Odd People Part 24

The "tools" observable are a bow and arrow, the latter headed with flint; a fish spear with a forked point, made from a bone of the sea-lion; a short stick,--a woman's implement for knocking the limpets from the rocks; and some knives, the blades of which are sharpened sh.e.l.ls of the mussel,--a very large species of which is found along the coast. These knives are simply manufactured. The brittle edge of the sh.e.l.l--which is five or six inches in length--is first chipped off, and a new edge formed by grinding the sh.e.l.l upon the rocks. When thus prepared, it will cut not only the hardest wood, but even the bones of fish; and serves the Fuegian for all purposes.

Outside the hut, you may see the canoe,--near at hand too,--for the s.h.i.+eling of the Fuegian universally stands upon the beach. He never dwells in the interior of his island; and but rarely roams there,--the women only making such excursions as are necessary to procure the berry and the mushroom. The woods have no charms for him, except to afford him a little fuel; they are difficult to be traversed on account of the miry soil out of which the trees grow; and, otherwise, there is absolutely nothing to be found amidst their gloomy depths, that would in any way contribute to his comfort or sustenance. He is therefore essentially a dweller on the sh.o.r.e; and even there he is not free to come and go as he might choose. From the bold character of his coast, there are here and there long reaches, where the beach cannot be followed by land,--places where the water's edge can only be reached, and the sh.e.l.l-fish collected, by means of some sort of navigable craft.

For this purpose the Fuegian requires a canoe; and the necessity of his life makes him a waterman. His skill, however, both in the construction of his craft, and the management of it, is of a very inferior order,-- infinitely inferior to that exhibited either by the Esquimaux or the Water-Indians of the North.

His canoe is usually made of the bark of a tree,--the birch already mentioned. Sometimes it is so rudely shaped, as to be merely a large piece of bark sh.e.l.led from a single trunk, closed at each end, and tied tightly with thong of sealskin. A few cross-sticks prevent the sides from pressing inward; while as many stays of thong keep them from "bulging" in the contrary direction. If there are cracks in the bark, these are caulked with rushes and a species of resin, which the woods furnish.

With this rude vessel the Fuegian ventures forth, upon the numerous straits and inlets that intersect his land; but he rarely trusts himself to a tempestuous sea.

If rich or industrious, he sometimes becomes the possessor of a craft superior to this. It is also a bark canoe, but not made of a single "flitch." On the contrary, there are many choice pieces used in its construction: for it is fifteen feet in length and three in width amids.h.i.+ps. Its "build" also is better,--with a high prow and stern, and cross-pieces regularly set and secured at the ends. The pieces of bark are united by a st.i.tching of thongs; and the seams carefully caulked so that no water can enter. In this vessel, the Fuegian may embark with his whole family,--and his whole furniture to boot,--and voyage to any part of his coast. And this in reality he does; for the "shanty" above described, is to him only a temporary home. The necessities of his life require him to be continually changing it; and a "removal," with the building of a new domicile, is a circ.u.mstance of frequent recurrence.

Not unfrequently, in removing from one part of the coast to another, he finds it safer making a land journey, to avoid the dangers of the deep.

In times of high wind, it is necessary for him to adopt this course,-- else his frail bark might be dashed against the rocks and riven to pieces. In the land journey he carries the canoe along with him; and in order to do this with convenience, he has so contrived it, that the planks composing the little vessel can be taken apart, and put together again without much difficulty,--the seams only requiring to be freshly caulked. In the transport across land, each member of the family carries a part of the canoe: the stronger individuals taking the heavier pieces,--as the side and bottom planks,--while the ribs and light beams are borne by the younger and weaker.

The necessity of removal arises from a very natural cause. A few days spent at a particular place,--on a creek or bay,--even though the community be a small one, soon exhausts the chief store of food,--the mussel-bank upon the beach,--and, of course, another must be sought for.

This may lie at some distance; perhaps can only be reached by a tedious, and sometimes perilous water-journey; and under these circ.u.mstances the Fuegian deems it less trouble to carry the mountain to Mahomet, than carry Mahomet so often to the mountain. The transporting his whole menage, is just as easy as bringing home a load of limpets; and as to the building of a new house, that is a mere bagatelle, which takes little labour, and no more time than the erection of a tent. Some Fuegians actually possess a tent, covered with the skins of animals; but this a rare and exceptional advantage; and the tent itself of the rudest kind. The Fuegian has his own mode of procuring fire. He is provided with a piece of "mundic," or iron pyrites, which he finds high up upon the sides of his mountains. This struck by a pebble will produce sparks. These he catches upon a tinder of moss, or the "punk" of a dead tree, which he knows how to prepare. The tinder once ignited, is placed within a roundish ball of dry gra.s.s; and, this being waved about in circles, sets the gra.s.s in a blaze. It is then only necessary to communicate the flame to a bundle of sticks; and the work is complete.

The process, though easy enough in a climate where "punk" is plenty, and dry gra.s.s and sticks can be readily procured, is nevertheless difficult enough in the humid atmosphere of Tierra del Fuego,--where moss is like a wet sponge, and gra.s.s, sticks, and logs, can hardly be found dry enough to burn. Well knowing this, the Fuegian is habitually careful of his fire: scarce ever permitting it to go out; and even while travelling in his canoe, in search of a "new home," side by side with his other "penates" he carries the fire along with him.

Notwithstanding the abundance of fuel with which his country provides him, he seems never to be thoroughly warm. Having no close walls to surround him, and no clothing to cover his body, he suffers almost incessantly from cold. Wherever met, he presents himself with a s.h.i.+vering aspect, like one undergoing a severe fit of the ague!

