CHAPTER XVI.Junction of the river Itenez—Short description of the Itenez or Guaporé and its affluents—Fires at night prohibited on account of savages—A capybara shot—Abundance of game above the rapids—False alarms of attack by savages—Cooking-stove rigged up in the canoe—The river Matocari—Hard work towing canoe—Open pampas—Strong gale from the south hinders progress—Chocolotales of Exaltacion—Falling banks—Estancia de Santiago—Value of oxen in the Estancias of Mojos.
Junction of the river Itenez—Short description of the Itenez or Guaporé and its affluents—Fires at night prohibited on account of savages—A capybara shot—Abundance of game above the rapids—False alarms of attack by savages—Cooking-stove rigged up in the canoe—The river Matocari—Hard work towing canoe—Open pampas—Strong gale from the south hinders progress—Chocolotales of Exaltacion—Falling banks—Estancia de Santiago—Value of oxen in the Estancias of Mojos.
June 7th. Starting at twenty minutes past midnight, we were soon left behind by the other canoes, and at daybreak there was a thick mist on, which cleared up by about seven o’clock; but no canoes were in sight. On the left bank there are many lagoons, for the number of ducks, cranes, and other waterfowl hereabouts was very great. We passed a long stretch of falling bank, with some trees overhanging, and looking, as we passed under them, much as though they would fall on us. The current underneath these falling banks is always very strong, and gives great trouble to overcome, on account of the large number of trees and dead wood at the foot of the bank. The river began to widen considerably, and as the wind blew strongly up stream, a very considerable sea soon arose.
About 11 a.m. we got in sight of the junction of a river on the right bank, and at first took itfor the Itenez; but it turned out only to be an arm of that river, for, proceeding onwards, we saw the other canoes encamped upon a large sandbank formed between the junction of the Itenez and the Mamoré. The river Itenez, whose waters are clear and dark-coloured, whilst the Mamoré’s are muddy and whitish, is much wider than the Mamoré, which, however, gives its colour to the united waters below the junction, thus proving, probably, that the volume of its waters is greater than that of the Itenez. Both these rivers are exceedingly handsome at the junction, and so fine a “meeting of the waters” it would be difficult to match. This junction may be said to be the point of union of the extensive system of rivers that flow over the northern plain of Bolivia, and down part of the southern slope of the Cordilhera Geral, in the province of Mato Grosso in Brazil. The river Itenez in its higher portions is called the Guaporé, its head waters being separated from those of the river Paraguay by a land portage of but few miles in length. There are but few settlements or villages upon its right bank, or on the tributaries that empty themselves into it on that side, the town of Mato Grosso, near the source, being the one of most consequence, while the fort of Principe da Beira, about fifty miles from the junction, is simply a Brazilian outpost, at which, however, a considerable fortification has been erected. On the left bank there enter two rivers, called the Maddalena and the Baure, or Blanco, which are entirely in Bolivian territory; and on these rivers are some important villages, peopled by different tribes of civilized Indians, who were Christianizedby the Jesuit missionaries of the Beni, and are to-day reckoned with that department. On a branch of the Baure River, near the abandoned missions of San Simon and San Nicolas, gold quartz veins of surpassing richness have, for some years, been known to exist, and a Chilian society has lately been formed to work these reefs. With the river Itenez we have nothing more to do; the Mamoré, the sources of which are all in Bolivian territory, being the river up which the journey was prosecuted.
In this part of the journey the Bolivians talk a great deal of the presence of “barbaros,” and orders were given that the canoes should not separate as they had hitherto done; but I had little hope that the order would be carried out, for my men had taken it into their heads to be sick again with fevers and ague, so that my canoe was generally a long way behind the others.
