They were without exception quite untrained as far as the English idea

goes, and the first thing to do with them was usually to teach them the

primitive ideas of cleanliness. The first servant I had was an ancient

female named Andrea, about forty years old, and it proved quite

impossible to get her to see the necessity of keeping anything in the

kitchen clean, as she seemed imbued with the idea that it was great

waste of time washing saucepans and frying-pans, as they would only get

dirty again when next used, and the most she could be persuaded to do

was to rub them round inside with a bit of old newspaper or a handful of

grass. Needless to say, after a time I got tired of these methods, and

so we parted.

My next servant, Angelina, was one of the best I had, as she was clean,

which was a great consideration, and also she was quick to learn and

soon picked up the rudiments of cooking according to our ideas; her

great failing, however, was that she was anything but honest, and could

not refrain from petty pilfering; and another drawback to her was her

objection to wearing shoes or stockings in the hot weather; in spite of

being constantly told that she must not appear without them, she would

insist in doing so, and this was a continual cause of trouble.

After getting rid of No. 2 our real troubles began, and we had eight

changes in ten months. At the time we were living in wooden huts about

two miles from a village which was a summer resort for rich people from

Buenos Aires, and this caused a dearth of servants during the summer

months, as the place was full from the beginning of December to the end

of March, and people who came up for the summer and rented houses

usually were willing to pay anything to get servants, with the result

that we outside would get none, or only the cast-off ones. Nos. 3 and 4

stayed but a short time. My fifth attempt was a terrible girl, too dirty

for words; and though apparently willing to learn, too utterly lacking

in intelligence to ever learn anything. She used to get herself into the

most awful grimy condition, and one incident during her time with me is

worth mentioning. I had with great difficulty one day got her to

understand that a wood floor could not be properly cleaned with a grass

broom dipped in cold water and just swished about over it, and, by going

down on my knees with a scrubbing brush and hot water and soap, and

giving a practical demonstration of how a floor should be washed, had

started her away to clean it, and judged that I might safely leave her,

to attend to the other household duties in the kitchen. I must tell you

that the day previously I had given her a practical lesson in

black-leading a stove by doing it myself while she looked on. Well,

after an hour in the kitchen I returned to see how she was getting on,

when I found to my great pleasure that not content with scrubbing the

floor, she had also attacked the stove with hot water, soap, and

scrubbing brush, with the result that my hard work of the previous day

was all undone and the whole room well sprinkled with black specks and

the stove a mass of rust. Two weeks of similar experiences finished our

acquaintance, and she gave place to No. 6. After I had spent three weeks

teaching No. 6 cooking, she quietly informed me that she was leaving at

the end of the week to take up a place as cook in Rosario, as she now

knew enough cooking for the position; so I had not only wasted all my

time in teaching her, but had paid her into the bargain for learning

enough to leave me.

The next servant, No. 7, Alexandrina, was, I think, the worst. She was a

Spaniard from Barcelona. She was an awful individual, and would insist

on wearing clothes of so light and scanty a nature that she was not

decent to have about the house; also, whenever we happened to have a

joke of any sort to laugh over at meals, she used immediately to come in

from the kitchen to see what was going on, and I had the greatest

difficulty to get her to return to the kitchen. I had to get rid of her,

because her moral reputation was anything but good, and two days in the

week she refused to get out of bed, and told me to do my own dirty work,

as she was ill; so at the end of two weeks she had to go. No. 8, Maria,

was a girl direct from the sierras, and was very stupid and silly, and

did not a single thing. One day I was buying vegetables, and she asked

me why I wanted to buy roots, and when I told her they were to eat, she

said even poor people could afford to buy meat, and she would not eat

them. One day I took this girl out with me to do some shopping, and

called on some people who had a piano. It was twilight, and someone was

playing the piano, and she rushed in the room and out again, with her

face very white, and said someone was beating a big, black animal in the

corner of the room, and it was screaming dreadfully with the pain. This

girl's mother was a very talkative old lady, and would insist on coming

with three children every day and taking up her position in the kitchen,

and when once she commenced to talk, one could not get away from her. At

the end of the month she came for the girl's pay, and wanted me to pay

her more money, which I was not willing to do, as I had been unable to

teach her much; so she asked if her daughter might go away for the day

and night, as she had to bath. This I was only too willing to agree to,

and let her go; but they returned in the middle of the night, and

removed all her belongings. After a few days I managed to get No. 9, who

was a widow with two children: but she only stayed two weeks. Our tenth

and last attempt was made with No. 4 once more, as she was again able to

come to us. She stayed two months, when we went away for four weeks'

