We started off in tolerably good spirits, and it was well we did so,
for we had to draw upon them considerably before the day was over. Our
way lay over a short plain, and across the range of hills above
mentioned. For the first two miles all went well, but after we had
climbed a couple of hills, I began to feel distressed. My burden,
which at the commencement had weighed lightly enough, now began
seriously to incommode me, and I asked myself, if my strength was
giving way before the journey had hardly begun, how was I to reach its
end? Still, with closed teeth and bent brow, I dragged myself wearily
along, determined not to give in. Guillaume was in no better plight
than I. We had long since abandoned any attempt at conversation--it
only used up our precious breath, and tired us the more.
At last we had to halt and rest a little, starting off again after a
few minutes' breathing-time, till we were again obliged to stop to
collect our strength; and in this manner we went on all that
afternoon, panting up steep hills, and dragging ourselves along over
plains which succeeded each other in weary monotony, and where the
boisterous winds, blowing full against us, obliged us to double our
exertions. At each fresh start we made I had to put forth my whole
strength to nerve myself for the effort, and each time, I felt, would
surely be the last. Somehow or other, I kept on, however. It is
wonderful what one can do in the face of certain alternatives. I soon
suffered from another cause; my feet, tender from long disuse, began
to swell under these sudden exertions. I was unable, after suffering
for some time, to keep my boots on, and had to continue the march
barefooted, over pebbles and short grasses which were only slightly
less merciless than the boots had been.
At sunset we found ourselves descending into a valley, where there was
a small river. We had fortunately no necessity to cross it, as our
road lay along the valley itself. In this region the bushes, which had
gradually been getting scarcer, ceased altogether. In the country we
were about to traverse, you may ride for leagues and leagues without
being able to find a piece of wood big enough to make a toothpick
with. The Indians, when they pass through this region, always bring
sufficient firewood with them on their pack-horses to last them during
the transit. I can in no way account for the absence in that
particular region of the bushes peculiar to the rest of the country,
especially as the soil, the formation, and the atmospheric conditions
seem to be the same there as in the rest of Patagonia.
By the time we had gone a little way up the valley we were all but
completely exhausted; my legs felt like lead, my breath came with
difficulty, and I staggered along as if about to fall at every step
under my pack, whose weight seemed to increase almost at every step.
It soon became necessary for us to halt altogether. We threw off our
burdens and stretched ourselves on the grass, to enjoy the luxury of a
good rest before troubling ourselves about getting supper ready.
But this important task could not be long deferred, especially as it
was getting dark. We therefore began to cast about for some substitute
for firewood, of which, as I have already mentioned, there was
absolutely none in that region. Guillaume consolingly remarked that as
soon as our four matches were exhausted, we should have to eat our
meat raw, and might as well, therefore, begin to do so at once. I was
not of his opinion, however, feeling that the longer that unpleasant
necessity was deferred the better. The only suitable combustible we
were able to find was the dry dung of guanacos, of which we managed to
collect a good heap. We purposed to ignite it with some dry grass, but
as we only allowed ourselves one match that day, I trembled for the
result. Carefully sheltering it from the wind, the match was at length
struck in safety and applied to the grass. It blazed up quick enough,
but it had to be fed some time before the dung could be coaxed into
taking fire, or rather smouldering, for the flame it emitted was
almost imperceptible. With the aid of the wind, the glow gradually
spread itself over the whole heap, and in it we managed to roast our
eggs and even to cook some meat. The latter had a disagreeable
flavour, even to our hardened palates. As soon as we finished our
supper, we lost no time in getting under our capas, now our only bed,
as the fire held out but few enticements to linger over it longer than
was absolutely necessary for cooking purposes.
At daybreak the next morning we got up, and in the heap of dung, which
was fortunately still glowing, we cooked some eggs, and prepared for
starting. I wrapped some pieces of cloth round my feet, to protect
them from hurt, and then we saddled ourselves and continued the march.
I felt very stiff, and altogether thoroughly done up. In fact, I did
not think I should be able to go on for more than a couple of hours at
most. Our path still lay through the valley alongside the river, and
we had now come to the beaten track to Sandy Point, made in the course
of long years by the Indians on their annual visit to that settlement.
