Chapter Nine.The Turcomans.Asia has been remarkable, from the earliest times, for having a large population without any fixed place of residence, but who lead anomadeor wandering life. It is not the only quarter of the globe where this kind of people are found: as there are manynomadenations in Africa, especially in the northern division of it; and if we take the Indian race into consideration, we find that both the North and South-American continents have their tribes of wandering people. It is in Asia, nevertheless, that we find this unsettled mode of life carried out to its greatest extent,—it is there that we find those great pastoral tribes,—or “hordes,” as they have been termed,—who at different historical periods have not only increased to the numerical strength of large nationalities, but have also been powerful enough to overrun adjacent empires, pushing their conquests even into Europe itself. Such were the invasions of the Mongols under Zenghis Khan, the Tartars under Timour, and the Turks, whose degenerate descendants now so feebly hold the vast territory won by their wandering ancestors.The pastoral life, indeed, has its charms, that render it attractive to the natural disposition of man, and wherever the opportunity offers of following it, this life will be preferred to any other. It affords to man an abundant supply of all his most prominent wants, without requiring from him any very severe exertion, either of mind or body; and, considering the natural indolence of Asiatic people, it is not to be wondered at that so many of them betake themselves to this mode of existence. Their country, moreover, is peculiarly favourable to the development of a pastoral race. Perhaps not one third of the surface of the Asiatic continent is adapted to agriculture. At least one half of it is occupied by treeless, waterless plains, many of which have all the characters of a desert, where an agricultural people could not exist, or at all events, where their labour would be rewarded by only the most scant and precarious returns.Even a pastoral people in these regions would find but a sorry subsistence, were they confined to one spot; for the luxurious herbage which, for the most part, characterises the great savanna plains of America, is either altogether wanting upon thesteppesof Asia, or at best very meagre and inconstant. A fixed abode is therefore impossible, except in the most fertile tracts oroases: elsewhere, the nomad life is a necessity arising from the circumstances of the soil.It would be difficult to define exactly the limits of the territory occupied by the wandering races in Asia; but in a general way it may be said that the whole central portion of the continent is thus peopled: indeed, much more than the central portion,—for, if we except the rich agricultural countries of Hindostan and a small portion of Persia, Arabia, and Turkey, the whole of Asia is of this character. The countries known as Balk and Bokara, Yarkand and Khiva, with several others of equal note, are merely the central points of oases,—large towns, supported rather by commerce than by the produce of agriculture, and having nomad tribes dwelling within sight of their walls. Even the present boundaries of Asiatic Turkey, Arabia and Persia, contain within them a large proportion of nomadic population; and the same is true of Eastern Poland and Russia in Europe. A portion of the Affghan and Belochee country is also inhabited by nomad people.These wandering people are of many different types and races of men; but there is a certain similarity in the habits and customs of all: as might be expected from the similar circumstances in which they are placed.It is always the more sterile steppes that are thus occupied; and this is easily accounted for: where fertile districts occur the nomad life is no longer necessary. Even a wandering tribe, entering upon such a tract, would no longer have a motive for leaving it, and would soon become attached to the soil,—in other words, would cease to be wanderers; and whether they turned their attention to the pursuit of agriculture, or not, they would be certain to give up their tent-life, and fix themselves in a permanent abode. This has been the history of many Asiatic tribes; but there are many others, again, who from time immemorial, have shown a repugnance to the idea of fixing themselves to the soil. They prefer the free roving life which the desert enables them to indulge in; and wandering from place to place as the choice of pasture guides them, occupy themselves entirely in feeding their flocks and herds,—the sole means of their subsistence. These never have been, and never could be, induced to reside in towns or villages.Nor is it that they have been driven into these desert tracts to seek shelter from political oppression,—as is the case with some of the native tribes of Africa and America. On the contrary, these Asiatic nomads are more often the aggressors than the objects of aggression. It is rather a matter of choice and propensity with them: as with those tribes of the Arabian race,—known as “Bedouins.”The proportion of the Asiatic wandering population to those who dwell in towns, or fixed habitations, varies according to the nature of the country. In many extensive tracts, the former greatly exceed the latter; and the more sterile steppes are almost exclusively occupied by them. In general, they acknowledge the sovereignty of some of the great powers,—such as the empires of China, Russia, and Turkey, the kingdom of Persia, or that of several powerful khans, as those of Khiva and Bokara; but this sovereignty is, for the most part, little more than nominal, and their allegiance is readily thrown off, whenever they desire it. It is rarely so strong, as to enable any of the aforesaid powers to draw a heavy tribute from them; and some of the more warlike of the wandering tribes are much courted and caressed,—especially when their war services are required. In general they claim an hereditary right to the territories over which they roam, and pay but little heed to the orders of either king, khan, or emperor.As already stated, these wandering people are of different races; in fact, they are of nearly all the varieties indigenous to the Asiatic continent; and a whole catalogue of names might be given, of which Mongols, Tartars, Turcomans, Usbecks, Kirghees, and Calmucks, are perhaps the most generally known. It has been also stated that in many points they are alike; but there are also many important particulars in which they differ,—physical, moral, and intellectual. Some of the “hordes,” or tribes, are purely pastoral in their mode of life, and of mild and hospital dispositions, exceedingly fond of strangers, and kind to such as come among them. Others again are averse to all intercourse with others, than those of their own race and religion, and are shy, if not inhospitable, when visited by strangers. But there is a class of a still less creditable character,—a large number of tribes that are not only inhospitable, and hostile to strangers, but as ferocious and bloodthirsty as any savages in Africa, America, or the South-Sea Islands.As a fair specimen of this class we select the Turcomans; in fact, they may be regarded as itstype; and our description henceforward may be regarded as applying particularly to these people.The country of the Turcomans will be found upon the map without difficulty; but to define its exact boundary would be an impossibility, since none such exists. Were you to travel along the whole northern frontier of Persia, almost from the gates of Teheran to the eastern frontier of the kingdom,—or even further towards Balk,—you would be pretty sure of hearing of Turcoman robbers, and in very great danger of being plundered by them,—which last misfortune would be of less importance, as it would only be the prelude to your being either murdered on the spot, or carried off by them into captivity. In making this journey along the northern frontier of Persia, you would become acquainted with the whereabouts of the Turcoman hordes; or rather you would discover that the whole north part of Persia,—a good broad band of it extending hundreds of miles into its interior,—if not absolutely in possession of the Turcomans, is overrun and plundered by them at will. This, however, is not their home,—it is only their “stamping-ground,”—the home of their victims. Their place of habitual residence lies further to the north, and is defined with tolerable accuracy by its having the whole eastern shore of the Caspian Sea for its western border, while the Amou River (the ancient Oxus) may be generally regarded as the limit of their range towards the east. Some tribes go still further east than the Amou; but those more particularly distinguished for their plundering habits dwell within the limits described,—north of the Elburz Mountains, and on the great steppe of Kaurezm, where they are contiguous to the Usbeck community of Khiva.The whole of this immense territory, stretching from the eastern shore of the Caspian to the Amou and Aral Sea, may be characterised as a true desert. Here and there oases exist, but none of any importance, save the country of Khiva itself: and even that is but a mere irrigated strip, lying on both banks of the Oxus. Indeed, it is difficult to believe that this territory of Khiva, so insignificant in superficial extent, could have been the seat of a powerful empire, as it once was.The desert, then, between the Caspian Sea and the Oxus River may be regarded as the true land of the Turcomans, and is usually known as Turcomania. It is to be remembered, however, that there are some kindred tribes not included within the boundaries of Turcomania—for the Turkistan of the geographers is a country of much larger extent; besides, an important division of the Turcoman races are settlers, or rather wanderers in Armenia. To Turcomania proper, then, and its inhabitants, we shall confine our remarks.We shall not stay to inquire into the origin of the people now called Turcomans. Were we to speculate upon that point, we should make but little progress in an account of their habits and mode of living. They are usually regarded as of Tartar origin, or of Usbeck origin, or of Mongolian race; and in giving this account of them, I am certain that I add very little to your knowledge of what they really are. The truth is, that the words Tartar and Mongol and some half-dozen other titles, used in relation to the Asiatic races, are without any very definite signification,—simply because the relative distinctions of the different nations of that continent are very imperfectly known; and learned ethnologists are river loath to a confession of limited knowledge. One of this class, Mr Latham,—who requires only a few words of their language to decide categorically to what variety of the human race a people belongs,—has unfortunately added to this confusion by pronouncing nearly everybodyMongolian: placing the proud turbaned Turk in juxtaposition with the squat and stunted Laplander! Of course this is only bringing us back to the old idea, that all men are sprung from a single pair of first parents,—a doctrine, which, though popular, is difficult to reconcile with the rational knowledge derived from ethnological investigation.It matters little to our present purpose from what original race the Turcoman has descended: whether he be a true Turk, as some regard him, or whether he is a descendant of the followers of the Great Khan of the Tartars. He possesses the Tartar physiognomy to a considerable extent—some of the tribes more than others being thus distinguished,—and high cheek-bones, flat noses, small oblique eyes, and scanty beards, are all characteristics that are very generally observed. Some of these peculiarities are more common among the women than the men—many of the latter being tall, stout, and well-made, while a large number may be seen who have the regular features of a Persian. Perhaps it would be safest to consider the present Turcoman tribes as not belonging to a pure stock, but rather an admixture of several; and their habit of taking slaves from other nations, which has for a long time existed among them, would give probability to this idea. At all events, without some such hypothesis, it is difficult to account for the wonderful variety, both in feature and form, that is found among them. Their complexion is swarthy, in some cases almost brown as that of an American Indian; but constant exposure to the open air, in all sorts of weather, has much to do in darkening the hue of their skin. The newborn children are nearly as white as those of the Persians; and their young girls exhibit a ruddy brunette tint, which some consider even more pleasing than a perfectly white complexion.The costume of the Turcoman, like that of most Oriental nations, is rich and picturesque. The dress of the men varies according to rank. Some of the very poorer people wear nothing but a short woollen tonic or shirt, with a pair of coarse woollen drawers. Others, in place of this shirt, are clad in a longer garment, a sort of robe or wrapper, like a gentleman’s dressing-gown, made of camel’s-hair cloth, or some coarse brown woollen staff. But the true Turcoman costume, and that worn by all who can afford it, consists of a garment of mixed silk and cotton,—thebaronnee,—which descends below the knee, and though open in front, is made to button over the breast quite up to the neck. A gay sash around the waist adds to the effect; and below the skirt are seen trowsers of cotton or even silk. Cloth wrappers around the legs serve in the place of boots or gaiters; and on the feet are worn slippers of Persian fashion, with socks of soft Koordish leather.As the material of which the baronnee is made is of good quality—a mixture of silk and cotton—and as the fabric is always striped or checkered in colours of red, blue, purple, and green, the effect produced is that of a certain picturesqueness. The head-dress adds to this appearance—being a high fur cap, with truncated top, the fur being that beautiful kind obtained from the skins of the Astracan lamb, well-known in commerce. These caps are of different colours, either black, red, or grey. Another style of head-dress much worn is a round-topped or helmet-shaped cap, made of quilted cotton-stuff; but this kind, although in use among the Turcomans, is a more characteristic costume of their enemies, the “Koords,” who wear it universally.The “jubba” is a kind of robe generally intended to go over the other garments, and is usually of woollen or camel’s-hair cloth. It is also made like a dressing-gown, with wide sleeves,—tight, however, around the wrist. It is of ample dimensions, and one side is lapped over the other across the front, like a double-breasted coat. The “jubba” is essentially a national garment.The dress of the women is exceedingly picturesque. It is thus minutely described by a traveller:—“The head-dress of these women is singular enough: most of them wear a lofty cap, with a broad crown, resembling that of a soldier’s cap called a shako. This is stuck upon the back of the head; and over it is thrown a silk handkerchief of very brilliant colours, which covers the top, and falls down on each side like a veil. The front of this is covered with ornaments of silver and gold, in various shapes; more frequently gold coins, mohrs, or tomauns, strung in rows, with silver bells or buttons, and chains depending from them; hearts and other fanciful forms, with stones set in them. The whole gives rather the idea of gorgeous trappings for a horse, than ornaments for a female.“The frames of these monstrous caps are made of light chips of wood, or split reeds, covered with cloth; and when they do not wear these, they wrap a cloth around their heads in the same form; and carelessly throw another, like a veil over it. The veil or curtain above spoken of covers the mouth; descending to the breast. Earrings are worn in the ears; and their long hair is divided, and plaited into four parts, disposed two on each side; one of which falls down behind the shoulders and one before, and both are strung with a profusion of gold ornaments, agates, cornelians, and other stones, according to the means and quality of the wearer. The rest of their dress consists of a long, loose vest or shirt, with sleeves, which covers the whole person down to the feet, and is open at the breast, in front, but buttons or ties close up to the neck: this is made of silk or cotton-stuff, red, blue, green, striped red, and yellow, checked, or various-coloured: underneath this, are the zere-jameh, or drawers, also of silk or cotton; and some wear a shortpeerahnor shirt of the same. This, I believe, is all; but in the cold weather they wear, in addition, jubbas, or coats like those of the men, of striped stuff made of silk and cotton; on their feet they generally wear slippers like those of the Persian women.”The tents, or “portable houses” of the Turcomans—as their movable dwellings rather deserve to be called—differ from most structures of the kind in use elsewhere. They are thus described by the same intelligent traveller:—“The portable wooden houses of the Turcomans have been referred to by several writers; but I am not aware that any exact description of their structure has been given. The frame is curiously constructed of light wood, disposed in laths of about an inch broad by three quarters thick, crossing one another diagonally, but at right angles, about a foot asunder, and pinned at each crossing with thongs of raw hide, so as to be movable; and the whole framework may be closed up or opened in the manner of those toys for children that represent a company of soldiers, and close or expand at will, so as to form open or close column.“One or more pieces thus constructed being stretched out, surround a circular space of from fifteen to twenty feet diameter; and form the skeleton of the walls,—which are made firm by bands of hair or woollen ropes, hitched round the end of each rod, to secure it in its position. From the upper ends of these, rods of a similar kind, bent near the wall end into somewhat less than a right angle, are so disposed that the longer portions slope to the centre, and being tied with ropes, form the framework of a roof. Over this is thrown a covering of blacknumud, leaving in the centre a large hole to give vent to the smoke, and light to the dwelling. Similar numuds are wrapped round the walls; and outside of these, to keep all tight, is bound another frame, formed of split reeds or cane, or of very light and tough wood, tied together with strong twine, the pieces being perpendicular. This is itself secured by a strong, broad band of woven hair-stuff, which firmly unites. The large round opening at top is covered, as occasion requires, by a piece of numud, which is drawn off or on by a strong cord, like a curtain. If the wind be powerful, a stick is placed to leeward, which supports the fabric.“In most of these houses they do not keep a carpet or numud constantly spread; but the better classes use a carpet shaped somewhat in the form of a horseshoe, having the centre cut out for the fireplace, and the ends truncated, that those of inferior condition, or who do not choose to take off their boots, may sit down upon the ground. Upon this carpet they place one or two other numuds, as may be required, for guests of distinction. When they have women in the tent, a division of split reeds is made for their convenience; but the richer people have a separate tent for their private apartments.“The furniture consists of little more than camels and horses;joals, or bags in which their goods are packed, and which are often made of a very handsome species of worsted velvet carpet, of rich patterns; the swords, guns, spears, bows and arrows, and other implements of the family, with odds and ends of every description, may be seen hung on the ends of the wooden rods, which form very convenient pins for the purpose. Among some tribes all the domestic utensils are made of wood,—calleeoons, trays for presenting food, milk-vessels, etc: among others, all these things are formed of clay or metal. Upon the black tops of the tents may frequently be seen large white masses of sour curd, expressed from buttermilk, and set to dry as future store; this, broken down and mixed with water, forms a very pleasant acidulous drink, and is used as the basis of that intoxicating beverage calledkimmiz. The most common and most refreshing drink which they offer to the weary and over-heated traveller in the forenoon is buttermilk, or sour curds and water; and, indeed, a modification of this, with some other simple sherbets, are the only liquors presented at their meals.“Such are the wooden houses of the Turcomans, one of which just makes a camel’s load. There are poorer ones, of a less artificial construction, the framework of which is formed of reeds.