sketch of mountain
The accompanying sketch gives a section of this mountain, as near as I can make it out. The extraordinary jaggedness of the rocks is not at all exaggerated, and is the more surprising when you get into it, because from a distance it appears one smooth forest-coveredhill, of very inconsiderable height, and of a gradual slope. Besides the great caverns and ridges shown above, the surfaces of each precipice are serrated in a most extraordinary manner, forming deep sloping gutters, cut out of the smooth face of the rock, or sometimes vertical channels, with angular edges, such as might be supposed to be formed were the granite in a plastic state forced up against hard angular masses.
On reaching the cave I immediately skinned my prize before it was dark, and we then got our supper. No more “gallos” were brought in that day. The fires were made up, the pork put to smoke over them, and around me were thirteen naked Indians, talking in unknown tongues. Two only could speak a little Portuguese, and with them I conversed, answering their various questions about where iron came from, and how calico was made, and if paper grew in my country, and if we had much mandiocca and plantains; and they were greatly astonished to hear that all were white men there, and could not imagine how white men could work, or how there could be a country without forest. They would ask strange questions about where the wind came from, and the rain, and how the sun and moon got back to their places again after disappearing from us; and when I had tried to satisfy them on these points, they would tell me forest tales of jaguars and pumas, and of the fierce wild hogs, and of the dreaded curupurí, the demon of the woods, and of the wild man with a long tail, found far in the centre of the forest. They told me also a curious tale about the tapir, which however others have assured me is not true.
The tapir, they say, has a peculiar fancy for dropping his dung only in the water, and they never find it except in brooks and springs, though it is so large and abundant that it could not be overlooked in the forest. If there is no water to be found, the animal makes a rough basket of leaves and carries it to the nearest stream, and there deposits it. The Indians’ tale goes, that one tapir met another in the forest with a basket in his mouth: “What have you in your basket?” said the one. “Fruit,” answered the other. “Let me have some,” said the first. “I won’t,” said the other; upon which the first tapir pulled the basket from the other’s mouth, broke it open, and on seeing the contents both turned tail, quite ashamed of themselves, ran away in opposite directions, and never came near the spot again all their lives.
With such conversation we passed the time till we fell asleep. We rose with the earliest dawn, for the naked Indian feels the chill morning air, and gets up early to renew his fire, and make some mingau to warm himself. Having no coffee, I had to put up also with “mingau” (farinha gruel), and we then all started off again in search of game. This time I took the forest, having had enough of the Serra, and the two boys came with me for guides and companions. After wandering about a good way we found some fine curassow-birds high up in lofty trees, and succeeded in shooting one. This, with a large jacamar, was all we could find, so we returned to the cave, skinned the jacamar, and put the “mutun” (curassow bird) on the fire for breakfast.
In the afternoon the other parties returned unsuccessful,one only bringing in a gallo. The next day nothing at all was met with, and it was therefore agreed to move our camp to a spot some miles off on the other side of the serra, where was a feeding-place of the gallos. We accordingly started; and if our former path was bad enough, this was detestable. It was principally through second-growth woods, which are much thicker than the virgin forest, full of prickly plants, entangled creepers, and alternations of soft mud and quartz pebbles under foot. As our farinha was getting low, we had sent half our party home, to bring such a supply as would enable us to remain a week in our new camp.
On reaching the place we found a pleasant open glade and low woods, where there had formerly been a small Indian settlement. It was much more airy and agreeable than our cave, so closely surrounded by the tall dense forest that scarcely a straggling ray of sunshine could enter. Here were numerous trees of a species ofMelastoma, bearing purple berries, of which the gallos and many other birds are very fond. There was a little shed, just large enough to hang my hammock under; this we repaired and thatched, and made our head-quarters, where I soon established myself comfortably. We had not been here long before we heard the shrill cry of a gallo near us. All immediately started off, and I soon had the pleasure of again seeing this living flame darting among the foliage. My gun however had been wetted in walking so far through the dripping underwood, and missed fire. In the evening two fine birds were brought in,—a very satisfactory commencement. The next evening the party who had gone tothe village returned with farinha, salt, and a few mammee apples, which were very refreshing.