The Fuegians live in small communities, which scarce deserve the name of "tribes," since they have no political leader, nor chief of any description. The conjuror--and they have him--is the only individual that differs in any degree from the other members of the community; but his power is very slight and limited; nor does it extend to the exercise of any physical force. Religion they have none,--at least, none more sacred or sanctified than a vague belief in devils and other evil spirits.

Although without leaders, they are far from being a peaceful people.

The various communities often quarrel and wage cruel and vindictive war against one another; and were it not that the boundaries of each a.s.sociation are well-defined, by deep ravines and inlets of the sea, as well as by the impa.s.sable barriers of snow-covered mountains, these warlike dwarfs would thin one another's numbers to a far greater extent than they now do,--perhaps to a mutual extermination. Fortunately the peculiar nature of their country hinders them from coming very often within fighting distance.

Their whole system of life is abject in the extreme. Although provided with fires, their food is eaten raw; and a fish taken from the water will be swallowed upon the instant--almost before the life is gone out of it. Seal and penguin flesh are devoured in the same manner; and the blubber of the whale is also a raw repast. When one of these is found dead upon the beach,--for they have neither the skill nor courage to capture the whale,--the lucky accident brings a season of rejoicing. A fleet of canoes--if it is to be reached only by water--at once paddle towards the place; or, if it be an overland journey, the whole community--man, woman, and child--start forth on foot. In an hour or two they may be seen returning to their hut village, each with a large "flitch" of blubber flapping over the shoulders, and the head just appearing above, through a hole cut in the centre of the piece,--just as a Mexican ranchero wears his "serape," or a denizen of the Pampas his woollen "poncho." A feast follows this singular procession.

Like the Esquimaux of the north, the Fuegian is very skilful in capturing the seal. His mode of capturing this creature, however, is very different from that employed by the "sealer" of the Arctic Seas; and consists simply in stealing as near as possible in his canoe, when he sees the animal asleep upon the surface, and striking it with a javelin,--which he throws with an unerring aim.

We have already observed that the princ.i.p.al subsistence of the Fuegian is supplied by the sea; and sh.e.l.l-fish forms the most important item of his food. These are mussels, limpets, oysters, and other kinds of sh.e.l.l-fish, and so many are annually consumed by a single family, that an immense heap of the sh.e.l.ls may be seen not only in front of every hut, but all along the coast of the islands, above high-water mark,-- wherever a tribe has made its temporary sojourn.

There is a singular fact connected with these conglomerations of sh.e.l.ls, which appears to have escaped the observations of the Magellanic voyagers. It is not by mere accident they are thus collected in piles.

There is a certain amount of superst.i.tion in the matter. The Fuegian believes that, were the sh.e.l.ls scattered negligently about, ill-luck would follow; and, above all, if the emptied ones were thrown back into the sea: since this would be a warning of destruction that would frighten the living bivalves in their "beds," and drive them away from the coast! Hence it is that the sh.e.l.l-heaps are so carefully kept together.

In collecting these sh.e.l.l-fish, the women are the chief labourers. They do not always gather them from the rocks, after the tide has gone out; though that is the usual time. But there are some species not found in shallow water, and therefore only to be obtained by diving to the bottom after them. Of this kind is a species of _echinus_, or "sea-urchin," of the shape of an orange, and about twice the bulk of one,--the whole outside surface being thickly set with spines, or protuberances. These curious sh.e.l.l-fish are called "sea-eggs" by the sailor navigators; and const.i.tute an important article of the food of the Fuegian. It is often necessary to dive for them to a great depth; and this is done by the Fuegian women, who are as expert in plunging as the pearl-divers of California or the Indian seas.

Fish is another article of Fuegian diet; and many kinds are captured upon their coasts, some of excellent quality. They sometimes obtain the fish by shooting them with their arrows, or striking them with a dart; but they have a mode of catching the finny creatures, which is altogether peculiar: that is to say, _hunting them with dogs_! The Fuegians possess a breed of small fox-like dogs, mean, wretched-looking curs, usually on the very verge of starvation,--since their owners take not the slightest care of them, and hardly ever trouble themselves about feeding them. Notwithstanding this neglect, the Fuegian dogs are not without certain good qualities; and become important auxiliaries to the Fuegian fisherman. They are trained to pursue the fish through the water, and drive them into a net, or some enclosed creek or inlet, shallow enough for them to be shot with the arrow. In doing this the dogs dive to the bottom; and follow the fish to and fro, as if they were amphibious carnivora, like the seals and otters. For this useful service the poor brutes receive a very inadequate reward,--getting only the bones as their portion. They would undoubtedly starve, were it not that, being left to s.h.i.+ft for themselves, they have learnt how to procure their own food; and understand how to catch a fish now and then _on their own account_. Their princ.i.p.al food, however, consists in sh.e.l.l-fish, which they find along the sh.o.r.es, with polypi, and such other animal substances as the sea leaves uncovered upon the beach after the tide has retired. A certain kind of sea-weed also furnishes them with an occasional meal, as it does their masters,--often as hungry and starving as themselves.

In his personal habits no human being is more filthy than the Fuegian.

He never uses water for was.h.i.+ng purposes; nor cleans the dirt from his skin in any way. He has no more idea of putting water to such use, than he has of drowning himself in it; and in respect to cleanliness, he is not only below most other savages, but below the brutes themselves: since even these are taught cleanliness by instinct. But no such instinct exists in the mind of the Fuegian; and he lives in the midst of filth. The smell of his body can be perceived at a considerable distance; and Hotspur's fop might have had reasonable grounds of complaint, had it been a Fuegian who came between the "wind and his n.o.bility." To use the pithy language of one of the old navigators, "The Fuegian stinks like a fox."

Fairly examined, then, in all his bearings,--fairly judged by his habits and actions,--the Fuegian may claim the credit of being the most wretched of our race.

THE END.