Connected with this lake is the tradition, which has been handed down by early Spanish writers, of a nation of pigmies who were said to have lived in islands in the midst of it, a tale which the first discoverers, who were generally as ignorant as they were brave, seem to have as implicitly believed as that a race of giants once occupied other parts of the same continent.

Both tales are easily traceable to their true origin, and neither of them is without a plausible foundation.

The bones of extinct animals of monstrous size, so frequently met with, gave rise, as well they might, to the story of the giants. The pigmies are a race unfortunately not yet extinct, and are palpably the ants, whose marvellous works (especially in the part of the country I am speaking of), vying with those of man himself, are no less calculated to have occasioned at first sight, amongst credulous people, the most far-fetched conjectures as to their origin. I have made some allusion, in speaking of the course of the river Paraguay, to their ingenious contrivances in the lakes of Xarayes (where also the pigmy tribes were said to have dwelt), but those are nothing compared to the works of the ants of Corrientes and Paraguay, where whole plains are said to be covered with their buildings of dome-like and conical forms, rising five and six feet and more in height, and formed of a cement hard as a rock, and impervious to the wet. Man's vanity might easily prompt him to mistake them for works of his own kind in miniature; but, all-presumptuous as he is, nothing he has ever yet constructed in all the plenitude of his power is comparable to the works of these little insects. The Pyramids of Egypt do not bear one half the relative proportion to his own size which the ordinary habitations of these ants do to theirs.

Their works under ground are no less extraordinary: Azara has described with his usual minuteness the various species which he fell in with. There is one amongst others which is winged, and the swarms of which are so prodigious, that he says he rode for three leagues continuously through one of them. This was in about the latitude of Santa Fé, where they particularly abound, and where the people catch them and eat them. The hind parts it seems are very fat, and they fry them into a sort of paste or omelette, or, mixed up with sugar, make sweetmeats of them.

They are a sad pest to the agriculturist and a great nuisance when they get inside the houses. At Buenos Ayres they are very troublesome: I tried myself every means in vain to get rid of them; their ingenuity always baffled us; no contrivance could keep anything in the shape of sweetmeats or dried fruits or such things out of their clutches; and as to the quantity of sugar they would carry off in a very short time, it was incredible: we thought to escape them by placing our stores upon tables, the legs of which were surrounded by water, but they threw straws and sticks into the water, and so made themselves bridges to cross by. If we hung them from the ceiling they climbed the walls and descended by the ropes which suspended them. In our garden they committed terrible depredations; and in the summer-season it was always necessary to keep a couple of men constantly employed for the sole purpose of destroying their nests. We observed that they could not exist in the sun; so that, if a basin of sugar were half filled with them, as was constantly the case, by putting it into the sun it was presently cleared of every one of them.

The Jesuit father Guevara, in his account of Paraguay, speaks of a species not noticed by Azara, found about Villa Rica, which deposits upon certain plants small globules of white wax, which the inhabitants collect to make candles of. The utility they are of in this respect, he says, in some measure compensates for the damage they do to the husbandman. Against their depredations, St. Simon and St. Jude, and St. Bonifacio[53], have been by turns elected in due form to be the special guardians and protectors of all good Catholics.

Fortunately, however, in those regions where these insects most abound, an all-wise Providence has also placed a most remarkable animal—formed, as it would appear, expressly for the purpose of destroying them and preventing their overrunning the land—the tamandua, or, as we call it, the ant-bear.

I hardly know any animal which exhibits more striking evidence of design on the part of the Creator: slow and sluggish in all its movements, without power of escape, and apparently without the ordinary means of self-defence, its long trumpet-shaped snout solely formed to contain the singular prehensory organ with which it is furnished for the purpose of taking its diminutive prey, being entirely destitute of anything like the teeth of other animals; it would be speedily exterminated by the beasts of prey which abound where it is found, were it not—as if to compensate for these deficiencies—providentially supplied with strong sharp claws, and such courage and muscular power to use them, as enables it to defy every assailant. When attacked it throws itself upon its back, and in that posture will make so desperate a resistance, that it is a match either for the jaguar or tiger, its fiercest enemies.

The ants are not the worst plagues in these countries: destructive as they are, they are not to be compared with the locusts; though, happily (and indeed were it otherwise, all man's labour would be vain), they are only occasional visitors. When they do come they lay the land utterly desolate.