CHAPTER VII.

Prairies in Minnesota and Iowa. — Boulders. — Glacial Drift. — Wild Rice. — Snow Storm. — Nebraska. — The Pawnees. — Human Sacrifices. — Note on Indian Customs in War and Cannibalism. — Prairie Fires. — Prairie-Dog Villages. — Rattlesnakes. — Variations in the succession of growths of Trees. — Causes of absence of Trees upon Prairies. — Shoshone Indians on the Western Deserts. — Note upon Ute Indians and Fuegians.

It was getting late in the year, when I commenced to cross the prairies of Minnesota and Iowa. The higher plateaux were in many places already covered with snow, upon which we saw numerous tracks of wolves. The long icicles upon the graceful little waterfall of the Minne-ha-ha, indicated the approach of a severe winter, and flocks of wild geese were flying towards the upper lakes.

For many miles the surface of the land looked black, in consequence of the prairie fires that had burnt the grass, during the latter part of the autumn. On the eastern borders, near the rivers, we passed some scattered villages, chiefly occupied by emigrants of Welsh or Scandinavian origin; but towards the interior the land was too wet and exposed for the purposes of cultivation. Here and there, on the plains, we saw the lonely huts of adventurous squatters, who obtained a precarious living by supplying the wants of those who passed near them, on their way towards the South. At one of these dwellings situated upon the open plain, twenty miles from the nearest village, we halted after a long journey over a dreary country, forming the watershed of the streams that flowed east or west into the valleys of the Missouri and Mississippi.

The hut was occupied by a man, who, with his wife and family, had been settled in this remote region for several years. As there was no timber to be obtained in the neighbourhood, he had built the walls of his house with wide, thick slabs of turf, which made a good protection against the storms of winter. He possessed one hundred and fifty acres of land, of which he only cultivated the small portion he had been able to preserve from the ravages of prairie fires. The difficulty of guarding the homestead against this danger, had caused him to feel much anxiety, but he said that he had, at last, discovered an effectual method of preventing any damage being caused, as far as his crops and buildings were concerned.

He saw upon one occasion, that the grass was burning on the verge of the southern horizon, and the flames appeared to be advancing rapidly in the direction of his farm. It occurred to him to try the plan of running two plough furrows in parallel lines between the edge of his land and the approaching fire. He made them about twenty yards apart, and then burnt the grass, thus leaving a bare space of blackened earth. The flames advanced upon their onward course, destroying everything before them until they reached the outer furrow, when they were stopped by there not being any grass for fuel, and as they could not leap over the intervening space, the fire passed to the right and left, leaving the farm in the centre untouched. The prairie around this squatter’s home, was wild and dreary.

The track led us over a region which had been shaped into hollows and undulations, caused by the action of numberless streams and rivulets which had cut their way in all directions. There were also many small depressions which contained pools of water. We observed in all these ponds numerous erratic boulders of various sizes. The majority of them were small, but others were of considerable magnitude, and must have weighed from fifteen to twenty tons. They were usually composed of red, green, and dark grey granites, similar to those I had seen on the surface of the country to the south-west of Lake Superior.

The boulders were usually standing detached on the ground near the edge of the water, but sometimes they were heaped together in a pile in the middle of the pond. Upon an examination of the positions of the strange aggregations of stones which had been moved from their original place in the north to this plateau, the impression was conveyed to the mind that these smaller boulders may have been dropped during the period when icebergs were floating over the land. It seemed to be probable that some of the icebergs were stranded, and had left on these spots the cargo they had carried away from higher latitudes.

Upon other parts of the level prairie where the land was dry, there were many isolated masses standing up in their places upon the surface, in the same manner as the Spirit rock near Mendota. It was remarkable that these boulders, which were often very large, were not embedded in the soil, but appeared to have remained in the positions in which they had been deposited. Some of the larger ponds contain quantities of wild aquatic plants, which yield a kind of rice—the same which was frequently mentioned by the French exploring missionaries in the seventeenth century—by the name of La Folle Avoine. This wild rice was gathered by the Dakotas and Chippewas, and stored by them for food in time of scarcity.

