THE UPPER PUTUMAYO
Early the next morning, Sunday, December 1st, we engaged two Cioni
boatmen for our canoe, as did Materón for his; and, after constructing a
platform of split bamboo to put in the bottom of the boat in order to
prevent our effects from becoming damp, we began loading our little
craft with its miscellaneous cargo.
In accordance with Materón's advice, we determined to stow away our
trunks, books, and engineering instruments in the most inaccessible part
of the canoe, while our food and the Indian trading stuff, as well as
our arms, should occupy such parts as to render them quickly getatable.
After a good deal of shifting about and changing, we succeeded in
getting everything more or less as we desired it, and were by ten
o'clock ready to start.
Thinking that this was an occasion worthy of a little celebration,
Materón, Perkins, and myself then proceeded to lessen the contents of
our barrel of _aguardiente_ by a good drink each, after which we called
up the Indian boatmen and, one by one, gave them a good bracer also,
which they swallowed with great solemnity. Then we got in the little
space that had been reserved for us in the middle of the canoe--for the
cargo was stowed fore and aft as much as possible--and gave the signal
to begin the journey.
Materón had already informed us that the first couple of days' journey
was somewhat dangerous, on account of the swift, roaring current, the
powerful whirlpools, and the numerous stumps and logs that stud the
whole course of the river; but we did not fully realise it until the
canoe, shooting out into the middle of the stream, was caught by the
current, almost before it could be turned bow foremost, and dashed with
sickening speed among the stumps and logs that loomed up on every side.
We soon perceived, however, that our Cionis were used to their job, for
they guided the flying canoe with the greatest skill as it continued its
wild progress down the swift-running river. One of them, the _popero_,
or pilot, always sits on the high, narrow seat in the stern, and, paddle
in hand, steers the canoe and from time to time directs the manoeuvres
of the other, known as the _puntero_, who generally stands in the bow
and calls out the obstacles, such as logs, stumps, &c., to the _popero_,
in case the latter cannot see them from where he is seated.
In descending a river one _puntero_ is sufficient, for the canoe is
generally carried along rapidly enough by the current, and all the
_bogas_[74] have to do is to keep the craft from striking against
obstacles and from being thrust by the strong currents sometimes
encountered into the unpleasant and often dangerous _remolinos_ or
whirlpools.
But when the river is to be ascended, known as _subida_ or _surcada_,
several _bogas_ are necessary. The route must then be close to the bank,
where the current is not so strong, but where such obstacles as logs,
stumps, salient rocks, overhanging branches, troublesome insects, and
other similar inconveniences are numerous. Here the paddles are useless,
except when crossing the river[75] in search of an easier route on the
opposite bank, and the _bogas_ must push the canoe along by main force,
employing for this purpose long poles called _botadores_ or _tanganas_.
In canoeing in the smaller rivers, especially in the dry season, bad
places, caused by the shallowness of the water or the immobility of the
huge logs that frequently form an impenetrable network on or near the
surface of the water, are often met with; in such cases the _bogas_
either wade ashore and pull the canoe out of the bad place by means of a
rope or else enter the water and shove and lift until it is free. If,
however, the canoe is very heavy and these methods fail, they strip the
bark from the _setico_-tree, which is always to be found on the banks of
these rivers, and stretch it out on top of the obstacle. As this bark is
very slippery and soapy, the canoe readily slides over it when they
push.
Materón informed us that, as a general rule, one day's descent is
equivalent to three days' _surcada_; this, however, is subject to
numerous circumstances and mishaps, such as the conduct of the boatmen,
the condition of the river, the weight of the cargo, the cut of the
canoe, the character of the travellers, the necessity of hunting and
fishing for food, &c.
What a pleasant sensation it was to sit calmly in the canoe, while the
swift current bore us steadily onwards, and to watch the thick, tropical
vegetation, which lined the banks of the stream, swiftly recede until
hidden from view by a bend of the river! How different it was from the
monotonous climbing and descending of the Andes that had caused us so
much toil!
