CHAPTER XXIV
THE CHACO, SUGAR-PLANTATIONS AND RICE MARSHES—A SEARCH FOR A RARE BIRD
The train for the Chaco left Perico at 9 P. M. It was composed largely of second-class coaches crowded with immigrants, mostly Italians bound for various parts of the great land that is being rapidly thrown open to colonization. There was, however, also a compartment-car in which we had taken the precaution of making a reservation some time in advance. The darkness prevented our seeing the landscape through which we passed, but on our return we noted that there was little change from that around Perico as far as San Pedro. There were, however, numerous fields of sugar-cane, some of very great size. Beyond San Pedro the country is all of the Chaco type; that is, vast stretches of pampas liberally sprinkled with islands of forest. The Vermejo, a river about the size of the Wabash, was crossed on a steel bridge three miles before reaching our destination, which was at six o’clock the following morning.
A group of newly erected shacks, low and so lightly built of packing-cases and corrugated sheet iron that many of them resembled mere skeletons of houses; narrow, crooked streets; shops loaded with fruits and conducted by Italians, and others festooned with bandanna handkerchiefs, gaudy wearing apparel and cheap jewelry, and owned by Turks or Syrians; gambling and liquor houses; a motley crowd of slovenly, not overdressed people, and a tropical sun blazing down mercilessly on the whole assemblage. That is Embarcacion, the “farthest east” to date in the north-eastern part of Argentina’s vast Chaco. I was told that as the railroad is extended farther and farther into the interior, many of the residents take down their abodes and ship them to the new station where they are re-assembled; and so a great portion of the town moves bodily at different intervals.
On all sides lies the seemingly limitless Chaco. There is practically no cultivation and but few herds of cattle had been introduced to date. In addition to the great possibilities for cattle-raising, the country also possesses enormous wealth in quebracho-wood; at present quantities of it are cut for use as fuel in the locomotives of several of the railroads. Within a short time, no doubt, these assets will be utilized in a manner that will be advantageous to both the exploiters and the country at large.
One of the interesting discoveries in the pampas was a wintering-place for bobolinks. The extent of this bird’s migration had been shrouded in mystery, and but a single specimen in winter plumage had ever been recorded. We found them in flocks of thousands, perched in the top of the tall grass or picking up seeds from the ground. Their cheery song was conspicuously absent. They were in spotted plumage. Small red-breasted meadow-larks (Leistes) mingled freely with the bobolinks.
Another place that never failed to attract us was a small lagoon flanked by forest on two sides, and by prairie on the others. This region was the resort of many birds. Flocks of Brazilian cardinals (Paroaria) numbering up to thirty individuals congregated in the bushes, their flaming red heads reminding one of clusters of brilliant flowers. We discovered a nest of the species, a shallow affair of grass stems, placed in the end of a branch twenty feet above the ground; in it were two eggs resembling those of the English sparrow. Small black-and-white flycatchers (Fluvicola) found the lagoon a most attractive spot. Their pear-shaped bag nests of interwoven grasses and feathers were scattered about in the overhanging bushes and also fastened to the stems of aquatic plants, sometimes but a foot above the water. There were also numbers of grebes, coots, and gallinules, and occasionally a pair of beautiful Brazilian teals visited the quiet, secluded body of water. Night-herons kept well to the tops of the taller trees; and everglade kites flew gracefully and swiftly overhead, usually singly, and rarely in pairs. We heard the weird call of chachalacas almost daily, but these birds had been persecuted by native hunters until they had acquired enough wisdom to avoid hunters and human beings in general. In one wet strip of woods we found limpkins in limited numbers. They did not seem to ever come out into the open country. There was not time to study the frogs, fish, and small snakes that we saw occasionally; nor to more than admire the myriads of flowers and curious plants growing on all sides. There was, however, another naturalist (José Steinbach) working in the locality at the time of our visit, and fortunately he devoted practically all his energies to the study of the very things we had to omit, so between both expeditions the fauna and flora were pretty well covered.
Many of the available trees were burdened with the huge stick nests of the leñateros (Synallaxis). Some of the structures measured six feet long and two feet through. They were built of thorny twigs, at the ends of branches. A heap of material is first placed at the very tip of a limb, and as the weight causes it to sag downward, more sticks are added until the huge mass hangs suspended in a vertical position. The thorns cause the whole affair to hold together so well that opossums and other predatory animals find it impossible to burrow their way through the walls to the interior cavity where the four or five white eggs, or the young birds, are cleverly concealed in a downy cup. There is usually a second chamber near the top of the nest; this is the male bird’s night quarters while his mate is incubating or brooding in the lower story.
Blue-headed tanagers (Thraupis) preferred to nest in the trees and bushes near to some human habitation, while blue grosbeaks selected more secluded sites in some little woods or thickets. The latter birds breed before the male changes his brown nestling plumage to the deep indigo-blue coat of the adult.
