CHAPTER CXXIV.
THE ARAUCANIANS.
DRESS—ETIQUETTE—GOVERNMENT.

DIVISION OF THE NATION INTO TRIBES — THE MAPUCHÉS — PECULIAR STRUCTURE OF THE HEAD — THE CHERIPA, PONCHO, AND BOOTS — MODE OF SHAVING — DRESSING THE HAIR — THE “PULLING HAIR” FIGHT — DRESS OF THE WOMEN — THE ENORMOUS BREASTPIN — SINGULAR USE OF THIMBLES — ELABORATE HEADDRESS — PAINT — EXHIBITION OF FEMALE VANITY — DRESS OF THE CHILDREN — ARCHITECTURE OF THE ARAUCANIANS — THE CHIEF’S HOUSE AND ITS FURNITURE — LONG HOUSE OF THE MAPUCHÉS — NUMBER OF FIRES — CODE OF ETIQUETTE — THE SPEECH OF CEREMONY — VALUE OF ORATORY — DEMAND OF TRIBUTE — MODE OF GOVERNMENT — THE GRAND TOQUI — THE COUNCILS OF PEACE AND WAR.

Passing northward from Patagonia, and taking a westerly direction, we come to the Araucanian nation. This title was given to them by the Spaniards, just as was the name of Patagonians to their southern neighbors, and, although it is an incorrect one, it has been accepted for so many years that it cannot be conveniently exchanged for the more correct designation.

The aborigines of Chili and a part of the territory now occupied by the Argentine Republic were formerly one great people, extending over a very considerable portion of the land, and necessarily modified in manners and customs by the influence of climate and geographical position. Their general title was Alapu-ché, or People of the Land, but they were separated into three great divisions, namely, Pehuen-ché, or People of the East; Mara-ché, or People of the West; and Huili-ché, or Far-off People, being those nearest to the Patagonians. Passing over the wars with the Spaniards, as foreign to the object of this work, we will describe the Mapuchés, or People of the Country, as they call themselves.

These people are rather below the middle height, strong, thick-set, broad-chested, and much inferior in point of form to the North American tribes. The head is narrow, and low in front, broad and high behind, and the back of the head falls in almost a direct line with the nape of the neck, a peculiarity by which an Araucanian may almost invariably be distinguished. The foot is as remarkable as the head. It is very short and broad, and rises straight from the toes to the ankle with scarcely any curve, so as to produce a very high but very clumsy looking instep.

The ordinary dress of the Mapuché men is mostly composed of two garments, namely, the “cheripa” (pronounced chĕreepah) and the poncho. The cheripa is a sort of compromise between a kilt and trousers. It is a piece of stuff, mostly cotton, which is fastened to the back of a girdle, passed between the legs, drawn up in front there, and tucked then into the girdle. The poncho is nothing but a large circular piece of stuff, with a hole in the centre, through which the head passes. It is exactly similar in principle to the cloak of Polynesia, and is at once a primitive, efficient, and graceful robe, assuming with every change of attitude folds which delight the eye of an artist.

Beside the poncho and cheripa, the Mapuché generally wears a pair of boots, similar to those of the Patagonians, and made of similar materials, the skin from the hind legs of a horse being drawn over the foot while still fresh, so that it moulds itself to the leg of the wearer. As with the Patagonians, it is open in front, so as to allow the two first toes to pass through and grasp the small triangular stirrup. The elaborate horse-accoutrements in which the Mapuchés delight will be described when we come to the manners and customs of the people. Men of rank wear woollen bracelets and anklets as marks of their superior position.

Like most of the Araucanian tribes, the Mapuchés have but little beard, and what they have they eradicate after the usual fashion of savages, plucking out the individual hairs instead of shaving. Mr. R. E. Smith had the opportunity of seeing the operation performed:—“At one house where we stopped I saw an Indian, who at first sight seemed to be a white man, from the fact that his beard was grown as though unshaven for a week. He looked red and blotched, and was continually raising his hand to some part of his face, wearing all the while an expression of patient endurance. A close scrutiny showed that he was engaged in shaving.

“These Indians pull out or nip off the beard with small steel tweezers. This instrument was originally, as the Mapuché name signifies, a clam shell, but, by intercourse with the whites, they have been able to procure a more elegant article. Every dandy carries his tweezers hanging from his neck, and at leisure moments amuses himself by smoothing his face to the taste of his painted mistress. The arguments they use in defence of their treatment of the beard are precisely those used by shavelings the world over.”

