public nuisance in the shape of the amalgamation of two members of
the party, who are obviously descended from some long ago Christy
Minstrels. We believe that, taken separately, one at a time, at
long intervals, the aforesaid members can be tolerated for a few
minutes (personally, we find them nauseating to a degree, under the
most favourable circumstances), but together, when they attempt to
be bright and amusing, and fancy they have a sense of humour and
intelligent wit, they are absolutely impossible. They might have
been useful (say in 1500) as the final torture decreed by the
Inquisition, but in this year of grace of 1910, they are
unwarrantable, and we shall be grateful if immediate steps can be
taken for their separation, if not for their entire suppression. We
are, Dear Sir, still suffering from violent headaches, caused by
being shut up in the same coach for three hours with these
imbeciles.
Yours truly,
T.D. and M.L.
* * * * *
HARD CASE No. 1.
The prize of five cents has been awarded to a correspondent O.G. (who is
requested to forward his real name and address as soon as possible) for
the best solution to the Hard Case we published yesterday. He says that
in those circumstances the lady should undoubtedly allow herself to be
fed, and should do all in her power by opening her mouth widely, and
turning her head slightly in the direction of the gentleman on her
right, to assist him in his self-imposed task, and thus to avoid giving
him the impression that he had committed an unusual social solecism in
commencing to feed her.
Numerous correspondents have sent in solutions, but we consider the
above the best. Several answers have also been sent to the second part
of the question, and all agree that the gentleman on the left had no
shadow of excuse for causing the lady's nose to rest in the jelly. Such
a proceeding is totally without precedent in the highest circles.
* * * * *
"THE TACURU."
No. 6.
_Thursday, March 31st, 1910._
THE LARGEST CIRCULATION OF ANY DAILY PAPER PUBLISHED ON THIS TRIP.
Everyone was astir early this morning, remembering The Instigator's
final warning last night of the necessity for an early start, but, on
assembling for breakfast at 7 a.m., The Instigator himself was missed.
His hawk-like eye (we apologise to Our Guest) had noticed some Galpon,
or drinking trough, or something, which he must, of course, investigate
before leaving Lucero, and dragging off The Delineator and The Jehu, he
quite forgot breakfast and the "early start," as he fussed over his
new-found interest, and it was not until he was captured forcibly by a
search party that his companions were allowed to come in to
breakfast--after the rest of the party had finished. Much to everyone's
delight the morning was bright and fine, and all promised favourably for
the excursion into the unknown.
While waiting for the start, considerable interest was caused by the
home-building operations of some birds, who were constructing a nest
under the eaves of the outbuilding, and manipulating the mud for its
construction in a most clever manner. One bird flew off to get some mud
while the other energetically fashioned the last piece into shape in the
nest, then, when the first returned, the second bird flew off to get her
contribution of clay; so the moulding of that nest grew apace while we
watched its progress.
Before we set out a pleading message came (and it was not the first,
either) from those left at headquarters, begging us to give up our
exploration scheme, and, in view of weather reports, to return in peace
to the civilisation of San Cristobal; but needless to say, nothing
daunted, The Instigator still kept to his determination to see all there
was to be seen, and the more people try to dissuade him from a thing,
once he has decided to do it, the more fixed becomes his intention to do
that thing. So, expostulations were useless, the final preparations and
farewells were made, a last communication held with Our Hostess at
Cristobal, before our passing into the wilds, and the Tacuru coaches
with their freight of precious humans, and still more precious food and
drink, started off from their pleasant rest at Lucero. Someone was heard
to murmur as the coaches drove off--
"Then hey! for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
The Instigator _must_ have his tour, lad,
And _never_ will give way!"
But this puerile parody met with the indifference it deserved, and,
accompanied by the Section Manager, we commenced our journey, travelling
for some hours over the land which is in his charge. "Monte," too,
seemed to consider that his presence as a guide and friend would be
necessary to the party, and came along with us; he is a "wild" dog of
the deerhound type, who was taken as a tiny puppy from a litter found in
a wood near Los Moyes, and has ever since been devoted to his captors.
