CHAPTER XXV

VIZCACHA-HUNTING IN AN ARGENTINE DESERT--GIANT SNAKES

Our stay in Tucuman lasted but a few days. During this time our Quechua boy, who had been with us constantly since our first arrival in Cochabamba, spent most of his time at the zoological park. The lions, the tigers, even the camels did not interest him greatly; but the elephant! It was impossible that there could be any such animal. He spent hour after hour seated on the ground silently contemplating the great creature. I wondered what his people would say to him when he returned to them and attempted to describe what he had seen.

As our next efforts were to be directed toward a new province, it was again necessary to secure the very essential permits. This time there was no trouble. At Santiago del Estero, a backward city of small size and not particularly attractive appearance, we were required merely to be photographed and have our finger-prints taken, after which we received certificates stating that we had no police record in that state and were assumed to be respectable and trustworthy; the licenses to hunt were attached. We wasted no time in the city and took the first available train to Suncho Corral, about a five hours’ ride.

Suncho Corral is a collection of perhaps fifty adobe shacks, and its inhabitants seemed to be mostly Turks and Syrians. We paid our respects to the local _jefe_ without delay and he secured for us permission to camp on the landholding of a friend of his; the place was about a mile distant. We pitched the tents in a delightful grove on the bank of the Rio Salido. All the country is covered with a dense growth of cacti, shrubbery, and tall, thorny trees; it was unlike any we had seen before. There were a few small areas cleared of the indigenous growth and planted in corn, which thrived; water was supplied by irrigation. However, the people, who lived in widely separated huts, seemed to subsist mainly on their flocks of sheep, goats, and the limited number of cattle. There were so many dogs in the neighborhood that they were a plague. Each night numbers prowled about camp, barking, fighting, and trying to tear open bags of provisions. We did not know how to get rid of them without killing them, and this we did not wish to do; but our boy found a way. One night we heard series after series of yelps followed by frantic rushes to distant parts. Next morning we discovered that Antonio had set a dozen large, powerful “rat-killers” around the tent, baited with tempting morsels of meat. When a dog attempted to take the food it received a terrific blow across the nose--hence the yelps. We of course stopped the practice, but the dogs did not return in sufficient numbers to be troublesome.

The water of the Rio Salido is brackish and unfit for drinking. There were few fish--catfish and a species of _pacu_. We had no time for angling, but occasionally saw a string caught by some villager.

About the first bird to attract our attention was a species of wood-hewer with a curved bill three or four inches long. They were always seen in pairs or small flocks, often in company with the very common woodpecker (_Chrysoptilus_). Occasionally there were half a dozen of the former and twenty or more of the latter in a single party, on the ground, feeding on insects and larvæ that lived in the litter of bark and leaves under the giant cactus plants. They formed a noisy group, especially if alarmed, when they took to the trees or cacti and kept up a continuous chirping. They tried to keep on the far side of the trunks and branches, but curiosity prompted them to peep around the edges frequently to see what was going on. The giant wood-hewer (_Xiphocolaptes major_), as large as a mourning-dove and with a long, powerful beak, was far less common. Another bird frequently found in company with any or all of the former was a species of brush-bird the size of a blue jay, but of a brown color; it built stick-nests three feet across that must have weighed up to fifty pounds. We also saw for the first time a bird whose habits reminded us greatly of the road-runner. It ran along the ground with crest erected and tail held high, and was so wary that one could not approach it within shooting distance. But the moment it reached a thicket and hopped up into the branches it lost practically all caution and we could get to within a few yards of it. Perhaps the bird’s chief enemies are terrestrial--hence its extremely suspicious nature while on the ground, and the apparent feeling of safety when in a bush or tree.