“The encampment is generally square, enclosing an open space, or forming a broad street, the houses being ranged on either side, with their doors towards each other. At these may always be seen the most picturesque groups, occupied with their various domestic duties, or smoking their simple woodencalleeoons. The more important encampments are surrounded by a fence of reeds, which serve to protect the flocks from petty thefts.”It is now our place to inquire how the Turcomans occupy their time. We have already described them as a pastoral and nomadic people; and, under ordinary circumstances, their employment consists in looking after their flocks. In a few of the more fertile oases they have habitations, or rather camps, of a more permanent character, where they cultivate a little corn or barley, to supply them with the material for bread; but these settlements, if they deserve the name, are only exceptional; and are used chiefly as a kind of head-quarters, where the women and property are kept, while the men themselves are absent on their thieving expeditions. More generally their herds are kept on the move, and are driven from place to place at short intervals of a few weeks or even days. The striking and pitching of their tents gives them employment; to which is added that of milking the cattle, and making the cheese and butter. The women, moreover, fill up their idle hours in weaving the coarse blankets, or “numuds,” in plaiting mats, and manufacturing various articles of dress or household use. The more costly parts of their costume, however, are not of native manufacture: these are obtained by trade. The men alone look after the camels and horses, taking special care of the latter.Their flocks present a considerable variety of species. Besides horses, cattle, and sheep, they own many camels, and they have no less than three distinct varieties of this valuable animal in their possession,—the dromedary with two humps, and the common camel. The third sort is a cross breed—or “mule”—between these two. The dromedary is slightly made, and swifter than either of the others, but it is not so powerful as either; and being inferior as a beast of burden, is least cared for by the Turcomans. The one-humped camel is in more general use, and a good one will carry a load of six or seven hundred pounds with ease. The mule camel is more powerful than either of its parents, and also more docile and capable of greater endurance. It grows to a very large size, but is low in proportion to its bulk, with stout, bony legs, and a large quantity of coarse, shaggy hair on its haunch, shoulders, neck, and even on the crown of its head, which gives it a strange, somewhat fantastic appearance. Its colour varies from light grey to brown, though it is as often nearly black. This kind of camel will carry a load of from eight hundred to a thousand pounds.The Turcoman sheep are of the large-tailed breed,—their tails often attaining enormous dimensions. This variety of sheep is a true denizen of the desert, the fat tail being unquestionably a provision of nature against seasons of hunger,—just as in the single protuberance, or “hump,” upon the camel.The horse of the Turcoman is the animal upon which he sets most value. The breed possessed by him is celebrated over all Eastern Asia, as that of the Arab is in the West. They cannot be regarded, however, as handsome horses, according to the true standard of “horse beauty;” but the Turcoman cares less for this than for other good qualities. In point of speed and endurance they are not excelled, if equalled, by the horses of any other country.Their size is that of the common horse, but they are very different in make. Their bodies are long in proportion to the bulk of carcass; and they do not appear to possess sufficient compactness of frame. Their legs are also long, generally falling off in muscular development below the knee-joint; and they would appear to an English jockey too narrow in the counter. They have also long necks, with large heavy heads. These are the points which are generally observed in the Turcoman horses; but it is to be remarked, that it is only when in an under-condition they look so ungraceful; and in this condition their owners are accustomed to keep them, especially when they have any very heavy service to perform. Feeding produces a better shape, and brings them much nearer to the look of a well-bred English horse.Their powers of endurance are indeed, almost incredible: when trained for a chappow, or plundering expedition, they will carry their rider and provisions for seven or eight days together, at the rate of twenty or even thirty fursungs—that is, from eighty to one hundred miles—a day. Their mode of training is more like that of our pugilistic and pedestrian performers, than that adopted for race-horses. When any expedition of great length, and requiring the exertion of much speed, is in contemplation, they commence by running their horses every day for many miles together; they feed them sparingly on barley alone, and pile numuds upon them at night to sweat them, until every particle of fat has been removed, and the flesh becomes hard and tendonous. Of this they judge by the feel of the muscles, particularly on the crest, at the back of the neck, and on the haunches; and when these are sufficiently firm and hard, they say in praise of the animal, that “his flesh is marble.” After this sort of training, the horse will proceed with expedition and perseverance, for almost any length of time, without either falling off in condition or knocking up, while horses that set out fat seldom survive. They are taught a quick walk, a light trot, or a sort of amble, which carries the rider on easily, at the rate of six miles an hour; but they will also go at a round canter, or gallop, for forty or fifty miles, without ever drawing bridle or showing the least symptom of fatigue. Theiryaboos, or galloways, and large ponies are fully as remarkable, if not superior, to their horses, in their power of sustaining fatigue; they are stout, compact, spirited beasts, without the fine blood of the larger breeds, but more within the reach of the poorer classes, and consequently used in by far greater numbers than the superior and more expensive horses.“It is a common practice of the Turcomans to teach their horses to fight with their heels, and thus assist their masters in the time of action. At the will of their riders they will run at and lay hold with their teeth of whatever man or animal may be before them. This acquirement is useful in the day of battle and plunder, for catching prisoners and stray cattle, but it at the same time renders them vicious and dangerous to be handled.”In addition to the flocks and herds, the Turcomans possess a breed of very large fierce dogs, to assist them in keeping their cattle. These are also necessary as watch-dogs, to protect the camp from thieves as well as more dangerous enemies to their peace; and so well-trained are those faithful creatures, that it would be impossible for either friend or enemy to approach a Turcoman camp without the inmates being forewarned in time. Two or three of these dogs may always be seen lying by the entrance of each tent; and throughout the night several others keep sentry at the approaches to the camp.Other breeds of dogs owned by them are used for hunting,—for these wild wanderers sometimes devote their hours to the chase. They have two sorts,—a smooth-skinned dog, half hound half pointer, that hunts chiefly by the scent; and a greyhound, of great swiftness, with a coat of long, silky hair, which they make use of in coursing,—hares and antelopes being their game.They have a mode of hunting—also practised by the Persians—which is peculiar. It should rather be termed hawking than hunting, as a hawk is employed for the purpose. It is a species of falcon denominated “goork,” and is trained not only to dash at small game, such as partridges and bustards, but upon antelopes and even the wild ass that is found in plenty upon the plains of Turcomania. You will wonder how a bird, not larger than the common falcon, could capture such game as this but it will appear simple enough when the method has been explained. The “goork” is trained to fly at the quadruped, and fix its claws in one particular place,—that is, upon the frontlet, just between the eyes. When thus attached, the bird, instead of closing its wings and remaining at rest, keeps them constantly in motion, flapping them over the eyes of the quadruped. This it does, no doubt, to enable it to retain its perch; while the unfortunate animal, thus assailed, knows not in what direction to run, and is soon overtaken by the pursuing sportsmen, and either speared or shot with the bow and arrow.Wild boars are frequently hunted by the Turcomans; and this, like everything else with these rude centaurs, is performed on horseback. The bow and arrow is but a poor weapon when employed against the thick, tough hide of the Hyrcanian boar (for he is literally the Hyrcanian boar), and of course the matchlock would be equally ineffective. How, then, does the Turcoman sportsman manage to bag this bristly game? With all the ease in the world. It costs him only the effort of galloping his horse close up to the side of the boar after he has been brought to by the dogs, and then suddenly wheeling the steed. The latter, well-trained to the task, without further prompting, goes through the rest of the performance, which consists in administering to the boar such a slap with his iron-shod heel, as to prostrate the porcine quadruped, often killing it on the instant!Such employments and such diversions occupy only a small portion of the Turcoman’s tune. He follows another calling of a far less creditable character, which unfortunately he regards as the most honourable occupation of his life. This is the calling of the robber. His pastoral pursuits are matters of only secondary consideration. He only looks to them as a means of supplying his daily wants,—his food and the more necessary portion of his clothing; but he has other wants that may be deemed luxuries. He requires to keep up his stock of horses and camels, and wishes to increase them. He needs costly gear for his horse, and costly garments for himself—and he is desirous of being possessed of fine weapons, such as spears, swords, bows, matchlocks, daggers, and pistols. His most effective weapons are the spear and sword, and these are the kinds he chiefly uses.His spear consists of a steel head with four flutes, and edges very sharp, fixed upon a slender shaft of from eight to ten feet in length. In using it he couches it under the left arm, and directs it with the right hand, either; straightforward, or to the right or left; if to the right, the butt of the shaft lies across the hinder part of the saddle; if to the left, the forepart of the spear rests on the horse’s neck. The Turcomans manage their horses with the left hand, but most of these are so well broken as to obey the movement of the knee, or the impulse of the body. When close to their object, they frequently grasp the spear with both hands, to give greater effect to the thrust. The horse, spurred to the full speed of a charge, in this way, offers an attack no doubt very formidable in appearance, but perhaps less really dangerous than the other, in which success depends so greatly on skill and address. The Turcomans are all sufficiently dexterous with the sword, which is almost universally formed in the curved Persian fashion, and very sharp; they also wear a dagger at the waist-belt. Firearms are as yet little in use among them; they possess a few, taken from the travellers they have plundered, and procure a few more occasionally from the Russians by the way of Bokara. Some use bows and arrows, but they are by no means so dexterous as their ancestors were in the handling of those weapons.Mounted, then, upon his matchless steed, and armed with spear and sword, the Turcoman goes forth to practise his favourite profession,—that of plunder. He does not go alone, nor with a small number of his comrades, either. The number depends altogether on the distance or danger of the expedition; and where these are considered great, a troop of five hundred, or even a thousand, usually proceed together upon their errand.You will be inquiring to what point they direct themselves,—east, west, north, or south? That altogether depends upon who may be their enemies for the time, for along with their desire for booty, there is also mixed up something like a sentiment of hostility. In this respect, however, the Turcoman is a true Ishmaelite, and in lack of other victim he will not hesitate to plunder the people of a kindred race. Indeed, several of the Turcoman tribes have long been at war with one another; and their animosity is quite as deadly among themselves as when directed against strangers to their race. Thebutt, however, of most of the Turcoman expeditions is the northern part of Persia,—Korassan in particular. It is into this province that most of their great forays are directed, either against the peaceful citizens of the Persian towns and villages, or as often against the merchant caravans that are constantly passing between Teheran and the cities of the east,—Mushed, Balkh, Bokara, Herat, and Kelat. I have already stated that these forays are pushed far into the interior of Persia; and the fact of Persia permitting such a state of things to continue will perhaps surprise you; but you would not be surprised were you better acquainted with the condition of that kingdom. From historic associations, you believe Persia to be a powerful nation; and so it once was, both powerful and prosperous. That day is past; and at the present hour, this decaying monarchy is not only powerless to maintain order within its own borders, but is even threatened with annihilation from those very nomad races that have so often given laws to the great empires of Asia. Even at this moment, the more powerful Tartar Khans turn a longing look towards the tottering throne of Nadir Shah; and he of Khiva has more than once made a feint at invasion. But the subject is too extensive to be discussed here. It is only introduced to explain with what facility a few hundreds of Turcoman robbers can enter and harass the land. We find a parallel in many other parts of the world,—old as well as new. In the latter, the northern provinces of Mexico, and the southern countries of La Plata and Paraguay, are in just such a condition: the weak, worn-out descendants of the Spanish conquerors on one side, well representing the remnants of the race of Nadir Shah; while, on the other, the Turcoman is type enough of the Red Indian. The comparison, however, is not just to the latter. He, at least, is possessed of courage and prowess; while the Turcoman, notwithstanding his propensities for plunder, and the bloodthirsty ferocity of his character, is as arrant a coward as ever carried lance. Even the Persian can cope with him, when fairly matched; and the merchant caravans,—which are usually made up of true Turks, and other races possessing a little “pluck,” are never attacked, unless when outnumbered in the ratio of three to one.For all this, the whole northern portion of the Persian kingdom is left to the mercy of these desert-robbers. The towns and villages have each their large fortress, into which the people retire whenever the plunderers make their appearance, and there dwell till the latter have ridden away,—driving off their flocks and herds to the desert fastnesses. Even the poor farmer is obliged to build a fortress in the middle of his fields, to which he may retire upon the occasion of any sudden alarm, and his labourers till the ground with their swords by their sides, and their matchlocks lying near!These field fortresses of Korassan are altogether so curious, both as to construction and purpose, that we cannot pass them without a word of description. They are usually placed in some conspicuous place, at a convenient distance from all parts of the cultivated tract. They are built of mud, and raised to a height of fifteen or twenty feet, of a circular form,—bearing some resemblance to the well-known round towers of Ireland. A small aperture is left open at the bottom, through which those seeking shelter may just squeeze their bodies, and this being barricaded inside, the defence is complete. From the top—which can be reached easily on the inside—the farmer and his labourers can use their matchlocks with effect; but they are never called upon to do so,—as the cowardly freebooter takes good care to give the mud tower a wide birth. He has no weapons by which he might assail it; and, moreover, he has no time for sieges: since an hour’s delay might bring him into danger from the force that is fast approaching. His only thought is to keep on his course, and sweep off such cattle, or make prisoners of such people as he may chance to find unwarned and unarmed. Now and then he ventures upon an attack—where there is much booty to tempt him, and but a weak force to defend it. His enemies,—the hated “Kuzzilbashes,” as he calls the Persians,—if defeated, have no mercy to expect from him. All who resist are killed upon the spot, and often torture is the mode of their death; but if they can be made prisoners, the desert-robber prefers letting them live, as a captive is to him a more valuable consideration than the death of an enemy. His prisoner, once secured, knows tolerably well what is to follow. The first thing the Turcoman does is to bind the victim’s hands securely behind his back; he then puts a long halter around his neck, attaching the other end of it to the tail of his horse, and in this fashion the homeward march commences. If the poor pedestrian does not keep pace with the horse, he knows what he may expect,—to be dragged at intervals along the ground, and perhaps torn to pieces upon the rocks. With this horrid fate before his fancy, he makes efforts almost superhuman to keep pace with the troop of his inhuman captors: though well aware that they are leading him off into a hopeless bondage.At night, his feet are also tied; and, thrown down upon the earth, he is covered with a coarse “numud.” Do not fancy that this is done to screen him from the cold: the object is very different indeed. The numud is placed over him in order that two of his captors may sleep upon its edges—one on each side of him—thus holding him down, and frustrating any chance of escape.On arriving at the robber-camp, the captive is not kept long in suspense as to his future fate. His owner—for he is now in reality a slave—wants a new word, or a piece of silken cloth, or a camel, or some other article of luxury. That he can obtain either at Khiva or Bokara, in exchange for his slave; and therefore the new captive—or captives, as the chance may be—is marched off to the ready market. This is no isolated nor rare incident. It is one of everyday occurrence; and it is a noted fact, that of the three hundred thousand people who constitute the subjects of the Khivan Khan, nearly one half are Persian slaves obtained from the robbers of Turcomania!The political organisation of the Turcomans is of the patriarchal character. From necessity they dwell in small communities that are termed “teers,” the literal signification of which is “arrows,”—though for what reason they are so styled does not appear. Perhaps it is on account of the rapidity of their movements: for, in hostile excursions, or moving from place to place, they proceed with a celerity that may be compared to arrows.Over each tribe or teer there is a chief, similar to the “sheik” of the Arab tribes,—and indeed, many of their customs offer a close analogy to those of the wandering Bedouins of Arabia and Egypt, and the Kabyles of Morocco and the Algerine provinces. The circumstances of life—almost alike to both—could not fail to produce many striking resemblances.The Turcoman tribes, as already observed, frequently go to war with each other, but they oftener unite to rob the common enemy,—the caravan or the Persian village. In these mere plundering expeditions they go in such numbers as the case may require; but when called forth to take side in anything like a national war, they can muster to the strength of many thousands; and then indeed, they become terrible,—even to the most potent sovereigns of Central Asia, by whom much diplomacy is employed to enlist them on one side or the other. It matters little to them what the cause be,—he who can promise them the largest booty in cattle or slaves is sure to have the help of their spears and swords.The Turcomans are not Pagans,—that is, they are not professedly so,—though, for all the regard which they pay to religious observances, they might as well be termed true Infidels. They profess a religion, however, and that is Mohametanism in its worst and most bigoted form,—the “Sunnite.” The Persians, as is well-known, hold the milder Sheean doctrines; and as the votaries of the two, in most countries where both are practised, cordially hate each other, so it is between Turcomans and Persians. The former even scorn the Persian creed, calling its followers “Infidel” dogs, orKuzzilbashes; and this bigoted rancour gives them a sort of plausible excuse for the hostile attitude which they hold towards them.Taking them upon the whole, the Turcomans may be looked upon as true savages,—savages dressed insilkinstead of inskins.
