Cochiquinas—Caballo Cocha—Alligators—Indian
Incantations—Loreto—Tabatinga—River Yavari—San Paulo—River
Iça—Tunantins—Making manteiga—River Jutay—Fonteboa—River
Juruá—River Japurá.
Cochiquinas, or New Cochiquinas, is a miserable fishing village of
two hundred and forty inhabitants; though at this time there did not
appear to be forty in the village, most of them being absent fishing
and seeking a livelihood. Old Cochiquinas is four miles further down
the river, and seems a far better situation; but the people there were
afraid of the attacks of the savages of the Yavari, and removed up to
this place.
The old town, to which place we dropped down to breakfast, has one
hundred and twenty inhabitants, of which twenty-five are white, and the
rest Indians of the Yavari, called _Marubos_. These are dressed with
even more simplicity than the Yaguas, dispensing with the mop behind.
They have small, curly moustaches and beards; are darker than the other
Indians; and do nothing but hunt for their living.
The governor treated us very civilly, and gave us a good breakfast of
soup, chickens, rice, and eggs, with milk just taken from the cow. What
a luxury! I saw before his door a large canoe filled with unshelled
rice, of very good quality. The governor told us that rice grew very
well, and gave about forty-fold in five months. He seemed a very
gay and good-tempered young person, with a fine family of a wife and
eleven remarkably handsome children—some born in lawful wedlock, others
natural—but all cared for alike, and brought up together. I had the
impertinence to ask him how he supported so many people. He said that
the forest and the river yielded abundantly, and that he occasionally
made an expedition to the Napo, and collected sarsaparilla enough to
buy clothes and luxuries for his family in Loreto. The Napo, he says,
is very full of sand-banks, and that twenty days from its mouth the men
have to get overboard and drag the canoes.
The Yavari may be reached from this point by land in four days. The
banks of the river at this place are steep, and about thirty feet in
height above the present level. Veins of the same black clay slate that
we saw at Pebas, and that burned with a bituminous smell, also crop out
of the banks here.
We sailed at noon, and arrived at _Peruaté_ at 5 p. m., (twenty miles.)
The population of this village is one hundred, made up of remnants of
different tribes—_Ticunas_, and natives of the towns of Barranca, on the
upper Amazon, and Andoas, on the Pastaza. I talked with an old negro
who had been many times up the Napo. He confirmed the accounts that I
had from other people.
_November 28._—From Peruaté to Camucheros is thirty miles. This place
has only a population of four families, recently settled there, who
have cleared away a small portion of the forest and commenced their
plantations of yuccas, maize, and rice. Just below Camucheros we had
apparently all the width of the river in view—about a mile broad. I was
surprised to find, near the middle of it, only thirty feet of water.
I think a sand-bank stretches out a long way from the left shore. The
velocity of the current was two and a quarter miles the hour. We arrived
at Moromoroté at a quarter past 6 p. m., (distance fifteen miles.)
This consists of one house of Christianized Indians. There is a house of
Ticunas a mile further inland. We could hear the sound of their music,
and sent them word that we wanted to buy animals and food from them.
They came to see us after night, but were drunk, and had nothing to
sell.
_November 29._—We passed to-day a number of small islands. Between one
of them and the right bank, where the river was at least a quarter of a
mile wide, we saw many trees grounded, and, in what appeared the deepest
part, found but twelve feet of water. Doubtless there is more in the
other channels, and more might possibly be found in this.
At 9 a. m., after a journey of twenty miles, we entered the caño of
_Caballococha_, (Horse lake.) It is about eighty yards wide, and has
eighteen feet of depth in the middle. The water is clear, and makes
an agreeable contrast with the muddy waters of the Amazon; but, there
being no current in the caño, the water is supposed to be not so good to
drink as that of the main river, which is very good when it is allowed
to settle.
The village is situated on the caño, about a mile and a half from
the entrance, and at the same distance from the lake. It contains two
hundred and seventy-five inhabitants, mostly Ticunas Indians. These
are darker than the generality of Indians of the Marañon, though not so
dark as the Marubos; and they are beardless, which frees them from the
negro-look that these last have. Their houses are generally plastered
with mud inside, and are far neater-looking, and more comfortable, than
the other Indian residences that I have seen. This is, however, entirely
owing to the activity and energy of the priest, Father Flores, who seems
to have them in excellent order. They are now building a church for him,
which, when finished, will be the finest in the Montaña.
The men are all decently clad in frocks and trousers; and the women,
besides the usual roll of cotton cloth around the loins, wear a short
tunic covering the breast. I think that Father Flores, though he wants
the honest simplicity and kindness of heart of Valdivia, and the noble
patience, magnanimity, and gentleness of dear Father Calvo, is a better
man for the Indians, and more successful in their management, than
either of the others. He does not seem to care about their coming to
church; for there was not an Indian at mass Sunday morning, (though
the padre did give us a little homily on the importance of attending
worship); but he has them afraid of him, keeps them at work, sees that
they keep themselves and houses clean, and the streets of the village
in order; and I saw none of the abominable drinking and dancing with
which the other Indians invariably wind up the Sunday.
The town is situated on quite an extensive plain; the soil is of a
light, and rather sandy character, which, even in the rainy season,
quickly absorbs the water, and makes the walking always agreeable.
This is very rarely the case with the other villages of the Amazon.
The climate is said to be very hot; and, from the fact that the village
is yet closely surrounded by the forest, which keeps off the breeze, I
suspect this is the case in the dry season. I did not find it so at this
time.
It is very dangerous to bathe in the caño, on account of the alligators.
Not long before my arrival, a woman, bathing after night-fall, in
company with her husband, was seized and carried off by one of those
monsters. She was not even in the caño, but was sitting on the bank,
pouring water over her head with a gourd, when the reptile crawled
from behind a log, where it had been lying, and carried her off in its
mouth, though struck several heavy blows with a stick by the unfortunate
husband. The padre next morning declared war upon the alligators, and
had the Indians out with their harpoons and lances to destroy them.
