ARGENTINA AND HER PEOPLE OF TO-DAY

Works of NEVIN O. WINTER

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass.

PLAZA DE MAYO, BUENOS AIRES ([See page 35])

ARGENTINA AND
HER PEOPLE
OF TO-DAY

AN ACCOUNT OF THE
CUSTOMS, CHARACTERISTICS, AMUSEMENTS,
HISTORY AND ADVANCEMENT
OF THE ARGENTINIANS, AND
THE DEVELOPMENT AND RESOURCES
OF THEIR COUNTRY

BY
NEVIN O. WINTER

Author of “Mexico and Her People of To-day,”
“Guatemala and Her People of To-day,”
“Brazil and Her People of To-day,” etc.

ILLUSTRATED FROM ORIGINAL AND SELECTED
PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR

BOSTON
L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY
MDCCCCXI

Copyright, 1911,
By L. C. Page & Company
(INCORPORATED)

All rights reserved

First Impression, April, 1911

Electrotyped and Printed by
THE COLONIAL PRESS
C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, U.S.A.

TO
Elizabeth Eleanor
AND
Charles Winter
Coyle

PREFACE

The Spaniards who first visited the coast of Argentina, and sailed up the broad and imposing river that empties into the Atlantic Ocean, were so impressed with the outlook and prospects, that they named the country Argentina, which means silvery or silver-like, and bestowed upon the majestic stream the name Rio de La Plata, which means river of silver. When their prospectors failed to find the great deposits of gold and silver, which had been described to them by the natives, this province lost much of its importance, and soon dwindled into comparative insignificance. The city, which was founded near the mouth of that river, continued for more than two centuries a comparatively unimportant place.

It remained for a later age to develop the real wealth of Argentina, a treasure far greater than mines of gold or silver. The growth of population, and the increase in manufacturing, to which were devoted the energies of many European countries, made imperative the development of new sources of food supplies. The rich pampas of Argentina, which had heretofore been of comparatively little worth, and of which square leagues were almost given away by the government to any one who would pay the taxes, began to attract attention. Experiments showed that the soil was well adapted to the cultivation of all the cereals grown in temperate regions. The construction of refrigerator vessels, by means of which frozen meat could be carried across the equator to Europe, and delivered there in as good condition as when it was started, stimulated the live-stock industry to gigantic proportions. The result has been that Argentina is to-day one of the greatest food-producing countries on the face of the globe.

At the present time Argentina stands at the head of all the republics south of the United States in commercial importance. Its imports and its exports greatly exceed those of any of the other countries, and its population is rapidly growing. The people are energetic, resourceful and ambitious. Its capital is one of the great cities of the world. It has been the aim of the writer in the preparation of this work to present a complete treatise upon that country, which shall cover not only its resources, their present development and the possibilities of the future, and a brief but comprehensive history of the republic, but a study of the people and their characteristics, and the new race which is growing up as a result of the amalgamation of the different elements that are now pouring into it. In the preparation of the work there has been not only an extensive first-hand study, but the works of the leading writers upon that country have been consulted, so that the author’s view-point might be broadened and a more accurate survey result.

The author wishes to acknowledge his obligation to Hon. Charles Hitchcock Sherrill, Minister Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary of the United States to Argentina, for many courtesies received at his hands, to the Pan-American Union and its able director, and to the Bulletin published under its auspices, for similar courtesies and permission to use two or three photographs which appear in this work.

Toledo, Ohio, March, 1911.

MAP of ARGENTINA

Transcriber’s Note: The map is clickable for a larger version, if the device you’re reading this on supports that.

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

ARGENTINA AND HER PEOPLE OF TO-DAY

CHAPTER I
THE COUNTRY

With the single exception of Brazil, Argentina is the largest country in South America. It is about one-third the size of the United States. It is as large as the United States east of the Mississippi River, with a state the size of Texas added. The area is one million one hundred and thirty-eight thousand square miles. It is twelve times as extensive as the British Isles and five times the size of France. Argentina extends over thirty-three degrees of latitude, its northern limit being one degree within the Tropic of Capricorn. Buenos Aires, the capital, is about as far south of the equator as Atlanta is north, and is as far east of Washington as Newfoundland. It has a frontage on the Atlantic of sixteen hundred miles, almost as long as our own Atlantic shore. Its width varies greatly. The widest place is about nine hundred miles, and then it decreases again to the south until the mainland at its southernmost point is only one hundred and fifty miles across. The Argentine portion of Tierra del Fuego is a triangle about fifty-five miles on each side. The most of its limitations are natural boundaries, either of rivers or mountains. The national boundary between Chile and Argentina, which has been the cause of so much contention, is the backbone of the continent, and its longitude is still east of New York.

The topography of Argentina is very varied. Some, perhaps, think of it only as a flat and level country. This is true of the pampas, where for hundreds of miles there is scarcely a rise as high as a barn. Argentina probably contains the greatest stretch of level and fertile plains in the world, whose possibilities have hardly been touched upon. But Argentina is not all level. It contains within its borders the very highest mountain peak in the world outside of the Himalayas, mighty Aconcagua, which pierces the ether up to a height of twenty-four thousand feet. It also possesses Tupungato, another lofty peak of the Andean range. The pampas are entirely treeless except for groves which have been planted by man. But Argentina does not lack timber, for there are tracts larger than many European kingdoms which are covered with fine forests. The climate is equally diversified. One may broil in the wilderness of the Chaco, and shiver with the cold in Southern Patagonia. In fact there is almost as much difference in the climate as you would find between Sicily and Iceland. On the Andes slopes there is very little rain, but up in the territory of Misiones you reach the region of tropical downpours. Thus it is that you can find a representative type of almost any kind of climate and almost every variety of soil.

The Rio de la Plata is the second largest river system in the world. It is one of the three main outlets from the interior of South America to the sea, and carries almost twice as much water as the Mississippi. At its mouth the river is one hundred and eighty miles across from Cape San Antonio, Uruguay, to Cape Santa Maria, in Argentina. A little further inland, which some consider as the real mouth, the distance is one hundred and forty miles. Opposite Montevideo the width has narrowed down to sixty-five miles, and at Buenos Aires it is about twenty-eight miles from shore to shore. Just above Buenos Aires the river is divided into a number of forks, which form an extensive delta through which the great branches run and a number of islands have been created. The principal branches of this river in Argentina are the Paraná, Uruguay and Paraguay. The Uruguay River rises in Brazil, less than one hundred miles from the Atlantic Ocean, and has a length of one thousand miles. The Paraguay and Paraná Rivers also have their sources in Brazil, near the centre of the continent, and the former has a length of seventeen hundred miles before its waters mingle with the latter. It has two tributaries, the Pilcomayo and Bermejo, which are navigable for small craft. Each of these rivers is more than five hundred miles long, but they are exceedingly tortuous, so that navigation is rather difficult and uncertain. The Paraná River reaches way up into Brazil. It has its source only a few miles from one of the principal tributaries of the Amazon, over a stretch of swampy ground of which a part of the water flows into one river and part into the other. All of these rivers carry down immense quantities of mud. In places the deposit on the river bottom is from thirteen to twenty-five feet deep, and it has many banks and shoals. The problem of keeping channels open to Buenos Aires is a big one, and many dredges are kept constantly at work. It is generally believed that the interior of Argentina was at one time a vast inland sea, and that the flat plains have been formed by the soil which has been deposited by these rivers during the prehistoric geological ages. The waters of the Atlantic are coloured by this mud long before the mouth of the river is reached. The water in the bath-tub looks almost like thin pea soup.

ON THE UPPER PARANÁ RIVER

The range of temperature and climatic conditions is very great. In the extreme northern provinces the temperature is similar to that of Mexico and Florida. On the central pampas the summer heat is connatural with that of Southern California and Tennessee, while the winter temperature resembles that of the Ohio Valley. The thermometric range between the extremes of heat and cold, however, is much less than in the corresponding latitudes of the northern hemisphere. In general the climate of the central pampas may be said to correspond roughly with that of the great cereal producing sections of North America, although the yearly average is rather higher and the fluctuations are somewhat less violent. It is better adapted for the growth of grain and raising of stock then the newly opened provinces of Canada and is more habitable for man. In fact the name of Buenos Aires (good airs), applied to a city and province, is not a misnomer. North of Buenos Aires snow is rare and frost unusual, except in the higher altitudes. South of there it grows progressively colder as one travels towards Cape Horn.

In the matter of rainfall, also, there are great variations in different sections. The zonal distribution of rainfall runs in belts from east to west. This is due to the prevailing winds. The great agricultural district receives from twenty to forty inches annually, or about the same as the region around the Great Lakes of the United States. West of this is a narrow strip that receives only about half of this amount of rain, and then along the slopes of the Andes is a belt which does not receive to exceed ten inches. This would favourably compare with New Mexico and Arizona. In Patagonia the conditions are reversed and the arid belt is along the Atlantic coast, while the districts near the Andes receive a fair amount of rainfall. This distribution of rainfall is of utmost importance in the development of the country. As agriculture extends it occupies the watered area, and the pastoral industry is driven little by little farther into the more arid sections. Sheep and cattle are gradually moving west and southwest into the semi-arid districts. The province of Buenos Aires, which a few years ago was the pastoral centre, is now one of the most important agricultural sections. As the process continues it will become increasingly necessary to open up more southerly ports for the shipment of animal products, while the northerly ports will remain the chief exporters of grain.

There are at least a half billion acres of fertile arable land in Argentina, that can be turned to the cultivation of products for the sustenance of man. All of this land is easily accessible to the Atlantic. There are no natural barriers such as transverse ranges of mountains. The northern provinces can reach Rosario or Buenos Aires by the La Plata system of waterways, while the rest of the country can, by the simplest railway construction, be joined up with one of those ports, or with Bahia Blanca, or one of the new ports in Patagonia. At present these three ports are the only ones needed, or that will be until Patagonia has undergone greater development. Only the upper edge of the country is within the tropics. From there as far south as Buenos Aires the climate is almost that of the Gulf States, while that city has a climate very similar to Los Angeles. The heat in summer is sometimes oppressive, but not more so than in New York or Chicago. It is doubtful whether there are so many of those oppressive humid days in the southern as in the northern metropolis. It is never so cold in winter as to prevent out-of-door life. Even in Tierra del Fuego the winter climate is no more severe than that of Northern Michigan. The pampas of middle Argentina probably have less rain than our own middle west. Water is, however, not far below the surface, and wells are easy to construct for the windmills, which form so prominent a feature of the landscape on the estancias. In Misiones the landscape is Brazilian, and in parts of Patagonia it resembles Arizona, only they do not have such extreme drouths. Anything that can be successfully raised in the United States can be grown in Argentina, and generally much cheaper. The country, however, lacks our great mineral wealth. Iron is scarcer than gold, and coal is imported by the millions of tons each year. Great discoveries may be made in the future, but Argentina will never be a great competitor of the United States in mineral products.

Argentina is a land of big things. Farms are reckoned by the square league, consisting of nearly six thousand acres, instead of by the paltry acre. All grains are measured and sold by the metric ton of twenty-two hundred and five pounds, instead of by the diminutive bushel. That country is now the greatest flax-producing country in the world, and ranks third in wheat and second in corn. It has more horses than any country except Russia and the United States, more sheep than any country except Australia, and is exceeded in the number of cattle only by the United States. If all the sheep in Argentina were marched across the United States two abreast they would form a solid column reaching from Sandy Hook to the Golden Gate. Argentina contains within her borders the largest city in the southern hemisphere, and the second Latin city in the world. She probably exports more foodstuffs than any nation on the globe, if you include both meat and grains. And yet the real resources of the country have only been scratched on the surface. It is predicted by good authority that the United States will have to import meat from foreign markets before a not very distant day. There is no other country that can be looked to except Argentina with her millions of sheep and cattle and thousands of fertile leagues that invite development. A brilliant future certainly awaits this great republic on South American soil, and North Americans may well inform themselves upon the country, its people and resources.

Argentina might be divided into two parts, Buenos Aires and the Camp—the name given to the country. Buenos Aires is at once the London, New York and Paris of the republic and dominates the country as no other capital of the world does. It is the largest Spanish-speaking city in the world, being more than twice as large as Madrid. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries Asuncion, the capital of Paraguay, was a far more important place. It contains most of the factories of the country, receives the greater part of the foreign trade, does the banking of the nation through its great moneyed institutions, and is the social and business centre where the money made by those in the interior of the republic is spent. It is growing at the rate of nearly one hundred thousand persons each year. The large admixture of foreigners coming in keep this city, as well as the nation, up to date. New ideas are thus brought in from everywhere, and the latest inventions and improvements follow. The Spanish type has been considerably modified by the foreign commingling so that this capital is now as cosmopolitan as any in the world.

Most people are accustomed to think of all the South American republics as opera bouffe affairs. Unfortunately there has been too much foundation for that reputation in the past. This has probably been the greatest obstacle to advancement hitherto. Paraguay is still in that condition, and Uruguay has its almost annual struggle between the blancos (whites) and colorados (reds). These uprisings are generally trivial affairs and do not deserve the importance given them. There are, as a rule, no great principles involved, and the struggle is primarily for the control of the government between different leaders. They are usually of short duration and attended with little bloodshed. They are due to that mediæval idea so strongly intrenched in the Spanish character that changes can only be brought about by fighting. The idea of settling these questions at the ballot box has not been fully developed. The writer was in Uruguay during one of these revolutions, and Montevideo was as quiet as one could expect to find a city of that size. A great many young men had fled for fear of conscription in the army. The only way in which he was discommoded was by the necessity of going to the authorities to get a permit to leave the city, as no one could embark on a steamer without this government passport. This revolution was the most severe one that they had had for five years. There had been several conflicts in the interior between the blancos and colorados, and some blood shed. Argentina was blamed by the press for the trouble, as it was alleged that Argentina wanted to create disorder and then seize the country on the plea that only in that way could property interests be protected.

Argentina in times past went through the same performances. Revolution followed revolution and dictator followed dictator; but that time has passed. The principal reminder left is the despotic and arbitrary rule of the prevailing party. The “elections” are controlled and manipulated by the party in power. It is always easy to foretell who will be the successful candidate by looking at his support. A political campaign was in progress during the writer’s visit, so that he had an opportunity to observe the trend. The billboards and fences were covered with proclamations of the candidates and announcements of their policies, mass meetings were held in the Plaza de Mayo, and other public places, but the administration had selected its own successor and there never was the slightest doubt as to the result. Although these high-handed methods still prevail, it is daily growing less possible for serious disturbances to arise. The building of railroads and telegraphs has brought the different sections into touch with each other. The great investment of foreign capital has had a steadying influence toward more stable conditions, and has compelled the leaders to appreciate the necessity for improved political conditions because of the country’s need for additional foreign gold in developing its natural resources. They realize that such aid can only be secured by carefully safeguarding the financial, commercial and industrial interests, and they have set themselves at work to provide the necessary guarantees of good behaviour.

The Argentine Republic consists of fourteen provinces, ten territories and the Federal District. The provinces are autonomous in their interior government, while the territories are ruled by a governor who is appointed by the President. The Federal District, which includes Buenos Aires, is administered by an intendente, or mayor, appointed by the President, and assisted by a municipal council elected by the people. The Argentine Republic has established the federal idea of a union of states as its form of government. The constitution, which was adopted in 1860, is modelled closely after that of the United States. The only changes since that time have been some amplifications of the original articles. The legislative power is invested in a National Congress which consists of the Senate and Chamber of Deputies. There are thirty senators and one hundred and twenty deputies. They receive a salary of eighteen thousand dollars per year in paper money. Senators are elected by the legislatures of the provinces, which are really states, for a term of nine years, and to be eligible for election the candidate must be thirty years of age and have an annual income of two thousand dollars. Each state and the Federal District is entitled to two senators. One-third of the Senate is elected every three years. Deputies are elected for a term of four years by direct popular vote in the proportion of one to every thirty-three thousand inhabitants, and one-half are elected every two years. They must be twenty-five years of age and have been citizens of the republic for four years. The President is elected by electors who are chosen by the people for a term of six years. Neither the President, nor Vice-President are eligible to succeed themselves without one term intervening. The President is assisted by a cabinet of eight members, who are designated as follows: Interior, Foreign Affairs and Worship, Finance, Justice and Public Instruction, War, Marine, Public Works, and Agriculture. The Vice-President is also president of the Senate. Each province has its own courts, but there are national courts of appeal and first instance as well. The Supreme Court consists of five judges, who are appointed for life by the President.

The centralization, or nationalization, of the nation has gone ahead rapidly in recent years. The forcible separation of the city of Buenos Aires from the province of the same name was one of the best things ever done by the government. In removing the preponderance of Buenos Aires the constant friction between that province, on the one hand, and all the other provinces, on the other, was removed. Railroads have been subsidized and immigration encouraged by the national government, in the effort to develop the country. The post-office has been brought to great efficiency, and its service is rapid and trustworthy. The telegraph lines are nearly all controlled by the government, although private ownership is not prohibited. Of the thirty-five thousand miles of telegraph wires, enough to go around the globe once and a quarter times, perhaps one-half are owned by the national government and one-fourth by the provinces. The greater part of the income is from customs receipts, and the national government also contributes toward the support of the provinces and territories in order to equalize taxation. The government has learned lessons from former experiences in the fluctuation of money values, so that the paper dollar, or peso, has been officially fixed at forty-four cents gold. Exchange does not vary more than a fraction of a cent from that rate at the present time.