There is a calm air of disinterested abstraction about "Monte" which is
very satisfying, and he is undoubtedly a philosopher. One of the two
Indian guides we picked up during the day's journey also had a dog, but
it was of a very different appearance and character to "Monte." "Monte"
looked on mankind in general as needing his care and supervision, while
the little black smooth-haired terrier felt "the great passion" for one
alone. His master was evidently his god, and if he lost sight of
"master" for two minutes it was really touching to hear his cries,
almost like those of a child, as he tried to trace his master through
the shallow water which we sometimes crossed.
His yelps as he splashed along, nose to the ground, almost voiced the
sentiment:--
"Rank and wealth I pass unheeding,
Never giving them their due;
For my heart and soul are needing,
Nothing in the world but "YOU!"
And he and his "YOU" were never very far apart.
In a country where kindness to animals is not considered necessary, and
is very rarely found, this example of devotion between dog and man was
all the more noticeable and appreciated. Needless to say, as soon as The
Saint observed it she wanted to "give the man a present," and was only
restrained from doing so because she had nothing suitable for
presentation in her luggage, or in that of The Instigator.
About one o'clock we came to the banks of the Salado, concerning the
crossing of which river we had heard so much. We had been told it was
impossible and impassable; that the rains had swollen the river too much
for a safe passage; that at the best of times the banks were too steep
and slippery for carts to negotiate, and that all idea of crossing had
better be given up. The Instigator and The Jehu merely smiled when they
heard of these difficulties, but some members of the party had wondered
how the traversing of that river was to be accomplished, and they were
agreeably surprised, on reaching the spot chosen for crossing, to find
that a tenant had built a narrow "tajamar," or earth bank, across the
river, which at this place was not very wide. Everyone dismounted, the
horses were taken out, and all hands were in request to pull the
vehicles across. First went the coaches, then the luggage carts were
dragged over. To illustrate the difficulties of the proceedings we
publish one of the many photos taken, during the crossing of the
tajamar. Our Guest was one of the first to help in the conveyance of
these carts. Apparently, since the gate-opening episode, he has "learnt
the wisdom early to discern true beauty in utility," for he is always to
the fore when work is to be done, and in this case his athletic training
proved the truth of the Yankee expression that "It's muscle that tells."
The Delineator and The Wild Man, as usual, when real hard work presents
itself, "thought the party would like photographs of it," and, armed
with their cameras, retired to safe distances, where the work could not
possibly interfere with them or they with it, and took photos of the
progress of the carts. We cannot complain, however, of their action (or
inaction, rather), for the resulting pictures make a good memorial of
the crossing of the Salado by the "Tacuruers." The ladies rushed to
assist when they saw that photos were being taken, but, as the carts
were well over the danger line by the time the ladies were at the
ropes, we have no pictured record of their deeds, which, we may note,
were really quite valueless at this point.
[Illustration: _Crossing the Salado._]
[Illustration: _The Effect of a Long Drought_.]
Once the horses, carts, and luggage were safely across the tajamar the
more serious business of cocktails and lunch was thought of, and, in an
incredibly short time, the usual asado of meat, brought from Lucero, was
under discussion.
The unfortunate sheep who were still spared were let out for a short
run.
The Kid, too, was set free in the hopes that she might possibly prove
useful now, but, judging from her attitude during the preparations for
lunch, we should say those hopes would not be fulfilled.
As we rest after our arduous crossing of the Salado, our thoughts are
inclined to wander to the awful tragedy enacted here in the year 1904.
It was a disastrous year for many of the northern camp men. There was an
appalling drought of long continuation, for which all the northern camps
were totally unprepared; the river over which we have just passed became
the concentration spot for all that is most terrible at such times. It
is not exaggerating the case when we say that 15,000 animals (some of
them having travelled south for 100 miles or more), forced by instinct,
and guided by wire fences, came to drink from the foul, polluted chain
of water-holes which then represented this river. One can imagine the
horror and distress of it all--not a blade of grass for miles, where
to-day the vegetation is luxuriant, and not a drop of water in this
river on whose banks we are resting, only a few mud-holes in which
hundreds of decaying carcases were embedded. This is what the cattle
found after their long journey south, through which they were daily
growing weaker. It is not surprising to hear that, at one place alone
on the river-bed, over 3,000 hides were taken off dead animals, and,
probably, it is well within the mark to say that at least another 1,000
were lost. Well may we wonder, "Why this terrible suffering and loss?"
