The Guide of the Desert

"He is a Paulista," he said to me, in a subdued voice, looking cautiously around him, as if he feared that this word might fall upon an indiscreet ear.

On several occasions during my stay at Buenos Aires, I had heard of the Paulistas: the information which had been given me with regard to them, although for the most part very incomplete and erroneous, had, however, greatly excited my curiosity.

The Paulistas, or Vicentistas, for these two names are indifferently applied to the early historians, first settled in the vast and magnificent plains of Piratininga. There was then organised under the intelligent and paternal direction of the two Jesuits, Antieta and Nobrega, a colony within a colony – a sort of half barbarous metropolis, which owes to its courage a continually increasing prosperity and influence, and the exploits of which if some day they are related, will form, I am convinced, a most interesting chapter in the history of Brazil.

Thanks to the intervention of the Jesuits in Brazil, the Europeans did not disdain to ally themselves with those strong and bellicose Indian races who so long held the Portuguese in check, and sometimes drove back the conquerors.

From these alliances there arose a warlike race – brave, inured to all kinds of fatigue, and remarkably daring, who, well governed, produced the Paulistas.

Several serious charges are laid at their door; they have been accused from the very foundation of their colony of having shown an indomitable and independent disposition, an affected disdain for the laws of the mother city, and an unheard-of pride towards the other colonists.

To these accusations the Paulistas have given the most complete denial.

The province of St. Paul, peopled by them alone, is now the most civilised, the most industrious, and the richest in Brazil.

I urged my journey as much as possible, the rather because my guide had informed me that the fazenda do Rio d'Ouro, where don Zeno Cabral had given me a rendezvous, was situated on the frontier of the province of St. Paul, of which it was one of the richest and most vast achievements.

In order the more quickly to reach the end of our long journey, my guide, notwithstanding the difficulties of the way, had led us along the inundated banks of the Rio Uruguai.

On the fourth day after our departure from the rancho, we reached the Aldea of Santa Anna, the first Brazilian station in ascending the river.

The excessive rise of the river had caused terrible ravages in this miserable village, composed of scarcely a dozen ranchos. Several had been carried away by the waters, the remainder were threatened with speedy inundation; the poor inhabitants, reduced to the most frightful distress, were camped on a little hill, awaiting the withdrawal of the waters.

Nevertheless, these poor people, spite of their misery, received us in the most hospitable way, placing at our disposal everything they could furnish us with.

It was with an unspeakable pang of the heart and profound gratitude that on the next day at sunrise I left these good people, who overwhelmed us at our departure with wishes for the success of our journey.

I continued to advance through a charming and varied landscape. Three days after my halt at Santa Anna, about two o'clock in the afternoon, at an angle of the route, I suddenly turned my head, and in spite of myself I stopped, uttering a cry of admiration at the unexpected sight of the most delicious country I had ever contemplated.

My Guaranis smiled with joy. It was to him that I owed this splendid surprise, which he had been preparing for me for some hours by inducing me to take, under pretext of shortening the journey, concealed paths through almost impenetrable woods.

Before me, almost at my feet, for I had stopped on the summit of an elevated hill, extended – enclosed in a horizon of verdure, formed by a belt of virgin forest – a landscape of about ten leagues in circumference, of which, thanks to my position, my eye took in the minutest details. About the centre of this landscape, over an extent of two leagues, was a lake, the transparent waters of which were an emerald green in colour – the wooded and beautiful picturesque mountains which surrounded it were covered in some places with plantations.

We were on the spot where the Curitiba or Guazu, a rather important river, an affluent of the Parana, that we had reached, after having traversed the Paso de los Infieles, enters the lake.

At the entry of the Guazu I perceived an isle which my guide assured me had formerly floated, but which had by degrees approached the bank, where it had become fixed. At first formed by aquatic plants, the vegetable earth had been heaped up there, and now it is covered with pretty thick wood. Then, in the distance, in the midst of a ravine between two hills covered with wood, I perceived a considerable number of buildings raised like an amphitheatre, and surmounted by a tall steeple.

