There are a few foreigners in Cochabamba—English, French, German, and Scotch; some of them engaged in mining. All expect to make fortunes very soon; but say they have been thirty and forty years in the country, and are poorer now than when they came. A hard-working, cheerful, honest Scotchman, who had been a number of years in a woollen factory in New York, told me the most unfortunate thing he ever did was to leave the United States.
The wages paid the Indians for mining silver varies according to the value and hardness of the veins—from twelve to sixty dollars the yard. The mines containing water are cleared by the means of llama skin buckets, passed from hand to hand. This required a number of Indians, working day and night. If a man could not make his fortune with a corn-shelling machine in this country, he would very much astonish the natives by the use of such a convenient implement.
The merchants of Cochabamba send off every week a supply of goods to the valley of Clisa, a short distance to the southeast of this city. The Indians from the surrounding country come in on Sunday to buyat what is called the weekly fair. Six hundred dollars worth of chicha have been sold in a day at these fairs. A foreigner once had this liquor prepared by pounding the corn between stones, and offered it to some of the country ladies to drink. An old chicha toper, after tasting it, said, "for her part, she much preferred chicha made of chewed corn, which gave it a different flavor from that made by the stones, and she was fond of good chicha."
The merchants make their remittances to the sea-coast by putting twenty-two hundred dollars in silver in bags well covered with leather, forty-four hundred dollars being a mule load. The arriero signs the bill of lading and arms himself for the robbers. Sixteen dollars per mule load is paid for delivering it at Tacna, in Peru, near Arica. The trip is made in fourteen days. It is strange that these trains are seldom robbed among the uninhabited regions of the Andes and Cordilleras, where the arriero sleeps upon the mountain-top or in the deep gorge by himself.
The trip from Cochabamba to Cobija is made in forty days. The distance is two hundred and nineteen leagues.
Since 1830, the government have thought it policy to debase their coins about twenty-six per cent, worse than ordinary dollar standard; sometimes they have exceeded this standard. Their doubloons of 1827 to 1836 contain eight hundred and seventy parts of fine gold in one thousand. The dollars and portions from 1827 to 1840 are from six hundred and seventy to nine hundred and three fine in the one thousand, showing very great irregularities.
The consumption of their cotton cloths and silks increases as we move east, and where the climate is warmer. The Indian girls are seamstresses here, and are very handy workers with the needle. Wine, rum, and dried fish are imported from Peru, for which wheat, maize, and soap are given in exchange, making up the balance of trade with Peru in silver.
The inland situation of these people places them so far from the markets of other countries, that they are obliged to supply their own wants very much, and we find various descriptions of industry. Weavers produce beautiful cotton and woollen cloths; hatters form hats of the vicuña wool equal to well-taught workmen. We found them much more comfortable than our own. The women cut out and make dresses, and tailors abound. Blacksmiths are in greater numbers, and carpenters' shops, a rare establishment on the mountains, indicate our close proximity to the forests. Cabinet-makers supply the city with much furniture, although the deficiency is still apparent. We have seen a train of jackasses entering the city loaded with cane-bottomed chairs manufacturedin the United States, and another train loaded with iron bedsteads from France, while the shops are well supplied with ornamental woods. The difficulty in producing is from a want of a proper teaching of the trades. A boy handles a North American chisel very awkwardly, while the head of the shop stands in the doorway smoking a paper cigar, with a broadcloth coat on his back, and a poncho over that.
While the President was in Cochabamba, a young man was presented to him, who it was said "invented" a piano. He was highly praised, and his piano valued as a home production. The tin men are good workers after their own fashion, but they seem indisposed to be employed out of their usual routine. We wanted a funnel, one inch perpendicular at the mouth, for the purpose of catching rain, and measuring the quantity of water during the rainy season. The most experienced tinner in town looked at the drawing and measurements, but handing it back, said, "I never work my tin up in that shape;" though he willingly made us a common funnel; there appeared no disposition to be uncivil or disobliging, but a very strong indisposition to exert the brain. We see few men saving their hands' labor by practising head-work.
The tin is found in the Titicaca basin, carried over the Cordilleras, and shipped around Cape Horn to the United States; manufactured, then re-shipped, and after doubling Cape Horn a second time, returns by the mouth of the mine, crosses the Andes, and is sold here to make tin pans, funnels, and coffee pots for the original miners.
There are few jewellers in the city; now and then a travelling German sets up shop, and does a good business for a while. The bishops and priests carry their timepieces, and visit him before breakfast. Many persons having business with the church, go to the jewellers to settle; then they have an opportunity of seeing clocks and watches that excite a penchant for antiquities.
The gunsmiths are tolerably good. There are more old pieces in their shops than new ones. It is doubtful if a Cochabambino ever "invented" a gun, but they repair stocks and barrels to satisfaction, and charge double prices.
Indian women purchase of the merchants cotton goods, needles, thread, beads, scissors, brass or silver thimbles, and small looking glasses, which they retail in the plaza under the willow trees and along the shady sides of the streets, working at their needles, or spinning wool and cotton by hand, during any leisure; others sell shoes. The fruit huxters are invariably the fattest, and the dry goods sellers the best looking, and always dressed surprisingly neat. The girls from Calacala, who bring potatoes and quinua, have a more country air.
Market place—Cinchona bark—Funeral ceremonies—Longevity—Kindness of British and Brazilian ministers—French schoolmistresses—Ancient habitation—Sucre, the capital—Departments of Chuquisaca and Tarija—River Bermejo—Distribution of vegetable life—Visit to Lake Uarauara—Snow line—Balls—Theatre—Department of Santa Cruz—Creole population—Daily life—Province of Chiquitos—Indians—Labors of the Jesuits—Paraguay river.
On the regular days the market place is crowded with Indians selling, while creoles are the principal buyers. The market is conveniently arranged; on one side are the dry-goods huxters; on another, those with shoes and beads. Beef, mutton, and pork are kept by themselves, while fruits occupy a separate part. In the centre a number of women cook chupe for those who are from home. In the street stand droves of jackasses patiently waiting with forefeet hobbled. Children sleep while slung to their mothers' backs. The gay laugh of the Indian girls often makes the country boys sputter their chupe. Small bundles of wood and charcoal are brought from the further side of the ridge. Indians leave town with the setting sun and return during the night, driving donkeys loaded with snow to be sold to the ice-cream facturers. These various businesses are on a small scale, but all contribute their mite, and the market of Cochabamba is well supplied with everything the inhabitants need. The candle-makers do a good business. Oil costs so much after the transit across the mountains that it is seldom used. We were present when a merchant unpacked some boxes of French wines and sweet oil. Every fourth bottle was broken, and some bottles empty. This loss was deducted from the pay of the arriero. The poor man looked sad at the smallness of his receipts after fourteen days labor over the mountains from the coast. French articles excite the fancy of the people very much, such as work-boxes, cigar cases, fancy lace. The women sometimes buy, for the sake of getting the pretty paper boxes the French put their goods in. Very common glassware sells well, but costly articles are more or less injured by the journey, and find few purchasers here. The people are more fond of trade than any other employment; they seem to take pleasure in buying and selling again, and to possess an active industry seldom met with.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.COCHABAMBA MARKET WOMAN.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.COCHABAMBA MARKET WOMAN.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.
Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.
COCHABAMBA MARKET WOMAN.
The great business house in Cochabamba is the bank for the deposit and purchase of cinchona bark, gathered along the northeast side of aridge in the province of Yuracares. This bark was first gathered in quantities in 1849, though known for many years. The best quality is not quite equal to that of Yungas, but only second to it. There are four other classes of inferior bark, for some of which the bank pays fifteen dollars per quintal. The best, by law, is worth fifty-four dollars. The freight to Arica is seventeen dollars the mule load of three quintals. Six thousand quintals of bark have already been gathered from Yuracares. The bank was established in the year 1851. Mr. Haenke mentioned the existence of cinchona bark on his visit to Yuracares in 1796, but it was never closely examined until 1850, when it was found to be of such good quality that the people of Cochabamba endeavored to get a bank established upon an improved plan. This was not agreeable to those at La Paz, and when the Yuracares bark was sent to that bank to have its value determined, it was pronounced bad. The judges of Tacna, Lima, and Valparaiso gave a different opinion. A shrewd business man of Cochabamba requested his agent in La Paz to forward a quintal of Yungas bark that had already passed inspection as good bark through their bank. It was then made up in the Cochabamba fashion, and bearing a Yuracares mark, was sent back to the La Paz bank. In regular course it was pronounced bad. The case was then laid before the government; a new company was formed, and a bank was established here, but without the proposed improvements.
The eighth article of the last constitution declares, "All men may enter the territory of Bolivia, live in it, and are at liberty to take away with them their property, paying duties to the treasury, according to laws of police and the custom-house."
The forests are open to all who choose to enter them; the business is more valuable than mining. Men sometimes remain after the rainy season has commenced. We have dreadful accounts of the loss of life among the woodsmen this month (December) by the sickness brought on by exposure to the climate. Many poor families are without husbands and fathers. They have died in the woods, while seeking fortunes.
The Indians comparatively pay little attention to the business. They make use of cinchona, as well as of other barks, but seldom trade with it. There is a bark from the province of Matto Grosso, in Brazil, which the Indians prefer in cases of fever and ague. It is from a large tree with very small leaves, violet blossoms, and the bark very hard. They boil it in water till the decoction becomes deep red, and then drink it. It is said by them to be a certain cure, although this bark is not yet known in the trade. The bank is obliged to keep watchmen along the roads to the entrances of the forests during the time the governmentprohibits the gathering of bark, to see there is no smuggling. This plan is both difficult and expensive. From Yungas the woodsmen sometimes find their way into Peru by secret paths through the tangled forests, and exchange bark under the shade of trees in the Amazon basin for the gold of Carabaya. It is astonishing to see the toil and labor these poor men go through under tropical sun and rains for this article of trade; yet neither they nor those having the monopoly appear to be accumulating money. The expenses of labor, the distance from market, and the want of system in the business appear to be obstructions. The law requires the woodsman to sell his bark to the bank; the company again are required by the same law to pay fixed prices per quintal. The market prices in the northern countries are so low that the bank is occasionally obliged to stop. The woodsmen crowd in and require money for their bark; the business becomes choked, and the people engaged are dissatisfied. Then the government is called upon for temporary relief for money to pay the woodsmen, or a decree to prohibit the gathering of bark until the market prices rise.
While in Cochabamba we witnessed ceremonials for the funeral of a little child. A number of ladies came to prepare the infant for the grave. They dressed it in a white silk frock, fastened on by diamond rings, and trimmed with gold and silver threads; the little feet and head bare. In its right hand was placed a golden cross, and in the left a small silver lamb. The coffin was lined with deep-blue silk, inside of which was placed a little bed; the whole hung by three bands of blue and white ribbon. While the ladies were engaged upon this preparation, they laughed and talked as though making very different preparations. The mother and family were brought in to see the arrangements. Six little boys, dressed in black, held the ribbons, and carried the child towards the church. The ladies, headed by the commadre (godmother) of the dead infant, followed, and after them friends on foot. The eldest sister was the only one of the family who followed to the church. As the boys moved along through the streets, Indian women crowded round to look at and admire the finery. The boys were cautioned to see that none of the jewellery were stolen. These are taken off after the body leaves the church for the graveyard, where the coffin is placed on a shelf in a brick wall above ground. Great care is taken that the coffin is not stolen, particularly when it is an expensive one. The same coffin is sold several times for eight dollars. Among the mestizos we are told are found many bad people. Twenty priests, with lighted candles, knelt in prayer by the music of "misa de las Angelas"—angels' mass. The ladies returned to the house of the mother, and spent theevening sociably, as though nothing had happened. The regular custom of the country is to have music and dancing in the house before the corpse is taken to the church, and even to bring in chicha; but as the father of this child was a foreigner, no such practice was permitted. The doctrine taught by the church seems to be, that as the child is in Heaven, it is cause for rejoicing and merry-making. This appears to be a bounty for negligence and inattention to life.
I saw a funeral passing through the streets of Cochabamba, preceded by a man with a five-gallon jar of chicha on his head. At the corners of the streets, when those who carried the corpse were tired, they all drank and sang, until the whole party became intoxicated, so that they did not reach the graveyard at all, and the funeral was postponed until the next day, when the same forms were practised we saw the day before.
This is the case only among the mestizos; the Indians are more orderly; show a more quiet respect, natural, and proper feeling. They often sit silently in rows by a corpse all night mourning for the loss of a fellow Indian. There is among them a deep, heartfelt expression, that carries with it outwardly an unmistakeable and truthful inward grief.
The funeral of a wealthy creole is attended by gentlemen dressed in black, invited by printed cards, who carry long tallow candles through the streets, accompanied by music. A train of Franciscan friars and portable altars put up at the corners between the houses and some church. Masses are said agreeably to order, and a charge is made in the funeral bills for chicha, cigars, coca, wine, cooking apparatus, with other church expenses, amounting to nearly three hundred dollars. We witnessed such a bill paid for a friend, and could not avoid making a comparison between the articles and the list of mess stores drawn up by an old sailor on the eve of his departure for a cruise round Cape Horn.
Men do not live to a very old age in Cochabamba, eighty years being the oldest known at present. Girls sometimes bear children at the age of thirteen; twelve years is the marriageable age, both for creoles and Indians. The proportion of marriages in this country is small for the amount of population. I regret to be obliged to say the most moral portion is found among the aboriginal race. The Indian, with his wife and children around him, cultivates the soil, while the creoles and mestizos are idle and generally unmarried people. Since the establishment of the government, in the year 1826 to the year 1851, during twenty-five years, the population has increased from about one million to one million and a half. Few people leave the country, and few emigrate to it.
