Itinerary—Tingo Maria—Vampires—Blow-guns—Canoe
navigation—Shooting monkeys—Tocache—Sion—Salt hills of
Pilluana.
The following table gives the distance between Lima and the head of
canoe navigation on the Huallaga river:
From Lima to Chaclacayo 18 miles
" " to Santa Ana 10 "
" " to Surco 18 "
" " to San Mateo 18 "
" " to Acchahuarcu 13 "
" " to Morococha 12 "
" " to Oroya 17 "
" " to Tarma 16 "
" " to Palcamayo 15 "
" " to Junin 18 "
" " to Carhuamayo 15 "
" " to Cerro Pasco 20 "
" " to Caxamarquilla 15 "
" " to San Rafael 15 "
" " to Ambo 20 "
" " to Huanuco 15 "
" " to Acomayo 14 "
" " to Chinchao 16 "
" " to Chihuangala 20 "
" " to La Cueva 20 "
" " to Tingo Maria 10 "
---
335 "
===
This distance of three hundred and thirty-five miles may be shortened
twenty-eight by going direct from Lima to Cerro Pasco. (We passed round
by Tarma.) The traveller will find that the distance is divided in the
table into days' journeys nearly. Thus it will cost him, with loaded
mules, twenty-one days to reach the head of canoe navigation on the
Huallaga by this route, and nineteen by the other. The last thirty miles
between Chihuangala and Tingo Maria are travelled on foot, though there
would be no difficulty in opening a mule-road.
Any number of mules may be had in Lima at a hire of about seventy-five
cents a day. I paid more; but this was to be expected, for I bargained
with the muleteers that they were to stop where I pleased, and as long
as I pleased. The feed of a mule will average twelve and a half cents
per day. The load is two hundred and sixty pounds.
It would be difficult to persuade a muleteer to take a traveller all the
distance. They do not like to leave their own _beat_, and the traveller
has to change his mules, on an average, every hundred miles.
The passage of the Cordillera at the season of the year when we crossed
is neither very tedious nor laborious. In fact, we enjoyed much the
magnificent scenery; we were pleased with the manners and habits of a
primitive people; and we met hospitality and kindness everywhere. In
the season of the rains, however, the passage must be both difficult
and dangerous.
_August 2._—Tingo Maria is a prettily-situated village, of forty-eight
able bodied men, and an entire population of one hundred and
eighty-eight. This includes those who are settled at Juana del Rio and
the houses within a mile or two.
The _pueblo_ is situated in a plain on the left bank of the river, which
is about six miles in length, and three miles in its broadest part,
where the mountains back of it recede in a semi-circle from the river.
The height above the level of the sea is two thousand two hundred and
sixty feet. The productions of the plain are sugar-cane, rice, cotton,
tobacco, indigo, maize, sweet potatoes, yuccas, _sachapapa_, or potato
of the woods, (the large, mealy, purple-streaked tuberous root of a
vine, in taste like a yam, and very good food.) The woods are stocked
with game—such as _pumas_, or American tigers; deer; peccary, or
wild hog; _ronsoco_, or river hog; monkeys, &c. For birds—are several
varieties of "_curassow_," a large bird, something like a turkey, but
with, generally, a red bill, a crest, and shining blue-black plumage;
a delicate "_pava del monte_" or wild turkey; a great variety of
parrots; with large, black, wild ducks, and cormorants. There are also
rattlesnakes and vipers. But even with all these, I would advise no
traveller to trust to his gun for support. The woods are so thick and
tangled with undergrowth that no one but an Indian can penetrate them,
and no eyes but those of an Indian could see the game. Even he only
hunts from necessity, and will rarely venture into the thick forest
alone, for fear of the tiger or the viper. There are also good and
delicate fish in the river, but in no great abundance.
The inhabitants are of a tribe called _Cholones_, which was once large
and powerful. I like their character better than that of any Indians
whom I afterwards met with. They are good tempered, cheerful, and sober,
and by far the largest and finest-looking of the aborigines that I
have encountered. They are obedient to the church and attentive to her
ceremonies; and are more advanced than common in civilization, using
no paint as an ornament, but only staining their arms and legs with
the juice of a fruit called _huitoc_, that gives a dark, blue dye, as
a protection against the sand-flies, which are abundant, and a great
nuisance. The place is generally very healthy. The common diseases
are lymphatic swellings of the body and limbs, (supposed to be caused
by exposure to the great humidity of the atmosphere while fishing at
night,) and _sarna_, (a cutaneous affection, which covers the body
with sores, making the patient a loathsome object.) These sores dry up
and come off in scabs, leaving blotches on the skin, so that an Indian
is frequently seen quite mottled. I imagine it is caused by want of
cleanliness, and the bites of the sand-flies. They take, as a remedy,
the dried root of a small tree called _sárnango_, grated and mixed
with water. It is said to have a powerfully-intoxicating and stupefying
effect, and to cause the skin to peel off.
The huitoc is a nut-like fruit, about the size of a common black walnut
with its outer covering. It is, when ripe, soft, of a russet color
outside, and filled with a dark purple pulp and small seeds. The tree
is slender, and some fifteen or twenty feet high, shooting out broad
leaves, with the fruit growing at their base and underneath, like the
bread fruit. There is also here a small tree called _añil_, or indigo,
with a leaf narrow at its base and broad near the extremity, which
yields as deep a dye as the plant. There are also gay and fragrant
flowers in the gardens of the Indians.
Ijurra shot a large bat, of the vampire species, measuring about two
feet across the extended wings. This is a very disgusting-looking
animal, though its fur is very delicate, and of a glossy, rich maroon
color. Its mouth is amply provided with teeth, looking like that of a
miniature tiger. It has two long and sharp tusks in the front part of
each jaw, with two smaller teeth, like those of a hare or sheep, between
the tusks of the upper jaw, and four (much smaller) between those of
the lower. There are also teeth back of the tusks, extending far back
into the mouth. The nostrils seem fitted as a suction apparatus. Above
them is a triangular, cartilaginous snout, nearly half an inch long,
and a quarter broad at the base; and below them is a semi-circular
flap, of nearly the same breadth, but not so long. I suppose these
might be placed over the puncture made by the teeth, and the air
underneath exhausted by the nostrils, thus making them a very perfect
cupping-glass. I never heard it doubted, until my return home, that
these animals were blood-suckers; but the distinguished naturalist,
Mr. T. R. Peale, tells me that no one has ever seen them engaged in the
operation, and that he has made repeated attempts for that purpose, but
without success. On one occasion, when a companion had lost a good deal
of blood, the doors and windows of the house in which his party was
lying were closed, and a number of these bats, that were clinging to
the roof, killed; but none of them were found gorged, or with any signs
of having been engaged in blood-sucking. I also observed no apparatus
proper for making a delicate puncture. The tusks are quite as large as
those of a rat, and, if used in the ordinary manner, would make four
wounds at once, producing, I should think, quite sufficient pain to
awaken the most profound sleeper. Never having heard this doubt, it
did not occur to me to ask the Indians if they had ever seen the bat
sucking, or to examine the wounds of the horses that I had seen bleeding
from this supposed cause. On one occasion I found my blanket spotted
with blood, and supposed that the bat (having gorged himself on the
horses outside) had flown into the house, and, fastening himself to the
thatch over me, had disgorged upon my covering and then flown out. There
was no great quantity of blood, there being but five or six stains on
the blanket, such as would have been made by large drops. I presumed,
likewise, from the fact of the drops being scattered irregularly over a
small surface, that the bat had been hanging by his feet to the thatch,
and swinging about. The discovery of the drops produced a sensation of
deep disgust; and I have frequently been unable to sleep for fear of the
filthy beast. Every traveller in these countries should learn to sleep
with body and head enveloped in a blanket, as the Indians do.