Next, we again headed for the Chaco, having as our goal a station called Avia Terai, about half-way to Resistencia on the Paraguay River. The train was packed with Italian home-seekers; they were a noisy, quarrelsome lot. Many of them were drunk or ill, and so many unsavory things were occurring constantly in the coaches (there were no compartment-cars), that we remained in the buffet-car. An aged bishop, accompanied by two priests, were fellow passengers. The prelate got off at each stop to bless the crowds that had collected to see him, and then as many as possible knelt to kiss his ring before the train pulled out. After the trio returned to their table, the two priests promptly fell asleep while their venerable superior read from a small prayer-book. I wondered why he tolerated such sleepy, uninteresting companions. At midnight we reached Añatuya and changed to another train. This place was one of wild confusion. There were mountains of luggage piled on the platform, and mobs of excited people rushing wildly about in vain attempts to locate their belongings. I was alarmed over the safety of our own possessions, so stationed the faithful Antonio near the door of the baggage-car with instructions to let me know when unloading began; we then secured _peons_ to immediately carry the trunks and bags to our train, thus avoiding their being dumped on the huge piles, and perhaps lost.

In the early morning we reached Quimilí, at which place a siding branches off to Tintina; most of the immigrants went in this direction. The country was all flat and covered with grass. Later on clumps of forest appeared which grew larger and denser as we went farther east. There were numerous stops but no towns of any importance. At 2.30 P. M., the train halted at Avia Terai, and we were soon encamped in the rear of one of the two huts comprising that station.

About all we could see from our abode was an immense area covered with tall weeds, surrounded by dense forest. Sand-flies, called _polvoriños_, filled the air like flecks of dust so that we had to keep a smudge going most of the time. The people said there was a great deal of malaria in the neighborhood, and one look into their faces was ample to substantiate the statement. Usually it was very hot; it rained most of the time, but occasionally the nights were very cold--an altogether disagreeable combination of weather.

One of our trunks, containing all the instruments, had mysteriously disappeared from the baggage-car, so we had only a pocket-knife with which to work; but, by putting in longer hours we managed to keep up to our average daily number in preparing specimens. We gave the conductor of a passing train a tip of several _pesos_, and on his next run he brought us the missing trunk, saying that he had found it at a station a few miles below.

It was impossible to explore the country as thoroughly as we should have liked on account of the almost incessant rain. When the downpour did stop, which was at dusk, flocks of large, white-bellied night-hawks appeared and circled above the grass, catching insects. They were beautiful creatures, and always came back to the same restricted areas to feed on small black beetles that flew up in great numbers from the grass. As darkness settled over the Chaco the flocks suddenly dispersed and they disappeared singly in all directions. We found them spending the days in open places--out in the hot sun or rain. The railroad-track, or small plots where there was not even grass, were the favorite sleeping-sites chosen, and sometimes two or three were found together.

After a week we returned over the route we had come to a station called General Pinedo. This was a new settlement and several dozen board huts were being constructed on both sides of the track. Here there were seemingly limitless stretches of fine pampas with occasional small clumps of red quebracho-woods. Numbers of cattle grazed in the rich grass, and this place was much more attractive than the one we had just left. As might be supposed, the fauna was typical of the open country and included an abundance of short-eared and burrowing owls. The latter sat on fence-posts or on the mounds near their burrows all day long; at night they became very active and flew back and forth over the fields grabbing up beetles and small rodents with their feet. Their long, tremulous screeches pierced the darkness all night long.

On Sunday all the men congregated at the two rum-shops and tested their capacities for strong drink. Often the day ended in a series of brawls when knives and machetes were plied freely--once with fatal result to one of the _compadres_. I asked one of the guards what would be done with the murderer, who had promptly been arrested. He said that if he could give two hundred _pesos_ to the _commisario_ and ten to each of the guards, the matter would be dropped. Later I was told that the matter had been “fixed up” satisfactorily, but of course could not verify this.

June 14 found us in the village of Lavalle, in the heart of Argentina’s desert regions. When the train from Tucuman pulled out, leaving ourselves and our belongings on the station platform, we at once began to regret that we had come at all. The place looked decidedly uninviting. There was only the small cluster of adobe hovels, while all around stretched the cheerless waste of sandy desert. That there could be any considerable amount of wild life in the region seemed impossible; but, as we soon discovered to our unbounded delight, it was only one of the instances where first impressions are deceptive.

