POSITION OF THE COUNTRY AND SIGNIFICATION OF THE NAME — CONFORMATION OF THE LAND AND ITS ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE LIFE — APPEARANCE OF THE FUEGIANS — ERRONEOUS IDEAS CONCERNING THEM — COLOR, COSTUME, AND MODE OF WEARING THE HAIR — INDIFFERENCE TO DRESS — PAINT AND ORNAMENTS — FUEGIAN ARCHITECTURE — THE POINTED AND ROUNDED HUTS — THE SPEAR AND ITS HEAD — BOWS AND ARROWS — STONE THROWING — WONDERFUL STRENGTH OF THE FUEGIANS — SKILL WITH THE SLING — STUDY OF PARTICULAR WEAPONS — FOOD OF THE FUEGIANS — ANGLING WITHOUT HOOKS — THE DOGS, FISHERS AND BIRD CATCHERS — THE DOG RESPECTED BY THE FUEGIANS — CANNIBALISM — THE TREE FUNGUS — CANOES — THE LARGE AND SMALL CANOES, AND THEIR USES — SHIFTING QUARTERS AND TRANSPORTING CANOES — COOKERY — GENERAL TEMPERAMENT OF THE FUEGIANS — JEMMY BUTTON — FUEGIAN GOVERNMENT.

At the extreme southern point of America is a large island, or rather a collection of islands separated by very narrow armlets of the sea. It is separated from the mainland by the strange tortuous Magellan’s Strait, which is in no place wide enough to permit a ship to be out of sight of land, and in some points is exceedingly narrow. As Magellan sailed through this channel by night, he saw that the southern shore was studded with innumerable fires, and he therefore called the country Tierra del Fuego, or Land of Fire. These fires were probably beacons lighted by the natives in order to warn each other of the approach of strangers, to whom the Fuegians have at times evinced the most bitter hostility, while at others they have been kind and hospitable in their way.

The country is a singularly unpromising one, and Tierra del Fuego on the south and the Esquimaux country on the north seem to be exactly the lands in which human beings could not live. Yet both are populated, and the natives of both extremities of this vast continent are fully impressed with the superiority of their country over all others.

Tierra del Fuego is, as its proximity to the South Pole infers, a miserably cold country, and even in the summer time the place is so cold that in comparison England would seem to be quite a tropical island. In consequence of this extreme cold neither animal nor vegetable life can be luxuriant. The forests are small, and the trees short, stumpy, and ceasing to exist at all at some fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea. There is a sort of evergreen beech (Fagus betuloides).

There is only one redeeming point in the climate of Tierra del Fuego. The mosquito that haunts alike the hottest and coldest countries, and equally a terror in tropical and Arctic America, cannot live in Tierra del Fuego, the damp, as well as the cold, being fatal to it. Indeed, there are very few insects in this strange land, and reptiles are altogether absent.

Absence of vegetable life naturally results in absence of animal life, the herbivorous animals being starved out for want of their proper food, and the carnivora being equally unable to live, as finding no animals on which to feed. Man being omnivorous, has a slightly better chance of living, but even he could not multiply and fill the country when food is so limited, provided he were limited to the land, but, as he is master of the waters as well as of the earth, he can draw his living from the sea and rivers when the land refuses to supply him with food. Such is the case with the Fuegians, who are essentially people of the sea and its shore, and who draw nearly the whole of their subsistence from its waters, as we shall see in a future page.

Perhaps in consequence of the scantiness, the irregularity, and the quality of their food, the Fuegians are a very short race of men, often shorter than the average Bosjesman of Southern Africa, and even lower in the social scale. They ought not to be called dwarfs, as is too often the case, their bodies being tolerably proportioned, and their figures not stunted, but simply smaller than the average of Europeans, while the muscular development of the upper part of the body is really wonderful. As a rule, the average height of the Fuegian men is about five feet, and that of the women four feet six inches. In some parts of the islands there are natives of much larger size, but these are evidently immigrants from the adjacent country of Patagonia, where the stature is as much above the average of Europeans as that of the Fuegians is below it.

