THE WONDERS OF THE RIVER.
Marvellous as the Apure river is in point of living creatures, it is
nothing in comparison with the Orinoco, into which it flows, and the
Amazon river, that connects with the Orinoco through the Casiquiare and
Rio Negro. The recent explorations of Professor Agassiz in the Amazon,
and the former researches of Wallace on the latter river, prove, I hope
conclusively, that my statements concerning the fishes of these regions
are far below the mark in point of numbers, and that there is _no end_
to the varieties. Wallace, who spent nearly four years on the Rio Negro
collecting objects of natural history for the British Museum, and whose
principal fare consisted of the fish caught by his men, tells us, “I
began now to take a great interest in the beauty and variety of the
species, and, whenever I could, I made accurate drawings and
descriptions of them. Many are of a most excellent flavor, surpassing
anything I have tasted in England, either from the fresh or the salt
waters; and many species have real fat, which renders the water they are
boiled in a rich and agreeable broth. Not a drop of this is wasted, but,
with a little pepper and _farinha_, is all consumed, with as much relish
as if it were the most delicate soup.”[49]
And Agassiz, in his interesting lectures on the same subject, says:
“Now, what are the fishes which inhabit the Amazon? for I wanted to say
all this simply as a preparation to give you some definite idea of the
various types of fish which we find in that mighty basin. Not one of
those fishes with which we are familiar in our rivers is to be found
there; not one of those which are known in the rivers of Europe is to be
found there; not one from any other fresh water basin is to be found
there. The Amazon has fishes of its own, utterly different from those of
any other basin, and these fishes are different from those in all other
fresh water rivers of Brazil, and in each part of the Amazon there are
fish of a peculiar character, so that those which inhabit the lower
course of the Amazon differ from those found in the upper. So great is
the variety, that in small lakes of water, at parts of the Amazon, we
find an endless variety. I examined a little lake, just at the junction
of the Rio Negro with the Amazon. The lake was only a few hundred yards
in extent, and in that pool, for it was hardly anything more, I found in
the course of two months over two hundred different kinds of fish, and
three times larger than can be found in the Mississippi or in the
Senegal or Ganges or Nile. The number of fish found in the whole basin
of the Amazon is not less than two thousand different kinds, that is,
ten times as many as were known about a century ago to exist in the
whole world. And strange to say, it would seem that, in proportion as we
become acquainted with a larger number of these animals they should be
found to resemble one another more and more. On the contrary, however,
such are the peculiarities of their features, such is the infinite
number of circumstances which brings about differences among them, that
in proportion as I find a larger and larger number, I find the
difference between them seems to grow, and though it appears
paradoxical, it is strictly true.”
And returning now to the Orinoco, the good missionary and
historiographer of that noble river, Father Gumilla, tells us that “So
great is the multitude of fishes and turtles, that the slime, excrements
and continual blood shed by those which devour or wound each other, is
the principal cause of the heaviness and bad taste of the water of the
Orinoco, which is also the case in some of the rivers of Hungary, and
can be more readily perceived in basins or reservoirs devoted to the
preservation of live fish, where the water soon becomes tainted and
unpalatable, although it may go in and out freely.
“What astonishes still more is the novelty of the species and curious
shapes of these fishes, so different from those of our Europe, for not
even the sardinas have the flavor nor the shape of these. All that we
can say, after a careful examination of these fishes, is, this one
resembles somewhat the trout, that one the sole, etc.; but no one can
say with certainty this is like any in Europe. But what of it, when it
is a fact that the fish found in the waters of the _tierra caliente_ are
totally different from those of the _tierra fria_?”
