Argentina from a British Point of View, and Notes on Argentine Life
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Title: Argentina from a British Point of View, and Notes on Argentine Life
Compiler: Campbell Patrick Ogilvie
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARGENTINA FROM A BRITISH POINT OF VIEW, AND NOTES ON ARGENTINE LIFE ***
ARGENTINA FROM A BRITISH POINT OF VIEW
AND
NOTES ON ARGENTINE LIFE.
With Photographs and Diagrams.
EDITED BY
CAMPBELL P. OGILVIE.
LONDON:
WERTHEIMER, LEA & CO.,
CLIFTON HOUSE, WORSHIP STREET, E.C
1910.
PRINTED BY WERTHEIMER, LEA & CO., CLIFTON HOUSE, WORSHIP STREET, LONDON,
E.C
DEDICATED To _all_ THE SHAREHOLDERS OF THE SANTA FÉ LAND COMPANY,
LIMITED, _who take a real interest in the Company_.
PREFACE.
In May last I was asked to read, towards the end of the year, a paper on
Argentina, before the Royal Society of Arts. The task of compiling that
paper was one of absorbing interest to me; and though I fully realise
how inadequately I have dealt with so interesting a subject, I venture
to think that the facts and figures which the paper contains may be of
interest to some, at any rate, of the Shareholders of the Santa Fé Land
Company. It is upon this supposition that it is published.
Whilst I was obtaining the latest information for the paper (which was
read before the Royal Society of Arts on November 30th, 1910), several
members of the staff of the Santa Fé Land Company aided me by writing
some useful and interesting notes on subjects connected with Argentina,
and also giving various experiences which they had undergone whilst
resident there. I am indebted to the writers for many hints on life in
Argentina, and as I think that others will find the reading of the notes
as engaging as I did, they are now reproduced just as I received them,
and incorporated with my own paper in a book of which they form by no
means the least interesting part.
The final portion of the book--Leaves from a journal entitled "The
Tacuru"--is written in a lighter vein. It describes a trip through some
of the Northern lands of the Santa Fé Land Company, and it is included
because, although frankly humorous, it contains much really useful
information and many capital illustrations, I should, however, mention
that this journal was written by members of the expedition, and was
originally intended solely for their own private edification and
amusement; therefore all the happier phases of the trip are noted; but I
can assure my English readers that the trip, well though it was planned,
was not all luxury.
To the many who have helped me in this work I tender my most sincere
thanks.
CAMPBELL P. OGILVIE.
LAWFORD PLACE,
MANNINGTREE, ESSEX,
_December, 1910_.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
ARGENTINA FROM A BRITISH POINT OF VIEW 1
HISTORY OF THE SANTA FÉ LAND COMPANY, LIMITED 33
THE VALUE OF LAND IN ARGENTINA 45
REMARKS ON STORMS AND THE CLIMATE OF THE ARGENTINE 51
SOME EXPERIENCE OF WORKING ON ESTANCIAS 57
THE SOCIAL SIDE OF CAMP LIFE 69
CARNIVAL IN THE ARGENTINE 75
HORSE-RACING IN THE ARGENTINE 79
SUNDAYS IN CAMP 87
THE SERVANT PROBLEM IN ARGENTINA 91
POLICE OF A BYGONE DAY 97
A VISIT TO THE NORTHERN CHACO 107
WORK IN THE WOODS 119
CACHAPÉS, AND OTHER THINGS 125
MY FRIEND THE AXEMAN 131
DUST AND OTHER STORMS 141
LOCUSTS 147
CONSCRIPT LIFE IN THE ARGENTINE REPUBLIC 155
ACROSS THE BOLIVIAN ANDES IN 1901 161
PROGRESS OF THE PORT OF BUENOS AIRES 185
JUST MY LUCK! 193
"THE TACURU" 199
LIST OF PHOTOGRAPHS.
FACING PAGE
CATTLE TRAIN ON CENTRAL ARGENTINE RAILWAY,
BRINGING CATTLE TO BARRANCOSA 39
LOADING WHEAT AT ROSARIO FROM THE "BARRANCA" 40
SAN CRISTOBAL ESTANCIA HOUSE 41
WATERING-PLACE AT BARRANCOSA 42
WOOD ON THE COMPANY'S OWN LINE READY FOR LOADING 43
LOADING TIMBER AT WAYSIDE STATION 44
WHEAT READY FOR LOADING AT STATION ON CENTRAL
ARGENTINE RAILWAY 48
THE MAKER OF LAND VALUES 50
TENNIS PARTY AT VERA 73
CARNIVAL AT VERA 77
"A DAY OF REAL ENJOYMENT" 90
SQUARE QUEBRACHO LOGS WORKED BY THE AXEMAN, SHOWING
RESIN OOZING THEREFROM 134
LOADING WHEAT AT THE PORT OF BUENOS AIRES 187
HORSES AWAITING INSPECTION 209
STACKING ALFALFA 210
ALFALFA ELEVATOR AT WORK 211
THE GREEN FIELDS OF ALFALFA 212
HERD OF CATTLE 215
EXPANSE OF ALFALFA 221
DISC-PLOUGH AT WORK 222
ROADMAKER AND RAILROAD BUILDER 223
PLOUGHING VIRGIN CAMP 226
HART-PARR ENGINE, DRAWING ROADMAKER 228
CATTLE LEAVING DIP 233
CROSSING THE SALADO 240
THE EFFECT OF A LONG DROUGHT 241
REFINED CAMPS 242
"RICH BLACK ALLUVIAL SOIL" 251
WATER KNEE-DEEP 265
QUEBRACHO COLORADO TREE 266
SLEEPERS AWAITING TRANSPORT AT VERA 267
TANNIN EXTRACT FACTORY 268
SOME OF THE HORSES 271
"AWFUL FLOOD" 276
ON THE WAY TO OLMOS 277
LIST OF DIAGRAMS.
FACING PAGE
IMMIGRATION RETURNS 2
AGRICULTURAL EXPORTATION 14
CULTIVATED AREA IN HECTARES 15
VALUE IN £ STERLING OF THE TOTAL EXPORTS OF
ARGENTINA, 1900-09 22
ARGENTINA FROM A BRITISH POINT OF VIEW.
Argentina, which does not profess to be a manufacturing country,
exported in 1909 material grown on her own lands to the value of
£79,000,000, and imported goods to the extent of £60,000,000. This fact
arrests our attention, and forces us to recognise that there is a trade
balance of nearly 20 millions sterling in her favour, and to realise the
saving power of the country.
It is not mere curiosity which prompts us to ask: "Are these £79,000,000
worth of exports of any value to us? Do we consume any of them? Do we
manufacture any of them? And do we send any of this same stuff back
again after it has been dealt with by our British artisans?" It would be
difficult to follow definitely any one article, but upon broad lines the
questions are simple and can be easily answered. Amongst the
agricultural exports we find wheat, oats, maize, linseed, and flour. The
value placed upon these in 1908 amounted to £48,000,000, and England
pays for and consumes nearly 42 per cent. of these exports. Other goods,
such as frozen beef, chilled beef, mutton, pork, wool, and articles
which may be justly grouped as the results of the cattle and sheep
industry, amounted to no less a figure than £23,000,000. All these
exports represent foodstuffs or other necessities of life, and are
consumed by those nations which do not produce enough from their own
soil to keep their teeming populations. Another export which is worthy
of particular mention comes from the forests, viz., quebracho, which, in
the form of logs and extract, was exported in 1908 to the value of
£1,200,000. The value of material of all sorts sent from England to
Argentina in 1908 was £16,938,872 (this figure includes such things as
manufactured woollen goods, leather goods, oils, and paints), therefore
it is clear that we have, and must continue to take, a practical and
financial interest in the welfare and prosperity of Argentina.
New countries cannot get on without men willing and ready to exploit
Nature's gifts, and, naturally, we look to the immigration returns when
considering Argentina's progress. To give each year's return for the
last 50 years would be wearisome, but, taking the average figures for
ten-year periods from 1860 to 1909, we have the following interesting
table. (The figures represent the balance of those left in the country
after allowing for emigration):--
Yearly Average.
From 1860 to 1869 (inclusive) ... 15,044
" 1870 " 1879 " ... 29,462
" 1880 " 1889 " ... 84,586
" 1890 " 1899 " ... 43,618
" 1900 " 1909 " ... 100,998
Sixty-five per cent. of the immigrants are agricultural labourers, who
soon find work in the country, and again add their quota to the
increasing quantity and value of materials to be exported. Facing this
page is a diagram of the Immigration Returns from 1857 to 1909.
Nature has been lavish in her gifts to Argentina, and man has taken
great advantage of these gifts. My desire now is to show what has been
done in the way of developing agriculture in this richly-endowed country
during the last fifty years. One name which should never be forgotten in
Argentina is that of William Wheelwright, whose entrance into active
life in Buenos Aires was not particularly dignified; in 1826 he was
shipwrecked at the mouth of the River Plate, and struggled on
barefooted, hatless and starving to the small town of Quilmes.
[Illustration: DIAGRAM OF IMMIGRATION RETURNS.
NOTE:--IN THE YEARS 1888, 1889 & 1890 THE ARGENTINE GOVERNMENT ASSISTED
PASSAGES.]
Mr. Wheelwright was an earnest and far-seeing man, and his knowledge of
railways in the United States helped him to realise their great
possibilities in Argentina; but, strange to say, upon his return to his
native land he could not impress any of those men who afterwards became
such great "Railway Kings" in the U.S.A. Failing to obtain capital for
Argentine railway development in his own country, Wheelwright came to
England, and interested Thomas Brassey, whose name was then a household
word amongst railway pioneers. These two men associated themselves with
Messrs. Ogilvie & Wythes, forming themselves into the firm of Brassey,
Ogilvie, Wythes & Wheelwright, whose first work was the building of a
railway 17,480 kilometres long between Buenos Aires and Quilmes in 1863;
afterwards they built the line from Rosario to Cordova, which is
embodied to-day in the Central Argentine Railway. Other railways were
projected, and this policy of progress and extension of the steel road
still holds good in Argentina.
The year 1857 saw the first railway built, from Buenos Ayres to Flores,
5,879 kilometres long; in 1870 there were 457 miles of railroad; in 1880
the railways had increased their mileage to 1,572; in 1890 Argentina
possessed 5,895 miles of railway, and in 1900 there were 10,352 miles.
The rapid increase in railway mileage during the last nine years is as
follows:--
In 1901 there were 10,565 miles of railway.
" 1902 " " 10,868 " " "
" 1903 " " 11,500 " " "
" 1904 " " 12,140 " " "
" 1905 " " 12,370 " " "
" 1906 " " 12,850 " " "
" 1907 " " 13,829 " " "
" 1908 " " 14,825 " " "
" 1909 " " 15,937[A]" " "
12,000 of which are owned by English companies, representing a capital
investment of £170,000,000.
In other words, for the last forty years Argentina has built railways
at the rate of over a mile a day, and in 1907, 1908, and 1909 her
average rate per day was nearly three miles. This means that owing to
the extension of railways during this last year alone, over a million
more acres of land could have been given up to the plough if suitable
for the cultivation of corn.
When William Wheelwright first visited Argentina it was little more than
an unknown land, whose inhabitants had no ambition, and no desire to
acquire wealth--except at the expense of broken heads. There was a
standard of wealth, but it lay in the number of cattle owned; land was
of little value, save for feeding cattle, and therefore counted for
naught, but cattle could be boiled down for tallow; bones and hides were
also marketable commodities; the man, therefore, who possessed cattle
possessed wealth.
The opening out of the country by railways soon changed the aspect of
affairs. The man who possessed cattle was no longer considered the rich
man; it was he who owned leagues of land upon which wheat could be grown
who became the potentially rich man; he, by cutting up his land and
renting it to the immigrants, who were beginning to flock in in an
endless stream to the country, found that riches were being accumulated
for him without much exertion on his part. He took a risk inasmuch as he
received payment in kind only. Therefore, when the immigrants did well,
so did he, and as many thousands of immigrants have become rich, it
follows that the land proprietors have become immensely so. It was the
railways which created this possibility, and endowed the country by
rendering it practicable to grow corn where cattle only existed before,
but many Argentines to-day forget what they owe to the railway pioneers;
it is the railways, and the railways only, which render the splendid and
yearly increasing exports possible.
In 1858 cattle formed 25 per cent. of the total wealth of Argentina, but
in 1885 cattle only represented 18 per cent. of the total wealth,
railways having made it possible during those thirty years to utilise
lands for other purposes than cattle-feeding. Let it be clearly
understood, the total value of cattle had not decreased; far from that,
the cattle had increased in value during the above period to the extent
of £48,000,000, and to-day cattle, sheep, horses, mules, pigs, goats and
asses represent a value of nearly £130,000,000. The following table
shows how great the improvement has been in Argentine animals:--
Per Head.
Cattle in 1885 were valued at an average of $13[B]
" 1908 " " " 32
Sheep in 1885 " " " 2
" 1908 " " " 4
Horses in 1885 " " " 11
1908 " " " 25
Notwithstanding these increased valuations per head, and the larger
number of animals in the country, the value created by man's labour far
outweighs the increased value of mere breeding animals.
Next to the railways the improvements in shipping have helped the
development of Argentina; the shipping trade of Buenos Aires has
increased at the rate of one million tons per annum for the past few
years, and the entries into the port form an interesting and instructive
table:
The following statement gives the total tonnage that passed through the
port of Buenos Aires from 1880 to 1909, and will more clearly show the
increase and advance made in the last thirty years. These figures
include both steamers and sailing-vessels, and local as well as foreign
trade:--
Tons.
1880 ... 644,750
1881 ... 827,072
1882 ... 995,597
1883 ... 1,207,321
1884 ... 1,782,382
1885 ... 2,200,779
1886 ... 2,408,323
1887 ... 3,369,057
1888 ... 3,396,212
1889 ... 3,804,037
1890 ... 4,507,096
1891 ... 4,546,729
1892 ... 5,475,942
1893 ... 6,177,818
1894 ... 6,686,123
1895 ... 6,894,834
1896 ... 6,115,547
1897 ... 7,365,547
1898 ... 8,051,045
1899 ... 8,741,934
1900 ... 8,047,010
1901 ... 8,661,300
1902 ... 8,902,605
1903 ... 10,269,298
1904 ... 10,424,615
1905 ... 11,467,954
1906 ... 12,448,219
1907 ... 13,335,733
1908 ... 15,465,417
1909 ... 16,993,973
In 1897, out of the total number of steamers that entered Buenos Aires,
viz., 901, with a tonnage of 2,342,391; 519, with a tonnage of
1,327,571, were British. Taking the year 1909 we find that 2,008
steamers and 137 sailing-vessels entered the port of Buenos Aires from
foreign shores with a tonnage of 5,193,542, and 1,978 steamers and 129
sailing-vessels left the port for foreign shores with a tonnage of
5,174,114; out of these, British boats lead with 2,242 steamers and 37
sailing-vessels, or say 53-1/2 per cent. of the total. Germany comes
next with 456 steamers and 2 sailing-vessels, or say 10-3/4 per cent, of
the total. Italy with 307 steamers and 67 sailing-vessels is next, and
then France with 264 steamers. The total number of steamers that entered
and left the port from local and foreign ports is 13,485, with a tonnage
of 14,481,526, and 20,264 sailing-vessels with 2,512,447 tons, which
make up the amount of 16,993,973 tons, as shown above.
In the year 1884 the experiment of freezing beef, killed in Buenos
Aires, and shipping it to Europe was first tried. That was successful,
but an immense improvement was made when the process of chilling became
the common means by which meat could be exported. The frozen beef trade
in Argentina has had a wonderful development; it commenced in 1884, and
the export of chilled meat has progressed steadily at the rate of 25,000
beeves yearly, until, in 1908, it reached the enormous quantity of
573,946 beeves, or 180,000 tons. Frozen mutton has remained
comparatively steady, and has only increased by 38,000 tons in
twenty-two years, or from 2,000,000 sheep frozen in 1886 to 3,297,667 in
1908, whilst "jerked beef," which was mostly sent to Cuba and Brazil,
has fallen from 50,000 tons per annum to 6,651 tons. The value of frozen
and preserved meats exported in 1908 was £5,233,948.
The value of live-stock in Argentina in 1908 was made up as follows:--
Cattle ... ... ... £82,000,000
Sheep ... ... ... 25,000,000
Horses ... ... ... 18,000,000
Mules ... ... ... 2,000,000
Pigs ... ... ... 1,368,000
Goats and Asses ... 1,000,000
A few years ago it was common on an estancia feeding 50,000 or 60,000
cattle to find the household using canned Swiss milk. To-day 425,000
litres of milk are brought into the city of Buenos Aires each day for
consumption, and no less than two tons of butter, one ton of cream, and
three tons of cheese are used there daily. Argentina also exports
butter. This trade has sprung up entirely within the last fourteen
years, and in 1908 she exported 3,549 tons of butter, the value of which
was £283,973.
Until 1876 Argentina imported wheat for home consumption; in that year,
when for many years past agricultural labourers had been arriving at an
average of 25,000 per annum, she began to export wheat with a modest
shipment of 5,000 tons. Thirty years later the export had mounted up to
2,247,988 tons, and in 1908 the wheat exported amounted to 3,636,293
tons, and was valued at £25,768,520. Agricultural colonies had sprung up
everywhere, and cattle became of second-rate importance; to-day the
value of the exports of corn, which term includes wheat, barley, maize,
oats, etc., is more than double that of cattle and cattle products. It
is interesting to follow the evolution wrought by labour, intelligence,
and capital in the prairie lands of Argentina. First, let us note the
developments on those wonderful tracts of splendid prairie lands lying
between the River Plate and the Andes: fifty years ago these lands were
of little account, and only a few cattle were to be found roaming about
them, but upon the advance of the railway they came under the plough,
and, without much attention or care, produced wheat and maize. After a
time improvements in the method of cultivation produced a better return,
and to-day a great deal of attention is paid to the preparing of the
land, and thought and care are given to the seed time, the growing, and
the harvest. When it is found desirable to rest the land after crops of
wheat and maize, etc., alfalfa is grown thereon. Alfalfa is one of the
clover tribe, and has the peculiar property of attaching to itself those
micro-organisms which are able to fix the nitrogen in the air and render
it available for plant food. Every colonist knows the value of alfalfa
for feeding his animals, but it is not every colonist who knows why this
plant occupies such a high place amongst feeding stuffs. Alfalfa is
easily grown, very strong when established, and, provided its roots can
get to water, will go on growing for years. The _raison d'être_ for
growing alfalfa is for the feeding of cattle and preparing them for
market, and for this purpose a league of alfalfa (6,177 acres metric
measurement) will carry on an average 3,500 head. When grown for dry
fodder it produces three or four crops per annum and a fair yield is
from 6 to 8 tons per acre of dry alfalfa for each year. A ton of such
hay is worth about $20 to $30, and after deducting expenses there is a
clear return of about $14 per acre.
The figures supplied by one large company are interesting; they show
that, on an average, cattle, when placed upon alfalfa lands, improve in
value at the rate of $2.00 per head per month, so it is easy to place a
value on its feeding properties. Thus, we will take a camp under alfalfa
capable of carrying 10,000 head of cattle all the year round, where as
the fattened animals are sold off an equal number is bought to replace
them. Such a camp would bring in a clear profit of $200,000 per annum,
and the property should be worth £175,000 sterling. An animal that has
been kept all its life on rough camp, and, when too old for breeding, is
placed for the first time on alfalfa lands, fattens extremely quickly,
and the meat is tender and in quality compares favourably with any other
beef. No business in Argentina of the same importance has shown such
good returns as cattle breeding, and these results have been chiefly
brought about by the introduction of alfalfa, and a knowledge of the
life history of alfalfa is of the greatest importance to the cattle
farmer. All cereal crops take from the soil mineral matter and nitrogen.
Therefore, after continuous cropping the land becomes exhausted and
generally poorer; experience has taught us that rotation of crops is a
necessity to alleviate the strain on the soil, and such an axiom has
this become that in many cases English landlords insist that their
leases shall contain a clause binding the tenants to grow certain stated
crops in rotation.