The first European navigator to discover the Rio de la Plata was Juan de Solis, a Spanish captain, in the year 1508, while in search of a passage to the Pacific Ocean. Magellan did not visit these shores until 1520. A chronicler who was with Magellan says that the “gigantic natives called canibali ate de Solis and sixty men who had gone to discover land, and trusted too much to them.” The first settlement was established at Buenos Aires in 1536 by Pedro de Mendoza, who has been termed a freebooter, and who was made governor by the Spanish Crown. This settlement was destroyed shortly afterward by the hostile Indians, and no permanent settlement was established on the mud flats of the “river of silver” until nearly forty years later.

During the succeeding centuries the Spaniards did all that they could to exploit this country and check all advancement. The only aborigines were wild and nomadic Indians. Argentina was for a long time subject to the vice-regency of Peru, and many of the settlements were made by explorers who came across the Andes. In this way Tucuman was founded in 1565, Cordoba in 1573 and Santa Fé in the same year. The Jesuits spread their settlements along the rivers far up into Paraguay and Brazil, and laid the foundation of that mighty power which lasted for two centuries. They subdued the Indians and turned them into peons or labourers, but otherwise treated them kindly. For a long while the history of Argentina is merely a record of the internecine struggles of a loosely connected province. The settlements were wide apart and there was no homogeneity. Portugal and Spain fought with each other for supremacy and the settlement of the lines of demarkation. It was not until the time of our own declaration of independence that Spain finally realized the importance of this colony and made it a vice-regency, Dom Pedro de Cevallos being named as the first viceroy. The Jesuits were expelled and much of their property confiscated. Some good grew out of this change, as a number of the viceroys were men of ability and integrity. The spirit of independence, however, grew and the feeling of revolt steadily increased.

In 1805 Great Britain, then at war with Spain, attempted to capture the city of Buenos Aires, which had already become an important trade centre, but was repulsed on several occasions. This was done by the provincials with scarcely any help from Spain, and success gave them confidence in themselves. On the 25th of May, 1810, independence from Spain was formally declared, and this patriotic movement did not cease until actual independence was achieved several years later. The first Congress was summoned in 1816, and the United Provinces of the La Plata River were formally organized. The first president was elected in 1825, and Don Bernardo Rivadavia was chosen to that position. Uruguay was at one time forcibly annexed by Brazil, and this action precipitated a war with Brazil. Argentina championed the smaller state, as a result of which the independence of Uruguay was guaranteed. Internal wars and revolutions were numerous in the early days of the republic, for ambitious leaders were everywhere fighting each other. In 1820 there were a dozen changes of government. The services of several progressive and able presidents brought order out of chaos, established the country’s credit and set the country onward toward the era of progress and prosperity which she has now enjoyed for a number of years.

From this it will be seen that the early history of the Argentine Republic is permeated with the smell of blood, and that there has been much human sacrifice. After studying the history of the many wars and conditions one can readily read the disappointment and sadness of heart contained in the political document left by General Bolivar, which concludes with the words, “I have ploughed in the sea.” Europe at one time went through similar conditions, but it is doubtful whether in their worst stage the middle ages equalled the first half-century of the history of the Latin-American republics. Out of the troublous times of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in Europe emerged nations which had been strengthened by the lessons of adversity learned in the internecine struggles of that period, in which principle was opposed to oppression in every form. The iniquitous policy of the Inquisition superimposed upon excessive taxation brought about revolt among the Spanish colonies. In their struggles the colonists have our deepest sympathies, for it was a revolt against tyranny in its worst form. After freedom, however, the colonists were still Spaniards, and a turbulent nature had been inherited.

To this inherited trait can be traced the revolutions, civil wars and political turmoils that have followed. To this fact can be attributed the tardy economic development of many of the South American republics, and even of Argentina until the last quarter of a century. This spirit has now been almost eliminated in Argentina, which has probably progressed farther in this respect than any of her sister republics. The signs that the old Spanish character is losing its baneful grip on this country are multiplying each day. It has been a long and hard lesson for the Argentinians to learn that political freedom does not mean unrestrained license, but it is being more clearly interpreted each year. The conditions are better understood when compared with Uruguay, Paraguay or Venezuela, where political conditions are still as they were in Argentina a half-century ago. Travel is safe, investments are secure, and perhaps the most severe criticism that one can make is that so great a dependence is placed upon a material prosperity.

CHAPTER II
THE METROPOLIS OF THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE

“What is the Camp?” I asked of a Buenos Airean one day.

“Everything outside of Buenos Aires,” was his reply.

“Is Rosario a part of the Camp?” I questioned, for Rosario is the second municipality in the Argentine Republic, and is a city approaching two hundred thousand inhabitants.

“Yes, but we would not say so in Rosario.”

This little conversation reveals the pride of all Porteños, as they call themselves, in their city, for the term Camp is used as country is with us. Buenos Aires contains the wealth and culture of the republic, and is the centre of the political as well as national life. One-fifth of the entire population dwell there, for the head has outgrown the body. “Paris is France,” says the Parisian, but the importance of that capital to France is outclassed by the significance of Buenos Aires to Argentina.

Buenos Aires is a wonderful city, and its inhabitants are a remarkable people. Italians and Spanish abound there in great numbers; thousands of French, British and Germans have found a haven on the low bank of the Rio de la Plata, and it would be difficult to find a race in Asia or Africa that has not its representatives in that cosmopolitan metropolis. On the street almost any tongue may be heard, and nearly every European language is represented by its own newspaper. It is not a tropical city, such as Rio de Janeiro, nor an indolent one, but a city of business and enterprise with a great deal of the Latin love of pleasure in evidence. Women have become open competitors of men in the offices and stores, and the old conservatism of Spain has been compelled to yield to a broader cosmopolitanism.

“There is nothing in any other city that cannot be found here,” is the boast of the Porteño. In a general sense the claim is true. The skyscraper, the elevated railway and the “tube” are missing, but there are few conveniences or luxuries that cannot be purchased, if one only has the price. The price is usually high, for Buenos Aires is a very expensive city in which to live. Nearly all articles pass through the custom house and have a certain percentage added to the original cost in the foreign markets.

There are almost a million and a quarter of these busy people who make their homes in Buenos Aires. In the New World it is exceeded in population by only three cities of the United States. It is as cosmopolitan as New York, and is the hub and centre of the whole republic. On the vast pampas grow the grain and meat which sustain the energies of the factory workers of Europe, who, in turn, send to Argentina the product of their looms and machine shops. It is upon the fertility of these broad leagues, which produce such great quantities of cereals, meat, wool and hides, that the people live. There is little manufacturing in the city and the absence of smoke-stacks is the most striking aspect, when viewed from a height by an American.

“GIANT CRANES ARE SWINGING”

It is only necessary to go down to the immense docks of Buenos Aires to get a vivid idea of the vast commerce of this city. It is a scene that cannot be duplicated even in New York with its far greater traffic. All you can see along those docks is the lofty bow of an ocean greyhound heaving up now and then above the dock-shed, as the tide ebbs and flows, and each one looks very much like the other. Here in Buenos Aires they stretch along the edges of the basins, funnel behind funnel, bridge behind bridge, as far as one can see, until the vision is lost in a veritable sea of masts. A splendid freighter just in from Europe and loaded with champagne, automobiles and other luxuries may lie next to a river boat just in from Paraguay and loaded with oranges and bananas. Giant cranes are swinging, heaped-up trucks are constantly on the move and men are carrying loads backward and forward. Here are vessels from all the carrying nations of the world, flying the flags of Germany, Italy, France, Great Britain, Spain and Austria, but the flag of the United States is not visible. Out of the thousands of vessels which entered this port last year, there were only four small ships that sailed under the stars and stripes of Uncle Sam. Out in the river dozens of boats may be seen anchored, for the freighters are oftentimes obliged to wait three or four weeks before they can enter one of the basins and discharge their cargo. Outside the vast warehouses, which are always packed clear to the roofs, are scores of trucks and drays busily loading or unloading, and conveying freight to and from the railroad freight depots and the commission houses. And just beyond the line of drays is the dock railroad, where the switch engines are busily engaged in shoving cars backward and forward.

These immense docks, built only a few years ago, are already too small, so rapidly has Buenos Aires grown. Although almost four hundred years old, this city is as new as Chicago. For generations it remained only a miserable collection of mud huts, with lots three miles deep that could be purchased for an old, broken-down horse, or a second-hand suit of clothes. When our Declaration of Independence was given to the world only three thousand people lived on these mud flats now built up with great structures. Then it began to grow slowly, until a half-century ago it had reached a population of seventy-five thousand. Its greatest growth, however, has been in the last twenty years. A quarter of a century ago there was only a flat mudbar along the waterfront of Buenos Aires. Ships were compelled to anchor several miles out in the river. Boxes, bales and passengers were conveyed ashore in lighters and row-boats. High-wheeled carts were then pushed out into the water so that passengers could land without getting wet. Plans for a system of docks were then prepared by an English engineer, which were completed at a cost of forty millions of dollars. Five great basins were constructed which extended along the river front for three miles. At that time, however, the tonnage of this port was less than a million. Now it has reached ten millions, and additional basins are absolutely necessary. A magnificent and commodious custom house is now being built at a cost of a million and a half of dollars to provide room for the large working force necessary to care for this immense export and import trade.

It is as a town of pleasure, however, that the native Argentinian loves to think of his capital. “Paris,” says he, “why, Paris and Buenos Aires should not be mentioned in the same breath.” In his opinion Buenos Aires has Paris beat to a “frazzle,” although that particular word has not yet entered his vocabulary. This is the feature of the city that almost any inhabitant will dwell upon whenever you meet him. In his opinion the theatres cannot be equalled. He will tell you of the Casino, where the best vaudeville acts of all Europe are played; and of La Escala, where the singers follow each other in melancholy procession, each one dressed in the same strapless bodice and stiff, bespangled skirt. One may sing in French, another in Italian and still another in Spanish, but each one wriggles her powdered shoulders and presses her hands to her heart in the same pathetic way. The men smoke and stare, seldom applauding, and the Argentine ladies—they give La Escala a wide berth.

“THEY FILE AROUND AND AROUND BETWEEN THE PALMS”

Then there is the Jockey Club, with an entrance fee and annual dues higher than any club in New York. Only native Argentinians can belong to it, although the diplomats and a few other favoured foreigners are given an honorary membership. There is an English Club which is rather an exclusive organization, and a German Club which occupies a fine new building. The Club de Residentes Estranjeros, or, as it is generally called, the Strangers’ Club, is the one that appeals most to the visitor, however, for a stranger will be given the courtesies of the club for one month upon a simple introduction by a member. There are at least fifty similar social organizations in Buenos Aires, for the Porteños are a hospitable and sociable people and love to mingle together socially. The races are held on Sunday afternoons from twelve o’clock to three. Outside the race track may be seen a long line of carriages and automobiles drawn up along the curb. The instant the races are over this line melts away and every vehicle wends its way toward beautiful Palermo Park, where, joined by hundreds of other similar vehicles, they file around and around between the palms and indulge themselves in the passion of staring at everyone else. At five o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, or on feast days, of which there are more than thirty in the course of a year, the crowds are at their greatest. The parade of vehicles is oftentimes three deep and would stretch out many miles if placed one behind the other in a straight line. There are no dark mantillas and no closed carriages to conceal the female occupants, and it is a sight for the men. It is a procession of human upholstery with expensive trappings, huge Parisian hats, expensive gowns and an abundance of cosmetics. Side by side with rich turnouts plated with silver and gold, magnificent horses and footmen as well as coachmen in rich livery, may be seen men just in from the Camp dressed in their less sophisticated clothes and riding in hired victorias, and the music-hall singers with their overdressed air and ravishing smiles, which they bestow with a generous freedom.

Calle Florida is the fashionable shopping street. In the late hours of the afternoon the street is crowded with the shoppers and idlers, and all traffic is excluded from the thoroughfare during those hours. Mamma and her daughters, Juanita and Carmencita, are out to look at the pretty things, the latter in their freshly starched skirts and bright-coloured ribbons. Others, who have no shopping to do, invent some excuse for being on Florida at that hour, and the young dandies stand on the corners, twirling moustaches that turn up at an angle of forty-five degrees and smoking the inevitable cigarette. When the witching hours of night have come the crowds again appear. Calles Florida, Cangallo, Esmeralda, Cuyo, Maipu and many others are brilliantly illuminated, for the theatres and cafés are in that section, as well as the best restaurants, and rathskellers, and these people certainly love to eat. There are many good restaurants, of which the Sportsman is probably the most popular. Here you may partake of almost any European dish—to say nothing of native ones. In addition to music a free moving picture show is provided. To obtain a seat at certain hours it is necessary to make arrangements beforehand, for diners linger long at the table. The meal usually begins with a dish of cold meats. Then comes a salad or the soup, together with the appetizers. Fish and three or four kinds of meat then follow, ending with a pastry or dulce (sweet) of some kind. It is surprising to see what a meal a thin Spaniard will put himself on the outside of, together with a choice assortment of liquors, and seem no worse for the effort.

During my visit the “Merry Widow” was being played in three different languages, French, Italian and Spanish, in as many different theatres. The Teatro Colon is the largest opera house in South America and the very best of opera is given there, a government subsidy being granted. There are few of the world’s great artists who have not appeared here at some time in their career. In no country in the world can better Italian opera be heard. It will seat thousands of people, and it is always a fashionably dressed audience. A thousand dollars for a season box is readily paid by the nabob of Buenos Aires. Low-necked gowns for the women and evening dress for the men predominate, and jewels by the peck may be seen sparkling all over the audience. Nowhere can wealth and beauty be seen in greater abundance.

There are almost as many Italians as those of Spanish birth in Buenos Aires. If all the Italians in the city were gathered together into one quarter they would make up a town as large as Genoa. Likewise the “Spaniards from Spain,” who now live in Buenos Aires, would populate a city larger than old Toledo. The British colony is probably next in numbers, with the German a close rival and France following in the rear. Americans do not cut much of a figure in numbers, for the North American Society, recently organized, had great difficulty in locating three hundred who claimed allegiance to the Stars and Stripes. And yet this small but enthusiastic body agreed to furnish a statue of George Washington, the father of liberty not only in our own land but in all the Americas, to be erected in that city. The city government has generously granted a site in one of the finest locations in the city. It will be a pleasure to future visitors from the United States to see the familiar likeness of our honoured hero gazing down at them with his benevolent manner in this Latin city.

Buenos Aires is very much unlike our American cities. In the first place there are no skyscrapers that lift their lofty roofs upward. The highest building does not exceed six or seven stories in height. Then there are miles upon miles of streets with buildings of one story predominating. It is laid out in rectangular blocks, averaging about four hundred feet on each side. The streets are narrow, and even in the residence sections they are generally built clear up to the street line. These narrow streets are a relic of the old days when this city was small and dormant. Narrow thoroughfares then meant shaded walks, but shade at that time was a more valuable asset than it is now in a hustling city. The principal business streets, such as Florida, Cuyo, Cangallo, Bartolomé Mitre, San Martin, 25th of May, etc., are only thirty-three feet wide, and you will wonder how the traffic is managed. It is done in this wise. Street cars and vehicles are only allowed to move one way. On the adjoining street they will move in the opposite direction. It is surprising how this plan helps to solve a serious problem of congestion. Cabs and automobiles dash along with seeming disregard of human life, and yet few accidents result. A uniformed policeman is stationed at each street intersection where traffic is congested, and assists in the protection of foot passengers and drivers. This police force made up of men with Indian blood in their veins impresses the visitor as most efficient. There is now a law in effect that no street shall be opened up in the future that is less than sixty feet in width.

“THE BROAD AND IMPOSING AVENIDA DE MAYO”

THE AVENIDA ALVEAR

There is one exception to the narrow streets, and that is the broad and imposing Avenida de Mayo, near the centre of the city. This street, with its wide pavements and rows of trees, lined on either side by hotels, fine stores and office buildings, reminds one of the famous avenues of Paris. The open-air cafés, which line the broad sidewalks of this avenue, only emphasize this resemblance and testify to the fact that the old-world spirit is still alive in Buenos Aires. At one end of the street is the Plaza de Mayo, at the far side of which is the government building in which are the administration offices; and at the other terminus, a mile away, is the Palace of Congress, which has just been completed after thirteen years of building, and at a cost of eight million dollars. With its great dome it gives a prospect very much like that of the Capitol at the end of Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington. The cross streets all begin and end at Calle Rivadavia, just one block from this avenue, for they have a different name on the two ends. One of the streets in the city is called Estados Unidos, which is the Spanish for United States. The Avenida Alvear, which leads out to Palermo, is another striking street. The mansions which line it are interspersed with gardens and plazas, and this broad avenue gains in beauty by this wealth of verdure and flowers.

