CHAPTER IV.
VISIT TO THE TIGRE AND BANDA ORIENTAL.
The steamer in which I expected to embark for Rosario, on the Paraná River, would not sail from Buenos Ayres for ten days or a fortnight, and I began to look around me for some occupation, by means of which I might become more acquainted with the localities about the city. I was eager to visit the gaucho in his home upon the pampas; and when a young man, who had just arrived from New York, invited me to accompany him across the Plata to the Republic of Uruguay, I did not wait for a second invitation, but accepted his offer upon the spot.
I knew nothing more of this young man than that he had come to Buenos Ayres recommended to the first merchant of the place; but that his purpose for the visit was a secret one, I did not at the time suspect. He prepared himself for the journey by simply providing himself with a large blanket, a revolver pistol, and a sounding-rod. The first two articles seemed rational enough; but the rod, which he carried as a cane, required an explanation.
We received from a countryman a letter of introduction to Edward Hopkins, Esq., who was about to sail in the “Asuncion” for the north side of the river. This gentleman was at the River Tigre, twenty-one miles from Buenos Ayres, and acted as agent for the United States and Paraguay Navigation Company. As there was no other way for crossing the Plata to the particular part of the coast where my friend wished to land, he decided to visit the Tigre, and embark in the Asuncion.
Having bargained for seats with the driver of the diligence that ran between Buenos Ayres and the village of San Fernando, near the Tigre, we set out one fine morning, accompanied by a native gentleman, who spoke English imperfectly.
Our cochero was a conceited fellow, and felt the dignity of office to an unnecessary degree. We had no little amusement during our journey with him in watching the phases of his character: once, when the cart of a milkman became entangled in the harness of our horses, he became so laughable in his wounded pride and impotent rage, that we had difficulty in restraining our faces to a decently sober appearance. As we became disentangled, and drove on, he, in the midst of a volley of carrambas, denounced all cartmen who had the impudence to cross the track of the mail-coach. And such, in fact, his vehicle was; but, as we noticed that the contents of the mail, instead of being confined in a mail-bag, or other suitable receptacle, were scattered here and there in various corners of the coach, some tucked beneath the cushions, and others lying under our feet, the opinion that we formed of the native postal arrangements was not of the highest.
For nearly a league we passed over a Macadamized road, shaded here and there by willows that ran along the river. We soon passed the deserted quinta of General Rosas. The house was built upon arches, the materials being brick and plaster. Around it were artificial groves, and little lakes and canals of water.
To the right of the house, on the side nearest the city, were numerous little brick buildings, where the tyrant quartered his troops. The situation was very beautiful, and the surroundings altogether were interesting.
Farther on were casas (houses) of country gentlemen, with orchards of peach, olive, and quince, which, with the foliage of many varieties of shrubs, made the prospect on all sides most beautiful.
If a well-regulated estate particularly attracted our attention, we universally found, on inquiry, that its owner was a foreigner, whom the cochero dignified by the low word gringo, which is equivalent to “paddy” in our own language; and in this estimation, I afterwards found, our countrymen and all strangers are held by the indolent and treacherous country people.
Wheat, potatoes, onions, beans, tomatoes, &c., thrive wonderfully upon the farms; and, if the whole agricultural department were in foreign hands, the country, with its fine climate, and rich and easily-worked lands, could produce almost every kind of vegetable. With the exception of a few English and Scotch, the French from the Basque provinces are the most energetic and thrifty farmers. In a few instances the Yankee plough has been used with great success, in place of the miserable wooden one of the natives.
We met large covered wagons carrying produce to the city, and troops of mules and donkeys freighted with thistles, in bundles, to heat the ovens of the bakers; also others with peach and willow trees, which had been raised for firewood, an article bringing a good price, on account of its scarcity.
As we approached the Tigre and Las Conchas, we found that the country is undulating; but beyond the line of the latter, it stretches out into the pampas as far as the vision can reach.
