382 IN THE WILDS OF SOUTH AMERICA 



We next headed toward Tucuman and upon our arrival 

 there were pleased to find a city of sixty thousand in- 

 habitants, delightful from practically every point of view. 

 The people were particularly interesting. We saw few of 

 them on the streets during the daytime, but in the late 

 afternoon after the shops and offices had closed and bolted 

 their doors, the men appeared in crowds, all well and neatly 

 dressed. They congregated in the saloons and cafes fring- 

 ing the plaza, and drank beer and small cups of strong, 

 black coffee until about seven o'clock. In many instances 

 the tables were arranged on both sides of the pavement so 

 that one walked through a lane between rows of sleek-combed 

 youths twirling gaudily banded straw hats or canes, and 

 noisily discussing — what-not, and grave-faced men with 

 gray hair and beards everlastingly talking politics. After 

 going home to supper they reappeared with the womenfolk, 

 the wealthier ones circling about the plaza in carriages or 

 motor-cars, the less opulent afoot. The band played every 

 other night. 



The great Province of Tucuman, of which the city bear- 

 ing the same name is the capital, is one of the most fertile 

 in all Argentina. Its principal products are sugar, rice, 

 and cattle. Land values are high — too high in some cases, 

 but it cannot be denied that there is good reason for the 

 rapidly rising scale of prices. 



In Tucuman we found the chief of police a hard proposi- 

 tion to handle when it came to securing the hunting-license. 

 To begin with, we had great difficulty in entering his sanc- 

 tuary. The door was guarded by a mammoth negro who 

 rushed into the inner chamber each time the intendente 

 rang for him. First he always jerked a huge club out from 

 under his coat — ready perhaps to take the first whack at 

 the official if some one started anything, instead of defend- 

 ing him. Finally we succeeded in entering the holy of holies, 

 and found a small, rather elderly man sitting behind a large, 

 flat desk, sipping tea while several secretarios hopped wildly 

 about him and yelled into an ear-trumpet held in position 



