journey, but it also made the going very heavy, and instead of
travelling for the usual two hours before relieving horses, we were
obliged to make an early stop for a change. This is always an
interesting sight, for the animals are so well trained. Our total number
is 87, and when a halt is called, these animals are all lined up in a
row, generally against a wire fence. At the word of command they range
themselves, backed close against the fence in a long line with their
heads outwards. Packed tightly together they await the inspection of
their master, who chooses the animals he requires, and as they are
standing thus they allow themselves to be haltered up and led quietly
away from the line to be harnessed. Their training is wonderful, but it
is really amusing to watch the expression of the horses as they stand in
a row while the selection takes place, they seem to be saying "Please,
sir, not I this time." Where no wire fence is available, the peons
stretch a rope or lasso out, and the horses will line up against that in
the same manner. During our first change of horses, unexpected
excitement occurred. The Saint perceived a plaid horse--at least this is
what she called it, and we believed it to be German for piebald
horse--from which a peon had dismounted. This horse must have reminded
her of the circus-riders of her childhood (or possibly her action was
owing to temporary aberration); anyhow, without a word of warning, she
leapt astride the native saddle and gave a short display of how it
should be done. However, fortunately from her point of view, though
disappointingly from that of the spectators, the piebald animal had not
been trained to circus tricks, and only quietly ambled along for a few
yards, during which time the cameras came into full play. After The
Saint had been persuaded to dismount, and the horses were harnessed up,
an onward move was made, and it was not long before we met our host for
the day. He had ridden to the furthest outposts of his section to join
us, and under his guidance we were conducted to two or three spots,
where The Instigator inspected rodeos of animals in his charge.
We arrived at the Section house of Polvareda about midday, and found
that our host had prepared an alarmingly sumptuous repast for his influx
of visitors: as course followed course, roast ducks dodged the turkey,
and were pursued by plum pudding, etc., we began to wonder if our host
thought that meal would have to last us for the fortnight of our trip.
But we discovered that he came from the West of England, and had not
forgotten the ideas of hospitality current in that part of the world.
Rumour had it that he himself had been seen carrying about pails of
scalded milk at 4 a.m. This proceeding explains the delicious Devonshire
cream and butter we are enjoying.
The afternoon was spent in driving or riding round the section to
inspect various windmills, more groups of cattle, wells, fencing, and
new alfalfa, etc. Our host, as we were driving round, took the
opportunity for giving us a short, successful exhibition of buck-jumping
with his steed, whether willingly or not, neither he nor history
mentions. At eventide, another excellent repast was provided, and The
Saint was so impressed by the catering and culinary skill of our host,
that she decided to inaugurate a prize to be won by the bachelor
estanciero who shall provide the best meals for the hungry nomads during
the trip; certainly our host for to-day has put the standard very high
for the other competitors. A short telephonic communication was held
during dinner with Our Hostess at Cristobal, and "All's well" was
reported on both sides.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Stacking Alfalfa._]
[Illustration: _Alfalfa Elevator at Work._]
* * * * *
"THE TACURU."
No. 2.
_Sunday, March 27th, 1910._
The party did not sit up late last night; they had a short talk on the
verandah for the sake of digestion, and then all retired to bed, but
alas! not to rest. Foolishly they had imagined that mosquitoes were
things of the past, and no nets were put up, with the result that one
and all soon learnt that for fresh blood and newcomers there was a
plethora of these little demons waiting with their irritating song,
sting, and bite: from some of the party we learn complaints of other
songs, more human, and more nasal, and it is believed that it was Our
Guest who was heard at midnight to be murmuring the chorus of a
favourite song, viz., "Hush, boys! No noise! Silence ebryting! Listen,
and you'll hear de little angels sing." At least it says "angels" in the
song, but the word Our Guest used sounded like "demons," but probably he
was dreaming of the "ping" of bullets and the roar of battle as the
snores resounded through the room, or, one might almost say, through the
house. Very early this morning there were cries for The Chaperon: he was
wanted to tell the time; he was wanted to bring water for ablutions; he
was wanted to tell us when breakfast would be ready; he was wanted to
give advice or remedies for mosquito bites, and, in general, for a short
space of time, he justified his existence. When at last the members of
the party had collected themselves from all sorts of odd corners,
coffee (with the addition of bacon and eggs, and several other things)
was served, and the interval, before the order "All aboard" was issued,
was chiefly occupied in observing and discussing the effects of our
first night's experience of bichos. Our Guest, after due deliberation,
laid down some useful rules for future guidance, the chief being, "Never
be without a Mosquitero": his face and head were literally enlarged on
this point, and he assured us that a mosquito's proboscis is an
impressive point. Apparently The Kid, too, would have liked to give her
views on mosquitoes and their ways, but her uninteresting remarks were
cut short by The Wild Man's order of "kennel up," and, given a bottle of
cana, she seemed quite happy. Our Guest seemed to have an impression,
also, that someone had blundered. He knew someone had slumbered (some
had not), and plaintively he begged that he might be allowed in future
to sleep at one estancia further ahead of the rest of the party.
