Travels on the Amazon

by Alfred Russel Wallace

I here finished stuffing my Jacaré, and was obliged to borrow a drill to make the holes to sew up the skin. I had no box to put it in, and no room for it in the canoe, so I tied it on a board, and had a palm-leaf mat made to cover it from rain, on the top of the tolda. Senhor João told us to visit his "cacoarie," or fish-weir, on our way down, and take what we found in it. We did so, and of fish only got one,—a curious mailed species, quite new to me, and which gave me an afternoon's work to figure and describe. There were also five small red-headed turtles, which were very acceptable, and furnished us with dinner for several days.

We proceeded pleasantly on our voyage, sometimes with rain and sometimes with sunshine, and often obliged to make a supper of farinha and water, on account of there being no land on which to make a fire; but to all these inconveniences I was by this time well inured, and thought nothing of what, a year before, was a very great hardship. At the different sitios where I called, I often received orders for Barra; for everybody whom I had once seen was, on a second encounter, an old friend, and would take a friend's privilege. One requested me to bring him a pot of turtle oil,—another, a garafão of wine; the Delegarde wanted a couple of cats, and his clerk a couple of ivory small-tooth combs; another required gimlets, and another, again, a guitar. For all these articles I received not a vintem of payment, but was promised the money certain on my return, or an equivalent in coffee or tobacco, or some other article current in the Rio Negro. To many persons, with whom I had never spoken, I was nevertheless well known, and addressed by name; and these would often hint that such and such an article they were much in want of, and, without directly requesting me to get it for them, would intimate that if I should bring it, they would be happy to purchase it of me.

The only live animals I had with me were a couple of parrots, which were a never-failing source of amusement. One was a little "Marianna," or Macaí of the Indians, a small black-headed, white-breasted, orange-neck and thighed parrot; the other, an Anacá, a most beautiful bird, banded on the breast and belly with blue and red, and the back of the neck and head covered with long bright red feathers margined with blue, which it would elevate when angry, forming a handsome crest somewhat similar to that of the harpy eagle; its ornithological name is Derotypus accipitrinus, the hawk-headed parrot. There was a remarkable difference in the characters of these birds. The Anacá was of a rather solemn, morose, and irritable disposition; while the Mariánna was a lively little creature, inquisitive as a monkey, and playful as a kitten. It was never quiet, running over the whole canoe, climbing into every crack and cranny, diving into all the baskets, pans, and pots it could discover, and tasting everything they contained. It was a most omnivorous feeder, eating rice, farinha, every kind of fruit, fish, meat, and vegetable, and drinking coffee too as well as myself; and as soon as it saw me with basin in hand, would climb up to the edge, and not be quiet without having a share, which it would lick up with the greatest satisfaction, stopping now and then, and looking knowingly round, as much as to say, "This coffee is very good," and then sipping again with increased gusto. The bird evidently liked the true flavour of the coffee, and not that of the sugar, for it would climb up to the edge of the coffee-pot, and hanging on the rim plunge boldly down till only its little tail appeared above, and then drink the coffee-grounds for five minutes together. The Indians in the canoe delighted to imitate its pretty clear whistle, making it reply and stare about, in a vain search after its companions. Whenever we landed to cook, the Marianna was one of the first on shore,—not with any view to an escape, but merely to climb up some bush or tree and whistle enjoyment of its elevated position, for as soon as eating commenced, it came down for a share of fish or coffee. The more sober Anacá would generally remain quietly in the canoe, till, lured by the cries and whistles of its lively little companion, it would venture out to join it; for, notwithstanding their difference of disposition, they were great friends, and would sit for hours side by side, scratching each other's heads, or playing together just like a cat and a kitten; the Marianna sometimes so exasperating the Anacá by scratches and peckings, and by jumping down upon it, that a regular fight would ensue, which, however, soon terminated, when they would return to their former state of brotherhood. I intended them as presents to two friends in Barra, but was almost sorry to part them.

On the 15th of September, exactly a fortnight after leaving São Joaquim, we arrived safely at Barra. The whitened houses and open situation of the city appeared quite charming, after being so long accustomed to the mud-walled, forest-buried villages of Rio Negro. I found that my friend Mr. Spruce was in the city, being a prisoner there, as I had been at Guia, for want of men. He occupied a house, made classic to the Naturalist by having been the abode of Dr. Natterer, where he kindly accommodated me during my stay, which I intended should be as short as possible.

