MENDOZA.
Two or three days were passed in inquiring for a troop of mules
bound for Chili, but no information could be obtained of any, and I
afterwards learned that the last troop of the season had left Mendoza
on the day after my arrival, and had barely succeeded in reaching Chili
with their lives.
For twenty-one days the Andes were enveloped in clouds, the dark and
portentous appearance of which was terrible to behold. I passed hours
of each day in watching the fierce _temporales_, as the natives called
them, that came rolling along the summit of the sierras from the
regions of Cape Horn, covering, in their mad career, whole ranges of
mountains in a mantle of snow. To have attempted a passage at that time
would have been certain death; so with all the philosophy that could be
drawn from irremediable disappointment, I became resigned to my fate to
remain in the interior of the country until the genial sun of another
spring should melt the snow-drifts that blocked up the passes of the
Andes.
The old Spanish town of Mendoza is situated in latitude 32° 51′
south, longitude 67° 57′ west, at the foot of the eastern declivity
of the Andes. It was laid out in _cuadras_, or squares, the sides
of which were one hundred and fifty yards long. It contained, at the
time of my visit, nearly ten thousand inhabitants. Of the two plazas
the Independence was the most celebrated, because of the fountain
it contained. This fountain, however, was dry when I was there, the
aqueduct having become choked with leaves and stones; it had been
permitted to remain in this useless state for some time, and I was of
the opinion that it would still continue dry, as no attempt was made to
clear it out, and no plan was discussed by which it might in the future
be again in operation.
The _Alameda_, a much-talked-of public walk on the side of the town
nearest the mountains, was resorted to by all classes. An artificial
canal flowed beside the principal walk, watering a row of fine poplars,
beneath which were a few stone seats, where I often sat and watched the
different classes of the Mendozinos promenading after the _siesta_.
In a little mud hut, kept by a Chilino, I was surprised to find a
luxury not often met with in southern countries. Ice was brought from
the mountains on mules, and the inhabitants were enabled to enjoy their
creams at a trifling expense. It was in the _Alameda_ that I sometimes
had a glimpse of the governor of the province of Mendoza--Don Pedro
Pascual Segura. He was a man small in stature, and this characteristic
seemed to be general in the different traits of his character, for he
was of little energy, and had, consequently, little of the rascality
of his predecessors. He was literally small in everything, as the
following incident will show.
The Mendoza band belonged to the government, and Don Pedro had disposed
of their services by contract, for a certain sum of money, to the
theatrical company of Señor Rodenas, who had established himself in
the town a short time before my arrival. The North American Circus
Company came into the place soon after, and the director presented the
governor his compliments and a season ticket to the performances. As
the circus company wished to perform on the same evening as the company
of Señor Rodenas, and by so doing could not obtain the services of the
band, the governor, without further ceremony, broke the contract with
the theatre, and ordered half the musicians to the house of the North
Americans. This unjust act greatly injured the native performers, who
were poor, and had but just arrived from a distant part of the country.
The houses of Mendoza were one story high, and, unlike those of
Buenos Ayres, were built of _adobes_, which were covered with mud and
whitewashed. These, like the dwellings of that city, had a dreary,
prison-like appearance. The _patio_, or yard, was in the centre of
the building, and was accessible by a large, heavy door, called the
_puerto-calle_. A door from each room opened into the yard, where,
in the summer months, the household, including servants, usually
slept, for the climate near the mountains has not the heavy dews of
the pampas. The roofs were generally of mud, plastered upon canes,
bound together by strips of hide, which rested upon a rough frame of
willow, poplar, and a hard kind of wood resembling the _algarroba_. The
_adobes_ were made near the spot where the building was to be erected
when sufficient material could be procured. Mud, trodden fine by horses
and mixed with straw, was placed in moulds about twenty by eight
inches, and four or five deep, and, after being removed, the adobe was
allowed to dry in the sun’s heat for two or three weeks. Outside the
town a rough, square brick was made, which served to floor the houses
of the rich, and was covered by a carpet of European manufacture.