holiday. A week after our return I paid her in full for the month,

though she had never been near the house all that time, and she promptly

said she could not stay with us any longer, and left. We nearly got to

No. 11, as we engaged a girl to come at $20 a month to start with, and

she was to come the next morning at eight o'clock to begin work. She

arrived at 10 a.m., and informed me that, as we had paid our last

servant $25 the month, she could not come for less. I was so sick and

tired of my experiences that this finished me, and I decided to do

without any servant. Since then, for the last year, I have done the work

myself.

POLICE OF A BYGONE DAY.

POLICE OF A BYGONE DAY.

Yes, times have changed since I went to San Cristobal just twenty years

ago. For then the English were pioneers, so to speak; not in a country

of savagery, but of semi-savagery, a very different and much worse

matter. I wonder is A.J., the Chief of Police, still to the fore? Ye

gods, how that man tried to break my heart, and how nearly he succeeded!

I was a Mayor-domo then, and G. was my boss, standing in the place of

the owners to me. The boss had a mortal dread of the police and their

powers, seen and unseen. So that when the worthy Chief of Police

suddenly decided to add the trade of butchering to his many lucrative

businesses, I received orders to sell him cows at twenty-five per cent.

less price than I sold to any of his competitors. Thus, whereas I was

selling them at twenty dollars paper, then worth about one pound per

head, I had to sell him at fifteen shillings, with the inevitable result

that he almost immediately became master of the situation and the entire

local market became his, enabling him to charge what he liked for meat,

while I was forbidden to raise the price of the cows sold him.

Insatiable in his greed, he began to ask for cattle twice a week, always

taking from ten to twenty animals, until one day, after exceptionally

wet weather, I protested that it was not possible to round up the stock

in the then state of the camp and destroy so much grass for a small

bunch of cows. Unlucky thought and ill-judged protest! For when he urged

that the inhabitants of the town were starving, and that a small point

of half-breed heifers would do to go on with, I received orders to let

him part out from our best herd. Twenty fine half-bred Herefords did he

pick while I almost shed tears of blood, though all the time, of course,

I had to show a smiling face.

This sort of thing had been going on for some time, when one of the

boundary riders told me that the fence between the town and one of our

nearest paddocks had been cut during the night.

"Then mend it up," said I.

"Sir, it is mended already."

Not a week had passed before the same man brought me the same report. So

I determined to "parar rodeo" (round up the cattle) immediately, and

count them. Twenty heifers short in one square league, and in less than

a month! This thing had to stop. I told the Capataz to take the boundary

rider off that beat, without telling him why, and then the Capataz and I

patrolled the fence night after night for a week, during which it was

never cut.

We put a new boundary rider on, and three mornings later he came to see

me bright and early, saying that not only had the fence been cut, but

that there were distinct traces of cattle having passed out recently.

After assuring myself that there was no doubt about the matter, for I

found the hoof marks of what I calculated to be not less than twenty

animals, I went post haste to my friend the Chief of Police, never

doubting that after all the favours shown him he would prove a friend in

need. I was young then.

"You don't say so, Don Ernesto!" said his podgy, putty-faced little

Highness. "Where was it? When was------ By heavens, somebody shall

suffer for this! Just let me or any of my soldiers catch the thieves,

and not one of them shall reach Santa Fé alive. Now, I'll tell you what.

Just leave it to me, and don't you worry nor think any more about the

matter, much less mention it to a soul. In less than two days I'll have

the thief or thieves here in the stocks."

I told him plainly that that was not my programme, and that, whatever he

did, I was not going to leave that fence unpatrolled until I could move

the stock out of the paddock.

"Then this is what we'll do, Don Ernesto. You shall be one of us. You

come and dine with me at six o'clock this evening, and afterwards we'll

go out with the sergeant and five or six men and catch 'em."

