TO THE ESSEQUIBO—BARTICA GROVE—THE PENAL SETTLEMENT—CUYUNI
RIVER—EL DORADO—RALEIGH’S CREDULITY—TENT BOATS—CAMP IN
SHED—CARIA ISLAND—AN ARCHIPELAGO—KOSTERBROKE FALLS—ASCENT OF
CATARACTS—WARIMAMBO RAPIDS—MORA—A NEW YEAST.
Early on the morning of the 23rd of February the steamer, which was to
take me part of the way to the settlement, started from Georgetown. The
wharf—or stelling, as the wooden pier is called—presented an animated
scene as the fruit-boats were being unloaded, and the vast quantities of
pine-apples and mangoes, especially of the latter, were surprising; some
of the canoes were actually overflowing with the golden fruit, and were
weighed down to the water’s edge. Mangoes form no inconsiderable item in
the food of the blacks of Demerara.
We were soon clear of the native and foreign craft, quitted the Demerara
river and proceeded in a north-westerly direction towards the Essequibo.
To the mouth of that river from Georgetown is only about five and twenty
miles, and so in spite of one or two delays at different landing-places
on the west coast, it was not long before we found ourselves in a vast
island-dotted expanse that suggested a lake rather than a river. From
one side of the mainland to the other, the embouchure of the Essequibo is
seventeen or eighteen miles in width, and is divided into four separate
channels by islets and sandy shoals.
At Wahenaam, one of the largest of these islands, we changed steamers,
as from that point a smaller one alone runs up to the settlement, fifty
miles further on. Then we were fairly in the Essequibo River, whose
breadth here is about eight miles. Of the mainland, we could only see
now and then the fringing line of courida[35] bushes and the chimneys
belonging to the plantations, but the island scenery was pretty and
varying. In places the luxuriant vegetation had been cleared and plantain
farms were seen extending far back into the surrounding bush, with a
few tumble-down but picturesque huts in the foreground. These farms are
chiefly owned by Portuguese, who make considerable profit out of them.
Here and there in the open spaces were ovens for burning charcoal, and
their proprietors—Chinese—were busily employed cutting down trees or
planting rice and other vegetable products.
Mingled with the bamboos and larger trees were several varieties of
palms, of which the most prominent were the Mauritias—Ite—easily
recognised by the bunches of red fruit, and the dead drooping fronds
which give an untidy aspect to the useful tree. There were also specimens
of the jagua and numberless fan palms,[36] whose leaves furnish a sort of
wax, but the most graceful of all were the manicoles, very straight and
slim, and rising to a height of about forty feet.
At last, after some hours, the monotonous green of the land scenery
was broken by a narrow promontory, on which stands the small village of
Bartica Grove, which is situated at the junction of the Essequibo and the
Mazaruni. This little settlement is a favourite resort of the Indians
from the interior, who come down to trade with the few Portuguese who
live there. Besides the latter there are but few whites, the greater
number of inhabitants being river-men, who, as their name implies, pass
their lives in navigating the waters, their principal occupation being
in carrying timber from the various wood-cutting locations. They are a
strange race, a mixture of Dutch, Indian, and negro descent, and though
skilful and hard-working in their own vocation, yet possess in a marked
degree, it is said, the attributes of the half-breed, _i.e._, all the
vices of civilization and none of the virtues of the savage.
Leaving the Grove on our left, we proceeded up the Mazaruni, and in
half-an-hour arrived at the settlement. The view here is fresh and
charming. On land the rising ground is planted with mango, palms, and
shade trees, behind which are seen the neat prison buildings—for it
is a Penal Settlement—and the houses of the Superintendent and other
officers. Across the river some houses are situated on the bank, and also
on the cleared sloping forest land, which is diversified with pasture
and huge granite boulders. Below, at Bartica Grove, the mighty stream of
the Essequibo is joined by that of the Mazaruni, and higher up there is
another meeting of the waters, as there the Mazaruni is joined by the
magnificent Cuyuni, whose mouth is nearly a mile in width.
About thirty miles up the Cuyuni is an abandoned gold mine, the sole
spot in Sir Walter Raleigh’s “El Dorado” where gold has up to the
present been discovered, and even here in such small quantities that the
working of it did not pay. Since the days of Raleigh, Guiana has earned
a fictitious fame, chiefly through the extraordinary stories set abroad
by that adventurer. Historians differ regarding Sir Walter’s own belief
in the existence of “El Dorado,” but it seems probable from his writings
that he was capable of believing anything. For instance, he says, “A
similar people were said to live in Guiana, on the banks of the Caora;
this may be thought a fable, yet for my own part I am resolved it is
true, because every child in the province of Arromaia affirms all the
same; they are called Ewaipanomi, and are reported to have their eyes in
their shoulders and their mouths in the middle of their breasts, and that
a long train of hair groweth backwards between the shoulders.” Again, in
speaking of the supposed city of El Dorado, he says that, “for greatness,
riches, and the excellent seat, it far exceeded any city in the world,
and founded on an inland sea two hundred leagues long, like unto the Mare
Caspium.”