The town, at the time of my visit, was liberally supplied with
churches, and had a convent. The priests bore a much better character
than those of the northern countries of the continent, as in most
places where Catholicism exists they have a strong influence over
the lower classes, and fill the narrow streets of the town with
processions, much to the annoyance of every one who is obliged to
kneel uncovered as they pass along. One foreigner told me that when
he entered the place for the first time, he halted his horse in the
plaza, through which a crowd of people were hurrying with lighted
candles and crucifixes. The priest observing that he did not recognize,
by humiliating himself, the respect due them, sent a vigilante, who
threatened to run him through with the bayonet if he did not dismount
from his horse and kneel upon the ground. There being no protecting
power nearer than Buenos Ayres, or Santiago in Chili, a foreigner must
go through these debasing forms, do homage to man, or feel the point of
the bayonet or sword, “for there is no protection for _gringos_ in the
provinces north and west of Buenos Ayres.”
This I had told me more than once by officers of the government of
this republic that pretends to copy the principles that have been
expounded by Washington, Jefferson, Adams, and Lafayette. I always kept
a bright lookout when abroad, and the instant the shaven heads of the
good fathers appeared I turned the first corner, and stopped not until
two squares were between us.
At a certain season of the year a mock Christ was crucified by the
priests. The deluded people, believing it to be the true Savior, wept
as they beat their breasts, and cried out with compassion. At these and
other services of the church, as the mass and vesper prayer, the men
formed a very small portion of the congregation, but the women were
constant attendants, and were continually at the confessional.
One young lady with whom I was acquainted made it a rule to confess
three times a week. This she continued to do for the space of one
year, when good Father Maximo became so weary of her appearance or of
her sins, that he told her to come once in seven days, and he would
pardon the whole at once. Every morning the early riser met with little
parties of females returning from early mass, chatting pleasantly as
they proceeded to their homes. Each female who could afford it had a
servant, who followed behind with an _alfombra_ (mat), upon which the
lady sat while in church. The children always went on before, that they
might be under the eye of the matron who watched them, particularly if
they were young ladies, with a degree of vigilance equal to that of the
dueñazas of old Spain.
While speaking of churches and church-goers I will not omit mentioning
a few facts relative to one Padre A. and his family, whose fame is
wide-spread in the other provinces of the republic. This A. was a
priest in the church of San Domingo, and, breaking his vow, acquainted
Rosas with the thoughts and actions of those who had unbosomed
themselves to him.
His villanous character began to show itself, and throwing aside the
padre’s cloak, he took the sword, and became one of the bloodiest
generals that Mendoza had ever supported. His deeds of cruelty made him
known throughout the country. His family, which had, during his career,
enjoyed a notoriety, sank into obscurity after his death.
Several years since, a daughter of the padre, who had distinguished
herself for her licentious conduct, performed a journey, in company
with her sister and another young lady,--all wild girls,--that proved
no less disastrous than it was foolish in design.
The three girls, attired in gaucho costume, set out on horseback, and
_not_ with side-saddles, to cross the Cordillera of the Andes. The trip
was successful. They entered Chili without meeting any obstacle to mar
their happiness, and after having passed a few weeks with friends,
started to return to the Argentine Republic. The guides warned them
of coming _temporales_, but they had tarried from home too long to
protract their stay; perhaps to be obliged to remain in Chili until the
winter’s snows were gone. They entered the mountains, and somewhere
near the Cumbre pass, a storm broke upon them, and only two of the
females escaped with their lives.
Each church in Mendoza had several bells, which were far from
melodious, having a tinkling sound, and the manner in which they
were rung reminded me of our national air. But the people were well
satisfied with these discordant sounds, and one of the priests, who
had returned from a visit to England, on being asked how he liked that
country, replied,--
“England is a fine country, superior to ours in everything save
one--the English do not know how to chime their bells.”
A theatre of two stories in height had been built under the supervision
and at the expense of a certain “scientific gentleman,” and though the
building was but a whitewashed structure, it raised the gentleman to
enviable fame. He was pointed out to me as a profound man, a geologist
and astronomer, and furthermore the government would not raise a wall
or dig an _acquia_ without first consulting Don Carlos’s opinion.
Though a native of the country, he assumed to be an Italian, but
did not succeed in convincing the people to that effect when I left
Mendoza. I was told that the don had acquired his principal knowledge
of engineering, &c., while assisting Lieutenant Archibald Macrae, of
the United States Naval Astronomical Expedition, two or three years
before, in taking the altitudes of certain places in the Andes. Don
Carlos occasionally turned aside from his researches in science, and
amused himself, or became the amuser of the more talented portion of
the Mendozinos. Once he collected an eager crowd of people by mounting
the roof of a house, and pretending, by means of the needle of the
compass, to determine the course and distance of a comet, which,
with fiery tail, looked so ominously as to cause many of the gaucho
population to believe that the town was about to be destroyed.
