After some days' journey we heard shouts, and knew that, like entombed miners, we were being dug out on the other side! The Caingwas soon met us, and I looked into their faces and gravely saluted. They stared at me in speechless astonishment, and I as curiously regarded them. Each man had his lower lip pierced and wore thebarboteI have described, with the difference that these were made of gum.
With a clear path before us we now made better progress, and before long emerged from the living tomb, but the memory of it will ever remain a nightmare.
We found a crowd of excited Indians, young and old, awaiting us. Many of the females ran like frightened deer on catching sight of me, but an old man, whom I afterwards learned was theHigh Priestof the tribe, came and asked my business. Assuring him, through Timoteo, that my mission was peaceable, and that I had presents for them, he gave me permission to enter into the glade, where I was toldNandeyara[Footnote: "Our Owner," the most beautiful word for God I have ever heard.] had placed them at the beginning of the world. Had I discovered theGarden of Eden, the place from which man had been wandering for 6,000 years? I was conducted by Rocanandivá (the high priest) down a steep path to the valley, where we came in view of several large peculiarly shaped houses, built of bamboo. Near these dwellings were perhaps a hundred men, women and children, remnants of a vanishing nation. Some had a mat around their loins, but many were naked. All the males had thebarbotein the lip, and had exceptionally thick hair, matted with grease and mud. Most of them had a repellant look on their pigment-painted faces, and I could very distinctly see that I was not a welcome visitor. No, I had not reached Eden! Only "beyond the clouds and beyond the tomb" would the bowers of Eden be discovered to me. Hearing domestic hens cackling around the houses, I bade Timoteo tell the priest that we were very hungry, and that if he killed two chickens for us I would give him a beautiful gift later on. The priest distinctly informed me, however, that I must give first, or no fowl would be killed. From that decision I tried to move him, urging that I was tired, the pack was hard to undo, and to-morrow, when I was rested, I would well repay them the kindness. My words were thrown away; not a bite should we eat until the promised knife was given. I was faint with hunger, but from the load on the packhorse I procured the knife, which I handed to my unwilling host with the promise of other gifts later. On receipt of this treasure he gave orders to the boys standing off at a distance to catch two chickens. The birds were knocked over by the stones thrown at them. Two women now came forward with clay pots on their heads and fire-sticks in their hands, and they superintended the cooking. Without cutting off either heads or legs, or pulling out the birds' feathers, the chickens were placed in the pots with water. Lying down near the fire, I, manlike, impatiently waited for supper. Perhaps a minute had dragged its weary length along when I picked up a stick from the ground and poked one of the fowls out of the water, which was not yet warm. Holding the bird in one hand, and pulling feathers out of my mouth with the other, I ate as my forefathers did ages ago. Years before this I had learned that a hungry man can eat what an epicure despises. After this feast I lay down on the ground behind one of the tepees, and, with my head resting on my most valued possessions, went to sleep.
Having promised to give the priest and his wife another present, I was awakened very early next morning. They had come for their gifts. Rising from my hard bed, I stretched myself and awoke my servant, under whose head were the looking-glasses. I presented one of these to the woman, who looked in it with satisfaction and evident pleasure. Whether she was pleased with her reflection or with the glass I cannot tell, but I feel sure it must have been the latter! A necklace to the daughter and a further gift to the old man gained their friendship, and food was brought to us. After partaking of this I was informed that the king desired to see me, and that I must proceed at once to his hut.
His majesty (?) lived on the other side of the river, close at hand. This water was of course unbridged, so, in order to cross, I was compelled to divest myself of my clothing and walk through it in nature's garb. The water came up to my breast, and once I thought the clothes I carried on my head would get wet. Dressing on the other side, I presented myself at the king's abode. There I was kindly received, being invited to take up my quarters with him and his royal family. The king was a tall man of somewhat commanding appearance, but, save for the loin cloth, he was naked, like the rest. The queen, a little woman, was as scantily dressed as her husband. She was very shy, and I noticed the rest of the inmates of the hut peeping through the crevices of the corn-stalk partition of an inner room. After placing around the shapely neck of the queen a specially fine necklace I had brought, and giving the king a large hunting-knife, I was regaled with roasted yams, and later on with a whole watermelon.
Timoteo, my servant, whose native language was Guarani, could understand most of the idiom of the Sun Worshippers, which we found to be similar to that spoken by the civilized inhabitants of the country. There must therefore have been some connection between the two peoples at one time. The questions, "Where have you come from?" "Why have you come?" were asked and answered, and I, in return, learned much of this strange tribe. Máté was served, but whereas in the outside world a rusty tin tube to suck it through is in possession of even the poorest, here they used only a reed. I was astonished to find the máté sweetened. Knowing that they could not possibly have any of the luxuries of civilization, I made enquiries regarding this, and was told that they used a herb which grew in the valley, to which they gave the name ofcá-ha hé-hé(sweet herb). This plant, which is not unlike clover, is sweet as sugar, whether eaten green or in a dried state.
There was not a seat of any description in the hut, but the king said, "Eguapú" ("Sit down"), so I squatted on the earthen floor. A broom is not to be found in the kingdom, and the house had never been swept!
A curiosity I noticed was the calabash which the king carried attached to his belt. This relic was regarded with great reverence, and at first His Majesty declined to reveal its character; but after I had won his confidence by gifts of beads and mirrors, he became more communicative. One day, in a burst of pride, he told me that the gourd contained the ashes of his ancestors, who were the ancient kings. Though the Spaniards sought to carefully rout out and destroy all direct descendants of the royal family of the Incas, their historians tell us that some remote connections escaped. The Indians of Peru have legends to the effect that at the time of the Spanish invasion an Inca chieftain led an emigration of his people down the mountains. Humboldt, writing in the 18th century, said: "It is interesting to inquire whether any other princes of the family of Manco Capac have remained in the forests; and if there still exist any of the Incas of Peru in other places." Had I discovered some descendants of this vanished race? The MontrealJournal, commenting on my discovery, said: "The question is of extreme interest to the scientific enquirer, even if they are not what Mr. Ray thinks them."
The royal family consisted of the parents, a son and his wife, a daughter and her husband, and two younger girls. I was invited to sleep in the inner room, which the parents occupied, and the two married couples remained in the common room. All slept in fibre hammocks, made greasy and black by the smoke from the fire burning on the floor in the centre of the room. No chimney, window, door, or article of furniture graced the house.
"The court of the Incas rivalled that of Rome, Jerusalem, or any of the old Oriental countries, in riches and show, the palaces being decorated with a great profusion of gold, silver, fine cloth and precious stones." [Footnote: Rev. Thomas Wood, LL.D., Lima, Peru, In "Protestant Missions in South America."]
An ancient Spanish writer who measured some of the stones of the Incan palace at Cuzco tells us there were stones so nicely adjusted that it was impossible to introduce even the blade of a knife between them, and that some of those stones were thirty-eight feet long, by eighteen feet broad, and six feet thick. What a descent for the "Children of the Sun"! "How are the mighty fallen!" Thoughts of the past and the mean present passed through my mind as I lay down in the dust of the earthen floor that first night of my stay with the king.
Owing to the thousands of fleas in the dust of the room it was hard for me to rest much, and that night a storm brewing made sleep almost impossible. As the thunder pealed forth all the Indians of the houses hastily got out of their hammocks and grasped gourd rattles and beautifully woven cotton banners. The rattles were shaken and the banners waved, while a droning chant was struck up by the high priest, and the louder the thunder rolled the louder their voices rose and the more lustily they shook the seeds in their calabashes. They were trying to appease the dread deity of Thunder, as did their Inca ancestors. The voice of the old priest led the worship, and forfour hoursthere was no cessation of the monotonous song, except when he performed some mystic ceremony which I understood not.