It was about the equinox, if I remember rightly--the springtime, when

everything is lovely and lovable: the camp flowers all in bloom, the

aroma of the trees burdening the air with delicious perfume, the fresh

verdure and plenty of grass, the powerful, stout-hearted bounding of the

horse (no longer "poor") beneath one, and, above all, the great issue

expected of the business in hand, the most important business to me in

the world at the time--all these combined spelled but one word, "Hope!"

Carbine in hand, Colt in holster, I arrived at his residence. There he

was, sitting at the door of his corner house, whence he could look down

three streets at once. How like a spider, I thought.

His welcome was cordial, but he seemed to smile at my eagerness, and

told me that he never dined before eight.

"But let us sit here in the cool of the evening," said he, handing out a

chair for me to sit by him on the footpath, "and let us take some

refreshment to while away the time. But, tell me, where did you say that

the fence was cut? But did you really see signs that cattle had passed?

Preposterous! The sons of guns shall suffer for this. Eh well, I'm glad

of it in a way--glad to have a little work, and perhaps a little

excitement. It doesn't do to have a too orderly district, for the

Governor and his satellites in Santa Fé imagine I'm lazy and not looking

after my business if they hear of no commotions. That black fellow you

sent me the other day, Don Ernesto--the fellow that was molesting a mad

woman in the camp--- I've got him seventeen years in the line for that.

I wish you would send me a few more, for hardly a letter comes from

Santa Fé in which I am not asked to send in recruits, so hard up are

they for Provincial soldiers."

Just then a poor Italian colonist came up, hat in hand. He, too, and all

his class were pioneers in those days, and God knows what they suffered.

"Well, what d'ye want?" asked my companion.

"Sir," said the wretched man, stuttering in his nervousness, "one of my

bullocks has been stolen, and I know the thief. I have been to the

Justice of the Peace, and he told me to bring the thief to him; but,

sir, the th-thief refuses to come."

"_Bueno_! Ten dollars, and ten dollars _down_," roared the majesty of

law.

"But, sir,----"

"No! But me no buts! Ten dollars at once, or I'll call the sergeant to

lock you up until you can get it."

I could see that the poor fellow's heart was breaking as he drew the

money from his pocket and handed it over. Smilingly the bully turned to

me and said, as his victim walked slowly away, "I'll bet you that that

man doesn't come around to molest me again. I'll guarantee to you, Don

Ernesto, that there isn't a district in the whole province where so few

appeals for justice are made."

At last it was dinner-time, and, being ushered into a dirty room with a

brick floor, dim light and grimy tablecloth, I seated myself at the

table with my host, his secretary, the doctor, and a clerk. The dinner

was in the usual native style of those days: ribs of beef roasted on

the gridiron, beef and pumpkin boiled together, to finish up with

"caldo," which is simply the water in which the beef and vegetables have

been boiled, with a good thick coating of grease.

No sooner had we begun dinner than it was noticed that we had no wine.

"No wine! How's this? What d'ye mean?" as he angrily turned to the

sergeant who was waiting.

"If you please, sir, So-and-so and So-and-so," mentioning the name of a

local firm of storekeepers, "say that they can supply no more wine until

they can get some of their accounts settled."

"How dare you bring me such a message as that! Take the corporal with a

couple of men and bring a half-barrel at once--in less than three

minutes, or I'll know the reason why."

The barrel was brought, and, with a bit and brace, quickly tapped, and

the wine set flowing round the table.

The dinner dragged on and on, until I thought he meant us to sit there

all night. Ten o'clock came, half-past, and then eleven. Then I began to

smell a rat. I kept on urging the necessity for action, but it became

more and more evident that the Chief was fooling. He pressed wine upon

all and upon me in particular, while he drank little himself, although

he pretended otherwise. At last, I could stand it no longer, and got up

in no very good humour to go.

"No, but stop, Don Ernesto! Where are you going? Sit down again. The

horses are not saddled yet: not even caught up. Sit down and have

patience and we'll all go with you in good time."