The people of this southern metropolis may put off until “to-morrow” many things, after the manner of the Spanish people, but they do not idle to-day. Everywhere it is work, work, work, and the people earn their bread by the actual sweat of the brow. That is, all except the wealthy estancieros, or plantation owners, who became wealthy by the marvellous rise in the value of their lands. Many men bought a square league of pampa land fifteen or twenty years ago for a few thousand dollars, and it is now worth fifty dollars an acre. This enables them to live in Buenos Aires in idleness and comparative luxury. Greater opportunities, another climate and the virgin soil have instilled a new life into bodies and brains. It is a mingling of the spirit of the old world and the new which shapes the daily life of this city. The term “effete,” so often applied to Latin nations, and the “proverbial laziness” of Spaniard and Italian, so often referred to by writers, does not apply here. From the shipping sections where boats, barges and tugs throng in endless procession, from the flats on the river where hundreds of acres have been reclaimed in recent years, to the business section and the wide tree-planted avenues where the electric cars rush out into the residence section, the traveller will observe nothing but movement and effort, unceasing work and activity. In fact, were it not for the difference in architecture, a warmer shade in the complexion of the people, the sonorous consonants of the Castilian tongue, and the fact that the passer-by who jostles you never fails to lift his hat and apologize, the traveller might imagine himself in some unfamiliar part of New York or Philadelphia. There are the same workmen laying asphalt streets, the same gangs of builders and labourers tearing down buildings and laying foundations for great business structures, or demolishing rows of houses to make way for new avenues or squares. Everywhere the city is expanding. It already covers an area four times as large as Manhattan Island, three times larger than Berlin and more than twice that of Paris.

The Spanish people love the beautiful, and that same trait is observed in Argentina. There are many beautiful plazas in Buenos Aires, as well as several free public parks and gardens. In all there are seventy-two of these artistic recreation spaces where the “good airs” of the city can be enjoyed by the population. The finest park is magnificent Palmermo with its rich vegetation, which is a half-hour’s ride from the centre of the city. This park is a breathing-place and recreation-ground of which any city might be proud. Although it is below the tropics, yet some species of the palm thrive here, and the vegetation is more luxuriant and much different from that of the latitude of New York or Chicago. The principal sporting and play grounds are all near this park. Through it runs a broad boulevard which leads out to Belgrano, the fashionable suburb of the capital. In this suburb, as well as in the city proper, there are many magnificent private homes, which are veritable palaces. In the older part of the city the courtyard, or patio, so typical of Spanish architecture, may be seen. The glimpse of the foliage and blossom that it reveals is decidedly refreshing. In the later buildings, sad to say, the patio has disappeared, for the increased value of space seems to forbid this luxury. The network of bars at the windows has likewise vanished.

ONE OF THE PALATIAL HOMES OF BUENOS AIRES

The city offers a prize each year for the handsomest structure that is erected, the awarding of which is in the hands of a regularly organized commission. In addition to the reward, which goes to the architect, the owner is exempted from taxes for a certain period, and is reimbursed out of the city’s funds for whatever sums he has expended in creating a street front of artistic character. Buenos Aires owes very little of its beauty to nature. Lest some inharmonious advertising should mar the scene the municipality has taken control of all out-of-door display advertising. No poster can be placed on wall or fence unless it passes muster with the official in charge of this work. The height of a building must have a fixed relation to the width of the street, in order to preserve the light and air. Less than two decades ago the space occupied by the docks was a marshy strip of ground. Now a broad park called the Paseo Cristobal Colon (Columbus) has been laid out and planted with trees and shrubbery. Built upon a site with no natural beauty, so much more credit is due the landscape artists who have transformed this dreary spot.

The markets of Buenos Aires are interesting places to visit. The best hour to visit them is very early in the morning, for everything is astir at that time and all the supplies may be seen in their abundance. As early as four o’clock all is bustle and life. The throng is so great that it is oftentimes with difficulty that one can thread his way through the busy crowd of buyers, sellers and porters. The markets are not especially beautiful but they have a wholesome cleanliness. The most striking feature is the overflowing quantities of everything. Eggs are there by the thousands of dozens, vegetables by the van-load, meat by the ton and fruit by the car-load. The contents of a whole orchard may be seen at a glance. One could fill his house with the fine peaches and pears and scarcely see any diminution in the supply. These two fruits, together with the Mendoza grape, are the finest kinds. It used to be that one could buy a week’s supply of vegetables for a small sum, and meat for almost a song, but prices, except for meats, are now almost as high as in our own city markets. A noisy, bustling, motley crowd of people of all sizes and colours fill the aisles. Buxom cooks, pretty Italian girls and vendors with their enormous baskets jostle against each other. To watch the bantering is a source of endless amusement.

“COWS ARE BROUGHT TO THE DOOR”

“You are a thief, as every one knows,” says the market woman. “Oh, Señora, only an angel like you could say such things,” replies the merchant. And thus they go on passing similar compliments without either one losing his or her temper until a bargain is finally struck. The vendors, however, do not unduly urge, and apparently do not seem to care whether you buy or not. There seems to be no standard of value. In the late afternoon meat may be purchased very cheap, as the law requires all meat to be sold the same day on which it is killed. The butchers go out to the municipal slaughtering houses very early in the morning and kill as many animals as they think they can sell that day.

Those who do not find it convenient to come to the market are supplied by the vendors, who carry fruits and vegetables from door to door. Their supplies are carried in baskets which are suspended on poles swung across the shoulders. The air is filled with the cries of these picturesque peripatetic merchants, of the scissors-grinders and the dealer in notions, most of whom are Italians. In the morning and evening cows are brought to the door and milk drawn direct from nature’s reservoirs in any quantity desired. The tinkle of a bell is the herald of the milkman’s approach, and the doors open as the good housewife or maid appears with pitcher in hand. Donkey’s milk is also delivered in the same way, and its use is often preferred for the feeding of infants.

The capital of Argentina is more like an American city than any other city of South America. The architecture is entirely dissimilar, but the movement on the streets, the arrangement of the stores, and the general bearing of the people bears a marked resemblance. They like to be called the Yankees of South America, for that term signifies energy, resourcefulness and progressiveness. They are deserving of the term too. They are less strenuous than Americans, for they love holidays and enter heartily into the holiday spirit whenever the occasion permits. In that way they seem to get a great deal of pleasure out of life, perhaps more than many of our intensely absorbed, overworked business men.

THE RICOLETA CEMETERY

It is not a city one need hesitate to visit. All the creature comforts may be had. There are good physicians, good hospitals, good schools and the other advantages of populated centres in either the United States or Europe. There are no less than sixteen hospitals in the city, most of which are maintained either by the municipal or federal government. The British Hospital is an admirable institution, and is the one generally patronized by the Americans, for it has a staff of very able physicians. There are also numerous asylums for various unfortunates, foundlings’ homes, orphanages, etc., of a very high character. Electric street cars, which carried one hundred and twenty-five million passengers last year, run in every direction, and splendid trains convey passengers to almost every part of the republic. Carriages of all kinds and taxicabs remind one of New York and London. Hotels and restaurants abound on every hand. A visit to this southern metropolis opens one’s eyes to the fact that South America is forging ahead at a much more rapid pace than we have ever dreamed.

One of the finest cemeteries of the world is the Ricoleta Cemetery, the fashionable burying place of Buenos Aires. As one enters its appearance is that of a marble and granite city, with small palaces on either side, and narrow streets which are paved the same as the streets of a city. These small palaces are vaults within which the mortal remains of the departed are buried. They are of all sizes and conditions, from small to massive, and from the grand to the unpretentious. Some are the palaces of the rich and others the humble tenements of the poor. A few of these vaults contain hundreds of bodies. All have but one room that can be seen as you enter, and this room is rather furnished as a chapel of the dead, and is not, as a rule, very large. The entrance to the tomb is by a door almost at the level of the street. Sometimes a marble slab in this room may contain the sarcophagus of some distinguished member of the family, but in general this small room is only the entrance to the vault underneath, which contains the bodies. One will generally find this small room filled with flowers, real or artificial, and bouquets are oftentimes placed there at intervals of only a few days. The outside doors of this mausoleum are often of plate glass, furnished with locks, and many of them have lace curtains and gratings of iron curiously wrought. In the vault underneath the coffins are placed on shelves, one above another in niches which have been provided and then cemented in. Although this cemetery is not large it contains, so it is said, about two hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants.

One of the oddest customs in Buenos Aires is that relating to funerals and the burial of the dead. In this city funerals are great functions and the average burial is a very expensive affair. The undertakers advertise their business much as merchants advertise their dry goods. Each one will state how much more he will furnish for his money than his competitor, and praise the caskets which he will furnish and style in which he will conduct the funeral. These are provided in first, second and third class. A first-class funeral is a very imposing occasion. The hearses provided are the most ornate I have ever seen. They are always black, drawn by black horses, and the woodwork is made of carved ebony in very intricate design. Coachmen and footmen, both in the same sombre black livery, are provided, and many coaches follow the hearse, also provided with a coachman in mourning dress. Then again the newspapers will be filled with advertisements of families giving an invitation to their friends to be present at the funeral, also announcing the masses which are given from year to year on the anniversary of the funeral, and inviting their friends to be present at this solemn service. At the church servants will be posted at the door to receive the cards of those who go in, or those who send their regrets, the same as they would at any other social occasion. By scanning the papers the Argentinians keep track of the masses said for their friends. The Argentinians are very respectful toward funerals, and every one will reverently bare his head as a cortege passes by.

The expense of conducting the business of this great city runs into big figures. For the year 1909 the total sum was about thirty million dollars, but the resources were in excess of this amount. In addition to some property tax there are many special imposts, such as tax on advertising permits, building permits, slaughterhouses, markets, cemeteries, street cars, carriages, etc. The national lottery pays a certain proportion of its receipts into the municipal coffers, and the race courses also contribute. The liquor license is small, and as a result the number of such establishments where intoxicants are sold is very large, although saloons or bars after the American or English fashion are found only in the business districts. Lecherias, or milk shops, are very numerous, and thousands of gallons of milk are sold over the counters by the glass. Frozen milk takes the place of ice cream at these establishments, which are very neat and cleanly. The police force numbers nearly five thousand, or about one to every two hundred and forty persons. The fire department has numerous stations and is well organized. There are both a national and a municipal department of hygiene, which have control over all municipal sanitation. The efficient work of these organizations has brought down the death rate to where it will compare very favourably with the other large cities of the world.

The water supply and sewer system of the capital are likewise under the direction of the national government. Few cities of the world have a better service. The water is taken from the La Plata River far enough up to avoid any chance of pollution. It is obtained from wells which are driven beneath the bottom of the river, and the water is pumped through tunnels to a central station. Here it is filtered and then distributed to all sections of the city. The central reservoir, called the Aguas Corrientes, is in the heart of the city. With its imposing brick and terra cotta facing on every side, it looks like a magnificent palace, and so I thought it at first sight. Inside, however, it consists only of immense tanks from which the water gravitates over the city. This shell constructed for the water tanks cost the municipality almost a million dollars, and it is all done for the sole purpose of adding to the artistic beauty of the capital.

CHAPTER III
THE CAMP

The flat pampas, or plains, which constitute almost ninety per cent. of the Argentine Republic that is suitable for agriculture and pasture, are generally called the Camp. The name is derived from the Spanish word campo, which means country. The Camp is the mainspring of Argentine prosperity. The marble palace of the millionaire, as well as the mud hovel of the immigrant, has to thank this rich soil of the campo for its foundation. It is upon this land that the republic has grown and prospered. Its eccentricities and its products are watched with all the anxiety usually lavished upon a baby by anxious parents; and it is a pretty big infant, for the Camp comprises millions upon millions of fertile acres.

The Camp is a vast plain. It spreads its smooth, unbroken surface for hundreds of miles, with no natural hillock higher than those which the termite ants have erected, and no depression more marked than those which the huge cart-wheels have cut in the loose surface soil. It can best be characterized as an ocean of land, spreading out like an unruffled sea from horizon to horizon. Here and there, in the distance, objects may seem to arise out of this vast expanse like little islands at sea, and the illusion at times seems almost perfect. A nearer approach, however, shows them to be the buildings of an estancia, or a grove of trees. Even the groves did not exist before the hand of man altered the landscape, for the plains of Argentina were unblessed by any forest growth whatsoever—with the single exception of the rare ombu tree, specimens of which might be met with at intervals of several miles. Spots, which at a distance appear as dark lumps, finally shape themselves into humble structures of black mud, which are the homes of colonists. Their sombre and unattractive exterior may be relieved by the flaming red or vivid blue dress of an Italian girl, which makes a welcome bit of colour under the circumstances. The dust clouds in the distance will be found to be floating behind horses’ hoofs, or the wheels of a cumbersome wagon drawn by several yokes of oxen. These clouds move onward across the pampa much as the black smoke trails behind a slow-moving steamer.

These vast stretches of level land may produce a certain sense of irritation upon one newly arrived in Argentina. He may ride for league upon league on his horse, or travel for hour after hour by train, awaiting that change of scenery, which his experience leads him to believe will inevitably occur. He might start in the centre of the republic and travel for scores of leagues east, west, north or south, and find the same unending monotony. But there is, nevertheless, a certain fascination about this very vastness of the Camp which grows upon one; in these leagues upon leagues of rich soil, which here spread themselves in readiness to receive the seed from the hand of the farmer, and to yield forth an abounding harvest in return for the labour bestowed. Upon these plains one may watch the herds of cattle and the flocks of the sheep which are scattered clear to the limit of one’s vision, a distance so great that the largest animals stand out as mere specks against the sky. One may travel through miles of the golden grain ready for the sickles of the reaper, and then will come upon an equal stretch of flax in flower, which gives the fields a bluish tint. Interspersed with the wheat and flax may be seen the green corn and the purple of the alfalfa blossom. These broad patches follow one another in almost endless succession. Although one’s horizon is at all times limited, he knows that, in whatever direction he looks, that which lies beyond is an exact repetition of what is stretched out before his eyes.

“AGRICULTURE HAS SPREAD FAR AND WIDE”

Agriculture has spread far and wide in Argentina in the last two decades. Its forces are moving ever westward and southward, driving the “squatter” ever farther and farther afield. It has already crossed the boundaries of what was once known as Patagonia, no man’s land. Wire fences now enclose the lands which once were the scenes of settlers’ battles and boundary disputes. Grains and alfalfa have replaced the coarse natural grass, which was indigenous to these plains. Groves of willow, eucalyptus and poplar have been planted in the older sections of the Camp and make a diversion in the landscape. The picturesque windmill, made in the United States, is a familiar landmark on the horizon almost everywhere, for it is necessary to pump all the water during the greater part of the year.

The Camp has never been divided into homesteads. The most of it is owned by the estancieros, whose holdings are estimated by the square league, almost six thousand acres. A man with only one square league is a small farmer, and there are many estates of five and ten square leagues. Many of these were purchased for a mere pittance twenty years ago, and the rise in value has made the owner a wealthy man, so that he can live in Buenos Aires a part of the year in luxury, or take a trip to Europe each year, as many of them do.

Formerly Argentina was almost entirely a pastoral country. Millions of cattle and sheep wandered over these plains and fed on the rich herbage. The amount of land devoted to stock grazing has been reduced, but the quick-growing alfalfa furnishes more pasture to the acre. At the present time there are thirty million cattle, sixty-seven million sheep, seven million, five hundred thousand horses and mules in the republic, which is a very respectable showing, and places Argentina as one of the most important stock-raising countries in the world. They are very fine stock too. It was the care of the stock that gave rise to the “gaucho,” the cowboy of South America, and it was this character that gave romance and local colour to the Camp.

THRESHING GRAIN ON AN ESTANCIA

As a grain-raising country Argentina has advanced by leaps and bounds. At the present time it is the greatest flax-raising country in the world, and our own linseed oil mills have been obliged to import seed from there during the past two years. It is second only to the United States and Russia in the production of wheat, and in some years has exported more than our own land. At the stations one will sometimes see mountains of wheat bags awaiting shipment to the ports, where hundreds of vessels are ready to carry this grain to the hungering millions of Europe. The threshing outfits move ponderously from one estancia to another, doing the entire work of harvesting on a percentage basis, usually one sack out of every three. Some of them are pulled by oxen or mules, and others are run by traction power. These processions move across the plains in imposing fashion. The huge stacks commence to rise in twos and threes like giant mushrooms, until the landscape is dotted with them. Then strings of wagons, laden to the brim, carry the wheat to the warehouses, which open wide their doors to receive this valuable product of the soil. The stacks must be made very secure, for the winds sweep over these plains with almost incredible velocity.

“NOT A HANDSOME STRUCTURE, BUT ... RATHER STRIKING”

Italians have flocked to Argentina by the hundreds of thousands. They have become the most important asset of the agriculturist. The colonist is usually allotted a certain number of acres, which he cultivates on a fixed share. Perhaps the landlord reserves as his portion one bag out of every ten of grain. The colonist is given the bare land, and must provide his own dwelling. But that is a simple matter. Rough boards are made into a mould, similar to that prepared for the pouring of cement, into which mud mixed with straw is placed. When this has dried the boards are removed, and the wall of the house is finished. Spaces for doors and windows are then cut out, a roof placed over it, and the house is ready for occupancy. Or this mud may be cut into bricks, which are allowed to dry in the sun and then laid up into walls. A roof of thatch made of coarse grasses is generally used. From an artistic standpoint the result is not a handsome structure, but it is rather striking. The black mud walls are sombre and commonplace, and even the best of them is scarcely more than a hovel. There is reason, however, for this economy in the construction of a house, as the colonist may be obliged to move to another section of the plantation in two or three years, or even to another plantation, when it will be necessary to build another home. The frugal Italian during these years is no doubt sending money back to Italy, or depositing it in a bank in a neighbouring town. Many of them, after a few years, tiring of the mud walls and ceaseless work, go back to their beloved Italy, where the few thousands saved make them veritable capitalists among their friends and neighbours.

