A WINTER IN SAN JUAN--CONTINUED.
With the approach of spring, the desert around the mill became a
constant source of study to me. The lagoon near the house was filled
with seven or eight species of ducks and teals, and occasionally a pair
of white swans might be seen upon the water, where they frequently
staid for several days in succession. The ducks remained throughout the
whole year; and before I left Causete, the _China_ or half-breed girls
were frequently seen swimming into the lagoon, where they captured
great numbers of the young fowl.
The green-winged teal, pin-tailed duck, and other species of the
northern continent, were far from uncommon.
One day, while standing in the doorway of the mill, attempting to get
a glimpse of a dim line of the point of the _Pié de palo_, where I had
been told that a beautiful region, called the “Fertile Valley,” lay
embosomed in trees, my attention was attracted to a dark spot in the
sierra, which seemed to be a hole in the rock. On the following day,
at sunset, I again distinguished the same dark spot: each day it grew
larger; and one morning an old miner came into the mill, and informed
me that a company of Chilenos were opening a vein; the situation of
the _sierra_, the peculiarities of the rock, &c., led him to doubt
of the practicability of the undertaking. How the party succeeded in
their search for gold I have not yet learned; but the antecedents of
the mountain are bad, for when the _sierra_ was discovered by the
early adventurers, in expectation of finding gold, they named it
_Pié de Oro_, or “Foot of Gold,” and afterwards, when they had been
disappointed in searching for the ore, they dropped the first name, and
called it that by which it is known at the present day--_Pié de Palo_,
or “Wooden Foot.”
The llama and other animals are found in the _sierra_ of this section,
which are also known--for what reason I never could learn--as the
mountains of Cordova. I had not time to visit the range when in
Causete, though I much desired to do so, as the old guides and miners
told many strange stories regarding it.
One evening, as I was in the mill at work, a servant came from the
house, saying that Don Guillermo wished to see me, and give me an
introduction to a guest who had just arrived. I repaired to the house,
where I made the acquaintance of the celebrated gaucho, _Diablo_
McGill. As he has quite a local notoriety, I will speak of him more
fully here than I otherwise would.
McGill was celebrated above most gauchos for his skill in using the
lasso, knife, and _boliadores_, and in the management of wild colts.
He was the handsomest herdsman that I ever saw, and was so polite and
easy in his intercourse with strangers that I at first doubted if he
was really the wild gaucho of whom I had heard so much. McGill was
the owner of a troop of mules, he left his native province to follow
the wandering life of a pampa merchant, because he despised his own
countrymen, and declared that they were all peons (laborers), and not
gauchos; for the province in which he was born, being situated upon
the desert, at the base of the Andes, contained very few cattle-farms,
and consequently the inhabitants were mostly traders, laborers, and
“loafers.”
He visited the province annually, and while in his native town
invariably played some mad prank to astonish the natives, and keep his
reputation as a _diablo_.
On feast days he dressed himself in the full habiliments of a herdsman,
a showy _chiropá_, finely-wrought drawers, heavy silver spurs, &c. His
horse was selected with care from his corral, and bedecked with silver
ornaments from the head to the tail, and a costly _recado_, or country
saddle, placed upon its back. Thus equipped, he would sally forth to
visit the various _pulperias_, or drinking-shops, where the gauchos
crowded to listen to his songs, and tales of mighty deeds transacted
while accompanying his troop of mules across the lonely pampas.
All the señoritas felt happy when McGill asked them to accompany him
through _la samba cueca_, _el gato_, or _la mariquita_, as the three
principal dances are styled, and she who could keep the wild gaucho by
her side for one half hour felt more gratified than if she had made a
dozen ordinary conquests. But the wild gaucho could not love a fair
señorita, though she might be the belle of the province. Horses, wild
colts, wild bulls, and wild gauchos were his chosen companions, and the
fair sex tried, but in vain, to find some uncovered spot upon which to
make an impression: he was impenetrable to the shafts of Cupid.
The story is told that, during one of his last visits Don Antonio
Moreno, who had always envied the success of McGill, challenged him to
prove his skill in the use of the lasso. McGill accepted the challenge,
and entered, lasso in hand, the corral of the jealous Don Antonio.
“I will do more than you challenge me to attempt,” said our hero,
coolly. “Here are five hundred mules in this circular yard, and as you
drive around the circle they run eight or ten abreast. Now, I will
stand in the middle, and as they pass around me you are to call out
which mule you wish lassoed, and upon what leg or part of the body the
animal is to be noosed. This you must do when the particular beast is
in front of me, so that I can throw the lasso _when she is behind me_.
