Chapter V

Bahia Blanca—Geology—Extinct quadrupeds, four Edentata, horse, ctenomys—Recent extinction—Longevity of species—Large animals do not require luxuriant vegetation—Southern Africa—Siberian fossils—Catalogue of extinct quadrupeds in South America—Two species of Ostrich, habits of—Tinochorus—Oven-bird—Armadilloes—Venomous snake, toad, lizard—Hybernation of animals—Habits of sea-pen—Indian wars and massacres—Arrow-head, antiquarian relic.

BAHIA BLANCA.

The Beagle arrived on the 24th of August, and a week afterwards sailed for the Plata. With Captain FitzRoy’s consent I was left behind, to travel by land to Buenos Ayres. I will here add some observations, which were made during this visit, and on a previous occasion, when the Beagle was employed in surveying the harbour. Not much can be made out respecting the geology. At the distance of some miles inland, an escarpment of a great argillaceo-calcareous formation of rock extends. The space near the coast consists of plains of hardened mud, and broad bands of sand-dunes, which present appearances, that can easily be accounted for by a rise of the land; and of this phenomenon,⁠[1] although to a trifling amount, we have other proofs.

At Punta Alta, a low cliff, about twenty feet high, exposes a mass of partly consolidated shingle, irregularly interstratified with a reddish muddy clay, and containing numerous recent shells. We may believe a similar accumulation would now take place, on any point, where tides and waves were opposed. In the gravel a considerable number of bones were embedded. Mr. Owen, who has undertaken the description of these remains, has not yet examined them with care; but the following list may give some idea of their nature: 1st, a tolerably perfect head of a megatherium, and a fragment and teeth of two others; 2d, an animal of the order Edentata, as large as a pony, and with great scratching claws; 3d and 4th, two great Edentata related to the megatherium, and both fully as large as an ox or horse; 5th, another equally large animal, closely allied or perhaps identical with the Toxodon (hereafter to be described), which had very flat grinding teeth, somewhat resembling those of a rodent; 6th, a large piece of the tesselated covering like that of the armadillo, but of gigantic size; 7th, a tusk which in its prismatic form, and in the disposition of the enamel, closely resembles that of the African boar; it is probable that it belonged to the same animal with the singular flat grinders. Lastly, a tooth in the same state of decay with the others: its broken condition does not allow Mr. Owen, without further comparison, to come to any definite conclusion; but the part that is perfect, resembles in every respect the tooth of the common horse.⁠[2] All these remains were found embedded in a beach which is covered at spring tides; and the space in which they were collected could not have exceeded one hundred and fifty yards square. It is a remarkable circumstance that so many different species should be found together; and it proves how numerous in kind the ancient inhabitants of this country must have been.

At the distance of about thirty miles, in another cliff of red earth, I found several fragments of bones. Among them were the teeth of a rodent, much narrower, but even larger than those of the Hydrochœrus capybara; the animal which has been mentioned as exceeding in dimensions every existing member of its order. There was also part of the head of a Ctenomys; the species being different from the Tucutuco, but with a close general resemblance.

The remains at Punta Alta were associated, as before remarked, with shells of existing species. These have not as yet been examined with scrupulous care, but it may be safely asserted, that they are most closely similar to the species now living in the same bay: it is also very remarkable, that not only the species, but the proportional numbers of each kind, are nearly the same with those now cast up on the pebble beaches. There are eleven marine species (some in an imperfect state), and one terrestrial. If I had not collected living specimens from the same bay, some of the fossils would have been thought extinct; for Mr. Sowerby, who was kind enough to look at my collection, had not previously seen them. We may feel certain that the bones have not been washed out of an older formation, and embedded in a more recent one, because the remains of one of the Edentata were lying in their proper relative position (and partly so in a second case); which could not have happened, without the carcass had been washed to the spot where the skeleton is now entombed.

We here have a strong confirmation of the remarkable law so often insisted on by Mr. Lyell, namely, that the “longevity of the species in the mammalia, is upon the whole inferior to that of the testacea.”⁠[3] When we proceed to the southern part of Patagonia, I shall have occasion to describe the case of an extinct camel, from which the same result may be deduced.

From the shells being littoral species (including one terrestrial), and from the character of the deposit, we may feel absolutely certain that the remains were embedded in a shallow sea, not far from the coast. From the position of the skeleton being undisturbed, and likewise from the fact that full-grown serpulæ were attached to some of the bones, we know that the mass could not have been accumulated on the beach itself. At the present time, part of the bed is daily washed by the tide, while another part has been raised a few feet above the level of the sea. Hence we may infer, that the elevation has here been trifling, since the period when the mammalia, now extinct, were living. This conclusion is in harmony with several other considerations (such as the recent character of the beds underlying the Pampas deposit), but which I have not space in this work to enter on.

From the general structure of the coast of this part of South America, we are compelled to believe, that the changes of level have all (at least of late) been in one direction, and that they have been very gradual. If, then, we look back to the period when these quadrupeds lived, the land probably stood at a level, less elevated only by a few fathoms than at present. Therefore, its general configuration since that epoch cannot have been greatly modified; a conclusion which certainly would be drawn from the close similarity in every respect, between the shells now living in the bay (as well as in the case of the one terrestrial species) with those which formerly lived there.

The surrounding country, as may have been gathered from this journal, is of a very desert character. Trees nowhere occur, and only a few bushes, which are chiefly confined to depressions among the sand-hillocks, or to the borders of the saline marshes. Here, then, is an apparent difficulty: we have the strongest evidence that there has occurred no great physical change to modify the features of the country, yet in former days, numerous large animals were supported on the plains now covered by a thin and scanty vegetation.