I saw here, for the first time, the blow-gun of the Indians, called, by
the Spaniards, _cerbatana_; by the Portuguese of the river, _gravatana_,
(a corruption, I imagine, of the former, as I find no such Portuguese
word;) and by the Indians, _pucuna_. It is made of any long, straight
piece of wood, generally of a species of palm called chonta—a heavy,
elastic wood, of which bows, clubs, and spears are also made. The pole
or staff, about eight feet in length, and two inches diameter near the
mouth end, (tapering down to half an inch at the extremity,) is divided
longitudinally; a canal is hollowed out along the centre of each part,
which is well smoothed and polished by rubbing with fine sand and wood.
The two parts are then brought together; nicely woolded with twine; and
the whole covered with wax, mixed with some resin of the forest, to make
it hard. A couple of boar's teeth are fitted on each side of the mouth
end, and one of the curved front teeth of a small animal resembling a
cross between a squirrel and a hare, is placed on top for a sight. The
arrow is made of any light wood, generally the wild cane, or the middle
fibre of a species of palm-leaf, which is about a foot in length, and
of the thickness of an ordinary lucifer match. The end of the arrow,
which is placed next to the mouth, is wrapped with a light, delicate
sort of wild cotton, which grows in a pod upon a large tree, and is
called _huimba_; and the other end, very sharply pointed, is dipped in a
vegetable poison prepared from the juice of the creeper, called _bejuco
de ambihuasca_, mixed with _aji_, or strong red pepper, _barbasco_,
_sarnango_, and whatever substances the Indians know to be deleterious.
The marksman, when using his pucuna, instead of stretching out the left
hand along the body of the tube, places it to his mouth by grasping it,
with both hands together, close to the mouth-piece, in such a manner
that it requires considerable strength in the arms to hold it out at
all, much less steadily. If a practised marksman, he will kill a small
bird at thirty or forty paces. In an experiment that I saw, the Indian
held the pucuna horizontally, and the arrow blown from it stuck in the
ground at thirty-eight paces. Commonly the Indian has quite an affection
for his gun, and many superstitious notions about it. I could not
persuade one to shoot a very pretty black and yellow bird for me because
it was a carrion bird; and the Indian said that it would deteriorate
and make useless all the poison in his gourd. Neither will he discharge
his pucuna at a snake, for fear of the gun being made crooked like the
reptile; and a fowling-piece or rifle that has once been discharged at
an alligator is considered entirely worthless. A round gourd, with a
hole in it for the huimba, and a joint of the _caña brava_ as a quiver,
completes the hunting apparatus.
_August 3._—Went to church. The congregation—men, women, and
children—numbered about fifty; the service was conducted by the
governor, assisted by the alcalde. A little naked, bow legged Indian
child, of two or three years, and Ijurra's pointer puppy, which he
had brought all the way from Lima on his saddle-bow, worried the
congregation with their tricks and gambols; but altogether they were
attentive to their prayers, and devout. I enjoyed exceedingly the public
worship of God with these rude children of the forest; and, although
they probably understood little of what they were about, I thought I
could see its humanizing and fraternizing effect upon all.
At night we had a ball at the governor's house. The alcalde, who was
a trump, produced his fiddle; another had a rude sort of guitar, or
banjo; and under the excitement of his music, and the aguadiente of the
governor, who had had his cane ground in anticipation of our arrival,
we danced till eleven o'clock. The custom of the dance requires that a
gentleman should choose a lady and dance with her, in the middle of the
floor, till she gives over, (the company around clapping their hands
in time to the music, and cheering the dancers with _vivas_ at any
particular display of agility or spirit in the dance.) He then presents
his partner with a glass of grog, leads her to a seat, and chooses
another. When he tires there is a general drink, and the lady has the
choice. The _Señor Commandante_ was in considerable request; and a fat
old lady, who would not dance with anybody else, nearly killed me. The
governor discharged our guns several times, and let off some rockets
that we had brought from Huanuco; and doubt if Tingo Maria had ever
witnessed such a brilliant affair before.
_August 4._—I waked up with pain in the legs and headache from dancing,
and found our men and canoes ready for embarkation. After breakfast the
governor and his wife, (though I greviously fear that there had been
no intervention of the priest in the matter of the union,) together
with several of our partners of the previous night, accompanied us to
the port. After loading the canoes the governor made a short address to
the canoe-men, telling them that we "were no common persons; that they
were to have a special care of us: to be very obedient, &c., and that
he would put up daily prayers for their safe return;" whereupon, after
a glass all round, from a bottle brought down specially by our hostess,
and a hearty embrace of the governor, his lady, and my fat friend of
the night before, we embarked and shoved off; the boatmen blowing their
horns as we drifted rapidly down with the current of the river, and the
party on shore waving their hats and shouting their adieus.
We had two canoes; the largest about forty feet long, by two and a half
broad; hollowed out from a single log, and manned each by five men and
a boy. They are conducted by a _puntero_, or bowman, who looks out for
rocks or sunken trees ahead; a _popero_, or steersman, who stands on a
little platform at the stern of the boat and guides her motions; and the
_bogas_ or rowers, who stand up to paddle, having one foot in the bottom
of the boat and the other on the gunwale. When the river was smooth and
free from obstructions, we drifted with the current; the men sitting
on the trunks and boxes, chatting and laughing with each other; but, as
we approached a mal-paso, their serious looks, and the firm position in
which each one planted himself at his post, showed that work was to be
done. I felt a little nervous at first; but when we had fairly entered
the pass, the rapid gesture of the puntero, indicating the channel; the
elegant and graceful position of the popero, giving the boat a broad
sheer with the sweep of his long paddle; the desperate exertions of
the bogas; the railroad rush of the canoe; and the wild, triumphant,
screaming laugh of the Indians, as we shot past the danger, made a scene
that was much too exciting to admit of any other emotion than that of
admiration.
