CHAPTER X. VALPARAISO.
In a few days after our ostrich-hunt, our preparations for leaving Wellington Sound and our kind Patagonian friends were complete. Walgilka was very pressing in his desire for us to defer our departure, promising us all the hunting we could desire, but duty was duty, so we bade farewell to him and his people, and hoisted sail.
The American Government had agents in the Chilian port of Valparaiso, whom it was important for Captain Joker to see, and it was therefore decided to make sail in that direction. Another inducement for entering Valparaiso was our scarcity of hands, owing to the depletion our crew had suffered through the many detachments we had been compelled to make in the way of prize-crews. We hoped to obtain some recruits among the merchantmen of Valparaiso. But there was even more difficulty in entering this port than we had experienced at Rio, because the former was then one of the principal rendezvous of the British Pacific squadron, and we expected little mercy if we should be so unfortunate as to run afoul of one of them.
Nevertheless, we had been so successful thus far that we were not by any means specially apprehensive. We had not lost a single man since we started. But now, on our way to Valparaiso, there was a little event happened on board the Queer Fish, which, though it at first appeared trifling, was afterward viewed in the light of importance.
Little Willie Warner, our pretty cabin-boy, received a severe contusion of the head by a fall down the companionway, and had to go under medical treatment in consequence. He had always been exceedingly quiet and reticent, but was beloved by the whole crew on account of his gentleness and beauty. Every kindness was now evinced for him from every quarter. The captain especially was very considerate. He allowed Roddy Prinn to be nearly altogether excused from duty, in order that he might wait upon his little chum—a favor for which Roddy was exceedingly grateful. The doctor—I have forgotten to mention him; he was a good old body by the name of Benedict—the doctor was very attentive to Willie Warner, and always had something encouraging to say about his charge.
But, one day, we noticed Doctor Benedict come hastily up from below, looking very queer in the face. He went up to Captain Joker, and spoke apart with him in low tones, when they both looked pretty serious, and there was an expression on the captain's smiling lips—they always smiled more or less—which I had never noticed them wear before. Well, we didn't know what to make of this mystery; and it was not cleared up for a long time afterward.
Willie got well and returned to his duties, but the captain and doctor were, somehow, kinder and more gentle with him than they had ever been before, and his duties were made as light as possible.
Before Willie's convalescence was thoroughly over, we arrived off Valparaiso, but did not dare to enter openly, for fear of being stopped at the entrance by a British man-o'-war. We expected a signal from our agents, and hung off the coast a long time, watching for it. But none appeared, and Captain Joker resolved to attempt an entrance at his own hazard.
Luckily, he was perfectly familiar with the harbor, and, choosing a dark and stormy night, we succeeded in running in, without meeting any molestation.
The tempest went off during the night, and the bright sunlight of the ensuing morning saw us riding safely at anchor, not forty fathoms from the city's wharves.
Valparaiso was a city of much less importance then than now, but it was, nevertheless, a smart seaport for that remote portion of the globe. It is built right at the water's edge, with the grand mountain-wall of the Andes running so stiffly, loftily and impenetrably up behind, that you wonder how the rays of the rising sun ever reach the little city nestled at their rocky feet. At least you think they must have daylight on the level pampas beyond many moments before it surmounts those mountains to reach the narrow strip of plain between them and the sea. There is a fine cathedral in the city now, but when I was there, the largest establishment of this kind appeared to be a wooden structure. It was surmounted by a great red, wooden cross, and every morning and evening, we heard the sweet music of the Catholic service come floating to us over the waters of the bay.
We only remained in this port a few days, but, while at anchor there, I was a party in a kind of sport seldom, probably never, met with in any other portion of the globe. This was nothing more nor less than a hunt for electric eels.
Tony Trybrace and I became acquainted, while at Valparaiso, with a Chilian gentleman named Jose Gonzales. He possessed a large landed estate in the interior, and, when Tony had told him of our ostrich hunt in Patagonia, invited us to visit him at his country place, and he would promise us sport of, at least, a more novel character. Dicky Drake begged us to have the invitation extended to him also, which was readily complied with by Don Jose. And, one morning, having obtained a three-days' "leave" of Captain Joker, we mounted some fine mules, and set forth with our pleasant host. A portion of our journey lay through mountain land—the outskirts of the Andes, and we had a good opportunity of observing the inhabitants of the country.
