Odd People: Being a Popular Description of Singular Races of Man

Above all does it appear graceful on horseback, and almost universally in this attitude does the Chaco Indian exhibit it. Scarce ever may we meet him afoot, but always on the back of his beautiful horse, – the two together presenting the aspect of the Centaur. And probably in the resemblance he approaches nearer to the true ideal of the Grecian myth, than any other horseman in the world; for the Chaco Indians differ not only from other “horse Indians” in their mode of equitation, but also from every other equestrian people. The absurd high-peaked saddles of Tartar and Arab, with their gaudy trappings, are unknown to him, – unknown, too, the ridiculous paraphernalia, half-hiding the horse, in use among Mexicans, South-American Spaniards, and even the Indians of other tribes, – despised by him the plated bits, the embroidered bridles, and the tinkling spurs, so tickling to the vanity of other New-World equestrians. The Chaco horseman needs no such accessories to his elegance. Saddle he has none, or only the slightest patch of jaguar-skin, – spurs and stirrups are alike absent. Naked he sits upon his naked horse, the beautiful curvature of whose form is interrupted by no extraneous trappings, – even the thong that guides him scarce observable from its slightness. Who then can deny his resemblance to the centaur?

Thus mounted, with no other saddle than that described, no bridle but a thin strip of raw hide looped around the lower jaw of his horse, he will gallop wildly over the plain, wheel in graceful curves to avoid the burrows of the viscacha, pass at full speed through the close-standing and often thorny trunks of the palms, or, if need be, stand erect upon the withers of his horse, like a “star rider” of the Hippodrome. In this attitude he looks abroad for his enemies, or the game of which he may be in search; and, thus elevated above surrounding objects, he discovers the ostrich far off upon the plain, the large deer (cervus campestris), and the beautiful spotted roebucks that browse in countless herds upon the grass-covered savannas.

The dwelling of the Chaco Indian is a tent, not covered with skins, but usually with mats woven from the epidermis of young leaves of a palm-tree. It is set up by two long uprights and a ridge-pole, over which the mat is suspended – very much after the fashion of the tente d’abri used by Zouave soldiers. His bed is a hammock, swung between the upright poles, or oftener, between two palm-trees growing near. He only seeks shelter in his tent when it rains, and he prevents its floor getting wet by digging a trench around the outside. He cares little for exposure to the sun; but his wife is more delicate, and usually carries over her head a large bunch of rhea feathers, à la parasol, which protects her face from the hot scorching beams.

The tent does not stand long in one situation. Ample as is the supply which Nature affords in the wilds of the Chaco, it is not all poured out in any one place. This would be too much convenience, and would result in an evil consequence. The receiver of such a benefit would soon become indolent, from the absence of all necessity for exertion; and not only his health, but his moral nature, would suffer from such abundance.

Fortunately no such fate is likely to befall the Indian of the Chaco. The food upon which he subsists is derived from many varied sources, a few of which only are to be found in any one particular place, and each only at its own season of the year. For instance, upon the dry plains he pursues the rhea and viscacha, the jaguar, puma, and partridges; in woods and marshy places the different species of wild hogs (peccaries). On the banks of rivers he encounters the tapir and capivara, and in their waters, fish, utrias, geese, and ducks. In the denser forest-covered tracts he must look for the various kinds of monkeys, which also constitute a portion of his food. When he would gather the legumes, of the algarobias– of several species – or collects the sugary sap of the caraguatay, he must visit the tracts where the mimosae and bromelias alone flourish; and then he employs much of his time in searching for the nests of wild bees, from the honey of which and the seeds of the algarobia he distils a pleasant but highly intoxicating drink. To his credit, however, he uses this but sparingly, and only upon grand occasions of ceremony; how different from the bestial chicha-drinking revellers of the Pampas!

These numerous journeys, and the avocations connecting with them, hinder the Chaco Indian from falling into habits of idleness, and preserve his health to a longevity that is remarkable: so much so, that “to live as long as a Chaco Indian,” has become a proverbial expression in the settlements of South America.

The old Styrian monk Dobrizhoffer has chronicled the astounding facts, that among these people a man of eighty is reckoned to be in the prime of manhood; that a hundred years is accounted a common age; and that many of them are still hale and hearty at the age of one hundred and twenty! Allowing for a little exaggeration in the statements of the monk, it is nevertheless certain that the Indians of the Gran Chaco, partly owing to their fine climate, and partly to their mode of life and subsistence, enjoy health and strength to a very old age, and to a degree unknown in less-favoured regions of the world. Of this there is ample and trustworthy testimony.

