Narrative of the surveying voyages of His Majesty's Ships Adventure and Beagle, Vol. 3 [of 3] · Charles Darwin
CHILOE AND CONCEPCION.
ON JANUARY THE 15TH we sailed from Lowe’s Harbour, and three days afterwards anchored a second time in the bay of S. Carlos in Chiloe. On the night of the 19th the volcano of Osorno was in activity. At midnight the sentry observed something like a large star; from which state the bright spot gradually increased in size till about three o’clock, when a very magnificent spectacle was presented. By the aid of a glass, dark objects, in constant succession, were seen, in the midst of a great red glare of light, to be thrown upwards and to fall down again. The light was sufficient to cast on the water a long bright reflection. By the morning the volcano[1] had resumed its tranquillity. Large masses of molten matter seem very commonly to be cast out of the igneous vents, in this part of the Cordillera. I was assured, that when the Corcovado is in eruption, great masses projected upwards are seen to burst in the air, and to assume fantastical forms, such as trees and other bodies. One may form an idea of the immense size of these bodies, when it is stated that they have been seen from the high land behind S. Carlos, which is distant no less than ninety-three miles from the Corcovado.
Captain FitzRoy being anxious that some bearings should be taken on the outer coast of Chiloe, it was planned that Mr. King and myself should ride to Castro, and thence across the island to the Capella de Cucao, situated on the west coast. Having hired horses and a guide, we set out on the morning of the 22d. We had not proceeded far, before we were joined by a woman and two boys, who were bent on the same journey. Every one on this road acts on a “hail fellow well met,” fashion; and one may here enjoy the privilege, so rare in South America, of travelling without fire-arms. At first, the country consists of a succession of hills and valleys. Nearer to Castro it becomes very level, but is still some height above the sea. The road itself is a curious affair: it consists in its whole length, with the exception of very few parts, of great logs of wood, which are either broad and placed longitudinally, or narrow and transversely. In summer the road is not very bad: but in winter, when the wood is rendered slippery from rain, travelling is exceedingly difficult. At that time of the year, the ground on each side becomes a morass, and is often overflowed: hence it is necessary that the longitudinal logs should be fastened down by transverse poles, which are pegged on each side into the earth. These pegs render a fall from a horse dangerous; as the chance of alighting on one of them is not small. It is remarkable, however, how active custom has made the Chilotan horses. In crossing bad parts, where the logs have been displaced, they skipped from one to the other, almost with the quickness and certainty of a dog. On either hand the road is bordered by the lofty forest-trees, with their bases matted together by the canes. When occasionally a long reach of this avenue could be observed, it presented a curious scene of uniformity: the white line of logs, narrowing in perspective, became hidden by the gloomy forest, or it terminated in a zigzag which ascended some steep hill.
Although the distance from S. Carlos to Castro is only twelve leagues in a straight line, the formation of the road must have been a great labour. I was told that several people had formerly lost their lives in attempting to cross the forest. The first who succeeded was an Indian, who cut his way through the canes in eight days, and reached S. Carlos. He was rewarded by the Spanish government with a grant of land. During the summer, many of the Indians wander about the forests (but chiefly in the higher parts, where the woods are not quite so thick) in search of the half-wild cattle which live on the leaves of the cane, and certain trees. It was one of these huntsmen who by chance discovered, a few years since, an English vessel, which had been wrecked on the outer coast. The crew were beginning to fail in provisions, and it is not probable that, without the aid of this man, they would have been able to have extricated themselves from these scarcely penetrable woods. As it was, one seaman died on the march, from fatigue. The Indians in these excursions steer by the sun; so that if there is a continuance of cloudy weather, they cannot travel.
