Chapter 13 XIII Argentine Prairie

The Panpa region of Argentina extends between 34° and 40° south latitude. Panpa is an Aroganian word meaning grassland.The area is named after the grassland, which is worthy of the name.Mimosas in the west and various grasses in the east constitute the special features of this region.The roots of these plants grow in the floating soil above the light red or yellow silt soil.If a geologist came to investigate the Tertiary [Note: The name of the geological age.From 65 million years ago to 1.8 million years ago. ] Strata, the harvest must be very rich.There are countless great floods [Note: The geological age ranges from about two or three million years ago to about 20,000 years ago. 】The early animal bones, the Indians said, were the bones of the extinct giant armadillo.Beneath those plentiful and dusty weeds lay the whole primitive history of the region.

The grasslands of America are like the grasslands of the Great Lakes in the northern part of the United States of America, and the wastelands of Siberia.The heat and cold of this steppe area exceeds that of Buenos Aires, because it is inland.According to Paganel's explanation, the heat in summer is absorbed by the ocean, and slowly spits out in winter. Therefore, the climate difference between winter and summer on the island is not as great as that in the interior.Therefore, the climate in the Xipanpa grassland area is not as uniform as that in the east coast area.The climate in the Xipanpa Grassland is abrupt, hot and cold at times, constantly jumping up and down on the water column of the cold and heat table, and very quickly.In autumn, that is, on April 5, there is a lot of rain, but around October, the climate is very dry and the temperature is very high.Every morning, Greenarvan and his party set out at dawn after approving the route. The ground was clinging to the roots of countless shrubs, big and small, and it was very firm.There are no more sand dunes, nor the fine sand that makes them up, nor is there any wind-blown dust in the air.The horse is striding forward in the grass, Paja.Bulagrass is a unique grass in the prairie, and it is everywhere. Indians take shelter under this grass when they encounter storms on the road.At a considerable distance, there is still a wet depression, but these depressions are becoming rarer and rarer.Willows grow in the hollows, and there is a plant called Argentine reed, which likes to grow near fresh water.When the horses encounter such a place, they drink desperately for a while. This is not only to seize the opportunity for a momentary pleasure, but also for the future, in case there is less water in the future.Tarcaf was at the front of the line, beating the bushes as he walked.One of the most venomous snakes in the grove is called the Sorina, and if a cow is bitten by it, he dies within an hour.Tarcaf called Congmang just to scare away this kind of snake.The vigorous Taojia horse was also prancing over the thorns, helping the master to open the way for the horses behind.

Traveling over these flat and straight grasslands is naturally easy and quick.The nature of this plain has not changed in any way, even if it is within 160 kilometers around, there is not a single stone, not a single pebble.Never have I encountered such a monotonous place, stretching so far.What scenery, things changing, wonders of nature, you don't even want to see them!Only scholars like Paganel who can create something out of nothing and be excited about everything can be interested in every plant and tree on this road.Why is he interested?He couldn't say it himself.At most, it is just encountering a small bush!Maybe just encounter a blade of grass!That was enough to get him talking, and cause him to talk at length to Robert, and Robert liked to hear that from him.

On October 29th, the plain that lay before the travellers was still so monotonous. In the afternoon, just before two o'clock, they encountered a long stretch of livestock remains.Those were the skeletons of countless cows, piled up there, in vain.The remains were not arranged in a zigzag line to represent exhausted animals that died along the way.So no one, not even Paganel, could guess why the many bones came together in a rather narrow place, so he asked Tarcaf again, who gave him it easily. explained. The scholar shouted: Impossible!The Patagonian nodded his head, which made the traveling companions even more puzzled.

