After the obsequies of the dead had been hurriedly performed—a description of which is reserved for another place—the tents were struck, and all marched off, the men remaining armed, and each party travelling separately. Cayuke was sent back some miles to ascertain if there were any signs of the other Southern Indians, who were half expected to overtake us; but he returned some hours later with no intelligence. We marched a few miles up the valley, rather coasting the northern hills, and encamped by a most beautiful circular spring, the water bubbling up through pure white sand and forming a tiny brook, while little fishes darted across in the basin. The Indians still remained with arms ready to hand—were very silent and ate nothing. Several of the Northerns came into our toldo towards evening, and remained a long time conversing by the embers of the fire, and ever and anon one of the widows of the deceased would break out into a wail of lamentation, sobbing in the most dismal and melancholy manner, the lament at times being taken up by some of the older hags.
On the following day Crimè sent for me to dress his leg, imagining, of course, that I understood surgery; so I washed the wound and bandaged it with cold water bandages, which appeared to be successful, as in a few days it inconvenienced him but little. Thence proceeding to Casimiro’s toldo—the smallest I ever saw—I got him to cover my saddle with a guanaco skin I had obtained on the road. The children appeared to be the only members of the party unaffected by the prevailing gloom. They had found a snow-bank in a nook, and amused themselves sliding down it on a bit of wood à la Russe. This evening things looked very black again. A consultation was held in Orkeke’s toldo, and although it was carried on in a low tone, and I was little conversant with the Tehuelche tongue, I heard my name frequently mentioned in connection with a revolver, and also the Chilians. I was much puzzled at what was going on, but as Mrs. Orkeke brought me some supper in the most gracious and smiling manner, did not trouble myself more than to overhaul my arms quietly, and see they were ready for use. I subsequently found out that a plot had been set on foot amongst the Chilians to rise, rob, and murder the Indians, and escape with the horses. Some, however, my informant among the number, refused to join. The Indians, who are naturally quick-sighted, had conceived a suspicion that all was not right, and were debating whether it would not be better to kill the Chilians at once, before they became more troublesome; but Casimiro prevailed on them to let them remain until they did something to necessitate their destruction; and so they escaped for the present.
September 5th, at an early hour, we were awoke by Orkeke’s marching harangue; and after coasting the hills bordering the valley for a few miles, bade adieu to the valley of the Rio Chico, and struck into a gorge of the northern hills, leading into an uneven valley lying between low irregular hills of decomposed lava, which we followed, passing several small lagoons in the lower hollows, around which there was invariably a yellow description of clay. The hills were everywhere covered with scrub, and presented a wild, bleak appearance, the grey rocks only appearing now and then. After some hours’ travelling through this dismal district in a north-west course, we emerged on a large plain at the western side, bounded by a range of hills 1,000 feet high, forming a spur of the Cordillera. The weather was stormy, and we could only catch occasional glimpses, through the driving clouds and snow-storms, of the loftier peaks of the more distant mountains. Our expedition in search of wild horses was, of course, after the recent troubles, abandoned; and forced marches, to escape the Southern Indians, in the event of their following from Santa Cruz, were the order of the day. Hunting, however, was resumed by the unwounded, and several ostriches were caught during the day. Towards evening the encampment was fixed near a lagoon, the environs of which were barren, and destitute of anything except a small low shrub which served for firewood. Although the wind was northerly, it was bitterly cold; and as I had for some days past adopted the native costume—keeping my ‘store clothes’ stowed away under charge of Mrs. Orkeke—I felt it exceedingly. The 6th, 7th, and 8th of September were occupied in making forced marches northward, accompanied by the usual hunting; and although both parties continued armed, and appeared to be rather suspicious of each other, things went on pretty smoothly. The country traversed on the 6th and 7th was a large arid plain, dotted with a few stunted shrubs, enclosed by the before-mentioned spur of the Cordillera on the western side, and on the east by a low range of sandy-looking hills. The whole of this plain was strewn with small pebbles of porphyry, quartz, silica, and obsidian; also with small pieces of silicified wood. On the 8th we crossed the spur by a pass walled on either hand