lair of the beast. The hunter knew it would not be very distant--
perhaps a quarter or half a mile, perhaps less. Before starting he
cautioned Leon to keep close behind him, and not to make the least
noise. So little as a whisper or the rustling of the brush, he alleged,
might spoil all his plans. Guapo marched, or rather crouched, along; at
first freely, but after some time his step grew more stealthy and
cautious. He knew that he was getting near to the sleeping victim.
After stopping and repeating his caution to his companion, he proceeded
as before until they had got better than a quarter of a mile from the
water. Here they began to ascend a gentle hill, where the ground was
dry, and strewed with fallen trees. At some places the trail was
difficult to make out, and Leon would soon have lost it had he been left
to himself. But there was no fear of Guapo losing it. A hound could
not have followed it more surely.
Suddenly Guapo stopped--then went on a few steps--then stopped a second
time, and made a sign for Leon to come up. Without speaking, he pointed
to a little thicket of scrubby bushes, through the leaves of which they
could just make out some large brown object perfectly at rest. That was
the tapir himself--sound asleep.
Guapo had already instructed his companion that when they should arrive
near the den of the animal, they were to make a wide circuit around--
Leon going one way, while he himself took the other. Both now drew back
a little, and then parted--the hunter going to one side, and Leon in the
opposite direction. After making their circuit, they met at some
distance beyond the back of the den; and then Guapo, telling the other
to follow him, and, without observing any further caution, walked
straight towards where the tapir lay. The Indian knew by experience
that the latter, when roused, would make directly along its accustomed
trail to the water, for to the water it always flies when alarmed by an
enemy. When they had got within a few paces of the den, a movement was
seen among the leaves--then a crackling noise was heard, as the huge
body of the animal broke through the bushes, and took to flight. He did
not trot according to his usual gait, but went off in a gallop, with his
head carried in a singular and awkward manner between his fore-legs!
You have, no doubt, seen a donkey sometimes gallop in a similar style.
Guapo bounded after, followed by Leon, who kept close at his heels. Of
course the tapir was in sight only a few seconds, but the hunter knew
that he would take the beaten track, and therefore was at no loss. They
made no unnecessary noise--lest the tapir might be frightened from its
path--but ran on in silence.
They soon got back to the pit-fall, Guapo of course leading the way.
"Hola!" cried the latter, when he came in sight of it, "hola, young
master! he's in the trap!"
Sure enough he was; and the next moment they stood upon the edge of the
pit, and beheld the great brown body struggling and tumbling about at
the bottom.
Guapo did not pause a moment, but leaped in, _machete_ in hand. He had
no fear of the animal biting him, for he knew it would not do so; but
Guapo, in his hurry, had leaped carelessly, and his foot slipping, he
fell over the smooth body of the tapir. The latter in its fright jumped
upward, and the next moment Guapo was _undermost_ at the bottom of the
pit!
The animal had no design of trampling the hunter; but seeing that it
could easily leap out--the pit being shallowed for it by Guapo's body
and the fallen branches--it made a spring, and came out on the edge.
Leon had got round upon the side next the river, but he chanced to be on
the wrong side just then; for the heavy tapir dashing past, knocked
against him, and sent him sprawling among the trees. Before he could
recover himself, or Guapo climb out of the pit, a loud plunge in the
water announced that the animal had escaped to an element where it might
defy their pursuit.
Both were quite crest-fallen and disappointed, but Guapo especially so.
He had prided himself very much on his skill as a tapir-hunter, and his
pride was mortified at the result. He seemed very much chagrined; and
as he and Leon returned toward the house, he stopped at intervals and
looked into the water. Then shaking his machete in a threatening
manner, cried out--
"Dive away, old thick-skin! Dive deep as you will, I'll have your hide
yet!"
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
THE POISONED ARROWS.
The result of the tapir chase determined Guapo to have himself better
armed. There was one weapon--and a very efficient one too--which he
knew how both to make and use. That weapon was a "gravatana," or
blow-gun, sometimes called "pocuna." He had had an eye to this weapon
all along, and had already provided the materials necessary for making
it. These materials were of a varied character, and had cost him some
trouble in getting them together.