Here we were pleasantly surprised by the sudden apparition of a big
dog, who frisked and jumped about us in great glee, no doubt glad to
have met with human beings. He probably belonged to some Indian, and
had lost himself somehow in the pursuit of a guanaco, as frequently
happens.
This was the first gleam of sunshine after our late bad luck, for the
poor brute was very fat, and we foresaw that its flesh would prove a
godsend if we should not happen to fall in with Indians. Our own dog
was not worth killing, being merely skin and bone. In view of his
probable fate, we called the new-comer 'Infeliz'--a name to which he
soon got to answer. He became quite attached to me, little knowing why
I paid him such anxious attentions.
We went on pretty well for some time, of course, with the usual halts
every ten minutes. To-day, too, the weather took it into its head to
change; the sun became unpleasantly warm, which, of course, increased
our fatigue considerably. At about twelve o'clock the path broke off
from the valley, and the country assumed a threatening appearance,
hill rising above hill for a long distance. As we had walked more than
six hours already, we allowed ourselves a long rest before facing the
difficulties which now lay before us. We felt very hungry, too; but,
not daring to use a match, we were obliged to eat some raw
ostrich-meat. I thought it had a peculiarly revolting taste, and more
than ever I deprecated the idea of perhaps having to undergo a regimen
of uncooked meat. I wondered, too, how Infeliz would taste raw, and
felt that I certainly would not try him unless pushed to the very last
extremity.
When we felt somewhat restored, we arose, carefully collected the
fragments of our meal, and then continued our wearisome journey. The
path now lay across a succession of hills, or undulations, which were
very steep and told fearfully upon us. We would rest a while on the
crest of each, and then go at the next one with a rush, our teeth set
and eyes bent on its summit; for if we flinched once on our upward
course, or halted but a moment, we were done for, and had to take
another rest previous to collecting our strength for a new spurt.
Several times I thought I must give in, and at last I could literally
hardly move one leg before the other. The perspiration rolled off my
forehead in streams, and the weight of my capas seemed to break my
back. Still we had set ourselves a certain goal, which was yet a long
way off; and though I was inwardly wishing that Guillaume would give
in, I was determined not to be first to speak, but to go on as long as
he did whilst there was a step left in me. I believe he was in the
same plight as I was, but kept on for the same reasons. At last a
higher hill than usual fairly brought us to a regular standstill, and
we threw ourselves down, feeling that, for that day at least, we could
go no further.
We lay motionless for about half an hour, when I rose to take off my
pack, and in so doing perceived a column of smoke, not far, at least
to all appearance, from where we were. My shout of joyful surprise
brought Guillaume to his feet, and we both examined it for some time,
half doubting our own eyes, and fearful lest every moment it should
prove a delusion. Nor were our feelings of pleasure wholly unmitigated
by certain apprehensions that it might be some old fire that had been
lit two or three days ago, and which was now burning up again.
Guillaume told me that he had known fires to smoulder on in grassy
glens for weeks together. It might be but an hour old, and yet those
who had made it were, perhaps, already miles away in some direction,
far from the path we must follow; and we could not signal our own
whereabouts, as the country we were then crossing was bare of grass
and bushes. Our doubts, however, were speedily set at rest. Even as we
watched the first column with eager eyes, another rose up not far from
it, and another still, and then we knew that the fires were being made
by Indians, who were hunting on the plains. A little to the left of
the smoke was a place called the 'Campo de Batalla,' where the Indians
always camp when in that neighbourhood, and to it we accordingly
directed our steps, as we were almost certain to find them there. The
vicinity of human beings gave us new strength. All fatigue disappeared
as if by magic; the hills, hitherto so formidable, seemed to shrink
into pigmy mounds; my pack became light as a feather, and the rags
round my feet seemed suddenly to possess the virtues of the famed
seven-mile boots. Not only should we be able to get horses from the
Indians, but, as they must have recently left the settlement, they
would have plenty of tobacco, maté, sugar, and biscuit, with the
thought of which I charmed away any relapse into exhaustion, which, as
hill followed hill in endless succession, now and again threatened to
overcome me. At last, about four o'clock, we descended into a valley,
a sudden turn of which brought us in full view of the Indian
encampment. My heart bounded at the sight of the tents, amongst which
I could descry dark human figures in long robes moving slowly to and
fro; hundreds of horses were grazing in the valley, whilst the yelping
of the swarms of curs that infest the Indian camps fell on my ears
like pleasant music.