This system is known in England as the four-course shift. Knowledge
gained by successive generations of observant farmers has given us the
key to what Nature had hitherto kept to herself, and to-day we know why
the plan adopted by our forefathers was right, and why the rotation of
crops was, and is, a necessity. Men of science are devoting their lives
to the systematic study of Nature's hidden secrets, and by means of
Agricultural Colleges, as well as private individual research, these
discoveries are being given to mankind, and long before the soils of
Argentina show any serious loss of nitrogen from continuous cropping,
science will probably have established means of applying in a practical
manner those methods already known of propagating the
nitrogen-collecting bacteria which thrive on alfalfa, clover, peas, soya
beans, and other leguminous plants. Almost every country is now devoting
time, money, and energy to agricultural research work. In 1908 the
Agricultural College at Ontario prepared no less than 474 packages of
Legume Bacteria, and in 309 cases beneficial results followed from the
application thereof to the soil; in 165 cases no improvements in the
crops were noticed, this may, however, have been due to the want of
knowledge of how to manipulate the bacteria, or to lack of experience in
noting effects scientifically, but in any case the experiment must be
considered successful when the results obtained were satisfactory in no
less than 65 per cent. of the trials. No greater factor exists than the
microscope in opening up and hunting out the secrets concealed in the
very soil we are standing on.
If soils were composed of nothing but pure silica sand, nothing would
ever grow; but in Nature we find that soils contain all sorts of mineral
matter, and chief amongst these is lime.
Alfalfa thrives on land which contains lime, and gives but poor results
where this ingredient is deficient. The explanation is simple. There is
a community of interest between the very low microscopic animal life,
known as bacteria, and plant life generally. In every ounce of soil
there are millions of these living germs which have their allotted work
to do, and they thrive best in soils containing lime.
If one digs up with great care a root of alfalfa (it need not be an old
plant, the youngest plant will show the same peculiarity), and care is
taken in exposing the root (perhaps the best method is the washing away
of the surrounding earth by water), some small nodules attached to the
fine, hair-like roots are easily distinguished by the naked eye, and
these nodules are the home of a teeming, microscopical, industrious
population, who perform their allotted work with the silent, persistent
energy so often displayed in Nature. Men of science have been able to
identify at least three classes of these bacteria, and to ascertain the
work accomplished by each. The reason for their existence would seem to
be that one class is able to convert the nitrogen in the air into
ammonia, whilst others work it into nitrite, and the third class so
manipulate it as to form a nitrate which is capable of being used for
plant food.
Now, although one ton of alfalfa removes from the soil 50 lb. of
nitrogen, yet that crop leaves the soil richer in nitrogen, because the
alfalfa has encouraged the multiplication of those factories which
convert some of the thousands of tons of nitrogen floating above the
earth into substance suitable for food for plant life. As a dry fodder
for cattle three tons of alfalfa contains as much nutrition as two tons
of wheat.
The cost of growing alfalfa greatly depends upon the situation of the
land to be dealt with; also upon whether labour is plentiful or not;
but, in order to give some idea of the advantage of growing this cattle
food, we will imagine the intrinsic value of the undeveloped land to be
£4,000, upon which, under existing conditions, it would be possible to
keep 1,000 head of animals, whereas if this same land were under alfalfa
3,000 to 3,500 animals would be fattened thereon, and the land would
have increased in value to £20,000 or £30,000.
Now, if the undeveloped land is to be improved, it becomes necessary
either to work it yourself, with your own men, in which case you must
provide ploughs, horses, bullocks, etc., or to carry out the plan
usually adopted, that of letting the land to colonists who have had some
experience in this class of work. Usually a colonist will undertake to
cultivate from 500 to 600 acres, and agrees to pay to the landowner
anything from 10 per cent. to 30 per cent. of his crops according to the
distance of the land from the railway. The colonist brings his
agricultural tackle along with him, and establishes his house (usually a
most primitive affair), digs his well, and then proceeds to plough. In
this work the whole family joins; the father leads the way, followed by
the eldest child, and all the others in rotation, with the wife bringing
up the rear; she keeps a maternal eye upon the little mite, who with
great gusto and terrific yells manages somehow to cling to the plough
and to do his or her share with the rest. Is it to be wondered at that
work progresses fast under these conditions? There is but one idea
prevalent in the family, namely, that time and opportunity are with
them.
The first crop grown on newly-broken ground is usually maize; the second
year's crop is linseed, and perhaps a third year's crop--probably
wheat--is grown by the colonist before the land is handed back to the
owner ready to be put down in alfalfa. The colonist's cultivation of the
land will have effectually killed off the natural rough grasses which
would otherwise grow up and choke the alfalfa. Sometimes the alfalfa is
sown with the colonist's last crop, and in such cases the landowner
finds the alfalfa seed, and during the sowing of this crop it is very
advisable that either he or his agent should be in constant attendance,
because the after results greatly depend upon the care with which the
seeding has been done. When the colonist's contract is completed he
moves on to another part, and the owner, who has year by year received a
percentage of the crops, takes back his land. Considerable outlay has
now to be made in fences, wells, and buildings; the more there are of
these the better, the land will carry a larger head of cattle and the
control of them is easy when the camp has been properly divided.
The colonists are generally Italians. They are an industrious and kindly
people, hardy and quiet, well content with their surroundings, careful
and frugal in their living, and many thousands could go back to their
own country with wealth which has been acquired by constant and
assiduous attention to the economies of life.
It has often been said that an Englishman will starve where an Italian
will thrive, and in some respects this is true; but it would be better
expressed if it were stated that an Italian can adapt himself to
circumstances better than an Englishman. At the same time, I doubt if an
Italian would come off best were the two placed on a desert island where
instantaneous action, grit, and endurance were called for.
Many things are said of an Englishman, and none fits his character
better than that which gives him the privilege of "grumbling," and this
characteristic becomes more marked when he is able to grumble with one
of his own kith and kin. I have heard Argentines praise Englishmen, who,
they say, manage their estancias far and away beyond all others, but at
the same time they have told me that they would never allow two
Englishmen on their place at once.
It has been said that many of the immigrants do not intend to settle in
the country. Probably this idea has gained ground on account of the
large numbers of the labouring population, who are attracted to
Argentina by the high wages ruling during the harvest time, and then
find it pays them to go home and secure the European harvest, but
generally these men come out again to stay. They have acquired a
knowledge of the country, and often enough have also acquired an
interest in some land, and they return, bringing their families, to
adopt Argentina as their home--for a period at least.
A glance at the statistics prepared by the authorities in Buenos Aires
shows that during the last fifty-two years 4,250,980 persons entered as
immigrants, and out of this number only 1,690,783 returned, leaving in
the country 2,560,197 individuals, or an average of 50,000 workers per
annum. These figures have become even more marked of recent years.
Taking the last five years, the country has received on an average
249,000 immigrants per annum; of these, 103,000 went back. In other
words, 727,670 have made their homes within the borders of Argentina
during the past five years, and of these at least 500,000 were
agriculturists.
It is not to be wondered at, then, that the exports, chiefly made up of
agricultural produce, have shown extraordinary progress. Facing this
page is a diagram showing the agricultural exportation from 1900 to
1908.
[Illustration: AGRICULTURAL EXPORTATION INCLUDING WHEAT, LINSEED, OATS,
MAIZE, ETC.]
[Illustration: CULTIVATED AREA IN HECTARES. (1 HECTARE = 2.471 ACRES)]
Nothing can be more eloquent than the figures shown in this diagram.
This remarkable progress, almost steady in its upward march, is not in
one direction only. Argentina is an ideal country for agriculturists,
and in every branch of that industry progress has been made. Greater
care is being taken to-day in working up the by-products of the cattle
business. More varied crops are being grown, and vegetable by-products
are being economically looked after. The forests of Argentina are also
being worked for the benefit of mankind. The Quebracho Colorado tree
forms a very important item of export. It is sent out of the country
either in the form of logs, of which no less than 254,571 tons were
exported in 1908, or in the form of an extract for tanning purposes;
48,162 tons of this extract were made and exported in 1908, and a small
quantity of the wood was exported in the shape of sawdust. The total
value of Quebracho Colorado exported in various forms in that year was,
as already stated, £1,200,000. This means that the Quebracho forests are
being depleted at the rate of half a million tons per annum for export
purposes alone, in addition to the enormous quantities used for
sleepers, etc., in the country.
The area in acres under cultivation for the year 1908 was 46,174,250, an
increase of 265 per cent, on the land under cultivation in the year
1895.
The diagram facing this page shows the area in hectares cultivated from
1897 to 1908:--
WHEAT--The area under cultivation for wheat shows an increase of 89 per
cent, in ten years from--
8,000,000 acres in cultivation in 1898, to
15,157,750 " " " " 1908
LINSEED--shows an increase of 361 per cent, from--
831,972 acres in cultivation in 1898, to
3,835,750 " " " " 1908
MAIZE--increased by 250 per cent., and other crops, including Oats, 300
per cent. in the same period.
The United Kingdom purchased from Argentina and retained for its own use
(in round figures) during the year 1908--
WHEAT to the value of £13,000,000
MAIZE " " 5,600,000
FROZEN MEAT " " 9,300,000
-----------
Making a total of £27,900,000
-----------
Indeed, we buy from Argentina nearly 25 per cent. of our total food
purchased abroad, and she supplies nearly 29 per cent. of our corn and
grain requirements. These figures again clearly demonstrate that we have
a vital interest in the well-being of our friends across the sea.
In every direction Argentina has progressed, and judging from the past
we may look with confidence to the future; the total area of the
Republic is 776,064,000 acres, and certainly it is within the bounds of
reasonable forecast to consider that 100,000,000 acres of this land will
be, when opened up by railways, and other facilities, available for
corn-growing. To-day only one-fifth of this available area is being
cultivated, and another 43,000,000 acres are being utilised for feeding
purposes; thus, only 63,000,000 out of 776,000,000 acres are being
occupied. The chief reason why more is not utilised is because there is
not sufficient labour available.
Argentina has 5 inhabitants per square mile.
Russia " 18 " "
Canada, Newfoundland, etc. " 1-1/2 " "
Australia " 1-1/3 " "
U. Kingdom " 364 " "
Belgium " 625 " "
Germany " 290 " "
Not only is there an enormous tract of land lying dormant, but the
productive power of land now under cultivation may be vastly increased
if farmers will devote their attention to improving the conditions of
cultivation. 11.3 bushels of wheat per acre is not high-class farming,
yet this is the average production for Argentina. Manitoba in 1908
produced 13-1/2 bushels per acre, Saskatchewan, 17 bushels. In the
fourteenth century England only produced 10 bushels per acre, but we
have improved this yield to 30 bushels, while Roumania has increased her
yield from 15 bushels per acre in 1890, to 23 bushels in 1908. France
has increased her yield from 17 bushels in 1884, to 20 bushels in 1908.
Germany has increased her yield per acre from 20 bushels in 1899, to 30
bushels in 1908. So that we may not only look forward to a greater area
being placed under cultivation, but we may reasonably expect heavier
crops, if land proprietors will bring science to bear on their work of
development. Indeed, with land rising in price, with an increasing
influx of immigrants, and with more intelligent cultivation of the soil,
the land must of necessity give a far larger yield than it has done
heretofore.
The following tables, taken from the Board of Trade returns, show from
whence England draws some of her supplies. They also show how
prominently Argentina figures as a food producer. The first table
includes corn and meat; the second gives corn alone, and the third meat
alone:--
FOOD IMPORTED INTO AND RETAINED BY THE UNITED KINGDOM IN 1908.
CORN (including wheat, barley, oats, rye,
buckwheat, peas, beans, maize, wheatmeal,
flour, oatmeal, and offals) £71,103,487
MEAT, fresh and frozen (including animals
for food) 48,704,613
Total £119,808,100
Of this--
£ Per Cent.
Argentina supplied 29,569,773 or 24.68
U.S.A. supplied 38,229,135 or 31.90
Russia supplied 7,394,607 or 6.18
Canada supplied 11,907,203 or 9.94
Australia (including
Tasmania) supplied 4,520,244 or 3.77
Other Colonies and Foreign
Countries supplied 28,187,138 or 23.53
£119,808,100 or 100.00
* * * * *
CORN IMPORTED INTO AND RETAINED BY THE UNITED KINGDOM IN 1908.
Argentina. U.S.A. Russia. Canada. Australia
(including
Tasmania).
£ £ £ £ £
Wheat ... ... | 13,096,812 10,779,221 2,286,180 6,335,329 2,402,988
|
Barley ... ... | 22,943 733,446 2,622,005 205,697 --
|
Oats ... ... | 1,463,368 -- 1,144,387 6,441 --
|
Rye ... ... | -- 129,691 93,066 49,009 --
|
Buckwheat ... ... | -- -- 6,677 -- --
|
Peas ... ... | -- 38,545 42,279 105,495 2,345
|
Beans (not fresh, |
other than Haricot|
Beans) ... ... | -- -- 15,094 -- --
|
Maize ... ... | 5,603,463 2,023,576 1,107,858 44,822 --
|
Wheatmeal |
and Flour ... | 50,597 5,407,119 80 809,479 119,440
|
Oatmeal and |
Rolled Oats ... | -- 183,334 -- 207,516 --
|
Farinaceous sub- |
stances (except |
Starch, Farina, |
Dextrine, and |
Potato Flour) | -- 99,112 -- 59,302 --
|
Bran and Pollard | 11,932 -- -- -- --
|
Sharps and |
Middlings | 35,113 -- -- -- --
|
Maize Meal | -- 129,543 -- -- --
----+-----------+------------+-----------+-----------+-----------
£ 20,284,228 | 19,523,587 | 7,317,626 | 7,823,090 | 2,524,773
----------------+------------+-----------+-----------+-----------
Percentage 28.53% | 27.46% | 10.29% | 11.00% | 3.56%
----------------+------------+-----------+-----------+-----------
* * * * *
Other
Colonies and
Foreign Total.
Countries.
£ £
13,630,183[C] 71,103,487
---------------+-------------+
13,630,183 | 71,103,487 |
---------------+-------------+
19.16% | = 100% |
---------------+-------------+
* * * * *
MEAT, including animals for food, and fresh, chilled, frozen and tinned,
imported into and retained by the United Kingdom in 1908:
£ Per Cent.
Argentina supplied 9,285,545 or 19.07
U.S.A. " 18,705,548 " 38.41
Russia " 76,981 " 0.16
Canada " 4,084,113 " 8.38
Australia (including Tasmania)
supplied 1,995,471 " 4.10
Other Colonies and Foreign
Countries supplied[D] 14,556,955 " 29.88
48,704,613 " 100.00
The lesson shown here is one worthy of attention. We see that Argentina
supplies England with one-fourth of her imported food, and U.S.A.
supplies nearly one-third. Therefore it behoves both England and
Argentina to see that America does not so manipulate things that she
acquires the control over our meat and food supplies.
Argentine authorities should not only exercise the law sanctioned
February 4th, 1907, concerning the inspection of factories, but they
should enforce greater care in seeing that all Argentine saladeros and
packing-houses are manipulated with intense care, and cleanliness should
be insisted upon; it would be a bad day for Argentina should ever such
an outcry be raised against her saladeros as that which a few years ago
was directed against the North American packing houses and for a time
ruined the canning industry of the United States, and yet we find
American methods being introduced into Argentina without let or
hindrance. If our soldiers and sailors are to be fed upon canned meats,
let those who are responsible for purchasing the food, at least see that
the food is prepared under healthy and sanitary conditions.
The corn-growing industry of the Argentine Republic is an intensely
interesting subject. Before railways and steamships brought the foreign
producer into close competition with our own farmers, Argentina did not
produce enough grain to supply her home consumption, and cattle were
bred only for their hides, tallow and bones. In the course of time, when
steamers superseded sailing-ships and the world's carrying capacity
thus became enormously increased, Argentina saw her opportunity of
becoming a keen competitor in the food market. Corn-growing became a
highly remunerative business, although much still remains to be learned
concerning the handling of wheat. Both in the States and Canada grain is
handled in a cheaper and more expeditious manner than in Argentina. An
enormous amount of grain is dealt with in the Wheat Exchange of
Winnipeg, but a further big impetus will be given to this industry when
the wheat-fields of Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba are connected
with a deep-sea port on Hudson Bay; this will be an accomplished fact in
1915, and as this route means a thousand miles less haulage by land, and
eight hundred less by sea to the chief European ports than by any
existing route, it is bound to become the popular one; the chief factor,
however, in making it a useful wheat outlet is the established fact that
Hudson Bay, although many miles north of Lake Superior, remains free
from ice for a period of one month after Lake Superior is tightly frozen
up.
Argentina may look forward to keen competition with Canada and Siberia
for many years to come; on the other hand, the U.S.A. will steadily show
a smaller quantity of wheat available for exportation, and the following
table throws some light upon the wheat position:--
Argentina and Uruguay have increased
the area of their wheat-growing
land brought under the plough in
the last ten years by 124 per cent.
Canada in the last ten years by 120 per cent.
Russia in the last ten years by 27 per cent.
United States in the last ten years by 14 per cent.
No country in the world has shown such wonderful capabilities for
growing linseed as the Argentine, and her average production for the
following five-year periods show this expansion:--
Years. Production in Tons.
1894-1898 193,000
1899-1903 382,000
1904-1908 839,000
In ten years she increased her production by 335 per cent. In the same
period India increased her production by 3.8 per cent., and North
America by 105 per cent., whilst Russia was unable to keep up her
supply.
The world's total linseed production for 1908 was made up as follows:--
Argentina produced 1,101,000 tons.
North America produced 694,000 tons.
Russia produced 470,000 tons.
India produced 360,000 tons.
Here again we find Argentina leading. Moreover, she exported nearly the
whole of her production, whilst North America, Russia, and India
exported less than half a million tons between them.
It is more than probable that by 1920 Argentina will be able to export,
as the result of agricultural work, more than £100,000,000 worth of
produce per annum. It is interesting to note that, as the present
figures reveal, allowing for a population of 6,500,000 and an
agricultural produce export of £48,335,432, each individual in Argentina
has sent abroad, after producing enough from the land to keep himself,
goods to the value of nearly £8.
The diagram facing this page shows what has been accomplished by
Argentina in the last ten years.
[Illustration: DIAGRAM OF VALUE IN £ STERLING OF THE TOTAL EXPORTS OF
ARGENTINA 1900-1909.]
In actual money value the exportation of wheat, linseed, oats, maize,
other grain, flour, bran, and middlings is, in round figures, as
follows:--
1900 £15,485,000
1901 14,319,000
1902 13,634,000
1903 21,050,000
1904 30,065,000
1905 34,047,000
1906 31,530,000
1907 32,818,000
1908 48,335,000
1909 46,100,000
CATTLE.
The value derived from the cattle industry and its allied produce is of
great importance to the Argentine Republic. The exports from this
industry may be divided into four heads, namely:--
LIVE ANIMALS;
RAW PRODUCTS;
MANUFACTURED OR PARTLY MANUFACTURED MATERIAL AND BY-PRODUCTS.
Since the closing of English ports in 1901 to the importation of live
cattle from Argentina, the trade in the export of live stock has fallen
off considerably; the total value did not in 1908 amount to more than
£568,966; Belgium took 65,224 sheep, Chili took 45,114 cattle and 14,394
sheep, Bolivia took 3,383 head of cattle and 10,676 sheep, and 16,000
asses and mules, while horses were imported into England, Africa,
Portugal, Brazil, Uruguay, Chili, Bolivia, and Paraguay.
Exports of raw products, which include frozen and chilled beef and
mutton, hides, sheepskins, wool, and such things as horsehair, tallow,
jerked beef, etc., represented a value of £19,549,231 in 1908.
Manufactured or partly manufactured material, including prepared tallow,
meat extracts, meat, butter, cheese, lard, dressed leather, etc.,
represented £2,454,760, whilst the by-products, including bones, dried
blood, guano, waste fats, etc., were valued at £430,734. Thus,
Argentina's total export from the cattle industry (after supplying her
own needs) was over £23,000,000.
Argentina's live stock on hand when the last census was taken in May,
1908, was as follows:--
Cattle ... ... ... 29,116,625
Sheep ... ... ... 67,211,758
Horses ... ... ... 7,531,376
Mules, swine,
goats, and asses 6,098,802
representing in value £129,369,628.
The favourite breed of cattle is the Shorthorn, and they comprise 84 per
cent, of the classified breeding cows; the Herefords only figure out as
6 per cent., but, undoubtedly, a more careful and complete
classification will lead to modifications in these figures, for at the
present time no less than five and a-half million cows are returned as
Criollo cattle, in other words, unimproved stock.
Not until the year 1885, when it became possible to send frozen meat to
Europe, did estancieros pay serious attention to growing cattle for meat
production, and now, with an ever-increasing quantity of land being
placed under alfalfa, the Argentine Republic is fast becoming the
leading factor in the production of meat to satisfy the world's
consumption.