The color of the natives is a dark coppery brown, the reddish hue being only perceptible in spots where they happen accidentally to be clean. The limbs are generally slight, so that the knees and elbows seem to be disproportionately large, and their heads are covered with masses of black hair, that possesses no curl, and falls in long, wild tangled locks over their shoulders. The men are almost entirely beardless.

An illustration on the opposite page of a Fuegian man and woman gives a correct representation of the ugliness of feature and want of intelligence which characterize this people.

Both sexes allow their hair to run to its full length, except over the forehead, where it is roughly cut with a shell to prevent it from falling into the eyes. The people have a strange superstitious reverence for hair, and that portion which is cut off is deposited in a basket, and afterward carefully disposed of. Once, when the captain had snipped off a little hair from a Fuegian’s head, he found that he had given great offence, and was obliged to restore the severed hair and put away the scissors before the angry feelings of the native could be smoothed. On another occasion, the only mode of pacifying the offended native was by restoring the lock of hair, together with a similar lock from the head of the white man. The cut hair is generally burned.

Captain King’s account of the Fuegian women is not attractive.

“The hair of the women is longer, less coarse, and certainly cleaner than that of the men. It is combed with the jaw of a porpoise, but neither plaited nor tied; and none is cut away, except from over their eyes. They are short, with bodies largely out of proportion to their height; their features, especially those of the old, are scarcely less disagreeable than the repulsive ones of the men. About four feet and some inches is the stature of these she-Fuegians, by courtesy called women. They never walk upright; a stooping posture and awkward movement is their natural gait. They may be fit mates for such uncouth men; but to civilized people their appearance is disgusting. Very few exceptions were noticed.

“The color of the women is similar to that of the men. As they are just as much exposed, and do harder work, this is a natural consequence. Besides, while children they run about quite naked, picking up shell-fish, carrying wood, or bringing water. In the color of the older people there is a tinge of yellow, which is not noticed in the middle-aged or young.”

As is the case with many savage tribes, the teeth of the Fuegians are ground down to an almost flat surface. This is most conspicuous in the front teeth. There is little apparent distinction between the canine and the incisor teeth, both being ground down to such an extent that the only remains of the enamel are on the sides, and, as Captain King graphically remarks, “the front teeth are solid, and often flat-topped like those of a horse eight years old ... the interior substance of each tooth is then seen as plainly in proportion to its size as that of a horse.”

The mouth is large, and very coarsely formed, and as there is not a vestige of beard its full ugliness is shown to the best advantage.

One of the strangest phenomena connected with the Fuegians is their lack of clothing. In a climate so cold that in the middle of summer people have been frozen to death at no great elevation above the level of the sea, it might well be imagined that the natives would follow the same course as that adopted by the Esquimaux, and make for themselves garments out of the thickest and warmest furs that can be procured.

They might do so if they chose. In some parts of their country they have the thick-woolled guanaco (probably an importation from the mainland), and in others are deer and foxes, not to mention the dogs which they keep in a domesticated state. Besides, there are few furs warmer than those of the seal, and seals of various kinds abound on the Fuegian coasts, some, such as the sea-lion, being of very large size. Then there are various water birds, whose skins would make dresses equally light and warm, such as the penguin, the duck, the albatross, and the like.

It is evident, therefore, that if the Fuegian is not warmly and thickly clothed, it is not from want of material, and that he is naked not from necessity but choice. And he chooses nudity, neither sex wearing any description of clothes except a piece of seal or deer skin about eighteen inches square hung over one shoulder. No other covering is worn except this patch of skin, which is shifted about from one side of the body to the other according to the direction of the wind, the Fuegian appearing to be perfectly indifferent to frost, rain, or snow. For example, a Fuegian mother has been seen with her child in her arms, wearing nothing but the little patch of seal-skin on the windward side, and yet standing unconcernedly in the snow, which not only fell on her naked shoulder, but was heaped between her child and her breast, neither mother nor infant seeming to be more than ordinarily cold. During mild weather, or when the Fuegian is paddling or otherwise engaged in work, he thinks that even the piece of seal-skin is too much for him, and throws it off.

