XL. PATAGONIA AND THE PATAGONIANS
Difference of Climate between East and West Patagonia.-- Extraordinary Aridity of East Patagonia.--Zoology.--The Guanaco.--The Tucutuco.--The Patagonian Agouti.--Vultures.-- The Turkey-buzzard.--The Carrancha.--The Chimango.--Darwin’s Ostrich.--The Patagonians.--Exaggerated Accounts of their Stature.--Their Physiognomy and Dress.--Religious Ideas.-- Superstitions.--Astronomical Knowledge.--Division into Tribes.-- The Tent, or Toldo.--Trading Routes.--The great Cacique.-- Introduction of the Horse.--Industry.--Amusements.--Character.
Patagonia, the southern extremity of the American continent, is divided by the ridge of the Andes into two parts of a totally different character. Its western coast-lands, washed by the cold Antarctic current and exposed to the humid gales of a restless ocean, are almost constantly obscured with clouds and drenched with rain. Dense forests, dripping with moisture, clothe the steep hill-sides; and, from the coldness of the summer, the snow-line is so low that for 650 miles northward of Tierra del Fuego almost every arm of the sea which penetrates to the interior higher chain is terminated by huge glaciers descending to the water’s edge.
East Patagonia, on the contrary, a vast plain rising in successive terraces from the Atlantic to the foot of the Cordillera, is one of the most arid regions of the globe. The extreme dryness of the prevailing westerly winds, which have been totally deprived of their humidity before crossing the Andes, and the well-rounded shingles which compose the soil, have entailed the curse of sterility on the land. Monotonous warm tints of brown, yellow, or light red everywhere fatigue the eye, which vainly seeks for rest in the dark blue sky, and finds refreshing green only on some river-banks.
Many broad flat vales transsect the plains, and in these the vegetation is somewhat better. The streams of former ages have no doubt hollowed them out, for the rivers of the present day are utterly inadequate to the task. On account of the dryness of the atmosphere, the traveller may journey for days in these Patagonian plains without finding a drop of water. Springs are rare, and even when found are generally brackish and unrefreshing. While the “Beagle” was anchoring in the spacious harbor of Port St. Julian, a party one day accompanied Captain Fitzroy on a long walk round the head of the harbor. They were eleven hours without tasting any water, and some of the party were quite exhausted. From the summit of a hill, to which the appropriate name of “Thirsty Hill” was given, a fine lake was spied, and two of the party proceeded, with concerted signals, to show whether it was fresh water. The disappointment may be imagined when the supposed lake was found to be a snow-white expanse of salt, crystallized in great cubes.
The extreme dryness of the air, which imparts so sterile a character to the country, favors the formation of guano deposits on the naked islands along the coast, which are frequented by sea-birds. Protracted droughts are essential to the accumulation of this manure, for repeated showers of rain would wash it into the sea, and for this reason no guano deposits are found on the populous bird-mountains of the north. A similar dryness of the atmosphere favors the deposit at Ichaboe on the African coast, at the Kooria Nooria Islands in the Indian Ocean, and at the Chincha Islands on the Peruvian coast; and this kind of climate appears also to be particularly agreeable to the sea-birds.
Considering the excessive aridity of Patagonia, it seems surprising that the country should be traversed from west to east by such considerable rivers as the Rio Negro, the Gallegos, and the Santa Cruz; but all these have their sources in the Andes, and are fed by mountain torrents, which no doubt derive their waters from the atmospherical precipitations of the Pacific.
The zoology of Patagonia is as limited as its flora, and greatly resembles in its character that of the mountain regions of Chili, or of the Puna or high table-land of the tropical Andes of Peru and Bolivia, the height of which varies from 10,000 to 14,000 feet above the level of the sea.
In all these countries, situated in such different latitudes, the explorer is astonished to find not only the same genera, but even animals of the same species. The forest-loving race of monkeys is nowhere to be found in treeless Patagonia. None of the quadrumana ventures farther south than 29° lat., but on the borders of the Rio Negro, the northern boundary of Patagonia, some small bats are seen fluttering about in the twilight.
The dark-brown yellow-headed Galictis vittata, an animal allied to the Civets and Genets, is likewise found there, but much more frequently its relation the Zorilla, which ranges from 30° lat. to the Strait of Magellan, and, like the skunk of the north, has the power of discharging a fluid of an intolerably fetid odor.
