A Tour Through South America

by A. S. Forrest

the beauty of their ponchos. The poncho is an overall, a gigantic fore-and-aft bib, sleeveless, but an admirable protection from the heat and rain. Hanging loosely from the shoulders, it covers the arms in its ample folds, and, like the “bombachos,” allows the air to blow round the heated body. This narrow sheet, with a slit in the middle, is found all over South America and in Mexico, and it has many advantages to recommend it over a sleeved garment. In Chili and Peru the better ones are made out of the llama wool, so fine and hard that they are almost impervious to rain, while their lightness is such that their weight is hardly felt. A good poncho in Chili or Peru often costs as much as £20, but those worn by the gauchos of Argentine and Uruguay are quite cheap and tawdry in comparison. The gaucho takes a great pride in the accoutrements of his horse, and he spends considerable time and pains to have his best Sunday or holiday saddle and bridle replete with a collection of old Spanish coins nailed on to the leather wherever opportunity offers. Brilliant red plush or dyed sheepskin is placed over the saddle, and when he is mounted wearing his best “poncho” and “bombachos,” and broad sombrero hat, he cuts a brave figure to go courting. On the camp his life is one of simple monotony, one continuous round of hard riding and attending to the cattle, searching the herds for sickness or rounding them up into “rodeo” to separate those that are ready for the journey to the “saladero,” “frigorifico,” or meat factory, branding the young cattle with the mark of the estancia, either by slitting their ears or puncturing them, or with the hot iron burning in a distinctive number upon the haunch. He rises at daylight, generally about five o’clock, and in the common, soot-stained kitchen—the “cocina” cuts a great hunk of roasted beef, takes a small handful of farina, and washes this down with draughts of yerba sucked through the “bombilla” (a little tube of metal

EVENING.

with a bulbous strainer) from the little scooped-out gourd or maté which he always carries with him. Then his day’s work begins. After harnessing his horse, he mounts and separates from his companions, each of whom takes a different direction—riding out to the particular paddock allotted to his care. In his long, lonely patrol he keeps his eye ever on the alert to discover any sick or dead animals that may be lying in the long grass. His keen and practised eye watches the flight of the carrion-birds, and when he sees these greedy scavengers gathering together he knows their quarry is not far off. With these to guide him, he searches till he finds the carcase, which he carefully inspects to ascertain the cause of death. If it is of a malignant nature, he gathers together dried grass and scrub with branches of trees, which he often has to go miles to discover, and placing them round the carcase, sets fire to it, to prevent infection from spreading to the herds. If the cause of death is not of this nature he quickly removes the hide, ties it upon his saddle, and continues on his round of inspection. It is six or seven hours before he returns to the estancia, where he pegs out the hides he has brought with him before sitting down to his “almuerzo,” or midday meal. This eleven o’clock repast varies slightly from the one he partook of in the early morning, consisting as it does of “puchero,” or boiled meat instead of roasted. The meal finished, there are duties about the steading to be seen to, and in the heat of the day the siesta to be indulged in. At three o’clock he has another meal, consisting of maté alone, before going out again to the camp; and on his return at seven in the evening he talks over the details of the day’s doings with his fellows over another meal of the boiled beef, “maté,” and farina. After a smoke, a little music from a banjo or guitar played with an untutored skill by one of the party, they seek their beds—simple pallets of canvas stretched between collapsible trestles, something like exaggerated camp-stools. Next day the same round of duties awaits him, except for the variations that arise at special seasons when sheep-shearing, cattle-branding, calf-gelding, horse-breaking are going forward. Large numbers of horses run and breed practically in a wild state upon the estancias, and the task of breaking them in falls to the gauchos. This is an art and a pastime that they revel in, and as they are paid extra for every colt that they render fit for riding, there is no dearth of volunteers for this necessary part of the estancia work. A herd of horses is driven up by a bunch of horsemen into a corral. The colt or filly to be broken is singled out and lassoed by one of the men, who drags it out into the open. More lassoes are fastened round the fore and hind legs, and the animal is brought to earth. After a raw-hide bit is fastened round its lower jaw, the frightened creature is allowed to regain a standing position, and is hitched up to a post. One man covers its eyes, whilst a great bundle of soft sheepskins is being fastened securely on its back. All this time the fore legs are kept firmly tied together. When all is ready, the man who is to break it in grasps the raw-hide bridle, and jumps lightly on its back. Then the struggle between man and brute commences in grim earnest. With a powerful whip the man belabours the struggling steed, and with a horseman riding on either side to guide the wild beast, the trio gallop off across the plain at a break-neck pace. Before this mad race is started, the untamed one struggles and bucks to rid himself of the unnatural encumbrance. He rolls on the

PEGGING OUT HIDES.

ground, lowers his head, and throws his unshod heels high into the air, and then finding that all his efforts are vain, he tears off in a wild fury, hoping to get relief. The race continues until the brute’s strength weakens, and he is turned by the accompanying riders, for he does not yet understand, nor if he could, would he yield to the guidance of the bridle. When the trio return to the “corral,” where a crowd of gauchos have stood witnessing the fun, the exhausted animal is relieved of man, saddle, and bridle, and is turned loose amongst his fellows in the corral. Then they are all set at liberty to roam the paddock till the next day, when the operation is repeated. It takes many lessons to break in a horse, and the sudden change from the completest freedom to the fastest bondage is no doubt very irksome to the animal. After about three or four weeks of training, however, the horse’s lesson is learnt, and the man’s reward is earned. There still exists on some estancias the primitive custom of branding the cattle in almost as rough a fashion as the breaking in of the horses. The herds are rounded up by the horseman into a great bunch, called a rodeo. The unbranded are lassoed by the head and horns, and dragged out of the bellowing crowd. Another lasso is thrown and captures the hind legs, and the animal, then completely overcome, is thrown on its side and the branding iron applied. In modern camps an easier method is employed. The cattle are “corralled” and driven through a long spar-railed passage in which gates are arranged for the purpose of dividing the cattle into different groups, so that as the animals move along, and one is required to go one way, a gate is opened, allowing it to pass out, the gate closing behind it, and leaving the passage free for the next to move into another division if desired. The branding is performed in this passage. One man grasps the animal’s tail and pulls it through the open fence of the “race” or passage, whilst another catches the horns and holds the head firmly against the opposite side. If the brand is to be applied to the rump, the position is in every way favourable for performing that operation; should the brand of the estancia be an ear-mark, the head is in an equally advantageous position.

Branding is a very necessary precaution against cattle-stealing. When an “estanciero” parts with his cattle, he duplicates the brand and the new owner applies his, so that the animal has three brands upon it. This prevents stealing, for if an animal has only one brand of its original owner, it is obvious to the authorities that it has not been legitimately acquired. A brand in duplicate upon an animal is evidence that it is no longer in the possession of the owner of that brand. Should he, however, repurchase one of his former stock, it will have four brands upon it, the two original ones and the two added by the last owner. Transactions, however, of this kind are not of frequent occurrence. Ear-marking is a form of branding that in some instances looks very unsightly, as, for instance, when both ears are slit down, giving the animal the appearance of having four ears.

AN “ESTANCIA.”