They do not content themselves with merely removing the hair from the chin, cheeks, and upper lip, but pull out the eyelashes and eyebrows, substituting instead of the latter a slender curved line of black paint. They say that the presence of the eyelashes hinders them in the pursuit of bee hunting, a sport of which they are very fond, and on which they pride themselves greatly. Some of the younger warriors have allowed a very slight fringe of hair to remain on the upper lip, but the older chiefs think that it is an innovation on the ancient customs, and discountenance it as far as they can.

The hair of the head is cut short at the top, but is allowed to grow long at the sides, in order that it may be easily grasped, just as the North American tribes leave one long lock on the crown of the head so as to assist the enemy who slays them in getting off the scalp.

When two lads quarrel, they settle the dispute with a fight, which is conducted, not by blows with the fist or with a weapon, but by pulling the hair. “Let us pull hair, if you are not afraid,” cries one of the disputants to the other. The challenge is never refused. Off goes the poncho, if they happen to be wearing it, the cheripa is tucked tightly into the belt, the combatants allow each other to take a fair grasp of the long locks, and the struggle begins. Each tries to twist the head of his opponent so as to bring him to the ground, and when he has once fallen, they loosen their grasp, rub the backs of their heads, take a fresh grasp, and repeat the struggle until one of them yields. The combat over, all animosity vanishes, and they are good friends again.

The dress of the women is, like that of the men, composed of two garments, though they are differently put on. One is an enlarged cheripa, and made of the same material. It is first wrapped round the body close under the arms, and then pinned together over each shoulder, so that the arms are left bare. It is confined at the waist by a very broad belt, and falls nearly to the ankle. This alone is a very sufficient dress, but over it is thrown a second piece of stuff which acts as a shawl or mantle, being fastened in front with a pin having a most enormously flat head, about the size of a cheese plate. Sometimes the head is globular, but the flat form is the favorite, and it is adorned with engraved figures. The cloth is mostly of native manufacture, and is either black or a very dark indigo blue.

Like that of the men, the hair of the women is divided into two long tails, one of which hangs over each shoulder. The tails are wound round with spiral strings of blue beads, and their ends are connected by a string of twelve or fourteen brass thimbles, which hang side by side, like a peal of bells. Besides these ornaments, the women wear a sort of cap, made entirely of beads, and falling over the back of the head as far as the shoulders. Its lower edge is decorated with a row of brass thimbles, like that which connects the two queues of the hair. This elaborate headdress is only worn on great occasions, while ordinarily the queues are wound round the head, the two ends projecting in front like horns, a fillet, usually studded with beads, being employed to keep the hair in its place. These peculiarities of dress are shown in the illustration of a Mapuché family on page 1201.

Ornaments are worn according to the wealth of the owners. Strings of beads, silver dollars, and brass thimbles are hung in profusion round the neck, which is further decorated with a collar made of leather and inlaid with silver. Wide bracelets and anklets are also worn, similar to those of the men, but made of variously colored beads instead of wool.

Paint is worn by both sexes, but chiefly by the women, and is anything but ornamental. It is invariably of two colors, red and black, which are mixed with grease, so that they can be applied and removed at pleasure. The usual plan is to have a broad red belt from ear to ear, taking in the cheeks, eyelids, and nose, the lower edge of the belt being sometimes edged and scalloped with black. The eyelids and lashes are also edged with black, and a thin line of the same hue takes the place of the eyebrows, which are all removed except a very fine row of hairs in the centre. Some of the women further decorate their faces by spots of black paint. The women are exceedingly proud of these ornaments; and an amusing instance of their vanity is related by Mr. Smith:—“Our conversation turned upon female dress; and, without intending any disparagement to our fair entertainers, we compared them to the women whom we had seen at the house of Chancay. The women, who were at work near by, did not understand half-a-dozen words of Spanish; but, with that intuitive perception which belongs to the sex, they were not long in discovering that our conversation related to themselves and their dresses.

“Immediately they held a council of war; and, entering the house, they presently returned, each with a bag of trinkets. There were coverings for the head and breast, composed of strings of beads of all colors and designs, with brass thimbles and silver coins. There were rings and pendants for ears and nose; bracelets and anklets, collars and breastpins of colossal proportions. These were held up for our admiration; and that we might more fully realize their wealth, the ladies proceeded to deck themselves with all their finery. They were at the same time jabbering at the top of their lungs, praising their own superiority to all other women, and appealing to us for a confirmation of their own good opinions.

