IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE PATAGONIANS
DESOLATION INLET is an unfrequented creek on the northern or
Patagonian shores of the Magellan Straits. Save for the occasional
visit of a hardy whaler the harbour is rarely occupied. The inlet
well deserves its name. Imagine a tortuous channel of deep water,
surrounded by lofty snow-clad mountains that tower to the height of
7,000ft., presenting the appearance of a Norwegian fjord without the
beautifying effect of the foliage and pasture land in the
intersecting valleys. For, with the exception of a few stunted pines
and occasional patches of hardy, thorn-like scrub, vegetation does
not exist.
It was early in September, or towards the end of the winter of the
Southern Hemisphere, when the _Olive Branch_ glided slowly up the
placid waters of the creek. Although hardly a ripple disturbed the
mirror-like surface, Desolation Inlet is subject to sudden storms
that sweep down from the mountains with well-nigh irresistible force,
so that their effect upon a slowly moving vessel was extremely
dangerous.
Although the lead gave no depth at seventy fathoms during the first
ten miles, Captain Brookes dared not proceed with more than a bare
steerage way, owing to the extreme irregularity of the bottom of the
badly charted harbour; and it was with undisguised relief that the
order was given to let go in eight fathoms, with the shore less than
two cables' length away on either hand.
[Illustration: A party of natives appeared on the beach regarding the
cruiser with obvious amazement. In their hands they carried long
slender spears, which they brandished menacingly.]
Hardly had the _Olive Branch_ moored when a party of natives appeared
on the beach, regarding the huge cruiser with obvious amazement and
curiosity. They were tall, muscular men, wild and shaggy in
appearance, and scantily clothed in spite of the severity of the
weather. In their hands they carried long, slender spears, which they
brandished menacingly when a white flag was waved on board the
cruiser.
Having lost the small boats in action the only means of communicating
with the shore was by the motor cutter and the barge. These two boats
were hoisted out by the crane with comparative ease, and a party of
men prepared to go ashore for the purpose of setting up a temporary
forge for the repair of the propeller.
Gerald and Jack asked, and readily obtained, permission to go ashore,
Captain Brookes cautioning them not to wander far from the boat, and
not to give the savages any cause for offence; so buckling on their
revolvers they took their place in the cutter.
On the approach of the boat, moving swiftly and noiselessly through
the water under her well-silenced motors, the natives fled
precipitately, till they gained the shelter of a cluster of pine
trees.
At length, by dint of signs, one of the savages was induced to come
down to the water's edge. This he did slowly, and with manifest
hesitation and distrust, but the bait of a piece of copper proved
irresistible. No sooner had he obtained possession of the metal than
he bolted back to his companions. Two more followed his example,
received various blankets, and as promptly fled. Then others summoned
up courage, and soon the shore was lined with natives, with every
symptom of good-will, who accepted the various presents with the
greatest eagerness.
The savages having been pacified, steps were immediately taken to
build a forge, and the damaged fan was laid upon a bed of sand so as
to receive the molten metal. This work took two days to perform, some
of the seamen being lodged in temporary shelters so as to prevent any
attempt on the part of the savages to remove the metal under cover of
darkness; but so docile did the Patagonians seem that there appeared
no necessity for the precaution.
While the welding operations were in progress Gerald and Jack,
accompanied by a party of armed men, made several short excursions
into the interior. The snow-drifts made walking a difficult matter,
while the air was so piercingly cold that the men were especially
cautioned against sitting down to rest while on their expeditions, as
the result would be fatal.
"I wonder where those poor brutes sleep?" remarked Jack, as the chums
trudged wearily through the fleecy mantle that covered the ground to
the depth of a foot. "In caves or rough huts, I expect," replied
Gerald. "They must be a wiry set. As far as I can make out their food
consists wholly of shell-fish, yet they seem to thrive on it."
"What's that over there?" exclaimed Stockton, pointing to a series of
snow-covered mounds standing about a foot from the ground on the
shores of a small cove or creek.
"Canoes, turned bottom upwards," replied Gerald, after making a
lengthy examination through his field-glasses. "And on the other side
of the inlet is a small village, though what those people are doing
on this side I cannot make out."
"Perhaps they don't want us to know the position of their village,"
remarked Jack, as they resumed their way back to the boat, the rest
of the party straggling in the rear.
On returning to the landing-place they found that the repairs to the
propeller had been completed and the massive casting had already been
placed on board the cutter.
