They were all well-grown men, nearly naked, like myself, very placid in their demeanour, and showed great anxiety to relieve my distress, offering me food and drink. Indeed, their manners were so urbane and pleasing, that in a very short time I recovered from my depression of spirits, and congratulated myself on my good fortune in falling into their company. They wore large grass-platted hats to defend the head from the heat of the sun, and had each a hammock made of the same materials, which as night approached, they slung from the branches of trees, and calmly laid themselves down to survey the confusion of nature which the sudden inundation had occasioned.
With the party was a youth about my own age, who at once attached himself to me; he manifested his disappointment and concern that he could not make himself understood by words, and in a very short time intimated his intention of undertaking my education by showing me the implements in use and calling them by name, till I not only recollected them, but acquired accuracy of pronunciation.
The Indian village
Two days subsequently to my rescue from the tree, I was taken to the Indian village, about ten miles from the border of the forest. It consisted of fifteen huts on an elevated spot, distant a half-mile from a fine river, which ebbed and flowed with the tide. It was this circumstance that had occasioned my embarrassment when following the stream and suddenly meeting with a contrary current.
On my arrival at the village I was struck with the absence of curiosity or surprise which a stranger from another race generally excites, even in civilized localities. Neither men, women, or children appeared to bestow on me any peculiar notice, nor did they, as far as I could learn, express any desire to know how I came amongst them, or from whence I came. No overseer or other parish officer was called in to provide me with food and then dispute my right to eat. I was at once led to the hut of the father of my young friend, and received as one of the family, in which there were two wives and two families—one mother with three, and another with four children. Plurality of wives was the custom of this Indian community, and yet they lived in perfect harmony; there were no jealousies or bickerings; the progeny of each shared alike the affection and care of both mothers, who laboured with equal zeal in the culture of cassava or manioc, the roots of which they grated and made into bread.
There were numerous tribes of these Indians, but they all spoke the same language. The tribe I was with were called Galibis; they were remarkable alike for their humanity and intelligence. Indeed, they possessed all the moral qualities of civilized society, without its forms and most of its vices, especially the one of coveting their neighbours' goods.
Habits of the Indians
During the time I was with them, a period of eighteen months, I never heard of a charge of theft. Land was as plentiful as air and water; there could not, therefore, be any motive to steal, if we except idleness,—a vice which prevails more in cities than in the wilds of nature. Numerous families sometimes live in one common large hut; yet there are no quarrels to disturb their harmony; and such is their hospitality that he who is fatigued with hunting may always depend on repose in the nearest dwelling.
Their language is peculiarly harmonious, rich with synonyms, and is represented by those who have studied its grammatical construction, to be complicated and ingenious in syntax. Intelligent as they are, they have at all times rejected the arts and all instruction, from their great love of independence. The countenances of all are stereotyped with benevolence, and their conversation is fraught with maxims that inculcate the practice of charity to all the human race. They are not without a sense of pride, yet discourage it in practice. It requires no broker to make a written catalogue of their household furniture: their weapons are bows and arrows, and a short dart which they force through a reed with the breath, bringing down birds on the wing with surprising dexterity. A flat stone on which the women bake bread, and a rough one on which to grate the root of cassava; a hammock, a hatchet, a comb, and a broken piece of looking-glass in a rude frame, comprise the whole of their furniture. What few vessels they had were ill made,—not any improvement on those I formed from clay for the use of my aviary when in the woods.
They have no code of laws, nor have they a word in the language by which to convey the idea of laws; yet they have the same word as in Hebrew to express God, by which they understand supreme master. They have a magistrate or elder, to whom any matter of disputation is referred, and by him summarily and finally settled. Fire they obtain by rubbing two pieces of wood together; and for cooking, this is made on the ground, over which they suspend their vessels in the rudest manner. Although these people wear no clothes, properly so called, they are very fond of ornaments; as amulets and charms, those obtained from the ivory-billed woodpecker were most in vogue. No people in the world, perhaps, are more remarkable for acute observation. If you name any kind of bird, or other animal, to them, that is to be found in this part of the globe, instantly they imitate its action and tones of voice. The notes of birds they give with surprising accuracy. They are very expert swimmers, and some of the women and children spend the chief of their time in the water. The men fish, and hunt, and when not so employed, which happens three or four days in the week, they remain in their hammocks, and amuse themselves with their implements, in the repairs of which, and in conversation, all their leisure is spent. They possess all the qualities to form good sportsmen, and to take the command of others—having great presence of mind and promptitude of action. I know not which most to admire, their skill in discovering game, or their manner of taking it. They entertain the loftiest sentiments of chivalrous honour, and their courage always rises with increasing difficulty; it "smiles in danger stern and wild," and is superior to circumstances.