Set out for Buenos Ayres—Rio Sauce—Sierra Ventana—Third Posta—Driving
Horses—Bolas—Partridges and Foxes—Features of the Country—Long-legged
Plover—Teru-tero—Hail-storm—Natural Enclosures in the Sierra
Tapalguen—Flesh of Puma—Meat Diet—Guardia del Monte—Effects of Cattle
on the Vegetation—Cardoon—Buenos Ayres—Corral where Cattle are
slaughtered.
BAHIA BLANCA TO BUENOS AYRES.
_September_ 8_th._—I hired a Gaucho to accompany me on my ride to
Buenos Ayres, though with some difficulty, as the father of one man was
afraid to let him go, and another who seemed willing, was described to
me as so fearful that I was afraid to take him, for I was told that
even if he saw an ostrich at a distance, he would mistake it for an
Indian, and would fly like the wind away. The distance to Buenos Ayres
is about four hundred miles, and nearly the whole way through an
uninhabited country. We started early in the morning; ascending a few
hundred feet from the basin of green turf on which Bahia Blanca stands,
we entered on a wide desolate plain. It consists of a
crumbling argillaceo-calcareous rock, which, from the dry nature of the
climate, supports only scattered tufts of withered grass, without a
single bush or tree to break the monotonous uniformity. The weather was
fine, but the atmosphere remarkably hazy; I thought the appearance
foreboded a gale, but the Gauchos said it was owing to the plain, at
some great distance in the interior, being on fire. After a long
gallop, having changed horses twice, we reached the Rio Sauce: it is a
deep, rapid, little stream, not above twenty-five feet wide. The second
posta on the road to Buenos Ayres stands on its banks, a little above
there is a ford for horses, where the water does not reach to the
horses’ belly; but from that point, in its course to the sea, it is
quite impassable, and hence makes a most useful barrier against the
Indians.
Insignificant as this stream is, the Jesuit Falconer, whose information
is generally so very correct, figures it as a considerable river,
rising at the foot of the Cordillera. With respect to its source, I do
not doubt that this is the case; for the Gauchos assured me, that in
the middle of the dry summer this stream, at the same time with the
Colorado, has periodical floods, which can only originate in the snow
melting on the Andes. It is extremely improbable that a stream so small
as the Sauce then was should traverse the entire width of the
continent; and indeed, if it were the residue of a large river, its
waters, as in other ascertained cases, would be saline. During the
winter we must look to the springs round the Sierra Ventana as the
source of its pure and limpid stream. I suspect the plains of
Patagonia, like those of Australia, are traversed by many watercourses,
which only perform their proper parts at certain periods. Probably this
is the case with the water which flows into the head of Port Desire,
and likewise with the Rio Chupat, on the banks of which masses of
highly cellular scoriæ were found by the officers employed in the
survey.
As it was early in the afternoon when we arrived, we took fresh horses
and a soldier for a guide, and started for the Sierra de la Ventana.
This mountain is visible from the anchorage at Bahia Blanca; and
Captain Fitz Roy calculates its height to be 3340 feet—an altitude very
remarkable on this eastern side of the continent. I am not aware that
any
foreigner, previous to my visit, had ascended this mountain; and indeed
very few of the soldiers at Bahia Blanca knew anything about it. Hence
we heard of beds of coal, of gold and silver, of caves, and of forests,
all of which inflamed my curiosity, only to disappoint it. The distance
from the posta was about six leagues, over a level plain of the same
character as before. The ride was, however, interesting, as the
mountain began to show its true form. When we reached the foot of the
main ridge, we had much difficulty in finding any water, and we thought
we should have been obliged to have passed the night without any. At
last we discovered some by looking close to the mountain, for at the
distance even of a few hundred yards, the streamlets were buried and
entirely lost in the friable calcareous stone and loose detritus. I do
not think Nature ever made a more solitary, desolate pile of rock;—it
well deserves its name of _Hurtado_, or separated. The mountain is
steep, extremely rugged, and broken, and so entirely destitute of
trees, and even bushes, that we actually could not make a skewer to
stretch out our meat over the fire of thistle-stalks.[1] The strange
aspect of this mountain is contrasted by the sea-like plain, which not
only abuts against its steep sides, but likewise separates the parallel
ranges. The uniformity of the colouring gives an extreme quietness to
the view;—the whitish grey of the quartz rock, and the light brown of
the withered grass of the plain, being unrelieved by any brighter tint.
