THE RIVER OF SILVER
The Rio de la Plata, the “river of silver,” is one of the great river
systems of the world. That name is properly applied only to the month of
the system, which reaches just a little above the city of Buenos Aires,
a distance of a couple of hundred miles from the Atlantic. From there it
receives the name of the Paraná, which has its source in the wilds of
Brazil. Where it pours its waters into the ocean this wonderful river is
one hundred and eighty miles in width, and at Montevideo it has narrowed
down to sixty-five miles. Opposite Buenos Aires it is still twenty-eight
miles from shore to shore. The La Plata, as it is generally called,
discharges the water from a basin much larger than the Mississippi, and
the volume of water brought down by it is said to be exceeded only by the
Amazon. It drains the greater part of the fertile pampas, reaches up into
the coffee lands of Brazil, and carries down to the Atlantic the melted
snows of the loftiest peaks of the Andes. The basin is in the shape of an
immense horseshoe, and includes, besides the two above counties, all of
Paraguay and parts of Bolivia and Uruguay.
The Uruguay River, which flows into the La Plata almost opposite Buenos
Aires, is one thousand miles long and is navigable for several hundred
miles, the Paraná for almost two thousand miles, and the Paraguay, from
its junction with the latter stream, floats boats of shallow draft for
fifteen hundred miles farther. Altogether these various streams furnish
thousands of miles of navigable waters on which regular communication
is furnished by large and commodious steamers. Nicolas Mihanovitch is
the undisputed king of this river traffic, and dozens of vessels plying
on these rivers bear the white letter M. with a black background on the
funnel. They furnish a nightly service between Montevideo and Buenos
Aires, and weekly or semi-weekly service up the Paraná and Uruguay Rivers.
Vessels drawing sixteen feet of water can proceed as far as Rosario, but
ocean-going steamers seldom ascend any farther, as the water becomes
shallower beyond that city. Boats of twelve feet draught can proceed as
far as Asuncion, the capital of Paraguay, eight hundred miles farther
inland. The waters carry much mud, and the channel sometimes changes its
course by the formation of mud banks. Hundreds of islands have formed,
some of which probably started from a submerged tree, about which the
sediment was deposited. In truth the Paraná plays with islands and sand
banks as a lesser stream does with pebbles. A recent scientific writer
has given some interesting facts concerning its eccentricities. Says he:
“A schooner which sank nine years ago off La Paz swiftly developed at its
tail an island a mile long, now crowned by willows. My photograph of the
old port of Paraná town in 1902 shows an island eight hundred and eighty
yards long by four hundred and ninety feet wide fronting it; in December,
1907, only one hundred and sixty feet of the island remained. Thirty
years ago a market gardener made a shallow ditch cut-off opposite Ibicuy
River (Lower Paraná), to take his produce down the river. The Paraná
elected to take his work in hand, and now ocean steamers pass through
this channel on their way down from Rosario.”
In the rainy season the Paraná spreads out for dozens of miles over
the level land and forms an inland sea so wide that the banks are
almost invisible. This flood season lasts for three months in the year,
generally from March to June. At this season the Paraguay pours a mass of
water twenty miles wide and twenty feet deep into the Paraná. Added to
this is the water of the Alta Paraná, and the Lower Paraná then spreads
itself out over the low lands of the western bank.
“Shallow, disreputable, vast,
It sprawls across the western plains,”
to use the words of Kipling. Because of the slight fall it takes three
weeks for the flood waters to flow from Asuncion, a thousand miles
upstream but only two hundred and three feet above sea level, to Buenos
Aires. It is estimated that this river brings down a cubic mile of soil
in twenty-two years. This soil is deposited on the western shore of the
La Plata, and, were it not for the work of man, would soon convert Buenos
Aires into a landlocked harbour. As it is, the dredging charges entailed
by this yearly increasing mass of deposit are very large.