Chili is, at present, considered, and with justice, the first of South American countries in point of everything pertaining to population; and evidences of her future were not lacking in the year 1812. The Spanish population of the mountain region were a simple and hardy race; whose hospitality alone causes the heart of the stranger to warm toward them with a kindly thrill.
We saw a great many of the llamas of the country, more condors, as well as monkeys, and many other strange and interesting individuals of brute creation.
A ride of about six hours from Valparaiso brought us to the ranch of our host. It was most beautifully situated on the fertile table-land, and made me in love with South American rural life. As we approached the mansion, we passed several black-looking pools, or lagoons, and were much surprised when told, by our host, that they were to be our hunting-grounds.
As we rode by the largest of these lagoons, which was scarcely a furlong from the ranch, Don Jose drew a biscuit from his saddle-bags and tossed it into the middle of the still, black waters. Instantly, and before it touched the surface, the lifeless-looking lagoon was filled with a strange and horrible existence. Myriads of snakes (as they appeared) rose suddenly to the surface, and engaged in a furious combat for the floating biscuit. Presently we saw the little fins on either side of their necks, and we then knew them to be eels. Some of them were very large—from six to seven feet in length, I should judge—but they averaged a much briefer length. Presently one of the larger snapped the biscuit under the water, which caused a sudden disappearance of all of them. One little fellow, however, swam around the edge of the tarn, in hopes of more food, projecting his shining head out of the water, and even climbed up the slimy bank, eying us with a peculiarly villainous gaze from his dull, leaden-colored eyes. Here was a chance for Dicky Drake, for, of course, there was no liability of a scrape that he did not seize with avidity.
"I allers wanted a specimen of that cuss for my old uncle's cabinet at hum', and here's my chance!" he exclaimed, springing from his mule, and advancing, with hands innocently outstretched; while, from the peculiar expression of Don Jose's features, Tony and I suspected that there was something in the wind.
"I've got yer, yer varmint!" exclaimed Dicky, stooping joyfully over the reptile.
But no sooner did he clutch it than over he went, head over heels, with a bellow of pain, at the same time dropping the "critter" as if it was a candent thunderbolt.
"Don't give it up, Dicky! At him again!" roared Tony through his laughter.
"Bravo! Buena!" exclaimed the señor.
Smarting at the merriment which his mishap occasioned, Dicky picked himself up in a rage and again grabbed the reptile, which was making tracks for the water. But again he was knocked over by the electric shock, and the eel made its escape to the water.
The discomfited eel-catcher regained his feet, and slowly returned to his mule.
"Where's your specimen?" I asked.
Everybody else had something similar to say.
"Blast ther critter!" said Dicky, sulkily. "I never heer'd of a snake as was stuffed with red-hot needles afore."
With no other incident worthy of recording, our party soon arrived at the comfortable ranch of Don Jose.
The next day, at an early hour, we were summoned from our beds by the servants, and, descending, found our host already on muleback, with an eel-prong in his hand. Our mules and weapons of the same kind were awaiting us. We mounted and were soon on our way to the lagoon.
It was a glorious morning. The sun had not yet appeared, but the golden spears of his coming shot high above the sublime peaks of the Andes, gilding their ancient summits with a thousand hues, and flashing down, with a glittering swoop, upon the luxuriant plains. Everything was bright and blooming. Monkeys were leaping amid the branches of the tropical trees, and gaudy-plumed paroquets were flitting here and there; while the bright-green lizards glided across our path, rejoicing silently in the morning beams.
We reached the lagoon, which looked as lifeless and stagnant as ever. I was surprised at not seeing any boats; for I thought that, of course, they were necessary for the pursuit of our game. But they have a better, though more cruel, way of catching the festive eel in Chili.
We were accompanied by a large number of Don Jose's peons, who proceeded on foot, with legs bare as far up as the thigh, and each armed with an eel-prong, which is a four-pronged "trident," so to speak, sharply pointed, and provided with a wooden handle, or stalk, about four feet in length. They were a merry set, and kept up an incessant conversation and song in their mongrel Spanish, which the devil's interpreter couldn't understand.