The guanaco is the characteristic quadruped of the plains of Patagonia, where it is no less useful to man than the wild reindeer to the savage hunters of the north. It ranges from the Cordillera of Peru as far south as the islands near Cape Horn, but it appears to be more frequent on the plains of South Patagonia than anywhere else. It is of greater size than the llama, and resembles it so much that it was supposed to be the wild variety, until Tschudi, in his “Fauna Peruana,” pointed out the specific difference between both. The guanaco is a more elegant animal, with a long, slender neck and fine legs; its fleece is shorter and less fine; its color is brown, the under parts being whitish. It generally lives in small herds of from half a dozen to thirty in each; but on the banks of the Santa Cruz Mr. Darwin saw one herd which contained at least five hundred. Though extremely shy and wary, it is no match for the cunning of the savage; and, before the horse was introduced into Patagonia, man most probably could not have existed in those arid plains without the guanaco. It easily takes to the water, and this accounts for its presence on the eastern islands of Fuegia, where it has been followed by the puma, or American lion, who likewise pursues it on the plateaus of the Cordillera, 12,000 feet above the level of the sea.
The Brazilian fox (Canis Azaræ) is also met with as far as the strait. It is somewhat smaller than our fox, but more robustly built. In Patagonia it preys chiefly upon the small rodents, with which the land, in spite of its sterility, is perhaps more richly stocked than any other country in the world. Among these the tucutuco (Ctenomys magellanica), which may briefly be described as a gnawer with the habits of a mole, is one of the most remarkable. It abounds near the strait, where the sandy plain is one vast burrow of these creatures. This curious animal makes, when beneath the ground, a very peculiar noise, consisting of a short nasal grunt, monotonously repeated about four times in quick succession, the name tucutuco being given in imitation of the sound. Where the animal is abundant, it may be heard at all times of the day, and sometimes directly beneath one’s feet. The tucutuco is nocturnal in its habits; its food consists chiefly of roots, the search after which seems to be the cause of its burrowing.
Among the indigenous quadrupeds of Patagonia we find, moreover, a species of agouti (Dasyprocta patagonica), which in some measure represents our hare, but is about twice the size, and has only three toes on its hind feet; the elegant long-eared mara (Dolichotis patagonicus), which, unlike most burrowing animals, wanders, commonly two or three together, for miles from its home; the Didelphis Azaræ, a species of opossum; and the pichy (Dasypus minutus), a small armadillo, which extends as far south as 50° lat.
It would be vain to seek among the Patagonian birds for the splendid plumage of the tropical feathered tribes; their colors are simple and monotonous, as those of the naked plains which are their home. Many birds of prey of the warmer regions of America likewise frequent the arid wastes of Patagonia. When a horse chances to perish from fatigue or thirst, the turkey-buzzard (Vultur aura?) begins to feast upon its carcass, and then the carrancha (Polyborus brasiliensis) and the chimango (Polyborus chimango) pick its bones clean. Though these birds, which well supply the place of our carrion-crows, magpies, and ravens, generally feed in common, they are by no means on a friendly footing. When the carrancha is quietly seated on the branch of a tree or on the ground, the chimango often continues for a long time flying backward and forward, up and down, in a semicircle, trying each time, at the bottom of the curve, to strike its larger relative, which takes little notice except by bobbing its head. The carrancha, which is common in the dry and open countries, and likewise on the arid shores of the Pacific, is also found inhabiting the forests of West Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. The chimango is much smaller than the carrancha. Of all the carrion feeders, it is generally the last which leaves the skeleton of a dead animal, and may frequently be seen within the ribs of a horse, like a prisoner behind a grating. It is frequently found on the sea-coast, where it lives on small fishes.
The condor may likewise be reckoned among the Patagonian birds, as it follows its prey, the guanaco, across the Strait of Magellan as far as the eastern lowlands of Tierra del Fuego. In the winter especially, when the cold forces vast numbers of geese and ducks to quit the Antarctic islands in the higher latitudes, all these birds of prey, to which the crowned falcon (Circætes coronatus), the three-colored buzzard (Buteo tricolor), the Aguia eagle (Haliatus aguia), and several others must be added, live in luxury. Most of them are likewise migratory birds, and disappear in summer, with the defenseless tribes on which they prey. The Magellanic thrush (Turdus magellanicus) leaves in winter the stormy banks of the strait, and retires to the milder skies of the Rio Negro, where it meets the tuneful Patagonian warbler (Orpheus patagonicus), the nimble troglodyte (Troglodytes pallida), and the inconstant fly-catcher (Muscicape parvulus).
