The Llaneros.
Sterile as the Llanos appear during the dry season, numerous cattle-farms exist, scattered widely over large portions. The Llaneros, as the inhabitants are called—descendants of the white settlers, with an admixture of Indians and blacks—are a hardy, bold race, living almost entirely on horseback, engaged in watching over their herds, and in battling with the spotted jaguar, the savage cayman, the huge boa and anaconda, and occasionally the fierce natives of the surrounding deserts. Often, too, they have to struggle for their lives against the sudden inroads of the vast inundations which sweep off their herds and frail habitations. Armed with their unerring lasso and garrocha, or sharp lance, blunderbuss and sword, they fear no foes. These lances, formed of the tough stem of a small palm, are weapons of no slight importance to them. They are sharpened to a point at one end, and hardened in the fire, or sometimes have an iron head. Round the point a number of loose metal rings are secured, which when shaken produce a loud rattling sound.
See a band of these hardy horsemen in chase of the wild cattle which roam at large over the plains. In bands of six or ten, they form a circle of fifteen miles or so in circumference—bivouacking during the previous night at their respective stations. At early dawn they mount their horses; and now, shouting and shrieking, with their lasso coiled before them on their saddle, and their garrocha in their hand, whirled round and round, they advance, closing in towards the centre of the circle, and driving before them all the animals they meet. The animals, terrified by the cries and whirling spears, dash madly forward,—some endeavouring to break away from the circle, when they are speedily turned back by the sharp goads of the horsemen. Not only the cattle, but wild boars, deer, and other quadrupeds, starting up from the ground where they have been resting, dash on amid the confused herd. And now perhaps several thousand head of cattle are collected within the circle formed by a hundred or more horsemen. If a fierce bull, turning round, ventures to encounter them, they shake their rattling spears in his ears, and quickly again turn him.
When a bull is overtaken, the Llanero thrusts the point of his spear into the animal’s shoulder, and, leaning forward with the whole weight of his body upon the shaft, overthrows the savage creature, who rolls headlong on the plain, where he is quickly secured. Sometimes a fiercer bull than ordinary charges the horsemen, who fly on either side; but wheeling round speedily, with their lassos whirling round their heads, the noose is thrown over the animal’s horns, and the well-trained steeds assisting their riders, he is speedily brought to the ground. A hole being then pierced in the thick cartilage of the nostrils, a thong is passed through it,
the other end being fastened to the horse’s tail. A jerk quickly brings the bull to his feet, and he is led off a captive.
A still bolder manoeuvre is accomplished by the expert horseman. Galloping after the bull, the rider seizes the animal’s tail, giving it a turn round his own wrist, and then again urges forward his horse till both are at full speed, when, suddenly turning in an oblique direction, by a powerful jerk—from the impetuosity imparted by their rapid speed—the bull is brought to the ground. Here, too, the horse, knowing what is about to be done, starts forward at the proper moment, and assists in accomplishing the work. Sometimes the daring Llanero will throw himself from his seat, still holding on to the tail of the bull, and seldom fails ultimately to overthrow it.
The whole scene is one of the wildest confusion. Clouds of dust rise from the dry plain, trampled on by the hoofs of numberless animals. The bulls, driven to fury, tear up the earth, and with deep, savage bellowings rush at their fellows as well as at their foes, unable to distinguish one from the other—often piercing the former with their sharp horns. The uproar is increased by the yells and shouts of the Llaneros galloping in all directions over the ground, rattling their garrochas, waving their ponchos, and whirling their lassos. Yet further to increase the turmoil and uproar, flocks of cranes and herons, startled by the hoofs of the horses and shouts of the riders as they rush onward, rise from the stunted frees of a neighbouring marsh, with loud cries and clashing of wings, into the air, hovering above the heads of the actors in such numbers as almost to darken the sky as they circle round and round.
The object of the hunt is to separate the cattle of the different owners, and to drive them into their respective corrals or majadas. Tame cattle are employed to assist in the operation, and are stationed at various places round the circle. The horsemen, dashing in among the mass of excited animals, fearless of the points of their sharp horns, drive out with their lances those they recognise as their own property—known by the notches on their ears—goading them with their lances. The animals, now separated with wonderful skill, are, with their calves, urged towards the groups of their well-trained kindred, who lead them on towards the destined corral. Often, however, suspecting treachery, they turn round and attempt to escape, rushing with mad fury towards the horsemen—many of whose steeds are thus pierced by their horns, and the riders, overthrown, with difficulty escaping.
Thus they at length reach the entrance of the corral, which is in the shape of a funnel, composed of stout posts strengthened by thick rafters. Here the most desperate struggle often ensues; but the bulls are met by an array of the rattling garrochas; and though some may escape at the last, the great mass are, by the skill of the Llaneros, at length secured within the corral,—many of the cattle receiving desperate wounds.