Of the modes of fishing practised by the Indians of his Mission, he also
tells us many curious devices. “Observe,” he says, “those four canoes,
manned by the boys of the Doctrina, and darting side by side along the
river; well, this is the most novel and the most curious mode of fishing
ever devised, as the fishes here called Bocachicos, Palometas, Lizas,
Sardinas, and many other kinds of smaller fry, jump of their own accord
into the canoes in such quantities that, were not the paddlers expert
enough and their craft propelled with such rapidity, these would soon
fill up and sink with the weight of the fish that fall in them; for each
kind has its proper season for spawning, and with the object of saving
some of their ova to multiply their species, they have been taught by
the Supreme Author of Nature to quit their haunts and seek some
convenient eddy, where, placing their tails against the current, they
receive in their gills the little eggs which may chance to fall in them;
and these are the only ones saved, the rest being devoured by other
fishes, whose numbers at and near these currents is immense, one shoal
crowding on the top of another.”
In the rivers and streams of minor importance, where fish are not so
abundant, the natives, by way of pastime, and also to vary their fare,
avail themselves of the roots of two plants--the _cuna_ and the
_barbasco_,[50] both of which possess the singular peculiarity of
intoxicating fish, even when the smallest quantity of the juice of the
roots is thrown in the stream, producing such commotion among the finny
inhabitants, that they fall an easy prey to the Indians, who take a
special delight in this wholesale slaughter. The _cuna_ is a small
plant, somewhat like clover, producing a bulbous root like a small
turnip, but with very different smell and taste, and the _barbasco_, a
vine, very common in all parts of the country, and although both are
exceedingly deleterious to fish, they are not so to other creatures. The
process is very simple: A quantity of the roots or vines is slightly
pounded with a wooden mallet and thrown in the water, and no sooner do
the fish perceive the smell of it, than they rush frantically up and
down the stream to avoid its contact; those which take the former course
find their progress arrested by a file of Indians, who, armed with
poles, beat about the water to turn them back, which they quickly do,
but only to find their retreat cut off in that direction too, for their
cunning assailants have already taken the precaution to bar the stream
with a double row of stakes, the lower one higher than the upper. Not
discouraged in the least, the larger and stronger fish make another rush
up the stream; but no sooner do they come in contact with the noxious
herb than they retreat again towards the barricade, and here,
redoubling their energies, leap over the first row of stakes, and thus
find themselves entrapped within the narrow limits of the stockade. In
the meantime the smaller fish, having neither the strength nor the
courage to save themselves, become thoroughly intoxicated with the
juices already disseminated in the water, and fall an easy prey to the
joyous urchins, who pounce upon them, and transfer them to the baskets
they carry for the purpose. This is a very amusing mode of fishing, and
during the excitement produces much merriment among the Indians; now a
fish slaps a redskin on the face with its tail; another one strikes
against the bare ribs of some one else, which never fails to draw peals
of laughter from their companions, who, in turn, become themselves the
laughing-stock of the others from similar mishaps.
But the most amusing contrivance practised by these people with the
_cuna_ is the following: An Indian takes a quantity of boiled maize and
grinds it to paste; one half of it is thoroughly incorporated with the
_cuna_, while the other half he reserves as a decoy to attract the fish
to a particular spot: he then calls his children, who, armed with
baskets, follow their father to the stream; here the fisherman commences
to throw small pellets of the unprepared paste in the water, which never
fails to attract great numbers of sardines, palometas, and other
delicacies, and changing suddenly his tactics, he exchanges the harmless
bait for the other, which no sooner is swallowed by the fish, than they
commence to turn somersaults in the air, with other antics no less
amusing to the boys, who as quickly transfer them to their baskets. It
is almost incredible the amount of fish that is thus procured in a short
time, enabling a poor Indian not only to supply the wants of his family,
but to afford his children a lively recreation.
