Across Unknown South America Part 33

Descending upon the opposite side of the range, at an elevation of 1,200 ft. we found the dry bed of a streamlet, which flowed in a northerly direction when it did flow at all. On emerging from the wide hill ma.s.s--about 18 kil. across--we found ourselves among a lot of _burity_ palms on the western spur of the Serra Azul. When we were actually upon them, the Blue Mountains lost their blue appearance and were more of a greyish green, owing to the vegetation which covered most of their slopes. The range was formed of three distinct terraces, the lower one being of greater height than the two upper ones. A number of low hill ranges starting from the main range branched off like spurs towards the south. The uppermost terrace of the main range was supported on a high vertical wall of red rock.

On meeting the Rio Coralzinho we skirted it for some distance through the forest, then marched among a great many domes, small and large; after which we crossed a wonderful field of huge monoliths, superposed boulders, and rocks of all kinds of fantastic shapes.

We had marched 30 kil. that day. We encamped on the River Piraputangas--a tributary on the left side of the Cuyaba Grande River--the Cuyaba Grande being in its turn a tributary on the right of the Cuyaba River.

The Cuyaba River described almost an arc of a circle--in fact, quite a semicircle--its birth taking place in the Serra Azul. Where we crossed it we were only a short distance to the west from its point of origin.

Where we had made our camp we were in a large gra.s.sy plain about six kilometres long and nearly two kilometres wide. The rainy season was fast approaching. We came in for a regular downpour during the night, accompanied by high wind, which knocked down all our tents, as the pegs would not hold in the soft, moist ground. We had a busy time endeavouring to protect the baggage. We all were absolutely soaked. The minimum temperature was 52 Fahr. In the morning, after the wind had abated and the rain had stopped, we were enveloped in thick fog.

We had descended to so low an alt.i.tude as 750 ft. above the sea level on the north side of the Serra Azul--the lowest elevation we had been at for some considerable time. We had descended altogether from the highest part of the great Central Brazilian plateau. From that point all the waters would be flowing to the north-east or north. We were, in fact, within a stone's throw--to be more accurate, within the radius of a few kilometres--of the birthplace of the Rio Novo, the head-waters of the River Arinos, of the Rio Verde (Green River), and of the several sources of the Rio S. Manoel or das Tres Barras, or Paranatinga; and not distant from the sources of the great Xingu River.

The Serra Azul, extending from west to east, was interesting geographically, not only because it marked the northern terminus of the highest terrace of the great central plateau, but also because from it or near it rose two of the greatest rivers of Central Brazil--the Xingu and the Arinos (Tapajoz), the latter the most central and important river of Brazil, crossing the entire Republic from south to north, as far as the Amazon.

On June 21st we crossed the Piraputangas (elev. 750 ft. above the sea level), where, owing to the steep banks, we had much difficulty in taking mules and baggage to the opposite side. We then proceeded across another large plain, skirting the spurs of the Serra Azul. Nine kilometres from camp we came to a stream 80 metres wide, which flowed from north-east to south-west. It had an average depth of 1 ft. It was, I think, the Cuyaba Grande.

It was not easy to identify those rivers, as the existing maps of that country were absolutely worthless, most of them being filled in with fancy mountains and rivers, which either did not exist at all or were sometimes hundreds of kilometres out of their position. There were frequently mistakes of two, three, and more degrees in the lat.i.tudes and longitudes even of important places. As for the tributary rivers, of which merely the mouths were known and named, they had supplied good material for the imagination of more or less artistic cartographers in order to fill in the rest of their course. Even the German map and the American maps of the International Bureau of American Republics, which were the two best, were extremely inaccurate in their representation of that region. For instance, the latter map--and nearly all the other maps--placed the Serra Azul some 180 or 200 kil. south of its actual position. The German map was some 70 kil. out. The Serra Azul could be seen from a great distance, and had been marked approximately and not by actual observations on the spot. Nor, of course, had the tributaries of the Cuyaba been explored or even seen except at their mouths; hence their imaginary courses.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Street of Diamantino.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Dogs of the Expedition.]