As we approached the boundaries of North Iowa, we found that the winter had set in earlier than usual, and the prairies were covered with several inches of snow. The aspect of the country, upon which the only marks of life were the footprints of animals, was exceedingly desolate. The horizon was sharply defined by the white edges of the land against the sky, and the curvature of the earth was thereby made distinct. The land seemed to fall away from the eye at a distance which looked very near. On plains of this perfectly level character in these latitudes, the actual true distance of the horizon—as seen by a person of average height standing upon the ground—would be about three miles; but in consequence of the conditions of light upon the surface of the snow, it appeared to be less, and the borders of the round line of horizon seemed to confine us within a small circle. This effect was particularly noticeable when the sun rose and touched the eastern parts of the curvature, the sky at that time in the morning being clear and cloudless.

The weather became daily more severe, and at last we had to encounter a hard gale of wind from the north-west. Suddenly one afternoon, a sweeping snow storm overtook us, and in a few hours all vestiges of the track were lost. Our position became perilous, as nothing could be seen which would help us in the slightest degree as a guide, and enable us to steer a straight course. The sky was gloomy and dark with snow clouds, and the prairie was as bare as the open sea.

The night was approaching, and matters were beginning to be serious, when the coach was stopped by striking against some concealed obstacle, and the horses swerved round. After gazing upon the fresh snow for a few seconds, the driver said that it was practically useless to attempt to follow the track, as it was impossible to make out its direction. It was evident that there was not the slightest reason for making any endeavours to follow one way more than any other, and we had the dangerous prospect before us of having to pass the night under circumstances of great hardship.

Fortunately it was suggested, that we might try the experiment of maintaining a line of progress by attending to the point from which the wind came. It had been observed that, when we were going along the straight track, the wind was upon the right hand, nearly abeam, and it was considered possible that if we could manage to keep it upon that bearing, we ought finally to arrive at our destination. The driver thought that this plan did not offer much prospect of success, on account of the scattered boulders and the rough nature of the country. He however decided to do what was proposed, and started forward. An unforeseen difficulty soon arose. The horses having no track before them to follow, kept constantly swerving to the left to avoid the wind, and it required much skill and energy to keep their heads pointed in the right direction.

The obstructions we had to encounter, caused us much anxiety, for we were exposed to a bitterly cold gale, and the storm blew against us with a severity that was unendurable. It was with no slight pleasure that, just before the night, we saw upon the verge of the horizon ahead, the lights of the town where we intended to stop. When we arrived there, it was found that the roads had become almost impassable, in consequence of the great depth of the snow that had fallen in a few hours.

As the prairies of Western Iowa had thus become a vast white table land, whose ground was hidden from view, I crossed the Missouri as soon as possible and proceeded to the interior of Nebraska where the storm had not taken place and the surface of the land was still in its autumnal condition. I stopped at various places in the valley of the river Platte and, at one of the newly formed settlements, obtained convenient quarters in the house of a man who had passed the greatest part of his life with the Pawnees, a tribe of Indians who have always been considered to hold an exceptional position with respect to their religious observances and language.

He had lived in the tents and was well acquainted with their habits of life, and like all other men whom I had met who had been much in contact with the Indians, occupying the country west of the Mississippi, he had been impressed by the reality of their personal faith in supernatural manifestations of power for good or evil.

