[Illustration]
It was three days after the rain had ceased, before we could embark on
the river, and even then its current was angry and turbid, and filled
with floating trees. We hugged the banks in our ascent, darting from one
side of the stream to the other, to avail ourselves of the _back-sets_,
or eddies, sometimes losing, by an unsuccessful attempt, all we had
gained by half an hour of hard paddling. The banks were much torn by the
water; in some places they had fallen in, carrying many trees into the
stream, where they remained anchored to the shore by the numerous tough
vines that twined around them. Elsewhere the trees, half undermined,
leaned heavily over the current, in which the long vines hung trailing
in mournful masses, like the drooping leaves of the funeral willow. The
long grass on the low islands had been beaten down, and was covered with
a slimy deposit, over which stalked hungry water-birds, the snow-white
ibis, and long-shanked crane, in search of worms and insects, and
entangled fish.
We were occupied the whole day, in reaching the first settlement on this
river—a picturesque collection of low huts, in a forest of palm, papaya,
and plantain-trees. Near it were some considerable patches of maize, and
long reaches of yucas, squash, and melon-vines. There were, in short,
more evidences of industry and thrift than I had yet seen on the entire
coast.
As we approached the bank, in front of the huts, I observed that all
the inhabitants were pure Indians, whom my Poyer boy hailed in his own
tongue. I afterward found out that they were Woolwas, and spoke a dialect
of the same language with the Poyers, and Cookras, to the northward.
As at Wasswatla, nearly all the inhabitants crowded down to the shore
to meet me, affording, with their slight and symmetrical bodies, and
long, well-ordered, glossy black hair, a striking contrast to the
large-bellied, and spotted mongrels on the Wawashaan. I produced my
“King-paper,” and advanced toward a couple of elderly men bearing white
wooden wands, which I at once conjectured were insignia of authority.
But no sooner did they get sight of my “King-paper,” than they motioned
me back with tokens of displeasure, exclaiming, “_Sax! sax!_” which I
had no difficulty in comprehending meant “take it away!” So I folded
it up, put it in my pocket, and extended my hand, which was taken by
each, and shaken in the most formal manner. When the men with the wands
had finished, all the others came forward, and went through the same
ceremony, most of them ejaculating, interrogatively, _Nakisma?_ which
appears to be an exact equivalent of the English, “How are you?”
This done, the men with the wands beckoned to me to follow them, which I
did, to a large hut, neatly wattled at the sides, and closed by a door of
canes. One of them pushed this open, and I entered after him, followed
only by those who had wands, the rest clustering like bees around the
door, or peering through the openings in the wattled walls. There were
several rough blocks of wood in the interior, upon which they seated
themselves, placing me between them. All this while there was an unbroken
silence, and I was quite in a fog as to whether I was held as a guest or
as a prisoner. I looked into the faces of my friends in vain; they were
as impassible as stones. I, however, felt reassured when I saw Antonio at
the door, his face wearing rather a pleased than alarmed expression.
We sat thus a very long time, as it appeared to me, when there was a
movement outside, the crowd separated, and a man entered, bearing a large
earthen vessel filled with liquid, followed by two girls, with baskets
piled with cakes of corn meal, fragments of some kind of broiled meat,
and a quantity of a paste of plantains, having the taste of figs, and
called _bisbire_. The eldest of the men of wands filled a small calabash
with the liquid, touched it to his lips, and passed it to me. I did
the same, and handed it to my next neighbor; but he motioned it back,
exclaiming, “_Dis! dis!_” drink, drink! I found it to be a species of
palm-wine, with which I afterward became better acquainted. It proved
pleasant enough to the taste, and I drained the calabash. Another one
of the old men then took up some of the roast meat, tore off and ate a
little, and handed the rest to me. Not slow in adaptation, I took all
hints, and wound up by making a hearty meal. The remnants were then
passed out to Antonio, who, however, was permitted to wait on himself.
I made some observations to Antonio in Spanish, which I perceived was
understood by the principal dignitary of the wands, who, after some
moments, informed me, in good Spanish, that the hut in which we were,
was the _cabildo_ of the village, and that it was wholly at my service,
so long as I chose to stay. He furthermore pointed out to me a rude drum
hanging in one corner, made by stretching the raw skin of some animal
over a section of a hollow tree, upon which he instructed me to beat
in case I wanted any thing. This done, he rose, and, followed by his
companions, ceremoniously retired, leaving me in quiet possession of the
largest and best hut in the village. I felt myself quite an important
personage, and ordered up my hammock, and the various contents of my
canoe, with a degree of satisfaction which I had not experienced when
waging a war against the pigs, in the “King’s house” at Wasswatla.