Asia has been remarkable, from the earliest times, for having a large population without any fixed place of residence, but who lead anomadeor wandering life. It is not the only quarter of the globe where this kind of people are found: as there are manynomadenations in Africa, especially in the northern division of it; and if we take the Indian race into consideration, we find that both the North and South-American continents have their tribes of wandering people. It is in Asia, nevertheless, that we find this unsettled mode of life carried out to its greatest extent,—it is there that we find those great pastoral tribes,—or “hordes,” as they have been termed,—who at different historical periods have not only increased to the numerical strength of large nationalities, but have also been powerful enough to overrun adjacent empires, pushing their conquests even into Europe itself. Such were the invasions of the Mongols under Zenghis Khan, the Tartars under Timour, and the Turks, whose degenerate descendants now so feebly hold the vast territory won by their wandering ancestors.
The pastoral life, indeed, has its charms, that render it attractive to the natural disposition of man, and wherever the opportunity offers of following it, this life will be preferred to any other. It affords to man an abundant supply of all his most prominent wants, without requiring from him any very severe exertion, either of mind or body; and, considering the natural indolence of Asiatic people, it is not to be wondered at that so many of them betake themselves to this mode of existence. Their country, moreover, is peculiarly favourable to the development of a pastoral race. Perhaps not one third of the surface of the Asiatic continent is adapted to agriculture. At least one half of it is occupied by treeless, waterless plains, many of which have all the characters of a desert, where an agricultural people could not exist, or at all events, where their labour would be rewarded by only the most scant and precarious returns.
Even a pastoral people in these regions would find but a sorry subsistence, were they confined to one spot; for the luxurious herbage which, for the most part, characterises the great savanna plains of America, is either altogether wanting upon thesteppesof Asia, or at best very meagre and inconstant. A fixed abode is therefore impossible, except in the most fertile tracts oroases: elsewhere, the nomad life is a necessity arising from the circumstances of the soil.
It would be difficult to define exactly the limits of the territory occupied by the wandering races in Asia; but in a general way it may be said that the whole central portion of the continent is thus peopled: indeed, much more than the central portion,—for, if we except the rich agricultural countries of Hindostan and a small portion of Persia, Arabia, and Turkey, the whole of Asia is of this character. The countries known as Balk and Bokara, Yarkand and Khiva, with several others of equal note, are merely the central points of oases,—large towns, supported rather by commerce than by the produce of agriculture, and having nomad tribes dwelling within sight of their walls. Even the present boundaries of Asiatic Turkey, Arabia and Persia, contain within them a large proportion of nomadic population; and the same is true of Eastern Poland and Russia in Europe. A portion of the Affghan and Belochee country is also inhabited by nomad people.
These wandering people are of many different types and races of men; but there is a certain similarity in the habits and customs of all: as might be expected from the similar circumstances in which they are placed.
It is always the more sterile steppes that are thus occupied; and this is easily accounted for: where fertile districts occur the nomad life is no longer necessary. Even a wandering tribe, entering upon such a tract, would no longer have a motive for leaving it, and would soon become attached to the soil,—in other words, would cease to be wanderers; and whether they turned their attention to the pursuit of agriculture, or not, they would be certain to give up their tent-life, and fix themselves in a permanent abode. This has been the history of many Asiatic tribes; but there are many others, again, who from time immemorial, have shown a repugnance to the idea of fixing themselves to the soil. They prefer the free roving life which the desert enables them to indulge in; and wandering from place to place as the choice of pasture guides them, occupy themselves entirely in feeding their flocks and herds,—the sole means of their subsistence. These never have been, and never could be, induced to reside in towns or villages.
Nor is it that they have been driven into these desert tracts to seek shelter from political oppression,—as is the case with some of the native tribes of Africa and America. On the contrary, these Asiatic nomads are more often the aggressors than the objects of aggression. It is rather a matter of choice and propensity with them: as with those tribes of the Arabian race,—known as “Bedouins.”
The proportion of the Asiatic wandering population to those who dwell in towns, or fixed habitations, varies according to the nature of the country. In many extensive tracts, the former greatly exceed the latter; and the more sterile steppes are almost exclusively occupied by them. In general, they acknowledge the sovereignty of some of the great powers,—such as the empires of China, Russia, and Turkey, the kingdom of Persia, or that of several powerful khans, as those of Khiva and Bokara; but this sovereignty is, for the most part, little more than nominal, and their allegiance is readily thrown off, whenever they desire it. It is rarely so strong, as to enable any of the aforesaid powers to draw a heavy tribute from them; and some of the more warlike of the wandering tribes are much courted and caressed,—especially when their war services are required. In general they claim an hereditary right to the territories over which they roam, and pay but little heed to the orders of either king, khan, or emperor.
As already stated, these wandering people are of different races; in fact, they are of nearly all the varieties indigenous to the Asiatic continent; and a whole catalogue of names might be given, of which Mongols, Tartars, Turcomans, Usbecks, Kirghees, and Calmucks, are perhaps the most generally known. It has been also stated that in many points they are alike; but there are also many important particulars in which they differ,—physical, moral, and intellectual. Some of the “hordes,” or tribes, are purely pastoral in their mode of life, and of mild and hospital dispositions, exceedingly fond of strangers, and kind to such as come among them. Others again are averse to all intercourse with others, than those of their own race and religion, and are shy, if not inhospitable, when visited by strangers. But there is a class of a still less creditable character,—a large number of tribes that are not only inhospitable, and hostile to strangers, but as ferocious and bloodthirsty as any savages in Africa, America, or the South-Sea Islands.
As a fair specimen of this class we select the Turcomans; in fact, they may be regarded as itstype; and our description henceforward may be regarded as applying particularly to these people.
The country of the Turcomans will be found upon the map without difficulty; but to define its exact boundary would be an impossibility, since none such exists. Were you to travel along the whole northern frontier of Persia, almost from the gates of Teheran to the eastern frontier of the kingdom,—or even further towards Balk,—you would be pretty sure of hearing of Turcoman robbers, and in very great danger of being plundered by them,—which last misfortune would be of less importance, as it would only be the prelude to your being either murdered on the spot, or carried off by them into captivity. In making this journey along the northern frontier of Persia, you would become acquainted with the whereabouts of the Turcoman hordes; or rather you would discover that the whole north part of Persia,—a good broad band of it extending hundreds of miles into its interior,—if not absolutely in possession of the Turcomans, is overrun and plundered by them at will. This, however, is not their home,—it is only their “stamping-ground,”—the home of their victims. Their place of habitual residence lies further to the north, and is defined with tolerable accuracy by its having the whole eastern shore of the Caspian Sea for its western border, while the Amou River (the ancient Oxus) may be generally regarded as the limit of their range towards the east. Some tribes go still further east than the Amou; but those more particularly distinguished for their plundering habits dwell within the limits described,—north of the Elburz Mountains, and on the great steppe of Kaurezm, where they are contiguous to the Usbeck community of Khiva.
The whole of this immense territory, stretching from the eastern shore of the Caspian to the Amou and Aral Sea, may be characterised as a true desert. Here and there oases exist, but none of any importance, save the country of Khiva itself: and even that is but a mere irrigated strip, lying on both banks of the Oxus. Indeed, it is difficult to believe that this territory of Khiva, so insignificant in superficial extent, could have been the seat of a powerful empire, as it once was.
The desert, then, between the Caspian Sea and the Oxus River may be regarded as the true land of the Turcomans, and is usually known as Turcomania. It is to be remembered, however, that there are some kindred tribes not included within the boundaries of Turcomania—for the Turkistan of the geographers is a country of much larger extent; besides, an important division of the Turcoman races are settlers, or rather wanderers in Armenia. To Turcomania proper, then, and its inhabitants, we shall confine our remarks.
We shall not stay to inquire into the origin of the people now called Turcomans. Were we to speculate upon that point, we should make but little progress in an account of their habits and mode of living. They are usually regarded as of Tartar origin, or of Usbeck origin, or of Mongolian race; and in giving this account of them, I am certain that I add very little to your knowledge of what they really are. The truth is, that the words Tartar and Mongol and some half-dozen other titles, used in relation to the Asiatic races, are without any very definite signification,—simply because the relative distinctions of the different nations of that continent are very imperfectly known; and learned ethnologists are river loath to a confession of limited knowledge. One of this class, Mr Latham,—who requires only a few words of their language to decide categorically to what variety of the human race a people belongs,—has unfortunately added to this confusion by pronouncing nearly everybodyMongolian: placing the proud turbaned Turk in juxtaposition with the squat and stunted Laplander! Of course this is only bringing us back to the old idea, that all men are sprung from a single pair of first parents,—a doctrine, which, though popular, is difficult to reconcile with the rational knowledge derived from ethnological investigation.
It matters little to our present purpose from what original race the Turcoman has descended: whether he be a true Turk, as some regard him, or whether he is a descendant of the followers of the Great Khan of the Tartars. He possesses the Tartar physiognomy to a considerable extent—some of the tribes more than others being thus distinguished,—and high cheek-bones, flat noses, small oblique eyes, and scanty beards, are all characteristics that are very generally observed. Some of these peculiarities are more common among the women than the men—many of the latter being tall, stout, and well-made, while a large number may be seen who have the regular features of a Persian. Perhaps it would be safest to consider the present Turcoman tribes as not belonging to a pure stock, but rather an admixture of several; and their habit of taking slaves from other nations, which has for a long time existed among them, would give probability to this idea. At all events, without some such hypothesis, it is difficult to account for the wonderful variety, both in feature and form, that is found among them. Their complexion is swarthy, in some cases almost brown as that of an American Indian; but constant exposure to the open air, in all sorts of weather, has much to do in darkening the hue of their skin. The newborn children are nearly as white as those of the Persians; and their young girls exhibit a ruddy brunette tint, which some consider even more pleasing than a perfectly white complexion.
The costume of the Turcoman, like that of most Oriental nations, is rich and picturesque. The dress of the men varies according to rank. Some of the very poorer people wear nothing but a short woollen tonic or shirt, with a pair of coarse woollen drawers. Others, in place of this shirt, are clad in a longer garment, a sort of robe or wrapper, like a gentleman’s dressing-gown, made of camel’s-hair cloth, or some coarse brown woollen staff. But the true Turcoman costume, and that worn by all who can afford it, consists of a garment of mixed silk and cotton,—thebaronnee,—which descends below the knee, and though open in front, is made to button over the breast quite up to the neck. A gay sash around the waist adds to the effect; and below the skirt are seen trowsers of cotton or even silk. Cloth wrappers around the legs serve in the place of boots or gaiters; and on the feet are worn slippers of Persian fashion, with socks of soft Koordish leather.
As the material of which the baronnee is made is of good quality—a mixture of silk and cotton—and as the fabric is always striped or checkered in colours of red, blue, purple, and green, the effect produced is that of a certain picturesqueness. The head-dress adds to this appearance—being a high fur cap, with truncated top, the fur being that beautiful kind obtained from the skins of the Astracan lamb, well-known in commerce. These caps are of different colours, either black, red, or grey. Another style of head-dress much worn is a round-topped or helmet-shaped cap, made of quilted cotton-stuff; but this kind, although in use among the Turcomans, is a more characteristic costume of their enemies, the “Koords,” who wear it universally.
The “jubba” is a kind of robe generally intended to go over the other garments, and is usually of woollen or camel’s-hair cloth. It is also made like a dressing-gown, with wide sleeves,—tight, however, around the wrist. It is of ample dimensions, and one side is lapped over the other across the front, like a double-breasted coat. The “jubba” is essentially a national garment.
The dress of the women is exceedingly picturesque. It is thus minutely described by a traveller:—
“The head-dress of these women is singular enough: most of them wear a lofty cap, with a broad crown, resembling that of a soldier’s cap called a shako. This is stuck upon the back of the head; and over it is thrown a silk handkerchief of very brilliant colours, which covers the top, and falls down on each side like a veil. The front of this is covered with ornaments of silver and gold, in various shapes; more frequently gold coins, mohrs, or tomauns, strung in rows, with silver bells or buttons, and chains depending from them; hearts and other fanciful forms, with stones set in them. The whole gives rather the idea of gorgeous trappings for a horse, than ornaments for a female.
“The frames of these monstrous caps are made of light chips of wood, or split reeds, covered with cloth; and when they do not wear these, they wrap a cloth around their heads in the same form; and carelessly throw another, like a veil over it. The veil or curtain above spoken of covers the mouth; descending to the breast. Earrings are worn in the ears; and their long hair is divided, and plaited into four parts, disposed two on each side; one of which falls down behind the shoulders and one before, and both are strung with a profusion of gold ornaments, agates, cornelians, and other stones, according to the means and quality of the wearer. The rest of their dress consists of a long, loose vest or shirt, with sleeves, which covers the whole person down to the feet, and is open at the breast, in front, but buttons or ties close up to the neck: this is made of silk or cotton-stuff, red, blue, green, striped red, and yellow, checked, or various-coloured: underneath this, are the zere-jameh, or drawers, also of silk or cotton; and some wear a shortpeerahnor shirt of the same. This, I believe, is all; but in the cold weather they wear, in addition, jubbas, or coats like those of the men, of striped stuff made of silk and cotton; on their feet they generally wear slippers like those of the Persian women.”
The tents, or “portable houses” of the Turcomans—as their movable dwellings rather deserve to be called—differ from most structures of the kind in use elsewhere. They are thus described by the same intelligent traveller:—
“The portable wooden houses of the Turcomans have been referred to by several writers; but I am not aware that any exact description of their structure has been given. The frame is curiously constructed of light wood, disposed in laths of about an inch broad by three quarters thick, crossing one another diagonally, but at right angles, about a foot asunder, and pinned at each crossing with thongs of raw hide, so as to be movable; and the whole framework may be closed up or opened in the manner of those toys for children that represent a company of soldiers, and close or expand at will, so as to form open or close column.
“One or more pieces thus constructed being stretched out, surround a circular space of from fifteen to twenty feet diameter; and form the skeleton of the walls,—which are made firm by bands of hair or woollen ropes, hitched round the end of each rod, to secure it in its position. From the upper ends of these, rods of a similar kind, bent near the wall end into somewhat less than a right angle, are so disposed that the longer portions slope to the centre, and being tied with ropes, form the framework of a roof. Over this is thrown a covering of blacknumud, leaving in the centre a large hole to give vent to the smoke, and light to the dwelling. Similar numuds are wrapped round the walls; and outside of these, to keep all tight, is bound another frame, formed of split reeds or cane, or of very light and tough wood, tied together with strong twine, the pieces being perpendicular. This is itself secured by a strong, broad band of woven hair-stuff, which firmly unites. The large round opening at top is covered, as occasion requires, by a piece of numud, which is drawn off or on by a strong cord, like a curtain. If the wind be powerful, a stick is placed to leeward, which supports the fabric.