I was convinced that the Mendozinos were the most peaceable and
hospitable people of the republic, and showed more respect to
foreigners than was customary where the old dogmas and customs of the
Spanish prevailed. I could not perceive any difference between the
higher classes of this town and those of Buenos Ayres in the matter of
complexion.
They had as light skins as any Spaniard that I had met in the last
named city, and generally retained the purity of blood. The lower
classes differed, however. They were of every type that exists in the
republic west of Paraná and south of latitude 28°, being composed of
peons of the different provinces, while the blood of the Indian and
negro courses through the veins of many. They were very immoral and
exceedingly ignorant, but were kind-hearted and courteous to strangers.
Much time was wasted in dancing and other frivolous amusements. The
females of all grades embroidered with skill, and showed great taste in
the selection of their patterns. The bonnet was not worn, but a shawl,
covering the head and falling gracefully about the form, supplied its
place, the temperature being so mild and uniform that no warmer head
covering was needed.
I noticed that the ladies painted their cheeks in an extravagant
manner; a custom that we should not suppose would have gained entrance
to such an isolated place. In San Juan, one hundred and fifty miles
to the north, I saw nothing of this, and was told that it was of rare
occurrence.
Mendoza was a very healthy place at the time I was there. I learned
that many persons, troubled with complaints that usually end in
consumption, after residing there a few years were restored to health.
But there was one form of disease which was said by the physicians to
be incurable, and which in our own country would lead to a desertion of
the site.
This was the goitre of the medical fraternity, and, as I have before
mentioned, is known among the people as the _coté_. The disease
appeared in the form of a large swelling on the throat, which was
caused by the mineral qualities of the River Mendoza.[3] The canals
that supplied the citizens of the town ran through nearly every street,
and each family procured their water from them.
The richer portion of the inhabitants had filters, or drip-stones,
through which the water was allowed to pass, and become free from all
vegetable matter. Now the question presented itself to me, Did the
water, in passing through the fine drip-stone, rid itself of any of
its mineral properties? and I was led to the opinion that it did, from
noticing the fact that the richer classes, having their water thus
filtrated, were rarely troubled with the goitre, while the poor people,
who drank from the canal itself, presented the disease in all its forms
upon them. In fact, the goitre seemed to be a part of their person,
for every sixth or seventh female, and now and then a man, that I met
during a morning walk, exhibited the disagreeable symptoms.
At San Vicente, a small village, four miles from the town, the goitre
could be examined in all its forms; “for,” said an individual to me
while in Mendoza, “I fully believe that every fourth woman in the place
is affected by it.” It was not a rare thing to see a large swelling
on both sides of the throat, so large as to be absolutely disgusting.
There was in the neighborhood of Mendoza a spring of fine water, but
only a few of the citizens took advantage of its existence.
Mendoza had, when I was there, a good school for the instruction of
the young, who, like most creoles, acquired knowledge very quickly.
A young Englishman was at the head of the establishment, and in all
respects the school seemed prospering. Besides the school there was a
public library containing three or four thousand volumes, which, if
consulted, could not fail to be of benefit to the inhabitants, who were
extremely ignorant of things unconnected with their immediate vicinity.
The people had recently started a newspaper, “El Constitucional,”
and, judging by the pompous leaders of the gentleman who occupied the
editorial chair, a stranger would have been led to believe that Mendoza
was the greatest and most important city on the globe.
For their press, types, etc., they were indebted to Mr. Vansice,
formerly of Utica, N. Y., who came to this country several years
before, and by his energy became of great assistance to the government
of the province. He remodelled many old forms, and liberalized the
ideas of the people to such an extent that they encouraged him to
revisit North America, and obtain many articles, the introduction
of which have facilitated the different kinds of labor in which the
people were engaged; and following out this plan to a greater
extent, a company was forming, the object of which was to send to the
United States for machines, tools, &c. Mr. Vansice furnished two other
provinces, also, with printing materials, and used all possible effort
to establish a public press on a substantial basis.
[Illustration: PATAGONIANS. (From a Photograph.)--Page 207.]
After filling offices of dignity and honor, he retired to the miserable
little village of San José del Moro, where he resided with his native
wife, carrying on a profitable business in English goods, which were
brought from Valparaiso.
