CHAPTER X

LIVE STOCK IN THE REPUBLIC

The constant wonder to me, as I traversed the fruitful prairies, was why

Nature had not supplied the country with indigenous live stock.

One would have thought that the forces of evolution would have provided

animals to benefit and multiply. Man, of course, has done much to

improve the land. By the laying down of alfalfa he has turned sandy

regions into rich pasturage. By irrigation he has converted wastes into

prosperous stretches. Still, there were thousands of square miles,

capable of maintaining great herds, for ages before the coming of the

Europeans. But Nature was niggardly in raising animals which the

adventures of man subsequently proved suitable to the soil.

The principal original animals were the alpaca, which provided meat and

wool, and the llama, used as a beast of burden by the natives, though

the loads it could carry were slight. Spain, when she took possession of

the country, saw its disadvantages. Though the Spanish Court was

prodigal in giving tracts of the new land to grandees and others, it is

significant that in practically all the concessions was the provision

that the grant failed unless horses, cattle, sheep, and goats were

introduced. They were for purely domestic uses.

A couple of centuries ago a bull and ten cows were abandoned. What

became of them troubled no one. Long afterwards their descendants were

found grazing, and they had increased to many thousand; now they have

increased to many millions. They were sturdy cattle, but too numerous

for the then exceedingly sparse population. Their hides, however, were

profitable for sending to Europe; and many thousands of beasts were

slain, and their carcases left to rot, in order that their skins might

be sent across the seas. In 1794 merino sheep were imported from Spain.

In 1824 Southdowns were imported from England. They made an excellent

cross, and that was the start Argentina got in the growing of wool.

There was no discovery that this part of South America was peculiarly

suitable for European stock. There was just a slow but increasing

consciousness of the fact that European animals were easily

acclimatised, and had a greater breeding capacity than at home. The

first European cattle did not come direct, but dribbled in by way of

Brazil from Peru--a roundabout route. Indeed, for several centuries

Spain, which was mistress of that part of the world, rigorously excluded

all other countries from assisting in its development or having any

share in its trade. Further, Peru, which was the most important of the

Spanish settlements, had sufficient power at the Court of Spain to

secure an insistence that all goods entering South America should do so

by the door of Peru. You have only to glance at a map to see how absurd

it was that articles intended for Buenos Aires or the east coast had to

be shipped to the Isthmus of Panama, taken across to the Pacific side by

mule caravan, shipped again down the coast to Peru, and then sent

thousands of miles over mountains, through jungle and across uninhabited

plains, to their destination. This intolerable condition of things,

which Spain refused to change, had much to do with Argentina's casting

off the yoke, in the beginning of the nineteenth century, and declaring

itself as a republic.

Though one hears much about the way Argentina has gone ahead as a

cattle-raising country during the last decade, one must not lose sight

of the fact that the Spaniards have been rearing cattle there for over

three hundred years. Even when the possibilities began to be realised

there were no means of land transport except by driving the beasts, and,

except for the hides and tallow and subsequently the wool, there was

little that could be sent to Europe.

In the first half of the nineteenth century, however, Argentina was

beginning to find herself. The Argentines were not content with the

quality of the animals which were bred haphazard. They took to importing

better strains from Europe, grasped what pedigree meant, began to demand

the best the world could produce, and were willing to pay for it, until

the call of Argentina for pedigree stock has almost become a mania, and

other countries have little chance when Argentina enters the market with

her bags of gold.

Not only was there a wonderful increase in cattle and sheep, but horses

multiplied. The Spanish contempt for females extends to mares, and no

self-respecting Argentine, who was not seeking the sneers of his

countrymen, would think of riding a mare. A hundred years ago European

nations had not thought of purchasing South American mares; and it has

been computed that in the first quarter of the last century over 500,000

mares were mercilessly slaughtered in Argentina. It has been said that

an enormous number of wild horses were at large, and their continued

incursions amongst the general stock caused great loss to the breeders.

