CAPTAIN GARDINER'S appeal was not made in vain. A few friends at Brighton, where he then lived, met together to consider in what way they could best help him, and they determined to subscribe money to send out a Mr. Robert Hunt, who was to be the first English missionary to Patagonia. Captain Gardiner gladly offered to accompany him, and so, bidding his wife and friends and country farewell, in the winter of 1844, he embarked with Mr. Hunt on board the brig "Rosalie," and in less than two months reached the Straits of Magellan.
The voyage had been pleasant, and hitherto all had gone smoothly, but on landing at Cape Gregory the missionaries were dismayed to find no trace of the people whom they came to seek.
As the Patagonians live by hunting, they rarely remain long in the same place, and although Gregory Bay had been one of their principal resorts, all was now silent and deserted there.
Captain Gardiner, on his previous visit to the bay, had met with an encampment of more than a hundred Indians, and had explained to them, by means of a Spaniard who had lived in the country for many years, that his object in coming among them was to prepare the way for those who should instruct them in the knowledge of the true God.
The Indians had told him that he might remain in their country as long as he pleased, and might build himself a house; and they had promised to protect him, and allow none of his property to be stolen. Before Captain Gardiner parted from these friendly Indians, their principal chief, Wissale, who had been absent upon a trading expedition, arrived with about a hundred more. They brought with them a black man named Isaac. He had come amongst them from a, North American whaler, had lived with them three years, and understood their language well.
By means of this man Wissale was made aware of Captain Gardiner's intentions, and he, too, behaved in an open and friendly manner. Isaac spoke well of him, and there seemed no reason to doubt his sincerity; but we shall see what his fair promises were worth.
It was necessary that the stores and provisions which Captain Gardiner had brought with him should be landed at Gregory Bay, for the "Rosalie" was not to sail beyond that point; so the materials for the wooden huts were taken on shore, one of them was set up beside a spring of fresh water, and the missionaries spent their first night in their new quarters. They lighted a large fire upon one of the hills, in the hope that the smoke might attract the natives, but no traces of them were to be found, and the spot where they had dwelt two years before was now overgrown with grass. Hoping to obtain some information as to their whereabouts before the "Rosalie" sailed, Captain Gardiner resolved to go in search of them, and left Mr. Hunt to look after the landing of the provisions. After a little he found a Fuegian, who, with his wives and children, and having his tent and bow and arrows, appeared to be on his way through the country. Taking this man for his guide, he set out upon his journey of discovery.
He was absent for two nights, during which time Mr. Hunt was, as he says in his journal, "alone, yet not alone." Although the "Rosalie" had not yet left the bay, not one of her crew would be persuaded to risk his life by remaining on shore; but the lonely missionary, as he slept in his poor hut on the, deserted shore, knew that all around him was the mighty shield of God's protecting care, for is it not written, "The angel of Jehovah encampeth round about them that feareth Him, and delivereth them"?
The same care watched over Captain Gardiner, and he returned in safety, but without having found any trace of the Patagonians. Next morning the "Rosalie" sailed out of the bay, and left these devoted men in their place of self-chosen exile.
Once more Captain Gardiner went in search of the natives, and again returned without success, guided through the darkness by a lantern which his friend had hung outside one of the huts.
Next morning, to the great surprise of the missionaries, a man arrived, faint with fatigue, carrying a bundle on his back. He was neither a Patagonian nor a Fuegian, but a runaway soldier. He told them his name was Mariano Maldonado, and that he was a deserter on his way to Rio Janeiro. He did not know where he was, and only begged for food and shelter.
Mariano brought news of the Indians, for he had fallen in with a party of them who belonged to Wissale, the chief himself being absent on a hunting expedition. During the time he had remained with them, they had moved their encampment of six tents very often. They had treated him well, but he had met only two days before some Indians from another tribe—Bravios Indianos (ferocious Indians) he called them—who had robbed him, and threatened to kill him with their long knives. They were close at his heels, he said, and he had with difficulty escaped from them.
