CROSSING THE EASTERN ANDES INTO THE CAQUETÁ
Of the many little-known places in South America, the least known
lie eastward of the eastern base of the Andes. One such region is
the Caquetá of Colombia. We had been considering the feasibility of
undertaking a trip into this country, but the departure for home of my
companion, Doctor Allen, and Mr. Lloyd, from San Agustin, left me alone
in the field, and I doubted the advisability of taking the journey
without their assistance. From all the information I could gather,
the crossing of the Eastern Range presented great difficulties and
would have to be accomplished on foot. The rainy season had set in,
adding to the difficulties of travel. Also, the rivers were swollen
to such an extent that there was danger of our being stopped at any
one of them; or, far worse, of being unable to recross them upon our
return. However, a nearer view invariably changes the perspective, so I
determined to approach the region as near as possible, gather all the
data available, and then follow the course that seemed best.
Accordingly, we bade a reluctant farewell to San Agustin one Sunday
morning. The entire village turned out to see us depart and gave
us numerous tokens of their good-will and friendship in the form
of embroidered handkerchiefs, panama hats, food, and pets. An old
Indian solemnly presented me with a small monkey, which he said could
cry if spanked thoroughly; he offered to give a demonstration of
the creature’s accomplishment, but I assured him that his word was
sufficient. A parrot was contributed by another person who said it
would be good company, as it “conversed” well. The _Vaya con Dios!_ of
these simple, honest folk was touching, and we took away with us only
the most pleasant memories and friendliest feeling.
After a three days’ ride through level plains and gently rolling
grasslands we forded the Rio Suaza and drew rein in the town of
Guadaloupe. It stands at the foot of the Cordillera Oriental. A trail
was being constructed from this point across the mountains and into
Amazonian drainage; however, work had little more than begun, and
the reports of the route we had from the villagers were not very
encouraging.
There was nothing of particular interest about the village. We moved
to a site known as La Danta three thousand five hundred feet up the
slope. There was abundant woods all around in which we hunted with good
results nearly three weeks.
One day a party of Indians made camp on the bank of a creek not
far from La Danta, and immediately built a rock and mud dam across
the little waterway. Then they crushed a great many leaves of the
yucca-plant and threw them into the stream. The milky juice quickly
mingled with the water, and soon scores of catfish came to the top,
stupefied by the poison, and floating on their backs. They were
gathered by the basketful and taken away by the Indians. These catfish,
living in rapid mountain streams, are provided with a sucking disk
which enables them to attach themselves to a rock to rest; otherwise
they would be washed down stream, as they are not very powerful
swimmers.
The cost of being married is so high in some South American countries
that in many cases the ceremony is dispensed with. Occasionally,
however, bands of missionaries visit a region and attempt to undo the
wrong inflicted by the local _padres_ by uniting in marriage free of
charge all those who appear before them for that purpose. The _padres_
are not always to blame; frequently the inhabitants are simply too
indifferent or lazy to go through the formalities, or there may be no
one in their midst to look after their spiritual wants.
While we were at La Danta a half-dozen priests came to Guadaloupe
and urged the _paisanos_ to take advantage of this opportunity to
become united in wedlock according to the ritual of the church. The
people listened to the exhortations, promised to heed the admonitions,
and--failed to show up at the proper time. Then the _padres_ lost
patience and talked the matter over with the _jefe_. The latter sent
out soldiers to scour the country and bring in all the offenders living
together within a radius of many miles; the pairs were frequently
brought in handcuffed together, all objections and excuses being
promptly overruled or ignored by the officiating clergy. Then they were
lined up and married.
Several weeks later I was the guest of a very high government official
in another state. In the course of dinner conversation the _señora_
asked me in the most casual way: “Tell me! In your country, do
people get married, or _así, no más_ like here?” The last phrase was
accompanied by a dainty snap of the fingers. I am afraid I said: “_Así,
no más!_”
From _peons_ working on the new road we learned that their operations
had extended to a point near the top of the range, and that a _tambo_,
or rest-shack, had been built there to shelter the laborers. We
immediately started for the place and by dint of hard travel reached
it in one day’s time. The shack bore the name Andalucia and was seven
thousand nine hundred feet up. The _peons_ gladly shared their quarters
with us, and we divided our rations with them, which must have been a
welcome change from their everlasting boiled corn and _panela_.