Though careless about clothing, he is not indifferent to ornament, and decorates his copper-colored body in various ways. He uses paint in profusion, generally laying on a white ground made of a chalky clay, and drawing patterns upon it of black or dull brick-red. The black is simply charcoal reduced to powder. He likes necklaces, which are mostly white, and are made of the teeth of fishes and seals, or of pieces of bone. Ornaments of the same character are worn upon the wrists and ankles, so that, although the Fuegian has no clothes, he has plenty of savage jewelry.

Both sexes keep their long, straggling locks out of their eyes by means of a small fillet made of sinews, or the hair of the guanaco, twined round the forehead. Feathers and similar ornaments are stuck into this fillet; but if they be white, the spectator must be on his guard, for white down and feathers on the head are signs of war. Red, on the contrary, denotes peace; so that these people entirely reverse the symbolism of color which is accepted almost over the entire world. Sometimes a native may be seen so covered with black paint that the coppery color of the skin is entirely lost, and the complexion is as black as that of a negro. This is a sign of mourning, and is used on the death of a relation or friend.

The houses of the Fuegians are as simple as their dress, and practically are little but rude shelters from the wind. Any boy can make a Fuegian house in half an hour. He has only to cut a number of long branches, sharpen the thicker ends, and stick them into the ground, so as to occupy seven-eighths or so of a circle. Let him then tie the sticks together at the top, and the framework of the house is completed. The walls and roof are made by twisting smaller boughs among the uprights and throwing long coarse grass on them, and the entire furniture of the hut is comprised in a few armfuls of the same grass thrown on the ground.

The opening at the side is always made in the direction opposite the wind, and there is no attempt at a door; so that, in fact, as has been said, the Fuegian’s only idea of a house is a shelter from the wind, so that the natives have no idea of a home or even of a dwelling-place. This is the form of hut used by the Tekeenika tribes of south-eastern Fuegia. A Fuegian settlement, with houses and surrounding scenery, is well represented on the 1169th page.

That which is generally employed in other parts of Fuegia is even more simple. It is barely half the height of the Tekeenika hut, and looks something like a large bee-hive. It seldom, if ever, exceeds five feet in height, but, as the earth is scraped away within, another foot in height is given to the interior. It is made simply by digging a circular hole a foot or so in depth, planting green boughs around the excavation, bending them over, and tying their tops together. Upon this rude framework are fastened bunches of grass, sheets of bark, and skins; so that, on the whole, a habitation is formed which is equal in point of accommodation to a gipsy’s tent. These huts vary much in diameter, though not in height; for, while a number of huts are from four to five feet in height, their diameter will vary from six to twenty feet.

The Fuegians are a quarrelsome people, and the different tribes are constantly at war with each other; and, although they can scarcely be divided into definite tribes, the spirit of local jealousy is sufficiently strong within them to keep the inhabitants of one district at perpetual feud with those of another. The conformation of the country aids this feeling of jealousy, the land being divided by numerous ravines, armlets of the sea, and precipitous mountains; but, fortunately for the Fuegians, this very structure prevents destruction in war, although it encourages the ill-feeling which leads to war; and the battles of the Fuegians are, at the best, nothing but detached skirmishes, without producing the least political effect.

Their weapons are the bow and arrow, the spear, and the sling. These weapons are primarily intended for hunting, and are much more used for killing seals, guanacos, deer, fish, and birds than in slaying men. In the use of them the Fuegians are wonderfully expert. Capt. Parker Snow mentions a case where a number of Fuegians had assembled in their canoes round his vessel. A large fish happened to pass, whereupon the natives instantly speared it, and pitched it on board the ship.

The shafts of the spears sometimes reach the length of ten feet, and, instead of being rounded, as is mostly the case with spear shafts, are octagonal. The heads are made of bone, about seven inches in length, and have a single barb about four inches from the point. The Patagonians use a very similar weapon, as we shall presently see. There is another kind of spear head, which has a whole row of small barbs down one side. This weapon is used as a javelin, and is thrown with great force and accuracy, the native grasping it near the middle, poising for a moment, so as to look along it, and then hurling it.