The Indians were just returning from the chase, and were pouring down
from the plains on all sides. They soon perceived us, and presently
fifty or more horsemen came flying towards us at full gallop. In
another moment we were surrounded by a chattering, laughing,
gesticulating crowd, who escorted us towards the camp in triumph. One
of their number, who could speak a little Spanish, asked us a thousand
questions, the answers to which he translated for the benefit of the
others, to whom every item of information seemed to furnish an excuse
for the most unbounded merriment; they would all giggle and laugh,
though what I had to say to them did not contain anything
extraordinarily funny, at least as far as my perception of the
humorous goes.
When we reached the camp, we were surrounded by another crowd of
Indians, as eagerly curious as the first comers to know where we came
from, what we had done with our horses, and where we were going to--in
fact, all particulars as to our situation. As soon as one group left,
another arrived; and in this manner we ran the gauntlet of the whole
of the camp, everyone apparently deeming it incumbent on him to come
and have a good stare and grin at us.
Having satisfied their curiosity, we felt ourselves at liberty to
consult our own comfort; and Guillaume having discovered the
whereabouts of the tent of a cacique of the name of Orkeke, with whom
he was on intimate terms, we directed our steps towards it. Orkeke
himself, we found, had not as yet returned from the chase; but his
wife, an immensely fat and good-humoured-looking old squaw, accosted
us in some friendly gutturals, of which the evident purport was that
we were to make ourselves at home--an intimation on which we speedily
acted. With a deep sigh of relief, I divested myself of the pack under
whose weight I had trudged for so many a weary mile, and, stretching
myself out on the ground, I inwardly congratulated myself that the
unpleasant episode of our foot-pilgrimage was fortunately a thing of
the past.
We had now, for the first time since we had seen the smoke, leisure to
muse over our providential delivery from the serious danger that had
threatened us--a danger whose full magnitude only became apparent now
that we had no longer to fear it. But these thoughts did not occupy us
long; very soon Orkeke arrived, heavily laden with the spoils of the
chase. He seemed very pleased to see us, and greeted us affably in
broken Spanish. To the story of our mishaps he listened with great
interest, and when I told him that I had not taken maté or smoked for
several weeks, he showed particular concern, and immediately produced
a pipe and tobacco, and bade me smoke, at the same time telling his
wife to prepare maté, remarking very justly, 'No fumar, no tomar maté;
muy malo!' Smokers will feel with me when I say that my hand trembled
whilst filling my pipe, and that, having lit it, I sat for a few
minutes in a state of semi-ecstasy, enveloped in a fragrant cloud of
the long-missed soul-soother. The maté, too, seemed delicious; and as
a great treat, from a bag which contained similar treasures, Orkeke
brought forth a musty biscuit, which he broke into three pieces,
solemnly handing a share to Guillaume and me. The biscuit was coarse
and black and hard, no doubt, but it melted away on my lips like a
_meringue_, nor did I allow one crumb of it to be lost.
Orkeke was an admirable specimen of the Tehuelche race. He was tall
and well proportioned, and, notwithstanding his great age, extremely
vigorous and agile. His long grey hair and the benign expression of
his face gave him the look of a venerable patriarch--a character which
he rather affected to maintain. He was careful to inform me, at an
early stage of our acquaintance, that he never got drunk, like the
other Indians; that he never told a lie; and that his father had been
converted to Christianity--a circumstance which he evidently
considered to reflect in some way meritoriously on himself. On my
asking him why he had not followed his father's example and become a
Christian too, after a long pause he answered rather vaguely, "Quien
sabe." I did not press the question any further, as the Indians who
speak Spanish always make use of this expression when puzzled, or when
they do not care to give a direct reply, and if once they proffer it
as an answer, it is perfectly useless to attempt to elicit anything
more explicit from them.
