EXPEDITION TO THE SUN-WORSHIPPERS. [Footnote: An account of this
expedition was requested by and sent to the Royal Geographical Society
of London, Eng.]
I took passage on the "Urano," a steamer of 1,500 tons, for Concepcion,
200 miles north of Asuncion.
On the second day of our journey the people on board celebrated a
church feast, and the pilot, in his anxiety to do it well, got
helplessly drunk. The result was that during that night I was thrown
out of the top berth I occupied by a terrific thud. The steamer had run
on the sandbank of an uninhabited island, and there she stuck
fast--immovable. We were landed on the shore, and there had further
time for reflection on the mutability of things. In the white sand
there were distinct footprints of a large jaguar and cub, probably come
to prey on the lazy alligators that were lying on the beach; and I
caught sight of a large spotted serpent, which glided into the low
jungle where the tiger also doubtless was in hiding.
After three days' detention here, a Brazilian packet took us off. On
stepping aboard, I saw what I thought to be two black pigs lying on the
deck. I assure the reader that it was some seconds before I discovered
that one was not a pig, but a man!
At sunset it is the custom on these river boats for all to have a bath.
The females go to one side of the ship, and the males to the other;
buckets are lowered, and in turn they throw water over each other.
After supper, in the stillness of the evening, dancing is the order,
and bare feet keep time to the twang of the guitar.
We occasionally caught sight of savages on the west bank of the river,
and the captain informed me that he had once brought up a bag of beans
to give them. The beans had been _poisoned_, in order that the
miserable creatures might be _swept off the earth!_
We landed at Concepcion, and I walked ashore. I found the only British
subject living there was a university graduate, but--a prodigal son
Owing to his habit of constant drinking, the authorities of the town
compelled him to work. As I passed up the street I saw him mending a
road of the "far country" There I procured five horses, a stock of
beads, knives, etc, for barter, and made ready for my land journey into
the far interior. The storekeeper, hearing of my plans, strongly urged
me not to attempt the journey, and soon all the village talked. Vague
rumors of the unknown savages of the interior had been heard, and it
was said the expedition could only end in disaster, especially as I was
not even going to get the blessing of the Paî before starting. I was
fortunate, however, in securing the companionship of an excellent man
who bore the suggestive name of "Old Stabbed Arm"; and Doña Dolores
(Mrs. Sorrows), true to her name, whom I engaged to make me about
twenty pounds of chipá, said she would intercede with her saint for me.
Loading the pack-horse with chipá, beads, looking-glasses, knives,
etc., Old Stabbed Arm and I mounted our horses, and, each taking a
spare one by the halter, drove the pack-saddle mare in front, leaving
the tenderhearted Mrs. Sorrows weeping behind. The roads are simply
paths through deep red sand, into which the horses sank up to their
knees; and they are so uneven that one side is frequently two feet
higher than the other, so we could travel only very slowly. From time
to time we had to push our way into the dense forest on either side, in
order to give space for a string of bullock carts to go past. These
vehicles are eighteen or twenty feet long, but have only two wheels.
They are drawn by ten or twelve oxen, which are urged on by goads
fastened to a bamboo, twenty feet long, suspended from the roof of the
cart, which is thatched with reeds. The goads are artistically trimmed
with feathers of parrots and macaws, or with bright ribbons. These are
of all colors, but those around the sharp nail at the end are further
painted with red blood every time the goad is used.
The carts, rolling and straining like ships in foul weather, can be
heard a mile off, owing to the humming screech of the wheels, which are
never greased, but on the contrary have powdered charcoal put in them
to _increase_ the noise. Without this music (?) the bullocks do not
work so well. How the poor animals could manage to draw the load was
often a mystery to me, Sections of the road were partly destroyed by
landslides and heavy rains, but down the slippery banks of rivers,
through the beds of torrents or up the steep inclines they somehow
managed to haul the unwieldy vehicle. Strings of loaded donkeys or
mules, with jingling bells, also crawled past, and I noticed with a
smile that even the animals in this idolatrous land cannot get on
without the Virgin, for they have tiny statuettes of her standing
between their ears to keep them from danger. Near the town the rivers
and streams are bridged over with tree trunks placed longitudinally,
and the crevices are filled in with boughs and sods. Some of them are
so unsafe and have such gaping holes that I frequently dismounted and
led my horse over.
