Up the Amazon and Madeira rivers, through Bolivia and Peru

by Edward D. Mathews

The next morning, the 12th, we started early, and tried to go up the river Trés Irmãos to the malocal of the Pacaguaras, but were unable to go so far for fear of being separated from the other canoes. The river near its junction with the Madeira is about 200 yards in width, is very deep, and is very abundantly stocked with fish; indeed, all the rivers and ravines that debouch into the big river amongst the rapids are full of fish at the junction, as it would seem that the fish like to frequent the quieter waters there met with. While we were breakfasting at a small clearing about a mile or so above the rapid, three of the Pacaguaras came up with a quantity of fine fresh maize, but no yucas or plantains; and they made us understand by signs, and pointing to the sun, that they had not had time to go to their clearing, where the plantains and yucas were growing. We bought the maize from them by barter, giving them an axe, a machete, or cutlass, and some fish-hooks in exchange; and I also obtained a couple of sets of the capybara teeth that they use as ear ornaments, for they can hardly be called ear-rings, as they are stuck behind the ear by a small piece of wax. I presented the Capitan Mariano with an accordion, with which he seemed highly pleased, and they parted from us evidently very contented with our treatment of them.

Up to the present time I had but little chance of shooting, but nevertheless generally managed to get a shot at a pava or a mareca while the canoe was en route, although, as I was always behind the other canoes, I only got other people’s leavings, in stray birds that had escaped discovery, or that had returned to the river bank, possibly thinking that all the canoes had passed. To-day, however, I was fortunate enough to bag a “mutun,” or wild turkey, a very handsome black bird, with a bright yellow horn-shaped wattle over his beak. He had a fine fleshy breast, and made us a capital supper. One of my best men, a Canichana Indian, was down to-day with a very bad attack of ague fever.

CHAPTER XI.

San Louise—Track across the big bend of the river—Corrientes and Remansos—The rapid of Paredão—Violence of one of the Indian boatmen during a fit—The rapids of Pederneira—La Cruz—Probability that the country is level in the interior on the right bank of the river—As Penhas Coloradas.

On the 13th, we started at daybreak, and passed the hut called “San Louise” about 8 a.m. From this hut the track cut by the railway engineers turns inland, and crosses the big bend of the river, coming out again at the hut called “La Cruz,” near the rapid of Araras. From 8.30 to 9.30 a.m. we were roping through currents below the rapid of Paredão, so called from the wall-like appearance of the rocks, that break up the fall into several channels of broken water that one sees glistening about half a league before getting up to them. The approach to Paredão for the whole of this half-league is about the worst we have yet encountered. We came up on the right bank, and had to encounter a constant succession of “corrientes” and “remansos;” this latter being a return current that in many places, especially bays, runs up stream inshore with great force, until, meeting the down current at some projecting point, it again takes the downward course. The remansos hereabouts are particularly dangerous, for the river bank is sheer rock, and the current drives the canoe with such force towards the rocks, that it would certainly break in pieces with the shock if it were allowed to strike. More by good luck than by good judgment, we escaped the danger, although once or twice we were running great risk; once in the remanso, and once in a great “rebujo,” or boiling up of the water, which probably takes place over a sunken rock. Arriving at the foot of the fall, we made fast for the night. There was a slight wave on from the cachuela; but, as we were moored against a mudbank, it did not do us any damage. We had to put off the unloading till next day, as the creek up which the canoes have to be pulled for this purpose is so narrow that only one boat at a time can be got up it. The cachuela is one of the prettiest yet passed, being broken up with large islands and rocks into three channels, up the eastern one of which we are to pass.