They killed a number; and they thought it remarkable that the first they
killed should have parts of the woman yet undigested in its stomach. I
think it probable that a good many alligators had a bite.
The lake is a pretty and nearly circular sheet of water of two and
a half miles in diameter, and is twenty feet deep in the centre.
There were a great many water-fowl in it, but principally cranes and
cormorants.
Padre Flores, as usual gave us a room in his house, and seats at his
table. I admired a very old looking silver spoon that he had on the
table, and which Ijurra judged to be of the date of Ferdinand and
Isabella, from the armed figures and lion's head upon the handle;
whereupon the padre, with the courtesy that belongs to his race,
insisted upon my accepting it. I was glad to have it in my power to
acknowledge the civility by pressing upon the padre a set of tumblers
neatly put up in a morocco case, which had been given me by R. E.
Johnson, first lieutenant of the Vandalia.
After dark he proposed that we should go out and see some of the
incantations of the Indians for the cure of the sick. We heard music at
a distance, and approached a large house whence it proceeded, in which
the padre said there was almost always some one sick. We listened at the
door, which was closed. There seemed to be a number of persons singing
inside. I was almost enchanted myself. I never heard such tones, and
think that even instrumental music could not be made to equal them.
I have frequently been astonished at the power of the Indians to mock
animals; but I had heard nothing like this before. The tones were so
low, so faint, so guttural, and at the same time so sweet and clear,
that I could scarcely believe they came from human throats; and they
seemed fitting sounds in which to address spirits of another world.
Some one appearing to approach the door, the priest and I fled; for,
though we were mean enough to listen at a man's door, we were ashamed to
be caught at it; but hearing nothing further we returned, and Ijurra,
with his usual audacity, pushed open the door and proposed to enter.
The noise we made in opening the door caused a hasty retreat of some
persons, which we could hear and partly see; and when we entered, we
found but two Indians—an old man and a young one—sitting on the floor by
a little heap of flaming copal, engaged in chewing tobacco and spitting
in an earthern pot before them. The young man turned his face to the
wall with a sullen look, and although the old man smiled when he was
patted on the head and desired to proceed with his music, yet it was
with a smile that had no mirth or satisfaction in it, and that showed
plainly that he was annoyed, and would have expressed his annoyance had
he dared.
The hut was a large one, and appeared larger in the gloom. There was a
light burning in the farther end of it, which looked to be a mile off;
Ijurra strode the distance and found it to be just twenty-four paces.
There were a number of hammocks slung one above the other between the
posts that supported the roof, and all seemed occupied. In one corner of
the house was built a small partition of cane, in which I understood was
confined a young girl, who was probably looking at us with curious eyes,
but whom we could not see. I had been told before that it was the custom
among most of the Indians of the Montãna to shut up a girl when she
entered into the period of womanhood, until the family could raise the
means for a feast, when every body is invited; all hands get drunk; and
the maiden is produced with much ceremony, and declared a woman of the
tribe, whose hand may be sought in marriage. The confinements sometimes
last several months; for the Indians do not hurry themselves in making
their preparations, but are ready when the yuccas are gathered, the
masato made, and there is a sufficient quantity of dried monkey in the
house; so that it sometimes happens, when the poor girl is brought out
that she is nearly white. It is said that she frequently conceals her
situation from her family, preferring a sound beating, when time betrays
her, to the dreary imprisonment.
_December 1._—I lost my beautiful and valued chiriclis, which died of
the cold; it was put to bed as usual under the wash-basin, but the basin
was not put under the armayari, its usual place, and it rained heavily
all night. I was surprised at the delicacy of feeling shown by my Indian
boatmen on the occasion; they knew how much I was attached to the bird,
and, instead of tossing the carcass overboard, as they would have done
with that of any other animal that I had, one of them brought it into
my room before I was awake, and laid it decently, and with care, on
a table at my bed-side. I felt the loss very sensibly—first, because
it was a present from good Father Calvo, upon whose head and shoulder
I had so often seen it perched; and, secondly, on account of the bird
itself. It was beautiful, gentle, and affectionate; and so gallant that
I called it my Mohawk chief; I have seen it take the food, unresisted,
out of the mouths of the parrots and macaws many times its size, by the
mere reputation of its valor; and it waged many a desperate battle with
the monkeys. Its triumphant song when it had vanquished an adversary
was most amusing. It was very pleasant, as the cool of night came on,
to find it with beak and claws, climbing up the leg of my trousers
until it arrived at the opening of my shirt and to hear its low note of
satisfaction as it entered and stowed itself snugly away in my armpit.
It was as sensible of caresses, and as jealous, as a favorite; and I
could never notice my little Pinshi monkey in its sight that it did not
fly at it and drive it off.
This bird is the _psit melanocephalus_ of Linneus. It is about the size
of a robin; has black legs, yellow thighs, a spotted white breast,
orange neck and head, and a brilliant green back and wings. There
is another species of the same bird in Brazil. It is there called
"periquito," and differs from this in having the feathers on the top of
the head black, so as to have the appearance of wearing a cowl. Enrique
Antonii, an Italian resident at Barra, gave me one of this species,
which was even more docile and affectionate than the present of Father
Calvo; but, to my infinite regret, he flew away from me at Pará.
I noticed growing about the houses of the village a couple of
shrubs, six or eight feet high, called, respectively, _yanapanga_ and
_pucapanga_. From the leaves of the first is made a black dye, and from
those of the second a very rich scarlet. I surmised that a dye, like the
indigo of commerce, though of course of different color, might be made
of these leaves; and when I arrived in Brazil, I found that the Indians
there were in the habit of making a scarlet powder of the pucapanga,
called carajurú, quite equal, in brilliancy of color, to the dye of the
cochineal. I believe that efforts have been made to introduce this dye
into commerce, and I do not know why they have failed. I brought home
a specimen.
Two brothers of Father Flores were quite sick with a "tertiana," taken
in gathering sarsaparilla up on the Napo. This is an intermittent fever
of a malignant type. The patient becomes emaciated and yellow, and
the spleen swells. I saw several cases as I came down the Marañon, but
all were contracted on the tributaries. I saw or heard of no case that
originated upon the main trunk.
