The Naturalist On The River Amazons Part 18

experience, the beautiful forest which surrounds this settlement gave me as much enjoyment as if I had only just landed for the first time in a tropical country. The plateau on which the village is built extends on one side nearly a mile into the forest, but on the other side the descent into the lowland begins close to the streets; the hill sloping abruptly towards a boggy meadow surrounded by woods, through which a narrow winding path continues the slope down to a cool shady glen, with a brook of icy-cold water flowing at the bottom. At mid-day the vertical sun penetrates into the gloomy depths of this romantic spot, lighting up the leafy banks of the rivulet and its clean sandy margins, where numbers of scarlet, green, and black tanagers and brightly- coloured b.u.t.terflies sport about in the stray beams. Sparkling brooks, large and small, traverse the glorious forest in almost every direction, and one is constantly meeting, while rambling through the thickets, with trickling rills and bubbling springs, so well-provided is the country with moisture. Some of the rivulets flow over a sandy and pebbly bed, and the banks of all are clothed with the most magnificent vegetation conceivable. I had the almost daily habit, in my solitary walks, of resting on the clean banks of these swift-flowing streams, and bathing for an hour at a time in their bracing waters; hours which now remain among my most pleasant memories. The broad forest roads continue, as I was told, a distance of several days' journey into the interior, which is peopled by Tucunas and other Indians, living in scattered houses and villages nearly in their primitive state, the nearest village lying about six miles from St. Paulo. The banks of all the streams are dotted with palm-thatched dwellings of Tucunas, all half-buried in the leafy wilderness, the scattered families having chosen the coolest and shadiest nooks for their abodes.

I frequently heard in the neighbourhood of these huts, the "realejo" or organ bird (Cyphorhinus cantans), the most remarkable songster, by far, of the Amazonian forests. When its singular notes strike the ear for the first time, the impression cannot be resisted that they are produced by a human voice. Some musical boy must be gathering fruit in the thickets, and is singing a few notes to cheer himself. The tones become more fluty and plaintive; they are now those of a flageolet, and notwithstanding the utter impossibility of the thing, one is for the moment convinced that somebody is playing that instrument. No bird is to be seen, however closely the surrounding trees and bushes may be scanned, and yet the voice seems to come from the thicket close to one's ears. The ending of the song is rather disappointing. It begins with a few very slow and mellow notes, following each other like the commencement of an air; one listens expecting to hear a complete strain, but an abrupt pause occurs, and then the song breaks down, finishing with a number of clicking unmusical sounds like a piping barrel organ out of wind and tune. I never heard the bird on the Lower Amazon, and very rarely heard it even at Ega; it is the only songster which makes an impression on the natives, who sometimes rest their paddles whilst travelling in their small canoes, along the shady by- streams, as if struck by the mysterious sounds.

The Tucuna Indians are a tribe resembling much the Shumanas, Pa.s.ses, Juris, and Mauhes in their physical appearance and customs. They lead, like those tribes, a settled agricultural life, each horde obeying a chief of more or less influence, according to his energy and ambition, and possessing its paje or medicine-man who fosters its superst.i.tions; but, they are much more idle and debauched than other Indians belonging to the superior tribes. They are not so warlike and loyal as the Mundurucus, although resembling them in many respects, nor have they the slender figures, dignified mien, and gentle disposition of the Pa.s.ses; there are, however, no trenchant points of difference to distinguish them from these highest of all the tribes. Both men and women are tattooed, the pattern being sometimes a scroll on each cheek, but generally rows of short straight lines on the face. Most of the older people wear bracelets, anklets, and garters of tapir-hide or tough bark; in their homes they wear no other dress except on festival days, when they ornament themselves with feathers or masked cloaks made of the inner bark of a tree. They were very shy when I made my first visits to their habitations in the forest, all scampering off to the thicket when I approached, but on subsequent days they became more familiar, and I found them a harmless, good-natured people.