And the answer comes back, "Human negligence." It was the want of wells
which caused all this misery; cattle will bear drought for a long time,
but the actual want of water maddens them and causes the death of
thousands. If the northern camps are to be colonised and are to become
prosperous, the first necessity is the obtaining of a supply of good
water; second in importance only to the water supply is the fencing of
the camps, by which means a control over the cattle is established;
refined camps, better grasses, and alfalfa, will all follow in due
course; and anyone who has studied these northern lands would have no
hesitation in predicting that these camps will, in time, prove just as
profitable as any in the vast Republic of Argentina, and this is saying
a good deal, as those who have travelled over the rich southern camps
will realise. But, for his own sake, and for the sake of the cattle in
his care, let it be the first business of the estanciero to provide good
and sufficient wells, so that the terrible history of 1904 may never be
repeated.
[Illustration: _Refined Camps._]
However, the scene is different to-day, with a pleasant sunshine, the
crisp air sweeping over the uncultivated camp of natural grasses, and
plenty of water in the river; but we cannot linger, so, after the pipe
of peace for some, and a short siesta for others, "the all-aboard" bugle
was sounded, horses were put in, carts packed once more, and, after a
farewell to our host--who was returning to the section house--we went on
ahead into the wilder regions, and had a pleasant, though rather short,
drive for two or three hours before The Jehu called a halt. He explained
that we should require at least an hour for the unloading and erection
of the tents, tables, etc., before dusk; therefore, as the sun was only
a hand's breadth from the horizon (roughly speaking, an hour before
setting), we must dismount. He had chosen a pleasant spot for the camp
of the night, not far from a small ranch, and here the coaches halted.
Of course the luggage carts could not come up until some time later, as
their loads were so much heavier, and My Lady became even more popular
than usual when she suggested that the wait should be beguiled with a
cup of tea, and produced her tea-basket from the coach; true, we found
that there was no tea, but My Lady had plenty of cocoa. Water was
obtained from the house near by, and a very welcome cup of cocoa handed
round, accompanied by an unexpected slice of cake which apparently
appeared from nowhere, and which disappeared equally effectively, for it
was decidedly useful fodder and appreciated as such by all.
We discovered here that our friend "Monte" had declined to go back after
lunch with his present master to Lucero, but had chosen to accompany his
past master on this expedition. His presence was an agreeable surprise.
He was found surveying the party with his calm scrutiny, and apparently
he approved of our spot for camping, also of the cake.
As The Chaperon could find no work to do before the carts arrived, he,
for once, relaxed from his terrible strain of usefulness, and tided over
the tedious hour by trying to "throw the knife" in the most approved
cowboy manner. As each member of the party had had their "tea" (he was
practising with the knife which was used for the carving of the
cake--and anything else, when needed), no one objected to this harmless
amusement on his part, provided he did not pitch the knife on to their
toes; and, after long exercise, with the help of The Wild Man, who is
an adept at these tricks, The Chaperon at last succeeded in "throwing
the knife" to his satisfaction, and others' terror. A sigh of relief
escaped the lips of those who were dodging the knife when they saw the
luggage-carts looming in the distance. They at once drew the attention
of The Chaperon to the approach of the carts, and were rejoiced to see
him return the weapon to its sheath (in his leggings), and stiffen into
the attitude of action once more.
