and sometimes by poisoning the water with the juice of a vine called
barbasco. The “peixe boy,” “vaca marina,” or “manatee,”—all three names
being synonymes—is one of the chief animals of their pursuit. All the
waters of the Amazon valley abound with manatees, probably of several
species, and these large creatures are captured by the harpoon, just as
seals or walrus are taken. Porpoises also frequent the South-American
rivers and large fresh-water fish of numerous species. The game hunted
by the Amazonian Indians can scarcely be termed noble. We have seen that
the large _mammalia_ are few, and thinly distributed in the tropical
forest. With the exception of the jaguar and peccary, the chase is
limited to small quadrupeds—as the capibara, the paca, agouti—to many
kinds of monkeys, and an immense variety of birds. The monkey is the
most common game, and is not only eaten by all the Amazonian Indians,
but by most of them considered as the choicest of food.
In procuring their game the hunters sometimes use the common bow and
arrow, but most of the tribes are in possession of a weapon which they
prefer to all others for this particular purpose. It is an implement of
death so original in its character and so singular in its construction
as to deserve a special and minute description.
The weapon I allude to is the “blow-gun,” called “pucuna” by the Indians
themselves, “gravitana” by the Spaniards, and “cerbatana” by the
Portuguese of Brazil.
When the Amazonian Indian wishes to manufacture for himself a _pucuna_
he goes out into the forest and searches for two tall, straight stems of
the “pashiuba miri” palm (_Iriartea setigera_). These he requires of
such thickness that one can be contained within the other. Having found
what he wants, he cuts both down and carries them home to his molocca.
Neither of them is of such dimensions as to render this either
impossible or difficult.
He now takes a long slender rod—already prepared for the purpose—and
with this pushes out the pith from both stems, just as boys do when
preparing their pop-guns from the stems of the elder-tree. The rod thus
used is obtained from another species of _Iriartea_ palm, of which the
wood is very hard and tough. A little tuft of fern-root, fixed upon the
end of the rod, is then drawn backward and forward through the tubes,
until both are cleared of any pith which may have adhered to the
interior; and both are polished by this process to the smoothness of
ivory. The palm of smaller diameter, being scraped to a proper size, is
now inserted into the tube of the larger, the object being to correct
any crookedness in either, should there be such; and if this does not
succeed, both are whipped to some straight beam or post, and thus left
till they become straight. One end of the bore, from the nature of the
tree, is always smaller than the other; and to this end is fitted a
mouth-piece of two peccary tusks to concentrate the breath of the hunter
when blowing into the tube. The other end is the muzzle; and near this,
on the top, a sight is placed, usually a tooth of the “paca” or some
other rodent animal. This sight is glued on with a gum which another
tropic tree furnishes. Over the outside, when desirous of giving the
weapon an ornamental finish, the maker winds spirally a shining creeper,
and then the _pucuna_ is ready for action.
Sometimes only a single shank of palm is used, and instead of the pith
being pushed out, the stem is split into two equal parts throughout its
whole extent. The heart substance being then removed, the two pieces are
brought together, like the two divisions of a cedarwood pencil, and
tightly bound with a sipo.
The _pucuna_ is usually about an inch and a half in diameter at the
thickest end, and the bore about equal to that of a pistol of ordinary
calibre. In length, however, the weapon varies from eight to twelve
feet.
This singular instrument is designed, not for propelling a bullet, but
an arrow; but as this arrow differs altogether from the common kind it
also needs to be described.
The blow-gun arrow is about fifteen or eighteen inches long, and is made
of a piece of split bamboo; but when the “patawa” palm can be found,
this tree furnishes a still better material, in the long spines that
grow out from the sheathing bases of its leaves. These are 18 inches in
length, of a black color, flattish though perfectly straight. Being cut
to the proper length—which most of them are without cutting—they are
whittled at one end to a sharp point. This point is dipped about three
inches deep in the celebrated “curare” poison; and just where the poison
mark terminates, a notch is made, so that the head will be easily broken
off when the arrow is in the wound. Near the other end a little soft
down of silky cotton (the floss of the _bombax ceiba_) is twisted around
into a smooth mass of the shape of a spinning-top, with its larger end
towards the nearer extremity of the arrow. The cotton is held in its
place by being lightly whipped on by the delicate thread or fibre of a
_bromelia_, and the mass is just big enough to fill the tube by gently
pressing it inward.
