_On the Road to Paraguay_
[Illustration: ON THE PARANA.]
Paraguay is most easily reached by river. The long overland journeys
from either Brazil or Bolivia are both of a nature to deter tourists,
and the voyage up either the Uruguay or the Parana rivers is preferable
to the long dusty train journey from Buenos Ayres to Corrientes. The
steamship service of the Mihanovich line which plies upon the River
Plate, as well as along the Argentine coast, is one of the best in South
America. The vessels are large and adequately fitted for the tropical
regions through which they pass. Leaving Buenos Ayres in the early
morning, the River Uruguay is reached in about four hours. Great masses
of green foliage float down the swiftly running stream, and low-lying
islands clad with rich vegetation are passed. Strings of cattle boats or
barges laden with their living freight and towed by strong steam tugs
appear upon the scene, whilst the white sails of craft of all sizes, and
many shapes, flutter over the broad, smooth waters. The river, which is
both wide and deep, is the highway to a great many of the most
prosperous
[Illustration: FREY BENTOS.]
districts in the republics of Uruguay and Argentina. The towns upon
either side of the river are small, and removed from one another by
great distances. Small villages and insignificant collections of huts
peep out from the luxuriant foliage, and glimpses of the life of the
inhabitants are caught from time to time. Agricultural pursuits occupy
the attention of the people, the raising and tending of cattle and live
stock being by far the most important industry. Frey Bentos and Colon
are both well-known ports upon this river, at which the steamer comes to
anchor. At the numerous stopping places small tenders, row boats, and
canoes come alongside, and put on or take off passengers and their
baggage, small freight, and mails, very little time being occupied by
the operations. Paysandu, famous for its ox tongues, is a small town
opposite to Colon, and a railway connects it to the central Uruguay
system, thus bringing it into direct communication with Montevideo.
Colon is entirely occupied by the factories of the celebrated Liebig’s
Extract of Meat Co., and the small villages that have sprung up around
it amidst pastoral surroundings are inhabited by the factory workers.
Concordia and Salto are the end of the journey as far as the Uruguay
River is concerned, the further passage being closed to navigation by
falls and rapids. These two towns are typical specimens of Spanish
colonial settlements, and present very much the same appearance to-day
as they did a century ago. Sleepy would describe them at ordinary times,
but at midday the passenger landing from the steamer finds them
veritable cities of the dead, for the streets are deserted, and even
hotel-keepers are difficult to awaken. Concordia has wide streets but
low houses, with roofs either flat or sloping away from the front to the
back, so that a straight, unbroken sky-line is presented to the eye. The
Plaza or principal square of the town possesses a church with two
towers, which, although of comparatively recent date, has, owing to the
unfinished brickwork, the aspect of an ancient building. The towers,
covered with small green slates, are typical of the church architecture
that prevails over nearly the whole of South America. Inside, the church
has a plain barrel roof supported by engaged fluted columns of the
Corinthian order, the floor is tiled, and highly coloured statues and
images adorn the walls; much of the great altar is painted to imitate
marble, and a profusion of gilding testifies to the native love of the
gaudy. Seen at night its effect is rich enough, when the garishness of
the decorations is softened by the mellow candlelight. During the
services in honour of the Virgin crowds of women and girls are seated in
the front seats of the nave, and notices are placed upon the pillars and
in other conspicuous places, intimating that men and boys are forbidden
to trespass on the part reserved for the women, while, to enforce a due
observance of the order, policemen, in white helmets and brown holland
clothes, are in attendance, and the crowds of amorous youths are
restrained with some little difficulty from gaining a point of vantage
from which to observe the fair. Processions of little girls clad in
white pass through the building singing “Ave Marias”; a black-robed
priest beating time and marshalling the regiment. Bouquets of flowers
are thrown upon the altar steps by the children as they pass--a pretty
ceremony enthusiastically observed. The service over, the congregation
slowly disperse into the Plaza, and the straw-hatted beaux form up in
[Illustration: A PARAGUAYAN LADY.]
line to gaze upon the fair beauties of the community. Ladies, young and
middle-aged, attended by their duennas, linger under the lights of the
lamps, conscious of and not ill pleased with the attentions of the human
moths fluttering around them. There is no doubt that the ladies of the
country towns and cities of Argentina enjoy a greater freedom than do
their sisters in Buenos Ayres. In Concordia they play tennis and other
outdoor games, and there is a growing disposition on the part of the
“society” señoritas to become acquainted with the English tongue.
