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Chapter XII
(PLATE 60. TROCHILUS FORFICATUS.)
Valparaiso.
Excursion to the Foot of the Andes.
Structure of the land.
Ascend the Bell of Quillota.
Shattered masses of greenstone.
Immense valleys.
Mines.
State of miners.
Santiago.
Hot-baths of Cauquenes.
Gold-mines.
Grinding-mills.
Perforated stones.
Habits of the Puma.
El Turco and Tapacolo.
Humming-birds.
CENTRAL CHILE.
JULY 23, 1834.
The "Beagle" anchored late at night in the bay of Valparaiso, the
chief seaport of Chile. When morning came, everything appeared
delightful. After Tierra del Fuego, the climate felt quite
delicious--the atmosphere so dry, and the heavens so clear and blue
with the sun shining brightly, that all nature seemed sparkling
with life. The view from the anchorage is very pretty. The town is
built at the very foot of a range of hills, about 1600 feet high,
and rather steep. From its position, it consists of one long,
straggling street, which runs parallel to the beach, and wherever a
ravine comes down, the houses are piled up on each side of it. The
rounded hills, being only partially protected by a very scanty
vegetation, are worn into numberless little gullies, which expose a
singularly bright red soil. From this cause, and from the low
whitewashed houses with tile roofs, the view reminded me of St.
Cruz in Teneriffe. In a north-easterly direction there are some
fine glimpses of the Andes: but these mountains appear much grander
when viewed from the neighbouring hills: the great distance at
which they are situated can then more readily be perceived. The
volcano of Aconcagua is particularly magnificent. This huge and
irregularly conical mass has an elevation greater than that of
Chimborazo; for, from measurements made by the officers in the
"Beagle," its height is no less than 23,000 feet. The Cordillera,
however, viewed from this point, owe the greater part of their
beauty to the atmosphere through which they are seen. When the sun
was setting in the Pacific, it was admirable to watch how clearly
their rugged outlines could be distinguished, yet how varied and
how delicate were the shades of their colour.
I had the good fortune to find living here Mr. Richard Corfield, an
old schoolfellow and friend, to whose hospitality and kindness I
was greatly indebted, in having afforded me a most pleasant
residence during the "Beagle's" stay in Chile. The immediate
neighbourhood of Valparaiso is not very productive to the
naturalist. During the long summer the wind blows steadily from the
southward, and a little off shore, so that rain never falls; during
the three winter months, however, it is sufficiently abundant. The
vegetation in consequence is very scanty: except in some deep
valleys there are no trees, and only a little grass and a few low
bushes are scattered over the less steep parts of the hills. When
we reflect that at the distance of 350 miles to the south, this
side of the Andes is completely hidden by one impenetrable forest,
the contrast is very remarkable. I took several long walks while
collecting objects of natural history. The country is pleasant for
exercise. There are many very beautiful flowers; and, as in most
other dry climates, the plants and shrubs possess strong and
peculiar odours--even one's clothes by brushing through them became
scented. I did not cease from wonder at finding each succeeding day
as fine as the foregoing. What a difference does climate make in
the enjoyment of life! How opposite are the sensations when viewing
black mountains half-enveloped in clouds, and seeing another range
through the light blue haze of a fine day! The one for a time may
be very sublime; the other is all gaiety and happy life.
AUGUST 14, 1834.
I set out on a riding excursion, for the purpose of geologising the
basal parts of the Andes, which alone at this time of the year are
not shut up by the winter snow. Our first day's ride was northward
along the sea-coast. After dark we reached the Hacienda of
Quintero, the estate which formerly belonged to Lord Cochrane. My
object in coming here was to see the great beds of shells which
stand some yards above the level of the sea, and are burnt for
lime. The proofs of the elevation of this whole line of coast are
unequivocal: at the height of a few hundred feet old-looking shells
are numerous, and I found some at 1300 feet. These shells either
lie loose on the surface, or are embedded in a reddish-black
vegetable mould. I was much surprised to find under the microscope
that this vegetable mould is really marine mud, full of minute
particles of organic bodies.
AUGUST 15, 1834.
We returned towards the valley of Quillota. The country was
exceedingly pleasant; just such as poets would call pastoral: green
open lawns, separated by small valleys with rivulets, and the
cottages, we may suppose of the shepherds, scattered on the
hill-sides. We were obliged to cross the ridge of the Chilicauquen.
At its base there were many fine evergreen forest-trees, but these
flourished only in the ravines, where there was running water. Any
person who had seen only the country near Valparaiso would never
have imagined that there had been such picturesque spots in Chile.
As soon as we reached the brow of the Sierra, the valley of
Quillota was immediately under our feet. The prospect was one of
remarkable artificial luxuriance. The valley is very broad and
quite flat, and is thus easily irrigated in all parts. The little
square gardens are crowded with orange and olive trees and every
sort of vegetable. On each side huge bare mountains rise, and this
from the contrast renders the patchwork valley the more pleasing.