That large animals require a luxuriant vegetation, has been a general assumption, which has passed from one work to another. I do not hesitate, however, to say that it is completely false; and that it has vitiated the reasoning of geologists, on some points of great interest in the ancient history of the world. The prejudice has probably been derived from India, and the Indian islands, where troops of elephants, noble forests, and impenetrable jungles, are associated together in every account. If, on the other hand, we refer to any work of travels through the southern parts of Africa, we shall find allusions in almost every page either to the desert character of the country, or to the numbers of large animals inhabiting it. The same thing is rendered evident by the many sketches which have been published of various parts of the interior. When the Beagle was at Cape Town, I rode a few leagues into the country, which at least was sufficient to render that which I had read more fully intelligible.

Dr. Andrew Smith, who, at the head of his adventurous party, has so lately succeeded in passing the Tropic of Capricorn, informs me that, taking into consideration the whole of the southern part of Africa, there can be no doubt of its being sterile country. On the southern and south-eastern coasts there are some fine forests, but with these exceptions, the traveller may pass, for days together, through open plains, covered by a poor and scanty vegetation. It is difficult to convey any accurate idea of degrees of comparative fertility; but it may be safely said, that the amount of vegetation supported at any one time⁠[4] by Great Britain, exceeds, perhaps even tenfold, the quantity on an equal area, in the interior parts of Southern Africa. The fact that bullock-waggons can travel in any direction, excepting near the coast, without more than occasionally half an hour’s delay, gives, perhaps, a more definite notion of its scantiness. Now if we look to the animals inhabiting these wide plains, we shall find their numbers extraordinarily great, and their bulk immense. We must enumerate the elephant, three species of rhinoceros, and as Dr. Smith is convinced two others also, the hippopotamus, giraffe, the bos caffer—as large as a full-grown bull, and the elan—but little less, two zebras, and the quaccha, two gnus, and several antelopes even larger than these latter animals. It may be supposed that although the species are numerous, the individuals of each kind are few. By the kindness of Dr. Smith, I am enabled to show that the case is very different. He informs me, that in lat. 24°, in one day’s march with the bullock-waggons, he saw, without wandering to any great distance on either side, between one hundred and one hundred and fifty rhinoceroses, which belonged to three species. That the same day he saw several herds of giraffes, amounting together to nearly a hundred; and that, although no elephant was observed, yet they are found in this district. At the distance of a little more than one hour’s march from their place of encampment on the previous night, his party actually killed at one spot eight hippopotamoses, and saw many more. In this same river there were likewise crocodiles. Of course it was a case quite extraordinary, to see so many great animals crowded together, but it evidently proves that they must exist in great numbers. Dr. Smith describes the country passed through that day, as “being thinly covered with grass, and bushes about four feet high, and still more thinly with mimosa-trees.” The waggons were not prevented travelling in a nearly direct line.

Besides these large animals, every one the least acquainted with the natural history of the Cape, has read of the herds of antelopes, which can be compared only to flocks of migratory birds. The numbers indeed of the lion,⁠[5] panther, and hyæna, and the multitude of birds of prey, plainly tell of the abundance of the smaller quadrupeds. As Dr. Smith remarked to me, the carnage each day in Southern Africa must indeed be terrific! I confess it is truly surprising, how such a number of animals can find support in a country producing so little food. The larger quadrupeds no doubt roam over wide extents in search of it; and their food chiefly consists of underwood, which probably contains much nutriment in a small bulk. Dr. Smith also informs me that the vegetation has a rapid growth; no sooner is a part consumed, than its place is supplied by a fresh stock. I apprehend, however, that our ideas respecting the quantity necessary for the support of large quadrupeds are exaggerated. It should have been remembered that the camel, an animal of no mean bulk, has always been considered as the emblem of the desert.

The belief that where large quadrupeds exist, the vegetation must necessarily be luxuriant, is the more remarkable, because the converse is far from true. Mr. Burchell observed to me that when entering Brazil, nothing struck him more forcibly than the splendour of the South American vegetation, contrasted with that of South Africa, together with the absence of all large quadrupeds. In his Travels,⁠[6] he has suggested that the comparison of the respective weights (if there were sufficient data) of an equal number of the largest herbivorous quadrupeds of each country would be extremely curious. If we take on the one side the elephant,⁠[7] hippopotamus, giraffe, bos caffer, elan, certainly three species of rhinoceros, and probably five; and on the other side, two tapirs, the guanaco, three deer, the vicuna, peccari, capybara (after which we must choose from the monkeys to complete the number), and then place these two groups alongside each other, it is not easy to conceive ranks more disproportionate. After the above facts, we are compelled to conclude, against anterior probability,⁠[8] that among the mammalia there exists no close relation between the bulk of the species, and the quantity of the vegetation, in the countries they inhabit.

With regard to the number of large quadrupeds, there certainly exists no quarter of the globe which will bear comparison with Southern Africa. After the different statements which have been given, the extremely desert character of that region will not be disputed. In the European division of the world, we must look back to the tertiary epochs, to find a condition of things among the mammalia resembling that which is now found at the Cape of Good Hope. That tertiary epoch, which we are apt to consider as abounding to an astonishing degree with large animals, because we find the remains of many ages accumulated at certain spots, could boast of but few more of the large quadrupeds, than Southern Africa does at present. If we speculate on the condition of the vegetation during that epoch, we are at least bound so far to consider existing analogies, as not to urge as absolutely necessary a luxuriant vegetation, when we see a state of things so totally different in the region to which we refer.

