Start made up river above rapids with drums beating—The islands
of Cavalho Marinho—A party of Baure Indians met with—Rate of
progress calculated at two miles per hour—Otters, alligators,
and monkeys shot—Steam navigation practicable on the river
above the rapids—Stock taken of food-supplies left—Long hours
worked.
Having got all the canoes over the last of the cachuelas, we started
onwards with flags flying from the bows of the canoes, and with several
“cajas,” or drums, beating triumphal tattoos. The Indian boatmen always
appear much delighted at having successfully surmounted the cachuelas,
although they have to prepare for very long hours of hard paddling up the
section of the river from the rapids to Exaltacion, as, owing to this
length being much infested with savages on both shores, it is customary
to stop as little as possible during the day.
The river above the falls is about half a mile in width, the country on
either side being flat, and the banks covered with a very thick growth of
“chuchia,” a kind of wild cane that throws out a spear-like point fringed
at the top with feathery seeds. From the straight tops of these canes the
savages make their arrows, which are generally about five or six feet in
length, looking almost more like spears or lances than arrows.
About half-past five in the evening we arrived at the islands called
“Cavalho Marinho,” and encamped for the night on one of them, it being
always desirable to stop the night at an island if possible, as one is
then perfectly secure from any attack by the savages, who in this part of
the river do not seem to have any canoes.
The start was ordered very early the next morning, it being 2.30 a.m.
only when all hands were called up, and we paddled on amongst the islands
for some time before crossing over to the right bank. The islands are
several in number, but have plenty of water in all the channels, so that
there would be no obstruction to navigation by steamers, although with
canoes one has to keep crossing from bank to bank in order to avoid the
strong currents found at every bend of the stream. The country remains
very flat and uninteresting, but the plague of marigueys, tavernas,
and carapanas was something fearful, and much worse than anything I
had experienced amongst the rapids. We kept on till 6.30 p.m., after
fourteen and a half hours’ work, allowing for the stoppages made for
breakfast, etc., during which meal we were joined by a party descending
from Bolivia, on their way to the Lower Madeira, on the usual speculation
of rubber-gathering. The men were about thirty in number, and were all
“Baures” or “Joaquinianos,” and were a very fine set of fellows—indeed,
as fine-looking a lot of Indians as one could put together in almost any
quarter of the world.
The next start was earlier still, it being but half-past twelve at night
when we recommenced our upward journey, by the light of a splendid full
moon. The men got very little sleep and rose up very unwillingly, the
long stretches of work being most trying, as at night one is sleepy, and
by day the sun is very fatiguing.
I calculated to-day that our rate of progress is about two miles an hour.
Each stroke of the paddle takes the canoe about a yard and a half, and
we average forty-four strokes per minute; this gives sixty-six yards per
minute, say about two miles per hour. Yesterday we paddled for fourteen
and a half hours, and should therefore have done twenty-nine miles, and I
fancy that was about the distance travelled.
To-day we stopped for breakfast at 10 a.m., after nine and a half hours’
continuous paddle, and were off again at 11.30. I heard that Molina’s men
have now used up all their farinha, and have but little rice and charqui
left; the effect of short commons being very visible with them, for they
are generally the last of the file, and in trying to pass us this day
they were easily beaten by my men.
In the afternoon I shot a “lontra,” which I take to be an otter, as it
has its cave in the roots of trees growing near the river bank. This
fellow was of a dark dun colour, and about the size of my dog “Jack,”
who was a rather large and well-grown retriever. I had heard that the
“lontra” was a beaver; but this was evidently an otter, with five-toed
feet webbed, and with an otter-like head and tail, broad and flat, placed
crosswise to the body, with the broad sides up and down. “Jack” was very
near having a tussle with the otters—for there were three altogether—and
he jumped into the river after them, swimming after their heads as they
bobbed up and down, and I was obliged to be careful with the rifle to
be sure of not hitting “Jack” instead of the otters, of whom I fancy
one more was killed besides the one we got into the canoe. At night we
roasted the flesh, and I had a bit of the “lomo,” or fillet, which was
excellent, and much like fair juicy beef. I don’t know whether otters are
eaten at home, but on the river Madeira they are thought fair game, and
in fact almost anything that can be killed is now eaten by the men. Don
Miguel’s men to-day shot three “caymanes” (alligators) and nine monkeys,
all of which were roasted, the monkeys whole, good meals being made, and
the joints remaining stored up for the next day. Monkey is good eating,
but rather tough; cayman flesh I declined at present, the animals shot
to-day being old and musky-flavoured. To-day we worked fifteen and a half
hours altogether.
June 4th. The start was made at 1.30 a.m., and we kept up the left bank,
the day being fine, and the sun not quite so hot as usual. I have paddled
a good deal these last days, and this morning did so from 4.30 a.m.
till 9.30, a fair stretch for one quite unaccustomed to such work; but
I fancied that I helped the canoe along, for every extra paddle tells,
and I got a spurt out of the men every now and again, by encouraging
them with a timely “churka, churka!” My men were not in very good form,
but what they would have been if, like the other crews, they had been
obliged to be on short rations of farinha, charqui, and cachaça, I cannot
conceive.
During the afternoon we passed a river coming in on the right or
Brazilian bank, and then a long stretch of bank on the left side, falling
into the river, causing a very strong current, with many trees sticking
up, and greatly obstructing the navigation for canoes, which are always
obliged to hug the shore. We got to the stopping-place, or “pascana,” by
about 7 p.m., finding Don Miguel and Señor Morales encamped there; but
Molina is still behind—in fact, we have not seen him since early morning.