First, then, for the blow-tube itself he had cut stems of a slender
palm-tree,--a species of _Iriartea_, but not that sort already
described. It was the _Pashiuba miri_ of the Indians. This little palm
grows to the height of from twelve to twenty feet, and is never thicker
than a man's wrist. Its roots, like the others of its genus, rise above
the ground, but only a few inches. The sterns which Guapo had chosen
were of different sizes. One was about the thickness of the handle of a
garden-rake, while the other was not over the diameter of a
walking-cane. Both were hollow in the heart, or rather they contained
pith like the alder-tree, which when forced out left a smooth bore.
Having cut these stems to a length of about ten feet, and pushed out the
pith, Guapo inserted the smaller one into the bore of the larger, which
fitted tightly all the way--for he had chosen it of the proper thickness
to this end. The object of thus using two stems instead of one will
not, at first, be understood. It was for the purpose of making the tube
perfectly straight, as this is a most important consideration in the
gravatana. The outer and stronger stem corrected any bend that there
might be in the inner one, and they were carefully arranged so that the
one should straighten the other. Had it not been perfectly straight,
Guapo would have bound it to a post and made it so; but it happened to
come quite right without further trouble. The tube of the lesser one
was now cleaned out thoroughly, and polished by a little bunch of the
roots of a tree-fern, until it was as smooth and hard as ebony. A
mouthpiece of wood was placed at the smaller end of the tube, and a
sight was glued on the outside. This "sight" was the tooth of an
animal,--one of the long curving incisors of a rodent animal called the
"paca," which is found in most parts of tropical America. To make the
instrument look neater, Guapo had procured the tough shining bark of a
creeping plant, which he wound spirally around the outside from the
mouthpiece to the muzzle; and then the gravatana was finished.
There was yet much to be done before it could be used. Arrows were to
be made, and a quiver in which to carry them, and poison to dip their
points in--for the arrows of the blow-gun do not kill by the wound they
inflict, but by the poison with which they are charged.
The next thing, then, to which Guapo turned his attention was the
manufacture of the arrows. These can be made of cane, reeds, and other
kinds of wood; but the best materials for the purpose are the long
spines of the patawa palm, of which I have already spoken. These spines
grow out from the lower part of the leaf-petioles, and, in young trees
and those much sheltered, remain upon the trunk, giving it a very shaggy
appearance. They are often three feet in length, about as thick as
large wire, rather flattish, and of a black colour. To make the arrows,
Guapo cut them to the length of fifteen or eighteen inches, and then
pointed them sharply at one end. About three inches from the points he
notched them all, so that they would break in the wound rather than drop
out again, in consequence of the struggles of the animal. About two or
three inches from the thick end of the arrow Guapo wrapped lightly
around the shaft some strands of the soft silky cotton, which he had
procured from the pods of the great "ceiba," or silk-cotton tree,
already mentioned. This he fastened on with a fibre of an aloe plant--
one of the _bromelias_; and the cotton, when thus secured, assumed a
conical or spindle shape, having its larger end toward the butt of the
arrow. When inserted into the gravatana, the swell of the cotton filled
the tube exactly,--not so tightly as to impede the passage of the arrow,
nor so loosely as to allow of "windage" when blown upon through the
mouthpiece.
The arrows were now ready, with the exception of the poison for their
tips; and this was the most important of all, for without it both
blow-gun and arrows would have been useless weapons, indeed. But Guapo
was just the man who knew how to make this poison, and that is more than
could be said of every Indian, for it is only the "piaches" (priests, or
"medicine-men") who understand the process. Nay, more, there are even
some tribes where not an individual knows how the arrow-poison is made;
and these have to procure it by barter from others, paying a high price,
and sometimes going a great distance for it.
This celebrated poison is known under different names, but those of
"curare", "ticuna," and "wouraly," are the principal.
It is one of the most deadly poisons yet discovered--as much so as the
_upastiente_ of Java, or the bean of Saint Ignatius--but it is perfectly
harmless when swallowed, and, indeed, it is often taken by the Indians
as an excellent stomachic. Should it get into the blood, however, by
means of an arrow-wound, or a sore, no remedy has yet been discovered
that will cure it. Death is certain, and a death similar to that caused
by the bite of a venomous serpent. So say those who have suffered from
it, but recovered on account of their having been only slightly wounded,
or lightly inoculated with it. Let us see, then, how Guapo prepared
this deadly mixture.