The historian Hume says: “So ridiculous are the tales which he tells of
the Inca’s chimerical empire in the midst of Guiana; the rich city of El
Dorado or Manoa, two days journey in length, and shining with gold and
silver; the old Peruvian prophecies in favour of the English, who, he
says, were expressly named as the deliverers of that country long before
any European had even touched there; the Amazons, or republic of women;
and in general, the vast and incredible riches which he saw on that
continent, where nobody has yet found any treasures!”
As regards the Amazons and the Ewaipanomi, there are plenty of civilized
Indians who still assert the existence of a wonderful race of beings
who inhabit certain portions of Upper Guiana, which as yet have been
untrodden by white men. Concerning the golden city on the inland sea, it
is not improbable that the origin of the romance arose from the fact that
the low alluvial lands around Lake Parima were inundated every year to
such an extent that the natives navigated the forests in their canoes.
The chief of a certain tribe who inhabited this locality, is said to have
indulged in the luxury of a golden shower-bath every morning, that is, he
powdered himself with a glittering but valueless substance called golden
sand, which is merely iron ore in minute particles. Hence his cognomen,
El Dorado, or the Golden Man. His palace was found to be a natural
grotto, the walls of which were formed of micaceous rock that shone with
a yellow metallic glitter. It may be that the glittering mica, derived
from the granite which is prevalent in Guiana, deluded Raleigh into the
belief that it was gold, for he says, when speaking of a ledge of “white
sparre or flint,” that he endeavoured to break it by all the means that
he could, “because there appeared on the outside some small grains of
gold ... of which kind of white stone (wherein gold is engendered), we
saw divers hills in every part of Guiana wherein we travelled.”
To return to the settlement. Immediately on landing I was met by McTurk,
who, in spite of the day being far advanced, wisely determined to start
at once; and so, throwing aside those trammels of civilization, coat,
collar, and waistcoat, we stepped into our boats and were ready for
our trip of two or three months into the interior. Two ordinary-sized
boats—or bateaus, as they are called—and a strong well-built canoe
composed the fleet. In colour they had been respectively painted red,
white, and blue, and each was named after a certain species of frog;
the largest was the “Bura-buraloo,” the next was the “Adaba,” and
the canoe was the “Akoora.” The crew consisted of fifteen civilized
Indians—Arawaak and Acawais—good and tried men, most of whom had been on
short expeditions with McTurk, and who therefore understood his ways and
were aware that when he said a thing he meant it, that faithfulness and
good conduct would be rewarded, and laziness and bad behaviour as surely
punished. They nearly all understood a little English, but they preferred
a sort of “pigeon” English peculiar to McTurk, and which always reminded
me of a stage Dutchman’s language. The strongest and most intelligent
Indian in each boat is the captain, who, seated in the stern, uses his
paddle to direct the course. Next to him in rank is the bowman, who has
to keep a sharp look out for rocks and shoals.
Each boat was laden with provisions,[37] which were limited as far as
possible to absolute necessaries, as after leaving the boats we knew that
the difficulties of transportation would be very great. In addition,
there was our own clothing—a very slender supply—guns, ammunition,
trading articles, pots and pans, &c., everything, certainly, reduced to
a minimum, but nevertheless, forming sufficiently heavy loads.
Before starting, I cast longing eyes at two or three luxurious
tent-boats, provided with awnings, lockers, and curtains, all of which
were denied us; but before many days I recognised the superiority of
our own, as the long drought had shallowed the river, and it would have
been impossible for the deep tent-boats to have ascended some of the
cataracts. Taking our seats in the centre of our respective boats, McTurk
gave the word, and in an hour the strong paddles of our crews had placed
a considerable distance between us and the settlement, and we were really
on the way to Roraima. At one time we feared that our start would prove
inauspicious, as the strong wind blowing up the river raised such waves
that once or twice we were almost swamped, but gradually we gained the
opposite coast, and under the lee of the land entered comparatively
smooth water.