Whoever called "Valparaiso" the "Valley of Paradise," must have
been thinking of Quillota. We crossed over to the Hacienda de San
Isidro, situated at the very foot of the Bell Mountain.
(PLATE 61. HACIENDA, CONDOR, CACTUS, ETC.)
Chile, as may be seen in the maps, is a narrow strip of land
between the Cordillera and the Pacific; and this strip is itself
traversed by several mountain-lines, which in this part run
parallel to the great range. Between these outer lines and the main
Cordillera, a succession of level basins, generally opening into
each other by narrow passages, extend far to the southward: in
these, the principal towns are situated, as San Felipe, Santiago,
San Fernando. These basins or plains, together with the transverse
flat valleys (like that of Quillota) which connect them with the
coast, I have no doubt are the bottoms of ancient inlets and deep
bays, such as at the present day intersect every part of Tierra del
Fuego and the western coast. Chile must formerly have resembled the
latter country in the configuration of its land and water. The
resemblance was occasionally shown strikingly when a level fog-bank
covered, as with a mantle, all the lower parts of the country: the
white vapour curling into the ravines, beautifully represented
little coves and bays; and here and there a solitary hillock
peeping up showed that it had formerly stood there as an islet. The
contrast of these flat valleys and basins with the irregular
mountains gave the scenery a character which to me was new and very
interesting.
From the natural slope to seaward of these plains, they are very
easily irrigated, and in consequence singularly fertile. Without
this process the land would produce scarcely anything, for during
the whole summer the sky is cloudless. The mountains and hills are
dotted over with bushes and low trees, and excepting these the
vegetation is very scanty. Each landowner in the valley possesses a
certain portion of hill-country, where his half-wild cattle, in
considerable numbers, manage to find sufficient pasture. Once every
year there is a grand "rodeo," when all the cattle are driven down,
counted, and marked, and a certain number separated to be fattened
in the irrigated fields. Wheat is extensively cultivated, and a
good deal of Indian corn: a kind of bean is, however, the staple
article of food for the common labourers. The orchards produce an
overflowing abundance of peaches, figs, and grapes. With all these
advantages the inhabitants of the country ought to be much more
prosperous than they are.
AUGUST 16, 1834.
The mayor-domo of the Hacienda was good enough to give me a guide
and fresh horses; and in the morning we set out to ascend the
Campana, or Bell Mountain, which is 6400 feet high. The paths were
very bad, but both the geology and scenery amply repaid the
trouble. We reached, by the evening, a spring called the Agua del
Guanaco, which is situated at a great height. This must be an old
name, for it is very many years since a guanaco drank its waters.
During the ascent I noticed that nothing but bushes grew on the
northern slope, whilst on the southern slope there was a bamboo
about fifteen feet high. In a few places there were palms, and I
was surprised to see one at an elevation of at least 4500 feet.
These palms are, for their family, ugly trees. Their stem is very
large, and of a curious form, being thicker in the middle than at
the base or top. They are excessively numerous in some parts of
Chile, and valuable on account of a sort of treacle made from the
sap. On one estate near Petorca they tried to count them, but
failed, after having numbered several hundred thousand. Every year
in the early spring, in August, very many are cut down, and when
the trunk is lying on the ground, the crown of leaves is lopped
off. The sap then immediately begins to flow from the upper end,
and continues so doing for some months: it is, however, necessary
that a thin slice should be shaved off from that end every morning,
so as to expose a fresh surface. A good tree will give ninety
gallons, and all this must have been contained in the vessels of
the apparently dry trunk. It is said that the sap flows much more
quickly on those days when the sun is powerful; and likewise, that
it is absolutely necessary to take care, in cutting down the tree,
that it should fall with its head upwards on the side of the hill;
for if it falls down the slope, scarcely any sap will flow;
although in that case one would have thought that the action would
have been aided, instead of checked, by the force of gravity. The
sap is concentrated by boiling, and is then called treacle, which
it very much resembles in taste.
We unsaddled our horses near the spring, and prepared to pass the
night. The evening was fine, and the atmosphere so clear that the
masts of the vessels at anchor in the bay of Valparaiso, although
no less than twenty-six geographical miles distant, could be
distinguished clearly as little black streaks. A ship doubling the
point under sail appeared as a bright white speck. Anson expresses
much surprise, in his voyage, at the distance at which his vessels
were discovered from the coast; but he did not sufficiently allow
for the height of the land and the great transparency of the air.
The setting of the sun was glorious; the valleys being black,
whilst the snowy peaks of the Andes yet retained a ruby tint. When
it was dark, we made a fire beneath a little arbour of bamboos,
fried our charqui (or dried slips of beef), took our maté, and were
quite comfortable. There is an inexpressible charm in thus living
in the open air. The evening was calm and still;--the shrill noise
of the mountain bizcacha, and the faint cry of a goatsucker, were
occasionally to be heard. Besides these, few birds, or even
insects, frequent these dry, parched mountains.
AUGUST 17, 1834.