A peculiar species of ostrich, the nandu (Rhea Darwini), roams over the plains of Southern Patagonia as far as the Strait of Magellan. It is smaller than the South American ostrich (Rhea americana), which inhabits the country of La Plata as far as a little south of the Rio Negro; but it is more beautiful, as its white feathers are tipped with black at the extremity, and its black ones in like manner terminate in white.
In the same high latitude one is surprised to meet with a member of the parrot tribe (Psittacus patagonicus) feeding on the seeds of the winter’s bark, and to see humming-birds (Trochilus forficatus) flitting about during the snowstorms in the forests of Tierra del Fuego.
The plains of Patagonia are inhabited by a race of Indians supposed to be gigantic, but the descriptions of modern travellers have dispelled the idea. Thus Pigafetti, the companion of Magellan, relates that the Europeans only reach to the waist of the Patagonians; Simon de Weert tells us that they are from ten to eleven feet high; Byron, who visited them in the last century, reduces them to seven feet, and Captain King finally, who accurately measured them, found the medium height of the males about five feet eleven inches. As the Patagonians have most likely not degenerated within the last few centuries, we may infer from these various accounts that the travellers of the present day are less prone to exaggeration than those of more ancient times. So much is certain, that the Patagonians are a fine athletic race of men, with remarkably broad shoulders and thick muscular limbs. The head is long, broad, and flat, and the forehead low, with the hair growing within an inch of the eyebrows, which are bare; the eyes are often placed obliquely, and have but little expression; the forehead and the large lips are prominent, so that if a perpendicular line were drawn between the two, the thick flat nose would hardly reach it, and but seldom project beyond it. In spite of these coarse features the physiognomy of the young girls is by no means unpleasant, as it has an amiable, lively expression. All of them have small hands and feet, and D’Orbigny says that they have the finest shapes of all the savages he saw. Though they have a wide mouth and thick lips, this fault is redeemed by their beautiful white teeth, which never fall out even in old age.
The color of the Patagonians is much darker than that of the Pampas Indians and others farther to the north, and most closely resembles that of the mulatto; a fact totally at variance with the common belief that the darkness of the human skin increases on approaching the equator.
The chief garment is the manuhé, a wide, square mantle--eight feet long and nearly as broad--which they wear after the fashion of the ancient Greeks and Romans, with one end hanging down to the earth. It generally consists of guanaco skins neatly sewn together with ostrich sinews. In cold weather the manuhé, which serves also as a blanket, is worn with the hair inside; the even surface is therefore ornamented with red drawings. Sometimes they wear boots of horse-leather, like the Gauchos, from whom they have learned to make them; formerly sandals of guanaco skin were alone in use. Their long black hair is tied behind with a thong of leather or a piece of ribbon; the women plait and adorn it with a number of ornaments of glass and copper. The face is generally painted red, white, and black, and a Patagonian is never seen without the little pouch in which he carries the necessary colors. A remarkable custom, common to all the Indian tribes as far as Bolivia, is that of eradicating the hairs of the beard, and the men may frequently be seen plucking them out with a pair of pincers.
The religious ideas of the Patagonians greatly resemble those of their neighbors the Aucas and the Puelches. The divine Achekenat Kanet is reverenced as the genius of both good and evil; but beside this chief deity they have a number of inferior spirits, generally of a malignant nature, which can be held in check only by the arts of their magicians. Like the shamans, or medicine-men of the north, these impostors work themselves into an ecstatic state, in which they predict things to come, or announce the will of the unseen gods; but their trade does not seem to be very lucrative if we may judge from the bad condition of their mantles. They also act as physicians, for all diseases are invariably ascribed to the agency of evil spirits.
The Patagonians are quite as superstitious as the Indians of the high northern latitudes. They seldom cut their hair, but when they do, they cast it into the river or carefully burn it, so that it may not fall into the hands of some malignant magician, who might use it to the hurt of its quondam owner. When, on journeying along a river, they see some trunks of trees descending with the current, they take them for evil spirits, and address them with a loud voice. If by chance the trees are swept by less rapidly or are driven round in a whirlpool, they believe that this takes place for the purpose of hearing them. They then make them liberal promises, which they faithfully keep. They cast their weapons, their ornaments, sometimes even their horses with bound feet, into the water, fully persuaded that by this sacrifice they have averted the misfortunes that otherwise would have befallen them. Like many other savage nations, they believe in a future paradise, where they expect to find again all that they prized on earth. For this reason they immolate over the graves of their friends all the animals that belonged to them, and inter with them all they possessed.