We passed many of these to-day, and were well soaked by the
canoes taking in water on each side; some of them were mere smooth
declivities—inclined planes of gravel, with only three or four inches
of water on them, so that the men had to get overboard, keep the canoes
_head on_ and drag them down. The average velocity of the river here
is three and a half miles to the hour; but when it dashes down one
of these declivities, it must be much more. The breadth of the river
is a constantly varying quantity, probably never over one hundred and
fifty yards, and never under thirty; banks low, and covered with trees,
bushes, and wild cane. There were hills on each side, some distance from
the bank, but now and then coming down to it. It is almost impossible to
estimate the distance travelled with any degree of accuracy. The force
of the current is very variable, and the Indians very irregular in their
manner of rowing—sometimes paddling half an hour with great vigor, and
then suffering the boat to drift with the tide. Averaging the current
at three and a half miles the hour, and the rowing at one and a half,
with nine hours of actual travel, we have forty-five miles for a day's
journey at this season. I have estimated the number of travelling hours
at nine, for we get off generally at 5 a. m., and stop at 5 p. m. We
spend two hours for breakfast, in the middle of the day, and another
hour is lost at the shallows of the river, or stopping to get a shot at
an animal or bird.
At half-past five we camped on the beach. The first business of the
boatmen when the canoe is secured, is to go off to the woods and cut
stakes and palm branches to make a house for the _patron_. By sticking
long poles in the sand, chopping them half in two, about five feet above
the ground, and bending the upper parts together, they make, in a few
minutes, the frame of a little shanty, which, thickly thatched with
palm leaves, will keep off the dew or an ordinary rain. Some bring the
drift-wood that is lying about the beach and make a fire; the provisions
are cooked and eaten; the bedding laid down upon the leaves that cover
the floor of the shanty; the mosquito nettings spread; and, after a
cup of coffee, a glass of grog, and a cigar, (if they are to be had,)
everybody retires for the night by eight o'clock. The Indians sleep
around the hut, each under his narrow cotton mosquito curtain, which
glisten in the moon-light like so many tomb-stones. This was pleasant
enough when provisions were plenty and the weather good; but when there
was no coffee or brandy, the cigars had given out, and there was a slim
allowance of only salt fish and plantains, with one of those nights of
heavy rain that are frequent upon the Marañon, I could not help calling
to mind, with some bitterness of spirit, the comforts of the ship-of-war
that I had left, to say nothing of the luxuries of home.
_August 6._—Started at eight. River seventy yards broad, nine feet
deep, pebbly bottom; current three miles per hour. We find in some
places, where hills come down to the river, as much as thirty feet of
depth. There are some quite high hills on the right-hand side, that
might be called mountains; they run north and south. I was surprised
that we saw no animals all day, but only river birds—such as black
ducks, cormorants, and king-fishers; also many parrots of various kinds
and brilliant plumage, but they always kept out of shot. We camped
at half-past five, tired and low-spirited, having had nothing to eat
all day but a little rice boiled with cheese early in the morning. My
wrists were sore and painful from sun-burn, and the sand-flies were very
troublesome. Heavy clouds, with thunder and lightning, in the N. W. In
the night, fresh breeze from that quarter. We heard tigers and monkeys
during the night, and saw the tiger-tracks near the camp next morning.
_August 6._—Soon after starting we saw a fine doe coming down towards
the river. We steered in, and got within about eighty yards of her,
when Ijurra and I fired together, the guns loaded with a couple of
rifle-balls each. The animal stood quite still for a few minutes, and
then walked slowly off towards the bushes. I gave my gun, loaded with
three rifle-balls, to the puntero, who got a close shot, but without
effect. One of the balls, a little flattened, was picked up close to
where the deer stood. These circumstances made the Indians doubt if she
were a deer; and I judge, from their gestures and exclamations, that
they thought it was some evil spirit that was ball-proof. I imagine that
the ball was flattened either by passing through the branch of a brush
or striking some particularly hard bone of the animal, or it might have
been jammed in the gun by the other balls.
These Indians have very keen senses, and see and hear things that are
inaudible and invisible to us. Our canoe-men this morning commenced
paddling with great vigor. I asked the cause, and they said that they
heard monkeys ahead. I think we must have paddled a mile before I heard
the sound they spoke of. When we came up to them, we found a gang of
large red monkeys in some tall trees on the river-side, making a noise
like the grunting of a herd of enraged hogs. We landed, and in a few
minutes I found myself beating my way through the thick undergrowth, and
hunting monkeys with as much excitement as I had ever hunted squirrels
when a boy. I had no balls with me, and my No. 3 shot only served to
sting them from their elevated position in the tops of the trees, and
bring them within reach of the pucunas of the Indians. They got two and
I one, after firing about a dozen shots into him. I never saw animals so
tenacious of life; this one was, as the Indians expressed it, _bathed
in shot_, (_bañado en municion_.) These monkeys were about the size of
a common terrier-dog, and were clad with a long, soft, maroon-colored
hair; they are called _cotomonos_, from a large goitre (coto) under the
jaw. This is an apparatus of thin bone in the wind-pipe, by means of
which they make their peculiar noise. The male, called _curaca_, (which
is also the appellation of the chief of a tribe of Indians,) has a long
red beard. They are called _guariba_ in Brazil, where they are said to
be black as well as red; and I believe they are of the species commonly
called _howling monkeys_.
It is scarcely worth while to say that the Indians use parts of this
animal for the cure of diseases, for I know no substance that could
possibly be used as a remedial agent that they do not use for that
purpose. The mother carries the young upon her back until it is able to
go alone. If the dam dies, the sire takes charge. There are vast numbers
in all the course of the river, and no day passes to the traveller that
they are not heard or seen.
When I arrived at the beach with my game, I found that the Indians had
made a fire and were roasting theirs. They did not take the trouble
to skin and clean the animal, but simply put him in the fire, and,
when well scorched, took him off and cut pieces from the fleshy parts
with a knife; if these were not sufficiently well done, they roasted
them farther on little stakes stuck up before the fire. I tried to eat
a piece, but it was so tough that my teeth would make no impression
upon it. The one I killed was _enciente_; the fœtus about double the
size of a wharf-rat. I wished to preserve it, but it was too large for
any bottles I had; whereupon the Indians roasted and ate it without
ceremony.