Considering how the maps of those regions had been got together, it was really wonderful that, with all their blunders, they gave as much information as they did. Unhappy, nevertheless, would be the poor traveller who relied on those maps in making a journey across the country. For instance, if you expected to come upon a certain river in one day and did not get there until after ten or fifteen days' hard marching; if you expected to find a mountain range--nearly as high as the Himalayas or at least as high as the Andes, according to the deep shading on the maps--and found instead an interminable flat plain; and if you saw on your map rivers marked navigable, and found rapids instead, in comparison with which the terrible ones of Niagara are mere child's play, you would certainly become rather sceptical of prettily-drawn maps.

On most of the maps of Brazil one saw marked to the east of the Araguaya, in the Goyaz Province, an immense range with no less a name than Cordilheira Geral la Serra do Estrondo--or "General Range of the Mountains of Noise." They were marked as the most prominent range in Brazil--quite as high as the Andes of Peru, Bolivia, and Chili; whereas, as a matter of fact, I was told on good authority that they were mere low hills, where there were any hills at all.

To come to great geographical mistakes which came under my direct observation, I found a very palpable one in the head-waters of the Cuyaba River, which had their source to the north of the Serra Azul and not to the south, as marked on many maps, including the Brazilian official maps.

We had to our left the Serra das Pedra--"Range of Rocks"--an extraordinarily rocky range, which was crossed almost at right angles by the Chapado das Porcas. We marched through a wonderful growth of palmeiras, some of the palms being as much as 30 ft. high. _Buritys_ were innumerable along a small stream--the Rio Estivado--flowing south-west into the Cubaya River. There were great quant.i.ties of _mangabeira_ trees.

We proceeded northward along a _chapada_--a capital Brazilian name which denotes a locality that is neither a forest nor a prairie. The _chapada_ had scanty trees and scrub, but not enough to make it into a forest.

We were marching over low hills with surface deposits of sand and cinders. We gradually reached an elevation of 1,050 ft. some 18 kil. from camp, and shortly after--and only 50 ft. lower--entered a refreshing grove of giant _palmeiras_ and _buritys_ along the Rio das Porcas, flowing westward. There, north of the stream, we went across more clean campos, 1,700 metres wide, bounded to the north by the thickly-wooded hill-range Keboh, extending before us from east to west.

We crossed this range in the centre, during a strong gale from the south-west. The wind cleared the sky, that had been overcast and had made the atmosphere heavy. Again that afternoon, when the wind ceased, I noticed the peculiar striations in the sky--not in straight lines that time, but in great and most regular curves converging to the west.

The valley got narrower as we went along. Two twin conical hills ended the northern extremity of the range (south-east to north-west) which we had on our left--a great ma.s.s of granite blocks in the centre of the plain rising higher and higher into regular domes. The plain itself, on an incline, showed two swellings of great magnitude, the one to our right about 120 ft. higher than the plain, the elevation of which was 1,000 ft.

On the west side of those two swellings was a confused ma.s.s of huge blocks of granite--of all sizes and shapes--which to all appearances had been shot up from underneath by some internal force. They were outwardly much blackened by the action of fire, but internally were of a grey tint.

A little farther we were encircled by basaltic columns of great height, many of them fractured, forming a fantastic sky-line. Some resembled the spires of a cathedral; groups of others had the appearance of the ruins of an ancient fortress; others stood up like giant obelisks; while acc.u.mulations of others formed more or less regular pyramids.

After leaving that strange basin, we were once more travelling across patches of clean _chapada_ and dirty _chapada_--according to the soil and quant.i.ty of moisture; then over arid campos spreading for 15 kil. without one single drop of water.

At sundown, after having gone over several undulations varying from 850 to 900 ft. above the sea level, we went over a hill slightly higher--950 ft.--with a summit of ashes, red earth, and yellow lava pellets, as well as great sheets of foliated lava.