Just as the old priest had awakened me the first morning to ask for his present, so the king came tapping me gently the second. In his hand he had a large sweet potato, and in my half-dreamy state I heard him saying, "Give me your coat. Eat a potato?" The change I thought was greatly to his advantage, but I was anxious to please him. I possessed two coats, while he was, as he said, a poor old man, and had no coat. The barter was concluded; I ate the potato, and he, with strange grimaces, donned a coat for the first time in his life. Think of this for an alleged descendant of the great Atahuallpa, whose robes and jewels were priceless!
I offered to give the queen a feminine garment of white cotton if she would wear it, but this I could not prevail upon her to do; it was "ugly." As a loin-cloth, she would use it, but put it on—no! In the latter savage style the shaped garment was thereafter worn. Women havefashionsall over the globe.
The few inches of clothing worn by the Caingwa women are never washed, and the only attempt at cleansing the body I saw when among them was that of a woman who filled her mouth with water and squirted it back on her hands, which she then wiped on her loin-cloth!
Prescott, writing of the Incas, says: "They loved to indulge in the luxury of their baths, replenished by streams of crystal water which were conducted through subterraneous silver channels into basins of gold."
The shapely little mouth of the queen was spoilt by the habit she had of smoking aheavypipe made of red clay. I was struck with the weight and shape of this, for it exactly resembled those made by the old cliff-dwellers, unknown centuries ago. One will weigh at least a quarter of a pound. For a mouth-piece they use a bird's quill. The tobacco they grow themselves.
Near the royal abode were the kitchen gardens. A tract of forest had been fired, and this clearing planted with bananas, mandioca, sweet potatoes, etc. The blackened trunks of the trees rose up like so many evil spirits above the green foliage. The garden implements used were of the most primitive description; a crooked stick served for hoe, and long, heavy, sharpened iron-wood clubs were used instead of the steel plough of civilization.
As I have already remarked, I found the people were sun-worshippers. Each morning, just as the rising sun lit up the eastern sky, young and old came out of their houses, the older ones carrying empty gourds with the dry seeds inside. At a signal from the high priest, a solemn droning chant was struck up, to the monotonous time kept by the numerous gourd rattles. As the sun rose higher and higher, the chanting grew louder and louder, and the echoes of"He! he! he! ha! ha! ha! laima! laima!"were repeated by the distant hills. When the altar of incense (described later) was illuminated by the sun-god, the chanting ceased.
After this solemn worship of the Orb of Day, the women, with quiet demeanor and in single file, went off to their work in the gardens. On returning, each carried a basket made of light canes, slung on the back and held up by plaited fibres forming a band which came across their foreheads. The baskets contained the day's vegetables. Meat was seldom eaten by them, but this was probably because of its scarcity, for when we killed an ostrich they clamored for a share. Reptiles of all kinds, and even caterpillars, are devoured by them when hungry.
The Caingwas are under the average height, but use the longest bows and arrows I have ever seen. Some I brought away measure nearly seven feet in length. The points are made of sharpened iron-wood, notched like the back of a fish-hook, and they are poisoned with serpent venom. Besides these weapons, it was certainly strange to find them living in thestone age, for in the hands of the older members of the tribe were to be seen stone axes. The handles of these primitive weapons are scraped into shape by flints, as probably our savage forefathers in Britain did theirs two thousand years ago.
Entering the low, narrow doorway of one of the bamboo frame houses, I saw that it was divided into ten-foot squares by corn-stalk partitions a yard high. These places, like so many stalls for horses, run down each side of thehogá. One family occupies a division, sleeping in net hammocks made of long, coarse grass. A "family man" usually has bands of human hair twisted around his legs below the knees, and also around the wrists. This hair is torn from his wife's head. Down the centre are numerous fires for cooking purposes, but the house was destitute of chimney. Wood is burned, and the place was at times so full of smoke that I could not distinguish one Indian from another. Fortunately, the walls of the house, as was also the roof, were in bad repair, and some of the smoke escaped through the chinks. Sixty people lived in the largest hogá, and I judged the number of the whole tribe to be about three hundred.
The doorways of all the houses faced towards the east, as did those of the Inca. In the principal one, where the high priest lived, a square altar of red clay was erected. I quickly noticed that on this elevation, which was about a yard high, there burned a very carefully tended fire of holy wood. Enquiring the meaning of this, I was informed that, very many moons ago, Nande-yara had come in person to visit the tribe, and when with them had lit the fire, which, he said, they must not under any circumstances suffer to die out. Ever since then the smoke of the incense had ascended to their "Owner" in his far-off dwelling.
How forcibly was I reminded of the scripture referring to the Jewish altar of long ago, "There the fire shall ever be burning upon the altar; it shall never go out." If I had not discovered Eden, I had at least found the altar and fire of Edenic origin.
Behind the altar, occupying the stall directly opposite the doorway, stood the tribal god. As the Caingwas are sun-worshippers, I was surprised to see this, but Rocanandivia, with grave demeanor, told me that when Nandeyara departed from them he left behind him his representative. In the chapter on Mariolatry, I have traced the natural tendency of man to sink from spiritual to image worship, and I found that the Caingwas, like all pagans, had reverted to a something they could see and feel. Remembering that they had never heard the second commandment, written by God because of this failing in man, we can excuse them, but what shall be said of the enlightened Romanists?
Being exceedingly anxious to procure their "Copy of God," I tried to bargain with the priest. I offered him one thing and another, but to all my proposals he turned a deaf ear, and finally, glaring at me, said thatnothingwould ever induce him to part with it. The people would never allow the image to be taken away, as the life of the tribe was bound up with it Seeing that he was not to be moved, I desisted, though a covetous look in his eye when I offered a beautiful colored rug in exchange gave me hope, Rocanandiva was, like most idolatrous priests, very fanatical. When he learned that I professed and taught a different religion, his jealousy was most marked, and he often told me to go from them, I was not wanted. Living with the king, however, saved me from ejection.
One day the priest, ever on the beg, was anxious to obtain some article from me, and I determined to give it only on one condition. Being anxious to tell the people the story of Jesus, I had repeatedly asked permission of him, but had been as often repulsed. They did not wantme, or any new "words," he would reply. Turning to him now, I said, "Rocanandiva, if you will allow me to tell 'words' to the people you shall have the present." The priest turned on his heel and left me. Knowing his cupidity, I was not surprised when, later, he came to me and said that I could tell themwords, and held out his hand for the gift.
After sun-worship next morning the king announced that I had something new to tell them. When all were seated on the ground in wondering silence, I began in simple language to tell "the old, old story." My address was somewhat similar to the following: "Many moons ago, Nandeyara, looking down from his abode, saw that all the men and women and children in the world were bad; that is, they had done wrong things, such as . . . Now God has a Son, and to Him He said, Look down and see. All are doing wicked things! He looked and saw. The Father said that for their sin they should have to die, but that Jesus, His Son, could come down and die in their place. The Son came, and lived on earth many moons; but was hated, and at last caught, and large pieces of iron (like the priest's knife) were put into His hands and feet, and He was fastened to a tree. After this a man came, and, with a very long knife, brought the blood out of the side of Jesus, and He died." Purposing to further explain my story, I was not pleased when the priest stopped me, and, stepping forth, told the people that my account was not true. He then in eloquent tones related to them what he called thereal story, to which I listened in amazed wonder.