with rocks of vesicular lava. Here we halted for a quarter of an hour, and everyone broke off pieces of stone suitable for making hand-balls for bolas. The descent on the western side was no easy matter, the declivity being strewn with large masses of rock and loose boulders, and the wind blowing bitterly cold, and with such force that some of the women’s horses could hardly face it. Ultimately all managed to reach a spacious elevated pampa, on the western side of which, some fifteen leagues off, rose the Cordillera of the Andes. In the pass I observed several large pieces of obsidian, so clear and peculiarly round-shaped that I at first imagined that a demijohn had been carried thither by some previous party and broken. Of this the women gathered some pieces, to serve as scrapers for cleaning guanaco skins. We traversed the usual barren high pampa—interspersed with low shrubs, coarse grass, and here and there an incense bush of considerable size, which afforded a moment’s shelter from the cutting wind—for some distance, till we at length reached a cliff, below which lay a grassy plain, watered by a small, rapid stream. About thirty miles in the background were visible the lofty mountains of the Cordillera. The inviting appearance of the pasture determined us to remain for a couple of days to rest the horses, after the unusually long marches of the preceding days. The following day was occupied chiefly in making hand-balls for bolas from the soft porous stone obtained in the rocky pass. Towards noon a frightful gale of wind sprang up, which blew down most of the toldos; but ours, thanks to the strength of arm of Mrs. Orkeke, who had securely fixed the poles, remained firm, only one or two of the poles being broken. The river, here flowing in an eastward direction, was the first stream met with since leaving the valley of the Rio Chico. In the descent to it, the bench formation, although recognisable, was not so much marked as in many of the other rivers. After two days’ rest, we resumed our journey; and having traversed the grassy valley for, perhaps, a mile, ascended a slight ridge to a higher plain of the usual sterile nature, in which the first ostrich eggs met with were found. Our course was directed nearly north-west, to a range of hills 800 feet in height; on their summit was a plateau strewn with large stones and rocks.
We formed another hunt, in which numerous ostriches and several pumas were killed. From the western side of the plateau we overlooked a large plain, extending to the immediate vicinity of the mountains, but near the side of which there appeared to be a cutting or steep descent, just like a railway embankment. As it had been announced in the cacique’s address that we were to encamp near a spring on the eastern side, and I had killed an ostrich, which, after giving a sharp run of half a mile, had been turned by the cavalcade of women, I proceeded in company with Casimiro and another to have some dinner. We accordingly selected a bush, cooked, and ate our bird, and at the conclusion of our meal mounted and proceeded to where we expected to find the encampment. But, arriving at the spot, we found nobody, and looking over the plain caught a glimpse of a belated woman just vanishing down the cutting above mentioned. We accordingly followed, and an hour’s gallop brought us up with the remainder. The sun had set, but the light of a young moon enabled us to make our way to the second bench. I may say the formation altogether much resembled that of the river Cuheyli; but the river which flowed in this valley was of small size, although, as we found, the banks were boggy and almost impracticable. The moon had by this time set, and after a considerable deal of confusion in the dark, all got across, and night being far advanced encamped about a mile to the northward. When daylight enabled us to examine the locality, we found ourselves in a valley, walled in by lofty abrupt cliffs on both sides, while a stream—bordered by marshes, containing numerous snipe and teal—flowed swiftly down the centre of the glen. To the north the valley appeared to bend westwards, so having nothing to do, I strolled up to the turn and found that the high cliffs ceased, and were replaced by the ordinary steep barrancas, covered from the top to the bottom with incense bushes. The valley nowhere exceeded a mile in width, and the gloom and oppressive effect of the prison-like walls of cliff rendered it by no means a desirable place of abode, but the pasture skirting the marsh was green and luxuriantly tender. While I was endeavouring to secure some ducks and teal with the bolas, two of the Chilians came up searching for firewood. They bitterly bewailed their lot in having to work and slave for a parcel of savages, but finally forgot their grievances in a slumber under a bush. Not caring to be supposed to have been in their company, I returned to the camp, and examined the rocks, which were different to those previously observed, showing in many places granite, with schistose veins, and what appeared to be a species of grey marble. A stay was made in this place of some four days, and would have been longer, but that on the third day some of the party, chiefly boys, who had strolled away a short distance, balling small birds, came in with the news that Indians were coming from the south. A scout was immediately sent out, horses brought up, and arms got ready. Casimiro came to me for a supply of cartridges for the revolver, saying, ‘Now we shall have to fight; for if those Southern Indians beat us, they will spare neither man, woman, nor child.’ This was cheering news, seeing that the odds were likely to be about ten to one against our side. However, just as we were mounting, the scout returned with the news that he had found no traces of Indians; the supposed enemy being only a troop of guanaco coming down to water. Cayuke, on its being ascertained that there was really no danger, had one of his horses killed as a thank offering; the meat of course being distributed for food amongst his friends. There is in this place, which is called by the Indians ‘Amakaken,’ a large spherical boulder of marble, which it is the custom of the Indians to try their strength by lifting. Casimiro informed me that this stone had been there for many years, and the custom was very old. It was so large and heavy that I was just able to grasp it with both arms, and raise it to the level of my knees, but some of the Indians managed to lift it to their shoulders. The night subsequent to the false alarm, snow fell heavily, notwithstanding which on the following day the Indians, who did not appear to feel secure, marched again in a northerly direction. Before quitting this valley, I was fortunate enough to find an ostrich nest with four eggs in it, which we devoured later on, cooked in the ashes by the simple method of placing the egg upright, with a hole broken in the upper surface, through which a piece of stick is inserted to stir round the yolk and white, a little salt being thrown in, and the egg turned to ensure all sides being equally done; the result being an omelette in the shell of most appetising flavour, but a novice in this cookery is apt to burn his fingers in turning the egg. Towards night we entered a dark and gloomy gorge, winding amongst fantastic and confused cliffs and peaked hills, thrown together in utterly chaotic confusion, which appeared to form a barrier east and west. But it was impossible accurately to distinguish the line, so inextricably were the heights jumbled together. My powers of description are utterly inadequate to convey the idea of the formless irregularity of this region of rocky hills.
At a late hour we encamped in a glen, or corrie, apparently without a second outlet, and walled in by frowning cliffs, down the midst of which a torrent foamed in a rocky channel. All the next day our march continued through a barren desert of rocks, frequently intersected by deep ravines with precipitous cliffs, the faces of which in many places displayed beds of red and yellow ochre, visible at a great distance. From some of these the women, after a scramble, replenished their supplies of paint. The whole face of this district was torn and tossed, as if by tremendous explosive force; and, except in some deep-lying clay bottoms, where an occasional shallow lagoon was to be met with, the track was waterless; snow lay on the heights and in some places on the ground traversed by our march, in the course of which a number of the large ibises, called in Chili bandurria (Theristicus melanopis), were seen. The nature of the country rendered hunting laborious and useless. Tankelow, however, found an ostrich and nest, the eggs from which, about thirty in number, he, according to Indian custom, divided among those who came up before they were removed from the nest; among these lucky individuals was myself; for, seeing him make to the spot, and the male bird get up, and being, moreover, well mounted and exceedingly hungry, I was among the first arrivals. Far away to the right of our track, extending thirty or forty miles eastwards, lies a district called by the Indians ‘The Devil’s Country,’ which, they assured me, is never entered, probably from the barren and impracticable nature of the surface, which seems, from description, to be even worse than the wilderness traversed by us. Beyond this district there is a practicable track, sometimes followed by the Indians, leading northward, probably used as a route to the Chupat; but from that line to the sea the country is so impassable that the Indians say it would require two years to proceed by the sea-coast from Santa Cruz to the Rio Negro. The existence of such tracks as these, and the desolate Travisias encountered near the coast, have probably caused Patagonia to be described as an arid, almost waterless country; but, in reality, after passing the coast barrier most of the interior abounds in lagoons, springs, and frequent streams; and, even in the Travisias, the numerous wild animals met with show that water exists.