Owing to the lateness of our departure we soon had to camp, and spying
an old shed near the water’s edge, we landed, slung up our hammocks, and
there passed the night. To a traveller, I know of no cheaper luxury than
a hammock. On a former long journey through the tropics I had burdened
myself with a folding bed, thinking from very slight experience that
to sleep in a hammock would be impossible. But now I discovered that
a well-slung hammock, in which you have placed yourself diagonally,
not parallel, so that your head and feet are too elevated, is a very
delightful place of rest. By day a pleasant lounge, by night a clean
bed even in dirty hovels, unscalable by insects, light and compact,
easily put up and easily taken down, a hammock becomes an indispensable
companion, especially dear when travelling in countries where even the
most necessary articles have to be limited. We could hardly have selected
a more likely spot for those pests of Guiana, namely, vampires and
jiggers. The former frequent the clearings around sheds and houses, and
in the dead of night when all are asleep—they never pay their visits as
long as even one person in a party is awake—they fasten on an exposed
toe or some part of the foot and cup the sleeper, who awakes faint and
exhausted. Horses and cattle suffer equally from their attacks, and
fowls frequently drop dead from their perches, their life blood drained
to the very last drop. As a provision against these unpleasant visitors
I had provided myself with a long double blanket, so that under no
circumstances could a forgetful toe exhibit itself outside its covering.
A jigger (_Pulex penetrans_), as everyone knows, is a toe-loving
creature, and makes its nest under the nails, and, if allowed, lays its
eggs. As they swarm in every deserted hut and in every old Indian shed,
and in sand, it is impossible to avoid them; morning and evening a strict
examination of the feet by a competent Indian is absolutely necessary
when travelling in the interior. In spite of great care and watchfulness
on our part a search was seldom unrewarded, but we never approached the
number once collected by Sir Robert Schomburgh, of whom it is related
that a negress once extracted eighty-three from his feet at one sitting.
But, notwithstanding jiggers and vampires, the nights on the Mazaruni
are always enjoyable because there are no mosquitoes; in many parts of
Guiana, especially on the Pomeroon River, these plagues are so bad that
cattle have been driven wild by them, and are always obliged to be shut
up at night in mosquito-proof sheds; there, also, a mosquito net is
invariably included in the agreement between master and labourer. Here we
were free from them, and a patent hammock mosquito netting that had been
given me by a kind friend in Georgetown was devoted to other uses.
Next morning we made an early start, and soon passed Coria island, on
which a Dutch fort once stood, and the last that we saw of civilization
was the little mission-house of St. Edward’s, picturesquely situated
on the opposite bank of the mainland. Above this point we entered that
labyrinth of islands which, together with the innumerable rapids and
cataracts, form the chief features of the Mazaruni River for nearly one
hundred miles. Only one of our crew had ever ascended the river before,
and, as he did not appear to remember much about it, we determined to
keep to the main channel, as being the safest, out of the numerous ones
into which it was divided. This was no easy matter, as, on account of
the lowness of the water, and the great breadth—between three and four
miles—of the river, it was often very difficult to decide which was the
main channel, and sometimes we found our passage barred by shallows and
had to return and seek another.
We ascended two rapids, and then came to the rather steep falls of
Kosterbroke. A sad interest is attached to this place, as it was here
that in 1863 seven young men lost their lives. A pleasure party,
consisting of visitors from Trinidad and others who had been engaged in
a cricket match at Georgetown, visited the settlement and ascended the
Mazaruni as far as these rapids; whilst descending them, the tent-boat
capsized and seven of its occupants were drowned. Report says that a
midshipman, who formed one of the party, was swept away and given up
for lost, but was discovered later on sitting on a rock in mid channel,
drying a five-pound note in the sun.
The ascent of these cataracts affords a very lively and exciting scene.
All hands, except the steersman, leave the boat, a long stout hawser
is fastened to her bow, and by sheer strength she is hauled up through
the rushing waters. Some of the crew wade by the side of the boat,
to keep her from the rocks, others swim or dive across from adjacent
points to where the best purchase can be secured, and the rest, holding
the rope, pull with might and main straight up the current. A charming
variety exists in these rapids; sometimes they may be ascended by taking
advantage of the different currents and paddling with great power
diagonally across the channel; others have short but steep falls, and
others again extend for a long distance in a series of steep inclines,
whilst the volume of pouring water in a few is so great that boats have
to be carried round them overland. At the Warimambo Rapids, which we
reached soon after passing Kosterbroke, we had to unload the boats and
make a portage of about two hundred yards. A lot of negro woodcutters,
who sat grinning at us on the rocky banks, informed us that it would be
impossible for us to haul the boat up those rapids, but our men worked
splendidly, and in about two hours we had loaded the boats and were off
again.
The river here presented an extraordinary appearance from its great
breadth and the innumerable rocks which cropped up in every direction.