"Many moons ago," he began, "we were dying of hunger! One day the Sun, our god, changed into a man, and he walked downthatroad." (Here he pointed to the east.) "The chief met him. 'All your people are dying of hunger,' said god. 'Yes, they are,' the chief replied. 'Will you die instead of all the people?' Nandeyara said. 'Yes, I will,' the chief answered. He immediately dropped down dead, and god came to the village where we all are now. 'Your chief is lying dead up the road,' he said, 'go and bury him, and after three days are passed visit the grave, when you will find a plant growing out of his mouth; that will be corn, and it will save you!'" Then, turning to me, the priest said: "This we did, and behold us alive! That is the story!" A strange legend, surely, and yet the reader will be struck with the grains of truth intermingled—life, resulting from the sacrificial death of another; the substitution of the one for the many; the life-giving seed germinating afterthree days' burial, reminding one of John 12:24: "Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." Strange that so many aboriginal people have legends so near the truth.
Some days later the chiefs son and I were alone, and I saw that something troubled him. He tried to tell me, but I was somewhat ignorant of his language, so, after looking in all directions to see that we were really alone, he led the way into a dark corner of the hogá, where we were. There, from under a pile of garden baskets, calabashes, etc., he brought out a peculiarly-shaped gourd, full of some red, powdery substance. This, with trembling haste, he put into my hand, and seemed greatly relieved when I had it securely. Going then to the corner where I kept my goods, he took up a box of matches and made signs for me to exchange, which I did. When Timoteo returned I learned that the young man was custodian of the devil—the only and original one—and that he had palmed him off on me for a box of matches! How the superstition of the visible presence of the devil originated I have no idea, but there might be some meaning in the man's earnest desire to exchange it for matches, or lights, the emblem of their fire or sun-worship. Was this simple deal fallen man's feeble effort to rid himself of theUsurperand get back theFather, for it is very significant that the Caingwa word,ta-ta(light), signifies also father. Do they need light, or are they sufficiently illumined for time and eternity? Will the reader reverently stand with me, in imagination, beside an Indian grave? A girl has died through snake poisoning. A shallow grave has been dug for her remains. Into this hole her body has been dropped, uncoffined, in a sitting position. Beside the body is placed some food and a few paltry trinkets, and the people stand around with that disconsolate look which is only seen upon the faces of those who know not the Father. As they thus linger, the witch-doctor asks, "Is the dog killed?" Someone replies, "Yes, the dog is killed." "Is the head cut off?" is then asked. "Yes, the head is off," is the reply. "Put it in the grave, then," says the medicine man; and then the dog's head is dropped at the girl's feet.
Why do they do this? you ask. Question theirwise man, and he will say: "A dog is a very clever animal. He can always find his way. A girl gets lost when alone. For that reason we place a dog's head with her, that it may guide her in the spirit life." I ask again, "Do they need missionaries?"
My stay with the sun-worshippers, though interesting, was painful. Excepting when we cooked our own food, I almost starved. Their habits are extremely filthy, indeed more loathsome and disgusting than I dare relate.
My horses were by now refreshed with their rest, and appeared able for the return journey, so I determined to start back to civilization. The priest heard of my decision with unfeigned joy, but the king and queen were sorrowful. These pressed me to return again some time, but said I must bring with me aboca(gun) like my own for the king, with some more strings of white beads for the queen's wrists.
While saddling our horses in the grey dawn, the wily priest came to me with a bundle, and, quietly drawing me aside, said that Nandeyara was inside, and in exchange for the bright rug I could take him away. The exchange was made, and I tied their god, along with bows and arrows, etc., on the back of a horse, and we said farewell. I had strict orders to cover up the idol from the eyes of the people until we got away. Even when miles distant, I kept looking back, fearing that the duped Indians were following in enraged numbers. Of course, the priest would give out that I hadstolenthe image.
Ah, Rocanandiva, you are not the first who has been willing to sell his god for worldly gain! The hand of Judas burned with "thirty pieces of silver," the earthly value of the Divine One. Pilate, for personal profit, said: "Let Him be crucified." And millions to-day sell Him for "a mess of pottage."
The same horse bore away thedevilandgod, so perhaps without the one there would be no need of the other.
So prolific is the vegetation that during our few weeks' stay with the Indians the creeping thorns and briars had almost covered up the path we had cut through the forest, and it was again necessary to use our machetes. The larger growth, however, being down, this was not difficult, and we entered its sombre stillness once more. What strange creatures people its tangled recesses we knew not.
"For beasts and birds have seen and heardThat which man knoweth not."
I hurried through with little wish to penetrate its secret. Mere existence was hard enough in its steaming semi-darkness. Our clothes were now almost torn to shreds (I had sought to mend mine with horse-hair thread, with poor results), and we duly emerged into daylight on the other side, ragged, torn and dirty.
Our journey back to civilization was similar to the outward way. We selected a slightly different route, but left the old chief safe and well with his people.
One night our horses were startled by a bounding jaguar, and were so terrified that they broke away and scattered in all directions. Searching for them detained us a whole day, but fortunately we were able to round them all up again. Two were found in a wood of strangely-shaped bushes, whose large, tough leaves rustled like parchment.
One afternoon a heavy rain came on, and we stopped to construct a shelter of green branches, into which we crept. The downpour became so heavy that it dripped through our hastily-constructed arbor, and we were soon soaking wet. Owing to the dampness of the fuel, it was only after much patient work that we were able to light a fire and dry our clothes. There we remained for three days, Timoteo sighing for Pegwaomi, and the wind sighing still louder, to our discomfort. Everything we had was saturated. Sleeping on the soaking ground, the poisonous tarantula spiders crept over us. These loathsome creatures, second only to the serpent, are frequently so large as to spread their thick, hairy legs over a six-inch diameter.
The storm passed, and we started off towards the river Ipane, which was now considerably swollen. Three times on the expedition we had halted to build rough bridges over chasms or mountain streams with perpendicular banks, but this was broad and had to be crossed through the water. As I rode the largest and strongest horse, it was my place to venture first into the rushing stream. The animal bravely stemmed the current, as did the rest, but Old Stabbed Arm, riding a weaker horse, nearly lost his life. The animal was washed down by the strong current, and but for the man's previous long experience in swimming rivers he would never have reached the bank. The pony also somehow struggled through to the side, landing half-drowned, and Old Stabbed Arm received a few hearty pats on the back. The load on the mare was further soaked, but most of our possessions had been ruined long ago. My cartridges I had slung around my neck, and I held the photographic plates in my teeth, while the left hand carried my gun, so these were preserved. To my care on that occasion the reader is indebted for some of the illustrations in this volume. Nandeyara got another wash, but he had been wet before, and never complained!
On the farther side of the river was a deserted house, and we could distinctly trace the heavy footprints of a tapir leading up the path and through the open doorway. We entered with caution. Was the beast in then? No. He had gone out by a back way, probably made by himself, through the wattled wall. We could see the place was frequented very often by wild pigs, which had left hundreds of footprints in the three-inch depth of dust on the floor. There we lit a fire to again dry our clothes, and prepared to pass the night, expecting a visit from the hogs. Had they appeared when we were ready for them, the visit would not have been unwelcome. Food was hard to procure, and animals did not come very often to be shot. Had they found us asleep, however, the waking would have been terrible indeed, for they will eat human flesh just as ravenously as roots. After spreading our saddle-cloths on the dust and filth, Old Stabbed Arm and I were chatting about the Caingwas and their dirty habits, when Timoteo, heaving a sigh of relief, said: "Thank God, we are clean at last!" He was satisfied with the pigpen as he recalled thehogáof the Sun-Worshippers.