Several times we passed through places that seemed to me perilous in the
extreme, for the whirling current would dash us with frightful rapidity
directly towards some huge stump or half-submerged log, while other
obstacles of a similar nature appeared on every hand. We seemed to be
almost upon it, when a deft turn of the _popero's_ paddle would bring us
to one side by a margin of three or four inches. Again, we would shoot
some small rapid; the canoe would give a jump, and the next instant we
would dash the water out of our half-blinded eyes, and, looking around,
would see the rapid far behind us.
We saw plenty of wild turkeys, wild ducks, and monkeys on the trees near
the bank, while occasionally a river seal, or _nutria_, would be seen
curled up on a log or disporting itself near the shore. All these
animals seemed quite tame, and would allow us to approach within a few
metres, and then, just as we were taking aim, off they would go.
Finally, after wasting a good many shots--for it is no easy matter to
shoot from a rapidly moving canoe--I managed to kill a nice fat _pava_,
or wild turkey, and one of Materón's men shot a duck.
At noon we stopped on a gravel _playa_ for lunch, which consisted
chiefly of _panela_ and _aco_, and took us only some fifteen minutes.
Then we continued about two hours, when we entered the much-discussed
Putumayo, much larger than when we saw it in the Andes, but still not a
large river. It was low, and the high banks and the exposed islet were
completely covered with the debris it had brought down in the wet
season, such as huge logs, branches of trees, bamboo poles, &c.
During the afternoon we continued to observe large numbers of birds and
monkeys, which made the whole forest resound with their ear-numbing
howls. Great flocks of parrots and other gaily plumaged birds flew
overhead, their rather harsh voices being heard continually. We shot at
several, but whether they were too high for our guns, or, as was
probably the case, our aim was inaccurate, we did not get a single
specimen. We did, however, kill two or three more ducks.
These ducks are generally to be seen perched up in the trees along the
banks or else on some stump in mid-stream, although occasionally one
perceives them floating with the current or swimming on the surface of
the water. They dive with lightning-like rapidity, and very often
succeed in getting away, even when hit severely. Their vitality is
amazing, and they are not slow to bite one if they are not quite dead on
being picked up.
At about 4 p.m. we reached the tiny Cioni village of San Diego, a small
group of about ten little bamboo shacks on the right bank of the river.
The whole village came out to welcome us as we rather stiffly climbed
out of our canoes, for it seemed that Materón was very popular with
them. They brought out a few fruits and a small jar of the
_yuca-nazata_, already described, which we respectfully refused. They
are in all respects similar to those of Puerto Guineo, and each of the
little huts contained two or three families. Materón informed us that
they had but recently established themselves here, abandoning their old
village on the other bank of the river on account of a severe epidemic
that had broken out among them and killed nearly half their number.
We spent the rest of the afternoon trading with them, giving them some
of our beads, harmonicas, mirrors, hats, handkerchiefs, &c., for a few
of their manufactures, such as hammocks, _yactas_, strings of monkey and
_danta_ teeth, combs, and the like. They are no fools at bargaining, and
have a pretty good idea of the value of the articles they are acquainted
with; they are also rather clever at demonstrating what labour it has
cost them and how much time they have spent in making any article that
one fancies; so, on the whole, we did not get much the better of them.
At bedtime, which was about nine o'clock, the _capitán_ and _gobernador_
showed us the corner that we were to occupy in conjunction with a couple
of Cioni families, and helped us fix up our hammocks. Following the
example of our hosts, we did not trouble to undress very much, but soon
fell asleep, and did not awake until time for _desayuno_.
Early next morning, after taking leave in a most affectionate manner of
our hosts, who supplied us with several bunches of plantains and a
quantity of _yucas_ and an agreeable fruit known as the _papaya_, we set
out on our easy and interesting journey. At about noon we passed the
mouth of the Guamués, the outlet of Lake Cocha, which seemed almost as
large as the Putumayo itself. During the morning we succeeded in
shooting a couple of wild turkeys and several ducks; one of the former
was almost lost on account of having fallen in a lot of thick bushes
some distance from the shore.