The astronomical knowledge of the Patagonians is surprising in a people ranking so low in the scale of civilization. Continually migrating over their arid land, they soon felt the necessity of directing their movements during the day by the position of the sun, during the night by the stars; and thus they gradually learned to observe the march of the constellations, and to note the times of their appearance and disappearance, giving them names, so as to be able to communicate their observations to each other. Their lively fancy traces in the starry firmament the picture of the Indian’s hunting expedition. The Milky Way is the path on which he follows the ostrich; the “Three Kings” are the bolas, or balls, with which he strikes the bird whose feet form the Southern Cross; and the Magellanic clouds are heaps of its feathers that have been collected by its pursuer.
When the Patagonians speak of the direction they intend to follow, from north to south or from east to west, they always indicate the constellations; so that in these South American plains, as in those of Chaldea, a similar necessity has led man to lay the first foundations of astronomical knowledge.
The Patagonians are divided into a number of small migratory tribes, each consisting of, at the utmost, thirty or forty families. As they live exclusively by the chase, it is evident that a few days would suffice to destroy or to drive away the game of a great extent of territory were they to assemble in larger numbers. Not to perish of want, they are thus compelled to wander from place to place in small companies, and to carry along with them their leathern toldos, or tents. The toldo reposes on a frame of poles stuck into the earth, and is scarcely higher than six feet in its centre, so that one can hardly imagine how a family of tall Patagonians can live in so small a space. The door is invariably to the east, so that early in the morning the chief of the family may sprinkle before it a few drops of water as an offering to the rising sun, for were this sacrifice to be neglected, the evil spirits would infallibly wreak their vengeance upon the inmates of the tent. Horse-hides, or guanaco skins coarsely sewn together, cover the frame, and afford but a scanty protection against the rain and the much more frequent wind. At the top, as in the Laplander’s hut, an opening is left to let out the smoke. The hearth is in the middle, and close by lie some earthen vases, and large volute shells which serve as drinking-horns. The inmates lie on skins, or sit in a corner cross-legged, after the Oriental fashion. The excessive filth of these wretched tenements makes their poverty appear still more squalid than it really is. Thirty or forty toldos form a migratory village, or tolderia. Though the dreadful small-pox epidemic from 1809 to 1812 destroyed whole tribes of Patagonians, their present number may still be estimated at from eight to ten thousand; a small one, when compared with the size of the country, yet large enough when we consider the sterile nature of its soil and the vast space of desert needed to feed a sufficient number of guanacos and horses for the wants of even a scanty population. Each tolderia appears to have its territory limited by the hunting-grounds of its neighbors, but commercial transactions take place between the various tribes, and occasion longer journeys. One of the chief trading routes runs along the eastern foot of the Andes from the Strait of Magellan to the Rio Negro, as water is here everywhere found; another, leading parallel with the coast from the Rio Negro to Port St. Julian and Port Desire, is only frequented in the rainy season, and even then there are wide spaces without any sweet water, and where it is necessary to travel night and day so as to avoid the danger of dying of thirst.
Every year the various Patagonian tribes wander to the sources of the Rio Negro, where they provide themselves with araucaria seeds, which serve them as food, or with apples, which have multiplied on the eastern spurs of the Andes in the same astonishing manner as the peach-trees near the mouths of the La Plata. The apple-tree was introduced by the first Spaniards who inhabited the Chilian Andes soon after the conquest; and when later the intruders were expelled by the victorious Araucanians, the natives found their country enriched by this valuable acquisition.
One of the chief bartering rendezvous is the island Cholechel, which is formed by two arms of the Rio Negro, about eighty leagues from the mouth of the river. Here the Patagonian exchanges his guanaco skins for the articles which the Puelches, his northern neighbors, either fabricate themselves or procure in a more easy manner by stealing them from the white settlers in their neighborhood. This bartering trade is very ancient, and has always existed excepting in times of war. In this manner the Patagonians were provided with horses soon after the introduction of this valuable animal into the New World, and thus also articles of Spanish manufacture soon found their way as far as the Strait of Magellan.