Towards evening we left the snow behind us; and descending a lofty hill, which had bounded our view all day, came to a large swelling down, from which the prospect was far more encouraging. Rolling plains extended to the north and north-east, whilst the Cordillera rose like a wall on the western side. This hill is called by the Indians ‘God’s Hill;’ and the tradition, as communicated by Casimiro, relates that from this spot the Great Spirit dispersed the animals which he had made in the caverns. But some of the animals must have remained behind, as, out on the lower slope of the downs, two pumas were chased and killed. An hour’s ride over a sandy plain brought us to a valley with a stream flowing through beautifully green pasture. This was the spot chosen for our encamping, and some of the women were already busy planting the poles that form the skeleton of the toldos; so, turning my horse adrift, I started down to the stream, and, after the luxury of a bath, lay down and smoked until the toldos were thoroughly arranged. The following day a short march was made, in a north-west direction, to a valley containing better pasture; here it was intended to give the horses much-needed repose. Meanwhile, however, meat fell short, so a circle was organised; my horse was too tired; but Orkeke, seeing me standing unprepared, said, ‘Ask Ako (his pet dog, and adopted child, and in virtue of his office the owner of several horses) to lend you a horse.’ As Ako had no objection I was soon mounted, and started for the chase in high spirits. On our previous journey we had remarked numerous tracks of what appeared to be ostrich near the ground where our present circle was to be formed (viz., in the direction of the Cordillera), and all expected to find plenty of game. The circle was formed, myself going as one pointsman; and, after arriving at the point, I watched anxiously for some time, but the only animal that appeared was a male guanaco, which, as he did not see me crouched behind an incense-bush, until he came within shot, I successfully balled and killed. After waiting a little longer, and the Indians being moderately near at hand, I changed my position a few hundred yards, to a more likely spot; but no animals appeared, so I proceeded in search of Orkeke, whom I shortly discovered smoking on the top of a small eminence. After the pipe had been passed in silence, I asked him what he had killed. ‘Nothing,’ was the answer; ‘let’s wait and see; perhaps some other Indian has an ostrich.’ A careful survey, however, failed to discover anyone so lucky, although several had killed guanaco. So we retired to where my dead guanaco lay uncovered: at our approach two or three condors rose heavily up; and shortly about twenty or thirty more spread their huge wings, sailed away, and perched on a neighbouring rock. As for the guanaco, in the short half hour of my absence it had been literally torn to pieces; so, after extracting and eating the marrow-bones, we returned to camp, on our way capturing two armadillos. During the past day or two the temperature had considerably risen, the wind, though westerly, was mild and genial, and the Indians affirmed that farther north it would be so warm that I should require some covering for the head. We found on our return that Arica during our absence had gone off somewhere on foot. As he had that morning asked and obtained some tobacco from me, it seemed probable that he had determined to attempt to make his way alone to reach civilisation at some point or other. During our stay in this valley Casimiro requested me to write a letter for him to the commandante at the Rio Negro, inquiring whether the Argentine Government still allowed him his ration and pay as lieut.-colonel in their service. I also wrote some letters to my friends, but without much hope of their being ‘mailed;’ though Casimiro assured me that when we joined the Northern Indians they would forward them to the Araucanos, whence they might go on by the people who went to Rio Negro to fetch the chief’s allowance of cattle; remote, however, as were all these contingencies, still it was a pleasure to write. We quitted the valley after three days’ rest, during which Arica had not appeared, and he was concluded either to have fallen a prey to a puma, or to have gone off on his own account. We journeyed all day over a rough hilly country, encumbered with large stones and occasional patches of scrub of considerable height; ostriches abounded, and large quantities of eggs were found. During a long march of about thirty miles no water was seen until we reached the camp at sunset, situated in a cañon; but along the route an occasional patch of snow sufficed to quench our thirst. As I rode along in company with an Indian, named ‘Tchang,’ he began asking me questions: first, ‘Who is cacique of the English?’ I explained to him that it was Her Gracious Majesty. ‘Is she married?’ ‘She is a widow.’ ‘Has she any children, and how many? Has she lots of horses and mares and silver ornaments?’ And so on, until I had satisfied him; after which he rode along, repeating, ‘A woman cacique! A woman cacique! Four sons and five daughters! Lots of horses, mares, sheep, and cattle!’ On the 22nd of September we left the encampment in the cañon about sunrise, and, mounting the ridge on the north side, halted close to the grave of an Indian; the broad and high cairn of stones erected over it denoting him to have been a cacique of importance, which fact was communicated to me in a low whisper by Wáki. Here a fire was made, and a few stones added to the pile. Whilst the Indians were warming themselves the sun rose, and the view of the Cordillera, seen through the clear atmosphere, with the sun’s first rays illuminating the snowy mountain summits with a roseate flush, was magnificent. We pursued our route over sandy plains, crossed at intervals by shallow streams of water, and halted near some lagoons in a place called by the Indians ‘Kinck.’
