The Rio de la Plata, the “river of silver,” is one of the great river systems of the world. That name is properly applied only to the month of the system, which reaches just a little above the city of Buenos Aires, a distance of a couple of hundred miles from the Atlantic. From there it receives the name of the Paraná, which has its source in the wilds of Brazil. Where it pours its waters into the ocean this wonderful river is one hundred and eighty miles in width, and at Montevideo it has narrowed down to sixty-five miles. Opposite Buenos Aires it is still twenty-eight miles from shore to shore. The La Plata, as it is generally called, discharges the water from a basin much larger than the Mississippi, and the volume of water brought down by it is said to be exceeded only by the Amazon. It drains the greater part of the fertile pampas, reaches up into the coffee lands of Brazil, and carries[75] down to the Atlantic the melted snows of the loftiest peaks of the Andes. The basin is in the shape of an immense horseshoe, and includes, besides the two above counties, all of Paraguay and parts of Bolivia and Uruguay. The Uruguay River, which flows into the La Plata almost opposite Buenos Aires, is one thousand miles long and is navigable for several hundred miles, the Paraná for almost two thousand miles, and the Paraguay, from its junction with the latter stream, floats boats of shallow draft for fifteen hundred miles farther. Altogether these various streams furnish thousands of miles of navigable waters on which regular communication is furnished by large and commodious steamers. Nicolas Mihanovitch is the undisputed king of this river traffic, and dozens of vessels plying on these rivers bear the white letter M. with a black background on the funnel. They furnish a nightly service between Montevideo and Buenos Aires, and weekly or semi-weekly service up the Paraná and Uruguay Rivers.
Vessels drawing sixteen feet of water can proceed as far as Rosario, but ocean-going steamers seldom ascend any farther, as the water becomes shallower beyond that city.[76] Boats of twelve feet draught can proceed as far as Asuncion, the capital of Paraguay, eight hundred miles farther inland. The waters carry much mud, and the channel sometimes changes its course by the formation of mud banks. Hundreds of islands have formed, some of which probably started from a submerged tree, about which the sediment was deposited. In truth the Paraná plays with islands and sand banks as a lesser stream does with pebbles. A recent scientific writer has given some interesting facts concerning its eccentricities. Says he: “A schooner which sank nine years ago off La Paz swiftly developed at its tail an island a mile long, now crowned by willows. My photograph of the old port of Paraná town in 1902 shows an island eight hundred and eighty yards long by four hundred and ninety feet wide fronting it; in December, 1907, only one hundred and sixty feet of the island remained. Thirty years ago a market gardener made a shallow ditch cut-off opposite Ibicuy River (Lower Paraná), to take his produce down the river. The Paraná elected to take his work in hand, and now ocean steamers pass through this channel on their way down from Rosario.”
[77]
In the rainy season the Paraná spreads out for dozens of miles over the level land and forms an inland sea so wide that the banks are almost invisible. This flood season lasts for three months in the year, generally from March to June. At this season the Paraguay pours a mass of water twenty miles wide and twenty feet deep into the Paraná. Added to this is the water of the Alta Paraná, and the Lower Paraná then spreads itself out over the low lands of the western bank.
“Shallow, disreputable, vast,
It sprawls across the western plains,”
to use the words of Kipling. Because of the slight fall it takes three weeks for the flood waters to flow from Asuncion, a thousand miles upstream but only two hundred and three feet above sea level, to Buenos Aires. It is estimated that this river brings down a cubic mile of soil in twenty-two years. This soil is deposited on the western shore of the La Plata, and, were it not for the work of man, would soon convert Buenos Aires into a landlocked harbour. As it is, the dredging charges entailed by this yearly increasing mass of deposit are very large.