From custom one expects to see in the neighbourhood of a lofty and bold
mountain a broken country strewed over with huge fragments. Here Nature
shows that the last movement before the bed of the sea is changed into
dry land may sometimes be one of tranquillity. Under these
circumstances I was curious to observe how far from the parent rock any
pebbles could be found. On the shores of Bahia Blanca, and near the
settlement, there were some of quartz, which certainly must have come
from this source: the distance is forty-five miles.
[1] I call these thistle-stalks for the want of a more correct name. I
believe it is a species of Eryngium.
The dew, which in the early part of the night wetted the saddle-cloths
under which we slept, was in the morning frozen. The plain, though
appearing horizontal, had insensibly sloped
up to a height of between 800 and 900 feet above the sea. In the
morning (9th of September) the guide told me to ascend the nearest
ridge, which he thought would lead me to the four peaks that crown the
summit. The climbing up such rough rocks was very fatiguing; the sides
were so indented, that what was gained in one five minutes was often
lost in the next. At last, when I reached the ridge, my disappointment
was extreme in finding a precipitous valley as deep as the plain, which
cut the chain traversely in two, and separated me from the four points.
This valley is very narrow, but flat-bottomed, and it forms a fine
horse-pass for the Indians, as it connects the plains on the northern
and southern sides of the range. Having descended, and while crossing
it, I saw two horses grazing: I immediately hid myself in the long
grass, and began to reconnoitre; but as I could see no signs of Indians
I proceeded cautiously on my second ascent. It was late in the day, and
this part of the mountain, like the other, was steep and rugged. I was
on the top of the second peak by two o’clock, but got there with
extreme difficulty; every twenty yards I had the cramp in the upper
part of both thighs, so that I was afraid I should not have been able
to have got down again. It was also necessary to return by another
road, as it was out of the question to pass over the saddle-back. I was
therefore obliged to give up the two higher peaks. Their altitude was
but little greater, and every purpose of geology had been answered; so
that the attempt was not worth the hazard of any further exertion. I
presume the cause of the cramp was the great change in the kind of
muscular action, from that of hard riding to that of still harder
climbing. It is a lesson worth remembering, as in some cases it might
cause much difficulty.
I have already said the mountain is composed of white quartz rock, and
with it a little glossy clay-slate is associated. At the height of a
few hundred feet above the plain, patches of conglomerate adhered in
several places to the solid rock. They resembled in hardness, and in
the nature of the cement, the masses which may be seen daily forming on
some coasts. I do not doubt these pebbles were in a similar manner
aggregated, at a period when the great calcareous formation was
depositing beneath the surrounding sea. We may believe
that the jagged and battered forms of the hard quartz yet show the
effects of the waves of an open ocean.
I was, on the whole, disappointed with this ascent. Even the view was
insignificant;—a plain like the sea, but without its beautiful colour
and defined outline. The scene, however, was novel, and a little
danger, like salt to meat, gave it a relish. That the danger was very
little was certain, for my two companions made a good fire—a thing
which is never done when it is suspected that Indians are near. I
reached the place of our bivouac by sunset, and drinking much maté, and
smoking several cigaritos, soon made up my bed for the night. The wind
was very strong and cold, but I never slept more comfortably.
_September_ 10_th._—In the morning, having fairly scudded before the
gale, we arrived by the middle of the day at the Sauce posta. On the
road we saw great numbers of deer, and near the mountain a guanaco. The
plain, which abuts against the Sierra, is traversed by some curious
gulleys, of which one was about twenty feet wide, and at least thirty
deep; we were obliged in consequence to make a considerable circuit
before we could find a pass. We stayed the night at the posta, the
conversation, as was generally the case, being about the Indians. The
Sierra Ventana was formerly a great place of resort; and three or four
years ago there was much fighting there. My guide had been present when
many Indians were killed: the women escaped to the top of the ridge,
and fought most desperately with great stones; many thus saving
themselves.
