CHAPTER IV.

MEXIANA AND MARAJÓ.

Visit to Olería—Habits of Birds—Voyage to

Mexiana—Arrival—Birds—Description of the

Island—Population—Slaves, their treatment and habits—Journey to

the Lake—Beautiful stream—Fish and Birds at the Lake—Catching

Alligators—Strange sounds, and abundance of Animal Life—Walk

back—Jaguar meat—Visit to Jungcal in Marajo—Embarking cattle—Ilha

das Frechas.

Soon after our return to Pará, my hand became so much inflamed, that I

was obliged to put my arm in a sling, and go to a doctor, under whose

treatment I remained a fortnight, unable to do anything, not even pin

an insect, and consequently rather miserable. As I intended, as soon as

possible, going to the great island of Marajo, in search of some of the

curious and rare water-birds which abound there, I obtained permission

from Mr. C., an English gentleman, to visit his cattle estates; but as

there was no canoe going there for some weeks, I spent the interim at

Olería, where M. Borlaz kindly offered me a room and a place at his

table.

I found plenty of occupation in procuring specimens of the various

small birds, and making myself acquainted with their habits. None were

more abundant, both in species and individuals, than the bush-shrikes,

which are all remarkable for the same kind of falling note I have

already alluded to, though each one has some slight peculiarity by

which it may be distinguished. They generally hide themselves in the

very thickest and most impenetrable bushes, where it is impossible to

see them except by creeping up within a distance of two yards, when it

is difficult to shoot, without blowing them to pieces. They are small

birds with very loose, long, silky feathers, prettily banded or spotted

with black and white, and are constantly hopping about the bushes and

twigs, picking off whatever small insects they fall in with.

The ant-thrushes are another closely allied group, which are equally

abundant. They have stronger legs and very short tails, and walk more

on the ground, picking up insects, especially ants, very much after the

manner of poultry. When one is shot, it is often a dangerous matter

to go and fetch it, for the ground generally swarms with ants, which

attack an intruder most unmercifully both with stings and jaws. Many

times, after a fruitless attempt, have I been obliged to leave the dead

body on the field, and beat an inglorious retreat.

In all works on Natural History, we constantly find details of the

marvellous adaptation of animals to their food, their habits, and

the localities in which they are found. But naturalists are now

beginning to look beyond this, and to see that there must be some

other principle regulating the infinitely varied forms of animal

life. It must strike every one, that the numbers of birds and insects

of different groups, having scarcely any resemblance to each other,

which yet feed on the same food and inhabit the same localities, cannot

have been so differently constructed and adorned for that purpose

alone. Thus the goatsuckers, the swallows, the tyrant flycatchers, and

the jacamars, all use the same kind of food, and procure it in the

same manner: they all capture insects on the wing, yet how entirely

different is the structure and the whole appearance of these birds! The

swallows, with their powerful wings, are almost entirely inhabitants of

the air; the goatsuckers, nearly allied to them, but of a much weaker

structure, and with largely developed eyes, are semi-nocturnal birds,

sometimes flying in the evening in company with the swallows, but most

frequently settling on the ground, seizing their prey by short flights

from it, and then returning to the same spot. The fly-catchers are

strong-legged, but short-winged birds, which can perch, but cannot fly

with the ease of the swallows: they generally seat themselves on a bare

tree, and from it watch for any insects which may come within reach

of a short swoop, and which their broad bills and wide gape enable

them to seize. But with the jacamars this is not the case: their bills

are long and pointed—in fact, a weak kingfisher’s bill—yet they have

similar habits to the preceding: they sit on branches in open parts

of the forest, from thence flying after insects, which they catch on

the wing, and then return to their former station to devour them. Then

there are the trogons, with a strong serrated bill, which have similar

habits; and the little humming-birds, though they generally procure

insects from the flowers, often take them on the wing, like any other

fissirostral bird.

What birds can have their bills more peculiarly formed than the ibis,

the spoonbill, and the heron? yet they may be seen side by side,

picking up the same food from the shallow water on the beach; and

on opening their stomachs, we find the same little crustacea and

shell-fish in them all. Then among the fruit-eating birds, there are

pigeons, parrots, toucans, and chatterers,—families as distinct and

widely separated as possible,—which yet may be often seen feeding all

together on the same tree; for in the forests of South America, certain

fruits are favourites with almost every kind of fruit-eating bird. It

has been assumed by some writers on Natural History, that every wild

fruit is the food of some bird or animal, and that the varied forms and

structure of their mouths may be necessitated by the peculiar character

of the fruits they are to feed on; but there is more of imagination

than fact in this statement: the number of wild fruits furnishing food

for birds is very limited, and birds of the most varied structure and

of every size will be found visiting the same tree.

Insects were now more abundant than ever, and new kinds were met with

almost every day. Lovely little butterflies, spangled with gold, or

glittering with the most splendid metallic tints, hid themselves under

leaves or expanded their wings in the morning sun; while the larger and

more majestic kinds flew lazily along the shaded forest paths. The more

sombre _Hesperidæ_ were the most abundant, and it would often happen

that, of a dozen specimens taken in a day’s excursion, no two were

alike.

