CHAPTER XII.The rapid of Araras—Farinha and sardines for supper—Difficulty of treating the Indians successfully when they are sick—The current of Periquitos—Arrival at the Rabo do Ribeirão—The Bolivian Indian’s chaunt at night—Passage of the Rabo do Ribeirão—Quantity of farinha consumed by boatmen, in the form of “shebeeâ€â€”Canoe aground in the bay below the main fall of Ribeirão—The river Ribeirão—The portage of Ribeirão—Curious marks on rocks.
The rapid of Araras—Farinha and sardines for supper—Difficulty of treating the Indians successfully when they are sick—The current of Periquitos—Arrival at the Rabo do Ribeirão—The Bolivian Indian’s chaunt at night—Passage of the Rabo do Ribeirão—Quantity of farinha consumed by boatmen, in the form of “shebeeâ€â€”Canoe aground in the bay below the main fall of Ribeirão—The river Ribeirão—The portage of Ribeirão—Curious marks on rocks.
The following morning, the 18th, another very early start was made, and at daybreak we heard a gunshot from the other side, and knew thereby that the Bolivian patrons had crossed over to the other side, to which I accordingly made haste to follow; but we soon had to recross, on account of strong currents amongst the islands that are below the rapid of Araras. These constant crossings of the river cause one to lose much ground, as in mid-stream the current always takes one a considerable distance down stream, and it requires very strong pulling even in a small canoe to cross from bank to bank in a straight line. After coasting round the islands we finally went over to the right bank again, and ascended the rapid by one rope’s length of hauling for about eighty feet, so that this cachuela was, in the then state of the river, passed very easily. It is said that when the river is dry it should be ascended on the left bank at this rapid, but at full river thereis a very heavy “olada,†or wave, on that bank. We got to another of the engineering stations, called “Barracão das Araras,†about half-past eleven, and called a halt for breakfast; but before we could get our meal cooked, a heavy storm of rain fell and put out all the fires, so that we had to eat our food in a half-cooked state. A soup with farinha, rice, and onions, in a semi-raw condition, is not the most palatable of dishes, but a good appetite never fails one up the rapids; so we make the best of circumstances, and thinking ourselves lucky even to get a half-cooked breakfast, paddle on till 5 p.m., when the rain again bothers us, and we pull up for the night, and content ourselves with a dish of wetted farinha and sardines for supper. Many people would fancy this but a poor repast, but I found on many occasions, when perhaps time or circumstances did not allow any cooking to be done, that I could satisfy my hunger very well indeed with these homely articles. The mode of preparation is very simple indeed: take a bowl full of farinha, and pick out the small sticks and lumps that are always found in Brazilian farinha, and then moisten with sufficient water to make the grains soft but not pappy, break up three or four sardines and mix them with the farinha, pouring a little of the oil over it as well. The dish is then ready, and wants nothing but good appetite for sauce.
The next morning, the 19th, was damp and dull, and we started somewhat later than usual, the men being tired and downhearted with the rain. My Canichana, Candido Cayuva, passed a very bad night with the ague—and I do not wonder at it, forhe must have got thoroughly wet through during the day—and, indeed, it was a miracle that he did not die during the night. He complained last night of pains in his chest, and I gave him twenty-five drops of chlorodine, and some arnica to rub where the pain was most violent. He felt much better after this, and I found out this morning that, feeling so, he had, like a madman, bathed at nightfall in the river; consequently he had a strong return of fever during the night, and it was indeed wonderful that he survived. So difficult is it to treat these Indians with any chance of success, for at any moment they will commit some foolish act that may carry them off at a moment’s notice.
We arrived at the corriente of “Periquitos†about half-past ten, and although the cachuela was rather fierce, and the wave somewhat high, we passed the canoe safely up the right bank without any very great deal of trouble or danger. We kept on at work till seven in the evening, when we got up to the last corriente of the “Rabo do Ribeirão,†and, arriving after dark, had to make the canoes fast in a most awkward place, where they bumped on the rocks all night in a wretched manner, so that one got very little, if any, sleep.
Besides being kept from sleep by the constant bumping on the rocks, we were treated by our men to more than the usual nightly allowance of chanting. The Bolivian Indians of the Beni, having been civilized by the Jesuit missionaries, are exceedingly superstitious, and when on a dangerous journey are very regular with their nightly orisons, the refrain of which forms a prayer to the Virgin(“a livrar nos siempre de todo malâ€) to “deliver us always from every ill.†These words are sung to a rather solemn chant, and as many of the men have very fair voices, and not at all a bad idea of harmony, the singing at night, if one be not too near to it, has a very soothing and pleasant effect. The passage of the rapids of Ribeirão, being considered both difficult and dangerous, accounts for an extra allowance of the chanting the night before the first corrientes were ascended.
The passage of the “Rabo,†or tail, and the main fall of Ribeirão occupied us three whole days and part of the fourth. The Rabo extends for about five miles below the real fall, and is a succession of whirlpools and currents, extremely dangerous to canoes either on the upward or downward journey. The downward journey is by far the most dangerous, as the canoes have to be steered in full course through the boulders and rocks scattered over this length of the river, which here has an average fall of about four and a half feet per mile.
At daybreak on the 20th we commenced the arduous ascent, and by breakfast-time had overcome eight severe corrientes. The next one was about three quarters of a mile in length, being one continued current, running possibly about eight miles an hour for the whole distance. We failed to get to the top of this corriente before dark, and had to dodge inside a sandbank, which fortunately afforded a resting-place for the night.