Cattle on the outside fringe of occupied lands are still very coarse and
rough, with a distinct strain of the Hereford about them; they are,
however, a useful herd and most suitable for the districts they occupy,
where they often have to undergo the hardships of shortage of pasture
owing to drought, and little or no water, indeed, it is a marvel how
these animals exist at times; and assuredly no refined breed of cattle
could live where the Criollos not only manage to thrive, but generally
to return a satisfactory result to their owners. The cattle on ranches
which are nearer to the seaports, manufacturing centres, or railway
stations show distinct improvements. Greater care is bestowed upon them,
and the main consideration is never lost sight of--it is the ambition of
every estanciero to have his cattle graded up so that they are looked
upon as "freezers," which means that they are good enough to be
purchased by one or other of the refrigerating companies, who take
nothing but the best.
In 1888 cattle running the northern camps (which then represented the
extreme outlying posts) were only valued at $6 per head.
In 1890 the value had risen to $10 per head.
" 1900 " " " 15 "
" 1908 " " " 28 "
" 1910 " " " 40 "
The question of stock raising and the object to be obtained must rest
with the owners: they must decide whether the land is to be utilised for
fattening cattle or for breeding the high-class animals for which there
is an ever-ready market. To show the enormous value of animals and the
high standard to which agricultural lands can be brought, mention must
be made of two estancias near Buenos Aires, viz., those belonging to
Messrs. Cobo and Messrs. Bell, where splendid stock is always to be
found. To give some idea of the high price paid for first-class pedigree
animals, it may be mentioned that £3,800 was paid for a prize Durham
bull which was sold to Argentina!
At the cattle show at Buenos Aires held in July, 1910, Herefords for
killing realized from £850 to £1,000 per animal! These latter high
prices were, however, evidently paid by the agents of Cold Storage
Companies for advertising purposes. One representative explained that
the freezing Companies desired to encourage breeders, and that his
Company paid the high prices mentioned above so as to let the breeders
know that they would always be paid high prices for first-class cattle.
When we consider the really important position which Argentina takes as
a food producer, it appears incredible that the English nation (business
men and the general public alike) is so extremely ignorant, as a rule,
of prevailing conditions. I do not refer to those who have invested
their money in the many channels known to the River Plate circle. But
men holding high official positions speak of our commercial interests in
Argentina as "something between a hundred and a hundred and fifty
millions," and then in a whispered side-speech indicate the dangers of
revolution.
Often it is suggested that the chances of death from small-pox, yellow
fever, and even from murder are a serious drawback to what might
otherwise be a country possible to live in. It makes one very indignant
to hear these statements from the lips of those who probably have never
left their own country. Let me assure you they may be swept aside, and
were it not for their frequent reiteration it would be unnecessary to
say that there is not one grain of truth in these suggestions as applied
to the state of things to-day.
Nearly one-fifth of the population of Argentina is centred in and around
Buenos Aires. It is a city of 1,200,000 inhabitants, many of whom are
millionaires; but at the same time there exists much poverty within its
precincts--poverty caused in no small degree by the viciousness of the
rich, but to a far greater extent by the rooted objection of certain
classes to go out to the camps where, during the harvest time at least,
wages are high and labour is anxiously awaited.
When we compare the health of this city of Buenos Aires with that of
other large cities, we can see what has been done in the way of
improvements in the last few years. A glance at the following tables
will give some idea of what has been accomplished. The natural increase
of the population of Buenos Aires between 1898 and 1907 was 19.1 per
1,000, and no other city equals this.
The increase in London was 8.8 per 1,000.
" Berlin " 8.5 "
" New York " 5.7 "
" St. Petersburg " 4.6 "
The birth-rate of Buenos Aires for 1908 was 34.3 per 1,000.
" " London " 25.7
" " Berlin " 23.3
" " New York " 28.5
" " St. Petersburg " 27.5
Both these tables are, however, probably affected by the great number of
immigrants finding their way to Argentina, many of whom remain in Buenos
Aires.
The health of the City may be well gauged by the death-rate for the year
1907.
Buenos Aires stands well with 15.2 per 1,000 inhabitants.
London has a death-rate of 15.1 " "
Berlin " " 14.8 " "
New York " " 18.6 " "
St. Petersburg " 25.7 " "
(Undoubtedly the high rate shown by the last-named city is greatly due
to the foul condition of the Neva.)
To appreciate thoroughly the position which Buenos Aires now holds, and
the strides which have been made in regard to the sanitation of the
City, we have but to look at the past. Between the years 1889 and 1898
the death-rate per thousand was as high as 22.9 per 1,000; from 1899 to
1908 it was only 16.6, and now the record stands at 15.2 per 1,000.
The authorities are justly proud of what has been done, and will not
diminish their efforts so long as there is work to do and problems to
solve.
I should like to state once more the fact that the United Kingdom
depends upon Argentina for nearly one-fourth of her food supply
purchased abroad. I want to impress upon your mind the seriousness of
the position, for this proportion of one-fourth will be largely
increased in the near future, for reasons already stated.
The question has often been asked, "Is it safe to buy land in
Argentina?" But the drift of this query too often is merely
self-interest; in other words, it really means "Can I successfully
speculate in land?" Clearly the matter is solely a personal one, no
other consideration is thought of, so one is tempted to give an evasive
answer. Should the questioner, however, be a young fellow, with God's
gift of health and plenty of truth and grit in him, who wants not only
to acquire the land, but to work it, then, indeed, there is but one
answer, and that is in the affirmative--let him go, and let him ever
remember that he is an Englishman and that England is judged by the
conduct of her sons: but do not let him make the great mistake a
newcomer so often falls into, which is, that because he is an Englishman
all other nationalities must be inferior, and that by some sort of
divine right he has been created lord of all. Let him realise that those
whom he meets in Argentina are as noble and pure as those he left at
home. Argentina offers to-day a splendid opening for the best of
England's sons, but she does not want the loafer nor the ne'er-do-well.
Can it be wondered at that England's prestige is seriously injured when
so many of the "wasters," and worse, are sent from the country? It is
but natural that from these, who go to foreign countries, England is
judged. To my mind we should send abroad men who are bound to succeed,
men who never forget that from their behaviour the Mother Country will
be appraised. Argentina will embrace and reward them, but she will spurn
and despise the dissolute and drunken.
The advice I would give to all those thinking of trying Argentina as a
field for agricultural work is to remember that to be successful one
must begin at the bottom, the harder the school the better will be the
result: you cannot detect and correct the faults which militate against
success unless you have been through the mill. Not long ago I sent a boy
out to Argentina and painted the first two years of learning in the new
country in rather lurid colours. I explained and dwelt on the
hardships--indeed, I described it as "a dog's life." Within a year, the
lad wrote home to his parents and mentioned all that I had told him, but
finished up by saying, "There's plenty of 'life' about it, but not much
'dog.'" The truth is that the boy had accepted things as they came along
and had adapted himself to his surroundings, and, I predict, he will
never regret having left his home, where opportunities were cramped by
small surroundings, for the wider field of Argentina.
A great many Englishmen resident in Argentina, whose sons are looking
forward to finding their life's work in that country, send their boys
home to England to be educated. Far be it from me to deprecate the
training acquired by English public school life, but it might well be
worth while to consider the other phase. The boy who has had his
schooling in Argentina and goes through his training and passes into one
of their Universities will have to his credit something which cannot be
bought by money or influence by boys straight out from home. He will
have been a fellow student, and worked shoulder to shoulder with men who
will in due time occupy positions of power and influence, and it is just
as well to weigh out these things before deciding where to educate your
boy. A boy born in Argentina, whatever the nationality of his parents
may be, is by Argentine law an Argentine subject, and should be brought
up to appreciate that he is liable to be called upon to go through a
military course: the Argentine boy, who has had just as gentle an
upbringing as the English boy, is compelled to serve his time in the
army if called upon, and generally the discipline engendered by this
training has not only been good for him, but is a distinctly valuable
asset to the country, and the English boy, as well as a boy of any other
parentage born in the country, will be obliged to go through this
military training if required.
I venture to think that were England to adopt compulsory military
service in some shape or form, we should hear a great deal less of the
unemployed and "don't-want-work" demonstrations.
To attempt to give a picture of Argentine life is impossible in the
short time at my disposal. Imagine to yourself, if you can, a country of
1,212,600 square miles whose borders extend from well within the Tropics
to away down south to the everlasting snows, embracing all kinds of
lands, from the very richest of soils to ice-capped and rocky peaks, and
you must admit that to attempt to describe the various conditions of
life therein is wellnigh impossible. Life is much what the surrounding
conditions make it--on the extreme edge of cultivation it is distinctly
rough, on the inner camps refinement steps in, and in the cities you
will find just what society you wish. Amongst the cosmopolitan
population of Buenos Aires there are many men and women of the highest
culture and education.
There are many Argentines, who stand out prominently from the throng of
busy pleasure-seekers, who are devoting their lives to improving the
surroundings of those less fortunate fellow-creatures who have fallen
upon the thorny path, and whose portion is often the cup of bitterness.
Indeed, I have ever found the Argentine desirous of helping those who
seek advice and assistance; but he spurns the foreigner who degrades
himself and his country by acts of folly which would not be permitted in
his native land.
Englishmen often fall into the great error of keeping themselves to
themselves. Possibly this trait is engendered from birth and training by
our insular position, but it is a great pity to carry it too far, for
the Argentine people do appreciate the thoroughness of our countrymen,
and are ready to welcome the right sort. We have taught the Argentines
many of our national sports and games, and they have entered into them
with such thoroughness that the teachers have often had to admit that
the pupil has proved better than the master.
Travelling has become an integral part of the education of the Argentine
family to-day, and it is quite general to find young children speaking
fluently four or five languages.
I could wish that those who have Argentine friends would insist upon
their seeing, when in this country, some of the Englishman's home
surroundings, for hotel life, theatres, dinners, and music-halls are all
very well in their way, but to see the real inwardness of English life
you must follow the Englishman to his country home. My experience is
that the Argentine will always refuse an invitation to your home at
first, because of the trouble which he believes you will be put to, but
don't take "no" for an answer; simply make him come, and he will thank
you afterwards for his experience of English home life.
Just a word or two, for fear I have left an impression that Argentina is
the El Dorado which lies beyond the seas. There are such things as
locusts, floods, droughts, and frosts in that country.
The first of these--locusts--are indeed a plague which to-day it seems
almost impossible to annihilate, for I have little faith in man's
attempts effectually to stop or decrease this pestilence; on the other
hand, Nature always seems to be on the alert to prevent an overthrow of
the balance of things. Those who have spent their lives in the River
Plate district have seen this appalling plague crushed by means which
Nature, in her own good time, has thought fit to use.
With regard to floods and droughts, these can, at least, be modified by
men, and means are now being adopted to conserve the floods and render
their waters available in time of drought.
From frosts we seem powerless to defend ourselves, and it is only those
whose work is in close touch with the growing and handling of crops who
can fully appreciate the damage done by late frosts.
No country is free from drawbacks of some sort or another, and these
troubles which I have just mentioned will not prevent the forward march
of progress in Argentina.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] These figures are approximate
[B] The dollar referred to throughout this paper is the Argentine paper
dollar, which since 1899 has had a fixed value, and is worth
approximately 1s. 9d. Previous to that date its value fluctuated
considerably.
[C] A list of the other Colonies and Foreign Countries which largely
contributed to this total will be found on the following page.
[D] The other colonies and foreign countries which largely contributed
to the totals mentioned are as follows:--
DENMARK--Barley £22,708 Meat 5,988,573
ROUMANIA--Corn, etc. £2,564,538 Meat nil.
TURKEY (including CRETE)--Corn, etc £1,383,971 Meat nil.
TURKEY, ASIATIC--Corn, etc. £1,344,322 Meat nil.
CHILI--Corn, etc £1,099,660 Meat 10,682
BRITISH INDIA--Corn, etc £2,226,668 Meat nil.
NEW ZEALAND--Corn, etc £30,585 Meat 4,168,649
HISTORY OF THE SANTA FÉ LAND COMPANY, LIMITED.
In the years 1881 and 1882, Messrs. C. de Murrieta & Co. acquired a
block of land from the Government of the Province of Santa Fé, and in
December, 1882, sold one undivided half-share thereof to Messrs. Kohn,
Reinach & Co. Messrs. Murrieta & Co. and Messrs. Kohn, Reinach & Co.,
having decided to develop the said lands, formed the Santa Fé Land
Company, and the prospectus appeared in July, 1883.
The area sold to the new Company was said to comprise about 650 Spanish
leagues, or 4,336,150 English acres, and the price to be paid to the
vendors was £1,050 per league.
In order to provide a port of shipment on the Rio Parana the Company
bought a further lot of 323 acres in the Colony of Romang.
In addition to the original block of land, the Company has since bought
the following areas:--
The estancia of La Barrancosa, 10,801 hectareas, say 26,678
The estancia of Santa Catalina, 4,049 hectareas, say 10,002
A strip of land at Guaycuru on the eastern boundary
of the Company's forest lands, 1,636 hectareas, say 4,041
A piece of land at Venado Tuerto, 37 hectareas, say 91
A piece of land at Arrufo, 100 hectareas, say 247
A piece of land at Tostado, 50 hectareas, say 123
41,182
Since the beginning of the Company the total area of land sold has
amounted to 709,549 acres (up to 30th June, 1910). It is calculated
that the land comprised in the Bazan claim, to which reference is made
later on, measures 582,914 acres. Upon this supposition the Company now
owns 3,044,100 acres.
The original price paid for the Company's lands worked out at about 3s.
an acre.
The original capital of the Company was £875,000, of which over £675,566
was paid to the vendors, leaving a balance of £199,434 to meet the
preliminary expenses and the initial cost of opening up the new
properties. After some years it was found necessary to write off a
portion of the capital, and accordingly, in 1897, the Company's lands
were re-valued at approximately 2s. 9d. an acre.
The present Directors of the Company are:--
Mr. CAMPBELL P. OGILVIE (_Chairman_).
Mr. IVOR BEVAN.
Mr. GORDON H. BROWN.
LORD HAWKE.
Mr. LOUIS H. KIEK.
Mr. T.E. PRESTON.
Capt. The Hon. F.C. STANLEY.
The London Office is at 779, Salisbury House, Finsbury Circus, London,
E.C., and the Secretary of the Company is Mr. David Simpson. The Head
Office in the Argentine is at 761, Avenida de Mayo, Buenos Aires, and
the following are the principal officers of the Company in Argentina:--
Mr. HUGH M. RATTRAY (_General Manager_).
Mr. W.B. WHIGHAM (_Manager of the Cattle
and Lands Department at Sun Cristobal_).
Mr. R.N. LAND (_Manager at Santa Catalina_).
Mr. T. SCOTT ROBSON (_Manager at La Barrancosa_).
Mr. G.L.C. GITTINS (_Acting Manager of the Woods Department_).
SHARE CAPITAL.
The original shares of the Company were £10 each. It was decided in 1897
to reduce them to £7 fully paid, which placed the capital at £612,500.
Shortly afterwards each £7 share was converted into seven shares of £1
each.
In 1906 the shareholders authorised the creation of £200,000 of fresh
capital, which was issued to them in two blocks of £154,000 in 1906 and
£46,000 in 1907.
Fresh capital was authorised in 1908, viz., £187,500, of which £161,608
was issued in 1909, and further lots have since been issued, bringing
the total amount of authorised capital to £1,000,000, and of issued
capital at 30th June, 1910, to £982,347.
An issue of £50,000 Six per Cent. Debentures was made in January, 1904;
and the whole amount was redeemed on the 1st July, 1909.
BAZAN LANDS.
Part of the area sold to the Company consisted of a block of
approximately 88 Spanish leagues, or 530,000 English acres, which became
the subject of negotiations and lawsuits between this Company, the
Provincial Government of Santa Fé, and other parties, lasting for more
than twenty-five years. The area in question lay to the West of the Rio
Salado, and, at the time when this Company was formed, was supposed to
be included in the Province of Santa Fé. Soon afterwards the Province of
Santiago del Estero put forward a claim to the lands on the ground that
the boundaries of that Province extended eastwards to the Rio Salado,
and it therefore disputed the right of the Province of Santa Fé to sell
the lands to Messrs. Murrieta & Co. in 1882.
By an Agreement with the Government of the Province of Santa Fé, the
Santa Fé Land Company took proceedings in the Supreme Courts of the
Province to establish its rights to the land in dispute on the
understanding that if the Company failed to establish its claim, the
Government of the Province of Santa Fé would indemnify it for its loss.
In the result the Company was evicted from the lands, and entered into
negotiations with the Government of the Province of Santa Fé for
indemnification. These negotiations went on for some years without
coming to any practical conclusion, and at last the Company commenced a
lawsuit against the Province and won it. After further delays and
negotiations the Government agreed to issue bonds in respect of the
Company's claim, and, in July, 1909, the Company agreed to accept
$3,212,000 paper Bonds of the Province, carrying interest at 3-1/2 per
cent., with an amortisation of 1/2 per cent., the coupons being
available for payment of land tax. The Government further undertook to
ratify the original titles of the Company, and to make a survey at the
joint expense of both parties, for the purpose of ascertaining the exact
area comprised in the original transfer. Any lands found to be in excess
were to be paid for by the Company to the Government at the rate of
$13.50, paper, per hectarea (about 8s. an acre). The price of such
excess lands was to be recouped by the Government from the Bonds issued
to the Company, and the Government retained $712,000 Bonds for this
purpose, pending the result of the survey.
[Illustration: _Cattle Train on Central Argentine Railway, bringing
Cattle to Barrancosa._]
RAILWAY COMMUNICATION.
At the time of the formation of the Company, the nearest railway was
that belonging to the Central Argentine Railway, and the nearest
railway station was Rosario, but some years later, the lines now
belonging to the French Railway Company of the Province of Santa Fé were
laid between Santa Fé and San Cristobal. Subsequently the Central Norte
Railway, which stretches northwards from San Cristobal to Tucuman, was
built by the National Government, and in 1907, the National Government
built a line from Santa Fé to San Cristobal _via_ San Justo.
The Company have built a railway from a point north of Vera running into
their forests, and extend it from time to time as the development of the
wood industry demands. They further own a line from Margarita to La
Gallareta, where the extract factory of the Compania Tanin de Santa Fé
is situated. The Company propose to build a railway from San Cristobal
to penetrate to their northern properties, and have applied to the
Argentine National Government for a railway concession in connection
therewith.
ADMINISTRATION.
After various changes of centre the administration offices of the
Company were, in the year 1902, divided between San Cristobal for the
cattle and lands department, and Vera for the woods department, but, in
1906, the woods department was placed under the supervision of the
General Manager of the Company, who lived at San Cristobal, and, in
1908, the central offices were moved from San Cristobal to Buenos Aires.
Through the latter office all the work of the Company in Argentina
passes on to the London office, the managers at San Cristobal, Vera,
Santa Catalina, and La Barrancosa, having to concern themselves only
with the technical and administrative work carried on under them
respectively.
COMPANY'S BUSINESS.
The Company's business has been mainly divided into three branches,
viz.: (1) land sales and rentals; (2) cattle industry, and (3) timber
trade.
The first two branches are conducted from San Cristobal, situated at the
S.W. corner of the Company's original lands, and for many years the site
of the central offices of the Company in Argentina, whilst the timber
trade is conducted from Vera.
SAN CRISTOBAL DEPARTMENT.
A township was started at San Cristobal in 1884, and now numbers 4,500
persons.
The Administration House and other buildings for the use of the General
Manager and Staff of the Cattle and Lands Department were erected about
three miles from the town, and the whole now forms a large and handsome
establishment, equipped with the most modern requisites for carrying on
the work of the estancia.
The cattle lands have been divided up into sections, which are managed
by officials of the Company, under the control of the administration at
San Cristobal. The office there and the offices on the various sections
have recently been connected up by telephone. These sections are
Polvareda, Michelot, Los Moyes, and Lucero (which lie to the North and
North-East of San Cristobal), and Las Chuñas, which forms the
North-Western corner of the Company's lands.
[Illustration: _Loading Wheat at Rosario from the "Barranca."_]
[Illustration: _San Cristobal Estancia House._]
SANTA CATALINA AND LA BARRANCOSA.