In the streets of Cochabamba there are many beggars, blind andcrazy. It was the practice of one friend to open his door and let into the patio on Saturday about fifty miserable-looking creatures—men, women, and children—not one of them Indians; each was served with two loaves of bread by the hands of his little daughters.
Through the polite interposition of her Britannic Majesty's minister in Sucre, the Brazilian envoy kindly sent me passports to the authorities on my route, and also wrote to the governor of the province of Matto Grosso in my behalf.
The Extraordinary Minister Plenipotentiary from Brazil had made a short speech to the President and his cabinet, at a dinner in Sucre, on the navigation of the Amazon river and its tributaries, by which it was understood he had been sent to desire the exclusive right to navigate the branches of the Madeira flowing through the territory of Bolivia. An enterprising and intelligent gentleman, engaged in the trade of cinchona bark in Cochabamba, and a friend of President Belzu, answered the Brazilian minister. He said it would be more advantageous to Bolivia to grant that privilege to a company belonging to a nation who would introduce the mechanic arts, machinery, and agricultural implements, into the lowlands and proper tools for mining operations. He was in favor of the navigation being opened to the commercial people of North America. To this the Brazilian minister replied, that the North Americans had already annexed a large territory from Mexico, and he considered such a proposition an invitation for them to come to South America. As he had not been received in an official character by the government of Bolivia, he demanded his passport, and retired from the contest.
In the opinion of some, it was thought a wise plan to induce the President of Bolivia to declare towns on the branches of the Madeira free ports of entry to the commerce of the world. By others it was considered an impolitic movement, as there might be proved a necessity to land cargoes in the territory of Brazil at certain points of obstruction between the Atlantic and Bolivia, and no affront should be offered the Brazilian government, with whom it was necessary to be upon good terms for the accomplishment of a great commercial enterprise. The merchants of Cochabamba used their influence with the cabinet ministers to discourage any act which might stand in the way of a right to pass down to the ocean through the territory of Brazil, or, in case of natural obstructions—such as falls and rapids—to prevent an amicable arrangement for portages on land between these two nations.
The President has appointed two French ladies schoolmistresses for the public schools supported by the government for the education ofthe poor children in Cochabamba. These ladies come from the other side of the world to teach, and by our particular request one of them promised to lead the ideas of the children along the current of the small stream flowing by the school-house through all its turnings, until she got them to understand how easy it would be to go that way to the land of her forefathers.
A large congregation of the intelligent people of Cochabamba were present at the opening of this institution. The prefect of the department and bishop appeared in their official robes. The gentlemen present were of many colors.
The ladies of Cochabamba very seldom smoke or use tobacco, except as snuff, and then it seems to be for the pleasure of sneezing; a practice frequently resorted to by the bishop, who wore a handsome diamond ring.
The prefect addressed the audience, and gave his authority for opening the institution. One of the French ladies rose and read, in a clear and intelligible voice, thanks to the government for her appointment, promising to exert herself to the best of her ability, setting forth the wide difference between the well-educated lady and the savage woman.
There are three schools in the city for boys, and two other small ones for girls. The great difficulty seems to be in the selection of teachers. While the government was here the boys had holiday, the troops being quartered in the school-houses.
There was no public journal published in Cochabamba on our arrival; but a Ramage press was soon set in motion upon the subject of the navigable rivers and commerce of Bolivia. A pamphlet was published, called "Revista"; we received the first number, and found that the young merchants of the city had contributedpoetry.
The "Revista" is the fourth public journal in the country. Besides two small papers in La Paz, there is one published in Sucre—"El Eco de la Opinion," which with the rest are all careful to be of the same opinion as the government upon public as well as private matters. Indeed, we perceive no freedom of expression, as we would consider it in the United States.
The Indians' houses are small and generally have but one room. In the centre is a high adobe stand, built up to obstruct a view from the street. In one corner is an adobe bedstead, which is used for a seat. Around the earthy wall is hung a strip of cotton cloth to protect visitors' clothes from being soiled. In a small wooden box all the valuables are kept, such as clothes, money, and ornaments. On the wall are hung a few pictures of saints and angels, purchased from the clergy, with hereand there a wooden cross, decorated with flowers. In one corner are earthen and copper pots or kettles, with a few large stones, between which the fire is made. In another corner is usually found a squadron of white, black, or yellow Guinea pigs, grunting and burrowing in the ground floor to the great amusement of the aboriginal children, who are very partial to them when converted into chupe.
The ancient habitations of the Indians of this valley are rotund, built entirely of moistened clay and stone, with but one entrance. These houses are going out of fashion, though many of them are used at the present day. There are a number of ruins about the valley, supposed to be of the style of ancient times. The art of building archways was an accomplishment of the Aymara tribe, of which we found no signs near the Inca capital.
The Indian ploughs a strait furrow with a team of oxen, although he knew nothing of such animals until the Spaniard came. He rides a young, unbroken horse bare-backed, sticking so close to the hide that his legs chafe the hair off; yet his forefathers had not a donkey to practise upon. The Indian is desirous that his children shall be taught. A fine-looking old man wanted to know if I would have his son to bring up, informing me of his good qualities, and saying that José had told him I was the sort of man to whom he should give his child. He evidently was not pleased at my declining his offer, notwithstanding José explained to him that my home was far off to the north; to which he replied, "No importa;" that was no objection.
A number of lakes are in the valley and on the mountains in the neighborhood of this city. During a dry time, no frogs are heard; but the moment the thunder roars, or the lightning flashes, they sing songs of thankfulness; the valley is made gay with their voices after rains. The wild ducks bathe in the calm waters, near the willow trees which shade the Indian's hut, and is also adorned with sweet orange blossoms, while the dry barren hills are baked into crust, and the sheared sheep look half starved for want of pasture.
The clover or lucerne that fattens horses, mules, horned cattle, and jackasses, is not relished by the sheep and llama. The latter animal is seldom found here, and unless forced down, never seeks the climate or grasses of this valley. The horse as well as black cattle thrive, and the hog is at his ease. There are few bees; we observe ants on clear days providing against wet weather; they are very exclusive. Humming birds are numerous; blackbirds, and three or four kinds resembling the cedar bird and sparrow, are seen. An ugly and very ill-natured hawk resides on the sides of the hills among the cactus and the doves.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.ANCIENT QUICHUA INDIAN HUT, COCHABAMBA, Bolivia.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.ANCIENT QUICHUA INDIAN HUT, COCHABAMBA, Bolivia.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.
Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.
ANCIENT QUICHUA INDIAN HUT, COCHABAMBA, Bolivia.