No sooner were the carts on the spot than every member of the party was
at work, or pretending to be so. Poles were taken off the carts, luggage
uncovered, canvas was everywhere, yells for "the mallet" alternated with
the resounding blows struck, with the same, by the strong men of the
band, tent-pegs bristled all over the ground, everyone wanted the hammer
at the same time, and apparent chaos reigned for half an hour; then,
behold! as by magic, the din ceased, two tents had been securely
erected, floored with canvas, the luggage was placed under another
covering of canvas, a table, with plates, knives, forks, etc., was ready
in an open space, camp-stools stood around it, beds, blankets, sheets
and pillows galore were in each tent, and the smell of roasting meat in
the distance rose pleasantly upon the air. The place looked as if the
party had been accustomed to camp there regularly once a week, so well
was everything arranged. Nothing had been forgotten which could add
comfort, for all hands had been working hard, and each peon, too, had
done his share; in fact, the sight would have rejoiced the soul of the
most ardent, red-tied Socialist, for surely never did a community carry
out more thoroughly the principle of "each one working for the happiness
of others." True, there was no trade union to limit their exertions, but
that was an omission for which we may be thankful.
As the dusk quickly deepened, the peons gathered round their fire, over
which the meat was cooking, a little distance from the camp site; the
lamps were lit and hung from poles, and the party looked with
satisfaction on their handiwork. It would have made an interesting, and
not unpicturesque illustration, if one could have obtained a photo of
the "Primera Vista" camp that evening.
But it was at this time, just when all seemed smiling and happy, that
the travellers were to go through their first real trial, for here the
discovery was made of a serious loss. It was spoken of in whispers at
first, but gradually the whispers increased to a murmur as the loss
became generally known; yet neither man nor woman quailed, and none
could have told from their outward bearing the bitter struggle they were
inwardly facing. A cynical traveller once said, after noting the
innumerable number of statues in the land, "South America has evidently
produced a phenomenal number of heroes," but we are inclined to think
their tale has not been told if those who bore their trouble so bravely
that night are to be "unhonoured and unsung." Think what it meant, you
who may read this, in years to come, in civilised places, comfortably
seated in your armchairs, conveniently near the cellaret, and,--honour
our brave! They had at least two days to face (with no prospect of
obtaining supplies anywhere) and they discovered, here, that _the case
of whisky was lost,_ left behind, vanished--they knew not what, only
that it had disappeared!
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs not to moan or sigh,
E'en though their throats were dry,
Noble "Tacuruers"!
True, the comforting thought that they still had a bottle and a-half of
the precious drink with them may have helped them to keep their spirits
up with the hope of pouring spirits down, but a bottle and a-half is
not much amongst so many thirsty souls for three days, and, we repeat,
that great courage and bravery was shown by the equanimity with which
the party bore the news of their loss.
A minor loss was that the dinner napkins were not forthcoming, but that
surprised no one, for they were in the charge of The Kid, and, of
course, she had forgotten them at Lucero. We believe she said something
about their being "left to be washed" there, but no one listened to her,
and we used glass cloths instead.
At our first camp evening meal everyone did justice to the goods that
The Chaperon provided. Coffee was not forgotten, and, after their
dinner, the more musical members of the band tried to sing--it kept the
mosquitoes off--and when "a catch" was attempted even the bicho colorado
was cowed into silence. We had looked forward to hearing the guitar
played by one of the peons here. He had brought his instrument with him,
but, unfortunately, had dropped a large packing case upon it, which did
not improve its tone, and this accident prevented our hearing the
national dances played on a guitar in the open camp as we had hoped to
do.
Weary with the exertions of the day the party turned their thoughts and
steps early towards those tents where rows of little bedsteads, each
with its mosquito net above, looked so attractively inviting, and before
long lights were out and peace reigned as far as possible.
"Thus done the Vales to bed they creep,
By whispering winds soon lulled asleep."
Guards were set and they, with Monte, were left to protect the horses
and camp through the night.
CORRESPONDENCE.
_March 31st, 1910._
SIR,
I feel that, as I am in a measure responsible for the presence of
the two people to whom your correspondents of yesterday object, I
should like to apologise, through the medium of your paper, for the
inconvenience these two people have caused, and to assure your
correspondents that steps shall be taken to prevent a repetition of
the annoyance. The fact is, that both of them are so rarely out of
Bedlam at the same time that I had not realised the necessity for
keeping them apart, nor the danger of their amalgamation, but they
shall be kept in separate coaches in future, and I can only express
my sincere regret for the mischief and trouble they have caused.