The buildings in the Plaza are more modern in style than the cathedral
or church, and have ornamental fronts generally painted white. Green
“pariso” trees shade the square, and in the centre stands the equestrian
statue of San Martin. Replicas of this statue are placed in every town
of any importance in the Argentine, the only variations being the
pedestals, which have local peculiarities of design, workmanship, and
material. The statue is rather a poor affair, stiff and conventional in
pose and action, but it serves its turn to commemorate the great general
and hero of the republic. The inscription on the front records the names
of the famous battles of
SAN LORENZO ... MAIPU ... CHACABUCO
and a dedication to the army of the Andes, who gloried in that they
could say, “In twenty-four hours we have made the campaign, crossing the
highest Cordilleras in the world, disposing of tyrants and liberating
Chili.” The whole square, which is typical of many others in Argentina,
is made up or bounded by houses for the most part of one story, with
blinds to keep the fierce rays of the sun from penetrating windows and
doors. A few cabs covered with cracked leather hoods and harnessed to
scraggy horses are lined up round the pavements of the square. A
bandstand railed in with a stucco imitation of rustic woodwork has its
appropriate place in the general make-up of the Plaza. During the months
from November to March inclusive the siesta hours are from half-past
eleven till two, and during these hours the city sleeps. Banks, business
houses, shops, and factories all obey the call. The shade temperature
during the summer months is high, and although 114° is rarely
registered, 100° to 104° are very common. In the winter from March to
October the business hours are longer, and midday rest is limited to
one hour and a half, from twelve to one-thirty.
Concordia is an important centre for wool and cattle. Sheep do well in
the province of Entre Rios, in spite of the heat, and the cattle,
although not perhaps so pleasing to the eye as the improved breeds that
flourish farther south, are hardy and useful animals. Grapes are
cultivated and extensive vineyards surround the town. The wines made in
the bodegas of Entre Rios and Mendoza are sent down to Buenos Ayres,
where ingenious dealers and merchants are expert in the art of blending
them with the imported brands from Europe, so that they can pass them on
to the public as the real “Simon Pure.” The roads round the town are
badly made, so sandy and yielding that driving is hard work for the
horses. The lanes through the vineyards are very pleasant, shaded by the
“pariso” and lime trees, and perfumed by the scent of oranges and
lemons. The ground is gently undulating, in marked contrast to the low,
flat plains farther south and north, and from many vantage points
extensive views are obtained of the surrounding country. The town of
Salto, on the other side of the river, in the Republic of Uruguay, lies
white like a Moorish city, the shipping at the wharves by the river side
lending animation to the scene. In the suburbs of these towns are many
shacks and huts built of mud or old tin cans, a common method all
through the country. The dwelling-houses in the town are of the common
Spanish type, and one gets accustomed to the pleasant little pictures of
family life seen through open doorways. The patio is the living-room of
these houses, and the flowers, vines, and creepers make cheerful wall
decorations. The rooms leading off are dingy and ill-ventilated, for the
shuttered windows are often kept closed for days. They are cool and free
from the plague of flies, but, unless for sleeping in, they are
depressing and gloomy. During the hot evenings the inhabitants take
their chairs and stools out into the streets, and little groups of
relatives and friends block the narrow pavements. All the windows to the
houses are barred either with iron or wooden rails, giving a gloomy
expression to the house fronts.
