CHAPTER XLI.

CONCERNING THE ARMS OF THE ABIPONES, AND THEIR BATTLE-ARRAY IN FIGHTING WITH OTHER SAVAGES.

Different enemies must be combated with different arms. The Abipones, when they go out against the Spaniards, lay aside their breastplates of antas' skins, and their bows, and place their chief dependence in a swift horse and a strong lance; but when attacked at home by a foreign foe, whoever it may be, they make successful use of the bow, for, from the constant exercise of war and hunting, they acquire so much skill in the use of that weapon that they take a more certain aim with it than the Spaniards do with a gun.

Let us suppose that a rumour is spread throughout the hordes of the Abipones that the savages are speedily coming to attack them. If they have strength and courage sufficient to repel the enemy, trusty scouts are sent out in every direction to learn their route. The rest, meantime, make it their chief care to prepare a drink of honey, or the alfaroba, for a public drinking-party. For the Abipones think that they are never more acute in counsel, or braver in fight, than when they are drunk. Famiano Strada, in his history of the Belgic war, writes thus of Schenck, a celebrated general of the Belgians: "He never handled arms better than when he had drank profusely, and was intoxicated with wine." I have often found the same to be the case with the Abipones as with Schenck. In the colony of St. Ferdinand we learnt that a hostile troop of Mocobios and Tobas were advancing toward us by hasty marches, and were only two days' journey distant. The Abipones, astonished, not alarmed at this news, though very few, awaited the assault of numbers amidst drinking and songs of triumph. They spent two days with their horses shut up in stalls within the town, that they might be always in readiness, with their faces painted to excite terror, holding a cup in one hand, and a quiver in the other. Quinquagesima Sunday came. At three o'clock in the afternoon the troop of savage horse appeared in sight. The Abipones, though after such long drinking hardly in possession of their senses, or able to stand upon their legs, snatched up their spears, leaped upon their horses, which were made ready by the women, and, scattered in a disorderly manner up and down the plain, rushed full speed upon their enemies, amid the discordant bray of trumpets, with such good fortune, that, abandoning their project of plundering the colony, they sought security in the adjacent woods. But being prevented from this by the Abipones, they rushed off on all sides. The enemies hurried away at full gallop; the Abipones endeavoured to overtake them. It was not a fight, but a race between the fugitives and their pursuers. The contest consisted more in the swiftness of their steeds than in weapons, which were sent backwards and forwards, but, because badly aimed, without injuring very many. Our victors returned to the colony when the night was far advanced, some not till the morning, all safe and sound, (except one, whose head was bruised with a club,) and, what was very surprizing, quite sober, having exhaled the effects of the liquor, not with sleeping, but with riding and fighting. How many of the enemies were killed and wounded I do not know: but that more than two hundred were put to flight by seventy drunken men was a noble victory for us. Let us now treat of the other preparations which the Abipones make previous to a fight.

Every thing being in readiness for the drinking-party, which is held before a battle, their chief anxiety is to conceal their droves of horses from the eyes and hands of the enemy. Reserving the best within the neighbouring stalls, that they may be ready for the uses of war, they place the remainder in stations, access to which is rendered difficult to the enemy either by the high bank of a river, the intervention of a wood, or their ignorance of the way. They also look out for places of concealment for their wives and children, and all that are unable to defend themselves. The Spaniards told me they had often seen whole Indian families plunged up to the neck in lakes and rivers. As soon as ever a report is spread amongst the Abipones of the approach of an enemy, they immediately stain their faces, and carry about bundles of weapons, and a military trumpet, which they blow chiefly in the dead of the night, that the enemies may know from their scouts that they have shaken off all fear, and are vigilant and desirous of the conflict. When certified of the approach of the enemy's forces, they provide for their safety in various ways. If they are few in comparison with their adversaries, they make up for the want of strength by craft. That they may not be obliged to join in open battle, they use various artifices to prevent the enemy from gaining access to their stations. They set out on the road, and surprize them by an ambuscade, or make themselves appear more numerous by redoubled tumult of military trumpets, or leaving a number of drummers and trumpeters at a distance behind, pretend that they are only the part of a company that is to come after; or putting Spanish dresses on some of their men, make it appear as if they had Spanish soldiers at hand to give them aid. Misled by these artifices, the enemies not unfrequently give up their intention of fighting, and make the best of their way back again. Often, however, no opportunity is left them for stratagems. Compelled by a sudden inroad of the enemy, or allured by confidence of victory to resolve upon a combat, a piece of ground opposite the approaching enemy, and near the horde, is selected for the purpose, that they may be near their wives and children should they be in danger. Heralds are sometimes sent forward by the enemy to explain the causes of the war, and challenge the inhabitants to fight. But the bellowing of drums and trumpets, and horrid vociferations, are generally the only answer they obtain. Every thing preceding and accompanying a battle, is a spectacle worthy to be seen, and laughed at by Europeans. About the beginning of the conflict you may see jugglers mounted on horseback, who, making ridiculous gestures, and whirling round palm boughs in their hands, utter the direst imprecations on the hostile army: whilst old female jugglers are observed crawling on the ground, or leaping in the streets, and with sullen eyes and a hoarse voice, uttering some omen or curse. You may see the Abipones with their faces stained, with many-coloured feathers in their heads, and arms in their hands, some wearing breastplates, others entirely naked, enter the field with a marching gait, and appearing to threaten the whole world. You may see mountains in labour bring forth ridiculous mice. These heroes, when placed in order of battle, wish to be counted by the Father, as they cannot count themselves. As I walked up and down the ranks, I was frequently asked, "Are we many?" to which I constantly replied, "You are very many;" lest they should be disheartened at their want of numbers. Experience taught me that the towns were mostly attacked by a numerous enemy when very few of the inhabitants were left at home—the rest being dispersed far and wide for the sake of hunting. The sagacious savages make the assault when they have learnt from their spies that the colony is bare of defenders. They form themselves into a square, if the place will admit of it. I observed that they sometimes placed the archers in the midst, and the spearmen on each wing; at others, the archers and spearmen ranged themselves promiscuously. The Mocobios, Tobas, and Guaycurùs leave their horses a little way off, in sight, and join battle on foot. The Cacique, or any other person in authority, sits on horseback in the front of the army; but when the battle commences he dismounts and fights among the rest. The leaders of the Abipones are generally great fighters, as their example has more weight than words amongst the soldiers, who follow their leader with greater willingness when he is bravely fighting, than when he is exhorting them from a distance.

