At home with the Patagonians

by George C. Musters

The sun was up before we got away, after warming and eating the last of our food, which we had cooked overnight: it was dry and dusty, and all the washing in the world could not have got the grit out of it; however, we laughed over it, saying we would soon have a bottle of wine to wash away the dirt from our throats. One thing we congratulated ourselves on was being well provided with tobacco, and although we boasted no pipe, mine having been lost at a previous encampment, Casimiro’s correspondence with Foyel and Cheoeque, which I had carefully kept, provided us with cigarette papers. We rode on accordingly, rejoicing, and passing out of this wooded country traversed a succession of high pampas, set with small blocks of granite exactly resembling paving stones, and placed as thickly and regularly as if paviors had been at work. The appearance of a London street undergoing repair brought this singular formation vividly to my mind. These pampas terminated in waterworn cliffs thickly strewn with stones, and as our horses scrambled like cats up the slopes, their hoofs sent the stones clattering down, and they found it hard to keep their footing. At the foot of the cliffs were watered valleys, and whilst descending into one of these valleys I noticed for the first time the algarroba thorn, which was in fruit. There were two sorts, one with black fruit, which Nacho warned me not to touch, as it was poisonous, the other bearing yellow pods, which though somewhat dry, as the season was so advanced, we plucked and ate as we rode along, the taste proving something between tamarinds and peach.

Near a lagoon in one of these valleys we halted for a few minutes, and on pursuing our journey espied a horseman with a troop of led horses approaching from the opposite side. I had halted for a moment and saw my companions rein up, and racing up to know the cause, observed him. When within 200 or 300 yards, all halted; and Nacho rode forward, and ceremonious explanations ensued, followed by formal introductions. He was a Pampa Indian outward bound to join those mentioned as having passed us eastward of Margensho; he gave us news that Jackechan’s, Teneforo’s, and other Indians were in a place called Trinita, some four hours’ gallop only distant. When he found that I was ‘Anglish,’ he spoke in high praise of my countrymen whom he had met in Rio Negro.

This man was a perfect picture; he was splendidly mounted, and had a troop of horses all as good as the one he bestrode. He was well dressed in ponchos and white drawers, and wore a silk handkerchief round his head. Over his saddle was a poncho containing, as we supposed, a store of yerba, flour, or other luxuries, and he had a bold, careless, good-humoured face, with restless eyes; altogether he gave one an idea of the imaginary generous bandits one reads of in novels, and to make the character complete it turned out afterwards that he had almost certainly stolen the horses from Trinita.

After five minutes’ conversation we started in opposite directions, and our party pressed on at speed. From the steep hill above the valley we saw, to our joy, the smoke of hunting parties, apparently not far off. However, it was four o’clock when we arrived in the vicinity of the fires in a green pastured valley. From one of the two toldos pitched there, a man emerged with a matè pot in his hand and a bombilia or reed used for imbibing matè, like straws for sherry cobblers, in his mouth. As these people proved not to be the Indians we wanted, after saluting him we galloped on, and crossing the valley, where we had to jump our horses over a brook, ascended the opposite hill. A new growth of bush growing 16 feet high, with long switches like osiers, forced itself unpleasantly on our attention, as, when riding fast, they sprang back into one’s face in the most painfully annoying manner. On the hillside we overtook and passed a caravan of women travelling in the same direction as ourselves, and from the summit of the range saw in the valley below two different groups of thirty to forty toldos each, about half a mile apart. Galloping on we arrived, about 5 P.M., at the nearest tolderia; but on inquiring for Patricio, to whom we had been directed to go by Casimiro, found that he belonged to the others, to which we proceeded, and were duly received, our horses, &c., taken care of, and ourselves ushered with all ceremony into the presence of Patricio (a half-bred Pampa and Tehuelche). After the hour’s etiquette of answering questions, we were each given one rib of a guanaco apiece to eat. I was so hungry that I could have eaten a dozen at least, so on the plea of washing started off to look for Jackechan’s toldo, which I shortly found, and was received with open arms by my friend and El Sourdo. After his ‘missus’ had given me some food, followed by the luxury of a matè with sugar, Jackechan related his proceedings subsequent to leaving our party.