In January, 1897, the Company rented the estancia of Santa Catalina,
which is situated about five miles from Los Cardos on the Central
Argentine Railway and about 150 miles South of San Cristobal. Here the
stock which was brought down from San Cristobal was fattened before
passing on to the markets. At the same time the Company continued the
sowing of alfalfa which had been begun by the proprietor, and ultimately
decided to buy the camp and use it as an establishment for breeding fine
stock. The terms of the purchase were that the price should be paid by
way of an annuity, payable during the joint lifetime of the owner and
his wife. In 1909 this method of payment was compounded and satisfied in
full by an allotment of shares of the Company.
The practice has been that the male calves born on this estancia should
be sent North to the general herds kept at San Cristobal and the
adjoining sections, and that the progeny of these animals should in turn
be sold as fat cattle.
To facilitate this business the Company found it necessary to acquire a
camp specially adapted for fattening purposes in the Southern part of
the Province, so that they might be brought into closer touch with the
markets of Rosario and Buenos Aires. They accordingly bought the
estancia La Barrancosa in 1906, and have been constantly increasing the
area there under alfalfa, equipping it with a full complement of wells
and fencing. This estancia lies half way between the towns of San Isabel
and Venado Tuerto, from the latter of which it is distant about sixteen
miles. But, during the year 1909, a new broad-gauge railway line was
opened, leading from Rosario to Bahia Blanca. It passes right through
the estancia, and by means of a station just outside the boundary the
Company have fresh means of despatching their animals to Rosario.
VERA DEPARTMENT.
The headquarters of the Woods Department is situated about eight miles
N.W. of the town of Vera, which stands at kilometre 250 north of the
City of Santa Fé on the line of the French Railway Company leading from
Santa Fé to Resistencia. Sawmills and offices were built, which involved
the presence of a considerable number of work-people, for whom houses
had to be provided. Consequently, a small village has grown up at the
place.
A branch railway was begun in 1905, at a point 13 kilometres north of
Vera town, on the French Railway, to penetrate westwards into the
Company's forests, and has been extended to a point called Olmos, lying
30 miles away. Along the line two or three hamlets have sprung up, where
people connected with the wood industry reside, as well as the Company's
officials who control the timber in the neighbourhood.
In 1904 the Company entered into an agreement with Messrs. Albert and
Charles Harteneck, Frederick and Charles Portalis, and Hermann Renner,
to bring out a Company to work a factory for the manufacture of tannin
extract from the wood of the Quebracho Colorado tree, and this factory
was ultimately built within the Company's properties at a place called
La Gallareta, which is situated 17 kilometres north-west of the Station
of Margarita on the French Railway line. The Santa Fé Land Company have
also built a branch line from Margarita to this tannin factory.
[Illustration: _Watering-Place at Barrancosa._]
[Illustration: _Wood on the Company's Own Line ready for Loading._]
THE FOLLOWING TABLE SHOWS THE FINANCIAL POSITION OF THE COMPANY FROM
1898 TO THE PRESENT TIME.
Year Share Capital. Deben- Profit. Loss. Placed Balance Dividend
ending. tures to Forward. (percent.)
Autho- Issued 6 per cent. Reserve.
rised. and fully
paid.
£ £ £ £ £ £ £
30th June,
" 1898 612,500 612,500 ... 420 ... ... Cr. 420 ...
" 1899 612,500 612,500 ... ... 1,650 ... Dr. 1,230 ...
" 1900 612,500 612,500 ... 11,757 ... ... Cr. 2,870 1-1/4
" 1901 612,500 612,500 ... 9,854 ... 2,000 " 3,068 1-1/4
" 1902 612,500 612,500 ... 20,746 ... 10,000 " 6,158 1-1/4
" 1903 612,500 612,500 ... 23,988 ... 10,000 " 7,896 2
" 1904 612,500 612,500 50,000 28,332 ... 6,000 " 8,790 3-1/2
" 1905 612,500 612,500 50,000 36,483 ... 6,000 " 8,648 5
" 1906 812,500 612,500 50,000 48,183 ... 6,000 " 11,018 6-1/2
" 1907 812,500 766,500 50,000 82,700 ... 12,000 " 20,398 8
" 1908 1,000,000 812,500 50,000 91,463 ... 86,628[E] " 20,611 10
" 1909 1,000,000 812,500 50,000 115,375 ... 20,000 " 22,549 10 and
Bonus of 1-1/2
[Illustration: _Loading Timber at Wayside Station._]
FOOTNOTES:
[E] Including £76,623 from Share Premiums.
THE VALUE OF LAND IN ARGENTINA.
When one goes to a foreign country, and more especially when he intends
to settle there with the idea of making a fortune, he naturally turns
his attention to the value of the land, as from this he draws his views
of the prosperity of the country. Now, twenty-five years ago the
Argentine had comparatively very few railways; consequently, the lands
at any long distance from Buenos Aires (the capital) were at a very low
value. The province of Buenos Aires, the largest in the country, has
always been the most populated, and its lands have always commanded the
highest prices, and these have risen tremendously, but not so much of
late years in proportion as land in the northern provinces. During the
years 1885, 1886, 1887, and 1888, there was a great boom in land.
Foreigners were pouring in, bringing capital; great confidence was put
by foreign capitalists in the country, several railways had run out new
branches, new railways were built, new banks were opened, and a very
large extent of land was opened up and cultivated, and put under wheat
and linseed, harvests were good and money was flowing into the country.
Then came a very bad year, 1889; the harvest was practically lost owing
to the heavy and continuous rains which fell from December till July
with hardly a clear day. This, together with a bad government and the
revolution of 1890, created a great panic and a tremendous slump in all
land, from which it took a long time to recover. Where people had bought
camps and mortgaged them, which was the general thing to do in those
days, the mortgagees foreclosed, and, when the camps were auctioned
off, they did not fetch half what the properties had been bought for in
the first instance, some four or five years previously. This, naturally,
had a serious effect on the credit, soundness, and finances of the
country, but really, the crisis was not felt until some three or four
years after, and it was 1896 and 1897 which were very serious years for
the country.
To give one an idea of the value of land in four or five of the
principal provinces of the country, I must begin with the Queen
Province, as it is called, viz., Buenos Aires. In 1885, property in the
city centre was worth 2s. 6d. to 3s. 6d. a yard, whereas to-day it has
been sold up to £200 sterling per yard, while suburban lots of 20 yards
by 60 yards realised £5 and to-day are fetching £150, and camp lands
have risen from £10,000, to £100,000 the square league. Of course this
is within a radius of 30 to 50 leagues of the city; lands away to the
south and west may yet be bought at £10,000, and, still further south
towards Neuquen and the far Pampa, at £2,000 per square league. The
province of Buenos Aires is not considered good for alfalfa growing, but
has good natural grass camps.
The province of Santa Fé is a large province, extending from the
northern boundary of the province of Buenos Aires to Santiago del
Estero, and contains what is known as the Gran Chaco. The southern
portion of this province is largely dedicated to the production of
wheat, linseed, and maize, for which it is admirably adapted. There are
also large estancias carrying vast herds of cattle, sheep, and horses,
while the northern portion has vast forests of very fine and valuable
timber.
[Illustration: _Wheat ready for Loading at Station on Central Argentine
Railway._]
The first part of this province to be developed was the country around
Rosario, the large port on the River Parana, where ocean-going steamers
call. This, together with good railway accommodation in all directions
combined with excellent land in the district, facilitates the
cultivation of cereals on a very large scale. Property in Rosario itself
is very valuable, and from £30 to £50 a yard is a common figure. In the
immediate district of Rosario land is rarely sold in large areas, but
may be calculated at £20 an acre, whilst 40 leagues further north it is
to-day worth £50,000 a league. I know of one estancia of one league
which was bought in 1885 for £2,000, resold, after being sown down in
alfalfa and divided into paddocks, without further improvements, at
£12,000 (this was in 1903), and again sold in 1909, certainly with
further improvements as regards watering arrangements and more paddocks,
house, and sheds, etc., in fact, a fair model estancia in good working
order, for £60,000. Land on the south-west of Rosario, and about 40
leagues distant, has in the twenty-five years risen from £2,000 a league
to £40,000 a league. This is for virgin camp, and to-day in these
districts the average price can be stated at from £30,000 to £40,000 per
league, yet 300 miles further north land--good land--can be had at from
£4,000 to £6,000 per league.
The next province, Cordoba, is one of the most hilly in the country, and
has been one of the most developed during latter years. Some twenty
years ago this was almost considered a desert, where one was told
nothing would grow and cattle could not live. To-day it is one of the
most prosperous; wheat and linseed are great products here, while
alfalfa, when carefully treated, that is, not overstocked, lives for
ever on account of the sandy soil, and water being so near the surface.
These lands twenty years ago were valued at about £500 to £600 per
league, while to-day it is difficult to acquire land under cultivation
or alfalfa at less than £30,000 per league. In the Northern part of this
province are very valuable stone quarries.
Another province that is advancing very fast is that of San Luis. Here,
again, it has been found that alfalfa is at home, and thrives
splendidly. This, again, is a very sandy soil, and consequently is much
sought after, but this land has not yet touched the value of that in the
provinces already mentioned; it will not stand so much cropping, and
will not carry the same amount of stock, but still the average price for
virgin camp is from £5,000 to £10,000 per league. In this province there
is a very large extent of very poor land, covered with a small shrub,
which is not worth more than £2,000 a league.
Mendoza is a more northerly province, and mostly dedicated to the grape
and wine industry, while a lot of fruit is also exported from there.
Wine is made in very large quantities, and a lot of very good quality.
The value of land varies very much. The greater portion is worth at
present very little. The great point is to get the water concessions for
irrigating; without irrigation the land is useless. A good vineyard in
its prime, with good irrigation rights, is worth as much as from £40 to
£50 per acre, while the ordinary camp land is at about 7s. per acre.
[Illustration: _The Maker of Land Values._]
REMARKS ON STORMS AND THE CLIMATE OF THE ARGENTINE.
The Argentine Republic, like all hot countries, is subject to very great
hurricanes and storms. They occur most frequently in the spring and
summer, when very sudden changes of temperature take place. The
thermometer has often been known to drop 25 degrees within half an hour.
A great deal of damage is always caused, trees which have taken years of
care and trouble are ruthlessly uprooted, roofs blown off, windmills
blown down, haystacks turned over, and valuable animals struck by
lightning. The terrible closeness and stillness which generally precede
a "tormenta" are certain forerunners of bad weather and storms. A
terrible hailstorm which took place some time ago will always be
remembered by its spectators. The usual signs of it were evident; the
atmosphere had become very close and it had been extremely hot for some
hours before. Though only about 4 p.m., it got peculiarly dark and a
strong gale began to blow, and distant sounds of thunder were heard. A
sudden lull came, which meant that the storm was about to break; sheets
of lightning of every description were followed by deafening peals of
thunder, which made man and beast tremble. Then there came a downfall of
huge hailstones; they were just like big lumps of jagged ice; some of
them measured about six to eight inches round and weighed over half a
pound. This storm did a fearful lot of harm; not a leaf was left on a
single tree, and hundreds of birds lay dead all around. Though very
violent, this hailstorm did not last more than ten minutes, in which
time an incalculable amount of destruction took place.
In September, 1909, a very bad cyclone suddenly came on us. The sky
turned black and blacker, and the clouds looked horribly wicked.
Suddenly a terrific gale got up, which caused every window and door to
rattle in a most alarming manner, though they had all been as well
secured as possible. The dust seemed to filter in just the same, and in
five minutes the house was an inch thick in it. We heard a loud bang and
then another over our heads, and on looking out of a window we saw the
roof of one of the outer buildings lying on the ground; part of it had
been blown over our house and had carried away the chimney, a big iron
one, on its way. We were told afterwards that the cook had had to use
all her force against the kitchen window to keep it from bursting open,
as, if the wind had got in, it would have carried away that roof as
well. This hurricane lasted for about an hour and a-half; as soon as it
had abated somewhat we went out to see the result. Everywhere reigned
havoc and confusion, the whole place looked an old ruin, brick-bats,
tiles, broken branches, loose sheets of corrugated iron lying all
around; three roofs had been blown away, several windmills knocked down
and carried 100 yards away, and lovely old trees had been completely
uprooted.
The natives, frightened of remaining in their own quarters, had, in
their terror, deserted them and taken refuge, with their wives and
children, in the open camp, where they fondly imagined they were safer.
Out in the camp the roofs of most of the "puestos," or huts, had been
also carried away, leaving the occupants exposed to the cold rains and
winds which followed.
A peculiar feature of this storm was that it was not at all general; at
the neighbouring "estancias" it was not felt at all, and some of the
"peons," who were riding in the camp at the time, said they could see
this whirlwind coming a long way off at a tremendous rate and that it
looked like a column of red smoke; they could not feel the effects of
the wind either, although they were not more than half a mile away.
This storm was followed by very heavy rains which lasted for about ten
days, during which our house was flooded, as the wind had lifted the
tiles and the rain was driven in through every possible place.
Another time, when driving home from the town of Vernado Tuerto, we were
caught in a very bad dust storm. Things became so black that we could
not see where we were going, so we had to halt. The wind was so strong
that the men had to get out of the carriage, which was a heavy
covered-in waggonette, and hold the wheels down to prevent it from being
overturned. We all looked like seaside niggers, as the dust and rain
falling at once came down like mud on us all. One gets quite hardened to
these severe storms. On one occasion a very rough wind began to blow,
but, as it was a steady gale, no one took particular notice of it. It
was after dinner, and everybody was busy playing cards. The wind made
such a deafening noise that you could hardly hear yourself speak;
presently some of the occupants of the house thought they would have a
look outside to see if things were all right; when they were surprised
to see an outer building, used for stores and machinery, roofless, and
the roof nowhere to be seen; it was discovered afterwards on the top of
their own house, and they had never heard it happen.
The climate in the Argentine is very variable; we have great extremes of
heat and cold. It is healthy as a rule, except in the swampy districts
or during a very wet season, when a great many residents suffer from
rheumatism.
People talk about the sudden changes of English weather, but we are
treated just the same; one day it will be brilliantly hot and fine, and
another day cold and miserable.
One part of the country or another is generally suffering from drought,
when in another part they are being flooded out.
In the winter there is much more sunshine than there is in England; in
the early morning it is bitterly cold, at noon on a fine day it is
blazing hot, and then, as soon as the sun goes in, it freezes hard.
In the summer, of course, the heat is very great, but, as it is
generally dry, it is quite healthy.
SOME EXPERIENCES OF WORKING ON ESTANCIAS.
I came out with my brother on a tramp steamer from Penarth. We took
thirty-one days. However, time passed fairly quickly, chipping off rust
and painting the decks, after we got over our sickness.
Rain fell heavily as we landed at Buenos Aires, two typical _gringos_
(greenhorns), not knowing a word of Spanish. I went to a first-class
hotel, whose proprietor I had met in England. My first attempt to speak
Spanish was in a tram. I asked the conductor to stop; getting out I
said, "Mucha grasa" (much fat), instead of "muchas gracias" (many
thanks)--then called the man a fool for laughing.
We stopped in Buenos Aires a week and our bill came into hundreds of
dollars, which took a big slice off our small means.
We then went to an estancia (farm) in the Province of Cordoba. The
estancia was fifty-one miles square, owned by an Argentine family. The
manager was a North-American, well known in camp life.
The estancia consisted of three sections, one where I went, another
where my brother was, and the other the headquarters.
I was under a young Scotchman. The camp was fifteen miles, with 3,000
cows, 2,000 steers, and 500 mares. There was my companion, one peon
(man), a boy, and myself. My house was made of mud walls and floor, a
zinc roof, with a little straw. It was cool in summer, but very cold in
winter. There was one room for ourselves, where we slept and ate, one
for the cook (when we had one), and a kitchen. Under my bed I had a
snake's hole; a long black snake came out in the night, and, on hearing
a sound, would go back. I did everything to kill it, but with no
success. Also I had two kittens which slept in my bed. One night I felt
something soft by my feet. I thought it was the kittens, but, putting my
hand down, I found my feet covered with blood. I jumped out of bed, and
found a young hare half eaten and my sheets covered with blood.
The first thing I had to do was to skin a cow, and it made me feel very
uncomfortable to look at the horrid sight. The next day I was sent to
fetch the fat from a dead cow. When I got there I could not see any fat
and wondered what it was. I saw the intestines and carried them bodily
on my new recado (native saddle). My horse got excited and I arrived
dead beat. I told my companion I had the fat: then he burst out laughing
and said I had got the intestines. Needless to say my recado was the
worse for wear.
The food was different from what I was used to, and I felt ill for a
time.
In the summer I was up at between three and four, having "maté-cocido"
(cooked Paraguayan tea--the native drink) with a hard biscuit; at
eleven, breakfast of puchero (big pieces of meat boiled in a pot), then
maize with milk and a biscuit. Sometimes tea at four, but very seldom;
supper consisted of an asado and maté at seven or eight o'clock.
I had charge of two valuable stallions--they had a stable of mud and
straw.
At branding time the capataz (foreman) came up with his men for a week.
Up before three o'clock, quite dark, we branded 6,000 calves, and I
enjoyed it.
The Boss seldom came; when he did, his trap would be sure to run over a
piece of wire, and then we heard of it; nothing missed him.
Then our cook began stealing provisions from the store box. We changed
the locks three times, and each time she bought a key to the same. One
night I asked her for some coffee. She said there was none. I could see
she had some in a small bag, and I went to fetch it. She took up a knife
and threatened me. I soon twisted the knife from her. Our food was bad,
my companion was careless, and frightened of her. One day he had a row,
and she got the sack, using strong language. We then did our own cooking
for eight months: the first one home from camp had to begin cooking.
The meat we got was often green and bitter. All the time we had puchero
and asado, and an occasional ostrich egg.
Ostriches swarmed everywhere, and it was good sport lassoing them. I
found one nest with fifty eggs, laid by different birds. My cooking was
rather a failure at first, the smoke was so thick we could not see each
other. I was told to cook maize for dinner. I made a big fire, and
cooked for three hours, and was then told I had the stallions' maize.
Another time it was very dark; our candles, made of old clothes and
grease, had run out. I had made some good soup, and put the pot near the
table, then, walking by, put my foot in it: the hot grease made me hop,
and took the skin off my foot. Our table was an old greasy box; we had
no plates, nor forks, just a big knife. Sometimes, coming in very tired
from a hard day, we had no strength to chop wood and make a fire; we
just went to bed. Many days we only had an asado and maté. Maté I am
very fond of--it is so refreshing and sustaining.
My brother was only eight miles away: his section was under alfalfa, and
he had a comfortable house. One dark night, going home from his place, I
followed a fence until I came to a cross fence. I was going slowly,
when, all of a sudden, my horse stopped dead, and I shot over the fence,
the bridle and halter came off, and away went my horse, leaving me to
continue five miles on foot.
Bizcachas (like a big badger) were numerous. One day we dug a two-metre
hole, and next day found eight live ones. They have teeth one and a-half
inches long.
Our nearest village was eighteen miles away, where I met some English
friends, and played tennis or had some other amusement. I used to start
back at 2.30 a.m. to be in time for work. One night I had to cross a big
field, without a path or fence for a guide. It was dark, and lightning
hard. I made for a light, which I thought was the house. Going for some
time, I came to a fence--I was lost. I unsaddled and lay down to sleep,
the rain was pouring hard, when I heard a donkey braying, so I shouted,
and was answered by a man in a puesto (out-station). The light I saw was
a village twelve miles away.
My companion was very slack, and the patrons came up and sacked him.
Then I went to the estancia house for a month, breaking in colts for
driving. I felt rather sad at leaving my rough work. It was hard work,
but I never had better health.
My Boss then earned $15 per month, and his wife cooked for the men. Now
he is one of the richest men in the country.
There was no opening there, so the Boss sent me to a New Zealander who
had half a league of camp, all fine stock, good alfalfa and splendid
water. He had a big house and I expected I would live well. My first
work was to dig up locusts' eggs for a week under a hot sun, with the
ground very hard. The Boss was a man of forty-two, very red-faced and
extremely rich, but as mean as possible.
Our meals took about six to eight minutes, fast eating; he would watch
every mouthful. At tea he would take a lot of milk and give me a little;
he finished soon, while I burnt my throat. He allowed me a slice of
biscuit for each meal. His cook only got $10 a month.
In the winter we were in bed by six to seven.
His clothes were a disgrace to any peon. He had native trousers that
button at the foot, with top boots, no socks, his heel and big toe were
sticking out, no vest, only a shirt and an old hat, where the grease of
many years was visible.
