Steps at Cacheuta Leading from the Railroad Station to the Hotel

The poor travelers still go over the Cumbre. They hire mules for fifty pesos Chileno apiece ($4.90) at Los Andes, leaving there early in the morning long before daybreak and arriving at the Argentine station of Las Cuevas in the afternoon in time to catch the afternoon train to Mendoza.

At Santa Rosa de los Andes down the valley of the Aconcagua at an altitude of 2698 feet, we changed trains for here we reached the broad gauge of the Chilean State Railways. It is a pleasure to be able to travel again in clean and comfortable cars. Those of Argentina are terrible; they are dirty, old, and worn. The toilets are dirty and the lavatories are generally lacking in towels. In Chile are Pullman cars of American manufacture; the locomotives are local, or are made in Germany. I came from Cacheuta on the special car sent by the Argentine Government to convey the special ambassadors and envoys with their distinguished guests to the inauguration ceremonies and installation of the new President of Chile, Sr. Luis Sanfuentes, who succeeded Sr. Ramon Barros Luco, whose term expired December 23, 1915. This party included Romulo S. Naón, special ambassador, Colonel Carlos S. Martinez, military attaché, Captain José Moneta, naval attaché, Sr. Iriondo de Irigoyen and Sr. Albert d'Alkaine, secretaries to the Embassy and myself. Brazil was represented by Senhor Luis Martins de Souza Dantas, special ambassador. Portugal sent her minister to Argentina, Colonel Botelho, a very quiet miniature old man and his military attaché, Colonel Martin de Lima, a middle-aged small gentleman. At Los Andes, we were met by the welcome committee of the Chilean government, its units being the pick of the land politically, socially, and from rank in military and naval affairs. After being photographed and presented with flowers by comely maidens dressed in white, who came to greet us and who sang a song especially composed for our honor, we were escorted to a private train where we were dined and wined on the way to Santiago.

CHAPTER V
SALTA AND TUCUMÁN

Mr. William Boyce, of the Chicago Saturday Blade, made a trip to Tucumán and wrote a chapter about it in his book, Illustrated South America. This book I read with pleasure and determined that I should visit that city if ever an opportunity presented itself. One morning, armed with credentials and letters of introduction to prominent personages in the far provinces, I boarded the train for Tucumán. Two railroads connect Buenos Aires with Tucumán, the Central of Córdoba and the Central of Argentina. I traveled by a train that runs over the rails of the latter.

Mariano Saavedra, 288 miles north of Buenos Aires is the town where the River Plate scenery ends, and the vast, monotonous plains begin. Up to here through the broad expanse of corn fields, whose limits are bounded by the horizon; past funereal towns of unpointed red brick buildings, the open doors and windows of which have the aspect of morgue entrances and apertures; past mournful cemeteries of blackened crosses; and past peasant houses embowered in groves of weeping willows, the dirty tri-weekly express train sped us by in a cloud of stifling, blinding, eye-smarting, ear-filling dust. At Mariano Saavedra we come to the unbounded, limitless plain of coarse green grass on which myriads of cattle graze. This, the province of Santa Fé, is the true plain of Argentina. From history and from fiction we imagine the great plains to be the central and the southern provinces, consisting of what is geographically the western part of the province of Buenos Aires, the Province of San Luis, and the territory of Pampa. This is not the true fact. In all these geographical divisions are rolling hills, and streams in deep-lying canyons. Here in Santa Fé, I doubt if there is a single hill. A broad landscape, dry and dusty but by no means rainless, and yet fruitful, meets the eye of the traveler. A dark cloud on the horizon approaches, and when overhead breaks into a swarm of locusts, which in many instances destroy in a single day the whole untiring year's work of the farmers. They are not such a pest as they were in former years, but yet a terrible scourge.

At 10:30 P.M. the town of Ceres is reached. This place, a railway division point, is built at the corners of the provinces Santa Fé, Córdoba, and Santiago del Estero, the last-named province being that which the train now enters and which it takes all night to cross. Do not imagine that this dusty, smoky town is named after the Goddess of Agriculture. It is a synonym of all that is evil among human inhabitants, namely overwhelming dust, locomotive smoke, and locusts which dart through the empty windows of the coaches like hot coals, and are pulled out of ones food, beer, hair, pockets, and even underdrawers, of all sizes and shapes from three inches downwards, never failing to expectorate a dark brown sputum, like tobacco juice but purulent.

I sat in the dining car with a young dentist named Hallmann, of German birth but who had an American diploma. He resides at Santiago del Estero where he made twenty thousand dollars at his profession during the last two years. There is only one other dentist in that city, an American, but Hallmann says the latter has no trade because he is drunken. He told me that in Santiago del Estero he was always obliged to accept cash before he pulled a tooth on account of the swindling tendency of the natives. Several months later, I accidentally met Hallmann on the Avenida in Buenos Aires. He had made enough money in Santiago del Estero and was on his way to Philadelphia, where he had formerly practiced, to open up an office.

The Province of Santiago del Estero has an area of 39,764 square miles and a population of 264,911. It is a plain varying from 450 to 550 feet above sea level. Its climate is extremely hot. Most of the surface of the soil is covered with a dense brush of mesquite and quebracho trees, which are cut into cordwood and used as fuel on the locomotives. The capital city is Santiago del Estero, frequently spoken of in Argentina as Santiago. It is an antiquated city of seventeen thousand inhabitants and is one of the oldest towns in the republic having been founded in 1553 by Francisco de Aguirre on the Dulce River. It is the seat of a bishopric, which was created in 1908. The present incumbent is Dr. Juan Martin de Yañiz y Paz. On account of its isolation, Santiago del Estero has not prospered as it should have.

The inhabitants of the Province of Santiago del Estero are mostly dependent for a livelihood on the sale of quebracho. This wood which rarely attains a growth of thirty feet is of a deep red color and is used as a dye wood. Its supply seems inexhaustible but its export is now at a standstill on account of a slump in the market. It thrives in dry climates for in this province where it frequently goes for a stretch of seven months at a time without a rain, it attains its perfection. The northern provinces of Argentina have it over its southern neighbors in the fact that no matter how dry the country is, if it lies within the proper altitudes it is forested.