Travels in Peru, on the Coast, in the Sierra, Across the Cordilleras and the Andes, into the Primeval Forests

by Johann Jakob von Tschudi

Poverty and uncleanliness vie with each other in San Carlos. The lower class of the inhabitants are exceedingly filthy, particularly the women, whose usual dress is a dirty woollen gown, and a greasy looking mantilla. In their damp gloomy habitations, they squat down on the floor, close to the brasero (chafing pan), which also serves them as a stove for cooking. They bruise maize between two stones, and make it into a thick kind of soup or porridge. When employed in paring potatoes or apples, or in cutting cabbages, they throw the skins and waste leaves on the ground, so that they are frequently surrounded by a mass of half-decayed vegetable matter. Their favorite beverage is mate (the Paraguay tea), of which they partake at all hours of the day. The mode of preparing and drinking the mate is as follows: a portion of the herb is put into a sort of cup made from a gourd, and boiling water is poured over it. The mistress of the house then takes a reed or pipe, to one end of which a strainer is affixed,[1] and putting it into the decoction, she sucks up a mouthful of the liquid. She then hands the apparatus to the person next to her, who partakes of it in the same manner, and so it goes round. The mistress of the house and all her guests suck the aromatic fluid through the same pipe or bombilla.

The poverty of the people is extreme. Specie is seldom current, and is exclusively in the hands of a few traders, who supply the Indians with European articles, in payment of their labor, or in exchange for the produce of the island, which is sent to Chile and Peru. With much surprise I learned that there is no saw-mill in Chiloe, where the vast abundance of trees would furnish a supply of excellent deals, for which ready and good payment would be obtained in Peru.

The inhabitants direct their industry chiefly to agriculture and navigation. But rude and imperfect are their implements for field labor, as well as their nautical vessels. To a stranger nothing can appear more extraordinary than their mode of ploughing. As to a regular plough, I do not believe such a thing is known in Chiloe. If a field is to be tilled, it is done by two Indians, who are furnished with long poles, pointed at one end. The one thrusts his pole, pretty deeply, and in an oblique direction, into the earth, so that it forms an angle with the surface of the ground. The other Indian sticks his pole in at a little distance, and also obliquely, and he forces it beneath that of his fellow-laborer, so that the first pole lies as it were above the second. The first Indian then presses on his pole, and makes it work on the other, as a lever on its fulcrum, and the earth is thrown up by the point of the pole. Thus they gradually advance, until the whole field is furrowed by this laborious process.

The Chiloe boats are merely hulks. They obey the helm reluctantly, but they bear away before the wind. Several individuals usually join together, and convey in these boats, the produce of their respective localities, in the southern villages, to San Carlos. Women as well as men take their turn at rowing the boats, and after being out all day, they run into some creek, where they pass the night. When a favorable breeze springs up, they hoist a sail, made of ponchos. The poncho is an important article of male clothing in this country. It consists of a piece of woollen cloth, measuring from 5 to 7 feet long, and from 3 to 4 feet broad. In the middle there is a slit from 12 to 14 inches long; through this slit the wearer passes his head. The poncho thus rests on the shoulders, and hangs down in front and behind as low as the knees. At the sides, it reaches to the elbow, or middle of the forearm, and thus covers the whole of the body. The carters and wagoners in Swabia wear, in rainy weather, a covering somewhat resembling the poncho, which they make out of their woollen horse-coverings. When a Chiloe boat is on its passage on the coast, and a sail happens to be wanted, the men give up their ponchos and the women their mantillas. The slits in the ponchos are stitched up, and both ponchos and mantillas being sewn together are fixed to a pole or bar of wood, which is hoisted to a proper position on the mast. This patchwork sail can only be serviceable when the wind is fresh. At nightfall, when the boat runs into one of the creeks for shelter, the sail is lowered, and the sewing being unpicked, the ponchos and mantillas are returned to their respective owners, who wrap themselves in them, and go to sleep.

There is but little trade in San Carlos, for Chile itself possesses in superfluity all the productions of Chiloe, and the inhabitants of the island are so poor, and their wants so limited, that they require but few foreign articles. The port is therefore seldom visited by any trading vessel from Europe. Some of the Chiloe boats keep up a regular traffic along the coast. They carry wood, brooms, hams, and potatoes, to Valparaiso, Arica, Callao, &c., and they bring back in return, linen, woollen and cotton cloths, ironware, tobacco, and spirits.