Most of the nomads had had some slapping acquaintance with mosquitoes
during the night, and the showing of bites, swellings, lumps, etc., only
ended when The Jehu ordered the bugle to be sounded for an onward move.
We were well under way before half the lamentations had been entered in
the station complaint book.
Bidding adieu to Polvareda, where the green fields of alfalfa show the
march of progress, we pushed forward, but as we left we were unable to
decide whether it was a desire to escape observation (and, perhaps, the
too-effusive thanks of the lady members of the party), or a violent
toothache, which caused our host to conceal himself in a huge blanket
wrapped around his head as we left, but we fear it was toothache that
necessitated the extra wrappings.
[Illustration: _The Green Fields of Alfalfa_.]
We had not gone far on our journey before we crossed the bridge over Las
Conchas. The manager of the next section met us soon afterwards, and we
inspected the cattle on his domains. On our way from Polvareda to
Michelot we passed the emporium of the Universal Provider of the North,
in other words, "the stores," where most of the necessities and many of
the luxuries of life can be obtained. The Saint can never resist the
desire of a bargain, and others of the party were anxious to see all
that the stores contained, so we made a halt and inundated the building,
where everything was extraordinarily neat and clean, shelves piled high
with bales of bright-coloured cottons, cloths, and handkerchiefs; hats
hanging in long lines, brilliant saddle-cloths, pipes, knives, tobacco,
axes, leather goods and harness, every variety of tinned foods, barrels
of flour, sugar, etc., all arranged with precision, and showing
cleanliness and method at every turn. Some men were sitting on the
benches, smoking and drinking and chatting together, for apparently "the
stores" constitutes the local rendezvous and news agency for miles
around.
The Saint at once made purchases, for no place is stamped on her memory
unless she has spent money there. She wanted to make the whole party
presents of hats, handkerchiefs, or pipes, but she was restrained, and
ultimately satisfied her generosity by choosing the best saddle-cloth
the establishment could supply, and one or two hats. We went into the
living-rooms of the storekeeper, and found the same attractive neatness
there. A gramophone occupied a side table, and skins and pictures were
hanging on the walls. The storekeeper's wife and her sister were
attractive Englishwomen; there were two or three children running about,
but none of them could speak anything but their father's native
language. After this inspection we drove on, and we are glad to be able
to register the fact that Our Guest for once acted up to the first part
of the old adage, "Earn sixpence a day and live up to it." The Jehu's
coach had stayed behind for a while, to allow The Instigator to observe
and note a great many things which were no business of his at all, and
the peons had likewise remained, but The Saint, having fulfilled her
mission of purchasing whenever possible, was content, and anxious to get
on to the Section house for a rest before her afternoon ride, so The
Chaperon drove on with his coach, and we are assured, on what we
consider good authority, that when Our Guest perceived a closed gate in
the way, and no peon at hand, he leapt from the carriage (perhaps "flew"
would be a better word) and opened that gate. Possibly he had been fired
with ambition to earn money while inspecting those crimson and blue
handkerchiefs at the stores, for we know he appreciates "colours"; but,
whatever his motive, he _did_ open that gate, and let it be recorded to
the honour of his fellow-passengers that his action was not allowed to
pass unappreciated or unrewarded. When all the party were collected at
Michelot estancia house, lunch was served on the verandah by a
dour-looking Oriental, who apparently combined the duties of cook and
parlourmaid in his own somewhat yellow person, and very well he
performed his task, but as he went silently about his business of
serving this large party, which he did with a slow precision and
apparent utter disregard of his master's orders, he reminded us
irresistibly of the soi-disant American definition of "Life," and we
began to wonder whether it were not a Chinaman who summed up existence
in the words, "After all, Life is only one d----d thing after another."
[Illustration: _Herd of Cattle._]
A short siesta followed lunch, and after an early tea everyone mounted
horses or carriages and went forth to see the sights of the
Section--everyone, that is to say, save The Chaperon, who had other work
to do; he it was who discovered and averted what might have been a
disaster. Some members of the party were quite content as long as they
were given three cups of tea, others fancied cocktails, and some babbled
for cocoa. It was suddenly found that the supply of this last useful
article was running short. The Kid not being a cocoa-drinker, casually
suggested filling up the tin with tannin extract or dust; she said "it
looked the same and nobody need smell it," but The Chaperon declined to
resort to subterfuges and rode off to the stores to supply a deficiency
caused by his own lack of attention.