_December 2._—Much rain during the night. Sailed from Caballococha at
half past 2 p. m. Ijurra liked the appearance of things so much at this
place that he determined, when he should leave me, to return to it and
clear land for a plantation, which he has since done.
I lost my sounding-lead soon after starting, and had no soundings to
Loreto, where we arrived at half-past 7 p. m., (twenty miles.) The river
is much divided and broken up by islands, some of them small, and with
sand-beaches. I believe they change their shape and size with every
considerable rise of the river.
Loreto is situated on an eminence on the left bank, having the large
island of _Cacao_ in front. The river is three-fourths of a mile wide,
and has one hundred and two feet of depth in mid-stream, with three
miles the hour of current. The soil is a light-colored, tenacious
clay, which, in the time of the rains, makes walking almost impossible,
particularly as there are a number of cattle and hogs running about the
village and trampling the clay into mire.
There are three mercantile houses in Loreto, all owned by Portuguese.
They do a business of about ten thousand dollars a year—that is, that
value in goods, from above and below, passes through their hands. They
tell me that they sell the goods from below at about twenty per cent.
on Pará prices, which of course I did not believe. _Senhor Saintem_,
the principal trader, told me that the business above was very mean;
that there was not a capitalist in Moyobamba able or willing to buy
one thousand dollars' worth of goods; and that they pay for their
articles of merchandise from below almost altogether in straw-hats, as
the Tarapoto people do in tocuyo. I saw a schooner-rigged boat lying
along-side the bank. She was about forty feet long and seven broad;
was built in Coari, and sold here for two hundred dollars, silver. The
houses at Loreto are better built, and better furnished, than those of
the towns on the river above. We are approaching civilization.
The population of Loreto is two hundred and fifty, made up of
Brazilians, mulattoes, negroes, and a few Ticunas Indians. It is the
frontier post of Peru. There are a few miles of neutral territory
between it and Tabatinga, the frontier of Brazil.
_December 4._—We left Loreto at half past 6 a. m., with a cold wind from
the northward and eastward, and rain. Thermometer, 76°. It seems strange
to call the weather cold with the thermometer at 76°; but I really was
very uncomfortable with it, and the monkeys seemed nearly frozen.
I estimate the length of the neutral territory, by the windings of the
river, at twenty miles.
Since I purchased a boat at Nauta I had worn an American flag over
it. I had been told that I probably would not be allowed to wear it in
the waters of Brazil. But when the boat was descried at Tabatinga, the
Brazilian flag was hoisted at that place; and when I landed, which I did
dressed in uniform, I was received by the commandant, also in uniform,
to whom I immediately presented my Brazilian passport, of which the
following is a translation:
[SEAL OF THE LEGATION.]
I, Sergio Teixeira de Macedo, of the Council of his Majesty,
the Emperor of Brazil, his Envoy Extraordinary and Minister
Plenipotentiary near the United States of America, Officer of
the Imperial Order of the Rose, Grand Cross of that of Christ,
and _Commendador_ of various Foreign Orders, &c., &c.:
Make known to all who shall see this passport, that _William
L. Herndon_, lieutenant of the navy of the United States, and
_Lardner Gibbon_, passed midshipman of the same, prosecute a
voyage for the purpose of making geographical and scientific
explorations from the republic of Peru, by the river Amazon
and adjacent parts, to its mouth; and I charge all the
authorities, civil, military, and policial, of the empire,
through whose districts they may have occasion to pass, that
they place no obstacle in the way, as well of them as of
the _persons of their company_; but rather that they shall
lend them all the facilities they may need, for the better
prosecution of their enterprise.
For which purpose I have caused to be issued this passport,
which I sign and seal with the seal of my arms.
IMPERIAL LEGATION OF BRAZIL, IN WASHINGTON,
_February 27, 1851_.
[SEAL.] SERGIO TEIXEIRA DE MACEDO.
By order of his Excellency:
ANTO. ZE DUARDE GONDIM,
_Secretary of Legation_.
As soon as my rank was ascertained, (which appeared to be that of a
captain in the Brazilian army,) I was saluted with seven guns. The
commandant used much stately ceremony towards me, but never left me a
moment to myself until he saw me safely in bed on board my boat. I did
not know, at first, whether this was polite attention or a watch upon
me; but I think it was the latter, for, upon my giving him the slip, and
walking over towards the old fort, he joined me within five minutes; and
when we returned to his house he brought a dictionary, and, pointing
with a cunning expression to the verb _traçar_, (to draw,) asked me
to read it. I did so, and handed the book back to him, when he pointed
out to me the verb _delinhar_. I was a little fretted, for I thought he
might as well ask me at once, and told him that I had no intention of
making any drawings whatever, and had merely intended to take a walk. He
treated me with great civility, and entertained me at his table, giving
me roast-beef, which was a great treat.
It was quite pleasant, after coming from the Peruvian villages, which
are all nearly hidden in the woods, to see that Tabatinga had the forest
cleared away from about it, for a space of forty or fifty acres; was
covered with green grass; and had a grove of orange-trees in its midst,
though they were now old and past bearing. There are few houses to be
seen, for those of the Ticunas are still in the woods. Those that are
visible are the soldiers' quarters, and the residences of a few whites
that live here—white, however, in contradistinction to the Indian; for
I think the only pure white man in the place was a Frenchman, who has
resided a long time in Brazil, and has a large Brazilian family. The
post is garrisoned by twenty soldiers, commanded by _O Illustrissimo
Senhor Tenente José Virisimo dos Santos Lima_, a cadet, a sergeant,
and a corporal. The population of Tabatinga is about two hundred;
mostly Indians of the Ticuna tribe. It is well situated for a frontier
post, having all the river in front, only about half a mile wide, and
commanded from the fort by the longest range of cannon-shot. The fort
is at present in ruins, and the artillery consists of two long brass
twelve-pounder field-guns.
