Argentina from a British Point of View, and Notes on Argentine Life
History
Argentina from a British Point of View, and Notes on Argentine Life
Argentina -- Description and travel; Argentina -- Economic conditions; Argentina -- Social life and customs
Apparently The Kid, too, would have liked to give her
views on mosquitoes and their ways, but her uninteresting remarks were
cut short by The Wild Man's order of "kennel up," and, given a bottle of
cana, she seemed quite happy. Our Guest seemed to have an impression,
also, that someone had blundered. He knew someone had slumbered (some
had not), and plaintively he begged that he might be allowed in future
to sleep at one estancia further ahead of the rest of the party.
Most of the nomads had had some slapping acquaintance with mosquitoes
during the night, and the showing of bites, swellings, lumps, etc., only
ended when The Jehu ordered the bugle to be sounded for an onward move.
We were well under way before half the lamentations had been entered in
the station complaint book.
Bidding adieu to Polvareda, where the green fields of alfalfa show the
march of progress, we pushed forward, but as we left we were unable to
decide whether it was a desire to escape observation (and, perhaps, the
too-effusive thanks of the lady members of the party), or a violent
toothache, which caused our host to conceal himself in a huge blanket
wrapped around his head as we left, but we fear it was toothache that
necessitated the extra wrappings.
[Illustration: _The Green Fields of Alfalfa_.]
We had not gone far on our journey before we crossed the bridge over Las
Conchas. The manager of the next section met us soon afterwards, and we
inspected the cattle on his domains. On our way from Polvareda to
Michelot we passed the emporium of the Universal Provider of the North,
in other words, "the stores," where most of the necessities and many of
the luxuries of life can be obtained. The Saint can never resist the
desire of a bargain, and others of the party were anxious to see all
that the stores contained, so we made a halt and inundated the building,
where everything was extraordinarily neat and clean, shelves piled high
with bales of bright-coloured cottons, cloths, and handkerchiefs; hats
hanging in long lines, brilliant saddle-cloths, pipes, knives, tobacco,
axes, leather goods and harness, every variety of tinned foods, barrels
of flour, sugar, etc., all arranged with precision, and showing
cleanliness and method at every turn. Some men were sitting on the
benches, smoking and drinking and chatting together, for apparently "the
stores" constitutes the local rendezvous and news agency for miles
around.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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