San Louise—Track across the big bend of the river—Corrientes
and Remansos—The rapid of Paredão—Violence of one of the
Indian boatmen during a fit—The rapids of Pederneira—La
Cruz—Probability that the country is level in the interior on
the right bank of the river—As Penhas Coloradas.
On the 13th, we started at daybreak, and passed the hut called “San
Louise” about 8 a.m. From this hut the track cut by the railway engineers
turns inland, and crosses the big bend of the river, coming out again
at the hut called “La Cruz,” near the rapid of Araras. From 8.30 to
9.30 a.m. we were roping through currents below the rapid of Paredão,
so called from the wall-like appearance of the rocks, that break up the
fall into several channels of broken water that one sees glistening about
half a league before getting up to them. The approach to Paredão for the
whole of this half-league is about the worst we have yet encountered. We
came up on the right bank, and had to encounter a constant succession of
“corrientes” and “remansos;” this latter being a return current that in
many places, especially bays, runs up stream inshore with great force,
until, meeting the down current at some projecting point, it again takes
the downward course. The remansos hereabouts are particularly dangerous,
for the river bank is sheer rock, and the current drives the canoe with
such force towards the rocks, that it would certainly break in pieces
with the shock if it were allowed to strike. More by good luck than by
good judgment, we escaped the danger, although once or twice we were
running great risk; once in the remanso, and once in a great “rebujo,”
or boiling up of the water, which probably takes place over a sunken
rock. Arriving at the foot of the fall, we made fast for the night. There
was a slight wave on from the cachuela; but, as we were moored against
a mudbank, it did not do us any damage. We had to put off the unloading
till next day, as the creek up which the canoes have to be pulled for
this purpose is so narrow that only one boat at a time can be got up it.
The cachuela is one of the prettiest yet passed, being broken up with
large islands and rocks into three channels, up the eastern one of which
we are to pass.
The next morning, the 14th, we were occupied till about eleven o’clock in
getting our canoes over the fall, and reloaded again at the upper side.
From the top of a rock I superintended the hauling up of my canoe over
the projecting corner of a miniature promontory, and was surprised to see
the immense amount of strain on the rope, although the canoe was being
pulled through water; and I looked on with some fear and trembling, not
only on this occasion, but always when I saw my only means of locomotion
dependent entirely upon the holding together of a few strands of hemp,
and my ropes were unfortunately of very inferior quality, and far from
new. To-day, two of my men were ill, the one with fever and the other
with an epileptic fit. So violent was this poor young fellow in his
throes, that we had to tie him tightly with cords, or he would not only
have done himself some injury, but would probably have ill-treated
some of the other men. I never before saw such a curious case; for the
sufferer, a young man of about eighteen or twenty, did not seem to lose
consciousness, although he refused to answer, or even to speak, but
ground his teeth, and, foaming at the mouth, would seize a stick or
paddle, and, rushing at those nearest to him, would scatter them far and
wide. He put me very much in mind of what I had often heard of in India,
but fortunately had never seen—a mad Mussulman running amuck in a Hindoo
bazaar. We managed, with difficulty, to get a lasso over our madman, and
then to tie him securely, and in about a couple of hours he came to his
senses, but was not thoroughly well for at least a week after the attack.
We paddled on through quiet water all the afternoon until, about 5 p.m.,
we made fast about a league below the next cachuela, called Pederneira.
On the 15th we started in good time, and by 7.15 a.m. were at the
Pederneira Falls, which we passed in three ropes’ lengths. The river
was much broken in centre, and the waves were rather high; but on the
right side there was no other difficulty than that caused by a strong
current. It is said that, at low water, this rapid is a bad one, and I
could see that there are many rocks below the level of water to-day. The
country hereabouts appears to be level on both sides of the river, and
is consequently uninteresting. At 2 p.m. we came to some islands, and
a rapid that has not had a name given to it. At low water it is said to
disappear altogether; but to-day it looks quite as formidable as Trés
Irmãos or Pederneira. We crossed the river below the islands, and had
some tough pulling to avoid being drawn into a current and on to rocks
near the left bank, getting successfully across about 100 yards above
the dreaded dangers, and, keeping on up the river-side, came shortly to
some rocky points and strong currents. Here one of the Bolivian patrons
sent the small canoe and four men to give me some help, which was very
acceptable, as my men were almost knocked up after a hard and long day’s
work; and we got to the sleeping-place by about seven o’clock.
Next morning, the 16th, we started very early, probably before 3
a.m., and at daybreak crossed over to the right bank. The mornings
have generally been foggy and cloudy for the last few days, and this,
together with the slight attacks of fever that I suffered from at
Calderão and Girão, entirely prevented my endeavouring to fix positions
by observations; and, besides, I dare not stay behind the other canoes,
or I should be left to get over the upper rapids with my weak crew,
and probably break down at Ribeirão, where the land portage is very
steep. This morning, the pavas were very abundant. I got a couple before
breakfast; several others that were wounded got away into the bush, and
there was no time to look for them. At 3 p.m. we passed by some high
banks of rock and red earth on the right bank, cut down straight by the
river. One big lump from them has fallen down into the river, and forms
a conspicuous landmark, in the distance looking like a large canoe. In
the evening I got three more pavas, and one of my men got a very fine
“perdrix,” as they call it, although to me it appeared more like a jungle
fowl. It had a most wonderfully fleshy breast, and was as tender as a
young chicken; so we were excellently well off for fresh meat to-day.
The 17th we made another early start, and passed the hut called “La Cruz”
about 7 a.m. At this spot the track cut by the engineers of the railway
across the big bend of the river comes out again, the distance between
the two huts of San Louise and La Cruz being about eighteen miles. The
whole of this distance was described to me as perfectly level and dry,
by several of the Indians who had accompanied the engineers and Señor
Ignacio Arauz, the Bolivian patron who furnished the peons for the
work, and to whose energy and perseverance the successful cutting of
the track alongside the rapids was mainly due. I had in my canoe a very
intelligent Bolivian, of rather a superior class, who had been one of the
“mayordomos,” or foremen, under Señor Arauz, and this man assured me that
from the track over the big bend, looking eastwards, no sign of hills
could be seen, but only a vast undulating plain covered with low scrub
or brushwood. Señor Arauz has also assured me that there are no hills to
be seen; and a short walk inland, together with all the evidence that
I could collect leads me to the belief that a cut across the interior,
entirely avoiding the greater bends of the River, say from the Trés
Irmãos River to the Ribeirão Falls, would not only shorten the length
of the line of railway, but would locate it where the smallest amount of
earthwork and bridging would be met with.
After breakfasting about mid-day, we tried to pass under the high red
cliffs called “As Penhas Coloradas,” which rise straight up from the
water a height of perhaps 100 feet. The current runs very strongly under
these cliffs, and we found it impossible to pass underneath them, there
being no foothold for the men to pass with ropes; and there are no bushes
available for the “ganchos,” or long hook-ended poles, which are of great
service all through the journey. We had, therefore, to cross over to the
left or Brazilian shore, and thereby lost all the ground we had gained
since breakfast; and we got across at 3 p.m., just in front of where we
had started from after breakfast. We had some good sport with the pavas
before nightfall, four of them falling to my gun; and about 5 p.m. we
arrived at a very strong corriente, where, to my great joy, one of my
Bolivian friends had left three men to assist me. With this extra help,
we were able to overcome the current by paddles only, and arrived at the
sleeping-place before dark.