THE FAZENDA DO RIO D'OURO.
My journey was continued thus under rather singular circumstances--at
the mercy of an Indian whose perfidy had been already abundantly
proved, and from whom I could expect no good.
However, I was well armed, vigorous, resolute, and set out in pretty
good spirits, convinced that my guide would never attack me to my face.
I beg to state that I was wrong in attributing bad intentions to the
poor Indian, and that my precautions were unnecessary. Don Torribio and
don Zeno Cabral had said the truth; the rude correction inflicted on my
Guaranis had had the most salutary influence on him, and had entirely
modified his intentions towards me.
He became more lively, more amiable, and especially more of a talker;
I took advantage of this change in his disposition to sound him with
regard to don Zeno Cabral.
This time also I completely failed, not because the Indian refused to
answer me, but on account of his ignorance. In a few words, this is all
I succeeded in learning.
Don Zeno Cabral was well known, and especially much feared by all the
Indians who live on the desert, and who unceasingly traverse it in
every direction. He was to them a strange, mysterious, incomprehensible
being, whose power was very great. No one knew his regular abode; he
almost possessed the attribute of ubiquity, for he had been seen at
distances far removed from each other almost at the same time; the
Indians had often laid traps to kill him without ever having succeeded
in inflicting on him the slightest wound.
He often disappeared for months together without their knowing what had
become of him, then they saw him suddenly camped in their midst without
their knowing how he had arrived there.
On the whole, the Indians, apart from the respectful fear he had
inspired in them, for the most part were much indebted to him; no one
better than he knew how to cure those maladies supposed to be incurable
by their sorcerers.
This information, if I can so call the timid and superstitious
ramblings of my guide, left me more perplexed than I was before with
regard to this man, whom everything tended to surround in my eyes with
a mysterious halo.
A word uttered, perhaps, by chance by the Indian aroused still more my
insatiable curiosity.
"He is a Paulista," he said to me, in a subdued voice, looking
cautiously around him, as if he feared that this word might fall upon
an indiscreet ear.
On several occasions during my stay at Buenos Aires, I had heard of the
Paulistas: the information which had been given me with regard to them,
although for the most part very incomplete and erroneous, had, however,
greatly excited my curiosity.
The Paulistas, or Vicentistas, for these two names are indifferently
applied to the early historians, first settled in the vast and
magnificent plains of Piratininga. There was then organised under the
intelligent and paternal direction of the two Jesuits, Antieta and
Nobrega, a colony within a colony--a sort of half barbarous metropolis,
which owes to its courage a continually increasing prosperity and
influence, and the exploits of which if some day they are related, will
form, I am convinced, a most interesting chapter in the history of
Brazil.
Thanks to the intervention of the Jesuits in Brazil, the Europeans did
not disdain to ally themselves with those strong and bellicose Indian
races who so long held the Portuguese in check, and sometimes drove
back the conquerors.
From these alliances there arose a warlike race--brave, inured to all
kinds of fatigue, and remarkably daring, who, well governed, produced
the Paulistas.
Several serious charges are laid at their door; they have been accused
from the very foundation of their colony of having shown an indomitable
and independent disposition, an affected disdain for the laws of the
mother city, and an unheard-of pride towards the other colonists.
To these accusations the Paulistas have given the most complete denial.
The province of St. Paul, peopled by them alone, is now the most
civilised, the most industrious, and the richest in Brazil.
I urged my journey as much as possible, the rather because my guide had
informed me that the fazenda do Rio d'Ouro, where don Zeno Cabral had
given me a rendezvous, was situated on the frontier of the province of
St. Paul, of which it was one of the richest and most vast achievements.
In order the more quickly to reach the end of our long journey, my
guide, notwithstanding the difficulties of the way, had led us along
the inundated banks of the Rio Uruguai.
On the fourth day after our departure from the rancho, we reached the
Aldea of Santa Anna, the first Brazilian station in ascending the river.
The excessive rise of the river had caused terrible ravages in this
miserable village, composed of scarcely a dozen ranchos. Several had
been carried away by the waters, the remainder were threatened with
speedy inundation; the poor inhabitants, reduced to the most frightful
distress, were camped on a little hill, awaiting the withdrawal of the
waters.
Nevertheless, these poor people, spite of their misery, received us in
the most hospitable way, placing at our disposal everything they could
furnish us with.
It was with an unspeakable pang of the heart and profound gratitude
that on the next day at sunrise I left these good people, who
overwhelmed us at our departure with wishes for the success of our
journey.