The weather at Andalucia was most severe; fog, strong wind, almost
continuous rain, and a freezing temperature reminded us of conditions
on a paramo at the worst season of the year. Also, the forest was
dense, and the vast number of fallen trunks and branches rendered the
greater part of it impenetrable. Birds were scarce and hard to find,
but small mammals were plentiful.
The foreman of the work gang had cleared a few acres of land and sowed
wheat, but the chances of harvesting a crop were very small, because
it seemed as if all the rats and mice for miles around had located the
spot and promptly migrated there to unearth the seed and cut down the
tender shoots.
Water for drinking and cooking was secured from a deep pit dug in the
slope. One of our first cares always is to investigate the water-supply
of the region in which we are working; an inspection of the excavation
near the _tambo_ revealed a most astounding state of affairs; three
earthworms, as large as good-sized snakes, make the reservoir their
home. They resembled the well-known “shiners” that appear on our lawns
after a shower; but the size! The largest, by actual measurement, was
thirty-seven inches long and four inches in circumference. When I
asked the cook for an explanation as to why he did not remove them and
keep the water clean, he promptly informed me that they were _cojures_
(cohoories) that he had dug up in the woods and placed there for
safe-keeping until he had time to use them on a fishing trip in the low
country. Needless to say, perhaps, his pets promptly disappeared; he
always insinuated that they had met with foul play at my hands!
One day a person of distinguished appearance rode up the road and
introduced himself as General Rafael Santos, of Bogotá. He had heard
that we were in the locality and wanted to get into the Caquetá. Could
he be of any service to us? As he was in control of the work being
done on the new trail, he certainly was in a position to be of great
help. He told us of conditions on the eastern slope and also of the
country we were so eager to see; before leaving, one of his _peons_
was despatched down the trail to inform his scouting-parties that we
would follow within a short time, and for them to have camping-places
prepared for us.
We lost no time in starting on the trip. I had with me several natives
who had been with the expedition some months, and their number was
augmented by men from Guadaloupe who were eager to have a hand in the
undertaking. Every one walked, the _peons_ carrying the packs; but
mules were driven ahead to test the trail, and also for use after we
reached the level low country.
The heavy subtropical forest that begins at La Danta continues on to
the top of the range, and down the other side in an unbroken mass of
solid, living green. There were practically no signs of life, but the
wind blew less violently and the cold was less intense and not so
penetrating as at Andalucia.
The slope is less abrupt than on the western side. On the second night
a palm-leaf lean-to called _El Paraiso_ was reached. The elevation was
two thousand four hundred and twenty-five feet. A number of bedraggled
and discontented laborers had erected this shelter and said they would
stay there without doing another stroke of work until their pay,
several months overdue, should arrive. Perhaps they are still camping
there, unless the prospect of starving to death forced them to move,
as we had heard several times that the foremen were in the habit of
drawing the money for all the men under them, and then decamping for
parts unknown.
Beyond “the paradise” the way lay through a region that might well be
called _El Infierno_. There was an unbroken succession of pools and
sinks so that we struggled onward hour after hour through water and
thin mud several feet deep. Contrary to our expectations, we had been
able to use the mules for very light packs on parts of the previous
day’s journey; but now they floundered and caused so much trouble, that
we heartily regretted not having left them behind.
On the following days the country was dotted with steep, rocky
foot-hills, alternated with deep, muddy depressions. Rain fell almost
continuously, but it served to keep away troublesome insects. The
_peons_ were cheerful withal and seemed to enjoy the experience in
spite of the hard work. However, it was with a feeling of relief that
we emerged from the mountainous country and entered a stretch of level
forest, the elevation of which was one thousand feet. From the edge of
this “plateau” we had our first view of the Caquetá--a perfect ocean of
forest stretching out ahead as far as the eye can see, which on clear
days is a distance of many miles. The sight is most impressive. Not a
single rise is visible above the uniform expanse of green, as the trees
appear to be all of the same height.
We stopped at the first native hut encountered, which was but a
ten-minute walk from the settlement of Florencia. There was a clearing
of considerable size; the greater part of it was overgrown with grass
and weeds, but there were also fields of cane and plantains. The latter
were the finest I have ever found in all South America--eighteen inches
long and sweeter and better flavored than the best bananas. It was
almost impossible to grow sugar-cane in any quantity; capibaras were
abundant along the streams and made nightly inroads on the plantation,
devastating large areas on each visit.
