THOMAS J. HUTCHINSON.
[Among the skilled horsemen of the earth the gaucho of the plains of Argentina bears pre-eminence. The cow-boy of our Western plains somewhat nearly approaches him, but the cow-boy is only a passing accident, not an institution, like the gaucho, who will still flourish on his native soil when the cow-boy has ceased to be. Hutchinson’s “Buenos Ayres and Argentine Gleanings” gives us a well-limned picture of this interesting individual, to which we owe the following selection.]
I can hardly consider myself presumptuous in believing that few travellers who have made an ascent of the Paraná for the first time have done so with a more agreeable impression of its beauty than I experienced. The only drawback connected with this pleasure is the consciousness of being unable fully to describe it. My readers will, however, be indulgent enough to give me credit for an effort to do my best.
Our water-way in the little steamer “Dolorcitas,” after leaving Buenos Ayres, was through one of the narrow passages that are the boundaries of islets, higher up than, as well as parallel with, the island of Martin Garcia. As we steam along and pass the estancias of wealthy farmers, I observe on the banks hundreds of cows, large troops of horses, and flocks of sheep, in numbers sufficient to puzzle even the calculating Pedder. There are very few wild trees to be seen, except on the highlands an occasional specimen of the Ombu or Algaroba species. The residences are invariably surrounded by groves or shrubberies of peach-trees. The physical aspect of the islands is quite flat, and until we advance a few hundred miles there is no elevation above a few feet close to the river’s side. Now and then—as, for example, when passing through the creek called the “Baradero”—I catch a glimpse of high land, on part of which there is a convent or chapel; but the whole country is uncultivated, except in isolated patches near the compounds of the tillers.
Flocks of wild duck and snipe are seen in abundance; wild turkeys likewise, with occasionally a group of flamingoes, whose scarlet plumage forms a strikingly dazzling object in the bright sunshine. Indeed, birds of various kinds are about us everywhere. Passing through one of these island passages, you see strewing the banks on the mainland side the skeletons of cows and horses, while other poor brutes are lying in the agonies of death; for the mud at the extreme edge of the water is too soft to support them; hence, when they go down to drink, they are swamped in its sponginess, and must therefore remain to die.
Steaming on, we pass or meet several small river-craft engaged in the coasting-trade between Montevideo, Buenos Ayres, and the towns up the river, until we land at an estancia, where cows, horses, and sheep are bred and nurtured: the cows and bullocks chiefly for the hides and meat, disposed of as already described at a saladero; sheep for their wool; while horses are reared for every possible purpose, and are turned to use whether alive or dead.
Horses dead! Their skins are tanned; the grease of the mare’s body is used for light, and for many oleaginous purposes. Close to one of our towns is a rancho or hut belonging to a brick-maker, and there, between his door and the kiln, is an immense pile—as high as an ordinary house—of dead horses, whose bodies are to be used for burning the bricks. Mares’ tongues, preserved, are sold in the market as luxuries; hoofs, skulls, shank, thigh, and other bones of the animal, as well as the hair of the mane and tail, are exported hence to England, America, and other places across the sea in large quantities. At the saladeros, too, they slaughter mares in hundreds for their hides and grease, the operation being conducted by crunching the animal’s skull with a mallet, after it has been brought to the ground by means of a lasso thrown round the feet. One can scarcely travel a mile through the camp without seeing a dead horse somewhere.
Horses alive! At many stations on the river they fish on horseback, by riding into a considerable depth of water and throwing a peculiar kind of net, which is drawn back to the shore by the horse. Our letters are delivered at the door by a rat-tat in regular English style from the postman, who is on horseback. The daily journal is brought to us by a cavalier, who hands it in without dismounting; even a beggar-man rides up every Saturday to solicit Una limosna por el amor de Dios, and he has a license from the police in the shape of a piece of branded wood suspended round his neck. The aristocracy of beggary is evident in this fellow, too; for on one occasion, being offered cold meat and bread by my servant, he rode off, indignantly saying he wanted money to buy cigarritos.
Horses making bricks! Ay, incredible as it may appear, there are the very animals which dragged the dead bodies of their brethren to be made fuel of at the brick-kilns before mentioned, now driven round and round in a circus, tramping into malleable mud clay and water mixed together, and doing everything in the brick-making except the moulding.
Horses threshing corn! Here at our friend’s estancia I see another large circus, styled a hera, in which are placed several sheaves of wheat, and into this are turned fifteen to twenty horses; a mounted man goes in also, and drives these animals with whip and yell round the circus until all the corn is threshed by their tramping.