I did not hoist my flag again, and the commandant seemed pleased. He
said that it might give offence down the river, and told me that Count
Castelnau, who had passed here some years before, borrowed a Brazilian
flag from him and wore that. He also earnestly insisted that I should
take his boat in lieu of my own, which he said was not large enough for
the navigation of the lower part of the Amazon. I declined for a long
time; but finding that he was very earnest about it, and embarrassed
between his desire to comply with the request of the Brazilian minister
at Washington, contained in my passport—"that Brazilian authorities
should facilitate me in my voyage, and put no obstacle in my way"—and
the requirements of the law of the empire forbidding foreign vessels to
navigate its interior waters, I accepted his proposition, and exchanged
boats; thus enabling him to say, in a frontier passport which he issued
to me, that I was descending the river in Brazilian vessels.
He desired me to leave his boat at Barra, telling me he had no doubt
but that the government authorities there would furnish me with a better
one. I told him very plainly that I had doubts of that, and that I might
have to take his boat on to Pará; which I finally did, and placed it
in the hands of his correspondent at that place. I was correct in my
doubts; for, so far from the government authorities at Barra having
a boat to place at my disposal, they borrowed mine and sent it up
the river for a load of wood for building purposes. The commandant at
Tabatinga, I was told, compelled the circus company that preceded me to
abandon their Peruvian-built raft and construct another of the wood of
the Brazilian forests.
There is nothing cultivated at Tabatinga except a little sugar cane
to make molasses and rum, for home consumption. I was told that
Castelnau found here a fly that answered perfectly all the purposes
of cantharides, blistering the skin even more rapidly. I heard that he
also found the same fly at Egas, lower down. Senhor Lima instituted a
search for some for me, but there were none to be had at this season.
He showed me an oblong, nut-shaped fruit, growing in clusters at the
base of a lily-like plant, called _pacova catinga_, the seed of which
was covered with a thick pulp, which, when scraped off and pressed,
gave a very beautiful dark-purple dye. This, touched with lime juice,
changed to a rich carmine. He tells me that the trade of the river is
increasing very fast; that in 1849 scarce one thousand dollars' worth
of goods passed up; in 1850, two thousand five hundred dollars; and this
year, six thousand dollars.
_December 5._—We were employed in fitting up the new boat, to which
the commandant gave his personal attention. I asked him to give me some
more peons. He said, "Certainly;" sent out a guard of soldiers; pressed
five Tucunas, and put them in the guard house till I was ready to start;
when they were marched down to the boat, and a negro soldier sent along
to take charge of them. He gave me all the beasts and birds he had, a
demijohn of red wine, salt fish, and farinha for my men, and in short
loaded me with kindness and civility. I had already parted with all
the personal "traps" that I thought would be valuable and acceptable to
my friends on the route, and could only make a show of acknowledgment
by giving him, in return, a dozen masses of tobacco—an article which
happened at this time to be scarce and valuable.
_December 6._—We embarked at half-past 1 p. m., accompanied by the
commandant, the cadet, and the Frenchman, _Jeronymo Fort_, who had
been kind enough to place his house at Egas at my disposal. Ijurra
had privately got all the guns and pistols ready, and we received the
commandant with a salute of, I should think, at least one hundred
guns; for Ijurra did not leave off shooting for half an hour. They
dropped down the river with us till 5 p. m., when, taking a parting cup
(literally tea-cup) of the commandant's present to the health of his
Majesty the Emperor, we embraced and parted. I have always remembered
with pleasure my intercourse with the Commandante Lima.
We passed the end of the island of _Aramasa_, which fronts the mouth
of the river Yavari, at 6, and camped on the right bank of the river at
half-past 7.
From a chart in the possession of M. Castelnau, and in the correctness
of which he places confidence, it appears that the Yavari river has a
distance from its mouth upwards of two hundred and seventy miles, and
a course nearly east and west. At this point it bifurcates. The most
western branch, which runs E. N. E., is called the Yavarisinho, and is
a small and unimportant river. The eastern branch, called _Jacarana_,
runs N. E. The authors of the chart (whom M. Castelnau thinks to
be Portuguese commissioners, charged with the establishment of the
boundaries) ascended the Yavari and Jacarana two hundred and ten miles
in a straight line. But M. Castelnau says that this river is more than
ordinarily tortuous, and estimates their ascent, by its sinuosities, at
five hundred and twenty five miles.
A small river, called Tucuby, empties into the Yavari at forty-five
miles from its mouth, and on the eastern side. A hundred and fifty miles
further up enters a considerable river, called the Curuzá, also from
the east. M. Castelnau thinks, however, from report, that the Curuzá is
not navigable upwards more than ninety miles. Sugar-cane is sometimes
seen floating on the water of the Jacarana, which indicates that its
upper parts are inhabited by people who have communication, more or less
direct, with white men. (Castelnau, vol. 5, page 52.)
_December 7._—The river now has lost its name of Marañon, and, since the
junction of the Yavari, is called _Solimoens_. It is here a mile and a
half wide, sixty-six feet deep in the middle, and has a current of two
miles and three quarters per hour. The small boat in which we carry our
animals did not stop with us last night, but passed on without being
noticed. She had all our fowls and turtles; so that our breakfast this
morning consisted of boiled rice. We drifted with the tide all night,
stopping for an hour in consequence of a severe squall of wind and rain
from the eastward.
_December 8._—Rainy morning. We arrived at _San Paulo_ at 10 a. m. This
village is on a hill two or three hundred feet above the present level
of the river—the highest situation I have yet seen. The ascent to the
town is very difficult and tedious, particularly after a rain, the soil
being of white clay. On the top of this hill is a moist, grassy plain,
which does not extend far back. The site is said not to be healthy, on
account of swamps back of it. The population is three hundred and fifty,
made up of thirty whites, and the rest Tucunas and _Juries_ Indians.