At first they stand in close ranks, but afterwards, when the enemy is to be attacked or repelled, in such loose ones that each soldier has a space of four or six cubits on every side. In fighting they never stand erect, or quietly on their feet. They run up and down with their bodies bent to the ground, and their eyes fixed on their adversaries, for the sake either of avoiding or aiming a blow. With a threatening voice they provoke the enemy by continually exclaiming _hò, hò, hò_, raising their voices from the lowest to the very highest tones. They rub their right hand every now and then on the ground, lest the string of the bow should slip from their fingers when they are moistened with perspiration. The Indians do not imitate the Europeans, who send a shower of darts at the same moment at the enemy. Each takes aim at his adversary with his arrow, so that one diligently watches the eyes and motions of the other, and, when he perceives himself aimed at, changes his situation by leaping to the right or left. Many weapons are cast, though seldom with impunity, at the leader of the army, and the most distinguished warriors. When one is often aimed at by many, had he more eyes than Argus, and were he more agile than the wind, no one can dare to promise him security; so that if he leave the field of battle unhurt, it is often to be attributed to good fortune, seldom to dexterity, and still seldomer to his leathern breastplate, which I myself have seen yield not only to spears, but even to the stronger arrows.

If their own arrows fail them they will send back those shot by the enemy. However, when their quivers are exhausted, as sometimes happens, and their souls fired by the combat, after having fought for some time, at a distance with a bow, they will come to close fighting with a spear. Neither then, however, will the plain be inundated with human blood. The savages have, indeed, great power in dealing blows, but they have still greater swiftness in eluding them. The whole combat is often confined to threats and vociferations. Sometimes many are wounded, but very few die in proportion to the number of wounds; for unless the head or breast be pierced they never despair of the man's life. They are used to consider broken ribs and immense gashes in the other members, as attended with little danger; they calmly look upon them without any expression of pain, and, half alive, reluctantly suffer themselves to be borne from the fight on other persons' arms. This I learnt, that these savages, unless flight be denied them, seldom dare the worst. Terrified at the slaughter of a very few of their fellow-soldiers, they desert their leader, and escape how they can. There is no need to sound a retreat. Should ten or twenty take to flight, the rest, freed from all restraint of shame, trust their lives to their horses, and rush along with the impetuosity of a river that has burst its banks. On urgent occasions you will see two or three seated on one horse. At the beginning of an engagement on foot, they take care that the means of flight may not fail them: behind the backs of the combatants, and out of reach of the weapons, they station horses, upon which young men sit, and safely watch the vicissitudes of the fight.

But if the enemy, finding the fortune of war against them, betake themselves to flight, they scarce have to fear a very obstinate pursuit from their adversaries, as the conquerors are very cautious not to forfeit their glory; they are unwilling, by a doubtful contest, to experience a change of fortune, and to undergo a new danger. A spear, or garment, taken from them in battle by their enemies, the Abipones consider a terrible disgrace to their nation, regarding the loss of it with as much grief as Europeans do that of their drums or standards. The Abipones never attribute victories, and the fortunate events of battles, to their own skill, but to the arts of their jugglers. Although they hold the other Paraguayrian nations in contempt, yet they allow the Guaycurùs to be formidable; they say that they are cut down like funguses by the spears of these savages, not because they excel them in goodness of arms, strength of body, or courage of mind, but because they enter the fight attended by far more skilful jugglers. The Cacique Alaykin affirmed to me, that persons blown upon by their breath fell to the ground, as if struck with thunder.