We reached the margin of the lagoon, and waited there a short time, when we were aroused by a great trampling of the ground, and perceived a herd of some hundreds of wild horses and mules coming over the prairie toward the tarn at a thundering gait.
Don Jose now condescended to explain. These animals had been purposely kept without water for two days, and now, so soon as released, were rushing to the nearest lagoon to satisfy their fiery thirst. The character of the inhabitants of the pool was well known to them, and, under ordinary circumstances, not a horse or mule could be induced to put nose or foot into the electric waters. But now, maddened by thirst, and forgetful of everything but the frantic desire to satisfy it, they were making for the nearest water that glittered on the plain.
On came the thundering troop of steeds from the opposite side neighing and snorting, with their tongues lolling out. They burst through the chaparral and thick-growing cacti of the border, and in a moment were in the center of the pool—which was but a few rods in diameter.
Then commenced a scene which completely beggars description.
A most furious contest commenced between the animals and the electric-eels—who, thus suddenly aroused and trampled upon, were striking their strong enemies with all their power. Now and then an eel or two would flash up through the surface, but they were mostly invisible. The horses plunged frantically, uttering cries of agony almost human-like. They bit at the water, shrieked, and endeavored to reach the bank, but in vain. Stricken down by their unseen foes, many of them lost their legs, and went down, with difficulty keeping their heads above the water; and those that fell blocked the path of escape to those less fortunate. The appearance of the horses was most agonizing. Their manes fairly bristled with horror and pain, while it made me sick to hear their cries. The mules also suffered terribly, but not quite so acutely, it seemed to me, as the horses. Don Jose and his people enjoyed the scene immensely, shouting and crying out in the exuberance of their joy.
The singular contest lasted fully ten minutes, when it became evident that the fury of the attack of the eels was sensibly abating. In about five minutes more, the fear and pain of the horses and mules totally ceased. Those which had fallen regained their feet, and the whole herd, after quietly drinking their fill, left the pool, and galloped off over the pampas.
The reason of this was that the electric power of these eels becomes completely exhausted or expended after it has been exercised malignantly for a certain time, and it requires several hours of rest to recuperate their electric power. And during this time they are powerless of harm.
And now the peons advanced into the lagoon, brandishing their spears, while the Don, Tony, Dicky and myself dismounted and stood on the margin, watching our chance. The peons drove their prongs along the bottom, spiking the enfeebled reptiles, which they threw on the shore in great numbers, and then, retracing their steps, drove them toward our position on the bank, where we soon had our fill of the sport. The eels came up, first singly, then in knotted masses, and we darted our spears into them at our pleasure.
Dicky Drake enjoyed the sport hugely, but, as usual, met with some mishap. He had taken off his shoes, and was toddling barefoot in the slime, when he accidentally trod on an eel which had been prudent enough to hold off from the attack on the horses.
The poor fellow leaped back, with a loud scream, and went limping up the bank.
"Did you ever tread on a paper of red-hot pins?" he asked of me at the conclusion of the sport.
"Never did," I replied.
"If you'd like to know how it feels, just sot yer hoof on that air innocent-lookin' varmint," said he, pointing ruefully to the reptile by which he had suffered; but I had no anxiety to make the attempt.
At length we grew weary of the sport, left the peons to carry home the captured eels—which are much esteemed as an article of food—and proceeded on our return. Many thousands of eels were captured on that day.
We returned to the ranch and enjoyed ourselves in other, and less novel, ways than eel-hunting.
Before we left, our hospitable host showed us some curious relics of the ancient Indian inhabitants. These, from appearances, seem to have been mound-builders. We saw one of the mounds which had been excavated, and Don Jose, afterward, shewed us some specimens of earthenware and instruments of war—the latter fashioned of stone—which he had procured in the neighborhood.
We also made a short expedition with our host, to the crater of an extinct volcano, and looked with wonder, upon the vast basin, which had once—long, long ago, perhaps—vomited fire and lava upon the plains below.
Thanking our host for the pleasure he had afforded us, we, at the close of the second day, set out upon our return to Valparaiso, at which place we shortly arrived.
Captain Joker having transacted his business to his satisfaction, and the coast being clear of British cruisers, we, shortly afterward, weighed anchor, set all sail to catch the trade-winds, and danced out seaward and westward, intending to create an excitement among the British whalers of the South Pacific.