Although a small tramway drawn by horses has lately been installed in
the town, the automobile has hardly got farther than the showrooms. The
drivers of these cars have little horns or trumpets, upon which they
perform with gusto, very much in the same way as do the pedlars in Rio
upon their primitive instruments. Horses are ridden by all classes, for
horseflesh is cheap, and during the making of a call, or shopping, the
animals are hobbled by the fore legs and left in the streets, sometimes
for hours together. There is no theatre in the town, but a travelling
circus sometimes puts in an appearance, and receives the active
patronage of the rank and fashion, as well as of the masses. Some of
these shows are well equipped, carrying with them their own electric
light plant, and, in case this should break down or give out during a
performance, an extra plant for the illuminating of the tent by
acetylene gas is in readiness. The performance is of the well-known
circus type--elephants and trained horses, clowns and acrobats occupy
the ring in turns, and cinema pictures wind up the evening’s
performance. For a provincial town in South America, Concordia has many
things to recommend it--a club with fine premises, a show ground for the
annual cattle display, and, for those who desire further diversion,
there is the café with its cinema, where, to the accompaniment of music,
wine, and tobacco smoke, the evenings may be passed. From Concordia the
steamer returns to Buenos Ayres, as the higher river is unnavigable.
Trains from the town convey passengers to Posadas, on the Alto Parana,
or to Corrientes, on the Paraguay River. The journey across country is
hot, dusty, and uncomfortable, and after the river travel very
undesirable. The natives who board the train at the various stations
through the province are yellow-skinned Indians, with little or no
Spanish blood in them. They are dull and sleepy-looking, with dirty
habits and forbidding expressions. The landscape is flat and
uninteresting for the greater part of the journey, pools of water and
marshy swamps being the principal breaks in the monotony of the plains,
and the estancias which dot the surface at long intervals make the only
landmarks. Herds of cattle, horses, sheep, and ostriches graze upon the
plains; a few goats are also found in certain districts, half-wild
animals that start away in wild stampedes at the approach of trains.
Huts of mud and thatch are grouped around the camp stations, and a few
lonely and poverty-stricken-looking shacks, the residences of shepherds
and cowboys, appear at intervals in the dreary landscape. Many of the
“peons” or native working-classes bear striking resemblances to
Chinamen, and the absence of the negro type throughout this province is
[Illustration: SHEPHERDS AND COWBOYS, CORRIENTES.]
note-worthy. Mounted police, with great sun helmets and white drill
clothes, are in evidence at the railway stations, and, although
uniformed and bearing swords and revolvers, they seldom wear socks or
boots, but content themselves with the simple alpagatos or straw shoes
which are common throughout the country. The poncho is very popular with
most of the inhabitants of the plains, a really serviceable and sensible
form of covering.
At Mercedes a few sun-bleached coaches betray the existence of some
important town in the vicinity, although it is not visible from the
railway station. Trains laden with hot, uncomfortable cattle and sheep
are drawn up in sidings to permit the passenger trains to pass. Carts
drawn by oxen and horses lumber along the dusty roads. Much of the
country in the north of Corrientes is swampy, and an abundance of bird
life clusters around the margin of the shallow lakes. Storks wade
through the pools, plover, snipe, pigeon, and rooks hover in the air,
and palm trees grow here and there in little clumps, giving a tropical
touch to a landscape which but for them has no special feature, save
that of monotony. When violent storms of wind, rain, and lightning visit
these camps--and their terrific force is indescribable--the whole
horizon from east to west is lit up by flashes of blinding intensity,
following one another in such rapid succession that they merge together
and form long periods of illumination, varied at intervals by streaks of
forked lightning which stab the earth with destructive force. Deaths
from lightning are not uncommon in this quarter of the continent, the
continual roll of loud thunder is deafening, like the near report of a
battery of heavy ordnance--the rain descends in torrents, an
awe-inspiring deluge, which converts great tracts of the low-lying land
into shallow lakes.
Corrientes, the capital of the State, could hardly be described as a
fine city or town. It is undergoing some improvements, which will render
it a little less destructive to carriage springs and trying to weak
ankles. The streets until recently were frightful, one mass of rugged
boulders that would baffle the ingenuity of the sure-footed mule to
negotiate. The authorities are at work, endeavouring to make the roads
and streets passable, but during the operations, which have been started
all over the town simultaneously, confusion reigns. The town lies on the
western bank of the Parana River, a little below the point where it
meets the
[Illustration: IGEASU FALLS ON THE ALTO PARANA.]
