Chapter X.
From our misfortunes, I named our encampment, on Wava Lagoon, “Fever Camp,” although so far from contracting the fever there, I am sure it was its open and elevated position which contributed to my recovery. The fever was rather due to over-exertion, and exposure at night; for the night-damps, on all low coasts under the tropics, are unquestionably deadly, and the traveler cannot be too careful in avoiding them. Early in the afternoon of the day of our departure from “Fever Camp,” we entered a large stream, flowing into the lagoon from the north-west, upon the banks of which, judging from the direction of the smoke we had seen, the Indian villages were situated. We were not mistaken. Before night we came to a village largerthan that on the Rio Grande, but in other respects much the same, except that it stood upon the edge of an extensive savannah, instead of on the skirt of an impenetrable forest. Around it were extensive plantations of cassava, and other fruits and vegetables, growing in the greatest luxuriance, and indicating that the soil of the inland savannahs does not share the aridity of those nearer the coast. This was further evinced by the scarcity of pines, which were only to be seen on the ridges or gentle elevations with which the surface of the savannah was diversified.
Our appearance here created the same excitement which it had occasioned at the other places we had visited, and our reception was much the same with that which we had experienced on the Rio Grande. Instead, however, of being met by men with wands, we were welcomed by five old men, one of whom vacated his own hut for our accommodation. None here could speak either English or Spanish intelligibly, but the affinity between their language and that of my Poyer enabled him to make known our wants, and obtain all useful information. We were treated hospitably, but with the utmost reserve, and during my whole stay, but a single incident relieved the monotony of the village. This was a marriage—and a very ceremonious affair it was.
These Indians, I should explain, are called Towkas, or Toacas, and have, I presume, all the general characteristics and habits of the Cookras and Woolwas.These do, in fact, constitute a single family, although displaying dialectical differences in their language.
TOWKAS INDIANS.
TOWKAS INDIANS.
TOWKAS INDIANS.
Among all these Indians, polygamy is an exception, while among the Sambos it is the rule. The instances are few in which a man has more than one wife, and in these cases the eldest is not only the head of the family, but exercises a strict supervision over the others. The betrothals are made at a very early age, by the parents, and the affianced children are marked in a corresponding manner, so that one acquainted with the practice can always point out the various mates. These marks consist of little bands of colored cotton, worn either on the arm, above the elbow, or on the leg, below the knee, which are varied in color and number, so that no two combinations in the village shall be the same. The combinations are made by the old men, who takecare that there shall be no confusion. The bands are replaced from time to time, as they become worn and faded. Both boys and girls also wear a necklace of variously-colored shells or beads, to which one is added yearly. When the necklace of the boy counts ten beads or shells, he is calledmuhasal, a word signifying three things,viz., ten, all the fingers, andhalf-a-man. When they number twenty, he is called’all, a word which also signifies three things,viz., twenty, both fingers and toes, anda man. And he is then effectively regarded as a man. Should his affianced, by that time, have reached the age of fifteen, the marriage ceremony takes place without delay.
As I have said, a sleek young Towka was called upon to add the final bead to his string, and take upon himself the obligations of manhood, during my stay at the village. The event had been anticipated by the preparation of a canoe full of palm-wine, mixed with crushed plantains, and a little honey, which had been fermenting, to the utter disgust of my nostrils, from the date of my arrival. The day was observed as a general holiday. Early in the morning all the men of the village assembled, and with their knives carefully removed every blade of grass which had grown up inside of a circle, perhaps a hundred feet in diameter, situated in the very centre of the village, and indicated by a succession of stones sunk in the ground. The earth was then trampled smooth and hard, after which they proceeded to erect a little hut in thevery centre of the circular area, above a large flat stone which was permanently planted there. This hut was made conical, and perfectly close, except an opening at the top, and another at one side, toward the east, which was temporarily closed with a mat, woven of palm-bark. I looked in without hinderance, and saw, piled up on the stone, a quantity of the dry twigs of the copal-tree, covered with the gum of the same. The canoe full of liquor was dragged up to the edge of the circle, and literally covered with small white calabashes, of the size of an ordinary coffee-cup.