The diligence entered San Fernando about noon; we found it a little town, surrounded with fruit trees left to the care of nature, the people being satisfied with her products without wasting time in laboring to improve them.
Two miles distant was the River Tigre, which empties its waters into the wide Plata; towards the river we directed our steps, and we arrived in time to dine with Edward Hopkins, Esq., the gentleman whom we had come to visit.
Mr. Hopkins, who has acted as our consul in Paraguay, and as agent for the United States and Paraguay Navigation Company, invited us aboard the little steamer Asuncion, which had been put together at this place a short time before.
This company had been formed in the United States for the purpose of opening commercial intercourse with Paraguay, a country that had, under the dictator Francia, excluded foreigners. Lopez, its present ruler, had been on very intimate terms with our countryman, Mr. H.; and, taking advantage of this intimacy, and the president’s friendly feeling towards the United States, the above company was formed; and it soon sent out from Providence, R. I., a clipper schooner of beautiful mould, containing, in pieces, a small steamer and “hoop boat,” with their appropriate crews, carpenters, millwrights, &c.
The schooner was damaged in the Tigre; but her cargo was landed, and the Asuncion put together, and sent up the Paraná to Paraguay. A cigar manufactory, employing three hundred native girls, was set on foot, a colony formed, and the steamer was to run between that country and Buenos Ayres, when an event occurred that blasted the prospects of the North Americans. A brother of Mr. Hopkins was stopped in the street for some trivial cause (probably galloping his horse) by a vigilante, whose language was insulting, whereupon difficulty ensued. As representative of his government, Mr. Hopkins interfered; and then followed the expulsion of our countrymen from the unexplored and little-known Paraguay. The United States steamer Water Witch, then lying in the Plata, ascended the river, and was fired upon from a fortification; several balls lodged in her hull, and one man was killed. The Water Witch destroyed the structure, and retired down the river to Montevideo, while the company’s men settled at the Tigre until matters could be adjusted. The Asuncion was then engaged in carrying sheep across to the Banda Oriental, the country on the north shores of the Plata, which is known on some maps as Uruguay.
San Fernando, in conjunction with the Tigre, is the watering-place of the ton of Buenos Ayres, many of whom pass the summer in the village. The next day after our arrival was passed in pleasant conversation with our countryman, and during the evening a large party of ladies and gentlemen sailed down the river to two islands covered with groves of peach trees, where they took maté (tea), and danced La Samba Cueca, to the music of the guitar. I did not accompany them; for, having met a young man whose desire for travel had caused him to leave home, we passed the night wandering among the willows on the banks of the stream, and at an early hour on the following morning retired to rest as the piano frog was chanting his reveillé.
This was a spot where the naturalist would love to dwell. Above our heads sang many curious birds, and around us were still more curious insects.
On the neighboring church of Las Conchas, the carpentero built its oven-like nest, and parrots filled the air with their cries, while the mocking-bird rattled out his medley as in our own country.
As strangers, we were cordially received by the natives who occupied the houses close at hand, and many were the matés (cups of Paraguay tea) we took, because the pretty señoritas informed us that their language and maté were inseparable, and not until the foreigner became addicted to its use could he ride a horse, throw the lasso, learn the language, or win a fair maid.
I have already alluded to the yerba, sometimes called yerba maté, from which the Paraguay tea is made.
It is to South America what the tea of China is to Europe and the United States; nor are its qualities very greatly different from those of the Asiatic herb.
The yerba trees grow in forests, called yerbales, on the rivers of Paraguay, and attain a considerable size.
At the time of gathering, a party of peons are sent into the forest, who collect the branches, sprigs, and leaves in vast piles, which are afterwards thoroughly scorched. This being accomplished, the leaves and twigs are packed in a raw hide, which contracts as it dries, compressing the yerba into an almost solid mass. In this condition it is sent to market.