A great part of the horde living at the first Maloca or village dwell in a common habitation, a large oblong hut built and arranged inside with such a disregard of all symmetry that it appeared as though constructed by a number of hands, each working independently, stretching a rafter or fitting in a piece of thatch, without reference to what his fellow-labourers were doing. The walls as well as the roof are covered with thatch of palm leaves-- each piece consisting of leaflets plaited and attached in a row to a lath many feet in length. Strong upright posts support the roof, hammocks being slung between them, leaving a free s.p.a.ce for pa.s.sage and for fires in the middle, and on one side is an elevated stage (girao) overhead, formed of split palm-stems. The Tucunas excel over most of the other tribes in the manufacture of pottery. They make broad-mouthed jars for Tucupi sauce, caysuma or mandioca beer, capable of holding twenty or more gallons, ornamenting them outside with crossed diagonal streaks of various colours. These jars, with cooking-pots, smaller jars for holding water, blow-guns, quivers, matiri bags [These bags are formed of remarkably neat twine made of Bromelia fibres elaborately knitted, all in one piece, with sticks; a belt of the same material, but more closely woven, being attached to the top to suspend them by. They afford good examples of the mechanical ability of these Indians. The Tucunas also possess the art of skinning and stuffing birds, the handsome kinds of which they sell in great numbers to pa.s.sing travellers.] full of small articles, baskets, skins of animals, and so forth, form the princ.i.p.al part of the furniture of their huts both large and small. The dead bodies of their chiefs are interred, the knees doubled up, in large jars under the floors of their huts.

The semi-religious dances and drinking bouts usual among the settled tribes of Amazonian Indians are indulged in to greater excess by the Tucunas than they are by most other tribes. The Jurupari or Demon is the only superior being they have any conception of, and his name is mixed up with all their ceremonies, but it is difficult to ascertain what they consider to be his attributes. He seems to be believed in simply as a mischievous imp, who is at the bottom of all those mishaps of their daily life, the causes of which are not very immediate or obvious to their dull understandings. It is vain to try to get information out of a Tucuna on this subject; they affect great mystery when the name is mentioned, and give very confused answers to questions: it was clear, however, that the idea of a spirit as a beneficent G.o.d or Creator had not entered the minds of these Indians. There is great similarity in all their ceremonies and mummeries, whether the object is a wedding, the celebration of the feast of fruits, the plucking of the hair from the heads of their children, or a holiday got up simply out of a love of dissipation. Some of the tribe on these occasions deck themselves with the bright-coloured feathers of parrots and macaws. The chief wears a headdress or cap made by fixing the breast-feathers of the Toucan on a web of Bromelia twine, with erect tail plumes of macaws rising from the crown. The cinctures of the arms and legs are also then ornamented with bunches of feathers. Others wear masked dresses; these are long cloaks reaching below the knee, and made of the thick whitish-coloured inner bark of a tree, the fibres of which are interlaced in so regular a manner that the material looks like artificial cloth.

The cloak covers the head; two holes are cut out for the eyes, a large round piece of the cloth stretched on a rim of flexible wood is st.i.tched on each side to represent cars, and the features are painted in exaggerated style with yellow, red, and black streaks. The dresses are sewn into the proper shapes with thread made of the inner bark of the Uaissima tree. Sometimes grotesque head-dresses, representing monkeys' busts or heads of other animals, made by stretching cloth or skin over a basketwork frame, are worn at these holidays. The biggest and ugliest mask represents the Jurupari. In these festival habiliments the Tucunas go through their monotonous see-saw and stamping dances accompanied by singing and drumming, and keep up the sport often for three or four days and nights in succession, drinking enormous quant.i.ties of caysuma, smoking tobacco, and snuffing parica powder.

I could not learn that there was any deep symbolical meaning in these masked dances, or that they commemorated any past event in the history of the tribe. Some of them seem vaguely intended as a propitiation of the Jurupari, but the masker who represents the demon sometimes gets drunk along with the rest, and is not treated with any reverence. From all I could make out, these Indians preserve no memory of events going beyond the times of their fathers or grandfathers. Almost every joyful event is made the occasion of a festival-- weddings among the best. A young man who wishes to wed a Tucuna girl has to demand her hand of her parents, who arrange the rest of the affair, and fix a day for the marriage ceremony. A wedding which took place in the Christmas week while I was at St. Paulo was kept up with great spirit for three or four days, flagging during the heats of mid- day, but renewing itself with increased vigour every evening.

During the whole time the bride, decked out with feather ornaments, was under the charge of the older squaws whose business seemed to be, sedulously, to keep the bridegroom at a safe distance until the end of the dreary period of dancing and boosing. The Tucunas have the singular custom, in common with the Collinas and Mauhes, of treating their young girls, on their showing the first signs of womanhood, as if they had committed some crime. They are sent up to the girao under the smoky and filthy roof, and kept there on very meagre diet, sometimes for a whole month. I heard of one poor girl dying under this treatment.

The only other tribe of this neighbourhood concerning which I obtained any information were the Majeronas, whose territory embraces several hundred miles of the western bank of the river Jauari, an affluent of the Solimoens, 120 miles beyond St. Paulo.