At noon, precisely, all the people of the village hurried, without order, to the hut of the bridegroom’s father. I joined in the crowd. We found the “happy swain” arrayed in his best, sitting demurely upon a bundle of articles, closely wrapped in a mat. The old men, to whom I have referred, formed in a line in front of him, and the eldest made him a short address. When he had finished, the next followed, until each had had his say. The youth then got up quietly, shouldered his bundle, and, preceded by the old men, and followed by his father, marched off to the hut of the prospective bride. He put down his load before the closed door, and seated himself upon it in silence. The father then rapped at the door, which was partly opened by an old woman, who asked him what he wanted, to which he made some reply which did not appear to be satisfactory, when the door was shut in his face, and he took his seatbeside his son. One of the old men then rapped, with precisely the same result, then the next, and so on. But the old women were obdurate. The bridegroom’s father tried it again, but the she-dragons would not open the door. The old men then seemed to hold a council, at the end of which a couple of drums (made, as I have already explained, by stretching a raw skin over a section of a hollow tree), and some rude flutes were sent for. The latter were made of pieces of bamboo, and were shaped somewhat like flageolets, each having a mouth-piece, and four stops. The sound was dull and monotonous, although not wholly unmusical.
Certain musicians now appeared, and at once commenced playing on these instruments, breaking out, at long intervals, in a kind of supplicatory chant. After an hour or more of this soothing and rather sleepy kind of music, the inexorable door opened a little, and one of the female inmates glanced out with much affected timidity. Hereupon the musicians redoubled their efforts, and the bridegroom hastened to unroll his bundle. It contained a variety of articles supposed to be acceptable to the parents of the girl. There was, among other things, amachete, no inconsiderable present, when it is understood that the cost of one is generally a largedory, which it requires months of toil to fashion from the rough trunk of the gigantic ceiba. A string of gay glass beads was also produced from the bundle. All these articles were handed in to the women one by one, by the fatherof the groom. With every present the door opened wider and wider, until the mat was presented, when it was turned back to its utmost, revealing the bride arrayed in her “prettiest,” seated on a crickery, at the remotest corner of the hut. The dragons affected to be absorbed in examining the presents, when the bridegroom, watching his opportunity, dashed into the hut, to the apparent utter horror and dismay of the women; and, grasping the girl by the waist, shouldered her like a sack, and started off at a trot for the mystic circle, in the centre of the village. The women pursued, as if to overtake him and rescue the girl, uttering cries for help, while all the crowd huddled after. But the youth was too fast for them; he reached the ring, and lifting the vail of the hut, disappeared within it. The women could not pass the circle, and all stopped short at its edge, and set up a chorus of despairing shrieks, while the men all gathered within the charmed ring, where they squatted themselves, row on row, facing outward. The old men alone remained standing, and a bit of lighted pine having meanwhile been brought, one of them approached the hut, lifted the mat, and, handing in the fire, made a brief speech to the inmates. A few seconds after an aromatic smoke curled up from the opening in the top of the little hut, from which I infer that the copal had been set on fire. What else happened, I am sure I do not know!
When they saw the smoke, the old women grew silent and expectant; but, by-and-by, when it subsided,they became suddenly gay, and “went in strong” for the festivities, which, up to this time, I must confess, I had thought rather slow. But here I may explain, that although the bridegroom has no choice in the selection of his wife, yet if he have reason for doing so, he may, while the copal is burning, take her in his arms, and cast her outside of the circle, in the open day, before the entire people, and thus rid himself of her forever. But in this case, the matter is carefully investigated by the old men, and woe betide the wretch who, by this public act, has impeached a girl wrongfully! Woe equally betide the girl who is proved to have been “put away” for good reasons. If, however, the copal burns out quietly, the groom is supposed to be satisfied, and the marriage is complete.