I was much interested in ascertaining the existence of certain facts which seemed to show analogies between these Pawnees and the race who under the name of Toltecs or Aztecs had migrated from some unknown country into Mexico. It has not hitherto been explained how it happened that this tribe who, as far as is known, have always lived in this region, placed in the centre of the continent, should possess a language which is absolutely different from that of any other race of North American Indians, and that they should have been, for a long period of time, surrounded by powerful tribes with whom they could never have held any spoken communications. Mr. Albert Gallatin, a learned American ethnologist, draws attention to their singularly isolated position. He states that “they speak a language altogether different from that of the Sioux tribes or of any other Indians known to us.”[37]

They do not appear to have been a numerous race, for, when their territories were first explored, it was estimated that, including men, women and children, their numbers were under seven thousand. At the time that I passed through the ancient hunting grounds in Nebraska, their descendants (of whom there were said to be about three thousand) were gathered together in a reservation north of the Platte. I saw a few of them near the banks of that river, and some others who had committed a series of ferocious acts on the plains and had carried off several scalps. They were captured, imprisoned and condemned to death. These men were wild-looking savages who stalked restlessly round the cells in which they were confined like intractable and untameable animals. Those I saw wandering near the Platte had, for some unknown reason, dressed themselves in war paint. Their eyes were encircled by broad bands of red ochre. Their faces were covered with blue stripes which in their outlines resembled the tattoed lines of the Maoris in New Zealand.

The natural colour of the Pawnees I met was rather darker than the skins of the Sioux and Chippewas. The men were of more than the ordinary stature and were powerfully built. Their heads were broad and massive and all of them had remarkably high cheek bones.

The early explorers, sent by the Government towards the West, did not learn much about the superstitions of the native tribes, but it is mentioned in the Report of the Expedition to the Rocky Mountains in 1819–20 that the Pawnees, then living near the forks of the river Loup in the valley of the Platte, had originally a custom, which was believed to be annual but was no longer followed, of offering a human sacrifice to the Great Star.

The victim was always a prisoner that had been captured in war.

Mr. James, one of the members of the exploring party, stated that the star to which the sacrifice was made, was the planet Venus. It is probable therefore that this ceremony had some connection with the worship of the sun, as the Indians, who were accurate observers of all natural events, would have noticed that Venus, both as a morning and evening star, appeared to govern the movements of the greater light, and either announced its approach at dawn or followed its departure at sunset.

The Pawnees and the Dakotas are the only North American tribes known to have had the custom of killing human beings, for the purpose of presenting them to their gods as propitiations in time of distress, or as thanksgiving offerings after successful wars. The sacrifices made to their gods of war by the Aztecs were probably introduced into Mexico by that fierce race. The last human sacrifice offered by the Pawnees occurred in the year 1837, and in this case it is believed that the offering was made to the spirit who caused the land to produce fertile crops.

A young girl of fourteen years of age had been captured during a war with the Sioux, and it was decided that she was to be killed and sacrificed to this particular Manito. The strange character of the method of immolation arrests attention. The girl was carefully secured upon a framework made of light poles, raised a few feet above the ground. When she was in the right position for the sacrifice, a fire was kindled beneath, but before the flames had actually begun to touch her, and precisely at the moment when it was perceived that the fire was sufficiently strong to begin to burn her, she was suddenly killed by a flight of arrows.[38] She was then taken down from the scaffolding and the flesh was cut into small portions and taken away into the fields, where the blood was sprinkled over certain parts of the land which had been planted.

The fact of a sacrifice so important as that of a girl on the verge of womanhood being made to the god believed to have power over all matters relating to the growth of corn and other vegetable produce, proves that the Pawnees cultivated the earth to a greater extent than other tribes. Their neighbours, the Dakotas, were more exclusively a hunting race, and their human sacrifices, as far as has been ascertained by events that have happened within the past century, were usually made for the purpose of propitiation in the more solemn forms of Sun worship, or of appeasing the anger of evil spirits or demons when manifested by storms of lightning and thunder.