The vegetation is very dense all along the banks. The most common types
are large bamboos; numerous palms, such as the _palma de la cera_ or
wax-palm, the _chonta_, the fragrant _sia-sia_, the royal, and others;
_setico_-trees, already mentioned; the _palo de la balsa_, or
raftwood-tree; the _yarina_, or vegetable ivory-tree; and a variety of
others, intermingled with shrubs and bushes of innumerable kinds, and
bound together into one tangled, impenetrable mass by the countless
_bejucos_ and climbers everywhere in evidence.
Nearly every tree of any size is covered with innumerable parasites,
among which are to be found several varieties of orchids, whose
brilliant flowers serve to diversify the universal green of the forest.
The most common of these are different species of Epidendrum, Oneidium,
Peristeria, Catasectum, Sobralia, Cypripedium, Maxillaria, Stanopoea,
&c.
At about two o'clock we reached Materón's establishment La Sofía, where
we were cordially received by the other partner, Gonzalez, and his wife.
La Sofía is a good-sized, two-storied bamboo bungalow, with a fine wide
veranda extending along its front, while around the building in every
direction extend fields of maize, _yuca_, sugar-cane, &c., with the
dark, silent forest in the background. As the place is built on a rather
high bank, one can obtain from the veranda an excellent view of the
placid, smiling river as it slowly rolls past to join the mighty Amazon
on its course to the Atlantic.
La Sofía was formerly the headquarters of General Reyes, ex-President of
the Republic, when he was engaged in the collection of quinine in this
region years ago. It is at the head of steam navigation on the Putumayo,
and it was here that Reyes' steamer _Tundama_ was lost. When Materón had
arrived here, some eleven months before, he had found everything
overgrown by the rank, tropical vegetation and all the old buildings
almost completely destroyed. Reyes had named the place La Sofía in
honour of his fiancée, and Materón and his partner had retained the
name.
The company already had about ten _peons_ engaged in clearing the land
and cultivating the crops, and had advanced merchandise to all the
Cionis, who had agreed to work out their indebtedness by planting
rubber-trees, building houses, clearing land, &c. I was pleased to
observe that strict morality was the rule, and that Gonzalez permitted
no abuses against the aborigines either by taking away their women, by
cheating them, or in any way at all. As to the _peons_, they seemed
cheerful and contented.
There are two distinct kinds of rubber--that produced by a tree that
must be cut down to extract the milk, which is called _caucho negro_, or
black rubber, and is produced by the Castilloa elastica, and that which
is the product of a tree that can be tapped indefinitely, which is known
as _jebe_ or _siringa_, and is collected from the Hevea brasiliensis.
These two varieties of rubber are each subdivided into several
classifications, according to the quality of the latex or milk and the
care and skill employed in their extraction and preparation. As a
general rule, _siringa_ is much more valuable than _caucho_, and is the
best kind adapted for cultivation, although Materón was planting both
sorts. After showing us some samples of each, he informed us that the
whole region of the Upper Putumayo had once abounded in _caucho negro_,
but that at the present date very little remained, owing to the fierce
onslaughts of the _caucheros_ many years ago.
The next day Materón had some of his men build a little _rancho_ of
palm-leaves over our canoe amidships to protect us from the sun and
rain. This sort of awning is called a _pamacari_, and is in general use
in the Amazon Valley; it gave the canoe a very picturesque appearance,
and, as we afterwards found, was very convenient.
We spent the rest of the day in inspecting the estate and taking down a
Cioni vocabulary, in which language Gonzalez was very proficient and
kind enough to give us the benefit of his knowledge. This vocabulary,
which I had hoped to take back to civilisation with me, was, however,
lost under particularly aggravating circumstances, which will be duly
recorded in a succeeding chapter.
Although Materón and Gonzalez implored us to stay a week or so with
them, we decided to resume our journey on the following day; but in the
morning, just as we were about to start, Perkins was attacked with a
heavy fever, and so our departure was postponed. We dosed him up with
quinine and put him to bed, where he soon began to perspire freely,
which is to be desired in these malarial attacks.