We left the junction of the rivers about 3 p.m., and at 5 p.m. stopped again for the evening meal, starting again in about half an hour, and keeping on till about nine, when we stopped at a large playa for the night. Here the Bolivian patrons gave a good sample of the discipline they maintain with their Indians. The orders were that, as we were in territories supposed to be much roamed over by the savages, we were to start early—as soon after midnight as possible—keep on till breakfast-time, about 8 or 9 a.m., then on again till dinner, about 5 or 6 p.m., when we were to shift quarters again ahead to some convenient spot—a playa, if possible—where, making fast the canoes quietly, we were to sleep till midnight, and then start ahead again. At thissleeping-place no lights or loud talking to be allowed. Instead of this, when we got to this playa, one of the crews, who had some lumps of alligator flesh unroasted, lit fires and cooked the meat, and the patrons said nothing to them; and it appeared to me that the fear of losing the meat, although they had an enormous quantity already roasted, was greater than the fear of attack from the barbaros. Doubtless there are barbaros hereabouts, especially in the lands bordering on the Itenez, and higher up the Mamoré; there is also an igarapé below the junction of the two great rivers on the left bank, which leads up into districts bordering on the higher parts of the Beni, where the Chacobo barbaros are said to be in great numbers; but it is a chance that they should beonthe great river, and my experience would go to prove that they will not attack even a single canoe, or else I was lucky enough to ascend the river when they were not on its banks, but up country.
June 8th. We started at 2 a.m., and kept up the right bank of the Mamoré, and having left the Madeira below the junction, we are now altogether in Bolivian territory. This morning I paddled from the start till breakfast-time, at 9 a.m., and kept the men sharp to their work, succeeding so well that we kept up with the other canoes, thus proving that when my men chose to work well there was no reason why we should be behindhand. When I work we have thirteen paddles going, and this number ought to and can send our canoe, which is not a large one, along right well; but if I take a short nap, or rest a time in the camarote, the mensleep at their paddles, and we then drop to the rear.
About 5.30 this morning, before it was fairly light, we passed an open pampa, with an igarapé running out at a sharp angle up stream into the river. It appeared as though it was a large drain cut by hand, for the slopes were just like canal banks, being covered with short grass, while the water running down was clear, and seemingly some three or four feet in depth.
Just above this igarapé I saw a large dark animal, the size of a large hog, moving slowly up the river bank, having, apparently, just emerged from its morning bath. In the dim light I could not be sure whether it was an animal or a savage, but as we were only about a dozen yards from the bank, I dropped my paddle, and taking up my gun, which was always ready to hand, let fly a charge of B B at the moving mass, which rolled down the bank into the river again. It proved to be a “capybara,” or water-hog, and I was much pleased, as I had heard a great deal of this animal, and had never seen it or got a good description of it. The savages make ear ornaments of the front teeth of this rodent, and I have already stated that I was fortunate enough to get four of these from the Pacaguaras of the river Trés Irmãos. The capybara has the body of a pig, the hind quarters slightly humped and covered with long bristles; the feet are three hoofed; legs short and stumpy, but with plenty of flesh on them; the head is almost exactly the shape of a rat’s, with three upper and three lower teeth just like the incisors of a rat or rabbit. Its colour is a dark dunall over. The teeth are very difficult to get out of the head, more than three parts of their length being set in the jaws. The only way is to hang the skull up until it dries sufficiently to allow the teeth to shake out, but this is an affair of some months.
This capybara gave us plenty of good fresh meat, for I should think we got about four or five Bolivian arrobas, say 1 or 1¼ cwt. from him; whole, he took four of my strongest men to drag him along. The meat greatly resembles the flesh of river turtles, but it is not so tough; one can’t compare it to any other kind of animal flesh, it isn’t like beef or pork, but is something like rather tasteless veal. The fat cannot be eaten, as it has a strong fishy taste. On arriving at the breakfast place we cooked some steaks, which were very palatable, and roughly roasted the joints, that being the way in which the meat is kept when time will not allow of its being properly made into charqui,i.e.jerked or dried in the sun.
In the afternoon I shot a cayman for the men, who had for some days been anxious to get one; this fellow was about eight feet long, and was among the reeds (capim) at the foot of the bank. A charge of B B in his eye troubled him seriously, and backing the canoe to him, we finished him with a bullet in the same eye that was wounded by the shot. Hauling him on board, we put him in the bows of the canoe in order that we might roast or “chapapear” him at the first stopping-place. I also shot to-day a large stork, called here a “cabeça seca,” or dry head, very much like, and probably identical with, the “adjutant” of Calcutta. This fellow stands about a couple of feet off the ground, body white with blackfeathers in the wings, head fearfully ugly, with wattles all down the neck and bare head. In this part of the river every canoe is well stocked with meat, for everything seems eatable here. Birds of all kinds are eaten, except, of course, vultures and hawks, called here “souchus” and “gabilans;” also a very common bird on these rivers, called a “cigana,” and which is I think the “hoopoe;” so, also, everything else, be it monkey, lizard, or alligator, is welcome to the men. This abundance of meat, whether fish, flesh, or fowl, justifies, in some measure, the practice of the Bolivian patrons, of trusting to the shooting above the rapids for meat, and giving all the Obidos charqui, etc., to the men amongst the cachuelas.