In the morning we climbed up the rough mass of greenstone which
crowns the summit. This rock, as frequently happens, was much
shattered and broken into huge angular fragments. I observed,
however, one remarkable circumstance, namely, that many of the
surfaces presented every degree of freshness--some appearing as if
broken the day before, whilst on others lichens had either just
become, or had long grown, attached. I so fully believed that this
was owing to the frequent earthquakes, that I felt inclined to
hurry from below each loose pile. As one might very easily be
deceived in a fact of this kind, I doubted its accuracy, until
ascending Mount Wellington, in Van Diemen's Land, where earthquakes
do not occur; and there I saw the summit of the mountain similarly
composed and similarly shattered, but all the blocks appeared as if
they had been hurled into their present position thousands of years
ago.
We spent the day on the summit, and I never enjoyed one more
thoroughly. Chile, bounded by the Andes and the Pacific, was seen
as in a map. The pleasure from the scenery, in itself beautiful,
was heightened by the many reflections which arose from the mere
view of the Campana range with its lesser parallel ones, and of the
broad valley of Quillota directly intersecting them. Who can avoid
wondering at the force which has upheaved these mountains, and even
more so at the countless ages which it must have required to have
broken through, removed, and levelled whole masses of them? It is
well in this case to call to mind the vast shingle and sedimentary
beds of Patagonia, which, if heaped on the Cordillera, would
increase its height by so many thousand feet. When in that country,
I wondered how any mountain-chain could have supplied such masses,
and not have been utterly obliterated. We must not now reverse the
wonder, and doubt whether all-powerful time can grind down
mountains--even the gigantic Cordillera--into gravel and mud.
The appearance of the Andes was different from that which I had
expected. The lower line of the snow was of course horizontal, and
to this line the even summits of the range seemed quite parallel.
Only at long intervals a group of points or a single cone showed
where a volcano had existed, or does now exist. Hence the range
resembled a great solid wall, surmounted here and there by a tower,
and making a most perfect barrier to the country.
Almost every part of the hill had been drilled by attempts to open
gold-mines: the rage for mining has left scarcely a spot in Chile
unexamined. I spent the evening as before, talking round the fire
with my two companions. The Guasos of Chile, who correspond to the
Gauchos of the Pampas, are, however, a very different set of
beings. Chile is the more civilised of the two countries, and the
inhabitants, in consequence, have lost much individual character.
Gradations in rank are much more strongly marked: the Guaso does
not by any means consider every man his equal; and I was quite
surprised to find that my companions did not like to eat at the
same time with myself. This feeling of inequality is a necessary
consequence of the existence of an aristocracy of wealth. It is
said that some few of the greater landowners possess from five to
ten thousand pounds sterling per annum: an inequality of riches
which I believe is not met with in any of the cattle-breeding
countries eastward of the Andes. A traveller does not here meet
that unbounded hospitality which refuses all payment, but yet is so
kindly offered that no scruples can be raised in accepting it.
Almost every house in Chile will receive you for the night, but a
trifle is expected to be given in the morning; even a rich man will
accept two or three shillings. The Gaucho, although he may be a
cutthroat, is a gentleman; the Guaso is in few respects better, but
at the same time a vulgar, ordinary fellow. The two men, although
employed much in the same manner, are different in their habits and
attire; and the peculiarities of each are universal in their
respective countries. The Gaucho seems part of his horse, and
scorns to exert himself excepting when on its back; the Guaso may
be hired to work as a labourer in the fields. The former lives
entirely on animal food; the latter almost wholly on vegetable. We
do not here see the white boots, the broad drawers, and scarlet
chilipa; the picturesque costume of the Pampas. Here, common
trousers are protected by black and green worsted leggings. The
poncho, however, is common to both. The chief pride of the Guaso
lies in his spurs, which are absurdly large. I measured one which
was six inches in the DIAMETER of the rowel, and the rowel itself
contained upwards of thirty points. The stirrups are on the same
scale, each consisting of a square, carved block of wood, hollowed
out, yet weighing three or four pounds. The Guaso is perhaps more
expert with the lazo than the Gaucho; but, from the nature of the
country, he does not know the use of the bolas.
AUGUST 18, 1834.
We descended the mountain, and passed some beautiful little spots,
with rivulets and fine trees. Having slept at the same hacienda as
before, we rode during the two succeeding days up the valley, and
passed through Quillota, which is more like a collection of
nursery-gardens than a town. The orchards were beautiful,
presenting one mass of peach-blossoms. I saw, also, in one or two
places the date-palm; it is a most stately tree; and I should think
a group of them in their native Asiatic or African deserts must be
superb. We passed likewise San Felipe, a pretty straggling town
like Quillota. The valley in this part expands into one of those
great bays or plains, reaching to the foot of the Cordillera, which
have been mentioned as forming so curious a part of the scenery of
Chile. In the evening we reached the mines of Jajuel, situated in a
ravine at the flank of the great chain. I stayed here five days. My
host, the superintendent of the mine, was a shrewd but rather
ignorant Cornish miner. He had married a Spanish woman, and did not
mean to return home; but his admiration for the mines of Cornwall
remained unbounded. Amongst many other questions, he asked me, "Now
that George Rex is dead, how many more of the family of Rexes are
yet alive?" This Rex certainly must be a relation of the great
author Finis, who wrote all books!