At last the village of Pegwaomi was reached, and, oh, we were not sorry, for the havoc of the jiggers in our feet was getting terrible! The keen-eyed inhabitants caught sight of us while we were still distant, and when we reined up, Timoteo's aged mother tremblingly said, "Yoape" ("Come here") to him, and she wept as she embraced her boy. Truly, there was no sight so sweet to "mother" as that of her ragged, travel-stained son; and Timoteo, the strong man, wept. The fatted calf was then killed a few yards from the doorstep, by having its throat cut. Offal littered up the doorway, and the children in their glee danced in the red blood. The dogs' tails and the women's tongues wagged merrily, making us feel that we were joined on to the world again. I was surprised to find that we were days out of reckoning; I had been keeping Sunday on Thursday!
During this stay at Pegwaomi I nearly lost Old Stabbed Arm. The day after we returned our hostess very seriously asked me if he might marry her daughter. Thinking he had sent her to ask, I consented. It was a surprise to learn afterwards that he knew nothing at all of the matter.
Although Pegwaomi gained no new inhabitant, I secured what proved to be one of the truest and most faithful friends of my life—a little monkey. His name was Mr. Pancho. With him it was love at first sight, and from that time onward, I believe, he had only two things in his mind—his food and his master. He would cry when I left him, and hug and kiss me on my return. Pancho rode the pack-mare into the village of Concepcion, and busied himself on the way catching butterflies and trying to grasp the multi-colored humming-birds hovering over the equally beautiful passion-flowers growing in the bushes on each side of the path.
Surely a stranger sight was never seen on the streets of Concepcion than that of a tired, dusty pack-horse bearing a live monkey, a dead god, and an equally dead devil on his back! Mrs. Sorrows was overjoyed to see me return, and earnestly told me that my first duty was to hurry down to the store and buy two colored candles to burn before her saint, who had brought me back, even though I was a heretic, which fact she greatly lamented. We had been given up as lost months before, for word came down that I had been killed by Indians. Here I was, however, safe and fairly well, saving that the ends of two of my toes had rotted off with jiggers, and fever burned in my veins! Mrs. Dolores doctored my feet with tobacco ashes as I reclined in a hammock under the lime trees surrounding her hut. I did not buy the candles, but she did; and while I silently thanked a Higher Power, and theta-tasburned toherdeity, she informed me that my countryman, the prodigal, had been carried to the "potters' field." Not all prodigals reach home again; some are buried by the swine-troughs.
For some time I was unable to put my feet to the ground; but Pancho, ever active, tied in a fig tree, helped himself to ripe fruit, and took life merrily. Pancho and I were eventually able to bid good-bye to Mrs. Sorrows, and, thousands of miles down life's pathway, this little friend and I journeyed together, he ever loving and true. I took him across the ocean, away from his tropical home, and—he died. I am not sentimental—nay, I have been accused of hardness—but I make this reference to Pancho in loving memory. Unlike some friends of my life,hewas constant and true. [Footnote: From letters awaiting me at the post-office, I learned, with intense sorrow and regret, that my strange patron had gone "the way of all flesh" The land I had been to explore, along-with a bequest of $250,000, passed into the hands of the Baptist Missionary Society, to the Secretary of which Society all my reports were given.]
The Gran Chaco, an immense region in the interior of the continent, said to be 2,500,000 square miles in extent, is, without doubt, the darkest part of "The Darkest Land." From time immemorial this has been given up to the Indians; or, rather, they have proved so warlike that the white man has not dared to enter the vast plain. The Chaco contains a population of perhaps 3,000,000 of aborigines. These are divided into many tribes, and speak numerous languages. From the military outposts of Argentina at the south, to the Fort of Olimpo, 450 miles north, the country is left entirely to the savage. The former are built to keep back the Tobas from venturing south, and the latter is a Paraguayan fort on the Brazilian frontier. Here about one hundred soldiers are quartered and some fifty women banished, for the Paraguayan Government sends its female convicts there. [Footnote: The women are not provided with even the barest necessities of life. Here they are landed and, perforce, fasten themselves like leeches on the licentious soldiery. I speak from personal knowledge, for I have visited the "hell" of Paraguay.] Between these forts and Bolivia, on the west, I have been privileged to visit eight different tribes of Indians, all of them alike degraded and sunken in the extreme; savage and wild as man, though originally made in the image of God, can be.
The Chaco is a great unknown land. The north, described by Mr. Minchin, Bolivian Government Explorer, as "a barren zone—an almost uninterrupted extent of low, thorny scrub, with great scarcity of water," and the centre and south, as I have seen in exploring journeys, great plains covered with millions of palm trees, through which the astonished traveller can ride for weeks without seeing any limit. In the dry season the land is baked by the intense heat of the tropical sun, and cracked into deep fissures. In the rainy season it is an endless marsh—a veritable dead man's land. During a 200-mile ride, 180 lay through water with the sun almost vertical. All this country in past ages must have been the bed of a great salt sea.
As I have said, the Chaco is peculiarly Indian territory, into which the white man steps at his peril. I accepted a commission, however, to examine and report on certain parts of it, so I left the civilized haunts of men and set foot on the forbidden ground.
My first introduction to the savages in Chaco territory was at their village of Teepmuckthlawhykethy (The Place Where the Cows Arrived). They were busy devouring a dead cow and a newly-born calf, and I saw their naked bodies through such dense clouds of mosquitos that in one clap of the hands I could kill twenty or thirty. This Indiantoldoconsists of three large wigwams, in which live about eighty of the most degraded aborigines to be found on earth. When they learned I was not one of theChristiansfrom across the river, and that I came well introduced, they asked: Did I come across thebig waterin a dug-out? Was it a day's journey? Would I give them some of "the stuff that resembles the eggs of the ant?" (their name for rice).
I was permitted to occupy a palm hut without a roof, but I slept under a tiger's skin, and that kept off dew and rain. They reserved the right to come and go in it as they pleased. The women, with naked babies astride their hips, the usual way of carrying them, were particularly annoying. A little girl, however, perhaps ten years old, named Supupnik (Sawdust), made friends with me, and that friendship lasted during all my stay with them. Her face was always grotesquely painted, but she was a sweet child.
These Indians are of normal stature, and are always erect and stately, perhaps because all burdens are borne by straps on the forehead. The expression of the savage is peculiar, for he pulls out all the hair on his face, even the eyelashes and eyebrows, and seems to think the omission of that act would be a terrible breach of cleanliness. These same individuals will, however, frequently be seen with their whole body so coated with dirt that it could easily be scraped off with a knife in cakes, as the housewife would scrape a burnt loaf! The first use to which the women put the little round tin looking-glasses, which I used for barter, was to admire their pretty (?) faces; but the men, with a sober look, would search for the detested hair on lip or chin. That I was so lost to decency as to suffer a moustache to cover my lip was to them a constant puzzle and wonder, for in every other respect the universal opinion was that I was a civilized kind of "thing." I writethingadvisedly, for the white man is to them an inferior creation—not aperson.
In place of a beard or moustache, the inhabitant of the Chaco prefers to paint his face, and sometimes he makes quite an artistic design.
These wild inhabitants of Central South America generally wear a skin around the loins, or a string of ostrich feathers. Some tribes, as, for example, the Chamacocos, dispense with either. The height of fashion is to wear strings of tigers' teeth, deer's hoofs, birds' bills, etc., around the neck. Strings of feathers or wool are twisted around ankles and wrists, while the thickly matted hair is adorned with plumes, standing upright.