He was a splendid worker--I have not seen a better one. We used to catch
locusts in a big zinc box pulled by two horses; the locusts were put
into sacks, and after being left standing for four days, were carted to
the village, where he got 10 cents a kilo. The smell in carting these
dead locusts was simply terrible. Then I helped pick ten square of
maize, which at first took a little skin off my hands. At branding time
we lassoed each calf to cut off the horns. I had to sit on their necks,
and got smothered in the face with hot blood. The Boss was very proud
because his monthly account only came to $12 for four of us: biscuits,
sugar, tea, and other things. He sent his clothes once in three months
to be washed. He had few friends, no one ever came to visit him, and
every Sunday he shut himself in his room. He bought the place for
$90,000 and sold it for over double. He was a thorough campman, but so
mean. One cold winter 500 cows died of starvation; rather than sell them
at a low price he let them starve. The last thing he said was, he was
"going to New Zealand to marry an ugly lady, but she has plenty of
money." His countrymen called him a disgrace to his country and the
meanest in the Argentine.
Then a kind friend found me a place on a well-known estancia in the same
province. The manager, the second-manager, and the book-keeper were all
Irish, born in the country. I had a good horse, which I rode fifty miles
to the estancia.
The second told me to have my food with the peons (men), which was
rather disheartening. I tried to eat in the kitchen, but the French cook
kicked me out, and for ten months I fed with the peons; they were very
good fellows. The second and the book-keeper had meals together. The
second-manager did no work: up at half-past eight, he went to the train,
had a drink at the shop, then came back for dinner, slept until
tea-time, then went to see the train pass again and have another drink,
and came back at all hours. He had been there fourteen years and was
only getting a hundred a month.
The chief work was loading cattle and sheep for the big freezing
factories. The trucks were rotten. One night we finished at 11 p.m.,
after a hard day's work, three of us unloaded 300 quebracho posts in
under three hours. I had a French gardener in my room who did nothing
else but spit and talk politics.
The Boss took me to learn shearing. I had to shear, gather the wool,
sort it and pack it up. Each man got five cents a sheep, but it was hard
work, all done by hand.
Then I cut alfalfa for a fortnight--a nice easy job.
A Catholic priest came to stay for eight days--Mass every day at 7 a.m.
and 8 p.m., sometimes three a day. No work at all. Everyone had to
go--the book-keeper did not, so he got the sack. I, as a Protestant,
went to the sermons, which were very good. It was wonderful; these rough
campmen went away quite tamed for a time. The last night the Boss got
married at half-past twelve at night to a native lady. Another time,
while we were at Mass, someone came to say the gardener was dying--we
raced down, the priest in front ready to hear his confession, but when
we got there the gardener was calmly smoking his pipe, greatly
surprised.
An inspector of locusts stopped all the summer. He did nothing but eat,
sleep, and drink whisky. We had locust-killing machines of every
description, but we did not kill ten kilos.
The days I enjoyed were when we started out early to part some animals
in a herd of over a thousand. At eleven we would have an asado and maté,
and give our horses a drink, then finish parting, and get home at
half-past seven. The horses look wrecks, and no good, but they work all
day--mostly galloping--and are splendid stayers.
The Boss's brother, a very nice man of fifty, married a servant of the
Boss, a girl of eighteen.
Great excitement is caused by races. The Boss was keen, and the men
talked of nothing else for days. Every Sunday there are races. Once I
rode my horse bareback in three races of 200 metres, and won a bottle of
beer, a packet of tobacco, and a knife.
Then I was put in charge of fine stock. I had ten Durham bulls, two
thoroughbred stallions, one Pecheron, eight rams and twelve pigs. I had
a boy under me. I also had to saddle up the Boss's and the Second's
horses, and harness the traps. Sometimes I had to wait till eleven at
night, very tired, to unsaddle the Second's horse, as he had been making
love to the Stationmaster's sister.
The work was very interesting and hard, even on Sundays or feast days,
watering, cleaning the animals, and curing any foals that were ill.
I then moved to another room near the stable, with a newly arrived
Italian who knew no Spanish nor English, also an Irishman just arrived.
They could not speak to each other. The Irishman slept on the floor
every night, and poured kerosene all over him to keep insects away. One
day he poisoned five pigs, giving them the dip-water to drink. He had
few clothes. He would turn them inside out, and often had three pairs of
trousers and two shirts on.
One day the Boss was out: the men were taming some wild colts in the
corral. I took French leave and went. I got on five. None had had a
saddle on before or even been handled. We lassoed them, pulled them down
and put on the bridle. Then five men held a long rope and one put on the
native saddle, with stirrups big enough to get your toes in. Then they
tied a red handkerchief round my head. I mounted gently but quickly.
Then the rope was taken off and away the colt went as fast as possible,
with one man on each side to shove you either way, all the time bucking
and plunging. I did not fall, but one stirrup broke. One laid down and
would not move. It tried to bite everyone. When they go fast and buck at
the same time it is very hard to stick on.
On the 25th of May, the great holiday in this country, I went to an
estancia to see some friends. On my way back we had to cross a deep
river. The coachman drove across, but one wheel went into a big hole and
the jerk sent me out on my head, where the wheel passed over my hair,
missing my head by inches. I was senseless. A crowd of women came and
began weeping--they thought I was dead--then I was taken in a procession
to the chemist, who sent me to a hospital, where I found my collar bone
broken. I did nothing for three weeks.
This estancia is a splendid one for learners, because there is a little
of everything. Once I had a month with the threshing machine, sleeping
out with the mosquitoes, and getting meat nearly raw for food; but a lot
of money can be made from the harvest.
Then, after a few weeks' holiday to England, we came back, and I went
down south with my brother to sow alfalfa seed. We had a caravan on
wheels, and learned how to plough and sow. We went to a camp
race-meeting, where every estancia has its own tent, there is racing all
day and dancing at night.
I often look back upon these jolly times. Work was exacted with anything
but kindness, but the life was simple and very healthy, and many
pleasant reminiscences are talked over when it is my luck to join others
around the camp fire before falling to sleep with nothing but a
bullock's head as a pillow and a "recado" as a blanket and the glorious,
starry sky above one.
THE SOCIAL SIDE OF CAMP LIFE.
To an outsider, life in the camps or country might be considered very
slow: the distance between the estancias being so great, the ordinary
form of social life is quite impossible; for instance, when one goes to
pay a call on a neighbour, even a first call, it means going for the
day, starting in the cool of the morning and returning in the evening,
and so allowing the horses to have a rest. Of course, if everyone had a
motor-car, this might not be necessary; but as yet they are very few and
far between. This is no doubt owing to the bad roads; in most districts,
after a few hours' rain, the roads are flooded, and what is worse still,
"pantanosa" (thick, sticky mud).
Most estancieros keep open house, and are only too pleased when people
"drop in," which they do at all times and for any meal, almost without a
"by your leave." An estancia house has to be very elastic, and ready to
provide, at a moment's notice, board and lodging for unexpected guests.
This is quite the nicest way of entertaining one's friends--no fuss of
preparation, and, more often than not, a very jolly evening of cards,
music, or games.
It is a delightful country for men, a healthy, open-air life, with
plenty of hard work and hard riding; each man has from four to six
horses allowed him for working purposes, and then, as a rule (talking of
the English mayor-domo), he has two or three polo ponies of his own.
Sunday is the great day for polo; there is very little time in our busy
Argentine even for a practice game during the week, so Sunday means a
merry meeting of friends wherever there is a polo club in the district,
people going in six or seven leagues (or even more) from one side of
the town to meet friends who have come an equal distance from the other
side, a thing they might not do for months if it were not for the polo
club. Each lady takes her turn in providing tea on these polo Sundays,
and there is great competition as to who makes the best cakes,
especially as it often falls to the lady herself to make these luxuries.
Wherever there is a polo club the most exciting event of the year is the
Spring Race Meeting, two days' racing, often followed by a polo match or
tournament with neighbouring clubs, and always as many dances as
possible, as it is the only time in the year when enough girls can be
collected together; every estancia house has its own party, as many as
can be crowded in, including friends from Buenos Aires and Rosario, who
delight in these camp meetings, and she is a proud hostess who can count
a few girls amongst her party. I may as well add here that girls are
almost "non est" in the camp, many districts for leagues and leagues
round not being able to boast of one English girl.
[Illustration: _Tennis Party at Vera_.]
Most clubs hold a Gymkhana Meeting in the Autumn, which makes one more
excitement in the year: it is a very merry meeting as a rule, with
always a dance or two if enough girls can be found. During the Winter
season (from April 1st to September 1st) the shooting is very good in
most parts, and many good shooting parties are given where there is
enough game to make it worth while asking one's friends. The bag
consists of partridges, martinetta (similar to the pheasant) and hares
(which are not considered worth picking up); when there are a number of
guns, dogs are not used, but two men on horseback drag a wire through
the grass (several in a line, if a big party), which forces the birds to
rise, and the guns walk behind. Peons on horseback, carrying sacks, keep
close up to them and pick up the birds as they fall, and close on their
heels comes a big brake, into which are emptied the contents of the
sacks as they get too heavy. The ladies of the party follow in all sorts
and conditions of vehicles, cheering on the shooters and dispensing
much-needed refreshments. A shoot is always followed up by a jolly
evening, after a hot bath and a good dinner. The men, forgetting how
tired they are, are quite ready to sing, dance, or play bridge until the
small hours. Another great event not to be forgotten is the visit of the
Camp Chaplain: he goes from one district to another holding services,
every Sunday in a different place. In a well-populated district he would
hold one about every two months, but to some places, where there are
next to no English people, he would probably only go about once or twice
a year. Church Sunday is quite an event, and again gives one an
opportunity of meeting friends from a distance. The parson is very
lenient with us as a rule, and does not object to any form of amusement
in the afternoon, such as polo, tennis, cricket, football, or golf, and
encourages the young men to come to _Church_ (usually a room hired for
the occasion) in costumes suitable for such. Our poor Camp Chaplain does
not have an easy time; distances are so great that more than half his
time is spent on the train.
[Illustration: _Carnival at Vera_.]
CARNIVAL IN THE ARGENTINE.
Carnival falls every year during the week before the beginning of Lent.
It is a general holiday, and much fun and amusement are crammed into the
few days which precede the dull season of fasting.
Carnival is more observed in camp towns than in the bigger cities, where
the custom of celebrating it is very much on the wane, and where the law
forbids water-throwing and other such damp forms of amusement, which are
winked at by the more lenient authorities in local towns.
It is really quite a pretty sight to see a camp town during carnival.
The one main street, which does not boast of pavements, and is generally
a yard deep in dust, is gaily decorated with bunting and festoons. Small
stands are put up every ten yards or so, in which the "caballeros" take
up their positions and pelt the "senoritas" with confetti and
"serpentinas" (blocks of different coloured paper which look like rolls
of tape about 30 or 50 yards long). The elite of the "pueblo" drive
round in the procession; ladies, some in the very latest creations, and
some in beautiful fancy dresses, parade round in flower and ribbon
bedecked carriages. A prize is generally given to the best decorated
conveyance, and to the best fancy costume, which causes a lot of
competition and jealousy amongst the fair sex.
On an estancia, carnival is celebrated in a much more drastic fashion.
On one place, the giddy members of the household have a very rowdy time
of it, and make things very lively for the unwary. On one occasion, they
determined to give the mayor-domo his share of the general drenching
which he had missed; so when he rode in at midday, after a long and busy
morning's work in the camp, he was welcomed with a volley of buckets of
water, which were emptied over him from the top of the house, where the
delinquents had taken up their advantageous position.
Another time a certain young damsel, a guest in the same house, saw from
the window her hostess entertaining one of the boys, a fresh arrival
from England, who had ridden over from a neighbouring estancia. Prompted
by her daring friends she was induced to take up a jug of water, and
stealing up behind his chair, emptied the contents of the vessel over
the visitor's head, and then bolted; the injured party, after recovering
his self-possession, rose to the occasion and gave chase, and after a
desperate struggle, and in spite of penitent apologies, she was borne
off by her captor and deposited in the first tub he happened to see,
which turned out to be a freshly painted rubbish barrel.
There is not much respecting of persons on these occasions, the girls
generally combine against the boys, who, as a rule, come off best. The
most binding promises are made on both sides, who vow not to throw
anything larger than a "globo" (a small balloon filled with water, which
bursts when it touches anything solid) or "poms" (leaden squirt full of
scent); but in the excitement of the fray which follows all is
forgotten, and buckets of water, the garden hose, and even the ducking
of some in water troughs, are the final outcome.
The scene after an afternoon or evening's battle is very funny; girls,
with their hair lying in dripping masses over their faces and shoulders,
their dresses, generally the oldest of thin cotton ones, clinging
hopelessly to their wearied forms, present a truly comic sight. When
they are all tired of strife, they retire by common consent to the
house, where, after discarding their soaking garments and taking a warm
bath, they are ready to discuss the glories of the day over a
much-wanted dinner.
HORSE-RACING IN THE ARGENTINE.
HORSE-RACING IN THE ARGENTINE.
In this country a great deal more racing goes on than in Europe, and it
is not confined to the moneyed classes only. Even the "peones" hold
their small meetings and match their grass-fed ponies. Estancieros and
mayor-domos have camp race-meetings once or twice yearly at all the
larger polo clubs, and at Palermo and Hurlingham every class of society
in Buenos Aires may be seen on the stands.
At Palmero race-meetings are held frequently, almost weekly in fact, on
Sunday afternoons; and the stands are generally well filled. On days of
festival, when there is a special programme, the place is crowded, and
these occasions correspond, more or less, with the more important
meetings in England.
The course is of earth, and perfectly flat, so that the only thing which
interferes with the view is dust. The stands are magnificent and the
different grades of society are divided by railings, while at the back
of each may be seen the row of offices of the "Sport," which is the
betting system of the country.
This consists of tickets, which are sold at a fixed price, with the name
of one of the entries. After the race there is a great rush to the
offices, made by those who have bought the winner, to collect their
winnings, which are the total receipts, minus a small percentage,
divided by the number of those who bought the winner. In this way a very
hot favourite will pay very little more than the original purchase
money, while an outsider who wins will pay his backers perhaps ten, or
even twenty times their deposit. There is also private betting, of
course, but no public bookmakers.
The horses are of very good quality, though not up to the standard of
the classic races in Europe. A number of youngsters are imported yearly
from England and the United States, and among them usually some good
selling-plate winners, and one or two that have been placed in
first-class flat races. The country also produces some excellent horses,
and they are improving every year; the stud farms are already well known
in Europe as some of the best in the world. Of these, the most
important, perhaps, is the "Ojo de Agua," so-called from its famous
spring, which waters all the stables as well as dwelling quarters. It is
the home of the famous Cyllene, whose offspring we expect to see winning
races in the near future; Polar Star, scarcely less known, and
Ituzaingo, a native of this country, are his present companions; while
the remains of Gay Hermit, Stiletto, Pietermaritzburg, and Kendal, all
of whom are well known among turf circles at home, rest beneath its
soil. There are several other equally famous stud farms, such as the
"San Jacinto," the present home of Val d'Or, who won the Eclipse Stakes
from Cicero, the Derby winner of that year; at another, Diamond Jubilee,
whose list of victories is long, resided for the latter part of his
life.
Nor are the jockeys unworthy of their mounts, and some very fine riding
may be witnessed both at Palermo and Hurlingham.
In contrast to these races, run on a well-ordered course, and watched
from luxurious stands, are the native "cancha" meetings, held, probably,
at some country public-house, and run on a "cancha," consisting of a
soft piece of road, or along a fence where there are no holes. The races
consist of matches arranged between two ponies, over short distances.
The start is made only by agreement of both the jockeys, and thus many
hours are wasted in their manoeuvres to get the advantage of one another
at the start. If the judges have money on the loser, the race is often
given a dead heat, and has to be run again. The pony of most endurance
has usually the best chance of winning, though the race itself is short,
as his rival may be tired out by repeated false starts. Large sums of
money often change hands at these meetings, as the native is a born
gambler, and understands this primitive method of racing better than the
more complicated systems of the regular course. Owing to this, and to
the competitors' efforts to cheat one another, not infrequently knives
are drawn during the heated discussion which follows the race.
The ponies are, for the most part, taken straight off the camp, though
in some cases they have been fed on maize and trained. They are ridden
either bareback or with the native "recado," and catch-weights: as may
be gathered from the method, it is usually "owners up."
Between these two extreme classes of racing in this country are the
English camp race-meetings, which are held by all the larger polo clubs
once or twice a year. Being of rare occurrence, and as some, if not all,
of the faces are open to members of other clubs, these are among the
chief social gatherings in camp life: in many cases there is a small
polo tournament attached, as it is the best opportunity for those who
come from a distance, and could not come twice. Therefore it usually
means a two or three days' holiday, and often a dance, or some
entertainment in the evenings. Old friends exchange reminiscences, and
new acquaintances are formed; while the ladies also make the best of the
opportunity to put on their smartest frocks and hats.
The races themselves, too, are the source of considerable talk and
excitement: both horses and jockeys are well known by sight or
reputation to the chief part of the company, and any "dark horse" or new
arrival, is inspected with care and anxiety by his rivals.
The class of horse entered varies between the three-quarter bred and the
"criollo" with no pretence to breeding at all, who often carries off the
short polo pony sprints. Occasionally there may be a thoroughbred
entered who has been found wanting at Palermo or Hurlingham, but these
are few and not always successful, as the longest races do not often
exceed about a mile and a-half. As the weights correspond to
steeplechase weights at home the jockeys are practically always
amateurs, and a large percentage of "owners up" is always found. Young
mayor-domos who have never ridden at a meeting before often find
themselves ranged alongside of Grand National riders at the start, and
some amusing incidents have occurred, though there is some very good
amateur riding to be seen as well.
The betting is on a smaller scale generally than at the native meeting,
and is often conducted by someone setting up as a public bookmaker; at
other times a "sport" is formed after the fashion of Palermo. Also the
auction of all entries before the start of the races in the American way
is a great favourite; the total receipts for each race are divided
proportionately between those who bought the winner and "placed" horses.
There is opportunity for a little horse-dealing too, and many good polo
ponies to send home or play in the tournaments have been picked up in
this way. The shorter races for ponies under polo height give an
opportunity to the polo player, and the mayor-domo who cannot train his
ponies for longer distances, to try the mettle of their mounts against
outside and purer blood.
Nowadays most of the entries are trained to some extent, though not
many go to regular training establishments. To have a reasonable chance
of running well in the longer races, however, it is necessary to have
your mounts in stable exercised regularly and fed on corn. It is only
quite lately, however, that even so much training has been adopted at
all generally. In the old pioneer days of English estancias, when these
clubs were formed, they raced ponies taken straight off grass and kept
fit by riding the regular rounds of camp and stock.
There are many tales of the great "rags" that happened in those days,
and curious incidents of racing, too. On one occasion a winner of a polo
pony race was objected to as over height. The measurement was to be
taken after the end of the meeting; and it must be remembered that all
ponies out in the camp are unshod. The man who had come in second went
round to the stables before the measuring and noticed in the winner's
stall a number of large pieces of hoof recently chopped off. The pony
passed with an inch off his forefeet and nothing was said, though it had
been obviously over height. That evening at bridge the owner happened to
win considerably from the man who had lodged the complaint, who, when
the score was to be settled, threw down some pieces of hoof on the table
saying, "Take back your dirty chips."
Nowadays, of course, things are not quite so rough and ready, and most
of the clubs are affiliated, and run under Hurlingham or the Jockey Club
rules, so that good sport and good feeling prevail. In fact the camp man
looks forward to these occasions as the best bits of sport and amusement
that he will get during the year.
SUNDAYS IN CAMP.
SUNDAYS IN CAMP.
In no place is Sunday more looked forward to and enjoyed than in camp.
Holidays on the estancia come but seldom, and were it not for the
welcome break that gives the campman a day of rest every week, his life
would be a round of work, and probably make him the proverbial "dull
boy." All the busy working-days are so filled with the various duties
that when evening comes and dinner is over the tired worker has little
inclination for reading or any other relaxation, the thought of that
early bell which rouses him before sunrise makes him take advantage of
every hour's sleep he can. At an hour when the townman is thinking of
beginning the evening's amusement at theatre or concert, the campman is
sleeping the sound sleep that fresh air combined with hard work never
denies. But on one evening an exception is made to these early hours,
and that is Saturday. With the pleasant feeling of a week's work
completed and the morrow's rest before them, our campmen begin their
weekly holiday by an extra hour or two at billiards or music, or perhaps
a rubber of bridge, turning in with a fervid "Thank goodness,
to-morrow's Sunday." Then the pleasure of waking at the usual hour (4
a.m. or even earlier in summer) and remembering that it is the blessed
Day of Rest, and having time to enjoy the extra hours, then the luxury
of dressing at one's leisure, choosing the collar and most becoming tie
and adjusting them with care, and coming out in spotless white duck or
smart riding breeches, ready to enjoy whatever sport is in season;
tennis is mostly played all the year round; and when birds are plentiful
a shoot on the lagunas attracts the sportsman, the "bag" making a
welcome variety to the dinner table; snipe, partridge, hares, and many
varieties of duck are common in a season that has not been too dry.