_September_ 11_th._—Proceeded to the third posta in company with the
lieutenant who commanded it. The distance is called fifteen leagues;
but it is only guess-work, and is generally overstated. The road was
uninteresting, over a dry grassy plain; and on our left hand at a
greater or less distance there were some low hills; a continuation of
which we crossed close to the posta. Before our arrival we met a large
herd of cattle and horses, guarded by fifteen soldiers; but we were
told many had been lost. It is very difficult to drive animals across
the plains; for if in the night a puma, or even a fox, approaches,
nothing can prevent the horses dispersing in every direction; and a
storm will have the same effect. A short time since, an officer left
Buenos Ayres with five hundred horses, and when he arrived at the army
he had under twenty.
Soon afterwards we perceived by the cloud of dust, that a party of
horsemen were coming towards us; when far distant my companions knew
them to be Indians, by their long hair streaming behind their backs.
The Indians generally have a fillet round their heads, but never any
covering; and their black hair blowing across their swarthy faces,
heightens to an uncommon degree the wildness of their appearance. They
turned out to be a party of Bernantio’s friendly tribe, going to a
salina for salt. The Indians eat much salt, their children sucking it
like sugar. This habit is very different from that of the Spanish
Gauchos, who, leading the same kind of life, eat scarcely any:
according to Mungo Park,[2] it is people who live on vegetable food who
have an unconquerable desire for salt. The Indians gave us
good-humoured nods as they passed at full gallop, driving before them a
troop of horses, and followed by a train of lanky dogs.
[2] _Travels in Africa_, p. 233.
_September_ 12_th_ and 13_th._—I stayed at this posta two days, waiting
for a troop of soldiers, which General Rosas had the kindness to send
to inform me would shortly travel to Buenos Ayres; and he advised me to
take the opportunity of the escort. In the morning we rode to some
neighbouring hills to view the country, and to examine the geology.
After dinner the soldiers divided themselves into two parties for a
trial of skill with the bolas. Two spears were stuck in the ground
twenty-five yards apart, but they were struck and entangled only once
in four or five times. The balls can be thrown fifty or sixty yards,
but with little certainty. This, however, does not apply to a man on
horseback; for when the speed of the horse is added to the force of the
arm, it is said that they can be whirled with effect to the distance of
eighty yards. As a proof of their force, I may mention, that at the
Falkland Islands, when the Spaniards murdered some of their own
countrymen and all the Englishmen, a young friendly Spaniard was
running away, when a great tall man, by name Luciano,
came at full gallop after him, shouting to him to stop, and saying that
he only wanted to speak to him. Just as the Spaniard was on the point
of reaching the boat, Luciano threw the balls: they struck him on the
legs with such a jerk, as to throw him down and to render him for some
time insensible. The man, after Luciano had had his talk, was allowed
to escape. He told us that his legs were marked by great weals, where
the thong had wound round, as if he had been flogged with a whip. In
the middle of the day two men arrived, who brought a parcel from the
next posta to be forwarded to the general: so that besides these two,
our party consisted this evening of my guide and self, the lieutenant,
and his four soldiers. The latter were strange beings; the first a fine
young negro; the second half Indian and negro; and the two others
nondescripts; namely, an old Chilian miner, the colour of mahogany, and
another partly a mulatto; but two such mongrels, with such detestable
expressions, I never saw before. At night, when they were sitting round
the fire, and playing at cards, I retired to view such a Salvator Rosa
scene. They were seated under a low cliff, so that I could look down
upon them; around the party were lying dogs, arms, remnants of deer and
ostriches; and their long spears were stuck in the turf. Farther in the
dark background their horses were tied up, ready for any sudden danger.
If the stillness of the desolate plain was broken by one of the dogs
barking, a soldier, leaving the fire, would place his head close to the
ground, and thus slowly scan the horizon. Even if the noisy teru-tero
uttered its scream, there would be a pause in the conversation, and
every head, for a moment, a little inclined.
