It has often happened to me in the coldest night, both in hail and snow, where we had nothing but an open beach to lay down upon, in order to procure a little rest, that I have been obliged to pull off the few rags I had on, as it was impossible to get a moment's sleep with them on for the vermin that swarmed about them, though I used as often as I had time, to take my clothes off, and putting them upon a large stone, beat them with another, in hopes of killing hundreds at once, for it was endless work to pick them off. What we suffered from this was ten times worse even than hunger. But we were clean in comparison to Captain Cheap, for I could compare his body to nothing but an ant-hill, with thousands of those insects crawling over it; for he was now past attempting to rid himself in the least from this torment, as he had quite lost himself, not recollecting our names that were about him, or even his own. His beard was as long as a hermit's; that and his face being covered with train-oil and dirt, from having long accustomed himself to sleep upon a bag, by the way of pillow, in which he kept the pieces of stinking seal. This prudent method he took to prevent our getting at it whilst he slept. His legs were as big as millposts, though his body appeared to be nothing but skin and bone.
One day we fell in with about forty Indians, who came down to the beach we landed on, curiously painted. Our cacique seemed to understand but little of their language, and it sounded to us very different from what we had heard before. However, they made us comprehend that a ship had been upon the coast not far from where we then were, and that she had a red flag: This we understood some time after to have been the Anne pink, whose adventures are particularly related in Lord Anson's Voyage; and we passed through the very harbour she had lain in.
As there was but one small canoe that intended to accompany us any longer, and that in which Mr Hamilton had been to this time intended to proceed no further to the northward, our cacique proposed to him to come into our canoe, which he refused, as the insolence of this fellow was to him insupportable; he therefore rather chose to remain where he was, till chance should throw in his way some other means of getting forward; so here we left him, and it was some months before we saw him again.
[CHAPTER VII.]
We land on the Island of Chiloe.--To our great Joy we at length discover Something having the Appearance of a House.--Kindness of the Natives.--We are delivered to the Custody of a Spanish Guard.--Transactions with the Spanish Residents.--Arrival at Chaco.--Manners of the Inhabitants.
We now got on, by very slow degrees, to the northward; and as the difficulties and hardships we daily went through would only be a repetition of those already mentioned, I shall say no more, but that at last we reached an island about thirty leagues to the southward of Chiloe. Here we remained two days for a favourable opportunity to cross the bay, the very thoughts of which seemed to frighten our cacique out of his senses; and indeed there was great reason for his apprehensions, for there ran a most dreadful hollow sea, dangerous indeed for any open boat whatever, but a thousand times more for such a crazy vessel as we were in. He at length mustered up resolution enough to attempt it, first having crossed himself for an hour together, and made a kind of lug-sail out of the bits of blankets they wore about them, sewed together with split supple-jacks. We then put off, and a terrible passage we had. The bottom plank of the canoe was split, which opened upon every sea; and the water continually rushing over the gunnel, I may say that we were in a manner full the whole way over, though all hands were employed in bailing, without ceasing a moment.
As we drew near the shore, the cacique was eager to land, having been terrified to that degree with this run, that if it had not been for us, every soul must have perished; for he had very near got in amongst the breakers, where the sea drove with such violence upon the rocks, that not even an Indian could have escaped, especially as it was in the night. We kept off till we got into smooth water, and landed upon the island of Chiloe, though in a part of it that was not inhabited. Here we staid all the next day, in a very heavy snow, to recover ourselves a little after our fatigue; but the cold was so excessive, having neither shoe nor stocking, we thought we should have lost our feet; and Captain Cheap was so ill, that if he had had but a few leagues further to have gone without relief, he could not have held out. It pleased God now that our sufferings, in a great measure, were drawing to an end.
What things our cacique had brought with him from the wreck, he here buried under ground, in order to conceal them from the Spaniards, who would not have left him a rusty nail if they had known of it. Towards evening we set off again; and about nine the same night, to our great joy, we observed something that had the appearance of a house, It belonged to an acquaintance of our cacique; and as he was possessed of my fowling-piece, and we had preserved about one charge of powder, he made us load it for him, and desired we would shew him how to discharge it; upon which, standing up, and holding his head from it as far as possible, he fired, and fell back into the bottom of the canoe. The Indians belonging to the house, not in the least used to fire-arms, ran out and hid themselves in the woods. But after some time, one of them bolder than the rest, got upon a hill and hollowed to us, asking who and what we were. Our cacique now made himself known, and they presently came down to the boat, bringing with them some fish and plenty of potatoes. This was the most comfortable meal we had made for many long months; and as soon as this was over, we rowed about two miles farther to a little village, where we landed. Here our cacique presently awaked all the inhabitants by the noise he made, and obliged one of them to open his door to us, and immediately to make a large fire, for the weather was very severe, this being the month of June, the depth of winter in this part of the world. The Indians now flocked thick about us, and seemed to have great compassion for us, as our cacique related to them what part be knew of our history. They knew not what countrymen we were, nor could our guide inform them; for he had often asked us if we were French, Dutch, or English, the only nations he had ever heard of besides the Spaniards. We always answered we were from Grande Bretagne, which he could make nothing of; for we were afraid, if he knew us to be English, as he had heard that nation was at war with the Spaniards, he never would have conducted us to Chiloe.
These good-natured compassionate creatures seemed to vie with each other who should take the most care of us. They made a bed of sheep-skins close to the fire for Captain Cheap, and laid him upon it; and indeed, had it not been for the kind assistance he now met with, he could not have survived three days longer. Though it was now about midnight, they went out and killed a sheep, of which they made broth, and baked a large cake of barley- meal. Any body may imagine what a treat this was to wretches who had not tasted a bit of bread, or any wholesome diet, for such a length of time. After we could eat no longer, we went to sleep about the fire, which the Indians took care to keep up. In the morning, the women came from far and near, each bringing with her something. Almost every one had a pipkin in her hand, containing either fowls or mutton made into broth, potatoes, eggs, or other eatables. We fell to work as if we had eat nothing in the night, and employed ourselves so for the best part of the day.
In the evening, the men filled our house, bringing with them some jars of a liquor they called chica, made of barley-meal, and not very unlike our oat- ale in taste, which will intoxicate those who drink a sufficient quantity of it, for a little has no effect. As soon as the drink was out, a fresh supply of victuals was brought in; and in this manner we passed the whole time we remained with these hospitable Indians. They are a strong well-made people, extremely well-featured, both men and women, and vastly neat in their persons. The men's dress is called by them a puncho, which is a square piece of cloth, generally in stripes of different colours, with a slit in the middle of it, wide enough to let their heads through, so that it hangs on their shoulders, half of it falling before and the other behind them: Under this they wear a short kind of flannel shirt without sleeves or neck. They have wide-knee'd breeches, something like the Dutch seamen, and on their legs a sort of knit buskins without any feet to them, but never any shoes. Their hair is always combed very smooth, and tied very tight up in a great bunch close to the neck; some wear a very neat hat of their own making, and others go without. The women wear a shift like the men's shirts, without sleeves, and over it a square piece of cloth, which they fasten before with a large silver pin, and a petticoat of different stripes. They take as much care of their hair as the men; and both have always a kind of fillet bound very tight about the fore-head, and made fast behind. In short, these people are as cleanly as the several savage nations we had met with before were beastly.