At length the canoe, for which I had been waiting, was ready to sail;

and on the 3rd of November we left Pará, for the island of Mexiana,

situated in the main stream of the Amazon, between the great island of

Marajó and the northern shore. We had to go down the Pará river, and

round the eastern point of Marajó, where we were quite exposed to the

ocean; and, though most of the time in fresh water, I was very sea-sick

all the voyage, which lasted four days. The canoe was intended for the

conveyance of cattle, and therefore had no particular accommodation for

human passengers. There was certainly a little cabin, with two berths

just five feet long, but not at all suitable for me (I am six feet two

inches high), so I preferred the hold. Our crew consisted of eight

young Tapuyas,—fine active fellows, from fifteen to twenty years of

age. Each wore a tight-fitting pair of trousers and a very short shirt,

so that six inches of red skin appeared between the two garments. The

shrouds of the canoe consisted of the stay-ropes only, without any

rattlins or cross-steps, yet up these they would run like monkeys,

holding on with their toes.

The island of Mexiana is about twenty-five miles long by twelve broad,

of a regular oval shape, and is situated exactly on the equator. It

is quite flat, and is all _campo_, or open ground, but dotted with

scattered trees and bushes, and with a little forest at the water’s

edge. It is celebrated for its birds, alligators, and onças, and is

used as a cattle estate by the proprietor. The alligators abound in

a lake in the centre of the island, where they are killed in great

numbers for their fat, which is made into oil.

I was accompanied by Mr. Yates, a collector of Orchids, who, after a

few weeks’ stay, not finding much variety of those plants, returned to

Pará. On our arrival we were received by Senhor Leonardo, a German,

who is the overseer, to whom we presented our letter from Mr. C. We

were then shown the rooms we were to occupy in the house, which is

spacious and has an upper story; and having got our luggage on shore,

we soon made ourselves at home. Round the house are a good many orange

and mango trees, behind which is a row of cottages, where reside the

_vaqueiros_ or herdsmen, who are mostly Negroes and slaves; and beyond,

as far as the eye can reach, is the flat campo, dotted over with cattle

and horses.

On inquiring about the best localities for insects, birds, and plants,

we were rather alarmed by being told that onças were very numerous,

even near the house, and that it was dangerous to walk out alone or

unarmed. We soon found however that no one had been actually attacked

by them; though they, poor animals, are by no means unmolested, as

numerous handsome skins drying in the sun, and teeth and skulls lying

about, sufficiently proved. There is no doubt but they are unpleasant

animals to encounter, and their teeth and claws are so fearfully

adapted to destroy whatever may come within their reach, that it is

much better to be a little cautious, than to run any risk: I therefore

put half-a-dozen bullets in my game-bag, in case of an encounter.

Some of the horses and cattle were miserable-looking objects, from

wounds inflicted by the bats, which cause them to lose much blood, and

sometimes, by successive attacks, kill them. Senhor Leonardo informed

us that they particularly abounded in some parts of the island, and

that he often has bat-hunts, when several thousand are killed. It is

a large species, of a coffee-brown colour, probably the _Phyllostoma

hastatum_.

The morning after my arrival I took my gun, and walked out to see what

sport the island afforded. First going to a tree near the house, which

Senhor Leonardo pointed out to me, I found numerous humming-birds

fluttering about the leaves (which were still wet with dew), and

seeming to wash and cool themselves with the moisture: they were of

a blue and green colour, with a long forked tail (_Campylopterus

hirundinaceus_). Walking on in the campo, I found abundance of Bemteví

flycatchers, cuckoos, and tanagers, and also shot a buzzard and a black

eagle different from any I had seen at Pará. Insects were very scarce,

owing to the dryness of the season and the absence of forest; so I

soon gave up collecting them, and attended entirely to birds, which

were rather plentiful, though not very rare or handsome. In ten days I

obtained seventy specimens, among which were fourteen hawks and eagles,

several herons, egrets, paroquets, woodpeckers, and one of the large

yellow-billed toucans (_Rhamphastos Toco_), which are not found at Pará.

Having made several excursions for some miles into the interior of

the island and along the coast, I obtained a tolerable idea of its

geography. It is everywhere a perfect flat, the greatest elevations

being a very few feet. Along the shore in most places, and extending

along the banks of the creeks inland, is a belt of forest, varying in

width from a hundred yards to half a mile, containing a few palms and

lofty trees, and abundance of bamboos and climbers, rendering it almost

impassable. The whole of the interior is campo, or open plain, covered

with a coarse herbage, and in places sprinkled with round-headed palms,

and with low branching trees bearing a profusion of yellow flowers.