I continued to advance through a charming and varied landscape. Three
days after my halt at Santa Anna, about two o'clock in the afternoon,
at an angle of the route, I suddenly turned my head, and in spite of
myself I stopped, uttering a cry of admiration at the unexpected sight
of the most delicious country I had ever contemplated.
My Guaranis smiled with joy. It was to him that I owed this splendid
surprise, which he had been preparing for me for some hours by inducing
me to take, under pretext of shortening the journey, concealed paths
through almost impenetrable woods.
Before me, almost at my feet, for I had stopped on the summit of an
elevated hill, extended--enclosed in a horizon of verdure, formed
by a belt of virgin forest--a landscape of about ten leagues in
circumference, of which, thanks to my position, my eye took in the
minutest details. About the centre of this landscape, over an extent
of two leagues, was a lake, the transparent waters of which were an
emerald green in colour--the wooded and beautiful picturesque mountains
which surrounded it were covered in some places with plantations.
We were on the spot where the Curitiba or Guazu, a rather important
river, an affluent of the Parana, that we had reached, after having
traversed the Paso de los Infieles, enters the lake.
At the entry of the Guazu I perceived an isle which my guide assured
me had formerly floated, but which had by degrees approached the bank,
where it had become fixed. At first formed by aquatic plants, the
vegetable earth had been heaped up there, and now it is covered with
pretty thick wood. Then, in the distance, in the midst of a ravine
between two hills covered with wood, I perceived a considerable number
of buildings raised like an amphitheatre, and surmounted by a tall
steeple.
Below the rugged steep, on the summit of which these buildings were
situated, the Guazu rushed along, struggling over the obstacles that
abrupt rocks, covered with a verdant lichen, opposed to its course;
then, dividing into several arms, it lost itself, after innumerable
meanderings, in the sombre valleys which stretched right and left. I
could not take my eyes from the spectacle of nature in this grand,
wild, and really imposing form. I remained there as though fascinated,
not caring either to advance or recede, so great was the emotion that
I experienced, and, forgetting everything, still looking without being
satiated at this splendid view, to which nothing can be compared.
"How beautiful!" I cried.
"Is it not?" replied the guide.
"What is this magnificent country called?"
"Do you not know, mi amo?" said the Indian.
"How should I know, when I come here today for the first time?"
"Why, because this country is well known, mi amo," replied he; "people
come from long distances to see it."
"I doubt it not, but I should like to know its name."
"You see before you the fazenda do Rio d'Ouro; in former days all these
mountains that you see were filled with gold and precious stones."
"And now?" I asked, interested in spite of myself.
"Oh, now they do not work the mines; they are exhausted or inundated
with water. The master pretends that it is much better to work the
earth."
"He is not wrong. What is the name of the good man who reasons so
judiciously?"
"I do not know, mi amo; they pretend that the fazenda, and all the
lands appertaining to it, belong to don Zeno Cabral, but I should not
dare to assert it; but, for that matter, it would not astonish me, for
singular things are related as to what passes in the caldeiras that
you see down there," added he, pointing with his finger to three round
holes in the form of a funnel, pierced in the rocks.
"What do they relate, then, that is so extraordinary?"
"Oh, frightful things, mi amo, and things which I, a poor Indian,
should never dare to repeat."
It was in vain I pressed my guide to explain himself; I could only draw
from him ejaculations of fright, accompanied by innumerable signs of
the cross. Wearied of doing so, I gave up asking any farther about a
subject which appeared to displease him so much.
"In what time will we arrive at the fazenda?" I asked.
"In four hours, mi amo."
"Do you think that don Zeno will already have arrived, and that we
shall meet him?"
"Who knows, mi amo? If the señor don Zeno wishes to have arrived there,
he will be there."
Beaten on this point as on the first, I finally gave up asking my guide
questions, to which, according to his pleasure, he made such ridiculous
answers, and I confined myself to giving him the order to proceed.
By degrees, as we ascended the valley, the landscape changed, and
assumed aspects of a striking character. I thus traversed, without
perceiving it, the pretty considerable space which separated me from
the fazenda.
At the moment when we began to ascend a rather wide and well-kept path
that conducted to the first buildings, I perceived a horseman who was
galloping towards me at full speed.
My guide touched me lightly on the arm with a quiver of fear.
"Do you not recognise him? It is the seigneur don Zeno Cabral."
"Impossible!" I cried.
The Indian shook his head several times.
"Nothing is impossible to señor Zeno," murmured he, in an undertone.
I looked more attentively; I recognised, indeed, don Zeno Cabral, my
old companion of the pampa. He wore the same costume as at our first
meeting.
In a minute he was near me.
