Leave Exaltacion—Improvement in crew—Mobima Indians
of Santa Ana—“Mani” planted on sandbanks—The river
Yacuma—Trading up the Yacuma to Reyes, San Pablo, San Borja,
etc.—Multitudes of mosquitoes, etc.—Shoal of fish—Storks,
ducks, flamingoes—Canichana Indians—The river Apiri and the
village of San Ignacio—Poling over the shallows—The river
Jamucheo—San Pedro—Traders haul their canoes over a portage to
San Pedro—Weather turns very cold—The river Ybari—Arrival at
Trinidad.
On the 28th of June I continued my journey up the river Mamoré, starting
from the puerto of Exaltacion about 1 p.m., and soon arriving at a
landing-place that is used when the river is full in the rainy season.
This appeared to me to be a much better place for a permanent port,
although it is further away from the village than the lower one, but
it has the advantage that when the river is full it fills a creek that
runs to within a quarter of a mile of the town, and up which canoes can
then ascend, while, in the dry season, it is not so subject to dangerous
landslips as the lower port is, for the banks are not nearly so high.
We paddled on up stream till about 9 p.m., when we stopped for the night
at a playa, starting the next morning at 5 a.m. with every prospect of a
good day’s work, as the men are all strong and well, and of a much better
class than my old crew. I have now eight Trinitarios and two Cruzeños,
these last being much better paddlers than Cruzeños generally are, one
of them also bidding fair to make me a very useful servant in place of
the lad that decamped yesterday. The river continues to be about half a
mile in width, and presents no features of special interest, large playas
or sandbanks alternating with long stretches of falling banks. In the
afternoon we saw a canoe with Mobima Indians from Santa Ana on the Yacuma
River, who come to the large playas on the Mamoré in the dry season, to
sow maize and various kinds of beans thereon. We halted at 9 p.m., the
night being a very unpleasant one from the great number of mosquitoes,
the camarota of the canoe being so full of traps that it was impossible
to set up the “toldeta,” or mosquito curtain, without letting in a lot of
these bloodthirsty monsters; and on day appearing, I found the curtain
was a perfect hive of them, and that I had suffered a serious loss of
vital fluid. We started early the next morning (June 30th), the men
requiring very little urging. At daybreak I went ashore on a large playa,
and found it planted with two sorts of “frijoles,” or beans, and a kind
of small pulse, called here “mani,” which, from the description given me,
appears to be much like East Indian “gram” (_i.e._ the large red class).
This planting is carried on by the Santa Ana people, who come here in
their narrow canoes or dug-outs, very long and very narrow, some being
perhaps thirty feet long by sixteen or eighteen inches wide. This is the
class of canoe used by the Cayubabas of Exaltacion, and by most of the
Indian tribes of the Beni.
About half-past two in the afternoon we passed the mouth of the river
Yacuma, on which is the pueblo of Santa Ana, the head-quarters of the
Mobima Indians. From the breadth at its mouth, the river appears to
be of considerable size; and the village is said to be “doce tornos,”
or twelve bends up river, this being the method by which the Indians
describe a distance on these rivers. Probably the village is a good day’s
paddle from the junction of the Yacuma with the Mamoré. It is by this
river that traders take goods for the pueblos of Reyes, San Pablo, San
Borja, and Santa Cruz, all of which are peopled by the Maropa Indians,
and from which villages a trade is carried to the towns of Apolobamba
in Bolivian territory, and Sandia in Peruvian. The river Yacuma is said
to be navigable all the year round for large canoes, and is free from
savages; therefore a small steamer may be advantageously employed here,
after the construction of the railway of the cachuelas. The Beni River is
said to be known from its sources, near La Paz, down to Cavinas, where
there is a small village and a mission; but below that point few persons,
if any, have of late years navigated, for the savages, who infest the
lands near the junction of the Beni and the Mamoré, at the Madeira Falls,
are much dreaded. Doubtless these savages would be easily driven off
when navigation commences in earnest on these waters, but it is just as
well to have two lines of communication with the south-eastern towns of
Peru. One of the merchants who accompanied me up the rapids, sold goods,
to the value of £3400, in Exaltacion to a trader who sends canoes up the
affluents of the Mamoré or the Itenez to the various pueblos of the
department of the Beni, such as San Joaquin, San Ramon, San Nicolas, and
San Pedro on the Machupa River, Magdalena on the Itonama, Concepcion de
Baures and El Carmen on the Baures or Blanco River, the before-mentioned
town of Reyes and others on the Yacuma, and San Ignacio on the Jamucheo.