In places the banks of the Paraná are lined with reeds and willows, but
farther up the trees become larger, and there is a forest growth. In one
place may be seen gigantic reeds twenty feet high, then a solitary palm
tree with a crest of fan-like leaves, and again a dense forest of various
growths may crown the bank. Gnarled trees with clusters of beautiful
crimson flowers occasionally add a contrast of colouring. Masses of weeds
and grass are continually floating by. One cannot help but think of the
voyage of Sebastian Cabot up this unexplored stream, in 1526. In a small
vessel of only a few hundred tons he ploughed through these waters,
avoided destruction on the islands, and ascended to a point above the
site of Asuncion. He was months in accomplishing that voyage, which is
now made twice a week in five days. It is not a hard trip, except that
the scenery becomes rather monotonous. Otherwise the accommodation is
quite good, the fare is cheap, and, as a rule, the cabins are comfortable
and are kept very clean.
By steamer it is nearly three hundred miles from Buenos Aires to
Rosario, the second city in the republic, and takes just about a whole
day. The great delta of the Paraná, just above the metropolis, is very
interesting, for it is studded with numerous islands. There are several
ports on the left bank where large _frigorificos_, meat-freezing plants,
are located, where vessels may be seen at the docks at all times waiting
for their loads of beef and mutton. The largest of these is at Campaña,
only fifty-one miles from Buenos Aires, where the River Plate Meat Co.
has its freezing works. At Zarate is the freezing plant of the Las Palmas
Produce Co., and at San Nicolas is another large _frigorifico_. At last
Rosario, which used to be an unimportant place, is reached, but that
designation would not answer for the hustling city of to-day.
Soon after leaving Rosario the river passes through the rich wheat belt,
with the province of Entre Rios on one side of the bank and Santa Fé on
the other. For a distance the banks of the Paraná are quite high on one
side, but they gradually become lower. At length the town of Paraná, a
city of twenty-five thousand inhabitants, and the capital of the province
of Entre Rios, is reached. It is the distributing point for quite a large
section of country and a shipping port for the products as well.
Opposite Paraná is the city of Santa Fé, capital of the province of the
same name, which is of about the same importance as its rival on the
other side of the river. The river leads up past La Paz and Esquma, at
which latter place the province of Corrientes is entered. The city of
Corrientes contains a population of about twenty thousand, and is a
distributing and shipping point for that province. It is not a pretty
city at all and has nothing to distinguish it. Here a change must be made
to boats of lighter draught, for there are rapids between this city and
Posadas that will not permit a draught of more than three feet in the dry
season. It is only about twenty miles to the junction of the Paraguay
River, and is two hundred and twenty-five miles from Corrientes to
Posadas, the capital of the territory of Misiones. It is the collecting
depot for the up-river trade above this point, and is a thriving little
city of about six thousand inhabitants.
The Paraná becomes grander and more picturesque the farther up one
ascends it. Its quiet picturesqueness grows upon the traveller. It is
hemmed in between the hills of Paraguay, on one side, and those of
Misiones on the other. Its width, hitherto anywhere from two to five
miles, suddenly shrinks to two-thirds of a mile, and its depth increases.
The well-wooded ranges of hills slope to a current running five knots
an hour. A graceful line of waving bamboo marks the mean height of the
river and is only broken by the many streams which come tumbling down.
You are travelling toward the equator, and the vegetation changes.
The trees become still larger, and the grass is more luxuriant. Many
varieties of palms make their appearance. A thousand miles from Rosario
is the junction with the Iguassú River, and a few miles from its mouth
are the famous falls of the same name. They are on the boundary line
between Brazil and Argentina, and only a few miles away from the border
of Paraguay. At some imaginary point on the broad Paraná, in the midst of
these vast solitudes, these three republics meet.
The Falls of the Iguassú, which here lie half concealed by the crowding
forests, are a worthy rival of Niagara. The scenery surrounding is, in
its lone loveliness, in harmony with the solemn grandeur of the cataract.