The great Amazonian forest extending on all sides was full of
surprising sounds emanating from a fauna entirely new to us. For the
first time we heard the clear, ringing whistle of the “false bell-bird”
(_Lathria cinerea_). The penetrating _whoo-ee-whee-oo_ filled the
woods with music as the birds called to one another, but the obscurely
colored singers were hard to see among the dark branches. The song
contains several low, _churring_ notes that are lost from a distance.
The abundance and variety of wild life was so great as to almost
bewilder us and we worked day and night preparing the wealth of
material that came into our hands. Working conditions were most
unfavorable; it rained daily; sand-flies took away a great deal of
the pleasure that each day brought in the form of new and interesting
creatures, while mosquitoes and fleas insisted on gaining an entrance
under the nets and making the nights disagreeable. Every member of the
expedition suffered from malaria during our entire stay in the Caquetá
region. Notwithstanding these handicaps, we lost not a single day, and
the collections rapidly grew to record-breaking size.
It was, of course, necessary to depend to a certain extent upon native
hunters. They were always carefully instructed as to the area they
should visit and how to work it; from the results they obtained I
could usually tell whether directions had been followed. One of these
_cazadores_ was a lazy, thoroughly good-natured half-breed named
_Abrán_. He came in daily with a tale of woe, recounting in detail
the great distance he had covered, the hardships of such a long tramp
through the jungle, and--bringing few specimens. I pretended to believe
his stories, knowing full well all the while that he had really
selected a comfortable spot a mile or so away and then settled down
on a log for a quiet day of smoking and day-dreaming. When any animal
came within sight he shot it. In this manner he secured many of the
shy, ground-haunting species, such as rails, tinamou, and ant-birds
that one seldom sees while moving about through the forest. This was
exactly what I wanted. It is all but impossible to find a native
hunter with patience enough to sit and wait for these things, so while
_Abrán_ thought he was playing an easy game, he was in reality the
most valuable _peon_ in the outfit. His brother _Moisés_ was of the
opposite temperament; he walked many miles each day and considered it
beneath his dignity to shoot anything but large, brilliantly colored
birds, such as parrots, macaws, cotingas, and tanagers, or monkeys--in
short, game worthy of a man’s efforts. The two brothers made an ideal
combination.
[Illustration: Tree-fern, typical of the Andean forests.]
_Moisés_ had spoken frequently about a marvellous bird called _tente_
which he said was found in the region, and of which he was determined
to secure one as a pet for the _patrón_. One day he brought in a
queer, frightened little creature--all legs and neck--that he proudly
introduced as the _tente_. It was a young trumpeter (_Psophia_). After
being tied up a few days it grew very tame and was given full
liberty about the place. It walked slowly and in dignified fashion,
catching flies and pecking at insects on the ground or walls; but if a
dog should chance to pass near by it darted at it with outspread wings,
making a loud, rumbling sound deep down in its breast; the dog always
fled in terror. The bird increased rapidly in size and before long
the beautiful metallic-blue throat-feathers appeared. When we emerged
from the hammocks in the early mornings it was always there to greet
us with low bows, spread wings, and deep murmurings. In travelling, a
large-meshed fibre bag served as its container; upon being turned loose
when camp was made, it first carefully dried its plumage before the
fire, then strutted around a while, and finally flew into the branches
of the nearest tree to spend the night. We kept this interesting
little pet until our departure from Colombia, and then gave it to an
acquaintance in Neiva, where it was well cared for.
A colony of cultivator-ants had taken possession of a patch of young
_cecropia_-trees near the house. They carried particles of earth to
the branches and formed them into large balls in which the seeds of a
succulent plant were sowed and cultivated. The earth was kept loose
and moistened and the bunch of tender shoots resembled a clump of
mistletoe. In this manner an abundant food-supply was assured.
Florencia was a small village of adobe and bamboo huts, built in
anticipation of the opening of Colombian Amazonia, when the new trail
across the Andes should be completed. The region is undoubtedly rich
in natural resources, and there seemed to be a possibility that the
dreams of these pioneer settlers might some day be fulfilled. However,
five years later, while aboard the S. S. _Vauban_, bound for New York,
I chanced to meet among the passengers a Colombian with whom I had
become acquainted in Florencia. He stated that the climate there had
proved so unhealthful that most of the people had died or gone away and
the settlement was all but deserted. The elevation of the site, though
thousands of miles from the Atlantic Ocean, into which its rivers
drain, is only six hundred and seventy-five feet.