The commandant is the Lieutenant Don "José Patricio de Santa Ana." He
gave us a good breakfast and some statistics. The yearly exports of
San Paulo are eight thousand pounds of sarsaparilla, worth one thousand
dollars; four hundred and fifty pots of manteca, or oil made from turtle
eggs, worth five hundred and fifty dollars; and three thousand two
hundred pounds of cocoa, worth sixty-four dollars. These are all sent
to Egas. Common English prints sell for thirty cents the covado, (about
three-fourths of a yard,) and coarse, strong cotton cloth, (generally
American,) for thirty-seven and a half cents the vara, (three inches
less than a yard.) We left San Paulo at half-past 3 p. m., and drifted
with the current all night. Distance from Tabatinga to San Paulo,
ninety-five miles.
_December 9._—At half-past 8 a. m. we arrived at Maturá, a settlement
of four or five huts, (with only one occupied,) on a muddy bank. Its
distance from San Paulo is fifty miles. The shores of the river are
generally low, though there are reaches where its banks are forty or
fifty feet high, commonly of white or red clay. There is much colored
earth on the banks of the river—red, yellow, and white—which those
people who have taste make use of to plaster the inside of their houses.
The banks are continually falling into the stream, sometimes in very
large masses, carrying trees along with them, and forming one of the
dangers and impediments to upward navigation where the boats have to
keep close in shore to avoid the current.
We passed through a strait, between two islands, where the river was
not more than eighty yards wide. It presented a singular contrast to the
main river, to which we had become so much accustomed that this looked
like a rivulet. It had forty eight feet depth, and two and a quarter
miles current.
At half-past four we entered the mouth of the Iça, or Putumayo, fifteen
miles from Maturá. This is a fine-looking river, half a mile broad
at the mouth, and opening into an estuary (formed by the left bank of
the Amazon and islands on the right hand) of a mile in width. We found
one hundred and thirty-eight feet in the middle of the mouth, and a
current of two miles and three-quarters an hour. The water is clearer
than that of the Amazon. A man at _Tunantins_, who had navigated this
river a good deal, told me that one might ascend in a canoe for three
and a half months, and that the current was so rapid that the same
distance might be run down in fifteen days. This I think incredible;
but there is no doubt that the Iça is a very long and very rapid river.
He described it as shallow after two months of navigation upwards, with
large sand-beaches, and many small streams emptying into it, on which
is found much sarsaparilla. Many slaves of the Brazilians escape by way
of this river into New Grenada.
San Antonio is a village about two miles below the mouth of the Iça. It
is a collection of four or five houses of Brazilians, and a few Indian
huts. The people seemed mad for tobacco, and begged me earnestly to sell
them some. I told them I would not sell for money, but I was willing
to exchange for things to eat, or for rare birds and beasts. They
ransacked the town, but could only raise five fowls, half a dozen eggs,
two small turtles, and three bunches of plantains. They had no animals
but such as I already had, and I only bought a macaw and a "pavoncito,"
or little peacock. The little tobacco I gave for these things, however,
was not enough to give everybody a smoke, and they implored me to sell
them some for money. They came to the canoe after night, and showed so
strong a desire to have it that I feared they would rob me. Finding me
inexorable, they went off abusing me, which excited the wrath of Ijurra
to a high pitch. Our stock of tobacco, which we had bought in Nauta, was
now very much reduced. We had used it, during our voyage on the Ucayali,
to purchase food and curiosities, and to give to the peons, who were not
satisfied or contented unless they had an occasional smoke. We also had
been liberal with it to governors and curates, who had been civil to
us; and now we had barely enough for our own use to last us to Barra.
I gave twenty-five cents the mass for it in Nauta, though the "Paraguá"
cheated me, and should only have charged me twelve and a half. We could
have sold it all the way to Barra for thirty-seven and a half, and fifty
cents.
_December 10._—Between San Antonio and Tunantins we met the governor of
San Antonio, a military-looking white man, returning with his wife and
children from a visit to Tunantins. I showed him my passport, which he
asked for, and we interchanged civilities and presents; he giving me a
"chiriclis," like the one I lost at Caballo-cocha, and water-melons; and
I making him a present of tobacco and a tinder-box. The species of bird
he gave me is called, in Brazil, _Marianita_. This one took a singular
disease by which it lost the use of its legs—hopped about for some days
on the knee-joints, with the leg and foot turned upwards in front, and
then died. At twenty miles from San Antonio we entered the mouth of
the Tunantins river. It is about fifty yards broad, and seems deep,
with a considerable current. The town is prettily situated on a slight
green eminence on the left bank, about half a mile from the mouth. The
population is said to be between two and three hundred, though I would
not suppose it to be near as much. It is composed of the tribes of
Cayshanas and Juries, and about twenty-five whites.
One sees very few Indians in the Portuguese villages. They seem to live
apart, and in the woods; and are, I think, gradually disappearing before
the advance of civilization. They are used as beasts of burden, and
are thought no further of. At 2 p. m. we left Tunantins. The river has
eighteen, twenty-four, and thirty feet down to its entrance into the
Amazon, where it forms a bar of sand, stretching some hundreds of yards
out and downwards, on which is only six feet of water.
_December 11._—We stopped at a _factoria_ on the left bank, sixty-five
miles from Tunantins, where people were making manteiga. The effect of
"mirage," was here very remarkable. When within a mile or two of the
factoria, I thought I saw quite a large town, with houses of two or
three stories, built of stone and brick, with large heaps of white stone
lying about in several places. There was a vessel lying off the town
that I was satisfied was a large brig-of war; but upon drawing near, my
three-story houses dwindled to the smallest palm ranchos; my heaps of
building stones to piles of egg-shells; and my man-of-war to a schooner
of thirty tons.
The season for making manteiga on the Amazon generally ends by the first
of November; but the rise of the river this year has been unusually late
and small. The people are still collecting the eggs, though they all
have young turtles in them.
A commandant, with soldiers, is appointed every year by some provincial
or municipal authority to take care of the beaches, prevent disorder,
and administer justice.
Sentinels are placed at the beginning of August, when the turtles
commence depositing their eggs, and are withdrawn when the beach is
exhausted. They see that no one wantonly interferes with the turtles,
or destroys the eggs. Those engaged in the making of manteiga pay a
capitation tax of twelve and a half cents duty to the government.