The maté is a small gourd, which forms the general drinking-cup in all the regions which I visited. An infusion of the yerba having been made, with accessories, as in our own country, it is sucked from the maté through a tin or silver tube, called the bombilla, which is provided at its lower extremity with a strainer, which prevents the fine particles of the yerba from rising to the mouth. The name of the gourd or cup is not unfrequently coupled with that of the tea itself in mentioning the article.
At last everything was ready for our departure; and at eleven o’clock one starlight night we sailed slowly along the little Tigre, and, passing the peach islands at its mouth, in an hour after, were fairly on our passage across the Plata, which at this point is nearly thirty miles wide. Upon arriving off the San Juan River, early the next morning, the tide was out, and the bar at the mouth of the stream impassable, which obliged us to remain stationary until afternoon, when the rising tide permitted us to wind up the stream, and through luxuriant foliage, the home of the tiger-cat, and once the lair of the fierce jaguar, which is now, however, rarely met with, having been driven from his ancient hunting-grounds by parties of natives who had been exasperated by his continual depredations. Now the little tiger-cat and wild dogs are their tormentors and annually a tiger hunt comes off at the mouth of the river.
We arrived at our destination in due time, and the cargo of sheep was safely landed. Preparations for the night had hardly been completed, when from a certain quarter were heard loud and prolonged sounds, so wild and fearful that our attention was directed towards it.
“It is the voices of wild animals scenting the sheep-fold,” said one of our party. The shepherd dogs on the borders of the stream pricked up their ears, and the hair stood up stiffly upon their backs as they walked around the sleeping flock, growling savagely.
While we listened, the sounds grew more and more distinct, and shortly we were upon our feet to repel an attack from a pack of wild dogs. Perceiving that we were too strong to be molested with impunity, they withdrew, snapping and growling, for a short distance, where they continued their music for two or three hours, and then drew off to another estancia.
These animals hunt in packs, and though of a cowardly nature, will, when fierce with hunger, attack man. The following incident, which occurred a few days prior to our arrival, proves this often-contested fact.
A capataz (foreman) of an estancia (farm), while returning from a distant village to his home, met a pack of these dogs. The instinct of the brutes told them that the tired horse could not outstrip them in the long run. They gave chase, and soon brought the horse and rider to the ground. The capataz had no other weapon than his knife, which proved ineffectual for his defence, and both man and horse were torn to pieces and devoured.
On the day after our arrival we saw at the estancia house three of these dogs, which had been taken from caves near the River San Juan. The largest was about a year old; although he associated with the house dogs, he would not suffer any person to approach him, and exhibited all the traits of his wild brethren that serenaded him almost every night. The two others were only a few weeks old, and were as playful as kittens.
These wild dogs are of a slight frame, and are generally of a brown and yellow color; the mouths are of a dusky-brown, or black. Without doubt they descended from the domestic dogs brought into the country by the Spanish or Portuguese Jesuits during the period of the early settlement of the La Plata provinces.
Early upon the following morning, the gauchos pointed out the path that led to the estancia house, and my friend Ned and myself set out to visit it. Larks, partridges, and many other birds started from the grass as we pursued our way on foot. All these birds were exceedingly tame; and had we been in possession of a gun, we should have arrived at the house with a bag of game.
The farm was owned by a German, who gave us a cordial welcome, and insisted upon our remaining to breakfast.
The estate was a small one for that country, embracing but ten or twelve square miles. The owner purchased it of the last tenant, who sold for a fair price, but, when he received the money, declared that the German must pay him extra for the buildings. The new owner, having, as he supposed, paid for “top and bottom,” refused to give an additional sum; but the native was inexorable, and the buyer, knowing that a foreigner receives no justice from South American tribunals, wisely settled the affair, after much loss of time and money, by paying the full demand. Almost every bargain that is consummated between a foreigner and a native results largely in favor of the latter party. By bribery, falsehood, or perjury,—he cares but little which,—the native will outwit the “gringo,” and then, in a most barefaced manner, tell him that it is by superior wit and talent that the end is thus brought in favor of a Christian; for so all true Catholics of both republics, the Banda Oriental and Argentine, are called, or call themselves, with no little egotism.