At nightfall we passed a large “playa,” or sandbank, on which there were
a great many large cranes and other aquatic birds. We worked this day
seventeen hours, as we only stopped half an hour for breakfast, the men
eating cold otter and farinha. My bag to-day was four small cranes, which
made a capital pot at night, and three pigeons, which I got at one shot,
and with B B; these the boy roasted for cold luncheon to-morrow.
June 5th. The start was ordered at 1.30 a.m., a slight rain falling; we
keep up the left bank, which appears to be the favourite one on this
portion of the river, from the idea that the right or Brazilian side
is a favourite hunting-ground of the savages. The river continues of a
uniform width of about six or seven hundred yards, it being just a good
shot for the Winchester rifle from one side to the other. Daybreak is
generally a good time to get something for the pot, as one is able to get
nearer to one’s game than one can during the day, and this morning I got
one very fine black duck (_pato royale_), and a couple of trumpeters or
Orinoco geese (_marecas_). We christened these ducks “trumpeters,” from
the trumpeting noise they make as they fly low over the water, giving
one plenty of notice of their approach, in time to pick up the gun and be
ready for them.
The river navigation for steamers would be excellent, so far as the
depth of water is concerned, but the cutting of the wood fuel would be
rather a difficult point to manage. There is, of course, plenty of wood
on either bank; but the fear of attacks from the savages will render the
establishment of wood-cutting stations a difficult question. The proper
way will be for the Brazilian and Bolivian Governments to act jointly,
and set up armed stockades on alternate sides of the river, say at
distances of fifty miles apart, each one to be garrisoned by about forty
or fifty men, who could organize wood-cutting parties, the sale of the
fuel going a good way towards the payment of the expenses. In this way
the forest would get thinned, and the savages would either make terms or
retire further into the interior. The tribe that infests the right or
Brazilian side are called “Sirionos,” and those on the left or Bolivian
bank are “Chacobos.” These latter, it is said, are sometimes friendly,
and have traded with the villagers of Exaltacion; but the former are a
fierce and warlike tribe, that refuse to enter into any converse whatever
with either the civilized Indians of Bolivia, or with the “Carayanas,” as
the Bolivians of Spanish extract are called.
We got up to the pascana for breakfast by about 11.30 a.m., and found
that Don Miguel had kindly waited for us since about nine o’clock;
however, we came up at the same time as the batelão did, so the delay was
not altogether due to us. Knowing that Don Miguel was short of farinha,
I asked him how many days we should be in arriving at the village of
Exaltacion, so that I might see if I had any stores to spare, as it would
be better to reduce my rations than arrive at the pueblos with surplus
food, while the other canoes were short. Molina’s men are, I know, on
very short commons; but, then, his canoes have stayed behind, so that
I cannot share with them. Don Miguel calculated that we should be in
Exaltacion by about the 14th, and that about a couple of days before that
we should arrive at the “chacos,” or plantations, where we could purchase
plantains and other bread stuffs; so, as I have five alquieres of farinha
left, and we require one in two days, with full rations of one pound and
a half per man daily, I could spare at least one alquiere, which I passed
over to Don Miguel, with an arroba of good wheaten flour.
After continuing the journey up the right bank, which is still preferred,
as being freer from visits from savages, we saw, about 5.30 p.m., that
Don Miguel had crossed over, to avoid a small corriente running pretty
strongly round a rocky point; but as I saw that Señor Morales had kept
to the same bank, and had stopped for the night about a mile and a half
ahead, I managed to rope round the rock, and joined Señor Morales by
about 7 p.m., after having had some little trouble in finding our way in
the dark round a “playa,” or sandbank.
On June the 6th we started at 2.45 a.m., and at daybreak saw an immense
number of monkeys, pavas, and cranes, or “garças,” on the banks and
in the overhanging trees; but we were unable to do any shooting, as
this morning we had got rather too far behind the other canoes. In this
portion of the river there appears to be a great lagoon, not far from the
left bank, and the muddy banks of a small “igarapé,” or ravine, evidently
running out of the lake were trodden up by the birds’ feet just like a
poultry-yard. We did not get up to-day to the breakfast pascana until 2
p.m., as we had a very hard and long morning’s work, having had to cross
the river several times to avoid strong running currents, and at one very
large and shallow playa we had to pull with the rope, the men walking on
the sandbank. We got up to the other canoes very late, and found that
Don Miguel had very kindly waited for us as usual, and, to my disgust,
I found that the batelão had arrived before us, having probably passed
us before daybreak, or having started before us. I had to thank Don
Miguel very much for having waited, as otherwise we should have paddled
on without any breakfast; as it was, we were quite fagged and dismally
hungry, having paddled for eleven hours without any stoppage. We could
only give the men just time enough to cook and eat their chupe, and then
off again after Don Miguel, who promised to stop at 4 p.m., so that we
might get up to the sleeping-place in good time; but he must have gone
much further than he intended, for it was 10 p.m. before we got up to
him again. My men were much fagged, and it was too late for any cooking,
so they had to put up with an extra ration of farinha and a “pinga” of
cachaça, whilst my stand-by of sardines and farinha served me for a
supper. To-day we paddled for eighteen hours, and it seemed that we were
to have several days’ hard work such as this before we get to Exaltacion,
for the “barbaros” are said to be very bold hereabouts in the vicinity of
the junction of the Itenez, where we now are.