Then, to those lucky ones who have a polo club within reach, Sunday
during the winter season is a day of real enjoyment.
The game, which in England can only be played by men of means, can on
the estancia be enjoyed by all at little expense, the useful little
Argentine horses being easily trained to the game. Sometimes one finds a
few enterprising golfers who, with not a little trouble, make a few
"greens" and do a couple of rounds just to keep their hand in, but it is
not a general camp game. It will be seen, however, that the Day of Rest
is not one of idleness, but rather a healthful and beneficial change of
exercise.
Church service enters but seldom into the camp Sunday--such privileges
are rare, although now camp parsons are more numerous than a few years
ago--but at best one can only count on one or two services a year. When
a Church service _is_ held he would be a carping critic indeed who is
not satisfied and pleased with the earnest attention with which the
service is followed and the vigorous singing of hymns and chants in
which all the boys join so lustily; it is a reminder of Home to them,
and the familiar service is thoroughly enjoyed.
The Day of Rest, so essential to one's well-being, seems to come round
with such surprising rapidity that we may say truly it proves that
estancia life, with its long hours of hard work, so far from being
monotonous or wearisome, is a happy life. Where time flies past quickly
it means it passes happily, and amongst the most pleasant of the days we
spend in this land of sunshine we must count the Sundays in camp.
[Illustration: "A Day of Real Enjoyment."]
THE SERVANT PROBLEM IN ARGENTINA.
THE SERVANT PROBLEM IN ARGENTINA.
We often hear complaints from friends at home about the trouble they
experience over obtaining and keeping good servants, and there is no
doubt that the servant problem is a serious one in England, and is
getting worse every year; but it pales into insignificance when compared
with the trials and tribulations of those who live in the Argentine and
have to keep house.
From all one hears, those living in Buenos Aires and the larger towns
have a terrible time of it with their servants, especially if they are
not overburdened with the good things of this world in the shape of hard
cash; but my experiences have been confined to the camp, so that of the
town side of the question I cannot speak.
I have been three years in the province of Cordoba, and all the servants
I have met with except one were Argentines from the foothills of the
Cordoba Sierras.
They were without exception quite untrained as far as the English idea
goes, and the first thing to do with them was usually to teach them the
primitive ideas of cleanliness. The first servant I had was an ancient
female named Andrea, about forty years old, and it proved quite
impossible to get her to see the necessity of keeping anything in the
kitchen clean, as she seemed imbued with the idea that it was great
waste of time washing saucepans and frying-pans, as they would only get
dirty again when next used, and the most she could be persuaded to do
was to rub them round inside with a bit of old newspaper or a handful of
grass. Needless to say, after a time I got tired of these methods, and
so we parted.
My next servant, Angelina, was one of the best I had, as she was clean,
which was a great consideration, and also she was quick to learn and
soon picked up the rudiments of cooking according to our ideas; her
great failing, however, was that she was anything but honest, and could
not refrain from petty pilfering; and another drawback to her was her
objection to wearing shoes or stockings in the hot weather; in spite of
being constantly told that she must not appear without them, she would
insist in doing so, and this was a continual cause of trouble.
After getting rid of No. 2 our real troubles began, and we had eight
changes in ten months. At the time we were living in wooden huts about
two miles from a village which was a summer resort for rich people from
Buenos Aires, and this caused a dearth of servants during the summer
months, as the place was full from the beginning of December to the end
of March, and people who came up for the summer and rented houses
usually were willing to pay anything to get servants, with the result
that we outside would get none, or only the cast-off ones. Nos. 3 and 4
stayed but a short time. My fifth attempt was a terrible girl, too dirty
for words; and though apparently willing to learn, too utterly lacking
in intelligence to ever learn anything. She used to get herself into the
most awful grimy condition, and one incident during her time with me is
worth mentioning. I had with great difficulty one day got her to
understand that a wood floor could not be properly cleaned with a grass
broom dipped in cold water and just swished about over it, and, by going
down on my knees with a scrubbing brush and hot water and soap, and
giving a practical demonstration of how a floor should be washed, had
started her away to clean it, and judged that I might safely leave her,
to attend to the other household duties in the kitchen. I must tell you
that the day previously I had given her a practical lesson in
black-leading a stove by doing it myself while she looked on. Well,
after an hour in the kitchen I returned to see how she was getting on,
when I found to my great pleasure that not content with scrubbing the
floor, she had also attacked the stove with hot water, soap, and
scrubbing brush, with the result that my hard work of the previous day
was all undone and the whole room well sprinkled with black specks and
the stove a mass of rust. Two weeks of similar experiences finished our
acquaintance, and she gave place to No. 6. After I had spent three weeks
teaching No. 6 cooking, she quietly informed me that she was leaving at
the end of the week to take up a place as cook in Rosario, as she now
knew enough cooking for the position; so I had not only wasted all my
time in teaching her, but had paid her into the bargain for learning
enough to leave me.
The next servant, No. 7, Alexandrina, was, I think, the worst. She was a
Spaniard from Barcelona. She was an awful individual, and would insist
on wearing clothes of so light and scanty a nature that she was not
decent to have about the house; also, whenever we happened to have a
joke of any sort to laugh over at meals, she used immediately to come in
from the kitchen to see what was going on, and I had the greatest
difficulty to get her to return to the kitchen. I had to get rid of her,
because her moral reputation was anything but good, and two days in the
week she refused to get out of bed, and told me to do my own dirty work,
as she was ill; so at the end of two weeks she had to go. No. 8, Maria,
was a girl direct from the sierras, and was very stupid and silly, and
did not a single thing. One day I was buying vegetables, and she asked
me why I wanted to buy roots, and when I told her they were to eat, she
said even poor people could afford to buy meat, and she would not eat
them. One day I took this girl out with me to do some shopping, and
called on some people who had a piano. It was twilight, and someone was
playing the piano, and she rushed in the room and out again, with her
face very white, and said someone was beating a big, black animal in the
corner of the room, and it was screaming dreadfully with the pain. This
girl's mother was a very talkative old lady, and would insist on coming
with three children every day and taking up her position in the kitchen,
and when once she commenced to talk, one could not get away from her. At
the end of the month she came for the girl's pay, and wanted me to pay
her more money, which I was not willing to do, as I had been unable to
teach her much; so she asked if her daughter might go away for the day
and night, as she had to bath. This I was only too willing to agree to,
and let her go; but they returned in the middle of the night, and
removed all her belongings. After a few days I managed to get No. 9, who
was a widow with two children: but she only stayed two weeks. Our tenth
and last attempt was made with No. 4 once more, as she was again able to
come to us. She stayed two months, when we went away for four weeks'
holiday. A week after our return I paid her in full for the month,
though she had never been near the house all that time, and she promptly
said she could not stay with us any longer, and left. We nearly got to
No. 11, as we engaged a girl to come at $20 a month to start with, and
she was to come the next morning at eight o'clock to begin work. She
arrived at 10 a.m., and informed me that, as we had paid our last
servant $25 the month, she could not come for less. I was so sick and
tired of my experiences that this finished me, and I decided to do
without any servant. Since then, for the last year, I have done the work
myself.
POLICE OF A BYGONE DAY.
POLICE OF A BYGONE DAY.
Yes, times have changed since I went to San Cristobal just twenty years
ago. For then the English were pioneers, so to speak; not in a country
of savagery, but of semi-savagery, a very different and much worse
matter. I wonder is A.J., the Chief of Police, still to the fore? Ye
gods, how that man tried to break my heart, and how nearly he succeeded!
I was a Mayor-domo then, and G. was my boss, standing in the place of
the owners to me. The boss had a mortal dread of the police and their
powers, seen and unseen. So that when the worthy Chief of Police
suddenly decided to add the trade of butchering to his many lucrative
businesses, I received orders to sell him cows at twenty-five per cent.
less price than I sold to any of his competitors. Thus, whereas I was
selling them at twenty dollars paper, then worth about one pound per
head, I had to sell him at fifteen shillings, with the inevitable result
that he almost immediately became master of the situation and the entire
local market became his, enabling him to charge what he liked for meat,
while I was forbidden to raise the price of the cows sold him.
Insatiable in his greed, he began to ask for cattle twice a week, always
taking from ten to twenty animals, until one day, after exceptionally
wet weather, I protested that it was not possible to round up the stock
in the then state of the camp and destroy so much grass for a small
bunch of cows. Unlucky thought and ill-judged protest! For when he urged
that the inhabitants of the town were starving, and that a small point
of half-breed heifers would do to go on with, I received orders to let
him part out from our best herd. Twenty fine half-bred Herefords did he
pick while I almost shed tears of blood, though all the time, of course,
I had to show a smiling face.
This sort of thing had been going on for some time, when one of the
boundary riders told me that the fence between the town and one of our
nearest paddocks had been cut during the night.
"Then mend it up," said I.
"Sir, it is mended already."
Not a week had passed before the same man brought me the same report. So
I determined to "parar rodeo" (round up the cattle) immediately, and
count them. Twenty heifers short in one square league, and in less than
a month! This thing had to stop. I told the Capataz to take the boundary
rider off that beat, without telling him why, and then the Capataz and I
patrolled the fence night after night for a week, during which it was
never cut.
We put a new boundary rider on, and three mornings later he came to see
me bright and early, saying that not only had the fence been cut, but
that there were distinct traces of cattle having passed out recently.
After assuring myself that there was no doubt about the matter, for I
found the hoof marks of what I calculated to be not less than twenty
animals, I went post haste to my friend the Chief of Police, never
doubting that after all the favours shown him he would prove a friend in
need. I was young then.
"You don't say so, Don Ernesto!" said his podgy, putty-faced little
Highness. "Where was it? When was------ By heavens, somebody shall
suffer for this! Just let me or any of my soldiers catch the thieves,
and not one of them shall reach Santa Fé alive. Now, I'll tell you what.
Just leave it to me, and don't you worry nor think any more about the
matter, much less mention it to a soul. In less than two days I'll have
the thief or thieves here in the stocks."
I told him plainly that that was not my programme, and that, whatever he
did, I was not going to leave that fence unpatrolled until I could move
the stock out of the paddock.
"Then this is what we'll do, Don Ernesto. You shall be one of us. You
come and dine with me at six o'clock this evening, and afterwards we'll
go out with the sergeant and five or six men and catch 'em."
It was about the equinox, if I remember rightly--the springtime, when
everything is lovely and lovable: the camp flowers all in bloom, the
aroma of the trees burdening the air with delicious perfume, the fresh
verdure and plenty of grass, the powerful, stout-hearted bounding of the
horse (no longer "poor") beneath one, and, above all, the great issue
expected of the business in hand, the most important business to me in
the world at the time--all these combined spelled but one word, "Hope!"
Carbine in hand, Colt in holster, I arrived at his residence. There he
was, sitting at the door of his corner house, whence he could look down
three streets at once. How like a spider, I thought.
His welcome was cordial, but he seemed to smile at my eagerness, and
told me that he never dined before eight.
"But let us sit here in the cool of the evening," said he, handing out a
chair for me to sit by him on the footpath, "and let us take some
refreshment to while away the time. But, tell me, where did you say that
the fence was cut? But did you really see signs that cattle had passed?
Preposterous! The sons of guns shall suffer for this. Eh well, I'm glad
of it in a way--glad to have a little work, and perhaps a little
excitement. It doesn't do to have a too orderly district, for the
Governor and his satellites in Santa Fé imagine I'm lazy and not looking
after my business if they hear of no commotions. That black fellow you
sent me the other day, Don Ernesto--the fellow that was molesting a mad
woman in the camp--- I've got him seventeen years in the line for that.
I wish you would send me a few more, for hardly a letter comes from
Santa Fé in which I am not asked to send in recruits, so hard up are
they for Provincial soldiers."
Just then a poor Italian colonist came up, hat in hand. He, too, and all
his class were pioneers in those days, and God knows what they suffered.
"Well, what d'ye want?" asked my companion.
"Sir," said the wretched man, stuttering in his nervousness, "one of my
bullocks has been stolen, and I know the thief. I have been to the
Justice of the Peace, and he told me to bring the thief to him; but,
sir, the th-thief refuses to come."
"_Bueno_! Ten dollars, and ten dollars _down_," roared the majesty of
law.
"But, sir,----"
"No! But me no buts! Ten dollars at once, or I'll call the sergeant to
lock you up until you can get it."
I could see that the poor fellow's heart was breaking as he drew the
money from his pocket and handed it over. Smilingly the bully turned to
me and said, as his victim walked slowly away, "I'll bet you that that
man doesn't come around to molest me again. I'll guarantee to you, Don
Ernesto, that there isn't a district in the whole province where so few
appeals for justice are made."
At last it was dinner-time, and, being ushered into a dirty room with a
brick floor, dim light and grimy tablecloth, I seated myself at the
table with my host, his secretary, the doctor, and a clerk. The dinner
was in the usual native style of those days: ribs of beef roasted on
the gridiron, beef and pumpkin boiled together, to finish up with
"caldo," which is simply the water in which the beef and vegetables have
been boiled, with a good thick coating of grease.
No sooner had we begun dinner than it was noticed that we had no wine.
"No wine! How's this? What d'ye mean?" as he angrily turned to the
sergeant who was waiting.
"If you please, sir, So-and-so and So-and-so," mentioning the name of a
local firm of storekeepers, "say that they can supply no more wine until
they can get some of their accounts settled."
"How dare you bring me such a message as that! Take the corporal with a
couple of men and bring a half-barrel at once--in less than three
minutes, or I'll know the reason why."
The barrel was brought, and, with a bit and brace, quickly tapped, and
the wine set flowing round the table.
The dinner dragged on and on, until I thought he meant us to sit there
all night. Ten o'clock came, half-past, and then eleven. Then I began to
smell a rat. I kept on urging the necessity for action, but it became
more and more evident that the Chief was fooling. He pressed wine upon
all and upon me in particular, while he drank little himself, although
he pretended otherwise. At last, I could stand it no longer, and got up
in no very good humour to go.
"No, but stop, Don Ernesto! Where are you going? Sit down again. The
horses are not saddled yet: not even caught up. Sit down and have
patience and we'll all go with you in good time."
It was after twelve when at last we made a start. There were the Chief,
the sergeant, a corporal, four men, and myself. We rode slowly in a
northerly direction until we came to a small gate in the fence, of which
I had the key. All the way thither the Chief, while commending me for my
forethought in bringing arms, had been impressing upon me the importance
of not using them, no matter what happened, "Because, you see, you are
not an arm of the law, and if you were to shoot anyone, I should be
obliged to arrest you and send you to Santa Fé."
When we got through the fence, what was my surprise when the Chief said,
"Bueno, Don Ernesto, you and I have had a long day. What I propose is
that you and I off-saddle and doss down here, while the sergeant and men
patrol with muffled bits and spurs at a short distance from the fence.
Then the moment they hear anything they can come and let us know!"
In vain I protested that this was not my idea at all, and that I too
wanted to do the patrolling, but when he told a man to take the saddle
off my horse and shake down a bed for me, I thought it wiser to
acquiesce, or, at least, appear to do so. I shall never forget that
night. How we talked and talked and talked as we lay beneath the
brilliant stars, I, boiling with rage and anxiety under my assumed
tranquillity, while he, doubtless, was as much annoyed at having to keep
me in conversation. It must have been nearly four o'clock when I told
him that I really must sleep. "Bueno," said he, as he rolled over on his
side, "hasta mañana."
In five minutes he was snoring. Even so, I did not dare to move, for
fear that he might be foxing. About an hour passed, during which he
moved, coughed, expectorated, and had other signs of conscious
animation, much to my disgust, until at last I thought the snoring
sounded too genuine to be shammed, so I crept towards him and whispered
in his ear that I thought I heard sounds of movement. But his snoring
was rhythmic and swinish, so I gathered up my saddle and gear and stole
over to my horse, which was picketed some yards off, and proceeded to
saddle him up. In doing so, my stirrups somehow clashed and thought it
was all up, for what a fool I should look if he woke and discovered me.
But it was all right: the music continued.
I led the horse for some little distance, then mounting, I rode him down
alongside the fence for about a mile until I came to a fresh gap in it.
Horror! Even though it was but what my suspicions had depicted, the
realisation came as a shock to me. "The--! The--!" To repeat my
expressions would edify no one.
Guided by the signal-lights at the station, I moved along at a smart
trot and soon recognised the quick tramping of animals ahead. Then I
drew back, and as the day was just breaking, I drew round to the west
side of the cavalcade, so that I might see without being seen. Yes, sure
enough, there were six military chacots outlined against the great sky
and a troop of animals ahead of them.
I halted to let them get well away from me, and then, with rage and
hatred in my heart, swearing vengeance all the while, I galloped as hard
as ever I could to the estancia, to impatiently await the uprising of my
boss.
"We must wire, or one of us must go to the Governor in Santa Fé at
once," I urged. But what was my disgust to be met with but a quiet smile
of amusement!
"Not if I know it," said he. "Why, good God, man, do you want to have
all our throats cut? This man is a personal friend of the Governor's,
and what satisfaction do you think we are likely to get out of that?"
"Then let us go to the Consul, the British Minister, or even to the
President of the Republic?"
A quiet smile with a negatory shake of the head was the only answer.
A fortnight later I sought him in his private sitting-room and found the
Chief of Police sitting in an easy-chair.
"Ha! ha! ha! Don Ernesto. So you caught us, did you? Well, it was worth
the fun. I never laughed so much in all my life as when I awoke that
morning and found that you had given me the slip!"
A VISIT TO THE NORTHERN CHACO.
After three years on an estancia in the vast monotonous, treeless, but
most fertile plains of the Central Argentine, under scorching sun,
driving rains, and biting wind, one feels that one would like to see a
river sometimes, animal life and more congenial surroundings; and so I
determined to visit the Northern Chaco, that enormous tract of land
which lies North of Santa Fé and stretches right away for many hundreds
of miles to North, East, and West.
Leaving Rosario by the night express, one crosses the great, slightly
undulating plains, probably among the richest in the world for the
growth of wheat, linseed, and maize, reaching Santa Fé early the
following morning. This town, the capital and Government centre of the
province, is rather an uninteresting place; chiefly noticeable in it are
the great number of fine churches and the magnificent sawmills owned by
a large French company. Santa Fé is supposed to be one of the most
religious centres in the Republic. More than once it has almost been
washed away in an eddy of the giant Parana in flood, the water rising
four feet in the houses on the highest level in the town.
After spending a day of sight-seeing in Santa Fé, we embarked at
nightfall for Vera, the headquarters of the Santa Fé Land Company's wood
department, arriving there in the early morning. The land around here
from the train appears to be a dry, salty country, devoid of herbage,
and only valuable on account of the excellent forest trees and timber.
Our morning meal was taken in the station waiting-room (the only
restaurant in the town), and consisted of cold coffee and what the
Argentine understands by boiled eggs, which have in reality been in
boiling water half a minute, and which, in order to eat, one has to tip
into a wine-glass and beat up with a fork, adding pepper and salt, etc.
This is the general way of eating eggs in South America; an egg cup is
one of the few things one cannot get in the country without going to an
English store in Buenos Aires.
Leaving Vera at 8 a.m. the train goes at a snail's pace along the branch
line to Reconquista, covering the distance of about thirty leagues in
five hours. Arriving there in the sweltering midday heat, we were met by
an English friend and his capataz, the latter dressed in his enormous
slouch hat, deerskin apron, and silver spurs weighing probably a full
kilo.
One cannot help noticing at once the different type of natives; from the
slow, slouching, don't-care kind of men, which one sees in Cordoba and
Southern Santa Fé, to the quick, straight, hawk-eyed half-Indian
Chaquenos.
