_The Forest_
An excursion through the unexplored bush in South America is no light
undertaking, and after a few hours employed in making his way through
primeval forest the traveller obtains a fair idea of some of the
terrible ordeals which had to be passed through by the early Spanish
invaders and buccaneering marauders. Besides being hampered by heavy
armour and accoutrements, they were dependent for food on the wild
animals they killed or the roots and fruits they discovered, unless by
chance they encountered natives from whom they could obtain frugal
supplies. The uncertainty of obtaining subsistence, the dangers which
lay in wait for them from the poisoned arrows of the natives, and the
risks they ran of losing their way, all added to the perils of their
expeditions. For in most favourable circumstances a journey over hills
clad with the densest vegetation, and across streams and rivers
inhabited by obnoxious reptiles, is distinctly trying. At the invitation
of a friend I started out to visit a camp occupied by himself and his
fellow-surveyors situated on the hills lying to the west side of the
Chagres River. I prepared for this journey in a costume which in my
ignorance I thought suitable for the occasion, including heavy boots and
leggings, and a complete change of clothing in case of emergencies. At
the headquarters in the town from which we started it was politely
pointed out to me that I evidently did not understand the sort of
country we were to travel through, and if the rig-out I had assumed was
the best my wardrobe could furnish, my companion would endeavour to
supply me with a more suitable equipment. He produced a pair of breeches
which no self-respecting tramp would have rescued from a dust-bin, the
remainder of a shirt upon which moths had made many a hearty meal, a
thick pair of stockings that would have gladdened the heart of an
Arctic explorer, a pair of boots such as are affected by those who go
down into the bowels of the earth in sewers, and a hat so thickly coated
with mud and clay that it might easily have been mistaken for a crude
specimen of pottery. The fact that the breeches and shirt had been made
originally for a smaller man detracted somewhat from their comfort,
although the figure presented when arrayed in the garments would have
aroused the envy of a professional tramp. When we were well into the
forest the suitableness of this attire became apparent, and I owed a
debt of gratitude to my considerate companion for having saved a
respectable portion of my wardrobe from utter destruction. A change of
clothing was tied up in a piece of stout waterproof material and
consigned to the charge of one of the negroes who were to accompany us,
and so, armed with a long pole, we started. The party consisted of my
companion and myself, three negroes, and two half-bred Indians, who
carried between them fresh supplies and provisions for the camp. The
first part of the way lay through an old track, and offered no
difficulty. After traversing a distance of about a mile we came to a
muddy river, on the banks of which stood a small Indian village,
composed of rude huts and shacks. The human beings who inhabited these
patched-up, nondescript dwellings were about as mixed in breed as their
houses in construction, and as indolent and dirty as their domiciles
were foul and evil-smelling. We were detained for some time while search
was being made for the boatman whose services were required to paddle us
to the other side, and as we stood looking across the swiftly flowing,
muddy river, I had an opportunity of becoming more closely acquainted
with the camp-followers who accompanied us. A tall, middle-aged negro,
called Harvey, who with difficulty was balancing a bundle upon his head,
made himself conspicuous by his never-ceasing chatter. No threats from
my companion served to stop his garrulity, which was explained by the
fact that he had not recovered from the festivities of the previous day,
the anniversary of his King’s birthday. Like a true Britisher, this
Jamaican had indulged in royal toasts until he had almost assumed a
regal demeanour of independence; and when he was told that he was drunk
he denied it in so lofty a manner that it only confirmed the correctness
of our diagnosis. “Harvey,” said my companion sternly, “don’t you know
what the Bible says will happen to men who take too much strong drink?”
“Don’t kere what the Bible say ’bout strong drink, cap’n, but I should
like fin’ out what it say ’bout dem dam Indians what ain’t to be found
when dey’re wanted, keeping English and American gentlemen waitin’ about
in de burnin’ sun, ’bout near as hot as de hell fire he sure to go to.”
“Shut up, Harvey, and don’t talk so much.”
“What God give me tongue for, eh, massa, and what have I brains for if
not to use?” he asked plaintively. At last the missing boatman put in an
appearance, and we gingerly entered the long dug-out, which was very
leaky, and about one-third full of water, and pushed off for the
opposite bank. The Indian, who seated himself in either the bow or
stern, I fail to remember which, both ends seeming so exactly alike,
skilfully propelled the long, wobbly craft to the other side, and we
climbed up the steep, muddy bank, aided by the long lianas which hung
down from tall trees towering overhead. We were soaking wet, as it had
been necessary to sit down in the canoe to prevent overbalancing it; but
after a little experience of the trail we had now got to, I realised
that to be wet through was a normal condition to be in when travelling
through the bush. The first mile or so we kept by the bank of the river
along a trail which had been cleared by the ever useful machete. This
trail was narrow, and necessitated our walking in Indian file, and for a
part of the way I found myself in front of the loquacious Harvey, who,
slightly sobered by the recent exertion of climbing up the bank with his
load, continued babbling about Biblical subjects with ludicrous effect.