"Welcome to the fazenda do Rio d'Ouro," said he to me joyfully, holding
out his right hand, which I grasped cordially; "have you had a good
journey?"
"Excellent, I thank you, although very fatiguing. But," added I,
noticing a slight smile on his lips, "although I do not yet rank myself
with a traveller of your calibre, I begin to be perfectly accustomed to
it; moreover, the aspect of your beautiful country has completely made
me forget my fatigue."
"Is it not beautiful?" said he with pride; "And does it not merit to be
seen and appreciated?"
"Certainly."
"You have been satisfied with this bribón, I suppose," said he, turning
towards the guide, who kept himself modestly and timidly in the
background.
"Quite satisfied; he has completely redeemed his fault."
"I knew it already, but I am happy to hear you say so, that puts me on
good terms with him."
"Go on ahead, pícaro, and announce our arrival."
The Indian did not wait for a repetition of the order.
"These Indians are singular characters," said don Zeno, looking after
him "you can only subdue them by threatening them with harshness; but,
on the whole, they are not bad."
"You except without doubt," I answered, smiling, "those who wished to
do you so bad a turn when I had the pleasure of meeting you."
"Why should I do that? The poor devils acted with good intentions, from
the point of view produced by their narrow ideas."
"Do you not fear to become one day the victim of their perfidy?"
"It will be as it shall please God; as to me, I shall accomplish the
mission that I have imposed upon myself; but never mind that, you will
remain some time with us, will you not, Don Gustavio?"
"Two or three days only," I answered.
"You are in a great hurry," said my host.
"By no means; I am absolutely master of my time."
"Then, why do you wish to leave us so quickly?"
"Why," I replied, not knowing exactly what to say, "I am afraid of
discommoding you."
"Don Gustavio," said don Zeno Cabral, "abandon once for all those
European fashions, which are out of place here; you cannot discommode
a man like me, whose fortune amounts to millions of piastres, who is
master, under God, of a territory of more than thirty square leagues,
and who commands more than two thousand white, red, and black people.
In accepting frankly the hospitality that such a man freely offers you,
as to a friend and a brother, you do him honour."
"Upon my word," I answered, "my dear host, you have a style of doing
things which makes a refusal absolutely impossible, so do with me as
you like."
"Well and good, that's speaking plainly, without circumlocution or
reticence. But make yourself easy; perhaps even if your vagabond
notions still possess your heart, I shall make, some days hence, a
proposition which will make you smile."
"What?" I eagerly exclaimed.
"I will tell you, but hush! Here we are arrived."
Five minutes later, indeed, we entered the fazenda, between a double
row of servants.
I shall not dilate on the style in which hospitality was offered me in
this truly princely abode.
Some days passed, during which my host endeavoured in every way to
amuse me.
However, notwithstanding all his efforts to appear cheerful, I remarked
that something weighed on his mind. I did not dare to ask him about it,
fearing to appear impertinent, but I waited with impatience till he
afforded me an opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, by asking him some
questions which I had continually on my lips, and which I with great
difficulty repressed.
At last, one evening, he entered my room. A servant, who accompanied
him, carried several bundles of papers.
After telling the servant to put these papers on the table, and sending
him away, don Zeno seated himself near me, and after a moment of
reflection--
"Don Gustavio," said he, "I have spoken of an expedition in which I
thought of having your company."
"Just so," I answered, "and I am ready to follow you, Don Zeno."
"Thank you, my friend; but before accepting your consent, let me give
you some words of explanation."
"Do so."
"The expedition in question is one of a most serious character; it is
directed towards well-known countries, which have been rarely, and at
long intervals, trodden by the foot of the white man. We shall have
nearly insurmountable obstacles to overcome--terrible dangers to run.
Notwithstanding the precautions I have taken to secure our safety, I
must tell you that we risk death in the midst of hordes of savages. As
to me, my sacrifice is made."
"And are you going?"
"Yes, I am going, for I have the most important reasons for doing so;
but as to you, your position is not the same, and I do not see what
right I have to take you with me in a desperate venture."
"I shall go with you, Don Zeno, come what may; my decision is taken, my
resolution will not change."
"Well," he said, in an agitated voice, "I shall not argue anymore.
Several times we have spoken between ourselves about the Paulistas; you
have asked me for information about them; that information you will
find in these notes that I leave you. Read them attentively, they will
make you acquainted with the motives for the expedition that I now
undertake."
It is these notes, placed in order by me, followed by an account of
the expedition in which I took part, that the reader is now about to
peruse. I have only taken the precaution to change certain names and
dates, in order not to wound the just susceptibility of persons still
living, and worthy, according to all report, of the estimation in which
they are held in Brazil.