England clings to old and sometimes unsatisfactory ways. When I visited the abattoirs at Liniers I thought it would be no bad thing if a number of British municipalities sent a shipload of representatives to Argentina to study up-to-date slaughter-houses. One of the most important features of Liniers is the veterinary pavilion, with rooms for bacteriological and microscopical observations. There are twenty veterinary surgeons who make it their business to examine every carcase and stamp it before it is permitted to be sold as food. The annual entry at the abattoir is, in round numbers, 750,000 sheep, 100,000 pigs, and 1,250,000 cattle. Yet the animals slaughtered for local consumption represent only three-fifths of the beasts sold in Buenos Aires, the rest going to the slaughter-yards attached to the freezing houses. These animals are not reared only in the province of Buenos Aires. Other provinces supply cattle, Cordoba, Santa Fé, Entre Rios, Corrientes, and further afield.
One of the most instructive places is the sheep market, covering 500 acres. Not only are there pens innumerable, but there are two galleries set apart for sales so that buyers may obtain a quick bird's-eye view of the stock offered. A police representative is constantly on duty, keeping a lookout that the marks are all right and preventing sheep stealing. Ten sanitary inspectors make inspection of sheep as they go along the gangway or race. Any sheep showing signs of disease is sent to the necropolis—supervised by the cattle division of the Ministry of Agriculture—is killed and examined. Over 4,000,000 sheep are inspected every year. Of these nearly 3,000,000 go to the freezing establishments and the others are either for local consumption or are bought to be fattened. On an average 4,000 railway wagons a month come in to Buenos Aires filled with sheep.
More than once I was made conscious of the deep disappointment amongst Argentine breeders that there is an embargo in Britain against the importation of live stock. They insisted that if there were disease it would show itself during the three weeks' sea journey, so that British herd owners should have no fear of their own cattle being contaminated. The Argentines cannot get it out of their minds that it is not fear of disease, but protection for the British farmer which really actuates the British Board of Agriculture. Notwithstanding the increase in the sale of chilled and frozen meat, the Argentines, of course, recognise that the Englishman would prefer fresh killed meat if he could get it at a sufficiently cheap price. The steady increase in the price of home-grown meat in English shops is noted, and all the strings possible are being tugged in order to induce the British Government to relax. Besides, there is a considerable body of opinion in Great Britain itself, occasionally voiced in Parliament by the representatives of industrial constituencies, favourable to the importation of foreign animals, of course under proper inspection. Were admission granted, there would undoubtedly be a fall in the price of meat. But, even eliminating the natural antagonism of the British farmer, there is the consumer to be considered. Without joining in the combat whether Argentine meat is as good as British meat, there can be no doubt that the home buyer prefers the home article, and in innumerable cases he is prepared to pay more for it. There is the possibility, the danger if you like, if live stock from Argentina were admitted, for certain graziers to buy them, give them a week or two on English meadows, and for the retail butchers, either in ignorance or with the intention to mislead the purchaser, to ticket the sides as "English fed."
Though Argentines grumble at the British ports being closed to them, causing a slump in their export of live stock, they acknowledge that the effect has been counterbalanced by the increase in the export of frozen meat. "Therefore why should they make such a fuss?" may be asked. Simply because the Argentines are eager to find an outlet for the productive capacity of their country. They do not rest on their oars. They are looking to the future. There is no question in their minds what Argentina can do. They do not want to be baulked by restrictions. It may be argued that, whilst they are zealous to secure freedom for their goods in oversea markets, they do not show any inclination to give an equally wide freedom to the goods of other countries in their own markets. That, however, just shows that considerations which often influence individual traders do not disappear when the nation acts collectively.
The point to be marked—and it is the significance of much in this chapter—is, that although other new nations provide increasing amounts of meat, Argentina is as alive as any of them to the growing necessity for the industrial communities of Europe—constantly increasing whilst agriculture stands still or slides back—to look across the oceans for their meat supply. The meat will be wanted. Competition to supply it will be keen. In some European countries the live stock is diminishing. Countries which formerly did much business in supplying neighbours have now enough to do to supply themselves. Even Switzerland, unable to provide for her own needs, and no longer able to get what she requires from France and Italy, has turned to Argentina. The doors are closed by some European Powers, including Spain. But Argentina is keeping a watch on the artisan classes in commercial Europe. She expects the day will soon come when they will clamour for cheaper meat, and break down the doors. When that time does come, Argentina is determined to be ready with a full basket.
[CHAPTER XI]
THE STORY OF THE RAILWAYS
I think I have made it clear that, accepting Argentina as an amazingly fertile country, it is the railways that have chiefly been instrumental in making it one of the most prosperous lands, with a big part to play in providing food for the world. To-day 95 per cent. of its stock and produce is carried over some part of the 20,000 miles of line representing nearly £200,000,000 of British capital.