I subsequently ascertained that all of the ideas of government which
the Indians on this river possess, were derived from the Spaniards,
either descending to them from former Spanish establishments here, or
obtained from contact with the Spaniards far up in the interior. The
principal men were called “_alcaldes_,” and many Spanish words were in
common use. I discovered no trace of negro blood among them, and found
that they entertained a feeling of dislike, amounting to hostility,
to the Mosquito men. So far as I could ascertain, while they denied
the authority of the Mosquito king, they sent down annually a certain
quantity of sarsaparilla, maize, and other articles, less as tribute than
as the traditionary price of being let alone by the Sambos. In former
times, it appeared, the latter lost no opportunity of kidnapping their
children and women, and selling them to the Jamaica traders, as slaves.
Indeed, they sometimes undertook armed forays in the Indian territory,
for the purpose of taking prisoners, to be sold to men who made this
traffic a regular business. This practice continued down to the abolition
of slavery in Jamaica—a measure of which the Mosquito men greatly
complain, notwithstanding that they were not themselves exempt from being
occasionally kidnapped.
The difficulty of entering the Rio Grande, and the absence of any
considerable traffic with the natives on its banks, are among the causes
which have contributed to keep them free from the degrading influences
that prevail on the Mosquito Shore. They rely chiefly upon agriculture
for their support, and fish and hunt but little. They have abundance of
maize, yucas, cassava, squashes, plantains, papayas, cocoa-nuts, and
other fruits and vegetables, including a few limes and oranges, as also
pigs and fowls, and higher up the river, in the savannah country, a few
horned cattle. I observed, among the domestic fowls, the true Muscovy
duck, and the indigenous hen or _chachalaca_.
The people themselves, though not tall, are well-made, and have a
remarkably soft and inoffensive expression. The women—and especially the
girls—were exceedingly shy, and always left the huts when I entered.
The men universally wore the _ule tournou_, or breech-cloth, but the
women had in its place a piece of cotton cloth of their own manufacture,
striped with blue and yellow, which hung half-way down the thighs, and
was supported above the hips by being tucked under in some simple, but,
to me, inexplicable manner.[2] The young girls were full and symmetrical
in form, with fine busts, and large, lustrous, black eyes, which,
however, always had to me a startled, deer-like expression. I saw no
firearms among the men, although they seemed to be acquainted with
their use. They had, instead, fine bows and arrows, the latter pointed
with iron, or a species of tough wood, hardened in the fire. The boys
universally had blow-pipes or reeds, with which they were very expert,
killing ducks, curlews, and a land of red partridge, at the distance of
thirty and forty yards. The silence with which the light arrow is sped,
enables the practiced hunter frequently to kill the greater part of a
flock or _covey_, before the rest take the alarm.
My life in the cabildo was unmarked by any adventure worth notice. I
received plantains, fowls, whatever I desired, Aladdin-like, by tapping
the drum. This was always promptly responded to by a couple of young
Indians, who asked no questions, and made no replies, but did precisely
what they were bid. Neither they nor the alcaldes would accept any
thing in return for what they furnished me, beyond a few red cotton
handkerchiefs, and some small triangular files, of which old Hodgson had
wisely instructed me to take in a small supply. They all seemed to be
unacquainted with the use of money, although not without some notion of
the value of gold and silver. I saw several of the women with rude, light
_bangles_ of gold, which metal, the alcaldes told me, was found in the
sands of the river, very far up, among the mountains.
Among the customs of these Indians, there is one of a very curious
nature, with which I was made acquainted by accident. Nearly every
day I strolled off in the woods, with a vague hope of some time or
other encountering a _waree_, or wild hog (of whose presence in the
neighborhood, an occasional foray on the maize fields of the Indians bore
witness), or perhaps a _peccary_, or some other large animal. As the bush
was thick, I seldom got far from the beaten paths of the natives, and had
to content myself with now and then shooting a _curassow_, in lieu of
higher game. One day, I ventured rather further up the river than usual,
and came suddenly upon an isolated hut. Being thirsty, I approached with
a view of obtaining some water. I had got within perhaps twenty paces,
when two old women dashed out toward me, with vehement cries, motioning
me away with the wildest gestures, and catching up handfuls of leaves and
throwing them toward me. I thought this rather inhospitable, and at first
was disposed not to leave. But, finally, thinking there must be some
reason for all this, and seeing that the women appeared rather distressed
than angry, I retracted my steps. I afterward found, upon inquiry, that
the hut was what is called _tabooed_ by the South Sea Islanders, and
devoted to the women of the village, during their confinement. As this
period approaches, they retire to this secluded place, where they remain
in the care of two old women for two moons, passing through lustrations
or purifications unknown to the men. While the woman is so confined to
the hut, no one is allowed to approach it, and all persons are especially
cautious not to pass it to the windward, for it is imagined that by
so doing the wind, which supplies the breath of the newly-born child,
would be taken away, and it would die. This singular notion, I afterward
discovered, is also entertained by the Mosquito people, who no doubt
derived it from their Indian progenitors.
