At the village I spent nearly a fortnight more, getting together a good many small birds, but nothing very rare. I shot a specimen of the curious bald-headed brown crow (Gymnocephalus calvus), which, though common in Cayenne, is very rare in the Rio Negro district; nobody, in fact, but the Indians, had ever seen the bird, and they regarded it as my greatest curiosity. I also skinned a black agouti, and made drawings of many curious fish.
The Padre having come to Guía, most of the Indians returned with me to attend the festa, and get their children baptized. When we arrived, however, we found that he had left for the villages higher up, and was to call on his return. I now wished to set off as soon as possible for the Upper Rio Negro, in Venezuela; but of course no Indian could be got to go with me till the Padre returned, and I was obliged to wait patiently and idly at Guía. For days I would go out into the forest, and not get a bird worth skinning; insects were equally scarce. The forest was gloomy, damp, and silent as death. Every other day was wet, and almost every afternoon there was a thunder-storm; and on these dull days and weary evenings, I had no resource but the oft-told tales of Senhor L., and the hackneyed conversation on buying and selling calico, on digging salsa, and cutting piassaba.
At length however the Padre, Frei Jozé, arrived with Senhor Tenente Filisberto, the Commandante of Marabitanas. Frei Jozé dos Santos Innocentos was a tall, thin, prematurely old man, thoroughly worn out by every kind of debauchery, his hands crippled, and his body ulcerated; yet he still delighted in recounting the feats of his youth, and was celebrated as the most original and amusing story-teller in the province of Pará. He was carried up the hill, from the river-side, in a hammock; and took a couple of days to rest, before he commenced his ecclesiastical operations. I often went with Senhor L. to visit him, and was always much amused with his inexhaustible fund of anecdotes: he seemed to know everybody and everything in the Province, and had always something humorous to tell about them. His stories were, most of them, disgustingly coarse; but so cleverly told, in such quaint and expressive language, and with such amusing imitations of voice and manner, that they were irresistibly ludicrous. There is always, too, a particular charm in hearing good anecdotes in a foreign language. The point is the more interesting, from the obscure method of arriving at it; and the knowledge you acquire of the various modes of using the peculiar idioms of the language, causes a pleasure quite distinct from that of the story itself. Frei Jozé never repeated a story twice, in the week he was with us; and Senhor L., who has known him for years, says he had never before heard many of the anecdotes he now related. He had been a soldier, then a friar in a convent, and afterwards a parish priest: he told tales of his convent life, just like what we read in Chaucer of their doings in his time. Don Juan was an innocent compared with Frei Jozé; but he told us he had a great respect for his cloth, and never did anything disreputable—during the day!
At length the baptisms took place: there were some fifteen or twenty Indian children of all ages, to undergo the operation at once. There are seven or eight distinct processes in the Roman Catholic baptism, well calculated to attract the attention of the Indians: there is water and holy oil,—and spittle rubbed on the eyes,—and crosses on the eyes, nose, mouth, and body,—and kneelings and prayers in between, which all bear sufficient resemblance to the complicated operations of their own “pagés” (conjurors), to make them think they have got something very good, in return for the shilling they pay for the ceremony.
The next day there were a few weddings, the ceremony of which is very like our own. After it was over, Frei Jozé gave the newly married people a very good and practical homily on the duties of the married state, which might have done some good, had the parties to whom it was addressed understood it; which, as it was in Portuguese, they did not. He at all times strenuously exhorted the Indians to get married, and thus save their souls,—and fill his pocket. The only two white men, besides myself, were however bad examples,—for they were not, nor would be married, though they both had large families; which the Padré got over by saying, “Never mind what these white people do, they will all go to purgatory, but don’t you be such fools as to go too!” at which Senhor L. and the Commandante laughed heartily, and the poor Indians looked much astonished.
CHAPTER IX.
JAVITA.
Leave Guía—Marabitánas—Serra de Cocoí—Enter Venezuela—São Carlos—Pass the Cassiquiare—Antonio Dias—Indian shipbuilders—Feather-work—Maróa and Pimichín—A black Jaguar—Poisonous serpents—Fishing—Walk to Javíta—Residence there—Indian road-makers—Language and customs—A description of Javíta—Runaway Indians—Collections at Javíta—Return to Tómo—A domestic broil—Marabitánas, and its inhabitants—Reach Guía.
When at length our visitors were gone, I commenced arrangements for my voyage further up the country.
Senhor L. lent me a canoe, and I had four Indians to go with me, only one of whom, an old man named Augustinho, could speak a little broken Portuguese. I took with me my watch, sextant, and compass, insect- and bird-boxes, gun and ammunition, with salt, beads, fish-hooks, calico, and coarse cotton cloth for the Indians. My men all had their gravatánas and quivers of poisoned arrows, a pair of trowsers, shirt, paddle, knife, tinder-box, and rede, which comprise the whole assortment of an Indian’s baggage.