Finding our patient better in the afternoon, Gonzalez, Materón, and
myself took a little trip down to San José, a small Cioni town about a
kilometre below La Sofía. This village and its inhabitants are very
similar to Guineo and San Diego, only a trifle larger than the latter.
Here we stopped some time, and I was able to obtain several souvenirs
from the Indians, besides a shallow earthen pot, which I determined to
fix in the canoe to cook in, thus avoiding the loss of time consequent
to performing this operation on shore.
On our return, while pushing the canoe upstream between the numerous
stumps along the shore, in the manner already described for _surcadas_,
Gonzalez, although an excellent boatman, suddenly lost his balance and
fell with a thud into the deep water. Fortunately, we succeeded in
pulling him out, none the worse for his wetting, and in a half-hour
reached La Sofía without further adventure.
Here we found Perkins somewhat better, so we fixed the pot in the fore
part of the canoe in the manner I had planned and made arrangements to
depart on the following day, for Gonzalez had decided to accompany us as
far as Yocuropuí, the next Cioni village, to see the Indians there.
Perkins better, we accordingly bade goodbye to our kind friend Materón
the next morning, Thursday, December 5th; and, lashing our canoe to
Gonzalez', in order to keep together and to facilitate conversation, we
once more resumed our journey. Materón had thoughtfully filled the canoe
with _papayas_, bananas, &c., so what with them, the conversation, and
the shooting, we were kept pretty busy.
[Illustration: CANOE VOYAGING ON THE AMAZON: A NOONDAY REST.
To face p. 96.]
The river soon became much broader, owing to the numerous tributaries,
and the current much gentler, while great sand and gravel _playas_ began
to appear with some frequency. Numerous beautiful birds, flying from
stump to stump, lent an air of life to the otherwise silent river, while
occasionally a group of monkeys could be seen making their way from tree
to tree, almost hidden by the thick leaves and tangled creepers so
characteristic of Amazonian vegetation. Soon the heat grew
uncomfortable, so we all withdrew under the commodious _pamacari_, where
it was quite agreeable.
At 11.30 we stopped for _almuerzo_ on an immense _playa_, upon which
were two or three dilapidated-looking _ranchos_, probably erected by the
exiles about a month before. Having partaken of a fair lunch of fried
_yuca_, sausage, rice, and coffee, we were about to get into the canoes
when Perkins' eye fell upon a huge ostrich-like bird several hundred
metres away. As he was such a fine specimen, Perkins endeavoured to get
within range, but in vain; for the beauty, apparently as fond of his
fine feathers as we were, soon disappeared into the forest and we saw
him no more. This fine bird was probably a _nandu_ or _ema_,[76]
sometimes called the ostrich of America.
Resuming the journey, at about two o'clock we passed a large _playa_ on
the left bank, known as the Playa de Oro[77] on account of the supposed
richness of its placer deposits. We did not examine it, however, owing
to lack of time. A little later Perkins had the good fortune to kill a
large duck, and Gonzalez almost got another, but it dived and went up
the river, and when next he appeared he had nearly reached the shore, so
we did not pursue him farther.
At about 5.30 p.m. we reached an extensive sand island in the middle of
the river, where we decided to stop for the night. After securing the
canoes we started cooking, while the Indians crossed over to the thickly
wooded river bank and soon returned with a load of palm-leaves and
several short poles of _cana brava_,[78] or wild cane, from which,
within ten minutes, they constructed two _ranchos_, where we were to
sleep during the night. After the meal was over we sat around smoking,
while the Indians washed the dishes, soon after which we all retired.
During the night I felt something pricking one of my fingers, as it
seemed to me. Striking a match, I was amazed to see the blood pour from
a smooth, round hole, about a quarter of an inch in diameter, on the
first joint of my index finger. Thinking it might have been done by some
poisonous reptile, I awakened Gonzalez, who, after a glance at the
wound, informed me that it was the work of a vampire bat.
