He was so tall, says an old chronicler of this voyage, that the head of a middling-sized man reached only to his waist; he was well-proportioned; his visage was large and painted with different colors, principally with yellow. There were red circles about his eyes and something like a beard was pictured on either cheek. His hair was colored white and his apparel was the skin of some beast, laced together, the head of which appeared to have been very large. It had ears like a mule, the body of a camel, and the tail of a horse: the skin of it was wrapped about his feet in the manner of shoes. In his hand was a short, thick bow and a bundle of arrows, made of reeds and pointed with sharp stones.
Magellan invited the giant Patagonian on board his flagship, and, when the old fellow had mounted the rope-ladder leading over the side, presented him with hawk’s bells, a comb, some blue beads, and a looking glass, into which the dusky-hued savage took a glance.
“Hu—rruu!!” No sooner had he seen his own horrid appearance than he started backwards, with such violence, that he knocked down two sailors who were standing behind him. He slipped, fell down on the deck, and, when he arose, stood there shivering. His own face, never seen before, had terrorized him. After awhile he was rowed ashore, still quaking and rolling his eyes with unpleasant recollections of what he had seen.
The Spaniards laughed heartily at what had occurred, but the next day a man of still greater stature came to visit them. He sang some native songs, danced on the deck, and brought out some skins which he traded for glass beads and other trinkets. Then he disappeared and did not return, which led the voyagers to the belief that his countrymen had made away with him because of the friendship which they had shown towards him.
This did not deter other natives from paddling out to the ships, and four soon came on board. These were presented with beads, with bells, and similar trifles. But the Spaniards determined to trick them, so fastened iron shackles around the ankles of two of them, as if for ornaments. The ignorant Indians professed great delight with the shining bands of metal, but, when they were ready to leave the vessel, the fraud was discovered. It was certainly a cruel way to treat the poor South Americans.
As for the other two, they dove over the side of the vessel and swam to land, as soon as they perceived what had happened to their companions, who began to roar “as loud as bulls,” and implored the assistance of their God, the great devil Setebos. It was of no avail. The Spaniards would not let them go and took them with them when they sailed further south. They called them Patagonians, for their feet were covered with skins, and the Portuguese word pata means a hoof or paw.
Now trouble beset Magellan, the same kind of trouble which Columbus had with his men. His followers grew rebellious, and threatened to break into open mutiny. Winter was at hand, and the ships were laid up for the cold weather, but this forced inactivity made the sailors begin to think about home, and they grew restless and discontented. They requested their commander to set sail for Spain, but this he refused to do. The sailors talked the matter over, and their sense of oppression grew stronger and stronger. So they decided to take possession of the ships, put the Admiral to death, imprison or kill such of the superior officers as refused to acknowledge the authority of the mutineers, and to return to Spain with a story that their commander had been swept overboard in a storm.
The leader of this conspiracy was one Luis de Mendoza, who was assisted by a Roman Catholic priest, Juan de Carthagena, who had accompanied the expedition so that the Spaniards might not be without spiritual assistance during their roving trips into unknown seas. Fortunately for the Admiral this plot was disclosed to him in time to prevent its execution. He had a trial and found the mutineers guilty. Many were sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered.
But the priest was allowed to have his life, for the Spaniards were too good Catholics to harm any one who had devoted his days to the Church. Carthagena was not injured; but was simply put under arrest, guarded by one of the captains. The man of God was forced into the stocks: an instrument made of two pieces of wood placed one upon the other and pierced by two holes in which were inserted the legs of the person who was to be punished.
There were many others who were less guilty than Mendoza, but who were deserving of punishment. To have retained these on board, after a short period of imprisonment, was to invite another mutiny, so Magellan determined to put the remaining mutineers on shore and leave them to the mercy of the native Patagonians. They were seated in the boats, were landed, and the ships sailed southward, never to return.