My host told me that during the time he had lived amongst the Pawnees he had not seen anything in their observances which led him to suppose that they had any kind of belief in a future state beyond this world, or in any absolutely over-ruling Power. The few ceremonies performed by them were apparently propitiations of the various supernatural Manitos who, they considered, had influence over them either individually or as a tribe. One of their most frequent practices consisted of offering incense to them in the form of tobacco smoke, and they invariably presented it in the same manner by throwing the first whiff upwards towards the sky, the next downwards to the ground and then to the right and left. He had also observed that when this act was finished, each Indian seemed to mutter some brief ejaculation or prayer.

With respect to their superstitions he thought that they were practically spiritualists, and believed in the presence of unknown and unseen influences below, above or around them, having each in their own separate degree powers of good or evil. He mentioned an event which had happened within his personal observation.

A Pawnee during a violent storm was injured by a flash of lightning. The tribe were convinced that this misfortune had been inflicted upon him as a direct punishment for some wrong deed he had committed, or that he had in some way, by his own conduct incurred the displeasure of the god of Lightning. As a consequence of this belief, he was avoided, and compelled to live apart, as a man placed under a curse or malignant influence.

These Pawnees had the reputation of being cruel to their prisoners, and in that respect had the same usages as the Iroquois who tortured the captives and then burnt them at the stake.[39] All North American tribes appear to have similar habits when their savage natures are aroused by bloodshed and war, but it is also acknowledged by those who have had an intimate knowledge of them, that under other and milder conditions, they possess qualities of an affectionate nature, which are shown in their domestic lives. An event occurred not far from the settlement which exemplified their attachment to their children.

The only child of a Pawnee and his wife died and was buried in a grave dug in the open prairie near a spot where a small band of Indians had temporarily erected their tents. In the grave with the child were placed all the things which had belonged to her, including her mocassin shoes, her plate and cup and her trinkets. Her father had in his possession a good set of sleigh bells, said to be worth seventeen dollars which he had intended to sell to one of the white men in the neighbourhood, but after the death of his daughter he said that he was happy because no one had yet bought his bells, for he was consequently able to give them to her, and they were put by the child’s side and buried. The father and mother then built round the grave a wooden fence to keep the wolves away, as the Pawnees were going to move their tents to a distant part of the country. This fence was shortly afterwards destroyed by a prairie fire, and the place of the grave is not now known.

These fires are becoming less frequent and, when they occur, are attributable to carelessness. I happened to see one of them sweeping over the plains near the river Missouri, my position at the time being at right angles to the line of its direction. A high wind was blowing from the South-west and the tall grass was bent over in such a manner that the flames instead of going with the wind towards the North-east, caught the tops of the grass and consequently travelled steadily to windward in the teeth of the gale. The smoke rolled away to leeward in dense clouds and the flames leapt upwards on tongues of fire to heights of twenty or thirty feet. The movement forward was like that of the rapidly advancing crest of a breaking wave. I estimated the length of the front of the fire to be nearly two miles.

When wandering over the wide Iowa and Nebraska plains, many problems present themselves to the mind with regard to their formation and existing condition. Of these, none are so perplexing to the farmers as those which relate to the absence of trees. Several theories have been mooted and many conclusions have been adopted, and thought to be rational, but as a rule they cannot be accepted as being altogether satisfactory. One of the most general opinions, is that the treeless state of the land has been caused by the destructive effects of fire. Another opinion is that which attributes the greatest counteracting influence to the nature of the soil.

One of the most careful investigators into this subject was the accomplished geologist Mr. J. W. Foster, whom I met at Chicago, and who was at that time President of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. He told me what had been the results of his work, and accompanied me to parts of the outlying Illinois prairies, to examine the character of the earth near the surface. He had, a short time previously, carried out a series of experiments relating to the physical geography of the Mississippi valley, and had given his attention to the composition of the upper formation of the prairies on both sides of the river.

He had arrived at the conclusion that the absence of trees upon them was not caused by fires or by the character of the ground, but was the consequence of the conditions of rainfall, temperature, climate, and exposure, all acting in a direction opposed to that natural order of things in which trees would be inclined to flourish.