After partaking of a nourishing meal,—farina, soup, and meat,—Ned strapped his bundle to his back, carefully loaded his revolver, and, after several studied inquiries as to certain locations along the coast of the Plata, bade me to prepare to follow him. Our new friends offered us horses, saddles, &c.; but Ned had a particular reason for travelling on foot, and so, bidding our German friends adieu, we posted off in a westerly direction. Our landmark was the mud hut of an estancia, about seven miles distant, situated on a swell of the prairie. About the estancia we were leaving were several high hills, which sloped off into the rolling plain. A portion of these hills were barren, and broken rocks cropped out at their bases; but the plains or rolling ground about them, upon which the cattle fed, was covered with fine grass, occasionally intermixed with flowers. Just beyond the house, at the base of one of the hills, we descried a shepherd sitting upon the rocks, apparently watching his flock, that fed upon the plain; but a closer scrutiny proved that he was fast in the delights of a siesta. Puffs of wind that came around the hills flaunted his chiropá and poncho in a wild manner, which, together with his long beard, gave him the appearance of an old gypsy.
“Now we are clear of all eaves-droppers,” said my friend, “and as we go along, I will tell you what strange circumstances brought me here, and why I left a good home and profitable business to wander mysteriously on this side of the Plata. I am sometimes visionary. My friends say so, and I believe it to be so; but the cause that tempted me to leave a wife and child was not so visionary as some of my friends have declared, and I mean to prove to them their error by returning to New York, in one year’s time, a rich man. I can prove by history that a small vessel, sailed by Spanish pirates, went ashore upon this coast, not twenty, or at the most fifty, miles from the spot that we are now upon. She had a large amount of money on board, which was taken ashore, and buried not far from the wreck: two or three trees mark the spot; they are old now, but are probably still standing. If they are not standing, I have still another landmark to tell me where the treasure lies.
“The first fact which I stated is supported by history; that portion regarding the treasure is known only to me. The man who imparted the secret was an invalid for many years past, and, therefore, unable to come for the treasure himself. He confided it to me upon his death-bed, in New York city, about a year since. We had been intimate for years, and could rely on each other. Why he kept the secret from me for such a length of time, I cannot surmise, unless it was because he hoped to recover, and come for it himself. He died poor, and his words to me were of this import: ‘Go to the Plata, and after coming into possession of this hidden wealth, return with it to New York, give to my widow three quarters, and keep the other fourth for yourself.’
“I have now only to seek out certain localities; when these are found I shall know just where to sink my rod, and I am certain of success. The reason that I have imparted a portion of this secret to you is, that I must have some person to assist me in taking the treasure to some vessel in the outer roads of Buenos Ayres. As soon as we have ascertained that all is right, I shall despatch you to the Tigre to purchase a boat, and as you have been long enough on board ship to ‘know the ropes,’ you will not deem it too great a risk to watch for a fair wind, and navigate the craft across the river. We will then load up, and steer some fine night, with the tide in our favor, for the Mary II., that lies off the city. The captain will not be there; but the mate is a confidential friend, and we will get our things on board without any trouble from the Custom House officers.
“When I tell you that I have sold out a profitable business, and expect to spend at least fifteen hundred dollars in this enterprise, you will credit me with sanguine hopes, and conclude that I must have strong and good reasons for risking myself and the support of my family in such a romantic undertaking.”
I had before this heard of the Rio Plata gold hunters; but what could I do? Advise my friend to go home to his wife, of whom he often spoke in terms of strong affection, or assist him in his labors, and follow after the ignis fatuus that had lured him from friends and domestic pleasures? I answered him after this wise. “Ned,” said I, “I shall offer no opinion regarding this gold hunt, nor discourage you from an undertaking for the success of which you confess you have embarrassed yourself and purse; but I also have a mission to perform. I came to this country with the intention of crossing the pampas to Mendoza, from which town I mean to cross the Andes to Valparaiso, Chili. From the latest and best authority I have learned that the mountains will be impassable after the first week in May, and as it is now late in the season to insure a safe journey to Valparaiso, it will be necessary for me to leave Buenos Ayres in the next steamer, which will be ready to sail in a few days. Until the sailing day I will devote my time to your plans, but no longer.”
