It is now possible to travel from Buenos Aires to Asuncion without changing cars on a through vestibuled train with sleeping cars and a dining car. The time en route is but fifty-three hours, for the train leaves Buenos Aires thrice weekly at 3 P.M., and arrives at Asuncion two days afterwards at 8 P.M. Formerly Posadas was the terminus of the trains from Buenos Aires, and the travelers were obliged to wait in that stamping ground of Heidecker, Rohrsetzer, and Barthe anywhere from two to five days in order to make connection with the Paraguay Central Railroad, which ran at irregular intervals of time to Asuncion from Villa Encarnacion, the Paraguayan river port about two miles across the Alto Paraná River from Posadas. The through train is now taken on a ferry-boat a short distance above Posadas and is steamed across to the Paraguayan railway terminus at Pacu Cua.
Three hours after leaving the Chacarita Station at Buenos Aires, the lonesome town of Zarate is reached, where the train is transferred onto a car ferry that plies to Ibicui, a trip of nearly five hours through the estuaries that form the delta of the Paraná River, past marshes abounding in wild fowl who have their nests on the swampy islands. Although this delta is but three hours from Buenos Aires, it might as well be in the center of the continent as far as civilization is concerned. The crossing of this delta is always made obnoxious on account of the mosquitoes which abound here. In making this crossing most of the passengers were in the dining car. Here one could observe types. Most were Paraguayans of the upper classes returning home after a week's visit in the Argentine metropolis. Although all had just left Buenos Aires that name was but infrequently mentioned. In every sentence of their conversation was heard the word "Asuncion," a name which to the true Paraguayan means much more to them than does New York to us, or Paris to the Frenchman. It is the focus of all Paraguayan life, and although it would be but a mediocre city in this country, it is the only one of size in Paraguay.
There are two distinct types of Paraguayans. The first type of men are good sized, fairly stout, with round faces. Their eyebrows and moustaches are straight and have the appearance of being penciled. The noses of these people are Roman and their facial characteristics are strong and sensual. This type is only met with among the very highest social classes such as were the occupants of the dining car the night we crossed the delta. One of these men has one of the largest importing and general merchandise stores in Asuncion. His surname is Angulo. The other type of Paraguayan, which comprises the masses, and with whom one does not come into contact in a casual way, are swarthy, flat-chested, and narrow-shouldered. They have large ears and low foreheads, bushy eyebrows and thin noses. The middle class is not native. It is composed of Spanish, German, Italian, and French merchants. Mr. James Bryce in his book, South America: Observations and Impressions, said in speaking of La Paz Bolivia: "It has probably a larger aboriginal population than any other city in the New World, although the percentage of Indians may be somewhat greater in Asuncion, the capital of Paraguay." There are no Indians, and there is but little mixed blood in Asuncion. The early settlers originally married with the natives but the taint of miscegenation has long run out. The Asuncenos are a white folk in every respect. Indians predominate in the Bolivian capital and Bryce has never been in Asuncion.
During our evening meal on the dining car, a large beetle or bug, in circumference the size of a tea cup, flew in through the open window and made a terrific buzzing, the noise being equal to that of those toys for children which one winds up and then lets go. It flew all over the room and as its bite would undoubtedly be poisonous, it put all the occupants of the car in a pandemonium as each one was trying to get out of the way of it. It seemed to be in several different places at the same time.
