You mind that old oven so greasy and black, That we hauled in a wagon or put in a pack. The biscuits she baked wasn't bad by no means, And she had the world cheated fer cookin' up beans. If the oven was there you could always git by, You could bake, you could boil, you could stew, you could fry.
When the fire was built she was throwed in to heat While they peeled the potaters and cut down the meat. Then the cook put some fire down into a hole. Next, he set in the oven and put on some coals. I allus remember the way the cook did When he took the old "Goncho" and lifted the lid.
He really was graceful at doin' the trick. The old greasy sackers they just used a stick. Boy Howdy! We all made a gen'l attack. If the hoss with the dutch oven scattered his pack. You mind how you lifted your hoss to a lope And built a long loop in the end of your rope.
You bet them old waddies knowed what to expect. No biscuits no more if that oven got wrecked. We didn't know much about prayin' or lovin' But I reckon we worshipped that greasy old oven. And the old cowboy smiles when his memory drifts back To the oven that rode in the wagon or pack.
THE CHUCKWAGON
Winter Time
Cattle are walkin' along in the snow. Riders beside 'em are travellin' slow. No need to hurry, no time for speed. Takin' their cattle to where they get feed.
Cows are in right good condition at that. Some of 'em there you could really call fat. I reckon that's how a man ort to begin, Start givin' 'em rations before they git thin.
Now they must git the hay out of the stack Load up the wagon and fill up the rack. Plenty to do with the hay knife and fork. Start feedin' cattle you run into work.
A cow man he figures the trouble and cost. It's better than countin' up what he has lost. If he keeps his stock fat there is one certain thing, He will have his cows there with their calves in the spring.
This poem is included in Willowdown's collection of Chuckwagon poems.
What else but Gaucho Music from Uruguay, Argentina, Paraguay, so get out your mandolin and guitar and join in with the music. oops I forgot the squeezebox, (accordian)
dr. do-diddily and the dee-dot's
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HERE IS A FABULOUS LITTLE TALE FROM THE REAL GAUCHO COUNTRY
Story and photos by REMY SCALZA / Special Contributor to "The Dallas Morning News"
FLORES, Uruguay
Even Charles Darwin was smitten by the gauchos.
Notes from his 1833 expedition to South America excitedly describe a
rare breed of cowboys discovered riding the open plains, "long, black
hair curling down their backs ... daggers at their waists" and
weather-beaten guitars in tow.
For centuries, the itinerant gauchos roamed the South American
countryside, toiling on ranches, serenading small-town women and
inspiring folk legends about their footloose way of life.
Now, growing numbers of working farms, known in Uruguay as estancias
, are offering modern-day explorers the chance to experience the gaucho
lifestyle for themselves, with a few contemporary comforts thrown in.
"The gaucho was a wanderer, a free spirit," says Raúl Onetto,
silver-haired owner of San Martín del Yi, a 4,500-acre estancia that
attracts visitors from as far away as India and Japan.
But San Martín is no mere
country inn. While saddling up guests' horses in the stable out back,
owner Raúl proudly ticks off the ranch's stats: 1,100 sheep, 850 head
of cattle and a crew of a half-dozen gauchos to keep the place running.
Today, as usual, there's work to be done. From his horse, Raúl surveys
a flock of fuzzy lambs – a veritable sea of bad perms – that needs to
be corralled and sheared before the week is out.
"The gauchos were
loners," Raúl explains, opening a fence gate and letting the flock
flood past. "They'd ride from estancia to estancia, working when they
needed a little money for tobacco."
Raúl slows to round up a straggling lamb, burdened under the
weight of its heavy coat. By now, morning clouds have burned off, and
the sun sends up a fine mist from the plains. Apart from the soft thud
of hooves, the scene is silent.
It was on lonely plains
like these where, in the early 1700s, the gaucho was born, the progeny
of Spanish colonists and local Indians. The mixed-race gauchos played
Spanish guitars but wore ponchos, smoked tobacco but also sipped mate,
a tea brewed from a Pampas shrub.
But above all, they
were outcasts. Rejected by conquistadors and conquered alike, the
gauchos mounted up and took to the plains, living off the land and
herding cattle to earn spending money. Gauchos "had no land of their
own," Raúl explains, helping a guest off her horse. "They weren't
attached to anything.
Around the campfire
With the last lambs penned and the midday sun beating down, it's time
for lunch. In the dining room of the ranch house, Raúl's wife,
Cristina, makes the rounds with a plate of grilled steaks and sausages.
Faithful to frontier tradition, the cuts have been roasted over an asado, the kind of slow-burning campfire where the carnivorous gauchos did most of their cooking.
"There's an old expression," says 63-year-old Cristina, who's as
comfortable playing hostess as donning hip boots to wrangle calves.
"Everything that walks ends up on the asado."
Though the traditional gaucho diet would have made Atkins proud, the
criolla cuisine at San Martín is fresh and varied. Reflecting the
diverse waves of settlers that colonized the Pampas, the menu ranges
from hearty Basque stews to fresh pastas to homemade crepes, pies and
pastries. Lunch ends with a local spin on a Spanish favorite: flan
topped with dulce de leche, the creamy South American caramel.