The next morning, the 14th, we were occupied till about eleven o’clock in getting our canoes over the fall, and reloaded again at the upper side. From the top of a rock I superintended the hauling up of my canoe over the projecting corner of a miniature promontory, and was surprised to see the immense amount of strain on the rope, although the canoe was being pulled through water; and I looked on with some fear and trembling, not only on this occasion, but always when I saw my only means of locomotion dependent entirely upon the holding together of a few strands of hemp, and my ropes were unfortunately of very inferior quality, and far from new. To-day, two of my men were ill, the one with fever and the other with an epileptic fit. So violent was this poor young fellow in his throes, that we had to tie him tightly with cords, or he would not only have done himself some injury, but would probably have ill-treated some of the other men. I never before saw such a curious case; for the sufferer, a young man of about eighteen or twenty, did not seem to lose consciousness, although he refused to answer, or even to speak, but ground his teeth, and, foaming at the mouth, would seize a stick or paddle, and, rushing at those nearest to him, would scatter them far and wide. He put me very much in mind of what I had often heard of in India, but fortunately had never seen—a mad Mussulman running amuck in a Hindoo bazaar. We managed, with difficulty, to get a lasso over our madman, and then to tie him securely, and in about a couple of hours he came to his senses, but was not thoroughly well for at least a week after the attack. We paddled on through quiet water all the afternoon until, about 5 p.m., we made fast about a league below the next cachuela, called Pederneira.

On the 15th we started in good time, and by 7.15 a.m. were at the Pederneira Falls, which we passed in three ropes’ lengths. The river was much broken in centre, and the waves were rather high; but on the right side there was no other difficulty than that caused by a strong current. It is said that, at low water, this rapid is a bad one, and I could see that there are many rocks below the level of water to-day. The country hereabouts appears to be level on both sides of the river, and is consequently uninteresting. At 2 p.m. we came to some islands, and a rapid that has not had a name given to it. At low water it is said to disappear altogether; but to-day it looks quite as formidable as Trés Irmãos or Pederneira. We crossed the river below the islands, and had some tough pulling to avoid being drawn into a current and on to rocks near the left bank, getting successfully across about 100 yards above the dreaded dangers, and, keeping on up the river-side, came shortly to some rocky points and strong currents. Here one of the Bolivian patrons sent the small canoe and four men to give me some help, which was very acceptable, as my men were almost knocked up after a hard and long day’s work; and we got to the sleeping-place by about seven o’clock.

Next morning, the 16th, we started very early, probably before 3 a.m., and at daybreak crossed over to the right bank. The mornings have generally been foggy and cloudy for the last few days, and this, together with the slight attacks of fever that I suffered from at Calderão and Girão, entirely prevented my endeavouring to fix positions by observations; and, besides, I dare not stay behind the other canoes, or I should be left to get over the upper rapids with my weak crew, and probably break down at Ribeirão, where the land portage is very steep. This morning, the pavas were very abundant. I got a couple before breakfast; several others that were wounded got away into the bush, and there was no time to look for them. At 3 p.m. we passed by some high banks of rock and red earth on the right bank, cut down straight by the river. One big lump from them has fallen down into the river, and forms a conspicuous landmark, in the distance looking like a large canoe. In the evening I got three more pavas, and one of my men got a very fine “perdrix,” as they call it, although to me it appeared more like a jungle fowl. It had a most wonderfully fleshy breast, and was as tender as a young chicken; so we were excellently well off for fresh meat to-day.

The 17th we made another early start, and passed the hut called “La Cruz” about 7 a.m. At this spot the track cut by the engineers of the railway across the big bend of the river comes out again, the distance between the two huts of San Louise and La Cruz being about eighteen miles. The whole of this distance was described to me as perfectly level and dry, by several of the Indians who had accompanied the engineers and Señor Ignacio Arauz, the Bolivian patron who furnished the peons for the work, and to whose energy and perseverance the successful cutting of the track alongside the rapids was mainly due. I had in my canoe a very intelligent Bolivian, of rather a superior class, who had been one of the “mayordomos,” or foremen, under Señor Arauz, and this man assured me that from the track over the big bend, looking eastwards, no sign of hills could be seen, but only a vast undulating plain covered with low scrub or brushwood. Señor Arauz has also assured me that there are no hills to be seen; and a short walk inland, together with all the evidence that I could collect leads me to the belief that a cut across the interior, entirely avoiding the greater bends of the River, say from the Trés Irmãos River to the Ribeirão Falls, would not only shorten the length of the line of railway, but would locate it where the smallest amount of earthwork and bridging would be met with.