Chapter 7

It was after twelve when at last we made a start. There were the Chief, the sergeant, a corporal, four men, and myself. We rode slowly in a northerly direction until we came to a small gate in the fence, of which I had the key. All the way thither the Chief, while commending me for my forethought in bringing arms, had been impressing upon me the importance of not using them, no matter what happened, "Because, you see, you are not an arm of the law, and if you were to shoot anyone, I should be obliged to arrest you and send you to Santa Fé."

When we got through the fence, what was my surprise when the Chief said, "Bueno, Don Ernesto, you and I have had a long day. What I propose is that you and I off-saddle and doss down here, while the sergeant and men patrol with muffled bits and spurs at a short distance from the fence. Then the moment they hear anything they can come and let us know!"

In vain I protested that this was not my idea at all, and that I too wanted to do the patrolling, but when he told a man to take the saddle off my horse and shake down a bed for me, I thought it wiser to acquiesce, or, at least, appear to do so. I shall never forget that night. How we talked and talked and talked as we lay beneath the brilliant stars, I, boiling with rage and anxiety under my assumed tranquillity, while he, doubtless, was as much annoyed at having to keep me in conversation. It must have been nearly four o'clock when I told him that I really must sleep. "Bueno," said he, as he rolled over on his side, "hasta mañana."

In five minutes he was snoring. Even so, I did not dare to move, for fear that he might be foxing. About an hour passed, during which he moved, coughed, expectorated, and had other signs of conscious animation, much to my disgust, until at last I thought the snoring sounded too genuine to be shammed, so I crept towards him and whispered in his ear that I thought I heard sounds of movement. But his snoring was rhythmic and swinish, so I gathered up my saddle and gear and stole over to my horse, which was picketed some yards off, and proceeded to saddle him up. In doing so, my stirrups somehow clashed and thought it was all up, for what a fool I should look if he woke and discovered me. But it was all right: the music continued.

I led the horse for some little distance, then mounting, I rode him down alongside the fence for about a mile until I came to a fresh gap in it.

Horror! Even though it was but what my suspicions had depicted, the realisation came as a shock to me. "The--! The--!" To repeat my expressions would edify no one.

Guided by the signal-lights at the station, I moved along at a smart trot and soon recognised the quick tramping of animals ahead. Then I drew back, and as the day was just breaking, I drew round to the west side of the cavalcade, so that I might see without being seen. Yes, sure enough, there were six military chacots outlined against the great sky and a troop of animals ahead of them.

I halted to let them get well away from me, and then, with rage and hatred in my heart, swearing vengeance all the while, I galloped as hard as ever I could to the estancia, to impatiently await the uprising of my boss.

"We must wire, or one of us must go to the Governor in Santa Fé at once," I urged. But what was my disgust to be met with but a quiet smile of amusement!

"Not if I know it," said he. "Why, good God, man, do you want to have all our throats cut? This man is a personal friend of the Governor's, and what satisfaction do you think we are likely to get out of that?"

"Then let us go to the Consul, the British Minister, or even to the President of the Republic?"

A quiet smile with a negatory shake of the head was the only answer.

A fortnight later I sought him in his private sitting-room and found the Chief of Police sitting in an easy-chair.

"Ha! ha! ha! Don Ernesto. So you caught us, did you? Well, it was worth the fun. I never laughed so much in all my life as when I awoke that morning and found that you had given me the slip!"

A VISIT TO THE NORTHERN CHACO.

After three years on an estancia in the vast monotonous, treeless, but most fertile plains of the Central Argentine, under scorching sun, driving rains, and biting wind, one feels that one would like to see a river sometimes, animal life and more congenial surroundings; and so I determined to visit the Northern Chaco, that enormous tract of land which lies North of Santa Fé and stretches right away for many hundreds of miles to North, East, and West.

