THE BUSH-MASTER—LABARRI—CAMOODI—WOOD ANTS—TURESIE—A PACU
HUNT—CASHEW TREE—WOODSKINS—PIRAI—SINGING FISH—INDIAN
DANCE—BEADS—FASHION—A RIVER BEND—VIEW OF HILLS—SNIPE—INDIAN
MYTHOLOGY—WANT A DOG—TABLE MOUNTAINS—MERUME RIVER—COURSE OF THE
MAZARUNI.
Towards midnight I was aroused by a low rustling sound in the bushes; as
I glanced around, my eye fell on an old mora tree just opposite, and at
the foot of my hammock, there on the grey trunk I plainly saw the shadow
of a snake’s head and neck. From its position, there could be no doubt
that it was close beside me, and almost over my head, its body being
half hidden by the branches of one of the trees in which it was coiled.
As I watched, the head and neck moved towards me and drew back in slow
undulating movements, the forked tongue shot out and seemed almost to
touch me. I did not dare to move, and hardly to breathe, as the reptile
seemed only waiting for my slightest motion in order to strike. The
minutes that I lay there with my eyes fixed on the horrid shadow seemed
like hours; all sorts of thoughts passed across my brain; had I the
nightmare? could the curried monkey have disagreed with me? I was wet
with perspiration and at last could stand it no longer, but, slowly
disentangling my feet from the blanket, threw myself forward and sprang
to the ground. Seizing my gun, I pointed it to where the snake must have
been, but there was no appearance of one, and a careful search revealed
nothing. Then I went to bed again, and there in front of me, on the tree,
was the same writhing form and shooting tongue. I put up hand, and its
shadow almost grasped the neck of the creature; then I raised myself,
and looking up saw my enemy. A projecting twig and a few leaves gently
swayed by the breeze were all that remained of my snake, but the shadow
they cast was so exactly that of a serpent that when I pointed it out to
McTurk he fully believed for a moment that it was one.
The forests of Guiana are well furnished with everything that a
traveller can want in the shape of beast or insect, and in snakes they
are especially prolific. Of these, the “bush-master”[53] is the most
dreaded, and as its name implies, is lord of the woods. In colour it
is as brilliant as its bite is venomous. The “labarri”[54] is equally
poisonous, but is not so aggressive as the “bush-master.” The “camoodi”—a
boa-constrictor—is the largest of all the snakes, and the stories of
their enormous size and strength would be incredible to any one who had
not travelled in Guiana. A gentleman in Georgetown solemnly assured me
that once when he was out shooting in the interior, with a party of seven
others, they stopped to rest after a long walk and all sat down on a
falling trunk; all at once it began to move, and what they had imagined
to be the trunk of a tree proved to be an immense “camoodi,” which glided
slowly into the forest without being fired at by any of the amazed
spectators. The “water-camoodi”[55] is even larger and more dangerous
than the land species.
It was destined that our night after the shadow-snake incident should not
pass wholly destitute of the pleasures of camp life, as, on putting on my
hat before starting, I found that it was wreathed round and round with
the clay tunnels of the wood-ant, thousands of which had taken advantage
of its position, at the foot of a tree, to erect on it their covered ways
before they climbed up aloft. Charlie was highly amused at the appearance
of the hat, but soon rid it of its inhabitants by holding it over a fire.
After ascending the falls of Turesie we noticed a long reed performing
strange evolutions in the water; this the Indians knew to be an arrow
with a pacu at the end of it, which had been shot and then lost by a
native. We at once gave chase, and a most amusing hunt followed. Whenever
we approached it, one of the crew plunged into the river, and immediately
the arrow disappeared to come up again fifty yards off in another
direction. This was repeated until the poor fish was tired out and at
last landed. Another excitement was in store for us, as hardly had the
pacu been caught before we saw in the distance a deer swimming across
the river. Away went the three boats in full cry, but the light canoe
soon led the chase, and it was a pretty sight to see her shoot through
the water amidst a shower of rainbows raised by the splendidly sweeping
paddles. Now she gains on the deer, no, the animal will reach the shore;
to shoot would be useless, as the body would sink; now he flags, as the
distance he has already swum is great, the “Akoora” flies through the
water, the crew are near enough to hear the panting of the victim, and
the next minute is his last. He proved to be a fine young buck, and was
a great acquisition to our stores. I am afraid I did not want him to
escape, until he had been captured; but I did then, it seemed so hard
that he should have chosen the moment of our arrival for his swim.