His mind was greatly exercised in trying to recollect what really was
the punishment to be meted out to rum-drinkers, and also as to what the
sin could be which admitted of no possible forgiveness. It was
marvellous how he managed to keep jabbering with his tongue while
occupied with balancing the great bundle on his head and evading the
pitfalls which beset his feet. When at last the trail led into the
gloomy forest, it was a welcome escape from the heat and glare of the
sun, the fierce rays of which had been pouring down upon us for over two
hours. Charles Kingsley says that the first feeling he had on entering
the primeval forest was one of helplessness, confusion, awe, and all but
terror. Most of these feelings did come over me in the course of the
journey, but the first emotion
[Illustration: HARVEY.]
was one of thankfulness for the deep shade. It is difficult to convey
any idea of the luxuriant growth we were now amongst. Trees of all
shapes and colours in profusion rose around us with a superabundant
wealth of foliage so dense that it was impossible to find one’s way
without a compass or a guide, and even the trail itself could only be
traced by experts. Tall trees with parasitical creepers inextricably
confused reaching upwards in long curving lines bewildered the eye.
Fan-shaped palms, giant tree ferns and sword-like cactus that would make
a small fortune for a florist at home grew all around. Strings of
wire-like stems lay across the path, and it required no small skill and
the utmost watchfulness to avoid being tripped up at every turn, and
when we stumbled and put out our hands to keep from falling they met
with prickly stems that stabbed like needles. Creepers twirled around
and in and out, crossing and recrossing one another, defying all efforts
to trace them to their source, bewildering as a ship’s rigging in a
storm all broken and loose and entangled past hope of straightening out.
Sedgy swamps, with long, sharp blades of leaves and fallen trees, often
blocked the path, while the light grew dimmer and dimmer the further we
penetrated into the forest fastnesses. At times we thought we must have
left the trail, so overgrown and dense it had become, and even the
guides who were supposed to know it were often puzzled, and frequently
the machete had to be resorted to in removing the vegetation that had
grown since the last traveller had passed that way. It is splendid
exercise walking or pushing your way through a jungle, for the exertion
the arms are called upon to put forth is nearly equal to that which the
legs have to perform. Loops and festoons threatened to lasso and hang us
at times, and whilst our eyes were engaged in watching for the dangers
threatening us above our feet would be caught in some vegetable snare
which the genii of the forest had spread for the intruder man. Orchids
grew high up out of reach, and everywhere exquisite and grotesque forms
presented themselves. Tiny humming-birds flitted past us, flashes of
iridescent colour, and giant butterflies hovered over flowers as
brilliant as themselves. Weird sounds from unseen monkeys, parrots, and
toucans, high, piercing notes of birds, and the hum of innumerable
insects confused the ears, as did the strange forms the eyes. We passed
many trees of enormous girth, the lower portions of their trunks
buttressed like Gothic cathedrals, and contrasting strangely with the
tall, slender proportions of others, that seemed like long lengths of
water-pipes set on end, through which a chimney-sweeper’s broom had been
pushed, the brush protruding at the top. Often we came to streams,
across which a few thin trees had been thrown to form a primitive
bridge, and the passage of these with boots thick with slippery clay was
quite an acrobatic feat, very much like walking the greasy pole.
Sometimes long poles were stuck into the mud at the bottom of the river
to assist the traveller across, but only occasionally did we meet with
this luxury, and when the sticks we carried proved too short to reach
the bottom we used them as a tight-rope walker does his balancing pole.
Once I fell, but the water only came up to my waist, so that I waded to
the opposite bank and climbed out. But the wading was not easy, for the
bottom of the stream was thickly padded with fallen leaves, which formed
a pulpy mass of decaying vegetation and prevented a firm foothold. We
could not help admiring the way the half-sober Harvey crossed these
bridges, his large feet turned out, his arms outstretched with pole in
one hand and machete in the other, and the huge bundle cleverly balanced
on his head. His performance would have evoked loud applause from the
critical audience of a modern variety show, but we refrained from
applauding lest we should swell his thick head. After stumbling, hot,
damp, and perspiring, along the greasy track, stepping through muddy
pools and morasses and wading through streams for hours, we came to a
large clearing in the forest that had been made by the surveying party.