Scattered about, at intervals of a few miles, are clumps of trees and

bushes, some very small, but others sufficiently extensive to form

little forests. These are generally known as “ilhas,” or islands,

and many of them have separate names, as, “Ilha do São Pedro,” “Ilha

dos Urubus.” In the wet season a great part of the island appears to

be flooded, and dead crabs and fresh-water shells are found a long

way inland: these groves are then probably real islands, though not

perceptibly above the general level.

A phenomenon, which is seen on the banks of the Mississippi and most

other rivers which overflow their banks, also occurs here. The land

is highest near the water’s edge, and gradually falls inland, caused

by the heavier sediment being deposited during floods at the shortest

distance, while the lighter matter only is carried inland, and spread

over a larger area. The surface of the campos is very uneven for

walking, being in little clumps or hillocks, so that it is equally

tiresome and fatiguing to walk on their summits or between them. The

stems of the palms were all covered with orchideous plants, but they

had now generally neither leaves nor flowers, and seemed to be of very

little variety of species. In the marshy places shrubby convolvuli are

abundant, and in others are large beds of cassias and mimosas, while

scattered among them are many delicate little flowers.

Long-tailed, light-coloured cuckoos were continually flying about from

tree to tree, uttering their peculiar note, not at all like that of our

cuckoo, but more like the creaking of a rusty hinge, which the name

given to them, _Carerú_, is intended to resemble. Equally abundant

are the black hornbill cuckoos, called Anús; and on almost every tree

may be seen sitting a hawk or buzzard, the variety of which is very

great, as in a few weeks I obtained eight different kinds. Pretty

paroquets, with white and orange bands on their wings, and others with

an orange-coloured crown, were very plentiful, and it was amusing to

watch the activity with which they climbed about over the trees, and

how suddenly and simultaneously they flew away when alarmed. Their

plumage is so near the colour of the foliage, that it is sometimes

impossible to see them, though you may have watched a whole flock enter

a tree, and can hear them twittering overhead, when, after gazing until

your patience is exhausted, they will suddenly fly off with a scream of

triumph.

Then among the bushes there were flocks of the beautiful red-breasted

oriole, _Icterus militaris_; but they were unfortunately not in good

plumage at the time of my visit. The common black vulture is generally

to be seen sailing overhead, or seated on some dead tree; and great

Muscovy ducks fly past with a rushing sound, like some great aerial

machine beating the air violently to support its ponderous body, and

offering a striking contrast to the great wood-ibis, which sails along

with noiseless wings in flocks of ten or a dozen. In the skirt of

forest and in the larger “ilhas,” black and spotted jaguars are often

found, while pacas, cotias, tatus or armadillos, deer, and other small

game are plentiful.

The whole population of the island consists of about forty persons, of

whom twenty are slaves, and the remainder free Indians and Negroes in

the employ of the proprietors. These are all engaged in attending to

the cattle and horses on the island, which vary in number, and were

much more numerous three or four years ago; the horses in particular

having been almost exterminated by a disease which suddenly appeared

among them. There were now about fifteen hundred head of cattle,

besides a great number of wild ones, which keep in the remote parts

of the island, and four hundred horses. The slaves and labourers are

allowed farinha only; but they can cultivate Indian corn and vegetables

for themselves, and have powder and shot given them for hunting, so

that they do not fare so badly. They also have tobacco allowed them,

and most of them earn money by making baskets or other trifles, or

by killing onças, the skin being worth from five to ten shillings.

Besides attending to the cattle and horses, they have to build houses

and corrals, to hunt alligators for oil, and kill bats, which do great

injury to the cattle by sucking their blood night after night. The bats

live in holes in trees, where they are killed in considerable numbers,

Senhor Leonardo informing me that they had destroyed about seven

thousand during the last six months. Many hundreds of cattle are said

to have been killed by them in a few years.

The slaves appeared contented and happy, as slaves generally do. Every

evening at sunset they came to bid good-night to Senhor Leonardo and

myself, a similar salutation taking place when they first met us in the

morning. If one goes out for the day to any distance, he bids adieu

to all he may meet, as if he were parting from his dearest friends on

the eve of a long journey; contrasting strongly with the apathy of the

Indian, who scarcely ever exhibits any feelings of regret on parting,

or of pleasure on his return. In the evening they play and sing in

their own houses: their instrument is a homemade guitar, from which

they obtain three or four notes, which are repeated for hours with the

most wearisome monotony. To this music they join an extempore song,

generally relating to some events of the day; and the doings of the

“brancos,” or white people, have often a considerable share in it.

Many of them keep fowls and ducks, which they sell, to buy any little

luxuries they may require, and they often go fishing to supply the

house, when they have a share for themselves.