While I was in Mendoza, the celebration and festivities of the 25th
of May, the independence day of the republic, took place, and were
celebrated with unusual enthusiasm. For several days previous the
people were engaged in preparing for the festivities, though not half
of the lower classes knew for what reason the celebration was made, so
ignorant were they of their country’s history. The government, for one
hundred dollars, secured the services of the North American performers,
and under their direction a ring of adobes was constructed in the
centre of the plaza, and close beside it a rostrum for the governor,
his suite, and the musicians. The news of the _granfuncion_ that was
to take place spread far into the country, and three days prior to
the 25th the gauchos came galloping into town from all parts of the
province. At sunrise, on the great day, I visited the plaza in which
the populace was pouring, the whole forming a most picturesque scene.
Gauchos, gayly attired, were mounted upon horses decked out with silver
ornaments, and tails braided with ribbons, and galloping about in
little parties. Some farmers came into town, accompanied by their wives
and daughters, and it was no uncommon thing to see two women, each
with a child in her arms, riding on the same horse with a man. At such
galas one sees a degree of life and animation not to be met with at
other times; for, as soon as the festival is over, the people sink into
a most indolent state, and remain so until the next _dia de fiesta_
arouses them to life and action.
The school-boys sang the national hymn, and the governor swore to
support the constitution, after which a military review took place. The
several companies, as they marched around the plaza, were preceded by a
trumpeter, who blew terrific blasts as the occasion required. All the
foot soldiers carried old English muskets, the cavalry being armed with
short carbines or lances.
Two cannon, the only pieces of artillery in the province, were drawn
by foot-soldiers, dressed, like the others, in white pantaloons
and jackets, and from beneath the former hung the frill of the
gaucho drawers. While the review was taking place, the bells of all
the churches were pealing in their usual manner, and rockets were
constantly sent off though the sun shone brightly, which, of course,
did not heighten the pyrotechnic display. Nearly every house showed a
flag, and among them I observed the English colors floating from the
house of the courteous (?) English physician.
During the day many of the gauchos attempted to climb a greased pole
erected in the plaza, upon the top of which money had been placed; but
not one succeeded in gaining the coveted prize. The only decoration in
the plaza was a hexagonal figure, resembling a Chinese lantern, and
covered with white cloth. Upon each side was painted a figure, one of
Liberty, one of Justice, and another, a portrait of General Urquiza and
our own Washington, side by side.
The stand was decorated with the flags of the South American republics,
and the only foreign one was that of the United States, which floated
over the figure of Washington, beside which was a quotation from one of
his speeches delivered to the American people.
The circus performance passed off to the delight of all, and the
equestrians who could so skilfully perform upon a galloping horse were
declared by the gauchos to have been trained for the occasion by his
satanic majesty.
Just after the 25th, the Mendozinos were thrown into a great excitement
by the announcement that a cacique, attended by fifty of his men, had
left his native plains of Patagonia, and was rapidly approaching the
town.
Upon the receipt of the news, the governor called together all the
musicians, and sent them to escort the savages into Mendoza. The chief
encamped outside the town, and, having obtained an interview with the
governor, presented, in the most barefaced manner, a petition from his
tribe which any other government would have recognized as an insult,
and treated it as such. He wished to be told how much per month his
tribe would be allowed if they would not steal any more.
Instead of sending them off about their business, or seizing them,
the governor treated them like spoiled children, promising them an
allowance if they behaved well, and distributing presents among them,
after which they were escorted to their own country, fourteen days’
travel from Mendoza, by a party of soldiers commanded by an officer.
A day or two before the departure of these Indians, while I was
transacting some business in a store, the chief entered, followed by
two of his tribe. This beardless savage was dressed in a full English
suit, that he had undoubtedly stolen somewhere, as his tribe were
notorious robbers.
He addressed me, through an interpreter, in broken Spanish.
Probably suspecting that I was a foreigner, he asked if “Ropa” (Europe)
was not my home. He had no knowledge of any other country, but supposed
that all foreigners came from the same land on the other side of a
great water. I told him concerning my native land, and in the course of
the conversation remarked that we had a great many Indians, but that
they generally used fire-arms; at which he probably set me down as
being as great a liar as himself.
According to his own story, he was a good man, a rich man, and a
friend to humanity, and to foreigners in particular, he had the same
hypocritical way of talking as the natives of Mendoza, and I came to
the conclusion that they had mutually assisted each other in their
education.
