Chapter XV: The Captive in Patagonia

For further information in regard to the savages of Eastern Patagonia and along the Strait of Magellan, I refer the reader to “The Captive in Patagonia; or, A Personal Narrative of the Capture, Sufferings, and Escape of Benjamin Franklin Bourne, Mate of the Schooner John Allyne, of New Bedford,” published by Gould & Lincoln, Boston, 1853.

This schooner, A. Brownwell, master, sailed from New Bedford on the 13th February, 1849, bound to California in search of gold. In passing through the Strait of Magellan the vessel anchored on the 1st of May within the eastern part of the Strait, and very near the place where the Mary Jane left Mr. Arms and myself, and evidently among the same tribe of savages with whom we sojourned in 1833-4.

Mr. Bourne was sent on shore to trade with the natives, but through the disobedience of his boat’s crew he fell into the hands of the savages, who supposed him to be the master of the schooner, and who retained him doubtless with the hope of securing a large ransom for his delivery. Unfortunately all efforts to secure his release failed; the John Allyne sailed without him; he was carried to the Indians’ camp in the country, and a feeling of horror, almost of despair, such as cannot be known but by experience, came over him.

The Chilian Government at that time had a penal settlement at Port Famine, sixty or seventy miles westward in the Strait. To this place Mr. Bourne begged earnestly and repeatedly to be taken, but his plea was rejected. In his agony for escape he sometimes became desperate, using flattery and threatening, promising his captors rich gifts when they should restore him to freedom, and threatening exemplary vengeance on any one who should dare to hurt him. For all this duplicity he apologizes, as it seemed to him necessary on account of his desperate condition.

Mr. Bourne mentions horrid murders committed while he was in exile; he also thinks that cannibalism was practised in Patagonia, but with great secrecy. He records two cases where he was surrounded with what he calls “the fatal ring,” where his life was in great peril, and where he mercifully escaped through the intervention of his guardian chief, who pleaded that his life might be spared until they had obtained the promised presents.

After three months and seven days of physical sufferings and perils, and of mental anguish that can never be told, he succeeded in persuading the Indians to go as far north as Port Santa Cruz, where there was a small islet which the savages called Holland. At this island lay a vessel with a few men come thither to collect guano.

Bourne set a signal on the shore for a boat to come from the island; but it was not until the second day that any movement was made in response. At length, however, a boat approached the shore and was hailed, but refused to land for fear of the savages. Mr. Hall, who headed the boat, told Bourne to dive into the sea and swim off, promising to care for him when once on board.

But how could he disentangle himself from the Indians, who kept close to him with their knives, determined not to let him go until they received the rewards promised? To the poor captive it was a case of life or death. The savages ordered him to go back to their camp. He signified that he would by and by. They watched him. Suddenly he darted from them and plunged into the roaring surf. They followed with drawn knives, but the surf stopped them, and he by a desperate struggle reached the boat, and was taken exhausted and chilled to the island.

This was on the 7th of August, 1849, and in the dead of winter. He was taken captive on the first of May, making his captivity ninety-nine days. He had no further communication with the Patagonians, and all their hopes of rewards were blasted. This narrative of Mr. Bourne is painfully interesting, and it will well repay the reader. His descriptions of life and manners in Patagonia are graphic and life-like, and more correct than the stories of some who have written on that country.