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

I have endeavoured to clear the Andaman islander of the charge of this guilt; and, since appearances are so much against him, he ought to feel grateful. It is doubtful whether he would, should this fall into his hands, and he be able to read it. The portrait of his face without that stain upon it, he might regard as ugly enough; and that of his habits, which now follows, is not much more flattering.

His house is little better than the den of a wild beast; and far inferior in ingenuity of construction to those which beavers build. A few poles stuck in the ground are leant towards each other, and tied together at the top. Over these a wattle of reeds and rattan-leaves forms the roof; and on the floor a “shake-down” of withered leaves makes his bed, or, perhaps it should rather be called his “lair.” This, it will be perceived, is just the house built by Diggers, Bushmen, and Fuegians. There are no culinary utensils, – only a drinking-cup of the nautilus shell; but implements of war and the chase in plenty: for such are found even amongst the lowest of savages. They consist of bows, arrows, and a species of javelin or dart. The bows are very long, and made of the bamboo cane, – as are also the darts. The arrows are usually pointed with the tusks of the small wild hogs which inhabit the islands. These they occasionally capture in the chase, hanging up the skulls in their huts as trophies and ornaments. With strings of the hog’s teeth also they sometimes ornament their bodies; but they are not very vain in this respect. Sometimes pieces of iron are found among them, – nails flattened to form the blades of knives, or to make an edge for their adzes, the heads of which are of hard wood. These pieces of iron they have no doubt obtained from wrecked vessels, or in the occasional intercourse which they have had with the convict establishment; but there is no regular commerce with them, – in fact, no commerce whatever, – as even the Malay traders, that go everywhere, do not visit the Andamaners, from dread of their well-known Ishmaelitish character. Some of the communities, more forward in civilisation, possess articles of more ingenious construction, – such as baskets to hold fruits and shell-fish, well-made bows, and arrows with several heads, for shooting fish. The only other article they possess of their own manufacture, is a rude kind of canoe, hollowed out of the trunk of a tree, by means of fire and their poor adze. A bamboo raft, of still ruder structure, enables them to cross the narrow bays and creeks by which their coast is indented.

Their habitual dwelling-place is upon the shore. They rarely penetrate the thick forests of the interior, where there is nothing to tempt them: for the wild hog, to which they sometimes give chase, is found only along the coasts where the forest is thinner and more straggling, or among the mangrove-bushes, – on the fruits of which these animals feed. Strange to say, the forest, though luxuriant in species, affords but few trees that bear edible fruits. The cocoa-palm – abundant in all other parts of the East-Indian territories, and even upon the Cocos Islands, that lie a little north of the Andamans – does not grow upon these mountain islands. Since the savages know nothing of cultivation, of course their dependence upon a vegetable diet would be exceedingly precarious. A few fruits and roots are eaten by them. The pandanus, above mentioned, bears a fine cone-shaped fruit, often weighing between thirty and forty pounds; and this, under the name of mellori, or “Nicobar breadfruit,” forms part of their food. But it requires a process of cooking, which, being quite unknown to the Andamaners, must make it to them a “bitter fruit” even when roasted in the ashes of their fires, which is their mode of preparing it. They eat also the fruit of the mangrove, and of some other trees – but these are not obtainable at all seasons, or in such quantity as to afford them a subsistence. They depend principally upon fish, which they broil in a primitive manner over a gridiron of bamboos, sometimes not waiting till they are half done. They especially subsist upon shell-fish, several kinds abounding on their coasts, which they obtain among the rocks after the tide has gone out. To gather these is the work of the women, while the men employ themselves in fishing or in the chase of the wild hog. The species of shell-fish most common are the murex tribulus, trochus telescopium, cypraea caurica, and mussels. They are dexterous in capturing other fish with their darts, which they strike down upon the finny prey, either from their rafts, or by wading up to their knees in the water. They also take fish by torchlight, – that is, by kindling dry grass, the blaze of which attracts certain species into the shallow water, where the fishers stand in wait for them.

When the fishery fails them, and the oysters and muscles become scarce, they are often driven to sad extremities, and will then eat anything that will sustain life, – lizards, insects, worms, – perhaps even human flesh. They are not unfrequently in such straits; and instances are recorded, where they have been found lying upon the shore in the last stages of starvation.