Our first care was to find a place where we could put up as we had come prepared to remain a week; so we inquired of the station agent if there was a _posada_ in town. He promptly said that there was none. Then we called on the judge, to whom we had a letter of introduction. He took us to the home of a kind-hearted old woman who immediately agreed to give us a room and board; and here let me insert that in no place in all South America were we treated with more courtesy and consideration than in the home of this venerable old woman, during the entire month we finally remained. Learning of our mission, her three daughters became very enthusiastic and plied us with information about the country, and the vast numbers of animals to be found within a short distance of their very doors. They told us that the country was teeming with vizcachas--large rodents that weigh up to twenty-five pounds and come out of their burrows only at night. We wanted to go out and hunt them at once but, unfortunately, there was no moonlight during the first part of our stay, so it was impossible to go in quest of them. We therefore devoted our time looking for other things.

Investigation showed that the country was not quite so barren as it had at first appeared. A short walk took us into a region where there was a dense growth of cacti and thorny shrubbery--so thick in fact that it was almost impossible to get through; many of the former plants were in bloom, the spiny columns being covered with large white, waxy flowers. Here and there a native hut adorned the top of a small rise in the landscape, and near by we were sure to see the inevitable flock of goats nibbling on the leaves of acacia and mimosa, and guarded by bad-tempered dogs. A little distance away from each hovel was a pond of considerable size; these fill up during the short rainy season and their contents are used to water the stock and to irrigate the small patches of corn and potatoes.

Everywhere we came across evidences of the animals about which we had heard so much. The country was dotted with huge mounds out of which large tunnels opened. From the mouths of the burrows lead deeply worn paths and in these the ground had been trampled into dust six inches deep. The mounds are built up by the vizcachas, of the earth thrown out of the tunnels, and they take advantage of the hillocks thus created by using them as observation-posts before going far away from their homes. The tops are often strewn with skulls and bones of the large rodents that have died in the burrows and which have been thrown out by the survivors. Burrowing owls sat on the mounds, and swallows flitted in and out of the openings below. There were also the telltale little foot-prints of numerous small animals which appropriated the vizcacha’s dwelling for their own use and apparently lived on peaceful terms with it. We wondered how far the tunnels ran underground, and how many species of animals occupied them, but there was nothing to give us a clue to the answer of either conjecture. As the time flew by, however, we learned many things, and one at least was of a startling character.

The days were cold and the sun shone at infrequent intervals. Desirous of taking some photographs, we selected one of the brightest days, and, armed with guns and cameras, we sallied forth. After a time we found a vizcacha mound which was conveniently situated, and walked around it a few times in order to find the best spot from which to take the picture. We noticed nothing unusual about it, and finally set up the camera and began to focus. While thus engaged, with my head under the black cloth, I was suddenly startled by a wild yell from my companion and looked just in time to see him make a long jump to one side. The reason was apparent. There, not three feet away, lay a huge boa emitting a hiss that resembled a jet of escaping steam. Why we had not seen it before is hard to understand, as it lay fully exposed on the bare ground; but probably it was because the great reptile had lain motionless. Now it was slowly crawling, and the broad, mottled back glistened beautifully in the sunlight, with a purple iridescent sheen. We poked, and finally touched it, but as it did not resent these advances we took its picture; then it seemed to grow weary of our attentions and made for the nearest hole, whereupon we shot it. Upon taking the snake to the village the natives told us that they were very abundant and lived down in the burrows with the vizcachas. During the cold season they crawl out at noon for a sun-bath, but are very sluggish. Subsequently, we saw many more, and even kept a number of them alive; they grew tame and friendly almost at once and never attempted to bite.

There are two distinct species, namely: the boa-constrictor, or land-snake; and the anaconda, which spends the greater part of its life in and near water. This latter attains the greater length. A fully grown boa-constrictor does not exceed twelve feet in length; ten or eleven feet is the usual size attained. There is a great difference in the tempers of the two species. A boa soon becomes very tame, and in many places the natives keep them running at large in the huts to catch rats. The anaconda is of a restless disposition and easily irritated. Both will bite if annoyed, and while they are not poisonous, they hold very tight with the strong, curved teeth so that if one tried to pull away from them the flesh would probably be torn to shreds.