It was the last camp they had occupied before proceeding to that which
we were on our way to visit. We sat down in the shelter of one of the
huts and rested. This was the first opportunity we had had of a seat,
for in the forest there are no grassy spots or convenient bowers for the
weary traveller to stretch himself and rest. Even when a fallen tree
appears to offer a seat, sharp, prickly thorns or venomous insects
prevent advantage being taken of it. Looking round at the now deserted
camp, we were much impressed by the ingenuity displayed by its builders,
for in the midst of the dense forest a circle about 300 feet in diameter
had been cleared. Huge trees had been felled, the thick undergrowth cut
down and burned, and from the smaller trees the huts or houses of the
camp had been constructed. No nails had been used, the uprights and
horizontals of the buildings being bound together by long withes. The
roofs were neatly thatched with palm leaves, and gave shelter from the
burning sun and heavy rains. Tables, benches, and beds were all
constructed out of thin trees tied together, and supported on shorter
lengths stuck into the ground. These were erected inside the huts, which
were about thirty feet long by six feet wide, and open at the ends and
sides. A large tree had been left as it fell, dividing the camp into two
parts, that for the native attendants being much larger than the one
reserved for the surveyors who employed them. My companion had been away
at the time this camp was abandoned, and was now on his way to rejoin
his companions in the new camp, about six miles distant in the forest.
The men who accompanied us all belonged to the new camp, and had only
left it a few days before to fetch provisions, supplies, newspapers,
periodicals, and letters from the nearest railway station. After a short
rest we started off again on a newer and more difficult trail, and as
little or no traffic had passed over it, the utmost vigilance was needed
on the part of the guides to detect the signs which marked it. The
bearers were further laden with three surveying rods, which had been
left at the old camp for them to bring along on their return. As the way
became more difficult, frequent digressions were made into the bush,
with the assistance of machetes, and often a halt was called and
consultations held as to whether we were on the trail or not. Darkness
was quickly falling, and we realised that it threatened to become a
serious matter should we fail to reach the camp before the light
completely faded. Harvey and one of the Indians lagged far behind, and
the three men who were with us displayed an anxiety I was quick to
notice and to share. The trail was lost! We plunged into the thick
vegetation, cutting our way with an energy born of fear, till
floundering up to the waists in a deep morass, we were forced to retrace
our steps. We now realised the awe that the forest can inspire, for in
the darkness which had suddenly descended it was impossible to see, and
the imagination conjured up snakes and odious things in close proximity.
To add to the horror of it all, my companion pointed out that we should
have to climb a tree and wait till morning. My tired limbs ached in
anticipation of the further effort required of them. My feet were sore
and heavy, and the cool night air made my flesh creep under damp,
clinging garments, and I felt ready to sink down and let events take
their course, without attempting to battle any more against
circumstances. We shouted, in hopes that our voices might reach the camp
and bring assistance, shouted all together, until our faces must have
been as black as the darkness that surrounded us. The negroes and
Indians were in dreadful apprehension, their imaginations conjuring up
demons of the wood and “duppies” in every moving branch. Strange,
uncanny noises added to the unpleasantness of the situation, and when I
ventured to quote to my companion, “There is a pleasure in the pathless
wood,” he retorted, “It must have retired for the night, as we can’t
find it. Still, it’s very gratifying to know it is around somewhere.” I
paid no attention, but continued, “There is a rapture by the lonely
shore.” He admitted that might be true, for, as he said, you knew where
you were. “There is society where none intrude,” I added. But by this
time my companion had no proper appreciation of Childe Harold’s
meditations, and implored me to help him in roaring, instead of wasting
my breath on stuff like poetry. At last we heard a faint “Halloo,” which
came from the opposite direction to that which we had been attempting to
take, and we made a fresh united effort to raise a loud yell. The
inhabitants of the forest, monkeys, parrots, and strange, unknown
animals, wondering doubtless what all the shouting was about, started
jabbering, screaming, and growling, as if to drown our cries. We had
been standing with water reaching to our knees, overcome with an acute
sense of helplessness and afraid to venture in any direction. The
answering shouts from the camp grew louder, and we knew that help was at
hand; and when at last lights appeared, and, guided by our shouts,
approached us, we experienced a feeling of intense relief. We made our
way towards the lights, and found they were carried by a party of men
from the camp, who conducted us to the not far-distant trail, and after
about a half-hour’s walk we arrived at the camp we had been seeking. A
hearty welcome from “the boys,” who had grown anxious at our
non-appearance, and a meal consisting of hot coffee, biscuits, Boston
beans, and jam was quickly set before us in one of the huts. In the dim
light of the oil lamp we did ample justice to this simple fare, for we
were as hungry as we were tired. At one end of the long hut six bunks
had been placed, and already some of the party had turned in for the