We also saw to-day several river hogs, and had an animated chase after
one, which we encountered on the river-side, immediately opposite a
nearly precipitous bank of loose earth, which crumbled under his feet
so that he could not climb it. He hesitated to take the water in face
of the canoes, so that we thought we had him; but after a little play
up and down the river-side, he broke his way through the line of his
adversaries, capsizing two Indians as he went, and took to the water.
This animal is amphibious, about the size of a half-grown hog, and
reminded me, in his appearance and movements, of the rhinoceros. He
is also red, and I thought it remarkable that the only animals we had
seen—the deer, the monkeys, and the hog—should be all of this color. It
is called _ronsoco_ here, and _capiuara_ in Brazil. In these Brazilian
names I follow the spelling of Baeña.
We also heard the barking of dogs on the right or _Infidel_ side of the
river, in contradistinction to the other, which is called _La parte de
la cristiandad_, supposed to be the dogs of the _Cashibos_ Indians of
the _Pachitea_.
Parrots and other birds were also more numerous than before.
We found the river to-day much choked with islands, shoals, and grounded
drift-wood; camped at half-past five, and supped upon monkey soup. The
monkey, as it regards toughness, was monkey still; but the liver, of
which I ate nearly the whole, was tender and good. Jocko, however, had
his revenge, for I nearly perished of nightmare. Some devil, with arms
as nervous as the monkey's, had me by the throat, and, staring on me
with his cold, cruel eye, expressed his determination to hold on to
the death. I thought it hard to die by the grasp of this fiend on the
banks of the strange river, and so early in my course; and upon making
a desperate effort, and shaking him off, I found that I had forgotten
to take off my cravat, which was choking me within an inch of my life.
_August 7._—We got off at half-past eight; at a quarter to ten passed
the port of _Uchiza_. This is a village nine miles from the river. The
port itself, like that of Tingo Maria, is a shed for the accommodation
of canoes and passengers. Nearly all the towns on the river are built
six or eight miles from the banks, on account of the overflow of the
country when the river is full. Some hill on the bank is generally
selected as the port, and a road is made thence to the town. This hill
is sometimes forty feet out of water, and sometimes covered, and the
whole land between it and the town overflowed. At a quarter past ten
we passed the Quebrada, or ravine of _Huinagua_, on the right. A small
stream comes down this ravine, the water of which is salt. The people
of Uchiza ascend it—a day's journey—to a salt hill, where they supply
themselves with this indispensable article. At twenty minutes past
eleven we passed another; and at 1 p. m. another, where the people of
_Tocache_ get their salt. It is a day's journey from Tocache to the
mouth of the Quebrada, and another to the salt hills.
To-day presented a remarkable contrast to yesterday for sportsmen. We
did not see a single animal, and very few birds; even parrots, generally
so plentiful, were scarce to-day. It was a day of work; the men paddled
well, and we must have made seventy miles. On approaching Tocache, which
was their last stage with us, the Indians almost deafened me with the
noise of their horns. These horns are generally made of pieces of wood
hollowed out thin, joined together, wrapped with twine, and coated with
wax. They are shaped like a blunderbuss, and are about four feet long;
the mouth-piece is of reed, and the sound deep and mellow. The Indians
always make a great noise on approaching any place, to indicate that
they come as friends. They fancy that they might otherwise be attacked,
as hostile parties always move silently.
We arrived at five. I was wearied with the monotonous day's journey and
the heat of the sun, and anticipated the arrival with pleasure, thinking
that we were going to stop at a large village and get something good to
eat; but I was grievously disappointed. We arrived only at the port,
which was, as usual, a shed on a hill; the village being nine miles
off. There was nothing to eat here: so we determined to start inland
and see what we could pick up. A rapid walk of an hour and a quarter
brought us to _Lamasillo_, which I had been told was a pueblo of whites,
but which we found to be but a single house with a "platanal" attached
to it. There were other houses near, but none within sight. I had been
under the impression that "pueblo" meant a village, but I think now it
signifies any settled country, though the houses may be miles apart.
With much persuasion we induced the people of the house to sell us a
couple of bottles of aguadiente and a pair of chickens. The governor
of the district had been at this place within the hour, but was gone to
Tocache, which we understood to be two _coceadas_ further on, or about
the same distance that we had come over from the port to this place.
Distance is frequently estimated by the time that a man will occupy in
taking a chew of coca. From the distance between the port and Lamasillo,
it appears that a chew of coca is about three-fourths of a league, or
thirty-seven and a half minutes.
We walked back by moonlight, and had a fowl cooked forthwith; which,
as we had had nothing but a little monkey soup early in the morning,
we devoured more like tigers than Christian men. We found at the
port several travelling merchants from Moyobamba. One party had been
to Huanuco by land, with a cargo of straw hats and tobacco, which
they sold at about fifty per cent. advance on prime cost. This is a
miserable traffic, for the round trip occupies four months, and is one
of great hardship. The other party were going by the river in canoes to
Huanuco, with the same cargo, and in addition some rice and rare birds.
Travellers go up by the river when it is low, and by land when the river
is high. The returning party were going down on _balsas_, which they
had constructed at Tingo Maria. These balsas are logs of a light kind
of wood, called balsa wood, placed side by side, half a foot apart, and
secured by other pieces lashed athwart them. A platform raised on small
logs is elevated amidships for the cargo to rest on; and the rowers,
standing upon the lower logs, have their feet in the water all the time.
After getting clear of all the rapids of a river, they of course may be
built of any size, and comfortable houses erected on them. I should have
preferred coming down the Amazon in that way, but that I contemplated
ascending other rivers.
We made our beds in the canoes under the shed, and, tired as we
were, slept comfortably enough. It seems a merciful dispensation of
Providence that the sand-flies go to bed at the same time with the
people; otherwise I think one could not live in this country. We have
not yet been troubled with musquitoes. The sand-flies are here called
"mosquitos," the diminutive of _mosca_, a fly; our musquitoes are called
_sancudos_. The sand-flies are very troublesome in the day, and one
cannot write or eat in any comfort. Everybody's hands in this country
are nearly black from the effects of their bite, which leaves a little
round black spot, that lasts for weeks. It is much better to bear the
sting than to irritate the part by scratching or rubbing.