At present there seems to be peace among all the Patagonian tribes, which consider themselves as brothers, though frequently separated several hundred leagues from each other.
Their system of government is very simple. The whole nation has a chief, or great cacique, whom they call carasken, and whose authority is very limited. In war he presides in the assembly of the minor chiefs, and has the supreme command in battle. In peace his sway is confined to his own tribe. He is as poor as his subjects, and, far from enjoying a copious civil list, is obliged to hunt for his subsistence like every other Patagonian; the only advantage he owes to his exalted station being a somewhat larger share of the products of the chase; and this he is obliged to distribute among the more needy of his followers, to maintain his influence. The dignity of carasken is not always hereditary. To succeed his father, the son must first prove by his eloquence, his courage, and his liberality that he is worthy to succeed him; and if he is found wanting, the Indian most distinguished by his moral and intellectual qualities is elected in his place.
The Patagonians are very awkward fishermen; they merely catch what chance throws into their hands, and are unacquainted with nets or any other piscatorial artifice. In this respect they are totally different from the Fuegians, who derive their chief subsistence from the sea. They have ever been a nation of hunters, and before the introduction of the horse, they pursued their game on foot, using their bolas with great dexterity for the destruction of the guanaco and the ostrich. Their dogs afforded them a valuable assistance, and since they have become accomplished horsemen, their fleet coursers enable them to overtake with ease all the animals of the wilderness. In times of scarcity they dig for a small root, which is either eaten fresh or preserved dry. Horse-flesh is their favorite food.
The Patagonian toldos and their weapons are very rudely made, but their skin mantles are not untastefully ornamented with rectilinear figures. In their war-dress they have a very hideous appearance, and it would be difficult to imagine a more diabolical figure than that of a tall Patagonian ready for a fight, his broad face painted scarlet, with black or blue stripes under the eyes, and his coarse features distorted with fury. Their arms are bows and arrows, with points of flint loosely attached with sinews, so as to remain sticking in the wound. They are excellent archers, and use with skill the sling, the javelin, and above all their formidable bolas, which serve them both for bringing the guanaco to the ground or for breaking the skull of an enemy. When not engaged in war or in the chase, the men, like most savages, pass their time in absolute idleness, leaving all the household work to the women. Amusements they have but few. The use of dice they have learned from the Spaniards. They are said to be a false and deceitful people, but their hospitality and good-nature have been frequently extolled by travellers.
XLI. THE FUEGIANS
Their miserable Condition.--Degradation of Body and Mind.--Powers of Mimicry.--Notions of Barter.--Causes of their low State of Cultivation.--Their Food.--Limpets.--Cyttaria Darwini.-- Constant Migrations.--The Fuegian Wigwam.--Weapons.--Their probable Origin.--Their Number, and various Tribes.--Constant Feuds.--Cannibalism.--Language.--Adventures of Fuegia Basket, Jemmy Button, and York Minster.--Missionary Labors.--Captain Gardiner.--His lamentable End.
The wilds of Tierra del Fuego are inhabited by a race of men generally supposed to occupy the lowest grade in the scale of humanity. In a far more rigorous climate, the Esquimaux, their northern antipodes, exhibit skill in their snow huts, their kayaks, their weapons, and their dress; but the wretched Fuegians are ignorant of every useful art that could better their condition, and contrive scarcely any defense against either rain or wind.
But even among the Fuegians there are various grades of civilization-- or rather barbarism. The eastern tribes, which inhabit the extensive plains of King Charles’s South Land, seem closely allied to the Patagonians, and are a very different race from the undersized wretches farther westward. A mantle of guanaco skin, with the wool outside-- the usual Patagonian garment--loosely thrown over their shoulders, and leaving their persons as often exposed as covered, affords them some protection against the piercing wind. The condition of the central tribes inhabiting the south-western bays and inlets of this dreary country is much more miserable. Those farther to the west possess seal-skins, but here the men are satisfied with an otter skin or some other covering scarcely larger than a pocket-handkerchief. It is laced across the breast by strings, and according as the wind blows it is shifted from side to side. But all have not even this wretched garment, for near Wollaston Island Mr. Darwin saw a canoe with six Fuegians, one of whom was a woman, naked. It was raining heavily, and the fresh water, together with the spray, trickled down their bodies. In another harbor not far distant, a woman, who was suckling a recently-born child, came one day alongside the vessel, and remained there out of mere curiosity, whilst the sleet fell and thawed on her naked bosom and on the skin of her naked baby! These poor wretches were stunted in their growth, their faces bedaubed with white paint, their skins filthy, their hair entangled, their voices discordant, and their gestures violent.