After scrutinizing the various objects about him, he at length asked
me, with a grunt, to lend him four reals. Of course I refused him; but
I was curious to learn more of him, and my refusal was not made in the
most decided tone possible. He smiled grimly, and commenced telling a
long story of his beautiful house (?) far away in Patagonia, where I
should always be a welcome visitor. He had vast numbers of ostriches
and guanacos running about his grounds, all of which should be at my
disposal if I would but accompany him back to the pampas. He liked
foreigners, because they were braver than the gauchos. Pausing in the
midst of his harangue, he gave me a punch in the ribs, and asked to be
accommodated with three reals. I again refused. Taking up the thread
of his story, he continued at great length, finally promising to bring
me a tame guanaco when he returned to Mendoza. Here followed another
poke, and a request for two reals, then one, and finally promising to
be content with a medio. I gave it to him, and he left me.
The circus performers intended leaving Mendoza for San Juan, a town
lying one hundred and fifty miles to the north, and earnestly wished
me to accompany them. To me it mattered little whether I remained
four months in Mendoza or any other place; but before accepting their
invitation I called upon the _correo_, or Chilian courier, to see if I
could possibly cross the Cordillera with him. The _correo_ was away on
the passage, and the postmaster-general believed that he was detained
by the _temporales_ that had been raging, and would not return for
several weeks.
In crossing the mountains during the winter season, four men form the
_correo_. One carries the mail, another wood, another provisions,
&c. They do not leave either side oftener than once a month, and
are sometimes a whole month in performing the journey, as they are
frequently shut up in the snow-huts that are scattered along the road
for many days at a time.
The _casuchas_, or snow-huts, are scattered along the trail at
irregular distances. These huts are built of brick with an entrance
so constructed as to be above the drifting snow. The post party left
Mendoza on mules, or horses, and proceeded into the mountains as far
as the depth of snow would permit. Peons then took back the animals,
leaving the _correo_ to continue the journey on foot. This was the
custom at the time of my visit. Upon reaching the main chain of the
Andes, the state of the atmosphere was carefully studied, and if the
result proved favorable they ascended the Cordillera.
When upon the western side of the chain, the party sometimes adopted
an ingenious method for facilitating their progress. Each man carried
with him a square piece of hide, upon which he sat, and descended the
inclined surfaces with much ease and great rapidity. After reaching
Santa Rosa, the first town upon the western side, the _correo_ mounts a
horse, and gallops to Santiago, the capital of the republic, which is
about twenty leagues from the village.
Upon the 5th of June the _correo_ had not returned; and as there was
no possibility of my crossing into Chili, I consented to go to San
Juan, and set out about dusk with the circus manager and one of his
men for a _quinta_ outside the town, from which we were to start the
next morning. The owner of the _quinta_ had agreed to take charge
of the company’s mules and baggage, and act as guide to our party
while crossing the dreary _travesia_. We passed, by moonlight, the
burial-ground on the outskirts of the town, and reached the muleteer’s
house, where we found the family sleeping in the yard,--men, women, and
dogs, promiscuously.
As I probably shall not in this volume again have occasion to refer to
the town of Mendoza, I will here speak of its destruction, which, as
my readers doubtless are aware, occurred in 1861, from an earthquake.
This most terrible catastrophe, in which thousands of human beings lost
their lives, has rarely found a parallel in the history of the western
hemisphere.
A recent traveller, who visited the place after the calamity, says, in
describing the ruins,--
“I arose at an early hour, and sallied forth to see and contemplate the
ruins of the doomed city.
“I walked along the fine avenue of poplars (the Alameda) for about a
hundred yards, and turned into the right; a few paces brought me into
the nearest street, where I was absolutely struck dumb and immovable
with horror at the scene which presented itself.
“As I gazed along the whole length of that street, not a single house
was there to be seen standing; all was a confused mass of ‘adobes,’
beams, and bricks.
“The street was filled upon a level with what remained of the walls of
the houses on either side, which at a glance accounted for the fearful
number of victims--upwards of twelve thousand--entombed beneath the
ruins of that fatal 20th of March, 1861.
“From the plaza I turned towards the north, and there saw the only
edifice, or rather portion of one, that had remained entire: it was the
theatre, which, having had a considerable quantity of timber in its
construction, remained partially uninjured. I ascended to the roof,
and got a fine view of the entire city. For a mile around on every
side nothing but a chaotic mass of ruins was visible,--the _débris_ of
a large city razed to the ground in an instant! On the left were the
ruins of what had been once a fine church, ‘Santo Domingo,’ the altar
and a portion of the arch being the only remaining traces of its former
sacred character.