Below the rugged steep, on the summit of which these buildings were situated, the Guazu rushed along, struggling over the obstacles that abrupt rocks, covered with a verdant lichen, opposed to its course; then, dividing into several arms, it lost itself, after innumerable meanderings, in the sombre valleys which stretched right and left. I could not take my eyes from the spectacle of nature in this grand, wild, and really imposing form. I remained there as though fascinated, not caring either to advance or recede, so great was the emotion that I experienced, and, forgetting everything, still looking without being satiated at this splendid view, to which nothing can be compared.

"How beautiful!" I cried.

"Is it not?" replied the guide.

"What is this magnificent country called?"

"Do you not know, mi amo?" said the Indian.

"How should I know, when I come here today for the first time?"

"Why, because this country is well known, mi amo," replied he; "people come from long distances to see it."

"I doubt it not, but I should like to know its name."

"You see before you the fazenda do Rio d'Ouro; in former days all these mountains that you see were filled with gold and precious stones."

"And now?" I asked, interested in spite of myself.

"Oh, now they do not work the mines; they are exhausted or inundated with water. The master pretends that it is much better to work the earth."

"He is not wrong. What is the name of the good man who reasons so judiciously?"

"I do not know, mi amo; they pretend that the fazenda, and all the lands appertaining to it, belong to don Zeno Cabral, but I should not dare to assert it; but, for that matter, it would not astonish me, for singular things are related as to what passes in the caldeiras that you see down there," added he, pointing with his finger to three round holes in the form of a funnel, pierced in the rocks.

"What do they relate, then, that is so extraordinary?"

"Oh, frightful things, mi amo, and things which I, a poor Indian, should never dare to repeat."

It was in vain I pressed my guide to explain himself; I could only draw from him ejaculations of fright, accompanied by innumerable signs of the cross. Wearied of doing so, I gave up asking any farther about a subject which appeared to displease him so much.

"In what time will we arrive at the fazenda?" I asked.

"In four hours, mi amo."

"Do you think that don Zeno will already have arrived, and that we shall meet him?"

"Who knows, mi amo? If the señor don Zeno wishes to have arrived there, he will be there."

Beaten on this point as on the first, I finally gave up asking my guide questions, to which, according to his pleasure, he made such ridiculous answers, and I confined myself to giving him the order to proceed.

By degrees, as we ascended the valley, the landscape changed, and assumed aspects of a striking character. I thus traversed, without perceiving it, the pretty considerable space which separated me from the fazenda.

At the moment when we began to ascend a rather wide and well-kept path that conducted to the first buildings, I perceived a horseman who was galloping towards me at full speed.

My guide touched me lightly on the arm with a quiver of fear.

"Do you not recognise him? It is the seigneur don Zeno Cabral."

"Impossible!" I cried.

The Indian shook his head several times.

"Nothing is impossible to señor Zeno," murmured he, in an undertone.

I looked more attentively; I recognised, indeed, don Zeno Cabral, my old companion of the pampa. He wore the same costume as at our first meeting.

In a minute he was near me.

"Welcome to the fazenda do Rio d'Ouro," said he to me joyfully, holding out his right hand, which I grasped cordially; "have you had a good journey?"

"Excellent, I thank you, although very fatiguing. But," added I, noticing a slight smile on his lips, "although I do not yet rank myself with a traveller of your calibre, I begin to be perfectly accustomed to it; moreover, the aspect of your beautiful country has completely made me forget my fatigue."

"Is it not beautiful?" said he with pride; "And does it not merit to be seen and appreciated?"

"Certainly."

"You have been satisfied with this bribón, I suppose," said he, turning towards the guide, who kept himself modestly and timidly in the background.

"Quite satisfied; he has completely redeemed his fault."

"I knew it already, but I am happy to hear you say so, that puts me on good terms with him."

"Go on ahead, pícaro, and announce our arrival."

The Indian did not wait for a repetition of the order.

"These Indians are singular characters," said don Zeno, looking after him "you can only subdue them by threatening them with harshness; but, on the whole, they are not bad."