What a life of misery these men appear to us to lead! They were at
least ten leagues from the Sauce posta, and since the murder committed
by the Indians, twenty from another. The Indians are supposed to have
made their attack in the middle of the night; for very early in the
morning after the murder, they were luckily seen approaching this
posta. The whole party here, however, escaped, together with the troop
of horses; each one taking a line for himself, and driving with him as
many animals as he was able to manage.
The little hovel, built of thistle-stalks, in which they slept,
neither kept out the wind nor rain; indeed in the latter case the only
effect the roof had, was to condense it into larger drops. They had
nothing to eat excepting what they could catch, such as ostriches,
deer, armadilloes, etc., and their only fuel was the dry stalks of a
small plant, somewhat resembling an aloe. The sole luxury which these
men enjoyed was smoking the little paper cigars, and sucking maté. I
used to think that the carrion vultures, man’s constant attendants on
these dreary plains, while seated on the little neighbouring cliffs,
seemed by their very patience to say, “Ah! when the Indians come we
shall have a feast.”
[Illustration]
In the morning we all sallied forth to hunt, and although we had not
much success, there were some animated chases. Soon after starting the
party separated, and so arranged their plans, that at a certain time of
the day (in guessing which they show much skill) they should all meet
from different points of the compass on a plain piece of ground, and
thus drive together the wild animals. One day I went out hunting at
Bahia Blanca, but the men there merely rode in a crescent, each being
about
a quarter of a mile apart from the other. A fine male ostrich being
turned by the headmost riders, tried to escape on one side. The Gauchos
pursued at a reckless pace, twisting their horses about with the most
admirable command, and each man whirling the balls round his head. At
length the foremost threw them, revolving through the air: in an
instant the ostrich rolled over and over, its legs fairly lashed
together by the thong.
The plains abound with three kinds of partridge,[3] two of which are as
large as hen pheasants. Their destroyer, a small and pretty fox, was
also singularly numerous; in the course of the day we could not have
seen less than forty or fifty. They were generally near their earths,
but the dogs killed one. When we returned to the posta, we found two of
the party returned who had been hunting by themselves. They had killed
a puma, and had found an ostrich’s nest with twenty-seven eggs in it.
Each of these is said to equal in weight eleven hens’ eggs; so that we
obtained from this one nest as much food as 297 hens’ eggs would have
given.
[3] Two species of Tinamus and _Eudromia elegans_ of A. d’Orbigny,
which can only be called a partridge with regard to its habits.
_September_ 14_th._—As the soldiers belonging to the next posta meant to
return, and we should together make a party of five, and all armed, I
determined not to wait for the expected troops. My host, the
lieutenant, pressed me much to stop. As he had been very obliging—not
only providing me with food, but lending me his private horses—I wanted
to make him some remuneration. I asked my guide whether I might do so,
but he told me certainly not; that the only answer I should receive
probably would be, “We have meat for the dogs in our country, and
therefore do not grudge it to a Christian.” It must not be supposed
that the rank of lieutenant in such an army would at all prevent the
acceptance of payment: it was only the high sense of hospitality, which
every traveller is bound to acknowledge as nearly universal throughout
these provinces. After galloping some leagues, we came to a low swampy
country, which extends for nearly eighty miles northward, as far as the
Sierra Tapalguen. In some parts there were fine damp plains, covered
with grass, while others had a soft, black, and peaty soil. There
were also many extensive but shallow lakes, and large beds of reeds.
The country on the whole resembled the better parts of the
Cambridgeshire fens. At night we had some difficulty in finding, amidst
the swamps, a dry place for our bivouac.
_September_ 15_th._—Rose very early in the morning, and shortly after
passed the posta where the Indians had murdered the five soldiers. The
officer had eighteen chuzo wounds in his body. By the middle of the
day, after a hard gallop, we reached the fifth posta: on account of
some difficulty in procuring horses we stayed there the night. As this
point was the most exposed on the whole line, twenty-one soldiers were
stationed here; at sunset they returned from hunting, bringing with
them seven deer, three ostriches, and many armadilloes and partridges.