The food of the Chaco Indian is of a simple character, and he makes no use either of salt or spices. He is usually the owner of a small herd of cattle and a few sheep, which he has obtained by plundering the neighbouring settlements of the Spaniards. It is towards those of the south and west that he generally directs his hostile forays; for he is at peace with the riverine provinces, – Brazilian, Paraguayan, and Correntine.

In these excursions he travels long distances, crossing many a fordless stream and river, and taking along with him wife, children, tents, and utensils, in short, everything which he possesses. He fords the streams by swimming, using one hand to guide his horse. With this hand he can also propel himself, while in the other, he carries his long lance, on the top of which he poises any object he does not wish should be wetted. A “balza,” called “pelota,” made of bull’s hide, and more like a square box than a boat, carries over the house utensils and the puppies, of which there are always a large number. The “precious baby” is also a passenger by the balza. The pelota is propelled, or rather, pulled over, by means of a tiller-rope, held in the teeth of a strong swimmer, or tied to the tail of a horse; and thus the crossing is effected.

Returning with his plunder – with herds of homed cattle or flocks of sheep – not unfrequently with human captives, women and children, the crossing becomes more difficult; but he is certain to effect it without loss, and almost without danger of being overtaken in the pursuit.

His freebooting habits should not be censured too gravely. Many extenuating circumstances must be taken into consideration, – his wrongs and sanguinary persecutions. It must be remembered that the hostilities commenced on the opposite side; and with the Indian the habit is not altogether indigenous, but rather the result of the principle of retaliation. He is near kindred to the Incas, – in fact, some of the Chaco tribes are remnants of the scattered Peruvian race, and he still remembers the sanguinary slaughter of his ancestors by the Pizarros and Almagros. Therefore, using the phraseology of the French tribunals, we may say there are “extenuating circumstances in his favour.” One circumstance undoubtedly speaks trumpet-tongued for the Chaco Indian; and that is, he does not torture his captives, even when white men have fallen into his hands! As to the captive women and children, their treatment is rather gentle than otherwise; in fact, they are adopted into the tribe, and share, alike with the rest, the pleasures as well as the hardships of a savage life.

When the Chaco Indian possesses horned cattle and sheep, he eats mutton and beef; but if these are wanting, he must resort to the chase. He captures deer and ostriches by running them down with his swift steed, and piercing them with his long spear; and occasionally he uses the bolas. For smaller game he employs the bow and arrow, and fish are also caught by shooting them with arrows.

The Chaco Indian is the owner of a breed of dogs, and large packs of these animals may be seen around his camping-ground, or following the cavalcade in its removal from place to place. They are small creatures, – supposed to be derived from a European stock, but they are wonderfully prolific, the female often bringing forth twelve puppies at a birth. They burrow in the ground, and subsist on the offal of the camp. They are used in running down the spotted roebuck, in hunting the capivara, the great ant-bear, viscachas, and other small animals. The tapir is taken in traps, and also speared, when the opportunity offers. His flesh is relished by the Chaco Indian, but his hide is of more consequence, as from it bags, whips, and various other articles can be manufactured. The peccary of two species (dicotyles torquatus and collaris) is also pursued by the dogs, and speared by the hunter while pausing to bay the yelping pack; and the great American tiger (jaguar) is killed in a like manner. The slaying of this fierce and powerful quadruped is one of the feats of the Chaco hunter, and both its skin and flesh are articles of eager demand. The latter is particularly sought for; as by eating the flesh of so strong and courageous a creature the Indian fancies his own strength and courage will be increased. When a jaguar is killed, its carcass becomes the common property of all; and each individual of the tribe must have his slice, or “griskin,” – however small the piece may be after such multiplied subdivision! For the same reason, the flesh of the wild boar is relished; also that of the ant-bear – one of the most courageous of animals, – and of the tapir, on account of its great strength.

