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 tolerably 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. These feelings are, 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 mate. 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 rode a few miles northward
to Punta Huantamo. 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 everywhere 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.
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