Under a most wonderful effect of light to the west--three superposed horizontal bands of luminous yellow, violet and brilliant vermilion, over the deep cobalt mountain range in the distance--we arrived, my men being thirsty and tired, at a little rivulet. We had marched 42 kil. that day.

My men felt the cold intensely during the night--the minimum temperature was 48 Fahr., with a high, cutting wind. Yet we were at a low elevation, merely 750 ft. above the sea level. There were, as usual, moans and groans all night, more toothache and rheumatic pains and bones aching in the morning. The discontent among my men had reached a trying point. They worried me continuously to such an extent--indeed, as never in my life I had been worried before--that I was within an ace of breaking my vow of never losing my patience and calm. In my long experience of exploring I have always had to deal with the most troublesome types of men imaginable, but never with any quite so unpleasant as those I had in Brazil.

When, the next morning, I ordered them to pack the animals in order to proceed on our journey, there was an unpleasant scene approaching mutiny.

They knocked things about and refused to go on. Then they sat, rifles in hand, a little way off, grumbling and grunting, with vicious expressions upon their faces. They were going to do wonderful things--they were indeed! I overheard them. One man came forward--the spokesman. The men claimed their money up to date since the last payment made to them--only a fortnight before. They all wished to go.

"Certainly," was my immediate reply. Without a moment's hesitation they were each handed over their full pay, and without giving the slightest attention to them, Alcides, who had remained faithful, and I--poor Filippe had been dragged against himself into the plot--collected all the animals and packed them. Without one look or word--as if they had not existed--I started off the troop of animals and got on my saddle to depart last. With the corner of my eye I kept a watch on them--as with men of that kind the chief danger was when you had your back turned.

I had gone only a few yards when I heard some one sobbing behind my mule.

As I turned round, the two outstretched hands of Filippe were handing me back the sum of money I had paid a few moments before. He was begging me to keep it safely for him. Then two more hands urged me to take back for safe keeping the wages they had just received. The faces of the owners of those hands were too comic for words: the cheeks shining with abundant tears that streamed down, the eyes red and swollen, the mouths stretched in nervous strain from ear to ear. Behind came two more men, looking as mournful as if they were being led to execution.

They all begged to be re-employed. I let them follow--on foot--for several kilometres without saying a word--struggling through the heavy marching painfully and wading across chest-deep in the streams. We crossed the Ribero Chabo or Guebo, 25 metres wide and 3 ft. deep, at an elevation of 730 ft., then shortly after we waded through another stream flowing south, with a zone of wonderful _palmeiras_ along its banks. We then emerged into a magnificent plain with a barrier of low hills to the north-west. Six kilometres farther we waded across the Plancho stream, 5 metres wide and 6 in. deep. Marching on horseback was delightful, the maximum temperature being only 74 Fahr. in the shade. Another stream, flowing from north to south, the Planchonzinho, whose foul water was quite disgusting to drink, although beautifully limpid, was then negotiated.

I was delighted at meeting with so many streams, for there was nothing my men hated more than to get into the water. They felt very sorry for themselves, to be struggling along as best they could, following the animals like humble sheep instead of being comfortably mounted on quadrupeds. We travelled a considerable distance through campos, but owing to some baggage which had been lost we eventually had to retrace our steps as far as the Planchonzinho River, on the banks of which we encamped. This was unfortunate, as the water had a sickening flavour and made even our coffee and tea taste like poison.

