girls are by no means ill-favoured, and the looks of even the plainest
among them are invariably redeemed by the bright, smiling expression
habitual to them. Their hair is worn in plaits, artificially
lengthened by means of horsehair; their complexion, when free from
paint, is of a ruddy healthy colour, and their eyes, which are shaded
with long black lashes, are soft and clear.
Without going so far as to assert that the _affaires de cœur_ of
the Tehuelche maidens are always strictly platonic, I must say that,
according to my own observations, and the confirming statements of
others, the relations between the sexes are uniformly characterised by
a strong sense of decency and unimpeachable propriety. Polygamy is
admitted on principle; but no man may marry more wives than he can
afford to maintain, and there is, therefore, seldom more than one
mistress to each household. Marriages _de convenance_ are very rare;
but, as a matter of form, the bride is purchased from her parents for
a certain number of mares, or whatever objects her lover can afford to
give. But as the dowry of the girl generally quite compensates for
the expense her lover has incurred in obtaining her, the transaction
must be considered rather as an exchange of presents than as a mere
unsentimental bargain. Out of mere curiosity to learn the technical
details of Tehuelche marriage-settlements, I once entered into
negotiations with a rich old squaw, for the purpose of contracting
matrimony with her daughter who was a charming girl of about fifteen.
The price we finally agreed upon was eight mares; a bag of biscuits,
and some sugar, which I was to procure from Sandy Point. The dowry of
the daughter consisted in four new guanaco mantles. I held out for
five, and on my remaining inflexible on this point, the negotiations
fell through.
Husband and wife seem always to get on very well together; indeed, one
of the pleasantest traits in the Tehuelche character is the affection
with which relations regard one another. The love of the parents
towards their offspring is almost morbid in its intensity. Their grief
at the decease of an only child frequently manifests itself in the
most exaggerated manner. It is not unusual in such cases for the
parents to burn all their belongings, kill all their horses, and
reduce themselves to a state of utter poverty--a touching proof of the
sincerity and depth of their sorrow, if not of the soundness of their
views on practical economy.
Their indulgence towards their children is unlimited. I have never
seen a child chidden or remonstrated with, whatever mischievous pranks
it may have been up to, and in all their internal arrangements the
interest of the baby portion of the community seems to be the first
which is consulted. For my part, I must say I by no means shared in
the feelings of the elders with regard to their youthful progeny; on
the contrary, I always considered the latter as a most unmitigated
nuisance. They are dirty and vicious, as mischievous as monkeys, and
as thievish as magpies. The 'Artful Dodger' would have had to look to
his laurels if he had had to enter into competition with a young
Tehuelche. Their deftness of hand, as I have many a time experienced
to my cost, is remarkable. On one occasion, I rode over to their camp
from Santa Cruz, on an English saddle, and as I knew that the
stirrup-leathers, which are in great demand for belts on account of
the buckles, would prove too great a temptation, I took care not to
leave the saddle at all during my short stay, thinking by that means
to obviate any danger of losing my cherished stirrup-leathers. But
even this precaution proved insufficient. In an unguarded moment,
whilst bending over my horse's neck in conversation with an Indian who
was sitting on the ground below me, by way of resting myself a little,
I incautiously slipped one foot out of its stirrup, and lay at my full
length along the horse's back. I was hardly two minutes in that
position, but I was two minutes too long. On resuming my seat in the
saddle, my foot sought in vain for the stirrup, and on looking down I
discovered, to my wrath, that during my momentary inattention the
stirrup-leather had quietly been slipped off and made away with. Of
course, I immediately dismounted in a great rage, and set to to find
the thief. After a fruitless search, I returned to my horse, and, lo
and behold, in the meanwhile, the other stirrup-leather had
disappeared! In my precipitate haste, I had quite forgotten that
whilst I was looking for its fellow, it might be abstracted as well;
and the upshot of the whole affair was that, with many a strong
interjectional reference to my own stupidity, I had to ride
stirrupless back to Santa Cruz, some fifteen miles away. I had no
doubt at the time, and indeed I subsequently discovered, that two
youngsters had been the perpetrators of the neat theft.
One would think that under such training, as they grew older, their
faults would increase; but just the contrary is the case, and by the
time they attain their fifteenth or sixteenth year they abandon their
brattish ways, and become 'respectable,' steady-going members of their
community.
