Thus mounted, with no other saddle than that described, no bridle but a thin strip of raw hide looped around the lower jaw of his horse, he will gallop wildly over the plain, wheel in graceful curves to avoid the burrows of the viscacha, pass at full speed through the close-standing and often thorny trunks of the palms, or, if need be, stand erect upon the withers of his horse, like a “star rider” of the Hippodrome. In this attitude he looks abroad for his enemies, or the game of which he may be in search; and, thus elevated above surrounding objects, he discovers the ostrich far off upon the plain, the large deer (cervus campestris), and the beautiful spotted roebucks that browse in countless herds upon the grass-covered savannas.
The dwelling of the Chaco Indian is a tent, not covered with skins, but usually with mats woven from the epidermis of young leaves of a palm-tree. It is set up by two long uprights and a ridge-pole, over which the mat is suspended—very much after the fashion of the tente d’abri used by Zouave soldiers. His bed is a hammock, swung between the upright poles, or oftener, between two palm-trees growing near. He only seeks shelter in his tent when it rains, and he prevents its floor getting wet by digging a trench around the outside. He cares little for exposure to the sun; but his wife is more delicate, and usually carries over her head a large bunch of rhea feathers, à la parasol, which protects her face from the hot scorching beams.
The tent does not stand long in one situation. Ample as is the supply which Nature affords in the wilds of the Chaco, it is not all poured out in any one place. This would be too much convenience, and would result in an evil consequence. The receiver of such a benefit would soon become indolent, from the absence of all necessity for exertion; and not only his health, but his moral nature, would suffer from such abundance.
Fortunately no such fate is likely to befall the Indian of the Chaco. The food upon which he subsists is derived from many varied sources, a few of which only are to be found in any one particular place, and each only at its own season of the year. For instance, upon the dry plains he pursues the rhea and viscacha, the jaguar, puma, and partridges; in woods and marshy places the different species of wild hogs (peccaries). On the banks of rivers he encounters the tapir and capivara, and in their waters, fish, utrias, geese, and ducks. In the denser forest-covered tracts he must look for the various kinds of monkeys, which also constitute a portion of his food. When he would gather the legumes, of the algarobias—of several species—or collects the sugary sap of the caraguatay, he must visit the tracts where the mimosae and bromelias alone flourish; and then he employs much of his time in searching for the nests of wild bees, from the honey of which and the seeds of the algarobia he distils a pleasant but highly intoxicating drink. To his credit, however, he uses this but sparingly, and only upon grand occasions of ceremony; how different from the bestial chicha-drinking revellers of the Pampas!
These numerous journeys, and the avocations connecting with them, hinder the Chaco Indian from falling into habits of idleness, and preserve his health to a longevity that is remarkable: so much so, that “to live as long as a Chaco Indian,” has become a proverbial expression in the settlements of South America.
The old Styrian monk Dobrizhoffer has chronicled the astounding facts, that among these people a man of eighty is reckoned to be in the prime of manhood; that a hundred years is accounted a common age; and that many of them are still hale and hearty at the age of one hundred and twenty! Allowing for a little exaggeration in the statements of the monk, it is nevertheless certain that the Indians of the Gran Chaco, partly owing to their fine climate, and partly to their mode of life and subsistence, enjoy health and strength to a very old age, and to a degree unknown in less-favoured regions of the world. Of this there is ample and trustworthy testimony.
The food of the Chaco Indian is of a simple character, and he makes no use either of salt or spices. He is usually the owner of a small herd of cattle and a few sheep, which he has obtained by plundering the neighbouring settlements of the Spaniards. It is towards those of the south and west that he generally directs his hostile forays; for he is at peace with the riverine provinces,—Brazilian, Paraguayan, and Correntine.
In these excursions he travels long distances, crossing many a fordless stream and river, and taking along with him wife, children, tents, and utensils, in short, everything which he possesses. He fords the streams by swimming, using one hand to guide his horse. With this hand he can also propel himself, while in the other, he carries his long lance, on the top of which he poises any object he does not wish should be wetted. A “balza,” called “pelota,” made of bull’s hide, and more like a square box than a boat, carries over the house utensils and the puppies, of which there are always a large number. The “precious baby” is also a passenger by the balza. The pelota is propelled, or rather, pulled over, by means of a tiller-rope, held in the teeth of a strong swimmer, or tied to the tail of a horse; and thus the crossing is effected.
Returning with his plunder—with herds of homed cattle or flocks of sheep—not unfrequently with human captives, women and children, the crossing becomes more difficult; but he is certain to effect it without loss, and almost without danger of being overtaken in the pursuit.
His freebooting habits should not be censured too gravely. Many extenuating circumstances must be taken into consideration,—his wrongs and sanguinary persecutions. It must be remembered that the hostilities commenced on the opposite side; and with the Indian the habit is not altogether indigenous, but rather the result of the principle of retaliation. He is near kindred to the Incas,—in fact, some of the Chaco tribes are remnants of the scattered Peruvian race, and he still remembers the sanguinary slaughter of his ancestors by the Pizarros and Almagros. Therefore, using the phraseology of the French tribunals, we may say there are “extenuating circumstances in his favour.” One circumstance undoubtedly speaks trumpet-tongued for the Chaco Indian; and that is, he does not torture his captives, even when white men have fallen into his hands! As to the captive women and children, their treatment is rather gentle than otherwise; in fact, they are adopted into the tribe, and share, alike with the rest, the pleasures as well as the hardships of a savage life.