Every Saturday evening they meet for Divine service, which is performed

in a room fitted up as a chapel, with an altar gaily decorated with

figures of the Virgin and Child, and several saints painted and gilt

in a most brilliant manner. Some of these figures are the work of

Senhor Leonardo, who is an excellent self-taught carver; and when the

candles are lit, and all is in order, the effect is equal to that of

many village churches. Two of the oldest Negroes conduct the service,

kneeling at the altar; the rest kneel or stand about the room. What

they chant is, I believe, part of the vesper service of the Roman

Catholic Church, and all join in the responses with much fervour,

though without understanding a word. Sunday is their own day, for

working in their gardens, hunting, or idleness, as they choose; and in

the evening they often assemble in the verandah to dance, and sometimes

keep it up all night.

While I was on the island a child of a few weeks old was to be

baptized. This they consider a most important ceremony; so the father

and mother, with godfathers and godmothers, set out in a canoe for

Chaves, on the island of Marajó, the nearest place where there is a

priest. They were absent three days, and then returned with the news

that the Padre was ill, and could not perform the ceremony; so they

were obliged to bring back the poor little unsanctified creature,

liable, according to their ideas, should it die, to eternal perdition.

The same evening they sang for three hours to their usual music the

whole history of their journey, judging from the portions which were

here and there intelligible.

They made every fact into a verse, which was several times repeated.

Thus one would suddenly burst out—

“The Padre was ill, and could not come,

The Padre was ill, and could not come.”

CHORUS.

“The Padre was ill, and could not come.”

Then for a time the music continued without the voices, while they were

trying to find another fact to found a verse upon. At length some one

continued the subject:—

“He told us to come the next day,

To see if he was better.”

CHORUS.

“He told us to come the next day,

To see if he was better.”

And so on to the end of the history, which struck me as being probably

very similar to the unwritten lays of the ancient bards, who could

thus make well-known facts interesting by being sung to music in an

appropriate and enthusiastic manner. In a warlike nation, what more

would at first be necessary than to relate the bold deeds of the

warriors, the discomfiture of the enemy, and the trophies of victory,

in order to raise the enthusiasm of the audience to the highest pitch?

Some of these would be handed down from generation to generation, the

language improved, and when they came to be reduced to writing, rhyme

would be added, and a regular poem constructed.

Having now arrived at the height of the dry season, and the waters of

the lake before mentioned being sufficiently low, the German steward

informed me that he should make an excursion there to kill alligators,

and I determined to accompany him. There are two ways to reach the

place—overland in nearly a direct line, or round to the other side

of the island in a boat and up a stream, which can be ascended to

within a few miles of the lake, with which indeed in the wet season it

communicates. The tide served for the boat to start about midnight, and

I decided on going in it, as I thought I should thus see more of the

island. The overseer was to go by land in the morning. Being roused

up at midnight, I got into the canoe with three Negroes, and tried to

compose myself for a nap as well as I could upon the baskets of farinha

and salt with which it was loaded. It was a large clumsy canoe, and

with a sail and the tide we went on pretty well; but as morning dawned

we got out rather far from land into the ocean-like river, and the

swell beginning to be disagreeable, I arose from my uneven couch very

qualmish and uncomfortable.

However, about ten o’clock we reached the mouth of the igaripé, or

small stream we were to ascend, and I was very glad to get into still

water. We staid for breakfast in a little clear space under a fine

tree, and I enjoyed a cup of coffee and a little biscuit, while the

men luxuriated on fish and farinha. We then proceeded up the stream,

which was at its commencement about two hundred yards wide, but soon

narrowed to fifty or eighty. I was much delighted with the beauty of

the vegetation, which surpassed anything I had seen before: at every

bend of the stream some new object presented itself,—now a huge cedar

hanging over the water, or a great silk cotton-tree standing like a

giant above the rest of the forest. The graceful assaí palms occurred

continually, in clumps of various sizes, sometimes raising their stems

a hundred feet into the air, or bending in graceful curves till they

almost met from the opposite banks. The majestic murutí palm was also

abundant, its straight and cylindrical stems like Grecian columns,

and with its immense fan-shaped leaves and gigantic bunches of fruit,

produced an imposing spectacle. Some of these bunches were larger than

any I had before seen, being eight or ten feet in length, weighing

probably two or three hundredweight: each consisted of several bushels

of a large reticulated fruit. These palms were often clothed with

creepers, which ran up to the summits, and there put forth their

blossoms. Lower down, on the water’s edge, were numerous flowering

shrubs, often completely covered with convolvuluses, passion-flowers,

or bignonias. Every dead or half-rotten tree was clothed with parasites

of singular forms, or bearing beautiful flowers, while smaller palms,

curiously-shaped stems, and twisting climbers, formed a background in

the interior of the forest.

Nor were there wanting animated figures to complete the picture.

Brilliant scarlet and yellow macaws flew continually overhead, while

screaming parrots and paroquets were passing from tree to tree in

search of food. Sometimes from a branch over the water were suspended

the hanging nests of the black and yellow troupial (_Cassicus

icteronotus_), into which those handsome birds were continually

entering. The effect of the scene was much heightened by the river

often curving to one side or the other, so as to bring to view a

constant variety of objects. At every bend we would see before us a

flock of the elegant white heron, seated on some dead tree overhanging

the water; but as soon as we came in sight of them, they would take

flight, and on passing another bend we would find them again perched

in front of us, and so on for a considerable distance. On many of the

flowering shrubs gay butterflies were settled, and sometimes on a muddy

bank a young alligator would be seen comfortably reposing in the sun.