We mounted our mules, which were saddled and fastened under a lemon tree, early in the morning. After passing through the rich gardens of Calacala, we wound our way through small bushes and cactus to the hacienda "Miraflores," where the people go in the month of January every year to eat strawberries and cream. As we rode up to the house an old Indian's head appeared on the one side of a pea-patch in full flower, as the sun peeped through a gorge in the mountains on the other. We were admiring the rich growth of vegetation at the base of the great mountain range, where green fields of barley appear at the mouth of a deep ravine, when we suddenly heard a crash, and looking round, saw Richards with mule, saddle, and gear falling over the rocky ground, for there was no road, and we had to take it rough and tumble; fortunately there was nothing broken except the saddle-girth and the stock of a gun, which the old Indian kindly enough assisted us in repairing, and sent his little boy to show us a path leading up the mountain side, dry and unproductive for some distance. Our mules were in fine condition, but suffered in the steep ascent, being rather fat for such work. We met jackasses descending with loads of potatoes, beans, peas, barley, and oca, a species of potato, of a purple color, which is boiled and eaten as a vegetable, or put in chupe. The Indians pay great attention to the cultivation of the oca; its vine resembles the bean plant. Proceeding still further, we met with good pasture for cattle. The oxen were in fine condition, equal to those in the valley below. Here the Indians and their families live the year round, cultivating their little gardens for the markets of Cochabamba. Our mules are wet with perspiration, and we gain an uncultivated and uninhabited region, clothed in a thick sod of mountain grasses. The whistle of the vicuña is heard, and we dismounted to get a shot at three large partridges, the size of hens, the "Perdiz Grande," which are found on the pampas of Buenos Ayres. Our mules suddenly turn gray by frost formed on the ends of their hair. The clouds are forming, and we seat ourselves under their cool shade to breakfast, with a snow-capped mountain above, and far below the valley and city in full view. The farther side of the valley appears tilted up out of its level; beyond are the everlasting mountains.
The road through those hills leads south to the capital Sucre, with a population of 19,235. Sucre was founded by the title of "La Plata," silver, in a district known in the early days of the Spaniards as "Charcas." It was afterwards changed to "Chuqui Chaca," the Indian name for "gold place." It seems to have been a doubtful question among the Spaniards which was most appropriate, a golden or a silver title, both metals being found there. The republicans called the country after "theirWashington," as Bolivar is often spoken of.
The department of Chuquisaca, of which Sucre is the capital, has a population of 117,503 Creoles, and 34,287 Quichua Indians. Half of that department is situated in the Madeira Plate, and the other in La Plata basin. Sucre stands on the edge of each; the water flowing from the south side of the city runs into the South Atlantic ocean; that towards us pays tribute to the North Atlantic. The Mamoré waters this side of the department, and the Pilcomayo the other side. We left the latter stream, when first noticed, where it broke through the Andes in the department of Potosi.
The climates of Potosi and Oruro are cold; those of Cochabamba and Chuquisaca temperate. The sky in the night on this steppe is generally clear. The productions of Chuquisaca are the same as in Cochabamba, with the addition of pasture for cattle, and timber in the ravines. In La Plata basin the traveller finds the Indian cultivating the sugar cane on the banks of the Pilcomayo, and distilling brandy and rum. From grapes he makes wine of good quality. The sugar mills are constructed of timber at hand. The tropical fruits, as the orange, lemon, chirimoyas, granadillas, and limes, grow in the valleys, while the productions of the table lands of the cold regions are found among the hills. Near the Andes, in the Pilcomayo, gold has been washed, and among the mountains there are abandoned silver mines. Five silver mines are reported to be worked at present. Stone coal, tin, copper, lead, and iron are natives. Rice is raised there, and the chick pea or brown bean, so much esteemed by the Spaniards. Particles of gold, rolled down from the foot of the Andes, have been washed from the alluvial soil near the river. It appears strange that gold should be found on the west side of the Cordilleras, and at the eastern base of the Andes, while on top silver predominates. We trace a connected outpouring of gold on the tributaries of the Pilcomayo, Mamoré, Beni, and Madre-de-Dios. Our map will show the links of this golden chain as wonderful as the golden legends told of the wealth of the Incas.
There are some very curious and ancient remains of magnificent edifices in the department of Chuquisaca which excite admiration, but to whom they originally belonged still remains a mystery.
Looking far south we see on our map the department of Tarija, with a population of 53,666 Creoles, and 9,108 friendly Indians; but the eastern portion of this department is inhabited by tribes of very savage Indians, of whom there is little known. They roam among the forests and grassy plains, or among those great mountains which separate Bolivia from the Argentines.
The town of Tarija, capital of the department, contains a populationof 5,129, and is situated on one of the tributaries of the river Bermejo, which flows through the Argentine confederation into the Paraguay. My impressions, from information, are that the Bermejo is a deeper and a slower-motioned stream than the Pilcomayo, and that small sail-vessels may reach the town of Oran, a short distance south of the southern boundary of Bolivia. We are not, however, as certain of this as we are that the Pilcomayo has been reported not navigable in Bolivia. There is a wide field for exploration on La Plata. Grape-vines produce luxuriously in Tarija, and there the Paraguay tea—"yerba del Paraguay," is found. Cochabamba, Chuquisaca, and Tarija, are the corn-growing departments of this country; Potosi and La Paz are the potato districts.
The distribution of vegetable life, as presented to us in their elevated regions, places the potato the highest; the other plants run down in order—quinua, barley, wheat, coffee, and sugar-cane. Therefore the inhabitants on this side of the mountains have a self-sustaining supply without looking to other countries for sugar, wine, flower, potatoes, or tea; and the varieties of animal life offer them mutton and wool from the highlands, with beef and tallow candles from the steppe, on which exists the most dense population.
Our mules rested, and our breakfast over, we mount and slowly struggle upwards again; the bright sun shines clear upon the city below, while we have a cloudy day. It is interesting to see from under this cloudy curtain the beautiful natural-colored scene on this stage of wonderful creation. The panorama brilliantly lighted by the sun, which sparkles on the waters of the river as they dash along among the deep green foliage. The lakes are like mirrors, only rippled by the green breast of the wild duck. A long train of mules winds along the road from the Pacific; we just hear the great bell of the cathedral toll, when the clouds unroll and fall, shutting out light and view, as a mountain eagle shrieks. The scene soon changes as we climb higher up among the bare-headed rocky peaks; on our left is one gray with the snows of perpetual winter; on the right a great avalanche of earth has fallen from the crown of a mountain into the ravine, as though blown off by the prevailing winds from the opposite side. The jackasses we meet are loaded with fire-wood and charcoal, from an extensive growth on the eastern face. The Indians wear long hair on the back of the head, and never cultivate a growth on their faces.