On the 21st we started as soon as we could see—for amongst these strong currents it is impossible to move in the dark—and proceeded up the creekformed between an island and the right bank of the mainland. Here also the current is very strong, and forms, one may say, a continuous cachuela, up which we have to pass in ropes’ lengths. The progress made was consequently slow, and as the greater part of my men were sick, I was greatly dependent on my Bolivian friends for assistance. Fortunately I had good stocks of cachaça (white rum) and farinha (yuca flour), and at each stoppage I plied the men of the other canoes with a tot of rum and a handful of farinha; so they helped me along willingly. This farinha they eat constantly during the journey, putting about a handful into a gourd or calabash (“tortumaâ€), filling up with water, and they seem to find much refreshment from this preparation, which they call “shebee.†So fond are they of it, that frequent halts for “shebeeâ€-taking have to be allowed, the mayordomos and others of a higher grade adding a little sugar to the mess when they can obtain it; but this latter luxurious addition the poor peons seldom get, although mine had it throughout the voyage, for I had taken a large stock of coarse sugar with me. In the afternoon we had to partially unload the canoes in order to ascend the current known as the “Cuerpo del Rabo,†or the “body of the tail,†and at dusk made fast at the top, and set to work carrying overland the cargo taken out of the canoes, so that we might be ready again for an early start next day.
Next morning, the 22nd, we started at 6 a.m., after having had to catch the fowls, of which I still had ten left, and which the boys had allowed to escape from the coop, that had got much broken inthe work of carrying it over the land portages. I feared they would all be lost in the forest, but when free they appeared to be quite dazed, and were caught without very much trouble, a couple of wildish ones being shot as the quickest means of stopping them. Roping and hauling by the bushes, we proceeded but slowly, but soon got a sight of the “salto†itself. This is the main body of the fall, with a drop of about fourteen feet; and imposing enough it looked, being much broken up into islands, with huge waves breaking heavily over the numerous rocks. The river at the Rabo and at the fall is very broad, and this probably accounts for the name of Ribeirão, or “great river,†being given to this part of it. Two corrientes were ascended by roping, and then a short stretch at the paddles brought us to another, the thirteenth of the series forming the “rabo,†and which we ascended between the land and a large tree that forms a point. This is at times the last current before entering the remanso that takes the canoes up to the foot of the main fall. There proved, however, to be two more before we got into the bay with its “remanso†and “olada,†that form the chief and most dangerous features of the passage of this salto. One of my Bolivian friends lent me a second captain, and I took the men out of the small canoe, or “montaria,†so that I passed these dangers with fourteen paddles going and two captains aft, each using his big paddle for steering, one on either side of the “popa,†or stern. It is a great help throughout the journey to have two good captains behind, for when strong currents or dangerous bits of river have to be encountered,one of them can keep the boat in its proper course; while the other encourages the paddlers forward, keeping them together in their strokes by shouts and good sounding thumps of his heel on the projecting boards on which the captains have to stand behind the “camarota,†or cabin.
The wave, or “olada,†was not nearly so bad as that met with at Theotonio, and as the canoe was much lighter we passed very well, the only approach to a casualty being that we grounded on a sandbank in the bay, on which a canoe preceding us had struck also, but which it was impossible to avoid from the set of the current right on to it. However, the peons jumped into the water with great alacrity, and pushed us afloat again before the waves had time to swamp us. I had heard a good deal of the danger of this “remanso†and “olada,†but with a good crew and captains, and a garitea well up at the prow, I don’t think it is much to be feared. The unloading place for the land portage is a short distance up the mouth of the river Ribeirão, which comes into the big river a stone’s throw below the fall on the right or Brazilian side, and we got safely into quiet water up the Ribeirão by about 1 p.m., overtaking two of the Bolivian patrons who had got ahead of me, and had already passed their canoes and cargoes over the portage.
The “arrastre,†or portage, is not nearly so steep as at Theotonio or Girão, being, perhaps, an ascent of one in eight for about 100 yards over a pretty even bed of rock, then one in twelve over earth for another 200 yards, level for 200 more, and then sharp down to the river in about a further 100 yards, at the rate of about one in four.
We got our cargoes unloaded, two canoes being hauled over the portage before dark, my own being left for the following day. To drag the heavy canoes up the ascent taxed all the powers of the thirty men that we could get together for the work, but by dint of cachaça and shouting we got the craft over without assistance from the patrons who had preceded us.
The accompanying sketches of curious marks to be seen on rocks at three of the rapids, were made by Mr. Alan Grant-Dalton, who was my able and indefatigable assistant engineer during our stay at San Antonio. My ascent of the rapids having been made whilst the river was in flood, these marks were all under water, and I was consequently unable to inspect them; but I have been assured by many travellers that Mr. Grant-Dalton’s sketches are exact and faithful copies of the inscriptions. Most probably they are the work of the Caripuna, or other wandering savages, for the Bolivian Indians ascending and descending the river are not likely to have wasted their time cutting these figures out of the hard rock.
CURIOUS INSCRIPTIONS ON ROCKS AT DIFFERENT RAPIDS.At Trés Irmãos, 40 feet below highest flood water.At Ribeirão, 35 feet below highest flood water.At Madeira, 35 feet below highest flood water.
CURIOUS INSCRIPTIONS ON ROCKS AT DIFFERENT RAPIDS.At Trés Irmãos, 40 feet below highest flood water.At Ribeirão, 35 feet below highest flood water.At Madeira, 35 feet below highest flood water.
CURIOUS INSCRIPTIONS ON ROCKS AT DIFFERENT RAPIDS.
At Trés Irmãos, 40 feet below highest flood water.
At Ribeirão, 35 feet below highest flood water.
At Madeira, 35 feet below highest flood water.