We staid here four days longer, with various success: some days we had not a bird; others, plenty of game, and one or two gallos. What with monkeys, guans, and mutuns, we had pretty good fare in the meat way. One day I went out alone, and by patiently watching under a fruit-tree in a drenching shower, was rewarded by obtaining another beautiful gallo. Two were brought in alive: one of them I killed and skinned at once, knowing the great risk of attempting to keep them alive; the other was kept by the Indian who caught it, but a few weeks afterwards it died. They are caught by snares at certain places, where the males assemble to play. These places are on rocks, or roots of trees, and are worn quite smooth and clean. Two or three males meet and perform a kind of dance, walking and jigging up and down. The females and young are never seen at these places, so that you are sure of catching only full-grown fine-plumaged males. I am not aware of any other bird that has this singular habit. On the last day of our stay, we were rather short of provisions. The Indians supped well off a young alligator they had caught in a brook near; but the musky odour was so strong that I could not stomach it, and, after getting down a bit of the tail, finished my supper with mingau.
The next day we returned home to the little village. With twelve hunters, nine days in the forest, I had obtained twelve gallos, two of which I had shot myself; I had, besides, two fine trogons, several little blue-capped manikins, and some curious barbets, and ant-thrushes.
At the village I spent nearly a fortnight more, getting together a good many small birds, but nothing very rare. I shot a specimen of the curious bald-headed brown crow (Gymnocephalus calvus), which, though common in Cayenne, is very rare in the Rio Negro district; nobody, in fact, but the Indians, had ever seen the bird, and they regarded it as my greatest curiosity. I also skinned a black agouti, and made drawings of many curious fish.
The Padre having come to Guía, most of the Indians returned with me to attend the festa, and get their children baptized. When we arrived, however, we found that he had left for the villages higher up, and was to call on his return. I now wished to set off as soon as possible for the Upper Rio Negro, in Venezuela; but of course no Indian could be got to go with me till the Padre returned, and I was obliged to wait patiently and idly at Guía. For days I would go out into the forest, and not get a bird worth skinning; insects were equally scarce. The forest was gloomy, damp, and silent as death. Every other day was wet, and almost every afternoon there was a thunder-storm; and on these dull days and weary evenings, I had no resource but the oft-told tales of Senhor L., and the hackneyed conversation on buying and selling calico, on digging salsa, and cutting piassaba.
At length however the Padre, Frei Jozé, arrived with Senhor Tenente Filisberto, the Commandante of Marabitanas. Frei Jozé dos Santos Innocentos was a tall, thin, prematurely old man, thoroughly worn out by every kind of debauchery, his hands crippled, and his bodyulcerated; yet he still delighted in recounting the feats of his youth, and was celebrated as the most original and amusing story-teller in the province of Pará. He was carried up the hill, from the river-side, in a hammock; and took a couple of days to rest, before he commenced his ecclesiastical operations. I often went with Senhor L. to visit him, and was always much amused with his inexhaustible fund of anecdotes: he seemed to know everybody and everything in the Province, and had always something humorous to tell about them. His stories were, most of them, disgustingly coarse; but so cleverly told, in such quaint and expressive language, and with such amusing imitations of voice and manner, that they were irresistibly ludicrous. There is always, too, a particular charm in hearing good anecdotes in a foreign language. The point is the more interesting, from the obscure method of arriving at it; and the knowledge you acquire of the various modes of using the peculiar idioms of the language, causes a pleasure quite distinct from that of the story itself. Frei Jozé never repeated a story twice, in the week he was with us; and Senhor L., who has known him for years, says he had never before heard many of the anecdotes he now related. He had been a soldier, then a friar in a convent, and afterwards a parish priest: he told tales of his convent life, just like what we read in Chaucer of their doings in his time. Don Juan was an innocent compared with Frei Jozé; but he told us he had a great respect for his cloth, and never did anything disreputable—during the day!
At length the baptisms took place: there were somefifteen or twenty Indian children of all ages, to undergo the operation at once. There are seven or eight distinct processes in the Roman Catholic baptism, well calculated to attract the attention of the Indians: there is water and holy oil,—and spittle rubbed on the eyes,—and crosses on the eyes, nose, mouth, and body,—and kneelings and prayers in between, which all bear sufficient resemblance to the complicated operations of their own “pagés” (conjurors), to make them think they have got something very good, in return for the shilling they pay for the ceremony.
The next day there were a few weddings, the ceremony of which is very like our own. After it was over, Frei Jozé gave the newly married people a very good and practical homily on the duties of the married state, which might have done some good, had the parties to whom it was addressed understood it; which, as it was in Portuguese, they did not. He at all times strenuously exhorted the Indians to get married, and thus save their souls,—and fill his pocket. The only two white men, besides myself, were however bad examples,—for they were not, nor would be married, though they both had large families; which the Padré got over by saying, “Never mind what these white people do, they will all go to purgatory, but don’t you be such fools as to go too!” at which Senhor L. and the Commandante laughed heartily, and the poor Indians looked much astonished.