We continued our journey thus for several hours, the men rowing

vigorously, for fear of the tide turning against us before we reached

our destination: this however happened just as we entered a narrower

part of the stream. The scenery was now much more gloomy; the tall

trees closed overhead so as keep out every sunbeam. The palms twisted

and bent in various contortions, so that we sometimes could hardly pass

beneath, and sunken logs often lay across from bank to bank, compelling

us to get out of the canoe, and use all our exertions to force it over.

Our progress was therefore very slow, and the stream was every minute

running stronger against us. Here was a building-place for various

aquatic birds: the wood-ibis and numerous cranes and herons had their

nests on the summits of the lofty trees over the water, while lower

down was the station chosen by the boat-bill. There was a continual

rustle and flapping of wings as these long-legged, clumsy birds flew

about, startled at our approach; and when I shot one of the large

wood-ibises, the confusion was at its height. Numerous kingfishers were

continually passing up and down, or darting from some dead stick into

the water to seize their prey.

After about two hours of very hard and disagreeable work, we reached

the landing-place, where there was an old deserted cottage, and the

overseer and several Negroes with horses were waiting to convey the

provisions we had brought, to the Lake. We immediately set off on

foot over an extensive plain, which was in places completely bare,

and in others thinly clothed with low trees. There could not be a

greater contrast than between the scene we had just left, and that

which we now entered upon. The one was all luxuriance and verdure,

the other as brown and barren as could be,—a dreary waste of marsh,

now parched up by the burning sun, and covered with tufts of a wiry

grass, with here and there rushes and prickly sensitive plants, and

a few pretty little flowers occasionally growing up among them. The

trees, which in some places were abundant, did not much diminish the

general dreariness of the prospect, for many of the leaves had fallen

off owing to the continued drought, and those that were left were brown

and half-shrivelled. The ground was very disagreeable for walking,

being composed of numerous little clumps and ridges, placed so closely

together that you could neither step securely upon nor between them:

they appeared to be caused by the rains and floods in the wet season

washing away the earth from between the roots of the grass-tufts, the

whole being afterwards hardened by the excessive heat of the sun, and

the grass almost entirely burnt away.

After walking over four or five miles of such ground, we arrived at the

Lake just as it was getting dark. The only building there was a small

shed without any walls, under which we hung our hammocks, while the

Negroes used the neighbouring trees and bushes for the same purpose.

A large fire was blazing, and round it were numerous wooden spits,

containing pieces of fresh fish and alligator’s tail for our supper.

While it was getting ready, we went to look at some fish which had

just been caught, and lay ready for salting and drying the next day:

they were the pirarucú (_Sudis gigas_), a splendid species, five or

six feet long, with large scales of more than an inch in diameter,

and beautifully marked and spotted with red. The Lake contains great

quantities of them, and they are salted and dried for the Pará market.

It is a very fine-flavoured fish, the belly in particular being so fat

and rich that it cannot be cured, and is therefore generally eaten

fresh. This, with farinha and some coffee, made us an excellent supper,

and the alligator’s tail, which I now tasted for the first time, was by

no means to be despised. We soon turned into our hammocks, and slept

soundly after the fatigue of the day. Jaguars were abundant, and had

carried off some fish a night or two before; the alligators too were

plunging and snorting within twenty yards of us: but we did not suffer

such trifles to disturb our slumbers.

Before daybreak I had my gun upon my shoulder, eager to make an attack

upon the ducks and other aquatic birds which swarmed about the lake. I

soon found plenty of them, and, my gun being loaded with small shot, I

killed seven or eight at the first fire. They were very pretty little

birds, with metallic-green and white wings, and besides forming good

specimens, provided us with an excellent breakfast. After the first

discharge however they became remarkably shy, so I went after the

roseate spoonbills, white herons, and long-legged plovers, which I saw

on the other side: they also seemed to have taken warning by the fate

of their companions, for I could not get near enough for a shot, as

there was no means of concealing my approach.

What is called the Lake is a long, winding piece of water, from thirty

to fifty yards wide and of little depth. It is bordered with aquatic

plants and shrubs, and in some parts is thickly covered with floating

grass and duckweed. It is inhabited by immense numbers of the fish

already mentioned, and alligators, which are so thick that there is

scarcely any place where you may not stir one up. There are also great

quantities of very small fish about two inches long, which I suppose

serve as food for the larger ones, which in their turn are probably

sometimes devoured by the alligators; though it appears almost a

mystery how so many large animals can find a subsistence, crowded

together in such a small space.

After breakfast the overseer commenced the alligator-hunt. A number of

Negroes went into the water with long poles, driving the animals to the

side, where others awaited them with harpoons and lassos.