The day was beautiful, and the number of trees which were in full flower perfumed the air; yet even this could scarcely dissipate the effect arising from the gloomy dampness of the forest. Moreover, the many dead trunks that stand like skeletons, never fail to give to these primeval woods a character of solemnity which is wanting in those of countries long civilized. Shortly after sunset we bivouacked for the night. Our female companion, who was rather good-looking, belonged to one of the most respectable families in Castro: she rode, however, astride, and without shoes or stockings. I was surprised at the total want of pride shown by her and her brother. They brought food with them, but at all our meals sat watching Mr. King and myself whilst eating, till we were fairly shamed into feeding the whole party. The night was cloudless; and while lying in our beds, we enjoyed the sight (and it is a high enjoyment) of the multitude of stars which illumined the darkness of the forest.
JANUARY 23D.--We rose early in the morning, and reached the pretty quiet town of Castro by two o’clock. The old governor had died since our last visit, and in his place a Chileno was acting. We had a letter of introduction to Don Pedro. We found him exceedingly hospitable and kind, and with a degree of disinterestedness which is more common in La Plata than on this side of the continent. The next day Don Pedro procured us fresh horses, and offered to accompany us himself. We proceeded to the south; generally following the coast, and passing through several hamlets, each with its large barn-like chapel, built of wood. Near Castro we saw a remarkably pretty waterfall: it was very small, but the water fell in a single sheet into a large circular basin, around which stately trees, from 100 to 120 feet high, cast a dark shade. At Vilipilli, Don Pedro asked the commandant to give us a guide to Cucao. The old gentleman offered to come himself; but for a long time he would not believe that any thing could induce two Englishmen to go to such an out of the way place as Cucao. We thus were accompanied by the two greatest aristocrats in the country; as was plainly to be seen in the manner of all the poorer Indians towards them.
At Chonchi, we struck off across the island, and followed intricate winding paths, sometimes passing through magnificent forests, and then opening into pretty cleared spots, abounding with corn and potato crops. In this undulating woody country, partially cultivated, there was something which reminded me of the wilder parts of England, and therefore had to my eye a most fascinating aspect. At Vilinco, which is situated on the borders of the lake of Cucao, only a few fields are cleared; and all the inhabitants appear to be Indians. This lake is twelve miles long, and runs in an east and west direction. From local circumstances, the sea-breeze blows very regularly during the day, and during the night it falls calm. This has given rise to strange exaggerations: for the phenomenon, as described to us at S. Carlos, was quite a prodigy. The road to Cucao was so very bad, that we determined to embark in a _periagua_. The commandant, in the most authoritative manner, ordered six Indians to get ready to pull us over, without deigning to tell them whether they would be paid. The periagua is a strange rough boat, but the crew were still stranger; I doubt if six uglier little men ever got into a boat together. They pulled, however, very well and cheerfully: the stroke-oar gabbled Indian, and uttered strange cries, much after the fashion of a pig-driver when driving his pigs. We started with a light breeze against us, but yet reached, before late at night, the Capella de Cucao. The country on each side of the lake was one unbroken forest.
In the same periagua with us, a cow was embarked. To get so large an animal into a small boat appears at first a difficulty; but the Indians managed it in a minute. They brought the cow alongside the boat, which was heeled towards her; then placing two oars under her belly, with their ends resting on the gunwale, by the aid of these levers they fairly tumbled the poor beast, heels over head, into the bottom of the boat, and then lashed her down with ropes. At Cucao, we found an uninhabited hovel (which is the residence of the padre when he pays this Capella a visit), where, lighting a fire, we cooked our supper, and were very comfortable.
The district of Cucao is the only inhabited part on the whole west coast of Chiloe. It contains about thirty or forty Indian families, who are scattered along four or five miles of the shore. They are very much secluded from the rest of Chiloe, and have scarcely any sort of commerce, except sometimes in a little oil, which they get from seal-blubber. They are pretty well dressed, in clothes of their own manufacture, and they have plenty to eat. They seemed, however, discontented, yet humble to a degree which it was quite painful to witness. The former feeling is, I think, chiefly to be attributed to the harsh and authoritative manner in which they are treated by their rulers. Our companions, although so very civil to us, behaved to the poor Indians as if they had been slaves, rather than free men. They ordered provisions and the use of their horses, without ever condescending to say how much, or indeed whether the owners should be paid at all. In the morning, being left alone with these poor people, we soon ingratiated ourselves by presents of cigars and maté. A lump of white sugar was divided between all present, and tasted with the greatest curiosity. The Indians ended all their complaints by saying, “and it is only because we are poor Indians, and know nothing; but it was not so when we had a king.”