night, under the mosquito bars with which each was provided. It was only
when I tried to remove my soaking boots and raiment that I realised that
the bundle containing my dry clothing was in charge of Harvey, who was
far behind us in the bush. Guns were fired off to direct him and his
companion to the camp, but after waiting for a couple of hours we gave
up expecting their arrival until morning. I was rigged out in sleeping
clothes that were fairly dry, and turned in under a mosquito bar tired
out in body, but awake in mind. We talked together for some hours, and
speculated as to how poor Harvey and the Indian would be feeling, and
how they would spend the night. Doubtless Harvey would recall our
conversation of the morning, and would be thinking that the retribution
and punishment which we had told him overtake drunkards had caught him
up. One thing was quite certain, both he and his companions would be
almost scared to death by fear of evil spirits or “duppies,” which are
reported amongst the natives to inhabit the forest. All the strange
noises that they hear are put down as emanating from the mysterious
being who presides over the spirits that they believe infest the gloomy
recesses of the woods. Confused notions prevail among the Indians and
negroes, in spite of their outward adherence to the Christian faith, for
they still retain a strong though disguised belief in the superstitions
of their ancestors.
Harvey and his comrade had been perforce left in their distress, as it
would have been impossible to persuade or force any of their companions
to go in search of them. None of the camp, Indian or negro, would
venture after nightfall into the eerie caverns of the bush. Before sleep
came to me the rain fell with great violence, making a sound like waves
lashing upon rocks during a storm, and innumerable sand-flies found
their way under the mosquito curtain, and settled down to torment my
aching limbs. The “pesky” sand-fly, small and insignificant, can inflict
more suffering upon the human race than many another insect fifty times
its size. The sensation of myriads of these small flies hovering around
my feet felt at first as if innumerable particles of gritty dust had got
between the sheets, and I paid little heed to them; but after about an
hour of their attention I was fully convinced of my mistake, and
realised that the sand-flies had discovered a new feeding-ground.
Some years ago, when on board a steamer which had run ashore on the
Tampico River, in Mexico, I had experiences of what these small pests
were capable of accomplishing. On that occasion a companion and myself
had been so severely bitten about the ankles, wrists, and face that any
casual observer would have avoided contact with us for fear of taking
smallpox. Dreading a further experience of these insects, I covered up
my face with a handkerchief, and mumbled to myself the poet’s plea:
“I crave but this: That from the different kinds
Of insects cursing night and day
(The entomologist claims that he finds
Five hundred thousand so they say),
“Thou wilt at once destroy, annihilate,
Permit no longer to exist--
Efface, cut off, rub out, obliterate
The pesky sandfly from the list!”
At last half-stifled I fell into a disturbed slumber, from which, very
early in the morning, I was awakened by the screams of the birds,
monkeys, and parrots all round, and on looking out of the hut the
strange beauty of the scene made me eager to get up and go outside to
take ample stock of the camp and surroundings. The heavy morning mists
hung all around, imparting a soft, mysterious aspect to the forest. It
was as if an elusive veil of finest silver gauze had been spread from
tree to tree by hidden fairy fingers. The smoke ascending from the camp
fires seemed almost solid against the pearly background of the
[Illustration: SEBASTIAN.]
woods, and so unreal did it all appear that one expected every moment it
would fade away, as dreams do. And so it did, for as the sun rose higher
the mists melted and disappeared, and the strange outlines and varied
forms of trees and creeping vines stood plainly forth. We went down to a
stream that ran near the camp and bathed in water that was warm but
still refreshing. On our return we found the men whose huts were about
forty yards away from ours busy preparing and eating their morning meal,
sharpening machetes, spreading out damp clothes to dry, mending and
patching garments that seemed unworthy of attention, drying, or trying
to dry, great hobnailed boots by placing them over fires that shot up
threatening flames around them. One man was at a biscuit tin filled with
water, rinsing and beating a mud-stained shirt, in the vain endeavour to
cleanse it from the all-pervading dirt; while near him another hacked
with a machete at a pair of heavy top boots, removing great slices of
half-dried mud at every blow. But all of them abruptly ceased from their
occupations when Harvey and his comrade came shouting gleefully into the
clearing. They were sorry-looking wrecks, mud-stained and dishevelled,
with their clothes hanging about them in tatters. All the camp crowded
round them, and I was rather relieved to find that Harvey had not
abandoned the great bundle which contained, amongst other things, my
clothes; and while he untied the parcel we questioned him about his
experiences in the bush. He was quite sober now, but although he had
regained some of his natural obsequious manner, he was inclined to be a
trifle boastful after the night’s exploit. “What man dat say dere be
‘duppies’ in the wood?” he asked vehemently. “Dat man he lie, for dere
don’t be no ‘duppies,’ no, not one at all, in de whole bush. Dere don’t
be nothin’ ’cept them monkeys, tigers, snakes, and other tings.” “But
you were a little frightened, Harvey, weren’t you?” I inquired.
