Odd people

by Mayne Reid

Chapter Six.

The Centaurs of the “Gran Chaco.”

I have elsewhere stated that a broad band of independent Indian territory—that is, territory never really subdued or possessed by the Spaniards—traverses the interior of South America, extending longitudinally throughout the whole continent. Beginning at Cape Horn, it ends in the peninsula of the free Goajiros, which projects into the Caribbean Sea,—in other words, it is nearly 5,000 miles in length. In breadth it varies much. In Patagonia and a portion of the Pampas country it extends from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and it is of still wider extent on the latitude of the Amazon river, where the whole country, from the Atlantic to the Peruvian Andes,—with the exception of some thinly-placed Brazilian settlements,—is occupied by tribes of independent Indians. At either point this territory will appear—upon maps—to be interrupted by tracts of country possessing civilised settlements. The names of towns and villages are set as thickly as if the country were well peopled; and numerous roads are traced, forming a labyrinthine network upon the paper. A broad belt of this kind extends from the Lower Parana (La Plate) to the Andes of Chili, constituting the upper provinces of the “Argentine Confederation;” another apparently joins the settlements of Bolivia and Brazil; and again in the north, the provinces of Venezuela appear to be united to those of New Granada.

All this, however, is more apparent than real. The towns upon the maps are in general mere rancherias, or collections of huts; some of them are the names of fortified posts, and a large proportion are but ruins,—the ruins of monkish mission settlements long since gone to destruction, and with little else than the name on the map to testify that they ever had an existence. The roads are no roads at all, nothing more than tracings on the chart showing the general route of travel.

Even across the Argentine provinces—where this nomenclature appears thickest upon the map—the horse Indian of the Pampas extends his forays at will; his “range” meeting, and, in some cases, “dovetailing” into that of the tribes dwelling upon the northern side of these settlements. The latter, in their turn, carry their plundering expeditions across to the Campos Parexis, on the headwaters of the Amazon, whence stretches the independent territory, far and wide to the Amazon itself; thence to the Orinoco, and across the Llanos to the shores of the Maracaibo Gulf—the free range of the independent Goajiros.

This immense belt of territory, then, is in actual possession of the aborigines. Although occupied at a few points by the white race,—Spanish and Portuguese,—the occupation scarce deserves the name. The settlements are sparse and rather retrograde than progressive. The Indian ranges through and around them, wherever and whenever his inclination leads him; and only when some humiliating treaty has secured him a temporary respite from hostilities does the colonist enjoy tranquillity. At other times he lives in continual dread, scarce daring to trust himself beyond the immediate vicinity of his house or village, both of which he has been under the necessity of fortifying.

It is true that at one period of South-American history things were not quite so bad. When the Spanish nation was at the zenith of its power a different condition existed; but even then, in the territory indicated, there were large tracts circumstanced just as at the present hour,—tracts which the Spaniards, with all their boasted warlike strength, were unable even to explore, much less to subdue. One of these was that which forms the subject of our sketch, “El Gran Chaco.”

Of all the tracts of wild territory existing in South America, and known by the different appellations of Pampas, Paramos, Campos Parexis, the Puna, the Pajonal, Llanos, and Montanas, there is none possessed of a greater interest than that of El Gran Chaco,—perhaps not one that equals it in this respect. It is interesting, not only from having a peculiar soil, climate, and productions, but quite as much from the character and history of its inhabitants, both of which present us with traits and episodes truly romantic.

The “Gran Chaco” is 200,000 square miles in extent, or twice the size of the British Isles. Its eastern boundary is well-defined, being the Paraguay river, and its continuation the Parana, down to the point where the latter receives one of its great western tributaries, the Salado; and this last is usually regarded as the southern and western boundary of the Chaco. Northward its limits are scarcely so definite; though the highlands of Bolivia and the old missionary province of Chiquitos, forming the water-shed between the rivers of the La Plata and the Amazonian basins—may be geographically regarded as the termination of the Chaco in that direction. North and south it extends through eleven degrees of latitude; east and west it is of unequal breadth,—sometimes expanding, sometimes contracting, according to the ability of the white settlers along it borders to maintain their frontier. On its eastern side, as already stated, the frontier is definite, and terminates on the banks of the Paraguay and Parana. East of this line—coinciding almost with a meridian of longitude—the Indian of the Gran Chaco does not roam, the well-settled province of Corrientes and the dictatorial government of Paraguay presenting a firmer front of resistance; but neither does the colonist of these countries think of crossing to the western bank of the boundary river to form any establishment there. He dares not even set his foot upon the territory of the Chaco. For a thousand miles, up and down, the two races, European and American, hold the opposite banks of this great stream. They gaze across at each other: the one from the portico of his well-built mansion, or perhaps from the street of his town; the other, standing by his humble “toldo,” or mat-covered tent,—more probably, upon the back of his half-wild horse, reined up for a moment on some projecting promontory that commands the view of the river. And thus have these two races gazed at each other for three centuries, with little other intercourse passing between them than that of a deadly hostility.