"You except without doubt," I answered, smiling, "those who wished to do you so bad a turn when I had the pleasure of meeting you."

"Why should I do that? The poor devils acted with good intentions, from the point of view produced by their narrow ideas."

"Do you not fear to become one day the victim of their perfidy?"

"It will be as it shall please God; as to me, I shall accomplish the mission that I have imposed upon myself; but never mind that, you will remain some time with us, will you not, Don Gustavio?"

"Two or three days only," I answered.

"You are in a great hurry," said my host.

"By no means; I am absolutely master of my time."

"Then, why do you wish to leave us so quickly?"

"Why," I replied, not knowing exactly what to say, "I am afraid of discommoding you."

"Don Gustavio," said don Zeno Cabral, "abandon once for all those European fashions, which are out of place here; you cannot discommode a man like me, whose fortune amounts to millions of piastres, who is master, under God, of a territory of more than thirty square leagues, and who commands more than two thousand white, red, and black people. In accepting frankly the hospitality that such a man freely offers you, as to a friend and a brother, you do him honour."

"Upon my word," I answered, "my dear host, you have a style of doing things which makes a refusal absolutely impossible, so do with me as you like."

"Well and good, that's speaking plainly, without circumlocution or reticence. But make yourself easy; perhaps even if your vagabond notions still possess your heart, I shall make, some days hence, a proposition which will make you smile."

"What?" I eagerly exclaimed.

"I will tell you, but hush! Here we are arrived."

Five minutes later, indeed, we entered the fazenda, between a double row of servants.

I shall not dilate on the style in which hospitality was offered me in this truly princely abode.

Some days passed, during which my host endeavoured in every way to amuse me.

However, notwithstanding all his efforts to appear cheerful, I remarked that something weighed on his mind. I did not dare to ask him about it, fearing to appear impertinent, but I waited with impatience till he afforded me an opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, by asking him some questions which I had continually on my lips, and which I with great difficulty repressed.

At last, one evening, he entered my room. A servant, who accompanied him, carried several bundles of papers.

After telling the servant to put these papers on the table, and sending him away, don Zeno seated himself near me, and after a moment of reflection —

"Don Gustavio," said he, "I have spoken of an expedition in which I thought of having your company."

"Just so," I answered, "and I am ready to follow you, Don Zeno."

"Thank you, my friend; but before accepting your consent, let me give you some words of explanation."

"Do so."

"The expedition in question is one of a most serious character; it is directed towards well-known countries, which have been rarely, and at long intervals, trodden by the foot of the white man. We shall have nearly insurmountable obstacles to overcome – terrible dangers to run. Notwithstanding the precautions I have taken to secure our safety, I must tell you that we risk death in the midst of hordes of savages. As to me, my sacrifice is made."

"And are you going?"

"Yes, I am going, for I have the most important reasons for doing so; but as to you, your position is not the same, and I do not see what right I have to take you with me in a desperate venture."

"I shall go with you, Don Zeno, come what may; my decision is taken, my resolution will not change."

"Well," he said, in an agitated voice, "I shall not argue anymore. Several times we have spoken between ourselves about the Paulistas; you have asked me for information about them; that information you will find in these notes that I leave you. Read them attentively, they will make you acquainted with the motives for the expedition that I now undertake."

It is these notes, placed in order by me, followed by an account of the expedition in which I took part, that the reader is now about to peruse. I have only taken the precaution to change certain names and dates, in order not to wound the just susceptibility of persons still living, and worthy, according to all report, of the estimation in which they are held in Brazil.

CHAPTER V

O SERTÃO

On the 25th of June, 1790, about seven o'clock in the evening, a rather numerous troop of horsemen suddenly emerged from a narrow ravine, and began to ascend a steep path on the flank of a mountain forming the extreme limit of the Sierra di Ibetucata, situated in the province of São Paolo.

These horsemen, having traversed the Rio Paranapanema, prepared no doubt to cross the Rio Tietê, if, as the direction which they followed appeared to indicate, they were going to the territory of Minas Gerais.