An instance of this kind is related in connection with the convict settlement of 1793. A coasting-party one day discovered two Andamaners lying upon the beach. They were at first believed to be dead, but as it proved, they were only debilitated from hunger: being then in the very last stages of famine. They were an old man and a boy; and having been carried at once to the fort, every means that humanity could suggest was used to recover them. With the boy this result was accomplished; but the old man could not be restored: his strength was too far gone; and he died, shortly after being brought to the settlement.

Two women or young girls were also found far gone with hunger; so far, that a piece of fish held out was sufficient to allure them into the presence of a boat’s crew that had landed on the shore. They were taken on board the ship, and treated with the utmost humanity. In a short time they got rid of all fears of violence being offered them; but seemed, at the same time, to be sensible of modesty to a great degree. They had a small apartment allotted to them; and though they could hardly have had any real cause for apprehension, yet it was remarked that the two never went to sleep at the same time: one always kept watch while the other slept! When time made them more familiar with the good intentions towards them, they became exceedingly cheerful, chattered with freedom, and were amused above all things at the sight of their own persons in a mirror. They allowed clothes to be put on them; but took them off again, whenever they thought they were not watched, and threw them away as a useless encumbrance! They were fond of singing; sometimes in a melancholy recitative, and sometimes in a lively key; and they often gave exhibitions of dancing around the deck, in the fashion peculiar to the Andamans. They would not drink either wine or any spirituous liquor; but were immoderately fond of fish and sugar. They also ate rice when it was offered to them. They remained, or rather were retained, several weeks on board the ship; and had become so smooth and plump, under the liberal diet they indulged in, that they were scarce recognisable as the half-starved creatures that had been brought aboard so recently. It was evident, however, that they were not contented. Liberty, even with starvation allied to it, appeared sweeter to them than captivity in the midst of luxury and ease. The result proved that this sentiment was no stranger to them: for one night, when all but the watchman were asleep, they stole silently through the captain’s cabin, jumped out of the stern windows into the sea, and swam to an island full half a mile distant from the ship! It was thought idle to pursue them; but, indeed, there was no intention of doing so. The object was to retain them by kindness, and try what effect might thus be produced on their wild companions, when they should return to them. Strange to say, this mode of dealing with the Andaman islanders has been made repeatedly, and always with the same fruitless result. Whatever may have been the original cause that interrupted their intercourse with the rest of mankind, they seem determined that this intercourse shall never be renewed.

When plenty reigns among them, and there has been a good take of fish, they act like other starved wretches; and yield themselves up to feasting and gorging, till not a morsel remains. At such times they give way to excessive mirth, – dancing for hours together, and chattering all the while like as many apes.

They are extremely fond of “tripping it on the light fantastic toe;” and their dance is peculiar. It is carried on by the dancers forming a ring, and leaping about, each at intervals saluting his own posteriors with a slap from his foot, – a feat which both the men and women perform with great dexterity. Not unfrequently this mode of salutation is passed from one to the other, around the the whole ring, – causing unbounded merriment among the spectators.

Their fashion of dress is, perhaps, the most peculiar of all known costumes. As to clothing, they care nothing about it, – the females only wearing a sort of narrow fringe around the waist, – not from motives of modesty, but simply as an ornament; and in this scant garment we have a resemblance to the liku of the Feegeeans. It can hardly be said, however, that either men or women go entirely naked; for each morning, after rising from his couch of leaves, the Andamaner plasters the whole of his body with a thick coat of mud, which he wears throughout the day. Wherever this cracks from getting dry by the sun, the place is patched or mended up with a fresh layer. The black mop upon his head is not permitted to wear its natural hue; but, as already mentioned, is coloured by means of a red ochreous earth, which is found in plenty upon the islands. This reddening of his poll is the only attempt which the Andamaner makes at personal adornment; for his livery of mud is assumed for a purpose of utility, – to protect his body from the numerous mosquitoes, and other biting insects, whose myriads infest the lowland coast upon which he dwells.