At 2 p.m. another halt was ordered for dinner, and then to row on till 10 p.m. for a short rest. About five o’clock we crossed from the right to the left bank, one of Don Miguel’s canoes dropping behind to allow the large batelão and my own canoe to get into proper file, as Don Miguel had given orders to one of his mayordomos always to stop in the rear. Just as I pulled up into my place, I heard shouting, and saw the peons of the rearmost canoe, many of whom had gone on shore, come running down the bank and throw themselves into the river, shouting out “Los bougres! los bougres!” The mayordomo mounted on the top of the camarote with his rifle, and I, concluding that the men had seen barbaros in the forest, ordered my crew to paddle out from under the bank, so that I might get a range for my rifle if necessary. The sun was, however, setting right in our faces, and prevented my seeing what was going on with the other canoe. Themayordomo fired three shots, and, when his peons had struggled into the canoe, paddled away as quickly as possible, shouting to the canoes that were on ahead, and to the crew of one, who, a short distance up stream, had landed on a sandbank, and were roasting alligator-flesh. When we all got together again, I found that the peons who went on shore, declared that they had seen two barbaros in the bush, and that the mayordomo had seen three on the bank some distance down stream. At these he fired, but, from the fact of the sun being in line, he could not be sure whether he hit them or not. Every one was much alarmed, as the savages hereabouts are said to be very bold; having at this spot, about three years ago, attacked a single canoe, killing a Brazilian, who was going to Bolivia as consul, and all his crew except one Indian, who managed to hide in the bush and then find his way by land to Exaltacion. We kept on until 7 p.m., when, crossing the river, we got to a large playa, at which we made fast for the night, no fires being allowed, and the night passed quietly.
June 9th. The start was made at 2 a.m., the canoes working up the right bank until daylight, when we were obliged to cross over to the other side, in order to avoid a strong current that we could not overcome with the paddles. I took a paddle till daylight, and then went on watch, rifle in hand, ready to do my best in case of a discharge of arrows from the bush; but my good fortune prevailed, and although we were, during the greater part of the day, far behind the other canoes, no attack was made upon us. There was a very cold wind fromthe south beginning to blow to-day, the men seeming to suffer much from it—one of them especially complaining greatly of the effect on his eyes, which were almost closed up, and apparently giving him great pain.
The usual halts for breakfast and dinner were made during the day, and at nightfall we moved on up the river, looking for a playa to pass the night on. While paddling on in the dark, some of the canoes being on either side of the river, we were startled by hearing four shots fired from the canoes on the opposite side to ourselves. It was impossible to cross the river in the dark, and so we had to wait in great anxiety to know what was occurring. The firing ceasing, I kept on up stream, and overtook Señor Morales, who was on the same side of the river, from whence we heard the canoes opposite to us proceeding on their way, and we accordingly judged that there had been a false alarm. Soon afterwards the moon rose, and Don Miguel’s canoes came over to our side, and we learned that they had heard, while waiting for the large canoe that had fallen somewhat in the rear, some suspicious noises in the bush, sticks cracking, as though from being trodden upon; so they discharged their guns in the direction of the sounds, and soon afterwards crossed over to the side where Señor Morales and I were. The funk about barbaros was now at its height, and every little noise in the bush, whether by night or by day, is set down to barbaros following the canoes, until a convenient spot, such as a point of land commanding the canoes as they ascended near the bank, should be chosen for the attack. Arriving ata small playa, which afforded a clear space of about a score of yards to the forest, we made fast for the night, sleeping pretty soundly for a few hours, although we had no watch set or sentinels on guard.
June 10th. Started at 2.15 a.m., and by good luck I was able to keep my canoe somewhat ahead of the others, as towards daylight the other patrons and their mayordomos stopped about a good deal, shooting pavas, which were very numerous hereabouts. I did not get any, as to have tried to do so would have necessitated my stopping also to follow the birds into the bush, and I could not afford to lose the good place I had obtained to-day in the file of canoes.
