BUENOS AIRES AXD ITS RIVER OF SILVER 



42' 



native houses this wood is the favorite 

 fuel, for it gives off a pungent smoke 

 which is said to drive away mosquitoes. 



Birds were all about us : white-tailed 

 vultures, reddish-winged hawks, Para- 

 guayan quail, long-tailed blackbirds, 

 noisy green parrots, tiny jewel-bright 

 hummingbirds, and small, pure white 

 sparrows, which the natives call monjas 

 ( nuns ) . 



In open swampy sites wild cannas, both 

 red and yellow, grew by thousands. On 

 the limbs of the trees were many kinds 

 of orchids. The cactus was blooming in 

 white, crimson, and yellow, some of the 

 flowers being as large as dinner plates. 



SOME INDIAN TRIBES ARE STILL HOSTILE 



Near the end of the line was a small 

 settlement of Indians. They were living 

 in rude, brush-covered shelters and sleep- 

 ing in hammocks which they wove from 

 the fibers of cactus. The adults of both 

 sexes wore cloths doubled about their 

 hips, supported by thongs over their 

 shoulders. 



These Indians had become semi-civil- 

 ized by occasionally associating with the 

 whites, and once in a while they could be 

 induced to work for a few days. Three 

 other tribes — the Lenguas, Suhins, and 

 Savapanas — live farther to the south and 

 have been nominally converted to Christi- 

 anity by several Episcopal missions es- 

 tablished in the Chaco years ago. The 

 Tobas, who live in the great swamps up 

 the Pilcomayo River, and the Matacos, 

 who roam the unexplored hinterland of 

 northwest Paraguay, are still wild and 

 fierce savages, who have destroyed or 

 driven back the few expeditions which 

 have sought to invade their territory. 



Beyond the end of the logging railroad, 

 only thirty miles west of the river, all is 

 unknown country. Nearly four hundred 

 years ago a little band of Spaniards, 

 traveling northwest from a point near 

 Concepcion, after untold hardships, 

 reached the settlements in Bolivia ; but, 

 so far as is known, the feat has not been 

 duplicated. 



Some historians believe that the last 

 remnants of the Incas escaped through 

 Bolivia into the Chaco. At least there 

 are tribes to be studied whose very ex- 

 istence is little more than hearsay, and 

 traditions of strange beasts to be investi- 



gated, such as the great dog-headed snake 

 which the Indians firmly believe lives in 

 the deep fens. What a virgin field for 

 exploration and research ! 



A Scandinavian cattle foreman named 

 Knutson had invited me to accompany 

 him to a cattle round-up, or rodeo, some 

 seventy-five miles west of the river ; so, 

 after my visit to Puerto Casado, I went 

 on down the river to Puerto Pinasco and 

 joined him. A narrow-gauge logging 

 road extended westward through the 

 Chaco some thirty-five miles ; so we 

 loaded our native ponies and saddles on 

 a car, glad of any chance to avoid horse- 

 back work with the mercury so near the 

 top of the thermometer. 



For a few leagues west of Puerto 

 Pinasco extend plains scattered with 

 palms and paratodo trees, whose thick, 

 deeply ridged bark is used locally in lieu 

 of quinine in fighting chu-chu fever. 



West of this belt of open country the 

 forests begin, and, interspersed with small 

 prairies, extend to the end of the road, 

 near which we found a logging camp. 

 All the buildings were made of the trunks 

 of palms, even the roofs being half trunks 

 gouged out and laid alternately concave 

 and convex. 



It was about noon of an intensely hot 

 day when we reached the end of the rail- 

 way and started on our long horseback 

 ride. 



A GAUCHO DANCE AND A GAUCHO 

 ORCHESTRA 



About mid-afternoon we reached a 

 camp of gauchos and found a dance in 

 progress. An arbor of palm poles, 

 thatched with rushes, had been built ad- 

 joining the covered passageway between 

 two huts, and the earthen dancing floor 

 beneath it was beaten almost as smooth 

 and hard as rock. 



The orchestra consisted of a small 

 violin, two Paraguayan guitars, and a 

 most peculiar harp with a wooden coffin- 

 shaped base. The slow music, with many 

 grace notes and runs on the harp, had a 

 weird beauty to it that was most attrac- 

 tive. 



A native round dance, called Santa Fe, 

 was in progress. At intervals one couple 

 would appear in the center of a ring of 

 other dancers, and after a few waltz steps 

 would face each other and go through a 