The bread of the Chaco Indian is derived, as before mentioned, from several species of mimosae, called indefinitely algarobias, and by the missionary monks known as “Saint John’s bread.” Palms of various kinds furnish edible nuts; and there are many trees in the Chaco forests that produce luscious fruits. With these the Indian varies his diet, and also with wild honey, – a most important article, for reasons already assigned. In the Chaco there are stingless bees, of numerous distinct species, – a proof of the many blossoms which bloom as it were “unseen” in that flowery Elysium. The honey of these bees – of some of the species in particular – is known to be of the finest and purest quality. In the Spanish settlements it commands the highest price, and is very difficult to be obtained, – for the Chaco Indian is but little given to commerce, and only occasionally brings it to market. He has but few wants to satisfy, and cares not for the tinsel of the trader: hence it is that most of the honey he gathers is reserved for his own use. He searches for the bees’ nest by observing the flight of the insect, as it passes back and forward over the wild parterre; and his keenness of sight – far surpassing that of a European – enables him to trace its movements in the air, and follow it to its hoard. He alleges that he could not accomplish this so well, were he encumbered with eyebrows and lashes, and offers this as one of his reasons for extracting these hirsute appendages. There may be something in what he says, – strange as it sounds to the ear of one who is not a bee-hunter. He finds the nest at length, – sometimes in a hollow tree, sometimes upon a branch, – the latter kind of nest being a large mass, of a substance like blotting-paper, and hanging suspended from the twigs. Sometimes he traces the insect to a subterranean dwelling; but it must be remarked that all these are different species of bees, that build their nests and construct the cells of their honeycombs each in its own favourite place, and according to its own fashion. The bee-hunter cares not how – so long as he can find the nest; though he would prefer being guided to one built upon a species of thick octagonal cactus, known as the habitat of the bee “tosimi.” This preference is caused by the simple fact – that of all the honey in the Chaco, that of the bee “tosimi” is the sweetest.

It is to be regretted that, with his many virtues, and his fine opportunity of exercising them, the Chaco Indian will not consent to remain in peace and good-will with all men. It seems a necessity of his nature to have an occasional shy at some enemy, whether white or of his own complexion. But, indeed, it would be ridiculous to censure him for this, since it appears also to be a vice universal among mankind; for where is the tribe or nation, savage or civilised, who does not practise it, whenever it feels bold enough or strong enough to do so? The Chaco Indian is not alone in his disregard of of the sixth commandment, – not the only being on earth who too frequently goes forth to battle.

He has two distinct kinds of enemies, – one of European, the other of his own race, – almost of his own kindred, you would say. But it must be remembered that there are several distinct tribes dwelling in the Chaco; who, although presenting a certain similitude, are in many respects widely dissimilar; and, so far from forming one nation, or living in harmonious alliance with each other, are more frequently engaged in the most deadly hostilities. Their wars are all conducted on horseback, – all cavalry skirmishes, – the Chaco Indian disdaining to touch the ground with his foot. Dismounted he would feel himself vanquished, – as much out of his element as a fish, out of water!

His war weapons are of a primitive kind; they are the bow and lance, and a species of club, known in Spanish phraseology as the “macana.” This last weapon is also found in the hands of several of the Amazonian tribes, though differing slightly in its construction. The “macana” of the Chaco Indian is a short, stout piece of heavy iron-wood, – usually a species known as the quebracha, or “axe-breaker,” which grows plentifully throughout the Paraguayan countries. Numerous species are termed “quebracha” in Spanish-American countries, as there are numerous “iron-woods.” That of Paraguay, like most others that have obtained this name, is a species of ebony-wood, or lignum-vitae, – in short, a true guaiacum. The wood is hard, solid, and heavy almost as metal; and therefore just the very stuff for a war-club.

The macana of the Chaco Indian is short, – not much over two feet in length, and is used both for striking in the hand and throwing to a distance. It is thicker, and of course heavier, at both extremities; and the mode of grasping it is round the narrow part in the middle. The Indian youths, while training for war, practise throwing the macana, as other people play at skittles or quoits.

The lazo and bolas are both in the hands of the Chaco tribes, but these contrivances are used sparingly, and more for hunting than war. They rarely trouble themselves with them on a real war expedition.