The estanciero’s life is a rather lonely one, for his neighbours are few and far between. If he is an Englishman or Scotchman, as many of them are, you will find the British atmosphere all about. There will be tennis courts, cricket grounds, and, perhaps, a golf course where the family and their friends will find recreation. Pheasant hatcheries are sometimes maintained, and these birds and the long-eared rabbits, which are very plentiful, furnish the shooting so popular with the British sportsman. The Camp store, however, is the centre of life on the estancia. It is the post office and the general place of rendezvous. There are heaps of padlocks and nails, stacks of lamps and coils of wire. Beside quaintly carved native saddles will be fierce-looking knives a foot or more in length, which peacefully repose in bright new leather sheaths. Boots that might have graced a cavalier of old jostle against bottles of patent medicine guaranteed to cure every ill to which human flesh is heir. Business is never done in haste. The gaucho measures time by the progress of the sun, and an odd half hour or so never bothers him. There is always a little time for gossip before and after the purchase has been made, and then there must be a drink for friendship’s sake.

Drouths come sometimes, and the locusts, to break in upon the prosperity of both colonist and estanciero. But there is seldom an absolute failure. The locusts are present almost every year, and it is a constantly recurring fight against the scourge of these pests.

The real development of the live stock industry in Argentina began with the discovery that meat could be frozen and shipped any distance. Since that time the growth has been almost phenomenal. It used to be that long-horned, rakish, bony criollos (native stock) wandered over the pampas feeding on the succulent grasses, and dying by the thousands during a season of drouth. Now the sleek short-horned stock have taken their places, and they fatten upon the rich alfalfa pastures which have been sown by the planter. This plant roots so deep that it will remain green in drouths that would cause the native grass to become dry and dead. Fine sheep have superseded the scrubby animals that once stalked the plains; and even the horse has acquired finer legs and shoulders, and developed a more graceful arch to his neck. Indeed, it may be said that the average stock in Argentina will compare favourably with those of any other nation on the globe. The change has been brought about by the importation of the very best breeding stock from Europe, which have formed the nuclei for the present herds.

The Durham, Hereford and polled Angus are the chief grades of cattle that one will find. In one section of the country one breed will predominate, and a few leagues away another will prevail almost exclusively. Cattle are always sold at so much a head, and never by weight. “Do you never weigh them?” I asked of an estanciero. “Oh, yes, we weigh a few so that we have an idea of the general average.” In the transaction, however, between him and the buyer, weight is never mentioned. The buyer will look over the bunch for sale and offer a stated figure, which may or may not be accepted. They are then delivered to him at a given point, and shipped to the stockyards in Buenos Aires, or to one of the many slaughterhouses in the republic. The number of stock to be kept is a serious problem for the proprietor. More than one estanciero has been ruined by overstocking his estancia, and then, either locusts or the drouth coming, he was left without feed for his animals.

The cattle dip is a very necessary adjunct to every stock farm. The idea was adopted from Australia, where the cattle raisers had similar experience with the tick fever. It consists of a wide yard which gradually narrows into a lane wide enough for only one animal. When the animal is driven forward it faces a lengthy tank which it is necessary to ford. This tank is filled with a medicated solution and, as the animal swims through it, men with poles push them entirely under. The animal does not enjoy swimming through this nauseous, badly-tasting mixture, but he has no option, so, shutting his mouth tightly, he flounders through in the best way possible. It is rather a sorry looking creature, however, that emerges on the other side. Another form of dipping cattle is a cage into which an animal is driven, and this is submerged in a tank filled with this medicated solution. Either method accomplishes the desired result, which is to give the cattle a thorough saturation that will kill the tick.

Second in importance comes sheep. Although they abound all over the republic they are found in greatest numbers in the southern provinces. The development of these animals has been studied a great deal lately and scientific methods have been introduced. The finest of rams have been imported in order to improve the breed and the former coarse wool is now being replaced by a much finer quality. The Argentine merinos will now rank with those from any part of the world. One will find Leicesters, Oxfords, Black-faced Downs and all the other fine breeds. A number of New Zealand ranchers have come to Argentina in recent years, and they have been especially successful in sheep raising. The breeds have been bettered, and foot-rot as well as other diseases combated with so that the results have been very beneficial to the industry.

Sheep farming in Argentina is an old industry. The number of sheep has grown until there are now at least ten for each man, woman and child in the republic. How many sheep the pampas can support is hardly known, but it would be several times the present number. Where there is plenty of rain an acre will support three or four head, and at other places it would be safer to keep three or four acres for each sheep. In the Buenos Aires province the best ranchers place about six hundred sheep to each square mile. The sheep farming is all conducted on a big scale, and there are few small flocks. The most of the flocks range from ten thousand to seventy-five thousand, with some possibly several times the latter number. The sheep are watched on the open pampas by shepherds on horseback, each having the care of a fixed number. It is the shepherd’s duty to see that the flocks do not mingle, and to keep them free from disease. For this work they receive a stated sum monthly, which would not be considered large in the United States.

Formerly the sheep were raised for the wool, pelts and tallow only. Even then they were profitable. The carcasses were even used for fuel. Now, with the development of the frozen meat industry, this meat feeds the mutton-eaters of England. Hundreds and thousands of tons of frozen mutton are shipped down the La Plata every month. It is frozen so stiff that it will keep for months and be as palatable as freshly slaughtered meat. The slaughtering establishments are mostly located along the Paraná River, between Buenos Aires and Rosario. Acres upon acres are covered with sheep pens, slaughtering houses and freezing establishments. The frozen carcass is sewed up in fine white muslin cloths, and then laid away to await the next steamer, whose hold will be filled with these ghostly bundles. The wool is sent to the great wool market in Buenos Aires. Each man’s wool is placed in a pile by itself, all unwashed, and so brings a low price because of the weight of the grease in it, for wool will lose almost half its weight in washing. The Argentine farmer prefers to sell it at the lower rate and allow the European or American buyers to clean it.

The lambing and shearing seasons are the two busiest and most anxious seasons for the sheep raiser. A good lambing season will almost double the flock, so prolific do they become. Sheep shearing used to be done almost entirely by hand, but nearly all the big ranches now have sheep-shearing machines driven by steam or gasoline power. Still, whether done by hand in the old way or by machines in the modern way, sheep shearing is arduous work. The shearers often go about in bands from ranch to ranch. The quickness and skill of some of the shearers borders almost on the marvellous. One hundred sheep daily is a fair average for good shearers, but some exceptionally expert operators can double that score. A great deal of care has to be exercised to clip the wool as close as possible, and still leave the animal uninjured. A shearer who could not practise his business without badly cutting the sheep would soon be discharged as incompetent. The poor animals have to put up with a few scratches and cuts, but it is seldom that one is severely injured. The amount of wool and mutton sent out from these sheep ranches is almost incredible. An especially fine quality of wool is produced on the great ranches of Patagonia, one of which is larger than the state of Rhode Island.

A HERD OF HALF-WILD HORSES

Horses are also raised in great numbers in Argentina. One who sees the fine draught horses in Buenos Aires need not be told that Argentine horses are of good breed and quality. The average Argentinian thinks that he knows more about a horse than anything else. Pedigreed stallions have been imported by the hundreds, and the very best blood has been brought in. One will find as good horses in Argentina as anywhere. They are generally well taken care of, too, for lean and skinny horses are very rare. During the Boer-English war fortunes were made out of horses, for the British government bought thousands of head and paid fancy prices. They were beaten, too, in many a bargain by the shrewd estancieros. Pig breeding has not been developed much as yet, although considerable stride has been made in some sections, but the export of pork does not amount to any considerable sum. Great hopes are, however, entertained by the Argentinians for this industry also.

All agriculture is on a gigantic scale. The rapid development has been a surprise to even the most hopeful estanciero. Railways have, in many instances, been almost unable to cope with some of the crops, and trains have been run night and day to carry the grain to the exporting centres. The wheat accumulates at the shipping points until vast stacks are piled up at the various stations in the wheat lands. One company’s cars cannot run over another company’s tracks, and this further adds to the congestion. The wheat is carried to the stations on huge carts with wheels eight feet high and drawn by from ten to a dozen oxen. A load of several tons may be balanced between these two lofty wheels. As the carts move forward they are accompanied by an awful screeching noise which is ear-splitting. The carter does not care to use grease, as he says that the noise encourages the oxen. The cry goes up each year for more labourers to care for the crops, and the need still exists. Because of the lack of elevators and granaries the grain must be quickly gathered and threshed. Women and girls, men and boys all work from early morning until late at night for the few harvest weeks. The grains are generally more profitable than stock, and in some districts have crowded the latter out. Corn is one of the most profitable crops at the present time.

“THE HARVESTING MACHINES ARE USUALLY PROPELLED FROM THE REAR”

During the harvest time the Camp is a busy place. Clouds of dust all over the horizon denote activity in the grain fields. Managers and overseers are kept busy riding from one group to another. Thousands of Italians come over for the harvests and then return to their native land. The harvesting machines are usually propelled from the rear, either by steam power or animals. Attached to the side of the “strippers,” which simply cut off the heads of the grain, is a large harvest cart into which the grain drops. Four roads will be cut from a central point at right angles to each other, which run to the outer edge of the wheat field. In the central point the oblong stacks are formed. By this system the fields of golden grain rapidly disappear before the onslaughts of the cutting machines.

Thirty years ago Argentina was a wheat-importing nation. Some of the knowing ones said wheat could not be successfully grown on the pampas. Since then the grain-producing area has been increased each year and the beginning of the end is not yet in sight. At first it was thought that only the land between the Paraná and Uruguay Rivers was available, but now it has spread south into Patagonia and west to the Andes. The available wheat land has been estimated at more than 200,000,000 acres, of which only a small per cent. is at present under cultivation. This wheat land is mostly a rich black loam, from a few inches to three feet or more deep, surmounting a subsoil of clay.

There are few rivers or lakes on the Camp and there is little surface water. The old-fashioned wells sunk very deep in the ground, in which the buckets are raised by horse power, are still quite common. Windmills of American make add a picturesqueness to the landscape. Ponds are banked up into which the water is pumped, and from them the troughs are filled. These wells seldom go dry even in the severe drouths in that land.

The midday siesta is almost universal in the Camp, for the sun beats down unmercifully hot for a few hours. The languor of these hours is all-pervading. Stock huddle together and put their heads in the shadow of the bodies of the others. The mosquito is very much at home on the Camp and sometimes makes the nights unappreciated.

A GAUCHO AND HIS WIFE ON AN OUTING

One fearful disease is the anthrax, which is taken from cattle. The first symptom is a red mark on the skin, which is irritating. If unattended to this will develop into a blue boil surrounded by little blisters. After a while the sensitiveness disappears and no pain is felt. The blue is more pronounced and a full-fledged case of anthrax is developed. Something must be done promptly. The common treatment, when no surgeon is near, is to heat a wire red hot and burn out the infected spot clean from the surrounding flesh. This is a decidedly painful operation when performed without anæsthetics, and requires a remarkable degree of stoicism. The affected spot is absolutely without feeling. If this or another effective operation is not performed by the third day the chance of recovery is very slight, it is said. The gauchos are the principal sufferers.

Like his counterpart, the cowboy of the western plains, the gaucho is a unique character, and his individuality is probably the result of his environment and the life he has led. The freedom of the plains and lack of refining society have made him a man with a rough exterior which, however, oftentimes clothes a tender human heart. The gaucho of Argentina is generally of mixed blood. The blood may have become mixed centuries back, when the first Spaniards came to this country, but it still shows in his swarthy features. For centuries these people have lived an easy-going, care-free existence on the great plains of that republic. If there is one thing the gaucho loves, it is his freedom, and it is difficult to accustom him to the restraint that becomes necessary as development and private ownership proceed. In the centuries past the gauchos have always been engaged in the wars and revolutions which were common. The side they fought on did not matter much, for it was victory only that was sought. When there were no public disturbances to furnish excitement, they got up feuds on their own account, and fought each other. The Camp is full of tales of the gauchos and their deeds or misdeeds, many of which savour of real knight-errantry. It is these tales that has given the Argentinian plains an individuality. The old-time lawless gaucho has generally disappeared in the march of civilization, but the modified character remains and works for the ranch owner. Many of them have intermarried with the Italian and Spanish colonists who have migrated there. The railroad has perhaps been the greatest enemy of the gaucho, just as it was of the cowboy on our own western plains, because settlers have everywhere followed the iron horse.

The costume of the gaucho has not changed. It still consists of a broad sombrero, a shirt and the bombachos—wide Turkish trousers that range in colour from black to snow-white, and which fall to just above the ankle, where they are enclosed in a pair of tight-fitting boots. The poncho, a blanket which is placed over the shoulders in cool weather, varies from the most sombre hues to the boldest colours—brown and black to brilliant scarlet or purple. The effect of such a brilliantly-clothed apparition coming upon you unawares in a remote district can better be imagined than described. A great broad knife is almost invariably stuck in the belt, many of them a foot in length and of fantastic pattern. It is generally encased in a leathern, but sometimes in a metal, scabbard. This knife is intended not only for defence, but it is his principal aid in eating lunches out on the Camp. His favourite food is asado con cuero, beef roasted over the fire without removing the hide, and he is an expert in preparing this luxury. Dressed in all his finery, and mounted upon a saddle inlaid and ornamented with silver as many are, with fancy stirrups and huge clanking spurs, the South American gaucho is a sight worthy to behold.

The gaucho is a born horseman. From earliest childhood he has been accustomed to a horse’s back. Before his legs are long enough to reach the stirrups of a saddle the gaucho rides bareback, and an occasional tumble does not seem to be minded, for they are determined to ride. Caution or fear concerning horses is not known among them—such sentiments are altogether incomprehensible to their understanding. I have seen contests between the gauchos and American cowboys in Buenos Aires, and, although the latter are quicker in saddling and mounting a pony, they cannot stick on a bucking broncho any better than the former.

GAUCHOS BRANDING CATTLE

The gaucho is a rather taciturn individual, and is not given to many words. At the same time he is easily offended if any sense of superiority is shown. He may not show resentment on the surface, but a volcano may rage underneath a placid and immobile countenance. If there is, in his opinion, sufficient provocation, he will probably bide his time for revenge and await it patiently. It is not always done in the open, either, since he does not want a chance for failure. If he likes his employer his devotion is admirable, and he will serve with a commendable faithfulness. When roused by liquor the gaucho is often very troublesome, and then it is that he starts out to avenge real or fancied slights, and he sometimes commits serious crimes. Money does not appeal to the gaucho in a strong sense, and crimes as a rule are not committed for that purpose, but they are to avenge slights or real wrongs for which he thinks personal reprisal is the only adequate remedy. To requite a wrong with him is a point of honour. The gauchos are natural gamblers and, besides ordinary games of the Camp, there is scarcely anything that is not made the subject of wagering, and the average gaucho’s money soon disappears. It is doubtful whether education will make the gaucho a more efficient ranch hand, though it will make him a better and more intelligent citizen of a republic.

The work of the gaucho is generally confined to the care of stock, of which such vast herds swarm the pampas in almost every direction. The mustering of cattle in Argentina is called a “rodeo.” Viewed from a distance, one will see a line strongly marked wind its way over the level plain, with a dust cloud hanging over it, which is visible long before the animals come in view. As the armies of red, white and dun animals approach nearer one will see the picturesque gauchos riding here and there like officers of an army bearing commands.

When the place of rendezvous has been reached the cattle are kept tramping around a central point, as they are not near so likely to get frightened or stampeded if kept on the move. When the inspection or count is ended, the different herds are gradually separated by the gauchos and driven back to the feeding grounds. If a count is intended a line is formed through which the cattle are driven, and the cattle are numbered as they pass through the line. This is sometimes a difficult operation, and especially is it so if they aim to divide the herd into two or more bodies. One animal is driven to the right, another to the left and so on. This sometimes leads to a great deal of excitement and confusion among the cattle, and stampedes are easy to happen under such circumstances. Stockyards have been built on many ranches, where a narrow passage is constructed through which only one animal is able to pass at a time. This greatly simplifies the counting or dividing process. Furthermore, there is less danger of the animals injuring each other in their excitement. The gauchos are clever with the lasso, but cannot equal the American cowboy with that rope. Altogether the gaucho is a very useful and a very necessary man on the cattle estancias of Argentina, and his services are generally appreciated.