But now let us contemplate the Abipones triumphing after a successful fight. If the event has answered to their wishes they fill the country with joyful rumours of victory, and generally exaggerated accounts of the slaughter of the enemy. They who have behaved with distinguished valour have the ears and eyes of all directed towards them. They who have received wounds in the battle deliver themselves to be sucked to a crowd of juggler physicians, a multitude of spectators admiring and extolling their constancy and fortitude. Great numbers flock to behold the spoils and trophies taken from the enemy. The women, giving way to an excess of gladness, seem mad with joy; they would make no end of singing, leaping, and applauding, were they not obliged to turn their attention towards making preparations for the public drinking-party of their husbands; who, at the same time that they wash the horrible colours from their faces, endeavour to clear from their minds, with wine, their past anxiety respecting the conflict. In the assembly of drinkers, where the victory is celebrated amidst confused clamours, and songs accompanied with the sound of gourds and drums; when all are heated with liberal draughts of mead, each begins to relate his own brave actions, and to laugh at the errors, cowardice, and flight of others; which not being endured by any of the Abipones, the warriors contend furiously amongst themselves, first with fists, and then, growing more enraged, with spears and arrows. Did not the women interpose to effect a reconciliation, and employ themselves in snatching away their weapons, and leading their husbands home, it is beyond a doubt that more would be killed after the battle than in the battle.

If a battle be fought at a distance from the town, a horseman is sent forward to announce the success of it to the hordesmen. As soon as this messenger is espied from a distance, a crowd come out to meet him, striking their lips with their right hands, and accompany him to his house. Having preserved the profoundest silence he leaps down from his horse on to a bed; whence, as from a rostrum, he announces the event of the battle, with a grave voice, to the surrounding multitude. If a few of the enemy are killed and wounded, he begins his story with _Nalamichiriñi_; they are all slaughtered, which he utters with a severe countenance and declamatory tone, and receives the applauses of the by-standers. He then enumerates those that he himself has slain in battle, and to enhance the merit of the victory, affirms of many, _Eknam Capitan_; he was a captain. At every name that is mentioned of an enemy slain in battle the air resounds with _Kem ékemat? Ta Yeegàm!_ an exclamation of surprize. The number of captives, waggons, and horses, that have been taken, are then detailed with infinite exaggeration, for of each he asserts that they are innumerable; _Chik Leyé_ _kalipì_; at which the auditors burst forth into an exclamation of _Ndře_, by which they express a strange and unheard-of thing. Having minutely recounted every circumstance tending to set forth this arduous fight and splendid victory, he proceeds to discover those of his fellow-soldiers that have been wounded in the battle. At every name the by-standers groan, and utter the word _Tayretà!_ Poor little thing! As the Abipones think it a crime to utter the name of a dead person, the narrator makes use of a paraphrase, thus, _Yoalè eknam oanerma Hamelèn laneuek là chit kaekà_: The man, the husband of the woman Hamelèn, is now no more. The mention of the death of one of their countrymen entirely destroys all the pleasure which the news of the victory had excited; so that the announcer immediately finds himself deserted by his late attentive listeners, as soon as ever he begins to touch upon this melancholy subject. All the women unloose their hair, snatch up gourds and drums, and lament in the manner that I have described in the twenty-fourth chapter.

The Abipones, when returned from an expedition, enter their horde, not in one company, but separately, without ostentation, if victorious, and without signification of sorrow, if conquered, or even if desperately wounded, unless they have lost their leader. Then indeed they return with their hair partially shaven, to attest their grief, and convey the bones of their deceased Cacique home, not without funeral apparatus. The anxiously expected return of the warriors engages the eyes, ears, tongues, and hands of all; some surveying the droves of cattle, the captives, and spoils; others enquiring for the safety of their relations; others examining the wounds of the soldiers; and all the women lamenting. Each retains the captives, horses, mules, and other things that he has taken, unless, as usual amongst them, he chooses to share them with his friends. From one journey they often bring home many thousand horses, which they divide amongst themselves, with what regulations I know not, but without any disputes. On the succeeding days every one is eager to make trial of the horses which have fallen to his share in the partition of the spoils; they value swiftness alone, disregarding every beauty which adorns a horse. You may daily see a crowd of young men riding races with one another, and at the same time contending with words, each extolling his own above his neighbour's horse. The remembrance of the victory obtained over the enemy, disturbs as much as it delights their minds; for they live in continual fear that the enemy will speedily come to avenge the death of their people and loss of their property. Hence, in order to tranquillize their minds, and devise some method to keep off the foe, their chief care is to prepare a public drinking-party, that sure quickener, as they think, of the wit and exciter of valour.