In a little Paraguayan village where there is no hotel we find a
shanty with a table on which are cold meat and pickles mostly; eat
when you like, sleep when and where you can, and pay is exorbitant.
Two of us slept on a table. We are here after jaguars. One found
a hammock said to belong to the cook--don't know what became of
him--this was slung over the table, all in the same room which opened
on the main street. The old town was smashed in the last fight which
was a plucky one and where the fellows left alive got out of the
town by tying dead soldiers to posts by dummy guns, leaving them on
guard till the other fellows found out. There is nothing left of it
but the ruins of a cathedral (San Carlos), high bare walls with great
timbers sticking out into the sky and holes made by cannon. One of
us tried to sketch it, but it was not easy as the population were
interested and shut one up in a circle. The present village is half a
mile away, a street of wooden shanties with big shutters (no glass)
nearer the river. In the houses they played loto with much noise, and
taught green parrots to whistle.
[Illustration: Evening in Humatiaá.]
In one there were two delightful and rather fiedish little jaguar
cubs, in the street people played bowls and talked to anyone they
wished. We all knew each other directly and did the same. Now and
then, to some belle going out in scarlet dress, gold embroideries, and
huge earrings, her dress up to her knees in front and a long train;
nothing much on her shoulders or her feet and at night people wander
into the room where we are trying to sleep, eat, play cards, sing,
fight, and so on. Sometimes a man on the table goes mad and sits up.
I am in the hammock above so I go mad. It doesn't matter, everyone is
mad with an uncivilized madness here.
So we get up and eat, the language is guarani, two-thirds Spanish,
one-third Indian and a trifle of Portuguese; nice language, with a
click in it like a dissipated watch.
[Illustration: Adios Humatiaá.]
[Illustration: Your Stateroom.]
There was a baby's funeral among other things. The little body
covered with flowers and surrounded by candles, is carried round on a
board, by a crowd and brass band; they come in, put it on a table or
somewhere. The band plays and the crowd fraternize and drink cana till
tired. Then to another house and this goes on till they are all drunk
and till the baby has to be buried.