The next day, after breakfast, we road to Punta Huantamó, a few miles to the northward. The road lay along a very broad beach, on which, even after so many fine days, a terrible surf was breaking. I was assured that after a heavy gale, the roar can be heard at night even at Castro, a distance of no less than twenty-one sea miles, across a hilly and wooded country. We had some difficulty in reaching the point, owing to the intolerably bad paths; for every where in the shade the ground soon becomes a perfect quagmire. The point itself is a bold rocky hill. It is covered by a plant allied, I believe, to Bromelia, and called by the inhabitants Chepones. In scrambling through the beds, our hands were very much scratched. I was amused by observing the precaution our Indian guide took, in turning up his trousers, thinking that they were more delicate than his own hard skin. This plant bears a fruit, in shape like an artichoke, in which a number of seed-vessels are packed; these contain a pleasant sweet pulp, here much esteemed. I saw at Lowe’s Harbour, the Chilotans making chichi, or cider, with this fruit: so true is it, as Humboldt remarks, that almost every where man finds means of preparing some kind of beverage from the vegetable kingdom. The savages, however, of Tierra del Fuego, and I believe of Australia, have not advanced thus far in the arts.
The coast to the northward of Punta Huantamó is exceedingly rugged and broken, and is fronted by many breakers, on which the sea is eternally roaring. Mr. King and myself were anxious to return, if it had been possible, on foot along this coast; but even the Indians said it is quite impracticable. We were told that men have crossed by striking directly through the woods from Cucao to S. Carlos, but never by the coast. On these expeditions, the Indians carry with them only toasted corn, and of this they eat sparingly twice a day. 26TH.--Re-embarking in the periagua, we returned across the lake, and then mounted our horses. The whole of Chiloe took advantage of this week of unusually fine weather, to clear the ground by burning. In every direction volumes of smoke were curling upwards. Although the inhabitants were so assiduous in setting fire to every part of the wood, yet I did not see a single fire which they had succeeded in making extensive. We dined with our friend the commandant, and did not reach Castro till after dark. The next morning we started very early. After having ridden for some time, we obtained from the brow of a steep hill an extensive view (and it is a rare thing on this road) of the great forest. Over the horizon of trees, the volcano of Corcovado, and the great flat-topped one to the northward, stood out in proud pre-eminence; scarcely another peak in the long range showed its snowy top. I hope it will be long before I forget this farewell view of the magnificent Cordillera of Chiloe. At night we bivouacked under a cloudless sky, and the next morning reached S. Carlos. We arrived on the right day, for before evening heavy rain commenced.
FEBRUARY 4TH.--Sailed from Chiloe. During the last week I made several short excursions. One was to examine a great bed of oyster and Venus shells, of the same kind now living in the neighbouring bay, but elevated 350 feet (measured by the barometer) above the level of the sea. From among these shells large forest-trees were growing. Another ride was to P. Huechucucuy. I had with me a guide who knew the country far too well; for he would pertinaciously tell me the Indian name for every little point, rivulet, and creek. In the same manner as in Tierra del Fuego, the Indian language appears singularly well adapted for attaching names to the most trivial divisions of the land. I believe every one was glad to say farewell to Chiloe. Yet if we could forget the gloom and ceaseless rain of winter, Chiloe might pass for a charming island. There is, also, something very attractive in the simplicity and humble politeness of all the poor inhabitants.