The roar of the waterfall is all the more impressive because of the
solitude that reigns in these primeval forests. These falls cover a wide
area, as they are nearly two miles in length. They are so great that
they must be viewed from several points before their full magnitude dawns
upon the traveller. They plunge out of the hidden recesses of the forest
in many places, for numerous islands have been formed which are now
densely wooded. Nature here seems to have revelled in perfect abandon in
producing this wonderful spectacle. It is like another Niagara set out in
the midst of a wilderness, where the hand of man has done nothing to add
to or detract from what nature has here prepared for the delectation of
mankind.
The falls may be divided into two sections, the Argentine and Brazilian
cascades. The Iguassú River is very wide just above the falls where it
takes a very sharp turn prior to making the first plunge. It makes a
series of three leaps, the last being a drop exceeding two hundred feet.
The unequal erosion of the rock has given the falls a horseshoe shape
very similar to Niagara. Below the falls the water passes through a
narrow gorge where the depth is so great that a hundred fathom line has
failed to sound it. The natives call it bottomless. In 1905, during an
unusually severe rainy season, the water rose so high here, because of
the narrowness of the gorge, that for five days it was backed up to the
total height of the lowest falls, two hundred and ten feet.
Ascending the Alta Paraná, another one hundred and twenty-five miles, one
reaches the smoking cataracts of La Guayra. So scored are the river’s
banks on either side by cascade and torrents that it might be called
“waterfall land.” The Falls of La Guayra are another series of mighty
cascades on the border between Paraguay and Brazil. Above the falls is
a great lake all of the waters of which must pass over these precipices
and through a narrow gorge. At one point it is only two hundred feet
from cliff to cliff. The current piles up in the centre with a corkscrew
motion which forms a maelstrom, with which the famous Whirlpool Rapids
are a quiet pool. The total plunge of these falls is three hundred and
ten feet. Above the La Guayra the Alta Paraná widens out and the hills
retreat. At a distance of four hundred miles, or a total distance of
one thousand six hundred and forty miles from Buenos Aires, are the
Uberaponga Falls, another frantic water power awaiting the harnessing by
man. One can follow this stream on up to its source in a flat, swampy
section, which is also the source of one of the principal affluents of
the Amazon. It drains a very large section of Brazil, for, because of the
range of mountains which follows the coast line in Brazil, water falling
within a few miles of the Atlantic turns its back on the blue waters of
the ocean and journeys from fifteen hundred to two thousand miles before
entering salt water by means of the La Plata.
The route up the Uruguay River is much more picturesque than that up the
Paraná. This majestic stream is about six miles wide at its junction with
the latter river. It is somewhat less obstructed by islands here, so that
both banks can usually be seen. And yet this great stream has moods, as
well as other rivers. The current in its main channel will oftentimes
change. It will encroach here and recede there, submerge an island in
one place and form a new one in another. After a long drouth navigation
must be conducted with caution, but the normal depth is generally
sufficient for all purposes. During times of flood all kinds of strange
small animals and vegetation are brought down by the Uruguay. The water
is decidedly clay coloured. On one side is the flat Argentine plain, and
on the other the undulating shores of Uruguay, for this river is the
international boundary line between these two republics. Small topsail
schooners may be seen coming down the river loaded with timber or fruit,
and bound either for Montevideo or Buenos Aires. Farther up the stream
contracts and one gets a more intimate acquaintance with the country. The
banks shrink back and reveal a glimpse of flowering shrubs, willow trees,
and an occasional palm. A stretch of bright, sandy beach may occasionally
unfold itself. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish shore from
island. Buoys mark the channel, which is very much zigzag. The sunsets on
these broad waters and flat pampas are really wonderful. They paint the
clouds in every colour and shade of rosy pink and brilliant red, and the
waters become of a bluish hue. The cliffs on the Uruguay side are tinted
in many colours, while the Argentine bank is nothing but a straight,
black line.
The boats stop on either side. One hundred and thirty miles from Buenos
Aires, and on the Uruguay side, is the town of Fray Bentos, where the
great Liebig’s Extract Factory is located. On the opposite side and a
little further up is Concepcion del Uruguay, which is an interesting
little town. The busiest and most important town of Argentina on the
Uruguay River is Concordia, two hundred and seventy miles from the
metropolis. It is a town of perhaps fifteen thousand inhabitants, and
has railway communication as well. Because of a falls and rapids at this
point the large river steamers cannot proceed beyond Concordia, although
light draught boats can ascend considerably farther.