Leaving Rosario by the night express, one crosses the great, slightly undulating plains, probably among the richest in the world for the growth of wheat, linseed, and maize, reaching Santa Fé early the following morning. This town, the capital and Government centre of the province, is rather an uninteresting place; chiefly noticeable in it are the great number of fine churches and the magnificent sawmills owned by a large French company. Santa Fé is supposed to be one of the most religious centres in the Republic. More than once it has almost been washed away in an eddy of the giant Parana in flood, the water rising four feet in the houses on the highest level in the town.

After spending a day of sight-seeing in Santa Fé, we embarked at nightfall for Vera, the headquarters of the Santa Fé Land Company's wood department, arriving there in the early morning. The land around here from the train appears to be a dry, salty country, devoid of herbage, and only valuable on account of the excellent forest trees and timber.

Our morning meal was taken in the station waiting-room (the only restaurant in the town), and consisted of cold coffee and what the Argentine understands by boiled eggs, which have in reality been in boiling water half a minute, and which, in order to eat, one has to tip into a wine-glass and beat up with a fork, adding pepper and salt, etc. This is the general way of eating eggs in South America; an egg cup is one of the few things one cannot get in the country without going to an English store in Buenos Aires.

Leaving Vera at 8 a.m. the train goes at a snail's pace along the branch line to Reconquista, covering the distance of about thirty leagues in five hours. Arriving there in the sweltering midday heat, we were met by an English friend and his capataz, the latter dressed in his enormous slouch hat, deerskin apron, and silver spurs weighing probably a full kilo.

One cannot help noticing at once the different type of natives; from the slow, slouching, don't-care kind of men, which one sees in Cordoba and Southern Santa Fé, to the quick, straight, hawk-eyed half-Indian Chaquenos.

Reconquista on a hot summer's day is one of the dirtiest places on this earth, which is saying a good deal. One drives through streets two feet deep in light sandy dust, which hangs in clouds all over the town. There is an excellent hotel in the centre of the town, built on typical Spanish plans with fine large open patios, which are filled with splendid tropical plants and ferns. Having washed off the dust of three days' travel from our weary persons, and having changed into more suitable travelling gear, we sat down to an excellent spread.

In the cool of the evening we made a tour of the town, being most interested in the cigar factories, where we bought excellent smokes for $2 a hundred, all hand-made from pure tobacco leaf by the brown-hued lasses of Reconquista.

The rest of the evening we spent in unpacking our native saddles, and preparing everything for our long horseback journey--not having forgotten to see that our tropilla of fifteen grey ponies were fit and ready to make an early start next morning.

Three a.m. next morning found us out in the "corrales" having our ponies allotted to us by the capataz--we found the tropilla on "ronda"--that is, in a corner with a lasso tied across in front of them, the height of their chests, and all facing outwards. This is the most general way of teaching horses to stand in the Chaco, as, if taught to stand singly, they would fall too easy a prey to the Indians and gauchos. In order to saddle these ponies we had to "manear" them, that is, tie their forelegs together, for without this they refused to let us put the blankets on their backs.

All being ready, we started off, four of us, two in front and two behind, with eleven loose ponies between us. By this time the sky was beginning to grow light, and evidently the fresh morning air had disagreed with my friend T.'s horse, which suddenly cleared down a side street with his head between his forelegs and his back arched like the bend in an archer's bow.

After some seconds of this amusing sight T. managed to get the pony's head up and came along again, looking very warm and beaming; his pink-nosed pony quite satisfied that he would have to carry more than his own weight for some distance further.

Leaving Reconquista on the north we crossed, over an old railway embankment, a large stretch of low country, through which a small stream glided with winding course, and jogging along league after league we gradually got into more interesting country: little clumps of trees with very thick undergrowth, clinging creepers, bright-coloured flowers, and gorgeously plumaged birds.

All along the sides of the roads were little farms, apparently uncultivated, except for small patches of wonderfully grown maize and browning linseed. Practically all these farms are owned by Swiss and German peasants, each one with his small herd of cows and working bullocks.