The tropical scenery was superb. Thousands of orange trees growing by
the roadside, filled with luscious fruit on the lower branches, and on
the top with the incomparable orange blossoms, afforded delight to the
eye, and notwithstanding the heat, kept us cool, for as we rode we
could pluck and eat. Tree ferns twenty and thirty feet high waved their
feathery fronds in the gentle breeze, and wild pineapples growing at
our feet loaded the air with fragrance.
There was the graceful pepper tree, luxuriant hanging lichens, or
bamboos forty feet high, which riveted the attention and made one think
what a beautiful world God has made. Many of the shrubs and plants
afford dyes of the richest hues, Azara found four hundred new species
of the feathered tribe in the gorgeous woods and coppices of Paraguay,
and all, with the melancholy _caw_, _caw_ of the toucans overhead,
spoke of a tropical land. Parrots chattered in the trees, and sometimes
a serpent glided across the red sand road. Unfortunately, flies were so
numerous and so tormenting that, even with the help of a green branch,
we could not keep off the swarms, and around the horses' eyes were
dozens of them. Several menacing hornets also troubled us. They are
there so fierce that they can easily sting a man or a horse to death!
As night fell we came to an open glade, and there beside a clear,
gurgling brook staked out our horses and camped for the night. Building
a large fire of brushwood, we ate our supper, and then lay down on our
saddlecloths, the firmament of God with its galaxy of stars as our
covering overhead.
By next evening we reached the village of Pegwaomi. On the way we had
passed a house here and there, and had seen children ten or twelve
years of age sucking sticks of sugar-cane, but content with no other
clothing than their rosary, or an image of the Virgin round their
necks, like those the mules wear. Pegwaomi, I saw, was quite a village,
its pretty houses nestling among orange and lime trees, with luscious
bananas in the background. There was no Paî in Pegwaomi, so I was able
to hold a service in an open shed, with a roof but no walls. The chief
man of the village gave me permission to use this novel building, and
twenty-three people came to hear the stranger speak. After the service
a poor woman was very desirous of confessing her sins to me, and she
thought I was a strange preacher when I told her of One in heaven to
whom she should confess.
"Paraguay, from its first settlement, never departed from 'the age of
faith' Neither doubt nor free-thinking in regard to spiritual affairs
ever perplexed the people, but in all religious matters they accepted
the words of the fathers as the unquestionable truth. Unfortunately,
the priests were, with scarcely an exception, lazy and profligate; yet
the people were so superstitious and credulous that they feared to
disobey them, or reserve anything which they might be required to
confess." [Footnote: Washburn's "History of Paraguay."]
In the front gardens of many of the rustic houses I noticed a wooden
cross draped with broad white lace. The dead are always interred in the
family garden, and these marked the site of the graves. When the people
can afford it, a priest is brought to perform the sad rite of burial,
but the Paraguayan Paî is proverbially drunken and lazy. Once after a
church feast, which was largely given up to drinking, the priest fell
over on the floor in a state of intoxication. "While he thus lay drunk,
a boy crawled through the door to ask his blessing, whereupon the
priest swore horribly and waved him off, 'Not to-day, not to-day those
farces! I am drunk, very drunk!'" Such an one has been described by
Pollock: "He was a man who stole the livery of the court of heaven to
serve the devil in; in holy guise transacted villainies that ordinary
mortals durst not meddle with."
Lest it might be thought that I am strongly prejudiced, I give this
extract from a responsible historian of that unhappy land: "The
simple-minded and superstitious Paraguayans reverenced a Paî, or
father, as the immediate representative of God. They blindly and
implicitly followed the instructions given to them, and did whatever
was required at his hands. Many of the licentious brotherhood took
advantage of this superstitious confidence placed in them by the people
to an extent which, in a moral country, would not only shock every
feeling of our nature to relate, but would, in the individual
instances, appear to be incredible, and, in the aggregate, be counted
as slanderous on humanity."