Orkeke told me that he remembered perfectly well having paid a visit
to St. Julian, as a boy, when the Spanish colonists of Viedma were yet
there. If that were true--and I have no reason to doubt his word--his
age was now at least ninety-six or ninety-seven, and, judging by his
looks, I thought he might easily live twenty or thirty years longer.
His movements were as easy and as free from effort as those of a young
man. Indeed, I should imagine few climates are healthier or more
favourable to longevity than that of Patagonia; its crisp, dry air has
a peculiarly beneficent effect both on mind and body, and under its
influence one experiences a buoyancy of spirits, and a general
well-being, which are quite astonishing.
Orkeke spoke Spanish with tolerable fluency, and I was able to have a
long conversation with him on various topics, during which I gleaned
some interesting information about the customs and thoughts of the
Indians.
The tribe I was now amongst was more numerous than that of the
Northern Tehuelches, but it seemed to me that they were, on the
average, slightly inferior in physique to the Northerners, and
certainly there were not so many pretty squaws among them as among the
latter. Otherwise there was no marked distinction between them. The
camp consisted of twelve tents, containing in all from four to five
hundred souls. The whole tribe, I found, had just been paying their
annual visit to Sandy Point, to receive the rations of sugar, biscuit,
maté, and tobacco, which the Chilian Government accords them. These
visits generally cost them rather dear, as the inhabitants of the
colony, on these occasions, make a rich harvest of furs and feathers,
with which, under the influence of aguadiente, the Indians are then
extremely prodigal.
I made Orkeke promise to get me two horses the next morning, in order
that we might immediately continue our journey, and having eaten a
hearty supper, I went to sleep on a couch of furs, which Mrs. Orkeke
had prepared for me, and, notwithstanding the incessant squalling of
babies in various parts of the tent, I managed to pass a tolerable
night.
The next morning, as soon as Orkeke had risen, I asked him to get the
horses in readiness, as I was leaving at once. But there was an
unpleasant surprise in store for me. Orkeke seemed to have no
remembrance of what he had promised the previous evening, and coolly
told me that he could not lend me any of his horses, as, according to
him, they were all 'thin and tired,' 'Mi caballo, muy flaco, muy
cansado,' was all I could get out of him in reply to my indignant
demands for an explanation of the unaccountable change in his
intentions. In vain I argued, entreated, and stormed; in vain I
offered to pay him double the sum we had previously agreed on--nothing
would move him, and finally I gave up pressing the matter, directing
my energies instead to discovering some more accommodating Indian.
My task was not an easy one, and I soon found out that to drive a
bargain with an Indian one must have the patience of Job and the
temper of an angel. It is next to an impossibility to get a plain
'yes' or 'no' out of them, as they have an insuperable aversion to
committing themselves finally, either one way or the other. The
consequence is that one may haggle with them for hours, without
arriving at any result, and without even being able to judge whether
one is likely to arrive at any, so vague and circumlocutory are their
answers. Unfortunately, too, I was obliged to employ an interpreter,
thus reducing still further the chances of my coming to any definite
understanding.
After having interviewed some forty Indians, who all, after more or
less vacillation and delay, proffered the stereotyped objection, 'Mi
caballo, muy flaco,' I began to despair of succeeding at all, and as a
last resource, went back to Orkeke, who, I hoped, might possibly again
have changed his mind and become less obdurate. But the obstinate old
cacique was inexorable, and calmly recommended me to wait patiently
for a few days, as very soon some traders would be coming from the
colony. He could not understand that anyone could possibly be in a
hurry. Indians never are; and I have no doubt that the fact of my
being in such a desperate haste to get away awoke some suspicions in
his mind as to my motives, and inclined him to persist in his refusal
to accommodate me. I was at my wits' end. Nothing could be further
from my intentions than to wait with the Indians till some trader
should come to the camp. The very thought made me furious. I had not
risked crossing Gallegos for that, and yet I must either remain or
start off on foot, neither of which prospects I contemplated with much
satisfaction.