The Fuegians whom Cook met with in Christmas Sound were equally wretched. Their canoes were made of the bark of trees stretched over a framework of sticks, and the paddles which served to propel these miserable boats were small, and of an equally miserable workmanship. In each canoe sat from five to eight persons; but instead of greeting the strangers with the joyful shouts of the South Sea Islanders, they rowed along in perfect silence; and even when quite close to the vessel, they only uttered from time to time the word “Pescheräh!” After repeated invitations some of these savages came on board, but without exhibiting the least sign of astonishment or curiosity. None were above five feet four inches high; they had large heads, broad faces, with prominent cheek-bones, flat noses, small and lack-lustre eyes; and their black hair, smeared with fat, hung in matted locks over their shoulders. Instead of a beard, their chin exhibited a few straggling bristles, and their whole appearance afforded a striking picture of abject misery. Their shoulders and breast were broad and strongly built, but the extremities of the body so meagre and shrivelled that one could hardly realize the fact that they belonged to the upper part. The legs were crooked, the knees disproportionately thick. Their sole garment consisted of a small piece of seal-skin, attached to the neck by means of a cord, otherwise they were quite naked; but even these miserable creatures had made an attempt to decorate their olive-brown skin with some stripes of ochre. The women were as ugly as the men. Their food consisted of raw, half-putrid seal’s flesh, which made them smell so horribly, that it was impossible to remain long near them. Their intelligence was on a par with the filth of their bodies. The most expressive signs were here of no avail. Gestures which the most dull-headed native of any South Sea island immediately understood, these savages either did not, or would not give themselves the trouble to comprehend. Of the superiority of the Europeans they appeared to have no idea, never expressing by the slightest sign any astonishment at the sight of the ship and the various objects on board. It would however be doing the Fuegians injustice to suppose them all on a level with these wretches. According to Forster, they were most likely outcasts from the neighboring tribes.
Mr. Darwin, as well as Sir James Ross, describes the Fuegians whom they met with in the Bay of Good Success and on Hermit Island as excellent mimics. “As often as we coughed or yawned,” says the former, “or made any odd motion, they immediately imitated us. Some of our party began to squint and look awry, but one of the young Fuegians (whose whole face was painted black, excepting a white band across his eyes) succeeded in making far more hideous grimaces. They could repeat with perfect correctness each word in any sentence we addressed them, and they remembered such words for some time. Yet we all know how difficult it is to distinguish apart the sounds in a foreign language.”
Close to the junction of Ponsonby Sound with the Beagle Channel, where Mr. Darwin and his party spent the night, a small family of Fuegians soon joined the strangers round a blazing fire. They seemed well pleased, and all joined in the chorus of the seamen’s songs. During the night the news had spread, and early in the morning other Fuegians arrived. Several of these had run so fast that their noses were bleeding, and their mouths frothed from the rapidity with which they talked; and with their naked bodies all bedaubed with black, white, and red, they looked like so many demons.
These people plainly showed that they had a fair notion of barter. Mr. Darwin gave one man a large nail (a most valuable present) without making any signs for a return; but he immediately picked out two fish, and handed them up on the point of his spear. Here at least we see signs of a mental activity favorably contrasting with the stolid indifference of the Fuegians seen by Forster at Christmas Harbor; and Mr. Darwin is even of opinion that in general these people rise above the Australians in mental power, although their actual acquirements may be less.
The reason why the Fuegians are so little advanced in the arts of life, are partly to be sought for in the nature of the land, and partly in their political state. The perfect equality among the individuals in each tribe must retard their civilization; and until some chief shall arise with power sufficient to secure any acquired advantage, such as the domesticated animals, it seems scarcely possible that their condition can improve. But the chief causes of their wretchedness are doubtless the barrenness of their country and their constant forced migrations.