Reconquista on a hot summer's day is one of the dirtiest places on this
earth, which is saying a good deal. One drives through streets two feet
deep in light sandy dust, which hangs in clouds all over the town. There
is an excellent hotel in the centre of the town, built on typical
Spanish plans with fine large open patios, which are filled with
splendid tropical plants and ferns. Having washed off the dust of three
days' travel from our weary persons, and having changed into more
suitable travelling gear, we sat down to an excellent spread.
In the cool of the evening we made a tour of the town, being most
interested in the cigar factories, where we bought excellent smokes for
$2 a hundred, all hand-made from pure tobacco leaf by the brown-hued
lasses of Reconquista.
The rest of the evening we spent in unpacking our native saddles, and
preparing everything for our long horseback journey--not having
forgotten to see that our tropilla of fifteen grey ponies were fit and
ready to make an early start next morning.
Three a.m. next morning found us out in the "corrales" having our ponies
allotted to us by the capataz--we found the tropilla on "ronda"--that
is, in a corner with a lasso tied across in front of them, the height of
their chests, and all facing outwards. This is the most general way of
teaching horses to stand in the Chaco, as, if taught to stand singly,
they would fall too easy a prey to the Indians and gauchos. In order to
saddle these ponies we had to "manear" them, that is, tie their forelegs
together, for without this they refused to let us put the blankets on
their backs.
All being ready, we started off, four of us, two in front and two
behind, with eleven loose ponies between us. By this time the sky was
beginning to grow light, and evidently the fresh morning air had
disagreed with my friend T.'s horse, which suddenly cleared down a side
street with his head between his forelegs and his back arched like the
bend in an archer's bow.
After some seconds of this amusing sight T. managed to get the pony's
head up and came along again, looking very warm and beaming; his
pink-nosed pony quite satisfied that he would have to carry more than
his own weight for some distance further.
Leaving Reconquista on the north we crossed, over an old railway
embankment, a large stretch of low country, through which a small stream
glided with winding course, and jogging along league after league we
gradually got into more interesting country: little clumps of trees with
very thick undergrowth, clinging creepers, bright-coloured flowers, and
gorgeously plumaged birds.
All along the sides of the roads were little farms, apparently
uncultivated, except for small patches of wonderfully grown maize and
browning linseed. Practically all these farms are owned by Swiss and
German peasants, each one with his small herd of cows and working
bullocks.
We changed our ponies every three or four leagues, always going at the
same jog-trot, stopping occasionally at a wayside inn to wet our parched
throats with fresh well water (with a drop of caña in it to kill the
microbes), and smoking hard all the time to keep off the swarms of
mosquitoes.
After travelling ten leagues or so we began to leave these habitations
behind us, and got into wilder country with no fences, only long
stretches of undulating land, dotted with patches of splendid-looking
trees and enticing shade.
The road occasionally crossed small streams, which gradually became more
tropical looking, until we came to quite a large river, two or three
hundred metres wide, looking beautifully peaceful and oily. Standing
above on the bank, in the shade of some magnificent quebracho trees, we
looked down upon this lazy stretch of perfect scenery, when suddenly
there was a slight disturbance in the water and a small black dot
appeared on the top of the water. The capataz at once pulled out his
revolver, all of us doing likewise, only to have to put them back again,
as the dot had disappeared as quickly as it came. This was the first
sign of wild animal life we saw, the "jacaré" or alligator. In the more
civilised parts of the Chaco, these animals, as well as the carpincho or
water-hog, are getting quite rare, and having been so much shot at and
worried they need the most careful stalking.
As we got further away, we came upon many more of these streams, all
looking much the same; some had bridges over them made of quebracho
logs, laid endways on and covered with earth, very dangerous to cross
after wet weather or floods, especially at night, as they are generally
full of holes where the earth has fallen in.
At 10 a.m. each day we unsaddled for lunch, which was generally composed
of "charque" or salted beef, biscuits, and coffee. The first night we
slept at the last habitation which we saw, a small wayside inn. Arriving
there late in the evening, we had the greatest difficulty in obtaining
entrance on account of the chorus of barking, snapping dogs, and on
account of the innkeeper's fear of drunken gauchos.
Another early start on the second day saw us well on our journey by
siésta time, which we spent on the edge of a very fine forest. The
afternoon was very hot, and we did not start off again until 4 o'clock.
During the evening we swam across a small river which we found
overflowing its banks on account of the local rains, and, as darkness
fell, we found it almost impossible to see our way on account of the
fireflies, which made such a glare in front of us that the slight track
which we had been following was almost invisible. It was a very dark
night, and once or twice we felt rain. We had to go very slowly, so that
we should not miss the track. Thus we trotted on in Indian file, each of
us now leading spare horses, in silence, except when one of us asked how
many leagues it was to the estancia, only to jog on again for what
seemed two or three hours, until almost midnight. With a cheerful yell
we suddenly came on a barbed wire fence, and after hunting about for a
time, a wire gate.
Immediately tongues seemed to be mechanically loosened and the
conversation flowed freely, discussing the ride, horses, coming
stiffness, and all the things that one has to talk about after two and
a-half days in the saddle. On reaching the estancia about 2 a.m., none
of us needed much bed, and throwing our things down on the grass
outside, we soon were dreaming of alligators, broken bridges, swimming
rivers, etc.
About 10 o'clock the next morning I awoke to find myself on a most neat
little estancia high up on a hill, overlooking, across a slight valley,
magnificent forests where one could see the glint of running water.
The house was brick floored and had four very nice rooms, which had been
colour-washed by my friends with excellent success. The ceilings at once
attracted attention, being of a deep-coloured black wood, well oiled and
seasoned. "Timbo" it is called, and is the best carving and furniture
wood in the country.
Out in the garden were oranges, lemons, citrons, pomegranates, limes,
and all kinds of luxurious fruits and vegetables. In a small fenced
paddock at the end of the garden, were sweet potatoes, pea-nuts, cotton,
tobacco, and some magnificent maize.
The men's huts were made of mud over a cane network, and the roofs were
made of split palm trees, hollowed out and made in the form of a large
~~~~~~~ the palms being placed concavely and convexly alternately,
making fine drainage for the heavy rains. The whole place was surrounded
by a ring of fine chaco paraiso trees and "ombu." The horse corrals were
all _palo a pique_, that is, made of solid posts, stuck in close
together side by side, and about two metres high, with no wire.
The camp was more or less on the real banks of the Parana, sloping away
to the river four leagues away, and forming one of the most fertile
spots in the Republic. This low-lying land is the finest and cheapest
grazing in the north, but it is unreliable because it is quite inundated
in time of floods, when the cattle have to be withdrawn to higher camp.
During various excursions on the following days we saw tracks of
"tigers" (leopard) and "lions" (puma); the kill of the latter, a small
gazelle buck, "guasuncho," we found neatly covered up with grass and
leaves, and easily distinguishable from the tiger's kill, which is
always left uncovered. A very fine tiger's skin was brought in one
night, measuring 1.84 metres from the tip of the nose to the root of the
tail, and 1.56 metres across. The man had suddenly come across it while
on foot in the monte, and after wounding it with his Winchester had run
it down with his dogs and killed it.
One evening we caught sight of a tapi (tapir) coming down to drink, but
were unable to shoot on account of the bad light. Each day we saw many
wild pigs ("chancho moro") and various kinds of wild cats, including the
splendid "gato once" or ounce cat, whose skin is one of the finest, and
only to be compared with the "lobo" or golden otter, which has a most
magnificent fluffy pelt with a golden tint on the tips. The latter is
unfortunately getting very rare now.
The great wolf or "aguaras" is still common, and is a very stately
beast, as he slopes along with his hind-quarters well under him, with
pricked ears and shaggy black mane.
The forests here are mostly in long strips and clumps, with excellent
pasture land between them; and they contain, among other commoner chaco
trees, lance wood, four crowns, and tala. Amongst the strange trees
there is one enormous broad-leafed tree called "guapoij," which has long
creeping roots, which cling on to neighbouring trees and gradually pull
them down and absorb all their goodness, killing them, and in some
marvellous way apparently eating them up. One finds occasionally one of
these trees embracing another bigger than itself, and gradually rooting
it out of the ground.
On all low ground one generally finds "Zeibos"--a tree with very soft
wood and very pretty branches of scarlet flowers.
The wild apricot or "ijguajay" grows everywhere, and looks a very
tempting fruit, fatal, however, to most Europeans, as it is a very
powerful purge. The Indian children eat the fruit with joy, and it
apparently has no bad effect on them.
The forests are full of all kinds of animals, and, in addition to those
already mentioned, there are red deer, black and brown monkeys, and
bear, and the ring-tailed coons, which latter make noises like the
grunting of pigs.
Of ground game there are foxes, tattoo or mulita, armadillo, and
ostriches.
Amongst the birds the most common are various kinds of hawks, including
some very much like the great bustard, English brown buzzard, and osprey
falcon, and two or three kinds of parrots and cockatoos, the green
parrots being the curse to agriculturists, eating all the maize, as the
locusts do in the South.
There are many different kinds of "carpinteros" or woodpeckers, most of
them having most wonderful plumage of brown, green, scarlet, blue, and
yellow.
A strange bird which is not often seen is the "tucan," a small black
bird, with a beak almost as big as his body, and of a splendid orange
colour with a scarlet tip; he is a top-heavy looking little chap when
seen seated on an orange tree, his favourite haunt.
Amongst table birds there are grey pheasants, martinetta, and
partridges. Of wild fowl, there are enormous varieties, including the
"pato real" or great tree duck, whistling mallard, various kinds of teal
and shovellers, widgeon, muscony and hooded duck, black-headed geese,
grey geese, and swans. Amongst water-birds are the black, grey, and
white "garza" or heron. The latter are especially valuable on account of
the splendid feathers on the back of their necks. Of the smaller birds
there is the gallinetta, a kind of landrail, the curse of hunters
shooting wild duck, their wretched screech warning every bird in the
district. The beautifully coloured and almost transparently winged
golden moorhen covers every stretch of water inland, and the "chaja" or
wild turkey, one of the most useless birds in the Chaco, and quite
uneatable, sends forth his dismal cry "chaja."
The kingfishers are, perhaps, the most noticeable of all the river
birds, and are of all sizes, from the small European variety to one
almost ten times their size. Gorgeously plumaged, they skim, like
flashes of light, over the water, which is full of all kinds of fish
including "Dorado," a splendid fighting fish, excellent eating, which
can be caught with rod or fly, and goes up to 10 kilos in weight;
"Suravi," a great mud fish, which is seen sometimes basking out of
water, weighing up to 50 kilos, with enormous head, and good eating;
"Savala," the mud-eating cruiser, which one sees nearly always with its
tail out of water, and which makes excellent revolver shooting;
"Palmieta," the curse of the Chaco streams and rivers, making bathing
unadvisable on account of its hostile assaults on the extremities of all
foreign bodies; and the "rallo," or sun fish, a large flat fish with a
long tail.
Thus was spent a week of happy days of excursions and explorations,
where sometimes we had to walk through great distances of undergrowth
and the everywhere-abundant prickly cactus, cutting our way with large
cavalry swords, always with our eyes skinned to catch sight of some
strange bird, beast, or flower. Sometimes we waded for miles through
swamps, which, in some places, abound with enormous water snakes up to 6
metres long.
We put up all kinds of water-fowl, as we struggled on, splashing
through rivers, clambering up and skeltering down slippery banks,
reaching home tired and weary every night to recount all the day's
doings, sitting out in the patio in the cool evening, eaten up by
mosquitoes.
So ended my holiday, with hurried packing, much toast-drinking, and a
final little farewell dance to the accompaniment of guitar, gramophone,
mouth-organ, and accordion. The journey south was of no great interest,
half on horseback, half in "galera," or public mail coach, with, as
fellow passengers, a German traveller, a curé (most jovial of beings,
who had brought enough food with him to feed a whole regiment), a head
of police and his men, and two coach boys.
The coach, with five young horses tied in abreast, went bumping and
jolting along hour after hour, until we came to a big river,
unfortunately in flood. The horses were unhitched, tied together and
swum across; a boat coming from some unseen corner, took passengers and
luggage across, leaving the coach itself alone, with a long wire tied to
the end of the pole. The horses were fastened to the end of this wire on
the other side of the river, and then, with a whoop and a cheer, the
coach tumbled head-over-heels into the raging flood, twisting and
turning in all ways, first one side up and then the other, until at last
it reached the near bank. And so we travelled on, back to civilisation;
a tiring journey in dust and heat by rail, bringing us home to the same
old flat, treeless, priceless plains of the Central Argentine, to dream
for many days of birds, fishes, animals, flowers, trees, good friends,
and the fine natives of the Northern Chaco.
WORK IN THE WOODS.
WORK IN THE WOODS.
The worker in the forests is of necessity an early riser, the nature of
his task requiring that he should be up betimes. His preparations for
breakfast are simple, and he is ready to start out after half an hour
spent in imbibing a few matés full of yerba infusion. The cartmen tie in
their bullocks, kept overnight in a corral, and drive off to bring in
wood prepared by the axemen, the bullock-herd takes his charges to
pasture and the men's employer mounts his horse to visit the camp of his
axemen, or goes to the store to fetch meat and provisions. The axemen
generally live in tents or temporary shelters, convenient to their work,
and some distance from the contractor's rancho. They have to work hard,
stripped to the waist in summer; they fell the trees, and either square
the logs for baulks and sleepers, or cut the bark and outside layer of
white wood off to make logs for export, working by moonlight when the
heat of the day is excessive. Their food consists of biscuits, called
Galleta, dried to the consistency of flint; these they soften in soup
made from fresh meat or dried "Charki." To this soup is added rice,
maize, or "Fido's," which is coarse macaroni.
The favourite roast, called the "Asado," is made from ribs of beef
impaled on a stick and placed near the fire till sufficiently cooked.
This delicacy, usually as hard as nails, is enjoyed by the men, who cut
off portions, which they hold in their teeth, while, with a jack-knife,
mouthfuls are sawn off close to the nose, at the risk of shortening that
organ. Water is drunk, or coffee sweetened liberally with moist sugar.
This coffee is made in the country, chiefly from beans or maize, with a
large percentage of chicory to give it body.
It is picturesque to see a long string of carts enter a deposit to the
sound of pistol cracks from long whips, and to watch the cartmen unload
the heavy logs.
A cartman will load his cart with logs of a ton and upwards, each with
the aid of his team of bullocks, placing the chains so that the animals,
at the desired moment, by advancing a short distance, roll the log from
the ground on to the cart. In the case of very heavy logs the cart is
placed upside down on the log, which is then bound to it, and the
bullocks pull the whole thing over. The distances which have to be
covered by these carts are considerable, fifteen miles in the day is not
unusual, changing bullocks once en route, but a great deal depends on
the roads being dry, as in wet weather the wheels sink up to the hubs in
the mud and the roads are soon dotted here and there with loads
abandoned till better conditions enable them to be reloaded and
delivered at a depository.
These cartmen are hardy fellows and work wet to the skin, covered with
mud up to their knees, or, again, hidden in the dust from the roads,
which envelopes the moving carts in a choking cloud.
It is little to be wondered at if the axemen and cartmen, when pay day
arrives, go in for a spree, which for them usually takes the form of
gambling, enlivened by dancing and drinking till daylight.
The result of sojourning in the woods does not, as might be expected,
have the effect of making these men unsociable, and they embrace every
opportunity of attending a race meeting or dance. When the men are
excited by drink quarrels are frequent, and the police search them for
arms before admitting them to a Re-union.
Arms are carried ostensibly as a precaution against meeting with
Indians and bad characters in the lonely recesses of the forest, and the
men like to carry a knife and a good revolver, or, better still, a
Winchester, to enable them to get a shot at any wild animal they may
come across, the skins of these being much prized. They take a pleasure
in presenting a visitor with a puma skin or other trophy of the chase.
Among these people one looks for, and finds, the primitive idea of
hospitality, an unaffected welcome and willingness to give of the best
they have. Here are men independent by virtue of their labour, which
gives them sufficient for their daily wants. They have no thought for
the morrow or what will be their lot when too feeble to work.
The axemen, who are natives of Italy and Austria, are very good workmen,
but compare unfavourably with natives of the country, being extremely
dirty in their persons, to such a degree that it is a disagreeable
experience to have to interview them in an office, whereas the Argentine
native puts on his best apparel when he goes to an estancia.
The forest workers are nomads, and, as the woods get cut out, move on to
fresh camping grounds, leaving the woods to revert to their former
solitude, a haunt for the wild animals, who creep back once silence has
returned.
CACHAPÉS, AND OTHER THINGS.
CACHAPÉS, AND OTHER THINGS.
To a man coming from the Southern Camps to the forest belt of Santa Fé,
the cachapé must appeal as something peculiar to the district, and most
essentially local. He has had a surfeit of carts with two wheels, each
12 feet high, and dragged by anything from sixteen to twenty-eight
horses; Russian carts, like Thames punts on four wheels, no longer amuse
him, while American spring carts are much too European to warrant
unslinging the Kodak. But the cachapé--here is something not to be
lightly passed over. Lying idle it may not strike him at first sight as
a cart, but rather as a remnant of some revolution, when, tired of
waging light operatic war, the army disbanded, leaving their
gun-carriages to serve more peaceful purposes.
Two pairs of short, squat, enormously powerful wheels; between, and
joining them, a roughly hewn pole and various chains in an apparently
hopeless tangle. Yet see them in work--every niche doing its work, every
chain taking ten per cent, more strain than it was ever intended to
take, creaking, groaning, crashing into holes, crawling laboriously over
snaps and trunks to fall again with its load of four tons with a
jerking, swaying, and straining as though struggling to free itself from
its load, and you recognise the _raison d'être_ of the queer little
cart.
The capaché is not without its humorous moments. Supposing the cartmen
find a log too heavy to load in the ordinary way; they do not return and
inform the boss that the log must be hoisted by mechanical means or
propose high-priced cranes. Seeing that obviously they can't put the log
on the cart, they accept the alternative and put the cart on the log,
chain it on securely, then haul everything right side up again with the
bullocks and proceed to the unloading station. Once there, it might be
supposed that they would tumble the cart over again, but here the
intelligent foreigner is misled. The correct proceeding now is for the
cartmen to lie on their backs and push with their feet, after the manner
of the gentlemen in music halls, who, reclining on sawed-off sofas,
twiddle gold-spangled spheres with their toes; only our cartmen lie in
water and mud and the gold-spangled sphere is changed for a three-ton
log. The force the men can exert in this position is little short of
marvellous. Out one crawls, reviews the situation, then back again
under, a creak, a combined push, and over the wheels comes the log,
throwing up the mud and water for 50 feet around. Then back they go
again for another load six miles through the forest. Wet through, their
clothes hanging in ribbons from shoulders and belt, one day's mud caking
on another's, and with a long sword stuck through their belt in front,
they present a figure comical enough were it not that one knew the other
side of the picture.
Reeking with inherited consumption, they live the one life which is
certain to kill them before they are forty. Wet through and chilled,
they are called upon again and again to suddenly exert enormous
strength, since no man can desert his cart. He must "get there." He must
get out of his trouble. He eats largely when and how he can, and when he
has saved any money the merry "Taba" bone charms it from him in a way
too universal perhaps to call for any remark. Sometimes he finishes his
carting days through too decided opinions as to the other man's
integrity in playing "Taba"; sometimes on his canvas bed in a hut of mud
and branches, his browny yellow face and sunken eyes asking no pity,
betraying no emotion; in either case he is rarely over thirty-five and
often leaves a wife and children.
I say "wife and children," since it sounds the usual thing; but, as a
matter of strict fact, the ceremony of getting married is deprecated
among them, as it signifies "Putting on side," and is only resorted to
when they are in a village and there is a chance that the presents that
are given will more than compensate the tremendous expense they have to
go to. Speaking to a gentleman of this kidney, I was informed that when
the cross-eyed blacksmith Strike got married, it cost him three dollars
and a-half (say 5s.) in fire crackers alone, and my informant went on to
say that the only case he knew of where marriage had been really
successful was that of the fair-haired carpenter, who was married and
asked all the bosses on the place, who each gave something, with which
he was able to buy a sewing machine for the eldest girl, then aged six.
But, mark you, lest you should judge them lightly, remember that their
unwritten pact is just as binding to them as our formal marriage tie is
to us, and that in their way they are probably better husbands and
fathers than your Balham clerk. In their young days they may chop and
change, which changes are generally marked by little iron crosses in the
woods, but, once they have settled down, desertion is far rarer than in
civilised countries. I have seen a native workman with his shoulder
blade in his arm-pit, his face cut to ribbons, and with pieces of
casting sticking to his back through the carrying away of a crane, cavil
against the idea of being taken into the township where the doctor was,
lest his old woman, unused to a town life, should find the surroundings
uncongenial. This in a broken, muttered whisper, twelve hours after the
accident had happened, during which time every new arrival had been
called upon to witness the peculiar nature of his injuries.