During my stay in Pagwaomi, a dance was held on the sward outside one
of the houses, and the national whirl, the _sarandiy_, gave pleasure to
all. The females wove flowers in their hair, and made garlands of them
to adorn their waists. Others had caught fire-flies, which nestled in
the wavy tresses and lit up the semi-darkness with a soft light, like
so many green stars. Love whisperings, in the musical Guarani, were
heard by willing ears, and eyelight was thus added to starlight. As the
dancers flitted here and there in their white garments, or came out
from the shade of the orange trees, they looked ethereal, like the
inhabitants of another world one sees at times in romantic dreams, for
this village is surely a hundred years behind the moon.
From this scene of innocent happiness I was taken to more than one
sick-bed, for it soon became known that I carried medicines.
Will the reader accompany me? Enter then--a windowless mud hut See,
lying on sheepskins and burning with fever, a young woman-almost a
girl-wailing "_Ché raciy!>_" (I am sick!) Notice the intense eagerness
of her eyes as she gazes into mine when I commence to minister to her.
Watch her submit to my necessarily painful treatment with child-like
faith. Then, before we quietly steal out again, listen to her
low-breathed "_Acuerame_" (Already I feel better).
In a larger house, a hundred yards away, an earthenware lamp, with
cotton wick dipping in raw castor oil, sheds fitful gleams on a dying
woman. The trail of sin is only too evident, even in thoughtless
Pegwaomi. The tinselled saints are on the altar at the foot of the bed,
and on the woman's breast, tightly clutched, is a crucifix, but Mrs.
Encarnacion has never heard of the Incarnate One whom she is soon to
meet. Perhaps, if Christians are awake by that time, her grandchildren
may hear the "story."
In that rustic cottage, half covered with jasmine, and shaded by a
royal palm, a child lies very sick. Listen to its low, weak moaning as
we cross the threshold. The mother has procured a piece of tape, the
length of which, she says, is the exact measure of the head of Saint
Blas. This she has repeatedly put around her babe's head as an
unfailing cure. Somehow the charm does not work and the woman is sorely
perplexed. While we helplessly look on the infant dies! Outside, the
moon soared high, throwing a silver veil over the grim pathos of it
all; but in the breast of the writer was a surging dissatisfaction
and--anger, at his fellow--Christians in the homeland, who in their
thoughtless selfishness will not reach out a helping hand to the
perishing of other lands.
Would the ever-present Spirit, who wrote "Be ye angry" not understand?
Would the Master of patience and forbearance, who Himself showed
righteous anger, enter into it? Is the Great God, who sees these sheep
left without a shepherd, Himself angry? Surely it is well to ask?
"Oh, heavy lies the weight of ill on many hearts, And comforters are
needed sore of Christlike touch."
In this village I made inquiries for another servant and guide, and was
directed to "Timoteo, the very man." Liking his looks, and being able
to come to satisfactory terms, I engaged him as my second helper.
Timoteo had a sister called Salvadora (Saviour). She pounded corn in a
mortar with a hardwood pestle, and made me another baking of chipá,
with which we further burdened the pack-horse, and away we started
again, with affectionate farewells and tears, towards the unknown.
Next day we were joined by a traveller who was escaping to the
interior. He plainly declared himself as a murderer, and told us he had
shot one of the doctors in Asuncion. Through being well connected, he
had, after three weeks' detention in prison, been liberated, as he
boasted to us, _con todo buen nombre y fama (with good name and
report). The relatives of the murdered man, however, did not agree with
this verdict, and sought his life. During the day we shot an iguana,
and after a meal from its fat tail our new acquaintance, finding the
pace too slow for his hasty flight, left us, and I was not sorry. We
met a string of bullock carts, each drawn by six animals and having a
spare one behind. The lumbering wagons were on their way from the
Paraguayan máté fields, and had a load of over two thousand pounds
each. Jolting over huge tree-trunks, or anon sinking in a swamp,
followed by swarms of gad-flies, the patient animals wended their way.
