The Gaucho, Although He May Be
A Cutthroat, Is A Gentleman; The Guaso Is In Few Respects
Better, But At The Same Time A Vulgar, Ordinary Fellow.
The
two men, although employed much in the same manner, are
different in their habits and attire; and the peculiarities
of each are universal in their respective countries.
The Gaucho
seems part of his horse, and scorns to exert himself except when
on his back: the Guaso may be hired to work as a labourer in
the fields. The former lives entirely on animal food; the latter
almost wholly on vegetable. We do not here see the white
boots, the broad drawers and scarlet chilipa; the picturesque
costume of the Pampas. Here, common trousers are protected
by black and green worsted leggings. The poncho,
however, is common to both. The chief pride of the Guaso
lies in his spurs, which are absurdly large. I measured one
which was six inches in the _diameter_ of the rowel, and the
rowel itself contained upwards of thirty points. The stirrups
are on the same scale, each consisting of a square, carved
block of wood, hollowed out, yet weighing three or four
pounds. The Guaso is perhaps more expert with the lazo
than the Gaucho; but, from the nature of the country, he
does not know the use of the bolas.
August 18th. - We descended the mountain, and passed
some beautiful little spots, with rivulets and fine trees.
Having slept at the same hacienda as before, we rode during the
two succeeding days up the valley, and passed through Quillota,
which is more like a collection of nursery-gardens than
a town. The orchards were beautiful, presenting one mass
of peach-blossoms. I saw, also, in one or two places the
date-palm; it is a most stately tree; and I should think a
group of them in their native Asiatic or African deserts must
be superb. We passed likewise San Felipe, a pretty straggling
town like Quillota. The valley in this part expands into
one of those great bays or plains, reaching to the foot of the
Cordillera, which have been mentioned as forming so curious
a part of the scenery of Chile. In the evening we reached
the mines of Jajuel, situated in a ravine at the flank of the
great chain. I stayed here five days. My host the superintendent
of the mine, was a shrewd but rather ignorant Cornish
miner. He had married a Spanish woman, and did not
mean to return home; but his admiration for the mines of
Cornwall remained unbounded. Amongst many other questions,
he asked me, "Now that George Rex is dead, how
many more of the family of Rexes are yet alive?" This Rex
certainly must be a relation of the great author Finis, who
wrote all books!
These mines are of copper, and the ore is all shipped to
Swansea, to be smelted. Hence the mines have an aspect
singularly quiet, as compared to those in England:
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