Bad news was awaiting me from Pará. Letters, dated more than three months back, from my correspondent, Mr. Miller, informed me of the dangerous illness of my brother, who had been attacked by yellow fever; and when the canoe left, which brought the letter, was exhibiting such symptoms as left little hope of his recovery. The only additional information brought since, was that the Princess Victoria, with a valuable cargo, had been lost entering Pará; and that the consequent excitement and anxiety of Mr. Miller, had led to an attack of brain fever, which had terminated in his death. From no one could I obtain a word of information about my brother, and so remained in a state of the greatest suspense. Had he recovered, he would himself, of course, have written; but, on the other hand, it was strange that none of the English residents in Pará had sent me a line to inform me of his death, had it occurred.

I was a fortnight in Barra, busily occupied buying and selling, and arranging and packing my miscellaneous collections. I had to make insect-boxes and packing-cases, the only carpenter in the place having taken it into his head to leave a good business, and, like everybody else, go trading about the rivers.

In the evening, and at all spare moments, we luxuriated in the enjoyments of rational conversation,—to me, at least, the greatest, and here the rarest of pleasures. Mr. Spruce, as well as myself, much wished that we could ascend together; but my canoe was too small to accommodate us both, and my men were too few for his, loaded, as it would be, with our combined cargoes. No men were to be obtained at Barra for love or money. Even the authorities, when they require to make some journey on official business, are obliged, frequently, to beg men of Senhor Henrique or some other negociante. To such a state is this fine country reduced by Brazilian misrule and immorality!

Just as I was about to start, the Subdelegarde sent to inform me I must take a passport, an annoyance I had quite forgotten. However, there was no remedy, as the clerk does not like to lose his fee of a "crusado." I had first to get paper stamped (and the Stamp-office was not open), and then to go the other end of the city to where the clerk lived, to get the passport. As everything was on board and all ready, this was a great bore, and Senhor Henrique advised me to go without a passport, and he would send it after me. As I knew the Subdelegarde would not send after me to fetch me back, I took his advice and started. Mr. Spruce came with me for a day's trip, taking a couple of boys and a montaría to return in. We had a fine wind, which took us across the great bays above Barra; and about four in the afternoon we landed on a sandy beach, near which were a couple of cottages. Here Mr. S. found some handsome new flowering shrubs and trees, and I obtained five specimens of a small fish, a pacú new to me, so we both had work till supper-time; after which meal we hung our redes under the bushes as we best could, and passed an agreeable night. The next morning we bade each other farewell; Mr. S. returning to Barra, and I pursuing my voyage up the river. On arriving at a sitio, where I had on the way down left my montaría in order that it might not be stolen in Barra, I found my precaution had been of no avail, as it had been stolen a few days before by an Indian of the Rio Branco. He had had his own canoe taken from him near that place, by a man going to the Solimões, who tried to compel the owner to go also, and so, in self-defence, the Indian took mine to pursue his journey. I had no remedy, so we went on, trusting to buy a montaría somewhere shortly. We had several strong "trovoádos," which were rather dangerous, owing to my canoe being very much loaded. One came on with great violence from the other side of the river, raising tremendous waves, which would have driven us on shore and broken our boat all to pieces, had there not luckily been some bushes in the water, to which we fastened prow and poop, and remained tossing and rolling about more than an hour, baling out the water as fast as it came in, and in constant fear of shipping a sea that would send us to the bottom.

The same evening I overtook Frei Jozé, who was on a pastoral and trading visit to Pedreiro. We stayed at the same place to sleep, and I went to converse a little with him in his canoe, which was large and commodious. Our conversation turning on the prevalence of the small-pox in Pará, he related an anecdote of his own diplomatic powers with respect to that dreadful disease, on which he appeared to pride himself considerably.

"When I was in Bolivia," said he, "there were several nations of very warlike Indians, who plundered and murdered travellers on the way to St^a. Cruz. The President sent the soldiers after them, and spent much money in powder and ball, but with very little effect. The small-pox was in the city at the time, and the clothes of all who died of it were ordered to be burnt, to prevent infection. One day conversing with his Excellency about the Indians, I put him up to a much cheaper way than powder and ball for exterminating them. "Instead of burning the clothes," said I, "just order them to be put in the way of the Indians: they are sure to take possession of them, and they'll die off like wildfire." He followed my advice, and in a few months there was no more heard of the depredations of the Indians. Four or five nations were totally destroyed." "For," added he, "the bixiga plays the devil among the Indians." I could hardly help a shudder at this cool account of such a cold-blooded massacre, but said nothing, consoling myself with the idea that it was probably one of the ingenious fabrications of Frei Jozé's fertile brain; though it showed that he would look upon the reality as a very politic and laudable action.