The process of making it is very disgusting. The eggs, though they be
rotten and offensive, are collected, thrown into a canoe, and trodden to
a mass with the feet. The shells and young turtles are thrown out. Water
is poured on, and the residue is left to stand in the sun for several
days. The oil rises to the top; is skimmed off and boiled in large
copper boilers. It is then put in earthern pots of about forty-five
pounds weight. Each pot of oil is worth on the beach one dollar and
thirty cents, and in Pará usually sells at from two and a half to three
dollars.
A turtle averages eighty eggs; forty turtles will give a pot.
Twenty-five men will make two hundred pots in twelve days. The beaches
of the Amazon and tributaries yield from five to six thousand pots
annually. The empty pot costs twelve and a half cents in Pará. Prolific
as they are, I think the turtle is even now diminishing in number on the
Amazon. Vast numbers of the young are eaten by the Indians, who take
them by the time they are able to crawl, and when they do not measure
more than an inch in diameter; boil them, and eat them as a delicacy.
One Indian will devour two dozen of these three or four times a day.
The birds also pick up a great number of them as they crawl from their
nest to the water; and I imagine the fish, too, make them pay toll as
they pass. I heard complaints of the growing scarcity, both of fish and
manteiga, as I came down the river.
This factoria is a small one, and will give but two or three hundred
pots. One requires a good stomach to be able to eat his breakfast at
one of these places. The stench is almost intolerable; the beach is
covered with greedy and disgusting-looking buzzards, and the surface of
the water dotted with the humps of the deadly alligator.
By visiting the factoria, I missed the mouth of the Jutay, which is
on the other side. I was misled by Smyth's map. He places the island
of Mapaná some distance above the mouth of the Jutay, and represents
the Amazon as clear of islands where that river enters. A large island
commences just abreast the factoria, which the people then told me was
called Invira, though they did not seem certain of this. They told me
that in rounding the lower end of that island I would find myself at the
mouth of the Jutay. This was not so, for, when I doubled the point, I
was two or three miles below it. I saw where it emptied into the Amazon;
but both myself and people were too tired to turn back and examine it.
The Indians of the Jutay are Maraguas, (christianized Indians,) who
inhabit the banks at a distance of two days up. (Their houses are
built of wood and plastered, and they show a taste and fondness for
mechanics.) Maragua-Catuquinas, of whom a few are baptized, two days
further up; and Catuquinas Infidels, four days still further.
The products of the river are one hundred and fifty arrobas of
sarsaparilla yearly, one hundred pots of manteiga, and a great quantity
of farinha. In the last four years, five men of Egas have been killed
by the Indians of the Jutay. My informant is Senhor Batalha, a merchant
at Egas. M. Castelnau estimates, from the report of traders, that this
river is navigable upward for about five hundred and forty miles, and
that its sources are not far from those of the Yavari. From Tunantins
to the mouth of the Jutay is seventy-five miles.
I was surprised to find in this part of the river between Tunantins and
Fonteboa but a mile and a quarter current per hour. I attributed it to
bad measurement—from having only a two-pound weight as a lead; yet as
the line was not larger than ordinary twine, and was suffered to run
freely over the gunwale of the boat, without friction or impediment of
any kind, I can scarcely suppose that the lead dragged. The frequent
remark of both Ijurra and myself was "The river does not run." (_No
corre el rio._) Below Fonteboa, where I bought a four-pound lead, I
found the current at its usual velocity of two and a half miles. I think
that I have used up nearly all the four-pound weights on the river,
having lost at least half a dozen. My lines, generally made of chambira,
rot with the rain and sun, and break with little strain. We anchored
at 8 p. m. off a sandy beach, where there was another factoria, thirty
miles distant from the upper one.
The Ticunas whom I brought with me from Tabatinga are even more lazy
and careless than the Sarayaquinos. I fancied that it was because they
were forced into the service, and did not think that they would be paid;
so I gave each one, as a gratuity, a knife, a pair of scissors, and
a small mirror; but they were no better afterwards than before. Poor
fellows! they have been abused and maltreated so long that they are
now insensible even to kindness. The negro soldier who was sent along,
either as a pilot or to govern the Ticunas, or as a watch upon me, is
drunken and worthless. He knows nothing of the river, and I believe
steals my liquor.
_December 12._—There are evidently many newly-formed islands in the
river. We ran, all the morning, through narrow island passages; the
channels, in some places, not over forty yards wide, but of twenty
and thirty feet of depth. We passed another factoria on a point of an
island near the main river, with a schooner moored off; and stopped at a
quarter past six on the sandy point of a small island, where there were
mandioca and water-melons. I am surprised at the quality of the soil in
which this mandioca grows. To a casual observation it appears pure sand.
_December 13._—At 8 a. m. we entered a narrow arm of the river, sixty
miles from the mouth of the Jutay, that leads by Fonteboa. This canal
separates the island of "Cacao" (on which much cocoa grows wild) from
the main land. The caño is not more than twenty yards broad. The least
water I found was nine feet. Fonteboa is about eight miles from the
entrance of the canal. It is situated on a hill a quarter of a mile
within the mouth of the river of the same name that empties into the
canal. Smyth says that the town gets its name from the clearness of the
water of the river; but it is not so at this season. There is no current
in the river at the village, and the water was very nearly quite as
muddy as that of the Amazon.
The population of Fonteboa is two hundred and fifty. There are eighty
whites. We met several traders at this place bound up and down the
river. One, named Guerrero, an intelligent-looking person, from Obydos,
was going up with a cargo that I heard valued at twenty contos of
reis, (about ten thousand five hundred dollars.) This was manifestly an
exaggeration. His schooner, of some thirty-five tons burden, I think,
could not carry the value of that sum in the heavy and bulky articles
usually sent up the river. He had, however, a variety of articles. I
bought some red wine and rum for stores; and Ijurra bought very good
shoes and cotton stockings. This gentleman invited us to breakfast with
him. His plates and cups were of pewter, and he seemed well equipped for
travelling. He said that nearly all the cultivable land about Obydos,
Santarem, and Villa Nova was already occupied; that most of it was so
low and swampy that it was valueless; and that people would soon have
to come up here where the ground was high and rich. He was sixty-two
working days from Obydos, and expected to be thirty to Loreto.