For the most part well dressed, they wore the picturesque costume of sertanejos, and were armed with sabres, pistols, knives, and carbines. Their laços, rolled up, were hanging, attached by rings, to the right sides of their saddles.

We shall observe that the bolas – that terrible arm of the gaucho of the pampas in the Banda Oriental – is completely unused in the interior of Brazil.

These men, with their bronzed complexions, haughty bearing, boldly seated on their horses, their hands resting on their weapons, ready to make use of them, and their eyes constantly fixed on the underwood and the thickets in order to discover the route, and to guard against ambuscades, offered in the oblique and mild rays of the setting sun, in the midst of that majestic scene, a striking resemblance to those troops of Paulista adventurers who in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, appeared led by the finger of God to undertake bold expeditions, which were to give new countries to the mother city, and to finish by confining to their impenetrable forests the warlike and unsubdued tribes of the first inhabitants of the soil.

The horsemen of whom we are speaking were thirty in number, reckoning the servants charged with the mules loaded with baggage, and who, in case of attack, were to join their companions in the general defence, and were armed with fusils and sabres.

At some distance behind this first troop came a second, composed of a dozen horsemen, in the midst of whom was a palanquin closely shut, carried by two mules.

These two troops evidently obeyed the same chief, for when the first had arrived at the summit of the mountain, it stopped, and a horseman was sent to hasten the arrival of the second.

The men of the second troop affected a certain military air, and wore the costume of the soldados da conquista, which, at the first glance of a person accustomed to Brazilian manners, clearly showed that the chief of the caravan was not only a rich and powerful personage, but that his journey was surrounded by perils.

Notwithstanding the heat of the day, which was then closing, these soldiers sat firmly in their saddles, and carried, without appearing in any way discommoded by it, the strange accoutrement without which they never undertake an expedition – that is to say, the cuirass, named gibao de armas, a kind of greatcoat stuffed with cotton and quilted, which descends almost to the knees, and also covers and protects the arms better than any other armour from the long Indian arrows.

As when they followed the savages into the forests, they were obliged to abandon their horses, upon which they could not penetrate the virgin forests, they had at their side a kind of large blade, called facão, which was of use to them in cutting bamboos to open up a passage; they each had also an espingole, or a fusil without bayonet, which they ordinarily loaded only with large shot, as it was almost impossible to direct a ball with certainty in these inextricable masses of foliage, rendered thicker still by the strange disposition of the branches, and the entanglement of the bamboos.

These soldiers are much feared by the Indians and the runaway Negroes, whom they have a special mission to track and surprise.

They are much esteemed in the country on account of their courage, their sobriety, and their fidelity, whenever put to the test; thus the presence of a dozen of them in the caravan was a certain indication of the high position which the chief of the expedition occupied in Brazilian society.

The caravan stopped, as we have said, at the summit of the mountain. From that elevation there was a view spread before them, to a considerable distance, over a landscape of forests, of varied valleys, traversed by innumerable streams; but not a house, not a hut, was visible to animate this splendid and wild scene.

The travellers, little affected by the attractions of the magic panorama which was spread out before them, and moreover fatigued by a long journey through almost impracticable paths, while a torrid sun profusely poured its burning rays on their heads, hastened to instal themselves in their camp for the night.

Whilst some amongst them unloaded the mules and heaped up the baggage, others erected a tent in the midst of this improvised camp; the strongest made a heap of trees as a provisional intrenchment, and some others lit the fires intended for the cooking of the evening meal – fires which were to be kept up all night in order to keep off wild beasts.

When the camp was completely made, a horseman of haughty bearing, about twenty-eight or thirty years at the most, whose aristocratic manner, bold look and short manner of speaking, denoted the habit of command, gave the order for the palanquin, which up to that moment had remained at some little distance, surrounded by its escort, to approach.