Though Ned spoke with enthusiasm, and promised the reward of one thousand dollars in case of success, I remained obstinate, and debate was dropped.
As we trudged on our journey, various birds and animals were at times seen by us. Once two small deer approached us, and acted as if influenced by great curiosity, and again, a tall ostrich started out of the grass, and, raising her plumed wings, ran off at the top of her speed.
Having reached the estancia house,—our landmark already referred to,—we halted to ask for water. The little that the family had was in an old barrel; by the side of it was a cow’s dirty horn, out of which we drank. We continued our journey to the next stopping-place, five miles beyond. This was a small hut surrounded by corrals, the whole serving as an outpost to a large estancia. The occupants were a lazy gaucho and his negress wife, who invited us in, and offered maté; but as our object was to find some suitable shelter for the night, we did not remain long, but pushed on towards the River Las Vacas. Darkness coming on, we hurried to several mud huts that loomed up in the distance. Upon arriving at them, we found a young gaucho, who led us into a room where a powerful-built, supercilious-looking personage was sitting. Glancing at us carelessly, he asked us several questions; but being ignorant of the language, we could only make use of the “Spanish Teacher” that my friend had brought with him: we could not discover whether he understood our requests or desires. He treated us in a very distant manner, calling a gaucho, and ordering us off to a low, mud hut, where a woman was cooking a strip of meat by a small fire.
The interior of the hut was filthy in the extreme, the broken walls covered with vermin, and the whole dwelling filled with blinding smoke. Shortly after our entrance, several gauchos came in, and conversed together in low tones.
After a few minutes they approached us, who were seated upon a log, and addressed numerous inquiries to my companion. Ned, with the utmost simplicity, opened his “Teacher,” and pointed out several sentences. The fellows at first looked at the book, and turned over several leaves with a puzzled air, then, breaking out in a loud laugh, threw it back into his lap. Soon one dark-visaged gaucho drew his knife, and commenced slashing it above the head of my companion, seeming undecided, however, to strike him.
At this manifestation of mischief, our hands grasped our Colt’s revolvers; and if the knife had touched either of our bodies, we should have drawn our weapons and shot down our assailants. “If they strike us, shoot all except the old hag, who can do nothing more than give the alarm, and take to your heels,” muttered my companion.
We sat thus for half an hour, during which time the gauchos made several attempts to strike at our legs, but did not succeed. They were at length called away by the old woman, who offered them their supper. We at last asked them by signs for a bed; they pointed to a pile of dried skins that lay heaped up in one corner of the hut. At this the indignation of my friend could hardly be kept within bounds. Having been accustomed to all the comforts that the great metropolis of our country could furnish, he determined no longer to suffer the inhospitable treatment of gauchos. Telling me to follow him, he moved towards the door of the shanty, which was nothing more than a large hide, swinging to and fro in the entrance.
But the gauchos would not allow us to leave; and after a vain attempt at arguing the matter, we were at last obliged to stretch ourselves upon the hides, and lying side by side, kept watch in turn, with pistols in hand, through the long and uncomfortable night. When I say uncomfortable, I mean the whole strength of the word, for the hides were alive with vermin, and their passage over our bodies and its attendant irritation, half crazed us both. But the longest night has an end. An hour before daylight the gauchos arose from the ground, which had been their bed, and lassoing their horses in the corral, galloped off to different parts of the estancia.
As soon as we saw that the disagreeable fellows were certainly gone, we arose and hurried away from the hut. The woman followed, and begged us to come back and eat meat; but we were only too willing to leave without a breakfast. We learned, some days later, from an Englishman, that the owner of this estancia, whose name was Moreno, belonged to a family of the most villanous character.