The bow and arrow are mostly used for killing birds, the arrows being made of hard wood, about two feet long. They are headed with pieces of flint or obsidian, which are merely stuck in a notch at the end of the arrow, so that, when the shaft is withdrawn, the head remains in the wound. The bow is strung with twisted sinews. Birds are also killed by stones, some thrown by hand, and others with the sling, the wonderful strength of these strange people enabling them to use their missiles with terrible effect.

Although not tall, the Fuegians are very thick-set and enormously powerful. One of them, named by the sailors York Minster, was a match in point of muscular strength for any two of the men belonging to the ship. The women are as strong as the men. On one occasion, when three Fuegians, a man and two women, had treacherously attacked a white sailor, and were trying to beat out his brains with stones, they were interrupted, and the sailor rescued. The man was shot. One of the women tried to conceal herself under the bank, and the other was seized by the captain and his coxswain, who tried to pinion her arms. She struggled and fought so stoutly that they could scarcely achieve their object, and had no idea that they were contending with a woman until they heard some one announce the sex of their captive. As to the other woman, who was the oldest of the party, she clung so tightly to the bank that two of the strongest sailors could scarcely remove her.

The fate of the man was very curious, and illustrates the reckless, not to say senseless, courage of these people. He was mortally wounded, and fell back for a moment, allowing the maltreated sailor to escape. However, he instantly recovered himself, and, snatching stones from the bed of the stream in which he was standing, began to hurl them with astounding force and quickness. He used both hands, and flung stones with such truth of aim that the first struck the master, smashed his powder-horn to pieces, and nearly knocked him down. The two next were hurled at the heads of the nearest seamen, who just escaped by stooping as the missiles were thrown. All this passed in a second or two, and with an attempt to hurl a fourth stone the man fell dead.

Some time before this event the sailors had been astonished at the stone-throwing powers of the Fuegians, who nearly struck them with stones thrown by hand when they thought themselves even beyond musket shot. They generally carry a store of pebbles ready for use in the corner of their little skin mantles.

The sling is made of a cup of seal or guanaco skin, to which are attached two cords similar in material to the bow-strings, thus combining apparent delicacy with great strength. The cords of the sling are more than three feet in length. The skill which the Fuegians possess with this weapon is worthy of the reputation attained by the Balearic islanders. Captain King has seen them strike with a sling-stone a cap placed on a stump at fifty or sixty yards’ distance, and on one occasion he witnessed a really wonderful display of dexterity. He asked a Fuegian to show him the use of the weapon. The man immediately picked up a stone about as large as a pigeon’s egg, placed it in the sling, and pointed to a canoe as his mark. He then turned his back, and flung the stone in exactly the opposite direction, so that it struck the trunk of a tree, and rebounded to the canoe. The men seem to think the sling a necessity of life, and it is very seldom that a Fuegian is seen without it either hung over his neck or tied round his waist.

It is rather a curious fact that the Fuegians always devote themselves to one particular weapon. One, for example, will be pre-eminent in the use of the bow, another will excel in throwing stones with the hand, and a third will give all his energies to the sling. Yet, although each man selects some particular arm in the use of which he excels, they all are tolerable masters of the other weapons, and it sometimes happens that a Fuegian crosses over to the Patagonian coast, procures the singular weapon called the “bolas,” of which the reader will learn more presently, and becomes almost as expert in its use as the man from whom he obtained it.

As for the food of the Fuegians, it is, as I have already mentioned, chiefly drawn from the sea. He is an excellent fisherman, and manages to capture his prey without even a hook. He ties a bait on the end of the line, dangles it before the fish, and gradually coaxes it toward the surface of the water. He then allows it to bite, and, before it can detach its teeth from the bait, jerks it out of the water with his right hand, while with the left he catches or strikes it into the canoe. It is evident that by this manner of angling it is impossible to catch fish of any great size. As soon as he has caught the fish, the Fuegian opens it by the simple plan of biting a piece out of its under surface, cleans it, and hangs it on a stick.

