_A VISIT TO A NATIVE HOME_
Their home was not as far away as I had expected. But then, an
Indian's "home" is easily made, consisting of some upright poles,
roughly thatched with long marsh grass. Beneath this they place their
belongings and they sleep in hammocks at night. The forests are full
of little colonies or villages back from the river. They hide well
back, along small streams, to secrete their camp fires from river
travelers. Our friends had moved along by land as we moved by water
and this night they joined some other families. There were several of
the shelters and a fire burning in front of each around which members
of families squatted. This camp was on a wide stream entering the
Mazaruni, and screened by an island. As I entered their camp the
natives jumped up from the fires. Remembering the captain's
instructions I smiled at all of them and said, "Me-a-ree, Me-a-ree."
They replied with the same greeting. I handed the men presents and at
once it was understood that I was a friend. Our two hunters dropped
the wild boars, squatted beside them and in an amazing short time had
them opened and skinned. No butcher at home with clean blocks and keen
knives and meat saws ever cut up meat as quickly or as skillfully and
neatly as did these men.
The women gathered about and helped them in their work. The bladders
were given to two of the smaller boys, brothers of the youth. At once
they ran to the water and began to float the bladders and have fun
with them just as white children would do.
The intestines were carefully hung on poles by a hot fire of green
twigs, to smoke. These, I was told, were to the Indians the "best part
of the boar." I took their word for it, politely refusing to taste of
some of the smoked intestines they already had on hand. This surprised
the people who, I am sure, must have thought that I was all kinds of a
fool to refuse such a wonderful treat as that.
"Take what you want," said the old man, pointing to the dressed meat.
I selected the hams, shoulders and ribs, and they nodded and walked
down to the water to wash. Without a word it was understood that their
work was done. The women were to do the rest, even to toting the meat
to our camp. Quite a number of the Indians came back to our camp. The
meat was given around to our black men, saving some of it for our own
meals. Our blacks at once proceeded to build a fire of green twigs and
smoke their share of the meat.
In our shelter the Indians squatted. One of the Indians who had heard
our victrola pointed at it and made a circular motion with his hand,
indicating that he wanted us to make the discs go around. Jimmy was
delighted to play host and proceeded to go through our selection of
records. The flea-bitten dog backed away and howled at certain places
during the concert, but one of the parrots, which had come over
perched on a child's shoulder, was deeply interested and flew to the
victrola, lighted on it, eyed the revolving record sharply, squawked
delight or anger at the music and finally hopped down on the
revolving record.
He was probably the most surprised parrot in the world, for that
revolving record yanked his feet out from under him and he fell
squawking on his back. The way that old parrot flapped off of the
victrola and back to the child's shoulder was a caution, squawking and
snapping his beak as if he were swearing, in bird talk.
The Indians laughed noisily and shrilly, like children, at this.
We gave the women some little trinkets and all of them a little food.
One young woman looked at my hammock and made up a funny face,
jabbering to an older woman who nodded, and without a word to me she
took down my hammock and began to unravel it. I decided to say nothing
and watch her. When it was all unraveled and nothing but a pile of
cords she began deftly to weave it again and when she was finished it
was as even and smooth as any hammock ever made. She had seen an
uneven place in it, knew that it would not be comfortable, and fixed
it. I slept much better in it that night. I gave her a piece of
scented soap, which delighted her. With great pride she walked around
letting everyone have a smell of it. I saw her again and she had bored
a hole through the cake and strung it on her necklace. I have often
wondered how long it lasted. As the Indians never mind the rain but
are out in it just as they are in sunshine, that cake of soap
certainly dissolved in time.
Jimmy served me a goodly portion of the boar meat. Both Lewis and
myself enjoyed it. The meat was a bit stringy, but it was delicious,
nevertheless.
The night dampness and mists began to settle. Without a word the
Indians silently departed into the forests, to go back to their
shelters and sleep in their hammocks. I asked Jimmy about the vampires
and he assured me that the Indians were safe.
"Vampire bats ain't got no use for Injun, suh. Reckin they don't
admire the taste of 'em."
The Indians sleep without clothes, other than the mesh-like flaps of
the hammocks thrown over them, giving plenty of opportunity for the
vampires and also for the really dangerous mosquitoes, which proved
my undoing, as I will tell about later. The Indians seldom have jungle
fever or malaria and if the mosquitoes do bite them there are no bad
effects.
[Illustration: TWO QUICK PUFFS, A FLUTTER, AND THE BIRD DROPS TO
EARTH]