But that Argentina is one of the most productive lands in the world for

horses is undoubted. They seem to have something approaching the

fertility of the Australian rabbit. Historians disagree as to whether

the first importation of horses to Argentina in the sixteenth century

were seventy-two horses and mares, or forty-four horses and mares, or

seven horses and five mares. Anyway, whilst Ruy Diaz de Guzman, who

vouched for the latter figures, wrote they had "attained such a

multiplication in less than sixty years that they cannot be counted,

because the horses and mares are so many that they appear like great

woods and occupy (the country) from Cape Blanco to the fort of Gabato,

rather more than eighty leagues, and reach inland to the Cordillera,"

the monk Fray Juan de Rivadancira, who declared for forty-four horses

and mares, states that "the coast is inhabited by a great many people,

and there is an immense number of horses that remained there from the

time of Don Pedro de Mendoza, that is forty-five years ago, forty-four

horses and mares that have multiplied themselves, but, strange to say,

in all this time they have not been seen by the Spaniards, who only know

of them from the reports of the Indians, who say that they cover the

plains to an astonishing extent." Allowing for these tales being

exaggerated, the very fact they should be recorded some fifty years or

so after the first importation of horses shows there must have been an

astonishing increase.

Argentine breeders of cattle, knowing of the care taken in Europe to

improve quality, realised that quantity was not sufficient. There would

be little merit in having millions of animals on the rich grassed plains

if commercially they were unable to compete with other countries with

their produce. So between fifty and sixty years ago they began

methodically and scientifically to improve their herds. The result was

so satisfactory that owners of herds conceived it to be their patriotic

duty--and Argentina is noisily patriotic--to raise the standard of

quality. The Argentine Agricultural Society was established. It has

increased in size and importance. Its offices at Buenos Aires have the

marks of energetic distinction, whilst its permanent show grounds in the

suburbs of the city are the finest buildings for such a purpose in

the world. I will not say, as is often said, that the display is the

finest in the world. Now and then it tops any other show in a particular

class. But it is a great show, provided by a country with only seven

million inhabitants; and, speaking generally, it is not a bad second to

any other, no matter where it is held.

[Illustration:

_Photograph by Moody, Buenos Aires._

BREAKING-IN HORSES IN THE ARGENTINE.]

There is tremendous rivalry amongst breeders, and the ambition to secure

the blue ribbons is so great that the Argentines, as I have mentioned in

a previous chapter, will not trust people of their own race to act as

judges. The judges all come from Britain, and are men of recognised

competence and integrity. They are the guests of the Society. They are

provided with first class return tickets, are entertained at the best

hotel for three weeks, have many courtesies piled on them, and each

receives £30 as out-of-pocket expenses. So keen are some Argentine

breeders to gain the coveted ribbon that I have heard of their sending

special representatives to travel on the boat from Southampton to Buenos

Aires so that an amiable judge may be "nobbled." Fortunately, British

judges are not made that way; and although stories of attempts are

common, there is no recorded instance of success.

I was present at the official opening of the show in 1913 by the

Minister of Agriculture. It was not an enthusiastic occasion. The

weather was bad and cold, and there was the reading of two interminable

speeches from manuscript--read to about a score of top-hatted and

frock-coated gentlemen standing round, looking insufferably bored and

never raising the equivalent of a single "hear, hear," whilst the crowds

in the stands heard not a word but waited patiently for the parade of

prize winners to begin.

But it was a show of cattle of which Argentina had a right to be proud.

It was another post along the road of evolution. The time is yet far off

when Argentina can rightly claim first position amongst the live-stock

nations; but it is a goal which the Argentines steadily keep in sight.

Stud farms are to be found all over the country. Prices which formerly

would have been thought reckless are now willingly paid for stallions,

bulls, and rams. Yet, though the Argentine is pleased with himself, he

does not so much boast of what he has accomplished as rhapsodise about

the future. To-day (1914) there are 8,000,000 horses in the country,

30,000,000 cattle, and over 80,000,000 sheep. Yet only a portion of the

country suitable for stock is utilised. Everything indicates that within

the next ten years 200,000,000 animals of all classes will be grazing on

the pastures of Argentina.

The love of horse-racing is bred in the bone of every man in the

country. All the big towns have their race-courses. Out on the prairies,

if there is no race-course, the men at the _estancias_ mark out a track

and race against each other's horses on Sunday afternoons. An eye is

kept on the famous European race-horses, and as much as £40,000 has been

paid for a great winner, so that he may be used for stud purposes. The

breeding of thoroughbreds has become part of the national life of the

Republic. The Jockey Club at Buenos Aires, possessed of an enormous

income, has by the offering of handsome prizes encouraged the breeding

of race-horses. The Argentine stud farms are, in excellence of stabling

and general surroundings, lavish in luxury. So successful has been the

breeding from expensive European sires that European breeders are now

looking to Argentina to purchase some of the sons.