The water draining from the snow forms the Lake Uarauara, which is dammed up at its outlet during the rainy season, and let out gradually in the dry, for the supply of Cochabamba. The chart will show its height above the city. We were disappointed in not finding game;neither water-fowl nor fish were seen. The waters are transparent and silent; nothing was moving except the clouds and the small veins of cold snow-water. Thin sheets of ice lie near the lake, and patches of snow on the brow of the mountains resemble white cloths spread out on the ground to dry. Some of the rocks were broken in such perfect forms that we were almost induced to take them for houses, and hunt up a washwoman. The temperature of the water was 59°; air, 54°. In the valley of Cochabamba the temperature of a spring was 62° Fahrenheit.
A small quantity of the snow on a peak near this lake remains through the dry season; in the wet season the snow-line is constantly sliding up and down the sides of the mountains. When very damp the snow appears lowest, and sometimes reaches half-way down to Cochabamba; in the morning, as the sun rises, and his effects are felt, the lower edge of the snow-line is melted off, and to the eye it seems travelling up hill. The clouds are regulated by the precipitation. When there is much rain cloudy days follow, and the curtain round the valley arises from the moisture on the mountains. The lower edge of the curtain is lowered down in the morning exactly to the lower edge of the snow, and as it is evaporated the curtain rises in the evening, in time for those in the valley to behold the sun set behind clearly defined snow-peaks.
The climate, therefore, is very variable in the valley between the months of December and May. I have noted the thermometer in Cochabamba, 12th January, at 69°; in five minutes after, it was as low as 52° in the same place, in the shade. A man planting tube roses in his garden, without a coat, and in sheeting trousers, would run suddenly into the house for thick cloth clothing; in the mean time the hard hail-stones destroy his flowers and drive cattle from their pastures.
Heavy storms frequently arise in the wet season, and blow violently through the valley, from southeast. The hail beats so hard upon the pear trees that the delicate leaves are broken from the upper branches, and the blossoms are destroyed. The hot sun withers the ends of the limbs, and they die, so that all the pear trees are stunted; and instead of large, clear limbs, the under branches are sapped by numbers of suckers that shoot out and rob the fruit of its life. Hence it is that not only pears but apples are very indifferent, but might be improved by trimming the trees, which the Indian does not seem to understand, and the creole cares less for the tree than for the fruit.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.LA LAGUNA DE UARA-UARA.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.LA LAGUNA DE UARA-UARA.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.
Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.
LA LAGUNA DE UARA-UARA.
The willow grows up like a poplar; its narrow leaves present such a small surface to the hail or sun that they may be said to grow between thedrops. It is the tallest tree in the valley. The willow naturally grows by the side of streams, where the roots creep out into water or swampy ground. The apple produces best on higher and drier earth. Almost every plant in this valley has to be raised by irrigation.
We returned, after a harassing ride to Miraflores, "see the flowers," where we found the old Indian's wife had provided chupe for us, and lucerne for our animals. She had stirred in so much "ajé"—the red dwarf pepper—that we preferred her boiled corn. This seemed so strange she dropped several stitches in the woollen stockings she was knitting, and looked as much as to say, "Where do you come from, that you don't like ajé?" When she was paid for her kindness, she laughed, gave us apples, and sent her son to show the way through the peach trees and strawberry patches. The attention of the Indians is much attracted to hear us talking in English. They listen, look at each other, listen again, and say "don't understandthat." Then they close up and stand in deep thought as they reflect. When they see we want anything they offer assistance or kindness, which shows a frank, honest hospitality to strangers. They seldom ask for anything; when they receive a gift it is with a quiet modesty, which speaks their thanks more plainly than words.
On our return to Buena Vista, in town, near the alameda, we found José with a fine young dog, which had been sent by a friend, and which we named Mamoré. The dogs in this country are often a miserable breed of curs. Mamoré appears to be a cross between a Spanish terrier and the mastiff; while very brave he is very affectionate, and being young enough to be spoiled by too much company, we train him as sentinel at night, and keep him very exclusive; his services may be very much needed on the journey; his color is yellowish brown, and he is of large size. The Indians are so partial to dogs that they raise more than they can conveniently support. The young aborigines seem to have greater fondness for animals than for each other. We have seen two of them pelting one another with mud balls, while a third seated on a sow, looking with delight at nine squealers helping themselves to milk. When she rose on her fore-feet, the child rolled off among the pigs, laughingly grasping the first tail in his way, to the great annoyance of his hungry companions.
We have news of the mail being stopped between Sucre and Oruro by a heavy fall of snow on the Andes, which was deep enough to break in the roofs of houses in Oruro, while here peaches are sold in the market.
The peach tree flourishes better than the apple, but both fruit andtree are small. The quince grows to an unusual size in the valley, and the trees are loaded with fruit of golden yellow.
The merchants are keeping back their remittances to the Pacific on account of numerous robberies reported in the snowy regions.
The young gentlemen give a ball every month in the palace, and performances at the theatre, which was once a church. On both occasions the families of the city are brought sociably together. The balls are believed to produce political concord, and are very gay. A Sucre lady inquired if "Cochabamba girls dressed in good taste?" The creoles seem anxious to know the opinion strangers have of them. The North American midshipmen used to say, the height of their enjoyment was to dance with the South American girls. The beauty, manners, and grace of the ladies here cannot be disputed; they are naturally gifted with a pleasing flow of conversation, keen-sighted, and witty. Their bright black eyes flash beneath an irresistible and modest smile; their long, black hair is neatly arranged abroad, but at home it usually hangs plaited over the shoulders and breast. They appear more proud of small feet than of lovely eyes and snow-white necks. In walking they carry themselves straight, and show their graceful figures to advantage; their motions are slow and steady. A bloom on the cheek gives them a fresh, healthy appearance as they ride spirited horses by the side of their lovers, through the gardens of Calacala, before sunrise in the morning.
At midday, on the 12th of May, 1852, we mounted and followed a train of nineteen loaded mules towards the east. Our baggage was reduced one half upon each animal. By law, the arriero may charge full price in descending the eastern side of the Andes for half the load carried on the roads of the table lands. The train followed a white mare with a bell hung to her neck. Four arrieros were accompanied by a number of women, carrying jars of chicha. The party seemed to have been drinking over night, and bent upon a frolic. They succeeded in seducing José, who rode along with our tent pole on his shoulder, and hat pulled over his eyes, ordering about men and women, until I was called upon to settle a difficulty between him and the chief arriero's wife. Richards was carefully guarding Mamoré for fear we would lose him. After some trouble in keeping the baggage mules from escaping up the cross streets, we bid farewell to Cochabamba. On the river bank the women seated themselves in a row to take the last dram with the men who were going with us. They shouted, sang, and danced; then shaking hands all round, the arrieros called to their mules, and we all moved along single file on our way home through the river bed, which was now dry again, the wet season being just over.
The minister of state sent circular instructions to all the authorities on my route,rubricondedby President Belzu, by which they ordered the prefects and governors to facilitate the expedition.