[78]
In places the banks of the Paraná are lined with reeds and willows, but farther up the trees become larger, and there is a forest growth. In one place may be seen gigantic reeds twenty feet high, then a solitary palm tree with a crest of fan-like leaves, and again a dense forest of various growths may crown the bank. Gnarled trees with clusters of beautiful crimson flowers occasionally add a contrast of colouring. Masses of weeds and grass are continually floating by. One cannot help but think of the voyage of Sebastian Cabot up this unexplored stream, in 1526. In a small vessel of only a few hundred tons he ploughed through these waters, avoided destruction on the islands, and ascended to a point above the site of Asuncion. He was months in accomplishing that voyage, which is now made twice a week in five days. It is not a hard trip, except that the scenery becomes rather monotonous. Otherwise the accommodation is quite good, the fare is cheap, and, as a rule, the cabins are comfortable and are kept very clean.
By steamer it is nearly three hundred miles from Buenos Aires to Rosario, the second city in the republic, and takes just about a whole day. The great delta of the Paraná, just above[79] the metropolis, is very interesting, for it is studded with numerous islands. There are several ports on the left bank where large frigorificos, meat-freezing plants, are located, where vessels may be seen at the docks at all times waiting for their loads of beef and mutton. The largest of these is at Campa?a, only fifty-one miles from Buenos Aires, where the River Plate Meat Co. has its freezing works. At Zarate is the freezing plant of the Las Palmas Produce Co., and at San Nicolas is another large frigorifico. At last Rosario, which used to be an unimportant place, is reached, but that designation would not answer for the hustling city of to-day.
Soon after leaving Rosario the river passes through the rich wheat belt, with the province of Entre Rios on one side of the bank and Santa Fé on the other. For a distance the banks of the Paraná are quite high on one side, but they gradually become lower. At length the town of Paraná, a city of twenty-five thousand inhabitants, and the capital of the province of Entre Rios, is reached. It is the distributing point for quite a large section of country and a shipping port for the products as well.
[80]
Opposite Paraná is the city of Santa Fé, capital of the province of the same name, which is of about the same importance as its rival on the other side of the river. The river leads up past La Paz and Esquma, at which latter place the province of Corrientes is entered. The city of Corrientes contains a population of about twenty thousand, and is a distributing and shipping point for that province. It is not a pretty city at all and has nothing to distinguish it. Here a change must be made to boats of lighter draught, for there are rapids between this city and Posadas that will not permit a draught of more than three feet in the dry season. It is only about twenty miles to the junction of the Paraguay River, and is two hundred and twenty-five miles from Corrientes to Posadas, the capital of the territory of Misiones. It is the collecting depot for the up-river trade above this point, and is a thriving little city of about six thousand inhabitants.
The Paraná becomes grander and more picturesque the farther up one ascends it. Its quiet picturesqueness grows upon the traveller. It is hemmed in between the hills of Paraguay, on one side, and those of Misiones on the other. Its width, hitherto anywhere from two to five[81] miles, suddenly shrinks to two-thirds of a mile, and its depth increases. The well-wooded ranges of hills slope to a current running five knots an hour. A graceful line of waving bamboo marks the mean height of the river and is only broken by the many streams which come tumbling down. You are travelling toward the equator, and the vegetation changes. The trees become still larger, and the grass is more luxuriant. Many varieties of palms make their appearance. A thousand miles from Rosario is the junction with the Iguassú River, and a few miles from its mouth are the famous falls of the same name. They are on the boundary line between Brazil and Argentina, and only a few miles away from the border of Paraguay. At some imaginary point on the broad Paraná, in the midst of these vast solitudes, these three republics meet.
The Falls of the Iguassú, which here lie half concealed by the crowding forests, are a worthy rival of Niagara. The scenery surrounding is, in its lone loveliness, in harmony with the solemn grandeur of the cataract. The roar of the waterfall is all the more impressive because of the solitude that reigns in these primeval forests. These falls cover a wide area, as they[82] are nearly two miles in length. They are so great that they must be viewed from several points before their full magnitude dawns upon the traveller. They plunge out of the hidden recesses of the forest in many places, for numerous islands have been formed which are now densely wooded. Nature here seems to have revelled in perfect abandon in producing this wonderful spectacle. It is like another Niagara set out in the midst of a wilderness, where the hand of man has done nothing to add to or detract from what nature has here prepared for the delectation of mankind.
