CAMP ON HOSTE ISLAND 109 
we could see smoke curling up the wooded valley from a 
deserted toldo (wigwam) on the little beach, and also from 
a primitive tin hut tucked farther back in the cove which we 
were to occupy (Plates XI, XII). Behind the snow-covered 
mountains which sheltered it was boundless wild country. 
The encampment consisted mainly of Indians returning 
by slow stages from otter-hunting expeditions in their chil- 
lanes (flat-bottomed boats which have somewhat displaced 
canoes) to Puerto Mejilliones, a desolate bay farther north 
on Isle Navarino, where the Chilean Government have of 
recent years made a small Reserve and given to each Indian 
a certain portion of land to cultivate. Civilization, such as 
it is in the South, has told heavily on the Yaghan tribe, of 
whom, according to Senor Williams (son of Rev. J. Williams, 
formerly missionary at Rio Douglas), only 50 are surviving 
of a tribe which numbered at one time nearly 3,000. 
We had brought with us provisions, mattresses and 
blankets, &c. The afternoon was drawing into evening; the 
shadows began to lengthen earlier than usual, so we were 
soon sitting round the fire eating from the pan fish that the 
old woman had caught and cooked for us. The evening was 
spent talking and getting friendly with the natives. Like 
other humans the latter possess virtues and failings, but the 
Indian did not fascinate the Professor as did his Australian 
blackfellow, the Arunta. Therefore to see the ‘great man’ 
later in the evening drinking mate with them in order to 
further good relationship, as he put it, was an unforgettable 
sight. His neat immaculate appearance made a strange and 
attractive picture as he sat amongst these unwashed and un¬ 
shaven natives, who though poor, slothful, and filthy with 
neglect, were given the same graciousness and quiet under¬ 
standing courtesy which he extended to everyone regardless 
of race or quality. His bright remarks produced low chuckles 
of enjoyment from the old woman Juanna (Plate XI), whose 