Misfortunes never come alone. In overhauling my baggage I discovered, to my dismay, that my men--in order to force me to go back the way we had come--had gradually thrown away most of the provisions, which should have lasted us some six to seven months longer. We had only sufficient food to last us a few days. The men confessed their misdeed. The country provided absolutely nothing to eat, and I had to face the problem of either dying of starvation or falling back on some place where we could purchase fresh provisions. It was out of the question--unless one wished to commit suicide and a quintuple murder--to endeavour to push on towards my goal, Manaos on the Amazon, some 1,600 kil. distant as the crow flies, or at least 4,000 to 5,000 kil. travelling, with possible deviations, without some of which it was not possible to travel. We could certainly not fall back on our point of departure, the terminus of the railway at Araguary, 1,596 kil. distant; nor on Goyaz, the last city we had seen, 1,116 kil.

away--so that the only way to escape death was to fall back on the ancient settlement of Diamantino, the farthest village in Central Brazil, a place once established by the first Portuguese settlers of Brazil while in search of diamonds.

Diamantino was practically in the very centre of the thicker part of South America, without counting Patagonia. It was almost equidistant--roughly speaking, some 2,560 kil. as the crow flies--from Pernambuco on the Atlantic Coast to the east, Callao (Lima) in Peru on the Pacific Coast to the west, Georgetown in British Guyana to the north, and Buenos Ayres in the Argentine Republic. Although so far in the interior and almost inaccessible from the north, east, and west, Diamantino could be reached comparatively easily from the south, travelling by river up the Parana, Paraguay, and the Cuyaba Rivers, as far as Rosario--thence by trail to Diamantino. I had heard that the place was once flourishing, but had since become almost totally abandoned. I thought that perhaps I might be able to purchase sufficient provisions to get along; and--hope being one of my everlasting good qualities--I also dreamt that perhaps I might there get fresh men.

It was indeed with a bleeding heart--when I had reached a point some 200 kil. north of the Serra Azul--that I had to alter my course, which had been practically due north, into a south-westerly direction, and endeavour to find Diamantino. My men were delighted at the prospect of seeing human beings again. We had met no one for some weeks. We made terrific marches daily in order to reach that village before the food gave out altogether.

The nights were cold--47 Fahr. being the minimum at our camp on June 23rd.

We crossed a small range of hills over a pa.s.s 930 ft. above the sea level, and found ourselves in a s.p.a.cious _cuvette_ with the usual central line of _buritys_ and thick vegetation (elev. 900 ft.). Soaring over our heads were a number of _gavio caboclo_ (_Hetorospidias meridionalis_), a kind of falcon, rending the air with their unmusical shrieks.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Matto-Grosso Girl, a Mixture of Portuguese, Indian and Negro Blood.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Brazilian Child, a Mixture of Portuguese and Negro.]

After leaving the _cuvette_ we began to ascend the Estivado Range, very steep and rocky. Near the summit we struggled through a field of great igneous boulders, chiefly upright pillars of granite and white marble.

Upon the pa.s.s (elev. 1,400 ft.) was a circular depression some 300 metres in diameter, perfectly flat-bottomed and gra.s.sy. It was surrounded by cones from 80 to 100 ft. high. On the south-east side of the range--very steep--was abundant rock, whereas to the north-west side was a padding of brown earth on a gentle incline divided into terraces. Here and there pointed noses of volcanic blocks, similar to those we had found on the opposite side of the range, showed through. We went across a depression where water dripping down the mountain-side had remained stagnant, rendering that spot almost impa.s.sable. The animals sank chest-deep into slush, crashing through the thick and much-entangled growth of live and fallen bamboos.

More campos, fairly wide, were found beyond this, and great stretches of foliated slate and sandstone in strata turned over into a vertical position, and quant.i.ties of debris. Then again we cut our way through a cool growth of bamboos, handsome _palmeiras_ and _akuri_ palms; after which we emerged into campos once more, rising gradually to an elevation of 1,550 ft. upon an undulating terrace of the second section of the Estivado range.

Pulling and pushing the mules and horses over a lot of boulders and up a steep incline, we reached the highest point of the range on our route--1,800 ft. above the sea level. Again the stratification of red and grey rock in layers from 6 ins. to 1 ft. thick, standing vertically, showed what a geological commotion there must have been in those regions.

