Sometimes there is no water, and the children are only too glad to stoop and scrape up the muddy dregs in the print of a horse’s hoof, or else they look for the caraguata plant, which generally has a little water at the bottom of its long, prickly leaves.
On the sandy plains there are tiny insects which burrow into the feet, and make them swell until they are very, very sore. Sometimes so many of these insects get in that you can scarcely walk at all.
All at once someone catches sight of a herd of wild pigs feeding; then away go our little Indian friends, snatching up sticks, to chase and if they can to capture a pig.
At night-fall another halt is made, this time by a stream, for there are fish and alligators to make a splendid meal. So all the things are unpacked, and the houses of twigs and leaves are soon erected. A big fire is kindled, and after an “alligator” supper, quiet once more reigns in the camp as another night falls, wooing the Chaco children to sleep under the twinkling stars.
The Lengua Indians are very fond of their children, but they seldom correct them when they are naughty. If mother should attempt to correct them, father very unwisely interferes, so I am afraid a great many Chaco children are spoilt.
When Mr W. Barbrooke Grubb came to the Gran Chaco the Indians showed him plainly by their manner that they did not want him. This, however, did not discourage him in the least, but only spurred him on to try to win their favour. He made himself one with them; he learned their customs and their language; he travelled when they travelled, took part in their feasts, and lived exactly as they did—until finally he won their confidence and love. How they needed the Gospel, for they were in gross heathen darkness! They had no religious customs, though they had their witch-doctors, and lived in constant dread of evil spirits.
Amongst the Indians here “baby-killing,” which grown-up people call “infanticide,” is sadly very common. “Superstition,” writes Mr Grubb, “causes many of these deaths. Girl babies, if they are born first, are put to death; deformed children are also killed, and twins are never allowed to live. Many die through want of care during the first years of childhood.”
How heartless such customs seem! Yet there is something still more sad, which has to do with their beliefs. For many years Mr Grubb tried to show the Indians “the better way,” and to do away with the cruel practice of killing their babies.
Their burial rites are very weird, and no funeral ever takes place after sunset. If, therefore, a sick Indian is likely to die in the night, before sunrise, they bury her or him before the sun goes down, even though the spirit may not have left the body, break up their camp, and move away before they settle down for the night.
The mother of a dear little Indian girl became very ill one day. The husband, who really loved his wife, did all he could to make her well, but in spite of this she gradually grew worse instead of better. When he saw that she could not possibly live, and that all hope was gone he left her alone.