Spread before you a map of South America. Fix your eye on the point of
confluence between two of its great rivers--the Salado, which runs
south-easterly from the Andes mountains, and the Parana coming from the
north; carry your glance up the former to the town of Salta, in the
ancient province of Tucuman; do likewise with the latter to the point
where it espouses the Paraguay; then up this to the Brazilian frontier
fort of Coimbra; finally draw a line from the fort to the aforementioned
town--a line slightly curved with its convexity towards the Cordillera
of the Andes--and you will thus have traced a boundary embracing one of
the least known, yet most interesting, tracts of territory in either
continent of America, or, for that matter, in the world. Within the
limits detailed lies a region romantic in its past as mysterious in its
present; at this hour almost as much a _terra incognita_ as when the
boats of Mendoza vainly endeavoured to reach it from the Atlantic side,
and the gold-seekers of Pizarro's following alike unsuccessfully
attempted its exploration from the Pacific. Young reader, you will be
longing to know the name of this remarkable region; know it, then, as
the "Gran Chaco."
No doubt you may have heard of it before, and, if a diligent student of
geography, made some acquaintance with its character. But your
knowledge of it must needs be limited, even though it were as extensive
as that possessed by the people who dwell upon its borders; for to them
the Gran Chaco is a thing of fear, and their intercourse with it one
which has brought them, and still brings, only suffering and sorrow.
It has been generally supposed that the Spaniards of Columbus's time
subdued the entire territory of America, and held sway over its
red-skinned aborigines. This is a historical misconception. Although
lured by a love of gold, conjoined with a spirit of religious
propagandism, the so-called _Conquistadores_ overran a large portion of
both divisions of the continent, there were yet extensive tracts of each
never entered, much less colonised, by them--territories many times
larger than England, in which they never dared set foot. Of such were
Navajoa in the north, the country of the gallant Goajiros in the centre,
the lands of Patagonia and Arauco in the south, and notably the
territory lying between the Cordilleras of the Peruvian Andes and the
rivers Parana and Paraguay, designated "El Gran Chaco."
This vast expanse of champaign, large enough for an empire, remains to
the present time not only uncolonised, but absolutely unexplored. For
the half-dozen expeditions that have attempted its exploration, timidly
entering and as hastily abandoning it, scarce merit consideration.
And equally unsuccessful have been all efforts at religious propagandism
within its borders. The labours of the _padres_, both Jesuit and
Franciscan, have alike signally failed; the savages of the Chaco
refusing obedience to the cross as submission to the sword.
Three large rivers--the Salado, Vermejo, and Pilcomayo--course through
the territory of the Chaco; the first forming its southern boundary, the
others intersecting it. They all take their rise in the Andes
Mountains, and after running for over a thousand miles in a
south-easterly direction and nearly parallel courses, mingle their
waters with those of the Parana and Paraguay. Very little is known of
these three great streams, though of late years the Salado has received
some exploration. There is a better acquaintance with its upper
portion, where it passes through the settled districts of Santiago and
Tucuman. Below, even to the point where it enters the Parana, only a
strong military expedition may with safety approach its banks, by reason
of their being also traversed by predatory bands of the savages.
Geographical knowledge of the Vermejo is still less, and of the
Pilcomayo least of all; this confined to the territory of their upper
waters, long since colonised by the Argentine States and the Republic of
Bolivia, and now having many towns in it. But below, as with the
Salado, where these rivers enter the region of the Chaco, they become as
if they were lost to the geographer; even the mouth of the Pilcomayo not
being known for certain, though one branch of it debouches into the
Paraguay, opposite the town of Assuncion, the capital of Paraguay
itself! It enters the river of this name by a forked or _deltoid_
channel, its waters making their way through a marshy tract of country
in numerous slow flowing _riachos_, whose banks, thickly overgrown with
a lush sedgy vegetation, are almost concealed from the eye of the
explorer.
Although the known mouth of the Pilcomayo is almost within gun-shot of
Assuncion--the oldest Spanish settlement in this part of South America--
no Paraguayan ever thinks of attempting its ascent, and the people of
the town are as ignorant of the land lying along that river's shores as
on the day when the old naturalist, Azara, paddles his _periagua_ some
forty miles against its obstructing current. No scheme of colonisation
has ever been designed or thought of by them; for it is only near its
source, as we have seen, that settlements exist. In the Chaco no white
man's town ever stood upon its banks, nor church spire flung shadow
athwart its unfurrowed waves.
It may be asked why this neglect of a territory, which would seem so
tempting to the colonist? For the Gran Chaco is no sterile tract, like
most parts of the Navajo country in the north, or the plains of
Patagonia and the sierras of Arauco in the south. Nor is it a humid,
impervious forest, at seasons inundated, as with some portions of the
Amazon valley and the deltas of the Orinoco.
Instead, what we do certainly know of the Chaco shows it the very
country to invite colonisation; having every quality and feature to
attract the settler in search of a new home. Vast verdant savannas--
natural clearings--rich in nutritious grasses, and groves of tropical
trees, with the palm predominating; a climate of unquestionable
salubrity, and a soil capable of yielding every requisite for man's
sustenance as the luxury of life. In very truth, the Chaco may be
likened to a vast park or grand landscape garden, still under the
culture of the Creator!
But why not also submitted to the tillage of man? The answer is easy:
because the men who now hold it will not permit intrusion on their
domain--to them hereditary--and they are hunters, not _agriculturists_.
It is still in the possession of its red-skinned owners, the original
lords of its soil, these warlike Indians, who have hitherto defied all
attempts to enslave or subdue them, whether made by soldier, miner, or
missionary. These independent savages, mounted upon fleet steeds, which
they manage with the skill of Centaurs, scour the plains of the Chaco,
swift as birds upon the wing. Disdaining fixed residence, they roam
over its verdant pastures and through its perfumed groves, as bees from
flower to flower, pitching their _toldos_, and making camp in whatever
pleasant spot may tempt them. Savages though called, who would not envy
them such a charming _insouciant_ existence? Do not you, young reader?
I anticipate your answer, "Yes." Come with me, then! Let us enter the
"Gran Chaco," and for a time partake of it!