"THE TACURU."
No. 7.
Friday, April 1st, 1910.
ADVERTISE IN "THE TACURU"—THIS ENSURES YOUR WANTS BEING KNOWN IN EVERY COACH.
We fancy that most of the party were awake to see the dawn this morning: it may have been that they only saw the first streaks of light between the openings of their tent as they lay in bed trying to soothe the itching of the mosquito bites, but we think that few were asleep as the sun rose gloriously from the mists on the horizon. It was a strange sight, the sudden flooding with bright sunlight of that rough camp land, which scarcely owned a tree or shrub. It may be the primitive barbarian lying dormant in all of us though hidden under generations of civilization, which makes us feel a close communion with Nature when we see her in these great uncultivated wastes; but, whatever the causes of the sympathy, these pictures, of wild untouched Nature, leave an impression and a longing more deep than any experience gained in years of civil life; none will ever regret having seen that sunrise on the plain, though all regretted the cause of their wakefulness this morning.
Of course The Chaperon was up and clothed (he always seemed to be) and ready to get basins of water, looking-glasses, shaving materials and all luxuries for the others. The ladies were heard to enquire why he did not bring them early tea and hot water, but, on the whole, he combined the duties of valet and maid fairly efficiently.
Rumour has it that The Chaperon had given instructions that he was to be called by the guard an hour before dawn, so, in the dark, he was awakened by hoarse whispers of his name and gentle shakings. After he arose it occurred to him that it felt more like the middle of the night than the morning, and he enquired of the peon what time it was, the answer coming in soft Spanish, "Can't say, the cocks have not crowed yet!!!" On investigation The Chaperon found it was scarcely 4 a.m., so spent the remaining two hours sitting round the camp fire with the peons, alternately dozing and sucking maté. We believe he heard some expert opinions on the subject of the "roncadors" of the camp during his vigil. At any rate he had full opportunity for proving the reality of Ruskin's words, "There is no solemnity so deep to a right-thinking creature as that of dawn." At the same time he was heard to murmur something to the effect that he would prefer a little less of the "deep solemnity" and a little more of "deep slumber" another morning.
Scarcely were the toilets, and the packing of personal luggage, accomplished, before a request was made that the mosquito nets and beds might be removed for loading, and, as we emerged from the various tents, the breakfast-table greeted us ready laden with tea (from the kettle), sardines, jam, peons' biscuits, etc. True, the only milk procurable was some condensed milk, which had "gone solid," there were not enough knives to go round, and a few other irregularities, but no little items of that sort ever disturbed the temper of The Tacuruers; they simply remarked with the other "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," "Difficulties are Nature's challenges to you," and used one spoon for all their cups, tore off lumps of bread with their fingers (when they could get hold of a loaf), and used the same plate and knife for jam and sardines alike, and enjoyed their early meal.