We steered along shore to the northward, but owing to thick weather, did not reach Valdivia till the night of the eighth. The external features of the whole line of country were the same with the central parts of Chiloe. The forest was nowhere cleared away. On the sea-coast bold rocky points projected, but further inland the older formations were covered up by plains, belonging to geological periods of no great antiquity. The next morning, after anchoring in the fine harbour of Valdivia, the boat proceeded to the town, which is distant about ten miles. We followed the course of the river, occasionally passing a few hovels, and patches of ground cleared out of the otherwise unbroken forest; and sometimes meeting a canoe with an Indian family. The town is situated on the low banks of the stream, and is so completely buried in a wood of apple-trees, that the streets are merely paths in an orchard.
I have never seen any country where apple-trees appeared to thrive so well as in this damp part of South America. On the borders of the roads there were many young trees which had evidently planted themselves. In Chiloe, the inhabitants possess a marvellously short method of making an orchard. At the lower part of almost every branch, small, conical, brown, wrinkled points project: these are always ready to change into roots, as may sometimes be seen, where any mud has been accidentally splashed against the tree. A branch as thick as a man’s thigh is chosen, and is cut off just beneath a group of these points; all the smaller branches are lopped off, and it is then placed about two feet deep in the ground: the operation is performed in the earliest part of the spring. During the succeeding summer, the stump throws out very long shoots, and sometimes even bears fruit. I was shown one which had produced as many as twenty-three apples, but this was thought very unusual. The ensuing summer, the first year shoots throw out others, and by the third season the stump is changed (as I have myself seen) into a well-wooded tree, loaded with an abundance of fruit. I understand there is one kind of apple-tree in England, which can be treated in a similar manner; but I believe the rapidity of growth, and at the same time production of fruit, is very inferior to that of the trees in Chiloe. An old man near Valdivia illustrated his motto, “Necessidad es la madre del invencion,” by giving an account of the several useful things he manufactured from his apples. After making cider, he extracted from the refuse a white and very finely-flavoured spirit: by another process he procured a sweet treacle, or, as he called it, honey. He likewise showed us wine derived from the same fruit. The children and pigs seemed almost to live, during this season of the year, in the orchards.
FEBRUARY 11TH.--I set out with a guide on a short ride, in which, however, I managed to see singularly little, either of the geology of the country, or of its inhabitants. There is not much cleared land near Valdivia: after crossing a river at the distance of a few miles, we entered the forest, and then passed only one miserable hovel, before reaching our sleeping-place for the night. The short difference in latitude, of 150 miles, has given another aspect to the forest, compared to that of Chiloe. This is owing to a slightly different proportion in the kinds of trees. The evergreens do not appear to be quite so numerous; and the forest in consequence is coloured by a brighter and more lively green. In the same manner as in Chiloe, the lower parts are matted together by canes. Here also another kind of the same family (resembling the bamboo of Brazil, and about twenty feet in height), grows in clusters, and ornaments the banks of some of the streams in a very pretty manner. It is with this plant that the Indians make their chuzos, or long tapering spears. Our resting-house was so dirty that I preferred sleeping outside. The first night on these journeys is generally an uncomfortable one, because one’s body is not accustomed to the tickling and biting of the fleas. I am sure, in the morning, there was not a space on my legs of the size of a shilling, which had not its little red mark, where the flea had feasted.