These are a fierce, indomitable, and hostile people, like the Araras of the river Madeira; they are also cannibals. The navigation of the Jauari is rendered impossible on account of the Majeronas lying in wait on its banks to intercept and murder all travellers, especially whites.

Four months before my arrival at St. Paulo, two young half-castes (nearly white) of the village went to trade on the Jauari; the Majeronas having shown signs of abating their hostility for a year or two previously. They had not been long gone, when their canoe returned with the news that the two young fellows had been shot with arrows, roasted, and eaten by the savages. Jose Patricio, with his usual activity in the cause of law and order, despatched a party of armed men of the National Guard to the place to make inquiries, and, if the murder should appear to be unprovoked, to retaliate. When they reached the settlement of the horde who had eaten the two men, it was found evacuated, with the exception of one girl, who had been in the woods when the rest of her people had taken flight, and whom the guards brought with them to St. Paulo. It was gathered from her, and from other Indians on the Jauari, that the young men had brought their fate on themselves through improper conduct towards the Majerona women. The girl, on arriving at St. Paulo, was taken care of by Senor Jose Patricio, baptised under the name of Maria, and taught Portuguese. I saw a good deal of her, for my friend sent her daily to my house to fill the water-jars, make the fire, and so forth. I also gained her goodwill by extracting the grub of an Oestrus fly from her back, and thus cured her of a painful tumour. She was decidedly the best-humoured and, to all appearance, the kindest-hearted specimen of her race I had yet seen. She was tall and very stout; in colour much lighter than the ordinary Indian tint, and her ways altogether were more like those of a careless, laughing country wench, such as might be met with any day amongst the labouring cla.s.s in villages in our own country, than a cannibal. I heard this artless maiden relate, in the coolest manner possible, how she ate a portion of the bodies of the young men whom her tribe had roasted. But what increased greatly the incongruity of this business, the young widow of one of the victims, a neighbour of mine, happened to be present during the narrative, and showed her interest in it by laughing at the broken Portuguese in which the girl related the horrible story.

In the fourth month of my sojourn at St. Paulo I had a serious illness, an attack of the "sizoens," or ague of the country, which, as it left me with shattered health and damped enthusiasm, led to my abandoning the plan I had formed of proceeding to the Peruvian towns of Pebas and Moyobamba, 250 and 600 miles further west, and so completing the examination of the Natural History of the Amazonian plains up to the foot of the Andes. I made a very large collection at St. Paulo, and employed a collector at Tabatinga and on the banks of the Jauari for several months, so that I acquired a very fair knowledge altogether of the productions of the country bordering the Amazons to the end of the Brazilian territory, a distance of 1900 miles from the Atlantic at the mouth of the Para; but beyond the Peruvian boundary I found now I should be unable to go. My ague seemed to be the culmination of a gradual deterioration of health, which had been going on for several years. I had exposed myself too much in the sun, working to the utmost of my strength six days a week, and had suffered much, besides, from bad and insufficient food. The ague did not exist at St. Paulo but the foul and humid state of the village was, perhaps, sufficient to produce ague in a person much weakened from other causes. The country bordering the sh.o.r.es of the Solimoens is healthy throughout; some endemic diseases certainly exist, but these are not of a fatal nature, and the epidemics which desolated the Lower Amazons from Para to the Rio Negro, between the years 1850 and 1856, had never reached this favoured land. Ague is known only on the banks of those tributary streams which have dark-coloured water.

I always carried a stock of medicines with me; and a small phial of quinine, which I had bought at Para in 1851, but never yet had use for, now came in very useful. I took for each dose as much as would lie on the tip of a penknife-blade, mixing it with warm camomile tea. The first few days after my first attack I could not stir, and was delirious during the paroxysms of fever; but the worst being over, I made an effort to rouse myself, knowing that incurable disorders of the liver and spleen follow ague in this country if the feeling of la.s.situde is too much indulged. So every morning I shouldered my gun or insect-net, and went my usual walk in the forest. The fit of shivering very often seized me before I got home, and I then used to stand still and brave it out. When the steamer ascended in January, 1858, Lieutenant Nunes was shocked to see me so much shattered, and recommended me strongly to return at once to Ega. I took his advice, and embarked with him, when he touched at St. Paulo on his downward voyage, on the 2nd of February. I still hoped to be able to turn my face westward again, to gather the yet unseen treasures of the marvellous countries lying between Tabatinga and the slopes of the Andes; but although, after a short rest in Ega, the ague left me, my general health remained in a state too weak to justify the undertaking of further journeys. At length I left Ega, on the 3rd of February, 1859, en route for England.