“Finally, the belle of the lot, having ornamented her head, breast, and arms to their fullest capacity, stepped in advance of the others, and, raising her dress as high as the knee, displayed to our astonished gaze a remarkably well-rounded piece of flesh and blood. Patting the calf with honest pride, and turning it about for our inspection, she hung it round with beads, adjusted the many-colored anklets, and, snapping her fingers contemptuously, poured out a perfect torrent of Mapuché.

“Unfortunately, there was no one near to interpret this language; but from her action, and the frequent repetition of the name ‘Chancay,’ we gathered her meaning to be pretty much that, in whatever else the wives of Chancay might excel, she would defy them or any one else to produce a finer leg than the one in question.”

The dress of the children is simple enough. As long as they are infants, and not able to walk, they are tightly rolled up in bandages, so as to be unable to move. In this helpless condition they are put into bamboo cradles, and hung up on pegs driven into the walls of the house, or laid in baskets suspended from the roof, so that they can be swung about by a cord tied to the cradle. The infants are perfect models of behavior, never crying, and allowing themselves to be hung on pegs without betraying any signs of life, except the movement of the eyes. As soon as they can walk, they are allowed to run about without the incumbrance of any clothing, which is not worn until they become boys and girls of seven or eight years old.

The architecture of the Araucanians is very simple, but differs slightly according to the district, and the position of the owner of the house. The ordinary house of a common man is a mere hut, built of wicker-work, about twelve feet by ten, carelessly made, and ill calculated to withstand the elements. On a wet day the rain pours into the hut on all sides, a circumstance which has its advantages to counterbalance its discomforts. On rainy days all cooking has to be done within the house, which would be absolutely unbearable if the apertures which let the rain in did not let the smoke out. At night, moreover, these huts are overcrowded with sleepers.

In one of these huts there were three rude bedsteads, for the accommodation of two married couples and a pair of grown-up girls, while on the ground lay sixteen or seventeen young men and children, packed together like herrings in a barrel. Moreover, a whole troop of dogs came sneaking into the house as soon as the inmates closed their eyes; so that within this limited space some thirty living beings were contained during the night. It is evident that, if the hut had been weather-proof, the whole party would have been suffocated before the morning.

A better kind of habitation, visited by Mr. Smith, deserved the name of house. It was rectangular instead of rounded, and measured thirty feet in length by fifteen in breadth. In the middle of the roof was a hole, by way of chimney, the fire being made directly beneath it. There was no window, the hole and the door being the only apertures for the admission of light and air.

There was only one room, though a sort of loft was made in the roof. This was used as a storehouse, where sacks of beans and similar luxuries were kept. As might be supposed, the whole upper part of the house was thickly encrusted with soot. One of the corners was partitioned off with a sort of wicker-work wall, and served as a granary, in which the wheat was stored.

From the sooty, cobwebbed rafters hung bunches of maize, pumpkins, joints of meat, nets full of potatoes, strings of capsicum pods, and similar articles; while earthenware pots, dishes, and spears were scattered in profusion over the floor. In the middle of all these articles hung two long lances, with their points toward the door; but, although their heads were protected by being stuck into lumps of fat, they were rusty, and had evidently been long out of use.

Two of the corners were occupied with the ordinary bedstead of the country, i. e. a framework of cane, with a bull’s hide stretched tightly over it; and near the beds hung the stock of finery belonging to the owner, namely, spurs, stirrups, and bits, all of solid silver, belonging to the men, and breastpins, necklaces, earrings, strings of thimbles, and other adornments of the women. The usual basket cradle, containing a swathed baby, was suspended from one of the rafters.

The house of a cacique, or chief, is very much larger than either of those which have been described, and somewhat resembles the “long house” of Borneo. One of these houses, belonging to a cacique named Ayllal, looked at a distance something between a very long boat and a haystack. Its height was about fifteen feet, its width thirty, and its length about one hundred and forty.