I am,
Yours, etc.,
THE INSTIGATOR.
* * * * *
A correspondent writes to know if any of our readers can solve the
following problem for her:--"'A' starts on a seven days' journey with
eighty-seven horses, he loses two, one of which he finds next day, and
at the end of the week has 110 horses." The enquirer has searched
through her "Hamblin Smith" but can find no honest method of solution.
* * * * *
ADVERTISEMENTS.
EXPERT GUIDE.--Anyone requiring a really good guide, thoroughly
conversant with the Chaco, ways of wild Indians and animals, please
apply "T.W.M.," Offices of this paper. Good shot, can cook and sew,
able to point out all the beauties of nature, animal and vegetable.
Terms moderate. Inspires confidence in the most timid ladies by his
winning smile.
LOST.--One tin of gingerbread biscuits (Huntley & Palmer). No reward is
offered, as they will probably be eaten by the time this advertisement
is in print. If anyone would return the tin, as a recuerdo, to Lucero,
advertiser would be obliged.
LOST.--Lucero. Several good horses.
* * * * *
Several correspondents have written to know whether it is not a menace
to the rest of the community for one member of the band to sleep
promiscuously on the bricks, or anywhere else handy, at night. Two or
three say they have tripped over him in the dark and consider it would
be a safeguard if anyone preferring to spend the night in this way were
compelled by law to burn an anchor or other light. They are quite
willing to believe that the offender had had at least one "starboard
light" at some period of that night, but that light had lost its power
of illumination at the time our correspondents tripped over the
prostrate figure, and they wish to suggest that in future, people
sleeping out should use some means to safeguard unwary passers-by. (We
give the complaint the publicity it deserves and trust steps will be
taken to right the matter.--ED.)
"THE TACURU."
No. 7.
_Friday, April 1st, 1910._
ADVERTISE IN "THE TACURU"--THIS ENSURES YOUR WANTS BEING KNOWN IN EVERY
COACH.
We fancy that most of the party were awake to see the dawn this morning:
it may have been that they only saw the first streaks of light between
the openings of their tent as they lay in bed trying to soothe the
itching of the mosquito bites, but we think that few were asleep as the
sun rose gloriously from the mists on the horizon. It was a strange
sight, the sudden flooding with bright sunlight of that rough camp land,
which scarcely owned a tree or shrub. It may be the primitive barbarian
lying dormant in all of us though hidden under generations of
civilization, which makes us feel a close communion with Nature when we
see her in these great uncultivated wastes; but, whatever the causes of
the sympathy, these pictures, of wild untouched Nature, leave an
impression and a longing more deep than any experience gained in years
of civil life; none will ever regret having seen that sunrise on the
plain, though all regretted the cause of their wakefulness this morning.
Of course The Chaperon was up and clothed (he always seemed to be) and
ready to get basins of water, looking-glasses, shaving materials and all
luxuries for the others. The ladies were heard to enquire why he did not
bring them early tea and hot water, but, on the whole, he combined the
duties of valet and maid fairly efficiently.
Rumour has it that The Chaperon had given instructions that he was to be
called by the guard an hour before dawn, so, in the dark, he was
awakened by hoarse whispers of his name and gentle shakings. After he
arose it occurred to him that it felt more like the middle of the night
than the morning, and he enquired of the peon what time it was, the
answer coming in soft Spanish, "Can't say, the cocks have not crowed
yet!!!" On investigation The Chaperon found it was scarcely 4 a.m., so
spent the remaining two hours sitting round the camp fire with the
peons, alternately dozing and sucking maté. We believe he heard some
expert opinions on the subject of the "roncadors" of the camp during his
vigil. At any rate he had full opportunity for proving the reality of
Ruskin's words, "There is no solemnity so deep to a right-thinking
creature as that of dawn." At the same time he was heard to murmur
something to the effect that he would prefer a little less of the "deep
solemnity" and a little more of "deep slumber" another morning.