Just below the equator, on the flanks of the Quilindaña volcano in the Andes, lies hacienda El Tambo. Every year dozens of chagras come to this farm to participate in one of the last traditional rodeos. National Geographic’s editor Barbera Bosma and WideOyster photographer Frits Meyst follow the Andean cowboys on their annual cattle roundup, which is not for the fainthearted. 

In the distance there are shouts and cheers, and the clatter of hooves. From the back of the pickup truck we strategically parked just beside the dry riverbed, we see the first animals appearing on the mountainside in the distance. Behind it a U-shaped line of cowboys on brown and spotted horses. Early this morning they headed into the mountains to drive the herd from hacienda El Tambo to the corrals around the farm. The cattle, an estimated eight to nine hundred cows, bulls and calves, are spread over some five thousand acres of land. The terrain is jagged, the valleys and steep slopes littered with boulders and rocks from volcanic eruptions, the flatter parts riddled with canyons and rivers.

To our right, another group of chagras is getting into action. They should prevent animals from escaping via escape routes eastward. For hours they waited, provided with drinks and cigarettes. Now they dashed apart, visibly relieved to be able to take action. Three, maybe four hundred animals gallop in our direction. On the flanks of the herd, a handful of cattle manage to escape, including an agitated bull. Immediately a chagra goes in pursuit. With his lasso, he manages to catch the bull and guide it behind the herd to the bull ring. There, once loose, the animal continues to kick and buck wildly around itself.

That same afternoon, Plan B is implemented. From a higher-lying piece of land, I look out over the mountains from a few logs. It is cold, the air thin, but the sun is bright. In the distance, the snowy spire of Antisana volcano stands out sharply against the blue sky.

Further on, the group of chagras schooled together, about thirty men, I estimate. They split into two groups. Black dots appear on the horizon. Behind them white, red, a patch of blue: the chagras in their colorful, knitted ponchos, galloping, chasing some fifty black and brown bulls. Through the fences they stormed into the first corral and then into the adjacent pasture.

Further ahead, a handful of men on horseback approached, between them an out-sized bull caught in a lasso. Once in the corral, three, four, five chagras jump off their horses, wrestle the bull to the ground and lasso him to a bare tree. The bull bellowed in protest; once calmed down slightly, he was flanked by two riders into the ring. The first rodeo day is over.

WHITE SMOKE

Now that most of the herd has passed the fences of the hacienda, it seems that today, day three, is the final round-up. Photographer Frits and I are ready in the back of the pickup truck, on a gentle slope leading directly from the mountains to the corral.

Look! Cotopaxi (“Neck of the Moon,” in Quechua)! Slowly the clouds around the volcano dissolve. Only around his neck still circles a collar of fog. It is almost as if the volcano, known as shy – it likes to hide behind the clouds – is doing a striptease.

Even before we see the herd, we hear the cries of the chagras. About sixty animals gallop in our direction, chased by the chagras. On either side of the car they run by, encouraged by the riders. We hear that somewhere on the slopes and horse has been injured. An angry bull pierced the horse’s shank with its horns. On foot, rider and horse – which survives the attack – return hours later.

In the corral, the bulls are separated from the cows by lassoing them one by one. This requires skills, perfect cooperation between horse and chagra and utmost concentration: the animals are unpredictable and angry. Furiously they bucked around. Almost goes wrong. One of the cowboys, who, as befits modern chagras, is filming the scene with his phone while driving, is surprised by a bull. His horse spooked and tried to throw the rider off his back. It ends well, but when I get to see the video in question, I see that it was only a hair’s breadth away. In the screen, I see the bull approaching. He storms straight toward Alejandro Perez. Then: shaking image, an inverted horizon, a wild bull on the attack, screams. At the last moment, Alejandro manages to get his horse under control and climb back into the saddle. He comes away with a scare, and with a video that will probably earn him a lot of thumbs up online.

After lunch, a group of chagras returns to the mountains in search of straggling animals. The other chagras work in the corrals, where the animals are counted, vaccinated, and separated from each other. From the large corral to the other corrals, a passageway of wooden fences has been built through which the animals are driven. From the fence, I watch. It smells like manure, mud and cigarettes. One by one, the animals go down the corridor. Pablo Perez counts out loud: vaca (cow), cria macho (calf, male), cria hembra (calf, female), torete (young bull), toro: plaza (mature bull, to the ring, to be sold), vacona (pink).

Once the animals are vaccinated and divided, they are again led into groups of twenty in one of the corrals. A fire is burning in the corner. Before the herd is released into another grazing area, one more thing needs to happen.