We know⁠[9] that the extreme regions of North America, many degrees beyond the limit where the ground at the depth of a few feet remains perpetually congealed, are covered by forests of large and tall trees. In a like manner, in Siberia, we have woods of birch, fir, aspen, and larch, growing in a latitude⁠[10] (64°), where the mean temperature of the air falls below the freezing point, and where the earth is so completely frozen, that the carcass of an animal embedded in it is perfectly preserved. With these facts we must grant, as far as quantity alone of vegetation is concerned, that the great quadrupeds of the later tertiary epochs might, in most parts of Northern Europe and Asia, have lived on the spots where their remains are now found. I do not here speak of the kind of vegetation necessary for their support; because, as there is evidence of physical changes, and as the animals have become extinct, so may we suppose that the species of plants have likewise been changed.

These remarks directly bear on the case of the Siberian animals preserved in ice. The firm conviction of the necessity of a vegetation, possessing a character of tropical luxuriance, to support such large animals, and the impossibility of reconciling this with the proximity of perpetual congelation, was one chief cause of the several theories of sudden revolutions of climate, and of overwhelming catastrophes, which were invented to account for their entombment. I am far from supposing that the climate has not changed since the period when those animals lived, which now lie buried in the ice. At present I only wish to show, that as far as quantity of food alone is concerned, the ancient rhinoceroses might have roamed over the steppes of central Siberia (the northern parts probably being under water) even in their present condition, as well as the living rhinoceroses and elephants over the Karros of Southern Africa.

After our long digression, if we return to the case of the fossil animals at Bahia Blanca, there is a difficulty from our not knowing on what food the great Edentata probably lived. If on insects and larvæ, like their nearest representatives the armadilloes and anteaters, there is an end to all conjecture. But as vegetation is the first source of life in every part of the world, I think we may safely conclude that the country around Bahia Blanca, with a very little increase of fertility, would support large animals. The plains of the Rio Negro, thickly scattered over with thorny bushes, I do not doubt would supply sufficient food equally well with the Karros of Africa. As there is evidence of a physical change to a small amount, so may we allow it to be probable that the productiveness of the soil has decreased in an equally small degree. With this concession I apprehend every difficulty is removed. On the other hand, if we imagine a luxuriant vegetation to be necessary for the support of these animals, we become involved in a series of contradictions and improbabilities.

As the notices of the remains of several quadrupeds, which I discovered in South America, are scattered in different parts of this volume, I will here give a catalogue of them. After having enlarged on the diminutive size of the present races, it may be of interest to see that formerly a very different order of things prevailed. First, the megatherium, and the four or five other large edentata, already alluded to; 6th, an immense mastodon, which must have abounded over the whole country; 7th; the horse (I do not now refer to the broken tooth at Bahia Blanca, but to more certain evidence); 8th, the toxodon, an extraordinary animal as large as a hippopotamus; 9th, a fragment of the head of an animal larger than a horse, and of a very singular character; 10th, 11th, and 12th, parts of rodents—one of considerable size; lastly, a llama or guanaco, fully as large as the camel. All these animals coexisted during an epoch which, geologically speaking is so recent, that it may be considered as only just gone by. These remains have been presented to the College of Surgeons, where they are now in the hands of those best qualified to appreciate whatever value they may possess.

I will now give an account of the habits of some of the more interesting birds, which are common on these wild plains; and first of the Struthio Rhea, or South American ostrich. This bird is well known to abound over the plains of Northern Patagonia; and the united provinces of La Plata. It has not crossed the Cordillera; but I have seen it within the first range of mountains on the Uspallata plain, elevated between six and seven thousand feet. The ordinary habits of the ostrich are familiar to every one. They feed on vegetable matter; such as roots and grass; but at Bahia Blanca, I have repeatedly seen three or four come down at low water to the extensive mud-banks which are then dry, for the sake, as the Gauchos say, of catching small fish. Although the ostrich in its habits is so shy, wary, and solitary, and although so fleet in its pace, it falls a prey, without much difficulty, to the Indian or Gaucho armed with the bolas. When several horsemen appear in a semicircle, it becomes confounded, and does not know which way to escape. They generally prefer running against the wind; yet at the first start they expand their wings, and like a vessel make all sail. On one fine hot day I saw several ostriches enter a bed of tall rushes, where they squatted concealed, till quite closely approached. It is not generally known that ostriches readily take to the water. Mr. King informs me that at the Bay of San Blas, and at Port Valdes in Patagonia, he saw these birds swimming several times from island to island. They ran into the water both when driven down to a point, and likewise of their own accord when not frightened: the distance crossed was about 200 yards. When swimming, very little of their bodies appear above water, and their necks are extended a little forward: their progress is slow. On two occasions, I saw some ostriches swimming across the Santa Cruz river, where its course was about four hundred yards wide, and the stream rapid. Captain Sturt, when descending the Murrumbidgee, in Australia, saw two emus in the act of swimming.

The inhabitants who live in the country readily distinguish, even at a distance, the cock bird from the hen. The former is larger and darker-coloured,⁠[11] and has a bigger head. The ostrich, I believe the cock, emits a singular deep-toned, hissing note. When first I heard it, standing in the midst of some sand-hillocks, I thought it was made by some wild beast, for it is a sound that one cannot tell whence it comes, or from how far distant. When we were at Bahia Blanca in the months of September and October, the eggs, in extraordinary numbers, were found all over the country. They either lie scattered single, in which case they are never hatched, and are called by the Spaniards, huachos; or they are collected together into a shallow excavation, which forms the nest. Out of the four nests which I saw, three contained twenty-two eggs each, and the fourth twenty-seven. In one day’s hunting on horseback sixty-four eggs were found; forty-four of these were in two nests, and the remaining twenty scattered huachos. The Gauchos unanimously affirm, and there is no reason to doubt their statement, that the male bird alone hatches the eggs, and for some time afterwards accompanies the young. The cock when on the nest lies very close; I have myself almost ridden over one. It is asserted that at such times they are occasionally fierce, and even dangerous, and that they have been known to attack a man on horseback, trying to kick and leap on him. My informer pointed out to me an old man, whom he had seen much terrified by one chasing him. I observe in Burchell’s travels in South Africa, that he remarks, “having killed a male ostrich, and the feathers being dirty, it was said by the Hottentots to be a nest bird.” I understand that the male emu, in the Zoological Garden, takes charge of the nest: this habit, therefore, is common to the family.