“In most of these houses they do not keep a carpet or numud constantly spread; but the better classes use a carpet shaped somewhat in the form of a horseshoe, having the centre cut out for the fireplace, and the ends truncated, that those of inferior condition, or who do not choose to take off their boots, may sit down upon the ground. Upon this carpet they place one or two other numuds, as may be required, for guests of distinction. When they have women in the tent, a division of split reeds is made for their convenience; but the richer people have a separate tent for their private apartments.
“The furniture consists of little more than camels and horses;joals, or bags in which their goods are packed, and which are often made of a very handsome species of worsted velvet carpet, of rich patterns; the swords, guns, spears, bows and arrows, and other implements of the family, with odds and ends of every description, may be seen hung on the ends of the wooden rods, which form very convenient pins for the purpose. Among some tribes all the domestic utensils are made of wood,—calleeoons, trays for presenting food, milk-vessels, etc: among others, all these things are formed of clay or metal. Upon the black tops of the tents may frequently be seen large white masses of sour curd, expressed from buttermilk, and set to dry as future store; this, broken down and mixed with water, forms a very pleasant acidulous drink, and is used as the basis of that intoxicating beverage calledkimmiz. The most common and most refreshing drink which they offer to the weary and over-heated traveller in the forenoon is buttermilk, or sour curds and water; and, indeed, a modification of this, with some other simple sherbets, are the only liquors presented at their meals.
“Such are the wooden houses of the Turcomans, one of which just makes a camel’s load. There are poorer ones, of a less artificial construction, the framework of which is formed of reeds.
“The encampment is generally square, enclosing an open space, or forming a broad street, the houses being ranged on either side, with their doors towards each other. At these may always be seen the most picturesque groups, occupied with their various domestic duties, or smoking their simple woodencalleeoons. The more important encampments are surrounded by a fence of reeds, which serve to protect the flocks from petty thefts.”
It is now our place to inquire how the Turcomans occupy their time. We have already described them as a pastoral and nomadic people; and, under ordinary circumstances, their employment consists in looking after their flocks. In a few of the more fertile oases they have habitations, or rather camps, of a more permanent character, where they cultivate a little corn or barley, to supply them with the material for bread; but these settlements, if they deserve the name, are only exceptional; and are used chiefly as a kind of head-quarters, where the women and property are kept, while the men themselves are absent on their thieving expeditions. More generally their herds are kept on the move, and are driven from place to place at short intervals of a few weeks or even days. The striking and pitching of their tents gives them employment; to which is added that of milking the cattle, and making the cheese and butter. The women, moreover, fill up their idle hours in weaving the coarse blankets, or “numuds,” in plaiting mats, and manufacturing various articles of dress or household use. The more costly parts of their costume, however, are not of native manufacture: these are obtained by trade. The men alone look after the camels and horses, taking special care of the latter.
Their flocks present a considerable variety of species. Besides horses, cattle, and sheep, they own many camels, and they have no less than three distinct varieties of this valuable animal in their possession,—the dromedary with two humps, and the common camel. The third sort is a cross breed—or “mule”—between these two. The dromedary is slightly made, and swifter than either of the others, but it is not so powerful as either; and being inferior as a beast of burden, is least cared for by the Turcomans. The one-humped camel is in more general use, and a good one will carry a load of six or seven hundred pounds with ease. The mule camel is more powerful than either of its parents, and also more docile and capable of greater endurance. It grows to a very large size, but is low in proportion to its bulk, with stout, bony legs, and a large quantity of coarse, shaggy hair on its haunch, shoulders, neck, and even on the crown of its head, which gives it a strange, somewhat fantastic appearance. Its colour varies from light grey to brown, though it is as often nearly black. This kind of camel will carry a load of from eight hundred to a thousand pounds.
The Turcoman sheep are of the large-tailed breed,—their tails often attaining enormous dimensions. This variety of sheep is a true denizen of the desert, the fat tail being unquestionably a provision of nature against seasons of hunger,—just as in the single protuberance, or “hump,” upon the camel.
The horse of the Turcoman is the animal upon which he sets most value. The breed possessed by him is celebrated over all Eastern Asia, as that of the Arab is in the West. They cannot be regarded, however, as handsome horses, according to the true standard of “horse beauty;” but the Turcoman cares less for this than for other good qualities. In point of speed and endurance they are not excelled, if equalled, by the horses of any other country.
Their size is that of the common horse, but they are very different in make. Their bodies are long in proportion to the bulk of carcass; and they do not appear to possess sufficient compactness of frame. Their legs are also long, generally falling off in muscular development below the knee-joint; and they would appear to an English jockey too narrow in the counter. They have also long necks, with large heavy heads. These are the points which are generally observed in the Turcoman horses; but it is to be remarked, that it is only when in an under-condition they look so ungraceful; and in this condition their owners are accustomed to keep them, especially when they have any very heavy service to perform. Feeding produces a better shape, and brings them much nearer to the look of a well-bred English horse.
Their powers of endurance are indeed, almost incredible: when trained for a chappow, or plundering expedition, they will carry their rider and provisions for seven or eight days together, at the rate of twenty or even thirty fursungs—that is, from eighty to one hundred miles—a day. Their mode of training is more like that of our pugilistic and pedestrian performers, than that adopted for race-horses. When any expedition of great length, and requiring the exertion of much speed, is in contemplation, they commence by running their horses every day for many miles together; they feed them sparingly on barley alone, and pile numuds upon them at night to sweat them, until every particle of fat has been removed, and the flesh becomes hard and tendonous. Of this they judge by the feel of the muscles, particularly on the crest, at the back of the neck, and on the haunches; and when these are sufficiently firm and hard, they say in praise of the animal, that “his flesh is marble.” After this sort of training, the horse will proceed with expedition and perseverance, for almost any length of time, without either falling off in condition or knocking up, while horses that set out fat seldom survive. They are taught a quick walk, a light trot, or a sort of amble, which carries the rider on easily, at the rate of six miles an hour; but they will also go at a round canter, or gallop, for forty or fifty miles, without ever drawing bridle or showing the least symptom of fatigue. Theiryaboos, or galloways, and large ponies are fully as remarkable, if not superior, to their horses, in their power of sustaining fatigue; they are stout, compact, spirited beasts, without the fine blood of the larger breeds, but more within the reach of the poorer classes, and consequently used in by far greater numbers than the superior and more expensive horses.
“It is a common practice of the Turcomans to teach their horses to fight with their heels, and thus assist their masters in the time of action. At the will of their riders they will run at and lay hold with their teeth of whatever man or animal may be before them. This acquirement is useful in the day of battle and plunder, for catching prisoners and stray cattle, but it at the same time renders them vicious and dangerous to be handled.”
In addition to the flocks and herds, the Turcomans possess a breed of very large fierce dogs, to assist them in keeping their cattle. These are also necessary as watch-dogs, to protect the camp from thieves as well as more dangerous enemies to their peace; and so well-trained are those faithful creatures, that it would be impossible for either friend or enemy to approach a Turcoman camp without the inmates being forewarned in time. Two or three of these dogs may always be seen lying by the entrance of each tent; and throughout the night several others keep sentry at the approaches to the camp.
Other breeds of dogs owned by them are used for hunting,—for these wild wanderers sometimes devote their hours to the chase. They have two sorts,—a smooth-skinned dog, half hound half pointer, that hunts chiefly by the scent; and a greyhound, of great swiftness, with a coat of long, silky hair, which they make use of in coursing,—hares and antelopes being their game.
They have a mode of hunting—also practised by the Persians—which is peculiar. It should rather be termed hawking than hunting, as a hawk is employed for the purpose. It is a species of falcon denominated “goork,” and is trained not only to dash at small game, such as partridges and bustards, but upon antelopes and even the wild ass that is found in plenty upon the plains of Turcomania. You will wonder how a bird, not larger than the common falcon, could capture such game as this but it will appear simple enough when the method has been explained. The “goork” is trained to fly at the quadruped, and fix its claws in one particular place,—that is, upon the frontlet, just between the eyes. When thus attached, the bird, instead of closing its wings and remaining at rest, keeps them constantly in motion, flapping them over the eyes of the quadruped. This it does, no doubt, to enable it to retain its perch; while the unfortunate animal, thus assailed, knows not in what direction to run, and is soon overtaken by the pursuing sportsmen, and either speared or shot with the bow and arrow.
Wild boars are frequently hunted by the Turcomans; and this, like everything else with these rude centaurs, is performed on horseback. The bow and arrow is but a poor weapon when employed against the thick, tough hide of the Hyrcanian boar (for he is literally the Hyrcanian boar), and of course the matchlock would be equally ineffective. How, then, does the Turcoman sportsman manage to bag this bristly game? With all the ease in the world. It costs him only the effort of galloping his horse close up to the side of the boar after he has been brought to by the dogs, and then suddenly wheeling the steed. The latter, well-trained to the task, without further prompting, goes through the rest of the performance, which consists in administering to the boar such a slap with his iron-shod heel, as to prostrate the porcine quadruped, often killing it on the instant!
Such employments and such diversions occupy only a small portion of the Turcoman’s tune. He follows another calling of a far less creditable character, which unfortunately he regards as the most honourable occupation of his life. This is the calling of the robber. His pastoral pursuits are matters of only secondary consideration. He only looks to them as a means of supplying his daily wants,—his food and the more necessary portion of his clothing; but he has other wants that may be deemed luxuries. He requires to keep up his stock of horses and camels, and wishes to increase them. He needs costly gear for his horse, and costly garments for himself—and he is desirous of being possessed of fine weapons, such as spears, swords, bows, matchlocks, daggers, and pistols. His most effective weapons are the spear and sword, and these are the kinds he chiefly uses.
His spear consists of a steel head with four flutes, and edges very sharp, fixed upon a slender shaft of from eight to ten feet in length. In using it he couches it under the left arm, and directs it with the right hand, either; straightforward, or to the right or left; if to the right, the butt of the shaft lies across the hinder part of the saddle; if to the left, the forepart of the spear rests on the horse’s neck. The Turcomans manage their horses with the left hand, but most of these are so well broken as to obey the movement of the knee, or the impulse of the body. When close to their object, they frequently grasp the spear with both hands, to give greater effect to the thrust. The horse, spurred to the full speed of a charge, in this way, offers an attack no doubt very formidable in appearance, but perhaps less really dangerous than the other, in which success depends so greatly on skill and address. The Turcomans are all sufficiently dexterous with the sword, which is almost universally formed in the curved Persian fashion, and very sharp; they also wear a dagger at the waist-belt. Firearms are as yet little in use among them; they possess a few, taken from the travellers they have plundered, and procure a few more occasionally from the Russians by the way of Bokara. Some use bows and arrows, but they are by no means so dexterous as their ancestors were in the handling of those weapons.
Mounted, then, upon his matchless steed, and armed with spear and sword, the Turcoman goes forth to practise his favourite profession,—that of plunder. He does not go alone, nor with a small number of his comrades, either. The number depends altogether on the distance or danger of the expedition; and where these are considered great, a troop of five hundred, or even a thousand, usually proceed together upon their errand.
You will be inquiring to what point they direct themselves,—east, west, north, or south? That altogether depends upon who may be their enemies for the time, for along with their desire for booty, there is also mixed up something like a sentiment of hostility. In this respect, however, the Turcoman is a true Ishmaelite, and in lack of other victim he will not hesitate to plunder the people of a kindred race. Indeed, several of the Turcoman tribes have long been at war with one another; and their animosity is quite as deadly among themselves as when directed against strangers to their race. Thebutt, however, of most of the Turcoman expeditions is the northern part of Persia,—Korassan in particular. It is into this province that most of their great forays are directed, either against the peaceful citizens of the Persian towns and villages, or as often against the merchant caravans that are constantly passing between Teheran and the cities of the east,—Mushed, Balkh, Bokara, Herat, and Kelat. I have already stated that these forays are pushed far into the interior of Persia; and the fact of Persia permitting such a state of things to continue will perhaps surprise you; but you would not be surprised were you better acquainted with the condition of that kingdom. From historic associations, you believe Persia to be a powerful nation; and so it once was, both powerful and prosperous. That day is past; and at the present hour, this decaying monarchy is not only powerless to maintain order within its own borders, but is even threatened with annihilation from those very nomad races that have so often given laws to the great empires of Asia. Even at this moment, the more powerful Tartar Khans turn a longing look towards the tottering throne of Nadir Shah; and he of Khiva has more than once made a feint at invasion. But the subject is too extensive to be discussed here. It is only introduced to explain with what facility a few hundreds of Turcoman robbers can enter and harass the land. We find a parallel in many other parts of the world,—old as well as new. In the latter, the northern provinces of Mexico, and the southern countries of La Plata and Paraguay, are in just such a condition: the weak, worn-out descendants of the Spanish conquerors on one side, well representing the remnants of the race of Nadir Shah; while, on the other, the Turcoman is type enough of the Red Indian. The comparison, however, is not just to the latter. He, at least, is possessed of courage and prowess; while the Turcoman, notwithstanding his propensities for plunder, and the bloodthirsty ferocity of his character, is as arrant a coward as ever carried lance. Even the Persian can cope with him, when fairly matched; and the merchant caravans,—which are usually made up of true Turks, and other races possessing a little “pluck,” are never attacked, unless when outnumbered in the ratio of three to one.
For all this, the whole northern portion of the Persian kingdom is left to the mercy of these desert-robbers. The towns and villages have each their large fortress, into which the people retire whenever the plunderers make their appearance, and there dwell till the latter have ridden away,—driving off their flocks and herds to the desert fastnesses. Even the poor farmer is obliged to build a fortress in the middle of his fields, to which he may retire upon the occasion of any sudden alarm, and his labourers till the ground with their swords by their sides, and their matchlocks lying near!
These field fortresses of Korassan are altogether so curious, both as to construction and purpose, that we cannot pass them without a word of description. They are usually placed in some conspicuous place, at a convenient distance from all parts of the cultivated tract. They are built of mud, and raised to a height of fifteen or twenty feet, of a circular form,—bearing some resemblance to the well-known round towers of Ireland. A small aperture is left open at the bottom, through which those seeking shelter may just squeeze their bodies, and this being barricaded inside, the defence is complete. From the top—which can be reached easily on the inside—the farmer and his labourers can use their matchlocks with effect; but they are never called upon to do so,—as the cowardly freebooter takes good care to give the mud tower a wide birth. He has no weapons by which he might assail it; and, moreover, he has no time for sieges: since an hour’s delay might bring him into danger from the force that is fast approaching. His only thought is to keep on his course, and sweep off such cattle, or make prisoners of such people as he may chance to find unwarned and unarmed. Now and then he ventures upon an attack—where there is much booty to tempt him, and but a weak force to defend it. His enemies,—the hated “Kuzzilbashes,” as he calls the Persians,—if defeated, have no mercy to expect from him. All who resist are killed upon the spot, and often torture is the mode of their death; but if they can be made prisoners, the desert-robber prefers letting them live, as a captive is to him a more valuable consideration than the death of an enemy. His prisoner, once secured, knows tolerably well what is to follow. The first thing the Turcoman does is to bind the victim’s hands securely behind his back; he then puts a long halter around his neck, attaching the other end of it to the tail of his horse, and in this fashion the homeward march commences. If the poor pedestrian does not keep pace with the horse, he knows what he may expect,—to be dragged at intervals along the ground, and perhaps torn to pieces upon the rocks. With this horrid fate before his fancy, he makes efforts almost superhuman to keep pace with the troop of his inhuman captors: though well aware that they are leading him off into a hopeless bondage.