The palanquin immediately advanced as far as the tent, and was opened. The curtain of the tent moved, and then fell back, without it being possible to know of what sex was the person whom the palanquin had enclosed, and who had just quitted it. The palanquin was immediately borne away. The soldier who had probably previously received strict injunctions, surrounded at a pistol shot the tent, to which they would allow no one to approach.

The chief of the caravan, after having assisted at the execution of the order he had given, withdrew under a somewhat smaller tent, erected at some paces from the first, and throwing himself on a seat, was soon absorbed in profound reflections.

This horseman, as we have said, was a man of twenty-eight or thirty years of age, with delicate and aristocratic features, of almost feminine beauty and delicacy. His countenance, gentle and affable at the first aspect, lost this appearance as soon as it was studied with care, to assume an expression of mocking and cruel wickedness, which inspired fear and almost repulsion; his large black eyes had a vague look which was rarely fixed, his mouth furnished with brilliant white teeth, surmounted by a fine black moustache, oiled with care, only half-opened to allow an ironic smile to escape from his lips, slightly raising their corners. Such as he was, however, to superficial eyes, he was an admirable horseman, full of nobility, and of a seductive bearing.

He had scarcely been twenty minutes alone under his tent, when the curtain of the tent was removed gently to give passage to a man who, after having assured himself by looking around, that the horseman of whom we have just given a sketch was quite alone, took two steps into the interior, and removed his hat respectfully.

This person formed to the first the most complete and the rudest contrast; he was still young, with muscular form and angular features – a base, mean, and cruel physiognomy, impressed with an expression of sullen wickedness; his forehead low and depressed, his eyes grey, round, deeply sunken, and considerably removed from each other, his nose long and hooked, his high cheekbones, his large mouth with flat lips, gave him a distant resemblance to a bird of prey of the least noble kind. His monstrous head, supported by a thick and short neck, was buried between two shoulders of great breadth, his awkward arms covered with enormous muscles, gave him the appearance of possessing extraordinary brutal force, the general aspect of which had something repulsive in it. This individual, whom it was easy at once to recognise as a mameluco [1] hybrid, wore the costume of the sertanejos.

Several minutes passed before the young man recognised the man who was standing before him.

"Ah, 'tis you, Malco Diaz," said he.

"Yes, Monsieur le marquis, it is me," answered the mameluco3, in a low and half-stifled voice.

"Well, what do you want with me, now?"

"Well," said the other with a chill sneer, "the reception that your lordship gives me is scarcely endearing; it is two days since I have spoken to you."

"I have no reason, I suppose, to trouble myself with you. What is the use of my putting myself out? Are you not in my pay, and consequently my servant?" replied the marquis, with a haughty frown.

"It is true," answered the other, "a servant is a dog, and ought to be treated as such; however, you know the proverb, 'A bom jogo bo a volta.'"4

"Spare me your stupid proverbs. I beg and tell me, without more circumlocution, what brings you here?" answered the young man with impatience.

"Well, the business is, your lordship, that I engaged myself to you for two months at Rio Janeiro, in order to serve you as a guide, for four Spanish ounces per month, or, if you prefer it, 106,000 reis.5 Is it not true, your lordship?"

"Perfectly; only you forget that you received before leaving Rio Janeiro – "

"One month in advance," interrupted the mameluco; "on the contrary, I remember it very well."

"What do you want, then?"

"I want the remainder for a simple reason, your lordship; because, our bargain expiring at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, I prefer to settle with you this evening, rather than cause you any trouble during the march."

"What, is it so long since we began the journey?"

"Calculate, your lordship."

"Just so, quite as long," replied he, pensively.

There was a long silence.

"So you wish to quit me, Malco Diaz," said the young man abruptly, in a more friendly tone than that which he had employed just before.

"Has not my engagement terminated, your lordship?"

"Just so; but you can renew it."

The mameluco hesitated; his master did not take his eye off him.

"Will your lordship allow me to speak frankly?"

"Speak."

"Well, you are a great lord, a marquis, it is true; as for me, I am but a poor devil, compared with you, very little and of no account. However, miserable as you suppose me, there is something invaluable in my estimation."