The copal, in this instance, burned out in the most satisfactory manner, and then the drums and flutes struck up a most energetic air, the music of which consisted of about eight notes, repeated with different degrees of rapidity, by way of giving variety to the melody. The men all kept their places, while I was installed in a seat of honor beside the old men. The women, who, as I have said, could not come within the circle, now commenced filling the calabashes from the canoe, and passing them to the squatting men, commencing with the ancients and the “distinguished guests”—for Antonio and my Poyer were included in our party. There was nothing said, but the women displayed the greatest activity in filling the emptied calabashes.I soon discovered that every body was deliberately and in cold blood getting up of what Captain Drummer called the “big drunk!” That was part of the performance of the day, and the Indians went at it in the most orderly and expeditious manner. They wasted no time in coyish preliminaries—a practice which might be followed in more civilized countries, to the great economy, not only of time, but of the vinous. It was not from the love of the drink that the Towkas imbibed, I can well believe, for theirchichawas bad to look at, and worse to taste.
With the fourth round of the calabashes, an occasional shout betrayed the effects of thechichaupon some of the weaker heads. These shouts became more and more frequent, and were sometimes uttered with a savage emphasis, which was rather startling. The musicians, too, became more energetic, and as the sun declined, the excitement rose, until, unable to keep quiet any longer, all hands got up, and joined in a slow, swinging step around the circle, beating with their knuckles on the empty calabashes, and joining at intervals in a kind of refrain, at the end of which every man struck the bottom of his calabash against that of his neighbor. Then, as they came round by the canoe, each one dipped his calabash full of the contents. The liquid thus taken up was drunk at a single draught, and then the dance went on, growing more rapid with every dip of the calabash. It got to the stage of a trot, and then a fast pace, and finally intosomething little short of a gallop, but still in perfect time. The rattling of the calabashes had now grown so rapid, as almost to be continuous, and the motion so involved and quick, that, as I watched it, I felt that kind of giddiness which one often experiences in watching the gliding of a swift current of water. This movement could not be kept up long, even with the aid ofchicha, and whenever a dancer became exhausted, he would wheel out of line, and throw himself flat on his face on the ground. Finally, every one gave in, except two young fellows, who seemed determined to do, in their way, what other fast young men, in other countries, sometimes undertake to accomplish, viz.: drink each other down, or “under the table.” They danced and drunk, and were applauded by the women, but were so closely matched that it was impossible to tell which had the best chance of keeping it up longest. In fact, each seemed to despair of the other, and, as if by a common impulse, both threw aside their calabashes, and resolved the contest from a trial of endurance into one of strength, leaping at each other’s throats, and fastening their teeth like tigers in each other’s flesh.
There was instantly a great uproar, and those of the men who had the ability to stand, clustered around the combatants in a confused mass, shouting at the stretch of their lungs, and evidently, as I thought, regarding it as a “free fight.” But there was little damage done, for the old men, though emphatically “tight,” had discretion enough to sendthe women for thongs, with which the pugnacious youths were incontinently bound hand and foot, and dragged close to the hut in the centre, and there left to cool themselves off as they were best able, no one taking the slightest notice of them. “Verily,” I ejaculated to myself, “wisdom knoweth no country.”
THE END OF IT!
THE END OF IT!
THE END OF IT!
The dance which I have described was resumed from time to time, until it became quite dark, when the women brought a large number of pine splinters, of which the men each took one. These were lighted, and then the dancers paced up to the little hut, and each tore off one of the branches of which it was built, finally disclosing the newly-married couple sitting demurely side by side. As soon as the hut was demolished, the groom quietly took his bride on his back—literally “shouldering the responsibility!”—and marched off to the hut which had previouslybeen built for his accommodation, escorted by the procession of men with torches. This was the final ceremony of the night, although some of the more dissipated youths returned to the canoe, and kept up a drumming, and piping, and dancing, until morning. Next day every body brought presents of some kind to the newly-married pair, so as to give them a fair start in the world, and enable them to commence life on equal terms with the best in the village.