12TH.--We continued to ride through the uncleared forest; only occasionally meeting an Indian on horseback, or a troop of fine mules bringing alerce planks and corn from the southern plains. In the afternoon one of the horses knocked up: we were then on the brow of a hill, which commanded a fine view of the Llanos. The view of these open plains was very refreshing, after being hemmed in and buried amongst a wilderness of trees. The uniformity of a forest soon becomes very wearisome. This west coast makes me remember with pleasure the free, unbounded plains of Patagonia; yet with the true spirit of contradiction, I cannot forget how sublime is the silence of the forest. The Llanos are the most fertile and thickly-peopled parts of the country; as they possess the immense advantage of being nearly free from trees. Before leaving the forest we crossed some flat little lawns, around which single trees encroached, in the same manner as in an English park. It is curious how frequently a plain seems hostile to the growth of trees. Humboldt found much difficulty in endeavouring to account for their presence in certain parts of South America, and their absence in other parts. It appears to me, that the level state of the surface very frequently determines this point; but the cause of its doing so I do not know. In the case of Tierra del Fuego, the deficiency of trees on level ground is probably owing to the accumulation of too much moisture in such situations. But to the northward of Maldonado, in Banda Oriental, where we have a fine undulating country, with streams of water (which are themselves fringed with woods); the circumstance appears to me, as I have before stated; of very difficult explanation.
On account of the tired horse; I determined to stop close by, at the Mission of Cudico; to the friar of which I had a letter of introduction. Cudico is an intermediate district between the forest and the Llanos. There are a good many cottages; with patches of corn and potatoes; nearly all belonging to Indians. The tribes dependant on Valdivia are “reducidos y cristianos.” The Indians further northward; about Arauco and Imperial, are still very wild and not converted; but they all have much intercourse with the Spaniards. The padre said that the Christian Indians did not much like coming to mass, but that otherwise they show respect for religion. The greatest difficulty is in making them observe the ceremonies of marriage. The wild Indians take as many wives as they can support; and a cacique will sometimes have more than ten. On entering his house, the number may be told by that of the separate fires. This plan must be a good one to prevent quarrelling. Each wife lives a week in turn with the cacique; but all are employed in weaving ponchos, &c., for his advantage. To be the wife of a cacique is an honour much sought after by the Indian women.
The men of all the tribes wear a coarse woollen poncho; but those south of Valdivia wear short trousers, and those northward a petticoat, like the chilipa of the Gauchos. All have their long hair bound by a scarlet fillet round their heads; but otherwise they are uncovered. These Indians are good-sized men; their cheek-bones are very prominent, and in general appearance they resemble the great American family to which they belong; but their physiognomy seemed to me to be slightly different from that of any other tribe which I had before seen. Their expression is generally grave and even austere, and possesses much character: this may pass either for honest bluntness, or fierce determination. The long black hair, the grave and much-lined features, and the dark complexion, called to my mind old portraits of James the First; but very likely the resemblance may be imaginary. On the road we met with none of that humble politeness so universal in Chiloe. Some gave their “mari mari” (good morning) with promptness, but the greater number did not seem inclined to offer any salute. This independence of manners is probably a consequence of their long wars, and the repeated victories which they alone of all the tribes in America have gained over the Spaniards.
I spent the evening very pleasantly, talking with the padre. He was exceedingly kind and hospitable; and coming from Santiago, had contrived to surround himself with some few comforts. Being a man of some little education, he bitterly complained of the total want of society. With no particular zeal for religion, no business or pursuit, how completely must this man’s life be wasted! Finding nothing which tempted me either to stay or to proceed, the next day we set out on our return through the forest. We met on the road seven very wild Indians. Amongst them were some caciques, who had been receiving a yearly stipend, which is paid to some who have long remained faithful. They were fine-looking men, and they rode one after the other, with most gloomy faces. An old cacique, who headed them, had been, I suppose, more excessively drunk than the rest, for he seemed both extremely grave and very crabbed. Shortly before this, two Indians joined us, who were travelling from a distant mission to Valdivia, concerning some lawsuit. One was a good-humoured old man, but from his wrinkled beardless face looked more like an old woman than a man. I frequently presented both of them with cigars; and though ready to receive them, and I dare say grateful, they would hardly condescend to thank me. A Chilotan Indian would have taken off his hat and given his “Dios le page!” (May God repay you!)--The travelling was very tedious, both from the badness of the roads, and from the number of great fallen trees, which it was necessary either to leap over, or to avoid by making long circuits. We slept on the road; and next morning reached Valdivia, whence I proceeded on board.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.