During the revolutions, and while the country was in the midst of civil war, an elder brother of this Moreno became a general, and perpetrated the most horrid deeds of cruelty. With a band of soldiers he traversed that portion of the country, cutting out the tongues of hundreds of cattle, and leaving the animals to become the prey of the wild beasts and birds. He visited a great number of estancias, and slaughtering the owners, male and female, placed in their stead his own submissive tools.
At the close of the war, justice cried out against him, and the villain fled the country, leaving a part of his ill-gotten possessions in the hands of his brother.
Four or live miles beyond Moreno’s, we passed a white-washed casa (house) belonging to another man equally bad with our late host.
We now entered a thinly-wooded country, with thorn trees and cacti, in which large flocks of palomas—a species of turtle dove resembling our own species—were abundant. Just before reaching the River Las Vacas we came upon a hut of cornstalks, out of which, to our surprise, walked an unmistakable son of Erin. He commenced at once with, “Sure, and is it yerselves that’s afoot? Where be your hosses? Walk into the house and be seated.”
Hurrying into the house, he commenced an onslaught upon a lot of fowls and two or three dogs, driving them out: we entered with him. He was a perfect specimen of the “Irish-born citizen.” He had originally come to the country as cook to an English bark. He had much to say about the travels and dangers that he had gone through. Speaking of the conduct of Great Britain in meddling with the affairs of the Banda Oriental, he expressed his dissatisfaction in the most forcible language.
“The English and Frinch intervinshun,” said he, “kilt me, as it did all the furriners. Before it I owned two thousand head of cattle and hosses, and had plinty of land, and was comfortable. I had a wife, though I didn’t have time to get married to the crathur; and lucky was I that I hadn’t, for she run off wid me money and half of me property. I hears that the Turks are fighting the queen, and are like to succeed. God bless them if they do. I hope she may be taken.”
We left him as soon as possible, and pushed on to the River Las Vacas, which we soon reached, and crossed in a boat. We remained two days in the little town on its banks, during which time Ned made many inquiries for certain localities, but without success. Finding that nothing could be learned here, we hired horses, and set out on our return to the San Juan River, following along the coast of the Plata. Every few minutes would Ned halt and repeat the three Spanish words that he had studied for many weeks, and could now pronounce correctly. Turning to our guide, an old lame gaucho, he would say, half inquiringly, “Los Tres Hermanos?” but at each time the old man shook his head.
At last we came upon a high bluff, and the gaucho, halting, pointed with his finger to two small islands, green with heavy foliage that fringed their shores, and exclaimed, “Los Dos Hermanos!” But those were not the islands that Ned was seeking. “Los Dos Hermanos,” or “The Two Brothers,” were islands of greater size than those which my friend sought.
“Los Tres Hermanos” or “The Three Brothers,” had been described to him by the dying man as “three small pointed rocks;” but Ned could not find these. He had consulted every chart that he could procure, but not one had the three rocks upon it. Could it be that “The Two Brothers” had been confounded with some other islets?
But I will not dwell upon our unsuccessful search. Suffice it to say that we both returned to the Tigre in the same steamer that had brought us across the Plata. I left Ned busily at work upon a small boat, in which, when finished, he intended to cross the river, and, disguised as a roving naturalist, to skirt along the river coast in search of “Los Tres Hermanos.” When I parted from him, he said, gayly, “Good by, my friend. You have yet to travel a long road before you reach North America. I shall be there some months before you.”
After returning to the United States, I wrote to New York, as he had requested; but some time elapsed before an answer came, and then my worst fears were realized. Disappointed in his search for gold, he had accepted the first offer for employment that presented itself, and had become the mate of the little steamer that carried us across the river when he first embarked in his romantic speculation.
During the passage of the steamer to the upper Paraná, he fell overboard one night, and was carried into the rapids of the river and drowned.