As I afterwards ascertained, these bats are very common in this region,
in some parts becoming a veritable pest, attacking not only mankind but
also cattle, pigs, &c., and often almost killing them by the constant
loss of blood, while I have seen men who told me they had been obliged
to flee from certain localities in order to avoid the pertinacious
attacks of these midnight marauders. They always commit their
depredations at night, and it is very rare that they awaken their
victims, for while their sharp teeth quickly burrow their way through
the skin to the blood, their continually moving wings fan the wound in
such a manner as to cause almost complete absence of pain, and the
victim generally knows nothing of the midnight attack until he observes
the wound.
The next morning, at about seven o'clock, we again set out, and in a few
minutes we saw a fine _pava_, which promptly fell a victim to Gonzalez'
aim. After a short stop for lunch, we saw some young peccaries at the
bottom of the steep bank on our left. Approaching hastily, we succeeded,
after a short struggle, in capturing them alive, as they were very
young, and then disembarked to try for the mother, whom we heard
grunting in the distance. We spent a good half-hour struggling through
the thick, thorny underbrush, but all in vain; we could not find her.
The young ones we put in the boat, for Gonzalez wished to take them back
to La Sofía to see if he could domesticate them.
In about two hours more we reached Yocuropuí, a small village of about
ten houses, situated on a high knoll on the right bank. Here we passed
the afternoon in trading with the inhabitants, exchanging the various
articles that we had bought in Pasto for Indian souvenirs, such as
_bodoquedas_, quivers of poisoned arrows, pots of paint and poison, &c.
Here we got a couple of splendid hammocks.
These Indians are Cionis, and in every way resemble those already
described, except that they are, I think, a little crookeder. In
accordance with our custom, we had given them a gourdful of
_aguardiente_ on our arrival, but, not satisfied with that, several of
them had sneaked down to the canoe while we were trading with the rest
and had almost half-emptied the barrel before we discovered them.
Gonzalez, who was _corregidor_--a sort of magistrate--during Martínez'
absence, then made a long speech to them, emphasising their "base breach
of hospitality to the two illustrious travellers," and wound up by
threatening to put several of them in stocks. Completely abashed by
this, they silently slunk out of the hut, and for the rest of our stay
at Yocuropuí our barrel of _aguardiente_ was left severely alone.
On the following day we bade _adios_ to Gonzalez and set out alone, as
the _bogas_ of Guineo would go no farther, and those of Yocuropuí wished
to delay several days in order to celebrate one of their _fiesta_, which
was to occur in about ten days. We had already lost much valuable time
in Pasto and Mocoa, and as Gonzalez had assured us that there were no
falls nor rapids before us, we were rather glad to try our own skill as
_bogas_.
Perkins, seated upon the high poop astern with his short Indian paddle
in his hand, acted as _popero_, while I did the cooking up in the bow,
at the same time keeping my eyes "peeled" for stumps and game with the
gun in easy reach. The sun was very hot, but occasionally a gentle
breeze helped matters a little. The current was now very gentle, and our
progress was exceedingly slow.
As we were slowly drifting along the bank to get the benefit of the
current, which was strongest there on account of a bend in the river, I
discerned the dark outline of some large object lying upon an immense
fallen tree-trunk. Approaching nearer, we found to our astonishment that
it was an enormous boa-constrictor curled up fast asleep sunning
himself. As our rifle was out of order I took deliberate aim with the
shot-gun, and at a distance of some ten metres let fly at him. The
hideous monster jumped up and, after lashing his tail wildly about two
or three times, plunged with a splash into the water but a few metres
from our canoe and was lost to sight. From our short view of him we
perceived that he was of a dark-brown colour, except his belly, which
was white and about ten inches in diameter; his length being, as near as
we could judge, some twenty or twenty-five feet. These reptiles are
fairly numerous on the Putumayo.
Along here we noticed that the river followed a regular system of long
windings. First one bank would be eaten into by the strong current that
swept past it, while the opposite shore would be protected by an
extensive sand or gravel _playa_, often a kilometre or so in width. Then
the current would in the course of a couple of kilometres reach the
other bank and begin its scouring operations there, while the first
would commence to accumulate a _playa_.
