LITMIR.BIZ

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align="left">Lola Mora Fountain, Buenos Aires32La Recoleta36The Government Building, La Plata38The Southern Station at La Plata40In the Great Square at La Plata40Statue presented to Argentina by the French Community on the occasion of the Centenary of Independence42Central Argentine Railway Company's Grain Elevators at Buenos Aires46Latest Type of Passenger Locomotive50Latest Type of Dining Car50View of Grazing Lands54A Drinking Place on an Estancia54Branding Calves on an Estancia60A Group of Gauchos64The Chamber of Deputies74The Kindergarten at Mendoza78Ox-Carts in the Argentine90A Typical Argentine Public Park100A Regatta near Buenos Aires110A Fine Argentine Bridge114Breaking-in Horses in the Argentine120Interior of Dining Car, Central Argentine Railway134The Statue of Christ on the Argentina-Chili Frontier148Plaza Constitution Station at Buenos Aires150The Rosario Express, Central Argentine Railway156On the Way to Market in Cordoba162The Ninth Green at Alta Gracia166In the Courtyard of the Monastery at Alta Gracia166The Hotel at Alta Gracia170A Typical House in Cordoba Province174A Street in Bahia Blanca176The Elevators at Ingeniero White180Plaza Riverdavia, Bahia Blanca182A Bahia Blanca Bank184The Town Hall at Bahia Blanca184Conveying Alfalfa to a Railway Station194The Entrance to the Park at Mendoza200The Promenade in Mendoza Park202The Grape Harvest in the Suburbs of Mendoza204In a Mendoza Bodega208"Chico" in Charge212A Corner of the English Club at Mendoza212The Hotel at Inca218The Inca Bridge in the Andes220General View of an Estancia224A Gaucho and his Family226La Rambla, Mar Del Plata234The Esplanade, Mar Del Plata238A Historic Building: "Casa Independencia," at Tucuman250The Statue of San Martin at Tucuman256The Longest Girder Bridge in the Republic, near Santa Fé266

THE AMAZING ARGENTINE

       Table of Contents

CHAPTER I

       Table of Contents

THE INVADERS

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      It was on a boat which was laden with bananas and running from Colon, on the Isthmus of Panama, to New York.

      The steward called me at dawn. He thought I was mad because I stood in pyjamas without apparent heed of the mirky drizzle. Beyond the sad waters there was little to see but a low-lying and dreary island with a melancholy lighthouse. No vegetation brightened the scene. There was no gorgeous sunrise. There was nothing but a lump of barrenness heaving out of the sea. But this was the island of San Salvador, the western land which Columbus first touched when he sailed to find the Indies.

      There are now near one hundred and fifty millions of people of European descent in the Americas. And a little glow came into my imagination that rain-swept morning when I felt I was the only traveller on the boat who had crawled forth to gaze at San Salvador. I tried to picture what thoughts must have crowded the mind of Columbus when he sighted this shore. He never knew what he had discovered for Spain. He could never have dreamt he was the first in the greatest invasion the world has ever witnessed.

      A year later I was on an Atlantic liner. The fo'c'sle was thronged with poor Spaniards from Vigo and poor Portuguese from Lisbon. In the voyage across the Atlantic I had watched them in the steerage—tawny-visaged, easygoing men, and broad-set, figureless women, sprawling, gossiping, drowsing. To the accompaniment of an accordion they lifted their voices in song on the balmy, starlit evenings whilst the ship churned through the tropical seas.

      Another misty morning and I climbed on deck. Saloon passengers were tucked in their bunks. But all the steerage had turned out and were crowding the foredecks, and were gazing at a dim strip of land and watching a blinking light. The land was the coast of Brazil, and the light was the harbour of Pernambuco, which means "the Door of Hell."

      The immigrants raised a long-drawn shout of joy. They hailed Latin America. There was the country of which they had heard so much. They had broken with the Old World. Four hundred years ago their ancestors came across these seas with eyes greedy for gold. Now they came, not to snatch gold from temples or to terrorise the natives into showing where the metal could be found, but to work on sugar plantations, to nurture the coffee plant, to rear bananas, to do the humble work in the building of towns and the construction of railways, to toil in the jungles, to sit in the saddle and round up cattle on the prairies. They had come to the New World to get gold by industry.

      How much we talk and write about the enterprise and colonising power of the Teutonic races, and how prone we are to dismiss the Latin races as effete and played out! But our generalisations will not bear examination. The spirit of adventure cannot have left Italy and Spain and Portugal. Every year hundreds of thousands of people sail from those countries across the Atlantic.

      We speak of North America as Teutonic—made prosperous

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