Here and there one may see by the roadside a large wooden cross, with a
rudely carved wooden rooster on the top, while below it are the nails,
scourge, hammer, pincers and spear of gruesome crucifixion memory. At
other places there are smaller shrines with a statuette of the Virgin
inside, and candles invariably burning, provided by the generous
wayfarers. It is interesting to note that the old Indians had, at the
advent of the Spaniards, cairns of stones along their paths, and the
pious Indian would contribute a stone when he passed as an offering to
Pachacamac, who would keep away the evil spirits. That custom is still
kept up by the Christian (?) Paraguayan, with the difference that _now_
it is given to the Virgin. My guide would get down from his horse when
we arrived at these altars, and contribute a stone to the ever-growing
heap. If a specially bright one is offered, he told me it was more
gratifying to the goddess. Feeling that we were very likely to meet
with many _evil spirits_, Timoteo carefully sought for bright stones.
The people are _very_ religious, yet with it all are terribly depraved!
The truth is seldom spoken, and my guide was, unfortunately, no
exception to the rule. As we left the haunts of men, and difficulties
thickened, he would often entreat the help of Holy Mary, but in the
same breath would lie and curse!
Sighting a miserable hut, we called to inquire for meat. The master of
the house, I discovered, was a leper, and I further learned, on asking
if I might water my horses, that the nearest water was three miles
away. The man and wife and their large family certainly looked as
though water was a luxury too costly to use on the skin. The leper was
most hospitable, however; he killed a sheep for us, and we sat down to
a feast of mutton. After this we pushed on to water the horses. By
sunset we arrived at a cattle ranch near the river Ipané, and there we
stayed for the night. At supper all dipped in the same stew-pan, and
afterwards rinsed out the mouth with large draughts of water, which
they squirted back on the brick floor of the dining-room. The men then
smoked cigarettes of tobacco rolled in corn leaves, and the women
smoked their six-inch-long cigars. Finding that two of the men
understood Spanish, I read some simple parts of scripture to them by
the light of a dripping grease lamp. They listened in silence, and
wondered at the strange new story. The mosquitoes were so troublesome
that a large platform, twenty feet high, had been erected, and after
reading all the inmates of the house, with us, ascended the ladder
leading to the top. There the mosquitoes did not disturb us, so we
slept peacefully on our aerial roost between the fire-flies of the
earth and the stars of heaven.
Next day we came to a solitary house, where I noticed strings of meat
hung in the sun to dry. This is left, like so many stockings and
handkerchiefs, hanging there until it is hard as wood; it will then
keep for an indefinite time. There we got a good dinner of fresh beef,
and about ten pounds of the dried meat (_charqui_) to take away with
us. At this place I bought two more horses, and we each got a large
bullock's horn in which to carry water, swinging from the saddle-tree.
I was not sorry to leave this house, for, tearing up the offal around
the building, I counted as many as sixty black vultures. Their king, a
dirty white bird with crimson neck covered with gore and filth, had
already gorged himself with all the blood he could get. "All his sooty
subjects stand apart at a respectful distance, whetting their appetites
and regaling their nostrils, but never dreaming of an approach to the
carcass till their master has sunk into a state of repletion. When the
kingly bird, by falling on his side, closing his eyes, and stretching
on the ground his unclenched talons, gives notice to his surrounding
and expectant subjects that their lord and master has gone to rest, up
they hop to the carcass, which in a few minutes is stripped of
everything eatable." Here we left the high-road, which is cut through
to Punta Pona on the Brazilian frontier, and struck off to the west.
Over the grassy plains we made good progress, and by evening were
thirty miles farther on our journey. But when we had to cut the path
before us through the forest, ten or twelve miles was a good day's
work. When the growth was very dense, the morning and evening camps
were perhaps only separated by a league. Anon we struggled through a
swamp, or the horses stuck fast in a bog, and the _carapatas_ feasted
on our blood. "What are carapatas?" you ask. They are leeches, bugs,
mosquitos, gad-flies, etc., all compounded into one venomous insect!
