CHAPTER XI
TRAVELING IN CHILI
THE native troops organized by Lord Glenarvan consisted
of three men and a boy. The captain of the muleteers was
an Englishman, who had become naturalized through
twenty years' residence in the country. He made a livelihood by letting out
mules to travelers, and leading them
over the difficult passes of the Cordilleras, after which he
gave them in charge of a baqueano, or Argentine guide, to
whom the route through the Pampas was perfectly familiar.
This Englishman had not so far forgotten his mother tongue
among mules and Indians that he could not converse with
his countrymen, and a lucky thing it was for them, as Lord
Glenarvan found it far easier to give orders than to see them
executed, Paganel was still unsuccessful in making himself
understood.
The catapez, as he was called in Chilian, had two natives
called peons, and a boy about twelve years of age under him.
The peons took care of the baggage mules, and the boy led
the madrina, a young mare adorned with rattle and bells,
which walked in front, followed by ten mules. The travelers rode seven of these,
and the catapez another. The remaining two carried provisions and a few
bales of goods,
intended to secure the goodwill of the Caciques of the plain.
The peons walked, according to their usual habit.
Every arrangement had been made to insure safety and
speed, for crossing the Andes is something more than an
ordinary journey. It could not be accomplished without
the help of the hardy mules of the far-famed Argentine
breed. Those reared in the country are much superior to
their progenitors. They are not particular about their
food, and only drink once a day, and they can go with ease
ten leagues in eight hours.
There are no inns along this road from one ocean to another. The only
viands on which travelers can regale themselves are dried meat, rice seasoned
with pimento, and such
game as may be shot en route. The torrents provide them
with water in the mountains, and the rivulets in the plains,
which they improve by the addition of a few drops of rum,
and each man carries a supply of this in a bullock's horn,
called chiffle. They have to be careful, however, not to
indulge too freely in alcoholic drinks, as the climate itself
has a peculiarly exhilarating effect on the nervous system.
As for bedding, it is all contained in the saddle used by the
natives, called
recado. This saddle is made of sheepskins,
tanned on one side and woolly on the other, fastened by
gorgeous embroidered straps. Wrapped in these warm
coverings a traveler may sleep soundly, and brave exposure
to the damp nights.
Glenarvan, an experienced traveler, who knew how to
adapt himself to the customs of other countries, adopted the
Chilian costume for himself and his whole party. Paganel
and Robert, both alike children, though of different growth,
were wild with delight as they inserted their heads in the
national poncho, an immense plaid with a hole in center, and
their legs in high leather boots. The mules were richly
caparisoned, with the Arab bit in their mouths, and long
reins of plaited leather, which served as a whip; the headstall of the bridle
was decorated with metal ornaments, and
the alforjas, double sacks of gay colored linen, containing
the day's provisions. Paganel, distrait as usual, was flung
several times before he succeeded in bestriding his good
steed, but once in the saddle, his inseparable telescope on his
shoulder-belt, he held on well enough, keeping his feet fast
in the stirrups, and trusting entirely to the sagacity of his
beast. As for Robert, his first attempt at mounting was
successful, and proved that he had the making in him of an
excellent horseman.
The weather was splendid when they started, the sky a
deep cloudless blue, and yet the atmosphere so tempered by
the sea breezes as to prevent any feeling of oppressive heat.
They marched rapidly along the winding shore of the bay
of Talcahuano, in order to gain the extremity of the parallel, thirty miles
south. No one spoke much the first
day, for the smoke of the Duncan was still visible on the
horizon, and the pain of parting too keenly felt. Paganel
talked to himself in Spanish, asking and answering questions.
The catapez, moreover, was a taciturn man naturally, and
had not been rendered loquacious by his calling. He hardly
spoke to his peons. They understood their duties perfectly.
