About twenty miles northwest of Asuncion is the entrancing Lake Ypacara-i, twelve miles long by five broad. Its shores are dotted with the summer residences of the Asuncene aristocracy. San Bernardino is a German colony and is the most delectable place in all Paraguay. It is reached by train from Asuncion to Areguá, another summer resort where cars are changed. A couple of miles from Areguá is a station named Kendall, whence one can cross by launch to San Bernardino, where are located the Hotel del Lago and the Hotel Rasmussen, the first mentioned being the best. The scenery is beautifully pastoral and brings to one's mind Virgil's Bucolics, for here like the scenery he described in his immortal work, shepherd boys watch their ovine flocks playing melodies on slender reeds.
CHAPTER VIII
TO THE SOURCE OF THE PARAGUAY RIVER
Strolling down to the dock one day I saw a sign stating that the steamer Asuncion would be sailing for Corumbá, Brazil that same evening at six o'clock. I inquired how long it took to reach its destination, and upon being told four days, bought a ticket. I once had the misfortune of being a passenger on the S. S. Asuncion when it ran aground on a mud bank in the Paraná River and was moored twenty-six hours in midstream. It is one of the older ships of the Mihanovich Line and formerly plied between Buenos Aires and Asuncion. It has no salon and the guests are obliged to sit in the dining room. Two other steamship companies run to Corumbá. The Brazilian Lloyd with fortnightly service and the Vierci Line owned in Asuncion. The latter boats and those of the Mihanovich Line touch at all the river ports, while the only stop besides Asuncion that the Brazilian Lloyd makes in Paraguay is Villa Concepcion.
It became dark soon after sailing, and at nine o'clock we tied up to the dock at Villa Hayes, a small town on the Chaco side of the river and named in honor of Rutherford Hayes, ex-president of the United States, who was the arbiter in a boundary dispute between Argentina and Paraguay. He rendered a decision in favor of the latter country. A high wind blew all night, and without it the heat would have been nearly unbearable.
The next morning when I awoke I saw that the sides of the river were bounded by a tropical forest. The steamer hugged the east bank for here, the river a mile wide at this point, was the deepest. Beautiful racemose clusters of red lilies grew from tall slender stalks; from water oaks were suspended air plants and purple orchids; lianas ropelike, hung from the tree tops to the ground. At ten o'clock the steamer anchored off the mouth of a small stream named the Cuarepoti up which, a mile or so, is the settlement of Rosario. Several rowboats came up with passengers. About two o'clock in the afternoon, the wide and swiftly flowing Jejuy River is reached on which is the now dismantled fort of San Pedro. The Paraguay River widens out and is filled with many islets, some of them large. The forest had receded and the swampy land was flooded; from the islets in the marshes rose groves of hiaty palms and the lagoons were covered by the wonderful aquatic plant, the Victoria Regia. The leaves of this plant are round and flat, and they resemble huge floating dishes. Where the edges are turned, turtles crawl up on the leaves and bask in the sun. Besides the Victoria Regia there are lotus plants and I saw a reed resembling papyrus. As the steamer passes, crocodiles flop in the river with a heavy thud and hissing ñacaninás crawl into the dank undergrowth.
At ten o'clock that night, Villa Concepcion was reached where we remained nearly two hours. I stopped at that hellfire town for three days on my return trip and regretted it. I imagine that in the winter it is a pleasant enough place as far as climate goes, but at the time of my visit it was fierce. The rains had swollen the river, which had overflowed its banks and practically left the town an island in a fresh water sea from which emerged tree trunks. It was hotter than the fictitious Hades and a low gray vapor shrouded everything from sight mornings and evenings. The sun came out torrid several times a day, alternated by thunder showers. Bugs, reptiles, and insects were galore.
Villa Concepcion is the fourth city in Paraguay in population, although the unincorporated place of Luque is larger. Its estimated population is 15,600 although I think one half these figures would be nearer the mark. In importance, it is the second town in the republic for in the hinterland are sugar mills to which a railroad extends. The terminus is Horqueta, about forty miles inland. Concepcion is built on the left bank of the Paraguay River which here is a mile wide, and facing the town is an island. A few miles south of it, the Ipané River empties into the Paraguay.
The Ipané gives the name to Concepcion's main street, a miserable thoroughfare of one story brick and wood buildings plastered over. There are, however, a few buildings of size on this street and on the other principal street, whose name is Aquidabán. A ditch runs along each side of Calle Ipané, and there is one in the middle of Calle Aquidabán. These are crossed by planks being thrown across them. The water had washed some of the planks away which made the streets impassable. Strange to say, Villa Concepcion boasts of one automobile, a Ford. As in Asuncion the market-place is of interest, although it is on a much smaller scale than that of the capital. The main breathing place is named Plaza de Libertad from the Statue of Liberty which graces its center. It stands on an octagonal base with funeral wreaths in bas-relief, while on a ledge on top of the base are perched eight cement lions. The allegorical goddess reposes her hand upon a shield. Her picture, taken from this statue adorns the Paraguayan jubilee postage stamps of a few years back.
Sometime during the night that we left Villa Concepcion, we passed by the mouth of the Aquidabán River. It was up its valley that Francisco Solano Lopez retreated with the remnants of his brave army in 1870 closely pursued by the Brazilian cavalry, and it was at the base of a mountain named Cerro Corá at the headwaters of the Aquidabán, many miles distant in the tropical forest that he met his death, being pierced through the body by the lances of the enemy. Among his retinue was his mistress, Madame Lynch and some of her henchwomen. Strange to say when they were captured they were found clad in silken dresses of the latest Parisian creation and wearing low ballroom slippers, and this in the midst of the deepest imaginable water-soaked jungle miles away from civilization.
Early in the morning we reached the village of San Salvador with its beef-packing plant. The saladero is a stock company composed of North American and German capital. They slaughter the long-horned native cattle, which are cheap here. At the outbreak of the World War, the British Government ordered from them $240,000 worth of canned beef which was delivered and consumed by the British Army. This beef is still unpaid for. Great Britain refuses to pay on account of the majority of the shares of stock being held by Germans. By this refusal it is also hurting the interests of the North Americans who have stock in the company, which amounts to nearly one half. This defalcation of payment has put the saladeria on the hummer and it is now in the hands of a receiver.