On the way south from Mankato, I observed that the banks of the Des Moines river were thickly timbered, and that on the borders of the various rivulets which had cut their way through the ground to a considerable depth, there was usually a flourishing growth of trees, chiefly consisting of oak, black walnut, basswood, and maple varieties. In all these instances the trees were sheltered, but on the exposed prairie immediately adjacent the ground was bare, and without a vestige of any signs of trees or shrubs. In that particular region it seems therefore probable, that the exposure to gales of wind sweeping over the plateau, may be the principal cause of trees not being able to take root and live.

There are, however, other prairies equally bare of timber which are not so exposed. Upon those situated near the water shed or dividing ridge of the tributaries of the Missouri and Mississippi, it may be the quantities of water lying permanently within a few feet below the surface which prevent any growth taking place. No single theory seems to explain the facts, but from my own observation, I am inclined to think that the chief deterring influence is the nature of the soil.[40]

There is an unexplained problem respecting the growth of trees in certain parts of North America, which has received much local notice. My attention was directed to the subject when I was in the neighbourhood of Lake Simcoe in Upper Canada. An Englishman, who had established a homestead there and made clearings in the forests, told me he had observed that after the old trees had been felled, new shrubs and timber of an entirely different character grew up in their place. There was nothing in the nature of the surrounding woods which, to his mind, could account for the change, as there were no trees of the class that had taken root existing in that part of the country.

A similar alteration in the order of succession of forest growths was reported by the geologists employed by the Government in conducting the early surveys of Michigan. They stated that large tracts of land, originally covered with pines, had been succeeded by a second growth consisting of white birch, aspen, pine and hazel. In this case the primeval forest had been destroyed by high winds and afterwards burnt. It was supposed that where clearings had been made by fire, changes of the above nature occurred, but no suggestions were given as to the manner in which these new and strange growths established themselves.

Near Ishpeming, I saw that in all cases where forest openings had been made by the action of fire, luxuriant masses of dense raspberry bushes occupied the land; and it was said that where the woods were cut down by the axe bushes of another class, bearing different berries, sprang up and flourished.

In other parts of the North-west, variations in the succession of forest trees have been seen to occur; and usually there seems to be some connection between the type of the new plants and the methods by which the clearings have been made. As a general rule there are very few birds to carry seeds or pips from distant regions and therefore it is possible that in places where the ground has never for many centuries been previously disturbed and where the thick forest has been for the first time removed, and sunlight and fresh atmospheric conditions are admitted upon the land, new circumstances arise which are favourable to the development of dormant life.[41]

Before leaving the valley of the Platte I made several excursions on the plains for the purpose of examining two of the most extensive of those singular groups of mounds which have been called prairie-dog villages. The largest of them was situated about two hundred miles west of the Missouri and three miles north of the Platte. It occupied a space exceeding fifty acres, which was covered by the rounded heaps of earth and pebbles thrown up by the little marmots when excavating their burrows. These creatures, when they are sitting on the tops of their mounds in a watchful attitude keeping a sharp look out around them and holding their paws before them, resemble a colony of ground squirrels. When I was at a certain distance from them they maintained continuous and defiant sounds like the shrill yelps of puppies, but upon a nearer approach they suddenly disappeared down their holes.

The existence of these isolated groups of burrowing animals, dwelling together in communities, was made the subject of observation by the expeditions sent by the United States Government to explore these regions, and it was reported that it was not unusual to find rattlesnakes living in the same holes as the prairie dogs. Captain Stansfield, the leader of one of these exploring parties, stated that the holes were generally guarded by a rattlesnake, and that when the hand was about to be thrust into the hole to draw out the prairie dog which had been shot at, but had got into its burrow, the ominous rattle of the reptile was heard within.