Sailed at 3 p. m.; found but five feet of water where the river of
Fonteboa joins the caño. The distance by the caño to its outlet into
the main river is two miles. The banks below Fonteboa are quite high,
and of red and white clay. Stopped for the night at half past 6 p. m.
_December 14._ Started at half past 4 a. m. Misty morning. At ten
entered the mouth of the Juruá, thirty-six miles from Fonteboa. Its left
bank is very low, and covered with grass and shrub willows; the right
bank high and wooded. It has half a mile of width at the mouth; but, a
mile up, it seemed divided into two narrow channels by a large island.
The Amazon is a mile and a quarter wide where the Juruá enters; but
here is a large island in front, and the river is probably equally as
wide on the other side. We pulled half a mile up the stream. The water
was clearer, though more yellow, than that of the Amazon. In running
out the half mile that I had pulled up, which we did in mid-stream,
the soundings deepened, as fast as I could heave the lead, from thirty
six to seventy-eight feet. Just at the mouth they lessened again to
sixty-six. The current was a mile and three-quarters the hour. The
bottom was of white and black sand; temperature of the water 82°; the
same with the temperature of the air and with that of the water of the
Amazon.
The Indians of the Juruá, I was afterwards told by Senhor Batalha, are
_Arauas_ and _Catauxis_, who are met with at eight days' journey up.
Some of these are baptized Indians; but the Arauas are described as a
treacherous people, who frequently rob and murder the traders on the
river. Two months further up are the _Culinos_ and _Nawas_ Infidels.
Between these two was a nation called the _Canamaris_, but they have
been nearly entirely destroyed by the Arauas. It is almost impossible
to get an accurate idea of the number of the Indians; but I judge, from
what I have seen, and from the diversity of names of the tribes, that
this is not great. The production of the Juruá are sarza, manteiga,
copaiba, seringa, (India rubber,) cocoa, and farinha. At the mouth of a
creek (Igarapé) called _Menerua_, there are Brazil nuts. This year all
the expeditions to the Juruá were failures, on account of the hostility
of the Arauas.
M. Castelnau, in summing up the accounts of this river, which he had
from traders on it, supposes that it may be ascended about seven hundred
and eighty miles, or to near the twelfth degree of south latitude. A
man showed him a small medal that he had taken from an Indian on the
_Taruaca_, a tributary of the Juruá, which he recognised as a Spanish
quarter of a dollar. A short distance above the junction of the Taruaca,
the Juruá bifurcates. The principal arm, which comes from the left, has
its waters of a white color; and the Indians who dwell upon its branches
say that the whites have a village near its sources. (Castelnau, vol.
5, pp. 89, 90.)
M. Castelnau collected some very curious stories concerning the Indians
who dwell upon the banks of the Juruá. He says, (vol. 5, p. 105,) "I
cannot pass over in silence a very curious passage of Padre Noronha,
and which one is astonished to find in a work of so grave a character in
other respects. The Indians, _Cauamas_ and _Uginas_, (says the padre,)
live near the sources of the river. The first are of very short stature,
scarcely exceeding five palms, (about three and a half feet;) and the
last (of this there is no doubt) have tails, and are produced by a
mixture of Indians and _Coata_ monkeys. Whatever may be the cause of
this fact, I am led to give it credit for three reasons: first, because
there is no physical reason why men should not have tails; secondly,
because many Indians, whom I have interrogated regarding this thing,
have assured me of the fact, telling me that the tail was a palm and a
half long; and, thirdly, because the Reverend Father Friar José de Santa
Theresa Ribeiro, a Carmelite, and Curate of Castro de Avelaeñs, assured
me that he saw the same thing in an Indian who came from Japurá, and
who sent me the following attestation:
"'I, José de Santa Theresa Ribeiro, of the Order of our Lady of Mount
Carmel, Ancient Observance, &c., certify and swear, in my quality of
Priest, and on the Holy Evangelists, that, when I was a missionary in
the ancient village of Parauaù, where was afterwards built the village
of Noguera, I saw, in 1755, a man called Manuel da Silva, native of
Pernambuco, or Bahia, who came from the river Japurá with some Indians,
amongst whom was one—an Infidel brute—who the said Manuel declared to
me had a tail; and as I was unwilling to believe such an extraordinary
fact, he brought the Indian and caused him to strip, on pretence of
removing some turtles from a 'pen,' near which I stood to assure myself
of the truth. There I saw, without possibility of error, that the man
had a tail, of the thickness of a finger, and half a palm long, and
covered with a smooth and naked skin. The same Manuel assured me that
the Indian had told him that every month he cut his tail, because he
did not like to have it too long, and it grew very fast. I do not know
to what nation this man belonged, nor if all his tribe had a similar
tail; but I understood afterwards that there was a tailed nation upon
the banks of the Juruá; and I sign this act and seal it in affirmation
of the truth of all that it contains.
"ESTABLISHMENT OF CASTRO DE AVELAEÑS, _October 14, 1768_.
"FR. JOSE DE STA. THERESA RIBEIRO."
M. Baena (Corog, Pará) has thought proper to repeat these strange
assertions. "In this river," says he, speaking of the Juruá, (p. 487,)
"there are Indians, called Canamas, whose height does not exceed five
palms; and there are others, called Uginas, who have a tail of three or
four palms, (four palms and an inch, Portuguese, make nearly an English
yard,) according to the report of many persons. But I leave to every
one to put what faith he pleases in these assertions."
M. Castelnau says, after giving these relations, "I will add but a word.
Descending the Amazon, I saw one day, near Fonteboa, a black Coata of
enormous dimensions. He belonged to an Indian woman, to whom I offered
a large price, for the country, for the curious beast; but she refused
me with a burst of laughter. 'Your efforts are useless,' said an Indian
who was in the cabin; 'that is her husband.'"