Between the Paraná and Uruguay Rivers lie the two goodly-sized provinces
of Entre Rios and Corrientes, and the territory of Misiones. The
two provinces are each about the size of Indiana, and are rich in
agricultural lands. Wheat was first successfully cultivated in Entre
Rios, and these provinces still produce large quantities of grain as
well as much stock. Each one has a population of about a third of a
million and it is increasing each year. A number of colonies have been
established there which have been quite successful. Corrientes contains
several swampy lakes which cover many hundreds of square miles. A part
of the year the greater part of these lakes is dry and then furnishes
excellent pasturage. Their worst feature is that they are the breeding
places of the tick and other pests to stock. A good system of drainage
might make these lands invaluable. It also possesses one large body of
water, called Lake Ibera.
Misiones is a little larger than Massachusetts, and has a population not
exceeding thirty-five thousand. Its lands are fertile, but the climate
is more tropical and it has not been developed so rapidly as the other
sections of the country. It is the only province in Argentina that shares
the tropical conditions of Southern Brazil. The name was derived from
its settlement by the Jesuits after they were expelled from Brazil. For
a time their colonies were very prosperous and thousands of Indians were
gathered together at Apostoles, Santa Ana and San Ignacio. The work was
all done by the Indians under the direction of the priests. The ruins of
San Ignacio, which was established in the sixteenth century, and which
can still be traced in the forest growth, show the solidity with which
the place was built. Many ruins of the houses can still be seen, each one
with a niche in which was placed the statue of a saint. New settlements
of Russians and Poles have recently been established in this territory
which give promise of success. There is much rich virgin land awaiting
development in forest-covered Misiones. _Yerba maté_, tobacco, mandioca
and sugar-cane grow in great abundance.
Proceeding up the Paraguay River from its junction with the Alta Paraná
it is about two hundred miles to Asuncion. The river twists around over
its wide bed in a very capricious manner, and in flood times spreads over
thousands of square miles of the _llanos_, or plains. One can travel
several hundred miles farther by small steamers up into the great state
of Matto Grosso, Brazil, which is twice as large as Texas, and perhaps of
equal fertility. The unoccupied grazing lands of that state will, some
day, support millions of cattle that will be demanded by earth’s teeming
millions.
Flowing into the Paraguay River from the west in Argentina are
two rivers, the Bermejo and Pilcomayo, the latter of which is the
international boundary line with Paraguay for a long distance. Each of
these rivers is more than five hundred miles in length. The Bermejo River
is entirely within Argentine territory. It is exceedingly tortuous and
its actual length is about three times as great as the real distance
between its source and its mouth. Small steamers can navigate it for at
least half of its length.
Between these two rivers and extending across the Paraguay River into
Paraguay lies what is known as the Gran Chaco. This is a broad plain,
alternating with forest, which includes thousands of square miles of
territory. It is the least known of Argentine territory, because of the
difficulties of travel, and also because of the fact that wild and savage
Indians who lead a nomadic existence are still to be found in certain
sections. It was a mysterious and strange country to the early explorers.
Into this wilderness the natives fled, and both fancy and imagination
peopled it with all manner of strange wild beasts. The territorial
boundaries were never definitely settled, until President Hayes, acting
as arbitrator, fixed the boundaries between Paraguay and Argentina. These
vast leagues are now divided into two territories, Formosa and Chaco.
