June 4th. The start was made at 1.30 a.m., and we kept up the left bank, the day being fine, and the sun not quite so hot as usual. I have paddled a good deal these last days, and this morning did so from 4.30 a.m. till 9.30, a fair stretch for one quite unaccustomed to such work; but I fancied that I helped the canoe along, for every extra paddle tells, and I got a spurt out of the men every now and again, by encouraging them with a timely “churka, churka!” My men were not in very good form, but what they would have been if, like the other crews, they had been obliged to be on short rations of farinha, charqui, and cachaça, I cannot conceive.
During the afternoon we passed a river coming in on the right or Brazilian bank, and then a long stretch of bank on the left side, falling into the river, causing a very strong current, with many trees sticking up, and greatly obstructing the navigation for canoes, which are always obliged to hug the shore. We got to the stopping-place, or “pascana,” by about 7 p.m., finding Don Miguel and Señor Morales encamped there; but Molina is still behind—in fact, we have not seen him since early morning. At nightfall we passed a large “playa,” or sandbank, on which there were a great many large cranes and other aquatic birds. We worked this day seventeen hours, as we only stopped half an hour for breakfast, the men eating cold otter and farinha. My bag to-day was four small cranes, which made a capital pot at night, and three pigeons, which I got at one shot, and with B B; these the boy roasted for cold luncheon to-morrow.
June 5th. The start was ordered at 1.30 a.m., a slight rain falling; we keep up the left bank, which appears to be the favourite one on this portion of the river, from the idea that the right or Brazilian side is a favourite hunting-ground of the savages. The river continues of a uniform width of about six or seven hundred yards, it being just a good shot for the Winchester rifle from one side to the other. Daybreak is generally a good time to get something for the pot, as one is able to get nearer to one’s game than one can during the day, and this morning I got one very fine black duck (pato royale), and a couple of trumpeters or Orinoco geese (marecas). We christened these ducks “trumpeters,” from the trumpeting noise they make as they fly low over the water, giving one plenty of notice of their approach, in time to pick up the gun and be ready for them.
The river navigation for steamers would be excellent, so far as the depth of water is concerned, but the cutting of the wood fuel would be rather a difficult point to manage. There is, of course, plenty of wood on either bank; but the fear of attacks from the savages will render the establishment of wood-cutting stations a difficult question. The proper way will be for the Brazilian and Bolivian Governments to act jointly, and set up armed stockades on alternate sides of the river, say at distances of fifty miles apart, each one to be garrisoned by about forty or fifty men, who could organize wood-cutting parties, the sale of the fuel going a good way towards the payment of the expenses. In this way the forest would get thinned, and the savages would either make terms or retire further into the interior. The tribe that infests the right or Brazilian side are called “Sirionos,” and those on the left or Bolivian bank are “Chacobos.” These latter, it is said, are sometimes friendly, and have traded with the villagers of Exaltacion; but the former are a fierce and warlike tribe, that refuse to enter into any converse whatever with either the civilized Indians of Bolivia, or with the “Carayanas,” as the Bolivians of Spanish extract are called.
We got up to the pascana for breakfast by about 11.30 a.m., and found that Don Miguel had kindly waited for us since about nine o’clock; however, we came up at the same time as the batelão did, so the delay was not altogether due to us. Knowing that Don Miguel was short of farinha, I asked him how many days we should be in arriving at the village of Exaltacion, so that I might see if I had any stores to spare, as it would be better to reduce my rations than arrive at the pueblos with surplus food, while the other canoes were short. Molina’s men are, I know, on very short commons; but, then, his canoes have stayed behind, so that I cannot share with them. Don Miguel calculated that we should be in Exaltacion by about the 14th, and that about a couple of days before that we should arrive at the “chacos,” or plantations, where we could purchase plantains and other bread stuffs; so, as I have five alquieres of farinha left, and we require one in two days, with full rations of one pound and a half per man daily, I could spare at least one alquiere, which I passed over to Don Miguel, with an arroba of good wheaten flour.
After continuing the journey up the right bank, which is still preferred, as being freer from visits from savages, we saw, about 5.30 p.m., that Don Miguel had crossed over, to avoid a small corriente running pretty strongly round a rocky point; but as I saw that Señor Morales had kept to the same bank, and had stopped for the night about a mile and a half ahead, I managed to rope round the rock, and joined Señor Morales by about 7 p.m., after having had some little trouble in finding our way in the dark round a “playa,” or sandbank.
On June the 6th we started at 2.45 a.m., and at daybreak saw an immense number of monkeys, pavas, and cranes, or “garças,” on the banks and in the overhanging trees; but we were unable to do any shooting, as this morning we had got rather too far behind the other canoes. In this portion of the river there appears to be a great lagoon, not far from the left bank, and the muddy banks of a small “igarapé,” or ravine, evidently running out of the lake were trodden up by the birds’ feet just like a poultry-yard. We did not get up to-day to the breakfast pascana until 2 p.m., as we had a very hard and long morning’s work, having had to cross the river several times to avoid strong running currents, and at one very large and shallow playa we had to pull with the rope, the men walking on the sandbank. We got up to the other canoes very late, and found that Don Miguel had very kindly waited for us as usual, and, to my disgust, I found that the batelão had arrived before us, having probably passed us before daybreak, or having started before us. I had to thank Don Miguel very much for having waited, as otherwise we should have paddled on without any breakfast; as it was, we were quite fagged and dismally hungry, having paddled for eleven hours without any stoppage. We could only give the men just time enough to cook and eat their chupe, and then off again after Don Miguel, who promised to stop at 4 p.m., so that we might get up to the sleeping-place in good time; but he must have gone much further than he intended, for it was 10 p.m. before we got up to him again. My men were much fagged, and it was too late for any cooking, so they had to put up with an extra ration of farinha and a “pinga” of cachaça, whilst my stand-by of sardines and farinha served me for a supper. To-day we paddled for eighteen hours, and it seemed that we were to have several days’ hard work such as this before we get to Exaltacion, for the “barbaros” are said to be very bold hereabouts in the vicinity of the junction of the Itenez, where we now are.