This system of long curves or windings extends along the whole course of
the Putumayo, and it is to be observed in most of the large rivers of
the Amazon basin. It is this that makes the Putumayo so wide and shallow
and accounts for the numerous sand islands thrown up in mid-stream. In
low water the channel cut out by these everchanging currents must be
strictly followed by all steamers and launches in order to prevent
grounding.
At eleven o'clock we stopped and had lunch, which I had cooked
previously while Perkins was performing the rôle of _boga_, on a nice
shady _playa_ on the right bank. Here I managed to kill a good-sized
turkey, and, after continuing about two hours, I got another, so that
for dinner we had an excellent meal, the chief _pièce de résistance_
being roast turkey. This operation concluded, we tied up the canoe
securely, and instead of building a _rancho_ both went to sleep in the
canoe under the _pamacari_. It was a little crowded, but we got along
all right and passed the night quite comfortably.
At about six o'clock the next morning we resumed the trip, and a couple
of hours later passed the mouth of the Quebrada San Miguel, a large
tributary, almost as large as the Putumayo itself, on the right bank. It
was here that we first made the acquaintance of a gigantic buzzing bee
that followed us for hours, flying about Perkins' head in such an
irritating manner that he split our best paddle in a vain endeavour to
kill it. This he finally succeeded in doing, but the deceased's place
was soon taken by others, who kept at poor Perkins until nightfall. They
did not trouble me, probably on account of the smoke from the fire
burning in the pot I got in San José.
At midday Perkins took an observation for latitude, and found that we
had just passed the Equator, being then a few minutes south of the Line.
In order to celebrate this occurrence we both got outside of a good dram
of _aguardiente_; we had made a successful "dash" to the Equator, to
employ the Polar term.
Soon we came to a place where the river divided into two arms, or
_brazos_, a large and a small one. We chose the latter for the sake of
the shade and the better chance of shooting game. As we slowly made our
way through the narrow _brazo_, the branches in some places joining over
our heads, the calm beauty of the luxuriant vegetation and the intense
silence of the forest, broken only by the occasional shrill call of some
brilliant bird or the howl of a distant tribe of monkeys, combined to
make us think we were in some fairy land.
Emerging at last from the shady arcade of the _brazo_, we again entered
the main river, and at one o'clock reached Montepa, the last village of
the Cionis, situated upon a steep knoll on the left bank. It consisted
of eight or ten little bamboo huts, very similar to the other Cioni
villages already described. Here we stopped a couple of hours and had a
long talk with the _capitán_, who seemed to think we were very brave in
making the trip without _bogas_, and as a token of his admiration
offered us each a drink of _mazata_. After collecting a few more
souvenirs we were about to depart, when Perkins suddenly spied an
enormous catfish, which, after the inevitable haggling, we purchased.
This reminded us that we had plenty of fishing-tackle ourselves, so we
resolved to test our angling abilities that very night.
Taking a most affectionate leave of the worthy _capitán_, whose extreme
friendliness was doubtless inspired by our _aguardiente_, we resumed
our descent, and continued for a couple of hours, when, reaching a
convenient island, we stopped for the night. While I prepared dinner
Perkins shot a few small birds, which seemed to belong to a species of
dove, as bait, and, after our meal was over, we rigged up a couple of
lines and began fishing. Soon I felt a nibble at my hook, and when I
thought the fish had it well digested I pulled and had the satisfaction
of landing a fine big catfish. Perkins soon caught another, and
presently we had a good number of the handsome big fellows.
In the morning we enjoyed an excellent breakfast of fried fish, after
which we again set out. The river now became enormously wider on account
of its division into several _brazos_, some of which covered great
distances before rejoining the main channel. Large islands, covered with
the prevailing dense vegetation, commenced to appear with great
frequency, while tributaries of all sizes continued mingling their
contents with those of the main river. In fact, the whole country was
becoming a complete network of _brazos_ and _quebradas_, so intermingled
and so numerous that it was often difficult to distinguish the one from
the other. This continued all the way to the mouth of the river, and is
common to nearly all the great streams that empty into the Amazon.