“Looking away towards the south might be seen the still partially-erect
walls of ‘San Francisco,’ another fine church, which boasted of the
largest bell in the city. This bell was pitched from its position to a
considerable distance by the shock, and stuck between two towers on the
north side of the building, where it may be still seen, wedged in so
firmly that all attempts at removing it simply by lifting have failed.
On approaching ‘Santo Domingo,’ in order to examine it more closely, I
saw lying about its ‘precinct’ several human skeletons, and portions
of the human form protruding from beneath the masses of masonry. I was
almost sickened by the sight, and moved quickly away. In many parts of
the city I saw the same horrible exhibition,--skulls, arms, legs, &c.,
lying about, some still undecayed, especially near a convent on the
south side of the city.”
A gentleman who was buried under the ruins, and afterwards extricated,
in describing his experiences, says,--
“I stood at a table (about half-past eight, P. M.) in the centre of the
room, and was in the act of lighting a cigar, when the shock, preceded
by a low, rumbling noise, was first felt. It was slow for a moment in
the beginning; but from the noise, I concluded it was going to be
something more than ordinary; so I rushed into the street, and ran down
the middle, intending, if possible, to reach the Alameda. I had run
only some twenty paces when I felt as if I had been struck a heavy blow
on the back of the head, and was borne down to the earth in a moment. I
knew that the town was infested with rats and vermin of all kinds, and
that, sooner or later, they would not fail to find me out amongst the
thousands of victims entombed, like myself, beneath at least six feet
depth of ‘adobes.’”
Mr. Hinchliff, who visited Buenos Ayres, in writing of the earthquake,
says,--
“M. Bravart, a French _savant_ of some eminence, who had foretold
the destruction of the city by an earthquake, was himself among the
victims. The principal watchmaker in Buenos Ayres, which is about
eight hundred miles distant from the scene of this awful calamity,
told me a curious fact in connection with it. One day he observed with
astonishment that his clocks suddenly differed twelve seconds from his
chronometers; and when the news arrived, about a fortnight later, he
found that the pendulums of the former had been arrested at the moment
of the destruction of Mendoza.”
Since my return to the United States I received a letter from Don
Guillermo Buenaparte, of San Juan, in which he spoke at considerable
length of the earthquake. He wrote me that when he approached Mendoza,
three or four days after the catastrophe, the stench rising from the
dead bodies beneath the ruins was perceived at a distance of several
miles from the town. He found gauchos from the plains robbing the
wounded, and searching among the rubbish for plunder. When he reached
the public square of the city he found more than a hundred women, all
mentally affected, many entirely bereft of their reason; all were
praying on their knees, asking the Holy Mary to intercede for the lost
souls of their countrymen who had, prior to the fall of the doomed
city, united with others from San Luis, and had attacked and butchered
many of their political enemies (some four hundred) of San Juan. The
unfortunate lunatics seemed to think that God had overthrown their city
to avenge the murder of San Juaninos. A political conspiracy was being
planned in the city at the time it was destroyed.
Such a spectacle as the above needs no comment.
At four o’clock of the next morning after our departure from Mendoza,
the muleteer aroused us, and bade us prepare for the journey; and an
hour later we were journeying along the base of the lofty Andes, that
towered above our heads.
Two hours’ ride brought us to the _travesia_, over which we journeyed,
passing close to a great lake that is supplied by two streams that flow
from the Cordillera.
Much of the water is absorbed by the soil about the lake; and as but
very little escapes through one or two outlets, it has been called by
the natives “El Guana Cache,” or the Consuming Lake.
I afterwards saw specimens of fishes that had been taken from its
waters, which were offered for sale in San Juan by the half-starved
peons during the winter season, when provisions were very dear. If the
specimens did not belong to the genus Nematogenys of Girard, they were
closely allied to it.
At night our party stopped beside a rude hut, inhabited by a poor
gaucho. The hut contained a curious family of men, women, children,
dogs, goats, and fowls. The poor owner begged for a little sugar as a
_remedio_.
Throughout the following day our course was over the same dreary
desert, and at night we were glad to arrive at a post-house within a
few leagues of San Juan.
By noon of the next day our party entered the town, which is still more
isolated than Mendoza, being one hundred and fifty miles north of the
principal road to Chili.
FOOTNOTES:
[3] Undoubtedly the miserable food upon which the poor people subsisted
helped in encouraging the growth of this excrescence.