CHAPTER IV
THE RIVER OF SILVER

The Rio de la Plata, the “river of silver,” is one of the great river systems of the world. That name is properly applied only to the month of the system, which reaches just a little above the city of Buenos Aires, a distance of a couple of hundred miles from the Atlantic. From there it receives the name of the Paraná, which has its source in the wilds of Brazil. Where it pours its waters into the ocean this wonderful river is one hundred and eighty miles in width, and at Montevideo it has narrowed down to sixty-five miles. Opposite Buenos Aires it is still twenty-eight miles from shore to shore. The La Plata, as it is generally called, discharges the water from a basin much larger than the Mississippi, and the volume of water brought down by it is said to be exceeded only by the Amazon. It drains the greater part of the fertile pampas, reaches up into the coffee lands of Brazil, and carries down to the Atlantic the melted snows of the loftiest peaks of the Andes. The basin is in the shape of an immense horseshoe, and includes, besides the two above counties, all of Paraguay and parts of Bolivia and Uruguay.

The Uruguay River, which flows into the La Plata almost opposite Buenos Aires, is one thousand miles long and is navigable for several hundred miles, the Paraná for almost two thousand miles, and the Paraguay, from its junction with the latter stream, floats boats of shallow draft for fifteen hundred miles farther. Altogether these various streams furnish thousands of miles of navigable waters on which regular communication is furnished by large and commodious steamers. Nicolas Mihanovitch is the undisputed king of this river traffic, and dozens of vessels plying on these rivers bear the white letter M. with a black background on the funnel. They furnish a nightly service between Montevideo and Buenos Aires, and weekly or semi-weekly service up the Paraná and Uruguay Rivers.

Vessels drawing sixteen feet of water can proceed as far as Rosario, but ocean-going steamers seldom ascend any farther, as the water becomes shallower beyond that city. Boats of twelve feet draught can proceed as far as Asuncion, the capital of Paraguay, eight hundred miles farther inland. The waters carry much mud, and the channel sometimes changes its course by the formation of mud banks. Hundreds of islands have formed, some of which probably started from a submerged tree, about which the sediment was deposited. In truth the Paraná plays with islands and sand banks as a lesser stream does with pebbles. A recent scientific writer has given some interesting facts concerning its eccentricities. Says he: “A schooner which sank nine years ago off La Paz swiftly developed at its tail an island a mile long, now crowned by willows. My photograph of the old port of Paraná town in 1902 shows an island eight hundred and eighty yards long by four hundred and ninety feet wide fronting it; in December, 1907, only one hundred and sixty feet of the island remained. Thirty years ago a market gardener made a shallow ditch cut-off opposite Ibicuy River (Lower Paraná), to take his produce down the river. The Paraná elected to take his work in hand, and now ocean steamers pass through this channel on their way down from Rosario.”

In the rainy season the Paraná spreads out for dozens of miles over the level land and forms an inland sea so wide that the banks are almost invisible. This flood season lasts for three months in the year, generally from March to June. At this season the Paraguay pours a mass of water twenty miles wide and twenty feet deep into the Paraná. Added to this is the water of the Alta Paraná, and the Lower Paraná then spreads itself out over the low lands of the western bank.

“Shallow, disreputable, vast,

It sprawls across the western plains,”

to use the words of Kipling. Because of the slight fall it takes three weeks for the flood waters to flow from Asuncion, a thousand miles upstream but only two hundred and three feet above sea level, to Buenos Aires. It is estimated that this river brings down a cubic mile of soil in twenty-two years. This soil is deposited on the western shore of the La Plata, and, were it not for the work of man, would soon convert Buenos Aires into a landlocked harbour. As it is, the dredging charges entailed by this yearly increasing mass of deposit are very large.

In places the banks of the Paraná are lined with reeds and willows, but farther up the trees become larger, and there is a forest growth. In one place may be seen gigantic reeds twenty feet high, then a solitary palm tree with a crest of fan-like leaves, and again a dense forest of various growths may crown the bank. Gnarled trees with clusters of beautiful crimson flowers occasionally add a contrast of colouring. Masses of weeds and grass are continually floating by. One cannot help but think of the voyage of Sebastian Cabot up this unexplored stream, in 1526. In a small vessel of only a few hundred tons he ploughed through these waters, avoided destruction on the islands, and ascended to a point above the site of Asuncion. He was months in accomplishing that voyage, which is now made twice a week in five days. It is not a hard trip, except that the scenery becomes rather monotonous. Otherwise the accommodation is quite good, the fare is cheap, and, as a rule, the cabins are comfortable and are kept very clean.

By steamer it is nearly three hundred miles from Buenos Aires to Rosario, the second city in the republic, and takes just about a whole day. The great delta of the Paraná, just above the metropolis, is very interesting, for it is studded with numerous islands. There are several ports on the left bank where large frigorificos, meat-freezing plants, are located, where vessels may be seen at the docks at all times waiting for their loads of beef and mutton. The largest of these is at Campaña, only fifty-one miles from Buenos Aires, where the River Plate Meat Co. has its freezing works. At Zarate is the freezing plant of the Las Palmas Produce Co., and at San Nicolas is another large frigorifico. At last Rosario, which used to be an unimportant place, is reached, but that designation would not answer for the hustling city of to-day.

Soon after leaving Rosario the river passes through the rich wheat belt, with the province of Entre Rios on one side of the bank and Santa Fé on the other. For a distance the banks of the Paraná are quite high on one side, but they gradually become lower. At length the town of Paraná, a city of twenty-five thousand inhabitants, and the capital of the province of Entre Rios, is reached. It is the distributing point for quite a large section of country and a shipping port for the products as well.

Opposite Paraná is the city of Santa Fé, capital of the province of the same name, which is of about the same importance as its rival on the other side of the river. The river leads up past La Paz and Esquma, at which latter place the province of Corrientes is entered. The city of Corrientes contains a population of about twenty thousand, and is a distributing and shipping point for that province. It is not a pretty city at all and has nothing to distinguish it. Here a change must be made to boats of lighter draught, for there are rapids between this city and Posadas that will not permit a draught of more than three feet in the dry season. It is only about twenty miles to the junction of the Paraguay River, and is two hundred and twenty-five miles from Corrientes to Posadas, the capital of the territory of Misiones. It is the collecting depot for the up-river trade above this point, and is a thriving little city of about six thousand inhabitants.

The Paraná becomes grander and more picturesque the farther up one ascends it. Its quiet picturesqueness grows upon the traveller. It is hemmed in between the hills of Paraguay, on one side, and those of Misiones on the other. Its width, hitherto anywhere from two to five miles, suddenly shrinks to two-thirds of a mile, and its depth increases. The well-wooded ranges of hills slope to a current running five knots an hour. A graceful line of waving bamboo marks the mean height of the river and is only broken by the many streams which come tumbling down. You are travelling toward the equator, and the vegetation changes. The trees become still larger, and the grass is more luxuriant. Many varieties of palms make their appearance. A thousand miles from Rosario is the junction with the Iguassú River, and a few miles from its mouth are the famous falls of the same name. They are on the boundary line between Brazil and Argentina, and only a few miles away from the border of Paraguay. At some imaginary point on the broad Paraná, in the midst of these vast solitudes, these three republics meet.

The Falls of the Iguassú, which here lie half concealed by the crowding forests, are a worthy rival of Niagara. The scenery surrounding is, in its lone loveliness, in harmony with the solemn grandeur of the cataract. The roar of the waterfall is all the more impressive because of the solitude that reigns in these primeval forests. These falls cover a wide area, as they are nearly two miles in length. They are so great that they must be viewed from several points before their full magnitude dawns upon the traveller. They plunge out of the hidden recesses of the forest in many places, for numerous islands have been formed which are now densely wooded. Nature here seems to have revelled in perfect abandon in producing this wonderful spectacle. It is like another Niagara set out in the midst of a wilderness, where the hand of man has done nothing to add to or detract from what nature has here prepared for the delectation of mankind.

The falls may be divided into two sections, the Argentine and Brazilian cascades. The Iguassú River is very wide just above the falls where it takes a very sharp turn prior to making the first plunge. It makes a series of three leaps, the last being a drop exceeding two hundred feet. The unequal erosion of the rock has given the falls a horseshoe shape very similar to Niagara. Below the falls the water passes through a narrow gorge where the depth is so great that a hundred fathom line has failed to sound it. The natives call it bottomless. In 1905, during an unusually severe rainy season, the water rose so high here, because of the narrowness of the gorge, that for five days it was backed up to the total height of the lowest falls, two hundred and ten feet.

Ascending the Alta Paraná, another one hundred and twenty-five miles, one reaches the smoking cataracts of La Guayra. So scored are the river’s banks on either side by cascade and torrents that it might be called “waterfall land.” The Falls of La Guayra are another series of mighty cascades on the border between Paraguay and Brazil. Above the falls is a great lake all of the waters of which must pass over these precipices and through a narrow gorge. At one point it is only two hundred feet from cliff to cliff. The current piles up in the centre with a corkscrew motion which forms a maelstrom, with which the famous Whirlpool Rapids are a quiet pool. The total plunge of these falls is three hundred and ten feet. Above the La Guayra the Alta Paraná widens out and the hills retreat. At a distance of four hundred miles, or a total distance of one thousand six hundred and forty miles from Buenos Aires, are the Uberaponga Falls, another frantic water power awaiting the harnessing by man. One can follow this stream on up to its source in a flat, swampy section, which is also the source of one of the principal affluents of the Amazon. It drains a very large section of Brazil, for, because of the range of mountains which follows the coast line in Brazil, water falling within a few miles of the Atlantic turns its back on the blue waters of the ocean and journeys from fifteen hundred to two thousand miles before entering salt water by means of the La Plata.

The route up the Uruguay River is much more picturesque than that up the Paraná. This majestic stream is about six miles wide at its junction with the latter river. It is somewhat less obstructed by islands here, so that both banks can usually be seen. And yet this great stream has moods, as well as other rivers. The current in its main channel will oftentimes change. It will encroach here and recede there, submerge an island in one place and form a new one in another. After a long drouth navigation must be conducted with caution, but the normal depth is generally sufficient for all purposes. During times of flood all kinds of strange small animals and vegetation are brought down by the Uruguay. The water is decidedly clay coloured. On one side is the flat Argentine plain, and on the other the undulating shores of Uruguay, for this river is the international boundary line between these two republics. Small topsail schooners may be seen coming down the river loaded with timber or fruit, and bound either for Montevideo or Buenos Aires. Farther up the stream contracts and one gets a more intimate acquaintance with the country. The banks shrink back and reveal a glimpse of flowering shrubs, willow trees, and an occasional palm. A stretch of bright, sandy beach may occasionally unfold itself. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish shore from island. Buoys mark the channel, which is very much zigzag. The sunsets on these broad waters and flat pampas are really wonderful. They paint the clouds in every colour and shade of rosy pink and brilliant red, and the waters become of a bluish hue. The cliffs on the Uruguay side are tinted in many colours, while the Argentine bank is nothing but a straight, black line.

The boats stop on either side. One hundred and thirty miles from Buenos Aires, and on the Uruguay side, is the town of Fray Bentos, where the great Liebig’s Extract Factory is located. On the opposite side and a little further up is Concepcion del Uruguay, which is an interesting little town. The busiest and most important town of Argentina on the Uruguay River is Concordia, two hundred and seventy miles from the metropolis. It is a town of perhaps fifteen thousand inhabitants, and has railway communication as well. Because of a falls and rapids at this point the large river steamers cannot proceed beyond Concordia, although light draught boats can ascend considerably farther.

Between the Paraná and Uruguay Rivers lie the two goodly-sized provinces of Entre Rios and Corrientes, and the territory of Misiones. The two provinces are each about the size of Indiana, and are rich in agricultural lands. Wheat was first successfully cultivated in Entre Rios, and these provinces still produce large quantities of grain as well as much stock. Each one has a population of about a third of a million and it is increasing each year. A number of colonies have been established there which have been quite successful. Corrientes contains several swampy lakes which cover many hundreds of square miles. A part of the year the greater part of these lakes is dry and then furnishes excellent pasturage. Their worst feature is that they are the breeding places of the tick and other pests to stock. A good system of drainage might make these lands invaluable. It also possesses one large body of water, called Lake Ibera.

Misiones is a little larger than Massachusetts, and has a population not exceeding thirty-five thousand. Its lands are fertile, but the climate is more tropical and it has not been developed so rapidly as the other sections of the country. It is the only province in Argentina that shares the tropical conditions of Southern Brazil. The name was derived from its settlement by the Jesuits after they were expelled from Brazil. For a time their colonies were very prosperous and thousands of Indians were gathered together at Apostoles, Santa Ana and San Ignacio. The work was all done by the Indians under the direction of the priests. The ruins of San Ignacio, which was established in the sixteenth century, and which can still be traced in the forest growth, show the solidity with which the place was built. Many ruins of the houses can still be seen, each one with a niche in which was placed the statue of a saint. New settlements of Russians and Poles have recently been established in this territory which give promise of success. There is much rich virgin land awaiting development in forest-covered Misiones. Yerba maté, tobacco, mandioca and sugar-cane grow in great abundance.

Proceeding up the Paraguay River from its junction with the Alta Paraná it is about two hundred miles to Asuncion. The river twists around over its wide bed in a very capricious manner, and in flood times spreads over thousands of square miles of the llanos, or plains. One can travel several hundred miles farther by small steamers up into the great state of Matto Grosso, Brazil, which is twice as large as Texas, and perhaps of equal fertility. The unoccupied grazing lands of that state will, some day, support millions of cattle that will be demanded by earth’s teeming millions.

Flowing into the Paraguay River from the west in Argentina are two rivers, the Bermejo and Pilcomayo, the latter of which is the international boundary line with Paraguay for a long distance. Each of these rivers is more than five hundred miles in length. The Bermejo River is entirely within Argentine territory. It is exceedingly tortuous and its actual length is about three times as great as the real distance between its source and its mouth. Small steamers can navigate it for at least half of its length.

Between these two rivers and extending across the Paraguay River into Paraguay lies what is known as the Gran Chaco. This is a broad plain, alternating with forest, which includes thousands of square miles of territory. It is the least known of Argentine territory, because of the difficulties of travel, and also because of the fact that wild and savage Indians who lead a nomadic existence are still to be found in certain sections. It was a mysterious and strange country to the early explorers. Into this wilderness the natives fled, and both fancy and imagination peopled it with all manner of strange wild beasts. The territorial boundaries were never definitely settled, until President Hayes, acting as arbitrator, fixed the boundaries between Paraguay and Argentina. These vast leagues are now divided into two territories, Formosa and Chaco. The former is almost as large as Ohio and the latter equals Illinois. In the two territories the reported population is about one person to each five square miles. There are many curious phenomena in the Chaco. The edges between plain and woodland are as clearly cut and as straight as if a surveyor had done the work. In fact the line of demarkation is drawn with remarkable exactitude. On one side will be a forest, and on the other the smooth plain stretches out with not a tree upon it to break the severity of the contrast. In other places there will be only palm trees, with not a single specimen of another species for variety. It is a land of strange watercourses. Broad streams that have ploughed all the way from the Andes in the full light of day burrow beneath the ground in the Chaco and continue their course underground. During heavy rainfalls it is claimed that small fish descend from the clouds. Fish eight or ten inches in length will be found in pools after showers, where there had been no water, and the ground had been in a parched condition for months. Do they lie imbedded in the earth like frogs? Are these fish amphibious? These questions have not yet been answered. It is a fact that there are many odd phases of nature in this little known section of Argentina; the same character is found in a goodly part of Paraguay, and it even extends up into Brazil.

A FOREST IN THE GRAN CHACO

The forest section of the Chaco is not a dense growth like the tropical forests. The trees do not stand close together; and the spaces between are not impenetrable, although some underbrush and tall grasses impede the way. Yet a man on horseback can easily thread his way through them. The only inhabitants are the Indians and half-breeds, the latter of whom are only partially civilized. Their homes are mud huts of a single room where the entire household, irrespective of age and sex, lodge. The Chaco abounds in game of many kinds. Partridges, wood-pigeons and snipe are very plentiful, and almost every species of water fowl in addition. A species of wild turkey is also to be met with, which affords most excellent sport as well as eating. The osprey, whose plumes are so much in demand, is a native of this land. The tapir, ant-eater, wild pig, jaguar and the lone wolf—a creature that has never been known to live in captivity—are found here in their native wilds. Poisonous snakes are very common, and huge pythons are occasionally encountered in the swamps. It is the innumerable insects, however, that make life almost unbearable for the white man, for he is subjected to both diurnal and nocturnal torture by the hordes of these pests.

At the present time this section is chiefly exploited for the quebracho wood. This is a very hard, fine-grained and tough wood. It was so named from the words quiebra-hacha, the axe-breaker, and was well named, for it does defy ordinary axes and saws. It is a tree found only in the Chaco. There are two varieties, the colorado (red) and blanco (white), of which the former is the most valuable. From this tree are made railroad ties which will last for thirty years, and it is the richest in tannin extract of any tree yet discovered.