The middle of the house was common to all the inhabitants, but the sides were partitioned off so as to form a series of chambers, each of which belonged to a married son of the proprietor, or to one of his own wives. In cases where the family is not a very large one, each wife has her own fireplace; but when the number of families under one roof is considerable, one fire is common to two or three of them. In Ayllal’s house there were six fireplaces, and over each was a hole in the roof. The fireplaces are nothing more than a few stones, so arranged that the pots can be kept clear of the burning wood; and, as the ashes are allowed to accumulate where they fall, or to be blown about by every current of air, it is evident that the interior of such a house is not a model of cleanliness.

In consequence of the custom of appropriating a separate fire to each wife, the one is conventionally accepted as a metaphor for the other. It is not considered polite to ask a man how many wives he has, but etiquette permits any one to ask another how many fires he burns. In front of the door hangs a cross-bar, beyond which no one ventures to pass without a special invitation, unless he be an inmate of the house, or an intimate friend of the family.

The Mapuchés exhibit in perfection that curious mixture of the savage and the gentleman that is so often found among uncivilized people. They have a most elaborate code of etiquette, which to a stranger is often irksome, on account of the time which is consumed in going through the requisite formalities. When two persons meet, it is necessary that they should go through a set course of complimentary remarks, the omission of which, except between relatives or very intimate friends, would be held as an unpardonable offence. Let us take Mr. E. R. Smith’s account of the ceremonial:—

“If the guest be a stranger, the host begins by addressing him with ‘I do not know you, brother,’ or ‘I have never seen you before.’ Thereupon the stranger mentions his own name and residence, and goes on to ask the host about himself, his health, and that of his father, mother, wives, and children; about his lands, crops, cattle, and flocks: the chiefs of the district, the neighbors, their wives, children, crops, &c., are next inquired about; and whether there have been any disturbances, diseases, deaths, or accidents.

“If the responses given are favorable, the questioner goes on to express his happiness, and moralizes to the effect that health, wealth, and friendship are great blessings, for which God should be thanked. If, on the contrary, the answers should convey bad news, he condoles with the afflicted, and philosophizes that misfortunes should be borne with equanimity, since men cannot always avoid evil. The guest having finished, the host commences in turn to ask all the same questions, making such comments as the answers received may demand.

“This formality occupies ten or fifteen minutes. The questions and answers are recited (by rote) in a low monotonous voice, with a sing-song tone, not unlike the saying of the rosary or the chanting of friars. At the end of each sentence, if the last word end with a vowel, the voice is raised to a shout; but should the final letter be a consonant, it is rounded off with a nasal grunt. The listener expresses his satisfaction occasionally by a sound between a grunt and a groan, or indicates surprise by a long-drawn “Hué!” With these exceptions, he never interrupts until the speaker has given notice, by a peculiar cadence of the voice, that he has said his say. During this palaver, the speakers often do not look at each other, and frequently even sit with their backs turned to one another.”

As soon as etiquette has been satisfied by these formalities, the speakers assume their ordinary tone of voice, and converse freely on subjects respecting which they really take an interest.

Oratory is highly valued by the Mapuchés, and should a young man have some power of speech, and train it into eloquence, he is on the high road to distinction, and will probably end by becoming a chief, though originally of inferior rank. Such young men are always eagerly sought by the chiefs as their messengers, inasmuch as etiquette requires that such messengers should not only possess a retentive memory, so as to insure, the transmission of the message correctly, but should also be fluent of speech and choice of diction, the latter being a point in which the Mapuchés are exceedingly fastidious.

A young man who shows himself to be a proficient in these three requisites is sure to be taken into the service of an important chief, and indeed he knows his own value too well to damage his prospects by serving any except a man of very high rank. Acting as messenger, he practically becomes a sort of ambassador, on whom the reputation of his principal is reflected, and by associating with the chief men, and speaking at their assemblies, he soon gains for himself that importance which was formerly only accorded to his official capacity. Men of this stamp have frequently become the masters of those whom they formerly served, their abilities having raised them to their appropriate station.

To a stranger the eloquence of these men is utterly unintelligible. They deliver their message in a sort of monotone, varied with inflections, but without the least spirit or action. In fact, they very much resemble schoolboys reciting a piece of poetry which they have learned by rote without taking the trouble to understand it. Yet the Mapuchés are held entranced during the delivery of such a discourse by an accomplished orator, the purity of whose diction excites the respectful admiration of his hearers.

Etiquette is so highly valued among the Araucanians that on one occasion an English gentleman nearly lost his life by neglecting a ceremonial. It seems that every chief, no matter how petty may be his domain, expects that every stranger who passes through his territory shall pay him a tribute. The amount of the tribute is of little consequence, so that something is given as an acknowledgment of rank.