Paraguay; and during the summer months heat, dullness, and sand are its
principal attractions. Almost every other house bears a brass plate
signifying that a lawyer or doctor resides within, surely an
unpropitious omen for the peace and happiness of the inhabitants. Very
few shops of any importance enliven the dismal solitude of the streets,
and the business houses and warehouses have unpretentious exteriors, and
even before and after the siesta hours from eleven to two they are
anything but animated. There is a considerable trade passing through the
port, however, which makes the river front the liveliest portion of the
town. In the Plaza there is the prescribed statue of San Martin, the
cathedral, bandstand, and ornamental garden. One ancient building takes
up almost the entire side of the square. It is weather-stained, faded,
and worn, its dilapidated front bears evidence of antiquity, and
tradition says that it is contemporaneous with the foundation of the
city. The general decay which has spread over most of the neighbouring
buildings is more apparent on this ancient residence of the Governor of
the State. Its strongly barred windows suggest a prison rather than a
palace, but in days gone by Governors were not the most popular persons
in the Spanish colonies, and they needed a strong protection from the
disaffected. The Government buildings in the Plaza are in the modern
French Renaissance style, their high mansard roofs and delicate plaster
ornamentations incongruously placed amidst the heavier and less fanciful
styles of the early colonial architecture. The cathedral, which is of
the usual type, is lit by the modern electric light, although the
priests who administer to the religious needs, and light up the
spiritual darkness of the population, still array themselves in the
rough brown robes of their order. At one corner of the Plaza stands a
large house of one story, with a richly ornamented front in the
classical style; through its open door a glimpse is caught of a
beautiful patio filled with palms, vines, and plants. These patios are
the only bright spots in the city, and even the most forbidding and
dirty-looking habitations are rich in the possession of these cheery,
verdant bowers. Some of the “posadas” or inns are picturesque enough to
look at, particularly if they are regarded from the point of view of a
lover of ruins, but as hostelries they do not offer much attraction, for
their tottering walls threaten to engulf the inmates, particularly when
a good storm is raging. Under the verandahs groups of women sit
gossiping and smoking big cigars, which they puff with real enjoyment. A
strange medley of animals lies around--dogs, cats, monkeys, pigs, and
the curious carpincha, whilst through the turned wooden bars that screen
the windows handsome young faces framed with brightly covered scarves
peep out at the few passers-by.
[Illustration: OLD HOUSES IN CORRIENTES.]
When leaving Corrientes by the steamer it is wise to engage the services
of one of the peons who are attached to the landing-stage. These
watermen, who are always to be found upon the wharf, keep their
attention riveted upon the river, and as the hour at which the steamers
arrive is rather uncertain, the advantages of having a watchman who will
give timely warning to intending voyagers is apparent. At any hour of
the twenty-four the vessel may arrive, and as it remains only a few
minutes alongside the quay, it is well for passengers to be at hand.
[Illustration: A “POSADA,” CORRIENTES.]
The journey up the river from Corrientes to Asuncion has plenty of
incident to enliven it, particularly when one of the periodical
revolutions of the little republic of Paraguay is in progress, for then
the uncertainty of finding villages still inhabited, the prospect of
encountering tramp steamers converted into “battleships,” and small
troops of armed men parading the river banks only adds to the
fascination the romantic country already possesses. Ascending and
descending the river one meets with travellers of many nationalities,
army officers from the republics of Brazil, Argentina, and Uruguay,
merchants and traders, commercial travellers, tourists, and sportsmen.
The increasing numbers who journey up these rivers testify to the
growing interest that the vast territories in the heart of South
America have created, for the Parana is the only practical highway to
the State of Matto Grosso, the high central tableland of the continent.
Corumba is the busy little shipping port for a vast territory with which
it does a thriving trade, and from it travellers to the State capital of
Cuyaba embark upon the smaller steamers which navigate the São
Lourenco. This branch of the Paraguay is perhaps one of the most
characteristically tropical in South America, the vegetation on its
banks growing with a profuse abundance. The State of Matto Grosso is an
almost unexplored territory, and although containing a wealth of
minerals, hardwoods, and rubber, only a fraction has been gathered and
exported. When the half-million square miles that constitute the area of
this State are contrasted with the total exports, to the value of about
the same number of pounds sterling, the possibilities of enormous
developments are apparent. The name of the State, “Matto Grosso” (dense
forest), gives some indication of the character of the country, and it
is not surprising that rubber should be one of its most important
products. Gold is found in many of the rivers and hills, and alluvial
workings have been carried on ever since the Jesuits, three hundred
years ago, discovered them to be profitable. After heavy showers of rain
it is said that gold is washed down the streets of the capital.