Much has been said about the terrible wickedness of the lower-class
native, his gambling, his immorality, his almost fanatical desire to
murder everyone he sees; and for complete and detailed lists of crimes
and monstrosities appeal to any newcomer, who will be delighted to hold
forth on the subject; but when one has lived with them and worked with
them under varying conditions, and has suffered in some degree what they
suffer, one hesitates to condemn them offhand.
Blackguards they are--but manly, humorous blackguards. Immoral, one must
confess them to be, according to our lights, but even in England "Custom
from time immemorial" is held as law.
The vast majority will steal raw hide gear as a cat steals fish, but
will not touch your money, much as in a community of young men property
is common to all with the same exception. They will lie if scared, or
rather will substitute for the truth something they think you would like
to hear, and they will do as little work as you will let them.
But, have a bad case of sickness in the house and ask a man to go out at
midnight with the carriage to get the doctor, or to go on horseback on
his own horse twenty miles for medicine, and he goes as quietly and
pleasantly as though he were going about the most commonplace work. He
expects no tip, no extra wage, nor is he lauded as a hero. He may have
come down, horse and all, in the dark, but is happy if he has not
smashed the bottle of medicine, and he resumes his work on return, just
as if he hadn't been up all night riding at a hard canter over broken
ground full of holes and snags.
No, he is by no means an ideal worker, neither is he half so bad as he's
painted, and I'd rather meet him in the next world than lots of men who
boss him in this.
MY FRIEND THE AXEMAN.
MY FRIEND THE AXEMAN.
Eighty square leagues of dense forest. One is inclined to feel a trifle
small and overcome when this fraction of Mother Earth is put into one's
hands (metaphorically), with orders to know all about it and to be able
to answer all questions as to what is going on in it.
The work is like most other occupations: not quite so romantic as it
sounds at first, but as interesting as one cares to make it.
One's main employment can best be illustrated by a leaf out of a mental
diary.
Fulano de Tal, axeman, wants credit for provisions at the almacen or
general store--Has he sufficient wood cut to warrant it? It is the
Mayor-domo's business to find out.
With this end in view, he rides along "The Mangy" watercourse till he
comes to the lowland of "The Blind Cow." The barking of half a dozen
mongrel curs leads him into the edge of the forest, and he comes upon
the residence of Fulano de Tal. The man has perhaps recently moved to
this spot, and has not had time or energy to build himself a "rancho,"
and therefore the homestead consists of about four yards of canvas
stretched across the branch of a tree like the roof of a tent.
Beneath this is a "New Home" sewing machine, a Brummagem bedstead, and a
small trunk, made burglar-proof by innumerable bands and fastenings of
bright tin, or even gilt wall-paper. Scattered around are the little
Fulanos, in costumes varying from nothing to very little.
Their mother ceases her cooking operations, wipes her hands on the
nearest child's head, and invites the visitor to dismount.
He answers that he is looking for her husband, and she directs him with
a sweep of the hand which covers a quadrant of the compass and includes
several square leagues of thick forest. Taking a likely track, however,
he soon hears the ring of axe-strokes, and finds his man patiently
chipping away at a felled tree, which is rapidly taking the form of a
baulk, with the sides as smooth as if sawn.
His horse is tied up near, and he takes the Mayor-domo through his
"corte," showing him the wood prepared for the carters. Give him a
chance and he will count every log twice (most likely he has already
plastered mud over the marks which show the rotten patch in the wood,
and is wondering whether he has cleared the black sufficiently off a
piece of "campana" to persuade a reasonable man that it is really fresh
wood).
It is part of the inspector's stock in trade to know these and a myriad
other tricks, too numerous to take separately.
The typical axeman in the Santa Fé Chaco is more genuinely "childlike"
than, and quite as "bland" as, the famous Celestial. He never quite
grows up; he will spend his last dollar on a mouth-organ when he is
forty, and give a wild war-whoop of delight as a stack of newly piled
sleepers falls crashing to the ground.
He loves sweets and the bright clothes which he wears with childish
dignity on feast-days and holidays.
His _amour propre_ is tremendous, and influences his code of honour to a
great extent. The first ten commandments he will break most cheerfully,
but the eleventh--"Thou shalt not be found out"--he respects to the best
of his power.
Stealing, for instance, he regards as a pastime, but call him a thief
and you must be prepared for trouble. A perfect instance of this can be
quoted in the case of an estanciero who found a peon wearing one of his
shirts.
[Illustration: _Square Quebracho Logs worked by the Axeman, showing
Resin oozing therefrom._]
"You are wearing my shirt," said the master. "No, Señor; I bought it in
the store." "But you stole it from me," insisted the estanciero,
pointing to the tab at the front, where his name was written in marking
ink; "there is my name on it."
The man, being quite illiterate, had not reckoned on such damning
evidence, but he recovered himself and replied with dignity: "Very well,
Señor; if it is yours, take it; _but don't call me a thief_."
Honesty is with them, admittedly, a matter of degree. A man will always
say if questioned about some small deficiency, "Do you think I would
swindle you for a matter of two dollars?" or "Do you think I would risk
my credit with the Company for the sake of _one_ calf?" To be honest in
a case where a larger profit is involved is a height of integrity to
which he does not even pretend. "I am going to be frank with you"--that
is an expression which puts the wise man on his guard, for it is
generally followed by a cascade of lies.
Business must be done on a completely different basis to that which
obtains in England. To return to our friend Fulano, for instance: he
wishes perhaps to ask for an increase of fifty cents per ton on his
wood, and introduces the subject by a short conversation about the
points of his horse, passing on to the bad state of the bullocks and
enlarging on the chance of a rainy winter. You have just decided that he
has nothing more to say and are preparing to leave him, when he makes
his request with as much circumlocution as possible. To have come
straight to the point would have been contrary to all his ideas of
correct procedure.
I have heard two natives make one another's acquaintance with a bout of
verbal sparring which an Englishman would obviate by a single sentence,
such as "Good morning; Mr. Brown, I believe?" "Yes," the other would
answer, and the business would be entered upon immediately.
The Spanish blood, however, calls for some such dialogue as the
following, which is taken from real life.
_A._--"Good day."
_B._--"Good day."
_A._--"How are you, Señor?"
_B._--"Very well, thank you, Señor; how are you?"
_A._--"Very well, thank you."
_B._--"I am glad."
_A._--"Equally."
_B._--"Don't mention it."
_A._--"I am speaking to Mr. Juan Sosa?"
_B._--"At your service."
_A._--"At yours."
_B._--"Equally."
_A._--"It gives me great pleasure to know you."
_B._--"Equally."
They are flowery always, whether in greeting, praise, commendation, or
in denunciation.
In illustration of the last point, I once heard a cartman give vent to a
quite Olympic challenge.
His cart had stuck in a deep rut up to the axles, and he commenced
operations by addressing his bullocks with tender words and soft names
swiftly followed by lurid curses. This proving useless, he invoked
higher powers, and called on his pet saints by name--"Help me, San
Pedro, San Geronimo, Santa Lucia, San Juan." Still no result:--
Then his patience failed entirely--"If you won't help me, San Pedro," he
shouted, "come down and I'll fight you;" "Come down, San Juan, and I'll
take you both on together."
Still no reply.
Taking his hat off he placed it on the ground, made the motion of
clawing his guardians from the skies and placing them in his hat.
"Stay there, San Geronimo; Stay there, San Juan; Stay there, San Marco."
When his hat was full enough for his satisfaction he leapt into the air,
came down on it with both feet, and continued to dance on it for about
three minutes.
Thus, for a real or imagined slight, the streak of black blood will show
up and convert a friend into a relentless enemy.
It is not surprising when one considers the lack of civilising
influences which ought to be exerted from the top downwards, but which
have no root in the highest power they know, which is the arm of the
law. It might be interesting to note a few proofs of the corruption
which exists among those who wield the local weapons of justice--among
the commissaries, police, and justices of the peace.
The Chief of Police of----, for instance, a town of only about 7,000
inhabitants, refused £2,000 a year for the local gambling rights.
Again, a gardener, whom I knew, was put in jail for being drunk and
disorderly. On going to the place some time later I found the man still
imprisoned. "Why," I asked, "for such a small offence"? "We found," was
the answer, "that when sober he was such a good workman that we could
not spare him from the job of cleaning the stables."
On the other hand, a friend of mine was dissatisfied with the policeman
he had, and sent the sergeant into the township to exchange him for
another. The man returned with a particularly villainous-looking
specimen, and when asked where he had got him, explained that the Chief
of Police had told him to look among the prisoners for a suitable man,
give him a uniform and take him.
"I thought this was the best of them; but they all wanted to come," he
concluded ingenuously.
Another commissary in the north of this country flattered himself on his
revolver-shooting, and used to perform the feat of shooting the hat off
a man's head without hurting him. He was in the local bar one day when a
peon entered with a brand new white hat; it was an opportunity not to be
missed. Crack--and the man fell with a bullet through his temple instead
of his hat.
Did the Comisário stand stricken with remorse, or burst into
self-reproach? No. He moved the body with the toe of his boot and
remarked: "Carramba, I am getting a very poor shot nowadays."
A story which was told me in the province of Rio Negro, and which was
well vouched for, contained serio-comic elements of which I believe the
perpetrator, whom I knew personally, quite capable.
An old man who owned a considerable quantity of land, died intestate. A
man who lived with him, Garcia by name, had no idea of letting the
property go to distant unknown relations, and concocted the following
plot (obviously with the connivance of the neighbouring Justice of the
Peace, who was a friend of his).
The law allows that a sane man "in articulo mortis," and past the power
of speech, may make statements by signs: so when the Justice was
summoned to the house, Garcia told him that the man was not yet dead,
and wished to make his will.
Garcia seated himself at the foot of the bed, while the Justice at the
side addressed questions to the deceased on the following lines:--
"Do you wish me to record your last will and testament?"
The corpse nodded.
"Do you wish your property to pass into your cousins' hands?"
The head moved from side to side.
"Do you intend to make Garcia your sole legatee?"
The deceased nodded several times.
Two witnesses were brought, and the business was settled with
commendable promptitude.
I think it was Garcia himself who explained, some time afterwards, that
as the dead man wore a full beard and whiskers, it was easy enough to
hide the strings passing from his ears and chin to the foot of the bed
under the coverings.
In this connection I have since heard that one of the legal ceremonies
in a coroner's inquest in Central America is to solemnly ask the
deceased who killed him.
To return to the point, however; if such things exist among those in the
highest positions of trust it is not surprising to find wholesale
chicanery among the lower orders; that they realise their shortcomings
is evidenced by the fact that if they wish to impress you with the truth
of a statement, they add "palabra de Ingles," i.e., "on the word of an
Englishman."
Their Indian descent is answerable for a great deal, the white and black
blood being so mixed that it is almost impossible to note the dividing
line. Their dusky ancestors were blessed with an extremely limited
intelligence, only being able to count up to four. The following
incidents were related to me by an old estanciero. He once saw a
trainload of Indian prisoners who had had oranges given them throwing
the skins against the windows and showing great surprise when they fell
inside.
In another instance a woman came with her daughter to place her in
domestic service at the estancia, and as the mother did all the talking,
the estanciero's wife asked if the daughter could speak Spanish.
"Oh, yes," answered the mother, "but she is barefoot, and would not
presume to talk Spanish unless she had shoes on."
This same girl at first insisted on turning up the carpet whenever she
entered a room and walking along the boards at the side.
I fear that I have given a black character to the people I work among,
but there are lights as well as shades, and I have had many a weary
hour's ride wiled away by the philosophy and anecdotes of some peon or
small contractor, without mentioning the enjoyment of that hospitality
which is a characteristic of the nation.
Beside a camp fire, under the stars, while the maté pot passes from hand
to hand, or when huddled under a horse cloth with the rain dousing the
last embers, I have found the Correntino, or Santa Fecino, a cheery and
uncomplaining companion, who compares well with the recently arrived
Englishman, who, under the same circumstances, is generally sleepy or
bad tempered.
Treat him well and he will treat you well, but if it is necessary to
chasten him for his soul's good, keep your hand a little nearer to your
revolver than his is to his knife.
DUST AND OTHER STORMS.
DUST AND OTHER STORMS.
Life in South America has many and varied experiences, though not so
uncomfortably exciting perhaps to-day as they were, when more than three
years seldom passed without a revolution of some kind, either national
or provincial. The year 1893 was marked by two revolutions in Rosario,
the first provincial and the second national, with perhaps little more
than two months between them. It sounds terribly alarming to hear that a
revolution has broken out, and pictures of the French Revolution
immediately rise before one, but, fortunately, those of South American
cities are not of that calibre; reports and rumours fly about of the
terrible things that are going to be done, but these generally end in
rumour, and after a few persons, those who have nothing to do with the
movement, have been killed, probably by soldiers letting off their
rifles up some street just on the chance of hitting something (often
that at which they are _not_ aiming), the revolution fizzles out very
quickly.
In the second revolution of 1893 great excitement was caused in Rosario
by a revolutionary gunboat being pursued by a Government boat and a
naval battle (!) being fought on the river outside Rosario. These two
boats blazed away at each other till the revolutionary gunboat was
reduced to a wreck; the Government boat then threatened to turn its guns
on Rosario unless the revolutionists capitulated. The town was given
twenty-four hours to decide, and, after various disasters, including a
terrible battle, had been threatened, as usual the revolution came to a
sudden end, on this particular occasion owing to the revolutionist
leader, D. Alem, committing suicide. That same year, 1893,
distinguished itself by drawing to a close with three of the most
terrible dust storms ever seen in a country that, after any lengthened
period of dry weather, suffers from dust storms of a greater or lesser
degree. The first of these occurred early in December, after many months
of drought, on a brilliantly sunny afternoon. Standing at the front door
of a house at Fisherton, a suburb about six miles from Rosario, we
noticed right down in the S.W., on the horizon, great banks of
grey-looking clouds, which, to our surprise, seemed to be rolling
rapidly up the sky towards us. They had a most alarming appearance, for
these masses of grey cloud approaching so rapidly seemed to portend a
storm of terrible force. In less than twenty minutes from the time we
first saw the clouds the afternoon had changed from brilliant sunshine
to pitchy darkness. So rapidly had the darkness come on us that no one
was prepared, and no matches or lights were forthcoming; so there we
stood in a room in absolute darkness, no glimmer of light even revealing
where the windows were situated in the room. Though all doors and
windows were closely shut, we could feel the dust entering in clouds
through the cracks, making it quite unpleasant breathing. When the storm
caught us we had to stand and wait, I must own with some fear as to how
it was going to end. Up to this time the storm had come up and fallen on
us in total silence: now, after about ten minutes of pitch darkness, we
could hear in the far distance the wind coming. It came up with cyclonic
force, and then everything in the way of tins and buckets began to be
blown in every direction, and the horses to gallop about neighing,
evidently very much frightened. The wind was the forerunner of the rain,
which gradually began to clear the air, though, of course, for some time
it rained mud, much to the detriment of the houses, and to anyone
unfortunate enough to be caught out of doors in the storm; indeed, one
of our friends, who insisted on starting for the station just as the
storm descended on us, was found crouching under his umbrella by one of
the posts of the railway fence, with a face as black as a sweep's, and,
by then, deeply repentant that he had started for the station against
advice. Indeed, many caught out in camp by the storm lost their lives
through falling into wells, and, in some cases, the river. But,
fortunately, nowadays--principally, I fancy, owing to the larger area of
country under cultivation--these dust storms do not recur.
LOCUSTS.
During the past century considerable study has been centred upon the
life and habits of the locust, mainly from the desire to seek its
subjugation and destruction, and, whilst much general biological
information has been written upon the subject, there are things which we
do not yet know about this insect or its habits. We do not know what
precise influences cause their migration, nor do we know what is the
exact length of life of the locust or its breeding power, or the precise
locality in any country which may be defined as its permanent abode.
Locusts are classified under the order of orthopterous insects of the
family Acrydiidae, and are very closely related to grasshoppers.
There are a large number of species, the differentiating features being
more or less the form and sculpture of protorax, the size of the head,
the length and size of the prosternal spine, the comparative length and
size of the hind thighs and shanks, the amount and arrangement of the
tegmina mottlings, the comparative length of wings, and the general
build of the entire insect, which may be robust or fairly slender.
A general description of the distinctive physical features of migratory
locusts might be given as a strong, wild-looking head, a strong collar
inside which the neck moves, powerful and peculiarly-formed legs
attached to a short, strong, square trunk or thorax, four wings, two
antennae or feelers, six legs, and a long segmentary abdomen. The ground
colour of the locust is generally brownish, straw, or red, but its
colour varies somewhat according to the particular season of the year
or some other peculiar circumstance, but nothing certain is known as to
what influences the shade of colour. Mere ground colour is immaterial
and does not signify a new species.
Besides having a pair of compound eyes which form so noticeable a
feature in its head, there are three other simple little eyes, placed
like shining dots at three angles of a triangle below the two feelers.
The mouth, which is a fearful apparatus, consists of nine distinct and
well-marked organs; an interior or upper lip, consisting of a plate
deeply cleft and capable of opening enormously; two true jaws or
powerful mandibles; and two pairs of jointed organs called (maxillary)
palpi, and two lower jaws. The mandibles and jaws move laterally from
right to left.
The thorax or trunk consists really of three rings. To the first is
attached the two front legs; to the second, the two middle legs and the
first pair of wings, and to the third, the two hind legs and the second
pair of posterior wings. Along the posterior margin is a well marked
serrated (spinous) arrangement by means of which the locust adheres and
grips forcibly. The trunk appears to be full of a fatty sort of
substance.
The abdomen consists of a number of horny segments which are joined
together by an elastic membrane, a construction which enables the insect
to extend its body several centimetres beyond its normal extent. It can
also be increased in thickness.
The front and middle feet of this insect are short and weak, but the
length, strength, and formation of the hind legs enable it to take
extraordinary leaps. A full-grown locust can jump seven or eight feet in
height, whilst it is said to be able to leap more than 200 times the
length of its body.
The female is normally larger by 1/4 or 1/2 inch in length than the
male, and has a rather thicker body.
The average length of the migratory locust is from 2-1/2 to 3 inches and
about 3/8 inch in thickness in the abdomen. Locusts generally lay their
eggs in the spring, and the manner in which the females, having selected
a favourable site, make an excavation in the earth for depositing their
eggs is intensely interesting and wonderful.
At the very extremity of the abdomen the female has two pairs of horny
valves or hooks, each pair placed back to back with their points
directed outwards, and arranged so that all four hooks can be brought
with their points close together. By this means a sharp pointed lever is
formed which can be turned around, evolved, and forked. With this
apparatus she drills a small hole and by means of a series of muscular
efforts and the continuing opening and closing of the valves provided
with the formation of the abdomen, she actually bores to a depth of 6 to
7 centimetres, or about 3 inches. Here she deposits her eggs--normally
about eighty--regularly arranged in a long cylindrical mass and
envelopes them in a spumous or sort of glutinous secretion, so that the
whole are quite tapped up and level with the surface of the ground. This
substance when dried is more or less impassable and affords protection
to the eggs from the elements and secures an easy outlet to the surface
for the young locust when hatched. The eggs resemble in shape grains of
small rice and are about 1/4 inch long.
The eggs hatch in from twenty-five to sixty days, usually about forty
days, but the period may vary a little according to temperature,
humidity, etc. The young locusts are known as "hoppers," in which stage
they pass some forty-five or fifty days before arriving at the fully
developed stage known as "fliers." To reach the "flying" or "migratory"
stage they pass through six different states, changing the colour of
their skin several times, gradually approaching to full growth, and
finally growing wings.
They have no quiescent stage, and whilst they are naturally yet
incapable of flight, their locomotive powers are very considerable, and
they are very destructive, for their voracity is great. Comparatively
speaking, the flying locusts do less damage to the growing crops than
the hoppers, who devour everything clean before them.
It is interesting to state that the "hoppers" in the first stage are in
length about 7 to 9 mm., or not quite one-third of an inch, and that the
feelers have thirteen divisions, extending to twenty-seven divisions at
full growth.
During the cold weather they usually gather together in thousands,
clinging closely to all kinds of vegetation and to each other. In this
season the general rule seems to be that comparatively little food is
take
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