_HOW THE NATIVES HUNT AND FISH_
For four long, busy months, we were to delve into that pebbly soil,
and during that time I would also learn much of hunting and fishing
that was strange indeed. I was especially interested in the manner in
which the Indians get fish by poisoning them. Of course that seems
very unsportsmanlike to us at home, but remember that these natives do
not hunt and fish for the _sport_ of it, but to _live_. And then, bear
in mind that while we have telescope steel rods and artificial bait
and ball bearing automatic reels and oiled silk lines and transparent
gut leaders, floats, spoons, spinners, rubber minnows, hundreds of
artificial flies, nets for landing the fish, gaffs, and every sort of
fishing tackle, these Indians have not even common hooks and sinkers.
Spears and harpoon arrows are their only means of fishing, aside
from poison. Consequently one should not say that they were
unsportsmanlike, although I felt that way about it at first. Thinking
it over I decided differently.
They have several means of catching fish by poison and I must say that
it is a far better way than that of some of the game hogs in this
country who dynamite lakes and rivers for fish, killing far more than
they can get, while with the poison the fish not taken soon recover
and are as lively as ever.
Our Indians paddled into a small inlet of the river one day where
there is quite a deep pool that back-waters in. Hauling the canoe out
on land they proceeded to fill it with haiarry vines and water. With
heavy sticks they crushed these vines. As I looked on with interest,
one Indian pointed to the liquid and said, "Kill um," meaning that it
was poison.
After the vines were well crushed they tipped the contents of the
canoe into the pool and within five minutes a great quantity of fish
arose and floated on the surface. They collected the largest and best
of these for food and as soon as the poison in the pool had thinned
out the other fish recovered and were as well as ever. I was afraid
that the poison would render the fish unfit for food but found that
it did not affect them at all in that manner. It certainly was an easy
way to catch fish and for a party as large as ours, the twenty blacks
and the group of Indian hunters, it took a lot of fish and game to
feed us.
Probably the most interesting method of catching fish as practiced by
these clever Indians was by means of poisoned grasshoppers. They made
a paste of the leaves of the quanamia, a strong narcotic plant.
Catching large grasshoppers they filled the stomachs of these insects
with the paste and tossed them into the water. The fish would leap up
and swallow the grasshoppers, only soon after to turn, belly up, and
float on the surface where they were picked up.
Here we found the game more abundant than ever, which was natural as
we were far out of the haunts of blacks and Dutch, except for the few
"pork knockers," or tramp diamond miners, and there were probably no
more than a score all up and down the fields.
Several kinds of animals were shot, but the favorite food was deer and
labbas. The tapirs are like great hogs and their meat is rather tough
though nourishing. The labbas also belong to the hog family but are
about as big as jack rabbits. Small game birds were also plentiful.
The maams were the best game birds, about the size of a very small
turkey and much like them. The white people call them bush turkeys but
scientists say that they do not properly belong to the turkey family.
We didn't care what family they belonged to, we found the meat
delicious.
I do not mean that the game was so plentiful that it came down to us
and begged to be shot. But our Indian hunters seldom went out without
bringing back some meat. It was a cheerful sight to see three or four
hunters come marching in, each with a part of a great tapir or deer
slung over his back. We were sure of "fresh pork," as we called it,
for days.
One of our Indians had hunted steadily for three days without any
success and he was getting decidedly sore about it. He had not seen an
animal in any of his wanderings. When he returned empty handed on the
third day I tried to cheer him.
"How come, buck man?"
[Illustration: USUALLY OUR HUNTERS WERE SUCCESSFUL]
"No thing," he grunted.
"Too much sit down," I said.
"No sit down!" he protested. "Wakwakwak (walk), all tam wak. Me no
see. How can shoot um me no see?"
There was no argument there. If he saw nothing he certainly could bag
no game. But this Indian was superstitious, as all are. He got an idea
that there was black magic in my camera, and it bothered him.
"Too much humbug," he said, pointing to my camera which I happened to
have with me. "You tak picture all tam, put um picture on paper and
sho all mans. Deer know this and be bexed (vexed) see um picture on
paper. Run away. How go for catch if no see?"
This was a lengthy outburst for an Indian. He had reference to my
taking his picture as he came into camp with various kinds of game
over his shoulders. He believed that the dead game knew its picture
was taken and that its spirit warned the living game to keep away
because the picture taking was an insult. He did not reason that the
game would be warned to keep away from him to save its life, but only
to escape the insult of having its picture taken. Hence his argument
that the game was "bexed" and kept out of sight.
"No get um. Must catch beena," he said, earnestly. A "beena" is some
sort of a rite or charm that the hunters go through in order to give
them good fortune or luck or whatever it is they most desire. There is
a different sort of beena for each thing. I gave him a half day
holiday to "catch beena." Being especially anxious to bag deer he was
going to "catch deer beena." The sly fellow had hidden away somewhere,
just for this emergency, the nose of a deer.
Beena may bring good luck but I would not care for good luck earned in
that manner. This chap heated the nose of the deer on a shovel over
coals until it fairly sizzled. Then he cut slashes, not deep, but
enough to draw blood, on his chest, arms and legs and rubbed that hot,
greasy nose into the cuts. He believed that the fat thus entering his
body or blood would enable him to get all the deer he wished, as it
would give him power over them.
That afternoon he went out, and, sure enough, he returned with a
big deer. I did not dare photograph it for fear the Indian would
become frightened or discouraged, and leave. No power on earth could
persuade him that it was due to any other reason than his beena that
he got the deer.
[Illustration: THE TOUCAN MAKES AN INTERESTING PET]
As I explained, I took many pictures but lost the greater part of them
through attempting to develop the films in the hot climate. Birds of
unusual variety, to me, were photographed in plenty. The toucans were
interesting birds. They would come quite close to us, and I managed to
get a snapshot of one not more than ten feet away, just as he was
apparently sharpening his gigantic beak on the shore gravel.
I found the Indians to be not only interesting but very likable chaps.
I formed a strong friendship and they likewise became very friendly
with me. I learned much of their language, had them at our logie for
guests on a great many occasions and, after a manner, got so that I
could talk well with them and learn much of their lives, their
ambitions, their joys and sorrows. Their language is called
"Akowoia."
The taste of the Indians in food I could never learn, such as their
terrible drinks, the smoked intestines and the eyes of animals which
they cook as a great delicacy. Nor am I at all fond of their pastry.
It is simply a dough made of flour, salt and soda mixed with river
water and fried in much grease in a frying pan. But their cooked fresh
fish, their boiled tapir and other game meats are always good, clean
and appetizing.