Sometimes the lasso was at once thrown over their heads, or, if first

harpooned, a lasso was then secured to them, either over the head or

the tail; and they were easily dragged to the shore by the united force

of ten or twelve men. Another lasso was fixed, if necessary, so as to

fasten them at both ends, and on being pulled out of the water, a Negro

cautiously approached with an axe, and cut a deep gash across the root

of the tail, rendering that formidable weapon useless; another blow

across the neck disabled the head, and the animal was then left, and

pursuit of another commenced, which was speedily reduced to the same

condition. Sometimes the cord would break, or the harpoon get loose,

and the Negroes had often to wade into the water among the ferocious

animals in a very hazardous manner. They were from ten to eighteen

feet long, sometimes even twenty, with enormous mis-shapen heads, and

fearful rows of long sharp teeth. When a number were out on the land,

dead or dying, they were cut open, and the fat which accumulates in

considerable quantities about the intestines was taken out, and made

up into packets in the skins of the smaller ones, taken off for the

purpose. There is another smaller kind, here called Jacaré-tinga, which

is the one eaten, the flesh being more delicate than in the larger

species. After killing twelve or fifteen, the overseer and his party

went off to another lake at a short distance, where the alligators were

more plentiful, and by night had killed near fifty. The next day they

killed twenty or thirty more, and got out the fat from the others.

I amused myself very well with my gun, creeping among the long grass,

to get a shot at the shy aquatic birds, and sometimes wandering about

the campo, where a woodpecker or a macaw rewarded my perseverance. I

was much pleased when I first brought down a splendid blue and yellow

macaw, but it gave me some hours of hard work to skin and prepare it,

for the head is so fleshy and muscular, that it is no trifling matter

to clean it thoroughly. The great tuyuyú (_Mycteria Americana_) was

often seen stalking about; but, with every precaution, I could not get

within gun-shot of it. The large and small white herons were abundant,

as well as black and grey ibises, boat-bills, blue storks, and ducks of

several species; there were also many black and yellow orioles, and a

glossy starling,—of all of which I procured specimens.

I had an opportunity of seeing the manner of curing fish practised

here. They are partially skinned, and a large piece of meat cut out

from each side, leaving the backbone with the head and skin attacked.

Each piece of meat is then cut lengthways, so as to unfold into a large

flat slab, which is then slightly sprinkled with salt and laid upon a

board. Other slices are laid on this, and, when the salt has penetrated

sufficiently, they are hung upon poles or laid upon the ground in the

sun to dry, which does not occupy more than two or three days. They

are then packed up in bundles of about a hundred pounds each, and are

ready for market. The bones and heads furnish a fine feast for the

vultures, and sometimes a jaguar will carry them away in the night, but

he prefers an entire fish if one is left in his way.

Immediately on the fish being cut up, every part of it is blackened by

thousands of flies, which keep up a continual hum the whole day. In

fact, the sound of animal life never ceases. Directly after sunset,

the herons, bitterns, and cranes begin their discordant cries, and the

boat-bills and frogs set up a dismal croaking. The note of one frog

deserves a better name: it is an agreeable whistle, and, could it be

brought into civilized society, would doubtless have as many admirers

as the singing mouse, or the still more marvellous whistling oyster

described by ‘Punch.’ All night long, the alligators and fish keep

up a continual plunging; but, with the grey of morning, commence the

most extraordinary noises. All of a sudden ten thousand white-winged

paroquets begin their morning song with such a confusion of piercing

shrieks as it is quite impossible to describe: a hundred knife-grinders

at full work would give but a faint idea of it. A little later, and

another noise is heard: the flies, which had weighed down every blade

of grass, now wake up, and, with a sounding hum, commence their attack

upon the fish: every piece that has lain a few hours upon the ground

has deposited around it masses of their eggs as large as walnuts.

In fact, the abundance of every kind of animal life crowded into a

small space was here very striking, compared with the sparing manner

in which it is scattered in the virgin forests. It seems to force us

to the conclusion, that the luxuriance of tropical vegetation is not

favourable to the production and support of animal life. The plains are

always more thickly peopled than the forest; and a temperate zone, as

has been pointed out by Mr. Darwin, seems better adapted to the support

of large land-animals than the tropics.

In this lake the overseer informed me he had killed as many as a

hundred alligators in a few days, whereas in the Amazon or Pará rivers

it would be difficult to procure as many in a year. Geologists, judging

from the number of large reptiles, the remains of which are found in

considerable quantities in certain strata, tell us of a time when the

whole world was peopled by such animals, before a sufficient quantity

of dry land had been formed to support land quadrupeds. But, as it is

evident that the remains of these alligators would be found accumulated

together should any revolution of the earth cause their death, it would

appear that such descriptions are founded upon insufficient data,

and that considerable portions of the earth might have been as much

elevated as they are at present, notwithstanding the numerous remains

of aquatic reptiles which would seem to indicate a great extent of

shallow water for their abode.