He had gone out to the forest, and returned carrying a bundle of slender
rods. They were pieces of a lliana, or creeping plant. It was the
_bejuco de curare_, or "mavacure," as it is sometimes called. The
leaves he had stripped off, and left behind as useless. Had he brought
them with him, they would have been seen to be small leaves of an
oblong-oval shape, sharp at the points, and of a whitish-green colour.
Don Pablo knew the plant to be a species of _Strychnos_.
Guapo with his knife first scraped all the bark, as well as the alburnum
or white coating, from the rods, which last he flung away. The mixture
of bark and alburnum was next placed upon a smooth stone, and mashed
into a fibre of a yellowish colour. This done, it was gathered into a
heap, and placed within a funnel, which had already been made out of a
plantain-leaf. The funnel was a long narrow cone, and to strengthen it,
it was set within another funnel made of the thick leaf of the "bussu"
palm, and then both were supported by a framework of palm fibres.
Underneath the apex was placed a small pan--which could afterwards be
put over the fire--and then cold water was thrown into the funnel along
with the bark. A yellowish liquid soon commenced to filter and drip
into the pan, and this liquid was the _curare_, the arrow-poison. It
still required, however, to be concentrated by evaporation; and for this
purpose the pan was transferred to a slow fire, where it was kept until
the liquid became thickened by the heat.
Another process was yet required before the curare was ready for the
arrows. It was sufficiently concentrated and deadly, but still too thin
to adhere properly to their tips, and for this purpose a mixture of some
gummy juice was necessary. This Guapo soon prepared from the large
leaves of a tree called the "kiracaguero," and poured it into the
infusion; and then the curare turned from its yellow colour to black,
and was ready for use. The change of colour was produced by the
decomposition of a hydruret of carbon; the hydrogen was burned, and the
carbon set free.
Guapo now dipped a few of his arrows, and carefully deposited them in a
large joint of bamboo, which served as a quiver. I say _carefully_, for
had one of these arrows dropped with its poisoned point upon his naked
foot, or wounded him elsewhere, he never would have prepared any more
curare. But he handled them with care, and the remainder of the liquid
he poured into a small gourd (similar to that in which he carried his
coca-lime), which he closely corked up with a piece of the pith from a
palm.
Don Pablo, with Dona Isidora and the children, had watched with interest
all this process. At first, they were afraid to go near, believing that
the fumes of the liquid might be injurious. This was long believed to
be the case, in consequence of the absurd tales spread abroad by the old
missionaries, and even at a later period by the traveller La Condamine.
These asserted, that when the Indians wished to make the curare poison,
they selected for this purpose the old women of the tribe, whose lives
were not deemed of any value; and that several of these always fell a
sacrifice while "cooking" the curare! This silly story is now refuted;
and Guapo not only assured his companions that there was no danger, but
even tasted the curare from time to time while in the pan, in order to
judge when it was sufficiently concentrated. This he could tell by its
taste, as it grew more and more bitter as the evaporation proceeded.
The arrow-poisons of South America are not all made from the creeping
plant, the mavacure. Among some Indian tribes a root is used called
"curare de raiz;" and with others the poison is produced by a mixture of
several species of juices from the plant _Ambihuasca_, tobacco, red
pepper, a bark called "barbasco," from a tree of the genus _Jacquinia_,
and a plant of the name "sarnango." Of all these the juice of the
_Ambihuasca_ is the most powerful ingredient, but the making of this
species of poison is a most complicated process.
Guapo was not long in having an opportunity to test his gravatana, and
this was just what he desired, for the old Indian was not a little vain
of his skill, and he wished to make a show of it in the eyes of his
companions. His vanity, however, was the more pardonable, as he was in
reality a first-rate shot, which he proved to the satisfaction of
everybody within half-an-hour. The instrument had scarcely been
finished and laid aside, when a loud screaming and chattering was heard
in the air, and on looking up a flock of large birds was seen flying
over the heavens. They were still high up, but all of a sudden they
darted down together and alit on a tall tree that stood nearly alone.