Their chief weapons against an enemy are their long lances, – for these are far the most effective arms for a man mounted on horseback. Those of the Chaco Indian are of enormous length, their shafts being often fifteen feet from butt to barb. They use them also when mounting on horseback, in a fashion peculiar to themselves. They mount by the right side, contrary to our European mode; nor is there the slightest resemblance in any other respect between the two fashions of getting into the saddle. With the Chaco Indian there is no putting toes into stirrups, – no tugging at the poor steed’s withers, – no clinging or climbing into the seat. He places the butt of his lance upon the ground, grasps it a little above his head with the right hand, and then raising his lithe body with an elastic spring, he drops like a cat upon the spine of his well-trained steed. A word, – a touch of his knee, or other well-understood signal, – and the animal is off like an arrow.

When the Chaco Indian goes to war against the whites, his arms are those already described. He is not yet initiated into the use of guns and gunpowder, though he often experiences their deadly effects. Indeed, the wonder is that he could have maintained his independence so long, with such weapons opposed to him. Gunpowder has often given cowards the victory over brave men; but the Chaco Indian, even without gunpowder, has managed somehow or other to preserve his freedom.

When he makes an expedition against the white settlements, he carries no shield or other defensive armour. He did so at one period of his history; but experience has taught him that these contrivances are of little use against leaden bullets; and he has thrown them away, taking them up again, however, when he goes to war with enemies of his own kind.

In attacking a settlement or village of the whites, one of his favourite strategic plans is to set the houses on fire; and in this he very often succeeds, – almost certainly when the thatch chances to be dry. His plan is to project an arrow with a piece of blazing cotton fastened near the head. For this purpose he uses the strongest kind of bow, and lying upon his back, bends it with his feet. By this means a much longer range is obtained, and the aim is of little consequence, so long as the arrow falls upon the roof a house.

On going to war with a hostile tribe of his own kind and colour, he equips himself in a manner altogether different His face is then painted most frightfully, and in the most hideous designs that his imagination can suggest, while his body is almost entirely covered by a complete suit of mail. The thick hide of the tapir furnishes him with the materials for helmet, cuirass, cuisses, greaves, everything, – and underneath is a lining of jaguar-skin. Thus accoutred he is in little danger from the arrows of the enemy, though he is also sadly encumbered in the management of his horse; and were he upon a plundering expedition against the whites, such an encumbrance would certainly bring him to grief. He knows that very well, and therefore he never goes in such guise upon any foray that is directed towards the settlements.

The Chaco Indian has now been at peace with his eastern neighbours – both Spaniards and Portuguese – for a considerable length of time; but he still keeps up hostility with the settlements on the south, – those of Cordova and San Luis, – and often returns from these wretched provinces laden with booty. If he should chance to bring away anything that is of no use to him, or that may appear superfluous in his savage home, – a harp or guitar, a piece of costly furniture, or even a handsome horse, – he is not required to throw it away: he knows that he can find purchasers on the other side of the river, – among the Spanish merchants of Corrientes or Paraguay, who are ready at any time to become the receivers of the property stolen from their kindred of the south!

Such queer three-cornered dealings are also carried on in the northern countries of Spanish America, – in the provinces of Chihuahua, New Leon, and New Mexico. They are there called “cosas de Mexico.” It appears they are equally “cosas de Paraguay.”

Chapter Seven.

The Feegees, or Man-Eaters

Have I a reader who has not heard of the “King of the Cannibal Islands?” I think I may take it for granted that there is not one in my large circle of boy-readers who has not heard of that royal anthropophagist, that “mighty king” who, —

                “In one hut,Had fifty wives as black as sut,And fifty of a double smut —That King of the Cannibal Islands.”

And yet, strange as it may appear, the old song was no exaggeration – neither as regards the number of his wives, nor any other particular relating to King “Musty-fusty-shang.” On the contrary, it presents a picture of the life and habits of his polygamous majesty that is, alas! too ludicrously like the truth.

Though the king of the Cannibal Islands has been long known by reputation, people never had any very definite idea in what quarter of the world his majesty’s dominions lay. Being, as the name implies, an island-kingdom, it was to be looked for of course, in some part of the ocean; and the Pacific Ocean or Great South Sea was generally regarded as that in which it was situated; but whether it was the Tonga Islands, or the Marquesas, or the Loo-Choos, or the Soo-loos – or some other group, that was entitled to the distinction of being the man-eating community, with the man-eating king at their head – was not very distinctly ascertained up to a recent period. On this head there is uncertainty no longer. Though in several groups of South-Sea Islands the horrible propensity is known to exist, yet the man-eaters, par excellence, the real bona-fide followers of the habit, are the Feegees. Beyond doubt these are the greatest cannibals in all creation, their islands the true “Cannibal Islands,” and their king no other than “Musty-fusty-shang” himself.