The falls may be divided into two sections, the Argentine and Brazilian cascades. The Iguassú River is very wide just above the falls where it takes a very sharp turn prior to making the first plunge. It makes a series of three leaps, the last being a drop exceeding two hundred feet. The unequal erosion of the rock has given the falls a horseshoe shape very similar to Niagara. Below the falls the water passes through a narrow gorge where the depth is so great that a hundred fathom line has failed to sound it. The natives call it bottomless. In 1905, during an unusually severe rainy season, the water rose so high here, because of[83] the narrowness of the gorge, that for five days it was backed up to the total height of the lowest falls, two hundred and ten feet.
Ascending the Alta Paraná, another one hundred and twenty-five miles, one reaches the smoking cataracts of La Guayra. So scored are the river’s banks on either side by cascade and torrents that it might be called “waterfall land.” The Falls of La Guayra are another series of mighty cascades on the border between Paraguay and Brazil. Above the falls is a great lake all of the waters of which must pass over these precipices and through a narrow gorge. At one point it is only two hundred feet from cliff to cliff. The current piles up in the centre with a corkscrew motion which forms a maelstrom, with which the famous Whirlpool Rapids are a quiet pool. The total plunge of these falls is three hundred and ten feet. Above the La Guayra the Alta Paraná widens out and the hills retreat. At a distance of four hundred miles, or a total distance of one thousand six hundred and forty miles from Buenos Aires, are the Uberaponga Falls, another frantic water power awaiting the harnessing by man. One can follow this stream on up to its source in a flat, swampy section,[84] which is also the source of one of the principal affluents of the Amazon. It drains a very large section of Brazil, for, because of the range of mountains which follows the coast line in Brazil, water falling within a few miles of the Atlantic turns its back on the blue waters of the ocean and journeys from fifteen hundred to two thousand miles before entering salt water by means of the La Plata.
The route up the Uruguay River is much more picturesque than that up the Paraná. This majestic stream is about six miles wide at its junction with the latter river. It is somewhat less obstructed by islands here, so that both banks can usually be seen. And yet this great stream has moods, as well as other rivers. The current in its main channel will oftentimes change. It will encroach here and recede there, submerge an island in one place and form a new one in another. After a long drouth navigation must be conducted with caution, but the normal depth is generally sufficient for all purposes. During times of flood all kinds of strange small animals and vegetation are brought down by the Uruguay. The water is decidedly clay coloured. On one side is the flat Argentine plain, and on the other the undulating[85] shores of Uruguay, for this river is the international boundary line between these two republics. Small topsail schooners may be seen coming down the river loaded with timber or fruit, and bound either for Montevideo or Buenos Aires. Farther up the stream contracts and one gets a more intimate acquaintance with the country. The banks shrink back and reveal a glimpse of flowering shrubs, willow trees, and an occasional palm. A stretch of bright, sandy beach may occasionally unfold itself. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish shore from island. Buoys mark the channel, which is very much zigzag. The sunsets on these broad waters and flat pampas are really wonderful. They paint the clouds in every colour and shade of rosy pink and brilliant red, and the waters become of a bluish hue. The cliffs on the Uruguay side are tinted in many colours, while the Argentine bank is nothing but a straight, black line.
The boats stop on either side. One hundred and thirty miles from Buenos Aires, and on the Uruguay side, is the town of Fray Bentos, where the great Liebig’s Extract Factory is located. On the opposite side and a little further up is Concepcion del Uruguay, which is[86] an interesting little town. The busiest and most important town of Argentina on the Uruguay River is Concordia, two hundred and seventy miles from the metropolis. It is a town of perhaps fifteen thousand inhabitants, and has railway communication as well. Because of a falls and rapids at this point the large river steamers cannot proceed beyond Concordia, although light draught boats can ascend considerably farther.