But always, one must remember, the prosperity of Argentina rests with

her commercial cattle. As England prohibits the landing of live cattle

for fear of foot-and-mouth disease, increasing attention has been given

to the business of exporting chilled and frozen meat. The closing of

British ports and consequent slump in Argentine cattle gave a colossal

impetus to the frozen meat industry, so that at the present time the

Republic is the greatest exporter of frozen meat in the world. That,

perhaps, is the reward for Argentina's being the first country to export

chilled and frozen meat to Europe. This was as far back as 1877, though

it was not until 1885 that the first freezing works were established.

To-day something like £11,000,000, mostly English and United States

capital, is sunk in Argentine freezing houses. England is the largest

consumer. But though the quantity imported is enormous, it is a mistake

to suppose that frozen meat is yet ahead of English home-killed meat. As

a nation we are increasing meat eaters. We are now consuming something

approaching two million quarters a year. Only about a third of this is

chilled and frozen meat, and the consumption of home meat is increasing,

not decreasing.

That there is foot-and-mouth disease in Argentina is undoubted. Though

the Argentines protest we continue the cry as an excuse for keeping out

their stock from our meadows and from competing with our own fresh meat,

I was quite convinced that the disease does seriously exist in

Argentina, and that, whilst not so prevalent as occasionally alleged, it

is sufficiently bad to justify the British Board of Agriculture in

maintaining the prohibition. With care, however, I am sure the

Argentines could stamp out the evil. Its persistence is due to

carelessness. The natural conditions of the cattle, being out on the

pastures all the year round, count for healthiness. I have visited the

great canned meat establishments in Chicago, and when in Buenos Aires

and La Plata I inspected some of the biggest of the Argentine freezing

places. Though the latter lacked the magnitude of the Chicago houses, I

admit my complete satisfaction with the sanitary conditions surrounding

what, to me, is always a sickening business.

When a mob of cattle has been purchased the seller gives a guarantee of

the soundness of the animals. When they reach the stock-yard the

veterinary surgeon of the company makes inspection of each beast before

it goes to the slaughter-house. The operation is the usual one: the

animal is pole-axed, then the carcase is conveyed on a truck to a shed,

where it is hung up, bled, disembowelled, and skinned. The veterinary

surgeon makes an examination to see if he can detect disease. But this

is not enough; a piece of the meat, a few ounces, is cut off, labelled,

and sent to a laboratory, where further experiments are made. There is

much greater care taken in these slaughter-houses of Argentina in the

case of chilled and frozen meat than is usually taken at home in

providing the "roast beef of old England." The carcases are placed in a

chilling chamber, 34° Fahr., for twenty-four hours. Then they are cut in

two, each side wrapped in a cloth, and taken into the refrigerator

compartments on board a steamer. Should the investigation in the

laboratory reveal disease the carcase is burnt.

To the layman inclined to be confused between the terms "chilled" and

"frozen," it is well to explain the difference. Frozen meat is that

which has been kept well below freezing point, and can be kept for an

indefinite time. Chilled meat is not frozen, but it can be kept

wholesome for some weeks when in a low temperature. Chilled meat is of

better quality than frozen meat, and, as the Argentine ports are within

three weeks of Smithfield, her produce has a distinct advantage over

that of countries farther away, where the journey takes six weeks, and

the meat cannot be kept chilled, but must be frozen.

I am aware of the prejudice against chilled meat. Yet I suspect that

occasionally some of us, when paying for the home article, are really

receiving the foreign meat, but we do not know the difference. The

chilled meat trade--a later development than the frozen trade--has

sprung into existence in Argentina mainly during the last dozen years.

That which we get in London, whether from La Plata, Buenos Aires, or

Chicago, is of better quality than the meat the Argentine or the

American gets. The explanation is that the best meat is exported because

it has to come into competition with British beef, which admittedly is

the best in the world. The question, however, arises, what real

detriment is there to meat as the result of freezing? Professor Rideal,

of London University, who has made various experiments, has gone so far

as to declare that the nutritive and digestive qualities of Argentine

frozen meat are superior to those of the best freshly killed English

meats, and that Argentine chilled meats possess the same qualities as

English meat.