Though my own attempts had failed, I thought that perhaps Orkeke might
be able to negotiate more successfully for the hire of two horses from
some one amongst his acquaintances; and as an inducement for him to
exert himself in my behalf, I offered to give him a guanaco mantle. My
proposal set him thinking, and presently he said: 'I know Indian--very
rich man--three hundred horses--quien sabe, he lend you two.' Of
course, I jumped at the suggestion, and proposed that we should
immediately go and see this great and good man, the owner of three
hundred horses. But Orkeke met my impetuosity with a tantalising 'Mas
tarde,' and I had to restrain my impatience for more than an hour,
during the course of which I relieved my feelings with many a bitter
imprecation at Tehuelche supineness. At last Orkeke seemed to have
nerved himself for the tremendous effort, and signified to me that he
was ready to accompany me to the tent of the rich man. I approached
this awful being, whom I found reclining at ease on his furs, with
feelings of the deepest respect, for did he not hold the means of
relieving me from the serious and aggravating plight which fate and
the obstinacy of his brethren had brought me into?
Orkeke conversed with him for some time--very leisurely and
unconcernedly, I thought, considering the gravity of the issue of the
negotiations--and then, turning to me, he asked me to tell his friend,
who understood Spanish, what I wanted.
I began. 'You have plenty horses?'
'Yes, plenty.'
'Quien sabe, you lend me two?'
Here a long pause, during which I anxiously endeavoured to read the
answer to my question in the face of the Indian. But its expression
was a blank. Presently he suggested:
'How much you pay?'
'Oh, plenty sugar, plenty biscuit, plenty silver dollar,' I exclaimed,
gesticulating to an unlimited extent, and radiant with satisfaction,
as now I thought the matter had taken a practical and final turn.
'Bueno! But how send back horses to Indian?'
'Guillaume come back with horses and presents from colony in six
days.'
Here another long pause. The Indian seemed to be looking at some
object on the hills fifty miles away, apparently oblivious of my
presence. As he did not offer to resume the conversation, after a
while I suggested cheerfully:
'Very well, all is settled; you go and fetch the horses, whilst I
prepare my things and get ready to leave.' To my surprise he did not
respond to my suggestion as readily as I had expected. I presumed I
was going too quickly for him, and accordingly I modified my proposal
this wise: 'Quien sabe, when will you fetch horses for me?'
No answer: the object on the hills still claimed his undivided
attention. I waited patiently, wonderfully patiently, for a reply;
though now and then, in the course of the quarter of an hour's silence
which ensued, I did feel that it would have been an unspeakable relief
to have given my _nonchalant_ friend just one little cut with my whip.
We cannot all have the dispositions of saints.
I contented myself, after the lapse of time mentioned, with repeating,
'Quien sabe, when will you fetch horses for me?'
Then fell on my ears 'some words, which were warning of doom!'--'Mi
caballo, muy flaco, muy cansado.'
After having had my hopes raised to the highest point of expectation,
to see them thus suddenly dashed to the ground for some mere whim, and
without a show of reason, was more than flesh and blood could stand; I
regret to say that I lost my temper, and hurled at the passive Indian
a shower of furious imprecations. I am bound to say, however, that
they did not seem to have the slightest effect upon him, and merely
provoked a chorus of mocking laughter from the squaws. I went away in
high dudgeon, and my reflections, after I had cooled down a little,
were not rendered any pleasanter by the confession I had to make to
myself, that I had no business to lose my temper, as, after all, the
Indian had a perfect right to do as he chose with his own. Still, it
was rather exasperating that, much as I wanted them, with two thousand
horses grazing in the ravine around me, I could not obtain two.
Fortunately, relief was near at hand. I was just discussing with
Guillaume what was to be done next, when Orkeke came up to us, and
said that a scout had just arrived, and had told him that a white man
was camping at a lake some eighteen miles away, and that, for a
consideration, he would lend us a couple of horses to take us so far.
In half an hour the horses were driven up; and having made some small
presents to Mrs. Orkeke and her family, I hastily left, fearing lest,
acting on some new caprice, Orkeke might, at the last moment, find
some pretext for taking the horses away from us again.