The quebracho tree usually stands out by itself and is easily discernible at a distance, both from the character of its bark and the peculiar formation of its branches. Four or five trees to the acre is about the average yield. The tree is tall, two or three feet in diameter, and is crowned by a rather thin, oval mass of branches and leaves. The leaves are oval, smooth and shiny, and it is only partially deciduous. It lives to a great age, but also grows quite rapidly, so that it can be cultivated in the future as necessity demands. Formerly this tree was sought only by the railroads for their sleepers. About fifteen years ago it was found to be full of tannin, and, as oak bark was becoming scarce, this demand was rapidly developed and now forms the principal use for quebracho. Not only the bark yields tannin, but the sap and wood as well. The bark contains about eight per cent. of tannin, the sap three or four per cent., and the heart of the tree will yield as high as twenty-five per cent. of this essence so necessary to the tanner. It is a difficult and expensive product to market because of the remoteness of the forests and scattered character of the trees. In many places narrow gauged railroads and spurs have been run out through these trackless wastes in order to bring the logs to the mills or rivers. Otherwise it would be slow work, for during a large part of the year the roads are almost impassable and oxen suffer much from the climate and insects. These light railways have been found to be by far the most economical means of getting the logs to market. One company owns four million acres of the Chaco, and is prepared to cut logs into sleepers, make fence posts, or prepare it into tannin extract, whichever offers the most profit. There is a big and constantly increasing demand for all. The increase in construction of the Argentine railways makes a demand for sleepers, and failure of other sources of supply gives an ever widening market for the tannin extract.

Some of the railways in the Chaco end at the rivers, where the logs are loaded on boats and taken down to Rosario or Buenos Aires. Small sawmills are now found way out in the Chaco far from civilization. Other companies have their factories in the Chaco district, where the whole work is done and the extract prepared for shipment. This substance is known in the markets as “Quebracho Extract.” It is easily manufactured where the proper machinery has been installed. The wood is passed through a machine which cuts it into shavings and the smallest possible chips. These are collected into immense kettles, where it is treated by chemical processes until all the tannin has been removed. After this the fluid is reduced by evaporation to a thick, jelly-like mass which is poured into sacks, where it is finally dried into the substance sold in commerce. Some of the companies engaged in this business have been capitalized for very large sums, and considerable towns have grown up around their establishments. Civilization and development have followed the construction of the railroads here as everywhere.

AN INDIAN WOMAN OF THE GRAN CHACO

In 1895 the first exportation of quebracho extract is recorded from the River Plate. In that year it was four hundred tons only. By 1902 it had reached nine thousand tons, and now the annual export exceeds thirty thousand tons. Of this enormous export the United States takes fully sixty-five per cent.

There are several thousand Indians who live in the Gran Chaco, and they comprise a number of tribes, all of whom, however, have the same general characteristics. These Indians are absolutely unlettered, and they have developed no civilization or institution of their own. Furthermore, they have the reputation of being treacherous and cruel, and many small parties of whites have been treacherously murdered. They are perhaps the most barbarous of any Indians in South America. Others of the same tribes inhabit the Chaco of Paraguay. It is said by those who have made a study of them that these Chaco aborigines are more ignorant and much less tractable than any of the natives of Patagonia.

They dwell along the rivers in this great wilderness in the simplest kind of abodes, and away from the settlements wear practically no clothing whatever. One distinguishing feature is the habit of tattooing the skin, which is very common. Not only the warriors, but the women as well, indulge in this custom, which, in their opinion, beautifies them. At first glance these tattoo marks oftentimes resemble the markings of smallpox, but a closer inspection shows that it is all in geometrical design. It is effected by pricking the skin with a big thorn, dipped in an acrid milky substance obtained from a plant that grows near there, and which leaves an indelible mark wherever it touches. It is absorbed by the epidermic tissue. This juice is obtained by breaking off the clusters of flowers of the plant, called the iguoqui, and this milky substance then exudes from the stem. It is used as it comes out of the stem, for it must be fresh. The Indians are also almost hairless on the face and body, due to the habit of depilation of the skin. This latter characteristic is in common with our American red men, and the tattooing takes the place of paint.

Horrible tales are told of these Chaco Indians and their murder of travellers. On the other hand numerous instances are known where they have saved the lives of white men and tenderly ministered to their wants. They have been accused of being cannibals, and probably were in the past. “I have seen them drink the blood of animals killed for our use with avidity,” says an Argentine writer. They do not live exclusively on meat, but also eat roots and wild fruits, and the wild honey which is found in abundance. From fruits and honey they also make fermented drinks, of which they are very fond. They are nomadic, and wander from one place to another in quest of game and fruit. They have few domesticated animals, such as the dog and horse. They neither understand nor practise agriculture, although they sometimes plant little patches of corn or sugar-cane, which they have learned from the priests. They barter a little among themselves, but of trade in general they know nothing, and so they beg of travellers whom they meet instead of offering to trade. It is said they cannot even count above four. In medicine they resort to sorcery and incantations rather than to any curative herbs.

Polygamy is permitted among these Indians, but is not commonly practised. The portion of women is very much as with the red men, for to them falls the hard work of the home. If her husband dies the wife mourns for a year, and it is not proper for her to marry again during that time. She even refuses to converse and walks apart from all the others. The dead are burned by some tribes and buried by others. Those tribes who bury always place a gourd of water by the grave. This is both for the deceased and his friends, who come to visit the grave, and is probably due to a fraternal and hospitable idea in this land where a drink of refreshing water is sometimes more welcome than food.

CHAPTER V
THE GARDEN OF THE REPUBLIC

The second city in Argentina is Rosario de Santa Fé. It is the Chicago of Argentina, for it is the chief wheat market, and is about as far inland as Pittsburg. It is connected with Buenos Aires by two branches of the Central Railway, as well as river communication. Rosario is to a great extent a replica of the national capital on a much smaller scale. The streets all cross each other at right angles. One-storied buildings predominate everywhere, and I do not believe that there is a structure which exceeds three stories in the city. Even in the business section one story is the general rule. In the way of municipal improvement Rosario is up to date, and contains all the advantages of the metropolis except population. There are a number of plazas after the usual style, and a beautiful park adorns one section of the city. Electric light and cars serve the entire city, so that in physical comforts Rosario is not behind similar cities in Europe, or North America. There is quite a considerable foreign colony and each one boasts its club where the members can meet, eat, drink and be merry. Although Rosario is almost two centuries old, it was an obscure little village up to a generation ago. In the past ten years it has doubled its population.

As a commercial centre Rosario is of great importance. Tapping the greater portion of the rich provinces of Cordoba and Santa Fé, it receives enormous quantities of wheat and other cereals as well as live stock. It is accessible to ocean-going steamers, and hundreds of vessels leave it each year loaded with food for the millions of Europe. The Paraná River at this point is nearly a mile wide, and is an imposing, if not beautiful, stream of water. The river has cut its channel down into the soil to such a depth that the bluffs upon which Rosario is built stand about sixty feet high. Warehouses line these bluffs, and the wheat is transferred to the waiting vessels below by gravity. Each warehouse has a long chute running down to the river bank through which the grain is poured. It has been bagged on the estancias and is shipped in the same bags to Europe. As soon as a bag touches the chute it speeds down the inclined plane into the waiting vessel. The bags follow one another in quick succession. At harvest time the wheat often becomes congested at this port.

Large port works have been constructed so that the docks have accommodation for a goodly number of boats, although not comparing at all with Buenos Aires in extent. From here the river lines carry passengers up and down the Paraná for hundreds of miles, and then they branch off to the Paraguay and Alta Paraná. Quite a network of railway lines also converge at Rosario, and altogether it is a hustling and busy place.

The large and rich province of Santa Fé is second in importance only to that of Buenos Aires. It is long and narrow, being several hundred miles in length from its northern to its southern boundary, and is almost as large as England. The capital of the province is the city of Santa Fé. For a long time this little city was an unimportant place, even though it was the provincial capital. To-day it is, after almost three hundred and fifty years of existence, a place of about twenty-five thousand inhabitants. It is proposed to deepen the channel so that ocean-going steamers can reach this port, but this project will not be done before “to-morrow.” The northern part of this province partakes of the character of the Chaco and is undeveloped. At least three-fourths of the state, however, is rich land, well suited for the cultivation of cereals, which form the principal product, and have contributed most to the wealth. There is usually sufficient rain in this province, but its nearness to the Chaco makes it subject to a visitation which is almost equal in its destructive qualities to that of the drouth.

The farmer everywhere thinks that he has his full share of troubles. But the American farmer has never had to contend with the locusts to the extent that frequently befalls the Argentinian. One who has never seen a plague of locusts can scarcely appreciate the troubles undergone by Pharaoh when the clouds of locusts appeared as a punishment for his disobedience. The farmer in Argentina, however, can heartily sympathize with the Egyptian king, and, like him, would be willing to do or promise almost anything to secure relief from this enemy to his peace and prosperity. During the past season these abominable insects destroyed millions of dollars’ worth of grain in that republic, and roused the people to greater efforts than ever to find some means of exterminating them. In travelling across the country last winter, which is their summer, I saw thousands of acres of corn absolutely stripped of all the leaves, and millions upon millions of the winged locusts were visible from the train, so thick in places as to almost cast a shadow.

The locust is blessed, or cursed, with a voracious and unquenchable appetite. This appetite is perhaps equalled in extent only by the hatred with which it is regarded by the farmer. Prior to 1905 Argentina had not had a scourge of locusts for several years, but since that time they have come almost every year. The first intimation of their approach is usually in October, when a few flying locusts will appear coming from the north. These seem to be the advance guard, for in a few days they are followed by increasing hordes, until the clouds of insects are so thick that they obscure the sun like passing clouds. Although these locusts are so numerous they do not do so much damage, as they are migrating and do not stay in one place long. A farmer may wake up some nice morning and find his beautiful shade trees stripped almost bare by the locusts that have alighted during the night. But in a day or two these will be gone, although others may follow. Future trouble has been laid up for him, however, for eggs have been laid by the millions. These are usually deposited in a small hole which has been bored down in a bare space of ground.

With the advent of the young locusts about six weeks later the real troubles of the farmer have begun, and matters begin to wear a serious aspect. The little gaudy-coloured creatures, with their yellow, green and black bodies and red legs, are shaped very much like grasshoppers. They cannot yet fly, and for that reason remain as the guests of the landowner for several weeks while they are awaiting their final development. They pass slowly along, jumping in grasshopper fashion from stem to stem, or leaf to leaf. They cling in clusters to each leaf and stem like a devouring army, and stay there until it is absolutely bare. The extent of the damage which they are able to inflict can be seen by inspecting a corn field after their visit. The transformation is as marvellous as it is tragic. Every shred of the rich, luxuriant leaves and tassels has disappeared, and only the thin, bare stalks, shivering and desolate, remain. Even the houses will be invaded by these unpleasant creatures (beasts, the Englishman would say), and to say that they are unwelcome but mildly expresses the real feeling of the farmer who sees the fruit of his toil thus disappearing before the hordes with insatiable appetites. The only vegetable growth that will not be touched, except as a last resort, is the Paraiso tree. They will eat everything else first, and only fall back upon the leaves and bark of this tree when all other food has failed.

In about six weeks the wings have developed and the “hoppers” become “fliers.” Their bodies have waxed fatter, but their colouring has become sobered. Then flights will again become noticeable. A swarm will sometimes resemble a vast smoke-cloud from a burning city or straw stack. They will oftentimes settle on the boughs of limbs in such quantities as to cause the limbs to bend and crack beneath their weight. Carriages, trucks and the fronts of locomotives will be thickly coated with the fragments of the bodies of the insects, which they have killed. In such armies, where numbers are countless, casualties go for nothing. A trifling loss of a few thousand or a few millions is only a drop in the ocean. You might as well try to stop a cloud passing across the sky by shooting at it as a swarm of these insects.

One newspaper account, which I saw, reported: “The north and centre of Entre Rios are simply covered with locusts both in the hopper and flying stages. The city of Paraná was invaded by a swarm calculated to be nine miles in front and several miles in depth, and so thick that the sun was partially obscured. Other cities are hurriedly being enclosed with screens in order to keep the locusts at bay. In places they have completely devastated the vineyards, orchards and maize. In many places a cry of desperation is heard. In the province of Santa Fé swarms of fliers passed Santa Isabel bearing east; enormous swarms passed General Lopez proceeding west; Monte Vera reports the passage of fliers towards the north and south. The work of destruction goes on successfully. To-day between Zarate, Pilar and Campaña were destroyed sixty-eight thousand kilos (more than seventy-four tons) of saltona (hoppers).”

The farmer is in a quandary what to do. If he had only a hundred acres to look after it would not be so difficult, but none of them have fewer than thousands of acres. How to secure the labour to drive these locusts is a difficult problem.

The government has passed laws requiring each landowner to maintain men to fight the locusts, on the basis of about one to each thousand acres. If this is not done the owner is fined. The general method is to dig pitfalls three or four feet deep, the outer edge of which is protected by overlapping sheets of corrugated iron. These traps run out for some distance. The locusts, while still in the hopping stage, are driven towards this trap until these pits are oftentimes nearly filled up with their bodies. They are then covered up with a coating of earth, and they die very quickly. If this work is thoroughly done it is quite efficacious, but it is oftentimes difficult to get sufficient labour, for it is unpleasant work because of the nauseating odour from the bodies of the crushed locusts. Unless the work is systematically and thoroughly done, however, it does not have much effect, for a few millions will not be missed. If one man does his work well, and his neighbour is indifferent to his duty, then his work is for naught, as they will soon swarm over his land again from his neighbour’s fields. United effort alone is efficacious, and that is what the government is endeavouring to either induce or compel the people to do. It has a commission at work studying this and other insect pests, and the best way to exterminate them.

The source of these insects is not positively known. They come from the north, in what is known as the Chaco, which is a vast wilderness little known, and covering tens of thousands of square miles. Some think that they come from the state of Matto Grosso, in Brazil, which is an empire in itself just north of the Chaco. Accurate knowledge of the location of their hatcheries is yet wanting. The insect is fortunate in having chosen the wild and unexplored portion of the country for its home. The wisest and surest method of getting rid of these locusts, in my opinion, would be to search out this place and destroy them there. In that way it might be possible within a very few years to absolutely rid the country from this scourge of locusts as it is to-day.

AMONG THE HILLS OF CORDOBA

No one knows any good purpose that the locust serves unless a chastening against pride and vain glory. They are relished by the ostriches and poultry, who devour them greedily. Chickens will enjoy a hearty meal upon them, but the result is that the eggs are ruined for edible purposes. The interior becomes dark, almost a wine colour, and they are given a fishy flavour, which is altogether unpalatable. Thus the malice of the locust towards man holds fast even in death, and makes him useless as food for the fowls which frequent every barn-yard. It is little wonder that the far-reaching cry comes up from Argentina for help and deliverance from this awful pest.

Adjoining Santa Fé on the west is the still larger province of Cordoba. The eastern part of this province is level, but the surface begins to rise and is broken here and there by ridges and hills. During the summer season many seek the hills of Cordoba to escape the heat of the summer. There is a fine train service from Buenos Aires to Cordoba. This city is about two hundred and forty-six miles beyond Rosario. The Central Argentine runs through trains and makes the trip in about sixteen hours. The railway reaches the hills quite a while before the city of Cordoba is sighted, and there are a couple of little branches that run to Alta Gracia and Rio Segundo respectively, each of which boasts a summer colony. The former is quite noted as a health resort.

The city of Cordoba is the capital of the province of the same name, and one of the most important commercial towns of the republic. It is situated at an elevation of fourteen hundred feet and has a population of almost fifty thousand. It lies in a hollow, and can hardly be seen by the incoming traveller until almost upon the town itself. The woods and hills, with the Rio Primero (first river), in the foreground, make a very pretty picture. Cordoba has always been noted for its university, which was granting learned degrees long before our own universities were even thought of; and it has been granting them continuously ever since. It is also a strong centre of Catholicism, and has more priests in proportion to the population than any other city of Argentina. The public buildings are all very creditable, of which the University, Cathedral, National College, Normal School and government buildings are the principal. There is quite a noted observatory located on a nearby height, which is under the control of the national government. Its first director was a North American. The work accomplished by this observatory has received high praise from both Europe and America, and has aided much in the work of studying the southern heavens. There are several pretty squares and promenades. The many hotels are filled with a well dressed crowd of people in summer, and much of the fashion of the capital is transferred to this place for a few weeks.

From Cordoba the Cordoba Central Railway conveys the traveller through a not very thickly settled country and across some salty marshes to the fair city of Tucuman, which is situated in what is called the garden spot of the republic. This city is about the same elevation and has about the same temperature as Cordoba. “Have you seen Tucuman?” is a question usually asked of the foreigner, for the Argentinians look upon this city and district with a pardonable pride. Here is the effusive description of a native writer, who becomes poetic in dwelling upon the beauties of this favoured city.

“O Tucuman! thou the most beautiful among thy sisters, all hail to thee! Whether I contemplate the level plain or lift up my eyes to the lofty mountains encircling thee on the side of the Circola Massimo or the Occaso, my soul is thrilled with delight and admiration. Nature, who has been somewhat niggardly to thy companions, has lavished her gifts on thee, her favoured one, because thou wert beautiful and beloved! To thee she has given the vast plain of the Pampa, and bounded it with a semicircle of hills so as to welcome the Alisian winds, that in return for thy hospitality, enrich thee with the life-giving elements gathered in their wanderings over numberless Alpine heights, and fraternize with thy river, called by thee the Fondo, but changing its name over and over again, according to the caprice of the friendly lands whose bosoms it fertilizes. And if the sun shines on thee with burning rays, his heat is tempered by the moisture dropping from the clouds as they are rent by electricity, with sudden explosion, or prolonged thunder.