I arrived at Para on the 17th of March, after an absence in the interior of seven years and a half. My old friends, English, American, and Brazilian, scarcely knew me again, but all gave me a very warm welcome, especially Mr. G. R. Brocklehurst (of the firm of R. Singlehurst and Co., the chief foreign merchants, who had been my correspondents), who received me into his house, and treated me with the utmost kindness. I was rather surprised at the warm appreciation shown by many of the princ.i.p.al people of my labours; but, in fact, the interior of the country is still the "sertao" (wilderness)--a terra incognita to most residents of the seaport--and a man who had spent seven years and a half in exploring it solely with scientific aims was somewhat of a curiosity. I found Para greatly changed and improved. It was no longer the weedy, ruinous, village-looking place that it appeared to be when I first knew it in 1848. The population had been increased to 20,000 by an influx of Portuguese, Madeiran, and German immigrants, and for many years past the provincial government had spent their considerable surplus revenue in beautifying the city. The streets, formerly unpaved or strewn with loose stones and sand, were now laid with concrete in a most complete manner, all the projecting masonry of the irregularly- built houses had been cleared away, and the buildings made more uniform. Most of the dilapidated houses were replaced by handsome new edifices, having long and elegant balconies fronting the first floors, at an elevation of several feet above the roadway.

The large, swampy squares had been drained, weeded, and planted with rows of almond and casuarina trees, so that they were now a great ornament to the city, instead of an eyesore as they formerly were. My old favourite road, the Monguba avenue, had been renovated and joined to many other magnificent rides lined with trees, which in a very few years had grown to a height sufficient to afford agreeable shade; one of these, the Estrada de Sao Jose, had been planted with cocoa-nut palms. Sixty public vehicles, light cabriolets (some of them built in Para), now plied in the streets, increasing much the animation of the beautified squares, streets, and avenues.

I found also the habits of the people considerably changed. Many of the old religious holidays had declined in importance, and given way to secular amus.e.m.e.nts--social parties, b.a.l.l.s, music, billiards, and so forth. There was quite as much pleasure seeking as formerly, but it was turned in a more rational direction, and the Paraenses seemed now to copy rather the customs of the northern nations of Europe than those of the mother country, Portugal. I was glad to see several new booksellers' shops, and also a fine edifice devoted to a reading-room supplied with periodicals, globes, and maps, and a circulating library. There were now many printing-offices, and four daily newspapers. The health of the place had greatly improved since 1850, the year of the yellow fever, and Para was now considered no longer dangerous to newcomers.

So much for the improvements visible in the place, and now for the dark side of the picture. The expenses of living had increased about fourfold, a natural consequence of the demand for labour and for native products of all kinds having augmented in greater ratio than the supply, through large arrivals of nonproductive residents, and considerable importations of money on account of the steamboat company and foreign merchants. Para, in 1848, was one of the cheapest places of residence on the American continent; it was now one of the dearest. Imported articles of food, clothing, and furniture were mostly cheaper, although charged with duties varying from 18 to 80 percent, besides high freights and large profits, than those produced in the neighbourhood. Salt codfish was twopence per pound cheaper than the vile salt pirarucu of the country. Oranges, which could formerly be had almost gratis, were now sold in the streets at the rate of three for a penny; large bananas were a penny each; tomatoes were from two to three pence each, and all other fruits in this fruit-producing country had advanced in like proportion.

Mandioca-meal, the bread of the country, had become so scarce and dear and bad that the poorer cla.s.ses of natives suffered famine, and all who could afford it were obliged to eat wheaten bread at fourpence to fivepence per pound, made from American flour, 1200 barrels of which were consumed monthly; this was now, therefore, a very serious item of daily expense to all but the most wealthy.

House rent was most exorbitant; a miserable little place of two rooms, without fixtures or conveniences of any kind, having simply blank walls' cost at the rate of 18 sterling a year.

Lastly, the hire of servants was beyond the means of all persons in moderate circ.u.mstances--a lazy cook or porter could not be had for less than three or four shillings a day, besides his board and what he could steal. It cost me half-a-crown for the hire of a small boat and one man to disembark from the steamer, a distance of 100 yards.