Alas! the subject is too serious to jest upon, and it is not without pain that we employ our pen upon it. The truth must needs be told; and there is no reason why the world should not know how desperately wicked men may become under the influence of a despotism that leaves the masses in the power of the irresponsible few, with no law, either moral or physical, to restrain their unbridled passions.

You will find the Feegee Islands, in the Pacific Ocean, in the latitude of 18 degrees south. This parallel passes nearly through the centre of the group. Their longitude is remarkable: it is the complement of the meridian of Greenwich – the line 180 degrees. Therefore, when it is noon in London, it is midnight among the Feegees. Take the intersection of these two lines, 18 degrees latitude and 180 degrees longitude as a centre; describe an imaginary circle, with a diameter of 300 miles; its circumference, with the slight exception of a small outlying group, will enclose, in a “ring fence,” as it were, the whole Feegee archipelago.

The group numbers, in all, no fewer than 225 islands and islets, of which between 80 and 90 are at present inhabited – the whole population being not much under 200,000. The estimates of writers differ widely on this point; some state 150,000 – others, more than double this amount. There is reason to believe that 150,000 is too low. Say, then, 200,000; since the old adage: “In medias res,” is generally true.

Only two of the islands are large, – “Viti,” and “Vanua.” Viti is 90 miles long, by 50 in breadth, and Vanua 100 by 25. Some are what are known as “coral islands;” others are “volcanic,” presenting all varieties of mountain aspect, rugged and sublime. A few of the mountain-peaks attain the elevation of 5,000 feet above sea-level, and every form is known – table-topped, dome-shaped, needle, and conical. In fact, no group in the Pacific affords so many varieties of form and aspect, as are to be observed in the Feegee archipelago. In sailing through these islands, the most lovely landscapes open out before the eye, the most picturesque groupings of rocks, ridges, and mountain-peaks, ravines filled with luxuriant vegetation, valleys covered with soft verdure, so divinely fair as to appear the abode of angelic beings. “So beautiful was their aspect,” writes one who visited them, “that I could scarcely bring my mind to the realising sense of the well-known fact, that they were the abode of a savage, ferocious, and treacherous race of cannibals.” Such, alas! is the fact, well-known, as the writer observes.

Perhaps to no part of the world has Nature been more bountiful than to the Feegee Islands. She has here poured out her favours in very profusion; and the cornucopia might be regarded as an emblem of the land. The richest products of a tropic vegetation flourish in an abundance elsewhere unknown, and the growth of valuable articles of food is almost spontaneous. Many kinds are really of spontaneous production; and those under cultivation are almost endless in numbers and variety. Yams grow to the length of six feet, weighing one hundred pounds each! and several varieties are cultivated. The sweet potato reaches the weight of five or six pounds, and the “taro” (Arum esculentum) also produces a root of enormous size, which forms the staple article of the Feegeean’s food. Still another great tuber, weighing twenty or thirty pounds, and used as a liquorice, is the produce of the “massawe,” or ti-tree (dracaena terminalis); and the root of the piper methisticum often attains the weight of one hundred and forty pounds! This last is possessed of highly narcotic properties; and is the material universally used in the distillation, or rather brewing, of the native drink called “yaqona” – the “kava” of the South-Sea voyagers. Breadfruit grows in abundance: there being no less than nine varieties of this celebrated tree upon the different islands of the group, each producing a distinct kind of fruit; and what is equally remarkable, of the musaceae– the plantain and banana – there are in the Feegee isles thirty different kinds, either of spontaneous growth, or cultivated! All these are well distinguished from one another, and bear distinct appellations. Three kinds of cocoa-palm add to the extraordinary variety of vegetable food, as well as to the picturesqueness of the scenery; but there is no lack of lovely forms in the vegetation, where the beautiful ti-tree grows, – where the fern and the screw-pines flourish, – where plantains and bananas unfold their broad bright leaves to the sun; where arums spread their huge fronds mingling with the thick succulent blades of the bromelia, and where pawpaws, shaddocks, orange and lime-trees exhibit every hue of foliage, from deep-green to the most brilliant golden.