ON THE TRAVESIA.
On the 28th of April our caravan crossed the River Desaguadero, and
upon the western bank the peons killed an ox, and we ate for the first
time since the morning of the previous day. At noon we reached the
limits of artificial irrigation, which is carried on extensively in the
neighborhood of Mendoza. Along the road ran a shallow ditch, four feet
wide, and containing about two inches of water, which, when the canal
is full, fertilizes the soil in the vicinity.
Beyond the Desaguadero, forty leagues from Mendoza, lay the hamlet of
La Paz, upon the outskirts of which we encamped for the night. Very
different was this hamlet from the others we had passed, which looked
old and squalid, the houses seeming ready to crumble in pieces, and
little vegetation, save in San Luis, was to be seen. Here everything
looked neat, and a degree of comfort prevailed that was refreshing
to the eye of the traveller who had just crossed a dreary country.
This comfortable and fresh appearance was the result of irrigation,
for very little rain falls on this great travesia, which covers many
thousand miles of territory in the provinces of San Luis, Mendoza, and
San Juan; and wherever the water of rivers can be turned from their
natural course to fertilize the broad waste lands, there little spots
of verdure appear, and the labor of the farmer is crowned with success.
The whole township of La Paz was divided into square pastures, around
which ran a wide canal. Along the borders of these grew tall poplars,
that served to fence in and protect the herds of cattle that had been
brought from San Luis to fatten on _alfalfa_, a species of clover. Our
_patron_ was so parsimonious that he refused to purchase good pasturage
for the cattle, which were growing weaker each day on miserable fare,
but ordered the _capataz_ to drive them to a piece of waste land, upon
which grew a scanty supply of dry grass.
The next day we encamped a few leagues beyond the village, where
I bought, and shared with the peons, a couple of pumpkins, some
coarse bread, and a quantity of dried figs, that had been brought
from Mendoza. Our road the next day led through woods of thorns and
algarrobas, and occasionally over an open plain.
Just before dark we had a fine view of the distant Andes, which were
now distinctly visible. The most lofty peaks were covered with snow,
although in many places dark lines showed where the rocks remained yet
uncovered.
The wind blew direct from the west, and coming from the snowy
mountains, was very chilly. All night I turned and rolled upon my hide
in great discomfort from the cold that benumbed my limbs. On the next
day, May 1st, the peons stopped to kill an ox close to Las Casitis, a
village larger and better than the last one we passed three days before.
While the troop rested, a broad-faced, good-looking fellow beckoned
from over a fence of thorns and cornstalks for me to come and dine
with him. I accepted his kind invitation, and he showed me his hut and
grounds; the former was built of cornstalks, and was well thatched.
Upon the rafters, that projected, and formed a platform outside the
hut, were piles of dried pumpkins, melons, &c.
He informed me that he had commenced improving the land one year
before, and by hard labor, he, together with his wife and children, had
a home, and were more plentifully supplied with the comforts of life
than any other rancho on the road between Rosario and Mendoza.
The canal that ran past his hut watered beds of onions, beans, garlic,
and many other vegetables not often found on the road.
His wife, a dark-complexioned woman, with “_para servir à vd_,”
welcomed me to their cabin, and spread upon a trunk of an algarroba
a small piece of white cloth, and upon this placed a dish containing
a stew of beans, onions, corn, and meat, well-seasoned with garlic.
They would not receive anything for their kindness, but when I left
presented me with a fine pumpkin, which I in turn gave to the peons.
From this place we travelled very slowly until four o’clock, when we
halted to feed the oxen. The peons, though they had eaten heartily
three hours before, roasted large slices of meat, and ate a quantity
during the next half hour that would have astonished the followers of
Graham. These people can go without eating for an astonishing length of
time; but when an opportunity offers for gormandizing, they will rival
Claudius Albinus himself. I dare not mention how many steaks, each
averaging two pounds, Facundo could devour in a day; nor should I wish
to state that he thought nothing of eating three pumpkins at a single
meal.
At dusk the creaking of wheels and loud cries of men announced that
a troop from Mendoza was approaching, and a young man came galloping
in advance, and greeted our _patron_ as an old acquaintance. The oxen
of the troop, fresh from Mendoza, contrasted strangely with our lean
animals, some of which could scarcely walk.