These voracious green ticks, the size of a bug, are indeed a terrible
scourge. They fasten on the body in scores, and when pulled away,
either the piece of flesh comes with them or the head of the carapata
is torn off. _It was easy to pick a hundred of these bugs off the body
at night_, but it was _not_ easy to sleep after the ordeal! The poor
horses, brushing through the branches on which the ticks wait for their
prey, were sometimes _half covered with them!_
As we continued our journey, a house was a rare sight, and soon we came
to "the end of Christianity," as Timoteo said, and all civilization was
left behind. The sandy road became a track, and then we could no longer
follow the path, for there was none to follow. Timoteo had traversed
those regions before in search of the mate plant, however, and with my
compass I kept the general direction.
After about ten days' travel, during which time we had many reminders
that the flesh-pots had been left behind, _"Che cane o"_ (I am tired)
was frequently heard. Game was exceedingly scarce, and it was possible
to travel for days without sighting any animal or ostrich. We passed no
houses, and saw no human beings. For two days we subsisted on hard
Indian corn. Water was scarce, and for a week we were unable to wash.
Jiggers got into our feet when sleeping on the ground, and these caused
great pain and annoyance. Someone has described a jigger as "a cross
between Satan and a woodtick." The little insects lay their eggs
between the skin and flesh. When the young hatch out, they begin
feeding on the blood, and quickly grow half an inch long and cause an
intense itching. My feet were swollen so much that I could not get on
my riding-boots, and, consequently, my lower limbs were more exposed
than ever. If not soon cut out, the flesh around them begins to rot,
and mortification sometimes ensues.
On some of the savannas we were able to kill deer and ostrich, but they
generally were very scarce. Our fare was varied; sometimes we feaisted
on parrot pie or vultures eggs; again we lay down on the hard, stony
ground supperless. At such times I would be compelled to rise from time
to time and tighten up my belt, until I must have resembled one of the
ladies of fashion, so far as the waist was concerned. Again we came to
marshy ground, filled with royal duck, teal, water-hens, snipe, etc,
and forgot the pangs of past hunger. At such places we would fill our
horns and drink the putrid water, or take off our shirts and wash them
and our bodies. Mud had to serve for soap. Our washing, spread out on
the reeds, would soon dry, and off we would start for another stage.
The unpeopled state of the country was a constant wonder to me;
generations have disappeared without leaving a trace of their
existence. Sometimes I stopped to admire the pure white water-lilies
growing on stagnant black water, or the lovely Victoria Regia, the leaf
of which is at times so large as to weigh ten pounds. The flowers have
white petals, tinted with rose, and the centre is a deep violet. Their
weight is between two and three pounds.
Wherever we camped we lit immense fires of brushwood, and generally
slept peacefully, but with loaded rifle at arm's length.
A portion of land which I rode over while in that district must have
been just a thin crust covering a mighty cave. The horses' footfalls
made hollow sounds, and when the thin roof shook I half expected to be
precipitated into unknown depths.
After many weeks of varied experiences we arrived at or near the land I
was seeking. There, on the banks of a river, we struck camp, and from
there I made short excursions in all directions in order to ascertain
the approximate value of the old gentleman's estate. On the land we
came upon an encampment of poor, half or wholly naked Caingwa Indians.
By them we were kindly received, and found that, notwithstanding their
extremely sunken condition and abject poverty, they seemed to have
mandioca and bananas in abundance. In return for a few knives and
beads, I was able to purchase quite a stock. Seeing that all the
dishes, plates, and bottles they have grow in the form of gourds, they
imagine all such things we use also grow. It was amusing to hear them
ask for _seeds of the glass medicine bottles_ I carried with me.
A drum, ingeniously made by stretching a serpent's skin over a large
calabash, was monotonously beaten as our good-night lullaby when we
stretched ourselves out on the grass.
The Caingwa men all had their lower lip pierced, and hanging down over
the breast was a thin stick about ten inches long. Their faces were
also painted in strange patterns.