During our stay in the vicinity we had occasion to witness a
celebration of the feast of San Juan. On the eve of the festival a pig
was slaughtered in each hut; those who had none went into the jungle
and shot a wild one. The dressed carcass was placed in an oblong wooden
bowl, surrounded with plantains, yuccas, and yams, and then baked four
hours in a mud oven. The roasts were delicious and every one ate until
not a morsel remained, which was far into the night. Next day the
_fiesta_ proper began with a bull-fight, local talent, shirtless and in
tattered drawers, supplying the places of the gorgeous _toreadores_,
_banderilleros_, and _matadores_. This was a fine chance for the youths
to display their courage to the weaker sex, which had gathered _en
masse_ to witness the performance, and, if one enjoys such spectacles,
he would doubtless say that the showing made was quite creditable.
The men charged the bull, flourishing their bright-colored ponchos,
and when the animal turned the tables and chased them they fled to
shelter, as is the custom of the profession. We did not remain to see
the finish, but later in the day the women were roasting chunks of beef
over open fires. The merrymaking continued for several days, and the
latter part of the period consisted in drinking _aguardiente_, with
the resultant fighting that always marks the wind-up of such affairs.
The _alcalde_ was a leading spirit in the activities of the festive
occasion; he had been a priest at one time, but was excommunicated for
preaching sermons of too liberal a nature. Then he married and was
rearing a family. He told us that he owned a ranch called La Morelia,
two days’ distant from Florencia, and offered to send us there; so
we accepted his courtesy with pleasure, as we were eager to see the
country farther in the interior.
A faintly defined footpath led to La Morelia. The forest is
comparatively open, that is, free from dense undergrowth. The trees are
tall and there are a few tree-ferns and palms; many climbing lilies
and other epiphytes grow on the trunks and branches. Moss is lacking;
near the streams bamboo, wild cane, high grass, and briars, united by
creepers, form dense jungles that are hard to penetrate. Streams and
rivers are numerous and we were at once impressed with their size and
depth. Crossings were effected in dugout canoes. While the current
is swift, the waterways are so silent that one is not aware of their
existence until reaching their very borders.
We saw little of the Huitoto Indians inhabiting this district. They
seem to remain in seclusion in their forest homes and rarely venture
into the path of the settlers. Those we encountered were of low
stature, yellow in color, and had features so nearly resembling the
Japanese that they might be easily mistaken for that race. They are of
a shy and retiring disposition. Their ornaments were very elaborate,
consisting of anklets, amulets, and necklaces of colored seeds and
jaguar and monkey teeth, skilfully wrought into pleasing combinations.
The hut at La Morelia was of large dimensions, built entirely of
bamboo, with palm-leaf roof. An unusual feature was that it contained
two stories, the lower used to store grain and plantains, the upper
serving as living quarters. A clearing about one hundred acres in
extent surrounded it; most of it was grass-covered, providing pasturage
for a few head of cattle, the remainder was under cultivation. The
several acres that had been given to growing plantains produced so
abundantly that hundreds of bunches were going to waste. If left to
mature on the plant the fruit bursts and is destroyed by insects. The
choicest clusters were cut green and then placed in a down-stairs
room of the house to ripen. At night hundreds of small bats visited
the enclosure to feed on the mountain of rapidly yellowing fruit.
We desired some of the creatures for our collections, but found it
difficult to catch or shoot them in sufficient numbers. Finally we
evolved the plan of suspending a fish-net from the ceiling and tacking
out the edges so that it formed a cone with a wide base. A choice
bunch of the ripest plantains was placed in the centre for bait. Bats
soon gathered about the trap in swarms. At first they were suspicious
and circled around the net without attempting to alight; but as their
hunger increased so their caution decreased in like proportion, and
before long they were striking the conical arrangement from all sides
and madly endeavoring to scramble through the small meshes. Some
succeeded in forcing their way through the openings and immediately
fell upon the bait with ravenous appetites; the vast majority, however,
became helplessly entangled in the meshes. Newcomers arrived in a
steady stream; they paid no attention to our presence nor to the
lights we carried, but frantically hurled themselves into the midst of
their struggling brethren, until the net was covered with screeching,
scrambling masses.