When riding through the country, it is a common practice to set fire to
the plain; and hence at night, as on this occasion, the horizon was
illuminated in several places by brilliant conflagrations. This is done
partly for the sake of puzzling any stray Indians, but chiefly for
improving the pasture. In grassy plains unoccupied by the larger
ruminating quadrupeds, it seems necessary to remove the superfluous
vegetation by fire, so as to render the new year’s growth serviceable.
The rancho at this place did not boast even of a roof, but merely
consisted of a ring of thistle-stalks, to break the force of the wind.
It was situated on the borders of an extensive but shallow lake,
swarming with wild fowl, among which the black-necked swan was
conspicuous.
The kind of plover which appears as if mounted on stilts (Himantopus
nigricollis), is here common in flocks of considerable size. It has
been wrongfully accused of inelegance; when wading about in shallow
water, which is its favourite resort, its gait is far from awkward.
These birds in a flock utter a noise, that singularly resembles the cry
of a pack of small dogs in full chase: waking in the night, I have more
than once been for a moment startled at the distant sound. The
teru-tero (Vanellus cayanus) is another bird which often disturbs the
stillness of the night. In appearance and habits it resembles in many
respects our peewits; its wings, however, are armed with sharp spurs,
like those on the legs of the common cock. As our peewit takes its name
from the sound of its voice,
so does the teru-tero. While riding over the grassy plains, one is
constantly pursued by these birds, which appear to hate mankind, and I
am sure deserve to be hated for their never-ceasing, unvaried, harsh
screams. To the sportsman they are most annoying, by telling every
other bird and animal of his approach: to the traveller in the country
they may possibly, as Molina says, do good, by warning him of the
midnight robber. During the breeding season, they attempt, like our
peewits, by feigning to be wounded, to draw away from their nests dogs
and other enemies. The eggs of this bird are esteemed a great delicacy.
_September_ 16_th._—To the seventh posta at the foot of the Sierra
Tapalguen. The country was quite level, with a coarse herbage and a
soft peaty soil. The hovel was here remarkably neat, the posts and
rafters being made of about a dozen dry thistle-stalks bound together
with thongs of hide; and by the support of these Ionic-like columns,
the roof and sides were thatched with reeds. We were here told a fact,
which I would not have credited, if I had not had partly ocular proof
of it; namely, that, during the previous night, hail as large as small
apples, and extremely hard, had fallen with such violence as to kill
the greater number of the wild animals. One of the men had already
found thirteen deer (Cervus campestris) lying dead, and I saw their
_fresh_ hides; another of the party, a few minutes after my arrival,
brought in seven more. Now I well know, that one man without dogs could
hardly have killed seven deer in a week. The men believed they had seen
about fifteen dead ostriches (part of one of which we had for dinner);
and they said that several were running about evidently blind in one
eye. Numbers of smaller birds, as ducks, hawks, and partridges, were
killed. I saw one of the latter with a black mark on its back, as if it
had been struck with a paving-stone. A fence of thistle-stalks round
the hovel was nearly broken down, and my informer, putting his head out
to see what was the matter, received a severe cut, and now wore a
bandage. The storm was said to have been of limited extent: we
certainly saw from our last night’s bivouac a dense cloud and lightning
in this direction. It is marvellous how such strong animals as deer
could thus have been killed; but I have no doubt, from the evidence I
have
given, that the story is not in the least exaggerated. I am glad,
however, to have its credibility supported by the Jesuit
Dobrizhoffer,[4] who, speaking of a country much to the northward,
says, hail fell of an enormous size and killed vast numbers of cattle:
the Indians hence called the place _Lalegraicavalca_, meaning “the
little white things.” Dr. Malcolmson, also, informs me that he
witnessed in 1831 in India a hail-storm, which killed numbers of large
birds and much injured the cattle. These hail-stones were flat, and one
was ten inches in circumference, and another weighed two ounces. They
ploughed up a gravel-walk like musket-balls, and passed through
glass-windows, making round holes, but not cracking them.