The arrow thus made is inserted, and whenever the game is within reach
the Indian places his mouth to the lower end or mouth-piece, and with a
strong “puff,” which practice enables him to give, he sends the little
messenger upon its deadly errand. He can hit with unerring aim at the
distance of forty or fifty paces; but he prefers to shoot in a direction
nearly vertical, as in that way he can take the surest aim. As his
common game—birds and monkeys—are usually perched upon the higher
branches of tall trees, their situation just suits him. Of course it is
not the mere wound of the arrow that kills these creatures, but the
poison, which in two or three minutes after they have been hit, will
bring either bird or monkey to the ground. When the latter is struck he
would be certain to draw out the arrow; but the notch, already
mentioned, provides against this, as the slightest wrench serves to
break off the envenomed head.
These arrows are dangerous things,—even for the manufacturer of them to
play with: they are therefore carried in a quiver, and with great
care,—the quiver consisting either of a bamboo joint or a neat wicker
case.
The weapons of war used by the forest tribes are the common bow and
arrows, also tipped with _curare_, and the “macana,” or war-club, a
species peculiar to South America, made out of the hard heavy wood of
the _pissaba_ palm. Only one or two tribes use the spear; and both the
“bolas” and lazo are quite unknown, as such weapons would not be
available among the trees of the forest. These are the proper arms of
the Horse-Indian, the dweller on the open plains; but without them, for
all war purposes, the forest tribes have weapons enough, and,
unfortunately, make a too frequent use of them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE WATER-DWELLERS OF MARACAIBO.
The Andes mountains, rising in the extreme southern point of South
America, not only extend throughout the whole length of that continent,
but continue on through Central America and Mexico, under the name of
“Cordilleras de Sierra Madre;” and still farther north to the shores of
the Arctic Sea, under the very inappropriate appellation of the “Rocky
Mountains.” You must not suppose that these stupendous mountains form
one continuous elevation. At many places they furcate into various
branches, throwing off spurs, and sometime parallel “sierras,” between
which lie wide “valles,” or level plains of great extent. It is upon
these high plateaux—many of them elevated 7,000 feet above the sea—that
the greater part of the Spanish-American population dwells; and on them
too are found most of the large cities of Spanish South America and
Mexico.
These parallel chains meet at different points, forming what the
Peruvians term “nodas” (knots); and, after continuing for a distance in
one great cordillera, again bifurcate. One of the most remarkable of
these bifurcations of the Andes occurs about latitude 2° N. There the
gigantic sierra separates into two great branches, forming a shape like
the letter Y, the left limb being that which is usually regarded as the
main continuation of these mountains through the Isthmus of Panama,
while the right forms the eastern boundary of the great valley of the
Magdalena river; and then, trending in an eastwardly direction along the
whole northern coast of South America to the extreme point of the
promontory of Paria.
Each of these limbs again forks into several branches or spurs,—the
whole system forming a figure that may be said to bear some resemblance
to a genealogical tree containing the pedigree of four or five
generations.
It is only with one of the bifurcations of the right or eastern sierra
that this sketch has to do. On reaching the latitude of 7° north, this
chain separates itself into two wings, which, after diverging widely to
the east and west, sweep round again towards each other, as if desirous
to be once more united. The western wing advances boldly to this
reunion; but the eastern, after vacillating for a time, as if uncertain
what course to take, turns its back abruptly on its old comrade, and
trends off in a due east direction, till it sinks into insignificance
upon the promontory of Paria.