If one of the mules stopped, they urged it on with a guttural
cry, and if that proved unavailing, a good-sized pebble,
thrown with unerring aim, soon cured the animal's ob
stinacy. If a strap got loose, or a rein fell, a
peon came
forward instantly, and throwing off his poncho, flung it
over his beast's head till the accident was repaired and the
march resumed.
The custom of the muleteers is to start immediately after
breakfast, about eight o'clock, and not to stop till they camp
for the night, about 4 P. M. Glenarvan fell in with the
practice, and the first halt was just as they arrived at
Arauco, situated at the very extremity of the bay. To find
the extremity of the 37th degree of latitude, they would
have required to proceed as far as the Bay of Carnero,
twenty miles further. But the agents of Glenarvan had already scoured that part
of the coast, and to repeat the exploration would have been useless. It was,
therefore,
decided that Arauco should be the point of departure, and
they should keep on from there toward the east in a straight
line.
Since the weather was so favorable, and the whole party,
even Robert, were in perfect health, and altogether the journey had commenced
under such favorable auspices, it was
deemed advisable to push forward as quickly as possible.
Accordingly, the next day they marched 35 miles or more,
and encamped at nightfall on the banks of Rio Biobio.
The country still presented the same fertile aspect, and
abounded in flowers, but animals of any sort only came in
sight occasionally, and there were no birds visible, except
a solitary heron or owl, and a thrush or grebe, flying from
the falcon. Human beings there were none, not a native
appeared; not even one of the guassos, the degenerate offspring of
Indians and Spaniards, dashed across the plain
like a shadow, his flying steed dripping with blood from the
cruel thrusts inflicted by the gigantic spurs of his master's
naked feet. It was absolutely impossible to make inquiries
when there was no one to address, and Lord Glenarvan
came to the conclusion that Captain Grant must have been
dragged right over the Andes into the Pampas, and that it
would be useless to search for him elsewhere. The only
thing to be done was to wait patiently and press forward
with all the speed in their power.
On the 17th they set out in the usual line of march, a line
which it was hard work for Robert to keep, his ardor constantly compelled him to
get ahead of the madrina, to the
great despair of his mule. Nothing but a sharp recall from
Glenarvan kept the boy in proper order.
The country now became more diversified, and the rising
ground indicated their approach to a mountainous district.
Rivers were more numerous, and came rushing noisily down
the slopes. Paganel consulted his maps, and when he found
any of those streams not marked, which often happened,
all the fire of a geographer burned in his veins, and he would
exclaim, with a charming air of vexation:
"A river which hasn't a name is like having no civil
standing. It has no existence in the eye of geographical
law."
He christened them forthwith, without the least hesitation, and marked
them down on the map, qualifying them
with the most high-sounding adjectives he could find in the
Spanish language.
"What a language!" he said. "How full and sonorous
it is! It is like the metal church bells are made of — composed of seventy-eight parts of copper and twenty-two of
tin."
"But, I say, do you make any progress in it?" asked
Glenarvan.
"Most certainly, my dear Lord. Ah, if it wasn't the accent, that wretched
accent!"
And for want of better work, Paganel whiled away the
time along the road by practising the difficulties in pronunciation, repeating
all the break-jaw words he could,
though still making geographical observations. Any question about the country
that Glenarvan might ask the catapez
was sure to be answered by the learned Frenchman before
he could reply, to the great astonishment of the guide, who
gazed at him in bewilderment.
About two o'clock that same day they came to a cross
road, and naturally enough Glenarvan inquired the name
of it.
"It is the route from Yumbel to Los Angeles," said
Paganel.
Glenarvan looked at the catapez, who replied:
"Quite right."
And then, turning toward the geographer, he added:
"You have traveled in these parts before, sir?"
"Oh, yes," said Paganel, quite gravely.
"On a mule?"
"No, in an easy chair."
The catapez could not make him out, but shrugged his
shoulders and resumed his post at the head of the party.
At five in the evening they stopped in a gorge of no great
depth, some miles above the little town of Loja, and encamped for the night at
the foot of the Sierras, the first
steppes of the great Cordilleras.