[4] _History of the Abipones_, vol. ii, p. 6.
Having finished our dinner of hail-stricken meat, we crossed the Sierra
Tapalguen; a low range of hills, a few hundred feet in height, which
commences at Cape Corrientes. The rock in this part is pure quartz;
farther eastward I understand it is granitic. The hills are of a
remarkable form; they consist of flat patches of table-land, surrounded
by low perpendicular cliffs, like the outliers of a sedimentary
deposit. The hill which I ascended was very small, not above a couple
of hundred yards in diameter; but I saw others larger. One which goes
by the name of the “Corral,” is said to be two or three miles in
diameter, and encompassed by perpendicular cliffs between thirty and
forty feet high, excepting at one spot, where the entrance lies.
Falconer[5] gives a curious account of the Indians driving troops of
wild horses into it, and then by guarding the entrance keeping them
secure. I have never heard of any other instance of table-land in a
formation of quartz, and which, in the hill I examined, had neither
cleavage nor stratification. I was told that the rock of the “Corral”
was white, and would strike fire.
[5] Falconer’s _Patagonia_, p. 70.
We did not reach the posta on the Rio Tapalguen till after it was dark.
At supper, from something which was said, I was suddenly struck with
horror at thinking that I was eating one of the favourite dishes of the
country, namely, a half formed calf, long before its proper time of
birth. It turned out to be Puma; the meat is very white, and remarkably
like veal in taste. Dr. Shaw was laughed at for stating that “the flesh
of the lion is
in great esteem, having no small affinity with veal, both in colour,
taste, and flavour.” Such certainly is the case with the Puma. The
Gauchos differ in their opinion whether the Jaguar is good eating, but
are unanimous in saying that cat is excellent.
_September_ 17_th._—We followed the course of the Rio Tapalguen,
through a very fertile country, to the ninth posta. Tapalguen itself,
or the town of Tapalguen, if it may be so called, consists of a
perfectly level plain, studded over, as far as the eye can reach, with
the toldos, or oven-shaped huts of the Indians. The families of the
friendly Indians, who were fighting on the side of Rosas, resided here.
We met and passed many young Indian women, riding by two or three
together on the same horse: they, as well as many of the young men,
were strikingly handsome,—their fine ruddy complexions being the
picture of health. Besides the toldos, there were three ranchos; one
inhabited by the Commandant, and the two others by Spaniards with small
shops.
We were here able to buy some biscuit. I had now been several days
without tasting anything besides meat: I did not at all dislike this
new regimen; but I felt as if it would only have agreed with me with
hard exercise. I have heard that patients in England, when desired to
confine themselves exclusively to an animal diet, even with the hope of
life before their eyes, have hardly been able to endure it. Yet the
Gaucho in the Pampas, for months together, touches nothing but beef.
But they eat, I observe, a very large proportion of fat, which is of a
less animalised nature; and they particularly dislike dry meat, such as
that of the Agouti. Dr. Richardson,[6] also, has remarked, “that when
people have fed for a long time solely upon lean animal food, the
desire for fat becomes so insatiable, that they can consume a large
quantity of unmixed and even oily fat without nausea:” this appears to
me a curious physiological fact. It is, perhaps, from their meat
regimen that the Gauchos, like other carnivorous animals, can abstain
long from food. I was told that at Tandeel some troops voluntarily
pursued a party of Indians for three days, without eating or drinking.
[6] _Fauna Boreali-Americana_, vol. i, p. 35.
We saw in the shops many articles, such as horsecloths, belts, and
garters, woven by the Indian women. The patterns were very pretty, and
the colours brilliant; the workmanship of the garters was so good that
an English merchant at Buenos Ayres maintained they must have been
manufactured in England, till he found the tassels had been fastened by
split sinew.