Here they continued their chattering, only in a lower and more
confidential tone; and they could be seen, not hopping, but climbing
about, sometimes with their backs and heads turned downwards, and, in
short, clinging to the branches in every imaginable way. These birds
were all of one kind, each of them full eighteen inches in length, and
of a uniform colour over the body, which was a purple, or deep indigo--
their beaks only being white. In the sun their plumage glistened with a
metallic lustre. They were, in fact, a rare species,--the _ana_, or
_purple macaw_.
Without saying a word, Guapo seized his gravatana and arrows, and stole
off through the underwood towards the tree upon which the macaws had
perched. In a few minutes he stood under it, screened from the view of
the birds by the broad leaves of a plantain that happened to grow
beneath. This cover was necessary, else the macaws, which are shy
birds, might have uttered one of their wild, choral screams, and flown
off. They did not however, and Guapo had a fair chance at them. All
his movements could be observed by the party at the house, as he was on
that side of the plantain.
He was seen to adjust an arrow into the tube, and then raise the
gravatana to his lips. Strange to say, he did not hold it as we do a
common gun,--that is, with the left hand advanced along the tube. On
the contrary, both hands were held nearly together, at the lower end,
and close to his mouth. Now, you will wonder how he could hold such a
long tube steady in this way. It is, indeed, a very difficult thing,
and much practice alone can accomplish it. As they watched him
narrowly, his chest was seen to expand, his cheeks rose with a strong
"puff," and some of them thought they could perceive the passage of the
little arrow out of the tube. However this might be, they soon after
saw something sticking in the side of one of the macaws, and could see
the bird pecking at it with its great beak, and trying to pull it out.
In this it appeared to have succeeded after a short while, for something
fell from the tree. It was the shaft with its cotton "boss" that fell
down. The point, broken off where it had been notched, was still in the
body of the bird, and was infusing the deadly venom into its veins. In
about two minutes' time the wounded bird seemed to grow giddy, and began
to stagger. It then fell over, still clutching the branch with its
strong, prehensile claws; but after hanging a moment, these too relaxed,
and the body fell heavily to the ground. It was quite dead.
Long before it came down Guapo had pushed a fresh arrow into the tube,
and given a fresh puff through it, wounding a second of the macaws.
Then another arrow was chosen, and another victim, until several had
been shot, and the creatures upon the tree could be seen in all stages
of dying. Some, on receiving the wound, uttered a cry and flew off, but
the poison soon brought them down, and they invariably fell at no great
distance from the tree.
At length Guapo was seen to desist, and walk boldly out from his ambush.
To the surprise of all, the remaining macaws, of which there were still
six or seven upon the tree, showed no fear of him, nor did they attempt
to fly away! This was explained, however, by their subsequent conduct;
for in a few seconds more they were seen, one by one, falling to the
ground, until not a single bird was left upon the tree. All of them had
been killed by the arrows of the blow-gun!
Leon now ran out to assist Guapo in gathering his game. There were no
less than eight couple of them in all, and they were all quite dead--
some of them shot in the thigh, some in the neck or wing, and others
through the body. None of them had lived over two minutes after
receiving the wound. Such is the quickness with which the "curare" does
its work!
As a hunting instrument for most species of game the South American
Indian prefers the gravatana to any other; and with good reason. Had
Guapo been armed with a rifle or fowling-piece, he would have shot one
macaw, or perhaps a pair, and then the rest would have uttered a
tantalising scream, and winged their way out of his reach. He might
have missed the whole flock too, for on a high tree, such as that on
which they had alit, it is no easy matter to kill a macaw with a
shot-gun. Now the gravatana throws its arrow to a height of from thirty
to forty yards, and the least touch is sufficient to do the business.
Its silence, moreover, enables the hunter to repeat the shot, until
several head of game reward his skill. The Indians use it with most
effect in a vertical or upward direction; and they are always surer to
kill a bird with it when perched on a high tree, than when seated on a
low shrub or on the ground.
As we have observed that the curare can be taken inwardly without any
danger, it will be evident to all that game killed by the poisoned
arrows may be eaten with safety. Indeed, there are many epicures in
South America who prefer it in this way; and when a chicken is wanted
for the table, these people require that it should be killed by an arrow
dipped in curare.