The whole mass of the sierra, however, has not been of one mind; for, at
the time of its indecision, a large spur detaches itself from the main
body, and sweeps round, as if to carry out the union with the left wing
advancing from the west. Although they get within sight of each other,
they are not permitted to meet,—both ending abruptly before the circle
is completed, and forming a figure bearing a very exact resemblance to
the shoe of a racehorse. Within this curving boundary is enclosed a vast
valley,—as large as the whole of Ireland,—the central portion of which,
and occupying about one third of its whole extent, is a sheet of water,
known from the days of the discovery of America, as the _Lake of
Maracaibo_.
It obtained this appellation from the name of an Indian cazique, who was
met upon its shores by the first discoverers; but although this lake was
known to the earliest explorers of the New World,—although it lies
contiguous to many colonial settlements both on the mainland and the
islands of the Caribbean Sea,—the lake itself, and the vast territory
that surrounds it, remain almost as unknown and obscure as if they were
situated among the central deserts of Africa.
And yet the valley of Maracaibo is one of the most interesting portions
of the globe,—interesting not only as a _terra incognita_, but on
account of the diversified nature of its scenery and productions. It
possesses a _fauna_ of a peculiar kind, and its _flora_ is one of the
richest in the world, not surpassed,—perhaps not equalled,—by that of
any other portion of the torrid zone. To give a list of its vegetable
productions would be to enumerate almost every species belonging to
tropical America. Here are found the well-known medicinal plants,—the
sassafras and sarsaparilla, guaiacum, copaiva, cinchona, and cuspa, or
_Cortex Angosturæ_; here are the deadly poisons of _barbasco_ and
_mavacure_, and alongside them the remedies of the “palo sano,” and
_mikania guaco_. Here likewise grow plants and trees producing those
well-known dyes of commerce, the blue indigo, the red arnotto, the
lake-colored chica, the brazilletto, and dragon’s blood; and above all,
those woods of red, gold, and ebon tints, so precious in the eyes of the
cabinet and musical-instrument makers of Europe.
Yet, strange to say, these rich resources lie, like treasures buried in
the bowels of the earth, or gems at the bottom of the sea, still
undeveloped. A few small lumbering establishments near the entrance of
the lake,—here and there a miserable village, supported by a little
coast commerce in dye-woods, or cuttings of ebony,—now and then a hamlet
of fishermen,—a “hato” of goats and sheep; and at wider intervals, a
“ganaderia” of cattle, or a plantation of cocoa-trees (_cocale_),
furnish the only evidence that man has asserted his dominion over this
interesting region. These settlements, however, are sparsely
distributed, and widely distant from one another. Between them stretch
broad savannas and forests,—vast tracts, untilled and even unexplored,—a
very wilderness, but a wilderness rich in natural resources.
The Lake of Maracaibo is often, though erroneously, described as an arm
of the sea. This description only applies to the _Gulf of Maracaibo_,
which is in reality a portion of the Caribbean Sea. The lake itself is
altogether different, and is a true fresh-water lake, separated from the
gulf by a narrow neck or strait. Within this strait—called “boca,” or
mouth—the salt water does not extend, except during very high tides or
after long-continued _nortes_ (north winds), which have the effect of
driving the sea-water up into the lake, and imparting to some portions
of it a saline or brackish taste. This, however, is only occasional and
of temporary continuance; and the waters of the lake, supplied by a
hundred streams from the horseshoe sierra that surrounds it, soon return
to their normal character of freshness.
The shape of Lake Maracaibo is worthy of remark. The main body of its
surface is of oval outline,—the longer diameter running north and
south,—but taken in connection with the straits which communicate with
the outer gulf, it assumes a shape somewhat like that of a Jew’s-harp,
or rather of a kind of guitar, most in use among Spanish Americans, and
known under the name of “mandolin” (or “bandolon”). To this instrument
do the natives sometimes compare it.
Another peculiarity of Lake Maracaibo, is the extreme shallowness of the
water along its shores. It is deep enough towards the middle part; but
at many points around the shore, a man may wade for miles into the
water, without getting beyond his depth. This peculiarity arises from
the formation of the valley in which it is situated. Only a few spurs of
the sierras that surround it approach near the edge of the lake.