Here we began to observe the _boto_, dog-fish or _pira-jaguar_,[79] of
the Indians, a huge fish often more than two metres in length, which
plays about in schools in many parts of the river. They would flop
awkwardly about, close to the boat, apparently quite at home with us. A
rather peculiar custom of theirs is that of gasping and snorting
violently, as though disgusted about something. Its flesh is not
edible--at any rate, the Cionis will not eat it. This fish is also known
as the dolphin of the Amazon.
During the whole day we suffered heavily from the suffocating heat, for
the burning rays of the equatorial sun shot down upon our unprotected
backs with a seemingly intentional fury, and not a breath of air stirred
all day. Our thirst was astounding, but, luckily, Materón had insisted
upon our taking along a quantity of limes, which now came in very handy
to alleviate it.
The next day, Tuesday, the 10th, at about ten o'clock, we met a party of
Indians, apparently returning to Montepa from a hunting expedition. We
hailed them and asked what luck they had had, but they hurried off
without replying, probably half-frightened to death at seeing two
genuine, full-blooded white men.
In the afternoon we saw a _ronsoco_, or _capivara_,[80] a large
amphibious animal somewhat resembling a hog, standing near the water on
a small flat area at the foot of a very steep clay bank. As soon as we
got within range I discharged the shot-gun at him, and then we both kept
up a hot fire with our revolvers, wounding him in several places, as he
made desperate efforts to clamber up the steep, slippery bank.
Despairing of this, he suddenly plunged into the water, and we were just
on the point of giving up pursuit of him when we saw his head as he came
up to breathe. We emptied our six-shooters at him again, but again he
dived, coming up in about two minutes, when at our once more taking a
shot at him he disappeared for good and we saw him no more. I suspect
that we killed him and his body sank.
This animal feeds on grasses and weeds on the banks of the river, and is
generally about the size of a hog. His scanty coat, of a greyish colour,
is hard and bristly, but his flesh is used as food by the Indians,
although it is not very tasteful. The lard it furnishes is, however,
very much esteemed in most parts. I believe that this is the largest
rodent known.
This rather exciting conflict concluded, we kept on until six o'clock,
when we tied up the canoe to a nice sand _playa_. After dinner we again
went out on a nocturnal fishing expedition, and had fair luck, catching
enough for breakfast, but not such big ones as on the preceding night.
At about ten o'clock we retired to the canoe.
The next morning, at about half-past four, we were awakened by a sudden
jar, so severe that we rolled all over each other. Climbing out from
under the _pamacari_ as quickly as possible, we found to our horror that
_the canoe was adrift_. It had undoubtedly become released during the
night from the stake to which it had been fastened and had drifted on
downstream with the current. It was only by good luck or the hand of
Providence that it had not capsized already.
As soon as we realised what had happened I immediately climbed out in
the bow to ward off any other stumps that we might be about to strike,
while Perkins hurried back to the poop and endeavoured to get the bow
foremost, for the canoe was floating broadside. Complete darkness
prevented us from seeing more than two feet ahead of us, but Perkins
succeeded in getting the bow pointing more or less ahead and keeping it
there, while I stood up in front trying to make out the best course to
avoid the stumps. After what seemed like an eternity--as we expected to
capsize every moment--although really about an hour, day began to dawn
and we began to breathe again. Soon a good-sized _playa_ appeared and we
stopped for breakfast, feeling rather surprised that we were alive to
partake of it.
After a short rest and a long pull of _aguardiente_ we pushed on again.
Soon a gentle breeze began to blow, which was very agreeable, for the
heat was scorching; it gradually increased, however, until it got to be
quite a nuisance, raising waves nearly two feet high and blowing against
the _pamacari_ with such force that we were once more in danger of
capsizing. Finally, the situation became so ticklish--for we did not
dare to approach the bank on account of the dangers from falling trees,
&c.--that, much to our regret, we were obliged to remove the _pamacari_,
leaving nothing but the bare framework. Things went better then, and in
accordance with our usual luck, the wind soon after ceased and within an
hour all was calm again.