“Hence thy soil is verdant in the winter, and in spring is adorned with innumerable flowers—a treasure-house of exotics—giving place one to the other for thy embellishment during half the year; and in the summer and autumn thou gatherest abundantly the fruits of a few growths.”

The city is laid out in the usual checkerboard fashion, with extremely narrow streets. In a public hall here the declaration of independence was signed on the 9th of July, 1816. There are a number of large churches, a cathedral and several schools. The spiritual welfare of the people is not neglected through lack of opportunity to attend service. There is a public library, a theatre, etc. It is an ancient town, having been founded in what was then a remote district, in 1585. It is in sight of some very high peaks of the Andes, although a considerable distance away. Tucuman is in the centre of a rich sugar district, there being about thirty sugar factories at work. Almost one hundred thousand tons of sugar have been produced in a single year, in addition to large quantities of alcohol. Rice growing is also quite a feature of this district. The soil is carefully cultivated and irrigation is resorted to by many of the planters, for an abundance of water is easily obtained. The climate is what might be termed semi-tropical. Tucuman is the last city of any size or great importance in the northwestern provinces.

North of Tucuman are the provinces of Salta and Jujuy, both of which reach to the borders of Bolivia. To the west of Tucuman lie the provinces of Rioja and Catamarca, as well as the territory of Los Andes, all of which border Chile. These are all mountainous states, but they are neither small nor unimportant. The smallest one is as large as Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Maryland, and the largest one, Salta, is nearly as large as all of New England. The altitude of the towns varies from Rioja, the capital of the province of the same name, at an altitude of only seventeen hundred feet, to Jujuy, capital of that province, which lies four thousand two hundred and seventy feet above sea level, and is the highest city in the republic. Jujuy is distant just about one thousand miles from Buenos Aires by railroad, and is at the foot of the spurs of the range of mountains that reach up into Bolivia. Although so near the Tropic of Capricorn yet the elevation prevents the extreme heat that prevails in the lowlands during the summer, while the freezing point is never reached in winter. The scenery in the neighbourhood of this city is really beautiful, for hill and valley, wood and plain all contribute to make up an enchanting landscape. When the connection with the Bolivian railway is completed this city will be on another transcontinental line from the Atlantic to the Pacific. The territory of Los Andes, in the extreme northwestern corner of the country, is the most mountainous section and is very little known.

The provinces of Cordoba and Santa Fé are the home of many beautiful birds. One of the most gorgeous of humming-birds is to be found here. Its body is green streaked with gold, with a vivid scarlet tail. A common song bird is the bien te veo (I see you well), so named because its song is supposed to represent those words. The call, which is an extremely musical one, is repeated over and over again. It is brightly coloured and is a species of thrush. The oven-bird is a favourite bird and is looked upon much as the robin with us. It is chiefly remarkable for its nest, which is built of mud and is entered by a doorway. The nests are usually built upon any convenient post, and in places one will find half of the telephone and telegraph posts surmounted by one of these nests. It is a common saying that the oven-bird will not, under any consideration, build its nest on a Sunday.

There are many birds of the vulture tribe in Argentina. Patagonia is especially a wonderful country for these birds of prey. Of these the chinango is a small carrion-hawk of a brown-gray colour. Another is the carancho, which is very common throughout the Camp. This bird is a dark brown with a light band across the wings. These two birds prefer carrion, but will attack enfeebled and helpless small animals such as hares or lambs.

“Next comes the condor, awful bird,

On the mountains’ highest tops,

Has been known to eat up boys and girls

And then to lick its chops.”

Thus runs the nursery rhyme about the chief of the larger army of the vulture tribe, which is common in the states adjacent to the Andes. Seen against the pale blue of the sky, swerving in graceful circles at a great height amidst the inner solitudes of the Andine peaks, its stately flight and grand spread of motionless wing make it seem like a noble bird. On a nearer view it shares the repulsive appearance of all birds that feed on dead animal flesh. Eagles are scarce in the Andes, and the condors take their place. They are difficult to approach unless they are gorged so that they cannot fly. Their size is enormous. One writer tells of killing one in Patagonia that measured nine feet, three inches across the outstretched pinions, and some of even greater size are reported. They are sometimes four feet long from tip of beak to tail. They hatch their young amid the snow-covered crags at an altitude of twenty thousand feet, so it is said, for they can endure a temperature which renders human existence impossible.

These birds, which fly so high that they become mere specks on the intense blue of the skies, exceed the vulture in their ability to discover a dead carcass. It has been said that they will follow a mule train a long distance waiting for a disabled animal to be left behind. If a sick animal, large or small, is found they will immediately pluck out the eyes, and then wait for the animal to die before eating it. They fly so high that it is impossible to shoot them, and the only way to kill the condor is to place a dead animal as a decoy and then lay in ambush until the birds appear. It is one thing to admire these birds wheeling in graceful circles on quiescent wing, but it would be quite another for the lonely and helpless traveller out among the hills where no help was near. Long before aid could come this powerful and unscrupulous bird might discover the helpless one. These gigantic birds have been tamed when captured at a sufficiently early age. Some have found them interesting pets, but their immense size soon makes their presence very undesirable around the house and farmyard.

Argentina is undoubtedly rich in mineral deposits which have as yet scarcely been touched. All along the Andes, from Bolivia, herself extremely rich in the precious metals, to Tierra del Fuego, traces of silver, gold and copper have been found. The indifference to the exploitation of this mineral wealth may be due to the lack of available capital, the difficulties of transportation of the ore and the scarcity of fuel in the mineral zones of the country. The exports of all minerals do not reach half a million dollars yearly, of which copper is one of the principal items. The early history of the country records a story of marvellous wealth dug from the earth. The future may have a still greater story to tell. The workings of many of these earlier mines have been absolutely lost. The locations of mines from which fabulous wealth was wrung are unknown to-day. Some of these mines date back to the early conquerors, and others to the Incas themselves, who overran this section of the country. Ancient bronze instruments of that race have been found here, giving indisputable evidence of that fact, although it is doubtful if they ever had a permanent abode in these mountains. The Indians used to bring tributes of gold to the priests, but would not reveal the site of the hidden mines.

The principal mines of Argentina, that are being worked to-day, are in the provinces of Rioja and Catamarca, in the northwestern part of the republic, and in Mendoza. The most important are undoubtedly the Famatima copper mines of Rioja. The government has recently constructed a wonderful aerial wire ropeway here which is really a marvel and has greatly aided in transporting the metals. The main ropeway is nearly twenty-five miles in length, with its highest terminal nearly fourteen thousand feet above sea level. Power is available for control and to assist the upward traffic. One span of this wonderful ropeway is half a mile in length where it cuts across a deep valley.

Argentina possesses some fine marble quarries and their production has been gradually increasing. The production of gold and silver is comparatively small. Within the past year petroleum has been found near Mendoza, and a number of good wells have been sunk. If this valuable oil can be found in large quantities it will go a long ways toward solving the problem of cheaper fuel. Nearly three million tons of coal are imported annually to supply the need of fuel. Nearly all of this coal is imported from England, the shipments from the United States in 1909 being only a few thousand tons, but petroleum products are nearly all imported from North America. The value of the products of the mines of Argentina will average nearly a million dollars a year.

CHAPTER VI
THE PROVINCE OF GOOD AIRS

“You must see La Plata.”

I heard this from so many Argentinians that it led me to visit this made-to-order city of which they are so proud. It is an hour’s ride—thirty-five miles—from Buenos Aires to La Plata. After leaving the suburbs the train crosses the dead level of the pampas in a line as direct as the crow would fly. Through great estancias, with their immense herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, the line passes, after escaping from the suburbs of the metropolis, with a half dozen small and unimportant towns along the route, in which the one-storied buildings are ever built in monotonous lines with the front wall a little higher than the rest in order to give it a fictitious height. One explanation given me for this high front is that it acted as a protection in street fighting. Whether built for that purpose or not, this parapet has frequently been used by both civilians and troops as a protection in the revolutionary scrimmages which have been so frequent in the past. At last the train runs into an imposing station that would be a credit to almost any city, with a façade which is really an architectural gem. This is La Plata, the wonderful.

When the national government appropriated the city of Buenos Aires as the national capital the inhabitants of the province of the same name, which had hitherto dominated the country, were highly indignant. Unable to change the official edict they set to work to create a rival city. At that time there was not even a settlement at La Plata, and only a few mud huts denoted its location. A site down the river was chosen in order to secure a deeper natural channel, and avoid the necessity of so much dredging to keep the channel free from mud. A new port, called Enseñada, was constructed, with commodious docks, the new capital having been located five miles back from the water front. To complete this stupendous undertaking the province assumed a bonded debtedness of $70,000,000, most of which was obtained in Europe, and not until then was the vanity of these provincials appeased. It was one of the greatest follies that the Argentinians have ever engaged in.

It was in 1881 that the government decided to build this new capital for the province of Buenos Aires. It was to be a model city, and worthy of its rank as the chief city of the wealthiest province of an opulent republic. To this end the finest architectural raiment for a corporate body that could possibly be conceived was erected, with all the ostentation possible in a Latin nation. Magnificent public buildings, palatial law courts, a great cathedral and stately edifices of every kind—all were comprised in the scheme. Broad avenues paved and planted with rows of trees, stretching their long lengths between the imposing facades, were traced upon paper by the architects, and builders were set at work to reproduce these plans out of brick, stone and mortar, and the resulting city of La Plata stands to-day as their monument.

The city was laid out with an astonishing degree of boldness and originality, and upon an ambitious scale. It was hoped by the builders that its splendour would bring to mind those pictured conceptions of the perfect town. Each edifice was to be so placed as to lend its own proper proportion of dignity. In this model town there was to be no crowding together of palaces, as had heretofore been common in Spanish cities, nor were rows of squalid little one-storied houses to be permitted to jostle with their imposing fronts the walls of stately palaces. No, not in La Plata. To accomplish this result the resplendent palaces were planted at regular intervals about the city, each in its own garden and faced by its own boulevard and plaza, and separated from the next one by a becoming row of private houses. There was to be no confusion or congestion as a result of buildings crowded together, and no vulgar hustling. In justice to the builders it may be said that there never has been anything of the latter quality, for the strenuous life has never yet found lodgment in La Plata.

“A SOMNOLENT ATMOSPHERE SEEMS TO PREVAIL”

The first impression upon the visitor is very peculiar, for a somnolent atmosphere seems to prevail. As one emerges from the station two broad thoroughfares open up before him. These broad streets, which are still designated by numbers, with their extensive sweep of carriageway, were designed to resound to the hoofs of horses and the noise of wheels; their broad pavements were intended to ring with the tramp of multitudinous feet—but they do not. The founders of La Plata reckoned without their host. One may gaze down the entire length of a street and not see a single figure; one might stroll through any of the little parks set out with trees and palms and find every bench unoccupied. The vast white palaces are practically empty. Occasionally one will see an electric car sweep leisurely around the corner, or a cabman lazily waiting for a “fare,” but the car does not hurry and the cab driver does not worry over his inactivity. One wonders where the inhabitants are. The fact is that the few who do live here fill so little of the space that they are seldom seen. It has never succeeded in becoming a residential city in spite of the beauty of the parks, the low rentals and other advantages. The grass is abundant everywhere. In fact some people are so unfeeling as to assert that the green grass grows all round, round, round, as the song has it. As it is, the green tufts thrust themselves upward in many places through the pavements and around the rough cobble-stones of the driveways. In some of the suburban streets a little more grass would make a solid lawn. It sprouts from crevices of neglected walls and roofs, and even from the uncompleted walls of the great cathedral, which lies in neglect. This structure, great in plan, is oppressively desolate in its abandonment and the silence that broods over it. The sparrows build their nests within its yawning walls and are undisturbed, and one wonders how long such a condition will remain.

THE LEGISLATIVE PALACE, LA PLATA

Magnificent buildings have been built and are in use. The Government Palace is a beautiful building set facing a great and imposing plaza. The Legislative Palace, Municipal Building, Law Courts, Bank of the Province of Buenos Aires and other palaces are all splendid buildings, worthy the capital of one of our own states. In them some life is visible, and one will find a number of clerks busy over the books in which the records of the provincial business are kept. The officials prefer to live in Buenos Aires and make the trip back and forth each day, spending only a few hours in La Plata. A university, one of three in the republic, has been built with beautiful buildings adapted to its purposes, and a number of students are enrolled on its roster. There is a beautiful park with a fine zoological garden where the roar of the lion and the trumpet of the elephant disturb the silence of the groves. It contains one of the finest avenues of trees that I have ever seen. In the centre of this park has been built a large museum, which is a treasure-house of curios of the native tribes of South America. When the public offices close after five or six hours of opened doors, and the evening train pulls out for Buenos Aires, La Plata sinks into repose until another day breaks.

There was a time when La Plata was a livelier place. The docks at Enseñada were much used before the new docks were constructed at the larger capital. Now the great boats, flying the flags of Great Britain, France and Germany, steam majestically by this sleepy port and unload their passengers and freight at Argentina’s metropolis. Nevertheless this city with its palatial buildings and broad streets, overspread with silent gloom, is still the official capital of a province. There are those who say that La Plata is only sleeping, merely in a state of coma from which it will emerge one day and surprise the world with its great and wonderful doings. Perhaps—maybe; that is for the future to decide. If it has a great future it probably lies in the docks at Enseñada, although a large slaughtering house has recently been built here by an American firm. At the present time it is enjoying a prolonged siesta from which nothing seems to awaken it. Built for a hundred thousand people there are not more than half of that number that live there.

The province of Buenos Aires is the richest and most populous province in Argentina. Including the federal capital, it contains one-third of the entire population. On several occasions this province seriously considered secession from the rest of the republic—but that was before it lost the metropolis. In area it is more than twice the size of Illinois, and resembles that state very much in its physical characteristics. It contains a number of towns of fair size, and a trip across the province to Bahia Blanca, about three hundred miles distant, is a very interesting journey.

There are two or three different routes, but the most interesting one is that via Tandil. Passing out through the English suburb of Temperly, the main line heads out for the level pampa with scarcely a turn for mile after mile. The fields are thickly dotted with cattle and sheep, for this is one of the best stock countries in the republic. Although a number of small stations are passed it is not until Dolores is reached, after a run of more than a hundred miles, that there is a town of any size. This is a city of probably eight thousand, with the usual plaza and church of the Camp towns, and is a junction point for several branches of the Great Southern. It is the seat of the courts of justice for the southern portion of the province, and has a prison of considerable size. At Maipu is the branch for Mar del Plata, the seaside resort, but the main line turns westward. This passes through a fine pastoral district where Scotch landowners are very numerous and prosperous. Soon afterwards the railroad enters the only transverse range of hills in Argentina, some of the peaks of which reach an elevation of from three to four thousand feet and furnish a pleasing variation to the monotony of the horizontal landscape. Tandil, which is distant from Buenos Aires more than two hundred miles, is picturesquely located among these hills and has a population of several thousand. About three miles from the town is the famous rocking stone, which is an irregular flattened cone about thirteen feet in height and sixteen feet in diameter at its base, and is so beautifully poised on the edge of a slope that it sometimes moves even in a slight breeze. And yet the combined strength of several teams of horses has been unable to move it from its base. There are many other picturesque spots and curiosities in this neighbourhood, and there is a very pretty waterfall formed by a stream which comes down among the hills. Juarez and Tres Arroyos are the only other towns of any importance until the thriving new port of Bahia Blanca is reached, at the mouth of the Naportá Grande.

PUERTO GALVAN, BAHIA BLANCA

Bahia Blanca, the “white bay,” is a thriving place. It is a name the significance of which is not yet wholly appreciated in the United States, or the world at large, for its importance has not yet been fully grasped. The growth of this city has been phenomenal, mushroom-like, and yet its development has been substantial. As a port its strategic value cannot well be overestimated. It is the only safe naval harbour for the big battleships, and the government has built an arsenal and docks on the eastern side of the estuary, called the Puerto Militar. It is a natural outlet for one of the richest agricultural sections of the republic. The wheat which was formerly shipped to Buenos Aires, and exported from that port, is now loaded on ocean liners from Bahia Blanca, and forwarded to Europe. The railroads are pushing out their lines west and south, and opening up new wheat and grazing lands each year, so that the shipments from this port are jumping by leaps and bounds. Not very long ago this site was nothing but a sandy waste, with an unimportant settlement at which only coasting vessels stopped. Now there are electric tramways and lights, great elevators and a good system of docks. The value of the land has increased and a few far-sighted individuals have reaped fortunes. The “boom,” if such it can be called, is still on as development progresses. The Great Southern Railway at first had a monopoly on the business of this port, but the Buenos Aires and Pacific has built into it, and now claims a share. The port works of the Great Southern form an addition by themselves and are called Ingeniero White, in honour of the engineer who built them. Several moles and elevators with an enormous capacity and which cost a million and a half of dollars have been constructed at these terminals. Puerto Galvan is the name of the Pacific Railroad terminals. To what extent Bahia Blanca will become a rival to Buenos Aires is uncertain, but it seems to me that there is room for both and to spare. It now ranks next after Rosario. Three hundred miles is a goodly distance, and each town ought to continue to grow rapidly, and neither necessarily at the expense of the other. Bahia Blanca is bound to expand, as she has the great undeveloped western pampas and the fertile part of Northern Patagonia right at her very doors. At the present time Bahia Blanca has a population in the neighbourhood of fifty thousand inhabitants.