The alligator fat and a quantity of fish were now ready, so we prepared

to return home. I determined this time to walk overland, so as to see

the character of the interior of the island. I returned with the two

Negroes to the ruined cottage before mentioned, so as to be ready to

start the next morning for a walk of some ten or twelve miles across

the campo. On our way to the hut we passed over a part which was

burning, and saw the curious phenomenon of the fire proceeding in two

opposite directions at the same time. The wind carried the fire rapidly

in a westerly direction, while, at the same time, by causing the tall

grass to bend over into the flames, they progressed, though at a slower

rate, towards the east. The campos are set on fire purposely every

summer, as the coarse grass being burnt down, leaves room for a fine

crop to spring up afresh with the first rains. Near the hut I shot a

large grey heron, which made us a very good supper; and we then hung up

our hammocks for the night in the little dirty ruined hut, from which a

short time before a jaguar had carried away a large bundle of fish.

In the morning the canoe was loaded to return, and I proceeded along

a faint track homewards. The scene was generally very desolate and

barren. Sometimes there was not a blade of grass for miles. Then would

come a wide bed of gigantic rushes, which extends across the island

nearly from one side to the other. In other places were large beds of

prickly mimosas, and, at intervals, considerable tracts covered with

leafless trees about which numbers of woodpeckers were busily at work.

Hawks and vultures were also seen, and the great red-billed toucan

(_Rhamphastos Toco_) flew by in an undulating course in parties of

three or four. It was cloudy, and there was a good deal of wind; but

at this time of the year no rain ever falls here, so I did not hurry

myself on that account, and, early in the afternoon, reached the house,

rather tired, but much interested with my walk. I forgot to mention

that in the evening, after the alligator-hunt, the Negroes sang several

hymns, as a thanksgiving for having escaped their jaws.

The next day all were busily employed boiling the fat into oil,

which supplies the lamps on all Mr. C.’s estates. It has rather a

disagreeable smell, but not worse than train-oil. I now went out every

day with my gun about the campo, or to the clumps of wood called

islands, on the banks of the small streams. The principal birds I

procured were toucans, parrots, hawks, and buzzards, the red-headed

manakin, and numerous small finches and flycatchers. The mango-trees

were loaded with ripe fruit, and attracted many small tanagers and

paroquets. I now ate the mango for the first time, and soon got to like

it very much. It is not generally eaten in Pará except by the Negroes,

who seem very fond of it, to judge by the certainty with which every

fruit disappeared the moment it became ripe. There seems to be scarcely

an animal that is not fond of it,—cattle, sheep, pigs, ducks, and

fowls, all rush to secure every one that falls.

Soon after Christmas we had a few showers at intervals, and the grass

began to grow more greenly—a sign that the summer was nearly at an end.

Some butterflies and moths now made their appearance, and the skirts

of the forest were covered with passion-flowers, convolvuluses, and

many other flowers. Bees and wasps also began to abound, and several

aquatic birds I had not before seen made their appearance. In January,

Mr. C. and his family and some visitors arrived to spend a few weeks on

the island, and the time passed more pleasantly. Several of the Negroes

were sent hunting, and wild ducks of various species, deer, armadillos,

and fish, with beef and mutton, gave us plenty for our table. Several

jaguars were killed, as Mr. C. pays about eight shillings each for

their skins: one day we had some steaks at the table, and found the

meat very white, and without any bad taste.

It appears evident to me that the common idea of the food of an animal

determining the quality of its meat is quite erroneous. Domestic

poultry and pigs are the most unclean animals in their food, yet their

flesh is most highly esteemed, while rats and squirrels, which eat only

vegetable food, are in general disrepute. Carnivorous fish are not less

delicate eating than herbivorous ones, and there appears no reason why

some carnivorous animals should not furnish wholesome and palatable

food. Venison, so highly esteemed at home, is here the most dry and

tasteless meat that can be had, as it must be cooked within twelve

hours after it is killed.

A good deal more rain now fell, and small pools were formed in some

parts of the campos. About these, plovers and other birds were to

be seen wading, and a small flock of the elegant long-legged plover

(_Himantopus_). After much difficulty I succeeded in killing three or

four of them. The curious razor-bill was also often seen skimming over

the water, and the great tuyuyú occasionally approached near the house,

but always kept out of gunshot, and though I crawled along prostrate

to get within reach of him, he always found me out in time for his own

safety.

As I was getting scarcely any insects here, and the birds were not very

valuable, I determined to return to Pará with Mr. C., who was going to

pass a week at his other estate on the island of Marajó by the way.

The journey across in Mr. C.’s schooner occupied but a few hours, and

we then entered a river which leads up to the estate called Jungcal. On

arriving we found a mud-walled house not quite finished, which was to

be our abode while we staid. At the back of the house stretched out, as

far as the eye could reach, a perfectly flat plain or campo, on which

fed numerous herds of cattle. Hound about were “corrals” fenced in for

collecting the cattle, and huts for the “vaqueiros,” or cowherds; and

along the banks of the river were patches of wood, and thickets of a

great prickly bamboo. About the campo were numerous marshes and narrow

streams or ditches, which contained many curious and pretty aquatic

plants. Mosquitoes were plentiful, and annoyed us much in the evenings,

when we wished to enjoy the cool air in the verandah.

