Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
As we neared San Antonio the flat country became more fertile, and we passed through
severalnicelittlevillages,wherethetrioofusenjoyedwonderfulhospitality.TheTexanswere
the people in the U.S. who took the greatest interest in my horses, and many came long dis-
tancesintheircarstohavealookatthem.Quiteanumberofthemenworethetraditionalhigh-
heeled cowboy boots and sombreros, a combination that is very becoming. Every house was
open to me, and my only difficulty was to refuse the many invitations I received every day,
without hurting people's feelings. The horses were the centre of admiration of large groups
that used to collect around them, and even if there happened to be no stable handy when we
arrived in some places, willing and practical hands soon fixed up a suitable place, and fodder
wasbroughtalonginacar.MorethanoncesomeenthusiasticladybroughtapacketofQuaker
Oats as a special tit-bit for the horses, and I even had to keep an eye on them to see that they
did not overdo the feeding.
The majority of the landworkers are Mexicans, or of Mexican descent, and the comments
I heard about them were all very complimentary. They are very hard-working and thrifty, and
even a very insignificant salary satisfies them. Cheap Mexican labour makes it difficult for
American hands to find work in the fields, and some day this will give rise to a knotty eco-
nomical problem; in fact, Mexican labour in Texas and other border States has already pro-
voked serious trouble and is the basis of several bills in Congress to place all Latin-American
immigration on a quota basis - aimed entirely at Mexicans.
Although I did not expect to find Texas as it is often represented in cowboy films or by
novelists, I must admit that I was somewhat disappointed with the few farms of any size I
saw, and as for cowboys - I might just as well look for sabre-toothed tigers prowling about in
Hyde Park. I did see some who acted the part of cowboys pretty well, but I am afraid if they
came down to the pampas they would feel like the babes in the wood among the gauchos. I
saw several whizz past us in cars, with a fully saddled pony in a trailer behind on their way
to a small field, maybe ten or twenty miles away, where they work among the few cattle they
possess. When the day's work is done they load the pony again to return home. I am told that
real cowboys still exist in other parts. I do not know, for I have only ridden some 2,000 miles
through the States, not counting side trips by car and by aeroplane, but the fact is that I have
never seen a 'wild' cowboy.
I have been at several
rodeos
, where I witnessed some marvellous riding and roping, the
same company touring from State to State with the regularity of astronomical seasons, and
incidentally, the 'cowboy' who won the roping in one of these 'world's championships' was
from New York, where he learnt his tricky, but, in a practical way, useless art. Yes, times have
changed, and will go on changing; even in the Argentine the influx of foreigners is gradu-
ally changing the gaucho into a modern freak who fits neither into a town nor into a saddle.
However, as the Argentine is essentially a cattle-raising country on a large scale, 'camp life'
as it is called there, will always continue so long as man eats meat, and no mechanical device
will ever take the place of the horse for working the vast herds of stock.