The Gauchos unanimously affirm that several females lay in one nest. I have been positively told, that four or five hen birds have been seen to go, in the middle of the day, one after the other, to the same nest. I may add, also, that it is believed in Africa, that two females lay in one nest.⁠[12] Although this habit at first appears very strange, I think the cause may be explained in a simple manner. The number of eggs in the nest varies from twenty to forty, and even to fifty; and according to Azara to seventy or eighty. Now although it is most probable, from the number of eggs found in one district being so extraordinarily great, in proportion to that of the parent birds, and likewise from the state of the ovarium of the hen, that she may in the course of the season lay a large number, yet the time required must be very long. Azara states,⁠[13] that a female in a state of domestication laid seventeen eggs, each at the interval of three days one from another. If the hen were obliged to hatch her own eggs, before the last was laid the first probably would be addled; but if each laid a few eggs at successive periods, in different nests, and several hens, as is stated to be the case, combined together, then the eggs in one collection would be nearly of the same age. If the number of eggs in one of these nests is, as I believe, not greater on an average than the number laid by one female in the season, then there must be as many nests as females, and each cock bird will have its fair share of the labour of incubation; and that during a period when the females could not sit, on account of not having finished laying. I have before mentioned the great numbers of huachos, or scattered eggs; so that in one day’s hunting the third part were found in this state. It appears odd that so many should be wasted. Does it not arise from the difficulty of several females associating together, and persuading an old cock to undertake the office of incubation? It is evident that there must at first be some degree of association, between at least two females; otherwise the eggs would remain scattered over the wide plains, at distances far too great to allow of the male collecting them into one nest. Some have believed that the scattered eggs were deposited for the young birds to feed on. This can hardly be the case in America, because the huachos, although oftentimes found addled and putrid, are generally whole.

When at the Rio Negro, in Northern Patagonia, I repeatedly heard the Gauchos talking of a very rare bird which they called Avestruz Petise. They described it as being less than the common ostrich (which is there abundant), but with a very close general resemblance. They said its colour was dark and mottled, and that its legs were shorter, and feathered lower down than those of the common ostrich. It is more easily caught by the bolas than the other species. The few inhabitants who had seen both kinds, affirmed they could distinguish them apart from a long distance. The eggs of the small species appeared, however, more generally known; and it was remarked, with surprise, that they were very little less than those of the Rhea, but of a slightly different form, and with a tinge of pale blue. Some eggs, picked up on the plains of Patagonia, agree pretty well with this description, and I do not doubt are those of the Petise. This species occurs most rarely on the plains bordering the Rio Negro; but about a degree and a half further south they are tolerably abundant. One Gaucho, however, said he distinctly recollected having seen one, many years before, near the mouth of the Rio Colorado, which is to the north of the Rio Negro. They are said to prefer the plains near the sea. When at Port Desire, in Patagonia (lat. 48°), Mr. Martens shot an ostrich; and I looked at it, forgetting at the moment, in the most unaccountable manner, the whole subject of the Petises, and thought it was a two-third grown one of the common sort. The bird was cooked and eaten before my memory returned. Fortunately the head, neck, legs, wings, many of the larger feathers, and a large part of the skin, had been preserved. From these a very nearly perfect specimen has been put together, and is now exhibited in the museum of the Zoological Society. Mr. Gould, who in describing this new species did me the honour of calling it after my name, states, that besides the smaller size and different colour of the plumage, the beak is of considerably less proportional dimensions than in the common Rhea; that the tarsi are covered with differently-shaped scales, and that they are feathered six inches beneath the knee. In this latter respect, and in the broader feathers of the wing, this bird perhaps shows more affinity to the gallinaceous family than any other of the Struthionidæ.

Among the Patagonian Indians in the Strait of Magellan, we found a half Indian, who had lived some years with the tribe, but had been born in the northern provinces. I asked him if he had ever heard of the Avestruz Petise? He answered by saying, “Why there are none others in these southern countries.” He informed me that the number of eggs in the nest of the petise is considerably less than with the other kind, namely, not more than fifteen on an average; but he asserted that more than one female deposited them. At Santa Cruz we saw several of these birds. They were excessively wary: I think they could see a person approaching when he was so far off as not to distinguish the ostrich. In ascending the river few were seen; but in our quiet and rapid descent, many, in pairs and by fours or fives, were observed. It was remarked, and I think with truth, that this bird did not expand its wings, when first starting at full speed, after the manner of the northern kind. The fact of these ostriches swimming across the river has been mentioned. In conclusion, I may repeat that the Struthio Rhea inhabits the country of La Plata as far as a little south of the Rio Negro, in lat. 41°, and that the petise takes its place in Southern Patagonia; the part about the Rio Negro being neutral territory. Wallis saw ostriches at Batchelor’s river (lat. 53° 54′), in the Strait of Magellan, which must be the extreme southern possible range of the petise. M. D’Orbigny, when at the Rio Negro, made great exertions to procure this bird, but never had the good fortune to succeed. He mentions it in his Travels,⁠[14] and proposes (in case, I presume, of a specimen being obtained) to call it Rhea pennata: a fuller notice was given long before in Dobrizhoffer’s Account of the Abipones⁠[15] (A.D. 1749). He says, “You must know, moreover, that Emus differ in size and habits in different tracts of land; for those that inhabit the plains of Buenos Ayres and Tucuman are larger, and have black, white, and gray feathers; those near to the Strait of Magellan are smaller and more beautiful, for their white feathers are tipped with black at the extremity, and their black ones in like manner terminate in white.”

