A Tour Through South America

by A. S. Forrest

During a voyage I made up the river a revolution was in progress, and the town of Villetta was in the hands of the insurgents; an armed steamer lay off the town, its decks swarming with men in khaki uniforms. There were Englishmen and other Europeans on board, members of the great army of soldiers of fortune who always contrive to get mixed up with South American revolutions. On the decks of the innocent-looking tramp steamer which had been re-named the Constituccion, quick-firing and other small armaments glistened in the sunlight, whilst a wireless installation and searchlights testified to the resourcefulness of the insurgents. All along the Paraguayan banks of the river we encountered little bands of the rebels and many deserted villages. Passengers were landed upon the banks near the latter, and surrounded by their belongings were left quite contented, if not happy, with no one to welcome or receive them. In some of the villages a few women and children were left in charge, the men and youths having fled across the river to the Argentine. The women would come down to the water’s edge and exchange news with our passengers in half-amused, half-frightened tones, and many of the aspects of the revolution had an irresistibly comic side to them. Farther up the river more primitive methods of life and commerce prevail, and half-amphibious dwellings lie on the borders of the great “esteros” or marsh lands that stretch away from the river. In the rainy season these lands become vast lakes, the thick, stiff, clayey soil forming an impervious bottom. In the dry season the water evaporates, and leaves behind a grey, dusty soil of great gaping cracks, and a strong, wiry grass and stunted shrubs growing in many patches. The dreary malarious wastes extend far beyond the limits of the river’s bank, and on these placid, stagnant areas the mosquito finds a congenial breeding ground. On these swamps numerous aquatic plants grow, and the camalote and many varieties of white and blue lilies, whilst the Victoria regia spreads out its broad, green leaves and snowy flowers. On the higher lands farther to the north the landscape becomes bolder and more picturesque. Vast woods, dense and almost impenetrable, abound, and harbour a wealth of animal life. Beautifully marked jaguars, tiger cats, and ocelots make their lairs in the dark recesses of these gloomy forests, monkeys chatter amongst the trees, whilst snakes and lizards glide and dart through the confused matted undergrowth. The carpincha, the largest of existent rodents, wallows in the muddy margins of the swamps; a droll-looking animal, rapid though clumsy in its movements, possessing a ludicrous truncated face that would provoke a smile from an anchorite. The whole country is a sportsman’s paradise, for it harbours a plentiful variety of large and fierce quadrupeds, and teems with feathered game. The stately heron and gaunt stork haunt the river banks, as do innumerable water birds, ducks and geese of many native varieties. Pheasants, partridge, snipe, and pigeon fly over land and water, great flocks of parrots, with harsh, strident cries, break the silence of the evening calm. At sunset, when the dying hues of the sun incarnadine the expansive waters, the prevailing tone of greyness comes as a welcome relief, after the blinding glare of the daytime, when from a myriad diamond points the reflected light dances upon the rippling waters. The western sky is diffused with a golden or ruddy glow, and forms a mellow background to the rich, mysterious greens of the tree-clad banks. Cormorants, kingfishers, and storks sail above the surface of the water in search of prey, and when the brief period of twilight ceases the starry swarms of the heavens shine from the blue vault overhead with an amazing brilliance. The long-drawn reflections of the night-lights of the sky in the river form streaks of opal light, which move ever forward with the ship’s advance like dancing will-o’-the-wisps, the rare beauty of the tropical night is deeply impressive, and, in the silence, ideas of space are magnified by many reflections, nature becomes more mysterious, the passing hour more trivial, and man and all his efforts shrink into insignificance.

CHAPTER XIX
Asuncion

THE sun was just beginning to dispel the white morning mists when we came alongside the Aduana or custom-house of Asuncion. Our fellow-passengers were all anxious to learn the latest developments of the revolution in progress, and to discover if it was wise for them to trust themselves on shore, for it is proverbial that Paraguay is like a mouse-trap, easy enough of entrance, but difficult of exit. Alongside of the wharf or quay of the Aduana lay a small steam trawler, which, upon closer inspection, proved to be the Government battleship, its deck swarming with a dirty, ill-clad, frightened crew, who were confused by the conflicting orders shouted at them from time to time by youthful officers, barely out of their teens.

The restlessness of the crew of the Liberdad extended to the small tender that rushed about with noisy, feverish haste on various errands, and to the small row-boats manned by crews of mere boys whose faces were smacked and punched by the officers in charge whenever they missed a stroke or pulled out of time.

Upon the wharf soldiers, with bayonets fixed to their loaded rifles, lounged and smoked in the company of dark-eyed market women, who also puffed and pulled at fat cigars rolled between their protruding lips with an easy familiarity.

At the bottom of the flight of steps which led down to the water’s edge a noisy crowd of boatmen wrangled with their fares or contended with one another for favourable positions. One of these boats was occupied by an old man whose face and dress vividly recalled the well-known prints of the patriot Garibaldi, and that he was conscious of the likeness he bore to the distinguished Italian hero was obvious, for, in bright yellow letters, the name “Garibaldi” was painted upon the green stern of his tiny craft. Further inquiry elicited the fact that the owner of the likeness and the boat was one of the family of Italy’s wandering sons.

Two battleships lay far out in the river, one flying the Argentine and the other the Brazilian flag, and the crews’ weekly washing. Small launches kept coming and going from and to these fourth-rate river cruisers, giving an air of warlike activity to the port.

THE CUSTOM-HOUSE, ASUNCION.

There was no difficulty in going ashore; and, although passengers bound for stations in the interior found that the railway station was closed and under charge of an old watchman and a few old women who were resting upon the seats of the deserted terminus, they had no difficulty in obtaining rooms in the ill-kept and expensive hotels of the city.