Considerable trade will doubtless be opened up with these towns and
villages, and work will be found for two small steamers; one to run on
the affluents of the Mamoré, and the other on those of the Itenez, the
head-quarters of both being at Exaltacion or El Cerrito, just below.
July 1st. Started at 5 a.m., having had better luck with the mosquitoes
last night, as I only had about half a dozen under the curtain instead
of about a hundred, as I had the night before; but the men, who slept on
shore on a high sandbank, passed a bad time and got no sleep at all, as
the wind continually lifted up the toldetas and allowed the mosquitoes
a free right of way. As soon as it was light I had pretty good sport,
getting a “cabeça seca,” three ducks, and a pava in a very short time.
There is always plenty of game to be had on this part of the river—so
much so that one need scarcely provide any charqui, if it were not rather
imprudent to trust entirely to one’s gun for the supply of a canoe’s crew
of boatmen.
[Illustration: THE BATA.]
The country we pass through is very uniform, “playas” and “tierras
disbarrancandas,” and bits of pampa land, alternating with each other.
There are no “barbaros” hereabouts, and I should say the lands from
Exaltacion to Trinidad would be very valuable for emigration; climate
splendid, land of excellent quality for the production of crops of
sugar-cane, rice, maize, plantains, and every other description of
tropical produce, together with capital pampas for cattle rearing. The
bag to-day was splendid—two cabeça secas, a very large stork, called a
“bata,” four ducks, and a pava; total eight. Also, we got about a dozen
good-sized fish, which the men pulled out with their hands, there being a
shoal of them close inshore; and if we had had a net we could have got a
canoe full with ease. The “bata” is of the stork tribe; it stands about
five feet high. Its wings, fully extended, cover eight feet six inches;
colour white, head without feathers, but deep black skin, with red bag
or wattle on the breast, where the body-feathers commence. The beak is
black, with a curious upward turn, and is about twelve inches long. This
fellow I shot with the rifle at about 200 yards. He had strength left to
make for the bush, but my young retriever “Burro” bolted after him and
kept him prisoner amongst a heap of dead timber, until one of the Indians
got up to him and finished him off with sundry blows on the head. The
flesh of these birds is excellent eating, a steak off the breast, toasted
over the wood fire, being very tasty. We saw a pair or two of flamingoes,
and also some spoonbills; but these birds seem very wary, and do not
allow one to get even within a rifle-shot of 200 or 300 yards.
July 2nd. Started at 3.30 a.m. This morning we see but few ducks or other
birds, the wind perhaps driving them to cover, as it blows strong from
the north-east. We have now passed the run of the Santa Ana people, for
we do not find the playas sown with anything; nor do we meet with canoes,
as we did yesterday, when we saw two or three lots of these Santa Ana
Indians. This was a very uneventful day, with no shooting to speak of.
Stopped for the night about 7 p.m.
July 3rd. Started about 4.30 a.m., rather later than usual, the men
having overslept themselves; for we had intended to make the start about
two instead of after four o’clock. Soon after sunrise we met a canoe with
Canichana Indians, going to some chaco that they have near here, so we
are now in the San Pedro district. We don’t make the progress I had hoped
for, and it is clear that my canoe is undermanned; so I fear we shall
take eight or ten days from Exaltacion to Trinidad instead of the usual
six or seven. I found to-day that we had passed the river Apiri yesterday
morning, about breakfast-time. This river appears to be placed in the
maps (Johnston’s) too high up the Mamoré by about a day’s journey—say
fifteen or twenty miles. The pueblo of San Borja is on this river, but is
a very small and insignificant place.