Generally from the bases of the mountains, the land slopes with a very
gentle declination,—so slight as to have the appearance of a perfectly
horizontal plain,—and this is continued for a great way under the
surface of the water. Strange enough, however, after getting to a
certain distance from the shore, the shoal water ends as abruptly as the
escarpment of a cliff, and a depth almost unfathomable succeeds,—as if
the central part of the lake was a vast subaqueous ravine, bounded on
both sides by precipitous cliffs. Such, in reality, is it believed to
be.
A singular phenomenon is observed in the Lake Maracaibo, which, since
the days of Columbus, has not only puzzled the curious, but also the
learned and scientific, who have unsuccessfully attempted to explain it.
This phenomenon consists in the appearance of a remarkable light, which
shows itself in the middle of the night, and at a particular part of the
lake, near its southern extremity. This light bears some resemblance to
the _ignis fatuus_ of our own marshes; and most probably is a
phosphorescence of a similar nature, though on a much grander
scale,—since it is visible at a vast distance across the open water. As
it is seen universally in the same direction, and appears fixed in one
place, it serves as a beacon for the fishermen and dye-wood traders who
navigate the waters of the lake,—its longitude being precisely that of
the straits leading outward to the gulf. Vessels that have strayed from
their course, often regulate their reckoning by the mysterious “Farol de
Maracaibo” (Lantern of Maracaibo),—for by this name is the natural
beacon known the mariners of the lake.
Various explanations have been offered to account for this singular
phenomenon, but none seem to explain it in a satisfactory manner. It
appears to be produced by the exhalations that arise from an extensive
marshy tract lying around the mouth of the river Zulia, and above which
it universally shows itself. The atmosphere in this quarter is usually
hotter than elsewhere, and supposed to be highly charged with
electricity; but whatever may be the chemical process which produces the
illumination, it acts in a perfectly silent manner. No one has ever
observed any explosion to proceed from it, or the slightest sound
connected with its occurrence.
Of all the ideas suggested by the mention of Lake Maracaibo, perhaps
none are so interesting as those that relate to its native inhabitants,
whose peculiar habits and modes of life not only astonished the early
navigators, but eventually gave its name to the lake itself, and to the
extensive province in which it is situated. When the Spanish
discoverers, sailing around the shores of the gulf, arrived near the
entrance of Lake Maracaibo, they saw, to their amazement, not only
single houses, but whole villages, apparently floating upon the water!
On approaching nearer, they perceived that these houses were raised some
feet above the surface, and supported by posts or piles driven into the
mud at the bottom. The idea of Venice—that city built upon the sea, to
which they had been long accustomed—was suggested by these
_superaqueous_ habitations; and the name of _Venezuela_ (Little Venice)
was at once bestowed upon the coast, and afterwards applied to the whole
province now known as the Republic of Venezuela.
Though the “water villages” then observed have long since disappeared,
many others of a similar kind were afterwards discovered in Lake
Maracaibo itself, some of which are in existence to the present day.
Besides here and there an isolated habitation, situated in some bay or
“laguna,” there are four principal villages upon this plan still in
existence, each containing from fifty to a hundred habitations. The
inhabitants of some of these villages have been “Christianized,” that
is, have submitted to the teaching of the Spanish missionaries; and one
in particular is distinguished by having its little church—a regular
_water_ church—in the centre, built upon piles, just as the rest of the
houses are, and only differing from the common dwellings in being larger
and of a somewhat more pretentious style. From the belfry of this
curious ecclesiastical edifice a brazen bell may be heard at morn and
eve tolling the “oracion” and “vespers,” and declaring over the wide
waters of the lake that the authority of the Spanish monk has replaced
the power of the cazique among the Indians of the Lake Maracaibo. Not to
all sides of the lake, however, has the cross extended its conquest.
Along its western shore roams the fierce unconquered Goajiro, who, a
true warrior, still maintains his independence; and even encroaches upon
the usurped possessions both of monk and “militario.”