We changed our ponies every three or four leagues, always going at the same jog-trot, stopping occasionally at a wayside inn to wet our parched throats with fresh well water (with a drop of caña in it to kill the microbes), and smoking hard all the time to keep off the swarms of mosquitoes.

After travelling ten leagues or so we began to leave these habitations behind us, and got into wilder country with no fences, only long stretches of undulating land, dotted with patches of splendid-looking trees and enticing shade.

The road occasionally crossed small streams, which gradually became more tropical looking, until we came to quite a large river, two or three hundred metres wide, looking beautifully peaceful and oily. Standing above on the bank, in the shade of some magnificent quebracho trees, we looked down upon this lazy stretch of perfect scenery, when suddenly there was a slight disturbance in the water and a small black dot appeared on the top of the water. The capataz at once pulled out his revolver, all of us doing likewise, only to have to put them back again, as the dot had disappeared as quickly as it came. This was the first sign of wild animal life we saw, the "jacaré" or alligator. In the more civilised parts of the Chaco, these animals, as well as the carpincho or water-hog, are getting quite rare, and having been so much shot at and worried they need the most careful stalking.

As we got further away, we came upon many more of these streams, all looking much the same; some had bridges over them made of quebracho logs, laid endways on and covered with earth, very dangerous to cross after wet weather or floods, especially at night, as they are generally full of holes where the earth has fallen in.

At 10 a.m. each day we unsaddled for lunch, which was generally composed of "charque" or salted beef, biscuits, and coffee. The first night we slept at the last habitation which we saw, a small wayside inn. Arriving there late in the evening, we had the greatest difficulty in obtaining entrance on account of the chorus of barking, snapping dogs, and on account of the innkeeper's fear of drunken gauchos.

Another early start on the second day saw us well on our journey by siésta time, which we spent on the edge of a very fine forest. The afternoon was very hot, and we did not start off again until 4 o'clock. During the evening we swam across a small river which we found overflowing its banks on account of the local rains, and, as darkness fell, we found it almost impossible to see our way on account of the fireflies, which made such a glare in front of us that the slight track which we had been following was almost invisible. It was a very dark night, and once or twice we felt rain. We had to go very slowly, so that we should not miss the track. Thus we trotted on in Indian file, each of us now leading spare horses, in silence, except when one of us asked how many leagues it was to the estancia, only to jog on again for what seemed two or three hours, until almost midnight. With a cheerful yell we suddenly came on a barbed wire fence, and after hunting about for a time, a wire gate.

Immediately tongues seemed to be mechanically loosened and the conversation flowed freely, discussing the ride, horses, coming stiffness, and all the things that one has to talk about after two and a-half days in the saddle. On reaching the estancia about 2 a.m., none of us needed much bed, and throwing our things down on the grass outside, we soon were dreaming of alligators, broken bridges, swimming rivers, etc.

About 10 o'clock the next morning I awoke to find myself on a most neat little estancia high up on a hill, overlooking, across a slight valley, magnificent forests where one could see the glint of running water.

The house was brick floored and had four very nice rooms, which had been colour-washed by my friends with excellent success. The ceilings at once attracted attention, being of a deep-coloured black wood, well oiled and seasoned. "Timbo" it is called, and is the best carving and furniture wood in the country.

Out in the garden were oranges, lemons, citrons, pomegranates, limes, and all kinds of luxurious fruits and vegetables. In a small fenced paddock at the end of the garden, were sweet potatoes, pea-nuts, cotton, tobacco, and some magnificent maize.

The men's huts were made of mud over a cane network, and the roofs were made of split palm trees, hollowed out and made in the form of a large ~~~~~~~ the palms being placed concavely and convexly alternately, making fine drainage for the heavy rains. The whole place was surrounded by a ring of fine chaco paraiso trees and "ombu." The horse corrals were all _palo a pique_, that is, made of solid posts, stuck in close together side by side, and about two metres high, with no wire.