Many of these rocks were covered with the pretty pink flower of some
water-plant. The islands and the low mainland were covered with virgin
forest, whose intense green was relieved at intervals by the blazing
crimson spikes of the kara-kara[38] or the various tinted canopies of
the giant moras. The mora[39] may be termed the oak of the tropical
forests of Guiana, as it far exceeds other trees in dimensions; its
lofty wide-spreading branches, with glossy foliage changing from purple
to red, add a distinctive charm to the scenery, but a deceptive one, as
frequently we would exclaim. “At last there is some rising ground,” which
on approach proved to be only two or three moras towering above the rest
of the forest trees. Besides the moras, we were continually passing many
varieties of the valuable timber with which Guiana is so plentifully
supplied. Now a green-heart[40] or a splendid purple-heart, occasionally
a “letter-wood” tree and numerous “ballis,” such as mora balli—balli
meaning wood, and when attached to a word signifies akin to: itaballi,
hubaballi, silverballi, &c.[41]
McTurk from practical experience in superintending Government
wood-cutting was quite an authority on timber, and cast many longing
eyes on grand trunks that would have squared from twenty to twenty-eight
inches, with a length of from seventy to eighty feet. Overhanging
the river, were also many shrubs of the “mahoe,”[42] whose bright
yellow flowers contrasted with climbing purple petrœas and crimson
passion-flowers. But the bright colours were mere islets in the
surrounding sea of green, and it was necessary to observe closely in
order to note the varying forms of vegetable life.
After the Warimambo, we came almost immediately on some very steep
rapids, but which fortunately had sufficient depth of water to allow of
the boats being hauled up without unloading. Here one of the crew nearly
lost his life, as he was swept off his feet by the strong current, and
only just caught the rope in time to save himself from being carried over
a dangerous eddy, in which, as he was a weak swimmer, he would probably
have been sucked under and drowned. He attributed his safety to the
strictness with which the Indians had observed the proper respect due
to a trogon that had flown over our heads in the morning; they have a
superstition that, if on setting out on a journey they should turn their
backs to this species of birds, ill luck will surely follow.
That evening we camped under some fine green-hearts that grew on the
banks, which were here higher than we had hitherto seen. At this period
camping was a very short business with us, as owing to the prevailing
fine weather no shelter was necessary. On landing, some of the crew
collected fire-wood and the cook prepared his provisions; two or three
cut away the underbrush and slung up our hammocks on suitable trees apart
from the others, and after they had hung their own the camp was finished.
As McTurk had been unable to obtain at Georgetown a cook who was willing
to work and carry loads like the other men, we were entirely at the
mercy of the Indians, whose ideas of cookery were of the most primitive
description. To them their rations of salt fish, rice, and fat bacon
were luxuries, and a small alligator they considered a prize, but McTurk
and I often agreed that our very plain fare would have been improved by
even moderate cooking. Of canned meats and relishes, we had to be very
sparing, but of flour we had an unlimited supply. But here again we
failed in having any means of rendering the flour palatable, although it
perforce formed the chief item of our meals. It was prepared in two ways;
in the first, the flour was kneaded into a cake of dough, roasted on the
embers and called a “bake;” in the second it was kneaded into a ball of
dough, boiled in a pot and called a “dumpling;” under either name it was
equally leathery and indigestible, and only with butter, of which we had
a very small supply, and brown sugar, was it possible to eat it. Later on
in our journey we made a slight improvement in the bakes and dumplings
by adding some of “Eno’s Fruit Salt,” which had been recommended to us
as containing valuable properties for a cooling drink in case of fever,
thereby causing the flour to rise and the cakes to become lighter. It was
certainly a novel baking-powder, but it succeeded. In future years should
a traveller discover one of these “bakes” on the banks of the river, he
will be puzzled about its origin, and will probably conclude that it is
the fossil remains of some extinct species of shell-fish.
The crew took it in turns to cook for themselves, whilst the smartest of
them became our own particular “chef,” and a strong active young fellow,
called “Charlie,” acted as our trenchman. Charlie could turn his hand
to anything, from building a house to making a basket, and was always
ready and willing; he and his duplicate, Sammy, were the ones who worked
hardest in and out of the water; they carried the heaviest loads, they
shot the most game, were most skilful in raising shelters, and were the
two who were never ill. Sometimes in the night a rain storm would come
on, and Charlie was always ready with tarpaulins to stretch over our
hammocks.
The nights were usually warm, but the mornings were chilly, and an early
plunge into the river was like a warm bath, so great was the difference
between the temperature of the air and water. And those morning and
evening swims in the clear brown water—brown from the colouring matter of
the wallaba[43] trees—of the broad Mazaruni were delightful, especially
when contrasted with the tiny bucketful and the narrow bath-room of the
hotel at Georgetown!