This intelligence was alarming, indeed, for the missionaries. They had already been in great peril, although they were unaware of it; for when the Fuegian who had acted as their guide, and had afterward left them in a very sudden manner, returned, Mariano at once said, "There is one of the Indians who robbed me!”
It was only too evident that the lonely dwellers in the wooden huts were in a situation of great danger. But their courage did not fail. "Though in perplexity," Captain Gardiner writes in his journal, "we were not cast down; we could carry all our wants, our cares, and our apprehensions to the throne of grace, where none ever pleaded for succor in vain; and thither we went and cast ourselves down, earnestly imploring counsel and strength from Him who has promised never to leave or to forsake His people.”
Believing that it was their first duty to seek out the Patagonians, Captain Gardiner and Mr. Hunt determined to leave the huts, having locked up their store of provisions in them, and once more start, this time together, in search of them. They used every argument to persuade Mariano to accompany them, but he refused, saying he was too footsore and weary to begin a new journey, and they were reluctantly obliged to leave him in charge of their little station.
It was near midnight when they silently started upon their quest; each carried a cloak, in which to wrap himself during the cold nights; Captain Gardiner had charge of their store of biscuits, and Mr. Hunt carried a gun.
Noiselessly they crept along the sandy shore, not even disturbing the dogs which kept watch beside the Fuegians as they slept, and walked on, now through tall rank grass, now over marshy ground, until when day dawned they reckoned that they had traveled ten miles from the station.
On they plodded, resting every now and then to take their scanty meal of ship-biscuit and water, scorched by the hot sun by day, and by night so benumbed by the cold winds that they were obliged to get up and jump about to warm themselves; but amid all difficulties and perils they were strong in confidence in God. As they lay down at night among the thick, damp grass near a muddy pond, with the group of stars called the Southern Cross gleaming in the sky above them, they enjoyed, as they had never enjoyed before, singing the well-known hymn beginning
“Come, let us join our cheerful songs,”
for there are no circumstances in which the children of God cannot praise Him. They were far away from the Fuegians now, and not afraid to raise their voices, like the disciples of old, in "praising and blessing God." Even for the muddy pool they were full of thankfulness; it reminded them of Hagar's wilderness fountain, for at the time when Captain Gardiner discovered it, Mr. Hunt was so exhausted by thirst and fatigue that he must have died if no water had been found. But people cannot travel long through a barren and desolate country. The little store of biscuit was nearly finished, and during their long march they had found nothing except some cranberries which grew here and there in marshy spots. Once Mr. Hunt shot a hawk, and they managed to cook it; but it was a rare occurrence for them to meet with anything fit for food, and it soon became plain that if they hoped to save their lives, they must at once retrace their steps to the station.
The return march was full of hardships; they were doubtful of finding their way, and Mr. Hunt grew so weak that as he tried to force a passage through the tangled mass of grass and rushes he constantly fell down, and at last entreated Captain Gardiner to proceed without him. To this he would not consent. "We must reach home together," he said, and the very tones of his brave, kindly voice brought, strength and cheer with them, "or both remain, and end our journey and our work here." Ten or twelve small berries plucked from a clump of bushes, which, in the distance, they had mistaken for the huts, refreshed Mr. Hunt, and by easy stages he was able to reach the station, where they found, to their great joy and thankfulness, that the buildings were still standing.
Mariano told them that he had passed the time of their absence in constant alarm, for the Fuegians, who were now increased in number, had surrounded the hut where he was, drawing their knives, and threatening to kill him. He believed that it was only the terror of his gun-for they had seen birds fall dead when he lifted it-which prevented them from breaking into the storehouse and plundering it. "Nothing but an overruling Providence," writes Captain Gardiner, recognizing the true source of security, "could have preserved the station from pillage.”
The missionaries felt that they had done what they could in searching for the Patagonians, and that it was now their duty to remain quietly at their post until, as Mr. Hunt writes, " it should please the Lord to show us more distinctly what His will was concerning us, and the work in which we were desirous to engage." P.