The camp was more or less on the real banks of the Parana, sloping away to the river four leagues away, and forming one of the most fertile spots in the Republic. This low-lying land is the finest and cheapest grazing in the north, but it is unreliable because it is quite inundated in time of floods, when the cattle have to be withdrawn to higher camp.

During various excursions on the following days we saw tracks of "tigers" (leopard) and "lions" (puma); the kill of the latter, a small gazelle buck, "guasuncho," we found neatly covered up with grass and leaves, and easily distinguishable from the tiger's kill, which is always left uncovered. A very fine tiger's skin was brought in one night, measuring 1.84 metres from the tip of the nose to the root of the tail, and 1.56 metres across. The man had suddenly come across it while on foot in the monte, and after wounding it with his Winchester had run it down with his dogs and killed it.

One evening we caught sight of a tapi (tapir) coming down to drink, but were unable to shoot on account of the bad light. Each day we saw many wild pigs ("chancho moro") and various kinds of wild cats, including the splendid "gato once" or ounce cat, whose skin is one of the finest, and only to be compared with the "lobo" or golden otter, which has a most magnificent fluffy pelt with a golden tint on the tips. The latter is unfortunately getting very rare now.

The great wolf or "aguaras" is still common, and is a very stately beast, as he slopes along with his hind-quarters well under him, with pricked ears and shaggy black mane.

The forests here are mostly in long strips and clumps, with excellent pasture land between them; and they contain, among other commoner chaco trees, lance wood, four crowns, and tala. Amongst the strange trees there is one enormous broad-leafed tree called "guapoij," which has long creeping roots, which cling on to neighbouring trees and gradually pull them down and absorb all their goodness, killing them, and in some marvellous way apparently eating them up. One finds occasionally one of these trees embracing another bigger than itself, and gradually rooting it out of the ground.

On all low ground one generally finds "Zeibos"--a tree with very soft wood and very pretty branches of scarlet flowers.

The wild apricot or "ijguajay" grows everywhere, and looks a very tempting fruit, fatal, however, to most Europeans, as it is a very powerful purge. The Indian children eat the fruit with joy, and it apparently has no bad effect on them.

The forests are full of all kinds of animals, and, in addition to those already mentioned, there are red deer, black and brown monkeys, and bear, and the ring-tailed coons, which latter make noises like the grunting of pigs.

Of ground game there are foxes, tattoo or mulita, armadillo, and ostriches.

Amongst the birds the most common are various kinds of hawks, including some very much like the great bustard, English brown buzzard, and osprey falcon, and two or three kinds of parrots and cockatoos, the green parrots being the curse to agriculturists, eating all the maize, as the locusts do in the South.

There are many different kinds of "carpinteros" or woodpeckers, most of them having most wonderful plumage of brown, green, scarlet, blue, and yellow.

A strange bird which is not often seen is the "tucan," a small black bird, with a beak almost as big as his body, and of a splendid orange colour with a scarlet tip; he is a top-heavy looking little chap when seen seated on an orange tree, his favourite haunt.

Amongst table birds there are grey pheasants, martinetta, and partridges. Of wild fowl, there are enormous varieties, including the "pato real" or great tree duck, whistling mallard, various kinds of teal and shovellers, widgeon, muscony and hooded duck, black-headed geese, grey geese, and swans. Amongst water-birds are the black, grey, and white "garza" or heron. The latter are especially valuable on account of the splendid feathers on the back of their necks. Of the smaller birds there is the gallinetta, a kind of landrail, the curse of hunters shooting wild duck, their wretched screech warning every bird in the district. The beautifully coloured and almost transparently winged golden moorhen covers every stretch of water inland, and the "chaja" or wild turkey, one of the most useless birds in the Chaco, and quite uneatable, sends forth his dismal cry "chaja."