At night, his feet are also tied; and, thrown down upon the earth, he is covered with a coarse “numud.” Do not fancy that this is done to screen him from the cold: the object is very different indeed. The numud is placed over him in order that two of his captors may sleep upon its edges—one on each side of him—thus holding him down, and frustrating any chance of escape.
On arriving at the robber-camp, the captive is not kept long in suspense as to his future fate. His owner—for he is now in reality a slave—wants a new word, or a piece of silken cloth, or a camel, or some other article of luxury. That he can obtain either at Khiva or Bokara, in exchange for his slave; and therefore the new captive—or captives, as the chance may be—is marched off to the ready market. This is no isolated nor rare incident. It is one of everyday occurrence; and it is a noted fact, that of the three hundred thousand people who constitute the subjects of the Khivan Khan, nearly one half are Persian slaves obtained from the robbers of Turcomania!
The political organisation of the Turcomans is of the patriarchal character. From necessity they dwell in small communities that are termed “teers,” the literal signification of which is “arrows,”—though for what reason they are so styled does not appear. Perhaps it is on account of the rapidity of their movements: for, in hostile excursions, or moving from place to place, they proceed with a celerity that may be compared to arrows.
Over each tribe or teer there is a chief, similar to the “sheik” of the Arab tribes,—and indeed, many of their customs offer a close analogy to those of the wandering Bedouins of Arabia and Egypt, and the Kabyles of Morocco and the Algerine provinces. The circumstances of life—almost alike to both—could not fail to produce many striking resemblances.
The Turcoman tribes, as already observed, frequently go to war with each other, but they oftener unite to rob the common enemy,—the caravan or the Persian village. In these mere plundering expeditions they go in such numbers as the case may require; but when called forth to take side in anything like a national war, they can muster to the strength of many thousands; and then indeed, they become terrible,—even to the most potent sovereigns of Central Asia, by whom much diplomacy is employed to enlist them on one side or the other. It matters little to them what the cause be,—he who can promise them the largest booty in cattle or slaves is sure to have the help of their spears and swords.
The Turcomans are not Pagans,—that is, they are not professedly so,—though, for all the regard which they pay to religious observances, they might as well be termed true Infidels. They profess a religion, however, and that is Mohametanism in its worst and most bigoted form,—the “Sunnite.” The Persians, as is well-known, hold the milder Sheean doctrines; and as the votaries of the two, in most countries where both are practised, cordially hate each other, so it is between Turcomans and Persians. The former even scorn the Persian creed, calling its followers “Infidel” dogs, orKuzzilbashes; and this bigoted rancour gives them a sort of plausible excuse for the hostile attitude which they hold towards them.
Taking them upon the whole, the Turcomans may be looked upon as true savages,—savages dressed insilkinstead of inskins.
Chapter Ten.The Ottomacs, or Dirt-Eaters.On the banks of the Orinoco, a short distance above the point where that mighty river makes its second great sweep to the eastward, dwells a remarkable people,—a tribe of savages that, even among savages, are remarkable for many peculiar and singular customs. These are theOttomacs.They have been long known,—and by the narratives of the early Spanish missionaries, rendered notorious,—on account of some curious habits; but although the missionaries have resided among them, and endeavoured to bring them within “sound of the bell,” their efforts have met with a very partial and temporary success; and at this present hour, the Ottomacs are as savage in their habits; and as singular in their customs, as they were in the days of Columbus.The Ottomacs are neither a stunted nor yet a weak race of men. Their bodies are strong, and their arms and limbs stout and muscular; but they are remarkably ill-featured, with an expression of countenance habitually stern and vindictive.Their costume is easily described, or rather cannot bedescribedat all, since they have none. Both, sexes go entirely naked,—if we except a little belt of three or four inches in width, made from cotton or the bark of trees, and called theguayuco, which they wear around the waist,—but even this is worn from no motives of modesty.What they regard in the light of a costume is a coat of paint, and about this they are as nice and particular as a Parisian dandy. Talk about “blooming up” a fadedbellefor the ballroom, or the time spent by an exquisite in adjusting the tie of his cravat! these are trifles when compared with the lengthy and elaborate toilette of an Ottomac lady or gentleman.The greater part of a day is often spent by them in a single dressing, with one or two helpers to assist in the operation; and this is not atattooingprocess, intended to last for a lifetime, but a costume certain to be disfigured, or entirely washed off, at the first exposure to a heavy shower of rain. Add to this, that the pigments which are used for the purpose are by no means easily obtained: the vegetable substances which furnish them are scarce in the Ottomac country; and it costs one of these Indians the produce of several days of his labour to purchase sufficient paint to give his whole skin a single “coat.” For this reason the Ottomac paints his body only on grand occasions,—contenting himself at ordinary times with merely staining his face and hair.When an Ottomac wishes to appear in “full dress” he first gives himself a “priming” of red. This consists of the dye called “annotto,” which is obtained from the fruit pulp of theBixa orellana, and which the Indians knew how to prepare previous to their intercourse with Europeans. Over this red ground is then formed a lattice-work of lines of black, with a dot in the centre of every little square or diamond. The black dye is the “caruto,” also a vegetable pigment, obtained from theGenipa Americana. If the gentleman be rich enough to possess a little “chica” which is a beautiful lake-coloured red,—also the produce of a plant,—theBignoni, chica, he will then feel all the ecstatic delight of a fashionable dandy who possesses a good wardrobe; and, with half a pound of turtle-oil rubbed into his long black tresses, he will regard himself as dressed “within an inch of his life.” It is not always, however, that he can afford thechica,—for it is one of the costliest materials of which a South-American savage can manufacture his suit.The Ottomac takes far less trouble in the building of his house. Very often he builds none; but when he wishes to guard his body from the rays of the sun, or the periodical rains, he constructs him a slight edifice—a mere hut—out of saplings or bamboos, with a thatch of palm-leaves.His arms consist of the universal bow and arrows, which he manages with much dexterity; and he has also a harpoon which he employs in killing the manatee and the alligator. He has, besides, several other weapons, to aid him in the chase and fishing,—the latter of which forms his principal employment as well as his chief source of subsistence.The Ottomac belongs to one of those tribes of Indians termed by the Spanish missionariesIndios andantes, that is “wandering,” or “vagabond Indians,” who instead of remaining in fixed and permanent villages, roam about from place to place, as necessity or inclination dictates. Perhaps this arises from the peculiarity of the country which they inhabit: for theIndios andantesdo not live in the thick forests, but upon vast treeless savannas, which stretch along the Orinoco above its great bend. In these tracts the “juvia” trees (bertholletiaandlecythys), which produce the delicious “Brazil-nuts”—and other plants that supply the savage spontaneously with food, are sparsely found; and as the savannas are annually inundated for several months, the Ottomac is forced, whether he will or no, to shift his quarters and try for subsistence elsewhere. When the inundations have subsided and the waters become settled enough to permit of fishing, the Ottomac “winter” is over, and he can obtain food in plenty from the alligators, the manatees, the turtles, thetoninasor dolphins, and other large fish that frequent the great stream upon which he dwells. Of these themanateeis the most important in the eyes of the Ottomac—as it is the largest in size, and consequently furnishes him with the greatest amount of meat.This singular semi-cetaceous creature is almost too well-known to require description. It is found in nearly all the large rivers of tropical America, where it feeds upon the grass and aquatic plants growing along their banks. It is known by various names, according to the place and people. The Spaniards call itvaca marina, or “sea-cow,” and the Portuguesepeixe hoi, or “fish-ox,”—both being appellations equally inappropriate, and having their origin in a slight resemblance which there exists between the animal’s “countenance” and that of an ox.TheWest Indianname is the one we though the true orthography ismanati, notmanatee, since the word is of Indian origin. Some writers deny this, alleging that it is a derivative from the Spanish word “mano,” a hand, signifying, therefore, the fish with hands,—in allusion to the rudimentary hands which form one of its distinguishing characteristics. This is the account of the historian Oviedo, but another Spanish missionary, Father Gili, offers a more correct explanation of the name,—in fact, he proves, what is neither more nor less than the simple truth, that “manati” was the name given to this animal by the natives of Hayti and Cuba,—where a species is also found,—and the word has no reference whatever to the “hands” of the creature. The resemblance to the Spanish word which should signify “handed,” is merely an accidental circumstance; and, as the acute Humboldt very justly remarks, according to the genius of the Spanish language, the word thus applied would have been writtenmanudo, ormanon, and notmanati.The Indians have almost as many different names for this creature as there are rivers in which it is found; but its appellation in the “lingo ageral” of the great Amazon valley, is “juarua.” Among the Ottomacs it is called the “apoia.” It may be safely affirmed that there are several species of this amphibious animal in the rivers of tropical America; and possibly no one of them is identical with that of the West Indies. All have hitherto been regarded as belonging to the same species, and described under the scientific title ofManatus Americanus—a name given to the American manati, to distinguish it from the “lamantin” of Africa, and the “dugong” of the East-Indian seas. But the West-Indian species appears to have certain characteristic differences, which shows that it is a separate one, or, at all events, a variety. It is of much larger size than those of the South-American rivers generally are—though there also a large variety is found, but much rarer than those commonly captured by the fishermen. The West-Indian manati has nails well developed upon the outer edge of its fins, or forearms; while those on the other kinds are either not seen at all, or only in a very rudimentary state. That there are different species, may be deduced from the accounts of the natives, who employ themselves in its capture: and the observations of such people are usually more trustworthy than the speculations of learned anatomists. The Amazon fishermen all agree in the belief that there are three kinds of manati in the Amazon and its numerous tributaries, that not only differ greatly in size—from seven to twenty feet long—and in weight, from four hundred to two thousand pounds,—but also in the colour of their skin, and the shape of their tails and fins. The species found in the Orinoco, and called “apoia” by the Ottomacs, is usually about twelve feet in length, and weighs from five hundred to eight hundred pounds; but now and then a much larger individual is captured, perhaps owing to greater age, or other accidental circumstance. Humboldt heard of one that weighed eight thousand pounds; and the French naturalist D’Orbigny speaks of one killed in the Bolivian waters of the Amazon that was twenty feet in length. This size is often attained by theManatus Americanusof Cuba and Hayti.The manati is shaped somewhat like a large seal, and has certain resemblances to a fish. Its body is of an oval oblong, with a large, flat, rounded tail, set horizontally, and which serves as a rudder to direct its course in the water. Just behind its shoulders appear, instead of fins, a pair of flippers, which have a certain resemblance to hands set on to the body without arms. Of these it avails itself, when creeping out against the bank, and the female also uses them in carrying her young. The mammae (for it must be remembered that this creature is a mammiferous animal) are placed just below and behind the flippers. The muzzle is blunt, with thick lips,—the upper projecting several inches beyond the lower, and covered with a delicate epidermis: showing evidently that it avails itself of this prominence—which possesses a keen sense of touch—just as the elephant of his proboscis. The lips are covered with bristles, or beard, which impart a kind of human-like expression to the animal’s countenance,—a circumstance more observable in the “dugongs” of the Oriental waters. “Woman fish,” too, these have been called, and no doubt such creatures, along with the seals and walruses, have given rise to many a story of sirens and mermaids. The “cow-face,” however, from which the manati obtains its Spanish and Portuguese epithets, is the most characteristic; and in its food we find a still greater analogy to the bovine quadruped with which it is brought in comparison. Beyond this the resemblance ceases. The body is that of a seal; but instead of being covered with hair, as the cetaceous animal, the manati has a smooth skin that resembles india-rubber more than anything else. A few short hairs are set here and there, but they are scarce observable. The colour of the manati is that of lead, with a few mottlings of a pinkish-white hue upon the belly; but in this respect there is no uniformity. Some are seen with the whole under-parts of a uniform cream colour.The lungs of this animal present a peculiarity worthy of being noted. They are very voluminous,—being sometimes three feet in length, and of such a porous and elastic nature as to be capable of immense extension. When blown out, they present the appearance of great swimming bladders; and it is by means of this capacity for containing air that the manati is enabled to remain so long under water,—though, like the truecetaceae, it requires to come at intervals to the surface to obtain breath.The flesh of the manati is eaten by all the tribes of Indians who can procure it,—though by some it is more highly esteemed than by others. It was once much relished in the colonial settlements of Guiana and the West Indies, and formed a considerable article of commerce; but in these quarters manatis have grown scarce,—from the incessant persecution of the fishermen. The flesh has been deemed unwholesome by some, and apt to produce fevers; but this is not the general opinion. It has a greater resemblance to pork than beef,—though it be the flesh of a cow,—and is very savoury when fresh, though neither is it bad eating when salted or dried in the sun. In this way it will keep for several months; and it has always been a stock article with the monks of the South-American missions,—who, in spite of its mammiferous character, find it convenient, during the days of Lent, to regard it as a fish! The skin of the manati is of exceeding thickness,—on the back an inch and a half at least, though it becomes thinner as it approaches the under-parts of the body. It is cut into slips which serve various purposes, as for shields, cordage, and whips. “These whips of manati leather,” Bays Humboldt, “are a cruel instrument of punishment for the unhappy slaves, and even for the Indians of the missions, though, according to the laws, the latter ought to be treated as freemen.”Another valuable commodity obtained from this animal is oil, known in the missions as manati-butter (manteca de manati). This is produced by the layer of pure fat, of an inch and a half in thickness, which, lying immediately under the skin, envelops the whole body of the animal. The oil is used for lamps in the mission churches; but among the Indians themselves it is also employed in thecuisine,—as it has not that fetid smell peculiar to the oil of whales and salt-water cetaceae.The food of the manati is grass exclusively, which it finds on the banks of the lakes and rivers it frequents. Of this it will eat an enormous quantity; and its usual time of browsing is at night,—though this habit may have arisen from its observance of the fact, that night is the safest time to approach the shore. In those places, where is has been left undisturbed, it may be often seen browsing by day.I have been thus particular in my account of this animal, because it is more nearly connected with the history of Ottomac habits than perhaps that of any other tribe of South-American Indians,—the Guamos alone excepted, who may themselves be regarded as merely a branch of the Ottomac family. Though, as already remarked, all the tribes who dwell upon manati rivers pursue this creature and feed upon its flesh, yet in no other part of South America is this species of fishery so extensively or so dexterously carried on as among the Ottomacs and Guamos,—the reason being, that, amidst the great grassy savannas which characterise the Ottomac country, there are numerous streams and lagoons that are the favourite haunts of this herbivorous animal. In one river in particular, so great a number are found that it has been distinguished by the appellation of theRio de Manatis(river of manatis). The manati, when undisturbed, is gregarious in its habits, going in troops (or “herds,” if we preserve the analogy) of greater or less numbers, and keeping the young “calves” in the centre, which the mothers guard with the tenderest affection. So attached are the parents to their young, that if the calf be taken, the mother can be easily approached; and the devotion is reciprocated on the filial side; since in cases where the mother has been captured and dragged ashore, the young one has often been known to follow the lifeless body up to the very bank!As the manati plays such an important part in the domestic economy of the Ottomacs, of course the capturing of this animal is carried on upon the grandest scale among these people, and, like the “harvest of turtle-eggs,” hereafter to be described, the manati fishery has its particularseason. Some writers have erroneously stated this season as being the period of inundation, and when the water is at its maximum height. This is quite contrary to the truth; since that period, both on the Amazon and Orinoco rivers, is just the time when all kinds of fishing is difficult and precarious. Then is the true winter,—the “blue months” of the South-American river Indians; and it is then, as will presently be seen, that the Ottomac comes nearest the point of starvation,—which he approaches every year of his life.There are manati and other kinds of fish taken at all times of the year; but the true season of the manati-fishing is when the waters of the great flood have considerably subsided, and are still continuing to diminish rapidly. When the inundation is at its height, the manati passes out of the channel current of the great river, and in search of grass it finds its way into the lakes and surrounding marshes, remaining there to browse along their banks. When the flood is rapidly passing away from it, it begins to find itself a “little out of its element,” and just then is the time when it is most easily captured.Sometimes the Indians assemble in a body with their canoes, forming a large fleet; and, proceeding to the best haunts of the “cow-fish,” carry on the fishery in a wholesale manner. The monks of the missions also head thetametribes on these expeditions,—as they do when collecting the eggs of the turtle,—and a regular systematic course is carried