“No, massa, not a bit frightened, not a bit. Sebastian, he war kin’ o’
skeered, so I made him light a fire to keep away dem tiger cats, and
made him keep awake, to see if any ob dem ‘duppies’ was about. But dere
don’t be no ‘duppies,’ not a ting in de bush at all to be skeered of.”
In consideration for the trials the two men had passed through, they
were permitted to take a day off work and recover from the fright they
had undoubtedly received; and, if I am not mistaken, Harvey had suffered
more alarm than his dull and less imaginative companion. After this
interlude the day’s work began in real earnest, each surveyor taking
with him an escort of five or six labourers, to cut their way in
different directions, measuring levels and distances, and surveying the
contour of the country. The troches which they cut into the bush form
long, straight tunnels, but the progress they make is slow. Each day the
distance from the camp cut in this manner is increased, and parties have
a two hours’ walk through the troches before they arrive at the point
they had reached the previous day. The levels and the land surveyed
during the morning are carefully recorded and marked on the large charts
upon the return to camp. Thus day after day knowledge is gained of a
country hitherto untrodden by human footsteps. The party that I was
visiting had been engaged upon this work for over six months, and one of
their number had never once during all that period left the bush.
Magazines, newspapers, and letters arrived at camp once a week, but
visitors never came, and mine was the first strange face he had seen for
half a year. He was a quiet cultured, well-educated youth, energetic,
and in love with his work, well content to be gaining an experience in
his profession denied to those less venturous and plodding than himself.
On my return journey from the camp I was guided by a small Indian boy,
strong, fleet of foot, who although encumbered with my baggage yet
raced along the trail with such rapidity that I was in danger of losing
sight of him. After a mile or two I wished to call a halt, but was
unsuccessful in making him understand my wishes, so I was forced to keep
up with him as best I could, and wait until we arrived at the deserted
camp before taking a rest. When we arrived I sat again in the shelter
afforded by the now abandoned hut, and rested for an hour or more,
marvelling at the wonder all around me. Confused masses of shrubs and
plants met my gaze, which would have been greeted with enthusiastic
admiration if seen in English hot-houses. Wild bananas grew in large
clumps, their long leaves torn by the wind, their stems covered with
climbing ferns. Bamboos sixty or seventy feet high swayed in the
faintest breeze and creaked in every joint.
The richest woodland in northern latitudes is tame compared with the
tropical forest. During the midday heat the leaves where the sun beats
on them became lax and drooping and languishing for the rain to come and
cheer them. While I sat there under the shade of the rude cabin the heat
and tension became almost insupportable, and languor and sleepiness fell
upon me. As the sun blazed down upon the clearing myriads of humming,
buzzing insects filled the air. The white rolling clouds which passed
overhead were quickly changing to a leaden hue, and darkness,
intensified by contrast with the brilliant light it superseded, covered
the scene. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled, and deafened with its
noise. A mighty wind arose and swayed the tall trees all around, the
rustling of whose million leaves added to the roaring sound that made my
head grow dizzy. Then the rain came. Nothing can compare with the storm
that burst. Even the thickly padded roof of palm leaves above my head
was not impervious to the deluge, and very soon I was wet with the great
splashes that came bursting through. So violent was its descent, that
upon reaching the earth the water rebounded in all directions, so that
even had the roof proved water-tight, sufficient water found entrance
upwards to swamp the hut. The storm ceased as suddenly as it had come,
the black clouds dissipated and passed away, then the serene, deep blue
sky again looked down upon the glistening landscape. Before leaving the
clearing I strolled around, and one giant tree of enormous girth
attracted my attention. The buttresses at its base made by the roots
rising out of the ground formed huge stalls that would have accommodated
six good-sized ponies. Its age, not easily determined, must have been
great, and it had seen thousands of storms like the one that had just
passed over it. It was long past its early youth when Europeans first
landed on these shores. The ancients supposed that trees were all
immortal, and modern botanists have proved that many are almost
indestructible, and may have witnessed the struggles of the earliest
man. At last we started off to complete the journey home. When we
arrived at the bank of the river we were fortunate in discovering a
canoe moored to a branch. I felt a little reluctant to trust myself to
the skill of the mere boy who accompanied me, but there was no help for
it, so seating myself at one end of the narrow craft I awaited anxiously
our arrival on the opposite bank. In spite of his diminutive
proportions, however, the urchin was quite an adept with the paddle, and
accomplished the journey against a swiftly flowing stream in a manner
that showed he was accustomed to the navigation of the river. After we
landed the journey was comparatively easy, but I was glad when we
arrived at the headquarters house from which I had started. Finding my
way along the railway track past houses inhabited by workers on the
line, I arrived at the village and railway station, whence I got a train
that carried me back to comparative civilisation.
