OF THE LANGUAGE OF THE ABIPONES.
The multitude and variety of tongues spoken in Paraguay alone, exceeds
alike belief and calculation. Nor should you imagine that they vary only
in dialect. Most of them are radically different. Truly admirable is
their varied structure, of which no rational person can suppose these
stupid savages to have been the architects and inventors. Led by this
consideration, I have often affirmed that the variety and artful
construction of languages should be reckoned amongst the other arguments
to prove the existence of an eternal and omniscient God. The Jesuits
have given religious instructions to fourteen nations of Paraguay, and
widely propagated the Christian faith, in fourteen different languages.
They did not each understand them all, but every one was well acquainted
with two or three, namely, those of the nations amongst whom they had
lived. Of the number of these was I, who spent seven years amongst the
Abipones, eleven amongst the Guaranies. The nations for whom we
laboured, and for whom founded colonies, were the Guaranies, Chiquitos,
Mocobios, Abipones, Tobas, Malbalaes, Vilelas, Passaines, Lules,
Isistines, Homoampas, Chunipies, Mataguayos, Chiriguanes, Lenguas or
Guaycurùs, Mbayas, Pampas, Serranos, Patagones, and Yaròs. Moreover, the
Guichua language, which is peculiar to the whole of Peru, and very
familiar to Negro slaves, to the lower orders amongst the Spaniards, and
even to matrons of the higher ranks in Tucuman, was used by many of the
Jesuits, both in preaching and confession. Different languages were
spoken too in the towns of the Chiquitos, which were composed of very
different nations. The languages of the Abipones, Mocobios, and Tobas,
certainly have all one origin, and are as much alike as Spanish and
Portugueze. Yet they differ not only in dialect, but also in innumerable
little words. The same may be said of the Tonocotè language, in use
amongst the Lules and Isistines. The language of the Chiriguanes and
Guaranies, who live full five hundred leagues apart, is the same, with
the exception of a few words, which may be easily learnt in the course
of two or three weeks by any one who understands either of them.
Many writers upon America have interspersed sentences of the Indian
languages into their histories; but, good Heavens! how utterly defective
and corrupted! They have scarce left a letter unmutilated. But these
writers are excusable, for they have drawn their information from
corrupted sources. Without having even entered America, they insert into
their journals the words of savage languages, the meaning and
pronunciation of which they are totally ignorant of. Hence it is that
the American names of places, rivers, trees, plants, and animals, are so
wretchedly mutilated in all books, that we can hardly read them without
laughter. Spanish children, by constantly conversing with Indians of
their own age, imbibe a correct knowledge of the Indian languages,
which, to grown-up persons, is a business both of time and labour. I
have known adults who, after conversing many years with the Indians,
uttered as many errors as syllables. It is difficult for a European to
accustom his tongue to the strange and distorted words which the savages
pronounce so fast and indistinctly, hissing with their tongues, snoring
with their nostrils, grinding with their teeth, and gurgling with their
throats; so that you seem to hear the sound of ducks quacking in a pond,
rather than the voices of men talking. Learned men had long wished that
a person who understood some American language would clearly expound the
system, construction, and whole anatomy of it: and it is to comply with
the desire of these persons that I am going to treat compendiously of
the Abiponian language.
Most of the Americans want some letter which we Europeans use, and use
some which we want. A letter of very frequent occurrence amongst the
Abipones, but which we Europeans are unacquainted with, is one which has
the mixed sound of R and G. To pronounce it properly, the tongue must be
slided a little along the roof of the mouth, and brought towards the
throat, in the manner of those persons who have a natural incapacity of
pronouncing the letter R. To signify this peculiar letter of the
Abipones, we have written R or G indiscriminately, but distinguished by
a certain mark, thus: _Laetar̂at_, a son: _Achibir̂aik_, salt. The
plural number changes R into K, thus: _Laetkáte_, sons. Europeans find
much difficulty in pronouncing this letter, especially if it recur
several times in the same word, as in _Rar̂egr̂anr̂aik_, a Vilela
Indian. _Rellar̂anr̂aǹ potròl_, he hunts wild horses. _Lapr̂ir̂atr̂aik_,
many-coloured. The Abipones can distinguish an European, however
well-skilled in every other part of their language, by the pronunciation
of this letter.
The Abipones use the ö, which the Paraguayrians write ë with two dots,
like the French, Hungarians, and Germans: as _Ahëpegak_, a horse,
_Yahëc_, my face. They make frequent use of the Greek K. They pronounce
N like the Spaniards, as if the letter I was added to it: thus,
_Español_ must be pronounced _Espaniol_. The Abipones say _Menetañi_, it
is within; _Yoamcachiñi_, the inner part is good. The legitimate
pronunciation of this and other letters can only be learned _vivâ voce_.
Great attention must be paid to all the different accents and points,
for the omission of a point, or the variation of an accent, gives a word
a totally different meaning, thus: _Heét_, I fly; _Hëët_, I speak;
_Háten_, I despise; _Hateń_, I hit the mark. This language abounds in
very long words, consisting of ten, twenty, or more letters. The accents
repeated in the same word show where the voice should be raised and
where lowered: for the speech of this nation is very much modulated, and
resembles singing. The accents alone are scarce sufficient to teach the
pronunciation. It would not be amiss to subjoin musical notes to each of
the syllables, unless a master supersedes the necessity of this artifice
by teaching it _vivâ voce_. It may be as well to give some examples of
accents. _Hamihégemkiń_, _Debáyakaikin_, _Raregr̂ágremar̂achiń_,
_Oahérkaikiń_. These are names of Abipones. _Grcáuagyégarigé_, pity me.
_Oaháyegalgè_, free me. _Hapagrañütapagetá_, you teach one another.
_Ñicauagrañíapegar̂algé_, I intercede for thee. _Hemokáchiñütápegioà_,
thou praisest me. Here are words of twenty letters. You will not find
many monosyllables. The tall Abipones like words which resemble
themselves in length.
They have a masculine and a feminine gender, but no neuter. A knowledge
of the genders is to be gained by use alone. _Grahaulái_, the sun, is
feminine with them, like the German _Die Sonne_. _Grauèk_, the moon, is
masculine, as our _Der Monde_. Some adjectives are of both genders, as
_Naà_, which is evil, both masculine and feminine. _Neeù_, good, of both
genders. In others every gender has its own termination, as _Ariaik_,
good, noble, _mas_. _Ariayè_, good, noble, _fem_. _Cachiergaik_, an old
man; _Cachergayè_, an old woman.
The nouns have no cases. A letter prefixed to the noun sometimes
indicates the case: as, _Ay`m_, I; _M`ay`m_, to me; _Akami_, thou;
_M'akami_, to thee.
The formation of the plural number of nouns is very difficult to
beginners; for it is so various that hardly any rule can be set down. I
give you some examples:
_Singular._ _Plural._
Laetar̂at, a son Laetkaté, sons
Lekàt, a metal Lekachì, metals
Ahëpegak, a horse Ahëṕega, horses
Yúihák, an ox Yúihà, oxen
Nekététàk, a goose Neketéteri, geese
Oachígranigà, a stag Oachigranigal, stags
Iñier̂à, the flower of Iñiegari, flowers, or years
the alfaroba, or a year
Neogà, a day Neogotà, days
Eergr̃aík, a star Eèrgr̂aiè, stars
Aápar̃aìk, linen or woollen cloth Aapar̃aikà, pieces of cloth
Yapòt, a brave man Yapochì, brave men
Lachaogè, a river Lachaokè, rivers
Letèk, the leaf of a tree Letegkè, leaves
Ketélk, a mule Ketelr̂a, mules
Panà, a root Panarì, roots
Ìíbichigì, angry, _sing_. Ìíbichigeri, angry, _plur_.
From these few examples it appears that nouns ending in the same letter
have different plurals. Moreover, as the Greeks, beside a plural number,
have also a dual by which they express two things, so the Abipones have
two plurals, of which the one signifies more than one, the other many:
thus _Joalé_, a man. _Joaleè_, or _Joaleèna_, some men. _Joalíripì_,
many men. _Ahëpegak_, a horse. _Ahëpega_, some horses. _Ahëpegeripì_,
many horses.
I wonder that the Abipones have not two words for the first person
plural, _we_, like many other American nations. The Guaranies express it
in two ways: they sometimes say, _ñandè_, sometimes _ore_. The first
they call the inclusive, the second the exclusive. In their prayers,
addressing God, they say, We sinners, _ore angaypabiyà_; because God is
excluded from the number of sinners. Speaking with men, they say, _ñandè
angaypabiyà_, because those whom they address are sinners likewise, and
they accordingly use the inclusive _ñandè_.
As they have no possessive pronouns, mine, thine, his, the want of them
is supplied in every noun, by the addition or alteration of various
letters. Amongst the Abipones a great difficulty is occasioned by the
various changes of the letters, especially in the second person. Take
these examples. _Netà_, a father indeterminately. _Yità_, my father.
_Gretaỳ_, thine. _Letà_, his. _Gretà_, our father. _Gretayi_, yours.
_Letai_, theirs.
_Naetar̃at_, a son, without expressing whose. _Yaetr̃at_, my son.
_Graetr̃achi_, thy son. _Laetr̃at_, his son.
_Nepèp_, a maternal grandfather. _Yepèp_, mine. _Grepepè_, thine.
_Lepèp_, his.
_Naàl_, a grandson. _Yaàl_, mine. _Graalí_, thine. _Laàl_, his.
_Nenàk_, a younger brother. _Yenàk_, mine. _Grenarè_, thine. _Lenàk_,
his.
_Nakirèk_, a cousin german. _Ñakirèk_, mine. _Gnakiregi_, thine.
_Nakirek_, his.
_Noheletè_, the point of a spear. _Yoheletè_, mine. _Grohelichi_, thine.
_Loheletè_, his.
_Natatr̃a_, life. _Yatatr̃a_, my life. _Gratatr̃e_, thine. _Latatr̃a_, his.
But these examples are sufficient to show the multiplied variety of the
second person. Amongst the Guaranies too, the possessives are affixed to
the nouns, but this occasions no difficulty, because the mutation is
regular: thus, _Tuba_, a father. _Cheruba_, my father. _Nderuba_, thine.
_Tuba_, his. _Guba_, theirs. _Tay̆_, a son. _Cheray̆_, mine. _Nderay̆_,
thine. _Tay̆_, his. _Guay̆_, theirs. _Che_ is prefixed to nouns for the
first person, and _Nde_ for the second, without variation. Likewise in
the plural they say _Ñande_, or _Oreruba_, our father. _Penduba_, your
father. _Tuba_, or _Guba_, their father. In all other substantives these
particles supply the place of possessives.
The following observation must be made on the possessive nouns of the
Abipones. If they see any thing whose owner they do not know, and wish
to be made acquainted with, they enquire to whom it belongs in various
ways. If the object in question be animate, (even though it only possess
vegetable life,) as wheat, a horse, a dog, a captive, &c. they say
_Cahami ledà?_ whose property is this? to which the other will reply,
_Ylà_, mine. _Grelè_, thine. _Lelà_, his. On the other hand, if the
thing be inanimate, as a spear, a garment, food, &c. they say _Kahamì
kalàm_, to whom does this belong, and the other will say, _Ai`m_, to me.
_Karami_, to thee. _Hala`m_, to him. _Kara`m_, to us, &c.
The pronouns of the first and second persons are subject to no
mutations, on account of place or situation. Thus, _Aỳm_, I. _Akami_,
thou. _Aka`m_, we. _Akamyì_, you. If _alone_ be added, they are altered
in this manner: _Aỳmátarà_, I alone. _Akamítarà_, thou alone. _Akàm
àkalè_, we alone.
But the pronoun of the third person, he, is varied, according to the
situation of the person of whom you speak. For if the object of
discourse
_Mas. he._ _Fem. she._
Be present, he is called, Eneha Anahà
If he be sitting, Híñìha Háñiha
If lying, Híriha Háriha
If standing, Háraha Háraha
If walking and seen, Ehahá Ahaha
If not seen, Ekaha Akaha.
He alone is also expressed in various ways.
If he alone is sitting, you Yñítarà
say
If lying, Irítàra
If walking, Ehátára
If absent, Ekátará
If standing, Erátára.
They form the comparative and superlative degrees, not as in other
languages, by the addition of syllables, but in a different manner. An
Abipon would express this sentence. _The tiger is worse than the dog_,
thus: _the dog is not bad though the tiger be bad_. _Nétegink chik naà,
oágan nihirenak la naà_: or thus, _The dog is not bad as the tiger_,
_Netegink chi chi naà ỳágàm nihirenak_. When we should say, _The tiger
is worst_, an Abipon would say, _the tiger is bad above all things_,
_Nihirenak lamerpëëáoge kenoáoge naà_: or thus, _The tiger is bad so
that it has no equal in badness_. _Nihirenak chit keoá naà._ Sometimes
they express a superlative, or any other eminence, merely by raising the
voice. _Ariaik_, according to the pronunciation, signifies either a
thing simply good, or the very best. If it be uttered with the whole
force of the breast, and with an elevated voice, ending in an acute
sound, it denotes the superlative degree; if with a calm, low voice, the
positive. They signify that they are much pleased with any thing, or
that they approve it greatly, by uttering with a loud voice the words
_Là naà!_ before _Ariaik_, or _Eúrenék_. _Now it is bad!_ _It is
beautiful_, or _excellent_! _Nehaol_ means night. If they exclaim in a
sharp tone, _Là nehaòl_, they mean that it is _midnight_, or the dead of
the night: if they pronounce it slowly and hesitatingly, they mean that
it is the beginning of the night. When they see any one hit the mark
with an arrow, knock down a tiger quickly, &c. and wish to express that
he is eminently dexterous, they cry with a loud voice, _La yáraigè_, now
he knows, which, with them, is the highest commendation.
They form diminutives, by adding _avàlk_, _aole_, or _olek_, to the last
syllable of the word, thus: _Ahëpegak_, a horse. _Ahëpegeravàlk_, a
little horse, _Óénèk_, a boy. _Óénèkavàlk_, a little boy. _Haáye_, a
girl. _Haayáole_, a little girl. _Paỳ_, father, a word for priest,
introduced into America by the Portugueze. _Payolék_, little father,
which they used when they wished to express particular kindness towards
us. When angry, they only used the word _Paỳ_. _Kàëpak_, wood.
_Kàëperáole_, a little piece of wood, by which they designated the beads
of the rosary. _Lenechì_, little, moderate. _Lénechiólek_, or
_Lenechiavàlk_. They make very frequent use of diminutives, which, with
them, indicate either tender affection or contempt: thus, _Yóale_, a
man. _Yoaleólek_, a little man, a bit of a man. Often with them a
diminutive is a stronger expression of love or praise than any
superlative: thus, they call a stronger or handsomer horse than
ordinary, _Ahëpegeravàlk_. The Spaniards too express a more particular
liking for a thing, when they call it _bonito_, than when they simply
call it _bueno_, good or pretty.
Most of the American nations are extremely deficient in words to express
number. The Abipones can only express three numbers in proper words.
_Iñitára_, one. _Iñoaka_, two. _Iñoaka yekainì_, three. They make up for
the other numbers by various arts: thus, _Geyenk ñatè_, the fingers of
an emu, which, as it has three in front and one turned back, are four,
serves to express that number. _Neènhalek_, a beautiful skin spotted
with five different colours, is used to signify the number five. If you
interrogate an Abipon respecting the number of any thing, he will stick
up his fingers, and say, _leyer iri_, so many. If it be of importance to
convey an accurate idea of the number of the thing, he will display the
fingers of both hands or feet, and if all these are not sufficient, show
them over and over again till they equal the number required. Hence
_Hanámbegem_, the fingers of one hand means five; _Lanám rihegem_, the
fingers of both hands, ten; _Lanam rihegem, cat gracherhaka
anámichirihegèm_, the fingers of both hands and both feet, twenty. They
have also another method of making up for want of numbers. When they
return from an excursion to hunt wild horses, or shoot tame ones, none
of the Abipones will ask them how many horses have you brought home?
but, how much space will the troop of horse which you have brought home
occupy? to which they will reply, the horses placed in a row would fill
the whole market-place, or they extend from this grove to the river's
bank. With this reply, which gives them an idea of the quantity of
horses, they remain satisfied, though uninformed of the exact number.
Sometimes they take up a handful of sand or grass, and showing it to the
interrogator, endeavour in this way to express an immense quantity. But
when number is spoken of, take care you do not readily credit whatever
the Abipones say. They are not ignorant of arithmetic, but averse to it.
Their memory generally fails them. They cannot endure the tedious
process of counting. Hence to rid themselves of questions on the
subject, they show as many fingers as they like, sometimes deceived
themselves, sometimes deceiving others. Often, if the number about which
you ask exceeds three, an Abipon, to save himself the trouble of showing
his fingers, will cry _Pòp!_ many. _Chic leyekalipì_, innumerable.
Sometimes, when ten soldiers are coming, the assembled people will
exclaim, _Yoaliripì latenk naúeretápek_, a very great number of men are
approaching.
But still greater is their want of numerals, which grammarians call
ordinals, for they cannot count beyond first: _Era námachìt_, the first.
So that the Ten Commandments are reckoned in this way: the first
commandment, _Era námachìt_, but as they are unable to express _second_,
_third_, _fourth_, in their language, instead of these numbers, they
place before the commandments, _and another_, _and another_, _&c_. _Cat
laháua_, _cat laháua_, _&c_. They have, however, words signifying first
and last, _Enàm cahèk_, that which goes before, and _Iñagehék_, that
which comes last.
They have only two distributive numerals: each _Iñitarapè_, and
_Iñóakatapè_, which answers to the Latin, _bini_. _Liñoaka yahat_, means
twice. _Ekátarapek_, and sometimes _Haûe ken_, once. This is the extent
of the Abiponian arithmetic, and the whole of their scanty supply of
numbers. Scarce richer are the Guarany Indians, who cannot go beyond the
number four. They call One, _Petey̆_. Two, _Mokoy̆_. Three, _Mbohapĭ_.
Four, _Irundy̆_. First, _Iyipĭbae_. Second, _Imomokoyndaba_. Third,
_Imombohapĭhaba_. Fourth, _Imoimrundy̆haba_. [1]_Singuli, Petey̆tey̆.
Bini, Mokoy̆mokoy̆. Terni, Mbohápĭhapĭ. Quaterni, Irundy̆ rundy̆._ Once,
_Petey̆ yebĭ_. Twice, _Mokoy̆ yebi_, _&c_. The Guaranies, like the
Abipones, when questioned respecting a thing exceeding four, immediately
reply, _Ndipapahabi_, or _Ndipapahai_, innumerable. But as a knowledge
of numbers is highly necessary in the uses of civilized life, and above
all, in confession, the Guaranies were daily taught at church to count
in the Spanish language, in the public explanation, or recitation of the
catechism. On Sunday, the whole people used to count from one to a
thousand, in the Spanish tongue, in the church. But it was all in vain.
Generally speaking, we found the art of music, painting, and sculpture,
easier learnt than numbers. They can all pronounce the numbers in
Spanish, but are so easily and frequently confused in counting, that you
must be very cautious how you credit what they say in this matter.
Footnote 1:
I give the original Latin in this and other places, where the English
does not fully express the meaning.
For the conjugation of verbs, no paradigm can be given; as the singular
number of the present tense of the indicative mood differs in almost all
words, and is more difficult to learn than the augments of the Greek
verbs. The second person particularly takes new letters, not only in the
beginning, but also in the middle, and the end, as will appear from the
examples which I shall lay before you.
_Singular._ _Plural._
_I love_ Rikapìt _We love_ Grkapitàk
_Thou lovest_ Grkàpichì _Ye love_ Grkápichii
_He loves_ Nkàpit _They love_ Nkapitè
_I know_ Riáraige Graáraigè Yaraige
_I remember_ Hakaleènt Hakaleènchì Yakaleènt
_Id._ Ñetúnetá Nichuñütá Netúnetá
_I teach_ Hápagřanátřan Hapagřanatřařì Yápagřanatřan
_I hasten_ Rihahagalgè Grahálgalì Yahágalgè
_I die_ Rìígà Gregachì Yígà
_I am drowned_ Riigaráñi Gregácháñi Ygárañi
_I leap_ Riahat Rahachi Rahàt
_I fear_ Rietachà Gretachi Netacha
_I desire_ Rihè Grihì Nihè
_I fly_ Natahegem Natáchihegem Natahegem
_I am drunk_ Rkíhogèt Grkíhogichì Lkíhogèt
_I am slow_ Riaàl Graalì Naal
_I am strong_ Riahòt Grihochi Yhòt
_I am well_ Rioàmkatà Groemkètà Yoámkatà
_I kick_ Hachàk Hachařè Rachak
_I eat_ Hakeñè Kiñigi Rkeñe
_I vomit_ Rièmaletapèk Gremalitápèk Némaletapèk
_I sleep_ Aatè Aachi Roatè
_I am ashamed_ Ripagak Grpágařè Npagàk
_I aim at the
mark_ Hatenetálgè Hachínitalgè Yatenetalgè
_I value_ Riápategè Grpáchiigè Yapategè
_I am whipped_ Hamèlk Hamelgì Yamèlk
_I drink_ Řařàm Řařami Nařàm
_I make_ Haèt Eichì Yaèt
_I obey_ Riahapèt Grahapichi Nahapet
_I come to_ Řauè Nauichì Nauè
But these few are sufficient to show the infinite changes of almost all
verbs. I refrain from giving more examples which I have in my head; for
it is not my intention to teach you the Abiponian language, but to show
you the strange construction of it, and to avoid fatiguing your ears
with so many long savage words. From the little which I _have_ written,
you will collect that the inflexions and variations of the second person
in particular can only be learnt by use, not by rules. The other tenses
of the indicative mood, and indeed all the moods of every conjugation,
give little trouble to learners, being formed simply by adding a few
syllables, or particles, to the present of the indicative: for
instance:—
Present tense. _Rikapit_, I love.
The imperfect is wanting.
Preterite. _Rikapit kan_, or _kanigra_, I have loved.
Preterpluperfect. _Kánigra gehe rikapit_, I had loved formerly.
Future. _Rikapitàm_, I will love.
You add the same particles to the second and third persons, without
changing them in any other respect: thus—
_Grkapichi_, thou lovest.
_Grkapichi kan_, thou hast loved.
_Grkapichi kanigra gehe_, thou hadst loved.
_Grkapichiam_, thou wilt love.
For the syllable _am_ is what distinguishes the present from the future.
The imperative mood undergoes no mutation either in the present or
future tense. Thus, hasten thou; _Grahálgalí_, which is also the second
person of the indicative, thou hastenest. _Eichi_, do thou: _Grkapichi_,
love thou: or _Grkapichiam_, which likewise signifies thou wilt love.
They sometimes prefix the particle _Tach_ to the second person of the
imperative, and _Ták_ to the third: thus _Tach grahápichì_ obey thou.
_Tach grakatřani_, say thou. _Ták hanek_, let him come: which also
denotes the present of the potential; thus: _Ták hanek Kaámelk_, the
Spaniard may come for me. Prohibition is expressed by the future with
the addition of the particle _tchik_ or _chigè_, according to the
following letter. Thus, thou mayst not kill, _Chit kahamatrañiam_. Thou
mayst not lie, _Chit Noaharegraniam_.
The optative, or subjunctive, is formed of various particles, placed
before or after the present of the indicative: as I shall show by
examples.
_Chigriek_, would that. _Chigriek grkapichi g'Dios eknam caogarik_:
Would that thou wouldst love God the Creator. _Kët_, if. _Kët
greenřani, G'Dios grkapichi kët_: If thou wert good thou wouldst love
God. _Kët_, if, is repeated both in the condition and the conditionated.
_Amla_, after that. _Amla grkapichi g`Dios, Dios `lo nkapíchieřoám_:
After thou hast loved God, God will love thee. _Postquam amaveris Deum,
Thus amabit te._
_Ehenhà_, until. _Ehenhà na chigrkápichi_ _g'Dios, chitl gihè
groamketápekàm_: Until, or as long as thou dost not love God, thou wilt
never be quiet. _Donec vel quamdiu non amaveris Deum, non eris unquam
quietus._
_Amamach_, when. _Amamach rikápichieřoa, lo grkápichioam_: When thou
lovest me, I will love thee. _Quando amaveris me, amabo te._
_Kët mat_, if. _Kët mat nkápichirioà, là rikapitla kët_: If they had
loved me, I would have loved them. _Si amassent me, amassem illos._
_Tach_, that. _Tach grkápichioa, rikapichieřoàm_: Love me, that I may
love thee. _Ama me, ut amem te._
The Abipones seem to want the infinitive, the place of which they supply
in other ways, as I shall more plainly show by examples, thus: now I
wish to eat: _Là rihete m'hakéñe_. _Rihe_, or _rihete_, I wish, and
_hakéñe_, I eat, are both put in the same mood, tense, and person; the
letter M placed between them makes, or supplies the place of our
infinitive. I cannot go, _Haoahen m'ahik_. _Haoahen_ and _ahik_, are
both in the first person of the present of the indicative, M only being
placed between. Thou knowest not how to teach me: _Chig graařaige
m'riapa grañi_. Wilt thou be baptized, or, as the Abipones say, wilt
thou have thy head washed? _Mik mich grehech m'nakarigi gremarachi?_
They elude the necessity of an infinitive, of gerunds, and supines, by
various modes of speech peculiar to themselves. It may be as well to
illustrate this by some examples. When we say, Can I go? an Abipon would
express it in this way: I will go. There is no difficulty, or is there
any difficulty? _Lahikam. Chigeeka loaik_, or _Mañigà loaik?_ Thou
oughtest to go, an Abipon would render thus: _Yoamkatà kët, lame_: It is
right that thou shouldest go. Thou oughtest not to go, or it is not
convenient: _Mich grehech m'amè? oagan chik yoamk_: Wilt thou go? though
that is not convenient. How skilful this man is in swimming! an Abipon
would express thus: What a swimmer this man is! _Kemen álařankachak
yóale!_ I shall be strong by eating: _Rihotam am hakeñe_: I shall be
strong whilst I eat. I come to speak to thee: _Hëëchiapegrari; kleranam
kaúe, la nauè_: I will speak to thee; that was the reason why I came
now. The boy is wont to tell lies: _La noaharegřan kén oenek_. The
particles _kén_ and _aage_ signify custom. An Abipon would also express
the above sentence in this way: _Noaharegřan oenek: la lahërek_: The
boy tells lies: now it is his custom. I am accustomed to pray: _Klamach
hanáyaagè m'hëëtoalá_.
The passive voice in affirming has no particular form, but is expressed
by some passive participle, or by active verbs. When we say that a thing
is lost or ended, they say that the thing has perished, ceased, does not
appear, &c. _Yúihak oaloà_, or _chitlgihe_: The ox hath perished, or
does not appear. In denying, the passive is explained by an active verb
only, with the addition of the particle _chigat_, or _chigíchiekat_:
thus: It is not known: _Chigat yaraigè_. _Yaraigè_ is the indicative
mood, present tense, third person singular, of the active verb. That is
not eaten: _Chigat yaìk_. That is not usurped: _Chigat eygà_. I was not
informed: _Chigat ripachigui_. The horses were not well guarded,
therefore they perished: _Machka chigat nkehayape enò ahëpega, maoge
oaloéra_. The stars cannot be counted: _Chigichiekat nakatñi eeřgřae_.
What is not known, ought not to be told. _Am chigat yaraige,
chigichiekat yaratapekam, &c._
Of many active verbs, both active, and passive, but not future
participles are formed. _Rikapit_, I love, _amo_. From it are formed:
_Ykapicher̂_, beloved by me, or my beloved; _a me amatus, meus amatus_.
_Grkapicheřachi_, thy beloved, _tuus amatus_. _Lkapicheřat_, his
beloved: _suus amatus_. From this comes the feminine. _Ykapichkatè_, my
beloved; _mea amata_. _Grkapichkachi_, thy beloved; _tua amata_.
_Lkapichkatè_, his beloved, _illius amata_. I am beloved by all; _ego
sum amatus ab omnibus_: _Lkapicheraté Kenoataoge_. From this participle
are derived, _Kapicheřa_, love, _amor_. _Ykapicheřa_, my love; _amor
meus_. _Kapichieraik_, loving, a lover, _amans_, _amator_.
_Rikaùagè_, I pity, I feel a kindness for any one. Its passive
participle is, _Ykáuagřat_, kindly affected by me. Substantive,
_Ykaúgřa_, my good-will. _Kauagřankatè_, the instrument, manner, or
place of good-will, or the benefit itself. _Kauagřankachak_,
benevolent, compassionate. _Ykaúagek_, kindly regarded by me.
_Grkaúagigì_, kindly regarded by thee.
_Hapagřanatřan_, I teach. _Napagřanatřanak_, the master who teaches.
_Napagřanatek_, the scholar who is taught. _Napagřanatřanřek_,
teaching, instruction. _Napagřanatrankatè_, the place where, or the
matter which the scholar is taught.
We now enter a labyrinth of the Abiponian tongue, most formidable to
learners, where, unless guided by long experience, as Theseus was by
Ariadne, you will not be able to walk without risk of error. I am
speaking of those verbs which grammarians call transitive, or
reciprocal. In our language, the action of one person, or thing, upon
another, is easily described by the pronouns themselves, _I_, _thou_,
_he_, _we_, _you_. The Abipones, on the contrary, neglecting the use of
the above pronouns, effect this by various inflections of the verbs, and
by here and there combining new particles with them. This shall be made
plainer by examples. _I love thee_, _thou lovest me_, _he loves me or
thee_. _We love him_, _ye love us or them_. The Latins, in this manner,
express mutual love, to which purpose the Abipones use much
circumlocution, and various artifices, thus: _Rikapit_, I love.
_Rikapichieřou_, I love thee. _Grkapichioà_, thou lovest me.
_Nkapichioà_, he loves me. _Nkapichieřoà_, he loves thee. _Grkapitaè_,
we love him. _Grkapitla_, we love them. _Matníkapitalta_, I love myself.
_Nikapichialta_, thou lovest thyself. _Grkapitáatá_, we love one
another. But would that this were a paradigm of all the verbs! Others
take other particles, and changes of syllables, thus:
_Rikauagè_, I pity. _Rikauágyégarigè_, I pity thee. _Grkauagiygè_, thou
pitiest me. _Grkauág yegarik_, thou pitiest us. _Nkauágigyè_, he pities
me. _Nkauág yegarigé_, he pities thee. _Nkaúagegè_, he pities him.
_Grkaúagekápegetaá_, we pity one another. _Ñikaúakáltaá_, I pity myself.
_Hapagřanatřan_, I teach. _Neapagřan_, I teach myself.
_Hapagřankátápegetà_, we teach one another. _Hapagrani_, I teach thee.
_Riápagřani_, thou teachest me. _Riapagřan_, he teaches me.
_Yapagřan_, he teaches him.
_Hamelk_, I whip. _Hámelgi_, I whip thee. _Riámelgi_, thou whippest me.
_Riamelk_, he whips me. _Gramelgi_, he whips thee. _Yamélk_, he whips
him.
_Hakleenté_, I remember. _Hakleenchitápegřari_, I remember thee.
_Hakkenchitapegii_, thou rememberest me. _Yákleentetápegiì_, he
remembers me. From these instances, you will perceive the variation in
transitive verbs, as sometimes _eřoà_, sometimes _yégarige_, sometimes
_raři_, or other particles, must be added to the different persons.
Believe me, the learning of them is extremely tedious to Europeans, and
can only be effected by long acquaintance with these savages. Other
Americans also use these transitive verbs, but their form is the same,
whether mutual action or passion is expressed. Thus the Guaranies say,
_Ahaĭhù_, I love. _Orohaĭhù_, I love thee. _Ayukà_, I kill. _Oroyukà_, I
kill thee. _Amboé_, I teach. _Oromboe_, I teach thee, &c. What can be
easier or more expeditious than this?
They sometimes express the relative who, by _eknam_, or, in the plural
number, _enonam_, thus: _Dios eknam Kaogarik_: God who is the creator.
_Hemokáchin nauáchiekà, enonam yapochi_: I esteem soldiers who are
brave. Sometimes, in the manner of the Latins, they suppress the
relative who, and supply its place by a participle, or adjective.
_Riákayà netegingà oakaika, kach quenò ahamr̂aeka_: I abominate biting
and dead dogs.