_August 8._—I sent Ijurra to Tocache to communicate with the governor,
while I spent the day in writing up my journal, and drying the equipage
that had been wetted in the journey. In the afternoon I walked into
the woods with an Indian, for the purpose of seeing him kill a bird
or animal with his pucuna. I admired the stealthy and noiseless manner
with which he moved through the woods, occasionally casting a wondering
and reproachful glance at me as I would catch my foot in a creeper
and pitch into the bushes with sufficient noise to alarm all the game
within a mile round. At last he pointed out to me a toucan, called by
the Spaniards _predicador_, or preacher, sitting on a branch of a tree
out of the reach of his gun. I fired and brought him down with a broken
wing. The Indian started into the bushes after him; but, finding him
running, he came back to me for his pucuna, which he had left behind. In
a few minutes he brought the bird to me with an arrow sticking in his
throat. The bird was dead in two minutes after I saw it, and probably
in two and a half minutes from the time it was struck. The Indian said
that his poison was good, but that it was in a manner ejected by the
flow of blood, which covered the bird's breast, and which showed that
a large blood-vessel of the neck had been pierced. I do not know if his
reasoning were good or not.
Ijurra returned at eight, tired, and in a bad humor. He reported that he
had hunted the governor from place to place all day; had come up with
him at last and obtained the promise that we should have canoes and
men to prosecute our journey. My companion, who has been sub-prefect
or governor of the whole province which we are now in, (Mainas,)
and who has appointed and removed these governors of districts at
pleasure, finds it difficult to sue where he had formerly commanded.
He consequently generally quarrels with those in authority; and I have
to put myself to some trouble, and draw largely upon my "bon homie" to
reconcile the differences, and cool down the heats, which his impatience
and irritability often occasion. He, however, did good service to the
cause, by purchasing a hog and some chickens, which were to appear
to-morrow.
_August 9._—We had people to work killing and salting our hog. We had
difficulty in getting some one to undertake this office, but the man
from whom we purchased the hog stood our friend, and brought down his
family from Lamasillo to do the needful. We had very little benefit
from our experiment in this way. We paid eight dollars for the hog,
twenty-five cents for salt, twenty-five cents to _Don_ Isidro, who
brought him down to the port, and fifty cents to the same gentleman for
butchering him. The wife and children of the owner took their pay for
salting and smoking out of the hog himself. Our friends going up stream
(according to Ijurra) stole half, and what was left spoiled before we
could eat it.
Everybody is a Don in this country. Our Indian boatmen, at least
the Poperos, are Dons; and much ceremonious courtesy is necessary in
intercourse with them. I have to treat the governors of the districts
with all manner of ceremony; when, while he exacts this, and will get
sulky, and afford me no facilities without it, he will entertain the
proposition to go along with me as my servant.
I had a note from the governor, not written but signed by himself,
requesting to know how many men I wanted, and saying that he hoped to
see us in the pueblo early to-morrow. We excused ourselves from going to
the town, and requested him to send the men down to the port for their
pay. This he would not do, but insisted that we should pay at least at
Lamasillo. We always pay in advance, and the boatmen generally leave
their cotton cloth, in which they are nearly always paid, with their
wives. These have preferred their pay partly in money.
_August 10._—The party for Huanuco got off this morning, and left the
shed to Ijurra and me. Whilst bathing in the river, I saw an animal
swimming down the stream towards me, which I took to be a fox or cat.
I threw stones at it, and it swam to the other side of the river and
took to the forest. Very soon after, a dog, who was evidently in chase,
came swimming down, and missing the chase from the river, swam round
in circles for some minutes before giving it up. This animal, from my
description, was pronounced to be an ounce, or tiger-cat. It is called
_tigre_ throughout all this country, but is never so large or ferocious
as the African tiger. They are rather spotted like the leopard, than
striped like the tiger. They are said, when hungry, to be sufficiently
dangerous, and no one cares to bring them to bay without good dogs and
a good gun.
We talked so much about tigers and their carrying off people whilst
asleep, that I, after going to bed, became nervous; and every sound near
the shed made me grasp the handles of my pistols. After midnight I was
lulled to sleep by the melancholy notes of a bird that Lieutenant Smyth
calls "Alma Perdida," or lost soul. Its wild and wailing cry from the
depths of the forest seemed, indeed, as sad and despairing as that of
one without hope.
_August 11._—Ijurra went to Lamasillo to pay the boatmen, some of them
having come down to the port to carry up the cotton cloth. This left
me entirely alone. The sense of loneliness, and the perfect stillness
of the great forest, caused me to realize in all its force the truth of
Campbell's fine line—
"The solitude of earth that overawes."
It was strange, when the scratch of my pen on the paper ceased, to hear
absolutely no sound. I felt so much the want of society, that I tried to
make a friend of the lithe, cunning-looking lizard that ran along the
canoe at my side, and that now and then stopped, raised up his head,
and looked at me, seemingly in wonder.
I could see no traces of the height of the river in the _crecido_, or
full; but, from a mark pointed out by one of the Indians, I judged that
the river has here a perpendicular rise and fall of thirty feet. He
represents it at a foot in depth at high water on the hill upon which
we now are, and its borders at three-fourths of a mile inland. Smyth
speaks of the river having fallen ten feet in a single night.
The hill on which the port of Tocache is situated, is about thirty
feet above the present level of the river, and by boiling point is one
thousand five hundred and seventy-nine feet above the level of the sea.
A canoe arrived from _Juan Juy_, and a party of two from _Saposoa_
by land. These are towns further down the river. Each party had its
_pitakas_, (hide trunks,) containing straw hats, rice, tobacco, and
_tocuyo listado_, a striped cotton cloth, much used in Huanuco for
"tickings." It is astonishing to see how far this generally lazy people
will travel for a dollar.
_August 18._—Had a visit from the governor last night. He is a little,
bare-footed Mestizo, dressed in the short frock and trousers of the
Indians. He seemed disposed to do all in his power to facilitate us and
forward us on our journey. I asked him about the tigers. He said he had
known three instances of their having attacked men in the night; two of
them were much injured, and one died.
Our boatmen made their appearance at 10 a. m., accompanied by their
wives, bringing masato for the voyage. The women carry their children
(lashed flat on the back to a frame of reeds) by a strap around the
brow, as they do any other burden. The urchins look comfortable and
contented, and for all the world like young monkeys.
The Indians of this district are _Ibitos_. They are less civilized than
the Cholones of Tingo Maria, and are the first whose faces I have seen
regularly painted. They seem to have no fixed pattern, but each man
paints according to his fancy; using, however, only two colors—the blue
of Huitoc and the red "Achote."
The population of the district is contained in the villages of Tocache,
Lamasillo, _Isonga_, and _Pisana_, and amounts to about five hundred
souls. The road between the port and Tocache is level and smooth; the
soil dark, of a light character, and very rich, though thin. Nothing
is sent from this district for sale, and the inhabitants purchase the
cotton for their garments from the itinerant traders on the river,
paying for it with tobacco. I should judge from the periodical overflow
of the lands, the heat of the sun, and the lightness and richness of
the soil, that this would be the finest rice country in the world.