"We've been waiting for you the last half hour," observed Mr. Slade,
with asperity, for the coldness of the atmosphere and the tedious
delay had not improved his temper. "Now then, men, fall in. Number."
On the landing-party "numbering-up" the astounding discovery was made
that one man was missing, and further inquiries revealed the
knowledge that the straggler was a petty officer named Black, who was
known to have accompanied Gerald's party.
"He must have fallen out on the way back to the shore," exclaimed one
of the men.
"Well, it's no use standing here--he must be found," said Slade. "As
I am in charge of the landing-party, I'm held responsible. Look here,
Mr. Tregarthen, will you take command of the cutter, and take the
propeller off to the ship? I'll take half a dozen men and go and look
for Black."
Jack Stockton also expressed his intention of forming one of the
search-party, so leaving twelve men on the shore to stand by the
launch, Lieutenant Slade followed the well-defined footsteps through
the snow, while Gerald undertook the duty of taking the cutter back
to the ship.
Ere the little craft could accomplish her journey a squall swept down
upon the harbour with its customary fierceness and intensity. In
spite of the fact that the cruiser was riding to a strong ebb tide
the strength of the icy blast caused her to swing broadside on and
athwart the swirling stream. The motor craft, notwithstanding her
comparatively high freeboard, took in water on both sides, nor was
Gerald able to bring her alongside the _Olive Branch_ till she had
gained the comparative shelter of the lee of the cruiser.
Somewhat to young Tregarthen's surprise no one was waiting to receive
the boat and its weighty and important cargo, so having secured the
cutter to the swinging boom her crew clambered up the wire rope
ladders and gained the deck of the _Olive Branch_.
Here they found that, in spite of the hissing shower of hail and
snow, the whole of the remaining crew of the cruiser were lining the
weather-side of the deck and peering intently ashore.
It was a strange sight that met Gerald's gaze as he crossed the deck
and looked in the direction of the landing-place.
Sheltering under the lee-side of the forge and the adjacent temporary
buildings were the men of the launch, quite oblivious of what was
taking place a bare hundred yards from where they stood, while on the
snow-covered plain betwixt the shore and the fringe of the pine trees
a scene was being enacted in which those on board the _Olive Branch_
were powerless to interfere.
Plunging and staggering across the snow was one of the seamen of the
_Olive Branch_, at his heels a score or more of Patagonians, with
their long spears poised ready to plunge into the fugitive's back,
yet restraining themselves in order to prolong the savage delight of
the chase. Against the fleet-footed natives, to whom the soft,
yielding snow appeared to offer no obstacle to their speed, the
sailor had no possible chance. Once he turned, raised his revolver,
and fired, and one of the savages fell. But for the silencer the shot
might have terrified his pursuers, but regarding the weapon merely as
they would a piece of cold steel, the moral lesson was thrown away.
Evidently it was his last cartridge, for dashing the weapon in the
face of the nearest native the man resumed his flight, till within
twenty yards of the place where his unsuspecting comrades were
sheltering he stumbled.
During his dash for safety the man gave vent to a warning shout; the
men had just time to stand to their arms ere the Patagonians were
upon them. The issue was not long at stake. The powerful yet silent
weapons of the white men drove the savages back to the shelter of the
forest.
"Hoist the signal for recall and clear away the for'ard turret,"
ordered Captain Brookes. "I'll shell the rest of those rascals into
smithereens."
Muttering threats of vengeance against the treacherous natives the
crew of the launch came over the side. Three of them had sustained
slight wounds in the conflict on the shore that necessitated the
attendance of the surgeon, though the wounded men submitted to his
ministrations with a bad grace. As for the rest of the crew of the
_Olive Branch_ they besought their officers to lead them on an
expedition to rescue or revenge their missing comrades.
To these entreaties Captain Brookes turned a deaf ear. "Too many
risks have been taken already," he declared. What he meant to do was
to inflict a stern punishment on the savages who had violated the
hospitality of their visitors.
"One moment, sir," exclaimed Gerald. "If we open fire with the 6in.
guns we'll probably exterminate friend and foe; that is, if our
comrades are still alive, as I think they are. I quite agree with
you, however, on the impracticability of sending a punitory force
ashore."
"By Jove! it's worth trying," cried Captain Brookes, after the young
sub-lieutenant had unfolded his plan, and to the astonishment of the
rest of the officers and crew orders were given for the _Olive
Branch_ to weigh and proceed to sea. Twenty minutes later the cruiser
had left her anchorage in the inhospitable waters of Desolation
Inlet.
[Illustration: chapter XVII]