It would be difficult to find on earth any thing more beautiful than the savannah which spread out, almost as far as the eye could reach, behind the Towkas village. Along the river’s bank rose a tangled wall of verdure; giant ceibas, feathery palms, and the snake-like trunks of themata-palo, all bound together, and draped over with cable-likelianes, (the tie-tie of the English,) and the tenacious tendrils of myriads of creeping and flowering plants. Unlike the wearying, monotonous prairies of the West, the savannah was relieved by clumps of acacias—among them the delicate-leaved gum-arabic—palmettos, and dark groups of pines, arranged with such harmonious disorder, and admirable picturesque effect, that I could scarcely believe the hand of art had not lent its aid to heighten the efforts of nature in her happiest mood.
Finding retreats in the dense coverts of the jungles on the river’s bank, or among the clustering groups of bushes and trees, the antelope and deer, the Indian rabbit andgibeonite, wandered securelyover the savannah, nipping the young grass, or chasing each other in mimic alarm. Here, too, might be observed the crested curassow, with his stately step, the plumptitudinous qualm, and the crazy chachalca, (coquericot,) besides innumerable quails—all fitting food for omnivorous man, but so seldom disturbed as not to recognize him as their most dangerous enemy. Then night and morning the air was filled with deafening parrots, noisy macaws, and quick-darting, chattering paroquets.
I rose early every day, and with my gun in my hand, strayed far over the savannah, inhaling the freshness of the morning air, and shooting such game as looked fat, tender, and otherwise acceptable to my now fastidious appetite. The curassow, (calledcossuby the Mosquitos,) is one of the finest birds in the world. It is about the size of the turkey, but has stronger and longer legs. The plumage is dark brown or black, ash-colored about the neck, and of a reddish brown on the breast. On its head it has a crest of white feathers tipped with black, which it raises and depresses at pleasure. The flesh is whiter than that of a turkey, but rather dry, requiring a different mode of cooking than is practiced in the woods, to bring out its qualities in perfection. It is easily tamed, as are also thequalmandchachalaca. The latter, when old, is tough, but when young, its flesh cannot be surpassed for delicacy and flavor.
The animal called the Indian rabbit is very numerous, and is a variety of what, in South America,is called theagouti. It is about the size of a rabbit: body plump; snout long, and rather sharp; nose divided at the tip, and upper jaw longer than the lower; hind legs longer than the anterior ones, and furnished with but three toes; tail short, and scarcely visible, while its body is covered with a hard, shining, reddish-brown hair, freckled with dark spots. It lives upon vegetables, holds its food in eating, like a squirrel, and has a vicious propensity for biting and gnawing whatever it comes near. For this reason it is a nuisance in the neighborhood of plantations, and, as it multiplies rapidly, it is about the only animal which is hunted systematically by the Indians. Its flesh is only passable.
Thegibeonite(cavia-paca), sometimes calledpig-rabbit, closely resembles the guinea-pig, but is something larger. The head is round; the muzzle short and black; the upper jaw longer than the lower; the lip divided, like that of a hare; the nostrils large, and the whiskers long; eyes brown, large, and prominent; ears short and naked; neck thick; body very plump, larger behind than before, and covered with coarse, short hair, of a dusky brown color, deepest on the back; the throat, breast, inside of the limbs, and belly dingy white; and on each side of the body are five rows of dark spots, placed close to each other. The legs are short, the feet have five toes, with strong nails, and the tail is a simple conic projection. Its flesh is peculiarly juicy and rich, and, baked in the ground, the animal makes a dish for an epicure. Ibelieve I did not let a day pass without having a bakedgibeonite.
Among the Indians of the village, the eggs and flesh of the river turtle were favorite articles of food; and in constantly using them, I thought they evinced a proper appreciation of what is good. There are two varieties of these turtles, one calledbocatoro(Mosquitochouswat), and the otherhecatee. The latter is seldom more than eighteen inches long, but its shell is very deep. We cooked them by simply separating the lower shell, taking out the entrails, and stuffing the cavity with cassava, pieces of plantain, manitee fat, and various condiments, then wrapping it in plantain leaves, as I have described, and turning it back down, baking it in the ground. It always required a good bed of coals to cook it properly, but when rightly done, the result was a meal preëminently savory and palatable. The Indian boys brought, literally, bushels of the eggs of these turtles from the bars and sand-spits of the river and lagoon. These are very delicate when entirely fresh.