Molluscs, especially the mussels and limpets which are found on the sea-shores, form a very considerable portion of the Fuegian’s diet; and it is a curious fact that these natives never throw the empty shells about, but carefully lay them in heaps. They are especially careful not to throw them back into the sea, thinking that the molluscs would take warning by seeing the shells of their comrades, and would forsake the coast. Every woman is furnished with a short pointed stick of hard wood, with which she knocks the limpets off the rocks.

There is a very large species of mussel found on these shores, which is particularly useful to the Fuegian, who employs its shell as a knife. These tools are made in a very simple manner. The Fuegian first knocks off the original edge of the shell, which is brittle and rather fragile, and, by grinding it against the rocks, produces a new edge, which is sharp enough to cut wood and even bone.

By means of the spear and arrows, the Fuegian contrives even to capture seals and sea-otters, but the pursuit in which he shows his greatest ingenuity is the capture of fish by means of dogs. These dogs are little, fox-like looking dogs, which appear utterly incapable of aiding their masters in hunting. Yet they are singularly intelligent in their own way, and have learned a most curious fashion of taking fish. When a shoal of fish approaches the land, the dogs swim out and enclose them, splashing and diving until they drive the shoal into a net, or into some creek when the water is sufficiently shallow for the spear and arrow to be used. The dogs are also taught to catch the birds while sleeping. They creep up to the birds quietly, pounce upon them, carry them to their masters, and return for more, and all so silently that the birds around are not disturbed.

These animals are regarded with very mingled feelings. The Fuegian neglects them and illtreats them, scarcely ever taking the trouble to feed them, so that if they depended on the food given them by their masters they would starve. However, their aquatic training gives them the power of foraging for themselves, and, when not required by their masters, they can catch fish on their own account. They are odd, sharp nosed, bushy tailed animals, with large, pointed, erect ears, and usually with dark rough hair, though a few among them have the fur nearly white. They are watchful and faithful to their masters, and the sight of a stranger, much more of a clothed stranger, sets them barking furiously.

Although the Fuegian neglects his dog, he has a great respect and even affection for the animal. It often happens that the mussels and limpets fail, that the weather is too tempestuous for fishing, and that in consequence the people are reduced to the brink of starvation. It might be presumed that, having their dogs at hand, they would avail themselves of so obvious a source of food. This, however, they never do, except when reduced to the last extremity, and, instead of eating their dogs, they eat their old women, who, as they think, are worn out and can do no good, while the dogs, if suffered to live, will assist in catching fish and guanacos.

When they have determined on killing an old woman, they put a quantity of green wood on their fire, so as to cause a thick, suffocating smoke, and in this smoke they hold the poor creature’s head until she is stifled. Unless there is very great distress, the women eat the upper part of the victim and the men the lower, the trunk being thrown into the sea.

Several species of echinus, or sea urchins, are eaten by the Fuegians, who dive for them and bring them to the surface, in spite of the sharp prickles with which the entire surface is beset.

The Fuegian’s great feast, however, takes place when a whale is stranded on the shore. All the people within reach flock to the spot, while fleets of canoes surround the stranded monster, and its body is covered with little copper-colored men carving away the blubber with their shell knives. Each cuts as much as he can get, and when he has torn and carved off a large piece of blubber, he makes a hole in the middle, puts his head through the aperture, and thus leaves his hands free to carry more of the dainty food. Besides this animal food, the Fuegian eats a remarkable kind of fungus, which is found on the antarctic beech, the tree which has already been mentioned. Mr. Webster gives the following description of it:—

“The antarctic beech is the common and prevailing tree. It is an elegant evergreen. It grows to the height of thirty or forty feet, with a girth of from three to five feet, and sometimes, doubling these dimensions, it forms a majestic tree. In December it puts forth a profusion of blossoms, with anthers of bright pink, large and pendent. This evergreen beech frequently has round the upper part of the trunk, or on some of the larger branches, large clusters of globular fungi of a bright orange color. Each fungus is about the size of a small apple, of a soft pulpy nature, with a smooth yellow skin. As it approaches maturity it becomes cellular and latticed on its surface, and when it drops from the tree, dries, and shrivels into a brown mass resembling a morel.