A very singular little bird, lately described by St. Hilaire and Lesson under the name of Tinochorus Eschscholtzii, is here common. In its habits, general appearance, and structure, it nearly equally partakes of the character of a quail and a snipe. Yet these two birds are widely contrasted in the form of their beaks, wings, and legs. The Tinochorus is found in the whole of southern South America, wherever there are sterile plains, or open dry pasture-land. We saw it as far south as the inland plains of Patagonia at Santa Cruz, in lat. 50°. On the western side of the Cordillera near Concepcion, where the forest land changes into an open country, this bird is found: from that point throughout Chile, as far as Copiapó, it frequents the most desolate places, where scarcely another living creature can exist. They are found either in pairs or small flocks of five or six; but near the Sierra Ventana I saw as many as thirty or forty together. Upon being approached they squat close, and then are very difficult to be distinguished; so that they often rise quite unexpectedly. When feeding they walk rather slowly, with their legs wide apart. They dust themselves in roads and sandy places. They frequent particular spots, and may be found there day after day. When a pair are together, if one is shot the other seldom rises; for these birds, like partridges, only take wing in a flock. In all these respects, in the muscular gizzard adapted for vegetable food, in the arched beak and fleshy nostrils, short legs and form of foot, the Tinochorus has a close affinity with quails. But directly the bird is seen flying, one’s opinion is changed; the long, pointed wings, so different from those in the gallinaceous order, the irregular manner of flight, and plaintive cry uttered at the moment of rising, recall the idea of a snipe. The sportsmen of the Beagle unanimously called it the shortbilled snipe. To this genus, or rather to that of the sandpiper, it approaches, as Mr. Gould informs me, in the shape of its wing, the length of the scapulars, the form of the tail, which closely resembles that of Tringa hypoleucos, and in the general colour of the plumage. The male bird, however, has a black mark on its breast, in the form of a yoke, which may be compared to the horseshoe on the breast of the English partridge. The nest is said to be placed on the borders of lakes, although the bird itself is an inhabitant of the parched desert.

The Tinochorus is closely related to some other South American birds. Two species of the genus Attagis, are in almost every respect ptarmigans in their habits; one in Tierra del Fuego, above the limits of forest land; the other just beneath the snow-line on the Cordillera of Central Chile. A bird of another closely-allied genus, Chionis alba, which solitary species was long thought to form a family by itself, is an inhabitant of the antarctic regions; it feeds on sea-weed and shells on the tidal rocks. Although not web-footed, from some unaccountable taste it is frequently met with far out at sea. This small family of birds is one of those which, from its varied relations, although at present offering only difficulties to the systematic naturalist, ultimately may assist in revealing the grand scheme, common to the present and past ages, on which organized beings have been created.

I may also briefly notice the genus Furnarius. It contains several species, all small birds, living on the ground, and inhabiting open, dry countries. In structure they cannot be compared to any European form. Ornithologists have generally included them among the creepers, although opposed to that family in every habit. The best known species is the common oven-bird of La Plata, the Casara or house-maker of the Spaniards, and Furnarius rufus of Viell. The nest, whence it takes its name, is placed in the most exposed situations, as on the top of a post, a bare rock, or on a cactus. It is composed of mud and bits of straw, and has strong thick walls: in shape it precisely resembles an oven, or depressed beehive. The opening is large and arched, and directly in front, within the nest, there is a partition, which reaches nearly to the roof, thus forming a passage or antechamber to the true nest.

Another and smaller species of Furnarius, something like a lark in appearance, resembles the oven-bird in many points, as in the general reddish tint of its plumage, a peculiar shrill reiterated cry, an odd manner of running by starts, &c. From its affinity, the Spaniards call it Casarita (or little housebuilder), although its nidification is quite different. The Casarita builds its nest at the bottom of a narrow cylindrical hole, which is said to extend horizontally to nearly six feet under ground. Several of the country people told me, that when boys they had attempted to dig out the nest, but had scarcely ever succeeded in getting to the end. The bird chooses any low bank of firm sandy soil by the side of a road or stream. Here (at Bahia Blanca) the walls are built of hardened mud; and I noticed that one, which enclosed a courtyard where I lodged, was penetrated by round holes in a score of places. On asking the owner the cause of this, he bitterly complained of the little casarita, several of which I afterwards observed at work. It is rather curious, that although they were constantly flitting over the low wall, they must be quite incapable of gaining an idea of thickness even after the shortest circuitous route, for otherwise they would not have made so many vain attempts. I do not doubt that each bird, as often as it came to daylight on the opposite side, was greatly surprised at the marvellous fact.