The men insert round pieces of wood in the lobe of the ear. Boys of tender age have a sharp thorn pushed through the ear, where more civilized nations wear earrings. This hole is gradually enlarged until manhood, when a round piece, two inches in diameter and one and a half inches thick, can be worn, not depending from the ear, but in the gristle of it. The cartilage is thus so distended that only a narrow rim remains around the ornament, and this may often be seen broken out. Sometimes three or four rattles from the tail of the rattlesnake also hang from the ear on to the shoulder.
These tribes of the Chaco were all vassals of the Inca at the advent of the Spaniards. They had been by them reclaimed from savagery, and taught many useful arts, one or two of which, such as the making of blankets and string, they still retain. The Inca used the ear ornaments of solid gold, but made in the form of a wheel. The nearest approach to this old custom is when the wooden ear-plug is painted thus, as are some in the author's possession.
I was fortunate in gaining the favor of the tribe living near the river, and because of certain favors conferred upon them, was adopted into the family. My face was painted, my head adorned with ostrich plumes, and I was given the name of Wanampangapthling ithma (Big Cactus Red Mouth). Because of this formal initiation, I was privileged to travel where I chose, but to the native Paraguayan or Argentine the Chaco is a forbidden land. The Indian describes himself as aman; monkeys arelittle men; I was athing; but the Paraguayans areChristians, and that is the lowest degree of all. The priests they see on the other side of the river areYankilwana(neither man nor woman); and aYankilwana, in his distinctive garb, could never tread this Indian soil. So abhorrent to them is the name of Christian, that the missionaries have been compelled to use another word to describe their converts, and they are called "Followers of Jesus." All the members of some large expeditions have been massacred just because they wereChristians. Surely this is convincing corroboration of my remarks regarding the state of Roman Catholicism in those dark lands.
A few miserable-looking, diminutive sheep are kept by some tribes, and the blankets referred to are made from the wool, which is torn off the sheep with a sharp shell, or, if near the coast, with a knife. The blankets are woven by hand across two straight branches of tree, and they are sometimes colored in various shades. A bulbous root they know of dyes brown, the cochineal insect red, and the bark of a tree yellow. String is made from the fibre of thecaraguataîplant, and snail shells are used to extract the fibre. This work is, of course, done by the women, as is also the making of the clay pots they use for cooking. The men only hunt.
All sleep on the ground, men, women, children and dogs, promiscuously. The wigwams are nothing more than a few branches stuck in the ground and tied at the top. The sides are left open. Very often even this most primitive of dwellings is dispensed with, and the degraded beings crawl under the shelter of the bushes. Furniture of any kind they are, of course, wit-out, and their destitution is only equalled by the African pigmy or the Australian black.
The Chaco is essentially a barren land, and the Indians' time seems almost fully taken up in procuring food. The men, with bows and arrows, hunt the deer, ostrich, fox, or wolf, while the women forage for roots and wild fruit.
One tribe in the north of the Chaco are cannibals, and they occasionally make war on their neighbors just to obtain food.
A good vegetable diet is the cabbage, which grows in the heart of certain palms, and weighs three or four pounds. To secure this the tree has perforce to be cut down. To the Indian without an axe this is no light task. The palm, as is well known, differs from other trees by its having the seat of life in the head, and not in the roots; so when the cabbage is taken out the tree dies.
Anything, everything, is eaten for food, and a roasted serpent or boiled fox is equally relished. During my stay among them I ceased to ask of what the mess was composed; each dish was worse than the former. Among the first dishes I had were mandioca root, a black carrion bird, goat's meat, and fox's head. The puma, otter, ant-bear, deer, armadillo, and ostrich are alike eaten, as is also the jaguar, a ferocious beast of immense size. I brought away from those regions some beautiful skins of this animal, the largest of which measures nearly nine feet from nose to tail.
In the sluggish, almost salt, streams, fish are numerous, and these are shot by the Indian with arrows, to which is attached a string of gut. Lakes and rivers are also filled with hideous-looking alligators of all sizes. These grow to the length of twelve or fifteen feet in these warm waters, and the tail is considered quite a delicacy. Besides these varied dishes, there is the electric eel; and, sunk in a yard depth of mud, is thelollock, of such interest to naturalists The lollock is a fish peculiar to the Chaco. Though growing to the length of three and four feet, it has only rudimentary eyes, and is, in consequence, quite blind; it is also unable to swim. The savage prods in the mud with a long notched lance, sometimes for hours, until he sticks the appetizing fish.
The steamy waters are so covered with aquatic plants that in some places I have been able to walk across a living bridge. Once, when out hunting, I came upon a beautiful forest glade, covered with a carpet of green. Thinking it a likely place for deer, I entered, when lo, I sank in a ftid lake of slime. Throwing my gun on to the bank, I had quite a difficulty to regain dry land.
In my journeyings here and there I employed one or another of the braves to accompany me. All they could eat and some little present was the pay. No sooner was the gift in their hand, however, after supper, than they would put it back in mine and say, "Give me some more food?" I was at first accompanied by Yantiwau (The Wolf Rider). Armed with a bow and arrows, he was a good hunter for me, and a faithful servant, but his custom of spitting on my knife and spoon to clean them I did not like. When my supplies were getting low, and I went to the river for a wash, he would say: "There's nokiltanithliacack(soap)—onlyclupup(sand)." Yantiwau was interested in pictures; he would gaze with wondering eyes at photos, or views of other lands, but he looked at themthe wrong side up, as they all invariably do. While possessed of a profound respect for me in some ways, he thought me very lacking in common knowledge. While I was unable to procure game, through not seeing any, he could call the bird to him in a "ducky, ducky, come and be killed" kind of way; and my tongue was parched when he would scent water. This was sometimes very easy to smell, however, for it was almost impossible to drink out of a waterhole without holding the nose and straining the liquid through my closed teeth. Chaco water at best is very brackish, and on drying off the ground a white coat of salt is left.
My Indian's first and last thought was of his stomach. While capable of passing two or three days without eating, and feeling no pangs of hunger, yet, when food was to hand, he gorged himself, and could put away an incredible amount. Truly, his make-up was a constant wonder to me. Riding through the "hungry belt" I would be famishing, but to my question: "Are you hungry?" he would answer, "No." After a toilsome journey, and no supper at the end: "Would you like to eat?" "No." But let an ostrich or a deer come in sight, and he could not live another minute without food! Another proof to Yantiwau of my incapacity was the fact that when my matches were all used I could not light the fire. He, by rubbing a blunt-pointed hard stick in a groove of soft wood, could cause such a friction that the dust would speedily ignite, and set fire to the dry twigs which he was so clever in collecting. Although such a simple process to the Indian, I never met a white man who could use the firesticks with effect.
Sitting by the camp-fire in the stillness of evening, my guide would draw attention to a shooting star. "Look! That is a bad witch doctor," he would say. "Did you notice he went to the west? Well, the Toothlis live there. He has gone for vengeance!"
The wide palm plains are almost uninhabited; I have journeyed eighty miles without sighting human being or wigwam. In the rainy season the trees stand out of a sea-like expanse of steaming water, and one may wade through this for twenty miles without finding a dry place for bivouac. Ant hills, ten and fifteen feet high, with dome-shaped roofs, dot the wild waste like pigmy houses, and sometimes they are the only dry land found to rest on. The horses flounder through the mire, or sink up to the belly in slime, while clouds of flies make the life of man and beast a living death. Keys rust in the pocket, and boots mildew in a day. At other seasons, as I know by painful experience, the hard-baked ground is cracked up into fissures, and not a drop of water is to be found in a three days' journey. The miserable savages either sit in utter dejection on logs of wood or tree roots, viewing the watery expanse, or roam the country in search ofyingmin(water).