on under the eye of discipline and authority. A camp is formed at some convenient place on the shore. Scaffolds are erected for sun-drying the flesh and skins; and vessels and other utensils brought upon the ground to render the fat into oil. The manatis that have been captured are all brought in the canoes to this central point, and delivered up to be “flensed,” cured, and cooked. There is the usual assemblage of small traders from Angostura and other ports on the lower Orinoco, who come to barter their Indian trinkets for themanteca de manatiin the same manner as it will presently be seen they trade for themanteca de tortugas. I need not add that this is a season of joy and festivity, like the wine-gatherings and harvest-homes of the European peasantry.The mode of capturing the manati is very similar to that employed by the Esquimaux in taking the seal, and which has been elsewhere described. There is not much danger in the fishery, for no creature could be more harmless and inoffensive than this. It makes not the slightest attempt either at defence or retaliation,—though the accident sometimes occurs of a canoe being swamped or drawn under water,—but this is nothing to the Ottomac Indian, who is almost as amphibious as the manati itself.At the proper hour the fisherman starts off in search of the manati. His fishing-boat is a canoe hollowed from a single trunk, of that kind usually styled a “dugout.” On perceiving the cow-fish resting upon the surface of the water, the Ottomac paddles towards it, observing the greatest caution; for although the organs of sight and hearing in this animal are, externally, but very little developed, it both hears and sees well; and the slightest suspicious noise would be a signal for it to dive under, and of course escape.When near enough to insure a good aim, the Ottomac hurls his harpoon into the animal’s body; which, after piercing the thick hide, sticks fast. To this harpoon a cord is attached, with a float, and the float remaining above water indicates the direction in which the wounded animal now endeavours to get off. When it is tired of struggling, the Indian regains the cord; and taking it in, hand over hand, draws up his canoe to the side of the fish. If it be still too lively, he repeatedly strikes it with a spear; but he does not aim to kill it outright until he has got it “aboard.” Once there, he ends the creature’s existence by driving a wooden plug into its nostrils, which in a moment deprives it of life.The Ottomac now prepares himself to transport the carcass to his home; or, if fishing in company, to the common rendezvous. Perhaps he has some distance to take it, and against a current; and he finds it inconvenient to tow such a heavy and cumbrous article. To remedy this inconvenience, he adopts the expedient already mentioned, of placing the carcass in his canoe. But how does he get it there? How can a single Indian of ordinary strength raise a weight of a thousand pounds out of the water, and lift it over the gunwale of his unsteady craft? It is in this that he exhibits great cunning and address: for instead of raising the carcass above the canoe, he sinks the canoe below the carcass, by first filling the vessel nearly full of water; and then, after he has got his freight aboard, he bales out the water with his gourd-shell. He at length succeeds in adjusting his load, and then paddles homeward with his prize.On arriving at his village,—if it be to the village he takes it,—he is assisted in transporting the load by others of his tribe; but he does not carry it to his own house,—for the Ottomacs are true socialists, and the produce both of the chase and the fishery is the common property of all. The chief of the village, seated in front of his hut, receives all that is brought home, and distributes it out to the various heads of families,—giving to each in proportion to the number of mouths that are to be fed.The manati is flayed,—its thick hide, as already observed, serving for many useful purposes; the strata of fat, or “blubber,” which lies beneath is removed, to be converted into oil; and finally, the flesh, which is esteemed equal to pork, both in delicacy and flavour, is cut into thin slices, either to be broiled and eaten at the time, or to be preserved for a future occasion, not by salt, of which the Ottomac is entirely ignorant, but by drying in the sun and smoking over a slow fire. Fish and the flesh of the alligator are similarly “cured;” and when the process is carefully done, both will keep for months.The alligator is captured in various ways: sometimes by a baited hook with a strong cord attached,—sometimes he is killed by a stab of the harpoon spear, and not unfrequently is he taken by a noose slipped over his paw, the Ottomac diving fearlessly under him and adjusting the snare.Some of the Indian tribes will not eat the musky flesh of the alligator; but the Ottomacs are not thus particular. Indeed, these people refuse scarce any article of food, however nasty or disagreeable; and it is a saying among their neighbours—the Indians of other tribes—that “nothing is too loathsome for the stomach of an Ottomac.”Perhaps the saying will be considered as perfectly true when we come to describe a species of food which these people eat, and which, for a long time, has rendered them famous—or rather infamous—under the appellation of “dirt-eaters.” Of them it may literally be said that they “eat dirt,” for such, in reality, is one of their customs.This singular practice is chiefly resorted to during those months in the year when the rivers swell to their greatest height, and continue full. At this time all fishing ceases, and the Ottomac finds it difficult to obtain a sufficiency of food. To make up for the deficiency, he fills his stomach with a kind of unctuous clay, which he has already stored up for the emergency, and of which he eats about a pound per diem! It does not constitute his sole diet, but often for several days together it is the only food which passes his lips! There is nothing nourishing in it,—that has been proved by analysis. It merelyfillsthe belly,—producing a satiety, or, at least, giving some sort of relief from the pangs of hunger. Nor has it been observed that the Ottomac grows thin or unhealthy on this unnatural viand: on the contrary, he is one of the most robust and healthy of American Indians.The earth which the Ottomac eats goes by the name ofpoya. He does not eat clay of every kind: only a peculiar sort which he finds upon the banks of streams. It is soft and smooth to the touch, and unctuous, like putty. In its natural state it is of a yellowish-grey colour; but, when hardened before the fire, it assumes a tinge of red, owing to the oxide of iron which is in it.It was for a long time believed that the Ottomac mixed this clay with cassava and turtle-oil, or some other sort of nutritive substance. Even Father Gumilla—who was credulous enough to believe almost anything—could not “swallow” the story of the clay in its natural state, but believed that it was prepared with some combination of farinha or fat. This, however, is not the case. It is a pure earth, containing (according to the analysis of Vauquelin) silex and alumina, with three or four per cent of lime!This clay the Ottomac stores up, forming it into balls of several inches in diameter; which; being slightly hardened before the fire, he builds into little pyramids, just as cannon-balls are piled in an arsenal or fortress. When the Ottomac wishes to eat of thepoya, he softens one of the balls by wetting it; and then, scraping off as much as he may require for his meal, returns thepoyato its place on the pyramid.The dirt-eating does not entirely end with the falling of the waters. The practice has begot a craving for it; and the Ottomac is not contented without a littlepoya, even when more nutritious food may be obtained in abundance.This habit of eating earth is not exclusively Ottomac. Other kindred tribes indulge in it, though not to so great an extent; and we find the same unnatural practice among the savages of New Caledonia and the Indian archipelago. It is also common on the west coast of Africa. Humboldt believed it to be exclusively a tropical habit. In this the great philosopher was in error, since it is known to be practised by some tribes of northern Indians on the frigid banks of the Mackenzie River.When the floods subside, as already stated, the Ottomac lives better. Then he can obtain both fish and turtles in abundance. The former he captures, both with hooks and nets, or shoots with his arrows, when they rise near the surface.The turtles of the Ottomac rivers are of two kinds thearauandterecay. The former is the one most sought after, as being by far the largest. It is nearly a yard across the back, and weighs from fifty to a hundred pounds. It is a shy creature, and would be difficult to capture, were it not for a habit it has of raising its head above the surface of the water, and thus exposing the soft part of its throat to the Indian’s arrow. Even then an arrow might fail to kill it; but the Ottomac takes care to have the point well coated withcurarepoison, which in a few seconds does its work, and secures the death of the victim.Theterecayis taken in a different and still more ingenious manner. This species, floating along the surface, or even when lying still, presents no mark at which a shaft can be aimed with the slightest chance of success. The sharpest arrow would glance off its flat shelly back as from a surface of steel. In order, therefore, to reach the vitals of his victim, the Indian adopts an expedient, in which he exhibits a dexterity and skill that are truly remarkable.He aims his shaft, not at the turtle, but up into the air, describing by its course a parabolic curve, and so calculating its velocity and direction that it will drop perpendicularly, point foremost, upon the back of the unsuspecting swimmer, and pierce through the shell right into the vital veins of its body!It is rare that an Indian will fail in hitting such a mark; and, both on the Orinoco and Amazon, thousands of turtles are obtained in this manner.The great season of Ottomac festivity and rejoicing, however, is that of thecosecha de tortugas, or “turtle-crop.” As has been already observed, in relation to the manati fishery, it is to him what the harvest-home is to the nations of northern Europe, or the wine-gathering to those of the south; for this is more truly the character of thecosecha. It is then that he is enabled, not only to procure a supply of turtle-oil with which to lubricate his hair and skin, but he obtains enough of this delicious grease wherewith to fry his dried slices of manati and a surplus for sale to the turtle-traders from the Lower Orinoco. In this petty commerce no coin is required; harpoon spears, and arrow-heads of iron, rude knives, and hatchets; but, above all, a few cakes ofannotto,chica, andcaruto, are bartered in exchange for the turtle-oil. The thick hide of the manati,—for making slave-whips,—the spotted skin of the jaguar, and some other pelts which the chase produces, are also items of his export trade.The pigments above mentioned have already been procured by the trader, as theexportarticles of commerce of some other tribe.The turtle-oil is the product of the eggs of the larger species,—thearau,—known simply by the nametortuga, or turtle. The eggs of theterecaywould serve equally as well; but, from a difference in the habit of this animal, its eggs cannot be obtained in sufficient quantity for oil-making. There is no such thing as a grand “cosecha,” or crop of them—for the creature is not gregarious, like its congener, but each female makes her nest apart from the others, in some solitary place, and there brings forth her young brood. Not but that the nests of theterecayare also found and despoiled of their eggs,—but this only occurs at intervals; and as the contents of a single nest would not be sufficient for a “churning,” no “butter” can be made of them. They are, therefore, gathered to be used only aseggs, and not asbutter.Thearau, on the other hand, although not gregarious under ordinary circumstances, becomes pre-eminently so during the “laying season.” Then all the turtles in the Orinoco and its tributaries collect into three or four vast gangs—numbering in all over a million of individuals—and proceed to certain points of rendezvous which they have been in the habit of visiting from time immemorial. These common breeding-places are situated between the cataracts of the river and the great bend, where it meets the Apure; and are simply broad beaches of sand, rising with a gentle slope from the edge of the water, and extending for miles along the bank. There are some small rookeries on tributary streams, but the three most noted are upon the shores of the main river, between the points already indicated. That frequented by the Ottomacs is upon an island, at the mouth of the Uruana River, upon which these people principally dwell.The laying season of thearauturtle varies in the different rivers of tropical America,—occurring in the Amazon and its tributaries at a different period from that of the Orinoco. It is regulated by the rise, or rather the fall of the inundations; and takes place when the waters, at their lowest stage, have laid bare the low sand-banks upon the shores. This occurs (in the Orinoco) in March, and early in this month the great assemblages are complete. For weeks before, the turtles are seen, in all parts of the river near the intended breeding-places, swimming about on the surface, or basking along the banks. As the sun grows stronger, the desire of depositing their eggs increases,—as though the heat had something to do with their fecundation. For some time before the final action, the creatures may be seen ranged in a long line in front of the breeding-place, with their heads and necks held high above the water; as if contemplating their intended nursery, and calculating the dangers to which they may be exposed. It is not without reason that they may dwell upon these. Along the beach stalks the lordly jaguar, waiting to make a meal of the first that may set his foot on terra firma, or to fill his stomach with the delicious “new-laid” eggs. The ugly alligator, too, is equallyfriandof a gigantic omelette; and not less so the “garzas” (white cranes), and the “zamuros” (black vultures), who hover in hundreds in the air. Here and there, too, may be observed an Indian sentinel, keeping as much as possible out of sight of the turtles themselves, but endeavouring to drive off all other enemies whose presence may give them fear. Should a canoe or boat appear upon the river, it is warned by these sentinels to keep well off from the phalanx of the turtles,—lest these should be disturbed or alarmed,—for the Indian well knows that if anything should occur to produce a panic among the araus, hiscosechawould be very much shortened thereby.When at length the turtles have had sun enough to warm them to the work, they crawl out upon the dry sand-beach, and the laying commences. It is at night that the operation is carried on: for then their numerous enemies—especially the vultures—are less active. Each turtle scoops out a hole, of nearly a yard in diameter and depth; and having therein deposited from fifty to one hundred eggs, it covers them up with the sand, smoothing the surface, and treading it firmly down. Sometimes the individuals are so crowded as to lay in one another’s nests, breaking many of the eggs, and causing an inextricable confusion; while the creaking noise of their shells rubbing against each other may be heard afar off, like the rushing of a cataract. Sometimes a number that have arrived late, or have been slow at their work, continue engaged in it till after daybreak, and even after the Indians have come upon the ground—whose presence they no longer regard. Impelled by the instinct of philo-progenitiveness, these “mad turtles,” as the Indians call them, appear utterly regardless of danger, and make no effort to escape from it; but are turned over on their backs, or killed upon the spot without difficulty.The beach being now deserted by the turtles, the egg-gatherers proceed to their work. As there are usually several tribes, who claim a share in thecosecha, the ground is measured out, and partitioned among them. The regularity with which the nests are placed, and the number of eggs in each being pretty nearly the same, an average estimate of the quantity under a given surface is easily made. By means of a pointed stick thrust into the sand, the outline of the deposit is ascertained—usually running along the beach in a strip of about thirty yards in breadth.When the allotments are determined, the work of oil-making begins,—each tribe working by itself, and upon the social system. The covering of sand is removed, and the eggs placed in baskets, which are then emptied into large wooden troughs, as a common receptacle. The canoes, drawn up on the sand, are frequently made to do duty as troughs. When a sufficient number of eggs have been thrown in, they are broken and pounded together, and whipped about, as if intended for a gigantic omelette. Water is added; and then the mixture is put into large caldrons, and boiled until the oil comes to the top; after which it is carefully skimmed off and poured into earthen jars (“botigas,”) provided by the traders.It takes about two weeks to complete the operations, during which time many curious scenes occur. The sand swarms with young turtles about as big as a dollar, which have been prematurely hatched; and have contrived to crawl out of the shell. These are chased in all directions, and captured by the little naked Ottomacs, who devour them “body, bones, and all,” with as much gusto as if they were gooseberries. The cranes and vultures, and young alligators too, take a part in this by-play—for the offspring of the poor arau has no end of enemies.When the oil is all boiled and bottled, the trader displays his tempting wares, and makes the best market he can; and the savage returns to his palm-hut village,—taking with him the articles of exchange and a few baskets of eggs, which he has reserved for his own eating; and so ends thecosecha de tortugas.It is in this season that the Ottomac indulges most in good living, and eats the smallest quantity of dirt. The waters afford him abundance of fish and turtle-flesh, beef from the sea-cow, and steaks from the tail of the alligator. He has his turtle and manati-butter, in which to fry all these dainties, and also to lubricate his hair and skin.He can dress, too, “within an inch of his life,” having obtained for his oil a fresh supply of the precious pigments. He indulges, moreover, in fits of intoxication, caused by a beverage made from maize or manioc root; but oftener produced by a species of snuff which he inhales into his nostrils. This is theniopo, manufactured from the leaves of amimosa, and mixed with a kind of lime, which last is obtained by burning a shell of the genushelix, that is found in the waters of the Orinoco. The effect of thenioporesembles that produced by chewingbetel, tobacco, opium, or the narcoticcocaof Peru. When freely taken, a species of intoxication or rather mania is produced; but this snuff and its effects are more minutely described elsewhere. It is here introduced because, in the case of the Ottomac, the drug often produces most baneful consequences. During the continuance of his intoxication the Ottomac is quarrelsome and disorderly. He picks a hole in the coat of his neighbour; but if there chance to be any “old sore” between him and a rival, the vindictive feeling is sure to exhibit itself on these occasions; and not unfrequently ends in an encounter, causing the death of one or both of the combatants. These duels are not fought either with swords or pistols, knives, clubs, nor any similar weapons. The destruction of the victim is brought about in a very different manner; and is the result of a very slight scratch which he has received during the fight from thenailof his antagonist. That a wound of so trifling a nature should prove mortal would be somethingverymysterious, did we not know that the nail which inflicted that scratch has been already enfiltrated withcurare,—one of the deadliest of vegetable poisons, which the Ottomac understands how to prepare in its most potent and virulent form.Should it ever be your unfortunate fate therefore, to get into a “scrimmage” with an Ottomac Indian, you must remember to keep clear of his “claws!”