It was near midnight when we reached the Entre Rios shore. The Entrerrieno landscape as far as Concordia is gently undulating, and the soil which is sandy is given over to the pasturing of herds of horses. There is not much grain grown and it is just as well, for occasionally a dark cloud was seen approaching on the horizon, which, when it broke, it was seen to be billions on billions of locusts on their way to Uruguay. They flew into the train windows, into the food, into the dining car, up one's trouser legs and coat sleeves. The noise of their crunching was most disgusting as one trod upon them while they littered the aisles of the cars. When seized, they expectorate a dark brown fluid of a most nauseating odor. They fly into the streams and wells, poisoning the water. Before arriving at Concordia, we crossed a palmetto wilderness called, in this part of the country, a palmar. Concordia, although not the capital, is the largest city of Entre Rios. It has passed in population Paraná and now has 48,500 inhabitants according to the latest estimate. It is the largest and liveliest town in Argentina east of the Paraná River and is connected by a bridge over the Uruguay River to Salto in Uruguay, which was only contemplated at the time of my visit to these cities three years before. A street-car line has been recently built and with its beef-canning establishments and as the center of a wine producing region, Concordia has some future, although the soil is sandy. This soil is much better adapted for fruit than for grain. Oranges, apples, and olives are grown.
From Concordia the train ceases to run over the rails of the Entre Rios Railroad but runs on the track of the Northeastern Argentine Railroad as far as Posadas. After leaving Chajari, the Province of Corrientes is entered and the landscape immediately changes. The country is still undulating, but the soil is rich and even soggy in places from frequent rains which are prevalent here. Everything is green and as far as the eye can see, horses and cattle graze on the short grass. Water is everywhere. There are puddles in the fields; there are small lakes; numerous streams are crossed. The blue water of the Uruguay River is at one's right beyond which, so near that you feel as if you could reach out your hand and grab them, are the rolling green hills of Brazil. Monte Caseros is reached at 4:20 P.M., a town of about eight thousand inhabitants which contains the head offices of the Northeastern Argentine Railroad. Paso de los Libres is reached at 7:18 P.M., whence one can cross by ferry to Uruguayana, a Brazilian city in the State of Rio Grande do Sul on which Francisco Solano Lopez, Paraguayan dictator, tried to march his army in 1866. This town has its name handed down to posterity by the cepo uruguayana, a barbaric method of torture which originated there and which was frequently employed by Artigas, Rosas, Lopez, and by other tyrants of a similar caliber. At bedtime the train stops at Alvear, an important livestock town.
The peasants are now Indians. They live in adobe and cane huts in the fields and are a peaceable, pastoral people. The men, both whites and Indians, wear great baggy trousers, not unlike a couple of potato sacks; these are tied to the leg above the shoe by a leather strap or cord. From the discoloration of some of these trousers, I would not be surprised to hear that they came over with the Spanish Conquistadores.
At daybreak of the second day, a train was ferried across the Alto Paraná River to Pacu Cua. The only change that I noticed relative to the train, and this was only a detail, was that the beer now served was not the vile concoction brewed in Buenos Aires but a clear amber liquid, purer in substance and fresh from the brewery of Villa Encarnacion.
The Paraguayan landscape, until the half-way station of Borja is reached, is a great semi-swampy plain with low hills and ridges covered with tropical undergrowth, here known as "islands." By speaking of this plain as swampy, I do not mean that it is under water, for such is not the case; some seasons of the year it is quite dry and after heavy rains only it is soggy. It is always passable, but is overgrown with swamp grass. Countless herds of cattle pasture here; otherwise it is uninhabitable. It contains many lakes and lagoons alive with wild ducks, plover, curlew, herons, and other water fowl; wild geese fly overhead, and when a clump of bushes is passed it is a common sight to see the dark plumed, heavy limbed ñandú, the native ostrich, shading itself under a bough on these wooded islets. Rising from the plain are many huts, the estancias of the natives, half hidden by the foliage. They are built of cane, plastered over, and with thatched roofs.
At Borja the junction for the village of Charara, the scenery changes. The land now high and dry is intersected by numerous rivers. Mountains appear to the north, and from here to Asuncion the country has a well-settled character with numerous well-built villages. Civilization in Paraguay started from Asuncion and followed the high ridge of land eastward. The railroad built from Asuncion to Paraguari is one of the oldest in South America. From Paraguari onward to Borja, civilization preceded the railroad.