Lake Buenos Aires is one of the big lakes of Patagonia. One writer, who spent several weeks in that vicinity, says: “Lake Buenos Aires is certainly the very heart of the wind’s domain. While we were there the wind never died down; it blew all the time, often lifting sand and gravel, and sometimes a great piece of our camp fire, sheltered as that was. It raged on most days, blowing so hard that most people in England would not have cared to venture out of doors.” This lake is the largest of a chain of lakes which lie in the foothills of the great Andes system. It is fully seventy-five miles in length from north to south, and its waters are in perpetual motion from the action of the winds. Near the lake is a stretch of arid land that is the very picture of desolation. There is a very horror of bareness about it that almost makes the eyes sick to look upon it. Right near it is one of those sudden contrasts that one will find in Patagonia, fine and fertile land where sweet flowers bloom in profusion. Lake Argentine is another large lake to the south of the other. It is a great sheet of blue water, is higher up, and the peaks of the Cordilleras are nearer. This lake and those farther south are often filled with small icebergs, for the climate is getting colder all the way.
At almost the southernmost point of the mainland lies the little city of Punta Arenas. It is situated on the Straits of Magellan, and is sheltered from the worst storms by the many islands which lie between it and the Antarctic seas. Punta Arenas is the most southerly city in the world, several hundred miles farther south than the Cape of Good Hope. There is plenty of building space left in this city, but a few years ago, when the boom was on, the people had visions of a southern Chicago. Fabulous prices were asked for building lots and real estate agents were almost as plentiful as the Indians. That time has passed and the town has dwindled. Its latitude is about that of Labrador, but it is much more equable and is not so severe as many imagine. Perhaps fifteen thousand people live here and seem to be contented. It is a very mixed population. You can hear Spanish, English, German, Italian, Russian and even the Chinese mingled with the guttural tongues of the Indians. The Scotch are probably the most thrifty of the inhabitants and many of them have lived there two or three generations. There are many rough characters, some even who have drifted from the mining camps of our western states. The loafing places are the bars, where many brawls occur during the long winters. There are clubs, however, where the well-to-do gather and have their games and drink their favourite drinks just as they do the world over. Most of the buildings are cheap one-story affairs, frequently built of the corrugated iron so common in this land. Punta Arenas is a free port, and this makes it a great supply station for vessels passing through the straits. All the vessels passing through the straits call there for supplies and coal, and this business, together with the trade in whaling products, wool and furs, furnish the inhabitants with employment. It is one of the great wool-exporting ports of the world, having shipped more than sixteen million pounds of that commodity in a single season, and four hundred thousand pelts. It is a beautiful ride through the Straits of Magellan, with their many narrow channels, and the icebergs, which are always in view.
NATIVE INDIANS OF PATAGONIA
Out upon the pampas the traveller will occasionally stumble upon the toldos (huts) of the Tehuelche Indians. These are simply made huts of the skins of the guanaco sewn loosely together at the edges, and supported squarely upon awkward-looking props or posts forked at the top to admit the ridge poles. The skins are fastened to the earth by wooden pegs. The Tehuelches are the native Indians of Patagonia—the so-called giants—and are well built specimens of manhood. These Indians live almost as their ancestors did hundreds of years ago. They are still nomads and exist entirely by the chase. They do not cultivate anything whatever, but sometimes own a few cattle. In general they still dress in skins, although some of them have purchased store clothes at the settlements. As a rule they are mild mannered, when sober, and do not deserve the name of being bloodthirsty savages. Their numbers have greatly decreased since the first discovery of Patagonia through dissipation and disease, and some have estimated that the total number yet remaining will not exceed a few hundred. They still hunt with bows and arrows and the bolas. This consists of three thongs of rawhide fastened together at one end, with stones or bits of iron on the free end to give them weight. The Indian throws the bolas with marvellous accuracy at any animal he may be pursuing, and the thongs wind themselves around the legs of the animal, thus entangling it. The principal game animal is the guanaco, which furnishes them food, raiment and shelter, and skins which they can barter with the trader for fire-water or other luxuries.
They are an ignorant and superstitious race. A death will invariably cause them to shift their camp, for to their superstitious minds the place must be accursed. Sickness is always the work of the evil spirit and is driven away by incantations. With them there are good spirits and bad devils. The dominant spirit of evil is called Gualicho. He is an ever-present terror, and they spend a good portion of the time in either fleeing from his wrath or propitiating it. They believe in a future life which will be much the same as the earthly one, except that there will always be plenty of food with an abundance of grease.
There are practically no tribal laws, as the Tehuelches are usually peaceable. Quarrels and fights occur only as a result of drink. Polygamy is permitted but is uncommon. The women are well treated, although they have the bulk of the work to do as among all primitive tribes. The men practically live on their horses and a Tehuelche is lost without a steed. The women are not at all overburdened with beauty. Progress does not appeal to the Tehuelche. As his forefathers were, so is he content to be—a human atom with a movable home, passing hither and thither upon the waste and dreary spaces of his native land. He is silent when in the presence of strangers, dignified at all times; unobtrusive as well as inoffensive, and very lazy. He does not particularly care to mingle with white people, but will not run away from them.
USELESS BAY, TIERRA DEL FUEGO
The Fuegian Archipelago, that little known group of islands at the southern extremity of South America, covers a goodly territory. It contains as much land as Nebraska, and is several hundred miles long from east to west. A perfect labyrinth of tortuous, wind-swept waterways separate the hundreds of islands which form this group. They are no doubt formed by the submerging of the lower end of the Andes Mountains. When the land sank these stormy waters beat through the valleys and chiselled the shores into incongruous shapes and labyrinths. They are not all a desolate mass of ice and snow, however, but contain plains which are covered with succulent grasses and slopes which are thickly wooded. The largest island, called Tierra del Fuego, is half as large as Illinois. It is divided longitudinally between Chile and Argentina, by far the largest portion belonging to the former nation, and the best part of it too. This name was originally given to the entire group of islands by Magellan when he saw the trails of smoke made by the camp and signal fires of the natives who dwelt on them.