The next morning we were on the road very early, for it now became
evident that unless our journey was soon terminated our cattle would
give out; and the carts thus situated would be in an unlucky situation.
The next town was Santa Rosa, once the headquarters of the Jesuits, who
held religious sway over all the pampa territories when the country was
under the control of Spain.
The place was nothing more than a collection of mud huts and corn
ranches. The inhabitants, however, supported a small store.
The only signs of life in the hamlet were from a party of women
weaving, and two or three half-Indian girls chasing a flock of goats
and sheep. The country around the place was covered with low bushes,
and, judging by appearances, I concluded that the place had seen its
best days. Many poor families were supported by a flock of twenty or
thirty goats and sheep, the latter providing sufficient wool, from
which their garments were made; and as the goats breed twice a year,
they had plenty of animal food to satisfy their wants. Beyond this
place our caravan entered a straight, broad road, shaded with tall
poplars, which were planted in regular rows on each side of the street,
and afforded a pleasant shade for the traveller.
Following the road for two or three miles, we encamped for the night
in Alto Verde, where were the best houses seen by us since leaving
Rosario. The frames were of poplar, and were well put together, the
roof projecting sufficiently to form a veranda. All articles of food
were cheaper here than at any of the towns passed by our troop. Three
or four large watermelons were given for a medio (6¹⁄₄ cents), and two
loaves of bread for the same amount of money.
During the day following we passed scattered houses, and large pastures
of _alfalfa_, separated from each other by fences of growing poplars.
Our _patron_, now felt compelled to purchase fodder for the oxen, and
he obtained the privilege of pasturing them for the night, and until
the day following, for three dollars; which, considering the number of
animals (over one hundred), was a very small sum.
As we encamped in the highway, we were disturbed in our slumbers all
the night by the numerous troops of mules and racing gauchos who were
continually passing and repassing, while flocks of wild fowl flew over
our carts, shaping their course to the south. The following morning
we reached Villa Nueva. The roads were very sandy, which gave great
trouble to the oxen. Before taking our last meal we halted for the
night.
On the next morning we started very early, following a lonely road,
without seeing a rancho. About noon we crossed the River Mendoza,
which, at the place of crossing, was narrow, with a current setting to
the northward. I had some difficulty in effecting a passage without
getting wet.
While the carts were forming a double line, and commencing other
preparations for halting, I disrobed, and, under cover of some stunted
bushes, bathed in the cold stream.
This was the third bath that I had enjoyed since leaving Rosario. The
peons laughed derisively at a gringo who could not travel eight hundred
miles without washing himself. These disgusting fellows, with one or
two exceptions, had not applied water to their skin for more than forty
days, and did not intend to cleanse themselves until the troop was
close upon Mendoza.
From a few mud houses beyond a rising ground, not far from the river,
came several men and women, bringing peaches and melons in their
ponchos, together with baskets of native manufacture, filled with
two kinds of grapes, one variety of which was the white Muscatel. At
different points near this river my attention had been attracted by a
disease very prevalent among the people, which exhibited itself in the
form of a large swelling upon the throat, and was called by the natives
the _coté_ (goitre).
One poor fellow, who had a very large _coté_, informed me that it was
caused by drinking the water of the stream, and that large swellings
had come out upon his thighs, from laboring several weeks in the water.
A young cow that had been purchased on the road was the only tender
meat that we had eaten since leaving Rosario. The peons gorged
themselves until they could eat no more, and ate, perhaps, more than
they would have done had not the _patron_ been absent; he had gone to
Mendoza in order to advertise in the only paper in the province that
his troop would make its _entrée_ into the Plaza Nueva on the following
day.
Owing to our proximity to the great town, several of the Santia
gueños changed their minds about ablutions, and busied themselves in
making preparations for the _entrée_. I watched their movements with
considerable interest, for in making their toilet the comb of Don
Manuel passed around the group, and received generous patronage, the
little dog that belonged to my friend and the woman coming in for their
share of its use.