“The Fuegians eat this fungus with avidity. The gelatinous mass is pale, without taste or odor; at the part in contact with the tree are two germs or processes. From twenty to thirty of these fungi are clustered together, and encircle the tree. They form a very conspicuous object, and wherever they are attached they produce a hard knot, or woody tumor, of considerable density. I did not observe them on any other tree than the evergreen beech.”

Passing so much of his time on the sea, the Fuegian needs a boat of some kind, and, debased as he is in many points, he is capable of constructing a vessel that answers every purpose he requires. There are several kinds of Fuegian canoes. The simplest form is made of the bark of a sort of birch, and is in fact formed much like the primitive canoes of the Australians. It is a single sheet of bark stripped from the tree, and tied firmly together at each end. Several sticks placed crosswise in the middle serve to keep it open; and if any part has a tendency to bulge in the opposite direction, a skin thong is passed across the boat and keeps it in shape. The ends of the canoe, as well as any cracks or holes in the bark, are caulked with dry rushes and a pitchy resin procured from trees.

Like the Australian, the Fuegian carries fire in these tiny canoes, placing a lump of clay in the bottom of the boat, building the fire on it, and so being able to remain at sea for a considerable time, cooking and eating the fish as fast as he catches them. Such a boat as this, however, is too frail to be taken far from land, or indeed to be used at all when the weather is tempestuous. Moreover, it only holds one or two persons, and is therefore unfitted for many purposes for which a Fuegian requires a canoe. A much larger and better kind of canoe is therefore made, which has the useful property of being made in separate parts so that the canoe can be taken to pieces, and the various portions carried overland to any spot where the canoe may be wanted. Such a vessel as this is about fifteen feet in length and a yard in width, and, being very buoyant, is capable of holding a whole family, together with their house, and weapons, and utensils. It is considerably raised both at the bow and the stern, and the various pieces of which it is made are sewed together with thongs of raw hide.

The very character of a Fuegian’s life shows that he must, to a certain degree, be a nomad. He never cultivates the soil, he never builds a real house, he never stores up food for the future, and so it necessarily follows that when he has eaten all the mussels, limpets, oysters, and fungi in one spot, he must move to another. And, the demands of hunger being imperious, he cannot wait, but, even if the weather be too stormy to allow him to take his canoe from one part of the coast to another, he is still forced to go, and has therefore hit upon the ingenious plan of taking his canoe to pieces, and making the journey by land and not by sea. An illustration on the following page shows him shifting quarters.

All he has to do in this case is to unlace the hide thongs that lash the canoe together, take it to pieces, and give each piece to some member of the family to carry, the strongest taking the most cumbrous pieces, such as the side and bottom planks, while the smaller portions are borne by the children. When the snow lies deep, the smaller canoe is generally used as a sledge, on which the heavier articles are placed. As to the hut, in some cases the Fuegians carry the upright rods with them; but they often do not trouble themselves with the burden, but leave the hut to perish, and cut down fresh sticks when they arrive at the spot on which they mean to settle for a time.

The Fuegians are good fire makers, and do not go through the troublesome process of rubbing two sticks upon each other. They have learned the value of iron pyrites (the same mineral which was used in the “wheel-lock” fire-arm of Elizabeth’s time), and obtain it from the mountains of their islands. The tinder is made either of a dried fungus or moss, and when the pyrites and a pebble are struck together by a skilful hand, a spark is produced of sufficient intensity to set fire to the tinder. As soon as the spark has taken hold of the tinder, the Fuegian blows it until it spreads, and then wraps it up in a ball of dry grass. He rapidly whirls the grass ball round his head, when the dry foliage bursts into flames, and the fire is complete.

Still, the process of fire making is not a very easy one, and the Fuegians never use their pyrites except when forced to do so, preferring to keep a fire always lighted, and to carry a firestick with them when they travel. Fire is, indeed, a necessary of life to the Fuegians, not so much for cooking as for warming purposes. Those who have visited them say that the natives always look cold and shivering, as indeed they are likely to do, considering that they wear no clothes, and that even in their houses they can but obtain a very partial shelter from the elements.