Whereas the Caingwas may be described as inoffensive Indians, the inhabitants of the Chaco aresavages, hostile to the white man, who only here and there, with their permission, has settled on the river bank. Generally a people of fine physique and iron constitution, free from disease of any kind, they are swept into eternity in an incredibly short space of time ifcivilizeddiseases are introduced. Even the milder ones, such as measles, decimate a whole tribe; and I have known communities swept away as autumn leaves in a strong breeze with thegrippe. I was informed that the hospital authorities at Asuncion gave them the cast-off fever clothing of their patients during an epidemic to sweep them off the face of the earth!
The Indians have been ill-treated from the beginning. Darwin relates that, in their eagerness to exterminate the red men, the Argentine troops have pursued them for three days without food. On the frontier they are killed in hundreds; by submitting to the white man they die in thousands. Latin civilization is more terrible to them than war. Sad to state, their only hope is to fight, and this the savage affirms he will do for ever and ever.
Francia, the Dictator of Paraguay, ordered every Indian found—man, woman or child—to be put to death! Lopez, a later ruler, took sport in hunting Indians like deer. We are told that on one occasion he was so successful as to kill forty-eight! The children he captured and sold into slavery at fifteen and twenty dollars each. The white settler considers himself very brave if he kills the savage with a rifle sighted at five hundred yards, while well out of range of the Indians' arrows, and I have known them shot just "for fun"! The Indians retaliate bycutting off the heelsof their white captives, or leaving them,in statu naturae, bound with thongs on an anthill; and a more terrible death could not be devised by even the inquisitor, Torquemada, of everlasting execration. The Indian is hard and cruel, indifferent to pain in himself or others. A serpent may sting a comrade, and he takes no notice; but let one find food and there is a general scamper to the spot. The Chaco savage is barbarous in the extreme. The slain enemies are often eaten, and the bones burnt and scattered over their food. The children of enemies are traded off to other tribes for more food.
The Chaco Indian is a born warrior. Sad to say, his only hope is to fight against the Latin paleface.
Most of us have at times been able to detect a peculiar aroma in the negro. The keen-scented savage detects that something in us, and we "smell" to them. Even I,Big Cactus Red Mouth, was not declared free from a subtle odor, although I washed so often that they wondered my skin did not come off.They never wash, and in damp weather the dirt peels from them in cakes. Of course theydon'tsmell!
When a man or woman is, through age, no longer capable of looking after the needs of the body, a shallow grave is dug, the aged one doubled up until the knees are pressed into the hollow cheeks, and the back is broken. This terrible work done, the undesired one is dragged by one leg to the open tomb. Sometimes the face and whole body is so mangled, by being pulled through thorns and over uneven ground, that it is not recognizable, and the nose has at times been actually torn off. While sometimes still alive, the body is covered up with mother earth. Frequently the grave is so shallow that the matted hair may be seen coming out at the top. The burial is generally made near a wood, and, if passible, under theholy wood tree, which, in their judgment, has great influence with evil spirits. Wild beasts, attracted by the odor of the corpse, soon dig up the remains, and before next day it is frequently devoured.
Anordinaryburial service may be thus described: A deep cut is first made in the stomach of the departed one. Into this incision a stone, some bone ash, and a bird's claw are introduced. The body is then placed over the grave on two sticks, a muttering incantation is said by the witch doctor, and the sticks are roughly knocked from under the body, so as to permit it to fall in a sitting posture. A bow and arrows, and some food and cooking utensils, are dropped into the grave. All shooting stars, according to the Indian belief, are flying stones; hence the custom of placing a stone in the stomach of the dead. It is supposed to be able to mount heavenward, and, assuming its true character, become the avenging adversary, and destroy the one who caused the death—always a bad witch doctor. The bird's claw scratches out the enemy's heart, and the ashes annihilate the spirit. One of the missionaries in the Lengua tribe stated that he assisted at the burial of a woman where the corpse fell head foremost into the grave, the feet remaining up. Four times the attempt to drop her in right was made, with similar results, and finally the husband deliberately broke his dead wife's neck, and bent the head on to the back; then he broke her limbs across his knee, and so the ghastly burial was at last completed! Truly, "the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty." Let the one whose idea is to "leave the pagan in his innocency" visit these savages, and, if he lives to tell it, his ideas will have undergone a great change. They arelost!and millions have not yet heard of the "Son of Man," who "came to seek and to save that which was lost."
At the death of any member, thetoldoin which he lived is burnt, all his possessions are destroyed, and the people go into mourning. The hair of both sexes is cut short or pulled out, and each one has the face blackened with a vegetable dye, which, from experience, I know hardly ever wears off again. As I have said, everything the man owned in life is burnt and the village is deserted; all move right away to get out of the presence of the death-giving spirit. To me thetoldowould not only seem abandoned, but the people gone without leaving a trace of their path; but not so to Wolf Rider, my guide. By the position of the half-burnt wood of the fire, he could tell the direction they had taken, and the number gone—although each steps in the other's footprints—whether they were stopping to hunt on the way, and much more he would never tell me. Some of the missionaries have spent ten years in the Chaco, but cannot get the savage to teach them this lesson of signs.
In some tribes the aged ones are just"left to die"sitting under a palm-leaf mat. All the members of the tribe move away and leave them thus. Many are the terrible things my eyes have witnessed, but surely the most pathetic was the sight of an old woman sitting under the mat. I was one day riding alone, but had with me two horses, when I caught sight of the palm-leaf erection and the solitary figure sitting under it. Getting down from my horse, I approached the woman and offered to take her to a place of safety, promising to feed her and permit her to live as long as she chose. Would she come with me? I begged and entreated, but the poor woman would not so much as lift her eyes to mine. The law of her tribe had said she must die, and the laws are to them unalterable. Most reluctantly, I left her to be eaten later on by the wild beasts.
Terrible as this custom is, other tribes kill and eat their aged parents "as a mark of respect." Another tribe will not permit one member to go into the spirit world alone, so they hang another one, in order that there may be two to enter together.
Whereas the Caingwas are a religious people, even attributing their custom of piercing the lip to divine commandment, the Chaco aborigines have no god and no religion. Missionaries in the solitary station I have referred to, after ten years' probing, have been unable to find any approach to worship in their darkened minda. "The miserable wretches who inhabit that vast wilderness are so low in the scale of reasoning beings that one might doubt whether or not they have human souls." [Footnote: Washburn's "History of Paraguay."] These "lost sheep" have no word to express God, and have no idols. "The poverty of the Indian dialects of the Chaco is scarcely surpassed by that of the dumb brutes."
These wretched tribes have perfect community of goods; what is secured by one belongs equally to all. A piece of cloth is either torn up and distributed, or worn in turns by each one. The shirt which I gave my guide, Yantiwau, for much arduous toil, was worn by one and another alternately. Much as the savage at first desires to possess some garment, it does not take long for him to tire of it. All agree with Mark Twain, that "the human skin is the most comfortable of all costumes," and, clothed in the sunlight, the human form divine is not unlovely.
Sometimes the Indians of the interior take skins, etc., to the Paraguayan towns across the river. Not knowing the use of money, their little trading is done by barter. Their knowledge of value is so crude that on one occasion they refused a two-dollar axe for an article, but gladly accepted a ten-cent knife. The Chaco Indian, however, is seldom seen in civilization. His home is in the interior of an unknown country, which he wanders over in wild freedom. While the Caingwas are homekeeping, these savages are nomadic, and could not settle down. The land is either burnt up or inundated, so they do not plant, but live only by the chase. So bold and daring are they that a man, armed only with a lance, will attack a savage jaguar; or, diving under an alligator, he will stab it with a sharpened bone. The same man will run in abject terror if he thinks he hearsspirits.