To-day I rigged up a cooking-stove in the canoe, by filling a large zinc basin that I had with sand, and thus I was able to get a cup of coffee or even some “chupe” for breakfast, prepared by my boy while the canoe wasen route. This saved me a good deal of time, and enabled me to get something to eat at the hour most agreeable to me, and as the stoppages for breakfast and dinner were now made very early in the day, I found the invention a very good and useful one.
We had been travelling for the last three days through a very uniformly level country, but slightly raised above the highest flood line, but the forest still continues on either side of the river, the pampas passed as yet having been very small. The river keeps very good for navigation, although the many playas would give a pilot considerable trouble at night, the canoes often getting fast in the mud, andhaving to be guided into deep water by a man at the bow with a sounding-pole.
June 11th. We started very early at 1.15 a.m., and at 3 a.m. passed an igarapé, on the left bank, called the “Mayosa,” which appears to be one of the few well-known points between the junction of the Itenez and the pueblo of Exaltacion. There was nothing special to record during the day, and about 6 p.m., as we came to a large playa, formed by a rocky formation, we concluded to stop for the night, and let the men get a little more sleep than they had lately been able to have allowed them.
June 12th. Started at 2 a.m., and at 8 a.m. we passed the river Matocari, emptying into the Mamoré on the right bank, its outlet being about fifty yards in width. This stream is said to be navigable as far as the villages of San Ramon and San Joaquin, which are distant from the Mamoré about two days’ paddle during the rainy season. Goods for these villages may in that season be taken up this river, instead of being taken down to the junction of the Itenez, and passing the Fort of Principe da Beira, up the river Maddalena. During the afternoon we passed many pampas on either side of the river, which still keeps a fair breadth of about 500 or 600 yards. The pampas seem to be slightly raised above the highest river level, but sufficiently so to prevent their being flooded except in very high floods. At night we were unable to find any playa convenient for the night halt, so we made fast the canoes to a stump about fifteen yards from the shore.
June 13th. The morning was very cold andchilly; we started at 1.30 a.m., crossing over to the left bank, following in rear of the big canoe, or batelão. Towards 4 a.m. a very strong and cold wind came up from the south, with a thick fog, and we made poor progress, crossing from one bank to another on account of strong currents, in one case having to send the men on shore to pull with the rope, which was very hard work, as the mud on the bank was very soft, making the men very cold, wet, and dirty, as they sank in it at every step up to their knees. When they came on board again, I served them with a ration of cachaça, and when the day broke we found that, notwithstanding all our mishaps, we were well up with the other canoes. The cold wind seemed to make the men very stupid and dull, and their rate of paddling got to be so bad, that, as I was determined not to lose the other canoes, I had to keep on without stopping to cook any breakfast, but made shift with what we had left over from the previous day.
About mid-day we came to large open pampas on either side of the river, which in this part of its course has some very severe bends, some of them being almost right angles. On the left bank is a grove of trees standing alone, and looking almost like young poplars, and as they are on the top of a cliff-like bank of yellow earth cut down by the current straight to the water, they form rather a remarkable landmark. In consequence of repeated crossings of the river to avoid shoals or currents, we made but slow progress, and this part of the river will require a good deal of study before steamers will be able to navigate easily, the playasespecially being very numerous, and stretching out a great distance into the river.
We stopped for the night on the left bank, at a very large playa, which was so soft and muddy, that in trying to go after some ducks, I got thoroughly into it, and had to crawl out on hands and knees. Through this I spoiled a good pair of high boots; for my boy, who should have washed and dried them carefully, put them right into the fire for the second operation, and burnt the fronts completely off. During the night the south wind increased to almost a gale, and we were cold and miserable till morning.
June 14th. We did not start till 5.30 a.m., and made but poor progress on account of the gale which, blowing down on us, keeps us back. The men, also, are apparently quite unable to put out any power, and look more like a lot of blue-faced mummies than men, for it is curious how blue the Indians seem to turn when suffering intense cold, which certainly knocks them up much more than the hottest sun does. The country now appears more open, and extensive pampas are now very frequently occurring. This day we could only work about twelve hours, and at night the gale moderated.
June 15th. Started at 3.30 a.m., the day breaking cold and dull like the preceding ones, but the wind had somewhat moderated from that of yesterday, which might be termed half a gale.
