On September 30th, just a month after we had left Barra, we again saw the opposite side of the river, and crossed over where it is about four miles wide. The next day we reached a part where the granitic rocks commence, and I was delighted to step out of the canoe on to a fine sloping table of granite, with quartz-veins running across it in various directions. From this point the river became more picturesque. Small rocky islands abounded, and fine granite beaches were frequent, offering delightful places to take our picnic meals. Fish too became yet more abundant, and we were seldom without this luxury.
On the 3rd of October we reached a sitio, where resided a half-breed Brazilian named João Cordeiro (John Lamb), who was a friend of Senhor L. as well as a customer. We staid here two days, while a good part of the cargo of the canoe was taken out, for Senhor João to choose what he liked best. Here, for the second time since we left Barra, we saw a few cows, and had milk to our coffee. I amused myself by walking in the forest and catching some insects, of which I found many new species. At length, the gay cottons and gauzes, the beads and cutlery, wines and spirits, sugar and butter, having been selected, we went on our way, Senhor João promising to get plenty of piassaba, salsa, and other products, ready to pay Senhor L. by the time he next sent to the city.
The following day we reached St. Isabel, a miserable village overgrown with weeds and thickets, and having at this time but a single inhabitant, a Portuguese, with whom we took a cup of coffee, sweetening it however with our own sugar, as he had no such luxury. He was one of the many decent sort of men who drag on a miserable existence here, putting up with hardships and deprivations which in a civilized community would be only the result of the most utter poverty.
On the 8th we reached Castanheiro, and staid a day with another Portuguese, one of the richest traders on the river. He owed his wealth principally to having steadily refused to take goods on credit, which is the curse of this country: he thus was always his own master, instead of being the slave of the Barra and Pará merchants, and could buy in the cheapest and sell in the dearest market. With economy and a character for closeness, he had accumulated some five or six thousand pounds, which went on rapidly increasing, as in this country living costs a man nothing, unless he drinks or gambles. He trades with the Indians, takes the product in his own canoe to Pará, buys the articles he knows are most saleable, and gets a profit of about a hundred per cent. on all the business he does. It may give some insight into the state of this country to know that, though this man is distinguished from almost all other traders by his strict integrity and fairness, which all allow, yet he is seldom spoken well of, because he does not enter into the extravagance and debauchery which it is thought he can well afford.
A little further on we passed some more curious Indian picture-writings on a granite rock, of which I took a sketch. On the 11th we reached Wanawacá, the seat of a Brazilian from Pernambuco, banished to the Rio Negro for joining in some insurrection. I had heard the most horrible stories of this man’s crimes. He had murdered the Indians, carried away their wives and daughters, and committed barbarities that are too disgusting to mention. Yet, as I had a letter of introduction to him, and he was a friend of Senhor L., we went to call upon him. I found him a mild, quiet, polite, white-haired old gentleman, who received us with great civility, gave us a very good breakfast, and conversed in an unusually rational manner. When we had gone, Senhor L. asked me if I was not surprised to see such a mild-looking man. “But,” said he, “these soft-spoken ones are always the worst. He is a regular hypocrite, and he will stick at nothing. Among his friends he will boast of his crimes, and he declares there is nothing that he will not do for his own pleasure or profit.”
The next day we staid at another village, São Jozé, where we were to leave our little vessel, and proceed in two smaller ones, as the stream was now so rapid that we could not make much way, and the Falls a little higher up were quite impassable for our large canoe. Here we staid two days, unloading and loading. I found plenty to do capturing the butterflies, several rare species of which were abundant on the hot rocks by the river’s side. At length all was right, and we proceeded on our way in two heavily-laden canoes, and rather cramped for room compared to what we had been before. We had several little rapids to pass, round projecting points of rock, where the Indians had to jump into the water and push the canoe past the difficulty. In two days more we reached the village of São Pedro, where Senhor L. borrowed another canoe, much better and more convenient, so that we had again half a day’s delay. The owner was a young Brazilian trader, a very hospitable and civil fellow, with whom we spent a pleasant evening. He and Senhor L. were old cronies, and began talking in a language I could not understand, though I knew it was some kind of Portuguese. I soon however found out what it was, and Senhor L. afterwards told me that he had learnt it when a boy at school. It consisted in adding to every syllable another, rhyming with it, but beginning with p; thus to say, “Venha ca” (come here), he would say “Venpenhapa capa,” or if in English “Comepum herepere;” and this, when spoken rapidly, is quite unintelligible to a person not used to it. This Senhor was a bit of a musician, and amused us with some simple tunes on the guitar, almost the only instrument used in this part of the country.