The former is almost as large as Ohio and the latter equals Illinois. In
the two territories the reported population is about one person to each
five square miles. There are many curious phenomena in the Chaco. The
edges between plain and woodland are as clearly cut and as straight as
if a surveyor had done the work. In fact the line of demarkation is drawn
with remarkable exactitude. On one side will be a forest, and on the
other the smooth plain stretches out with not a tree upon it to break the
severity of the contrast. In other places there will be only palm trees,
with not a single specimen of another species for variety. It is a land
of strange watercourses. Broad streams that have ploughed all the way
from the Andes in the full light of day burrow beneath the ground in the
Chaco and continue their course underground. During heavy rainfalls it is
claimed that small fish descend from the clouds. Fish eight or ten inches
in length will be found in pools after showers, where there had been no
water, and the ground had been in a parched condition for months. Do they
lie imbedded in the earth like frogs? Are these fish amphibious? These
questions have not yet been answered. It is a fact that there are many
odd phases of nature in this little known section of Argentina; the same
character is found in a goodly part of Paraguay, and it even extends up
into Brazil.
[Illustration: A FOREST IN THE GRAN CHACO]
The forest section of the Chaco is not a dense growth like the tropical
forests. The trees do not stand close together; and the spaces between
are not impenetrable, although some underbrush and tall grasses impede
the way. Yet a man on horseback can easily thread his way through them.
The only inhabitants are the Indians and half-breeds, the latter of whom
are only partially civilized. Their homes are mud huts of a single room
where the entire household, irrespective of age and sex, lodge. The
Chaco abounds in game of many kinds. Partridges, wood-pigeons and snipe
are very plentiful, and almost every species of water fowl in addition.
A species of wild turkey is also to be met with, which affords most
excellent sport as well as eating. The osprey, whose plumes are so much
in demand, is a native of this land. The tapir, ant-eater, wild pig,
jaguar and the lone wolf—a creature that has never been known to live in
captivity—are found here in their native wilds. Poisonous snakes are very
common, and huge pythons are occasionally encountered in the swamps. It
is the innumerable insects, however, that make life almost unbearable for
the white man, for he is subjected to both diurnal and nocturnal torture
by the hordes of these pests.
At the present time this section is chiefly exploited for the quebracho
wood. This is a very hard, fine-grained and tough wood. It was so named
from the words _quiebra-hacha_, the axe-breaker, and was well named,
for it does defy ordinary axes and saws. It is a tree found only in
the Chaco. There are two varieties, the _colorado_ (red) and _blanco_
(white), of which the former is the most valuable. From this tree are
made railroad ties which will last for thirty years, and it is the
richest in tannin extract of any tree yet discovered.
The quebracho tree usually stands out by itself and is easily discernible
at a distance, both from the character of its bark and the peculiar
formation of its branches. Four or five trees to the acre is about the
average yield. The tree is tall, two or three feet in diameter, and is
crowned by a rather thin, oval mass of branches and leaves. The leaves
are oval, smooth and shiny, and it is only partially deciduous. It
lives to a great age, but also grows quite rapidly, so that it can be
cultivated in the future as necessity demands. Formerly this tree was
sought only by the railroads for their sleepers. About fifteen years ago
it was found to be full of tannin, and, as oak bark was becoming scarce,
this demand was rapidly developed and now forms the principal use for
quebracho. Not only the bark yields tannin, but the sap and wood as well.
The bark contains about eight per cent. of tannin, the sap three or four
per cent., and the heart of the tree will yield as high as twenty-five
per cent. of this essence so necessary to the tanner. It is a difficult
and expensive product to market because of the remoteness of the forests
and scattered character of the trees. In many places narrow gauged
railroads and spurs have been run out through these trackless wastes
in order to bring the logs to the mills or rivers. Otherwise it would
be slow work, for during a large part of the year the roads are almost
impassable and oxen suffer much from the climate and insects. These
light railways have been found to be by far the most economical means
of getting the logs to market. One company owns four million acres of
the Chaco, and is prepared to cut logs into sleepers, make fence posts,
or prepare it into tannin extract, whichever offers the most profit.
There is a big and constantly increasing demand for all. The increase in
construction of the Argentine railways makes a demand for sleepers, and
failure of other sources of supply gives an ever widening market for the
tannin extract.