It was in 1880 that we began to receive frozen meat in any quantity from

the Argentine, and year by year the quantity has increased. Other

European countries are in need of cheap meat, and yet it is a singular

fact that nine-tenths of the cold storage meat of the world comes to

England. Just upon two hundred and fifty steamers are now engaged in

bringing chilled or frozen meat to England from Argentina, Australia,

and New Zealand. London alone has thirty cold stores with a capacity

for storing 3,000,000 carcases of mutton. South America, Australia, and

New Zealand have seventy freezing establishments, chiefly for the

purpose of supplying the British market. Satisfactory though that market

is, Argentina is not content. She is beginning to import her chilled

meat into the United States. She is making a bid for the French market.

Professor Armand Gautier, of the Academy of Science, of Paris, has

stated that the French people ought to eat a third more meat than they

do. As the French production is insufficient, he has urged the

importation of meat preserved by cold, because it can be kept almost

indefinitely, and because in times of epidemic disease in live stock, or

lack of forage, and above all in time of war, it would lend most

important service.

For a long time, however, Continental countries have been shy about

foreign meat, chiefly, I believe, because they were thinking of the

interests of the breeders at home. Frozen meat has, however, been

received in limited quantities in Italy, Switzerland, and Portugal. The

Austrian Government at first restricted the importation to 10,000 tons,

but as the meat was popular the restriction was removed. So, gradually,

frozen meat of good quality, and cheaper than native meat, is finding a

way into other European markets besides our own. The German-Argentine

Society, recently formed, has been petitioning the German Parliament for

the admission of Argentine frozen meat. The considerable

consumption of frozen meat in England is encouraging Argentina in her

ambition to contribute to the feeding of the immense artisan populations

in the industrial centres of the continent.

Now anyone who has been much at sea knows about jerked beef. The

preparation of salt beef in the old sailing days was a great business,

and Argentina's first endeavour in the meat business was the preparation

of jerked beef, as it is called. It is not going too far to say that it

was this business which opened the eyes of South Americans to the

potentialities of their country. But gradually the trade got shifted to

the neighbouring little Republic of Uruguay, with Monte Video as the

chief place of export. A great many of the cattle killed in Uruguay are

bred in Argentina. The trade has extended to Brazil. Brazil, however,

still calls for Argentine cattle. So although this dry-salting was first

practised in Argentina in South America, and the trade has to a great

extent been removed, Argentina is getting benefit because she sells

hundreds of thousands of steers to the neighbouring republics. During

the last year or two there has been a distinct movement in Argentina to

recapture the trade. There is a huge demand for jerked meat in Cuba--and

Argentina is after the business. Argentina has both eyes on the whole of

the West Indies, where there are great negro populations who, it is

supposed, would welcome this cheap kind of meat. It can be used in

tropical regions where expensive cold storage would be an impossibility.

Besides, an inferior standard of animal, scarcely suitable for

freezing, can be jerked.

The gigantic business in meat extracts carried on by such firms as

Bovril and Liebig has given a cue to the wide-awake Argentine for

another outlet to his enterprise. Indeed, the preparation of meat

extract in Argentina to-day needs the killing of 200,000 head of cattle

a year, whilst those killed for jerked beef are about three-quarters of

that number. Anyway, Argentines, whilst glad enough to have foreign

capital brought to develop their resources, are now constantly asking

themselves, "Why do not we do all this?"

The fact is not to be overlooked that Argentina has a population of

7,000,000 to feed as well as to contribute to the feeding of the outer

world. The population of the city of Buenos Aires is a million and a

half. So, whilst it needs the killing of 4,000 head of cattle every day

to keep the Republic supplied with meat, 1,800 of these are needed in

the capital.