_September_ 18_th._—We had a very long ride this day. At the twelfth
posta, which is seven leagues south of the Rio Salado, we came to the
first estancia with cattle and white women. Afterwards we had to ride
for many miles through a country flooded with water above our horses’
knees. By crossing the stirrups, and riding Arab-like with our legs
bent up, we contrived to keep tolerably dry. It was nearly dark when we
arrived at the Salado; the stream was deep, and about forty yards wide;
in summer, however, its bed becomes almost dry, and the little
remaining water nearly as salt as that of the sea. We slept at one of
the great estancias of General Rosas. It was fortified, and of such an
extent, that arriving in the dark I thought it was a town and fortress.
In the morning we saw immense herds of cattle, the general here having
seventy-four square leagues of land. Formerly nearly three hundred men
were employed about this estate, and they defied all the attacks of the
Indians.
_September_ 19_th._—Passed the Guardia del Monte. This is a nice
scattered little town, with many gardens, full of peach and quince
trees. The plain here looked like that around Buenos Ayres; the turf
being short and bright green, with beds of clover and thistles, and
with bizcacha holes. I was very much struck with the marked change in
the aspect of the country after having crossed the Salado. From a
coarse herbage we passed on to a carpet of fine green verdure. I at
first attributed this to some change in the nature of the soil, but the
inhabitants assured me that here, as well as in Banda Oriental, where
there is as great a difference between the country around Monte Video
and the thinly-inhabited savannahs of Colonia, the whole was to be
attributed to the manuring and grazing of the cattle. Exactly the same
fact has been observed in the prairies[7] of
North America, where coarse grass, between five and six feet high, when
grazed by cattle, changes into common pasture land. I am not botanist
enough to say whether the change here is owing to the introduction of
new species, to the altered growth of the same, or to a difference in
their proportional numbers. Azara has also observed with astonishment
this change: he is likewise much perplexed by the immediate appearance
of plants not occurring in the neighbourhood, on the borders of any
track that leads to a newly-constructed hovel. In another part he
says,[8] “Ces chevaux (sauvages) ont la manie de préférer les chemins,
et le bord des routes pour déposer leurs excrémens, dont on trouve des
monceaux dans ces endroits.” Does this not partly explain the
circumstance? We thus have lines of richly manured land serving as
channels of communication across wide districts.
[7] See Mr. Atwater’s “Account of the Prairies,” in _Silliman’s North
American Journal_, vol. i, p. 117.
[8] Azara’s _Voyage_, vol. i, p. 373.
[Illustration]
Near the Guardia we find the southern limit of two European plants, now
become extraordinarily common. The fennel in great profusion covers the
ditch-banks in the neighbourhood of Buenos Ayres, Monte Video, and
other towns. But the cardoon (Cynara cardunculus)[9] has a far wider
range: it occurs in these latitudes on both sides of the Cordillera,
across the continent. I saw it in unfrequented spots in Chile, Entre
Rios, and Banda Oriental. In the latter country alone, very many
(probably several hundred) square miles are covered by one mass of
these prickly plants, and are impenetrable by man or beast. Over the
undulating plains, where these great beds occur, nothing else can now
live. Before their introduction, however, the surface must have
supported, as in other parts, a rank herbage. I doubt whether any case
is on record of an invasion on so grand a scale of one plant over the
aborigines. As I have already said, I nowhere saw the cardoon south of
the Salado; but it is
probable that in proportion as that country becomes inhabited, the
cardoon will extend its limits. The case is different with the giant
thistle (with variegated leaves) of the Pampas, for I met with it in
the valley of the Sauce. According to the principles so well laid down
by Mr. Lyell, few countries have undergone more remarkable changes,
since the year 1535, when the first colonist of La Plata landed with
seventy-two horses. The countless herds of horses, cattle, and sheep,
not only have altered the whole aspect of the vegetation, but they have
almost banished the guanaco, deer, and ostrich. Numberless other
changes must likewise have taken place; the wild pig in some parts
probably replaces the peccari; packs of wild dogs may be heard howling
on the wooded banks of the less-frequented streams; and the common cat,
altered into a large and fierce animal, inhabits rocky hills. As M.
d’Orbigny has remarked, the increase in numbers of the carrion-vulture,
since the introduction of the domestic animals, must have been
infinitely great; and we have given reasons for believing that they
have extended their southern range. No doubt many plants, besides the
cardoon and fennel, are naturalised; thus the islands near the mouth of
the Parana are thickly clothed with peach and orange trees, springing
from seeds carried there by the waters of the river.