These mines are of copper, and the ore is all shipped to Swansea,
to be smelted. Hence the mines have an aspect singularly quiet, as
compared to those in England: here no smoke, furnaces, or great
steam-engines, disturb the solitude of the surrounding mountains.
The Chilian government, or rather the old Spanish law, encourages
by every method the searching for mines. The discoverer may work a
mine on any ground, by paying five shillings; and before paying
this he may try, even in the garden of another man, for twenty
days.
It is now well known that the Chilian method of mining is the
cheapest. My host says that the two principal improvements
introduced by foreigners have been, first, reducing by previous
roasting the copper pyrites--which, being the common ore in
Cornwall, the English miners were astounded on their arrival to
find thrown away as useless: secondly, stamping and washing the
scoriae from the old furnaces--by which process particles of metal
are recovered in abundance. I have actually seen mules carrying to
the coast, for transportation to England, a cargo of such cinders.
But the first case is much the most curious. The Chilian miners
were so convinced that copper pyrites contained not a particle of
copper, that they laughed at the Englishmen for their ignorance,
who laughed in turn, and bought their richest veins for a few
dollars. It is very odd that, in a country where mining had been
extensively carried on for many years, so simple a process as
gently roasting the ore to expel the sulphur previous to smelting
it, had never been discovered. A few improvements have likewise
been introduced in some of the simple machinery; but even to the
present day, water is removed from some mines by men carrying it up
the shaft in leathern bags!
(PLATE 62. CHILIAN MINER.)
The labouring men work very hard. They have little time allowed for
their meals, and during summer and winter they begin when it is
light, and leave off at dark. They are paid one pound sterling a
month, and their food is given them: this for breakfast consists of
sixteen figs and two small loaves of bread; for dinner, boiled
beans; for supper, broken roasted wheat grain. They scarcely ever
taste meat; as, with the twelve pounds per annum, they have to
clothe themselves and support their families. The miners who work
in the mine itself have twenty-five shillings per month, and are
allowed a little charqui. But these men come down from their bleak
habitations only once in every fortnight or three weeks.
(PLATE 63. CACTUS (Cereus Peruviana).)
During my stay here I thoroughly enjoyed scrambling about these
huge mountains. The geology, as might have been expected, was very
interesting. The shattered and baked rocks, traversed by
innumerable dikes of greenstone, showed what commotions had
formerly taken place. The scenery was much the same as that near
the Bell of Quillota--dry barren mountains, dotted at intervals by
bushes with a scanty foliage. The cactuses, or rather opuntias,
were here very numerous. I measured one of a spherical figure,
which, including the spines, was six feet and four inches in
circumference. The height of the common cylindrical, branching
kind, is from twelve to fifteen feet, and the girth (with spines)
of the branches between three and four feet.
A heavy fall of snow on the mountains prevented me, during the last
two days, from making some interesting excursions. I attempted to
reach a lake which the inhabitants, from some unaccountable reason,
believe to be an arm of the sea. During a very dry season, it was
proposed to attempt cutting a channel from it for the sake of the
water, but the padre, after a consultation, declared it was too
dangerous, as all Chile would be inundated, if, as generally
supposed, the lake was connected with the Pacific. We ascended to a
great height, but becoming involved in the snow-drifts failed in
reaching this wonderful lake, and had some difficulty in returning.
I thought we should have lost our horses; for there was no means of
guessing how deep the drifts were, and the animals, when led, could
only move by jumping. The black sky showed that a fresh snowstorm
was gathering, and we therefore were not a little glad when we
escaped. By the time we reached the base the storm commenced, and
it was lucky for us that this did not happen three hours earlier in
the day.
AUGUST 26, 1834.
We left Jajuel and again crossed the basin of San Felipe. The day
was truly Chilian: glaringly bright, and the atmosphere quite
clear. The thick and uniform covering of newly-fallen snow rendered
the view of the volcano of Aconcagua and the main chain quite
glorious. We were now on the road to Santiago, the capital of
Chile. We crossed the Cerro del Talguen, and slept at a little
rancho. The host, talking about the state of Chile as compared to
other countries, was very humble: "Some see with two eyes, and some
with one, but for my part I do not think that Chile sees with any."
AUGUST 27, 1834.
After crossing many low hills we descended into the small
land-locked plain of Guitron. In the basins, such as this one,
which are elevated from one thousand to two thousand feet above the
sea, two species of acacia, which are stunted in their forms, and
stand wide apart from each other, grow in large numbers. These
trees are never found near the sea-coast; and this gives another
characteristic feature to the scenery of these basins. We crossed a
low ridge which separates Guitron from the great plain on which
Santiago stands. The view was here pre-eminently striking: the dead
level surface, covered in parts by woods of acacia, and with the
city in the distance, abutting horizontally against the base of the
Andes, whose snowy peaks were bright with the evening sun. At the
first glance of this view, it was quite evident that the plain
represented the extent of a former inland sea. As soon as we gained
the level road we pushed our horses into a gallop, and reached the
city before it was dark.