The ball having once been set in motion, the excitement to appear
neat became so great that some of the peons actually shook the dust
out of their _chiropas_, and put on clean drawers, that had been long
kept for some great occasion. While the men beat their ponchos upon
the wagon-wheels, the woman entered a cart to make her toilet; and
so changed was her appearance an hour after, when she appeared clad
in a new calico dress, with her hair neatly plaited in two braids,
after the fashion, formerly, of young girls in our own country, that I
involuntarily raised my sombrero, which attention she very pleasantly
acknowledged. But, as is usually the case with mothers, she had
expended the principal part of her labor and finery upon her little
girl, whose appearance had been greatly improved.
[Illustration: THE CARAVAN AT REST.--Page 182.]
An hour before she had run along the banks of the river barefooted, and
with hair streaming in the wind; but now, with hair smoothly combed,
and little body decked out in a gay tunic, her black eyes sparkling
with fun, she seemed to have been transformed from a wild Indian girl
into an interesting little lady.
After again eating, the troop moved on until sunset, passing several
dilapidated houses, and two or three dirty _pulperias_ (stores). Our
camping-ground proved to be a bad selection, as it was on a low plain,
part morass, and covered with tall weeds. The peons tried to compel
me to fill the jars with water at a pond, the direction of which they
pointed out to me in the dark; but I informed them, through a little
fellow that spoke Spanish, that, as I was aware of our proximity
to Mendoza, all further orders from them would be disregarded.
Furthermore, I stated that there were people in the town which we
were soon to enter who could converse equally well in English and in
Spanish, and if they, the peons, attempted any more insulting acts, the
matter would be exposed. This answer they evidently did not relish, for
they became very angry, and conversed among themselves in their own
language, evidently making threats of some kind against me.
Before retiring, I conversed with the old Indian, who was my friend,
and he promised to receive my little property, snugly packed in a
canvas bag, into his cart.
The night passed without any incident, and when daylight came we were
already on the march. As the troop was not to enter the town until
the following morning, I partook of an _asado_ for the last time,
and, discarding my pampa costume, and dressing after the fashion of
civilized men, I set out in advance of the company for Mendoza, which
was twelve miles distant. The whole plain, over which our road lay, was
covered with a curious bush, growing in clumps from three to six feet
in height, and bearing a yellow pod, resembling in shape a screw. The
houses that were scattered along the road were built in the old Spanish
style. When within three or four miles of the town, a continuous line
of buildings commenced, which was broken only by green pastures of
_alfalfa_, surrounded by mud walls and extensive vineyards, the vines
of which bent to the ground from the weight of the fruit they bore.
Upon the walls of the houses, suspended from canes, hung, drying in the
sun, bunches of the fruit just mentioned; and, seeing a great number
of casks and barrels in almost every yard, I judged that each farmer
manufactured his own wine.
Oranges, lemons, limes, peaches, and olives were everywhere abundant,
while occasionally the eye rested with pleasure upon a pomegranate, or
palm-tree.
Within the yards, surrounded by high enclosures, were piles of melons
and pumpkins; and ranges of jars, filled with olives just stripped from
the trees, stood beneath the verandas of the houses.
The people seemed very hospitable. Twice the proprietors of different
_quintas_ came out, and persuaded me to enter their residences and
partake of food, saying that everything they possessed was at my
disposal, and that the foreigners received their great respect.
“How knew you that I was a foreigner?” I asked.
“By your countenance and your walk,” was the reply.
An old man detained me a long time to inquire the prices of North
American goods.
“What is the value of this article in your country?” he asked, holding
up to my view a cheap earthen mug.
“About a medio,” I replied.
“What rogues!” he exclaimed. “In Mendoza they charged me three times
that sum. Tell me, friend, why did you neglect to bring some with you?
You would have been a rich man soon.”
The day was the Sabbath, which is regarded as a holiday in this
country. The _pulperias_ by the roadside were thronged by the gauchos,
some gambling, and others dancing to the sound of the guitar, while
a few lay drunk upon the ground. About two o’clock, after leaping
several streams of water that ran along the streets, I entered Mendoza,
and, after many unsuccessful inquiries, found myself in the _calle de
comercio_, where I luckily met with a Frenchman who spoke a little
English, and to him made known my wishes regarding my proposed journey
across the Andes to Chili.