The house was within a stone’s throw of the Rio Bodoquera--a stream
two hundred yards wide. One night a jaguar attacked the cattle and
chased them on to a sand-spit that projected out into the stream. We
heard the mad bellowing of the frightened animals as they stampeded
past the shack, hotly pursued by the snarling jaguar. A few shots
sufficed to frighten the big spotted cat back into the jungle, but
the cattle refused to leave the strategic position to which they had
retreated. The river was rising rapidly, endangering the panic-stricken
creatures. Every hand turned out; we took lanterns with us and, manning
the canoes, paddled to the far side of the peninsula and attempted to
drive them back to the mainland. All our efforts were in vain. The work
was very exciting, as enraged members of the herd charged the lights
repeatedly when we approached close to them. Finally the water became
so deep that the animals had to swim, and then they made for the far
side of the river and disappeared from view. It took several days to
round them up, but a number were never seen again.
[Illustration: The high, flat-topped panorama of the Andes.]
One day a Franciscan priest stopped at the _rancho_ for a short rest.
He was engaged in opening a trail to Mocoa. About twenty _peons_
accompanied him, carrying his outfit. His robe was in tatters and his
feet were bare; he had spent months in the jungles and showed the
effects of hard usage. Each of his men carried an animal of some kind
on top of his pack. There were monkeys, parrots, macaws, and a curious
little creature belonging to the agouti family (_Myoprocta_) that
they called _tin-tin_. We had seen numbers of the latter along the
river-bank, where they lived in burrows. The flesh is white and of fine
flavor. In spite of the hardships the priest and his party had endured
they were in the best of humor, and after an hour’s halt shouldered
their packs and resumed the march. No one will dispute the fact that
men of this type have done a great deal toward exploring unknown parts
of South America; usually they are the real trail-breakers and lead the
way for the pioneer settlers who are to follow.
The bird-life of the Caquetá is typical of the Amazonian forest, and
many of the species are found on the lower river two thousand miles
away. This is caused by the uniformity of topographical conditions, and
the lack of a barrier that would interfere with the range of a species.
On all of our visits to the headwaters of the Amazon’s tributaries,
in Colombia, Bolivia, and Brazil, a large proportion of the mammals
collected were new to science and differed greatly from those found
lower down the river’s course. Such large animals as spider-monkeys
(_Ateleus_), “flying” monkeys (_Pithecia_), and cats represented forms
heretofore unknown to science; the smaller mammals also were new in
many instances. Of course, we must not lose sight of the fact that
the power of flight gives greater mobility to the birds and accounts
for the wider range of some of them, but not for the equally vast
distribution of the ground-inhabiting and almost flightless species.
After a strenuous three weeks at La Morelia we returned to our first
stopping-place near Florencia. The rainy season was at its worst, and
low clouds covered the forest day after day, while torrents of water
fell almost continuously. The journey back to Guadaloupe was far more
difficult than had been our entrance into the region, for the greater
part of it lay up-hill and mud and water had accumulated in spots until
it was waist-deep. The cold grew more intense as we neared the top of
the range. We were never warm or dry until we reached our destination.
The maximum time allowed for work in Colombia had expired. Although I
had spent over eighteen months in the republic, they had flown all too
rapidly, and I heartily regretted that it was not possible to visit the
numerous other places that invited exploration. The next best thing
was to hope for a return trip in the future--a hope that was realized
several years later in our expedition to the Antioquian Highlands.
The homeward trip was accomplished without noteworthy incident. At
first there was a ride of five days’ duration down the desert-like
valley of the Magdalena to Neiva. The river is not navigable in this
part of its course on account of rapids and shallow water. At Neiva
a _champán_, or flat-bottomed freight-boat, was secured. The crew of
twenty men rowed it down to Giradot in three days; it takes them thirty
days to pull the craft back up-stream to the starting-point.
The remainder of the journey to Puerto Colombia was merely a matter of
travel on river-steamers and train, and required two weeks’ time.
In summarizing the work of the expedition to the Caquetá, Doctor
Chapman, in “The Distribution of Bird Life in Colombia,” writes as
follows:
This “work during the rainy season in the humid Amazonian forests of
the Caquetá, where with only unskilled native assistance he secured
eight hundred and thirty birds and mammals in thirty days, is a feat
in tropical collecting.” And “this locality ... was one of the most
productive of any visited by American Museum expeditions, and many
species were secured which have not heretofore been recorded from
Colombia.”