The division of labour in a Tehuelche _ménage_ is perhaps not strictly
equitable, for by far the greater part of the day's work falls on the
fair sex. The men go hunting when the larder is low, and occasionally,
in a dawdling kind of way, they mend their riding-gear, or make
bolas, lassoes, etc.; but they have an insurmountable aversion to
anything that looks like hard work. The squaws, on the other hand, are
busy from morning till night. They are the hewers of wood and the
drawers of water, and all the onus of housekeeping, breaking up the
camp, arranging the tents--including, of course, the care of the
children, the _cuisine_, and so forth--is delegated to them. When not
otherwise employed, they sew guanaco capas or weave fillets, and their
fingers, at all kinds of work, are as nimble as their tongues, with
which latter they keep up an incessant chatter, which, however, does
not prevent them from getting through an astonishing amount of work.
Of their origin little is to be said. They recognise a good spirit and
a bad spirit (Gualichu); but there is little sincerity or earnestness
either in their reverence for the one, or in their fear of the other.
According to the caprice of the moment, either of these spirits is
most cavalierly treated by them, and the respect they occasionally
profess towards them gives way as often as not to indifference,
contempt, or anger. The fact is, that with the Tehuelches the prime
rule in life is to take everything as easily as possible, to the
exclusion of all other considerations; and, acting on the doctrine of
the Epicureans, that it is a man's duty to endeavour to increase to
the utmost his pleasures and diminish to the utmost his pains, they
are careful not to admit any theories which might possibly disturb
their peace of mind. Thus they are strongly averse to the idea of
vesting in a supernatural agent the power of interfering in their
affairs to any great extent, arguing that such power having once been
vested, it might on a contingency be used detrimentally to their own
comfort and interests. On the other hand, it could not escape them
that very often a most convenient excuse for their peccadilloes was to
be found in attributing them to the evil influence of some bad spirit.
To avoid the dilemma occasioned by the above conflicting
considerations, they accordingly created the Gualichu, a most
accommodating devil, who allows himself to be ignored or brought
forward, as may best suit the momentary purpose of his clients. The
good spirit, for obvious reasons, one hears very little about; the
Tehuelche is quite willing to take the credit of his good actions on
himself alone.
The office of chief or cacique among them is not altogether a
sinecure; but its authority is extremely limited, being exercised
merely in such slight matters as the choice of the spot where the
tribe is to camp, the route to be followed, and so forth. The
Tehuelches are very jealous of their personal liberty; and complete
individual equality is the recognised basis of their social and
political system. Paraphrasing Wordsworth, I may say in prose, 'A rich
man is a rich man to them, and he is nothing more,' In other words,
the fact of one of their number possessing forty or fifty horses more
than his fellows, seems to be accepted by them as a simple fact, which
excites neither respect for the possessor nor envy of his good
fortune. Nor would it for a moment occur to the owner of the forty or
fifty horses to fancy himself in any way superior to his poorer
brethren. The little credit which wealth, _per se_, commands, saves
the Indians from a great many of the repugnant vices of white men,
such as avarice, jealousy, servility, etc., and keeps up a healthy,
independent feeling among them, which is pleasantly manifested in the
politeness and kindliness of their personal intercourse.
They have a peculiar custom, moreover, which is well calculated to
preserve the existing state of things. When an Indian dies, however
many horses he may possess, they are all killed, and his other
belongings are scrupulously burned. Thus, no family can acquire such a
preponderance of wealth as would enable it, in time, to obtain an
ascendant influence over and curtail the liberties of the rest of the
tribe. Whatever the defects of this system may be, from the political
economist's point of view, it seems to be very well adapted to the
desires and circumstances of the Tehuelches; and as an instance of how
socialistic tendencies may be practically modified to suit certain
exceptional conditions of existence, it is, perhaps, not without some
interest.
If required to distinguish the Tehuelche by a single characteristic
epithet, I should call him, not the noble, but the happy savage. Far
from being saturnine or grave, he is as light-hearted as a child, all
mirth and contentment, and wonderfully easily moved to laughter. Life
is, indeed, a very pleasant matter for him. Without any exertion on
his part being necessary, all his wants are supplied in abundance. He
has no onerous daily drudgery to undergo; he has no enemies to fear;
he is not driven from his hunting-grounds to starvation and death,
like his North American cousins, by the ever-advancing white man. He
is seldom visited by sickness, and his life is unusually prolonged.
That he has absolutely no troubles I will not affirm, but if he has
any he certainly takes them very lightly.
To conclude these few remarks on the Tehuelche race in reviewing their
characteristics it is impossible not to award them a high rank in the
list of uncivilised nationalities. To admit that they have many
faults, is, after all, merely saying that they are human; but these
faults are redeemed by many unusual excellences. They are
good-natured, hospitable, and affectionate; their instincts are
gentle; violence and ferocity are foreign to their nature; and though
not invariably veracious nor strictly honest, if they think you trust
them, they will take care not to deceive you. Their one great failing
is their addiction to rum, to whose fatal agency the rapid decrease
in their numbers, and the consequent fast-approaching extinction of
their race, must be ascribed.