With the exception of the eastern part, the habitable land is reduced to the stones on the beach. In search of food they are compelled to wander from spot to spot; and so steep is the coast that they can only move about in their canoes. Whenever it is low water, winter or summer, night or day, they must rise to pick limpets from the rock; and the women either dive to collect sea-eggs, or sit patiently in their boats, and with a baited hair-line, without any hook, jerk out little fish. If a seal is killed, or the floating carcass of a putrid whale discovered, it is a feast; and such miserable food is assisted by a few tasteless berries, chiefly of a dwarf arbutus, or by a globular bright yellow fungus (Cyttaria Darwini), which grows in vast numbers on the beech-trees. When young, it is elastic, with a smooth surface; but, when mature, it shrinks, becomes tougher, and has its entire surface deeply pitted or honey-combed. In this mature state it is collected in large quantities by the women and children, and is eaten uncooked. It has a mucilaginous, slightly sweet taste, with a faint smell like that of a mushroom.
The necessity of protecting themselves against the extremity of cold, and of obtaining their food from the sea, or by the chase of the reindeer or the white bear, forces the Esquimaux to exert all their faculties, and thus they have raised themselves considerably higher in the scale of civilization than the Fuegians, whose mode of life requires far less exertion of the mind. To knock a limpet from the rock or to collect a fungus does not even call cunning into exercise. Living chiefly upon shell-fish, they are obliged constantly to change their abode, and thus they hardly bestow any thought on their dwellings, which are more like the dens of wild beasts than the habitations of human beings. The Fuegian wigwam consists of a few branches stuck in the ground, and very imperfectly thatched on one side with a few tufts of grass and rushes. The whole can not be the work of an hour, and it is only used for a few days. At intervals, however, the inhabitants of these wretched huts return to the same spot, as is evident from the piles of old shells, often amounting to several tons in weight. These heaps can be distinguished at a distance by the bright green color of certain plants, such as the wild celery and scurvy grass, which invariably grow on them.
The only articles in the manufacture of which the Fuegians show some signs of ability are a few ornaments and their weapons, which again are far inferior to those of the Esquimaux. Their bows are small and badly shaped, their arrows, which are between two and three feet long, feathered at one end and blunted at the other. The points are only attached when the arrow is about to be used, and for this purpose the archer carries them about with him in a leathern pouch. The shaft of their larger spears is about ten feet long, and equally thick at both ends. At one of the extremities is a fissure, into which a pointed bone with a barbed hook is inserted and tightly bound with a thread. With this weapon they most probably attack the seals; they also use it to detach the shell-fish from the rocks below the surface of the water. A second spear, longer and lighter than the first, with a barbed point, serves most likely as a weapon of war; and a third one, much shorter and comparatively thin, may perhaps be destined for the birds. The females know how to make pretty necklaces of colored shells and baskets of grass stalks. Here, as with all other races of mankind, we find the germs of improvement, which only require for their development the external impulse of more favorable circumstances.
If it be asked whether they feel themselves as miserable as their wretched appearance would lead us to believe them, it must be replied that most travellers describe them as a cheerful, good-humored, contented people; and as Mr. Darwin finely remarks, “Nature, by making habit omnipotent and its effects hereditary, has fitted the Fuegian to the climate and the productions of his country.”
The number of these savages is no doubt very small, as seldom more than thirty or forty individuals are seen together. The interior of the mountainous islands, which is as little known as the interior of Spitzbergen, is no doubt completely uninhabited; as the coasts alone, with the exception of the eastern and more level part of the country, where the guanaco finds pasture, are able to furnish the means of subsistence. The various tribes, separated from each other by a deserted neutral territory, are nevertheless engaged in constant feuds, as quarrels are perpetually arising about the possession of some limpet-bank or fishing-station. When at war they are cannibals; and it is equally certain that when pressed in winter by hunger they kill and devour their old women before they kill their dogs, alleging as an excuse that their dogs catch otters, and old women do not.
It has not been ascertained whether they have any distinct belief in a future life. They sometimes bury their dead in caves, and sometimes in the mountain forests. Each family or tribe has a wizard, or conjuring doctor. Their language, of which there are several distinct dialects, is likewise little known; it is, however, far inferior to the copious and expressive vocabulary of the Esquimaux.