These Coatas, of which I had several, are a large, black, pot-bellied
monkey. They average about two and a half feet of height, have a few
thin hairs on the top of their head, and look very like an old negro.
We breakfasted at the mouth of the river. After breakfast one of the
Ticunas from Tabatinga was directed by the soldier to take up one of the
macaws that was walking on the beach and put it in the boat preparatory
to a start. The man, in an angry and rude manner, took the bird up and
tossed it into the boat, to the manifest danger of injuring it. I was
standing in the larger boat close by, and saw his insolent manner. I
took up a paddle and beckoned him to come to me; but he walked sulkily
up the beach. I thought it a good time to see whether, in the event of
these surly fellows becoming mutinous, I could count upon my Sarayacu
people; so I directed two of them to bring the Ticuna to me. They
turned to obey, but slowly, and evidently unwillingly, when my quick and
passionate friend Ijurra sprang upon the Indian, and, taking him by the
collar, jerked him to where I was. I made great demonstrations with my
paddle, though without the slightest idea of striking him, (for I always
shunned, with the utmost care, the rendering myself amenable to any of
the tribunals or authorities of Brazil,) and abused him in English,
which I imagine answered quite as well as any other language but his
own would have done. I think this little "fracas" had a happy effect
upon all the Indians, and they improved in cheerfulness and willingness
to work afterwards. The Ticunas that I had with me, however, were far
the laziest and most worthless people that I had hitherto had anything
to do with. I believe that this is not characteristic of the tribe,
for they seemed well enough under Father Flores at Caballo-cocha, and
they have generally rather a good reputation among the whites on the
river. I imagine that the proximity of the garrison at Tabatinga has
not a good effect upon their manners and morals; but, however that may
be, these men were too lazy to help to cook the provisions; and when we
stopped to breakfast they generally seated themselves on the thwarts of
the boat, or on the sand of the beach, whilst the Sarayaquinos fetched
the wood and made the fire. They were ready enough to eat when the
breakfast was cooked. I couldn't stand this, when I observed that it was
a customary thing, and accordingly caused the provisions issued to be
divided between the two parties, and told my Ticuna friends, "No cook,
no eat." It would take many years of sagacious treatment on the part of
their rulers to civilize this people, if it be possible to do so at all.
_December 15._—We travelled till 11 p. m., for want of a beach to camp
on; the men disliking to sleep in the woods on account of snakes.
_December 16._—Finding that I was on the southern bank, and having an
opening between two islands abreast of me, I struck off to the eastward
for the mouth of the Japurá. We ran through island passages till we
reached it at 3 p. m., distant one hundred and five miles from the mouth
of the Juruá.
The Japurá has two mouths within a few hundred yards of each other. The
one to the westward is the largest, being about one hundred yards wide.
It is a pretty stream of clear, yellow water, with bold and abrupt,
though not high banks, (ten or fifteen feet). I pulled up about half a
mile, and in mid-stream found fifty-seven feet of water, which shoaled
to the mouth to forty two; the bottom soft mud to the touch; but the
arming of the lead brought up small quantities of black and white sand.
There was very little current—only three-fourths of a mile per hour. I
thought it might be affected by the rush of its greater neighbor, and
that the water so near the mouth was "back water" from the Amazon; but
the current was quite as great close to the mouth as it was half a mile
up. The temperature of the water, to my surprise, was 85°; that of the
Amazon, a quarter of an hour afterwards, was 81°. I had heard that, on
account of the gentleness of the current of the Japurá, a voyage of a
month up this river was equal in distance to two on the Iça. A month up
the Japurá reaches the first impediment to navigation, where the river
breaks through hills called "As Serras das Araras," or hills of the
macaws; and where the bed of the stream is choked with immense rocks,
which make it impassable even for a canoe. A gentleman at Egas told me
of an extraordinary blowing cave among these hills.
The Indians of the Japurá are called _Mirauas_, (a large tribe,)
_Curitus_, and _Macus_. The traveller reaches them in sixteen days from
the mouth. The Macus have no houses, but wander in the woods; infest
the river banks; and rob and kill when they can. (These are the fruits
of the old Brazilian system of hunting Indians to make slaves of them.)
The products of the Japurá are the same as those of the Juruá; and,
in addition, a little carajurú, a very brilliant scarlet dye, made of
the leaves of a bush called pucapanga in Peru. The Indians pack it in
little bags made of the inner bark of a tree, and sell at the rate of
twenty-five cents the pound. I am surprised that it has never found
its way into commerce. I think it of quite as brilliant and beautiful
a color as cochineal.
I judge the width of the Amazon, opposite the mouth of the Japurá, to
be four or five miles. It is separated into several channels by two or
three islands. We camped at half past 6 p. m., on an island where there
was a hut and a patch of mandioc and Indian corn, but no people. We
had a clear night, (with the exception of a low belt of stratus clouds
around the horizon,) the first we have seen for more than a week.
_December 17._—Started at 4 a. m. It was too dark to see the upper
point of an island between us and the southern shore till we had passed
it; so that we had to pull up for an hour against the current, so as
to pass the head of this island, and not fall below Egas. At half-past
eight we entered a narrow channel between a small island and the right
bank, which conducted us into the river of Teffé, about a mile inside
of its mouth. The river at this point is one hundred and eighty yards
broad; water clear and apparently deep. Just below Egas, where we
arrived at half-past ten, it expands into a lake; or, rather, the lake
here contracts into the river. The town is situated on a low point
that stretches out into the lake, and has a harbor on each side of it.
The point rises into a regular slope, covered with grass, to the woods
behind. The lake is shallow, and is sometimes, with the exception of two
or three channels, which have always six or eight feet of water in them,
entirely dry from Egas to Nogueyra, a small village on the opposite
side.
On landing we showed our passports to the _sub-delegado_, an officer of
the general government who has charge of the police of the district, and
to the military commandant, and forthwith inducted ourselves into the
house of M. Fort, our French friend of Tabatinga, who had placed it at
our disposal.