Of course it is a well-known fact that snakes are descendants of the lizards; they have lost their legs, but in the boa two good-sized claws are still found on the under-side, near the tail, extending out a little distance from between the plates.

We collected a number of the giant reptiles for their skins. Skinning a boa-constrictor is not an easy undertaking. We always made an incision all along the under-side, from the neck to the end of the tail, and then loosened the skin from the tail end with a knife. This would leave enough of the body exposed for a good hand-hold; after this, one took hold of the body, and the other of the skin; then a real tug-of-war ensued as the skin very slowly peeled off. Sometimes it was necessary to throw a hitch around a tree in order to get a better grip on the body. After the skin was removed, it was scraped and tacked out on the wall and left for a few days to dry; it could then be rolled up and packed for shipment.

The skins tan beautifully, and make very desirable decorations for the mantel for den or library.

Other days we spent hunting tiger-cats, deer, jack-rabbits, rheas (South American ostriches), and others of the animals which were so abundant.

Early morning was the best time for cats. They could then be found in the open paths stalking cavies, with which the country swarmed, or tinamou. They are prettily spotted, and somewhat larger than a house-cat. Upon being seen they pause for a moment to gaze at the intruder, and then vanish into the bushes in a single bound. Small deer with spike-horns are not rare but are hard to get. They hide in the thick cover and can usually hear a person coming far enough away to disappear from the neighborhood without being seen. Rheas travel about in bands but are wary; it is almost impossible to approach them on foot, and they soon learn to regard a man on horseback with suspicion. The natives kill large numbers with rifle and bolas; they eat the flesh and sell the feathers. Three years ago I saw sixty tons of rhea feathers in a single warehouse in Buenos Aires, all of which had been taken from killed birds and were destined to be used in making feather dusters. However, the bird is still abundant. Many large flocks are kept on cattle-ranches. The eggs, the contents of which are equal to a dozen hen’s eggs, are sold in the markets during the laying season.

At last the long-awaited time arrived when the full moon lighted up the landscape, so we made preparations to go in pursuit of the wily vizcacha. The judge sent word for us to be ready early one afternoon as he was going to accompany us, and we could spend a few hours beforehand to advantage looking for other things. Two o’clock found us clamoring at his door, and a few minutes later we had started on our excursion.

The judge carried a double-barrelled shotgun of European make; his ten-year-old son, whom he always called the _secretario_, had a “nigger-killer,” a large bag full of pebbles and a machete; he was a fine little fellow, always friendly, always polite, and nothing suited him better than to tramp at his father’s heels on the long excursions into the country. I had my Parker which had served me so splendidly in many places.

For an hour or two we tramped broad reaches of cactus desert; but it was silent as the very sphinx, and we saw nothing. However, as the sun began to drop slowly out of sight, things began to stir. At first we heard a shrill turkey-like gobble some distance away, and holding up his hand to command silence, the judge whispered: “_Chuña_; they are right over there. You and the _secretario_ go down this little path, and I’ll go on this side; _quien sabe?_ we might head them off.” His fine Spanish face beamed with excitement as he turned away.

We sneaked along for a distance of a hundred yards, and presently I saw a pair of gray forms moving swiftly away underneath the thorny growth. They looked like fleeting shadows, and there was time for a hurried shot only. The _secretario_ rushed forward and triumphantly brought back a large, crested, crane-like bird of a uniform gray color, the common name of which is seriema. In some ways the bird resembles a hawk. It lives on the ground and eats grasshoppers, cavies, mice, and almost anything it can catch and swallow; at night it roosts in the trees. Its flesh is excellent. Perhaps no bird is more wary or harder to hunt in this entire region, so we were highly elated with our first shot.

Many birds began to appear now; there were the long-billed brown wood-hewers we had seen at Suncho Corral; Argentine “road-runners” which perked their tails and sped away into the thickets; large brownish _leñadores_, singing on the edges of their huge nests; there were also woodpeckers, hawks, cardinals, and doves.