Diamonds, copper, silver, and lead have also been found, and each year
sees more enterprises developing some of the immeasurable resources. In
the rainy season, when the rivers break through and overflow their
normal banks, it is possible for a canoe or small boat to voyage from
the Amazon to the mouth of the River Plate, and many projects have been
put forward to permanently connect the two rivers by canals. The old
maps of the continent show that a waterway was known to the earliest
explorers. Captain Sharp’s map, published in the seventeenth century,
indicates a great waterway connecting the Amazon with the River Plate,
and on it the territory of Brazil and Uruguay are shown as a huge island
quite separate from the rest of the continent, and although the map is
rough and primitive, the fact that a river route between the points
mentioned existed, is insisted upon with a decision indicative of
definite knowledge. Railways are now in course of construction which
will connect Corumba with São Paulo, and Cuyaba with Goyaz and the
federal capital of Brazil, and then the journey from the seaports of
Brazil to the farthest
[Illustration]
outposts of the republic will be accomplished in about three or four
days, instead of twelve or more, as at present. A few travellers, either
to gain experience or from necessity, have made the fatiguing journey
from Corumba to La Paz, in Bolivia, and vice versa. From all the
accounts they give, it is not one which has many attractions to
compensate for the many discomforts and even hardships that are certain
to be encountered. From Corumba the traveller proceeds on muleback
across a dry, desolate plain, with no shelter and little water for
eighteen days, and encounters only a few Indians, friendly enough
inclined, but possessed of nothing to offer in the way of hospitality to
strangers. Arrived at Sucre, a halt can be made, and a short rest taken
before proceeding to La Paz through Cochabamba and Oruro. The whole
journey on muleback occupies about forty days, and can be recommended to
robust and hardy persons who, tired of luxury and the easy comforts of
civilised life, are anxious for a change.
To return to the river. The heat during the summer months is intense,
the thermometer usually registering about 90° in the shade. The river
continues wide and winding as it passes the Grand Chaco on the one side
and the wooded plains on the other. The banks in places are straight as
an even wall, and from the steamer look like embankments of masonry. The
continual wash from the traffic that plies upon the river has its
effect, however, shown by the gaps formed by slides and erosions.
Endless swamps stretch for miles during the rainy season, and the many
trees are only saved from complete submersion by the twisted cables of
lianas which hold them firmly together. Flocks of small aquatic birds
amidst the network of creepers and branches are silently alert, fishing
for a meal. In many places fantastic and exaggerated tree trunks grow
from the water’s edge, and grassy plains, barely rising above the
river’s surface, extend for miles. Close by the shores alligators bask,
with their ugly snouts just above the water, disappearing immediately
they are disturbed by the wash from the passing steamers or the approach
of small boats and canoes. On both sides of the river, cattle, horses,
and ostriches graze in wild freedom upon the meadowland. Mud huts appear
at intervals, and natives in dirty white, ragged garments loll under the
shade of thatched verandahs. Many of the huts, constructed with the
sides and ends of old kerosene tins and bits of packing cases, add a
variety to the architectural styles
[Illustration: TRAVELLERS ON THE STEAMER.]
of these primitive habitations. Canoes with blunt prows and rounded
sterns ply from shore to shore, and surround the steamers that come to
anchor at a “port.” They carry odd cargoes, curious passengers and their
belongings, bundles of many colours, old iron bedsteads and chairs, pots
and pans, and household goods and chattels; domestic pets, monkeys,
parrots, and dogs, all form part of their mixed freight. Trestle beds
are the inseparable impedimenta of the German, Italian, and Spanish
labourers, who move about from place to place with the characteristic
restlessness of born travellers. These beds serve a double purpose, and
are used as holdalls for all their owners’ baggage by day, and as their
couches by night, when the fore deck of the steamer is transformed into
an open-air dormitory. At Formosa, an important though small town on the
Argentine side of the river, a large crowd assembles to witness the
arrival and departure of the steamer. Cabs and wagonettes convey the
passengers to and from the town, which lies at a little distance from
the river bank, and the habitual quietude of the port is disturbed for a
few hours or so.