Back outside, the sheep are getting anxious. While guests look on, a
shearing crew of six hired hands sets up shop in the estancia's dimly
lit barn. All wear the distinctive uniform of the contemporary gaucho:
wool beret, knee-high leather boots and loose-fitting bombacha pants
(think MC Hammer on horseback). Hand-rolled cigarettes peek out from
beneath several bushy mustaches.
The action inside the
barn unfolds as a gruff ballet. Workers clutch the squirming lambs in a
tight embrace while deftly running a pair of shears over the animals'
backs, legs and stomachs. With assembly-line efficiency, the woolly
flock is denuded and sent blinking and shivering back out into the
afternoon sun.
Ranch life
At a lull in the action, Cristina rounds up the guests and shuttles
them through a side door. After tossing a picnic basket in the back of
an SUV, she slides behind the wheel and makes for the gleaming River
Yi, just visible on the far side of the ranch.
"When I first came here, gauchos were always knocking on our door ...
looking for a meal and a bed for the night," Cristina says. (Outside,
wild parrots scatter at the approach of the truck, whirling in the
late-day light.) "I was terrified, but Raúl said they were good
people."
The passing years have cramped the gauchos'
nomadic lifestyle. Modern ranching, with fences and feedlots, relegated
the once free-spirited horsemen to day laborers on the region's massive
farms. Still, the name and the fashions stuck. Today, in small towns
across the Pampas, ponchos, parachute pants and dainty French berets
remain in vogue.
Down by the River Yi, Cristina has set
up a picnic table a few feet from the water's edge. While guests take
afternoon tea – a tradition from colonial days – a wild armadillo,
serenely indifferent in its prehistoric armor, scuttles by.
"They're nearsighted," Cristina explains. "If you don't make a sound ... they'll bump right into you."
On the ride back to the ranch, the setting sun sends bands of pink and
orange streaking over the hills. Near the barn, quiet now after a long
day of shearing, two sleepy dogs mind the flock. The bearded faces of
the crew, lit by the red glow of their cigarettes, hover above the
darkened Uruguayan plains.
The scene – gauchos, prairie, twilight – reads just like a page from Darwin's journal.
"The death-like stillness of the plain, the dogs keeping watch, the
gypsy group of gauchos," Darwin writes in an August 1833 entry, "has
left in my mind a strongly marked picture of this first night, which
will not soon be forgotten.
My thanks to Dallas News for this very interesting addition for the children of the world.
I THINK THE STORY OF THE GAUCHO'S AND THE WAY THEY LIVE NOW AND BEFORE IS VERY , VERY WONDERFUL. THEY MAKE ME THINK OF THE MONGOLIANS.
Dr Diddily and the Dee-Dot's.
"Arawak woman" painting
Warao Myth 1: The Owner of the Sun
The Warao of Delta Amacuro State have made their homes in the hundreds of distributaries called caños that make up the Orinoco delta and adapted to life in a watery world that changes with the rise and fall of the tides. Their palafito
houses rise up from the river mud on stilts and their name, Warao,
means "boat people". Most travel and nearly all trade is done in the curiara
canoes that the Warao hollow from a single giant tree trunk and it is
said that Warao babies learn to paddle before they learn to walk.
There
are over 36,000 Warao in Delta Amacuro, Monagas and Sucre states,
according to the 2001 census, and they speak an independent language
that was once thought to be linked to Yanomami. They have a
complex tradition of myths, healing rituals and music that survives to
this day and Warao women are noted for their excellent weaving skills
and the baskets and hammocks they weave from moriche palm fibres. This myth, which relates how Ya, the Sun, and Guaniku,
the Moon, came to light up the sky, is taken from Maria Manuela de
Cora's book "Kuai-Mare: Mitos Aborigenes de Venezuela" (1957, Editorial
Oceanida).
The Owner of the Sun
Long ago, at the beginning of everything, the
sun did not light up the rivers or warm the conuco gardens, because a
man who lived in the land up above, towards the East, had locked up Ya,
the Sun, in a large bag and did not let him rise up over the clouds.
A
Warao who lived in one of the branches of the Orinoco discovered the
way in which Ya was hidden and decided to send his oldest daughter to
the east to see if she could make the man release the sun. The
girl had to walk for a long time through the jungle and had a hard job
clearing a path through the forest and crossing the steep riverbanks
before she finally arrived at the distant place where the owner of the
Sun lived. When she arrived in front of him she said: "My father
wants you to release the Sun from the hiding place you're keeping him
in and to put him on the sea above (the sky) so he can shine his light
on everybody. The owner of the Sun pretended not to understand
the girl's words, he looked at her warmly and finding her pretty wanted
to take her for his wife. She did not want to give in to his
desires but the man rudely forced her to accept him and then sent her
away, taking no notice of her father's request. When the girl
got home to the village she told her father everything that had
happened and how the owner of the Sun had laughed at his request. The father, undeterred by this, decided to send his second daughter, to see if she would have more luck than her sister. The
Warao's second daughter also had to cross the jungle and walk a long
way, although she took less time than her sister to arrive at the house
of the owner of the Sun, who she asked to release Ya and let him pass
freely through the clouds. But the man also ignored the girl's
request and made her his wife like the other one, because she was also
pretty and had awoken his desire. Afterwards, he said: "Off you go now to the land below and don't come back and bother me."