I have already mentioned nearly all the mammalia common in this country. Of armadilloes three species occur, namely, the Dasypus minutus or pichy, the Villosus or peludo, and the apar. The first extends as far south as lat. 50°, which is about ten degrees further than any other kind. A fourth species, the Mulita, only extends as far south as the Sierra Tapalguen, lat. 37° 30′, which is north of Bahia Blanca. The four species have nearly similar habits; the peludo, however, is nocturnal, while the others wander by day over the open plains, feeding on beetles, larvæ, roots, and even small snakes. The apar, commonly called mataco, is remarkable by having only three moveable bands; the rest of its tesselated covering being nearly inflexible. It has the power of rolling itself into a perfect sphere, like one kind of English woodlouse. In this state it is safe from the attack of dogs; for the dog not being able to take the whole in its mouth, tries to bite one side, and the ball slips away. The smooth hard covering of the mataco offers a better defence than the sharp spines of the hedgehog. The pichy prefers a very dry soil, and the sand-dunes near the coast, where for many months it can never taste water, is its favourite resort. In the course of a day’s ride, near Bahia Blanca, several were generally met with. The instant one was perceived, it was necessary in order to catch it, almost to tumble off one’s horse; for if the soil was soft, the animal burrowed so quickly, that its hinder quarters had almost disappeared before one could alight. The pichy likewise often tries to escape notice, by squatting close to the ground. It appears almost a pity to kill such nice little animals, for as a Gaucho said, while sharpening his knife on the back of one, “Son tan mansos” (they are so quiet).

Of reptiles there are many kinds: one snake (a Trigonocephalus, or more properly a Cophias), from the size of the poison channel in its fangs, must be very deadly. Cuvier, in opposition to some other naturalists, makes this a sub-genus of the rattlesnake, and intermediate between it and the viper. In confirmation of this opinion, I observed a fact, which appears to me very curious and instructive, as showing how every character, even though it may be in some degree independent of structure, has a tendency to vary by slow degrees. The extremity of the tail of this snake is terminated by a point, which is very slightly enlarged; and as the animal glided along, it constantly vibrated the last inch; and this part striking against the dry grass and brushwood, produced a rattling noise, which could be distinctly heard at the distance of six feet. As often as the animal was irritated or surprised, its tail was shaken; and the vibrations were extremely rapid. Even as long as the body retained its irritability, a tendency to this habitual movement was evident. This Trigonocephalus has, therefore, in some respects the structure of Vipera, with the habits of a Crotalus; the noise, however, being produced by a simpler device. The expression of this snake’s face was hideous and fierce; the pupil consisted of a vertical slit in a mottled and coppery iris; the jaws were broad at the base, and the nose terminated in a triangular projection. I do not think I ever saw any thing more ugly, excepting, perhaps, in some of the vampire bats. I imagine this repulsive aspect originates from the features being placed in positions, with respect to each other, somewhat proportional to those of the human face; and thus we obtain a scale of beauty.

Amongst the Batrachian reptiles, I found only one little toad, which was most singular from its colour. If we imagine, first, that it had been steeped in the blackest ink, and then when dry, allowed to crawl over a board, freshly painted with the brightest vermilion, so as to colour the soles of its feet and parts of its stomach, a good idea of its appearance will be gained. If it is an unnamed species, surely it ought to be called diabolicus, for it is a fit toad to preach in the ear of Eve. Instead of being nocturnal in its habits, as other toads are, and living in damp obscure recesses, it crawls during the heat of the day about the dry sand-hillocks and arid plains, where not a single drop of water can be found. It must necessarily depend on the dew for its moisture; and this probably is absorbed by the skin, for it is known, that these reptiles possess great powers of cutaneous absorption. At Maldonado, I found one in a situation nearly as dry as at Bahia Blanca, and thinking to give it a great treat, carried it to a pool of water; not only was the little animal unable to swim, but, I think, without help would soon have been drowned.

Of lizards there were many kinds, but only one remarkable, from its habits. It lives on the bare sand near the sea-coast, and from its mottled colour, the brownish scales being speckled with white, yellowish red, and dirty blue, can hardly be distinguished from the surrounding surface. When frightened it attempts to avoid discovery by feigning death, with outstretched legs, depressed body, and closed eyes: if further molested, it buries itself with great quickness in the loose sand. This lizard, from its flattened body and short legs, cannot run quickly. It belongs to the genus Ophryessa.

I will here add a few remarks on the hybernation of animals in this part of South America. When we first arrived at Bahia Blanca, September 7th, 1832, we thought nature had granted scarcely a living creature to this sandy and dry country. By digging, however, in the ground, several insects, large spiders, and lizards were found in a half torpid state. On the 15th, a few animals began to appear, and by the 18th (three days from the equinox), every thing announced the commencement of spring. The plains were ornamented by the flowers of a pink wood sorrel, wild peas, œnotheræ, and geraniums; and the birds began to lay their eggs. Numerous Lamellicorn and Heteromerous insects, the latter remarkable for their deeply sculptured bodies, were slowly crawling about; while the Saurian tribe, the constant inhabitants of a sandy soil, darted in every direction. During the first eleven days, whilst nature was dormant, the mean temperature taken from observations made every two hours on board the Beagle, was 51°; and in the middle of the day the thermometer seldom ranged above 55°. On the eleven succeeding days, in which all living things became so animated, the mean was 58°, and the range in the middle of the day between sixty and seventy. Here then an increase of seven degrees in mean temperature, but a greater one of extreme heat, was sufficient to awake the functions of life. At Monte Video, from which we had just before sailed, in the twenty-three days included between the 26th of July and the 19th of August, the mean temperature from 276 observations was 58°.4; the mean hottest day being 65°.5, and the coldest 46°. The lowest point to which the thermometer fell was 41°.5, and occasionally in the middle of the day it rose to 69° or 70°. Yet with this elevated temperature, almost every beetle, several genera of spiders, snails, and land-shells, toads, and lizards were all lying torpid beneath stones. But we have seen that at Bahia Blanca, which is four degrees to the southward, and therefore with a climate only a very little colder, this same temperature with a rather less extreme heat, was sufficient to awake all orders of animated beings. This shows how nicely the required degree of stimulus is adapted to the general climate of the place, and how little it depends on absolute temperature. It is well known that within the tropics, the hybernation, or more properly estivation, of animals is governed by the times of drought. Near Rio de Janeiro, I was at first surprised to observe, that, a few days after some little depressions had been changed into pools of water by the rain, they were peopled by numerous full-grown shells and beetles. Humboldt has related the strange accident of a hovel having been erected over a spot, where a young crocodile lay buried in the hardened mud. He adds “The Indians often find enormous boas; which they call Uji, or water serpents, in the same lethargic state. To reanimate them, they must be irritated or wetted with water.”