The President usually signs public documents with his peculiar mark or flourish alone, without writing his name. No man's signature in the country is valued without getting him to "rubricar" the document also. The custom is a Spanish one. They have been known to use their own blood or red ink, but the black ink does as well and is lawful. Our receipt book is a mostflourishingvolume. After José signs his name for his monthly wages, he straddles his legs, turns his head sideways, and gives a most gallant dash, occupying the remainder of the page, often through the paper on to the next leaf, with the point of the pen. We observe all along the route that the people generallydashbetter than they write. The rule may have originated for the advantage of those who could not write.
Passing over a level road and through the small town of Sacaba, we slung our hammock on the piazza of a hacienda at the foot of the ridge of mountains. Mamoré whipped the big house-dog and played with the small ones, while the fleas retaliated upon us. The mule drivers laughed among themselves when they saw us washing our faces in the morning, while they were snugly wrapped up in their ponchos. The country girls are quite pretty. The drovers we met on the road with horned cattle for the Cochabamba market, said they came from Villa Grande, in the department of Santa Cruz, to the southeast of us. The cattle come up with the winds. They are of good size and condition.
We turned to the northeast, rising up on the mountain. Leaving the valley of Cochabamba, the road lies through a gorge in a range where the Indians were digging potatoes and reaping barley. Descending again, we encamped for the night by an Indian stone hut, amidst the harvest fields. Don Cornello, our head arriero, purchased a sheep in partnership with us, and his men dressed it for the journey. One of them, who suffered with chills, Cornello dosed with a solution of cinchona bark from a bottle he carried with his bread in his saddle wallets.
In this small mountain basin, the thermometer stands at 52°, at 6 p. m., and wet bulb, 53°, with heavy frost in the morning. From the last ridge of mountains we see that the waters flowing towards the northeast go directly to the river Mamoré, and those which run to the southeast are tributary to the same stream, winding around the ridge, at the end of which is situated the city of Santa Cruz, which has a population of six thousand souls. The department contains a population offorty-two thousand two hundred and eighty-four whites, and twenty-six thousand three hundred and seventy-three aborigines. Santa Cruz is the rice-growing state of this country; it being mostly situated in the bottom of the Madeira Plate. Its climate is truly tropical—both hot and moist. It is well wooded and watered. Among the level lands there are lakes, and on the road to the town of Matto Grosso, there are alternately forests and plains covered with a growth of herd grass on which cattle flourish. Tropical fruits are raised in the gardens of Santa Cruz. The weavers of Cochabamba receive their cotton thence, as well as sugar and molasses. Both coffee and chocolate are of excellent quality, and some of the tobacco is equal to that of Cuba. The Nankin cotton of China is produced of a bright color, and contrasts beautifully with the white. The vanilla bean grows by the side of the Indigo plant. The Indian cultivates the pea-nut along the sandy banks of the rivers. The white man reports signs of cinnabar among the mountains at the end of this ridge, where wheat, maize, potatoes, and grapes are found.
The skins of spotted and black tigers are exported to the cold departments, with hides of horned cattle, horses, and the sloth. The feathers and skins of rare birds, snakes, and lizards are gathered among forest trees of the most brilliant colors. The cochineal insect has its place, while different species of bees supply the inhabitants with honey and wax.
The distance from the town of Santa Cruz to Cochabamba is one hundred and seven leagues. The arrieros generally lag along the road thirty days with a cargo of chocolate, coffee, and sugar, or with cotton manufactures, glassware, and salt in return. The trip from Santa Cruz to Cobija is made generally within three months by the way of Cochabamba and Potosi; the distance by the road being three hundred and forty-five leagues. The return cargo may arrive in three months more, but it is not certain that two trips to the Pacific coast and back can be made in one year. It must not be supposed a very extensive foreign trade is carried on with the department of Santa Cruz, though a most dense population is found on its western border. When we look at the list of productions in that region of country, we are struck with the independence of its inhabitants upon all external trade. A breakfast table in Santa Cruz, constructed of beautiful cedar wood, is described, covered with white cotton cloth, silver plates and dishes, with silver cups, forks, and spoons; coffee, sugar, cream, butter, corn and wheat bread, mutton, eggs, and oranges, are all produced in the province. Beef is found on the pampa, game in the woods, and fish in the rivers. Potatoes and all the garden vegetables are raised upon the plantations. The arm chairof the creole is made of the ornamental "Caoba," or mahogany tree. Eight guests may be seated, each one in a different species of mahogany. His Indian servants gather grapes, make wine, collect the tropical fruits, and tobacco; while his wife or daughter take pride in well-made cigars. The climate is such that horses roam about all the year; there is no expense for stabling the animals. No barns are necessary for the protection of his harvests during a hard winter. His house may be as open as a shed. What little thin clothing and bedding his family require are supplied by the soil, and worked into fine cloth by the hands of Indians, who spin, weave, and sew. Silver he cares little for except in table use. Gold ounces are melted into crosses and earrings for the Indian girls. The inhabitants of Santa Cruz are therefore the most indolent in the world; under its hospitable climate, few men exert themselves beyond what is absolutely necessary.
It may be well to give, from report, an outline of the daily life of a family in this town. Very early in the morning the creole, getting out of bed, throws himself into a hamac; his wife stretches herself upon a bench near by, while the children seat themselves with their legs under them on the chairs,allin their night dresses. The Indian servant girl enters with a cup of chocolate for each member of the family. After which, she brings some coals of fire in a silver dish. The wife lights her husband a cigar, then one for herself. Some time is spent reclining, chatting, and regaling. The man slowly pulls on his cotton trousers, woollen coat, leather shoes, and vicuña hat, with his neck exposed to the fresh air,—silk handkerchiefs are scarce,—he walks to some near neighbors, with whom he again drinks chocolate and smokes another cigar.
At midday a small low table is set in the middle of the room, and the family go to breakfast. The wife sits next to her husband; the women are very pretty and affectionate to their husbands. He chooses her from amongfive, there being about that number of women to one man in the town. The children seat themselves, and the dogs form a ring behind. The first dish is a chupe of potatoes with large pieces of meat. The man helps himself first, and throws his bones straight across the table; a child dodges his head to give it a free passage, and the dogs rush after it as it falls upon the ground floor. A child then throws his bone, the mother dodges, and the dogs rush behind her. The second dish holds small pieces of beef without bones. Dogs are now fighting. Next comes a dish with finely-chopped beef; then beef soup, vegetables, and fruits; finally, coffee or chocolate. After breakfast the man pulls off his trousers and coat and lies down with his drawers in the hamac.His wife lights him a cigar. She finds her way back to bed with her cigar. The dogs jump up and lie down on the chairs—the fleas bite them on the ground. The Indian girl closes both doors and windows, takes the children out to play, while the rest of the family sleep.