During a voyage I made up the river a revolution was in progress, and
the town of Villetta was in the hands of the insurgents; an armed
steamer lay off the town, its decks swarming with men in khaki uniforms.
There were Englishmen and other Europeans on board, members of the great
army of soldiers of fortune who always contrive to get mixed up with
South American revolutions. On the decks of the innocent-looking tramp
steamer which had been re-named the _Constituccion_, quick-firing and
other small armaments glistened in the sunlight, whilst a wireless
installation and searchlights testified to the resourcefulness of the
insurgents. All along the Paraguayan banks of the river we encountered
little bands of the rebels and many deserted villages. Passengers were
landed upon the banks near the latter, and surrounded by their
belongings were left quite contented, if not happy, with no one to
welcome or receive them. In some of the villages a few women and
children were left in charge, the men and youths having fled across the
river to the Argentine. The women would come down to the water’s edge
and exchange news with our passengers in half-amused, half-frightened
tones, and many of the aspects of the revolution had an irresistibly
comic side to them. Farther up the river more primitive methods of life
and commerce prevail, and half-amphibious dwellings lie on the borders
of the great “esteros” or marsh lands that stretch away from the river.
In the rainy season these lands become vast lakes, the thick, stiff,
clayey soil forming an impervious bottom. In the dry season the water
evaporates, and leaves behind a grey, dusty soil of great gaping cracks,
and a strong, wiry grass and stunted shrubs growing in many patches. The
dreary malarious wastes extend far beyond the limits of the river’s
bank, and on these placid, stagnant areas the mosquito finds a congenial
breeding ground. On these swamps numerous aquatic plants grow, and the
camalote and many varieties of white and blue lilies, whilst the
_Victoria regia_ spreads out its broad, green leaves and snowy flowers.
On the higher lands farther to the north the landscape becomes bolder
and more picturesque. Vast woods, dense and almost impenetrable, abound,
and harbour a wealth of animal life. Beautifully marked jaguars, tiger
cats, and ocelots make their lairs in the dark recesses of these gloomy
forests, monkeys chatter amongst the trees, whilst snakes and lizards
glide and dart through the confused matted undergrowth. The carpincha,
the largest of existent rodents, wallows in the muddy margins of the
swamps; a droll-looking animal, rapid though clumsy in its movements,
possessing a ludicrous truncated face that would provoke a smile from an
anchorite. The whole country is a sportsman’s paradise, for it harbours
a plentiful variety of large and fierce quadrupeds, and teems with
feathered game. The stately heron and gaunt stork haunt the river banks,
as do innumerable water birds, ducks and geese of many native varieties.
Pheasants, partridge, snipe, and pigeon fly over land and water, great
flocks of parrots, with harsh, strident cries, break the silence of the
evening calm. At sunset, when the dying hues of the sun incarnadine the
expansive waters, the prevailing tone of greyness comes as a welcome
relief, after the blinding glare of the daytime, when from a myriad
diamond points the reflected light dances upon the rippling waters. The
western sky is diffused with a golden or ruddy glow, and forms a mellow
background to the rich, mysterious greens of the tree-clad banks.
Cormorants, kingfishers, and storks sail above the surface of the water
in search of prey, and when the brief period of twilight ceases the
starry swarms of the heavens shine from the blue vault overhead with an
amazing brilliance. The long-drawn reflections of the night-lights of
the sky in the river form streaks of opal light, which move ever forward
with the ship’s advance like dancing will-o’-the-wisps, the rare beauty
of the tropical night is deeply impressive, and, in the silence, ideas
of space are magnified by many reflections, nature becomes more
mysterious, the passing hour more trivial, and man and all his efforts
shrink into insignificance.