At 3 p.m. a heavy storm of rain, with thunder and lightning, came up
with the wind, which has for the last two or three days been blowing
from the north-east. About a third of an inch of rain fell. We stopped
for the night about seven o’clock, and started the next morning, July
4th, shortly before 3 a.m., making a good early morning run. At daybreak
plenty of duck were about, and I got a couple of marrecas and five
cuervos, the latter a kind of black teal that I consider to be very good
eating. In the afternoon my captain, one Pedro Yche, a Trinitario Indian,
left his steering for a time, and took a spell at the paddles. He is a
remarkably fine Indian, and very strong, being far above the ordinary
stamina of the Indians. On the journey up the rapids he was the moving
spirit amongst Don Miguel’s men, and whenever he put his shoulder to the
canoes, in hauling them over the land portages, they had to go! To-day
he started paddling with such good will that the paddle broke with the
force he exerted in pulling it through the water. As we were short of
paddles, he made the men cut a lot of long “chuchia” (wild cane) poles,
from twelve to fourteen feet in length, and over the shallow waters of
the playas we poled along, progressing very fairly. This is a favourite
method with the Brazilians when travelling on the rivers, but the
Bolivian Indians soon tire at it, and seem to prefer the monotonous
work of paddling. At night we stopped opposite to the mouth of the river
Jamucheo or Tijamuchi, seven days’ journey up which is the pueblo of San
Ignacio. To-day my total shooting was three ducks, eight cuervos, and a
pava—a good bag, sufficient for a good “pot” and a grill for all hands.
July 5th. We started very early—at 3 a.m.—and about mid-day stopped for
breakfast at the “puerto” or landing-place for the village of San Pedro,
which is situated at the head of the river Machupa, which is an affluent
of the Itenez. This village is peopled by the Canichana tribe of the Beni
Indians, and is about a couple of leagues from the eastern bank of the
Mamoré. There must be some slightly raised land, sufficiently elevated
to form a watershed, a short distance from this bank of the great river,
for the Machupa and other affluents of the Itenez run in a north-easterly
direction, but the elevations are not of sufficient size to be seen as
hills. There are two ports for San Pedro, at the upper one of which
we stayed for the night. The sheds at these ports are large and well
built, an Indian always living at them, who is termed the sentinel, and
whose duty is to take care of the canoes of the villagers or traders,
who leave their craft at the port while they visit the pueblo. From the
style of the work, the quality of the timber, and the tidiness of the
place, my previous favourable opinion, obtained by the employment of a
few Canichanas in San Antonio, was confirmed, to the effect that these
Indians are the most desirable of any of the various tribes of the Beni.
They are excellent workmen with the axe, and are, I think, less addicted
to the use of ardent spirits than the Cayubabas or the Trinitarios.
Traders going to San Pedro use the port on the Mamoré instead of going
the round by the river Itenez. Their canoes are hauled up on land, and
dragged by oxen across the two leagues of pampa between the Mamoré and
the Machupa; and when steam navigation on the Mamoré commences, no doubt
a corduroy road over this tract would be a great acquisition, so that the
town of San Pedro may be accessible during all seasons from the Mamoré.
July 6th. We started again about 3 a.m., and at daybreak came to a playa
where the current ran very strong; so tried the other side, but found
the current worse, and the bank falling. We therefore returned to the
playa, and dragged the canoe about a mile with a light rope, the men
walking on the sand, and a couple of men in the canoe keeping her in a
straight course with their chuchia poles. This morning the river was
rising, and so the current was more rapid than usual, and the sandbanks
were falling away as the water rose. In the afternoon we passed the port
of the village of San Xavier, which is situated on a creek running into
the Mamoré on its right bank, and at 5.30 p.m. stopped for the night at
some “chacos” on the left bank of the river. During the night there was a
little rain, and the wind changed from the north, where it had been for
the last few days, round to the south, thus promising us some more cold
nights.