Learning from their chief that the royal tribe to which they originally
belonged lived away in the depths of the forest to the east, some moons
distant, I became curious. After repeated enquiries I was told that a
king ruled the people there, and that they daily worshipped the sun.
Hearing of these sun-worshippers, I determined, if possible, to push on
thither. The old chief himself offered to direct us if, in return, I
would give him a shirt, a knife, and a number of white beads. The
bargain was struck, and arrangements were made to start off at sunrise
next day, My commission was not only to see the old gentleman's land,
but to visit the surrounding Indians, with a view to missionary work
being commenced among them.
The morning dawned clear and propitious, but the chief had decided not
to go. On enquiring the reason for the change of mind, I discovered
that his people had been telling him that I only wanted to get him into
the forest in order to kill him, and that I would not give him the
promised shirt and beads. I thought that it was much more likely for
him to kill me than I him, and I set his mind at rest about the reward,
for on the spot I gave him the coveted articles. On receipt of those
luxuries his doubts of me fled, and I soon assured him that I had no
intention whatever of taking his life. Towards noon we started off,
and, winding our way through the Indian paths in single file, we again
soon left behind us all signs of man, and saw nothing to mark that any
had passed that way before.
That night, as we sat under a large silk-cotton tree silently eating
supper off plates of palm leaves, the old chief suddenly threw down his
meat, and, with a startled expression, said, "I hear spirits!" Never
having heard such ethereal visitors myself, I smiled incredulously,
whereupon the old savage glared at me, and, leaving his food upon the
ground went away out of the firelight into the darkness. Afraid that he
might take one of the horses and return to his people, I followed to
soothe him, but his offended mood did not pass until, as he said, the
_spirits_ had gone.
On the third day scarcity of water began to be felt. We had been slowly
ascending the rugged steeps of a mountain, and as the day wore on the
thirst grew painful. That night both we and the horses had to be
content with the dew-drops we sucked from the grass, and our dumb
companions showed signs of great exhaustion. The Indian assured me that
if we could push on we would, by next evening, come to a beautiful lake
in the mountains: so, ere the sun rose next morning, we were in the
saddle on our journey to the coveted water.
All that day we plodded along painfully, silently. Our lips were dried
together, and our tongues swollen. Thirst hurts! The horses hung their
heads and ears, and we were compelled to dismount and go afoot. The
poor creatures were getting so thin that our weight seemed to crush
them to the earth. The sun again set, darkness fell, and the lake was,
for all I could see, a dream of the chief, our guide. At night, after
repeating the sucking of the dew, we ate a little, drank the blood of
an animal, and tried to sleep. The patient horses stood beside us with
closed eyes and bowed heads, until the sight was more than I could
bear. Fortunately, a very heavy dew fell, which greatly helped us, and
two hours before sunrise next morning the loads were equally
distributed on the backs of the seven horses and we started off once
again through the mist for water! water! When the sun illuminated the
heavens and lit up the rugged peaks of the strangely shaped mountains
ahead of us, hope was revived. We sucked the fruit of the date palm,
and in imagination bathed and wallowed in the water--beautiful
water--we so soon expected to behold. The poor horses, however, not
buoyed up with sweet hopes as we were, gave out, one after the other,
and we were compelled to cruelly urge them on up the steep. With it
all, I had to leave two of the weaker ones behind, purposing, if God
should in kindness permit us to reach water, to return and save them.
That afternoon the Indian chief, who, though an old man, had shown
wonderful fortitude and endurance, and still led the way, shouted:
"_Eyoape! Eyoape!_" (Come! Come!) We were near the lake. With new-born
strength I left all and ran, broke through the brushwood of the shore,
jumped into the lake, and found--nothing but hard earth! The lake was
dried up! I dug my heel into the ground to see if below the surface
there might be soft mud, but failing to find even that, I dropped over
with the world dancing in distorted visions before my eyes. More I
cannot relate.
