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Biblioteca Patagónica

Tierra del Fuego: Historias de Marineros y Salvajes (1851—1900)
Contactos entre barcos y grupos nativos, según reportajes en la prensa de habla inglesa [en inglés]

WYOMING  [1860]

(Note: Text dealing with natives is displayed with a contrasting background colour.)

A VOYAGE THROUGH THE STRAIT OF MAGELLAN TO THE PACIFIC.

[…] Off Jerome Channel, a canoe came alongside, in which were huddled eleven inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego. As these were the first seen by us, considerable curiosity was evinced to get a "good look" at them. They are not more than five feet in height ; their complexion is of a dirty copper-colour; their hair tangled and coarse ; and their eyes small and sharp, with inflamed lids. They saluted us with cries of "Gallita !" (hard bread, the Spanish of which they seemed to have learned). In the boat were three women and several children ; these latter poor, naked, shivering little things, with noses which evidently had never been blown. One of the women sat aft of the "helm," or paddle used for that purpose. The boat was made of braids, sewed together with vines and thongs of sealskin. These people, it is said, live afloat ; every family having a canoe to itself. The head man of the party came on board of us, dressed in a costume part civilised and part savage. He had on a ragged cotton shirt and a "seedy "sealskin cap. On reaching the deck, he walked aft very deliberately, and "planted" himself in front of the man at the wheel; and then and there intimated by pantomime that he was desirous of introducing his copper-coloured legs (which he extended one after the other at full length), into a pair of trousers. An old pair having been given him, he next, "by motions," very "pronounced" and energetic, expressed his willingness to be provided with a jacket. This, too, was given him, and both he received without the slightest demonstration of gratitude. We got rid of our friends with difficulty, and went once more upon our western way.

[…] Soon after anchoring [at Cape Pillar], a family of Fuegans came on board. Among them was a rather good looking girl, with small hands and feet. The men were a rascally, cannibal-looking set ; just the "fellows," in fact, to whet their short, yellow teeth in "a piece of cold parson." Talking altogether, their voices sounded like a cackling of a flock of cormorants. In truth, these poor creatures, living on mussels, sea eggs, and limpets, pass at best but a kind of sea-shore bird existence. The general sound conveyed by their language is certainly like the call of birds of that species. You hear a continued ca-ca-ka-caka-kak sound ; a boat they called a cauka. In imitating the sound of our language, they were wonderfully "apt," and when a word was given them to repeat, they pronounced it with exactness.

M— and myself landed, designing to hunt up their huts. We found their boat hauled up in a little cove, shut out from the anchorage by a bluff point of rocks. Having seen the little fellows scramble up the cliff near this place, we followed a slippery path, until we came to a promontory, as purple, flat, and bare on the top as a log-slab. From its farther edge we caught sight of the Fuegan huts. The whole nest set up a cry like a flock of startled gulls ; and the men, armed with their sealing-clubs, came to meet us. Seeing our party well armed they changed any belligerent intentions they might have had; and commenced capering and dancing before us, leading the way down to the huts. Here we were received by the "Head of the Family" with an address, which our want of "edication" (the "creownin' gel-lory of the United'n States'n") prevents our rendering into English. This family consisted of eight men and six women ; the latter all young. We are told by navigators, that of all women, the ladies of Terra del Fuego are the last to acknowledge their ages ; for when one becomes passé, her lord and master smokes her to death and eats her. The women seen upon this occasion were almost nude, with only tattered coverings of sealskin; their limbs were smeared with "dirt and ashes," and it was hard to believe them human. Never, in all my wanderings, have I seen man brought so near the animal. Life, with a Fuegan is a fierce struggle with nature in her wildest, most desolate, and severest aspect; and, as a consequence, he is crafty, treacherous, and revolting to look upon. […]