Though not religious, the savages are exceedingly superstitious, afraid of ghosts and evil spirits, and the fear of these spectral visitants pursues them through life. During a storm they vigorously shake their blankets and mutter incantations to keep away supernatural visitors.
All diseases are caused by evil spirits, or the moon; and a comet brings the measles. The help of the witch doctor has to be sought on all occasions, for his special work is to drive away the evil spirit that has taken possession of a sick one. This he does by rattling a hollow calabash containing stones. That important person will perform his mystichocus pocusover the sick or dying, and charm away the spirits from a neighborhood. I have known an Indian, when in great pain through having eaten too much, send for the old fakir, who, after examination of the patient and great show of learning, declared that the suffering onehad two tigers in his stomach. A very common remedy is the somewhat scientific operation of bleeding a patient, but the manner is certainly uncommon—the witch doctor sucks out the blood. One I was acquainted with, among the Lengua tribe, professed to suck three cats out of a man's stomach. His professional name was thereafter "Father of Kittens." The doctor's position is not one to be envied, however, for if three consecutive patients die, he must follow themdown the dark trail!
These medicine-men are experts in poisons, and their enemies have a way of dying suddenly. It cannot be denied that the Indians have a very real knowledge of the healing virtues of many plants. The writer has marvelled at the cures he has seen, and was not slow to add some of their methods to his medical knowledge. Not a few who have been healed, since the writer's return to civilization, owe their new life to the knowledge there learned.
Infanticide is practised in every tribe, and in my extensive wanderings among eighttoldos, I never met a family with more than two children. The rest are killed! A child is born, and the mother immediately knocks it on the head with a club! After covering the baby with a layer of earth, the woman goes about as if nothing had occurred. One chief of the Lengua tribe, that I met, had himself killed nineteen children. An ironwood club is kept in eachtoldofor this gruesome work. Frequently a live child is buried with a dead parent; but I had better leave much of their doings in the inkpot.
When a girl enters the matrimonial market, at about the age of twelve or thirteen, her face is specially colored with a yellow paint, made from the flower of the date palm, and the aspirant to her hand brings a bundle of firewood, neatly tied up, which he places beside her earthen bed at early morning. As the rising sun gilds the eastern sky, the girl awakes out of her sleep, rubs her eyes,—and sees the sticks. Well does she know the meaning of it, and a glad light flashes in her dark eyes as she cries out, "Who brought the sticks?" All men, women and children, take up the cry, and soon the whole encampment resounds with, "Who brought the sticks?" The medicine-man, who sleeps apart from the "common herd" under an incense-tree, hears the din, and, quickly donning his head-dress, hurries down to the scene. With an authoritative voice, which even the chief himself does not use, he demands, "Who brought the sticks?" until a young brave steps forward in front of him and replies, "Father of Kittens, I brought the sticks." This young man is then commanded to stand apart, the girl is hunted out, and together they wait while the witch-doctor X-rays them through and through. After this close scrutiny, they are asked: "Do you want this man?" "Do you want this girl?" To which they reply, "Yes, Father of Kittens, I do." Then, with great show of power, the medicine-man says, "Go!" and off the newly-married pair start, to live together until death (in the form of burial) does them part.
It may be a great surprise to the reader to learn that these savages are exceedingly moral. Infidelity between man and wife is punished with death, but in all my travels I only heard of one such case. A man marries only one wife, and although any expression of love between them is never seen, they yet seem to think of one another in a tender way, and it is especially noticeable that the parents are kind to their children.
One evening I rode into an encampment of savages who were celebrating a feast. About fifty specially-decked-out Indians were standing in a circle, and one of the number had a large and very noisy rattle, with which he kept time to the chant of Há há há há há! ú ú ú ú ú! ó ó ó óó! aú aú aú aú aú! The lurid lights of the fires burning all around lit up this truly savage scene. The witch-doctor, the old fakir named "Father of Kittens," came to me and looked me through and through with his piercing eyes. I was given the rattle, and, although very tired, had to keep up a constant din, while my wild companions bent their bodies in strange contortions. In the centre of the ring was a woman with a lighted pipe in her hand. She passed this from one to another and pushed it into the mouth of each one, who had "a draw." My turn came, and lo! the pipe was thrust between my teeth, and the din went on: Há há! ú ú! ó ó! aú aú! This feast lasted three nights and two days, but the music was not varied, and neither man nor woman seemed to sleep or rest. Food was cooking at the different fires, attended by the women, but my share was only aroasted fox's head!The animal was laid on the wood, with skin, head and legs still attached, and the whole was burnt black. I was very hungry, and ate my portion thankfully. Christopher North said: "There's a deal of fine confused feeding about a sheep's head," and so I found with the fox's. Truly, as the Indian says, "hunger is a very big man."
At these feasts a drum, made by stretching a serpent's skin over one of their clay pots, is loudly beaten, and the thigh-bone of an ostrich, with key-holes burned in, is a common musical instrument. From thealgarrobabean an intoxicating drink is made, calledang-min, and then yells, hellish sounds and murderous blows inspire terror in the paleface guest. "It is impossible to conceive anything more wild and savage than the scene of their bivouac. Some drink till they are intoxicated, others swallow the steaming blood of slaughtered animals for their supper, and then, sick from drunkenness, they cast it up again, and are besmeared with gore and filth."
After the feast was over I held a service, and told how sin wasinjectedinto us by the evil spirit, but that all are invited to the heavenly feast. My address was listened to in perfect silence, and the nodding heads showed that some, at least, understood it. When I finished speaking, a poor woman, thinking she must offer something, gave me her baby—a naked little creature that had never been washed in its life. I took it up and kissed it, and the poor woman smiled. Yes, a savage woman can smile.
As already stated, many different tribes of Indians dwell in the Chaco, and each have their different customs. In the Suhin tribe the rite of burial may be thus described. "The digger of the grave and the performer of the ceremony was the chief, who is also a witch-doctor, and I was told that he was about to destroy the witch-doctor who had caused the man's death. A fire was lit, and whilst the digging was in progress a stone and two pieces of iron were being heated. Two bones of a horse, a large bird's nest built of sticks, and various twigs were collected. The skin of a jaguar's head, a tooth, and the pads of the same animal were laid out. A piece of wax and a stone were also heated; and in a heap lay a hide, some skins for bedding, and a quantity of sheep's wool. The grave being finished, the ceremony began by a wooden arrow being notched in the middle and waxed, then plunged into the right breast of the corpse, when it was snapped in two at the notch, and the remaining half was flung into the air, accompanied with a vengeful cry, in the direction of the Toothli tribe, one of whose doctors, it was supposed, had caused the man's death. Short pointed sticks, apparently to represent arrows, were also daubed with wax, two being plunged into the throat and one into the left breast, the cry again accompanying each insertion. One of the jaguar's pads was next taken, and the head of the corpse torn by the claws, the growl of the animal being imitated during the process. An incision was next made in the cheek, and the tooth inserted; then the head and face were daubed with the heated wax. The use of the wax is evidently to signify the desire that both arrows and animal may stick to the man if he be attacked by either. The arrows were plunged, one into the right breast downwards, and another below the ribs, on the same side, but in an upward direction, a third being driven into the right thigh. They also spoke about breaking one of the arms, but did not do so. An incision being made in the abdomen, the heated stone was then placed within the body. They place most reliance upon the work of the stone. The ceremony is known by the name of 'Mátaimáng' stone, and all the other things are said to assist it. Meteorites, when seen to pass along the sky, are regarded with awe; they are believed to be these stones in passage. The body was placed in the grave with the head to the west, the jaguar's head and pads being first placed under it. A bunch of grass, tied together, was placed upon the body; then the bird's nest was burned upon it. The bones were next thrown in, and over all the various articles before mentioned were placed. These were to accompany the soul in its passage to the west. In this act the idea of a future state is more distinctly seen than ever it has been seen amongst the Lenguas, who burn all a man's possessions at his death. The ceremony finished, the grave was covered in, logs and twigs being carelessly thrown on the top, apparently simply to indicate the existence of a grave. The thing which struck me most was the intense spirit of vengeance shown."