Soon after our deer chase we saw a splendid cashew[56] tree loaded with
purple-red fruit. This was a treat not to be neglected, and so in a
quarter of an hour the tree was down and stripped. The fruit was tart,
but extremely refreshing and of a pleasant flavour. Near this place I
took a shot at a parrot, and brought him down so little hurt that by the
evening he had quite recovered his spirits, and in two days was perfectly
tame. He became a great pet, and, as he called himself “Pourri,” we
christened him so. Later on, when one of the boats was sent back to the
settlement, he accompanied it, and there I found him well and happy on my
return.
The river now was freer from impediments than it had been hitherto; the
islands were fewer, and occasionally we were in sight of both banks.
Owing to its shallowness, sandbanks were numerous, and we frequently were
obliged to get out of the boats and push and lift them over. We camped
that evening in sight of a range of hills near the Issano river. An
Indian who had been following us at a distance in his woodskin,[57] since
the previous day, here came up to us. He was skinny and shy, but as
berries and cashews had of late formed his chief support, hunger overcame
his timidity, and he was thankful for some venison. A few matches pleased
him highly, as he had never seen any before, and the small fire which was
burning in his boat must have been a continued source of trouble, as if
it went out, the relighting of it was a laborious process.
Before sunrise next morning we were afloat on a beautiful clear expanse
of water, with a white sandy beach under the trees on both sides. A
silvery haze lay over the silent river, and the western hills were seen
as if through a filmy veil. As the sun rose, the silver changed to gold
in a flood of light that touched the hill crests, and then pouring over
the strange, peaceful land, cast rare tints and shades among the drooping
trees and into the forest depths. Our painted boats were quite in accord
with the bright scene, and the gay feather ornaments of the crews and the
gleam of the paddles were strikingly effective. The sky was of a frosty
blue, unrelieved by a single cloud.
Near where we stopped for breakfast was an Indian shed—banaboo—and there
we found numerous jaws of the pirai, and we were thankful that in our
morning bath we had escaped these voracious fish. The pirai[58] is not
large, but its jaws are so strong and teeth so sharp that it can take off
a finger or a toe at a bite. It will attack anything, even an alligator,
and ducks and geese seldom have any feet where this species of fish
exists, but a man bathing is an object of peculiar attraction to it. Its
flesh is coarse and bony, but the Indians eat it.
Several times that day our attention was directed to a peculiar humming
noise, like the distant burr of machinery in motion, proceeding from the
water over which we passed. McTurk and the Indians, who had heard similar
sounds on the Pomeroon and other rivers, said that they were uttered by
singing fish. That it was fish-music there was no doubt, as the nearer we
placed our ears to the water the more distinct were the sounds, and on
dropping a stone they ceased for a moment and then recommenced. The tone
was by no means inharmonious, and resembled the hum of a busy city heard
from a high church steeple, or the voice of Saint Francis reading prayers
to the fish, to which they were repeating the responses.
As we approached the Teboco hills, one of our Acawais said that he had an
uncle who lived in a village not far from the river, and asked permission
to visit him. This was readily granted by McTurk, and on finding the
landing we all went ashore, and the Indian, quickly dressing himself in a
clean shirt and an old hat, evidently with the intention of astonishing
the natives and showing them what civilization had done for him, started
off with two companions on a two-mile walk through the forest. On the
high bank near where we had landed we found an old shed, and near it,
not in it, as it probably contained a rich entomological collection, we
prepared breakfast, and then awaited the arrival of the absentees.
After a delay of nearly three hours our Indians arrived, and they were
quickly followed by the strangest procession I have ever seen. Along
the narrow forest path, which led from the clearing in which we were
seated, stalked in single file, noiselessly and solemnly, the whole
of the inhabitants from the Indian village. There were only twelve or
thirteen altogether, men, women, and children, but their slow march and
the long intervals between each gave magnitude to their number. As they
arrived they touched our hands, and then retired to a short distance,
the children trying to hide themselves behind their mothers, but with
little success. It was with the utmost difficulty that we could refrain
from loud bursts of laughter, so utterly ridiculous was the appearance
of the natives. The men were short, but stoutly proportioned, and wore
the customary “lap” and bright feathers in their hair. A few had little
patches of white fluff stuck about their faces, and all were freshly
painted. Their heads were got up in a very elaborate style; the parting
of their long black hair was dyed vermillion, and a Vandyck pattern of
the same brilliant colour ran round the forehead. Through the nose and
ears of each were passed yellow straws or strips of wood, those of the
ear resting on that of the nose, and giving a most humorous expression to
their pathetic countenances. Some carried a blow-pipe, others a bow and
arrows. In addition to their bead aprons, the women wore broad armlets
and anklets of beads, and their bodies and limbs were stained and
painted in stripes with crimson “arnotto”[59] and blue black “lana.”[60]
They were tall in proportion to the men and had well-turned limbs, but in
features were coarse and plain.
We were anxious to secure the services of a man who was acquainted with
the river and its tributaries; so, selecting the strongest, we found he
was willing to accompany us, and at once sent his son for his hammock.
In the interval, the ladies and gentlemen entertained us with a dance.
Placing their hands on each other’s shoulders, they formed into line,
and advanced and retreated in a kind of jig. As there were only two or
three steps in it, it became monotonous to all but the dancers, who
continued their amusement until the arrival of the hammock. The wife
of our late acquisition then bitterly lamented the departure of her
husband, and seemed inclined to accompany us herself, but as there was no
room for her we had to decline her offer; then she burst into tears and
would not be comforted. As a last resource we produced some beads, and
immediately tears were dried and the mourning wife was changed to a merry
coquette, whose only anxiety was concerning the colour of the ornaments.
Shakespeare says:—
“Win her with gifts, if she respects not words,
Dumb jewels often in their silent kind,
More than quiet words, do move a woman’s mind.”
Fashion reigns in the wilds of Guiana as it does in the regions of
civilization, and it is of no small importance to a traveller that his
_negotia_—beads, knives, &c.,—should be of the proper colour, shape, or
description.
We christened our new hand “Mazaruni,” not because his name was
William—he said he had been called William during a visit he had paid to
the settlement—but because we already had most of the common Christian
names among our crew. Paiworie and fresh cassava had been the cause of
our delay in the first instance, and a bowl of that unpleasant beverage
was brought for the entertainment of our Indians, who thoroughly enjoyed
it. Two woodskins, containing friends of Mazaruni, accompanied us as
far as the Teboco hills, and there left us, as our course was deflected
due south for some distance. This part of the river was very pretty, as
from each bank numerous points ran out, all thickly wooded with trees
of various shades. Before we reached the southern extremity of this
river-bend we obtained a beautiful view of the Karanang Hills, and beyond
them, to the south, we saw in the far distance a high table-mountain,
and behind that again a lofty peak, dim and hazy, but standing out in
clear outline against the pale blue of the evening sky. This sugar-loaf
peak was said by Mazaruni to be that of Illuie, but on our return another
native who was with us gave it a different name.[61] After passing the
mouth of the Semang River on our left, we rounded the Teboco promontory
by ascending the pretty falls of Teboco, and continued on our way in a
northerly direction. That evening we camped, during a rain storm, on the
left bank of the Mazaruni, opposite the Karanang River. Next day we
varied our game-bag by shooting some snipe, and the numerous fresh tracks
of tapirs gave us hopes of obtaining large game, but a small accourie[62]
was the only four-footed creature we got. This little rodent figures
prominently in Indian mythology.
One of the legends runs thus; the inhabitants of the sky once peeped
through a hole that they had been told not to approach, and on looking
down saw another world. They therefore cut down long bush-ropes and let
themselves down. After wandering about they became frightened and began
to ascend the ladder, but an old lady of too ample proportions stuck in
the hole, and, during the fighting and scrambling that ensued the rope
broke and many had to remain on earth. Then, as they had no provisions
they became very lean, but noticing that the accourie was always plump
they set the woodpecker to watch its feeding ground. But the woodpecker
betrayed himself by his tapping. Then the alligator was told to watch,
and he found out, but came back and told a lie, so they cut out his
tongue.[63] Then the rat was sent off, but he never returned and the
people starved. They wandered off and left a little child behind, and
when they returned after a long time, having lived on berries, they found
the child alive and well, and surrounded by Indian corn cobs that the
accourie had fed it with. Then the child followed the accourie after its
next visit and discovered the maize field, and the people were saved.
In gratitude, they kill and eat the delicate little animal whenever they
have the opportunity.
In their tradition of the Deluge, maize takes the place of the olive
branch. They say that only one man was saved in his canoe, and when
he sent out a rat to discover land, it brought back a head of Indian
corn. The Caribs, in their account of the Creation, say that the Great
Spirit sat on a mora tree, and picking off pieces of the bark threw
them into the stream, and they became different animals. Then the Great
Spirit—Makanaima—made a large mould, and out of this fresh, clean clay,
the white man stepped. After it got a little dirty the Indian was formed,
and the Spirit being called away on business for a long period the mould
became black and unclean, and out of it walked the negro. All the Indian
tribes of Guiana—Acawais, Arawaaks, Arecunas, Warraus, Macusis, &c.—rank
themselves far higher than the negro race, and the Caribs consider
themselves the first of the tribes, calling themselves “the” people, and
their language “the” language.
Ever since our departure we had regretted that we had brought no dog with
us, as without one it was almost impossible to drive the labba[64] or
the great pig-like water haas[65] from their lair amongst the reeds and
moco-mocos[66] that lined the banks. The labba and tapir being nocturnal
in their habits were hardly ever seen by us, and it was only occasionally
that we chanced to see the day-feeding animals. We frequently tried to
buy an Indian dog from the natives, but they invariably declined to part
with them.
After leaving Teboco, we encountered no more falls or rapids of any
importance, having up to that time ascended about thirty and gained
an elevation above the sea of about two hundred feet. Continuing our
northerly course, we saw towards the north-west a long table mountain
known as the Comaka, which was much broken and very jagged at the
northern extremity. On our left was the precipitous hill of Tamanua,
wooded far up its sides and then presenting a massive face of rock,
seamed and scarred in places with ravines and crevices. Over the strange
mountain crests rain clouds continually came and went, and storms which
never failed to deluge us in their progress hurried past on their way to
the hill regions.
At last from north our direction changed to west, and after about six
miles of this westerly course we arrived at the mouth of the Merumé
river. Twenty miles to the south lay the Merumé mountains, in which the
Mazaruni has its source. The course of this river is a very singular one,
completely enclosing a great area of country, with the exception of the
narrow strip of land, twenty miles in breadth, between its source and the
mouth of the Merumé.[67]
It had been our intention to ascend the Merumé as far as possible, then,
striking across the mountains, to cross the head waters of the Mazaruni,
and reaching the Oweang river, down which we could travel in woodskins,
again meet the Mazaruni in its course westward. Owing to the shallowness
of the Merumé, we found it would be impossible to ascend that river in
our boats, and there were no woodskins to be obtained. We therefore
determined to continue our course up the Mazaruni, until we reached the
Curipung river, which our new hand, Mazaruni, assured us would have a
sufficient depth of water as far as the commencement of the overland
path. Within three days we expected to arrive at the mouth of the
Curipung.