Between the Paraná and Uruguay Rivers lie the two goodly-sized provinces of Entre Rios and Corrientes, and the territory of Misiones. The two provinces are each about the size of Indiana, and are rich in agricultural lands. Wheat was first successfully cultivated in Entre Rios, and these provinces still produce large quantities of grain as well as much stock. Each one has a population of about a third of a million and it is increasing each year. A number of colonies have been established there which have been quite successful. Corrientes contains several swampy lakes which cover many hundreds of square miles. A part of the year the greater part of these lakes is dry and then furnishes excellent pasturage. Their worst feature is that they are the breeding[87] places of the tick and other pests to stock. A good system of drainage might make these lands invaluable. It also possesses one large body of water, called Lake Ibera.
Misiones is a little larger than Massachusetts, and has a population not exceeding thirty-five thousand. Its lands are fertile, but the climate is more tropical and it has not been developed so rapidly as the other sections of the country. It is the only province in Argentina that shares the tropical conditions of Southern Brazil. The name was derived from its settlement by the Jesuits after they were expelled from Brazil. For a time their colonies were very prosperous and thousands of Indians were gathered together at Apostoles, Santa Ana and San Ignacio. The work was all done by the Indians under the direction of the priests. The ruins of San Ignacio, which was established in the sixteenth century, and which can still be traced in the forest growth, show the solidity with which the place was built. Many ruins of the houses can still be seen, each one with a niche in which was placed the statue of a saint. New settlements of Russians and Poles have recently been established in this territory which give promise of success. There[88] is much rich virgin land awaiting development in forest-covered Misiones. Yerba maté, tobacco, mandioca and sugar-cane grow in great abundance.
Proceeding up the Paraguay River from its junction with the Alta Paraná it is about two hundred miles to Asuncion. The river twists around over its wide bed in a very capricious manner, and in flood times spreads over thousands of square miles of the llanos, or plains. One can travel several hundred miles farther by small steamers up into the great state of Matto Grosso, Brazil, which is twice as large as Texas, and perhaps of equal fertility. The unoccupied grazing lands of that state will, some day, support millions of cattle that will be demanded by earth’s teeming millions.
Flowing into the Paraguay River from the west in Argentina are two rivers, the Bermejo and Pilcomayo, the latter of which is the international boundary line with Paraguay for a long distance. Each of these rivers is more than five hundred miles in length. The Bermejo River is entirely within Argentine territory. It is exceedingly tortuous and its actual length is about three times as great as the real[89] distance between its source and its mouth. Small steamers can navigate it for at least half of its length.
Between these two rivers and extending across the Paraguay River into Paraguay lies what is known as the Gran Chaco. This is a broad plain, alternating with forest, which includes thousands of square miles of territory. It is the least known of Argentine territory, because of the difficulties of travel, and also because of the fact that wild and savage Indians who lead a nomadic existence are still to be found in certain sections. It was a mysterious and strange country to the early explorers. Into this wilderness the natives fled, and both fancy and imagination peopled it with all manner of strange wild beasts. The territorial boundaries were never definitely settled, until President Hayes, acting as arbitrator, fixed the boundaries between Paraguay and Argentina. These vast leagues are now divided into two territories, Formosa and Chaco. The former is almost as large as Ohio and the latter equals Illinois. In the two territories the reported population is about one person to each five square miles. There are many curious phenomena in the Chaco. The edges between plain[90] and woodland are as clearly cut and as straight as if a surveyor had done the work. In fact the line of demarkation is drawn with remarkable exactitude. On one side will be a forest, and on the other the smooth plain stretches out with not a tree upon it to break the severity of the contrast. In other places there will be only palm trees, with not a single specimen of another species for variety. It is a land of strange watercourses. Broad streams that have ploughed all the way from the Andes in the full light of day burrow beneath the ground in the Chaco and continue their course underground. During heavy rainfalls it is claimed that small fish descend from the clouds. Fish eight or ten inches in length will be found in pools after showers, where there had been no water, and the ground had been in a parched condition for months. Do they lie imbedded in the earth like frogs? Are these fish amphibious? These questions have not yet been answered. It is a fact that there are many odd phases of nature in this little known section of Argentina; the same character is found in a goodly part of Paraguay, and it even extends up into Brazil.