Notwithstanding such terrible savagery, however, the Indian has ideas of right and wrong that put Christian civilization to shame. The people are perfectlyhonestandtruthful. I believe theycannot lie, and stealing is entirely unknown among them.
Many are the experiences I have had in the Chaco. Some of them haunt me still like ghostly shadows. The evening camp-fire, the glare of which lit up and made more hideous still my savage followers, gorging themselves until covered with filth and gore. The times when, from sheer hunger, I have, like them, torn up bird or beast and eaten it raw. The draughts of water from the Indian hole containing the putrefying remains of some dead animal; my shirt dropping off in rags and no wash for three weeks. The journeys through miles of malarial swamps and pathless wilderness. The revolting food, and the want of food. Ah! the memory is a bad dream from which I must awake.
The other side, you say? Yes, there is another. A cloudless blue sky overhead. The gorgeous air-flowers, delicate and fragrant. Trees covered with a drapery of orchidaceae. The loveliest of flowers and shrubs. Birds of rainbow beauty, painted by the hand of God, as only He can. Flamingoes, parrots, humming-birds, butterflies of every size and hue. Arborescent ferns; cacti, thirty feet high, like huge candelabra. Creeping plants growing a hundred feet, and then passing from the top of one ever-vernal tree to another, forming a canopy for one from the sun's rays. Chattering monkeys. Deer, with more beautiful eyes than ever woman had since Eve fell. The balmy air wafting incense from the burning bush; and last, but oh, not least, the joy in seeing the degraded aborigine learning to love the "Light of the World"! Yes, there are delights; but "life is real, life is earnest," and a meal ofalgarrobabeans (the husks of the prodigal son of Luke XV.) is not any more tempting if eaten under the shade of a waving palm of surpassing beauty.
The mission station previously referred to lies one hundred miles in from the river bank, three hundred miles north of Asuncion, among the Lengua Indians. As far as I am aware, no Paraguayan has ever visited there. The missionaries wish their influence to be the only one in training the Indian mind. The village bears the strange name of Waikthlatemialwa (The Place Where the Toads Arrived). At the invitation of the missionaries, I was privileged to go there and see their work. A trail leads in from the river bank, but it is so bad that bullock carts taking in provisions occupy ten and twelve days on the journey. Tamaswa (The Locust Eater), my guide, led me all during the first day out through a palm forest, and at night we slept on the hard ground. The Indian was a convert of the mission, and although painted, feathered and almost naked, seemed really an exemplary Christian. The missionaries labored for eleven years without gaining a single convert, but Tamaswa is not the only "follower of Jesus" now. During the day we shot a deer, and that evening, being very hungry, I ate perhaps two pounds of meat. Tamaswa finished the rest! True, it was only a small deer, but as I wish to retain my character for veracity, I dare not say how much it weighed. This meal concluded, we knelt on the ground. I read out of the old Book: "I go to prepare a place for you," and Locust Eater offered a simple prayer for protection, help and safety to the God who understands all languages.
My blanket was wet through and through with the green slime through which we had waded and splashed for hours, but we curled ourselves up under a beer barrel tree and tried to sleep. The howling jaguars and other beasts of prey in the jungle made this almost impossible. Several times I was awakened by my guide rising, and, by the light of a palm torch, searching for wood to replenish the dying fire, in the smoke of which we slept, as a help against the millions of mosquitos buzzing around. Towards morning a large beast of some kind leaped right over me, and I rose to rekindle the fire, which my guide had suffered to die out, and then I watched until day dawned. As all the deer was consumed, we started off without breakfast, but were fortunate later on in being able to shoot two wild turkeys.
That day we rode on through the endless forest of palms, and waded through a quagmire at least eight miles in extent, where the green slime reached up to the saddle-flaps. On that day we came to a sluggish stream, bearing the name of "Aptikpangmakthlaingwainkyapaimpangkya" (The Place Where the Pots Were Struck When They Were About to Feast). There a punt was moored, into which we placed our saddles, etc., and paddled across, while the horses swam the almost stagnant water. Saddling up on the other side, we had a journey of thirty miles to make before arriving at a waterhole, where we camped for the second night. I don't know what real nectar is, but that water was nectar to me, although the horses sniffed and at first refused to drink it.
At sunset on the third day we emerged from the palm forest and endless marshes, and by the evening of the fourth day the church, built of palm logs, loomed up on the horizon. Many of the Indians came out to meet us, and my arrival was the talk of the village. The people seemed happy, and the missionaries made me at home in their roughly-built log shanties. Next morning I found a gift had been brought me by the Indians. It was a beautiful feather headdress, but it had just been left on the step, the usual way they have of making presents. The Indian expects no thanks, and he gives none. The women received any present I handed them courteously but silently. The men would accept a looking-glass from me and immediately commence to search their face for any trace of "dirty hairs," probably brought to their mind by the sight of mine, but not even a grunt of satisfaction would be given. No Chaco language has a word for "thanks."
[Illustration: TAMASWA (THE LOCUST EATER) PROCURING FOOD. This young man could put the point of his arrow into a deer's eye a hundred yards distant]
[Illustration: FASHIONS OF THE CHACO.]
There is, among the Lenguas, an old tradition to the effect that for generations they have been expecting the arrival of some strangers who would live among them and teach them about the spirit-world. These long-looked-for teachers were calledThe Imlah. The tradition says that when the Imlah arrive, all the Indians must obey their teaching, and take care that the said Imlah do not again leave their country, for if so they, the Indians, would disappear from the land. When Mr. Grubb and his helpers first landed, they were immediately asked, "Are you the Imlah?" and to this question they, of course, answered yes. Was it not because of this tradition that the Indian who later shot Mr. Grubb with a poisoned arrow was himself put to death by the tribe?
About twenty boys attend the school established at Waikthlatemialwa, and strange names some of them bear; let Haikuk (Little Dead One) serve as an example. It is truly a cheering sight to see this sign of a brighter day. When these boys return to their distanttoldosto tell "the news" to their dark-minded parents, the most wonderful of all to relate is "Liklamo ithnik ñata abwathwuk enthlit God; hingyahamok hikñata apkyapasa apkyitka abwanthlabanko. Aptakmilkischik sat ankuk appaiwa ingyitsipe sata netin thlamokthloho abyiam." [Footnote: John 3:16]
Well might the wondering mother of "Dark Cloud" call her next-born"Samai" (The Dawn of Day).
The Indian counts by his hands and feet. Five would be one hand, two hands ten, two hands and a foot fifteen, and a specially clever savage could even count "my two hands and my two feet." Now Mr. Hunt is changing that: five isthalmemik, tensohok-emek, fifteensohokthlama-eminik, and twentysohok-emankuk.
When a boy in school desires to say eighteen, he must first of all take a good deep breath, forsohok-emek-wakthla-mok-eminick-antanthlamais no short word. This literally means: "finished my hands—pass to my other foot three."