Thirty years ago this entire island was roamed and hunted over by the aborigines. The fact that the northern part consisted of open country, with few ranges of hills, caused the white man to look upon it with envious eyes, as pasturage for sheep. Then began a warfare against the Indians which almost resulted in their extermination. Thousands of sheep now quietly graze in the rich valleys and on the verdant plains, and thrive very well indeed. Very little of the land is cultivated, although perhaps susceptible of cultivation, but the marketing of the products would be a difficult feature at the present time, and the season is short. Its latitude is about that of Labrador but the climate is probably milder, and its longitude is that of Boston. In the summer the grass is green, but in the winter the chilly winds change it to a rich brown. The ground rats are a terrible nuisance to the farmer, as they burrow in the fields so much that they destroy half the usefulness of a good meadow. The mountain slopes are covered with a thick growth of trees, ferns and mosses up to a height of a thousand feet or more, due to the great amount of rainfall, but above that distance the growth is very stunted. It seems strange to see green trees and green grasses amid snows and glaciers, but such is the contrast offered by this “land of the fire.” The trees are mostly evergreen, not very high, but very close together. A deep bed of moss, into which a man may sink knee-deep, generally surrounds them, and large ferns with leaves a yard long grow in places otherwise bare. Even bright flowers make this sombre landscape seem almost gay when the sun shines on a summer day.
Desolation Island, on the Chilean side, is a bleak and barren island well indicated by its name, while others are Clarence, St. Inas, and Navarin. There are many others, from islands twenty miles in length to some so small that a good base-ball pitcher could toss a stone clear over them. Cape Horn is a monster rock which thrusts its jagged outline into the Antarctic seas. It is a couple of hundred miles south of the Straits of Magellan, and more than a thousand miles south of the Cape of Good Hope. It is surrounded by waters that are tossed by terrific storms which mariners fear. The hulks of wrecked vessels can be seen on every hand as reminders of the terrible tribute which has been here levied. Even in the Straits of Magellan the glaciers are always in sight, and masses of ice hundreds of feet high are frequently seen, seeming to threaten the venturesome mariner for invading those beautiful waters. It is sometimes impossible for vessels to force their way through the Smythe Channel, which is the most picturesque route through the Straits, but is least used. There is not much animal life except seals, with occasionally a whale, but wild ducks and geese are generally plentiful.
Midway on the southern coast of Tierra del Fuego, and on the Argentine side, is a bleak and inhospitable coast upon which the government has established a prison. This place, named Ushuaia, is the southernmost settlement in the world. The barriers created by nature are impassable without the massive and forbidding walls erected by man. To the south is the unknown Antarctic, to the north the impassable barrier of snow-clad peaks, and in all other directions the fathomless channels separating, it from the other islands. With the exception of the irregular trip of a small steamer from Punta Arenas and an occasional visit from an Argentine warship, this little settlement is unvisited, and not even a telephone or telegraph wire keeps it in communication with the world. There are two prisons here—one for military and one for civil prisoners. In one are the offenders of the Argentine army, and in the other several hundred criminals, many of whom are the very dregs of humanity sent down here from Buenos Aires. Here in this unknown quarter of the globe, guarded by a few score of armed men, these unfortunates work on the roads, dress stone for new and stronger walls, or make the coarse garments worn by the prisoners. Few attempt to escape, and fewer still succeed, for the loneliness and desolation alone would keep a prisoner where human companionship might be found. There is little danger of a prisoner escaping if he attempts, as there would be no means of a wanderer supporting himself.
There are two races of Indians who inhabit these inhospitable islands, the Yahgans and the Onas, both of whom are very low in intelligence. Even though the climate is very cold a part of the year, these savages formerly wore very little clothing, but greased their bodies with fish oil that keeps out the cold. In recent years, however, they have begun to wear warmer garments. They are very treacherous, and many murders have been traced to them. They will mingle very little with white people, but always hold themselves aloof. Their houses are of the most primitive character and are frequently little more than a hole in the ground or side of a hill, or a rude construction of brush on a skeleton of sticks stuck in the ground. Sometimes they are made of guanaco skins sewn together, from which the hair has been removed. They are not particular about food, as to whether it is very fresh or not. They live entirely by the chase and fishing, and in every way are as near to primitive savages as it would be possible to find in the Americas. There is frequently a dearth of food, and then it is that they are driven to eat the flesh of a stranded whale or of an animal found dead. Ground rats and the fishy-flavoured penguin are included on their regular bill of fare. As usual among savage tribes, the women do the most of the work, and assist in the hunting and fishing as well as prepare the meat after it has once been caught.
The Yahgans are short and muscular and below medium height. Their lower limbs seem rather stunted, but above the waist they are heavily built. The Onas are better built and will average above the American in stature. They are strong and well built specimens of the human race. The struggle for existence has made them inexpressive in feature and stoical in actions. Good fortune or ill fortune is met in much the same way. Their settlements are now usually found in the regions which have not attracted the white men. On these islands and the southern part of the largest island where it is not rock, there is generally bog or impenetrable forest, and here these pristine people dwell.
CHAPTER VIII
CROSSING THE CONTINENT
At Retiro station in Buenos Aires one takes the tri-weekly transcontinental train for the ride across the continent. “B. A. P.” upon the coaches stands for Buenos Aires and Pacific, which is the line that carries the traveller to the limits of Argentine territory. The gong strikes, the Argentinians who have gathered to see their friends away on this long journey wave their adieus and the train slowly pulls out without the clanging of an engine bell, with which these British locomotives are not provided. The passengers are all leisurely in their preparations for the journey, and one will seldom see the spectacle of a woman grabbing a box in one hand and a struggling child in the other and rushing frantically for her car. There is usually plenty of room, and whether there is or not the passenger takes his own time.