It was after twelve when at last we made a start. There were the Chief,

the sergeant, a corporal, four men, and myself. We rode slowly in a

northerly direction until we came to a small gate in the fence, of which

I had the key. All the way thither the Chief, while commending me for my

forethought in bringing arms, had been impressing upon me the importance

of not using them, no matter what happened, "Because, you see, you are

not an arm of the law, and if you were to shoot anyone, I should be

obliged to arrest you and send you to Santa Fé."

When we got through the fence, what was my surprise when the Chief said,

"Bueno, Don Ernesto, you and I have had a long day. What I propose is

that you and I off-saddle and doss down here, while the sergeant and men

patrol with muffled bits and spurs at a short distance from the fence.

Then the moment they hear anything they can come and let us know!"

In vain I protested that this was not my idea at all, and that I too

wanted to do the patrolling, but when he told a man to take the saddle

off my horse and shake down a bed for me, I thought it wiser to

acquiesce, or, at least, appear to do so. I shall never forget that

night. How we talked and talked and talked as we lay beneath the

brilliant stars, I, boiling with rage and anxiety under my assumed

tranquillity, while he, doubtless, was as much annoyed at having to keep

me in conversation. It must have been nearly four o'clock when I told

him that I really must sleep. "Bueno," said he, as he rolled over on his

side, "hasta mañana."

In five minutes he was snoring. Even so, I did not dare to move, for

fear that he might be foxing. About an hour passed, during which he

moved, coughed, expectorated, and had other signs of conscious

animation, much to my disgust, until at last I thought the snoring

sounded too genuine to be shammed, so I crept towards him and whispered

in his ear that I thought I heard sounds of movement. But his snoring

was rhythmic and swinish, so I gathered up my saddle and gear and stole

over to my horse, which was picketed some yards off, and proceeded to

saddle him up. In doing so, my stirrups somehow clashed and thought it

was all up, for what a fool I should look if he woke and discovered me.

But it was all right: the music continued.

I led the horse for some little distance, then mounting, I rode him down

alongside the fence for about a mile until I came to a fresh gap in it.

Horror! Even though it was but what my suspicions had depicted, the

realisation came as a shock to me. "The--! The--!" To repeat my

expressions would edify no one.

Guided by the signal-lights at the station, I moved along at a smart

trot and soon recognised the quick tramping of animals ahead. Then I

drew back, and as the day was just breaking, I drew round to the west

side of the cavalcade, so that I might see without being seen. Yes, sure

enough, there were six military chacots outlined against the great sky

and a troop of animals ahead of them.

I halted to let them get well away from me, and then, with rage and

hatred in my heart, swearing vengeance all the while, I galloped as hard

as ever I could to the estancia, to impatiently await the uprising of my

boss.

"We must wire, or one of us must go to the Governor in Santa Fé at

once," I urged. But what was my disgust to be met with but a quiet smile

of amusement!

"Not if I know it," said he. "Why, good God, man, do you want to have

all our throats cut? This man is a personal friend of the Governor's,

and what satisfaction do you think we are likely to get out of that?"

"Then let us go to the Consul, the British Minister, or even to the

President of the Republic?"

A quiet smile with a negatory shake of the head was the only answer.

A fortnight later I sought him in his private sitting-room and found the

Chief of Police sitting in an easy-chair.

"Ha! ha! ha! Don Ernesto. So you caught us, did you? Well, it was worth

the fun. I never laughed so much in all my life as when I awoke that

morning and found that you had given me the slip!"

A VISIT TO THE NORTHERN CHACO.

After three years on an estancia in the vast monotonous, treeless, but

most fertile plains of the Central Argentine, under scorching sun,

driving rains, and biting wind, one feels that one would like to see a

river sometimes, animal life and more congenial surroundings; and so I

determined to visit the Northern Chaco, that enormous tract of land

which lies North of Santa Fé and stretches right away for many hundreds

of miles to North, East, and West.

Leaving Rosario by the night express, one crosses the great, slightly

undulating plains, probably among the richest in the world for the

growth of wheat, linseed, and maize, reaching Santa Fé early the

following morning. This town, the capital and Government centre of the

province, is rather an uninteresting place; chiefly noticeable in it are

the great number of fine churches and the magnificent sawmills owned by

a large French company. Santa Fé is supposed to be one of the most

religious centres in the Republic. More than once it has almost been

washed away in an eddy of the giant Parana in flood, the water rising

four feet in the houses on the highest level in the town.