July 7th. The south wind caused the day to break cold and dull, the
thermometer going down to 66° Fahr., and not beginning to rise until past
eight o’clock in the day; nevertheless, the men started early, because
they hoped to get to the puerto of Trinidad, on the river Ybari, before
nightfall. No shooting to-day, and very dull, unpleasant travelling on
account of the cold; so I wrapped myself up in my Scotch maud, and read
till twelve o’clock, when we stopped for breakfast. During the morning we
were much delayed by the strong wind, which, being from the south, was
right in our faces, and we were quite unable to make head against it in
the shallow waters over the playas; we had, therefore, to keep under the
banks in order to be somewhat sheltered from the wind, but as these banks
were falling ones (“tierras disbarrancandas”), it was very unpleasant
work. I had some sharp words with my captain, Pedro Yche, who is a good
fellow, but very self-willed, and was far too fond of risking the canoe
and our lives under these banks rather than brave the cold wind on the
exposed playas. In consequence of all this trouble we did not make the
progress we had hoped for, and at nightfall I ordered the canoe to the
left bank of the river, where the banks were not falling, and where we
could pass the night secure from the danger of being crushed by a heavy
fall of earth; but we had a very bad night on account of the powerful
wind, which many times during the night I fancied would cause the canoe
to drag her moorings.
July 8th. The thermometer went down to 57°, and the night appeared to
me to be about the coldest I had yet passed in the tropics; but perhaps
above the cachuelas, when the south wind was blowing, it might have
been as cold. I had not then a thermometer to register by, and was able
to keep under the toldeta; but last night this arrangement was quite
useless, for the wind blew right through the camarota with a force so
great as to render the fixing up of a curtain an utter impossibility.
I think that Humboldt says that 21·8° Centigrade, equal to say 71°
Fahrenheit, kept him from sleeping, so that our 57° may be considered as
very trying indeed; and so we found it.
We made a start about 5.30 a.m., as soon as daylight appeared—for there
was no temptation to linger under our blankets, which were quite unable
to keep out the searching wind—and about 7.30 we left the Mamoré,
entering a river called Ybari, about 100 yards wide at its mouth. In this
part of the Mamoré there are two rivers of the same name, “Ybari,” and on
one of these, the one now referred to, the town of Trinidad, the capital
of the department of the Beni, is situated; on the other, about a couple
of days’ journey southward, is the village of Loreto. This Ybari has
plenty of water all the year round, and at present appears to be fairly
navigable for small steamers, as it is perfectly free from dead wood or
sandbanks, and the Indians tell me that even in the dry season there is
water enough for large gariteas that draw, when loaded, four or five feet.
About mid-day we got to some chacos, or plantations, and stopped at one
for breakfast, as it belonged to a “pariente,” or relation, of my captain
Pedro. The barraca was, however, empty, and the whole place seemed left
to take care of itself. It was said that the people had gone to Cuatro
Ojos, on the river Piray, the port for the town of Santa Cruz de la
Sierra, the most important place in the north-east of Bolivia. There was
not much to lose in the chaco, for the chocolotales have no fruit at this
season, and the “caña,” or sugar-cane, was not ripe, and the only edible
things to be found in the clearing were pumpkins, called here “oquejos”
(the nearest spelling that I can get in Spanish, the “qu” standing for
“k,” but “okehose” in English would give the nearest pronunciation), and
in Brazil “jurumus” and “sapallos.” We helped ourselves to some of these
as an addition to our chupe, and after our meal proceeded on our journey,
the wind blowing so cold and strong that we made very poor progress. At
nightfall we were still a good way from the puerto for Trinidad, so we
stopped for the night at another of the chacos, which are now encountered
pretty frequently on either side of the Ybari.
July 9th. The thermometer during the night went down to 52½°, and from
one’s feelings it might easily be thought that we were travelling in the
northern hemisphere instead of in the southern. We arrived at the port of
Trinidad about 9 a.m., and finding that the town was about two leagues
from the river, we prepared our breakfast and sent messengers to the town
for horses to ride there on, and for bullock-carts for the baggage. The
so-called port of Trinidad is like all the other ports on the rivers,
simply a place where, from the depth of water, canoes can be moored to
the bank, a few steps being cut up the bank to the shed at the top where
the sentinel, whose duty it is to watch the canoes, finds shelter.