Twenty years had elapsed since that time, and many changes had taken place in the conditions of animal life upon these plains. I thrust my stick down various holes but there were no rattlesnakes in them. I afterwards heard that in these districts the reptiles, which had been so numerous, had disappeared. Another group of these village communities which I examined was placed to the south of the Platte. Although it covered a comparatively small area it was more fully tenanted and the dwellings were closer together, each mound almost touching its neighbour. One of the young occupiers of this village had been captured and tamed by a squatter living near the settlement in which I was then stopping. As it rarely happens that the habits of these marmots can be regularly observed, this creature’s actions were noticed with great curiosity.

It was the daily habit of this prairie dog to sit for hours upon its haunches, with its fore-paws held steadily in front of him, continuously maintaining a careful watch upon everything that was happening. I observed that although the method of sitting was that of the squirrel tribe, the shape and appearance of the body was of a different type, and like that of a large guinea-pig. The most attractive point about the little animal was its keen manner of keeping guard like a sentinel. Nothing seemed to escape its vigilance.

When the fact of rattlesnakes living in the same holes as the prairie dogs was originally made known, there were several theories advanced upon the subject; but, in the absence of any direct evidence as to the nature of the apparent alliance or friendship, nothing could be positively proved. It was however subsequently discovered that young marmots were occasionally found inside the bodies of rattlesnakes which had been killed near the mounds. It is therefore probable that the reptiles used the burrows for their winter residences, after having expelled the previous inhabitants.

Nothing is more surprising than the effect of the movement of civilisation westwards upon the number of the animals who were accustomed to exist upon the prairies. The explorers who passed through these waste lands in the beginning of the nineteenth century, reported that the surface of the country, especially near the river Platte, was often blackened by immense herds of bisons. Fifty years later when I went over the same ground no buffaloes were to be seen there, and they no longer frequented that part of Nebraska. The rattlesnakes have also almost disappeared in consequence of the introduction of animals that were hostile to them.[42]

The manner by which this destruction of the snake tribe has been carried out, was brought to my notice when I was crossing Lake Erie. Near the west shores of the lake there were several islands which had been infested with reptiles to such an extent as to make it dangerous for men to land upon them. A resident who had lived for many years upon the adjacent shore, and who happened to be on board the steamer when we passed near one of the largest of the islands, told me that in order to clear the ground a large number of hogs were landed upon it, and within a short time the island was made perfectly safe. It was observed that they rushed immediately forward and when close to the snakes they dropped upon their knees and commenced to devour them with the greatest avidity. The darting of the fangs upon them did not seem to have the slightest injurious effect. It is therefore probable that this strange invulnerability of the hog is due to the thickness of its hide, and the close stiff bristles which prevent the penetration of the poison.

On the prairies, the explorers mention their having seen, besides buffaloes, deer, hares, wolves, eagles, buzzards and ravens. I saw several herds of antelopes and a few wolves: one of them belonging to the coyote species was observed in the evening to be prowling round the huts of settlers at the forks of the Platte. It was caught and forthwith dispatched. It was a good sized wolf with a thick coat of shaggy iron-grey hair and looked fierce and savage. On the banks of the southern branch of the river near this spot I joined an American companion in an expedition to look for prairie grouse. We found them amongst the brushwood in considerable numbers, but the birds were wild and it was difficult to get within range of them. The Platte at this part was nearly three thousand feet above the sea.

On the desert, at a height of seven thousand feet, I saw antelopes grazing upon the prairie grass which was growing abundantly and afforded ample supplies of food for them. Wolves were also on these plains skulking in the vicinity doubtless hoping to appease their hunger before many hours had elapsed. These wide and lofty table lands were the ancient hunting grounds of the Dakotas and Cheyennes.

It was getting late upon a fine winter’s evening when our coach crossed the brow of a hill and we caught sight of the calm blue waters of the Great Salt Lake surrounded by snow-covered mountains. It was a quiet scene of singular beauty. The skies were brilliant with the glowing effects caused by the rays of the declining sun. It was nearly dark when we arrived at the City of the Mormons and our horses were pulled up at the door of an attractive little inn which Brigham Young had provided for the accommodation of strangers.

