340 IN THE WILDS OF SOUTH AMERICA 



merchandise to Santa Cruz and brought back cigars and 

 low-country products. 



The language spoken by the Cruzenos is very peculiar; 

 the diminutive ito is changed to ingo, so instead of saying 

 potito, horita, or chiquito, they say pocingo, horinga, and chi- 

 quingo, for instance. There are also other changes that 

 sound either confusing or amusing at first. At any rate, 

 they speak the language of the country, and do not copy 

 that of the Indians. I have frequently wondered how any 

 country, such as Paraguay or Bolivia, for example, could 

 hope to advance when its inhabitants adopt the language 

 and customs of its Indian population, instead of introduc- 

 ing then* own mode of living and institutions which should, 

 at least, be on a higher plane. The former procedure might 

 be excusable to a limited degree in isolated cases when, for 

 instance, a missionary goes among savages who have no 

 reason for being interested in the white man, and who do 

 not recognize his authority unless he can propound his doc- 

 trine in a way they can readily understand. It may be 

 argued that a large proportion of the inhabitants of Para- 

 guay or Bolivia are half-breeds and therefore naturally 

 adhere to the ways of their Indian ancestry; but that only 

 shows more conclusively than ever the weak, moral fibre 

 of the Spanish half, that so readily succumbs to the Indian 

 half. It is very safe to wager that if such a country were 

 completely isolated from the remainder of the world for 

 a few generations, savagery would again come into its own 

 and obliterate the traces of to-day's civilization. 



In the course of years of almost constant hunting one is 

 compelled to have some very peculiar and unusual experi- 

 ences. One of these occurred at Malena, Colombia, when 

 the wounded macaw entered our room. Another took place 

 at and near Vermejo. The evening before starting back 

 to Samaipata, we noticed a flock of swifts soaring high above 

 the hut. Boyle and I grabbed our shotguns and each took 

 a quick shot before the birds disappeared; my companion 

 scored a clean hit; apparently I had missed; but the next 



