A Tour Through South America

by A. S. Forrest

The sheep and cattle dips which are necessary to rid the herds of ticks and other insects, form landmarks on the camps, as do the iron-frame windmills which pump up the water for the stock. There has been much discussion recently as to what is the coat of arms of the Argentine Republic, and this nice question in heraldry has not yet been settled. To a stranger the matter seems simple enough, for nothing could be more suitable than a windmill revolving against an azure sky, or a herd romping on a “field vert.”

The “corrals” and runs upon the estancia are used for many purposes, such as dividing the old from the young, the bulls and heifers from the cows, the animals that are to be sold from their brothers and sisters that are not yet ready for disposal. Other “runs” are used for dipping purposes. In these the floor of the “runs” gradually descends into a long trough through which the animals have to swim, their heads being pushed under by men armed with long poles, who are stationed on the fences at either side. Sheep are handled in the same way. The dipping corrals are situated on different parts of the estancia in selected positions, and when these are at a long distance from the farmhouse the men, when employed there, cook their meals of great lumps of beef over a blaze of crackling sticks. The meat is hooked on to a long iron bar which is stuck upright in the ground, and the savoury smell of the roasting, crackling meat fills the air. When it is ready the spit is removed from the fire and stuck in the ground a little distance off, and the men gather round, and with their knives hack off great chunks weighing three or four pounds, and set to with the meat in one hand and the knife in the other, satisfying their healthy appetites. There is great waste at all these meals; the joint is not nearly consumed, and what is left is thrown into the long grass or into the dying embers of the fire. A kettle is always carried by one or other of the men to make the “maté” tea which washes down every meal. Yerba has a great reputation, and is largely consumed all over the southern parts of Brazil, Uruguay, and the Argentine, and even further south. To Europeans it is generally known by the name of Paraguayan tea, for, although it grows in Brazil, Corrientes, and the Chaco, its real home is in Paraguay, where it flourishes in great abundance, and its cultivation and collection form one of the principal industries. It is simply the dried leaves of a shrub that very much resembles the common holly bush. It has been in use by the Indians for centuries, although it was due to the untiring agricultural efforts of the Jesuits that its cultivation was first introduced. The plantations they made in Paraguay, Missiones, and Rio Grande de Sul are still to the fore, and from these cultivated shrubs the best tea is obtained even at the present time, and it sometimes goes by the name of “Jesuits’” or “Missiones tea.”

The collecting and preparation of the leaves of this shrub are generally performed by the Guarani Indians of the surrounding districts. The old-fashioned and native method of preparing the maté or yerba is quite primitive. A group of semi-nomadic Indians will search for a “Yerbula” or natural

GAUCHO PREPARING A MEAL.

wood where the supply is plentiful, and after forming a small camp of brush huts, proceed to collect and prepare the leaves for market. They clear a space of ground which they beat hard until it resembles a dark cemented floor, and upon this they pile the leafy branches of the tree. A fire is lit around this, care being taken not to ignite the branches and leaves, which undergo by this means a primitive process of roasting. The dried leaves are then reduced to powder in rough mortars formed by making holes in the ground, the surfaces of which are rammed hard by wooden mallets. The dusty mass is then packed and conveyed to the river banks, where it is shipped to a central market. A more improved method of roasting or drying the maté is practised, however, in Paraguay, where large iron pans are used for drying, and machinery is used for reducing the leaves, from which the central rib of the leaf has been removed, to a fine powder. The word maté, which is generally used to designate the tea, applies really to the gourd in which it is brewed, and is an old French word for “calabash.” It still is used in that sense, although very generally applied to the tea. The consumption of maté or yerba[1] throughout South America is very large, and is on the increase. It takes the place of China tea, and is supposed to have many virtues which neither tea nor coffee possesses. That it is sustaining there is every reason to believe; that it has a less injurious effect than tea or coffee on the system does not seem to be demonstrated; but the fact remains that the people believe in it, and have acquired a taste for it, which is largely contributed to by its cheapness. It is not agreeable to the taste of a novice, and when the “maté” is handed to the visitor, it is generally too hot for his unaccustomed palate. The addition of a little sugar helps to render it more pleasing to some judgments, but the gauchos on the camp do entirely without this addition. After a long journey there is no doubt that “maté” acts as a wonderful restorative, and the Governments of maté-producing States are endeavouring to bring about its adoption in the armies of Continental Europe.

A few days spent in camp are full of interest, but a prolonged residence is only for those who are either compelled by their occupation or held by their interests or inclinations to remain upon the solemn prairies. The utter loneliness would, without the occupations that pertain to the animal and agricultural life, turn the brain of one whose life has grown up amongst the life of cities, amidst the society of a variety of his fellows. It is almost as lonely as the great oceans. The dweller upon camps must of necessity be a student of the ever changing sky, of all its moods from sad to gay, stern to smiling, threatening to promising, a beauty ever various and full of an abstract fascination. At times clouds of brown dust swirl up in great curling volumes,

A GAUCHO.

to obscure and tone down the brilliant displays of sunset colour upon the distant clouds. Even this phenomenon has an interest, and helps to break the tiring sameness of the plains. The flights of the innumerable feathered tribe against the sky—ducks, geese, pigeons, parrots, hawks, plovers, storks, flamingoes, herons, scissor birds, and red birds an infinite variety—help to divert the mind. It requires a long residence on the plains and an unerring intuition for direction and locality, to acquire a familiarity with all these forms of life. Landmarks that the unpractised eye would overlook become live, bold and full of meaning to a gaucho and his horse, who have been acquainted with their surroundings from their birth.