But to return to my narrative. Our tent having been set up, and all
our saddle-gear stowed away, I strolled into the Indian camp, followed
by the chattering crowd which had come out to meet us. My curious
glances at these children of the desert were certainly repaid with
interest; and they subjected my person and belongings to the closest
scrutiny. The texture of my coat was carefully examined, and appeared
to give rise to a lengthy discussion, which was carried on with more
zeal and earnestness than the merits of the subject would seem to
warrant, and nothing but a good stare of several minutes' duration at
my face seemed to satisfy even the least curious among them.
The camp was composed of five toldos, or tents, each tent containing
on the average about twenty-five souls. These toldos are very
practically constructed, and, notwithstanding their formidable size,
they are set up or taken down by the squaws in a surprisingly short
space of time. A covering made of guanaco skins is drawn over a rough
framework of wood, consisting of a double row of stakes and
cross-beams, lashed together with thongs of guanaco hide. The front of
the tent is generally open, but it can be closed whenever occasion
requires. The interior is divided into partitions, each inmate having
his own bunk, where he sleeps and where his gear and chattels are
stowed away when not in use.
I entered one of these tents, and looked about me. In the front part
there were three or four small fires, round each of which sat a circle
of Indians, who were warming their toes, and smoking or taking maté.
The squaws were all hard at work, sewing capas, weaving fillets, or
tying up bundles of ostrich feathers. At my approach they stopped
working, and broke into a chorus of guttural commentaries on my
appearance, interspersed with a great deal of noisy laughter, which
they kept up till I left the tent. Little children and dogs were
sprawling about the place in all directions, apparently on very good
terms with each other--a dog not unfrequently gnawing at one end of a
piece of meat, off the other end of which a young Tehuelche hopeful
was making his dinner. In another corner was a group deeply immersed
in the chances and changes of a game of cards. Some of the Indians are
inveterate gamblers, and play for very high stakes indeed. It is not
an uncommon thing for a 'plunger' to risk all his horses and his
saddle-gear, knife and bolas to boot, on the chances of a single game.
We visited all the tents, and then went back to enjoy a pipe by our
own fireside. We had not been long seated when quite a deputation of
pretty young squaws arrived, to interview us. They bashfully sat down
at some distance from our fire, and for a time did nothing but giggle
and look shy. At last one of them, the prettiest (artful daughters of
Eve!), after a great deal of argument and some persuasive pushing,
seemed to consent to become the spokeswoman of the party, and taking
courage, came boldly up to us, and producing a plate from under her
capa, with a very engaging smile she held it out to me, repeating the
word 'Azucar' several times in a pleading, coaxing tone, which it was
impossible to resist. I gave her some sugar and biscuit, with which
she returned to her companions, seemingly very much pleased. After
having sat for a few minutes longer, just for politeness' sake, as it
were, they got up and went back to their homes. They must have
reported favourably on the results of their expedition, for they had
not been gone long when another lot arrived, who also wanted azucar.
We had just doled out a small portion to them, when still another
crowd came down upon us, composed chiefly of elderly squaws, each with
a plate, and such a cheerful desire to see it filled with sugar, that
it became necessary to restrain our generous instincts, and stow away
the sugar bags in the depths of our tent. Finding us inexorable, the
elders soon took their departure, in great good-humour, and seemingly
as happy as if they had got all they wanted.
We were favoured with a great many visits during dinner, and at one
time we were the centre of a circle of men, women, and children, two
rows deep, who were incessant in their demands for biscuit, sugar, or
something, but so calmly indifferent under the inevitable refusal with
which, in self-defence, we were obliged to meet all their
supplications, that it seemed they really did not care whether they
got anything given to them or not. Post-prandially I mused whether,
after all, they had not the advantage over me. It is true I had 'the
cakes and ale;' but then, on the other hand, to make matters even,
they had the finely-balanced temperament which enabled them to bear
the want of those luxuries with the most perfect equanimity.
After dinner, Garcia sat down to play cards with an Indian. I watched
him lose successively his bolas, his lasso, his knife, and his saddle,
and when I went to bed he was just commencing another game, for which
the stakes were a horse a side. I fully expected to wake up the next
morning and find that he had lost his whole troop; but he was not so
unfortunate, and when they finally left off playing he was only a pair
of bolas to the bad.