The course of life of the Indians appeared to be exceedingly regular and
monotonous. Both men and women found abundant occupation during the day;
they went to bed early, and rose with the dawn. Although most of them
had hammocks, they universally slept on what are called _crickeries_,
or platforms of canes, supported on forked posts, and covered with
variously-colored mats, woven of the bark of palm branches. I observed
no drunkenness among them, and altogether they were quiet, well-ordered,
and industrious. In all their relations with me, they were respectful and
obliging, but exceedingly reserved. I endeavored to break through their
taciturnity, but without success. Hence, after a few days had passed, and
the novelty had worn off, I began to weary of inactivity. So I one day
proposed to the principal alcalde, that he should undertake a hunt for
the _tilbia_, mountain cow, or _tapir_, and the _peccary_, or Mexican
hog. He received the proposition deferentially, but suggested that the
_manitus_, or sea-cow, was a more wonderful animal than either of those I
had named, and that it would not be difficult to find one in the river.
I took up the hint eagerly, as I had already caught one or two glimpses
of the manitus, which had greatly roused my curiosity. The drum was
thereupon beaten, and the alcaldes convened to consult upon the matter.
They all came with their wands, and after due deliberation, fixed upon
the next night for the expedition. Boats were accordingly got ready, and
the hunters sharpened their lances and harpoons. The latter resembled
very much the ordinary whaling harpoons, but were smaller in size. The
lances were narrow and sharp, and attached to thin staffs, of a very
tough and heavy wood. Notwithstanding that Antonio smiled and shook his
head, I cleaned my gun elaborately, and loaded it heavily with ball.
Before narrating our adventure in the pursuit of the manitus, it will not
be amiss to explain that this animal is probably the most remarkable one
found under the tropics, being amphibious, and the apparent connecting
link between quadrupeds and fishes. It may perhaps be better compared to
the seal, in its general characteristics, than to any other sea-animal.
It has the two fore feet, or rather hands, but the hind feet are wanting,
or only appear as rudiments beneath the skin. Its head is thick and
heavy, and has something the appearance of that of a hornless cow. It
has a broad, flat tail, or integument, spreading out horizontally, like
a fan. The skin is dark, corrugated, and so thick and hard that a bullet
can scarcely penetrate it. A few scattered hairs appear on its body,
which has a general resemblance of that of the hippopotamus. There are
several varieties of the manitus, but it is an animal which appears
to be little known to naturalists. Its habits are very imperfectly
understood, and the natives tell many extraordinary stories about it,
alleging, among other things, that it can be tamed. It is herbivorous,
feeding on the long tender shoots of grass growing on the banks of the
rivers, and will rise nearly half of its length out of water to reach its
food. It is never found on the land, where it would be utterly helpless,
since it can neither walk nor crawl.
It is commonly from ten to fifteen feet long, huge and unwieldy, and
weighing from twelve to fifteen hundred pounds. It has breasts placed
between its paws, and suckles its young. The male and female are usually
found together. It is extremely acute in its sense of hearing, and
immerges itself in the water at the slightest noise. Great tact and
caution are therefore necessary to kill it, and a manitee hunt puts in
requisition all the craft and skill of the Indians.
[Illustration: HUNTING THE MANITUS.]
The favorite hour for feeding, with the manitus, is the early morning,
during the dim, gray dawn. In consequence I was called up to join the
hunters not long after midnight. Two large pitpans, each holding four or
five men, were put in requisition, and we paddled rapidly up the river,
for several hours, to the top of a long reach, where there were a number
of low islands, covered with grass, and where the banks were skirted by
swampy savannahs. Here many bushes were cut, and thrown lightly over the
boats, so as to make them resemble floating trees. We waited patiently
until the proper hour arrived, when the boats were cast loose from the
shore, and we drifted down with the current. One man was placed in the
stern with a paddle to steer, another with a harpoon and line crouched
in the bow, while the rest, keeping their long keen lances clear of
impediments, knelt on the bottom. We glided down in perfect silence, one
boat close to each bank. I kept my eyes opened to the widest, and in the
dim light got quite excited over a dozen logs or so, which I mistook for
manitee. But the hunters made no sign, and we drifted on, until I got
impatient, and began to fear that our expedition might prove a failure.