On the banks of the Orinoco, a short distance above the point where that mighty river makes its second great sweep to the eastward, dwells a remarkable people,—a tribe of savages that, even among savages, are remarkable for many peculiar and singular customs. These are theOttomacs.
They have been long known,—and by the narratives of the early Spanish missionaries, rendered notorious,—on account of some curious habits; but although the missionaries have resided among them, and endeavoured to bring them within “sound of the bell,” their efforts have met with a very partial and temporary success; and at this present hour, the Ottomacs are as savage in their habits; and as singular in their customs, as they were in the days of Columbus.
The Ottomacs are neither a stunted nor yet a weak race of men. Their bodies are strong, and their arms and limbs stout and muscular; but they are remarkably ill-featured, with an expression of countenance habitually stern and vindictive.
Their costume is easily described, or rather cannot bedescribedat all, since they have none. Both, sexes go entirely naked,—if we except a little belt of three or four inches in width, made from cotton or the bark of trees, and called theguayuco, which they wear around the waist,—but even this is worn from no motives of modesty.
What they regard in the light of a costume is a coat of paint, and about this they are as nice and particular as a Parisian dandy. Talk about “blooming up” a fadedbellefor the ballroom, or the time spent by an exquisite in adjusting the tie of his cravat! these are trifles when compared with the lengthy and elaborate toilette of an Ottomac lady or gentleman.
The greater part of a day is often spent by them in a single dressing, with one or two helpers to assist in the operation; and this is not atattooingprocess, intended to last for a lifetime, but a costume certain to be disfigured, or entirely washed off, at the first exposure to a heavy shower of rain. Add to this, that the pigments which are used for the purpose are by no means easily obtained: the vegetable substances which furnish them are scarce in the Ottomac country; and it costs one of these Indians the produce of several days of his labour to purchase sufficient paint to give his whole skin a single “coat.” For this reason the Ottomac paints his body only on grand occasions,—contenting himself at ordinary times with merely staining his face and hair.
When an Ottomac wishes to appear in “full dress” he first gives himself a “priming” of red. This consists of the dye called “annotto,” which is obtained from the fruit pulp of theBixa orellana, and which the Indians knew how to prepare previous to their intercourse with Europeans. Over this red ground is then formed a lattice-work of lines of black, with a dot in the centre of every little square or diamond. The black dye is the “caruto,” also a vegetable pigment, obtained from theGenipa Americana. If the gentleman be rich enough to possess a little “chica” which is a beautiful lake-coloured red,—also the produce of a plant,—theBignoni, chica, he will then feel all the ecstatic delight of a fashionable dandy who possesses a good wardrobe; and, with half a pound of turtle-oil rubbed into his long black tresses, he will regard himself as dressed “within an inch of his life.” It is not always, however, that he can afford thechica,—for it is one of the costliest materials of which a South-American savage can manufacture his suit.
The Ottomac takes far less trouble in the building of his house. Very often he builds none; but when he wishes to guard his body from the rays of the sun, or the periodical rains, he constructs him a slight edifice—a mere hut—out of saplings or bamboos, with a thatch of palm-leaves.
His arms consist of the universal bow and arrows, which he manages with much dexterity; and he has also a harpoon which he employs in killing the manatee and the alligator. He has, besides, several other weapons, to aid him in the chase and fishing,—the latter of which forms his principal employment as well as his chief source of subsistence.
The Ottomac belongs to one of those tribes of Indians termed by the Spanish missionariesIndios andantes, that is “wandering,” or “vagabond Indians,” who instead of remaining in fixed and permanent villages, roam about from place to place, as necessity or inclination dictates. Perhaps this arises from the peculiarity of the country which they inhabit: for theIndios andantesdo not live in the thick forests, but upon vast treeless savannas, which stretch along the Orinoco above its great bend. In these tracts the “juvia” trees (bertholletiaandlecythys), which produce the delicious “Brazil-nuts”—and other plants that supply the savage spontaneously with food, are sparsely found; and as the savannas are annually inundated for several months, the Ottomac is forced, whether he will or no, to shift his quarters and try for subsistence elsewhere. When the inundations have subsided and the waters become settled enough to permit of fishing, the Ottomac “winter” is over, and he can obtain food in plenty from the alligators, the manatees, the turtles, thetoninasor dolphins, and other large fish that frequent the great stream upon which he dwells. Of these themanateeis the most important in the eyes of the Ottomac—as it is the largest in size, and consequently furnishes him with the greatest amount of meat.
This singular semi-cetaceous creature is almost too well-known to require description. It is found in nearly all the large rivers of tropical America, where it feeds upon the grass and aquatic plants growing along their banks. It is known by various names, according to the place and people. The Spaniards call itvaca marina, or “sea-cow,” and the Portuguesepeixe hoi, or “fish-ox,”—both being appellations equally inappropriate, and having their origin in a slight resemblance which there exists between the animal’s “countenance” and that of an ox.
TheWest Indianname is the one we though the true orthography ismanati, notmanatee, since the word is of Indian origin. Some writers deny this, alleging that it is a derivative from the Spanish word “mano,” a hand, signifying, therefore, the fish with hands,—in allusion to the rudimentary hands which form one of its distinguishing characteristics. This is the account of the historian Oviedo, but another Spanish missionary, Father Gili, offers a more correct explanation of the name,—in fact, he proves, what is neither more nor less than the simple truth, that “manati” was the name given to this animal by the natives of Hayti and Cuba,—where a species is also found,—and the word has no reference whatever to the “hands” of the creature. The resemblance to the Spanish word which should signify “handed,” is merely an accidental circumstance; and, as the acute Humboldt very justly remarks, according to the genius of the Spanish language, the word thus applied would have been writtenmanudo, ormanon, and notmanati.
The Indians have almost as many different names for this creature as there are rivers in which it is found; but its appellation in the “lingo ageral” of the great Amazon valley, is “juarua.” Among the Ottomacs it is called the “apoia.” It may be safely affirmed that there are several species of this amphibious animal in the rivers of tropical America; and possibly no one of them is identical with that of the West Indies. All have hitherto been regarded as belonging to the same species, and described under the scientific title ofManatus Americanus—a name given to the American manati, to distinguish it from the “lamantin” of Africa, and the “dugong” of the East-Indian seas. But the West-Indian species appears to have certain characteristic differences, which shows that it is a separate one, or, at all events, a variety. It is of much larger size than those of the South-American rivers generally are—though there also a large variety is found, but much rarer than those commonly captured by the fishermen. The West-Indian manati has nails well developed upon the outer edge of its fins, or forearms; while those on the other kinds are either not seen at all, or only in a very rudimentary state. That there are different species, may be deduced from the accounts of the natives, who employ themselves in its capture: and the observations of such people are usually more trustworthy than the speculations of learned anatomists. The Amazon fishermen all agree in the belief that there are three kinds of manati in the Amazon and its numerous tributaries, that not only differ greatly in size—from seven to twenty feet long—and in weight, from four hundred to two thousand pounds,—but also in the colour of their skin, and the shape of their tails and fins. The species found in the Orinoco, and called “apoia” by the Ottomacs, is usually about twelve feet in length, and weighs from five hundred to eight hundred pounds; but now and then a much larger individual is captured, perhaps owing to greater age, or other accidental circumstance. Humboldt heard of one that weighed eight thousand pounds; and the French naturalist D’Orbigny speaks of one killed in the Bolivian waters of the Amazon that was twenty feet in length. This size is often attained by theManatus Americanusof Cuba and Hayti.
The manati is shaped somewhat like a large seal, and has certain resemblances to a fish. Its body is of an oval oblong, with a large, flat, rounded tail, set horizontally, and which serves as a rudder to direct its course in the water. Just behind its shoulders appear, instead of fins, a pair of flippers, which have a certain resemblance to hands set on to the body without arms. Of these it avails itself, when creeping out against the bank, and the female also uses them in carrying her young. The mammae (for it must be remembered that this creature is a mammiferous animal) are placed just below and behind the flippers. The muzzle is blunt, with thick lips,—the upper projecting several inches beyond the lower, and covered with a delicate epidermis: showing evidently that it avails itself of this prominence—which possesses a keen sense of touch—just as the elephant of his proboscis. The lips are covered with bristles, or beard, which impart a kind of human-like expression to the animal’s countenance,—a circumstance more observable in the “dugongs” of the Oriental waters. “Woman fish,” too, these have been called, and no doubt such creatures, along with the seals and walruses, have given rise to many a story of sirens and mermaids. The “cow-face,” however, from which the manati obtains its Spanish and Portuguese epithets, is the most characteristic; and in its food we find a still greater analogy to the bovine quadruped with which it is brought in comparison. Beyond this the resemblance ceases. The body is that of a seal; but instead of being covered with hair, as the cetaceous animal, the manati has a smooth skin that resembles india-rubber more than anything else. A few short hairs are set here and there, but they are scarce observable. The colour of the manati is that of lead, with a few mottlings of a pinkish-white hue upon the belly; but in this respect there is no uniformity. Some are seen with the whole under-parts of a uniform cream colour.
The lungs of this animal present a peculiarity worthy of being noted. They are very voluminous,—being sometimes three feet in length, and of such a porous and elastic nature as to be capable of immense extension. When blown out, they present the appearance of great swimming bladders; and it is by means of this capacity for containing air that the manati is enabled to remain so long under water,—though, like the truecetaceae, it requires to come at intervals to the surface to obtain breath.
The flesh of the manati is eaten by all the tribes of Indians who can procure it,—though by some it is more highly esteemed than by others. It was once much relished in the colonial settlements of Guiana and the West Indies, and formed a considerable article of commerce; but in these quarters manatis have grown scarce,—from the incessant persecution of the fishermen. The flesh has been deemed unwholesome by some, and apt to produce fevers; but this is not the general opinion. It has a greater resemblance to pork than beef,—though it be the flesh of a cow,—and is very savoury when fresh, though neither is it bad eating when salted or dried in the sun. In this way it will keep for several months; and it has always been a stock article with the monks of the South-American missions,—who, in spite of its mammiferous character, find it convenient, during the days of Lent, to regard it as a fish! The skin of the manati is of exceeding thickness,—on the back an inch and a half at least, though it becomes thinner as it approaches the under-parts of the body. It is cut into slips which serve various purposes, as for shields, cordage, and whips. “These whips of manati leather,” Bays Humboldt, “are a cruel instrument of punishment for the unhappy slaves, and even for the Indians of the missions, though, according to the laws, the latter ought to be treated as freemen.”
Another valuable commodity obtained from this animal is oil, known in the missions as manati-butter (manteca de manati). This is produced by the layer of pure fat, of an inch and a half in thickness, which, lying immediately under the skin, envelops the whole body of the animal. The oil is used for lamps in the mission churches; but among the Indians themselves it is also employed in thecuisine,—as it has not that fetid smell peculiar to the oil of whales and salt-water cetaceae.
The food of the manati is grass exclusively, which it finds on the banks of the lakes and rivers it frequents. Of this it will eat an enormous quantity; and its usual time of browsing is at night,—though this habit may have arisen from its observance of the fact, that night is the safest time to approach the shore. In those places, where is has been left undisturbed, it may be often seen browsing by day.
I have been thus particular in my account of this animal, because it is more nearly connected with the history of Ottomac habits than perhaps that of any other tribe of South-American Indians,—the Guamos alone excepted, who may themselves be regarded as merely a branch of the Ottomac family. Though, as already remarked, all the tribes who dwell upon manati rivers pursue this creature and feed upon its flesh, yet in no other part of South America is this species of fishery so extensively or so dexterously carried on as among the Ottomacs and Guamos,—the reason being, that, amidst the great grassy savannas which characterise the Ottomac country, there are numerous streams and lagoons that are the favourite haunts of this herbivorous animal. In one river in particular, so great a number are found that it has been distinguished by the appellation of theRio de Manatis(river of manatis). The manati, when undisturbed, is gregarious in its habits, going in troops (or “herds,” if we preserve the analogy) of greater or less numbers, and keeping the young “calves” in the centre, which the mothers guard with the tenderest affection. So attached are the parents to their young, that if the calf be taken, the mother can be easily approached; and the devotion is reciprocated on the filial side; since in cases where the mother has been captured and dragged ashore, the young one has often been known to follow the lifeless body up to the very bank!
As the manati plays such an important part in the domestic economy of the Ottomacs, of course the capturing of this animal is carried on upon the grandest scale among these people, and, like the “harvest of turtle-eggs,” hereafter to be described, the manati fishery has its particularseason. Some writers have erroneously stated this season as being the period of inundation, and when the water is at its maximum height. This is quite contrary to the truth; since that period, both on the Amazon and Orinoco rivers, is just the time when all kinds of fishing is difficult and precarious. Then is the true winter,—the “blue months” of the South-American river Indians; and it is then, as will presently be seen, that the Ottomac comes nearest the point of starvation,—which he approaches every year of his life.
There are manati and other kinds of fish taken at all times of the year; but the true season of the manati-fishing is when the waters of the great flood have considerably subsided, and are still continuing to diminish rapidly. When the inundation is at its height, the manati passes out of the channel current of the great river, and in search of grass it finds its way into the lakes and surrounding marshes, remaining there to browse along their banks. When the flood is rapidly passing away from it, it begins to find itself a “little out of its element,” and just then is the time when it is most easily captured.
Sometimes the Indians assemble in a body with their canoes, forming a large fleet; and, proceeding to the best haunts of the “cow-fish,” carry on the fishery in a wholesale manner. The monks of the missions also head thetametribes on these expeditions,—as they do when collecting the eggs of the turtle,—and a regular systematic course is carried on under the eye of discipline and authority. A camp is formed at some convenient place on the shore. Scaffolds are erected for sun-drying the flesh and skins; and vessels and other utensils brought upon the ground to render the fat into oil. The manatis that have been captured are all brought in the canoes to this central point, and delivered up to be “flensed,” cured, and cooked. There is the usual assemblage of small traders from Angostura and other ports on the lower Orinoco, who come to barter their Indian trinkets for themanteca de manatiin the same manner as it will presently be seen they trade for themanteca de tortugas. I need not add that this is a season of joy and festivity, like the wine-gatherings and harvest-homes of the European peasantry.