As fast as one is caught, you are to remove her from the corral. Thus
will I catch each of the five hundred mules, without missing a single
throw, and catch them while they pass BEHIND MY BACK. Will that satisfy
you, Don Antonio Moreno?”
The other party looked incredulous. Don Antonio was himself a
first-rate gaucho and _rastreador_; he had seen good lassoing, but this
offer seemed preposterous.
“Go on, McGill,” he said, with a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders.
“When you have caught five hundred mules behind your back, I will pay
you well for your trouble.”
The gaucho took his place in the centre of the yard, and, as the mules
were driven around the circle, threw his lasso with unerring skill;
first one, then another, then a third, rolled over upon the ground,
always falling upon the head in a particular manner.
Don Antonio suspected the gaucho, and perceiving his object in throwing
the mules upon their heads, protested against it.
“You will break the necks of half of them!” he exclaimed to the gaucho,
who at the same moment, with a dexterous jerk on the lasso, sent
another mule, stunned, upon the ground.
“Stop!” he shouted. “McGill, what mean you by throwing the mules in
that manner?”
“What do I mean?” replied the herdsman, as another mule shared the same
fate of the last one. “What do I mean? Why, man, I mean to break the
necks of all your mules, that I may give you a certain proof that I
_can_ throw the lasso equal to, and better than, any San Juanino.”
“Enough! enough!” replied the excited don. “You have proved it; there
is no necessity of further effort. Besides, these mules are to be
driven across the Cordillera into Chili, and if you break their necks
it’s money out of my pocket. Had we not better enter the house? I
believe Doña Trinidad is ready to serve _maté_.”
When McGill rode forth upon a feast day as Gaucho Porteño, or Buenos
Ayrean herdsman, the peons of San Juan gazed with astonishment upon
his rich trappings. I have the list of articles that he and his
animal wore. Upon his favorite black horse were first placed three
_bageras_, or skins, to preserve the animal’s back from the chafing
of saddle-gear. Upon these were laid a heavy, fine-wrought _jergon_,
or blanket, to absorb the perspiration; over these were laid, first,
a _corona de vaca_, or cow’s hide covering, to give firmness to the
saddle; secondly, a _corona_ of fine leather, to hide the rougher
pieces beneath.
The latter article, which was richly embossed, was very ornamental, and
drew from the gauchos many admiring remarks. Upon this platform, or
foundation the _recardo_ was placed, and kept firmly in position by a
wide _cincha_, or girth, cut from softened, untanned hide. A _pellon_,
or sheepskin, was laid upon the saddle, and kept in its place by a
smaller girth. The _pellon_ was then covered with a small piece of
embroidered cloth, worked by the hands of some fair damsel. The lasso
lay upon the animal’s croup, behind the rider, and was attached to an
iron ring in the broad _cincha_. A pair of _alforjas_, or saddle-bags,
were thrown across the peak of the saddle, and around the animal’s neck
hung a leather rope, the _fiador_, used to tie him when feeding, though
the lasso is generally employed for that purpose.
Upon the peak of the saddle were swung the _chifles,_ two cows’ horns,
in which was carried wine or water,--fluids absolutely indispensable
upon the _travesia_ of San Luis.
From beneath the left side of the _coronas_, close by the peak of the
saddle, peeped the three balls, the well-known _boliadores_ (called in
most works of travel _bolas_), with which the gaucho secures game while
upon the road.
Hanging from the _fiador_ was a pair of _manes_, or shackles, for
the horse’s fore feet, which serve the same purpose as a pair of
handcuffs. If the rider wishes to leave his horse in the street, where
many travellers are passing, he places the _manes_ upon the animal’s
fore legs, and it is only with great difficulty that the beast can
slowly move about. Lastly, the bridle, a magnificent article, formed
of leather, and thickly studded with silver plates, and the horse was
equipped. McGill was dressed in the gala costume of a Buenos Ayrean
gaucho, with drawers of the finest needlework, and the _chiropá_, that
covered his loins, of costly silk. From this description the reader can
gain some idea of a fast man among the gauchos, for such was the guest
of Don Guillermo.
In this connection I may devote a few lines to a character well known
throughout the Provinces of La Plata--the _rastreador_, or trailer.