Leaving this place, we passed the mouth of the small river Curicuriarí, from which we had a fine view of the Serras of the same name. These are the finest mountains I had yet seen, being irregular conical masses of granite about three thousand feet high. They are much jagged and peaked, clothed with forest in all the sloping parts, but with numerous bare precipices, on which shine huge white veins and masses of quartz, putting me in mind of what must be the appearance of the snow-capped Andes. Lower down, near St. Isabel, we had passed several conical peaks, but none more than a thousand feet high: these all rise abruptly from a perfectly level plain, and are not part of any connected range of hills.
On the same day, the 19th of October, we reached the celebrated Falls of the Rio Negro. Small rocky islands and masses of bare rock now began to fill the river in every part. The stream flowed rapidly round projecting points, and the main channel was full of foam and eddies. We soon arrived at the commencement of the actual rapids. Beds and ledges of rock spread all across the river, while through the openings between them the water rushed with terrific violence, forming dangerous whirlpools and breakers below. Here it was necessary to cross to the other side, in order to get up. We dashed into the current, were rapidly carried down, got among the boiling waves, then passed suddenly into still water under shelter of an island; whence starting again, we at length reached the other side, about a mile across. Here we found ourselves at the foot of a great rush of water, and we all got out upon the rocks, while the Indians, with a strong rope, partly in the water, and partly on land, pulled the canoe up, and we again proceeded. As we went on we constantly encountered fresh difficulties. Sometimes we had to cross into the middle of the stream, to avoid some impassable mass of rocks; at others, the canoe was dragged and pushed in narrow channels, which hardly allowed it to pass. The Indians, all naked, with their trowsers tied round their loins, plunged about in the water like fishes. Sometimes a projecting crag had to be reached with the tow-rope. An Indian takes it in his hand, and leaps into the rapid current: he is carried down by its irresistible force. Now he dives to the bottom, and there swims and crawls along, where the stream has less power. After two or three trials, he reaches the rock, and tries to mount upon it; but it rises high and abruptly out of the water, and after several efforts he falls back exhausted, and floats down again to the canoe amid the mirth and laughter of his comrades. Another now tries, with the same result. Then another plunges in without the rope, and thus unencumbered mounts on the rock and gives a helping hand to his companion; and then all go to work, and we are pulled up past the obstacle.
But a little ahead of us is an extensive mass of rocks. There is no passage for the canoe, and we must cross to yonder islet far in the middle of the stream, where, by the height of the water, Senhor L. and the pilot judge we shall find a passage. Every stone, even those under water, form eddies or returning currents, where a canoe can rest in its passage. Off we go, to try to reach one of them. In a moment we are in a stream running like a mill-race: “Pull away, boys!” shouts Senhor L. We are falling swiftly down the river. There is a strong rapid carrying us, and we shall be dashed against those black masses just rising above the foaming waters. “All right, boys!” cries Senhor L.; and just as we seemed in the greatest danger, the canoe wheels round in an eddy, and we are safe under the shelter of a rock. We are in still water, but close on each side of us it rages and bubbles, and we must cross again. Now the Indians are rested; and so off we go,—down drops the canoe,—again the men strain at their paddles,—again we are close on some foaming breakers: I see no escape, but in a moment we are in an eddy caused by a sunken mass above us; again we go on, and reach at length our object, a rocky island, round which we pull and push our canoe, and from the upper point cross to another, and so make a zigzag course, until, after some hours’ hard work, we at length reach the bank, perhaps not fifty yards above the obstacle which had obliged us to leave it.
Thus we proceeded, till, reaching a good resting-place about five in the afternoon, we staid for the night, to rest the Indians well, against the further fatigues to be encountered the following day.