North American and French whalers have for several years past been frequent visitors to San Carlos, as they can there provide themselves, at a cheap rate, with provisions for the long fishing season. All the captains bring goods, which they smuggle on shore, where they sell or exchange them at a high profit. A custom-house officer is, indeed, sent on board every vessel to examine what is to be unshipped; but a few dollars will silence him, and make him favor the contraband operations, which are carried on without much reserve. A French captain brought to Chiloe a quantity of water-proof cloaks and hats, made of a sort of black waxed cloth, and sold them to a dealer in San Carlos. To evade the duty, he sent his men on shore each wearing one of these hats and cloaks, which they deposited in the dealer's store, and then returned on board the ship, dressed in their sailors' garb. This was repeated so often, that at length it was intimated to the captain that, if his men had a fancy to come on shore with such hats and cloaks they would be permitted to do so, but it must be on condition of their returning on board dressed in the same costume.

The people of Ancud (San Carlos), formerly so simple and artless, have gradually become corrupt and degenerate, since their frequent intercourse with the whale-fishers. Among the female portion of the population, depravity of morals and unbecoming boldness of manners have in a great degree superseded the natural simplicity which formerly prevailed. All the vices of the lowest class of sailors, of which the crews of the South Sea Whalers are composed, have quickly taken root in San Carlos, and the inseparable consequences of those vices will soon be fatal to the moral and physical welfare of the inhabitants.

In the interior of the island of Chiloe there are few quadrupeds. The largest, the domestic animals excepted, is a fox (Canis fulvipes, Wat.), which was first discovered by the naturalists who accompanied Capt. King's expedition. This is the only beast of prey. The coast abounds in seals of the sea-dog species (Otaria chilensis, Müll., Otaria Ursina, Per., Otaria jubata, Desm.)—in sea-otters (Otaria chilensis, Ben.)—and in the water mouse (Myopotamus Coypus, J. Geoff). Among the birds, there are some very fine species of ducks, well worthy of notice, which are also found on the continent of South America. There is the little Cheucau (Pteroptochus rubecula, Kettl.), to which the Chilotes attach various superstitious ideas, and pretend to foretell good or ill luck from its song. The modulations which this bird is capable of uttering are numerous, and the natives assign a particular meaning to each. One day, when I wished to have some shooting, I took an Indian lad with me. Having levelled my gun at one of these birds, which was sitting in a low bush, and uttering its shrill huit-huit, my young companion firmly grasped my arm, earnestly entreating me not to shoot the bird, as it had sung its unlucky note. But my desire to possess a specimen was too great to be thus baffled, so I fired my gun and brought it down. I was engaged in examining the elegant little bird, when a mule, probably alarmed by the shot, came running at full speed towards the spot where we were, and we deemed it prudent to get behind a hedge as speedily as possible. The infuriated mule made an attack on my gun, which was resting against the hedge. It was thrown down, bitten, and trampled on by the mule. The Indian boy turned to me, with a serious countenance, and said:—"It is well if we escape further danger! I told you the bird had piped bad luck!"

The day fixed for our departure from Chiloe now approached. The wind, which had heretofore been unfavorable for leaving the port, promised to change, and we began to ship provisions. Whilst I was waiting for the boat which was to take me on board, I had an opportunity of observing the dexterity with which the Indians slaughter their cattle. This business is performed on the Mole, where, in the space of a quarter of an hour, and by two men only, an ox is killed, and the carcase cut up into the proper pieces. When it is necessary to ship live oxen, the animals are brought to the shore, where their feet are bound together, and then they are rolled over planks into the lancha (boat). On nearing the ship, the Indians tie a rope round the animal's horns, and then the sailors hoist him up with a strong tackle. It is a curious sight to behold a strongly-bound struggling ox, hanging by the tackle, and swinging between wind and water. My little Chilotean pony, which I intended to take to Peru, was dealt with more gently: he was got on board with a girth, purposely made for hoisting horses on board ship.

At length we sailed out of the bay with a fresh easterly wind. Three coasting boats, one of which was heavily laden with brooms, left the roads at the same time, and their crews said they hoped to reach Valparaiso before us. But they had too great confidence in their round-bottomed keels, for they did not anchor in their place of destination till five or six days after our arrival. The wind soon got up, blowing W.N.W., but rather flat. In the course of the night, during the second watch, we were roused from our sleep by a heavy shock, followed by a peculiarly tremulous motion of the whole ship. We concluded we had struck in passing over some hidden rock. The lead was thrown, but no ground was found; the pumps were set a-going, but we were free of water. The captain attributed the shock to an earthquake, and on our arrival at Chile, his conjecture was confirmed. In Valdivia, in the latitude of which place we were at the time, a severe shock of an earthquake had been experienced.