How long I lay there I never knew. The Indian, I learned later,
exploring a deep gully at the other side, found a putrid pool of slime,
full of poisonous frogs and alive with insects. Some of this liquid he
brought to me in his hands, and, after putting it in my mouth, had the
satisfaction of seeing me revive. I dimly remember that my next act was
to crawl towards the water-hole he guided me to. In this I lay and
drank. I suppose it soaked into my system as rain in the earth after a
drought. That stagnant pool was our salvation. The horses were brought
up, and we drank, and drank again. Not until our thirst was slaked did
we fully realize how the water stank! When the men were sufficiently
refreshed they returned for the abandoned horses, which were found
still alive. Had they scented water somewhere and drank? At the foot of
the mountains, on the other side, we later discovered much better
water, and there we camped, our horses revelling in the abundant
pasturage.
After this rest we continued our journey, and next day came to the edge
of a virgin forest. Through that, the chief said, we must cut our way,
for the royal tribe never came out, and were never visited. Close to
the edge of the forest was a deep precipice, at the bottom of which we
could discern a silvery streak of clear water. From there we must
procure the precious fluid for ourselves and horses. Taking our kettle
and horns, we sought the best point to descend, and after considerable
difficulty, clinging to the branches of the overhanging trees and the
dense undergrowth, we reached the bottom. After slaking our thirst we
ascended with filled horns and kettle to water the horses. As may be
supposed, this was a tedious task, and the descent had to be made many
times before the horses were satisfied. My hat served for watering pail.
Next morning the same process was repeated, and then the men, each with
long _machetes_ I had provided, set to work to cut a path through the
forest, and Old Stabbed Arm went off in search of game. After a two
hours' hunt, a fat ostrich fell before his rifle, and he returned to
camp. We still had a little chipá, which had by this time become as
hard as stone, but which I jealously guarded to use only in case of the
greatest emergency. At times we had been very hungry, but my order was
that it should not be touched.
Only the reader who has seen the virgin forest, with its interlacing
_lianas_, thick as a man's leg--the thorns six inches long and sharp as
needles--can form an idea of the task before us. As we penetrated
farther and farther in the _selva_, the darkness became deeper and
deeper. Giant trees reared their heads one hundred and fifty feet into
the heavens, and beautiful palms, with slender trunks and delicate,
feathery leaves, waved over us. The medicinal plants were represented
by sarsaparilla and many others equally valuable. There was the cocoa
palm, the date palm, and the cabbage palm, the latter of which
furnished us good food, while the wine tree afforded an excellent and
cooling drink. In parts all was covered with beautiful pendant
air-flowers, gorgeous with all the colors of the rainbow. Monkeys
chattered and parrots screamed, but otherwise there was a sombre
stillness. The exhalations from the depth of rotting leaves and the
decaying fallen wood rendered the steamy atmosphere most poisonous.
Truly, the flora was magnificent, and the fauna, represented by the
spotted jaguar, whose roar at times broke the awful quiet of the night,
was equally grand.
As the chief, ignorant of hours and miles, could not tell me the extent
of the forest, I determined to let him and Timoteo make their way
through as best they could, crawling through the branches, to the
Sun-Worshippers, and secure their help in cutting a way for the horses.
After dividing the food I had, we separated. Timoteo and the Indian
crept into the forest and were soon lost sight of, while Old Stabbed
Arm and I, with the horses, retraced our steps, and reached the open
land again. After an earnest conversation my companion shouldered his
rifle and went off to hunt, and I was left with only the companionship
of the grazing horses. I remained behind to water the animals, and
protect our goods from any prowling savage who might chance to be in
the neighborhood. My saddle-bed was spread under a large _burning
bush_, or incense tree, and my self-imposed duty was to keep a fire
burning in the open, that its smoke might be seen by day and its light
by night.
Going exploring a little, I discovered a much better descent down the
precipice, and water was more easily brought up. Indeed, I decided
that, if a certain deep chasm were bridged over, it might be possible
to get the horses themselves to descend by a winding way. With this
object in view I felled saplings near the place, and in a few hours
constructed a rough bridge, strong enough to bear a horse's weight.