Their cookery is of the rudest description, and generally consists in putting the food into the hot ashes, and allowing it to remain there until it is sufficiently done for their taste—or, in other words, until it is fairly warmed through. Cooking in vessels of any kind is unknown to them, and the first lessons given them in cooking mussels in a tin pan were scarcely more successful than those in sewing, when the women invariably made a hole in the stuff with the needle, pulled the thread out of the eye, and then insinuated it through the hole made by the needle. They were repeatedly taught the use of the eye in carrying the thread, but to little purpose, as they invariably returned to the old fashion which they had learned with a fish-bone and fibre of sinew.

Though so constantly in the water, the Fuegians have not the most distant idea of washing themselves. Such a notion never occurs to them, and when Europeans first came among them, the sight of a man washing his face seemed to them so irresistibly ludicrous that they burst into shouts of laughter. In consequence of this utter neglect of cleanliness, and the habit of bedaubing themselves with grease and clay, they are very offensive to the nostrils, and any one who wishes to cultivate an acquaintance with them must make up his mind to a singular variety of evil odors. Moreover, they swarm with parasites, and, as they will persist in demonstrating friendly feelings by embracing their guest with a succession of violently affectionate hugs, the cautious visitor provides himself either with an oil-skin suit, or with some very old clothes, which he can give away to the natives as soon as he regains his vessel.

Although the Fuegians are often ill-disposed toward strangers, and indeed have murdered many boats’ crews, Captain Parker Snow contrived to be on very friendly terms with them, going on shore and visiting them in their huts, so as to place himself entirely in their power, and allowing them to come on board his ship. He was fortunate in obtaining the services of a native, called Jemmy Button, who had been partially educated in England, with the hope that he might civilize his countrymen. However, as mostly happened in such cases, he was soon stripped of all his goods; and when Captain Snow visited Tierra del Fuego, twenty-three years afterward, he found Jemmy Button as naked and dirty as any of his countrymen, as were his wife and daughter.

The man, however, retained much of his knowledge of English, a few words of which he had engrafted upon his native language. When first he arrived on board, the English words came with difficulty; but he soon recovered his fluency, and had not forgotten his manners, touching his forehead as he stepped on the quarter-deck, and making his bow in sailor fashion when he addressed the captain, to the entire consternation of the sailors, who could not understand an absolutely naked savage speaking English, and being as well-mannered as themselves.

The faculty of acquiring language is singularly developed in the Fuegian. Generally, the inhabitants of one country find great difficulty in mastering the pronunciation, and especially the intonation, of a foreign land; but a Fuegian can repeat almost any sentence after hearing it once, though of course he has not the slightest idea of its meaning.

A very absurd example of this curious facility of tongue occurred to some sailors who went ashore, and taught the natives to drink coffee. One of the Fuegians, after drinking his coffee, contrived to conceal the tin pot, with the intention of stealing it. The sailor demanded the restoration of his property, and was greatly annoyed that every word which he uttered was instantly repeated by the Fuegian. Thinking at last, that the man must be mocking him, and forgetting for the instant that he did not understand one word of English, the sailor assumed a menacing attitude, and bawled out, “You copper-colored rascal, where is my tin pot?” The Fuegian, nowise disconcerted, assumed precisely the same attitude, and exclaimed in exactly the same manner, “You copper-colored rascal, where is my tin pot?” As it turned out, “the copper-colored rascal” had the pot tucked under his arm.

The natives evidently seemed to think that their white visitors were very foolish for failing to comprehend their language, and tried to make them understand by bawling at the top of their voice. On one or two occasions, when a number of them came on board, they much annoyed Captain Snow by the noise which they made, until a bright thought struck him. He snatched up a speaking trumpet, and bellowed at his visitors through it with such a stunning effect that their voices dropped into respectful silence, and they began to laugh at the manner in which they had been out-bawled by a single man.

As far as can be ascertained, the Fuegians have no form of government. They live in small communities, not worthy of the name of tribes, and having no particular leader, except that the oldest man among them, so long as he retains his strength, is looked up to as a sort of authority. Their ideas of religion appear to be as ill-defined as those of government, the only representative of religion being the conjuror, who, however, exercises but very slight influence upon his fellow countrymen.