England clings to old and sometimes unsatisfactory ways. When I visited

the abattoirs at Liniers I thought it would be no bad thing if a number

of British municipalities sent a shipload of representatives to

Argentina to study up-to-date slaughter-houses. One of the most important

features of Liniers is the veterinary pavilion, with rooms for

bacteriological and microscopical observations. There are twenty

veterinary surgeons who make it their business to examine every carcase

and stamp it before it is permitted to be sold as food. The annual

entry at the abattoir is, in round numbers, 750,000 sheep, 100,000 pigs,

and 1,250,000 cattle. Yet the animals slaughtered for local consumption

represent only three-fifths of the beasts sold in Buenos Aires, the rest

going to the slaughter-yards attached to the freezing houses. These

animals are not reared only in the province of Buenos Aires. Other

provinces supply cattle, Cordoba, Santa Fé, Entre Rios, Corrientes, and

further afield.

One of the most instructive places is the sheep market, covering 500

acres. Not only are there pens innumerable, but there are two galleries

set apart for sales so that buyers may obtain a quick bird's-eye view of

the stock offered. A police representative is constantly on duty,

keeping a lookout that the marks are all right and preventing sheep

stealing. Ten sanitary inspectors make inspection of sheep as they go

along the gangway or race. Any sheep showing signs of disease is sent to

the necropolis--supervised by the cattle division of the Ministry of

Agriculture--is killed and examined. Over 4,000,000 sheep are inspected

every year. Of these nearly 3,000,000 go to the freezing establishments

and the others are either for local consumption or are bought to be

fattened. On an average 4,000 railway wagons a month come in to Buenos

Aires filled with sheep.

More than once I was made conscious of the deep disappointment amongst

Argentine breeders that there is an embargo in Britain against the

importation of live stock. They insisted that if there were disease it

would show itself during the three weeks' sea journey, so that British

herd owners should have no fear of their own cattle being contaminated.

The Argentines cannot get it out of their minds that it is not fear of

disease, but protection for the British farmer which really actuates the

British Board of Agriculture. Notwithstanding the increase in the sale

of chilled and frozen meat, the Argentines, of course, recognise that

the Englishman would prefer fresh killed meat if he could get it at a

sufficiently cheap price. The steady increase in the price of home-grown

meat in English shops is noted, and all the strings possible are being

tugged in order to induce the British Government to relax. Besides,

there is a considerable body of opinion in Great Britain itself,

occasionally voiced in Parliament by the representatives of industrial

constituencies, favourable to the importation of foreign animals, of

course under proper inspection. Were admission granted, there would

undoubtedly be a fall in the price of meat. But, even eliminating the

natural antagonism of the British farmer, there is the consumer to be

considered. Without joining in the combat whether Argentine meat is as

good as British meat, there can be no doubt that the home buyer prefers

the home article, and in innumerable cases he is prepared to pay more

for it. There is the possibility, the danger if you like, if live stock

from Argentina were admitted, for certain graziers to buy them, give

them a week or two on English meadows, and for the retail butchers,

either in ignorance or with the intention to mislead the purchaser, to

ticket the sides as "English fed."

Though Argentines grumble at the British ports being closed to them,

causing a slump in their export of live stock, they acknowledge that the

effect has been counterbalanced by the increase in the export of frozen

meat. "Therefore why should they make such a fuss?" may be asked. Simply

because the Argentines are eager to find an outlet for the productive

capacity of their country. They do not rest on their oars. They are

looking to the future. There is no question in their minds what

Argentina can do. They do not want to be baulked by restrictions. It may

be argued that, whilst they are zealous to secure freedom for their

goods in oversea markets, they do not show any inclination to give an

equally wide freedom to the goods of other countries in their own

markets. That, however, just shows that considerations which often

influence individual traders do not disappear when the nation acts

collectively.

The point to be marked--and it is the significance of much in this

chapter--is, that although other new nations provide increasing amounts

of meat, Argentina is as alive as any of them to the growing necessity

for the industrial communities of Europe--constantly increasing whilst

agriculture stands still or slides back--to look across the oceans for

their meat supply. The meat will be wanted. Competition to supply it

will be keen. In some European countries the live stock is diminishing.

Countries which formerly did much business in supplying neighbours have

now enough to do to supply themselves. Even Switzerland, unable to

provide for her own needs, and no longer able to get what she requires

from France and Italy, has turned to Argentina. The doors are closed by

some European Powers, including Spain. But Argentina is keeping a watch

on the artisan classes in commercial Europe. She expects the day will

soon come when they will clamour for cheaper meat, and break down the

doors. When that time does come, Argentina is determined to be ready

with a full basket.

The Amazing Argentine: A New Land of Enterprise · 第 10 / 23 章