Whether the animals could smell the water flowing at the bottom, or
were more agile than I had thought, I cannot tell, but they descended
the almost perpendicular path most wonderfully, and soon were taking
draughts of the precious liquid with great gusto. Leaving the horses to
enjoy their drink, I ascended the stream for some distance, in order to
discover, if possible, where the flow came from. Judge of my surprise
when I found that the water ran out of a grotto, or cavern, in the face
of the cliff-out of the unknown darkness into the sunlight! Walking up
the bed of the stream, I entered the cave, and, striking a few matches,
found it to be inhabited by hundreds of vampire bats, which were
hanging from the sides and stalactites of the roof, like so many damp,
black rags. On my entrance the unearthly creatures were disturbed, and
many came flying in my face, so I made a quick exit. Several which I
killed came floating down the stream with me; one that I measured
proved to be twenty-two inches across the wings. My exploration had
discovered the secret of the clots of blood we had been finding on the
horses' necks every morning. The vampire-bats, in their nightly
flights, had been sucking the life-blood of our poor, already starving
animals! It is said these loathsome creatures--half beast, half
bird--fan their victim to sleep while they drain out the red blood.
Provided with palm torches, I again entered the cavern, but could not
penetrate its depths; it seemed to go right into the bowels of the
mountain. Exploring down stream was more successful, for large
flamingoes and wild ducks and geese were found in plenty.
That night I carefully staked out the horses all around the camp-fire
and lay down to think and sleep and dream. Old Stabbed Arm had not
returned, and I was alone with nature. Several times I rose to see if
the horses were securely tied, and to kill any bats I might find
disturbing them. Rising in the grey dawn, I watered the horses, cooked
a piece of ostrich meat, and started off on foot for a short distance
to explore the country to the north, where I saw many indications that
tapirs were numerous. My first sight of this peculiar animal of
Paraguay I shall never forget. It resembles no other beast I have ever
seen, but seems half elephant, with its muzzle like a short trunk. In
size it is about six feet long and three and a half feet high. There
were also ant-bears, peculiar animals, without teeth, but provided with
a rough tongue to lick up the ants. The length of this animal is about
four feet, but the thick tail is longer than the body. Whereas the
tapir has a hog-like skin, the ant-bear has long, bristly hairs.
Returning to camp, judge of my surprise when I found it in possession
of two savages of strange appearance. My first thought was that I had
lost all, but, drawing nearer, I discovered that Timoteo and the chief
were also there, squatting on the ground, devouring the remains of my
breakfast. They had returned from the royal tribe, who had offered to
cut a way from their side, and these two strangers were to assist us.
With this additional help we again penetrated the forest. The men cut
with a will, and I drove the horses after them. Black, howling monkeys,
with long beards and grave countenances, leapt among the trees. Red and
blue macaws screeched overhead, and many a large serpent received its
death-blow from our machetes. Sometimes we were fortunate enough to
secure a bees' nest full of honey, or find luscious fruit. At times I
stopped to admire a giant tree, eight or ten feet in diameter, or
orchids of the most delicate hues, but the passage was hard and trying,
and the stagnant air most difficult to breathe. The fallen tree-trunks,
over which we had to step, or go around or under, were very numerous,
and sometimes we landed in a bed, not of roses, but of thorns. Sloths
and strange birds' nests hung from the trees, while the mosquitos and
insects made life almost unendurable. We were covered with carapatas,
bruised and torn, and almost eaten up alive with insects.
[Illustration: PARAGUAYAN FOREST INDIAN. These dwarf men use a very
long bow, while the Patagonian uses a short one]
Under the spreading branches of one of the largest trees we came upon
an abandoned Indian camp. This, I was told, had belonged to the "little
men of the woods," hairy dwarfs, a few of whom inhabit the depths of
the forest, and kill their game with blow-pipes. Of course we saw none
of the poor creatures. Their scent is as keen as an animal's; they are
agile as monkeys, and make off to hide in the hollow trunks of trees,
or bury themselves in the decaying vegetation until danger is past.
Poor pigmy! What place will he occupy in the life that is to be?