 
A FOREST IN THE GRAN CHACO
 
The forest section of the Chaco is not a dense[91] growth like the tropical forests. The trees do not stand close together; and the spaces between are not impenetrable, although some underbrush and tall grasses impede the way. Yet a man on horseback can easily thread his way through them. The only inhabitants are the Indians and half-breeds, the latter of whom are only partially civilized. Their homes are mud huts of a single room where the entire household, irrespective of age and sex, lodge. The Chaco abounds in game of many kinds. Partridges, wood-pigeons and snipe are very plentiful, and almost every species of water fowl in addition. A species of wild turkey is also to be met with, which affords most excellent sport as well as eating. The osprey, whose plumes are so much in demand, is a native of this land. The tapir, ant-eater, wild pig, jaguar and the lone wolf—a creature that has never been known to live in captivity—are found here in their native wilds. Poisonous snakes are very common, and huge pythons are occasionally encountered in the swamps. It is the innumerable insects, however, that make life almost unbearable for the white man, for he is subjected to both diurnal and nocturnal torture by the hordes of these pests.
[92]
At the present time this section is chiefly exploited for the quebracho wood. This is a very hard, fine-grained and tough wood. It was so named from the words quiebra-hacha, the axe-breaker, and was well named, for it does defy ordinary axes and saws. It is a tree found only in the Chaco. There are two varieties, the colorado (red) and blanco (white), of which the former is the most valuable. From this tree are made railroad ties which will last for thirty years, and it is the richest in tannin extract of any tree yet discovered.
The quebracho tree usually stands out by itself and is easily discernible at a distance, both from the character of its bark and the peculiar formation of its branches. Four or five trees to the acre is about the average yield. The tree is tall, two or three feet in diameter, and is crowned by a rather thin, oval mass of branches and leaves. The leaves are oval, smooth and shiny, and it is only partially deciduous. It lives to a great age, but also grows quite rapidly, so that it can be cultivated in the future as necessity demands. Formerly this tree was sought only by the railroads for their sleepers. About fifteen years ago it was found to be full of tannin, and, as oak bark was becoming[93] scarce, this demand was rapidly developed and now forms the principal use for quebracho. Not only the bark yields tannin, but the sap and wood as well. The bark contains about eight per cent. of tannin, the sap three or four per cent., and the heart of the tree will yield as high as twenty-five per cent. of this essence so necessary to the tanner. It is a difficult and expensive product to market because of the remoteness of the forests and scattered character of the trees. In many places narrow gauged railroads and spurs have been run out through these trackless wastes in order to bring the logs to the mills or rivers. Otherwise it would be slow work, for during a large part of the year the roads are almost impassable and oxen suffer much from the climate and insects. These light railways have been found to be by far the most economical means of getting the logs to market. One company owns four million acres of the Chaco, and is prepared to cut logs into sleepers, make fence posts, or prepare it into tannin extract, whichever offers the most profit. There is a big and constantly increasing demand for all. The increase in construction of the Argentine railways makes a demand for sleepers, and failure[94] of other sources of supply gives an ever widening market for the tannin extract.