I stayed a week in Santiago and enjoyed myself very much. In the
morning I rode to various places on the plain, and in the evening
dined with several of the English merchants, whose hospitality at
this place is well known. A never-failing source of pleasure was to
ascend the little hillock of rock (St. Lucia) which projects in the
middle of the city. The scenery certainly is most striking, and, as
I have said, very peculiar. I am informed that this same character
is common to the cities on the great Mexican platform. Of the town
I have nothing to say in detail: it is not so fine or so large as
Buenos Ayres, but is built after the same model. I arrived here by
a circuit to the north; so I resolved to return to Valparaiso by a
rather longer excursion to the south of the direct road.
SEPTEMBER 5, 1834.
By the middle of the day we arrived at one of the suspension
bridges made of hide, which cross the Maypu, a large turbulent
river a few leagues southward of Santiago. These bridges are very
poor affairs. The road, following the curvature of the suspending
ropes, is made of bundles of sticks placed close together. It was
full of holes, and oscillated rather fearfully, even with the
weight of a man leading his horse. In the evening we reached a
comfortable farm-house, where there were several very pretty
señoritas. They were much horrified at my having entered one of
their churches out of mere curiosity. They asked me, "Why do you
not become a Christian--for our religion is certain?" I assured
them I was a sort of Christian; but they would not hear of
it--appealing to my own words, "Do not your padres, your very
bishops, marry?" The absurdity of a bishop having a wife
particularly struck them: they scarcely knew whether to be most
amused or horror-struck at such an enormity.
SEPTEMBER 6, 1834.
We proceeded due south, and slept at Rancagua. The road passed over
the level but narrow plain, bounded on one side by lofty hills, and
on the other by the Cordillera. The next day we turned up the
valley of the Rio Cachapual, in which the hot-baths of Cauquenes,
long celebrated for their medicinal properties, are situated. The
suspension bridges, in the less frequented parts, are generally
taken down during the winter when the rivers are low. Such was the
case in this valley, and we were therefore obliged to cross the
stream on horseback. This is rather disagreeable, for the foaming
water, though not deep, rushes so quickly over the bed of large
rounded stones, that one's head becomes quite confused, and it is
difficult even to perceive whether the horse is moving onward or
standing still. In summer, when the snow melts, the torrents are
quite impassable; their strength and fury are then extremely great,
as might be plainly seen by the marks which they had left. We
reached the baths in the evening, and stayed there five days, being
confined the two last by heavy rain. The buildings consist of a
square of miserable little hovels, each with a single table and
bench. They are situated in a narrow deep valley just without the
central Cordillera. It is a quiet, solitary spot, with a good deal
of wild beauty.
The mineral springs of Cauquenes burst forth on a line of
dislocation, crossing a mass of stratified rock, the whole of which
betrays the action of heat. A considerable quantity of gas is
continually escaping from the same orifices with the water. Though
the springs are only a few yards apart, they have very different
temperatures; and this appears to be the result of an unequal
mixture of cold water: for those with the lowest temperature have
scarcely any mineral taste. After the great earthquake of 1822 the
springs ceased, and the water did not return for nearly a year.
They were also much affected by the earthquake of 1835; the
temperature being suddenly changed from 118 to 92 degrees. (12/1.
Caldcleugh in "Philosophical Transactions" 1836.) It seems
probable that mineral waters rising deep from the bowels of the
earth would always be more deranged by subterranean disturbances
than those nearer the surface. The man who had charge of the baths
assured me that in summer the water is hotter and more plentiful
than in winter. The former circumstance I should have expected,
from the less mixture, during the dry season, of cold water; but
the latter statement appears very strange and contradictory. The
periodical increase during the summer, when rain never falls, can,
I think, only be accounted for by the melting of the snow: yet the
mountains which are covered by snow during that season are three or
four leagues distant from the springs. I have no reason to doubt
the accuracy of my informer, who, having lived on the spot for
several years, ought to be well acquainted with the
circumstance,--which, if true, certainly is very curious: for we
must suppose that the snow-water, being conducted through porous
strata to the regions of heat, is again thrown up to the surface by
the line of dislocated and injected rocks at Cauquenes; and the
regularity of the phenomenon would seem to indicate that in this
district heated rock occurred at a depth not very great.
One day I rode up the valley to the farthest inhabited spot.
Shortly above that point, the Cachapual divides into two deep
tremendous ravines, which penetrate directly into the great range.
I scrambled up a peaked mountain, probably more than six thousand
feet high. Here, as indeed everywhere else, scenes of the highest
interest presented themselves. It was by one of these ravines that
Pincheira entered Chile and ravaged the neighbouring country. This
is the same man whose attack on an estancia at the Rio Negro I have
described. He was a renegade half-caste Spaniard, who collected a
great body of Indians together and established himself by a stream
in the Pampas, which place none of the forces sent after him could
ever discover. From this point he used to sally forth, and crossing
the Cordillera by passes hitherto unattempted, he ravaged the
farm-houses and drove the cattle to his secret rendezvous.