I will only mention one other animal, a zoophyte allied to Virgularia,⁠[16] a kind of sea-pen. It consists of a thin, straight, fleshy stem, with alternate rows of polypi on each side, and surrounding an elastic stony axis. It varies in length from eight inches to two feet. The stem at one extremity is truncate, but at the other is terminated by a vermiform fleshy appendage, which is separated into two compartments; and in these, small, yellow, spherical ova are contained. The stony axis which gives strength to the stem, may be traced at this extremity into a mere vessel filled with granular matter. This undeveloped portion is enclosed in a transparent, elastic, irritable bag, containing a fluid in which a very distinct circulation of particles could be seen. This bag floats in one of the compartments of the fleshy terminal appendage. At low water hundreds of these zoophytes might be seen, projecting like stubble, with the truncate end upwards, a few inches above the surface of the muddy sand. When touched or pulled, they drew themselves in, suddenly and with force, so as nearly or quite to disappear. By this action, the highly elastic axis must be bent at the lower extremity, where it is naturally slightly curved; and I imagine it is by this elasticity that the zoophyte is enabled to rise again through the mud. Each polypus, though closely united to its brethren, has a distinct mouth, body, and tentacula. Of these polypi, in a large specimen, there must be many thousands; yet we see that they act by one movement; that they have one central axis connected with a system of obscure circulation; and that the ova are produced in an organ distinct from the separate individuals. Well may one be allowed to ask, what is an individual? I will add only one other observation on this zoophyte. The cavities leading from the fleshy compartments of the extremity, were filled with a yellow pulpy matter, which, examined under a microscope, presented an extraordinary appearance. The mass consisted of rounded, semi-transparent, irregular grains, aggregated together into particles of various sizes. All such particles, and the separate grains, possessed the power of rapid movement; generally revolving around different axes, but sometimes progressive. The movement was visible with a very weak power, but with the highest its cause could not be perceived. It was very different from the circulation of the fluid in the elastic bag, containing the thin extremity of the axis. On other occasions, when dissecting small marine animals beneath the microscope, I have seen particles of pulpy matter, some of large size, immediately they were disengaged, commence revolving. I have imagined, I know not with how much truth, that this granulo-pulpy matter was in process of being converted into ova. Certainly in this zoophyte such appeared to be the case.

During my stay at Bahia Blanca, while waiting for the Beagle, the place was in a constant state of excitement, from rumours of wars and victories, between the troops of Rosas and the wild Indians. One day an account came, that a small party forming one of the postas on the line to Buenos Ayres, had been found all murdered. The next day, three hundred men arrived from the Colorado, under the command of Commandant Miranda. A large portion of these men were Indians (mansos, or tame), belonging to the tribe of the Cacique Bernantio. They passed the night here; and it was impossible to conceive any thing more wild and savage than the scene of their bivouac. Some drank till they were intoxicated; others swallowed the steaming blood of the cattle slaughtered for their suppers, and then, being sick from drunkenness, they cast it up again, and were besmeared with filth and gore.

In the morning they started for the scene of the murder, with orders to follow the “rastro,” or track, even if it led them to Chile. We subsequently heard that the wild Indians had escaped into the great Pampas, and from some cause the track had been missed. One glance at the rastro tells these people a whole history. Supposing they examine the track of a thousand horses, they will soon guess by seeing how many have cantered the number of men; by the depth of the other impressions, whether any horses were loaded with cargoes; by the irregularity of the footsteps, how far tired; by the manner in which the food has been cooked, whether the pursued travelled in haste; by the general appearance, how long it has been since they passed. They consider a rastro of ten days or a fortnight, quite recent enough to be hunted out. We also heard that Miranda struck from the west end of the Sierra Ventana, in a direct line to the island of Cholechel, situated seventy leagues up the Rio Negro. This is a distance of between two and three hundred miles, through a country completely unknown. What other troops in the world are so independent? With the sun for their guide, mares’ flesh for food, their saddle-cloths for beds,—as long as there is a little water, these men would penetrate to the land’s end.

A few days afterwards I saw another troop of these banditti-like soldiers start on an expedition against a tribe of Indians at the small salinas, who had been betrayed by a prisoner cacique. The Spaniard who brought the orders for this expedition was a very intelligent man. He gave me an account of the last engagement at which he was present. Some Indians, who had been taken prisoners, gave information of a tribe living north of the Colorado. Two hundred soldiers were sent; and they first discovered the Indians by a cloud of dust from their horses’ feet, as they chanced to be travelling. The country was mountainous and wild, and it must have been far in the interior, for the Cordillera was in sight. The Indians, men, women, and children, were about one hundred and ten in number, and they were nearly all taken or killed, for the soldiers sabre every man. The Indians are now so terrified, that they offer no resistance in a body, but each flies, neglecting even his wife and children; but when overtaken, like wild animals, they fight against any number to the last moment. One dying Indian seized with his teeth the thumb of his adversary, and allowed his own eye to be forced out, sooner than relinquish his hold. Another, who was wounded, feigned death, keeping a knife ready to strike one more fatal blow. My informer said, when he was pursuing an Indian, the man cried out for mercy, at the same time that he was covertly loosing the bolas from his waist, meaning to whirl it round his head and so strike his pursuer. “I however struck him with my sabre to the ground, and then got off my horse, and cut his throat with my knife.” This is a dark picture; but how much more shocking is the unquestionable fact, that all the women who appear above twenty years old, are massacred in cold blood. When I exclaimed that this appeared rather inhuman, he answered, “Why, what can be done? they breed so!”

