In an absolutely treeless land, without any coal measures, fuel is one
of the greatest difficulties of camp life. In my time, in the city of
Buenos Ayres, all the coal came from England, and cost, delivered, 5
pounds a ton. Its cost in the country, hauled for perhaps twenty miles
over the roadless camp, would be prohibitive, and there was no wood to
be had. For this reason, on every estancia there were some ten acres
planted with peach trees. It seems horribly wasteful to cut down peach
trees for fuel, but they grow very rapidly, burn admirably, and whilst
they are standing the owner gets an unlimited supply of peaches for
pickling and preserving. The soil of the Argentine suits peaches, and
both sorts, the pink-fleshed European "free-stone" and the American
yellow-fleshed "cling-stone," do splendidly. In Spanish, the former
are called _melocotones_, the latter _duraznos_. At Espartillar there
were quite twenty acres of peach trees, and when Lyon and I wished to
be of use, the manager frequently asked us to hitch-up the wagon, and
bring him in a few sackfuls of peaches for preserving.
Espartillar boasted a great neglected wilderness of a garden, as
untidy and unkempt as a fashionable pianist's hair, but growing the
most wonderful collection of fruit.
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