Pincheira was a capital horseman, and he made all around him
equally good, for he invariably shot any one who hesitated to
follow him. It was against this man, and other wandering Indian
tribes, that Rosas waged the war of extermination.
SEPTEMBER 13, 1834.
(PLATE 64. CORDILLERAS FROM SANTIAGO DE CHILE.)
We left the baths of Cauquenes, and, rejoining the main road, slept
at the Rio Claro. From this place we rode to the town of San
Fernando. Before arriving there, the last land-locked basin had
expanded into a great plain, which extended so far to the south
that the snowy summits of the more distant Andes were seen as if
above the horizon of the sea. San Fernando is forty leagues from
Santiago; and it was my farthest point southward; for we here
turned at right angles towards the coast. We slept at the
gold-mines of Yaquil, which are worked by Mr. Nixon, an American
gentleman, to whose kindness I was much indebted during the four
days I stayed at his house. The next morning we rode to the mines,
which are situated at the distance of some leagues, near the summit
of a lofty hill. On the way we had a glimpse of the lake
Tagua-tagua, celebrated for its floating islands, which have been
described by M. Gay. (12/2. "Annales des Sciences Naturelles"
March, 1833. M. Gay, a zealous and able naturalist, was then
occupied in studying every branch of natural history throughout the
kingdom of Chile.) They are composed of the stalks of various dead
plants intertwined together, and on the surface of which other
living ones take root. Their form is generally circular, and their
thickness from four to six feet, of which the greater part is
immersed in the water. As the wind blows, they pass from one side
of the lake to the other, and often carry cattle and horses as
passengers.
When we arrived at the mine, I was struck by the pale appearance of
many of the men, and inquired from Mr. Nixon respecting their
condition. The mine is 450 feet deep, and each man brings up about
200 pounds weight of stone. With this load they have to climb up
the alternate notches cut in the trunks of trees, placed in a
zigzag line up the shaft. Even beardless young men, eighteen and
twenty years old, with little muscular development of their bodies
(they are quite naked excepting drawers) ascend with this great
load from nearly the same depth. A strong man, who is not
accustomed to this labour, perspires most profusely, with merely
carrying up his own body. With this very severe labour, they live
entirely on boiled beans and bread. They would prefer having bread
alone; but their masters, finding that they cannot work so hard
upon this, treat them like horses, and make them eat the beans.
Their pay is here rather more than at the mines of Jajuel, being
from 24 to 28 shillings per month. They leave the mine only once in
three weeks; when they stay with their families for two days. One
of the rules of this mine sounds very harsh, but answers pretty
well for the master. The only method of stealing gold is to secrete
pieces of the ore, and take them out as occasion may offer.
Whenever the major-domo finds a lump thus hidden, its full value is
stopped out of the wages of all the men; who thus, without they all
combine, are obliged to keep watch over each other.
When the ore is brought to the mill, it is ground into an
impalpable powder; the process of washing removes all the lighter
particles, and amalgamation finally secures the gold-dust. The
washing, when described, sounds a very simple process; but it is
beautiful to see how the exact adaptation of the current of water
to the specific gravity of the gold so easily separates the
powdered matrix from the metal. The mud which passes from the mills
is collected into pools, where it subsides, and every now and then
is cleared out, and thrown into a common heap. A great deal of
chemical action then commences, salts of various kinds effloresce
on the surface, and the mass becomes hard. After having been left
for a year or two, and then rewashed, it yields gold; and this
process may be repeated even six or seven times; but the gold each
time becomes less in quantity, and the intervals required (as the
inhabitants say, to generate the metal) are longer. There can be no
doubt that the chemical action, already mentioned, each time
liberates fresh gold from some combination. The discovery of a
method to effect this before the first grinding would without doubt
raise the value of gold-ores many fold. It is curious to find how
the minute particles of gold, being scattered about and not
corroding, at last accumulate in some quantity. A short time since
a few miners, being out of work, obtained permission to scrape the
ground round the house and mill; they washed the earth thus got
together, and so procured thirty dollars worth of gold. This is an
exact counterpart of what takes place in nature. Mountains suffer
degradation and wear away, and with them the metallic veins which
they contain. The hardest rock is worn into impalpable mud, the
ordinary metals oxidate, and both are removed; but gold, platina,
and a few others are nearly indestructible, and from their weight,
sinking to the bottom, are left behind. After whole mountains have
passed through this grinding mill, and have been washed by the hand
of nature, the residue becomes metalliferous, and man finds it
worth his while to complete the task of separation.
Bad as the above treatment of the miners appears, it is gladly
accepted of by them; for the condition of the labouring
agriculturists is much worse. Their wages are lower, and they live
almost exclusively on beans. This poverty must be chiefly owing to
the feudal-like system on which the land is tilled: the landowner
gives a small plot of ground to the labourer, for building on and
cultivating, and in return has his services (or those of a proxy)
for every day of his life, without any wages. Until a father has a
grown-up son, who can by his labour pay the rent, there is no one,
except on occasional days, to take care of his own patch of ground.