We started at twelve with two canoes and twelve men; river fifty yards
broad, eighteen feet deep, and with three miles an hour current; a
stream called the Tocache empties into it about half a mile below the
port. It forces its way through five channels, over a bank of stones and
sand. It is doubtless a fine large-looking river when at high water.
The country is hilly on the right and flat on the left-hand side. At
3 p. m. we entered a more hilly country, and began to encounter again
the malos pasos; passed the _Rio Grande de Meshuglla_, which comes in
on the left in the same manner as the Tocache, and soon after, the port
of Pisana; no houses at the port; saw an old white man on the beach,
who was a cripple, and said he had been bedridden for nine years. He
begged us for needles, or fish-hooks, or anything we had. We gave him
a dollar. He is the first beggar for charity's sake that I recollected
to have seen since leaving Lima. There are beggars enough, but they ask
for presents, or, offering to buy some article, expect that it shall be
given to them.
The river is now entirely broken up by islands and rapids. In passing
one of these, we came very near being capsized. Rounding suddenly the
lower end of an island, we met the full force of the current from
the other side, which, striking us on the beam, nearly rolled the
canoe over. The men, in their fright, threw themselves on the upper
gunwale of the boat which gave us a _heel_ the other way, and we very
nearly filled. Had the popero fallen from his post, (and he tottered
fearfully,) we should probably have been lost; but by great exertions
he got the boat's head down stream, and we shot safely by rocks that
threatened destruction.
At six we arrived at the port of _Balsayacu_. The pueblo, which I found,
as usual, to consist of one house, was a pleasant walk of half a mile
from the port. We slept there, instead of at the beach; and it was well
that we did, for it rained heavily all night. The only inhabitants of
the rancho seemed to be two little girls; but I found in the morning
that one of them had an infant, though she did not appear to be more
than twelve or thirteen years of age. I suppose there are more houses
in the neighborhood; but, as I have before said, a pueblo is merely a
settlement, and may extend over leagues. The sandy point at the port is
covered with large boulders, mostly of a dark red conglomerate, though
there were stones of almost every kind brought down by the stream and
deposited there. We travelled to-day about twenty-five miles; course
N. W. by N.; average depth of the reaches of the river sixteen feet;
current three and a half miles to the hour.
_August 13._—Last night Ijurra struck with a fire-brand one of the
boatmen, who was drunk, and disposed to be insolent, and blackened
and burned his face. The man—a powerful Indian, of full six feet in
height—bore it like a corrected child in a blubbering and sulky sort of
manner. This morning he has the paint washed off his face, and looks as
humble as a dog; though I observed a few hours afterwards that he was
painted up again, and had resumed the usual gay and good-tempered manner
of his tribe.
Between ten and eleven we passed the mal-paso of _Mataglla_, just below
the mouth of the river of the same name, which comes in on the left,
clear and cool into the Huallaga. The temperature of this stream was 69;
that of the Huallaga 74. Ijurra thought its waters were decidedly salt,
though I could not discover it. This mal-paso is the worst that I have
yet encountered. We dared not attempt it under oar, and the canoe was
let down along the shore, stern foremost, by a rope from its bows, and
guided between the rocks by the popero—sometimes with his paddle, and
sometimes overboard, up to his middle in water. I am told that "balsas"
pass in mid-channel, but I am sure a canoe would be capsized and filled.
The mal-paso is a quarter of a mile long, and an effectual bar, except
perhaps at high water, to navigation for any thing but a canoe or balsa.
Just before reaching _Sion_ we passed the _Pan de Azucar_, a sugar-loaf
island of slate rock; white when exposed long to the atmosphere; seventy
or eighty feet in height, and covered with small trees. It appears to
have been a promontory torn from the main land and worn into its present
shape by the force of the current.
The river to-day averages one hundred yards in breadth, eighteen feet
of depth, and with four miles of current. Its borders are hilly, and it
runs straighter and more directly to the north than before.
At 1 p. m. we arrived at the port of Sion. This is the port _de la
madre_, or of the main river. There is another port situated on the
Caño or arm of the main river, nearer the pueblo. The village lies in
a S. W. direction, about a mile from the port. As our Tocache men were
to leave us here, we had all the baggage taken up to the town. The walk
is a pleasant one, over a level road of fine sand, well shaded with
large trees. Ijurra, who went up before me, met the priest of Saposoa
(who is on the annual visit to his parish) going south, and about to
embark at the Caño port; and the governor of the district going north
to _Pachiza_, the capital. This last left orders that we should be well
received; and the lieutenant governor of the pueblo lodged us in the
_convento_, or priest's house, and appointed us a cook and a servant.
I slept comfortably on the padre's bedstead, enclosed with matting to
keep off the bats. The people appear to make much of the visit of their
priest. I saw in the corner of the _sala_, or hall of the house, a sort
of rude palanquin, which I understood to have been constructed to carry
his reverence back and forth, between the city and port.
_August 14._—We employed the morning in cleaning the arms and drying the
equipage. Had a visit from some ladies, pretty Mestizas, (descendants
of white and Indian,) who examined the contents of our open trunks with
curiosity and delight. They refrained, however, from asking for anything
until they saw some chancaca with which we were about to sweeten our
morning coffee, when they could contain themselves no longer; but
requested a bit. This seems an article of great request, for no sooner
had the news spread that we had it, than the alcalde brought us an egg
to exchange for some; and even the lieutenant governor also expressed
his desire for a little. We refused the dignitaries, though we had given
some to the ladies; for we had but enough for two or three cups more.
Their wants, however, were not confined to sugar. They asked, without
scruple, after a while, for anything they saw; and the lieutenant
wanted a little sewing cotton, and some of the soap we brought to wash
ourselves with, to take for physic. These things we could more easily
part with, and I had no objection to give him some, and also to regale
his wife with a pair of pinchbeck earrings. There is nothing made or
cultivated here for sale. They raise a few fowls and some yuccas and
plantains for their own use; and it was well that we brought our own
provisions along, or we might have starved.
I do not wonder at the indifference of the people to attempt to better
their condition. The power of the governor to take them from their labor
and send them on journeys of weeks' duration with any passing merchant
or traveller, would have this effect. At this time they have furnished
canoes and rowers for the priest, and a Señor Santa Maria, bound up
the river; and for the governor and us, bound down; which has taken
thirty-eight men out of a population of ninety. (The whole population
of the town and neighborhood, reckoning women and children, is three
hundred.)