The Frenchman informed me that an English physician, Dr. D., who had
resided several years in Mendoza, and had ingratiated himself into the
favor of the government, was just the person to apply to, as he could
give me any information relative to the Chili road. At the moment the
doctor himself came up, mounted upon a fine horse, and returning from a
visit to the country.
I handed him the letters given me by Mr. Graham, and inquired if
either of the two persons to whom they were directed were in Mendoza;
he returned them to me, rather brusquely saying that _he_ was not an
_American_ physician; and as for Mr. Allen Campbell, he had left
two months ago for Santa Fé. In as delicate a manner as possible, I
informed Dr. D. of my object in visiting his adopted country; that I
was a stranger, and unacquainted with the language, and hinted that if
some person conversant with the dialect would make inquiries regarding
troops of mules that might be leaving for Chili, he would be doing me a
favor that I could not too highly appreciate. To this the doctor drew
himself up stiffly, and replied, impatiently,--
“If you wish to cross to Chili, the only method of procuring necessary
information is to inquire of the native merchants, who often send
troops across the Cordillera. According to the last accounts the
mountains were passable, though the Chili mail has not yet arrived.”
I answered, “Doctor, I am unacquainted with the language, save the
little I have acquired upon the road; and if several days are lost by
me in fruitless inquiry, the mountains will be closed, and I shall be
obliged to remain here for the next six months.”
“Very well,” he answered, touching his horse at the same time with his
silver spurs. “It is only among the merchants that you will receive the
information.” And he was soon out of sight.
The Frenchman, who had been a listener to the conversation, exclaimed,
energetically, “Vat a tam fool! He might speak one word, and find
plentee mules going to Chili: he much puffed up with practeese. Come to
my home, and I will find you a troop of mules to-morrow. I loves the
Americans; they is tam goot fellows!”
On our way to his lodgings, my new acquaintance suddenly remembered
that there was a party of North Americans in town, and at my request he
led me to their house. They were professional gentlemen, my guide said,
but of what particular branch of science he could not tell. Never was
I more surprised than when the Frenchman introduced me to four young
men, whose flag, as it waved above their house, announced them as the
Circo Olimpico (Olympic Circus), from North America. The director of
the company, Mr. Daniel H., of Utica, New York, had left the States for
Mexico thirteen years before, and was with the American army through
the war between the two republics.
After peace had been established, he freighted a small vessel, and,
landing upon the northern coast of South America, had since travelled
over nearly all the countries of the continent.
Of the original number that left with him, he was the only survivor. As
soon as one performer had died, or retired from the profession, some
strolling _provistero_ was always found to fill the vacancy.
While the company travelled in the upper countries of Bolivia, Peru,
New Granada, and Ecuador, success followed them; for silver is more
plenty among the middle and poorer classes of those republics that
abound in rich mines than in the Argentine Republic. Here their good
fortune deserted them. They had crossed over the vast pampa country,
and, by giving here and there a _granfuncion_, had taken money enough
to enable them to reach Mendoza. Mr. H. informed me that he should
follow along the sierras of the Andes, and cross the great travesia
that covers several of the upper provinces, until he reached Potosi,
and from Bolivia the company would cross the Cordillera to Peru, where
better luck would surely meet them.
Being the latest arrival from North America, I had to answer many
questions, as they had not heard from that country since leaving the
Paraná, twelve months before. At dusk a negro band played an air that
was very popular in the United States nine years before. With all the
facilities of communication that exist between the two countries, the
song and accompanying music had just reached Mendoza, a town supposed
by its inhabitants to be first in the scale of civilization and
refinement.
The following morning I visited the Plaza Nueva, where the carts of
our caravan were discharging their cargoes, and received from the old
Indian my bag.
We parted pleasantly, and I only regretted that my present to him could
not have been as great, proportionately, as my regard for him. The
_patron_ and _capataz_ commended me to the care of my Maker, and wished
that many years might be added to my life, to which civil speech I made
an appropriate reply. As for the peons, they said nothing, nor even
comforted me with a single glance or nod of good feeling.