But of a sudden, when I least expected it, the man in the bow launched
his harpoon. The movement was followed by a heavy plunge, and in an
instant the boat swung round, head to the stream. Before I could fairly
comprehend what was going on, the boughs were all thrown overboard, and
the men stood with their long lances poised, ready for instant use. We
had run out a large part of the slack of the harpoon-line, which seemed
to be fast to some immovable object. The bowsman, however, now began to
gather it in, dragging up the boat slowly against the current. Suddenly
the manitus, for it was one, left his hold on the bottom, and started
diagonally across the river, trailing us rapidly after him. This movement
gradually brought him near the surface, as we could see by the commotion
of the water. Down darted one of the lances, and under again went the
manitus, now taking his course with the current, down the stream. The
other boat, meantime, had come to our assistance, hovering in front of
us, in order to fasten another harpoon the instant the victim should
approach near enough to the surface. An opportunity soon offered, and he
received the second harpoon and another lance at the same instant. All
this time I had both barrels of my gun cocked, feverishly awaiting my
chance for a shot. Soon the struggles of the animal became less violent,
and he several times came involuntarily to the surface. I watched my
chance, when his broad head rose in sight, and discharged both barrels,
at a distance of thirty feet, startling the hunters quite as much as they
had disconcerted me. It was the Lord’s own mercy that some of them did
not get shot in the general scramble!
The manitus, after receiving the second harpoon, became nearly helpless,
and the Indians, apparently secure of their object, allowed the boats
to drift with him quietly down the river. Occasionally he made an
ineffectual attempt to dive to the bottom, dashing the water into foam
in his efforts, but long before we reached the village he floated at the
surface, quite dead. The morning was bright and clear when we paddled
ashore, where we found every inhabitant of the place clustering to
meet us. When they saw that we had been successful, they set up loud
shouts, and clapped their hands with vigor, whence (as this was the only
manifestation of excitement which I had seen) I inferred that the capture
of a manitus was regarded as something of a feat, even on the Mosquito
Shore.
Ropes were speedily attached to the dead animal, at which every body
seemed anxious to get a chance to pull, and it was dragged up the bank
triumphantly, amid vehement shouts. I had been somewhat piqued at the
contempt in which my gun had been held, and had been not a little
ambitious of being able to say that I had killed a manitus, and as, after
my shot, the animal had almost entirely ceased its struggles, I thought
it possible I had given it the final _coup_, and might conscientiously
get up a tolerable brag on my adventure, over Mr. Sly’s punch, when
I returned to New York. It was with some anxiety, therefore, that I
investigated its ugly head, only to find that my balls had hardly
penetrated the skin, and that the hide of the manitus is proof against
any thing in the shape of firearms, except, perhaps, a Minié rifle. And
thus I was cheated out of another chance for immortality! Lest, however,
my story that the hide of the manitus is an inch thick, and tough as
whale-bone, should not be credited, I had a strip of it cut off, which,
when dried, became like horn, and a terror to dogs, in all my subsequent
rambles. I suspect there are some impertinent curs here, in New York, who
entertain stinging recollections of that same strip of manitus-hide! Dr.
Pounder, my old school-master, I am sure, would sacrifice his eyes, or
perhaps, what is of equal consequence, his spectacles, to obtain it!
But while my balls were thus impotent, I found that the lances of the
Indians had literally gone through and through the manitus. The harpoons
did not penetrate far, their purpose being simply to fasten the animal.
The lances were the fatal instruments, and I afterwards saw a young
Indian drive his completely through the trunk of a full-grown palm-tree.
This variety of lance is called _silak_, and is greatly prized.
[Illustration: MANITEE HARPOON AND LANCES.]
There were great doings in the village over the manitus. Beneath the
skin there was a deep layer of very sweet fat, below which appeared the
flesh, closely resembling beef, but coarser, and streaked throughout with
layers of fat. This, when broiled before the fire, proved to be tender,
well-flavored, and altogether delicious food. The tail is esteemed the
most delicate part, and, as observed by Captain Henderson, who had a
trial of it on the same shore, “is a dish of which Apicius might have
been proud, and which the discriminating palate of Heliogabalus would
have thought entitled to the most distinguished reward!” The better and
more substantial part of the animal, namely, the flesh, was carefully
cut in strips, rubbed with salt, and, hung in the sun to dry, made into
what the Spaniards call _tasajo_. The other portions were distributed
among the various huts, and the tail was presented to me. When I came to
leave, I found that the cured or _tasajoed_ flesh had also been preserved
for my use. Broiled on the coals, it proved quite equal to any thing I
ever tasted, and as sweet as dried venison. And here I may mention that
the flesh of the manitus, like that of the turtle, is not only excellent
food, but its effects on the system are beneficial, particularly in the
cases of persons afflicted with scorbutic or scrofulous complaints. It is
said these find speedy relief from its free use, and that, in the course
of a few weeks, the disease entirely disappears.