A startling peculiarity of these islanders is the unmitigated hostility which they exhibit, and have always exhibited, towards every people with whom they have, come in contact. It is not the white man alone whom they hate and harass; but they also murder the Malay, whose skin is almost as dark as their own. This would seem to contradict the hypothesis of a tradition of hostility preserved amongst them, and directed against white men who enslaved their ancestors; but, indeed, that story has been sufficiently refuted. A far more probable cause of their universal hatred is, that, at some period of their history, they have been grossly abused; so much so as to render suspicion and treachery almost an instinct of their nature.

In these very characteristic moral features we find another of those striking analogies that would seem to connect them with the negrillo races of the Eastern Archipelago; but, whether they are or are not connected with them, their appearance upon the Andaman is no greater mystery, than the solitary “fox-wolf” on the Falkland Islands, or the smallest wingless insect in some lone islet of the Ocean?

Chapter Seventeen.

The Patagonian Giants

Who has not heard of the giants of Patagonia? From the days of Magellan, when they were first seen, many a tale has been told, and many a speculation indulged in about these colossal men: some representing them as very Titans, of twelve feet in height, and stout in proportion: that, when standing a little astride, an ordinary-sized man could pass between their legs without even stooping his head! So talked the early navigators of the Great South Sea.

Since the time when these people were first seen by Europeans, up to the present hour, – in all, three hundred and thirty years ago, – it is astonishing how little has been added to our knowledge of them; the more so, that almost every voyager who has since passed through the Straits of Magellan, has had some intercourse with them; – the more so, that Spanish people have had settlements on the confines of their country; and one – an unsuccessful one, however – in the very heart of it! But these Spanish settlements have all decayed, or are fast decaying; and when the Spanish race disappears from America, – which sooner or later it will most certainly do, – it will leave behind it a greater paucity of monumental record, than perhaps any civilised nation ever before transmitted to posterity.

Little, however, as we have learnt about the customs of the Patagonian people, we have at least obtained a more definite idea of their height. They have been measured. The twelve-feet giants can no longer be found; they never existed, except in the fertile imaginations of some of the old navigators, – whose embodied testimony, nevertheless, it is difficult to disbelieve. Other and more reliable witnesses have done away with the Titans; but still we are unable to reduce the stature of the Patagonians to that of ordinary men. If not actual giants, they are, at all events, very tall men, – many of them standing seven feet in their boots of guanaco-leather, few less than six, and a like few rising nearly to eight! These measurements are definite and certain; and although the whole number of the Indians that inhabit the plains of Patagonia may not reach the above standard there are tribes of smaller men called by the common name Patagonians, – yet many individuals certainly exist who come up to it.

If not positive giants, then, it is safe enough to consider the Patagonians as among the “tallest” of human beings, – perhaps the very tallest that exist, or ever existed, upon the face of the earth; and for this reason, if for no other, they are entitled to be regarded as an “odd people.” But they have other claims to this distinction; for their habits and customs, although in general corresponding to those of other tribes of American Indians, present us with many points that are peculiar.

It may be remarked that the Patagonian women, although not so tall as their men, are in the usual proportion observable between the sexes. Many of them are more corpulent than the men; and if the latter be called giants, the former have every claim to the appellation of giantesses!

We have observed, elsewhere, the very remarkable difference between the two territories, lying respectively north and south of the Magellan Straits, – the Patagonian on the north, and the Fuegian on the south. No two lands could exhibit a greater contrast than these, – the former with its dry sterile treeless plains, – the latter almost entirely without plains; and, excepting a portion of its eastern end, without one level spot of an acre in breadth; but a grand chaos of humid forest-clad ravines and snow-covered mountains. Yet these two dissimilar regions are only separated by a narrow sea-channel, – deep, it is true; but so narrow, that a cannon-shot may be projected from one shore to the other. Not less dissimilar are the people who inhabit these opposite shores; and one might fancy a strange picture of contrast presented in the Straits of Magellan: on some projecting bluff on the northern shore, a stalwart Patagonian, eight feet in height, with his ample guanaco skin floating from his shoulders, and his long spear towering ten feet above his head; – on the southern promontory, the dwarfed and shrivelled figure of a Fuegian, – scarce five feet tall, – with tiny bow and arrows in hand, and shivering under his patch of greasy sealskin! – and yet so near each other, that the stentorian voice of the giant may thunder in the ears of the dwarf; while the henlike cackle of the latter may even reach those of his colossal vis-à-vis!