In rambling over my old ground in the forests of the neighbourhood, I found great changes had taken place--to me, changes for the worse. The mantle of shrubs, bushes, and creeping plants which formerly, when the suburbs were undisturbed by axe or spade, had been left free to arrange itself in rich, full, and smooth sheets and ma.s.ses over the forest borders, had been nearly all cut away, and troops of labourers were still employed cutting ugly muddy roads for carts and cattle, through the once clean and lonely woods. Houses and mills had been erected on the borders of these new roads. The n.o.ble forest-trees had been cut down, and their naked, half-burnt stems remained in the midst of ashes, muddy puddles, and heaps of broken branches. I was obliged to hire a negro boy to show me the way to my favourite path near Una, which I have described in the second chapter of this narrative; the new clearings having quite obliterated the old forest roads. Only a few acres of the glorious forest near Una now remained in their natural state. On the other side of the city, near the old road to the rice mills, several scores of woodsmen were employed under Government, in cutting a broad carriage-road through the forest to Maranham, the capital of the neighbouring province, distant 250 miles from Para, and this had entirely destroyed the solitude of the grand old forest path. In the course of a few years, however, a new growth of creepers will cover the naked treetrunks on the borders of this new road, and luxuriant shrubs form a green fringe to the path: it will then become as beautiful a woodland road as the old one was. A naturalist will have, henceforward, to go farther from the city to find the glorious forest scenery which lay so near in 1848, and work much more laboriously than was formerly needed to make the large collections which Mr. Wallace and I succeeded in doing in the neighbourhood of Para.

June 2, 1859--At length, on the 2nd of June, I left Para, probably forever; embarking in a North American trading-vessel, the Frederick Demming, for New York, the United States route being the quickest as well as the pleasantest way of reaching England. My extensive private collections were divided into three portions and sent by three separate ships, to lessen the risk of loss of the whole. On the evening of the 3rd of June, I took a last view of the glorious forest for which I had so much love, and to explore which I had devoted so many years. The saddest hours I ever recollect to have spent were those of the succeeding night when, the Mameluco pilot having left us free of the shoals and out of sight of land though within the mouth of the river at anchor waiting for the wind, I felt that the last link which connected me with the land of so many pleasing recollections was broken. The Paraenses, who are fully aware of the attractiveness of their country, have an alliterative proverb, "Quem vai para (o) Para para," "He who goes to Para stops there," and I had often thought I should myself have been added to the list of examples. The desire, however, of seeing again my parents and enjoying once more the rich pleasures of intellectual society, had succeeded in overcoming the attractions of a region which may be fittingly called a Naturalist's Paradise. During this last night on the Para river, a crowd of unusual thoughts occupied my mind. Recollections of English climate, scenery, and modes of life came to me with a vividness I had never before experienced, during the eleven years of my absence. Pictures of startling clearness rose up of the gloomy winters, the long grey twilights, murky atmosphere, elongated shadows, chilly springs, and sloppy summers; of factory chimneys and crowds of grimy operatives, rung to work in early morning by factory bells; of union workhouses, confined rooms, artificial cares, and slavish conventionalities.

To live again amidst these dull scenes, I was quitting a country of perpetual summer, where my life had been spent like that of three-fourths of the people-- in gipsy fashion-- on the endless streams or in the boundless forests. I was leaving the equator, where the well-balanced forces of Nature maintained a land- surface and climate that seemed to be typical of mundane order and beauty, to sail towards the North Pole, where lay my home under crepuscular skies somewhere about fifty-two degrees of lat.i.tude. It was natural to feel a little dismayed at the prospect of so great a change; but now, after three years of renewed experience of England, I find how incomparably superior is civilised life, where feelings, tastes, and intellect find abundant nourishment, to the spiritual sterility of half-savage existence, even though it be pa.s.sed in the garden of Eden. What has struck me powerfully is the immeasurably greater diversity and interest of human character and social conditions in a single civilised nation, than in equatorial South America, where three distinct races of man live together. The superiority of the bleak north to tropical regions, however, is only in their social aspect, for I hold to the opinion that, although humanity can reach an advanced state of culture only by battling with the inclemencies of nature in high lat.i.tudes, it is under the equator alone that the perfect race of the future will attain to complete fruition of man's beautiful heritage, the earth.

The following day, having no wind, we drifted out of the mouth of the Para with the current of fresh water that is poured from the mouth of the river, and in twenty-four hours advanced in this way seventy miles on our road. On the 6th of June, when in 7' 55' N.

lat. and 52' 30' W. long., and therefore about 400 miles from the mouth of the main Amazons, we pa.s.sed numerous patches of floating gra.s.s mingled with tree-trunks and withered foliage. Among these ma.s.ses I espied many fruits of that peculiarly Amazonian tree the Ubussu palm; this was the last I saw of the Great River.