The summit of the range, extending from north to south, appeared like the teeth of a saw, so broken up was it into repeated undulations. On the west side of the range we found a gentle slope of clear campos with merely a few stunted trees upon them.

Before us to the west stood high the level sky-line of a table-land, showing perfectly straight parallel strata of rock extending all along its face, but slightly undulated near the summit of the range. Otherwise its gra.s.sy slopes were quite undisturbed in their virgin smoothness.

In the distance to the north of our course was a great lagoon--the Laga dos Veados, "Lagoon of the Deer"--a most important point in South America, for it was there that the great Arinos (Tapajoz) River rose. The lagoon--3 kil. long and less than 1 kil. wide--had no visible outlet, but some hundreds of metres away a spring came out of the earth, forming the Rio Preto (Black River). The Rio Preto, soon joined by the Rio Novo which we had seen descending from the Serra Azul, formed the Arinos River and could certainly be considered the head-waters of that immense tributary of the Amazon.

A short distance south of Diamantino were the Sete Lagoas, or Seven Lakes--as a matter of fact, they numbered more than seven--circular pools only a few yards in diameter but extraordinarily deep, evidently of volcanic origin, and filled with water at a later time. Around their edges a remarkably luxuriant growth of _buritys_ could be admired. A great valley extending south with a central ridge could be distinguished.

On it was the meeting-place of the Rio Diamantino and the Rio do Ouro (River of Gold), which, with the Sete Lagoas, formed another most important point of South America, for it was there that the Great Paraguay or Parana River rose.

It was thus interesting to note that within almost a stone's throw rose two of the most powerful rivers of South America--one flowing due north into the Amazon, the other almost due south as far as Buenos Ayres and Montevideo, where it entered the Atlantic Ocean.

A great confusion is made on most maps between those lagoons and the actual birth-places of those important streams. The ancient Jesuits and friars had a fair idea of geography. I have in my possession a remarkable work in Italian published in Rome in 1698 by Father John Joseph of S.

Teresa--a barefooted Carmelite. It is ent.i.tled _The History of the Wars in the Kingdom of Brazil between the Crown of Portugal and the Republic of Holland_. The book contains a number of extraordinary maps of Brazil.

Those of the princ.i.p.al harbours give a splendid idea of the places represented. The coastline of the continent is indicated with fair accuracy. It is curious to note that the author of that book and the cartographer place the sources of the Amazon and of the River Plate in the same spot, as descending on opposite sides of a range extending from east to west--a range which does not exist, unless it was intended to represent the Central Brazilian plateau. "The River S. Francisco," Father John Joseph goes on to state, "has also its birth in the spot where the Amazon is born, but this is not sure." The cartographer, in fact, places the head-waters of that river close to the head-waters of the Amazon, and makes them flow through a large lagoon in the heart of Brazil--evidently the Great "Laga dos Veados" or else the "Sete Lagoas" to which reference has previously been made in this chapter. "The Rio Grande (Rio Parana, Paraguay), one of the most celebrated in Brazil," proceeds the Carmelite Father, "is born already swollen by plentiful waters (_sic_) in the interior of terra firma! Near its sources it forms a lagoon 20 leagues in circ.u.mference." All this is, of course, geographically wrong. The Rio S.

Francisco has its birth far to the south-east in Minas Geraes, some hundreds of kilometres distant from that lagoon and several thousand from the real source of the Amazon.

Also the friar must have mistaken--evidently from information received--the sources of the Arinos for the sources of the Amazon, which are really located some 15 of longitude west. It is nevertheless curious that so far back as 1698 the existence of the lagoon should be known at all--perhaps they had heard of it from the adventurous Paulista Bandeirantes--and that they should have placed it nearly in its proper lat.i.tude and longitude on their maps. Apparently Father John Joseph was not aware of the existence of the Great Araguaya and Xingu Rivers. Having compiled his map from information, he confused those rivers into the S.

Francisco River.