INDEX
Aborigines, 234, 236, 237, 238, 251, 294
Acla, 30, 32
Aconcagua, 177
Almagro, 140, 142, 161
Alonzo de Ojeda, 17, 18
Alpaca, the, 139
Amazon, the, 220, 298
Antofagasta, 157
Araucanians, 158, 161, 162, 163
Architecture (Peru), 151
Arequipa, 149, 151
Argentina, 167
Arica, 145
Armadillo, the, 183
Asuncion, 226, 231
Atahualpa, 128, 141, 142
Atrato, river, 72, 79, 80
Avenida, Beira-mar, 265, 266
“ Central (Rio), 266
“ de Mayo (Buenos Ayres), 168
Ayacusho (battle of), 153
B
Bahia, 295, 296
Bahia Blanca, 170, 171
Balboa, 57
Balbao, Vasco Nuñez de, 18, 19, 21, 22, 26, 27, 28, 30, 32, 33
Balmaceda, José, 162, 164
Barranquilla, 124
Beira-mar, Avenida, 265, 266
Belgrano, General, 241
Bello Horizonte, 288, 290
Bird life on the plains, 195
Bogota, 117, 125
Boliche (native spirit), 183
Bolivar, Simon, 117, 144, 152, 240
Bolivia, 146, 152, 154, 155
Botanical Gardens (Rio), 276
Botofogo, 265, 266
Braganza, Duke of, 255
Branding stock, 190
Brazil, war with Paraguay, 245, 249, 350
Brazilians, 255, 257, 259, 268, 269, 270
Breaking-in horses, 188
Buccaneers, 34-47
Buenos Ayres, 167-170
Bulwer-Clayton Treaty, 76
C
Cabral, 252
Caliche deposits, 165
Callao, 131, 138
Camp, the, 180-196
Canal Commission, 62
“ Projects, 72-96
“ Zone, 50
Cape Frio, 253
Cartagena, 18, 40, 119, 125
Cattle Industry, 198
Chagres, 41, 45, 46
“ river, 55, 56, 86, 91, 338
Chamber of Deputies (Rio), 271
Children of the Sun, 138
Chili, 145
Chilian army in Lima, 135
Chilian nitre, 164
Chilians, the, 157
Christobal, 50
Churches in Panama, 99-102
Coca, 146
Cocaine, 146
Cochrane, Lord Thomas, 162
Coelho, Goncalo, 265
Coffee, 327-337
Colombia, 117, 125
Colon, 48, 50, 52, 53, 63
Colon (Argentina), 201-209
Columbus, Christopher, 17, 48
Concordia, 210
Condor, the (of the Andes), 175
Conquest of Peru, 142
Coquimbo, 157
Conquistadores, 20, 22, 26, 32, 117, 128, 140-143
Copacabana (Rio), 276
Corcovada, 263
Cordillera, the, 175
Corrientes, 199, 216
Cortex, 72
Corumba, 220-222
Cruces, 42, 43, 45
Culebra cutting, 54, 57
“ slides at, 94
Cullen, Dr., 78
Curious burial customs, 105
Cuyaba, 220
Cuzco, 138, 140, 149-151
D
Davis, Admiral (report on Canal), 80
De Lesseps, 50, 80-84, 86-88
Deodoro, Marshal, 261, 279
Dias, Fernão, 292
Discovery of gold in Brazil, 292
Drake, Sir Francis, 120
Drysalting in Argentine, 204
Dutch in South America, 255-256
Dwellings, primitive, 22
E
Early Adventurers, 17-25
Ecuador, 127-130
Estancias, 173, 203
Excursions from Rio, 286
F
Fazendas, 329
Flat arch in Panama, 94, 101
Forest, a tropical, 338-350
Formosa, 224
Francia, Dr., 228, 240-243
French canal company, 83, 86, 90, 91
Frey Bentos, 200, 209
Frigorificos, 186, 200, 205
Frontin, Dr. Paul de, 274
Frozen meat trade, 204
G
Galisteo, 76
Galvao, 72
Gatun, 57
Gauchos, 180, 184-188
Germans in South America, 142, 156, 185, 251, 273, 286, 302
Gisborne, Lionel, 78
Gondra, President of Paraguay, 246
Goyaz, 220
Grand Chaco, 222
Great Central Railway, Brazil, 289, 294
Guano deposits, 138, 166
Guarani Indians, 192, 232, 234, 247
Guayaquil, 127
H
Hay-Herran, treaty, 93
Hides, 206
Horses (Argentine), 188, 206
Hospitals (Canal Zone), 53, 63
Huascar, 128, 141
Humboldt, 166
I
Incas of Peru, 128, 134, 138, 139, 144, 161
Ipanema, 276
Isthmian Canal Commission, 91
Italians in Brazil, 251
Itamarity Palace, 272
J