The judge suggested that we visit one of the reservoirs as we might find ducks there, and calmly floating on the very first one we came to was a small flock of shovellers; they saw us just too late, and one was added to the bag as they rose from the water.

We now cut across a little field from which the corn had been gathered, and here we were kept busy for some time picking off the swift-winged tinamou as they rushed away at our approach. I know of no bird which furnishes better shooting or better eating, and the pity of it is that it does not exist in our own country. After we had shot a number, the judge suggested that we might try for a fox as they would soon be prowling about, so he tied a string to the foot of one of the freshly killed birds and the _secretario_ dragged it on the ground after him as he walked along. Some time later we sat down to rest, and much to my surprise a fox appeared on the trail of the bird; as he stopped short, at sight of us, the judge bagged him, and he proved to be the largest and the finest of the dozen or more we succeeded in getting during our entire stay. These foxes, which are of a rich gray color, silver-tipped, spend a great part of their time in dens in the vizcacha burrows, but seem to feed principally on tinamou and other birds.

Cavies without number ran about under the low bushes, and uttered queer little squeaks as they became frightened and dashed into the holes which honeycombed the ground; but of the giant cavy we had not a glimpse until we entered a dry, little gully; there we were just in time to see a fleeing, rabbit-like form, which was added to our assortment.

As the sun set, large flocks of blue-crowned parrakeets flew screaming overhead to seek their sleeping-quarters in the tops of the gnarled, stunted trees; and gray-throated parrakeets hurried to their bulky stick nests to chatter and quarrel before settling for the night. The latter species is an abundant bird in the Chaco of Brazil and Paraguay as well as in the Argentine. In the Argentine its range extends eastward into the province of Tucuman, while it is most plentiful in Santiago del Estero. They are extremely noisy and live and travel in flocks of a dozen to several thousand individuals. Should one approach a tree in which a band is feeding or resting, all chatter is hushed. But the birds crane their necks and noiselessly clamber to points of vantage from which they suspiciously eye the intruder. Then there is a sudden burst of wild screams as the whole colony takes wing and swiftly departs at great speed. They feed largely upon the thistle and on cactus fruits as well as on grain when it is to be had.

The nests vary in size from those containing not more than an armful of twigs, and occupied by a single pair of birds, to huge structures weighing several hundred pounds and harboring a dozen families. Frequently three or four nests are placed in the same tree, and usually a number of trees in a given area are occupied. The ground beneath the domiciles is strewn with a thick litter of old nesting material that has fallen from the disused bulky masses above.

The nesting cavities are in the under-side of the “apartments,” and entrance to them is gained through tubular openings underneath, which prevents opossums from entering them. It is not unusual to find a family of the marsupials living in a cavity in the upper part of the structure, but so strongly are the twigs interlaced that they are unable to tear their way through the thorny mass to the toothsome morsels that are so tantalizingly near. The birds occupy the nests throughout the year and it is rare to find them entirely deserted at any hour of the day. The eggs are white, slightly glossy, and of an oval shape; five to eight comprise a set. With the approach of darkness small birds seemed to disappear among the cacti. The _secretario_ kept up a constant fusillade with his sling, but he was a poor shot and did no damage.

Finally the judge suggested supper, so we sat down on a fallen cactus trunk from which the spines had decayed, and enjoyed the bread, sausage, and tangerines which the boy fished out of the bag containing his pebbles and sundry articles; then, in answer to our call, a plump Quechua squaw brought a gourd of water from her near-by hovel; we gave her a cigarette in return, which pleased her so much that she showed us a wonderful vizcacha village not far distant, which, she said, harbored the largest and fattest of the rodents to be found in the district; she also agreed to take charge of our game so that we would not be hampered with it the rest of the evening.