After spending a day of sight-seeing in Santa Fé, we embarked at

nightfall for Vera, the headquarters of the Santa Fé Land Company's wood

department, arriving there in the early morning. The land around here

from the train appears to be a dry, salty country, devoid of herbage,

and only valuable on account of the excellent forest trees and timber.

Our morning meal was taken in the station waiting-room (the only

restaurant in the town), and consisted of cold coffee and what the

Argentine understands by boiled eggs, which have in reality been in

boiling water half a minute, and which, in order to eat, one has to tip

into a wine-glass and beat up with a fork, adding pepper and salt, etc.

This is the general way of eating eggs in South America; an egg cup is

one of the few things one cannot get in the country without going to an

English store in Buenos Aires.

Leaving Vera at 8 a.m. the train goes at a snail's pace along the branch

line to Reconquista, covering the distance of about thirty leagues in

five hours. Arriving there in the sweltering midday heat, we were met by

an English friend and his capataz, the latter dressed in his enormous

slouch hat, deerskin apron, and silver spurs weighing probably a full

kilo.

One cannot help noticing at once the different type of natives; from the

slow, slouching, don't-care kind of men, which one sees in Cordoba and

Southern Santa Fé, to the quick, straight, hawk-eyed half-Indian

Chaquenos.

Reconquista on a hot summer's day is one of the dirtiest places on this

earth, which is saying a good deal. One drives through streets two feet

deep in light sandy dust, which hangs in clouds all over the town. There

is an excellent hotel in the centre of the town, built on typical

Spanish plans with fine large open patios, which are filled with

splendid tropical plants and ferns. Having washed off the dust of three

days' travel from our weary persons, and having changed into more

suitable travelling gear, we sat down to an excellent spread.

In the cool of the evening we made a tour of the town, being most

interested in the cigar factories, where we bought excellent smokes for

$2 a hundred, all hand-made from pure tobacco leaf by the brown-hued

lasses of Reconquista.

The rest of the evening we spent in unpacking our native saddles, and

preparing everything for our long horseback journey--not having

forgotten to see that our tropilla of fifteen grey ponies were fit and

ready to make an early start next morning.

Three a.m. next morning found us out in the "corrales" having our ponies

allotted to us by the capataz--we found the tropilla on "ronda"--that

is, in a corner with a lasso tied across in front of them, the height of

their chests, and all facing outwards. This is the most general way of

teaching horses to stand in the Chaco, as, if taught to stand singly,

they would fall too easy a prey to the Indians and gauchos. In order to

saddle these ponies we had to "manear" them, that is, tie their forelegs

together, for without this they refused to let us put the blankets on

their backs.

All being ready, we started off, four of us, two in front and two

behind, with eleven loose ponies between us. By this time the sky was

beginning to grow light, and evidently the fresh morning air had

disagreed with my friend T.'s horse, which suddenly cleared down a side

street with his head between his forelegs and his back arched like the

bend in an archer's bow.

After some seconds of this amusing sight T. managed to get the pony's

head up and came along again, looking very warm and beaming; his

pink-nosed pony quite satisfied that he would have to carry more than

his own weight for some distance further.

Leaving Reconquista on the north we crossed, over an old railway

embankment, a large stretch of low country, through which a small stream

glided with winding course, and jogging along league after league we

gradually got into more interesting country: little clumps of trees with

very thick undergrowth, clinging creepers, bright-coloured flowers, and

gorgeously plumaged birds.

All along the sides of the roads were little farms, apparently

uncultivated, except for small patches of wonderfully grown maize and

browning linseed. Practically all these farms are owned by Swiss and

German peasants, each one with his small herd of cows and working

bullocks.

We changed our ponies every three or four leagues, always going at the

same jog-trot, stopping occasionally at a wayside inn to wet our parched

throats with fresh well water (with a drop of caña in it to kill the

microbes), and smoking hard all the time to keep off the swarms of

mosquitoes.

After travelling ten leagues or so we began to leave these habitations

behind us, and got into wilder country with no fences, only long

stretches of undulating land, dotted with patches of splendid-looking

trees and enticing shade.

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