Between Bahia Blanca and the Andes lie three rich territories, all of them of goodly size. The most important one at present is La Pampa, which is directly west of the southern half of the province of Buenos Aires. It is about the size of Iowa and is rapidly being populated and stocked. A few years ago this territory was entirely undeveloped, and the gaucho in charge of wandering herds of sheep held full sway. Railway extensions brought private ownership, however, and now this territory bids fair to become one of the richest sections of the republic. The Western and Southern Railways are both continually pushing extensions across the fertile plains, and material prosperity everywhere follows. It now has a population of about one person to each square mile. According to statistics it is third in the number of sheep of all the territorial divisions, which is a good showing for a new country. Wheat and flax culture is also being rapidly developed. Toay and General Acha are the only towns of any importance, the latter of which is the capital.

The territory of Rio Negro lies directly to the south of La Pampa and stretches from the Atlantic Ocean to the Andes. It lies between the Colorado and Chubut Rivers, and is watered by the Negro River as well. Along these rivers there are a number of estancias already located, most of which are owned by companies and many by foreign landowners. A new branch of the Southern Railway has been constructed across this territory, following the Rio Colorado, the red river, for some distance, then cutting across to and following the Rio Negro, the black river, as far as the town of Neuquen. This has led to the establishment of other estancias along those streams. All three of these rivers carry an abundance of water, and it will not be long until the question of irrigation will be taken up on the same lines as in our own western states; then there will be a development take place that will make this land blossom as the rose. The possibilities are there and the great demands for grains will sooner or later lead to this action. There is no doubt that those lands are fully as rich as any part of Colorado or California, and that is saying a good deal. The Rio Negro and Rio Chubut are both navigable for vessels of light draught for a considerable distance.

Neuquen is another large territory, as large as Ohio, lying right at the base of the Andes. It is mostly mountainous and as yet very little is known about this province, as few have visited it. Its population does not exceed fifteen or twenty thousand, many or most of whom are Indians. The rainfall is not abundant, but it is well watered by the streams which are formed by the melting snows. It is possible that it could be cultivated just as profitably as the province of Mendoza, which joins it on the north, and which partakes of much of the same character of soil and physical configuration as Neuquen. Chos Malal, a small town in the mountains, is the capital, but it is difficult of access. A railroad extension, however, is now headed in that direction.

The slopes of the Andes here and in many parts of the republic are covered with valuable timbers. If these timbers were near the markets or easy transport they would be worth fabulous sums. As it is Argentina imports nearly all her building lumber at high prices, with an undeveloped wealth of timber within her own borders. Most of these forest lands have scarcely been explored, and it would be impossible to give even a faint estimate of their real value, but it is undoubtedly very great.

CHAPTER VII
THE MYSTERIOUS LAND OF THE PATA-GOAS

Patagonia has always been a land of mystery. Only a few years ago the geographers labelled it “no man’s land,” because no nation seemed interested in it. Later Chile and Argentina, longing to expand, cast envious eyes upon this great territory immediately adjoining their borders, and parcelled it out between themselves. The Andes was made the general boundary line, and this gave to Argentina by far the greatest share of the territory. Even Tierra del Fuego, the Land of Fire, was thus divided, so that each nation has a share in that large island which is the last inhabited land on the way to the Antarctic continent.

Patagonia impresses the traveller as vast and elemental. Its natural configuration is stamped with these characteristics. From its northern boundary it tapers gradually to the Straits of Magellan. The Argentine section naturally divides itself into three divisions, running north and south. Along the Atlantic shores lie the pampas, the flat and level plains. These plains rise in gently graduated terraces toward the west, one level plain above another. Then follows a network of lagoons and lakes, some connected by rivers and others by channels, many of which shift and alter under the climatic influences. On the western side the Andes range of the Cordilleras stand out against the sky like a mighty barrier. They are a tumult of mountains ever climbing upwards, their lofty gorges choked with glaciers, their hollows holding great lakes of ice-cold blue waters, and about their bases stretch thousands of miles of forests of which only the mere edge has been explored. Thus it is that the vast extent of Patagonia offers the most extreme and the most abrupt contrasts. Flat pampa, with hardly an undulation in sight, stands in sight of mountains almost inaccessible in their steep escarpments. Side by side these contrasts lie, mountain against plain, forest against thorn-scrub. The wind is the only element common to both. For a thousand miles the Atlantic coast is a low-lying, level, treeless series of bleak and brown downs, with few bays that offer protection to shipping; the Pacific coast, in Chile, is dented and notched with fiords, and the shores are covered with dense forests due to the excessive rainfall.

Patagonia is a land of big distances. On the Atlantic coastland it is often a ride of three or four days from one farm to another. The holdings are measured by the square league and not by the quarter-section. There is one farm that covers five hundred square leagues, or more than two million acres of land, and is larger than the state of Rhode Island. No wonder the distances seem almost appalling to the traveller. One accustomed only to cities would indeed feel very forlorn here. As one travels into the interior, a white face becomes more and more rare; empty leagues upon leagues surround you on every side. One seems to stand alone with only the wind, the mirages and the limitless distances, and the blue sky above for a canopy. This wild land appears, according to geologists, to have been the last habitation of the greater beasts of preceding ages. It is now one of the last to be occupied by civilized man, and receive its proper share of the human population.

The discovery of Patagonia dates from 1520, when that intrepid explorer, Ferdinand Magellan, forced his way down the east coast of South America in the face of continuous storms. With his little fleet of five vessels he pushed on in the hope of finding a strait which connected the two oceans. He was compelled to winter one season along the coast of Patagonia. A mutiny broke out among his captains and only one remained loyal. Two of the others were executed, and one was marooned upon the shore. For months no signs of life appeared on shore, although expeditions were sent a short distance into the interior; but one day a painted savage, very tall, appeared. One of the crew wrote, “So tall was this man that we came up to the level of his waist-belt. He was well enough made and had a broad face, painted red, with yellow circles around his eyes, and two heart-shaped spots on his cheeks.” Thus was the report of giants inhabiting Patagonia first carried back to civilization. They were named Pata-goas, big feet, and that name has since clung to the country. Sir Francis Drake visited these shores a half-century later with a small squadron, and during the succeeding hundred years a number of navigators skirted along the coast. Several of them brought back tales of the giants, but these have since been found erroneous, as the Indians are not much taller than the North American Indians, whom they strongly resemble in physical characteristics. Darwin visited this country early in the last century and gave the first detailed account of the country and people, and his report dwelt strongly upon the desolate character of the land. Since then it has become better known, and a number of travellers as well as scientists have visited Patagonia and recorded their impressions. The Chilean and Argentine boundary commissions have also been at work for several years, establishing the international boundaries, and their reports have contained much valuable information.

On the eastern coast there are a number of settlements, such as Santa Cruz, San Julian and Gallegos, at the mouths of the half-dozen rivers which pour their icy waters across the wind-swept plains. Gallegos is the name given by the Spaniards to the strong west wind, so this name was given to a river, and, finally, to the little settlement at its mouth. This village of corrugated iron is a Mecca for the sheep-men and Indians who dwell in the vicinity. From it a few highways may be traced out on the pampas, where they disappear. The Welsh have founded settlements at Dawson, Gaimon and Trelew, which have grown into thriving colonies, and there are a few smaller ones in the interior. The Welsh settlements are made up of good sturdy folk, who are excellent pioneers for an undeveloped country.

The sheep ranchers on these lonely pampas are interesting studies. Some of them own hundreds of thousands of these useful little animals, and there is one company that possesses more than two millions which are kept on their several ranches. These are usually divided into herds of a couple of thousand each. Each flock has several square miles of pasture allotted to it. The shepherd has a number of dogs who aid him in controlling the recalcitrant ones, and they understand their masters’ orders very well. These herders are Scotchmen, Germans and half-breeds. The animals feed all the year around on the pastures. The successful ranch in Patagonia must possess both a winter camp and summer camp. The winter camp is land available for pasturage which is protected from the fierce winds and where the snow does not fall too deep for the sheep to get at the grass, as no provender is put up for them. The summer camp is any other grazing land which is so exposed that sheep could not feed on it during the winter. From this it may easily be seen that the number of sheep that can be maintained is determined not by the total acreage, but by the extent of winter camp. Even under the best conditions an unusually severe winter greatly decimates a flock. At the end of winter the shepherds always go out over the ranch, taking the pelts off the bodies of the animals that have perished during the winter. Another feature to be sought is accessibility for the bringing in of supplies and taking out of the wool. For this reason most of the ranches are located near the rivers so that boats can be used. From some places in the interior it is a trip occupying days and weeks for the ranchman to transport the wool to market.

A SHEEP DIP

The estancia buildings are usually insignificant affairs, for all the material has to be brought long distances. One of the most distinctive features is a large square corral into which the stock can be driven, and the miles upon miles of wire fencing which spread out across the plains in a thin line. Every farm has its own store, where the men get their supplies at good prices. The “scab” is one of the enemies of the sheep here, as elsewhere, and the ranchers constantly fight it. The “dip” is usually employed, in which the sheep are washed several times each year. It is expensive to keep the sheep free from this troublesome little parasite, which spreads so rapidly, but it must be done, for it will eat into the flesh and the sheep will frequently die before many days after infection. The dip fluid is placed in large vats so deep that the sheep must swim in order to get through it, and they are then driven into it at one end and emerge on a dripping board at the other side, where they are allowed to remain for a few minutes for the “dip” to drip and run back into the pool. The cost of running a sheep ranch in Patagonia is comparatively small because of the low value of the land and low wages paid.

It is not difficult to leave civilization behind in Patagonia. For hundreds of miles in the interior there are few pioneers and only an occasional tribe of wandering Indians. Otherwise it is absolutely unpeopled. Near the Cordilleras it is practically houseless; scarcely a human inhabitant can be found, and little animal life flourishes under the snow peaks and in the unmeasured spaces of virgin forest. There are hundreds of square miles of forest land, gorges, open slopes and terraced hollows, on which the eye of a white man has never yet fallen.

For the traveller across this vast land it is necessary to take a supply of food and an entire camp outfit, including a reliable guide. A man alone seems very puny within this vast setting. The wind-blown grass stretches out as far as the eye can see, with the thorn and a green shrub called “poison-bush” for variety. In other places the surface undulates in graceful monotony, and occasionally a swift-flowing river cuts across the plains on its impatient way to the sea. Mirages like lakes or squadrons of cavalry will often be seen near the horizon. Many long reaches are almost desert wastes and are known as the “land without water.” Over the sterile wastes the cold winds from the Andes sweep and raise great dust and sand storms which are almost blinding and suffocating.

Herds of wild cattle are found in some places, although not in such numbers as the stories that are sometimes heard down in that region would lead one to believe. The guanaco is the principal game animal, and helps out the traveller in the way of food. This animal is very much like a wild llama and they are found by the thousands, although generally in small herds. They look very picturesque when seen in an attentive attitude, with their long sleek necks stretched out in inquiry or curiosity. Wild ostriches may also be found in many parts, while duck and geese are generally plentiful where there is water. Of the wild animals the puma is the most dangerous, and will sometimes attack a man. He is a terrible foe to the sheep farmer, levying heavy toll upon his flocks before strychnine or a bullet puts an end to his career. The wolf is another enemy of the farmer. The curious armadillo is quite common, and is considered very good eating by the hunter.

Lake Buenos Aires is one of the big lakes of Patagonia. One writer, who spent several weeks in that vicinity, says: “Lake Buenos Aires is certainly the very heart of the wind’s domain. While we were there the wind never died down; it blew all the time, often lifting sand and gravel, and sometimes a great piece of our camp fire, sheltered as that was. It raged on most days, blowing so hard that most people in England would not have cared to venture out of doors.” This lake is the largest of a chain of lakes which lie in the foothills of the great Andes system. It is fully seventy-five miles in length from north to south, and its waters are in perpetual motion from the action of the winds. Near the lake is a stretch of arid land that is the very picture of desolation. There is a very horror of bareness about it that almost makes the eyes sick to look upon it. Right near it is one of those sudden contrasts that one will find in Patagonia, fine and fertile land where sweet flowers bloom in profusion. Lake Argentine is another large lake to the south of the other. It is a great sheet of blue water, is higher up, and the peaks of the Cordilleras are nearer. This lake and those farther south are often filled with small icebergs, for the climate is getting colder all the way.

At almost the southernmost point of the mainland lies the little city of Punta Arenas. It is situated on the Straits of Magellan, and is sheltered from the worst storms by the many islands which lie between it and the Antarctic seas. Punta Arenas is the most southerly city in the world, several hundred miles farther south than the Cape of Good Hope. There is plenty of building space left in this city, but a few years ago, when the boom was on, the people had visions of a southern Chicago. Fabulous prices were asked for building lots and real estate agents were almost as plentiful as the Indians. That time has passed and the town has dwindled. Its latitude is about that of Labrador, but it is much more equable and is not so severe as many imagine. Perhaps fifteen thousand people live here and seem to be contented. It is a very mixed population. You can hear Spanish, English, German, Italian, Russian and even the Chinese mingled with the guttural tongues of the Indians. The Scotch are probably the most thrifty of the inhabitants and many of them have lived there two or three generations. There are many rough characters, some even who have drifted from the mining camps of our western states. The loafing places are the bars, where many brawls occur during the long winters. There are clubs, however, where the well-to-do gather and have their games and drink their favourite drinks just as they do the world over. Most of the buildings are cheap one-story affairs, frequently built of the corrugated iron so common in this land. Punta Arenas is a free port, and this makes it a great supply station for vessels passing through the straits. All the vessels passing through the straits call there for supplies and coal, and this business, together with the trade in whaling products, wool and furs, furnish the inhabitants with employment. It is one of the great wool-exporting ports of the world, having shipped more than sixteen million pounds of that commodity in a single season, and four hundred thousand pelts. It is a beautiful ride through the Straits of Magellan, with their many narrow channels, and the icebergs, which are always in view.

NATIVE INDIANS OF PATAGONIA

Out upon the pampas the traveller will occasionally stumble upon the toldos (huts) of the Tehuelche Indians. These are simply made huts of the skins of the guanaco sewn loosely together at the edges, and supported squarely upon awkward-looking props or posts forked at the top to admit the ridge poles. The skins are fastened to the earth by wooden pegs. The Tehuelches are the native Indians of Patagonia—the so-called giants—and are well built specimens of manhood. These Indians live almost as their ancestors did hundreds of years ago. They are still nomads and exist entirely by the chase. They do not cultivate anything whatever, but sometimes own a few cattle. In general they still dress in skins, although some of them have purchased store clothes at the settlements. As a rule they are mild mannered, when sober, and do not deserve the name of being bloodthirsty savages. Their numbers have greatly decreased since the first discovery of Patagonia through dissipation and disease, and some have estimated that the total number yet remaining will not exceed a few hundred. They still hunt with bows and arrows and the bolas. This consists of three thongs of rawhide fastened together at one end, with stones or bits of iron on the free end to give them weight. The Indian throws the bolas with marvellous accuracy at any animal he may be pursuing, and the thongs wind themselves around the legs of the animal, thus entangling it. The principal game animal is the guanaco, which furnishes them food, raiment and shelter, and skins which they can barter with the trader for fire-water or other luxuries.

They are an ignorant and superstitious race. A death will invariably cause them to shift their camp, for to their superstitious minds the place must be accursed. Sickness is always the work of the evil spirit and is driven away by incantations. With them there are good spirits and bad devils. The dominant spirit of evil is called Gualicho. He is an ever-present terror, and they spend a good portion of the time in either fleeing from his wrath or propitiating it. They believe in a future life which will be much the same as the earthly one, except that there will always be plenty of food with an abundance of grease.

There are practically no tribal laws, as the Tehuelches are usually peaceable. Quarrels and fights occur only as a result of drink. Polygamy is permitted but is uncommon. The women are well treated, although they have the bulk of the work to do as among all primitive tribes. The men practically live on their horses and a Tehuelche is lost without a steed. The women are not at all overburdened with beauty. Progress does not appeal to the Tehuelche. As his forefathers were, so is he content to be—a human atom with a movable home, passing hither and thither upon the waste and dreary spaces of his native land. He is silent when in the presence of strangers, dignified at all times; unobtrusive as well as inoffensive, and very lazy. He does not particularly care to mingle with white people, but will not run away from them.

USELESS BAY, TIERRA DEL FUEGO

The Fuegian Archipelago, that little known group of islands at the southern extremity of South America, covers a goodly territory. It contains as much land as Nebraska, and is several hundred miles long from east to west. A perfect labyrinth of tortuous, wind-swept waterways separate the hundreds of islands which form this group. They are no doubt formed by the submerging of the lower end of the Andes Mountains. When the land sank these stormy waters beat through the valleys and chiselled the shores into incongruous shapes and labyrinths. They are not all a desolate mass of ice and snow, however, but contain plains which are covered with succulent grasses and slopes which are thickly wooded. The largest island, called Tierra del Fuego, is half as large as Illinois. It is divided longitudinally between Chile and Argentina, by far the largest portion belonging to the former nation, and the best part of it too. This name was originally given to the entire group of islands by Magellan when he saw the trails of smoke made by the camp and signal fires of the natives who dwelt on them.