The Negroes and Mulattoes employed about the estate were mostly fine

young men, and led a life of alternate idleness and excitement, which

they seemed to enjoy very much. All their work is done on horseback,

where they showed to great advantage, only wearing a pair of trousers

and a cap with a tassel, displaying the fine symmetry of their bodies.

We were much amused by seeing them bring in the cattle, driving them

into the corral, or using the lasso when one was to be slaughtered. For

this purpose they generally get two lassos on the head or legs of the

animal, the end of each of which is held by a horseman. The “matador”

then goes up and hamstrings the poor animal with a cutlass. This quite

disables him: in vain he tries to rise on his legs and run at his

merciless assailants, till the cutlass is thrust into his neck and

deep down into his chest. He is hardly dead when he is skinned and cut

up, and the dogs and vultures rush to feast upon the pool of blood and

entrails which mark the spot. The sight was a sickening one, and I did

not care to witness it more than once.

There were few birds or insects worth catching, and it was not the time

of year for the spoonbills and ibises, which have a building-place

near, and arrive in immense numbers in the month of June.

After spending about a week at Jungcal we embarked to return to Pará.

A cattle-canoe was to accompany us, and we were to take some of the

animals on board our schooner. We started early in the morning, and in

about an hour arrived at a corral on the river-side, where the cattle

were. The boat was anchored about twenty yards from the shore, and

a block and fall rigged to haul them up on deck. In the corral were

twenty or thirty wild cattle, who had been kicking and plunging about

till they had filled the place with mud knee-deep. Several men with

lassos were trying to secure them, by throwing the loops over their

horns. The cattle used all their endeavours to avoid being caught,

by shaking their heads and throwing the cords off before they could

be pulled tight. Each man kept his attention directed to one animal,

following it about to every part of the corral. After a few attempts

he generally succeeded in getting the loop fixed over the horns, and

then half-a-dozen came to his assistance, to get the ox out of the

corral into the water. This was done by some pulling at the lassos,

while others poked and beat the animal with long poles, which would so

irritate it that it would roll itself on the ground and rush at the men

with all its force. At this they did not seem to be much alarmed, but

jumped on one side or sprang on to the rails of the corral, and then

immediately returned to the attack. At length the creature would be

either pulled or driven into the water, and the end of the rope being

quickly thrown on board the canoe, the ox was towed up to the vessel’s

side. A strong rope was then noosed over its horns, by which it was

lifted into the air, struggling as helplessly as a kitten held by the

skin of its neck; it was then lowered into the hold, where, after a

little disturbance, it soon became quiet. One after another were put

on board in this manner, each offering something interesting, arising

from the fury of the animal or the great skill and coolness of the

vaqueiros. Once or twice the lasso, which is made of twisted hide, was

thrown short of the canoe, and I then admired the rapidity with which

an Indian plunged head foremost after it, not stopping even to take

the cap from his head; he then gave the rope to those on board, and

mounting on the back of the swimming ox, rode in triumph to the canoe.

We did not get them all on board without an accident. The principal

herdsman, a strong and active Mulatto, was in the corral, driving the

cattle to one end of it, when a furious ox rushed at him, and with

the rapidity of lightning he was stretched, apparently dead, upon the

ground. The other men immediately carried him out, and Mr. and Mrs.

C. went on shore to attend to him. In about half an hour he revived a

little. He appeared to have been struck in the chest by the animal’s

head, the horns not having injured him. In a very short time he was

in the corral again, as if nothing had happened, and when all were

embarked he came on board and made a hearty dinner, his appetite not

having suffered by the accident.

We then proceeded on our voyage, and as soon as we got into the Amazon

I again experienced the uncomfortable sensation of sea-sickness, though

in fresh-water. The next night we had a very strong wind, which split

our mainsail all to pieces. The following day we landed at a little

island called Ilha das Frechas (the Isle of Arrows), on account of the

quantity of a peculiar kind of reed, used by the Indians for making

their arrows, which grows there. We staid nearly the whole day, dining

under the shade of the trees, and roaming about, picking a wild fruit,

like a small plum, which grew there in abundance; there were also many

curious fruits and handsome flowers which attracted our attention. Some

years ago the island is said to have swarmed with wild hogs, but they

are now nearly exterminated. The next day we passed the eastern point

of the island of Marajó, where there is a sudden change from the waters

of the Amazon to those of the Pará river, the former being yellow and

fresh, the latter green and salt: they mix but little at the junction,

so that we passed in a moment from one kind of water to the other. In

two days more we reached Pará.

A narrative of travels on the Amazon and Rio Negro, · 第 4 / 17 章