Instead
of obeying these cruel words as her sister had done, she relied
angrily: "How dare you speak to me like that? Are you not going to
release the Sun?"
And while she spoke to him, she looked around
anxiously to see if she could discover the place where Ya was hidden,
until she spied a strange and very large bag tied to the wooden posts
of the wall and stared at it intently, suspecting that this was it. Seeing that the girl was looking at the bag, the man said quickly: "Careful! Don't even think about touching that!"
By
the tone of his voice the Warao girl knew for sure that the Sun was
hidden there and ignoring the man's threats she leapt towards the bag
in a single bound and ripped it open with a swipe of her hand. The
bright face of Ya, the Sun, appeared immediately, orange and dazzling,
and began to diffuse its heat and the light of its rays over the clouds
of the sea above and over the hills and woods of the Earth. Its light
reached to the very bottom of the rivers and the realm of the spirits
who live beneath the water. Seeing that his secret had been
discovered and he could not contain the power of Ya again, the man
pushed it towards the East and hung the ripped bag in the West, which
was lit up by the rays of the Sun and became the Moon. The girl ran home to her hut to tell her father how she had managed to free the Sun from its hiding place. The
Warao was very happy and did nothing more than contemplate the beauty
of Ya, shining from the sea above. But when less than half a joyakaba (tide) had passed the Sun disappeared behind the hills, leaving the rivers lit only by the reflection of Guaniku, the moon. The
Warao said to his daughter: "Go again to the East and wait for the Sun
to start his trip over the clouds. Just as he is starting out,
carefully tie a tortoise behind him, so he travels more slowly. The
girl did what her father had told her and managed to hook Guaku, the
tortoise, to the Sun's tail, stopping Ya from racing too much with its
slow pace and so making sure the Earth was illuminated for the period
of joyakaba and joajua (the tides).
Since then it has done just
this every day and it only hides away at night, disappearing little by
little over the waters of the rivers to sleep and refresh itself by
drinking, because if it didn't it would die of the heat given off by
its rays. Meanwhile, Guaniku follows Ya's path, reflecting the light of the Sun from the West.
Translated by Russell Maddicks Around the year 1500, discoveries by Spanish explorers of sources of
pearls, gold, and spices in the New World were a powerful stimulus for
Spain to expand into the Americas. Samples of these resources, which
Christopher Columbus and later crews brought back to Spain, so aroused
public enthusiasm in Spain that navigators, and explorers.
There are several mentions of the
term "Western Ocean Yachts" throughout this website. This
was the name (deservedly) given to a type of schooner that developed
at Porthmadog during the last days of sail. They were the result of a
culmination of years of experience by the local men, with all types of
rigs, in many trades and in all the seven seas of the world.
This Kariña myth recounts the arrival on Earth of the creator god
Kaputa, who comes to warn his people that a great flood is coming. Many
similarities have been drawn between this story and the Biblical flood
story of Noah and the Ark. The idea of all the animals entering the
great canoe in pairs and the seeds of all the plants also being stored
is very similar. Whether it is an adaptation of the biblical
story passed on to the Kariña by missionaries and adapted by them, or
an original Kariña myth is almost impossible to say, although the
annual flooding of the major rivers in Venezuela during the rainy
season has given rise to many myths. The text is taken from Father
Cesareo de Armellada´s book: "Literaturas Indigenas de Venezuela"
(Monte Avila Editores, 1991).
The Twins and the Origin of Yuca
The Great Canoe
One
day Kaputa came to the land of the Kariñas to tell them that the world
was going to be flooded and nobody would survive unless they quickly
built a great canoe and got in.
" My children, a great rain is going to fall. It will rain for many nights and many days."
But out of all the Indians only four couples were afraid; the rest didn't believe him.
" My children, help me to build a canoe we can all get in before the rains swell the rivers, that way we won't drown."
"What do you mean everything's going to be flooded? That just couldn't happen," they said, unconvinced.
" I am Kaputa, the father and creator of the Kariña. I don't want my children to die."
"You're not Kaputa," the Indians said, except for the four couples who began to build a great canoe. When they had finished they began to put different animals inside in pairs, and a seed for each plant. Then the day turned to night as the sky darkened and it began to rain for months without stopping. The rivers broke their banks and flooded the land. The water rose so high that it covered the highest trees. When the flooding began everybody wanted to get into the great canoe but Kaputa said:
"You thought I wasn't Kaputa! You didn't want to build the canoe! Well, now you will drown.
local Indians. The mixed-race gauchos played
Spanish guitars but wore ponchos, smoked tobacco but also sipped mate,
a tea brewed from a Pampas shrub.
oric armor, scuttles by. 
old, and spices in the New World were a powerful stimulus for
Spain to expand into the Americas. Samples of these resources, which
Christopher Columbus and later crews brought back to Spain, so aroused
public enthusiasm in Spain that navigators, and explorers. 