The mode of capturing the manati is very similar to that employed by the Esquimaux in taking the seal, and which has been elsewhere described. There is not much danger in the fishery, for no creature could be more harmless and inoffensive than this. It makes not the slightest attempt either at defence or retaliation,—though the accident sometimes occurs of a canoe being swamped or drawn under water,—but this is nothing to the Ottomac Indian, who is almost as amphibious as the manati itself.
At the proper hour the fisherman starts off in search of the manati. His fishing-boat is a canoe hollowed from a single trunk, of that kind usually styled a “dugout.” On perceiving the cow-fish resting upon the surface of the water, the Ottomac paddles towards it, observing the greatest caution; for although the organs of sight and hearing in this animal are, externally, but very little developed, it both hears and sees well; and the slightest suspicious noise would be a signal for it to dive under, and of course escape.
When near enough to insure a good aim, the Ottomac hurls his harpoon into the animal’s body; which, after piercing the thick hide, sticks fast. To this harpoon a cord is attached, with a float, and the float remaining above water indicates the direction in which the wounded animal now endeavours to get off. When it is tired of struggling, the Indian regains the cord; and taking it in, hand over hand, draws up his canoe to the side of the fish. If it be still too lively, he repeatedly strikes it with a spear; but he does not aim to kill it outright until he has got it “aboard.” Once there, he ends the creature’s existence by driving a wooden plug into its nostrils, which in a moment deprives it of life.
The Ottomac now prepares himself to transport the carcass to his home; or, if fishing in company, to the common rendezvous. Perhaps he has some distance to take it, and against a current; and he finds it inconvenient to tow such a heavy and cumbrous article. To remedy this inconvenience, he adopts the expedient already mentioned, of placing the carcass in his canoe. But how does he get it there? How can a single Indian of ordinary strength raise a weight of a thousand pounds out of the water, and lift it over the gunwale of his unsteady craft? It is in this that he exhibits great cunning and address: for instead of raising the carcass above the canoe, he sinks the canoe below the carcass, by first filling the vessel nearly full of water; and then, after he has got his freight aboard, he bales out the water with his gourd-shell. He at length succeeds in adjusting his load, and then paddles homeward with his prize.
On arriving at his village,—if it be to the village he takes it,—he is assisted in transporting the load by others of his tribe; but he does not carry it to his own house,—for the Ottomacs are true socialists, and the produce both of the chase and the fishery is the common property of all. The chief of the village, seated in front of his hut, receives all that is brought home, and distributes it out to the various heads of families,—giving to each in proportion to the number of mouths that are to be fed.
The manati is flayed,—its thick hide, as already observed, serving for many useful purposes; the strata of fat, or “blubber,” which lies beneath is removed, to be converted into oil; and finally, the flesh, which is esteemed equal to pork, both in delicacy and flavour, is cut into thin slices, either to be broiled and eaten at the time, or to be preserved for a future occasion, not by salt, of which the Ottomac is entirely ignorant, but by drying in the sun and smoking over a slow fire. Fish and the flesh of the alligator are similarly “cured;” and when the process is carefully done, both will keep for months.
The alligator is captured in various ways: sometimes by a baited hook with a strong cord attached,—sometimes he is killed by a stab of the harpoon spear, and not unfrequently is he taken by a noose slipped over his paw, the Ottomac diving fearlessly under him and adjusting the snare.
Some of the Indian tribes will not eat the musky flesh of the alligator; but the Ottomacs are not thus particular. Indeed, these people refuse scarce any article of food, however nasty or disagreeable; and it is a saying among their neighbours—the Indians of other tribes—that “nothing is too loathsome for the stomach of an Ottomac.”
Perhaps the saying will be considered as perfectly true when we come to describe a species of food which these people eat, and which, for a long time, has rendered them famous—or rather infamous—under the appellation of “dirt-eaters.” Of them it may literally be said that they “eat dirt,” for such, in reality, is one of their customs.
This singular practice is chiefly resorted to during those months in the year when the rivers swell to their greatest height, and continue full. At this time all fishing ceases, and the Ottomac finds it difficult to obtain a sufficiency of food. To make up for the deficiency, he fills his stomach with a kind of unctuous clay, which he has already stored up for the emergency, and of which he eats about a pound per diem! It does not constitute his sole diet, but often for several days together it is the only food which passes his lips! There is nothing nourishing in it,—that has been proved by analysis. It merelyfillsthe belly,—producing a satiety, or, at least, giving some sort of relief from the pangs of hunger. Nor has it been observed that the Ottomac grows thin or unhealthy on this unnatural viand: on the contrary, he is one of the most robust and healthy of American Indians.
The earth which the Ottomac eats goes by the name ofpoya. He does not eat clay of every kind: only a peculiar sort which he finds upon the banks of streams. It is soft and smooth to the touch, and unctuous, like putty. In its natural state it is of a yellowish-grey colour; but, when hardened before the fire, it assumes a tinge of red, owing to the oxide of iron which is in it.
It was for a long time believed that the Ottomac mixed this clay with cassava and turtle-oil, or some other sort of nutritive substance. Even Father Gumilla—who was credulous enough to believe almost anything—could not “swallow” the story of the clay in its natural state, but believed that it was prepared with some combination of farinha or fat. This, however, is not the case. It is a pure earth, containing (according to the analysis of Vauquelin) silex and alumina, with three or four per cent of lime!
This clay the Ottomac stores up, forming it into balls of several inches in diameter; which; being slightly hardened before the fire, he builds into little pyramids, just as cannon-balls are piled in an arsenal or fortress. When the Ottomac wishes to eat of thepoya, he softens one of the balls by wetting it; and then, scraping off as much as he may require for his meal, returns thepoyato its place on the pyramid.
The dirt-eating does not entirely end with the falling of the waters. The practice has begot a craving for it; and the Ottomac is not contented without a littlepoya, even when more nutritious food may be obtained in abundance.
This habit of eating earth is not exclusively Ottomac. Other kindred tribes indulge in it, though not to so great an extent; and we find the same unnatural practice among the savages of New Caledonia and the Indian archipelago. It is also common on the west coast of Africa. Humboldt believed it to be exclusively a tropical habit. In this the great philosopher was in error, since it is known to be practised by some tribes of northern Indians on the frigid banks of the Mackenzie River.
When the floods subside, as already stated, the Ottomac lives better. Then he can obtain both fish and turtles in abundance. The former he captures, both with hooks and nets, or shoots with his arrows, when they rise near the surface.
The turtles of the Ottomac rivers are of two kinds thearauandterecay. The former is the one most sought after, as being by far the largest. It is nearly a yard across the back, and weighs from fifty to a hundred pounds. It is a shy creature, and would be difficult to capture, were it not for a habit it has of raising its head above the surface of the water, and thus exposing the soft part of its throat to the Indian’s arrow. Even then an arrow might fail to kill it; but the Ottomac takes care to have the point well coated withcurarepoison, which in a few seconds does its work, and secures the death of the victim.
Theterecayis taken in a different and still more ingenious manner. This species, floating along the surface, or even when lying still, presents no mark at which a shaft can be aimed with the slightest chance of success. The sharpest arrow would glance off its flat shelly back as from a surface of steel. In order, therefore, to reach the vitals of his victim, the Indian adopts an expedient, in which he exhibits a dexterity and skill that are truly remarkable.
He aims his shaft, not at the turtle, but up into the air, describing by its course a parabolic curve, and so calculating its velocity and direction that it will drop perpendicularly, point foremost, upon the back of the unsuspecting swimmer, and pierce through the shell right into the vital veins of its body!
It is rare that an Indian will fail in hitting such a mark; and, both on the Orinoco and Amazon, thousands of turtles are obtained in this manner.
The great season of Ottomac festivity and rejoicing, however, is that of thecosecha de tortugas, or “turtle-crop.” As has been already observed, in relation to the manati fishery, it is to him what the harvest-home is to the nations of northern Europe, or the wine-gathering to those of the south; for this is more truly the character of thecosecha. It is then that he is enabled, not only to procure a supply of turtle-oil with which to lubricate his hair and skin, but he obtains enough of this delicious grease wherewith to fry his dried slices of manati and a surplus for sale to the turtle-traders from the Lower Orinoco. In this petty commerce no coin is required; harpoon spears, and arrow-heads of iron, rude knives, and hatchets; but, above all, a few cakes ofannotto,chica, andcaruto, are bartered in exchange for the turtle-oil. The thick hide of the manati,—for making slave-whips,—the spotted skin of the jaguar, and some other pelts which the chase produces, are also items of his export trade.
The pigments above mentioned have already been procured by the trader, as theexportarticles of commerce of some other tribe.
The turtle-oil is the product of the eggs of the larger species,—thearau,—known simply by the nametortuga, or turtle. The eggs of theterecaywould serve equally as well; but, from a difference in the habit of this animal, its eggs cannot be obtained in sufficient quantity for oil-making. There is no such thing as a grand “cosecha,” or crop of them—for the creature is not gregarious, like its congener, but each female makes her nest apart from the others, in some solitary place, and there brings forth her young brood. Not but that the nests of theterecayare also found and despoiled of their eggs,—but this only occurs at intervals; and as the contents of a single nest would not be sufficient for a “churning,” no “butter” can be made of them. They are, therefore, gathered to be used only aseggs, and not asbutter.
Thearau, on the other hand, although not gregarious under ordinary circumstances, becomes pre-eminently so during the “laying season.” Then all the turtles in the Orinoco and its tributaries collect into three or four vast gangs—numbering in all over a million of individuals—and proceed to certain points of rendezvous which they have been in the habit of visiting from time immemorial. These common breeding-places are situated between the cataracts of the river and the great bend, where it meets the Apure; and are simply broad beaches of sand, rising with a gentle slope from the edge of the water, and extending for miles along the bank. There are some small rookeries on tributary streams, but the three most noted are upon the shores of the main river, between the points already indicated. That frequented by the Ottomacs is upon an island, at the mouth of the Uruana River, upon which these people principally dwell.
The laying season of thearauturtle varies in the different rivers of tropical America,—occurring in the Amazon and its tributaries at a different period from that of the Orinoco. It is regulated by the rise, or rather the fall of the inundations; and takes place when the waters, at their lowest stage, have laid bare the low sand-banks upon the shores. This occurs (in the Orinoco) in March, and early in this month the great assemblages are complete. For weeks before, the turtles are seen, in all parts of the river near the intended breeding-places, swimming about on the surface, or basking along the banks. As the sun grows stronger, the desire of depositing their eggs increases,—as though the heat had something to do with their fecundation. For some time before the final action, the creatures may be seen ranged in a long line in front of the breeding-place, with their heads and necks held high above the water; as if contemplating their intended nursery, and calculating the dangers to which they may be exposed. It is not without reason that they may dwell upon these. Along the beach stalks the lordly jaguar, waiting to make a meal of the first that may set his foot on terra firma, or to fill his stomach with the delicious “new-laid” eggs. The ugly alligator, too, is equallyfriandof a gigantic omelette; and not less so the “garzas” (white cranes), and the “zamuros” (black vultures), who hover in hundreds in the air. Here and there, too, may be observed an Indian sentinel, keeping as much as possible out of sight of the turtles themselves, but endeavouring to drive off all other enemies whose presence may give them fear. Should a canoe or boat appear upon the river, it is warned by these sentinels to keep well off from the phalanx of the turtles,—lest these should be disturbed or alarmed,—for the Indian well knows that if anything should occur to produce a panic among the araus, hiscosechawould be very much shortened thereby.
When at length the turtles have had sun enough to warm them to the work, they crawl out upon the dry sand-beach, and the laying commences. It is at night that the operation is carried on: for then their numerous enemies—especially the vultures—are less active. Each turtle scoops out a hole, of nearly a yard in diameter and depth; and having therein deposited from fifty to one hundred eggs, it covers them up with the sand, smoothing the surface, and treading it firmly down. Sometimes the individuals are so crowded as to lay in one another’s nests, breaking many of the eggs, and causing an inextricable confusion; while the creaking noise of their shells rubbing against each other may be heard afar off, like the rushing of a cataract. Sometimes a number that have arrived late, or have been slow at their work, continue engaged in it till after daybreak, and even after the Indians have come upon the ground—whose presence they no longer regard. Impelled by the instinct of philo-progenitiveness, these “mad turtles,” as the Indians call them, appear utterly regardless of danger, and make no effort to escape from it; but are turned over on their backs, or killed upon the spot without difficulty.
The beach being now deserted by the turtles, the egg-gatherers proceed to their work. As there are usually several tribes, who claim a share in thecosecha, the ground is measured out, and partitioned among them. The regularity with which the nests are placed, and the number of eggs in each being pretty nearly the same, an average estimate of the quantity under a given surface is easily made. By means of a pointed stick thrust into the sand, the outline of the deposit is ascertained—usually running along the beach in a strip of about thirty yards in breadth.
When the allotments are determined, the work of oil-making begins,—each tribe working by itself, and upon the social system. The covering of sand is removed, and the eggs placed in baskets, which are then emptied into large wooden troughs, as a common receptacle. The canoes, drawn up on the sand, are frequently made to do duty as troughs. When a sufficient number of eggs have been thrown in, they are broken and pounded together, and whipped about, as if intended for a gigantic omelette. Water is added; and then the mixture is put into large caldrons, and boiled until the oil comes to the top; after which it is carefully skimmed off and poured into earthen jars (“botigas,”) provided by the traders.
It takes about two weeks to complete the operations, during which time many curious scenes occur. The sand swarms with young turtles about as big as a dollar, which have been prematurely hatched; and have contrived to crawl out of the shell. These are chased in all directions, and captured by the little naked Ottomacs, who devour them “body, bones, and all,” with as much gusto as if they were gooseberries. The cranes and vultures, and young alligators too, take a part in this by-play—for the offspring of the poor arau has no end of enemies.
When the oil is all boiled and bottled, the trader displays his tempting wares, and makes the best market he can; and the savage returns to his palm-hut village,—taking with him the articles of exchange and a few baskets of eggs, which he has reserved for his own eating; and so ends thecosecha de tortugas.
It is in this season that the Ottomac indulges most in good living, and eats the smallest quantity of dirt. The waters afford him abundance of fish and turtle-flesh, beef from the sea-cow, and steaks from the tail of the alligator. He has his turtle and manati-butter, in which to fry all these dainties, and also to lubricate his hair and skin.
He can dress, too, “within an inch of his life,” having obtained for his oil a fresh supply of the precious pigments. He indulges, moreover, in fits of intoxication, caused by a beverage made from maize or manioc root; but oftener produced by a species of snuff which he inhales into his nostrils. This is theniopo, manufactured from the leaves of amimosa, and mixed with a kind of lime, which last is obtained by burning a shell of the genushelix, that is found in the waters of the Orinoco. The effect of thenioporesembles that produced by chewingbetel, tobacco, opium, or the narcoticcocaof Peru. When freely taken, a species of intoxication or rather mania is produced; but this snuff and its effects are more minutely described elsewhere. It is here introduced because, in the case of the Ottomac, the drug often produces most baneful consequences. During the continuance of his intoxication the Ottomac is quarrelsome and disorderly. He picks a hole in the coat of his neighbour; but if there chance to be any “old sore” between him and a rival, the vindictive feeling is sure to exhibit itself on these occasions; and not unfrequently ends in an encounter, causing the death of one or both of the combatants. These duels are not fought either with swords or pistols, knives, clubs, nor any similar weapons. The destruction of the victim is brought about in a very different manner; and is the result of a very slight scratch which he has received during the fight from thenailof his antagonist. That a wound of so trifling a nature should prove mortal would be somethingverymysterious, did we not know that the nail which inflicted that scratch has been already enfiltrated withcurare,—one of the deadliest of vegetable poisons, which the Ottomac understands how to prepare in its most potent and virulent form.
Should it ever be your unfortunate fate therefore, to get into a “scrimmage” with an Ottomac Indian, you must remember to keep clear of his “claws!”