The _water-dweller_, however, although of kindred race with the Goajiro,
is very different, both in his disposition and habits of life. He is
altogether a man of peace, and might almost be termed a civilized
being,—that is, he follows a regular industrial calling, by which he
subsists. This is the calling of a fisherman, and in no part of the
world could he follow it with more certainty of success, since the
waters which surround his dwelling literally swarm with fish.
Lake Maracaibo has been long noted as the resort of numerous and
valuable species of the finny tribe, in the capture of which the Indian
fisherman finds ample occupation. He is betimes a fowler,—as we shall
presently see,—and he also sometimes indulges, though more rarely, in
the chase, finding game in the thick forests or on the green savannas
that surround the lake, or border the banks of the numerous “riachos”
(streams) running into it. On the savanna roams the graceful roebuck and
the “venado,” or South-American deer, while along the river banks stray
the capibara and the stout tapir, undisturbed save by their fierce
feline enemies, the puma and spotted jaguar.
But hunting excursions are not a habit of the water Indian, whose
calling, as already observed, is essentially that of a fisherman and
“fowler,” and whose subsistence is mainly derived from two kinds of
_water-dwellers_, like himself—one with fins, living below the surface,
and denominated _fish_; another with wings, usually resting _on_ the
surface, and known as _fowl_. These two creatures, of very different
kinds and of many different species, form the staple and daily food of
the Indian of Maracaibo.
In an account of his habits we shall begin by giving a description of
the mode in which he constructs his singular dwelling.
Like other builders he begins by selecting the site. This must be a
place where the water is of no great depth; and the farther from the
shore he can find a shallow spot the better for his purpose, for he has
a good reason for desiring to get to a distance from the shore, as we
shall presently see. Sometimes a sort of subaqueous island, or elevated
sandbank, is found, which gives him the very site he is in search of.
Having pitched upon the spot, his next care is to procure a certain
number of tree-trunks of the proper length and thickness to make
“piles.” Not every kind of timber will serve for this purpose, for there
are not many sorts that would long resist decay and the wear and tear of
the water insects, with which the lake abounds. Moreover, the building
of one of these aquatic houses, although it be only a rude hut, is a
work of time and labor, and it is desirable therefore to make it as
permanent as possible. For this reason great care is taken in the
selection of the timber for the “piles.”
But it so chances that the forests around the lake furnish the very
thing itself, in the wood of a tree known to the Spanish inhabitants as
the “vera,” or “palo sano,” and to the natives as “guaiac.” It is one of
the zygophyls of the genus _Guaiacum_, of which there are many species,
called by the names of “iron-wood” or “lignum-vitæ;” but the species in
question is the _tree_ lignum-vitæ (_Guaiacum arboreum_), which attains
to a height of 100 feet, with a fine umbrella-shaped head, and bright
orange flowers. Its wood is so hard, that it will turn the edge of an
axe, and the natives believe that if it be buried for a sufficient
length of time under the earth it will turn to iron! Though this belief
is not literally true, as regards the _iron_, it is not so much of an
exaggeration as might be supposed. The “palo de fierro,” when buried in
the soil of Maracaibo or immersed in the waters of the lake, in reality
does undergo a somewhat similar metamorphose; in other words, it turns
into stone; and the petrified trunks of this wood are frequently met
with along the shores of the lake. What is still more singular—the piles
of the water-houses often become petrified, so that the dwelling no
longer rests upon wooden posts, but upon real columns of stone!
Knowing all this by experience, the Indian selects the guaiac for his
uprights, cuts them of the proper length; and then, launching them in
the water, transports them to the site of his dwelling, and fixes them
in their places.
Upon this a platform is erected, out of split boards of some less
ponderous timber, usually the “ceiba,” or “silk-cotton tree” (_Bombax
ceiba_), or the “cedro negro” (_Cedrela odorata_) of the order
_Meliaceæ_. Both kinds grow in abundance upon the shores of the
lake,—and the huge trunks of the former are also used by the water
Indian for the constructing of his canoe.