What is going on?they asked. Burned to death.The geographer replied. how!Thunder and fire will cause such a big disaster!Austin asked in amazement, a large herd of 500 cows would lie down on the ground together! Tarcaf said so, and he could not be wrong.And I also believe his words, because the storms in this grassland are famous for their violence.May we not be so tried one day! It was very hot.Wilson said. Yes, the thermometer is thirty degrees in the shade.Paganel replied. It didn't surprise me, I felt the heat wrapping around me.Hope it doesn't get hotter anymore.Greenervan said.

ah!O cried Paganel, don't think of a change in the weather!You can see that there is not even a shadow of fog in the sky. Damn it!Glenarvan added that our horses are getting too hot.You are not too hot, my boy?He turned to Robert, asking. No sir, I like hot spots. Best in winter hotspots.The major corrected quite correctly, blowing a puff of cigar smoke into the air as he spoke. At night, they rested next to an abandoned thatched hut made of woven branches, the walls were painted with mud, and the roof was covered with grass.This grass shed is connected to a yard surrounded by rotten wooden piles. This kind of yard is enough to protect the horses overnight. They are not attacked by foxes. Horses are not afraid of foxes, but those cunning beasts bite the horse's reins, and the reins are broken. , the horse fled.

A few steps away from the thatched hut was an earthen pit, which was used as a stove, and there were still ashes in the pit. In the hut, there was a stool, a broken cowhide bed, a pot, an iron chain, and a handful of hemp. The pot of tea, hemp tea is a popular drink in South America, and it is the tea of ​​the Indians.It is a kind of roasted leaves, soaked in water, and sucked with wheat stems, just like Americans drink other drinks.Due to Paganel's request, Takaf made several cups of sesame tea, together with the daily dry food, and everyone ate and drank it in harmony. They all said that the tea tasted very good.

The next day, October 30th, the sun rose in the heat haze, and it poured its hottest rays over the land.It must have been a very hot day, and it was a pity that there was no shade in the plain.However, everyone still plucked up the courage to head east. Several times they encountered huge herds. The cattle and sheep were lying lazily under the scorching heat, and they didn't even have the strength to eat grass.The shepherd was nowhere to be seen.Only the dogs, accustomed to drink the goat's milk when they were thirsty, guarded the great herds of cows, bulls, and bulls.Fortunately, these cows are very docile, unlike European cows who are afraid when they see red.

They are not afraid of red, it must be because they eat the grass of the Republic. 】ah!Paganel said that his quip was perhaps a little too French, but he was very pleased with himself. In the evening, the scenery on the grassland had some changes. Everyone's eyes were tired of looking at monotonous things, so they noticed the changes as soon as they appeared.There are fewer and fewer grasses, more and more burdock seeds, and a big Atractylodes macrophylla over two meters high, which is a delicacy that donkeys all over the world dream of.Here and there were many dwarf shanals and other small dark green, prickly trees that thrive on dry soil.Until this time, the clay soil on the plain still retains considerable humidity, which nourishes the pasture, so the pasture grows densely and richly, like a carpet.The carpet now seemed worn out, and in places large areas of hair had fallen out, showing the twine base and exposing the barren soil.These are all signs that the ground is getting drier, and the difficulties ahead are already in front of us.Takaf has already reminded everyone to pay attention.

I don't hate the change, Austin said, it's always sloppy, stinkin' it makes me dizzy. Yes, but if you always see grass, you always have water to drink.replied the major. ah!No worries about water, Wilson said, we could always meet a small river on the way. Had Paganel heard his answer, he would have regretted telling him that between the Colorado and the mountains of the Argentine province there are few rivers.But then Paganel was talking to Glenarvan, who called his attention to a strange phenomenon, which he was explaining. It turned out that they felt that the atmosphere was full of smoke, but there was no fire on the horizon, and no smoke to indicate that there was a fire in the distance.Therefore, no natural cause can be found for this smoky phenomenon.After a while the smell of burning grass became stronger.No one was surprised except Paganel and Tarcave.The geographer had no difficulty in explaining any question, and at the moment they gave the following answer to their traveling companions:

We can't see the fire, but we smell the smoke.But we should know: no fire, no smoke, this idiom has examples in Europe.Therefore, there must be a fire somewhere.However, the plain is so flat that the air flow is unobstructed, and we can often smell the grass being burned about a hundred and twenty kilometers away. One hundred and twenty kilometers away?asked the major in an unconvincing tone. is not that right?Paganel affirms, however, I will add that these fires spread on a large scale, often over an enormous extent. Who set fire to the prairie?asked Robert. Sometimes it was thunder and fire, and sometimes the Indians set it on fire if the grass was dry. What is the purpose of setting fire? I don't know how much basis they think this belief has. They think that once a fire is burned on the grassland area, grasses will grow more luxuriantly.If this is the case, this should be the way to fertilize the fields with grass ash.But in my opinion, we would rather believe that the purpose of burning grasslands is to kill insects, and there is a parasite called animal louse, which is particularly harmful to livestock.A fire burned thousands of animal lice to death. But wouldn't this violent method kill some cattle and sheep grazing on the grassland?asked the major. Yes, sometimes some burnt to death.But there are too many cattle and sheep, so what is it to burn a little to death? I'm not worried about cattle and sheep, I can't control these.I do worry about the travelers who pass through this prairie area.When the fireworks suddenly come, won't they be surrounded? Why are you so afraid of this!exclaimed Paganel, seeming satisfied with the encounter, which sometimes happens, and which, for my part, would have liked to see such a magnificent spectacle. This is our scholar, Greenervan went on, who studies scholarship until he is burned alive. God knows, my dear doctor, I'm not so stupid.I have read Cooper [Note: American novelist. ]'s travel notes.Leather socks [Note: The nickname of the characters in Cooper's novels. ] once told us: When a wildfire comes, just pull out the surrounding grass and pull out an open space with a diameter of several meters.It couldn't be easier.So I am not afraid of a fire, but I would rather be caught in a fire. What Paganel hoped to happen did not materialize.If he was half burnt now, it was only because the sun's glare poured out an unbearably hot flame.Even in this typical tropical climate, horses pant non-stop.People dream of finding a shady place, but that is impossible.Unless by chance a cloud came over to cover the ball of fire, then there was a shadow running over the level ground, and the riders hurried their horses after the cloud that was blown ahead of them by the westerly wind.However, after a while, the horse fell behind, and the naked sun was sprinkling fire and rain on the scorched grassland again. We still remember that Wilson once said that there is no need to worry about running out of water. He did not expect that everyone would be so thirsty on this day.He also said that there would always be a small river on the road, and he was too optimistic.In fact, not only was the ground level along the way, preventing any current from finding a riverbed to hold water, but even the ponds dug by the Indians dried up.Seeing that the dryness was getting worse, Paganel reminded Tarcave several times and asked him when he could find water. To go to Salt Lake.The Patagonian replied. When can I arrive? Tomorrow evening. Usually, when Argentines travel in the grasslands, they dig wells temporarily, and there is water at a depth of several meters.But our travelers have no tools for digging wells, so there is nothing they can do.Had to ration the little water that was brought.While not all were thirsty, none of them could drink enough. In the evening, we walked forty-eight kilometers in one breath and rested.Everyone wants to have a good night's sleep to recover from the fatigue of the day, but they don't know that there are swarms of mosquitoes like dark clouds to disturb them.The arrival of the swarms signaled a change in the direction of the wind: sure enough, the wind changed ninety degrees: from the west to the north.Usually, when the wind blows from the south or southwest, those nasty flying insects don't come. While the major remained calm in the face of all the little troubles of life, Paganel, on the contrary, grew impatient with the tricks of fate.He hated those ghost mosquitoes, and hated that there was no acidic water to wipe the countless stings on his body.Although the major tried his best to reassure him, saying that there are 300,000 species of insects in the world according to the naturalist's statistics, it is a blessing that they are only attacked by one or two insects, but Paganel was still full of displeasure when he got up in the morning. . However, he still left at dawn without being urged, because he had to go to Salt Lake that day.The horses were very tired, they were dying of thirst, and although the riders tried to save water for them to drink, their rations were still very limited.This day, it was even more dry, and the north wind in Pampa was similar to the famous hot wind in the great African desert. It blew up with dust, which was equally unbearable. On this day, the monotonous atmosphere of the journey was once broken: Mulladi was walking ahead, and suddenly turned his horse, reporting that a group of Indians was approaching.Everyone saw the matter differently: Glenarvan thought the natives might offer clues about the wrecked crew of the Britannia.Tarcafe was not happy to meet the nomadic Indians on the plains. He considered them bandits and wanted to avoid them.Under his order, the small caravan gathered and prepared weapons, everything was prepared! After a while, everyone saw that the Indian team was only a small team of about ten people, which reassured Tarcaf.The faces of the Indians were easy to see when they walked a hundred paces apart.They were all natives, General Rosa in 1833 [Note: Argentine dictator. 