Being new to the country, the gentleman in question was passing through the territory of a chief, when he was stopped and asked for tribute, a demand which he refused to pay, on the ground that he was only a traveller and not a trader. Thereupon a young man leaped into a cabin, brought out a trumpet made of a horn, and blew a blast upon it. The signal was answered in all directions, and from every side there poured in a number of mounted and armed warriors. The traveller was not daunted, in spite of the martial array, cocked his pistols, and awaited the attack, when his guide ran up to him, and begged him to give them something, if it were only a pocket-handkerchief.

The traveller saw at once, from the smallness of the suggested present, that it was a mere question of etiquette, and munificently presented the chief with a jack-knife. Enmity at once gave way to enthusiastic friendship. The old chief was quite overcome by the splendor of the gift, swore eternal friendship with the traveller, and sent a guard of honor to accompany him for several miles on his way.

We naturally come to the mode of government employed by the Araucanians.

The four great divisions are subdivided into provinces, and these into smaller districts, each of which is presided over by a chief, who exercises a kind of patriarchal authority over his clansmen. He is the judge and arbiter of the clan, and there is no appeal from his decision. Yet he levies no taxes, and cannot force even the lowest of his people to work for him. He can require the services of the men for war or for business of state, but there his authority ends. No land can be sold except by the chief, to whom it is by a sort of legal fiction supposed to belong, and even he cannot sell it to any except a native Araucanian, under penalty of death.

All these chiefs, or caciques, as they are often called, are considered to be equals in point of rank, and independent of each other, though one is chosen on account of his personal abilities to be the head chief of the district, but merely as primus inter pares. The office of chief is generally but not always hereditary. It mostly descends to the eldest son, but the actual holder of the office may bequeath it even to one who belongs to another family. Should a chief die without sons, brother, or a recognized successor, the people have the power of electing a chief for themselves, and it is on such occasions as these that the eloquent messengers lately described find their opportunity of being raised to the rank of cacique.

Up to this point the details of the government are simple enough. We now have to consider a most singular arrangement, unlike that of any other known nation. From the head chiefs of the various districts one is chosen as the Toqui, or head of the province, and these Toquis form the supreme council by whom the affairs of the nation are managed. From among them one is selected as president of the council, and is called by a title which signifies the Grand Toqui. He is the highest personage in the state. He can summon councils whenever he sees occasion, he watches over the welfare of the state, lays before his colleagues any information that he considers important, and on special occasions he can act on his own authority.

When Mr. E. R. Smith travelled in Araucania, the Grand Toqui was an old chief named Mañin, who seems to have been worthy of the position which he held. Mañin Hueno (“the Grass of Heaven”), as he was called by his compatriots, or Mañin Bueno (“Mañin the Good”), as the Chilenos termed him, was a very old man, his age being estimated as falling little short of a century, though his general bearing was such that he might have been taken for little more than sixty. His long black hair was but slightly sprinkled with silver, his eye retained its brightness, and his mien its uprightness; and though his many years had diminished his strength, they had not affected his intellect.

He was held in the very highest respect, as indeed was due to his acknowledged wisdom, by means of which war had many a time been averted. Yet he was not a rich man, and in point of wealth the greater number of the lesser chiefs were far richer than Mañin Hueno. His only marks of wealth were the solid silver horse accoutrements—but even these were not worth fifty pounds of our money; while his apparel was of the simplest kind, a red and yellow handkerchief tied round his head being the most costly article of his apparel.

When a council of Toquis is assembled, the members generally endeavor to outshine each other in the magnificence of their appointments; and after the day’s labor is over, they join in a general debauch, which sometimes lasts for the whole of the next day, and prevents the councillors from resuming their business until they have become sufficiently sober.

Now comes the curious part of Araucanian government. The Supreme Council treats only of the internal management of the nation, and is technically called the Council of Peace. As soon as war is declared, the Council of Peace falls into abeyance, and its place is taken by the Council of War. This is headed by the Toqui of War, who, as long as the war lasts, has unlimited power, except over life. He appoints the officers, settles the number of warriors required, orders a conscription to be set in operation in each district, and lays upon each cacique the duty of levying a certain number of men, and raising a certain amount of supplies. As soon as peace is concluded, he and all his council retire from office, and the Council of Peace reassumes its sway.