[9] M. A. d’Orbigny (vol. i, p. 474) says that the cardoon and
artichoke are both found wild. Dr. Hooker (_Botanical Magazine_, vol.
lv. p. 2862) has described a variety of the Cynara from this part of
South America under the name of inermis. He states that botanists are
now generally agreed that the cardoon and the artichoke are varieties
of one plant. I may add, that an intelligent farmer assured me that he
had observed in a deserted garden some artichokes changing into the
common cardoon. Dr. Hooker believes that Head’s vivid description of
the thistle of the Pampas applies to the cardoon, but this is a
mistake. Captain Head referred to the plant which I have mentioned a
few lines lower down under the title of giant thistle. Whether it is a
true thistle, I do not know; but it is quite different from the
cardoon; and more like a thistle properly so called.
While changing horses at the Guardia several people questioned us much
about the army,—I never saw anything like the enthusiasm for Rosas, and
for the success of the “most just of all wars, because against
barbarians.” This expression, it must be confessed, is very natural,
for till lately, neither man, woman, nor horse was safe from the
attacks of the Indians. We had a long day’s ride over the same rich
green plain, abounding with various flocks, and with here and there a
solitary estancia, and its one _ombu_ tree. In the evening it rained
heavily: on arriving at a post-house we were told by the owner that if
we had not a regular passport we must pass on, for there were so many
robbers he would trust no one. When he read, however, my passport,
which began with “El Naturalista Don Carlos,” his respect and civility
were as unbounded as his suspicions had been before. What a naturalist
might be, neither he nor his countrymen, I suspect, had any idea; but
probably my title lost nothing of its value from that cause.
_September_ 20_th._—We arrived by the middle of the day at Buenos
Ayres. The outskirts of the city looked quite pretty, with the agave
hedges, and groves of olive, peach and willow trees, all just throwing
out their fresh green leaves. I rode to the house of Mr. Lumb, an
English merchant, to whose kindness and hospitality, during my stay in
the country, I was greatly indebted.
The city of Buenos Ayres is large;[10] and I should think one of the
most regular in the world. Every street is at right angles to the one
it crosses, and the parallel ones being equidistant, the houses are
collected into solid squares of equal dimensions, which are called
quadras. On the other hand, the houses themselves are hollow squares;
all the rooms opening into a neat little courtyard. They are generally
only one story high, with flat roofs, which are fitted with seats, and
are much frequented by the inhabitants in summer. In the centre of the
town is the Plaza, where the public offices, fortress, cathedral, etc.,
stand. Here also, the old viceroys, before the revolution, had their
palaces. The general assemblage of buildings possesses considerable
architectural beauty, although none individually can boast of any.
[10] It is said to contain 60,000 inhabitants. Monte Video, the second
town of importance on the banks of the Plata, has 15,000.
The great _corral_, where the animals are kept for slaughter to supply
food to this beef-eating population, is one of the spectacles best
worth seeing. The strength of the horse as compared to that of the
bullock is quite astonishing: a man on horseback having thrown his lazo
round the horns of a beast, can drag it anywhere he chooses. The animal
ploughing up the ground with outstretched legs, in vain efforts to
resist the force, generally dashes at full speed to one side; but the
horse, immediately turning to receive the shock, stands so firmly that
the bullock is almost thrown down, and it is surprising that their
necks are not broken. The struggle is not, however, one of fair
strength; the horse’s girth being matched against the bullock’s
extended neck. In a similar manner a man can hold the wildest horse, if
caught with the lazo, just behind the ears. When the bullock has been
dragged to the spot where it is to be slaughtered, the _matador_ with
great caution cuts the hamstrings. Then is given the death
bellow; a noise more expressive of fierce agony than any I know. I have
often distinguished it from a long distance, and have always known that
the struggle was then drawing to a close. The whole sight is horrible
and revolting: the ground is almost made of bones; and the horses and
riders are drenched with gore.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]