Horrid
As Such A Death By The Hands Of Their Friends And Relatives
Must Be, The Fears Of The Old
Women, when hunger begins
to press, are more painful to think of; we are told that they
then often run
Away into the mountains, but that they are
pursued by the men and brought back to the slaughter-house
at their own firesides!
Captain Fitz Roy could never ascertain that the Fuegians
have any distinct belief in a future life. They sometimes
bury their dead in caves, and sometimes in the mountain
forests; we do not know what ceremonies they perform.
Jemmy Button would not eat land-birds, because "eat dead
men": they are unwilling even to mention their dead friends.
We have no reason to believe that they perform any sort of
religious worship; though perhaps the muttering of the old
man before he distributed the putrid blubber to his famished
party, may be of this nature. Each family or tribe has a
wizard or conjuring doctor, whose office we could never
clearly ascertain. Jemmy believed in dreams, though not, as
I have said, in the devil: I do not think that our Fuegians
were much more superstitious than some of the sailors; for
an old quartermaster firmly believed that the successive
heavy gales, which we encountered off Cape Horn, were
caused by our having the Fuegians on board. The nearest
approach to a religious feeling which I heard of, was shown
by York Minster, who, when Mr. Bynoe shot some very
young ducklings as specimens, declared in the most solemn
manner, "Oh, Mr. Bynoe, much rain, snow, blow much."
This was evidently a retributive punishment for wasting
human food. In a wild and excited manner he also related,
that his brother, one day whilst returning to pick up some
dead birds which he had left on the coast, observed some
feathers blown by the wind. His brother said (York imitating
his manner), "What that?" and crawling onwards,
he peeped over the cliff, and saw "wild man" picking his
birds; he crawled a little nearer, and then hurled down a
great stone and killed him. York declared for a long time
afterwards storms raged, and much rain and snow fell.
As far as we could make out, he seemed to consider the
elements themselves as the avenging agents: it is evident in
this case, how naturally, in a race a little more advanced
in culture, the elements would become personified. What
the "bad wild men" were, has always appeared to me most
mysterious: from what York said, when we found the place
like the form of a hare, where a single man had slept the
night before, I should have thought that they were thieves
who had been driven from their tribes; but other obscure
speeches made me doubt this; I have sometimes imagined
that the most probable explanation was that they were
insane.
The different tribes have no government or chief; yet
each is surrounded by other hostile tribes, speaking different
dialects, and separated from each other only by a deserted
border or neutral territory: the cause of their warfare appears
to be the means of subsistence. Their country is a
broken mass of wild rocks, lofty hills, and useless forests:
and these are viewed through mists and endless storms. The
habitable land is reduced to the stones on the beach; in
search of food they are compelled unceasingly to wander
from spot to spot, and so steep is the coast, that they can
only move about in their wretched canoes. They cannot
know the feeling of having a home, and still less that of
domestic affection; for the husband is to the wife a brutal
master to a laborious slave. Was a more horrid deed ever
perpetrated, than that witnessed on the west coast by Byron,
who saw a wretched mother pick up her bleeding dying
infant-boy, whom her husband had mercilessly dashed on the
stones for dropping a basket of sea-eggs! How little can
the higher powers of the mind be brought into play: what is
there for imagination to picture, for reason to compare, or
judgment to decide upon? to knock a limpet from the rock
does not require even cunning, that lowest power of the
mind. Their skill in some respects may be compared to the
instinct of animals; for it is not improved by experience:
the canoe, their most ingenious work, poor as it is, has
remained the same, as we know from Drake, for the last two
hundred and fifty years.
Whilst beholding these savages, one asks, whence have
they come? What could have tempted, or what change compelled
a tribe of men, to leave the fine regions of the north,
to travel down the Cordillera or backbone of America, to
invent and build canoes, which are not used by the tribes
of Chile, Peru, and Brazil, and then to enter on one of the
most inhospitable countries within the limits of the globe?
Although such reflections must at first seize on the mind, yet
we may feel sure that they are partly erroneous. There is
no reason to believe that the Fuegians decrease in number;
therefore we must suppose that they enjoy a sufficient share
of happiness, of whatever kind it may be, to render life
worth having. Nature by making habit omnipotent, and its
effects hereditary, has fitted the Fuegian to the climate and
the productions of his miserable country.
After having been detained six days in Wigwam Cove by
very bad weather, we put to sea on the 30th of December.
Captain Fitz Roy wished to get westward to land York and
Fuegia in their own country. When at sea we had a constant
succession of gales, and the current was against us: we
drifted to 57 degs. 23' south. On the 11th of January, 1833,
by carrying a press of sail, we fetched within a few miles of
the great rugged mountain of York Minster (so called by
Captain Cook, and the origin of the name of the elder Fuegian),
when a violent squall compelled us to shorten sail
and stand out to sea.
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