CHAPTER VIII.Currents above Theotonio—Loss of a small canoe—Theft of rum at night by one of the Bolivian boatmen—The rapid of Morinhos—Crew turn out to be very weak and slow—Plan for securing a good crew—The river Yaci-Paraná—Morning fogs—Igarapé of the Caripuna savages—Capitan Cinco’s Island—Buena Esperanza—Rations given to the boatmen.
Currents above Theotonio—Loss of a small canoe—Theft of rum at night by one of the Bolivian boatmen—The rapid of Morinhos—Crew turn out to be very weak and slow—Plan for securing a good crew—The river Yaci-Paraná—Morning fogs—Igarapé of the Caripuna savages—Capitan Cinco’s Island—Buena Esperanza—Rations given to the boatmen.
On the 27th, the rest of the cargo was on board, and breakfast over by about mid-day, when we started in line, I being last of the total file of seven canoes. About a couple of miles above Theotonio, we came to a very strong current, and had to pass over a very dangerous point of rock, getting over safely with hard work and much shouting. About 5 p.m. we came to a current by an island, the current being very strong, and the worst we had yet passed. Señor Morales sent his montaria to assist me in getting to a point of safety for the night; but the montaria was badly managed in passing the prow of my garitea, which was tied in mid-current to a tree, and, owing to this mismanagement, she struck a rock, filled, and was sucked under my canoe, and away in a moment. The four men in her fortunately escaped, by jumping on the rock and clinging to the branches of the tree, from whence they passed into my canoe. We had a dreadfully hard time for about a couple of hours, and had my rope broken we shouldhave gone down stream at a rapid rate; but, fortunately, all went well, and we got to where the other canoes were made fast for the night, about 100 yards ahead, by 8 p.m., and had a bad night, as, in consequence of arriving so late, we were unable to cook a supper or set up the tent.
The next day, the 28th, we started at daybreak, about half-past five o’clock, and stopping for a short time only, about ten, for breakfast, concluded a good day’s work by half-past-five at night, when we arrived at some small shanties of palm-leaves, that had been set up by the engineers of the railway when cutting a road through the forest for the entire length of the river amongst the rapids. Here we should have passed a tolerable night, had it not been that one of my men got to my stores, and stole sufficient cachaça (white rum) to make him not only very drunk, but also so offensively noisy, that I had to get up several times during the night and quiet him, not only by threats, but also by a mild application of corporal punishment. It is a very bad plan to be continually beating one’s peons, or Indian servants, for every fault they commit. A patron who always has a blow or a bad word for his men cannot expect even Indians to esteem him or work willingly for him; but it must be borne in mind that there is no law or authority to appeal to in the solitudes that have to be travelled through in the centre of South America: in fact, the patron must be the judge, and frequently the executioner as well, of the law; and for serious offences, such as gross insubordination, theft, or continued drunkenness, there is no other remedy than a judiciouslyapplied whipping. The best plan will be found, when the necessity arises, to form a court of which perforce you must constitute yourself both judge and witness, condemn the criminal to a punishment proportionate to the offence, and have the sentence duly administered by the captain of the crew. Thus the men will see that they are not arbitrarily punished, and a proper amount of discipline will be maintained; but I am bound to say that the Bolivian Indians can be perfectly well managed with a very slight show of authority.
The next morning I had a good deal of trouble to get my drunken reveller on board, and very soon after starting he dropped his paddle in the river, probably doing so on purpose, in order that he should not be made to work. This was very annoying, but it was of little use punishing a man in his condition, so we had to make the best way we could with one paddle short. About half-past eight in the morning we got to the next rapid, called “Morinhos,” during a heavy fall of rain, and made preparations for ascending by a channel on the right or eastern bank. The upper part only of the cargoes of the canoes was unloaded at this rapid, and the crews assisting each other, all the craft were passed through the broken waters in about four hours. Some 200 yards above the fall we had some heavy roping work, and my canoe again struck on a rock in a full current, giving us altogether five or six hours’ hard work to get free; but at length we got off again, and roped ahead to where the other patrons had awaited us. Arriving by night at the resting-place, or “pascana,” as it iscalled, is very unpleasant, as the boys have not time to put up my small tent or screen of waterproofs, and paddling after dark is very dangerous. Hereabouts it became clear that my crew could not keep up with the other canoes, so I asked the Bolivian patrons to go ahead and leave me to my snail’s pace; this, however, they refused to do. The reason for my delay was clearly that I had a most wretched crew in my canoe, great in number—being sixteen in all—but worthless in quality; and also they were men of different villages, and therefore did not work well together. To travel amongst the rapids with any degree of pleasure, one must be able to do as did one of the Bolivian patrons, Don Miguel Cuellas, who owned three of the largest canoes; two of the others belonging to one Señor Juan de Dios Molina, and the remaining one, besides my own, to Don Ruperto Morales. Each of Señor Cuellas’ canoes was manned with men from one village, two having none but Baures, while the other had Itonamas only; thus the men understand their captains, and work with will like a machine. Where practicable, the plan is to find a good captain and let him select his men from amongst his own “parientes” or relations.
On the 30th we did a good day’s work, my crew improving a little, and at night we stopped on the left bank, opposite the mouth of the river Yaci Paraná, that enters the Madeira on the eastern or Brazilian side. The night was passed in a wild cane brake, a kind of reed called in the district “chuchia,” and from the straight tops of which the savages make their arrows. The morning of the1st of May broke with a very heavy fog, which, hanging over the river, did not lift until the sun attained full power by about eight o’clock. We made our start, however, at 4.15 a.m., and during the whole day paddled straight forward, the only troubles being in places where the fallen trees stretching out from the banks forced us to go out into the river where the current is always very powerful. These awkward spots being of frequent occurrence, my poor fellows could not keep up with the other crews, but after a very hard day’s work we got, at 6.30 p.m., to an “igarapé,” or ravine, on the left bank, where one of the Bolivian patrons had waited for me. This igarapé is known as the “igarapé de los Caripunas,” as these savages have a “malocal,” or clearing, in the forest about eight miles from the river. They are often to be met with hereabouts, but I was not fortunate enough to come across them. The fogs were on again the following morning, but, nevertheless, we started at 4.30 a.m., and crossed over to an island known as Capitan Cinco’s, this being the name of the head man of the savages of the Caripuna tribe. We coasted round this island until about 10 a.m., when we crossed over to the mainland on the railway side of the river, namely the eastern or Brazilian side. From 11.30 a.m. to 1.30 p.m. we stopped for breakfast about half a mile below where the other canoes had pulled up. In the afternoon we paddled on till half-past six at night, when we got to some huts left by the railway engineers, and known by the name of “Buena Esperanza;” the Bolivian patrons having arrived there as early as three o’clock inthe afternoon. Here I had a conversation with the Bolivian patrons, and sought their advice as to the slow rate at which my men managed to paddle the canoe, and heard, to my disgust, that there was a report going about that my rations to the crew were insufficient, and that some of my men had said so. The rations I had been giving my men were daily ¾lb. of charqui (jerked beef), 1½lb. of farinha (yuca flour), some rice, flour, sugar, coffee, and a liberal serving of cachaça (white rum) night and morning. The meat, rice, and farinha were, in my case, larger rations than those given by the Bolivian patrons to their men, while the sugar and coffee were extras altogether; and the other men only got tots of cachaça after working in the water, or any other specially trying work. I was very much annoyed at this wretched lie, the fact being that my crew was composed of a thoroughly worthless set of fellows; too lazy even to make themselves a cup of coffee before starting in the early morning.