】The race in the area that was swept away.Their high foreheads protruding forward instead of falling back, their tall stature, and their olive complexion, made them a typical example of bodybuilding among the Indians.They were dressed in guanaco or skunk skins, and carried knives, slingshots, slings, and draglines, in addition to a two-foot-long spear.Judging by the skill with which they handle their mounts, they are good riders. They stopped at a distance of a hundred paces, yelling and gesticulating, as if they were discussing with each other.Glenarvan approached them, but had not gone four meters before the party of natives turned their horses and disappeared in an unbelievable speed. The tired horses of the travelers would never catch them. Bitch!Paganel scolded. They escape too fast and are not good people.said the major. Who are these Indians?Paganel asked Tarcaf. They are gauchos [Note: Spanish and Indian mixed blood. 】. Gaucho!Paganel, turning to his traveling companions, said they were Gauchos!We didn't need to make such a fuss just now!Nothing to be afraid of! Why?asked the major. For the gauchos are kindly farmers. Do you think so, Paganel? Naturally.These gauchos took us for robbers, so they all ran away. I thought they were afraid to attack us.Greenervan said he expected to talk to them, whoever they were, and was upset that they had escaped. I think so, too, said the major, because, if I see rightly, the Gauchos are not only bad, but, on the contrary, they are downright horrible gangsters. Where did this come from?cried Paganel. He then began to talk on the ethnological question with such intensity that it stirred the Major's emotions and elicited an exceptional rebuttal from him. I think you are wrong, Paganel. wrong?The scholar denied it. Yes, Mrs. Tarcaf had a right to regard these Indians as robbers herself. Tarcaf was mistaken this time.Paganel retorted, somewhat indignantly, that the Gauchos are farmers and shepherds and know nothing else. I once wrote a pamphlet on the natives of Panpa, which was very popular. Well, you are wrong, Monsieur Paganel. Mr. McNabbs, am I wrong? Even if it's a careless mistake.The major insisted that your book be corrected when it was reprinted. Paganel was so annoyed when his knowledge of geography was criticized and even laughed at, that he could not restrain his temper. You see, sir, my book needs no such corrections! Still need it!At least, this time it is needed.The major retorted that he, too, was getting stubborn. Sir, I see that you like to be sarcastic today. I also think you are very angry today!The Major confronted. We can see that the discussion has developed to an unexpected extent, and the question itself is not worth it.Greenervan felt it was time to intervene: Indeed, on the one hand, you are also somewhat deliberately sarcastic, and on the other hand, you are indeed somewhat angry. Both sides surprised me. The Patagonian could not understand what they were arguing about, but he knew at a glance that the two friends were arguing.He began to smile, and said calmly: It is the north wind that is not good. The north wind is bad!exclaimed Paganel, what has the north wind to do with all this! Well!It is the north wind that is bad, the north wind is what makes you impulsive!I have heard that north winds are particularly stimulating to the nervous system in South America. St.Butterick [Note: A Christian saint especially worshiped by the Scots. ] Yes, Edward, you are right!The major said, laughing out loud. But Paganel got really angry and refused to give up. He felt that Glenarvan's interference was a bit too joking, so he approached Glenarvan. ah!Where did you say that, sir, have my nerves been irritated? yes!Paganel, it is the north wind that irritates you, which inflicts as many crimes in these steppes as the east of the Alps in the countryside of Rome! crime!The scholar said again, am I like a person who can commit crimes? I'm not saying you've committed a crime. You bluntly said that you want me to assassinate you! Well!Glenarvan couldn't help laughing, I'm afraid you'll assassinate me!Fortunately, the north wind only blows for one day! Everyone laughed along with Glenarvan at this. So Paganel kicked his horse between his feet, and ran to the front to digest his temper alone.A quarter of an hour later, he lost it all. In this way, the good character of the scholar fluctuated for a while.But, as Greenervan rightly said, his little weakness this time was entirely external.At eight o'clock in the evening Tarcaf was a little ahead, pointing out the many dry ditches that lead to the salt lake.After walking for another quarter of an hour, the whole team stepped down the embankment of the salt lake.The long-awaited Salt Lake has finally arrived.But disappointment awaited them there: the lake was completely dry!