Some of the railways in the Chaco end at the rivers, where the logs are
loaded on boats and taken down to Rosario or Buenos Aires. Small sawmills
are now found way out in the Chaco far from civilization. Other companies
have their factories in the Chaco district, where the whole work is
done and the extract prepared for shipment. This substance is known in
the markets as “Quebracho Extract.” It is easily manufactured where the
proper machinery has been installed. The wood is passed through a machine
which cuts it into shavings and the smallest possible chips. These are
collected into immense kettles, where it is treated by chemical processes
until all the tannin has been removed. After this the fluid is reduced by
evaporation to a thick, jelly-like mass which is poured into sacks, where
it is finally dried into the substance sold in commerce. Some of the
companies engaged in this business have been capitalized for very large
sums, and considerable towns have grown up around their establishments.
Civilization and development have followed the construction of the
railroads here as everywhere.
[Illustration: AN INDIAN WOMAN OF THE GRAN CHACO]
In 1895 the first exportation of quebracho extract is recorded from the
River Plate. In that year it was four hundred tons only. By 1902 it had
reached nine thousand tons, and now the annual export exceeds thirty
thousand tons. Of this enormous export the United States takes fully
sixty-five per cent.
There are several thousand Indians who live in the Gran Chaco, and they
comprise a number of tribes, all of whom, however, have the same general
characteristics. These Indians are absolutely unlettered, and they have
developed no civilization or institution of their own. Furthermore,
they have the reputation of being treacherous and cruel, and many small
parties of whites have been treacherously murdered. They are perhaps
the most barbarous of any Indians in South America. Others of the same
tribes inhabit the Chaco of Paraguay. It is said by those who have made a
study of them that these Chaco aborigines are more ignorant and much less
tractable than any of the natives of Patagonia.
They dwell along the rivers in this great wilderness in the simplest kind
of abodes, and away from the settlements wear practically no clothing
whatever. One distinguishing feature is the habit of tattooing the
skin, which is very common. Not only the warriors, but the women as
well, indulge in this custom, which, in their opinion, beautifies them.
At first glance these tattoo marks oftentimes resemble the markings of
smallpox, but a closer inspection shows that it is all in geometrical
design. It is effected by pricking the skin with a big thorn, dipped in
an acrid milky substance obtained from a plant that grows near there, and
which leaves an indelible mark wherever it touches. It is absorbed by the
epidermic tissue. This juice is obtained by breaking off the clusters of
flowers of the plant, called the _iguoqui_, and this milky substance then
exudes from the stem. It is used as it comes out of the stem, for it must
be fresh. The Indians are also almost hairless on the face and body, due
to the habit of depilation of the skin. This latter characteristic is in
common with our American red men, and the tattooing takes the place of
paint.
Horrible tales are told of these Chaco Indians and their murder of
travellers. On the other hand numerous instances are known where they
have saved the lives of white men and tenderly ministered to their wants.
They have been accused of being cannibals, and probably were in the
past. “I have seen them drink the blood of animals killed for our use
with avidity,” says an Argentine writer. They do not live exclusively
on meat, but also eat roots and wild fruits, and the wild honey which
is found in abundance. From fruits and honey they also make fermented
drinks, of which they are very fond. They are nomadic, and wander
from one place to another in quest of game and fruit. They have few
domesticated animals, such as the dog and horse. They neither understand
nor practise agriculture, although they sometimes plant little patches of
corn or sugar-cane, which they have learned from the priests. They barter
a little among themselves, but of trade in general they know nothing, and
so they beg of travellers whom they meet instead of offering to trade.
It is said they cannot even count above four. In medicine they resort to
sorcery and incantations rather than to any curative herbs.
Polygamy is permitted among these Indians, but is not commonly practised.
The portion of women is very much as with the red men, for to them falls
the hard work of the home. If her husband dies the wife mourns for a
year, and it is not proper for her to marry again during that time. She
even refuses to converse and walks apart from all the others. The dead
are burned by some tribes and buried by others. Those tribes who bury
always place a gourd of water by the grave. This is both for the deceased
and his friends, who come to visit the grave, and is probably due to a
fraternal and hospitable idea in this land where a drink of refreshing
water is sometimes more welcome than food.