CHAPTER TWENTY.
THE MILK-TREE.
Guapo kept his promise with the tapir, and on that very same day.
Shortly after the macaws had been brought in, little Leona, who had been
straying down by the water's edge, came running back to the house, and
in breathless haste cried out, "Mamma, mamma! what a big hog!"
"Where, my pet?" inquired her mother, with a degree of anxiety, for she
fancied that the child might have seen some fierce beast of prey instead
of a hog.
"In the water," replied Leona; "among the great lilies."
"It's the tapir," cried Leon. "Carrambo! it's our tapir!"
Guapo was busy plucking his macaws, but at the word tapir he sprang to
his feet, making the feathers fly in all directions.
"Where, senorita?" he asked, addressing little Leona.
"Down below," replied the child; "near the edge of the river."
Guapo seized his gravatana, and crouched down towards the bank, with
Leon at his heels. On nearing the water, he stopped; and, with his body
half bent, looked down stream. There, sure enough, was the huge brown
beast standing with his body half out of the water, and pulling up the
roots of the flags with his great teeth and long moveable snout. It was
not likely he would return to his former den after the chase he had had;
and fancying, no doubt, that all the danger lay upon the opposite shore,
he had come to this side to browse awhile.
Guapo cautioned Leon to remain where he was, while he himself, almost
crawling upon his belly, proceeded along the bank. In a few minutes he
was out of sight, and Leon, seeing nothing more of him, kept his eyes
sharply fixed upon the tapir.
The latter remained quietly feeding for about ten minutes, when the boy
saw him give a little start. Perhaps, thought he, he has heard Guapo
among the weeds--for the tapir has good ears--and that was what caused
him to make the motion. The tapir stopped feeding for a moment, but
then recommenced, though evidently not with as much eagerness as before.
Presently he stopped a second time, and seemed undetermined as to
whether he should not turn and take to the clear water. In this way he
hesitated for several minutes; then, to the astonishment of Leon, his
body began to rock from side to side, and the next moment, with a
plunge, he fell heavily backward, making the waves undulate on all sides
of him. The arrow had done its work--he was dead!
A loud shout from Guapo echoed along the river, and the Indian was seen
plunging forward to the dead tapir, which the next moment he had seized
by the leg, and was dragging towards the bank. He was here met by the
whole party, all of whom were anxious to see this rare and singular
creature. Ropes were soon attached to the legs, and Guapo, assisted by
Don Pablo and Leon, drew the huge carcass out upon the shore; and
dragged it up to the house.
Guapo at once skinned it, carefully preserving the hide to made soles
for his sandals and other purposes; and that night all of them tried a
"tapir-steak" for supper. All, however, Guapo alone excepted, preferred
the flesh of the purple macaws, which, cooked as they were with onions
and red pepper, were excellent eating, particularly for Spanish-American
palates. Guapo had all the tapir to himself.
The bamboo palm-house was now quite finished, and several articles of
furniture too--for during the nights both Don Pablo and his trusty man
Guapo had worked at many things. You will, no doubt, be asking where
they procured lights,--will you not? I shall tell you. One of the
loftiest and most beautiful of the palm-trees--_the wax-palm (Ceroxylon
Andicola_)--grew in these very parts, for the lower slopes of the Andes
are its favourite habitat. Out of its trunk exudes wax, which has only
to be scraped off and made into candles, that burn as well as those made
of the wax of bees. Indeed, the missionaries, in their various
religious ceremonies,--or "mummeries," as they might be better styled,--
have always made large use of these palm-candles. Another "wax-palm,"
called "Carnauba" (_Copernicia cerifera_), is found in South America.
In this one, the wax--of a pure white colour, and without any admixture
of resin--collects upon the under-side of the leaves, and can he had in
large quantities by merely stripping it off. But even, had neither of
these palms been found, they needed not to have gone without lights, for
the fruits of the "patawa," already described, when submitted to
pressure, yield a pure liquid oil, without any disagreeable smell, and
most excellent for burning in lamps. So, you see, there was no lack of
light in the cheerful cottage.