At 2 p. m. the church bells ring to let the people know the priests are saying a prayer for them, which rouses them up. The man rises, stretches his hand above his head, and gapes; the dogs get down, and whiningly stretch themselves; while the wife sets up in bed and loudly calls out for "fire;" the Indian girl re-appears with a "chunk" for her mistress to light her master another cigar, and she smokes again herself. The dinner, which takes place between 3 and 5, and is nearly the same as breakfast, except when a beef is recently killed by the Indians, then they have a broil. The ribs and other long bones of the animal are trimmed of flesh, leaving the bones thinly coated with meat; these are laid across a fire and roasted; the members of the family, while employed with them, look as if all were practising music.
A horse is brought into the house by an Indian man, who holds while the "patron" saddles and bridles him; he then puts on a large pair of silver spurs, which cost forty dollars, and mounting, he rides out of the front door to the opposite house; halting, he takes off his hat and calls out "Buenas tardes, señoritas"—good evening, ladies. The ladies make their appearance at the door; one lights him a cigar; another mixes him a glass of lemonade to refresh himself after his ride. He remains in the saddle talking, while they lean gracefully against the door-posts, smiling with their bewitching eyes. He touches his hat and rides off to another neighbor. After spending the afternoon in this way, he rides into his house again. The Indian holds the horse by the bridle while the master dismounts. Taking off the saddle, he throws it into one chair, the bridle into another, his spurs on a third, and himself into the hamac; the Indian leads out the horse, the dogs pull down the riding gear to the floor, and lay themselves on their usual bedsteads.
Chocolate and cigars are repeated. Should the creole be handed a letter of introduction by a stranger travelling through the country, he immediately offers his hamac and a cup of chocolate. The baggage will be attended to, and as long as the traveller remains, he is treated by the family with a degree of kindness and politeness seldom met with in fashionable parts of the world. No alteration will be made in their mode of living on account of his being among them, except that the dogs and horses are kept out of the house, and there is less dodging of bones. Pride and a natural feeling of good manners prevent the stranger from seeing such performances. The creole speaks of the wealth of hiscountry in the most exaggerated manner; he has so many of the good things of the world at his door, that he naturally boasts; he thinks little of other parts of the world; he has no idea of leaving his own fruits and flowers. The roads are bad; he cares little for their use. When he leaves his native city, it is more for pleasure than for commerce. He is not obliged to build railroads that he may receive at low rates of freight the tea of China; the sugar of the West Indies; the flour, iron, or cotton goods of North America. His own climate is so agreeable that he seldom wishes to travel; there is no place likehishome! When the traveller inquires how he would like to see a steamboat come to the mouth of the Piray river, the water of which he drinks, his eyes brighten, and he smilingly says "he would be delighted;" at once telling what he would put on board of her as a cargo for the people who sent her. He is contented with the roads constructed by the hand of the Creator of all things; but the creole is honest in his desire to see what he has never yet seen—a steam-engine move a vessel. He is ready to sell his produce to those who come to him; yet when you inquire what he desires from other parts of the world, it is very certain, from the length of time it takes him to answer, that he seldom thinks he is in want of anything; and if asked how much he is willing to subscribe towards purchasing a steamboat, his usual answer is, that "he has no money, and is very poor!"
The Spanish language is more generally spoken in Santa Cruz than in other parts of this country. The Indians are taught and practise that language to the exclusion of their own. The people of Santa Cruz pride themselves upon their pure Spanish, and ridicule the speech of those of other towns. The teachers of most of the schools in Cochabamba are natives of Santa Cruz, as well as the most intelligent of the clergy, who are generally foremost to speak of the advantages of establishing trade with the Atlantic ocean by the natural river road, instead of looking constantly towards the Pacific. Santa Cruz may be called the frontier town of the Spanish race, who have swept over the country from the Pacific. The bay of Arica bears due west from Santa Cruz. As the coast of South America bends at Arica, so the Spanish have pressed far in towards the centre of the continent, placing those on the eastern border of Bolivia nearer to the Atlantic than the people of Peru; although they seem to be farthest from the markets of the world, they are the nearest, and are best prepared for entering into commercial relations with the United States of the North.
The industrial, agricultural, and manufacturing people of this country are principally among the aborigines. They plant the sugar-cane,gather the coffee, work the mines, and transport silver, copper, and tin to the coast of the Pacific. Looking on the map, and running the eye along the road from the town of Santa Cruz towards the southeast, the traveller finds a country nearly level. Among hills near the river Paraguay, in the province of Chiquitos, the inhabitants are composed of many tribes of Indians; some savages are warlike, while others are inoffensive and friendly to the whites. Those of the small villages of Santiago and Jesus are described as nearer the color of chalk than of copper, and to be a robust, intelligent people, willing to be taught the Spanish language, to cultivate the soil, tend cattle, and give up the life of wandering for that of the civilized man, under the instruction and labors of the Jesuits; while the tribes south of them, near the mouths of the rivers Pilcomayo and Bermejo, obstinately refused any such interference, and remain savage to this day. They are the Gran Chaco Indians, and are called Tobas. As they are unfriendly, we have no account of their number, and will confine ourselves to the Chiquiteños, who understand the art of planting and gathering a harvest, the management of cattle on the grassy plains, and the collecting of wax from the forest trees, with which, and the cotton they cultivate, they pay tribute to the State, as well as with salt from lakes found in the wild regions. In their little huts are carpenters, blacksmiths, silversmiths, shoemakers, tailors, and tanners. Their houses are usually built of adobe, and thatched with coarse grass; yet they were taught to burn tiles for the roof of their little church. For the purpose of manufacturing sugar and melting wax, they erected founderies to smelt, and fabricated their own copper boilers. The cotton of their small farms is woven by hand into ponchos, hamacs, saddle cloths, and the fine cloths of which their white frocks are made, after a fashion of their own invention, in bark. The women in Chiquitos are good farmers; most of the spinning is performed by them, as well as the manufacturing of chicha from corn and yuca.
They find gold and silver in the tributaries of the Otuguis river, with which they decorate the altars of their churches and hammer into crosses, ear and finger-rings.
The men make straw hats, more for sale than for their own use—for both sexes go bare-headed—a good sign of a delightful climate, as it is said to be. The baskets made of the leaf of the palm-tree, which grows in the plains, are carried on their backs as they travel through the country. On such occasions they are armed with bows and arrows. In the Spanish settlements, near the unfriendly tribes, they are permitted to attend church with war-clubs and other weapons, for the protection oftheir wives and children from an attack while at prayers. The church bell is a signal to the savage, but he takes occasion at times to commit murder under its calling.
Their houses are very small, with but one entrance, so narrow and low that it is supposed the country was called Chiquitos, because of the little door-ways. When first the traveller peeps into the house all is darkness; on entering, the light from the hole he came through shines against a few earthen pots made by the women, an axe, macheta or cutlass, bows and arrows, pretty Indian girls, and dogs without number. The boys are rambling about; the old Indian and his wife are cultivating the chacra. Their great ambition seems to be celebrating the feast days of the church, playing ball, drinking chicha, and making love to the women.