The town appears to have been once in a better condition than it is
now. There are remains of a garden attached to the convent, and also of
instruments of husbandry and manufacture—such as rude mortars, hollowed
out from the trunk of a tree, for beating (with pestles) the husk from
rice, and a press for putting into shape the crude wax gathered from
the hollow trees by the Indians, used by the friars "lang syne"—all now
seem going to decay. The people are lazy and indifferent. They cultivate
plantains sufficient to give them to eat, and yuccas enough to make
masato to get drunk on; and this seems all they need. Most of their time
is spent in sleeping, drinking, and dancing. Yesterday they were dancing
all day, having a feast preparatory to going to work to clear ground,
and make a chacra for our "Lady of something," which the priest, in his
recent visit, had commanded; (the produce of this chacra is doubtless
for the benefit of the church or its ministers;) and I have no doubt
that the Indians will have another feast when the job is done.
The dance was a simple affair so far as figure was concerned—the women
whirling round in the centre, and the men (who were also the musicians)
trotting around them in a circle. The music was made by rude drums, and
fifes of reed, and it was quite amusing to see the alcalde, a large,
painted, grave-looking Indian, trotting round like a dog on a tread
mill, with a penny whistle at his mouth. I am told that they will dance
in this way as long as there is drink, if it reach to a month. I myself
have heard their music—the last thing at night as I was going to bed,
and the first thing in the morning as I was getting up—for days at a
time. The tune never changes, and seems to be the same everywhere in
the Montaña. It is a monotonous tapping of the drum, very like our naval
_beat to quarters_.
We embarked at the Caño port, and dropped down the Caño, a mile and a
half to the river. We found the river deep and winding, and running,
generally, between high cliffs of a white rock. The white, however,
is superficial, and seems to be imparted by age and weather. Where the
action of the water had worn the white off, the rock showed dark brown,
and in layers of about two feet thick, the seams running N. N. W. and
S. S. E., and at an angle elevated towards the north of 45°. It is
argillaceous schist, which is the character of most of the rock of this
country.
We passed the mal-paso of _Shapiama_, and, with fifteen minutes'
interval, those of _Savolayacu_ and _Cachihuanushca_. In the first two
the canoes were let down with ropes, and we shot the last under oar,
which I was surprised at, as I had heard that it was one of the worst
on the river. Malos pasos, however, which are formidable when the river
is full, are comparatively safe when it is low; and _vice versa_. Smyth
passed when the river was high—I at the opposite season; and for this
reason our accounts of the rapids would vary and appear contradictory.
After passing the last we found the hills lower, the country more open,
and the river wider and with a gentler flow. The average depth to-day
in the smooth parts is thirty feet; current, three miles.
We passed the port of _Valle_ on the left. A small stream enters here.
The town, containing five hundred inhabitants, is six miles from the
port.
About sunset we arrived at _Challuayacu_, a settlement of twenty houses.
All the inhabitants, except those of one house, were absent. We were
told that they had been disobedient in some matter to the governor of
the district, and that he had come upon them with a force and carried
them off prisoners to Juan Juy, a large town further down the river,
where authority might be brought to bear upon them.
The village is situated in a large and fertile plain, which reaches from
near the town of Valle, on the S. W., to Pachisa, on the N.; but this
is not yet settled or cultivated, and, as at Sion, nothing is produced
except the bare necessaries of life. Some attempt, however, had been
made at improvements, for there were two small horses, in tolerable
condition, wandering about among the deserted houses of the village.
They eat the tops of the sugar-cane, the skin of the plantain, or
almost any vegetable. They were brought from somewhere below to turn a
trapiche; but everything seems abandoned now, and, there being no one to
take care of the horses, I fancy the bats will soon bleed them to death.
_August 16._—Lovely morning. On stepping out of the house my attention
was attracted by a spider's web covering the whole of a large lemon-tree
nearly. The tree was oval and well shaped; and the web was thrown over
it in the most artistic manner, and with the finest effect. Broad
flat cords were stretched out, like the cords of a tent, from its
circumference to the neighboring bushes; and it looked as if some genius
of the lamp, at the command of its master, had exhausted taste and skill
to cover with this delicate drapery the rich-looking fruit beneath. I
think the web would have measured full ten yards in diameter.
The river opposite Challuayacu is one hundred yards broad, shallow and
rapid. A few miles below, it spreads out to one hundred and fifty yards;
and in what seemed mid-channel, there was but six feet water, with a
bottom of fine sand, and a current of four miles the hour. Hills on
the right, but retiring from the shores; a perfect plain, covered with
trees, bushes, and wild cane, on the left.
At noon we arrived at the mouth of the _Huayabamba_, which is one
hundred yards wide, has six feet water, and a beautiful pebbly bottom.
A quarter of an hour's drag of the canoe along the right bank brought
us to the village of _Lupuna_, the port of Pachiza. It contains fifteen
houses and about seventy-five inhabitants. A little rice is grown; but
the staple production is cotton, which seemed to be abundant. This may
be called a manufacturing place; for almost every woman was engaged in
spinning, and many balls of cotton-thread were hanging from the rafters
of each house. A woman, spinning with diligence all day, will make four
of these balls. These weigh a pound, and are worth twenty-five cents.
They are very generally used as currency, there being little money in
the country. I saw some English prints, which were worth thirty-seven
and a half cents the yard; (cost in Lima twelve and a half;) they come
either by the way of Huanuco, or across the country, by Truxillo,
Chachapoyas, and Moyobamba; and are paid for in hats, wax, or these
balls of cotton.
We had a visit from the governor of Pachiza, which town is situated on
the right bank of the river, three miles above Lupuna. I asked him why
he had carried away prisoners nearly all the population of Challuayacu.
He merely said that they had been rebellious, and resisted his
authority, and therefore he had taken them to Juan Juy, where they could
be secured and punished. I thought it a pity that a thriving settlement
should be broken up, very probably on account of some personal quarrel.
The district comprises the pueblos of Pachiza, of eighty matrimonios;
Valle, eighty; _Huicunga_, thirty; Sion, thirty; _Archiras_, sixteen;
Lupuna, fifteen; _Shepti_, twelve; _Bijao_, four; and Challuayacu,
three. The number of souls in a village, proportionate to the number
of matrimonios, or married couples, is generally estimated at five for
one. This would give the population of the district thirteen hundred and
fifty. The people are indolent and careless; and although there could
not well be a finer or more productive country than all this district,
yet they barely exist.