Still another mode of fishing, equally ingenious, is practised by the
Indians when the waters commence to ebb towards the Orinoco at the end
of the great floods, by means of strong stockades thrown across the
outlet of the great lagunas, which are the receptacle of immense
quantity of larger game, such as turtles and vagres (species of catfish)
weighing from fifty to seventy-five pounds; laulaus or valentones, from
two hundred and fifty to three hundred pounds; and above all,
innumerable manatís, from five hundred to one thousand pounds. European
Spaniards call this animal _Vaca Marina_, or sea cow, and the Brazilians
_Peixe Boi_, ox-fish, from its feeding on grass, and other peculiarities
which assimilate it to the bovine species. The manatí abounds in the
Apure, the Meta, and most of the large tributaries of the Orinoco below
the cataracts, and more especially in the lagoons formed by these rivers
during the season of great floods, which he prefers on account of the
abundant and tender food they offer them. Of this the astute Indians
avail themselves to entrap them, as no sooner do the waters commence to
fall than they watch attentively the channel through which the lake they
have chosen as a fish-magazine--for no better name can be applied, from
the finny multitude they secure there for months--is likely to drain
off. To this spot resort the entire population of the village or tribe,
who immediately commence to cut stakes of the requisite length and of
great thickness, to resist the onset of the formidable phalanxes of
monster fishes seeking a passage to the river. The stakes are then
driven in the bed of the channel close enough to permit only the exit of
the water and of the smaller fish, excluding the turtles and the fish of
greater magnitude. The stockade is further reinforced by cross-beams of
great strength thrown across the channel, firmly secured at both ends,
and resting against the stakes; and for greater security they further
strengthen them by an outer row of trunks of trees driven in the ground
close to the stockade. It may appear superfluous to take such
precautions against the apparently defenceless hosts imprisoned within
the boundaries of the lagoon; but so great and powerful are in fact the
avalanches of manatís struggling against this formidable barrier, that
it is often found necessary to reinforce it twice, and even three times
in the course of the season.
Indeed it is scarcely credible, the number and size of the creatures
secured in this manner, whole tribes of Indians subsisting for months
together on the supply afforded by one of these reservoirs; but as these
lagoons eventually drain off towards the close of the rainy season, and
the Indians cannot exhaust them in spite of their insatiate voracity,
they are compelled at last, though reluctantly, to remove the
obstruction in time to allow the fish to return to the bed of the
stream before they are cut off from it; and it is asserted that on one
occasion, having neglected this precaution in time, more than three
thousand manatís, and a still greater number of large fish, perished in
the shallow water of one of these lagoons, with the exception only of
the turtles, who were, of course, in their element.
The manatí is a _herbivorous_ animal of the cetaceous family, of which
the whale is the type, and attains here from twelve to fifteen feet in
length. Some are caught that weigh over a thousand pounds. In shape it
resembles a seal somewhat, though its eyes and auricular organs are
extremely small, but very acute, so much so that great care is required
on the part of the fisherman who goes in pursuit of it, not to strike
the sides of his canoe with the paddle and frighten the game off. Its
principal means of propulsion exist in its tail, which is flat and
round, from three to four feet broad, and very powerful; but it
possesses in addition two pectoral fins, or armlets, situated at a
proportionate distance from the head, and these enable the animal to
come out of the water to browse on the rich herbage by the banks of
rivers and lagoons: these armlets serve the female, in addition, to hold
its young--always two in number, male and female--close to its breasts,
until they are old enough to follow the mother and eat grass, their only
food; and it is a curious fact, that although the mother often
delights--as is the habit of these cetacea--in gambols in the water,
when they sometimes jump several feet out of their element, they never
lose hold of their twins.
The anatomy of this fresh-water whale is very curious, according to
Humboldt, who dissected one while on his way to the Orinoco. “The upper
lip was four inches longer than the lower one. It was covered with a
very fine skin, and served as a proboscis. The inside of the mouth,
which has a _sensible_ warmth in the animal newly killed, presented a
very singular conformation. The tongue was almost motionless; but in
front of the tongue there was a fleshy excrescence in each jaw, and a
cavity lined with a very hard skin, into which the excrescence fitted.
The manatí eats such quantities of grass that we have found its stomach,
which is divided into several cavities, and its intestines (one hundred
and eight feet long) filled with it. Opening the animal at the back, we
were struck with the magnitude, form, and situation of its lungs. They
have very large cells, and resemble immense swimming-bladders. They are
three feet long; filled with air, they have a bulk of more than a
thousand cubic inches. I was surprised to see that, possessing such
receptacles of air, the manatí comes so often to the surface of the
water to breathe. Its flesh is very savory, though, from what prejudice
I know not, it is considered unhealthy and apt to produce fever. It
appeared to me to resemble pork rather than beef. It is most esteemed by
the Guamos and Ottomacs; and these two nations are particularly expert
in catching the manatí. The fat of the animal, known by the name of
manatí-butter (_manteca de manatí_) is used for lamps in the churches,
and is also employed in preparing food. It has not the fetid smell of
whale oil, or that of the other cetaceous animals which spout water.