The kingfishers are, perhaps, the most noticeable of all the river birds, and are of all sizes, from the small European variety to one almost ten times their size. Gorgeously plumaged, they skim, like flashes of light, over the water, which is full of all kinds of fish including "Dorado," a splendid fighting fish, excellent eating, which can be caught with rod or fly, and goes up to 10 kilos in weight; "Suravi," a great mud fish, which is seen sometimes basking out of water, weighing up to 50 kilos, with enormous head, and good eating; "Savala," the mud-eating cruiser, which one sees nearly always with its tail out of water, and which makes excellent revolver shooting; "Palmieta," the curse of the Chaco streams and rivers, making bathing unadvisable on account of its hostile assaults on the extremities of all foreign bodies; and the "rallo," or sun fish, a large flat fish with a long tail.

Thus was spent a week of happy days of excursions and explorations, where sometimes we had to walk through great distances of undergrowth and the everywhere-abundant prickly cactus, cutting our way with large cavalry swords, always with our eyes skinned to catch sight of some strange bird, beast, or flower. Sometimes we waded for miles through swamps, which, in some places, abound with enormous water snakes up to 6 metres long.

We put up all kinds of water-fowl, as we struggled on, splashing through rivers, clambering up and skeltering down slippery banks, reaching home tired and weary every night to recount all the day's doings, sitting out in the patio in the cool evening, eaten up by mosquitoes.

So ended my holiday, with hurried packing, much toast-drinking, and a final little farewell dance to the accompaniment of guitar, gramophone, mouth-organ, and accordion. The journey south was of no great interest, half on horseback, half in "galera," or public mail coach, with, as fellow passengers, a German traveller, a curé (most jovial of beings, who had brought enough food with him to feed a whole regiment), a head of police and his men, and two coach boys.

The coach, with five young horses tied in abreast, went bumping and jolting along hour after hour, until we came to a big river, unfortunately in flood. The horses were unhitched, tied together and swum across; a boat coming from some unseen corner, took passengers and luggage across, leaving the coach itself alone, with a long wire tied to the end of the pole. The horses were fastened to the end of this wire on the other side of the river, and then, with a whoop and a cheer, the coach tumbled head-over-heels into the raging flood, twisting and turning in all ways, first one side up and then the other, until at last it reached the near bank. And so we travelled on, back to civilisation; a tiring journey in dust and heat by rail, bringing us home to the same old flat, treeless, priceless plains of the Central Argentine, to dream for many days of birds, fishes, animals, flowers, trees, good friends, and the fine natives of the Northern Chaco.

WORK IN THE WOODS.

WORK IN THE WOODS.

The worker in the forests is of necessity an early riser, the nature of his task requiring that he should be up betimes. His preparations for breakfast are simple, and he is ready to start out after half an hour spent in imbibing a few matés full of yerba infusion. The cartmen tie in their bullocks, kept overnight in a corral, and drive off to bring in wood prepared by the axemen, the bullock-herd takes his charges to pasture and the men's employer mounts his horse to visit the camp of his axemen, or goes to the store to fetch meat and provisions. The axemen generally live in tents or temporary shelters, convenient to their work, and some distance from the contractor's rancho. They have to work hard, stripped to the waist in summer; they fell the trees, and either square the logs for baulks and sleepers, or cut the bark and outside layer of white wood off to make logs for export, working by moonlight when the heat of the day is excessive. Their food consists of biscuits, called Galleta, dried to the consistency of flint; these they soften in soup made from fresh meat or dried "Charki." To this soup is added rice, maize, or "Fido's," which is coarse macaroni.

The favourite roast, called the "Asado," is made from ribs of beef impaled on a stick and placed near the fire till sufficiently cooked. This delicacy, usually as hard as nails, is enjoyed by the men, who cut off portions, which they hold in their teeth, while, with a jack-knife, mouthfuls are sawn off close to the nose, at the risk of shortening that organ. Water is drunk, or coffee sweetened liberally with moist sugar. This coffee is made in the country, chiefly from beans or maize, with a large percentage of chicory to give it body.

It is picturesque to see a long string of carts enter a deposit to the sound of pistol cracks from long whips, and to watch the cartmen unload the heavy logs.