After we had retired to our mats beneath the shed for the night, I
asked the governor if he knew a bird called _El alma perdida_. He did
not know it by that name, and requested a description. I whistled an
imitation of its notes; whereupon, an old crone, stretched on a mat near
us, commenced, with animated tones and gestures, a story in the Inca
language, which, translated, ran somehow thus:
An Indian and his wife went out from the village to work their chacra,
carrying their infant with them. The woman went to the spring to get
water, leaving the man in charge of the child, with many cautions to
take good care of it. When she arrived at the spring she found it dried
up, and went further to look for another. The husband, alarmed at her
long absence, left the child and went in search. When they returned the
child was gone; and to their repeated cries, as they wandered through
the woods in search, they could get no response save the wailing cry of
this little bird, heard for the first time, whose notes their anxious
and excited imagination "syllabled" into _pa-pa_, _ma-ma_, (the present
Quichua name of the bird.) I suppose the Spaniards heard this story,
and, with that religious poetic turn of thought which seems peculiar to
this people, called the bird "The lost soul."
The circumstances under which the story was told—the beautiful still,
starlight night—the deep, dark forest around—the faint-red glimmering
of the fire, flickering upon the old woman's gray hair and earnest face
as she poured forth the guttural tones of the language of a people now
passed away—gave it a sufficiently romantic interest to an imaginative
man. The old woman was a small romance in herself. I had looked at
her with interest as she cooked our supper. She wore a costume that is
sometimes, though not often, seen in this country. The body, or upper
part of the dress, which was black, consisted of two parts—one coming
up from the waist behind and covering the back, the other in front,
covering the breast; the two tied together over each shoulder with
strings, leaving her lank sides and long skinny arms perfectly bare.
_August 17._—We procured a canoe sufficiently large to carry all our
baggage, (we had hitherto had two,) with eight peons. We found hills now
on both sides of the river, which a little below Lupuna has one hundred
and twenty yards of breadth and thirty feet of depth. We passed a small
raft, with a house built of cane and palm upon it, containing an image
of the Virgin, which was bound up the river seeking contributions. The
people buy a step towards Heaven in this way with their little balls of
cotton.
We passed abreast of Juan Juy; but, a long island intervening, we did
not see it. It is a large village of five hundred inhabitants; it is
situated in a plain, a great part of which is overflowed by the river at
the full; and much rice is cultivated there. I have met with the rice
of Juan Juy everywhere on the river. Soon after we passed the mouth of
the river _Sapo_, which is fifty yards broad, and muddy; navigable for
large canoes for twenty miles to the town of Saposoa, which contains one
thousand inhabitants, and is the capital of the comparatively populous
district of that name.
The Huallaga, which for some miles above this has but six feet of water,
at this place has eighteen; but it soon diminishes to six again.
We stopped at a collection of three or four huts called _Oge_, where
there was a trapiche to grind sugar-cane; but the people only made bad
rum of it. We tried to purchase yuccas and plantains; but though they
had them, they did not care to sell. They only plant enough for their
own necessities. Great quantities of yuccas are used to make their
masato. Below this we passed a rancho on the right-hand side, where
there was a fine field of maize. This is the first settlement we have
seen on that bank; fear of the savages, (or _Infidels_,) as they are
called, who dwell on that side, preventing it.
We stopped for the night at _Juan Comas_, a small village situated on a
bluff of light sandy soil, on the left bank. The hills on the other side
are much more bare than is common, having only a few small trees and
scattering bushes on them. We were quite objects of curiosity, and most
of the people of the village came in to see us; one man, a strapping
fellow, came in, and after a brief but courteous salutation to me,
turned to one of the women, and drove her out of the house with kicks
and curses. He followed her, and I soon after heard the sound of blows
and the cries of a woman; I suppose the fellow was either jealous, or
the lady had neglected some household duty to gratify her curiosity.
_August 18._—Just below Juan Comas the river has one hundred yards of
width and forty-two feet of depth. This part of the river is called
the "well" of Juan Comas; it is half a mile in length, and the current
runs but one and a quarter mile the hour. The hills terminate just
below this, and we have the country flat on both sides. We passed some
rocky hills on the right-hand side, in one of which is a cave called
"Puma-huasi," or Tiger house. It is said to be very extensive. Soon
after we passed the mouth of the river _Hunanza_, a small stream coming
in on the Infidel side of the river. Our popero says that the Infidels
dwell near here, and the people of _Tarapoto_ go a short distance up
this river to capture the young Indians and take them home as slaves.
I believe this story; for I found servants of this class in Tarapoto,
who were bought and sold as slaves. Slavery is prohibited by the laws
of Peru; but this system is tolerated on the plea that the Infidel is
christianized and his condition bettered by it.
It is very easy for only a few white men, armed with guns, to rob the
savages of their children; for these rarely live in villages, but in
families of at most three or four huts, and widely separated from each
other. They never assemble except for the purpose of war; and then the
sound of a horn, from settlement to settlement, brings them together.
They are also a timid people, and will not face the white man's gun.
It is possible that the story of the popero is not true, and that the
whites may buy the children of the Indians; but if so, I imagine that
the advantages of the bargain are all on one side.
Below the mouth of the Hunanza we have the same comparatively bare hills
that I noticed opposite Juan Comas. They present ridges of red earth
and dark stone, which curve from the south towards the northeast, and
are elevated in that direction to about 20°. I suspect that they have
veins of salt, particularly as the salt hills of _Pilluana_ are of the
same range, and present at a distance nearly the same appearance.
The hills of Pilluana, which we now soon passed, have their base
immediately upon the river, on the right-hand side. They are about three
hundred feet in height, and stretch along the banks of the river for
a quarter of a mile. The salt shows like frost upon the red earth at
a distance; but seen nearer the heavy rains seem to have washed away
the loose earth and left nearly the pure salt standing in innumerable
cone-shaped pinnacles, so that the broken sides of the hills look like
what drawings represent of the crater of a volcano, or the bottom of
a geyser. Where the hills have been excavated, beautiful stalactites
of perfectly pure salt hang from the roof in many varieties of shapes.
There are much higher hills back of these, that appear also to contain
salt; so that there seems a supply here for all people and for all time.
We passed the mouth of the river _Mayo_, that comes in on the left
between moderately high hills, and five minutes after arrived at
_Shapaja_, one of the ports of Tarapoto. The river, just above the
junction of the Mayo, narrows to forty yards, has thirty and thirty-six
feet of depth, and increases much in velocity. This is preparatory to
its rush over the "_Pongo_," a strait of forty-five miles in length,
where the river is confined between high hills, is much broken with
malos pasos, and has its last considerable declivity.
Shapaja has twenty houses, mostly concealed in the high groves of
plantains which surround them. Nearly all the men were away fishing, but
the women (as always) received us kindly, and cooked our supper for us.