After a few days’ march in the direction of the Chupat, he came across some cattle, which were caught and killed, and then, whilst in the same spot, he despatched the messenger to Chupat with the letter, who returned in fifteen days with an answer, but without any stores.

The letter, carefully wrapped in a piece of old linen which had served as the envelope to my own epistle, was ceremoniously handed to me by the light of a blaze produced by some grease thrown upon the fire. I read and interpreted the contents to Jackechan. The writer—Mr. Hughes, if I recollect rightly—expressed his pleasure at hearing of my safety, but regretted his inability to forward any stores or clothing, as the supply in the colony was extremely scanty, owing to the non-arrival of the ship with Mr. Lewis Jones on board, which had been expected for some months. It need scarcely be said that I had been quite unaware of the privations endured by these unfortunate colonists, which the despatches of Commander Dennistoun have made known to the public during the preparation of these pages for the press, and to which reference will be made in the ensuing chapter. Jackechan, after the return of his messenger, proceeded to Margensho, in the vicinity of which he met the parties under Teneforo, Patricio, Antonio, and other petty chiefs. These all united, and, sending into Patagones, obtained liquor and other stores, with which, as before mentioned, they had a drink for ten days, but no quarrels or fights took place—a fact which redounds to the credit of the chiefs. After waiting a month for our party, they, owing to the scarcity of game, had come by easy stages to this place (Trinita). Jackechan then explained that the first toldos were those of the Pampa Indians, under Teneforo and Champayo, the former being absent in Patagones, getting his rations of animals; his Indians are pure Pampas, and are often called Kerekinches,[11] or armadillos, for some reason unknown to me. Some of them are in the service of the Argentine Government, and liable to be called upon by Linares, chief of the Tame Indians. The remaining toldos were those belonging to the Indians under Antonio and Patricio, who were composed of mixed Tehuelches and Pampas. The two encampments were situated about half a mile apart, separated by a winding stream, in some places concealed by most unusually high reeds. The position was entirely surrounded on the eastern, southern, and western sides by high rocky eminences; but to the north the valley apparently continued for some miles: its breadth was about three miles, and everywhere in the vicinity of the stream, which in some places had overflowed its banks and formed a marsh, the most luxuriant pasture was growing.

On returning to Patricio’s toldo, I formally asked for the necessary horses to prosecute our journey, but was refused on the grounds of his having none to spare; so we determined, as our horses showed symptoms of fatigue and one was lame, to give them one day’s rest before proceeding. We passed the following day with our friends, and I made acquaintance with the petty chief Champayo, for whom I wrote a letter requesting a ration which was due to him. He was very civil, and presented an Indian to me named Luiz Aguirre. This man had been brought up in Patagones, whence he had received his names, his parents, I believe, having been killed. He was a very intelligent man, and had formerly been in the troop of Linares, but had left disgusted with the quarrelling and generally mutinous state of those Indians, and taken to the Pampa, where he could live a free and happy life with his wife—at least so he affirmed.

After we had taken various matès together, Champayo, on my mentioning the cause of our not proceeding that day, said, ‘Your people shall not want for horses. I will supply them, and send Luiz Aguirre in with you, and you can give him the answer about my ration.’ I afterwards visited, at his own request, the Cacique Antonio, for whom I also wrote a letter requesting that his ration should be sent to him at the Guardia of Sauce Blanco, as, owing to having lost his troop of horses in a storm, he could scarcely reach the Upper Guardia. This was true, as at the first toldos we had visited in the neighbouring valley in Trinita we had been informed of Antonio’s loss, which was most probably a gain to our well-dressed bandit friend; but he had some enemies on the road to Patagones, which was the real reason of his not going as far as the Upper Guardia.

After dinner, having asked me all about our proceedings, he commenced to give me advice as to what I should do on arriving at Patagones. He assured me that I should get employment readily, but especially cautioned me against drink, as the commandante disliked drunkards, and would not encourage them!