Every one here is fully convinced that this is the most just war because it is against barbarians. Who would believe in this age, in a Christian civilized country, that such atrocities were committed? The children of the Indians are saved, to be sold or given away as servants, or rather slaves, for as long a time as the owners can deceive them; but I believe in this respect there is little to complain of.

In the battle four men ran away together. They were pursued, and one was killed, but the other three were taken alive. They turned out to be messengers or ambassadors from a large body of Indians, united in the common cause of defence, near the Cordillera. The tribe to which they had been sent was on the point of holding a grand council; the feast of mare’s flesh was ready, and the dance prepared: in the morning the ambassadors were to have returned to the Cordillera. They were remarkably fine men, very fair, above six feet high, and all under thirty years of age. The three survivors of course possessed very valuable information; and to extort this they were placed in a line. The two first being questioned, answered, “No se” (I do not know), and were one after the other shot. The third also said “No se;” adding, “Fire, I am a man, and can die!” Not one syllable would they breathe to injure the united cause of their country! The conduct of the cacique was very different: he saved his life by betraying the intended plan of warfare, and the point of union in the Andes. It was believed that there were already six or seven hundred Indians together, and that in summer their numbers would be doubled. Ambassadors were to have been sent to the Indians at the small salinas, near Bahia Blanca, whom I mentioned that a cacique, this same man, had betrayed. The communication, therefore, extends from the Cordillera to the east coast.

General Rosas’s plan is to kill all stragglers, and having driven the remainder to a common point, in the summer, with the assistance of the Chilenos, to attack them in a body. This operation is to be repeated for three successive years. I imagine the summer is chosen as the time for the main attack, because the plains are then without water, and the Indians can only travel in particular directions. The escape of the Indians to the south of the Rio Negro, where in such a vast unknown country they would be safe, is prevented by a treaty with the Tehuelches to this effect;—that Rosas pays them so much to slaughter every Indian who passes to the south of the river, but if they fail in so doing, they themselves are to be exterminated. The war is waged chiefly against the Indians near the Cordillera; for many of the tribes on this eastern side are fighting with Rosas. The general, however, like Lord Chesterfield, thinking that his friends may in a future day become his enemies, always places them in the front ranks, so that their numbers may be thinned. Since leaving South America we have heard that this war of extermination completely failed.

Among the captive girls taken in the same engagement, there were two very pretty Spanish ones, who had been carried away by the Indians when young, and could now only speak the Indian tongue. From their account, they must have come from Salta, a distance in a straight line of nearly one thousand miles. This gives one a grand idea of the immense territory over which the Indians roam: yet, great as it is, I think there will not, in another half-century, be a wild Indian northward of the Rio Negro. The warfare is too bloody to last; the Christians killing every Indian, and the Indians doing the same by the Christians. It is melancholy to trace how the Indians have given way before the Spanish invaders. Schirdel⁠[17] says, that in 1535, when Buenos Ayres was founded, there were villages containing two and three thousand inhabitants. Even in Falconer’s time (1750) the Indians made inroads as far as Lucan, Areco, and Arrecife, but now they are driven beyond the Salado. Not only have whole tribes been wholly exterminated, but the remaining Indians have become more barbarous: instead of living in large villages, and being employed in the arts of fishing, as well as of the chase, they now wander about the open plains, without home or fixed occupation.

I heard also some account of an engagement which took place, a few weeks previously to the one mentioned, at Cholechel. This is a very important station, on account of being a pass for horses; and it was, in consequence, for some time the head-quarters of a division of the army. When the troops first arrived there, they found a tribe of Indians, of whom they killed twenty or thirty. The cacique escaped in a manner which astonished every one. The chief Indians always have one or two picked horses, which they keep ready for any urgent occasion. On one of these, an old white horse, the cacique sprung, taking with him his little son. The horse had neither saddle nor bridle. To avoid the shots, the Indian rode in the peculiar method of his nation; namely, with an arm round the horse’s neck, and one leg only on its back. Thus hanging on one side, he was seen patting the horse’s head, and talking to him. The pursuers urged every effort in the chase; the Commandant three times changed his horse, but all in vain. The old Indian father and his son escaped, and were free. What a fine picture one can form in one’s mind,—the naked bronze-like figure of the old man with his little boy, riding like a Mazeppa on the white horse, thus leaving far behind him the host of his pursuers!

I saw one day a soldier striking fire with a piece of flint, which I immediately recognised as having been a part of the head of an arrow. He told me it was found near the island of Cholechel, and that they are frequently picked up there. It was between two and three inches long, and therefore twice as large as those now used in Tierra del Fuego: it was made of opake cream-coloured flint, but the point and barbs had been intentionally broken off. It is well known that no Pampas Indians now use bows and arrows. I believe a small tribe in Banda Oriental must be excepted; but they are widely separated from the Pampas Indians, and border close on those tribes that inhabit the forest, and live on foot. It appears, therefore, that these arrow-heads are antiquarian⁠[18] relics of the Indians, before the great change in habits consequent on the introduction of the horse into South America.

FOOTNOTES: