Curious Ocean Experiences.--The Delicate
Nautilus.--Flying-Fish.--The Southern Cross.--Speaking a
Ship at Sea.--Scientific Navigation.--South America as a
Whole.--Fauna and Flora.--Natural Resources of a Wonderful
Land.--Rivers, Plains, and Mountain Ranges.--Aboriginal
Tribes.--Population.--Political Divisions.--Civil
Wars.--Weakness of South American States.
The sudden appearance of a school of flying-fish gliding swiftly through
the air for six or eight rods just above the rippling waves, and then
sinking from sight; the sportive escort of half a hundred slate-colored
porpoises, leaping high out of the water on either bow of the ship only
to plunge back again, describing graceful curves; the constant presence
of that sullen tiger of the ocean, the voracious, man-eating shark,
betrayed by its dorsal fin showing above the surface of the sea; the
sporting of mammoth whales, sending columns of water high in air from
their blowholes, and lashing the waves playfully with their broad-spread
tails, are events at sea too commonplace to comment upon in detail,
though they tend to while away the inevitable monotony of a long voyage.
Speaking of flying-fish, there is more in the flying capacity of this
little creature than is generally admitted, else why has it wings on the
forward part of its body, each measuring seven inches in length? If
designed only for fins, they are altogether out of proportion to the
rest of its body. They are manifestly intended for just the use to which
the creature puts them. One was brought to us by a seaman; how it got on
board we know not, but it measured eleven inches from the nose to the
tip of the tail fin, and was in shape and size very much like a small
mackerel. After leaving Barbadoes, we got into what sailors call the
flying-fish latitudes, where they appear constantly in their low, rapid
flight, sometimes singly, but oftener in small schools of a score or
more, creating flashes of silvery-blue lustre. The most careful
observation could detect no vibration of the long, extended fins; the
tiny fish sailed, as it were, upon the wind, the flight of the giant
albatross in miniature.
One afternoon, when the sea was scarcely dimpled by the soft trade wind,
we came suddenly upon myriads of that little fairy of the ocean, the
gossamer nautilus, with its Greek galleon shape, and as frail,
apparently, as a spider's web. What a gondola it would make for Queen
Mab! How delicate and transparent it is, while radiating prismatic
colors! A touch might dismember it, yet what a daring navigator,
floating confidently upon the sea where the depth is a thousand fathoms,
liable at any moment to be changed into raging billows by an angry
storm! How minute the vitality of this graceful atom, a creature whose
existence is perhaps for only a single day; yet how grand and limitless
the system of life and creation of which it is so humble a
representative! Sailors call these frail marine creatures Portuguese
men-of-war. Possessing some singular facility for doing so, if they are
disturbed, they quickly furl their sails and sink below the surface of
the buoyant waves into deep water, the home of the octopus, the squid,
and the voracious shark. Did they, one is led to query, navigate these
seas after this fashion before the Northmen came across the ocean, and
before Columbus landed at San Salvador? At night the glory of the
southern hemisphere, as revealed in new constellations and brighter
stars brought into view, was observed with keenest
interest,--"Everlasting Night, with her star diadems, with her silence,
and her verities." The phosphorescence of the sea, with its
scintillations of brilliant light, its ripples of liquid fire, the crest
of each wave a flaming cascade, was a charming phenomenon one never
tired of watching. If it be the combination of millions and billions of
animalculae which thus illumines the waters, then these infinitesimal
creatures are the fireflies of the ocean, as the cucuios, that fairy
torch-bearer, is of the land. Gliding on the magic mirror of the South
Atlantic, in which the combined glory of the sky was reflected with
singular clearness, it seemed as though we were sailing over a starry
world below.
While observing the moon in its beautiful series of changes, lighting
our way by its chaste effulgence night after night, it was difficult to
realize that it shines entirely by the light which it borrows from the
sun; but it was easy to believe the simpler fact, that of all the
countless hosts of the celestial bodies, she is our nearest neighbor.
"An eighteen-foot telescope reveals to the human eye over forty million
stars," said Captain Baker, as we stood together gazing at the luminous
heavens. "And if we entertain the generally accepted idea," he
continued, "we must believe that each one of that enormous aggregate of
stars is the centre of a solar system similar to our own." The known
facts relating to the stars, like stellar distances, are almost
incomprehensible.
One cannot but realize that there is always a certain amount of
sentiment wasted on the constellation known as the Southern Cross by
passengers bound to the lands and seas over which it hangs. Orion or the
Pleiades, either of them, is infinitely superior in point of brilliancy,
symmetry, and individuality. A lively imagination is necessary to endow
this irregular cluster of stars with any real resemblance to the
Christian emblem for which it is named. It serves the navigator in the
southern hemisphere, in part, the same purpose which the north star does
in our portion of the globe, and there our own respect for it as a
constellation ends. Much poetic talent has been expended for ages to
idealize the Southern Cross, which is, alas! no cross at all. We have
seen a person unfamiliar with the locality of this constellation strive
long and patiently, but in vain, to find it. It should be remembered
that two prominent stars in Centaurus point directly to it. The one
furthest from the so called cross is held to be the fixed star nearest
to the earth, but its distance from us is twenty thousand times farther
than that of the sun.
We have never yet met a person, looking upon this cluster of the heavens
for the first time, who did not frankly express his disappointment.
Anticipation and fruition are oftenest at antipodes.
The graceful marine birds which follow the ship, day after day, darting
hither and thither with arrowy swiftness, lured by the occasional refuse
thrown from on board, would be seriously missed were they to leave us.
Watching their aerial movements and untiring power of wing, while
listening to their sharp complaining cries, is a source of constant
amusement. Even rough weather and a raging sea, if not accompanied by
too serious a storm, is sometimes welcome, serving to awaken the ship
from its dull propriety, and to put officers, crew, and passengers upon
their mettle. To speak a strange vessel at sea is always interesting. If
it is a steamer, a long, black wake of smoke hanging among the clouds at
the horizon betrays her proximity long before the hull is sighted. All
eyes are on the watch until she comes clearly within the line of vision,
gradually increasing in size and distinctness of outline, until
presently the spars and rigging are minutely delineated. Then
speculation is rife as to whence she comes and where she is going. By
and by the two ships approach so near that signal flags can be read, and
the captains talk with each other, exchanging names, whither bound, and
so on. Then each commander dips his flag in compliment to the other, and
the ships rapidly separate. All of this is commonplace enough, but
serves to while away an hour, and insures a report of our progress and
safety at the date of meeting, when the stranger reaches his port of
destination.
We have spoken of the pleasure experienced at sea in watching
intelligently the various phases of the moon. The subject is a prolific
one; a whole chapter might be written upon it.
It is perhaps hardly realized by the average landsman, and indeed by few
who constantly cross the ocean, with their thoughts and interests
absorbed by the many attractive novelties of the ocean, how important a
part this great luminary plays in the navigation of a ship. It is to the
intelligent and observant mariner the never-failing watch of the sky,
the stars performing the part of hands to designate the proper figure
upon the dial. If there is occasion to doubt the correctness of his
chronometer, the captain of the ship can verify its figures or correct
them by this planet. Every minute that the chronometer is wrong,
assuming that it be so, may put him fifteen miles out of his reckoning,
which, under some circumstances, might prove to be a fatal error, even
leading to the loss of his ship and all on board. To find his precise
location upon the ocean, the navigator requires both Greenwich time and
local meridian time, the latter obtained by the sun on shipboard,
exactly at midday. To get Greenwich time by lunar observation, the
captain, for example, finds that the moon is three degrees from the star
Regulus. By referring to his nautical almanac he sees recorded there the
Greenwich time at which the moon was three degrees from that particular
star. He then compares his chronometer with these figures, and either
confirms or corrects its indication. It is interesting to the traveler
to observe and understand these important resources, which science has
brought to bear in perfecting his safety on the ocean, promoting the
interests of commerce, and in aid of correct navigation. The experienced
captain of a ship now lays his course as surely by compass, after
satisfying himself by these various means of his exact position, as
though the point of his destination was straight before him all the
while, and visible from the pilot house.
How indescribable is the grandeur of these serene nights on the ocean,
fanned by the somnolent trade winds; a little lonely, perhaps, but so
blessed with the hallowed benediction of the moonlight, so gorgeously
decorated by the glittering images of the studded heavens, so sweet and
pure and fragrant is the breath of the sleeping wind! If one listens
intently, there seems to come to the senses a whispering of the waves,
as though the sea in confidence would tell its secrets to a willing ear.
The ship heads almost due south after leaving Barbadoes, when her
destination is, as in our case, Para, twelve hundred miles away. On this
course we encounter the equatorial current, which runs northward at a
rate of two miles in an hour, and at some points reaches a much higher
rate of speed.
As eternal vigilance is the price of liberty, so eternal scrubbing is
the price of cleanliness on shipboard. The deck hands are at it from
five o'clock in the morning until sunset. Our good ship looks as if she
had just come out of dock. Last night's gale, which in its angry turmoil
tossed us about so recklessly, covered her with a saline, sticky
deposit; but with the rising of the sun all this disappears as if by
magic. The many brass mountings shine with dazzling lustre, and the
white paint contrasts with the well-tarred cordage which forms the
standing rigging.
While the ship pursues her course through the far-reaching ocean, let us
sketch in outline the general characteristics of South America, whither
we are bound.
It is a country containing twice the area, though not quite one half the
amount of population, of the United States, a land which, though now
presenting nearly all phases of civilization, was four centuries ago
mostly inhabited by nomadic tribes of savages, who knew nothing of the
horse, the ox, or the sheep, which to-day form so great and important a
source of its wealth, and where wheat, its prevailing staple, was also
unknown. It is a land overflowing with native riches, which possesses an
unlimited capacity of production, and whose large and increasing
population requires just such domestic supplies as we of the north can
profitably furnish. The important treaty of reciprocity, so lately
arranged between the giant province of Brazil--or rather we should say
the Republic of Brazil--and our own country, is already developing new
and increasing channels of trade for our shippers and producers of the
great staples, as well as throwing open to us a new nation of consumers
for our special articles of manufacture. Facts speak louder than words.
On the voyage in which the author sailed in the Vigilancia, she took
over twenty thousand barrels of flour to Brazil from the United States,
and would have taken more had her capacity admitted. Every foot of space
on board was engaged for the return voyage, twelve thousand bags of
coffee being shipped from Rio Janeiro alone, besides nearly as large a
consignment of coffee from Santos, in the same republic. The great
mutual benefit which must accrue from this friendly compact with an
enterprising foreign country can hardly be overestimated. These
considerations lead to a community of interests, which will grow by
every reasonable means of familiarizing the people of the two countries
with each other. Hence the possible and practical value of such a work
as the one in hand.
By briefly consulting one of the many cheap and excellent maps of the
western hemisphere, the patient reader will be enabled to follow the
route taken by the author with increased interest and a clearer
understanding.
It is surprising, in conversing with otherwise intelligent and
well-informed people, to find how few there are, comparatively speaking,
who have any fixed and clear idea relative to so large a portion of the
habitable globe as South America. The average individual seems to know
less of the gigantic river Amazon than he does of the mysterious Nile,
and is less familiar with that grand, far-reaching water-way, the Plate,
than he is with the sacred Ganges; yet one can ride from Buenos Ayres in
the Argentine Republic, across the wild pampas, to the base of the Andes
in a Pullman palace car. There is no part of the globe concerning which
so little is written, and no other portion which is not more sought by
travelers; in short, it is less known to the average North American than
New Zealand or Australia.
The vast peninsula which we call South America is connected with our own
part of the continent by the Isthmus of Panama and the territory
designated as Central America. Its configuration is triangular, and
exhibits in many respects a strong similarity to the continents of
Africa and Australia, if the latter gigantic island may be called a
continent. It extends north and south nearly five thousand miles, or
from latitude 12 deg. 30' north to Cape Horn in latitude 55 deg. 59' south. Its
greatest width from east to west is a little over three thousand miles,
and its area, according to the best authorities, is nearly seven million
square miles. Three fourths of this country lie in the torrid zone,
though as a whole it has every variety of climate, from equatorial heat
to the biting frosts of alpine peaks. Its widespread surface consists
principally of three immense plains, watered respectively by the Amazon,
Plate, and Orinoco rivers. This spacious country has a coast line of
over sixteen thousand miles on the two great oceans, with comparatively
few indentures, headlands, or bays, though at the extreme south it
consists of a maze of countless small islands, capes, and promontories,
of which Cape Horn forms the outermost point.
The Cordillera of the Andes extends through the whole length of this
giant peninsula, from the Strait of Magellan to the Isthmus of Panama, a
distance of forty-five hundred miles, forming one of the most remarkable
physical features of the globe, and presenting the highest mountains on
its surface, except those of the snowy Himalayas which separate India
from Thibet. The principal range of the Andes runs nearly parallel with
the Pacific coast, at an average distance of about one hundred miles
from it, and contains several active volcanoes. If we were to believe a
late school geography, published in London, Cotopaxi, one famous peak of
this Andean range, throws up flames three thousand feet above the brink
of its crater, which is eighteen thousand feet above tide water; but to
be on the safe side, let us reduce these extraordinary figures at least
one half, as regards the eruptive power of Cotopaxi. This mountain
chain, near the border between Chili and Peru, divides into two
branches, the principal one still called the Cordillera of the Andes,
and the other, nearer to the ocean, the Cordillera de la Costa. Between
these ranges, about three thousand feet above the sea, is a vast
table-land with an area larger than that of France.
It will be observed that we are dealing with a country which, like our
own, is one of magnificent distances. It is difficult for the nations of
the old world, where the population is hived together in such
circumscribed space, to realize the geographical extent of the American
continent. When informed that it required six days and nights, at
express speed upon well-equipped railroads, to cross the United States
from ocean to ocean, a certain editor in London doubted the statement.
Outside of Her Majesty's dominions, the average Englishman has only
superficial ideas of geography. The frequent blunders of some British
newspapers in these matters are simply ridiculous.
It should be understood that South America is a land of plains as well
as of lofty mountains, having the _llanos_ of the Orinoco region, the
_selvas_ of the Amazon, and the _pampas_ of the Argentine Republic. The
llanos are composed of a region about as large as the New England
States, so level that the motion of the rivers can hardly be discerned.
The selvas are for the most part vast unbroken forests, in which giant
trees, thick undergrowth, and entwining creepers combine to form a
nearly impenetrable region. The pampas lie between the Andes and the
Atlantic Ocean, stretching southward from northern Brazil to southern
Patagonia, affording grass sufficient to feed innumerable herds of wild
cattle, but at the extreme south the country sinks into half overflowed
marshes and lagoons, resembling the glades and savannahs of Florida.
The largest river in the world, namely, the Amazon, rises in the
Peruvian Andes, within sixty miles of the Pacific Ocean, and flows
thousands of miles in a general east-northeast direction, finally
emptying into the Atlantic Ocean. This unequaled river course is
navigable for over two thousand miles from its mouth, which is situated
on the equatorial line, where its outflow is partially impeded by the
island of Marajo, a nearly round formation, one hundred and fifty miles
or thereabouts in diameter. This remarkable island divides the river's
outlet into two passages, the largest of which is a hundred and fifty
miles in width, forming an estuary of extraordinary dimensions. The
Amazon has twelve tributaries, each one of which is a thousand miles in
length, not to count its hundreds of smaller ones, while the main stream
affords water communication from the Atlantic Ocean to near the
foothills of the Andes.
We are simply stating a series of condensed geographical facts, from
which the intelligent reader can form his own deductions as regards the
undeveloped possibilities of this great southland.
Our own mammoth river, the Mississippi, is a comparatively shallow
stream, with a shifting channel and dangerous sandbanks, which impede
navigation throughout the most of its course; while the Amazon shows an
average depth of over one hundred feet for the first thousand miles of
its flow from the Atlantic, forming inland seas in many places, so
spacious that the opposite banks are not within sight of each other. It
is computed by good authority that this river, with its numerous
affluents, forms a system of navigable water twenty-four thousand miles
in length! There are comparatively few towns or settlements of any
importance on the banks of the Amazon, which flows mostly through a
dense, unpeopled evergreen forest, not absolutely without human beings,
but for very long distances nearly so. Wild animals, anacondas and other
reptiles, together with many varieties of birds and numerous tribes of
monkeys, make up the animal life. Now and again a settlement of European
colonists is found, or a rude Indian village is seen near the banks, but
they are few and far between. There are occasional regions of low,
marshy ground, which are malarious at certain seasons, but the average
country is salubrious, and capable of supporting a population of
millions.
This is only one of the large rivers of South America; there are many
others of grand proportions. The Plate comes next to it in magnitude,
having a length of two thousand miles, and being navigable for one half
the distance from its mouth at all seasons. It is over sixty miles wide
at Montevideo, and is therefore the widest known river. Like the great
stream already described, it traverses a country remarkable for the
fertility of its soil, but very thinly settled. The Plate carries to the
ocean four fifths as much, in volume of water, as does the mighty
Amazon, the watershed drained by it exceeding a million and a half
square miles. One can only conceive of the true magnitude of such
figures when applied to the land by comparing the number of square miles
contained in any one European nation, or any dozen of our own States.
Juan Diaz de Solis discovered the estuary of the Plate in 1508, and
believed it at that time to be a gulf, but on a second voyage from
Europe, in 1516, he ascended the river a considerable distance, and
called it Mar Dulce, on account of the character of the waters.
Unfortunately, this intelligent discoverer was killed by Indian arrows
on attempting to land at a certain point. For a considerable period the
river was called after him, and we think should have continued to be so,
but its name was changed to the Plate on account of the conspicuous
silver ornaments worn in great profusion by the natives, which they
freely exchanged for European gewgaws.
Though nearly four hundred years have passed since its discovery, a
large portion of the country still remains comparatively unexplored,
much of it being a wilderness sparsely inhabited by Indians, many of
whom are without a vestige of civilization. We know as little of
portions of the continent as we do of Central Africa, yet there is no
section of the globe which suggests a greater degree of physical
interest, or which would respond more readily and profitably to
intelligent effort at development. When the Spaniards first came to
South America, it was only in Peru, the land of the Incas, that they
found natives who had made any substantial progress in civilization. The
earliest history extant relating to this region of the globe is that of
the Incas, a warlike race of sun-worshipers, who possessed enormous
treasures of gold and silver, and who erected magnificent temples
enriched with the precious metals. It was the almost fabulous wealth of
the Incas that led to their destruction, tempting the cupidity of the
avaricious Spaniards, and causing them to institute a system of cruelty,
oppression, robbery, and bloodshed which finally obliterated an entire
people from the face of the globe. The empire of the Incas extended from
Quito, in Ecuador (on the equator), to the river Monte in Chili, and
eastward to the Andes. The romantic career of Pizarro and Cortez is
familiar to us all. There are few palliating circumstances connected
with the advent of the Spaniards, either here, in the West Indies, or in
Mexico. The actual motive which prompted their invasion of this foreign
soil was to search for mineral treasures, though policy led them to
cover their bloodthirsty deeds with a pretense of religious zeal. Their
first acts were reckless, cruel, and sanguinary, followed by a
systematic oppression of the native races which was an outrage upon
humanity. The world at large profited little by the extortion and golden
harvest reaped by Spain, to realize which she adopted a policy of
extermination, both in Peru and in Mexico; but let it be remembered that
her own national ruin was brought about with poetical justice by the
very excess of her ill-gotten, blood-stained treasures. The Spanish
historians tell us, as an evidence of the persistent bravery of their
ancestors, that it took them eight hundred years of constant warfare to
wrest Spain from her Moorish conquerors. It is for us to remind them how
brief has been the continuance of their glory, how rapid their decline
from splendid continental and colonial possessions to their present
condition, that of the weakest and most insignificant power in Europe.
There are localities which have been visited by adventurous explorers,
especially in Chili and Peru, where ruins have been found, and various
monuments of antiquity examined, of vast interest to archaeologists, but
of which scarcely more than their mere existence is recorded. Some of
these ruins are believed to antedate by centuries the period of the
Incas, and are supposed to be the remains of tribes which, judging from
their pottery and other domestic utensils, were possibly of Asiatic
origin. Comparatively few travelers have visited Lake Titicaca, in the
Peruvian Andes, with its sacred islands and mysterious ruins, from
whence the Incas dated their mythical origin. The substantial remains of
some grand temples are still to be seen on the islands near the borders
of the lake, the decaying masonry decked here and there with a wild
growth of hardy cactus. This remarkable body of water, Lake Titicaca, in
the mountain range of Peru, lies more than twelve thousand feet above
the level of the Pacific; yet it never freezes, and its average depth is
given as six hundred feet, representing an immense body of water. It
covers an area of four thousand square miles, which is about four fifths
as large as our own Lake Ontario, the average depth being about the
same. Titicaca is the largest lake in the world occupying so elevated a
site.
The population of South America is mostly to be found on the coast, and
is thought to be about thirty-five millions, though, all things
considered, we are disposed to believe this an overestimate. There are
tribes far inland who are not brought in contact with civilization at
all, and whose numbers are not known. The magnitude and density of the
forests are remarkable; they cover, it is intelligently stated, nearly
two thirds of the country. The vegetation, in its various forms, is rich
beyond comparison. Professor Agassiz, who explored the valley of the
Amazon under the most favorable auspices, tells us that he found within
an area of half a mile square over one hundred species of trees, among
which were nearly all of the choicest cabinet and dye woods known to the
tropics, besides others suitable for shipbuilding. Some of these trees
are remarkable for their gigantic size, others for their beauty of form,
and still others are valuable for their gums and resins. Of the latter,
the india-rubber tree is the most prolific and important known to
commerce. From Brazil comes four fifths of the world's supply of the raw
material of rubber.
The great fertility of the soil generally would seem to militate against
the true progress of the people of South America, absolutely
discouraging, rather than stimulating national industry. One cannot but
contrast the state of affairs in this respect with that of North
America, where the soil is so much less productive, and where the
climate is so universally rigorous. The deduction is inevitable that, to
find man at his best, we must observe him where his skill, energy, and
perseverance are all required to achieve a livelihood, and not where
exuberant nature is over-indulgent, over-productive. The coast, the
valleys, and indeed the main portion of South America are tropical, but
a considerable section of the country is so elevated that its climate is
that of perpetual spring, resembling the great Mexican plateau, both
physically and as regards temperature. The population is largely of
Spanish descent, and that language is almost universally spoken, though
Portuguese is the current tongue in Brazil. These languages are so
similar, in fact, that the people of the two nations can easily
understand each other. It is said to be true that, in the wild regions
of the country, there are tribes of Indians found to-day living close to
each other, separated by no physical barriers, who differ materially in
language, physiognomy, manners, and customs, having absolutely nothing
in common but their brown or copper colored skins. Furthermore, these
tribes live most frequently in deadly feuds with each other. That
cannibalism is still practiced among these interior tribes is positively
believed, especially among some of the tribes of the extreme south, that
is, among the Patagonians and the wild, nomadic race of Terra del Fuego.
These two tribes, on opposite sides of the Strait of Magellan, are quite
different from each other in nearly every respect, especially in size,
nor will they attempt to hold friendly intercourse of any sort with each
other.
There are certain domestic animals which are believed to be improved by
crossing them with others of a different type, but this does not seem to
apply, very often, advantageously to different races of human beings. It
is plain enough in South America that the amalgamation of foreigners and
natives rapidly effaces the original better qualities of each, the
result being a mongrel, nondescript type, hard to analyze and hard to
improve. That keen observer, Professor Agassiz, especially noticed this
during his year of scientific research in Brazil. This has also been the
author's experience, as illustrated in many lands, where strictly
different races, the one highly civilized, the other barbarian, have
unitedly produced children. It is a sort of amalgamation which nature
does not favor, recording her objections in an unmistakable manner. It
is the flow of European emigration towards these southern republics
which will infuse new life and progress among them. The aboriginal race
is slowly receding, and fading out, as was the case in Australia, in New
Zealand, and in the instance of our western Indians. A new people will
eventually possess the land, composed of the several European
nationalities, who are already the virtual masters of South America so
far as regards numbers, intelligence, and possession.
Since these notes were written, the Argentine government has sold to
Baron Hirsch three thousand square leagues of land in the province of
Chaco, for the formation of a Jewish colony. Agents are already at work,
aided by competent engineers and practical individuals, in preparing for
the early reception of the new occupants of the country. The first
contingent, of about one thousand Jews, have already arrived and are
becoming domesticated. Argentina wants men perhaps more than money;
indeed, one will make the other. A part of Baron Hirsch's scheme is to
lend these people money, to be repaid in small installments extending
over a considerable period. For this extensive territory the Baron paid
one million three hundred thousand dollars in gold, thus making himself
the owner of the largest connected area of land in the world possessed
by a single individual. It exceeds that of the kingdom of Montenegro.
As to the zooelogy of this part of the continent, it is different from
that of Europe, Africa, Asia, and North America. The number of dangerous
beasts of prey is quite limited. There is nothing here to answer to the
African lion, the Asiatic tiger, the elephant of Ceylon, or the grisly
bear of Alaska. The jaguar is perhaps the most formidable animal, and
resembles the leopard. There are also the cougar, tiger-cat, black bear,
hyena, wolf, and ocelot. The llama, alpaca, and vicuna are peculiar to
this country. The monkey tribe exceeds all others in variety and number.
There are said to be nearly two hundred species of them in South
America, each distinctly marked, and varying from each other, in size,
from twelve pounds to less than two. The smallest of the little
marmosets weigh less than a pound and a half each, and are the most
intelligent animal of their size known to man. There are also the deer,
tapir, armadillo, anteater, and a few other minor animals. The pampas
swarm with wild cattle and horses, descended from animals originally
brought from Europe. In the low, marshy grounds the boa-constrictor and
other reptiles abound. Eagles, vultures, and parrots are found in a wild
state all over the country, while the rivers and the waters near the
coast are well filled with fish, crocodiles, and turtles. Scientists
have found over two thousand species of fish in the Amazon River alone.
The pure aboriginal race are copper colored, resembling the Mexicans in
character and appearance. Like most natives of equatorial regions, they
are indolent, ignorant, superstitious, sensuous, and by no means
warlike. Forced into the ranks and drilled by Europeans, they make
fairly good soldiers, and when well led will obey orders and fight.
There can be no _esprit de corps_ in soldiers thus organized; the men
neither know nor care what they fight for, their incentive in action
being first a natural instinct for brutality, and second the promise of
booty. In some parts of the country the half-breeds show themselves
skillful workmen in certain simple lines of manufacture, but the native
pure and simple will not work except to keep from starving.
The Spaniards conquered nearly all parts of South America except Brazil,
which was subject to Portugal until 1823, when it achieved its
independence. The Spanish colonies also revolted, one by one, until they
all became independent of the mother country. The history of these
republics, as in the instance of Mexico, has been both stormy and
sanguinary. Foreign and civil wars have reigned among them incessantly
for half a century and more.
The present political divisions are: Brazil, British Guiana, Dutch
Guiana, French Guiana, Ecuador, United States of Colombia, Venezuela,
Bolivia, Chili, Peru, Argentine Republic, Uruguay, and Paraguay. Brazil
is the most extensive of these states, and is thought to enjoy the
largest share of natural advantages, including in its area nearly one
half as many square miles as all the rest combined. Its seaboard at
Parahiba, and for hundreds of miles north and south of it, projects into
the Atlantic a thousand miles to the east of the direct line between its
northern and southern extremities. Besides her diamond and gold mines,
she possesses what is much more desirable, namely, valuable deposits of
iron, copper, silver, and other metals. We have before us statistics
which give the result of diamond mining in Brazil from 1740 to 1823,
when national independence was won, which show the aggregate for that
entire period to have been less than ten million dollars in value; while
that of the coffee alone, exported from Rio Janeiro in one year,
exceeded twenty million dollars, showing that, however dazzling the
precious stones may appear in the abstract, they are not even of
secondary consideration when compared with the agricultural products of
the country. The export of coffee has increased very much since the year
1851, which happens to be that from which we have quoted. It must also
be admitted that probably twice the amount of diamonds recorded were
actually found and enriched somebody, all which were duly reported,
having to pay a government royalty according to the pecuniary exigency
of those in authority.
The population of Brazil is between fourteen and fifteen million, and it
is thought to be more advanced in civilization than other parts of South
America, though in the light of our own experience we should place the
Argentine Republic first in this respect. Indeed, so far as a transient
observer may speak, we are inclined to place Argentina far and away in
advance of Brazil as regards everything calculated to invite the
would-be emigrant who is in search of a new home in a foreign land. Were
it not that intestine wars are of such frequent occurrence among these
states, and national bankruptcy so common, voluntary emigration would
tend towards South America in far larger numbers than it does now. The
revolutions are solely to promote personal aggrandizement; it is
individual interest, not principle, for which these people fight so
often. Unfortunately, every fresh outbreak throws the country back a
full decade as regards national progress. The late civil wars in Chili
and the Argentine Republic are illustrations in point. The first-named
section of South America has suddenly sunk from a condition of
remarkable pecuniary prosperity to one of actual poverty. Thousands of
valuable lives have been sacrificed, an immense amount of property has
been destroyed, her commerce crippled, and for the time being paralyzed.
Ten years of peace and reasonable prosperity could hardly restore Chili
to the position she was in twelve months ago. The country is to-day in a
terrible condition, while many of the best families mourn the death of a
father, a son, or both, whose lives have been sacrificed to the mad
ambition of a usurper. Numerous families, once rich, have now become
impoverished by the confiscation of their entire property. The Chilians
do not carry on warfare in European style, by organized armies; there is
a semblance only of such bodies. The fighting is mostly after the
fashion of free lances, guerrilla bands, and highwaymen. There seems to
be no sense of honor or chivalry among the common people, while the only
idea of the soldiery is to plunder and destroy.
The Peruvians whose cities were despoiled by Chili must have regarded
the recent cutting of each other's throats by the Chilian soldiery with
something like grim satisfaction.
The obvious weakness of the South American states lies in their bitter
rivalry towards each other, a condition which might be at once obviated
by their joining together to form one united nation. The instability
which characterizes their several governments in their present isolated
interests has passed into a byword. Divided into nine unimportant
states,--leaving out the three Guianas, which are dependent upon
European powers,--any one of them could be erased from the map and
absorbed by its stronger neighbor, or by a covetous foreign power. On
the contrary, by forming one grand republic, it would stand eighth in
the rank of nations as regards wealth, importance, and power, amply able
to take care of itself, and to maintain the integrity of its territory.
A community of interest would also be established between our government
and that of these South American provinces, which would be of immense
commercial and political importance to both nations.
To those who have visited the country, and who have carefully observed
the conditions, it is clear that this division of the continent will
never thrive and fully reap the benefit of its great natural advantages
until the independent republics assume the position of sovereign states,
subservient to a central power, a purpose which has already been so
successfully accomplished in Mexico.
While we have been considering the great southern continent as a whole,
our good ship, having crossed the equator, has been rapidly approaching
its northern shore. After entering the broad mouth of the Amazon and
ascending its course for many miles, we are now in sight of the thriving
metropolis of Para.