The hide of the manatí, which is more than an inch and a half in
thickness, is cut into slips, and serves, like thongs of ox-leather, to
supply the place of cordage in the Llanos. When immersed in water, it
has the defect of undergoing a slight degree of putrefaction. Whips are
made from it in the Spanish colonies. Hence the words _latigo_ and
_manatí_ are synonymous. These whips of manatí leather are a cruel
instrument of punishment for the unhappy slaves, and even for the
Indians of the Missions, though, according to the laws, the latter ought
to be treated like freemen.”
The address displayed by an Indian of the Orinoco in capturing with the
harpoon one of these monsters and bringing it into port, with only the
assistance of his wife to paddle and steer the frail canoe, is most
wonderful. While the woman propels the canoe, the man stands erect at
the bow, watching intently the moment when the manatí comes up to the
surface to breathe, which it does every few minutes. Off flies the
double-barbed harpoon from the hands of the fisherman, and implants
itself in the thick hide of the doomed monster, which no sooner feels
the piercing blow, than away it darts at a fearful rapidity, dragging
along after it the frail canoe, to the bow of which is attached one end
of the thong made from the tough hide of the manatí, while to the other
end is firmly secured the iron head of the harpoon itself. After vain
endeavors to avoid the danger that threatens it, now dashing rapidly
against the stream for an hour or so, now seeking the calm surface of a
neighboring lagoon, during which time the sporting couple manage with
difficulty to keep their seats at the bottom of the canoe, holding fast
to the sides of it with both hands, the monster, bleeding and exhausted
after its precipitate flight, begins at last to slacken its pace, and
finally stops altogether. Now the hunter commences to pull it towards
him with much caution; but no sooner does the animal perceive the
dreaded canoe with its savage occupants, than off it sets anew at the
same lightning speed, though this time of less duration; again the
hunter pulls the game towards him, and again it endeavors to fly from
him; but having lost nearly all its strength, and probably convinced of
the uselessness of further efforts to escape, it now stops, rolls on its
back, and calmly awaits its fate on the surface of the water. By this
time the canoe is alongside of the captive, and, without further
concern, the Indian cuts it open with his knife, and as soon as the
water penetrates to its entrails, the great monster dies without a
struggle. And now, “what shall we do with it,” in the midst of a river
or lagoon four or five miles in width? How is this creature--weighing
perhaps a thousand pounds, and nearly as long as the canoe--to be landed
safely on the shore? How can a single man, assisted only by a frail
woman, without firm ground to set their feet upon, manage to stow away
the cumbrous load? Nothing easier, incredulous reader; “first catch the
hare and then make the soup,” and this the Indian hunter daily practises
in his native wilds, without much culinary advice from Mrs. Glass.
Having secured their game, the hunters, or fishers, plunge in the water,
swimming all the while with their feet and one hand, while with the
other they tip over the canoe until it partly fills with water, which
brings it on a level with the carcass of the manatí; this accomplished,
the rest of the operation is easily done by sliding the canoe under the
carcass, and then baling out the water by means of calabash cups, which
cover their heads in lieu of hats. In proportion as they bale out the
water, the canoe rises above the surface, and when sufficiently high to
permit its being safely navigated through the boisterous waves of the
Orinoco, the husband leaps on the head of the animal and calmly takes
his seat, while the wife does the same on the broad tail of the monster
fish, and directing the bow of the canoe towards the shore, they paddle
themselves along with their cumbrous freight, which is soon disposed of
among the numerous relations and friends, who anxiously await their
arrival on the beach.
[Illustration: SCENES AT EL DORADO--(From a photograph.)]