Some of the railways in the Chaco end at the rivers, where the logs are loaded on boats and taken down to Rosario or Buenos Aires. Small sawmills are now found way out in the Chaco far from civilization. Other companies have their factories in the Chaco district, where the whole work is done and the extract prepared for shipment. This substance is known in the markets as “Quebracho Extract.” It is easily manufactured where the proper machinery has been installed. The wood is passed through a machine which cuts it into shavings and the smallest possible chips. These are collected into immense kettles, where it is treated by chemical processes until all the tannin has been removed. After this the fluid is reduced by evaporation to a thick, jelly-like mass which is poured into sacks, where it is finally dried into the substance sold in commerce. Some of the companies engaged in this business have been capitalized for very large sums, and considerable towns have grown up around their establishments. Civilization and development have followed the construction of the railroads here as everywhere.
 
AN INDIAN WOMAN OF THE GRAN CHACO
 
[95]
In 1895 the first exportation of quebracho extract is recorded from the River Plate. In that year it was four hundred tons only. By 1902 it had reached nine thousand tons, and now the annual export exceeds thirty thousand tons. Of this enormous export the United States takes fully sixty-five per cent.
There are several thousand Indians who live in the Gran Chaco, and they comprise a number of tribes, all of whom, however, have the same general characteristics. These Indians are absolutely unlettered, and they have developed no civilization or institution of their own. Furthermore, they have the reputation of being treacherous and cruel, and many small parties of whites have been treacherously murdered. They are perhaps the most barbarous of any Indians in South America. Others of the same tribes inhabit the Chaco of Paraguay. It is said by those who have made a study of them that these Chaco aborigines are more ignorant and much less tractable than any of the natives of Patagonia.
They dwell along the rivers in this great wilderness in the simplest kind of abodes, and away from the settlements wear practically no clothing whatever. One distinguishing feature[96] is the habit of tattooing the skin, which is very common. Not only the warriors, but the women as well, indulge in this custom, which, in their opinion, beautifies them. At first glance these tattoo marks oftentimes resemble the markings of smallpox, but a closer inspection shows that it is all in geometrical design. It is effected by pricking the skin with a big thorn, dipped in an acrid milky substance obtained from a plant that grows near there, and which leaves an indelible mark wherever it touches. It is absorbed by the epidermic tissue. This juice is obtained by breaking off the clusters of flowers of the plant, called the iguoqui, and this milky substance then exudes from the stem. It is used as it comes out of the stem, for it must be fresh. The Indians are also almost hairless on the face and body, due to the habit of depilation of the skin. This latter characteristic is in common with our American red men, and the tattooing takes the place of paint.
Horrible tales are told of these Chaco Indians and their murder of travellers. On the other hand numerous instances are known where they have saved the lives of white men and tenderly ministered to their wants. They have been accused of being cannibals, and probably were in[97] the past. “I have seen them drink the blood of animals killed for our use with avidity,” says an Argentine writer. They do not live exclusively on meat, but also eat roots and wild fruits, and the wild honey which is found in abundance. From fruits and honey they also make fermented drinks, of which they are very fond. They are nomadic, and wander from one place to another in quest of game and fruit. They have few domesticated animals, such as the dog and horse. They neither understand nor practise agriculture, although they sometimes plant little patches of corn or sugar-cane, which they have learned from the priests. They barter a little among themselves, but of trade in general they know nothing, and so they beg of travellers whom they meet instead of offering to trade. It is said they cannot even count above four. In medicine they resort to sorcery and incantations rather than to any curative herbs.
Polygamy is permitted among these Indians, but is not commonly practised. The portion of women is very much as with the red men, for to them falls the hard work of the home. If her husband dies the wife mourns for a year, and it is not proper for her to marry again[98] during that time. She even refuses to converse and walks apart from all the others. The dead are burned by some tribes and buried by others. Those tribes who bury always place a gourd of water by the grave. This is both for the deceased and his friends, who come to visit the grave, and is probably due to a fraternal and hospitable idea in this land where a drink of refreshing water is sometimes more welcome than food.