Tierra del Fuego Read Online Free PDF Page A

phenomenon of Tierra del Fuego that, whereas in other places the nuggets and flakes of gold are torn them from their beds of quartz and swept along by the rivers, on the Fuegian coast they are torn from the ocean bed and from the cliffs at high tide and swept along by the force of the waves.
    Thanks to another phenomenon typical of the eastern edge of Tierra del Fuego, the land had risen and the sea receded, leaving the whale skeleton embedded in the middle of the beach. But before that, for how long nobody knew, the framework of bones, with its ribs and its fissures between the vertebrae, had acted as a strange kind of conduit and washer of gold.
    With this unexpected find, the lives of the two men underwent an abrupt change. The first nuggets and flakes made it possible for Novak to go south to the port of Río Grande and buy tools to replace those that had been abandoned after the defeat in the Beta arroyo. He also stocked up with food and tobacco, a change from what nature provided for them, and bought a horse complete with Malvinas harness and gear for Schaeffer, which he used to transport the load.
    But the breath of humanity started moving out of their hearts . . .
    â€œAccording to custom, you get a third,” Schaeffer said, when, with the tools brought by Novak, they organized the work and divided up the first gold they had obtained.
    â€œWhy?” Novak asked, surprised.
    â€œBecause I found the deposit . . .”
    â€œYou call that a deposit? A few whale bones that collected the gold the sea threw up on the beach!”
    â€œThat’s as may be, but it’s mine. I was the one who found the skeleton, so the bones belong to me, and so does everything under the bones. You can have all the rest of the beach, and we can share the work on it, but not this. What if,” Schaeffer continued, unusually talkative, “what if tomorrow you were walking along and you came across a gold nugget, and I was walking behind you, would you share it with me? Would you?”
    â€œIt’s not the same.”
    â€œIt is . . .”
    Novak looked him up and down. He was more than six feet tall, and his square face, prominent chin and dark, childlike eyes gave him a sad, pensive look.
    â€œI know what you’re thinking,” Schaeffer said, with a smile that was half sly, half cruel. “‘I saved your life, and this is how you repay me!’ Well, I can give it back to you if you like, how much will you pay me for it? But that’s how gold is divided up.”
    â€œLife can’t be bought and sold,” Novak yelled, more in bitterness than in anger, “especially the life of a rogue like you!”
    â€œYes, you’re right, life can’t be bought and sold. But gold can.”
    Novak wanted to leave then and there, and would have if his military training hadn’t taught him to think before acting. You couldn’t just abandon the field to the enemy like that. That would have been just what Schaeffer wanted—to have the gold all for himself! So he stayed, but the breath of humanity never came back into their hearts.
    They did not spend much time together now in the cave, which Schaeffer had provided with a decent shelter from the wind and rain, using whale ribs with seal skins stretched over them, just as he had conceived it. Like two mistrustful beasts, they devoted all their energies, from morning to night, to the task of washing the gold. They would look at each other suspiciously, even when they were carrying water for their pans, and only talked to each other when they had to, beneath that sealskin awning between the rocks.
    At the end of every day, they weighed the gold on a pair of scales they had made out of two small sticks, threads of guanaco fiber and two trays of dried guanaco hide, and divided it up in the proportions agreed on by Schaeffer. If occasionally the old warm breath touched the two men, this weighing and division of the gold soon blew it