Jara, Albino, President of Paraguay, 246
Jenkins’s ear (war of), 120
Jesuits in South America, 220, 234, 236, 242, 254, 302, 320
João IV, 255
João VI, 257, 276
Jockey Club, Buenos Ayres, 168, 170
José de Garay, 76
Journey across the Andes, 176, 177
L
Labour on the isthmus, 55, 60, 71
Lage, Antonio, 278, 282, 283
Lage Iramos, 295, 298
Lages River, 275
Lake Titicaca, 151, 156, 157
Land of Nitrates, 157-166
La Paz, 149, 156, 222
La Plata, 171, 172
Liebig Extract of Meat Co., 200-203, 209
Leme, 276
Leopoldina Railway, 286, 287
Light and Power Company, Rio, 275
“ “ “ São Paulo, 319
Lima, 131, 132, 134
Limon Bay, 51
Liot, Captain, R.N., report on Canal route, 75
Live Industry, a, 197, 207
Llama, the 139
Locusts in Paraguay, 243
Lopez, Carlos, 244
Lopez, Francesco, 229, 244, 245
Luque, 140
Lynch, Madame, 244
M
Magdalena, river, 124
Manzanilla, island, 48
Maranhão, revolt of, 255
Martinique, women of, 64-66
Maté, 186, 192-194
Matto Grosso, 220, 245
Melgarejo, President of Bolivia, 155, 156
Mendoza, 173-174
“ wine of, 213
Mercedes, 216
Mihanovitch Steamship Company, 208
Minas Geraes, 288, 291
Miramar, 160
Missiones, 199
Misti, mountain, 151
Mitre, General Bartolomé, 197
Mollendo, 149, 150
Montevideo, 200, 209
Moreno, 129
Morgan, Henry, 36, 37, 45
N
National Library, Rio, 267
Negro labour, 60
Nelson, Horatio, 76
New Granada, 117
Newspaper offices, Rio, 267
Nicaragua, canal scheme, 76, 77, 92
Nictheroy (Rio), 265
Nitrates, 164
Novo Friburgo, 288
O
O’Higgins, 160, 162
Opera House (Rio), 267
Ouro Preto, 289
Ouvidor, Rua do (Rio), 265-268
P
Palace of Fine Arts (Rio), 267
Palacete do Friburgo (Rio), 272
Panama, 17, 33, 40
“ cemetery, 105
“ churches, 99, 100, 101
“ country life, 67
“ founded, 97
“ old, 107
“ Plaza, 108
“ Railroad, 49
“ scandals, 50
“ social functions in, 113, 116
Panamanians, 104, 150
Paraguay, 208, 226, 232, 240, 260
“ river, 214, 219, 238, 241
Parahyba, river, 275
Parana, river, 200, 238, 300
Parnahyba Falls, 319
Paulistas, 254, 293
Paysandu, 209
Pearl Islands, 32
Pedrarias, 29, 140
Pedro I, 259
Penna, President of Brazil, 273
Penteado, Condé de, 310
Peoples of Brazil, 249
Pernambuco, 253, 296, 297
Peru, 136-147
Petropolis, 286
Piraguas, 124
Pirapora, 323
Pizarro, 20, 153, 161, 162
Plaza de Mayo, Buenos Ayres, 168
Politics in Colombia, 119
Poncho, the, 186
Portobello, 37, 38
Portuguese, 252, 254
“ houses, 300
Posadas, 214
Prado, Antonio, 330
Puno, 151
Q
Quito, 127
R
Railways of Peru, 144
Resources of Peru, 137
Revolutions in Colombia, 119
“ in Ecuador, 130
“ in Paraguay, 245
“ in Rio, 280-281
Rhea, the, 181, 182
Rio Branco, Baron de, 272
Rio de Janeiro, 254, 328
“ “ harbour, 263, 265
River Plate, 220
Rocafuerte, 129
Rogas, Liberado M., 247
Roosevelt, Theodore, 59, 95, 103
Rosario, 170, 171
Royal Mail Steam-Packet Company, 75, 295, 299
Rural Society, Argentina, 206
S
Saavedra, Angel, 72
Saladero, the, 186, 198, 199, 200
Salto, 210, 213
San Lorenzo, 40
San Martin, General, 128, 160, 177, 178, 212, 217
San Miguel, Gulf of, 28
Santa Cruz (Rio), 278
Santa Maria de la Antigua del Darien, 18
São Paulo, 254, 262, 267, 299-318
“ “ Early history, 302, 328
“ “ Light and Power Company, 319
São Paulo Railway, 317
“ “ Theatre, 309
Savana, river, 78
Selfridge, Commander, 79
Serra do Mar, 301
Sharp’s Map, 220
Shipbuilding in Brazil, 283
Slave Trade, 34, 251.