Hence extreme poverty is very common among the labouring classes in
this country.
There are some old Indian ruins in this neighbourhood, and I was
shown one of the perforated stones, which Molina mentions as being
found in many places in considerable numbers. They are of a
circular flattened form, from five to six inches in diameter, with
a hole passing quite through the centre. It has generally been
supposed that they were used as heads to clubs, although their form
does not appear at all well adapted for that purpose. Burchell
states that some of the tribes in Southern Africa dig up roots by
the aid of a stick pointed at one end, the force and weight of
which are increased by a round stone with a hole in it, into which
the other end is firmly wedged. (12/3. Burchell's "Travels" volume
2 page 45.) It appears probable that the Indians of Chile formerly
used some such rude agricultural instrument.
One day, a German collector in natural history, of the name of
Renous, called, and nearly at the same time an old Spanish lawyer.
I was amused at being told the conversation which took place
between them. Renous speaks Spanish so well that the old lawyer
mistook him for a Chilian. Renous alluding to me, asked him what he
thought of the King of England sending out a collector to their
country, to pick up lizards and beetles, and to break stones? The
old gentleman thought seriously for some time, and then said, "It
is not well,--hay un gato encerrado aqui (there is a cat shut up
here). No man is so rich as to send out people to pick up such
rubbish. I do not like it: if one of us were to go and do such
things in England, do not you think the King of England would very
soon send us out of his country?" And this old gentleman, from his
profession, belongs to the better informed and more intelligent
classes! Renous himself, two or three years before, left in a house
at San Fernando some caterpillars, under charge of a girl to feed,
that they might turn into butterflies. This was rumoured through
the town, and at last the Padres and Governor consulted together,
and agreed it must be some heresy. Accordingly, when Renous
returned, he was arrested.
SEPTEMBER 19, 1834.
We left Yaquil, and followed the flat valley, formed like that of
Quillota, in which the Rio Tinderidica flows. Even at these few
miles south of Santiago the climate is much damper; in consequence
there were fine tracts of pasturage which were not irrigated.
(20th.) We followed this valley till it expanded into a great
plain, which reaches from the sea to the mountains west of
Rancagua. We shortly lost all trees and even bushes; so that the
inhabitants are nearly as badly off for firewood as those in the
Pampas. Never having heard of these plains, I was much surprised at
meeting with such scenery in Chile. The plains belong to more than
one series of different elevations, and they are traversed by broad
flat-bottomed valleys; both of which circumstances, as in
Patagonia, bespeak the action of the sea on gently rising land. In
the steep cliffs bordering these valleys there are some large
caves, which no doubt were originally formed by the waves: one of
these is celebrated under the name of Cueva del Obispo; having
formerly been consecrated. During the day I felt very unwell, and
from that time till the end of October did not recover.
SEPTEMBER 22, 1834.
We continued to pass over green plains without a tree. The next day
we arrived at a house near Navedad, on the sea-coast, where a rich
Haciendero gave us lodgings. I stayed here the two ensuing days,
and although very unwell, managed to collect from the tertiary
formation some marine shells.
SEPTEMBER 24, 1834.
Our course was now directed towards Valparaiso, which with great
difficulty I reached on the 27th, and was there confined to my bed
till the end of October. During this time I was an inmate in Mr.
Corfield's house, whose kindness to me I do not know how to
express.
I will here add a few observations on some of the animals and birds
of Chile. The Puma, or South American Lion, is not uncommon. This
animal has a wide geographical range; being found from the
equatorial forests, throughout the deserts of Patagonia, as far
south as the damp and cold latitudes (53 to 54 degrees) of Tierra
del Fuego. I have seen its footsteps in the Cordillera of central
Chile, at an elevation of at least 10,000 feet. In La Plata the
puma preys chiefly on deer, ostriches, bizcacha, and other small
quadrupeds; it there seldom attacks cattle or horses, and most
rarely man. In Chile, however, it destroys many young horses and
cattle, owing probably to the scarcity of other quadrupeds: I
heard, likewise, of two men and a woman who had been thus killed.
It is asserted that the puma always kills its prey by springing on
the shoulders, and then drawing back the head with one of its paws,
until the vertebrae break: I have seen in Patagonia the skeletons
of guanacos, with their necks thus dislocated.