In some seasons of the year fierce tempests take place on the rivers of
the Amazon basin, called _turbonadas_. These are generally accompanied
by lightning, torrential rains, &c., and the wind, often attaining a
velocity of from twenty to thirty metres per second, blows down trees
and causes such large waves and whirlpools that canoes are often
overturned and lost unless great care is taken.
At two o'clock we unexpectedly reached Guepí, a scattered collection of
three Colombian rubber-trading establishments, about a kilometre apart
from each other. We stopped for an hour or so at the first house,
belonging to one Señor Muñoz; this was a large split-palm bungalow,
raised about six feet above the level of the ground in order to prevent
flooding during the wet season, when the river overflows its banks. It
appeared to be uncompleted, for there were no walls, although the roof
and the elevated floor were finished, and the latter was covered with a
miscellaneous collection of _bultos_, heaps of _yuca_ and plantains,
pots and kettles, _peons_ in hammocks, pieces of rubber, and other
things too numerous to mention. The inhabitants seemed to be taking life
easily and not worrying about a rainy day, for they all knocked off as
soon as we appeared and began simultaneously to talk and to fill
themselves and us with _aguardiente_. They seemed to be a merry, jovial
lot, and when we left insisted upon presenting us with a dozen eggs and
a whole lot of _papayas_ and plantains.
[Illustration: A TYPICAL RIVER BANK CLEARING.
[To face p. 108.]
At about 3.30 we reached the settlement of Señor Fajardo, another
bungalow, somewhat smaller than Muñoz', but on much the same style. Here
we were also cordially received by the proprietor, a small,
dark-complexioned man of about fifty, and his buxom wife. As they both
pressed us to stop all night with them we gladly assented, and,
accompanying them to the house, we were introduced to Drs. Ortiz and
Hernandez, two of the recently exiled political prisoners from Mocoa,
who, it appears, had escaped from the escort at this place and were
about to set out for Iquitos via the River Napo.
The two exiles seemed to be very decent fellows, and gave us a rather
interesting account of their imprisonment and of their subsequent escape
from the escort; their companions, however, had elected to continue
their journey to the Caraparaná and take a launch from there to Iquitos,
as was our intention; but these two gentlemen had thought it more
interesting to ascend the River Guepí by canoe as far as possible, and
then, crossing overland to the River Santa María, an affluent of the
Napo, to descend that river and the Napo to their destination, the
Peruvian town of Iquitos on the Amazon. As we were bound for the same
place we promptly made an arrangement to the effect that the ones who
reached there last were to regale the first-comers with a good dinner
and half a dozen bottles of the best champagne. We then celebrated this
compact with a drink of _aguardiente_ each and retired for the night.
As the river had risen some two feet by morning the two exiles
determined to take advantage of this fact to set out at once, for such
small rivers as the Guepí can only be navigated conveniently for any
distance when the water is high. In accordance with this resolution they
immediately began to pack up and send for their _bogas_, and at eleven
o'clock, everything being ready, the two voyagers, with a last _adios_,
took their departure.
Returning to the house, we enjoyed an excellent lunch, during which we
learned that our host had extensive rubber areas in the interior of the
forest, several days' journey from the riverside and that his _peons_
were now at work there, extracting and preparing this produce for
market; some of this rubber he sells at Mocoa, but his principal market
is at Iquitos, which he described as the chief rubber centre of the
Upper Amazon. In addition to his regular employees he had several
Indians also at work collecting for him, whom he paid in merchandise.
Lunch over, we said goodbye and took our departure, loaded with a fresh
supply of limes, _yucas_, &c. The river, muddy and swollen to a degree,
took us along rapidly, and soon Guepí was left behind and we were again
alone upon the river. At about five o'clock we began looking for a
_playa_ to stop for the night on, but none were to be seen--the river
had covered them. We continued, however, in the hopes of finding some
suitable place until it grew dark, when, fearing to go any farther, we
tied up to a good, stout stump on the bank. Here we missed our
_pamacari_, but, after some meditation, we hit upon the idea of hanging
our ponchos over the framework, which, fortunately, we had left on. This
scheme working satisfactorily, we had a couple of games of chess, and
then retired.