Notwithstanding this proximity, there is no converse between them; for, unlike as are their persons, they are not more dissimilar than their thoughts, habits, and actions. The one is an aquatic animal, the other essentially terrestrial; and, strange to say, in this peculiarity the weaker creature has the advantage: since the Fuegian can cross in his bark canoe to the territory of his gigantic neighbour, while the latter has no canoe nor water-craft of any kind, and therefore never thinks of extending his excursions to the “land of fire,” excepting at one very narrow place where he has effected a crossing. In many other respects, more particularly detailed elsewhere, – in their natural dispositions and modes of life, these two peoples are equally dissimilar; and although learned craniologists may prove from their skulls, that both belong to one division of the human family, this fact proves also that craniology, like anatomy, is but a blind guide in the illustration of scientific truth, – whether the subject be the skull of a man or an animal. Despite all the revelations of craniologic skill, an Indian of Patagonia bears about the same resemblance to an Indian of Tierra del Fuego, as may be found between a bull and a bluebottle!

Before proceeding to describe the modes of life practised by the Patagonian giants, a word or two about the country they inhabit.

It may be generally described as occupying the whole southern part of South America, – from the frontier of the Spanish settlements to the Straits of Magellan, – and bounded east and west by the two great oceans. Now, the most southern Spanish (Buenos-Ayrean) settlement is at the mouth of Rio Negro; therefore, the Rio Negro – which is the largest river south of the La Plata – may be taken as the northern boundary of Patagonia. Not that the weak, vitiated Spanish-American extends his sway from the Atlantic to the Andes: on the contrary, the Indian aborigines, under one name or another, are masters of the whole interior, – not only to the north of the Rio Negro, but to the very shores of the Caribbean Sea! Yes, the broad inland of South America, from Cape Horn to the sea of the Antilles, is now, as it always has been, the domain of the Red Indian; who, so far from having ever been reduced by conquest, has not only resisted the power of the Spanish sword, and the blandishments of the Spanish cross; but at this hour is encroaching, with constant and rapid strides, upon the blood-stained territory wrested from him by that Christian conquest!

And this is the man who is so rapidly to disappear from the face of the earth! If so, it is not the puny Spaniard who is destined to push him off. If he is to disappear, it will be at such a time, that no Spaniard will be living to witness his extermination.

Let us take Patagonia proper, then, as bordered upon the north by the Rio Negro, and extending from the Atlantic to the Pacific. In that case it is a country of eight hundred miles in length, with a breadth of at least two hundred, – a country larger than either France or Spain. Patagonia is usually described as a continuation of the great plains, known as the “Pampas,” which extend from the La Plata River to the eastern slope of the Andes. This idea is altogether erroneous. It is true that Patagonia is a country of plains, – excepting that portion of it occupied by the Andes, which is, of course, a mountain tract, much of it resembling Tierra del Fuego in character more than Patagonia. Indeed, Patagonia proper can hardly be regarded as including this mountain strip: since the Patagonian Indians only inhabit the plains properly so called. These plains differ essentially from those of the Pampas. The latter are based upon a calcareous formation: and produce a rank, rich herbage, – here of gigantic thistles and wild artichokes, – there of tall grasses; and, still nearer the mountains, they are thinly covered with copses of low trees. The plains of Patagonia on the other hand, are of tertiary formation, covered all over with a shingly pebble of porphyry and basalt, and almost destitute of vegetation. Here and there are some tufts of scanty grass with a few stunted bushes in the valleys of the streams, but nothing that can be called a tree. A surface drear and arid, in places mottled with “salinas” or salt lakes; with fresh water only found at long intervals, and, when found, of scanty supply. There are many hilly tracts, but nothing that can be called mountains, – excepting the snow-covered Cordilleras in the west. The Patagonian plain is not everywhere of equal elevation: it rises by steps, as you follow it westward, beginning from the sea-level of the Atlantic shore; until, having reached the piedmont of the Andes, you still find yourself on a plain, but one which is elevated three thousand feet above the point from which you started. At all elevations, however, it presents the same sterile aspect; and you perceive that Patagonia is a true desert, – as much so as Atacama, in Peru, the desert of the Colorado in the north, the “barren grounds” of Hudson’s Bay, the Sahara and Kalahari, Gobi, or the steppe of Kaurezm. To the South-African deserts it bears a more striking resemblance than to any of the others, – a resemblance heightened by the presence of that most remarkable of birds, – the ostrich. Two species stalk over the plains of Patagonia, – the struthio rhea and struthio Darwinii. The former extends northward over the Pampas, but not southward to the Straits of Magellan; the latter reaches the Straits, but is never seen upon the Pampas. The ranges of both meet and overlap near the middle of the Patagonian plain.