The puma, after eating its fill, covers the carcass with many large
bushes, and lies down to watch it. This habit is often the cause of
its being discovered; for the condors wheeling in the air, every
now and then descend to partake of the feast, and being angrily
driven away, rise all together on the wing. The Chileno Guaso then
knows there is a lion watching his prey--the word is given--and men
and dogs hurry to the chase. Sir F. Head says that a Gaucho in the
Pampas, upon merely seeing some condors wheeling in the air, cried
"A lion!" I could never myself meet with any one who pretended to
such powers of discrimination. It is asserted that if a puma has
once been betrayed by thus watching the carcass, and has then been
hunted, it never resumes this habit; but that having gorged itself,
it wanders far away. The puma is easily killed. In an open country
it is first entangled with the bolas, then lazoed, and dragged
along the ground till rendered insensible. At Tandeel (south of the
Plata), I was told that within three months one hundred were thus
destroyed. In Chile they are generally driven up bushes or trees,
and are then either shot, or baited to death by dogs. The dogs
employed in this chase belong to a particular breed, called
Leoneros: they are weak, slight animals, like long-legged terriers,
but are born with a particular instinct for this sport. The puma is
described as being very crafty: when pursued, it often returns on
its former track, and then suddenly making a spring on one side,
waits there till the dogs have passed by. It is a very silent
animal, uttering no cry even when wounded, and only rarely during
the breeding season.
Of birds, two species of the genus Pteroptochos (megapodius and
albicollis of Kittlitz) are perhaps the most conspicuous. The
former, called by the Chilenos "el Turco," is as large as a
fieldfare, to which bird it has some alliance; but its legs are
much longer, tail shorter, and beak stronger: its colour is a
reddish brown. The Turco is not uncommon. It lives on the ground,
sheltered among the thickets which are scattered over the dry and
sterile hills. With its tail erect, and stilt-like legs, it may be
seen every now and then popping from one bush to another with
uncommon quickness. It really requires little imagination to
believe that the bird is ashamed of itself, and is aware of its
most ridiculous figure. On first seeing it, one is tempted to
exclaim, "A vilely stuffed specimen has escaped from some museum,
and has come to life again!" It cannot be made to take flight
without the greatest trouble, nor does it run, but only hops. The
various loud cries which it utters when concealed amongst the
bushes are as strange as its appearance. It is said to build its
nest in a deep hole beneath the ground. I dissected several
specimens: the gizzard, which was very muscular, contained beetles,
vegetable fibres, and pebbles. From this character, from the length
of its legs, scratching feet, membranous covering to the nostrils,
short and arched wings, this bird seems in a certain degree to
connect the thrushes with the gallinaceous order.
The second species (or P. albicollis) is allied to the first in its
general form. It is called Tapacolo, or "cover your posterior;" and
well does the shameless little bird deserve its name; for it
carries its tail more than erect, that is, inclined backwards
towards its head. It is very common, and frequents the bottoms of
hedgerows, and the bushes scattered over the barren hills, where
scarcely another bird can exist. In its general manner of feeding,
of quickly hopping out of the thickets and back again, in its
desire of concealment, unwillingness to take flight, and
nidification, it bears a close resemblance to the Turco; but its
appearance is not quite so ridiculous. The Tapacolo is very crafty:
when frightened by any person, it will remain motionless at the
bottom of a bush, and will then, after a little while, try with
much address to crawl away on the opposite side. It is also an
active bird, and continually making a noise: these noises are
various and strangely odd; some are like the cooing of doves,
others like the bubbling of water, and many defy all similes. The
country people say it changes its cry five times in the
year--according to some change of season, I suppose. (12/4. It is a
remarkable fact that Molina, though describing in detail all the
birds and animals of Chile, never once mentions this genus, the
species of which are so common, and so remarkable in their habits.
Was he at a loss how to classify them, and did he consequently
think that silence was the more prudent course? It is one more
instance of the frequency of omissions by authors on those very
subjects where it might have been least expected.)
Two species of humming-birds are common; Trochilus forficatus is
found over a space of 2500 miles on the west coast, from the hot
dry country of Lima to the forests of Tierra del Fuego--where it
may be seen flitting about in snow-storms. In the wooded island of
Chiloe, which has an extremely humid climate, this little bird,
skipping from side to side amidst the dripping foliage, is perhaps
more abundant than almost any other kind. I opened the stomachs of
several specimens, shot in different parts of the continent, and in
all, remains of insects were as numerous as in the stomach of a
creeper. When this species migrates in the summer southward, it is
replaced by the arrival of another species coming from the north.
This second kind (Trochilus gigas) is a very large bird for the
delicate family to which it belongs: when on the wing its
appearance is singular. Like others of the genus, it moves from
place to place with a rapidity which may be compared to that of
Syrphus amongst flies, and Sphinx among moths; but whilst hovering
over a flower, it flaps its wings with a very slow and powerful
movement, totally different from that vibratory one common to most
of the species, which produces the humming noise. I never saw any
other bird where the force of its wings appeared (as in a
butterfly) so powerful in proportion to the weight of its body.
When hovering by a flower, its tail is constantly expanded and shut
like a fan, the body being kept in a nearly vertical position. This
action appears to steady and support the bird, between the slow
movements of its wings. Although flying from flower to flower in
search of food, its stomach generally contained abundant remains of
insects, which I suspect are much more the object of its search
than honey. The note of this species, like that of nearly the whole
family, is extremely shrill.
(PLATE 65. CHILIAN SPURS, STIRRUP, ETC.)
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