These Indians are great musicians, playing upon the violin and tamborine, while the women sing and dance with grace. Few of them quarrel; should a difficulty take place, seldom more than three or four blows are struck. They all carry knives, but these are not often drawn. If one man kills another, his shame, compunction, and fear in after life is much worse than death, I am told.
The Chiquiteños are very apt in learning to read, write, and calculate. They have intelligence enough to know that knowledge is valuable to them, and the children speak Spanish with great ease.
Lime and plaster of Paris are found among the hilly portions of the province. Salt from the lakes is of great value where cattle are raised. There is a market for it in the Argentine republic, Paraguay, and in the Brazilian district of Matto Grosso. In all parts of this province saltpetre is found of which the aborigines manufacture powder, to make fire-works for the churches. The rockets, they send up towards the heavens, under the dark shade of night, light the wilderness around, and was one means used by the Jesuits to attract the attention of the wild man to seek religion. The Chiquiteños are a peaceful race; their gunpowder is only used for the purpose of lighting the way towards Heaven—a lesson to civilized men who sometimes employ it too freely for the destruction of their fellows on the earth, of which they form a hell!
The Indians cast church bells. Brass, copper, and zinc are sent by the Aymara Indians from the Titicaca basin in exchange for sugar and wax. They are unacquainted with the process of casting cannon, or the art of making the brass armor of olden times.
The Indian of Chiquitos, like the Creole of Santa Cruz, has his full share of the delights of this earth, which he enjoys in his own way. When he takes a fancy to wear striped trousers, he plants a row ofwhite cotton and a row of yellow. These colors contrast without the trouble of dye-stuff; should he wish a blue, he plants a row of indigo; when he requires red, he gathers cochineal from among the woods where he also finds a bark which produces a deep black, which the women often employ to dye their white dresses.
The heart-leaved bixa grows wild; the vanilla bean scents the doorway, while the coffee and chocolate trees shade it. The sugar cane may be planted in any part of the province, to be manufactured into sugar, rum, and molasses during the year of planting. The Indian understands the art of distilling. He cannot be considered intemperate, generally; considering his partiality for chicha, we are inclined to give him credit for self-denial, except when the saints' days of the Catholic church are celebrated, then it seems to be understood that much drinking is one of the conditions. Whatever good ideas may be instilled into their minds by the worship in the morning, are generally lost under the effects of strong drinks at night. This custom shocks the stranger. An excuse has been offered by some who resided among the more savage race of men, that in the exertions of the Jesuits to change the worship of these people from their own barbarous imitations of the actions of tigers and poisonous serpents, the priests were obliged to allow them to continue many of the most innocent popular customs, such as dancing, singing, and drinking, as well as fighting sham battles on a Sunday evening, until they were enabled to lead them gradually to perceive these were not the forms of worship which would most please the Almighty. Among these Indians, as among the people of Japan, "every custom is a part of their religion." Music has a powerful effect upon the savage, and therefore the Jesuits encouraged them to cultivate it, and as its influence over the limbs of the women was so great, that they could not stand still during that part of the church service, it was thought best to permit them to dance at the door, after which they quietly entered to say their prayers. But when the music commenced again they returned to dance in their savage fashion. They are naturally a good and tractable people, finally willing to do their dancing at home, or only on particular occasions at church after the Jesuits were long enough among them. At the present day there are times when the war dance is allowed in front of the church, performed by the able-bodied men of the nation with war clubs and hatchets in their hands.
The drinking of chicha was a portion of the primitive worship of the aborigines. They no doubt honestly believed that, the more happy they made themselves while paying respect to the Creator of all things, the better He was satisfied! They were sincere in their thankfulness toGod for the blessings they received at His hands. The Jesuits found that the Indian had adopted this means of praise, and the effects produced were so agreeable, that it was not an easy matter to persuade the old Indian to give up his liquor. If force were applied he undoubtedly would fight for it, so that a mild manner had to be pursued untiltimeworked its wonders. The Jesuits were obliged to keep back an expression of disapprobation of this custom for the purpose of converting the savage in any way, and persuaded him to attend church in the morning, and to postpone drinking until after the service. The Indian entered willingly into this compromise, and after being fastened up in church under new forms, which he did not understand, he found it rather dry, compared to what he had been accustomed to. So the moment he got out he returned to his mode of worship, and in the afternoon became generally intoxicated. The women dance to music all the way home on the road; the frolic is kept up the greater part of the night. On Monday morning the congregation were generally complaining from the effects of dissipation. This was the time at which the influence of the priest was brought to bear upon them. They were taught the art of cultivation; their minds were diverted by novel undertakings. The women were encouraged to spin, attend to the cotton plant, and to make use of chocolate. There was little or no difficulty in keeping them from chicha during the week, as they seldom made improper use of it except at the time devoted to religious worship, and that had now become a fixed one by the Jesuits, namely—after six days of labor.
Among the forests are found gums, which are used at the altar; the Indians gather and sell them to the church for incense. They also collect the sponge plant from which they extract oil. They seek transparent copal with the copaiba balsam, the gum of the storax-tree, and roots of the jalapa, ipecacuanha, and sarsaparilla.
"Mate," the tea of Paraguay, is grown in Chiquitos, with a number of species of the palm tree. There are ornamental and dye woods, many of which are only known to the Indian; few of them have been brought fairly to the notice of the mechanic.
Chiquitos is within the tropic of Capricorn. The natives enjoy the fruits of the banana, the plantain, and oranges, both sweet and sour. The grape yields wine, and from the wild apricot a pure vinegar is made. The much esteemed chirimoya is found there by the side of the pomegranate and granadilla, the pine-apple and water-melon, the mandioca, the sweet and other potatoes, guavas, pea-nuts, maize, and wheat. This is the agricultural district of Bolivia. Chiquitos will rob Cochabamba of its name "Granary," and prove a finer garden than Yungas. Thehide and tallow trade of Buenos Ayres will be enlarged by the yield of the pampas of Chiquitos. The trade of La Plata must be increased when the productions of this beautiful land are sent out upon its waters, and floated down to the sea.
In the small town of Oliden, the Indian carries to market lettuce, onions, capsicum, tomatoes, the cummin plant, wild marjorem, parsley, mustard, radishes, and the sweet-scented seed of the anise, with a species of moscatel grape.
From what I can learn from persons who have navigated the upper waters of the Paraguay, there is every reason to believe that the navigation is open from Cuyaba, the capital of the province of Matto Grosso, in Brazil, down to the ocean. It is said there are no falls, and that if there should be too little water on the upper streams in the dry season of the year, the produce of these countries may be sent down with ease in the wet seasons, when the rivers rise several feet, and are not very rapid.