The great silvery moon now began to peep above the cloudless horizon, and in a few minutes the whole country was flooded with light. Not a plant grew on the broad acres the Indian woman had pointed out; there was only the dead stump of a cactus here and there, but these loomed tall and ghostlike in the mellow light. Soon we heard deep, guttural grunts, followed by shrill squeaks, and in a low tone the judge said “vizcachas.” Then he dug down into his pockets and produced some beeswax and cotton, so each of us fixed a small fluff on the sight of our guns, and were then ready for business. We had not gone a hundred yards, after this, when the judge pointed to a mound ahead, and there, looming high above the yellow earth, sat some great, restless creature, squeaking and grunting. My companion had explained to me the business of stalking, a score of times, so I set out as directed, making a wide détour in order to get behind a cactus stump; but I am afraid the excitement was too great and I went too fast, for the first thing I knew there was a glimpse of a fleeting, shadowy form, a sharp, shrill squeal, and the mound was bare.

A few minutes later we could make out another animal some little distance away, so the judge went after it; he crept up cautiously, pausing at frequent intervals; then there was a bright flash, followed by a loud report, and we all rushed forward to pick up the first vizcacha. His disappointment was great when he found that he had “potted” a nice little cactus stump.

It was not long before we saw another of the animals. It being my turn, I began to stalk, profiting by past experience. The creature was outlined clearly, and frequently it sat up to look about; then the white breast showed distinctly. When the vizcacha sat up, I stopped; when it dropped down on all fours, I crept on. At forty yards I took the shot, and this time luck was with us. When we reached the spot the animal was tumbling about, and the judge yelled not to touch it, as they can inflict serious wounds with their sharp teeth and claws. At this stage of the game the _secretario_ came in for his share of the work; he followed the dancing form in its erratic course, and finally dealt it a blow on the neck with the blunt side of the machete, killing it. It was a splendid specimen, weighing a trifle over eighteen pounds, as we later discovered. It differed from the species found in the high mountains in having a shorter tail and coarse fur, besides being much larger; the appearance of the former had always brought to my mind a combination of a squirrel and a rabbit; this creature was, well, simply a vizcacha; there is nothing else like it. The color is slaty-blue on the back and white underneath.

After that the animals began to appear on all sides as the village was very large and there were numerous mounds; it was therefore a comparatively easy matter to secure the half-dozen we wanted, although I am compelled to admit that each of us shot at least one more stump before the evening was over. If not killed by the first shot, the creatures frequently tumble into their burrows and are lost. The males leave the hiding-places first, and after spending a short time looking about from the top of the mounds, spread out over the surrounding country to feed; the females follow a short time later, and both return at the break of day. On account of their great numbers in some parts of the country, they destroy vast areas of pasturage and are therefore looked upon as vermin. We heard the reports of guns frequently, not far away, indicating that other hunting-parties were out. The flesh of the animal is greatly esteemed by the natives.

Another of the _secretario’s_ duties was to carry the game; but this was soon too heavy for him, so we helped. Then he made the discovery that the animals were covered with fleas, ticks, and other parasites, and that this host of unwelcome guests preferred him to the dead creatures he was carrying; we made the same discovery, so hired an Indian to lug the trophies home for us.

While homeward bound we crossed a small open place where not a plant grew, and the sand shimmered with a dull glow. Coming directly for us was a white, plume-like, waving object which could hardly be distinguished from its surroundings, but when both the judge and the _secretario_ shouted _Zorino_ I knew enough to shoot, and shoot to kill. We waited a moment to see whether the animal was dead, then approaching carefully, I picked up a fine skunk. Just then his mate put in an appearance on the edge of the opening, and there was no choice but to add her to the collection. When it came to carrying home these additions to the bag, even the Indian balked, so I tied them to the end of my gun-barrel and carried them in this manner. Early the next morning the entire town came to see the _Zorinos_; the scent had penetrated into the furthermost hut, and they had unerringly traced it to its source.

Few things could be more delightful than the tramp home across the desert; the clear moonlight, the crisp air, and the tremulous wail of an owl, all added enchantment to the night’s outing; and, above all, we had had a capital good time, and cemented a friendship, as only a trip of this kind can, with our kindly Argentine host. He is a splendid fellow, a peerless companion; and one of my fondest hopes is that I may some day again tramp the moonlit Argentine deserts in his company.