Naraguana and his people abandoned their old place of
abode, with other events and circumstances succeeding. Of these the
most serious has been the death of Naraguana himself. For the aged
cacique is no more; having died only a few days after his latest visit
paid to his palefaced protege.
Nor were his last moments spent at the _tolderia_, now abandoned. His
death took place at another town of his people some two hundred miles
from this, and farther into the interior of the Chaco; a more ancient
residence of the Tovas tribe--in short, their "Sacred city" and
burying-place. For it is the custom of these Indians when any one of
them dies--no matter when, where, and how, whether by the fate of war,
accident in the chase, disease, or natural decay--to have the body borne
to the sacred town, and there deposited in a cemetery containing the
graves of their fathers. Not graves, as is usual, underground; but
scaffolds standing high above it--such being the mode of Tovas
interment.
Naraguana's journey to this hallowed spot--his last in life--had been
made not on horseback, but in a _litera_, borne by his faithful braves.
Seized with a sudden illness, and the presentiment that his end was
approaching, with a desire to die in the same place where he had been
born, he gave commands for immediate removal thither--not only of
himself, but everything and even body belonging to his tribe. It was
but the work of a day; and on the next the old settlement was left
forsaken, just as the hunter-naturalist has found it.
Had the latter been upon the banks of that branch stream just three
weeks before, he would there have witnessed one of those spectacles
peculiar to the South American pampas; as the prairies of the North.
That is the crossing of a river by an entire Indian tribe, on the move
from one encampment, or place of residence, to another. The men on
horseback swimming or wading their horses; the women and children
ferried over in skin boats--those of the Chaco termed _pelotas_--with
troops of dogs intermingled in the passage; all amidst a _fracas_ of
shouts, the barking of dogs, neighing of horses, and shrill screaming of
the youngsters, with now and then a peal of merry laughter, as some
ludicrous mishap befalls one or other of the party. No laugh, however,
was heard at the latest crossing of that stream by the Tovas. The
serious illness of their chief forbade all thought of merriment; so
serious, that on the second da
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