Swiss colony in Brazil, 288
Sun worshippers, 139
T
Tacna, 145
Tarapaca, 145
Tehuantepec route, 76, 80
Temple of the Sun, 151
Tieté, river, 300, 322
Tijuca, 276
Ticlio, 144
Titicaca, lake, 151, 156, 157
Tobago, 59
Tortuga, 34, 35, 47
Tumbez, 138, 140
Trans-Andean Railway, 178
U
Uruguay, 199, 200, 208, 246
V
Valdivia, 162
Valparaiso, 157, 158
Venezuela, 117
Vernon, Admiral, 121
Vespucci, Amerigo, 253
Vianna, island, 278
Villetta, 224, 248
Vina do Mar, 160
W
Wentworth, General, 121
Wheelwright’s survey for Canal, 75
Y
Yellow fever, 124
Yerba (maté), 186, 192, 193, 194, 232
Ypiranga, 306
WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD.,
PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH,
* * * * *
A Page of Travel-Books
California: An Englishman’s Impression of the Golden State.
By A. T. JOHNSON. With many illustrations. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt,
10s. 6d. net.
Mr. Johnson declares that California is a land “where wealth accumulates
and men decay.” He notes the Californian’s egoism and distrust, and,
without dwelling on the history or politics of the State, gives a record
of observations of the simple and everyday things of life in the Far
West.
Everyman’s Eldorado--British South America.
By EDITH A. BROWNE, Author of “Peeps at Greece and Spain,” etc.
Fully illustrated. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, 125. 6d. net.
British Guiana is an undeveloped country with a high commercial value
and a delightful climate: a land where the holiday-maker can explore
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of unique surroundings. Miss Edith A. Browne relates the history of the
country, discusses its future, and in her charming style gives
picturesque descriptions.
Half Hours in the Levant.
By ARCHIBALD B. SPENS, Author of “Love’s Outlaws,” etc. With 32
illustrations. Crown 8vo, 1s. net.
Mr. Spens is a novelist of some repute, and this rambling and discursive
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He visited Algeria, Constantinople, Corsica, Crete, Naples, and many
other places of interest. The book might be compared to Mark Twain’s
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The Lords of the Devil’s Paradise.
By G. SIDNEY PATERNOSTER, Author of “The Hand of the Spoiler,” etc.
With several illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 5s. net.
This book tells the story of the Putumayo Rubber Atrocities in its
entirety, putting the blame on the right shoulders and showing the steps
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account, and his description is therefore authoritative. Several
illustrations from photographs emphasize the truth of the story.
LONDON: STANLEY PAUL & CO.
31 ESSEX STREET, STRAND, W.C.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] _Ilex paraguayensis_ is the scientific name of the yerba shrub or
tree. Amongst other varieties from which tea is obtained are the _I.
curitibensis_, _I. gigantea_, _I. ovalifolia_, _I. humboldtiana_.
[2] Bartolomé Mitre was born in 1821, and was, after a military career,
selected President in 1862. In 1865 he allied his country with Brazil
in operations against Paraguay.
[3] One or two of the planters were notable exceptions to the general
opposition to the liberation. Antonio du Silva Prado, a wealthy
Paulista and the owner of hundreds of slaves, performed a noble act
when he set all his negroes at liberty before the law was passed, and
many planters in São Paulo followed his example by freeing their slaves
forthwith.