At Michelot, as at Polvareda, great progress has been made of late
years, alfalfa laid down, fences and wells made, and the cattle are
improving yearly. Our last sight, before the inspection for the day was
finished, was a wonderful rodeo of 3,000 cattle, which we viewed from
the vantage point of the banks of a newly made reservoir. It was a
striking picture, which will not easily be erased from the memory of
those who saw it. The cattle, with their long continuous lowing, were
rounded up below us, and away on the horizon the sun was setting with
the glory one never sees better elsewhere than over a plain, leaving, as
it rapidly sank from sight, marvellous shades of gold and crimson on the
fantastically shaped clouds. Save for the animals and their drivers just
around us, the whole vast space seemed so still and empty, yet on every
hand were traces of man's labour and skill, conquering a tract of land
which was almost valueless a few short years back.
On our return to the house we found dinner for us on the verandah. This
was a delightfully cool method of taking food, but rather apt to attract
beasties, and although the philosophers and friends of the party
arranged the lights to keep away insects as much as possible, and
succeeded in their efforts, some members of the party preferred to take
no risks and dined with veils wrapped around their heads, only leaving
their mouths available. The Wild Man caused some excitement before we
sat down to dinner by introducing us to a beast he called a "railway
insect." It certainly strongly resembled a railway train, with its green
light on its head, red at the tail, and luminous yellow lights all over
its caterpillar-like body; it was a most interesting discovery, and the
Wild Man went up in everyone's estimation for a few minutes. The
Oriental again served us with silent steadiness. It was suggested that
one of our "boys" should assist him in the task of waiting on the party
of twelve, but notwithstanding the fact that he had been told he might
kick round any boy he chose to make an assistant, he waived aside all
outside help with the words "no good," and continued on his way
imperturbably.
The Instigator, with The Delineator and The Jehu, had a long discussion
after dinner on various Argentine subjects too deep for the ordinary
mortal, though The Wild Man and The Chaperon seemed to be trying to take
an intelligent interest in the conversation. Our Guest sat silent,
looked sad, and on being offered a penny for his thoughts, he murmured
that he was wondering whether he would be allowed any sleep to-night.
Doubtless he felt wearied, because, as it is Sunday, The Chaperon had
been allowed to take a half-day off for his own amusements, and Our
Guest, perhaps stimulated by his financial success of the morning,
offered to fulfil the duties of chaperon during his absence; but we
regret to say that we cannot candidly advise Our Guest to take up
chaperoning as a means of livelihood, for though willing and tactful, he
lacks the long training and apprenticeship necessary for continual
service in this arduous work.
The ladies seemed happier, for they had noted the mosquito nets over
each bed in their room, and they looked forward to a peaceful night. We
had our usual communication with Our Hostess over the telephone before
retiring, and received and gave satisfactory reports from both sides.
A correspondent wishes to know if any of our readers can name the author
of these lines:--
"Heaven gives sleep to the bad, in order that the good may be
undisturbed." He would also like to know if this generally accepted
quotation is quite correct, or whether the "un" is a misprint. Replies
to "O.G.," c/o THE TACURU.
Owing to the innumerable applications which we have received for
advertising space in our widely circulated periodical, we have decided
to open our columns to advertisements at the rate of 50 cents per line,
applications to be sent to "The Advertisement Editor," THE TACURU
Offices, c/o The Jehu, First Coach. All orders must be prepaid.
* * * * *
ADVERTISEMENTS.
WANTED.--Bricklayers who can build straight.--Apply Manager, Michelot.
RIDING TAUGHT by a lady, side-saddle or astride; fees go to
Charity.--Apply "T.S.," c/o TACURU Offices.
BOOT CLEANING undertaken in best style. Gents', per pair, $1; Ladies',
per pair, for the asking.--Orders received by "T.C.," Offices of this
Paper.
* * * * *
"THE TACURU."
No. 3.
_Monday, March 28th, 1910._
Owing to the care with which the mosquito nets had been put up, there
were few complaints of bites when the party assembled for breakfast, but
the conversation chiefly degenerated into an argument on phonetics. The
different rooms held various views on the harmonizing of sounds. Had it
been a glee competition we should undoubtedly have given the award to
the verandah party. Sleeping on the bricks seems to bring out the
sweetness of a treble voice as nothing else can do. The Saint and My
Lady both remarked that they were very fond of music, but they could not
appreciate being awakened from their beauty sleeps, by the announcement
in a raucous voice of "No, thank you." They do not wish for a moment to
imply that The Kid was not perfectly justified in refusing whatever she
did refuse, but they would like her in future to confine her
conversations to the daytime if possible, and to leave their nights in
peace. It was a happy thought on the part of The Jehu to suggest a
picnic at the Waters Meet to-day, before our forward move on to Los
Moyes, and after breakfast we started out. First we went to inspect the
site where the new house is to be built, then on to the pretty little
monte near by, where some picturesque photographs were taken of the
cavalcade of riders. We paused in this tiny monte, for it is an
intensely interesting spot from a botanical point of view, and with care
and attention should be so for some years to come. In an extraordinary
small compass this wood contains more varied specimens of trees than one
would ordinarily see in a day's journey. So on to Waters Meet. Here one
is afforded an opportunity for studying the watershed of this portion of
Argentina. Three rivers meet here, the Concha, the Calchaqui, and the
Northern Salado. The latter is the only perennial river in that region;
it rises in the snowy peaks of the Andes, in the province of Salta,
miles away, and it is not to be wondered at, that, though it is a
slow-moving river and meanders through the Gran Chaco, in the times of
floods its swollen waters overflow their banks and flood immense tracts
of land. Thomas Page, an American Admiral, in the year 1855, navigated
this river from its junction with the Parana to the spot where we were
to-day, but when he went up it there was so little water in the river
that he had to give up the idea of continuing his pioneer task of
exploration. It had been his intention to open up the river for trade,
and there is no reason why this should not be done at some future date.