After quitting the prosperous lands of Utah on my way to California I stopped in the centre of that part of the American desert situated near the borders of Oregon and bounded on the west by the ranges of the Sierra Nevada. It was my object to visit a tribe of Shoshones who were then encamped in the neighbourhood. I found them dwelling on a dreary and exposed plateau in the midst of a region covered with small black volcanic stones and fragments (or flakes) of obsidian, with which an old arrow head maker was busily engaged fashioning the rude weapons required by the tribe. It was the middle of December. The winter was cold, and the country around looked bleak and desolate.

The Indians were in wigwams made of saplings or withies, bent over in such a manner as to form the shape of a semi-circle or a low rounded beehive. They resembled, in their construction and size, the temporary huts used by wandering bands of Chippewas upon the shores of Lake Superior. The interiors of these rude and miserable lodges were not inviting. Squalor, dirt and gloom were present to the eye, and influenced the mind.

The men differed to some extent from all other Indians that I had seen, and were in appearance like the Asiatics in the southern Provinces of China, and had not the massive heads and aquiline features of the Dakotas or Pawnees; they were also of a more debased type. This, however, may have been the result of many centuries of struggles against starvation and exposure to the severe weather that must be experienced in the deserts upon which they wander. Outside the main part of the encampment there was a small group of wigwams, which I found to be occupied by Utes, a tribe even more degraded and wretched than the Shoshones.

The Utes, or Digger Indians, have always been considered to be the lowest in civilization of all the American tribes. It has been thought that they may be the descendants of outcasts, but this opinion does not seem to be based upon sufficient evidence. There are good reasons for believing that they are allied in race and language with the Shoshones, and they are apparently treated by them on terms of friendship and equality.

The Diggers have been given that name in consequence of it being their custom to live chiefly upon roots, or whatever other food they can obtain by digging. They also find a scanty support from grass, seeds and locusts. They have been occasionally met wandering in Utah in a naked and half-starved condition. It is not possible to imagine human beings to be in a lower or more harsh state of existence. Misery and want do not however appear to influence the natural buoyancy and cheerfulness of these nomads. Possibly their freedom, the constant occupation of searching the hills and deserts for subsistence, and their unconstrained life, give them compensation for the hardships that they are forced to endure.

There is only one other race that I have seen living under similar conditions of continuous want and wretchedness, with whom the struggles for bare existence are equally severe.

That unfortunate people are the Fuegians, who wander in search of food upon the rugged coasts of Tierra del Fuego.

When passing through the Straits of Magellan in H.M.S. Pearl in January, 1877, we saw several families of the natives in Churruca Bay occupying wretched wigwams, placed close to the water’s edge.

Some of them embarked in their canoes and came alongside to ask for food and tobacco. They appeared to be in a half-starved and emaciated state, and were sustaining life upon mussel and edible roots. The medical officers of the ship measured the men, as I wished to ascertain their size and weight as compared with the Patagonians dwelling upon the opposite shores of the Straits. It was found that the height of these Fuegians was between four feet nine inches and five feet two inches. The average stature was under five feet. The measurements round the chest were comparatively large, being thirty-four to thirty-five inches.

We afterwards anchored in Gregory Bay, Patagonia. As soon as we were observed, a numerous tribe of Patagonians rode down to the beach, and pitched their tents opposite the ship. Several of the chiefs came on board and subsequently allowed themselves to be weighed and measured.

It was ascertained that their average height was five feet eleven inches, and their chest measurements averaged forty-four inches. Their weights averaged two hundred and thirty-two pounds.

The contrast in the physical condition between the Patagonians and Fuegians is extraordinary when it is considered that only a narrow channel of water, easily traversed by canoes, separates them. It is probable that the Utes, Shoshones and Fuegians may have been forced by adverse circumstances to retreat to the inhospitable regions in which they live. No race would willingly accept or undergo such unchangeable hardships.