While the mill was in operation one afternoon, I had occasion to leave
the building, in order to let on more water from the _acquia_. While
attending to the flood-gate, I saw an old man slowly approaching the
mill, with his eyes bent upon the ground. He frequently stopped to
inspect the soil; then, continuing his course, he passed the mill, and
crossed the rude bridge that spanned the canal. Continuing along the
_travesia_ in the district of Anjuco, he was soon lost among the thorn
trees and thickets of _mata-gusano_. I thought no more of the old man,
supposing that he had probably lost some article, and was searching for
it. An hour later he returned to the mill, and said a few words to Don
Guillermo and several gauchos, who were waiting for their respective
turns at the hopper. In an instant the loom was vacated; the party
dispersed along the road, and as they occasionally came together near
the mill, I could see the old man giving some advice, upon which the
gauchos again dispersed. The party returned about eight o’clock, and
from the peons I learned that the old man was a trailer. He had been
walking along the road, and had noticed a footprint that struck him
as “deceitful.” He said that a man had passed the mill about three
o’clock, and that the man was a robber. “For he was dressed,” said the
trailer, “in woman’s clothes. There are places along his trail that
prove he held the dress up with his hands; in others it trailed along
the ground. He wore a woman’s shoe, which did not fit him; his foot
was broad, the shoe long and narrow. He walked in some places, and ran
through the thickets. No man dresses in woman’s garb without some bad
intent.”
“He is somewhere among the ranches of Anjuco.”
Wonderful to state, news came from town the next day that several
men had dressed themselves in female attire, and in that disguise
had visited the stores in the Calle Ancho, or Broadway, where they
had purloined many articles, which the rogues had hidden beneath
their dresses. It was the trail of one of these dresses that the old
_rastreador_ had struck.
The patriot Sarmiento, a San Juanino by birth, says of the
characteristics of these men, the trailers,--
“Once, as I was crossing a path that led into the Buenos Ayres road,
the muleteer that conducted me cast his eyes upon the ground, as was
his custom, and said a very good black mule passed here yesterday; she
had an easy gait, and was saddled; she belongs to the troop of Don
----. This man was coming from the _sierra_ of San Luis; the troop was
returning from Buenos Ayres.
“A year had passed since he had seen the black mule, the track of
which was confused with those of a whole troop, in a path not more
than two feet wide. But this keenness of perception, so apparently
incredible, is a faculty common to every gaucho; this man was a mere
muleteer, and not a professional trailer.”
He also describes another trailer in _La Vida de Juan_, Facundo
Quiroga, as follows:--
“I knew a trailer by the name of Calibar, who had practised his
profession in one province during forty successive years. He is now
nearly eighty years old, and though bowed with age, still retains a
venerable and dignified appearance.
“When they speak to him of his fabulous reputation, he answers, ‘I am
now useless; these are my children.’ It is said of him that during a
trip that he made to Buenos Ayres a saddle was stolen from his house.
“His wife covered the robber’s track with a wooden bowl. Two months
later Calibar returned home, and saw the almost obliterated footprint,
that to other eyes was imperceptible, and nothing more was said of the
occurrence. A year and a half afterwards Calibar was walking along a
street in the suburbs of the town, with his head inclined towards the
ground. He entered a house, and found a saddle, blackened, and almost
worthless from use; he had found the trail of the robber after a lapse
of two years.
“During the year 1830 a criminal had escaped from jail, and Calibar was
charged to find him. The unhappy man, knowing that he would be tracked,
had taken all the precautions which the fear of the scaffold could
invent.
“Useless precautions! Perhaps they only served to insnare him, for
Calibar felt that his reputation might be compromised, and self-pride
caused him to acquit himself well.
“The runaway took every advantage of the unevenness of the ground so as
to baffle his pursuer; but his efforts only proved the marvellous sight
of the _rastreador_.
“He walked the whole length of streets on tiptoe, then climbed low
walls, crossed a pasture, and returned in his own track.
“Calibar followed without losing the trail. If he momentarily missed
it, it was soon recovered. At last he arrived at a canal of water in
the suburbs, where the fugitive had followed the current, to foil the
trailer. But in vain! Calibar followed along the shore without any
uneasiness, and at last stopped to examine some grass, with the words,
‘At this place he came out; there is no track, but these drops of water
in the pasture indicate it.’
“The fugitive had entered a vineyard. Calibar surveyed with his eye
the walls that surrounded it, and said, ‘He is within.’ The party of
soldiers that attended him sought in the vineyard without success.
At length they became tired of hunting, and returned to report the
uselessness of their search. ‘He has not come out,’ was the brief
answer which the trailer gave, without moving himself, or proceeding
to a new examination. He had not come out, indeed; another search
discovered him, and on the following day he was executed.”