The Calchaqui goes under different names at various places. It rises on
the great swamps on the North-East of the Santa Fé Land Company's
territory, and flows through a chain of lakes and cañadas until it runs
into the huge laguna "Del Palmar," and thence along what used to be the
Eastern boundary of the Santa Fé Land Company's lands, until it joins
the Salado.
The Calchaqui must drain at least 150,000 acres of land, and the Rio
Concha has a watershed of about 60 or 70 thousand acres. It is not known
what the area of the watershed of the Salado is, but it must be immense;
therefore it can be understood that the meeting-place of the waters of
these three rivers is an interesting spot geographically, and we were
all glad to have seen it. On our arrival at the Water Meet we had our
first introduction to the native "asado," and we all hoped it would not
be the last. The peons collected (apparently from nowhere), in less time
than it takes to write about, sticks and odds and ends for a fire, over
the ashes of which they broiled the meat, holding it over the heat on
long skewers of wood. The meat was brought to us cooked, still on these
skewers, and each one cut off, or had cut off for them by The Jehu, the
portion he or she preferred, and a very hearty and merry meal was made
by all. The resulting silence of repletion was only broken by a murmur
from The Saint of "My heart is full," which sentiment, anatomically
amended, was echoed by all.
[Illustration: _Expanse of Alfalfa_.]
When active exertion was once more possible everyone repaired to the
banks of the Waters Meet, and a spot being found where there were no
dead fish lying about, the ladies (under the tutorship of Our Guest and
The Jehu) indulged in a little rifle-shooting at bottles. We fear that
we cannot record any marvellous marksmanship on their part, for the
bottles were still bobbing about on the water when the ladies' party
retraced their steps to the "camp." A cup of tea was suggested before
the returning drive, and it was thought possible (though not probable)
that The Kid might be useful on this occasion. However any hopes in this
direction were speedily dispelled when (after a great deal of noise and
talk) she appeared with a thick black liquid, which proved absolutely
undrinkable. True it was poured from a tea-pot, but anything less like
"tea" as one usually meets it at 5 o'clock, could scarcely be imagined,
and the air seemed full of the unspoken query, "Has everyone a use in
this world?" The drive back to the estancia house was as pleasant as
that of the morning, and there we found the Chinaman (who, owing to the
strenuous exertions of The Chaperon, now appeared with considerably less
hair, and obviously a more swollen head), had gauged correctly the
incompetency of The Kid, in the brewing of his native beverage, and
consequently had prepared a beverage which might pass for tea, and was
enjoyed by all. After this refreshment a move was made, the luggage had
gone on, and the party followed in their two coaches. We now began to
approach a more pleasing country, and drove through little montes of
scrub and trees, with a few bright-coloured verbena and cacti growing
near the ground, making a brave show, and that larger optunia, the
prickly pear, with its silver grey appearance and the bright crimson of
its fruit showed up occasionally against the low trees. Altogether, the
land had a more homelike and less expansive appearance, as it was broken
up by these little groups of trees. It was a glorious drive. We were
favoured with another exquisite sunset which shed weird and beautiful
light over this strangely quiet and empty country. As the four-horse
char-à-banc had started some minutes ahead of the more modest two-horse
vehicle, it was to be supposed that it would reach the destination, Los
Moyes, first, and we hear that there was some consternation expressed by
the party of the smaller coach when, on their arrival they found that
nothing had been heard, or seen, of the more ambitious vehicle. However,
The Chaperon on being appealed to, impassively murmured "They're all
right," and started to give orders for unloading, and putting up beds
and generally arranging matters as if the section house belonged to him,
and this callousness on his part, we are told, calmed the others
sufficiently to allow of their enjoying the remnants of the sunset,
undisturbed by any thoughts of the horrible fates which might (but were
not likely to) have overtaken their companions.