Currents above Theotonio—Loss of a small canoe—Theft of rum at
night by one of the Bolivian boatmen—The rapid of Morinhos—Crew
turn out to be very weak and slow—Plan for securing a good
crew—The river Yaci-Paraná—Morning fogs—Igarapé of the Caripuna
savages—Capitan Cinco’s Island—Buena Esperanza—Rations given to
the boatmen.
On the 27th, the rest of the cargo was on board, and breakfast over by
about mid-day, when we started in line, I being last of the total file
of seven canoes. About a couple of miles above Theotonio, we came to a
very strong current, and had to pass over a very dangerous point of rock,
getting over safely with hard work and much shouting. About 5 p.m. we
came to a current by an island, the current being very strong, and the
worst we had yet passed. Señor Morales sent his montaria to assist me in
getting to a point of safety for the night; but the montaria was badly
managed in passing the prow of my garitea, which was tied in mid-current
to a tree, and, owing to this mismanagement, she struck a rock, filled,
and was sucked under my canoe, and away in a moment. The four men in her
fortunately escaped, by jumping on the rock and clinging to the branches
of the tree, from whence they passed into my canoe. We had a dreadfully
hard time for about a couple of hours, and had my rope broken we should
have gone down stream at a rapid rate; but, fortunately, all went well,
and we got to where the other canoes were made fast for the night, about
100 yards ahead, by 8 p.m., and had a bad night, as, in consequence of
arriving so late, we were unable to cook a supper or set up the tent.
The next day, the 28th, we started at daybreak, about half-past five
o’clock, and stopping for a short time only, about ten, for breakfast,
concluded a good day’s work by half-past-five at night, when we arrived
at some small shanties of palm-leaves, that had been set up by the
engineers of the railway when cutting a road through the forest for
the entire length of the river amongst the rapids. Here we should have
passed a tolerable night, had it not been that one of my men got to my
stores, and stole sufficient cachaça (white rum) to make him not only
very drunk, but also so offensively noisy, that I had to get up several
times during the night and quiet him, not only by threats, but also by
a mild application of corporal punishment. It is a very bad plan to be
continually beating one’s peons, or Indian servants, for every fault
they commit. A patron who always has a blow or a bad word for his men
cannot expect even Indians to esteem him or work willingly for him; but
it must be borne in mind that there is no law or authority to appeal
to in the solitudes that have to be travelled through in the centre of
South America: in fact, the patron must be the judge, and frequently
the executioner as well, of the law; and for serious offences, such as
gross insubordination, theft, or continued drunkenness, there is no
other remedy than a judiciously applied whipping. The best plan will be
found, when the necessity arises, to form a court of which perforce you
must constitute yourself both judge and witness, condemn the criminal to
a punishment proportionate to the offence, and have the sentence duly
administered by the captain of the crew. Thus the men will see that they
are not arbitrarily punished, and a proper amount of discipline will
be maintained; but I am bound to say that the Bolivian Indians can be
perfectly well managed with a very slight show of authority.
The next morning I had a good deal of trouble to get my drunken reveller
on board, and very soon after starting he dropped his paddle in the
river, probably doing so on purpose, in order that he should not be made
to work. This was very annoying, but it was of little use punishing a man
in his condition, so we had to make the best way we could with one paddle
short. About half-past eight in the morning we got to the next rapid,
called “Morinhos,” during a heavy fall of rain, and made preparations
for ascending by a channel on the right or eastern bank. The upper part
only of the cargoes of the canoes was unloaded at this rapid, and the
crews assisting each other, all the craft were passed through the broken
waters in about four hours. Some 200 yards above the fall we had some
heavy roping work, and my canoe again struck on a rock in a full current,
giving us altogether five or six hours’ hard work to get free; but at
length we got off again, and roped ahead to where the other patrons had
awaited us. Arriving by night at the resting-place, or “pascana,” as it
is called, is very unpleasant, as the boys have not time to put up my
small tent or screen of waterproofs, and paddling after dark is very
dangerous. Hereabouts it became clear that my crew could not keep up with
the other canoes, so I asked the Bolivian patrons to go ahead and leave
me to my snail’s pace; this, however, they refused to do. The reason for
my delay was clearly that I had a most wretched crew in my canoe, great
in number—being sixteen in all—but worthless in quality; and also they
were men of different villages, and therefore did not work well together.
To travel amongst the rapids with any degree of pleasure, one must be
able to do as did one of the Bolivian patrons, Don Miguel Cuellas, who
owned three of the largest canoes; two of the others belonging to one
Señor Juan de Dios Molina, and the remaining one, besides my own, to Don
Ruperto Morales. Each of Señor Cuellas’ canoes was manned with men from
one village, two having none but Baures, while the other had Itonamas
only; thus the men understand their captains, and work with will like a
machine. Where practicable, the plan is to find a good captain and let
him select his men from amongst his own “parientes” or relations.
On the 30th we did a good day’s work, my crew improving a little, and
at night we stopped on the left bank, opposite the mouth of the river
Yaci Paraná, that enters the Madeira on the eastern or Brazilian side.
The night was passed in a wild cane brake, a kind of reed called in the
district “chuchia,” and from the straight tops of which the savages
make their arrows. The morning of the 1st of May broke with a very
heavy fog, which, hanging over the river, did not lift until the sun
attained full power by about eight o’clock. We made our start, however,
at 4.15 a.m., and during the whole day paddled straight forward, the
only troubles being in places where the fallen trees stretching out from
the banks forced us to go out into the river where the current is always
very powerful. These awkward spots being of frequent occurrence, my poor
fellows could not keep up with the other crews, but after a very hard
day’s work we got, at 6.30 p.m., to an “igarapé,” or ravine, on the left
bank, where one of the Bolivian patrons had waited for me. This igarapé
is known as the “igarapé de los Caripunas,” as these savages have a
“malocal,” or clearing, in the forest about eight miles from the river.
They are often to be met with hereabouts, but I was not fortunate enough
to come across them. The fogs were on again the following morning, but,
nevertheless, we started at 4.30 a.m., and crossed over to an island
known as Capitan Cinco’s, this being the name of the head man of the
savages of the Caripuna tribe. We coasted round this island until about
10 a.m., when we crossed over to the mainland on the railway side of the
river, namely the eastern or Brazilian side. From 11.30 a.m. to 1.30
p.m. we stopped for breakfast about half a mile below where the other
canoes had pulled up. In the afternoon we paddled on till half-past six
at night, when we got to some huts left by the railway engineers, and
known by the name of “Buena Esperanza;” the Bolivian patrons having
arrived there as early as three o’clock in the afternoon. Here I had a
conversation with the Bolivian patrons, and sought their advice as to
the slow rate at which my men managed to paddle the canoe, and heard, to
my disgust, that there was a report going about that my rations to the
crew were insufficient, and that some of my men had said so. The rations
I had been giving my men were daily ¾lb. of charqui (jerked beef), 1½lb.
of farinha (yuca flour), some rice, flour, sugar, coffee, and a liberal
serving of cachaça (white rum) night and morning. The meat, rice, and
farinha were, in my case, larger rations than those given by the Bolivian
patrons to their men, while the sugar and coffee were extras altogether;
and the other men only got tots of cachaça after working in the water, or
any other specially trying work. I was very much annoyed at this wretched
lie, the fact being that my crew was composed of a thoroughly worthless
set of fellows; too lazy even to make themselves a cup of coffee before
starting in the early morning.