In addition to the ostrich, there are other large birds that frequent the steppes of Patagonia. The great condor here crosses the continent, and appears upon the Atlantic shores. He perches upon the cliffs of the sea, – as well as those that overhang the inland streams, – and builds his nest upon the bare rock. Two species of polyborus, or vulture-eagles, – the “carrancha” and “chiniango,” – fly side by side with the condor; and the black turkey-vultures are also denizens of this desert land. The red puma, too, has his home here; the fox of Azara; and several species of hawks and eagles.

With the exception of the first-mentioned – the ostrich – all these beasts and birds are predatory creatures; and require flesh for their subsistence. Where do they get it? Upon what do they all prey? Surely not upon the ostrich: since this bird is bigger than any of the birds of prey, and able to defend itself even against the great condor. There are only one or two other species of birds upon which the eagles might subsist, – a partridge and two kinds of plover; but the vultures could not get a living out of partridges and plovers. Small quadrupeds are alike scarce. There are only two or three species; and very small creatures they are, – one a sort of mole, “terutero,” and several kinds of mice. The latter are, indeed, numerous enough in some places, – swarming over the ground in tracts so sterile, that it is difficult to understand upon what they subsist. But vultures do not relish food, which they require to kill for themselves. They are too indolent for that; and wherever they are found, there must be some source of supply, – some large quadrupeds to provide them with their favourite food, – carrion. Otherwise, in this desert land, how should the ravenous puma maintain himself? – how the vultures and vulture-eagles? and, above all, upon what does the Patagonian himself subsist, – a man of such great bulk, as naturally to require more than the ordinary amount of food? The answer to all these questions, then, is, that a quadruped does exist in the deserts of Patagonia; which, if it furnish not all these creatures with their full diet supplies, does a large proportion of it. This quadruped is the guanaco.

Before proceeding to give an account of the guanaco, let us paint the portrait of the Patagonian himself.

As already observed, he is nearly seven feet in height, without any exaggeration in the way of a hat. He wears none, but suffers his long black hair to hang loosely over his shoulders, or, more frequently, gathers it into a knot or club upon the crown of his head. To keep it from straggling into his eyes, he usually wears a narrow strap of guanaco skin around his forehead, or a plaited band of the hair of the same animal; but, although possessing ostrich-feathers at discretion, he rarely indulges in the fashion of wearing a plume, – he knows he is tall enough without one. Over his shoulders, and hanging nearly to his heels, he wears a loose mantle of guanaco skins; which is of sufficient width to wrap round his body, and meet over his breast, – should he feel cold enough to require it. But he is not of a chilly nature; and he often throws this mantle entirely aside to give him the freedom of his arms; or more generally ties a girdle round it, and leaves the upper part to fall back from his shoulders, and hang down over the girdle. This mantle – with the exception of a small pouch-like apron in front – is the only “garment,” the Patagonian wears upon his body; but his lower limbs have a covering of their own. These are encased in a sort of boots or mocassins, – but differing from all other boots and mocassins, in the fact of their being without soles! They are made of the same material as the mantle, – that is, of the skin of the guanaco, – but sometimes also of the skin of a horse’s shank, – for the Patagonian, like the Pampas Indian, is in possession of this valuable animal.