In 1830, while Captain Fitzroy was surveying the coasts of Fuegia, he seized on a party of natives as hostages for the loss of a boat which had been stolen, and some of these natives, as well as a child belonging to another tribe, whom he bought for a pearl button, he took with him to England, determining to educate them at his own expense. One of them afterwards died of the smallpox; but a young girl, Fuegia Basket, and two boys, Jemmy Button (thus named from his purchase-money) and York Minster (so called from the great rugged mountain of York Minster, near Christmas Sound), were placed in a school at Walthamstow, and moreover had the honor of being presented to King William and Queen Adelaide. Three years Jemmy and his companions remained in England, at the end of which time Captain Fitzroy was again sent out to continue the survey, and took with him these three Fuegians, intending to return them to the place whence they had come. In this, however, he was disappointed; but at their own request York and Fuegia were, with Jemmy, deposited at Woollya, a pleasant looking spot in Ponsonby Sound, belonging to Jemmy’s tribe. His family, consisting of his mother and three brothers, was absent at the time, but they arrived the following morning. Jemmy recognized the stentorian voice of one of his brothers at a prodigious distance, but the meeting, as Mr. Darwin, who witnessed the scene, relates, was less interesting than that between a horse turned out into a field and an old companion. There was no demonstration of affection; they simply stared for a short time at each other. Three large wigwams were built for them, gardens planted, and an abundant supply of every thing landed for their use. Jemmy, who had become quite a favorite on board, was short and fat, but vain of his personal appearance; he used always to wear gloves, his hair was neatly cut, and he was distressed if his well-polished shoes were dirtied. York was somewhat coarse and less intelligent, though in some things he could be quick. He became attached to Fuegia, and as both were of the same tribe, they became man and wife after their return to Tierra del Fuego. She was the most intelligent of the three, and quick in learning any thing, especially languages.
Thus these semi-civilized savages were left among their barbarous countrymen, with the hope that they might become the means of improving their whole tribe; but when Captain Fitzroy returned to the spot twelve months after, he found the wigwams deserted and the gardens trampled under foot. Jemmy came paddling up in his canoe, but the dandy who had been left plump, clean, and well-dressed, was now turned into a thin, haggard savage, with long, disordered hair, and naked, except a bit of a blanket round his waist. He could still speak English, and said that he had enough to eat, that he was not cold, and that his relations were very good people. He had a wife besides, who was decidedly the best-looking female in the company. With his usual good feeling, he brought two beautiful otter skins for two of his best friends, and some spearheads and arrows made with his own hands for the captain. He had lost all his property. York Minster had built a large canoe, and with his wife Fuegia had, several months since, gone to his own country, and had taken farewell by an act of consummate villainy. He persuaded Jemmy and his mother to come with him, and then on the way deserted them by night, stealing every article of their property. It was the opinion of all on board that the cunning rogue had planned all this long before, and that with this end in view he had desired so earnestly to remain with Jemmy’s tribe rather than be landed on his own country. Eight years after an English vessel put into a bay in the Magellans for water, and there was found a woman, without doubt Fuegia Basket, who said, “How do? I have been to Plymouth and London.” York Minster was also seen in 1851. From Captain Snow, commander of the mission yacht “Allen Gardiner,” we have the last accounts of Jemmy Button in 1855. Twenty-three years had not obliterated his knowledge of the English language, but he was as wild and shaggy as his untaught countrymen. In spite of his superior knowledge, he was treated as a very inferior personage by the members of his tribe; yet he declared that though he loved England, he loved his country still better; that nothing should induce him to leave it, and that he would never allow any of his children to quit their native soil.
Other efforts have been made to civilize the Fuegians. A Spanish vessel having been shipwrecked on the eastern coast in 1767, its crew was hospitably treated by the natives, who even assisted in saving the cargo. Out of gratitude, the Governor of Buenos Ayres sent out some missionaries, who, however, totally failed to make any impression on the savages.
A no less unsuccessful attempt was made about the year 1835 by English missionaries; and the expedition of Captain Gardiner, who, accompanied by a surgeon, a catechist, and four Cornish fishermen, sailed to Fuegia in 1851, with the intention of converting the natives, proved equally fruitless, and had a far more tragic end. His measures for securing the necessary supplies of food were so ill calculated that the whole party died of hunger in Spaniards’ Harbor, on the southern coast. Captain Morshead, of the “Dido,” had received orders on his way to Valparaiso to visit the scene of the mission, and afford Captain Gardiner any aid he might require, but, on arriving at the cove, he found it deserted. After a few days’ search the bodies were discovered, and fragments of a journal written by Captain Gardiner gave proof of the sufferings which they had endured before death relieved them from their misery. The spot has received the name of Starvation Beach.