The following day we marched again, hunting as usual on the way. A fat ostrich at this time of the year was a rarity, but eggs abounded, and formed the main staple of food; and the armadillos were also getting into condition, and assisted to furnish a repast at the camp fire. On the 27th we arrived at a place named ‘Gelgel,’ situated on the banks of a rapid river, probably that debouching at Port Desire. This was the point of divergence from the northern route to Patagones for any party proceeding to hunt in the western plains. During our stay in Gelgel we hunted in the surrounding country, and on several occasions observed columns of smoke to the south, as if made by a party approaching. These at last appeared nearer, and as no distinct answer was made to our signal fires, scouts were sent out, but returned with no information, one, however, asserting that he had found the tracks of many horses, but his known character as an incorrigible liar made his statement valueless. Still everybody became at last convinced that the Northern Indians were at war with the Araucanos, and consequently preparations to fight were commenced. After a watchful night, all fires out, and silence strictly observed, all armed, and mounting their best horses, sallied out. After a while the cause of the whole disturbance turned out to be Arica, who had wandered for eleven days on foot, following our track, subsisting on birds’ eggs, and narrowly escaping the pumas, though he had been more than once attacked by them in broad daylight, and had killed one with his knife, his story being vouched for by the boots he had contrived to manufacture out of his deceased enemy’s skin. He looked worn and haggard, his feet were sore, and he told me that another night would have finished him. The Indians, who—owing to his desertion and subsequent pursuit of us—had been kept on the alert all night, without fire, and prohibited from conversing, were naturally indignant, and wanted to kill him. But Casimiro and Orkeke interceded for him, and he was brought back to the toldos behind another horseman. Casimiro, apropos of these signal fires, related to me a curious story, as follows:—‘Many years ago, when I was quite young, I was travelling a few leagues to the northward, under my mother’s charge. The party encamped near a large lagoon not far from the Sengel river, and were occupied in hunting in the neighbourhood. On several days in succession smoke was observed in different directions, which approached nearer and nearer each time. Being naturally supposed to be caused by the Indians, it was answered, and scouts were at last sent to ascertain the cause, as no messengers appeared. They returned, however, stating that they could discover nothing. At the end of four days an Indian, tall, gaunt, and emaciated, mounted on a very thin mule, arrived in the camp, and asked for a chief whose name was unknown. The stranger was taken, as is customary, to the chief’s toldo, and his mule turned loose; but, strange to say, it never moved from the spot where it was unsaddled, and the Indian during the time he remained in the toldo neither ate nor drank. At the end of three days he mounted his mule, which appeared as fresh as when he arrived, and rode away to the northward. On the following day, whilst hunting, a sickness struck the Indians—some falling dead from their horses, while others, though able to return home, only survived a short time. As is usual when disease breaks out, the toldos were removed to some distance from each other, to escape infection, but many men, women, and children died.’ Of the fact that a plague or sickness did cause the deaths of many Indians within a few days at some encampment in these plains, I received further and reliable confirmation, my informant, who was in the party, stating that the Pampa tribe was decimated.
In the cliffs above the river on the eastern side of our encampment I observed many balls of sandstone of various sizes. On breaking one in two, a piece of what seemed to be ironstone formed a nucleus, around which layers of sand appeared to have been aggregated. By what process these balls could have been formed was to me a mystery; but they proved very handy for bolas, only requiring to be slightly reduced in size. Hunting to the westward from the encampment, we came across several muddy, or rather clayey bogs, into one of which, when in full pursuit of an ostrich, I rode, and my horse sank deep, throwing his rider a complete summersault; and with much ado I first picked up myself, and then with greater difficulty extricated my horse from the tenacious morass.
After Arica’s return, the Chilians manifested a restless spirit, and frequently asked me the direction of the Chupat settlement. I replied that it lay about 150 leagues to the E.N.E. from this point, as far as I could judge; but that it would be better for them to remain with the Indians, and do the women’s work of providing wood and water, &c., than to start off into a wild and dreary pampa, where they would inevitably starve without a knowledge of the route or guides.
During our stay here I nearly fell a victim to a matrimonial entanglement. A fair young Indian, whose hair cut across the forehead denoted widowhood, moreover having several mares and considerable possessions, to whom I had perhaps paid some slight attention, proposed that I should set up toldo with her. This was quite out of my programme of the journey, but inasmuch as the alliance might prove useful, as well as agreeable, and feeling lonely in the absence of any particular friend, I half agreed; so a go-between was despatched to arrange the dowry, and it was settled that I should give a revolver in exchange for two horses to be provided by the fair one’s friends. However, the evening before the happy day on which we were to have been united, the alarm came, and as she belonged to the Southern Indians, I thought better of giving up my arms; so I assigned as a reason for withdrawing from the bargain, that I did not wish to leave my friend Orkeke’s toldo. I have no doubt that her people, desiring the help of my firearms, had suggested the match to secure me to support their side. The lady at first was rather disgusted, but soon got over it, and we remained on our former friendly terms.