The men still seemed in a numbed state, and it was impossible to get the least exertion out of them, for they paddle in an inert and wretched manner during the continuance of the cold. My thermometer had unfortunately got broken, but I should judgethat the mercury would have stood very near, if not below, 50° Fahr.
At breakfast time to-day we found, on landing and passing through the fringe of forest on the bank, that we had arrived at the “chocolotales” of Exaltacion so that at last we had arrived near to some sort of civilization. These “chocolotales” appear to be very extensive and are found on both sides of the river, but to discover them it is necessary to go ashore and push one’s way through the belt or fringe of chuchia and brushwood that has been left all along the river bank. These plantations of cocoa trees, or “chocolotales,” as they are called, were made in the last century by the Mojos Indians of the department of the Beni, who were gathered together from their wandering habits, and formed into villages by the Jesuit missionaries of the Spanish South American dependencies of Peru and Bolivia. They are very extensive, and are now claimed as government properties, being farmed out, by the authorities of Exaltacion and Trinidad, to speculators who make good profits, as there is no labour, or very little, expended in clearing. At the proper season, which is during the months when the river is in flood, from February to March, the Cayubaba Indians from Exaltacion descend to these plantations, and collecting the cocoa pods which are then ripe, clear the trees somewhat of the dead leaves and rubbish that has fallen during the year, leaving the chocolotales to the savages and wild animals until the collecting time again comes round.
During the afternoon we passed a succession of these chocolotales, and also some small clearings, or“chacos,” with plantains and other fruits growing in abundance. Each chaco has its hut, where the Cayubabas live during the few months in which they stay upon their plantations; but there were no inhabitants, the proper season for staying down the river having gone by. The absence of the proprietors did not, however, keep my fellow-travellers and the Indian boatmen from helping themselves to all the plantains and pumpkins that they could lay their hands on; and I was told that it was an understood custom that all travellers should help themselves as freely as they wished at these plantations, which are the first that parties ascending the rapids into Bolivia can arrive at.
Hereabouts we had to cross to the right bank to avoid a very strong current; and having to go under a very long stretch of falling bank, we very narrowly escaped being buried by a fall of many tons of earth. While paddling along, our captain saw ahead, small pieces of earth dropping down the straight wall of the bank, and just had time to sheer out into mid-river when down the mass came, very nearly bringing with it a lofty tree, which, had it fallen, would certainly have reached us with its topmost branches. Canoes ascending the river are much exposed to this danger, and in passing under these falling banks a constant watch must be kept.
To-day we found an arrow floating down the river, which the men declared to belong to the Chacobo tribe of savages that roam about in these districts; the arrow was of same size, form, and make as those used by the Caripunas and Pacaguaras of the Rapids.
At night we stopped opposite to the “Estancia de Santiago,” the first of the cattle feeding-grounds of Bolivia that one arrives at in ascending the Mamoré. This was formerly the property of Don Barros Cardozo, Brazilian Consul in the Beni for some years, and who had been murdered by one of his Brazilian servants only a few weeks previously, as we had been informed by the canoes we met descending the river at the Misericordia Rapid. We now learned that the assassin had been hunted by the mayordomo, and other servants of the deceased consul, for some days, until he was discovered endeavouring to escape down the river in a small canoe; and that, as he refused to surrender and menaced his pursuers with the same knife with which he had murdered his master, he was shot down and killed without waiting for process of law. This estancia is reported to have nearly 8000 head of cattle, and I was informed that, had the consul not lost his life, he had intended to drive a large number of his cattle by land from Guajará Merim to San Antonio. From the estancia to the first cachuela, the cattle would have been taken in canoes or on rafts—a comparatively easy work, as the navigation is entirely free from other obstacle than the playas or banks of sand which stretch out into the river at low water, leaving, however, in every case a channel deep enough and wide enough for craft that do not draw much water. Pasturage for the cattle would be easily found at night along the river banks, which are covered with “capim,” a rough wild grass, or “chuchia,” the wild cane, the succulent points of which are greedily eaten by the cattle. Oxen in theestancias of Mojos are worth from fifteen to twenty “pesos faibles,” say about £2 10s.to £3 10s.a head, while at San Antonio and on the higher Madeira they are worth from eighty to one hundred milreis, or £8 to £10.