Up the Amazon and Madeira rivers, through Bolivia and Peru

by Edward D. Mathews

Start from Trinidad with convoy of nine canoes—Hacienda de San Antonio—Shifting of the river’s course—The river Securé—Bella Vista, the port of Loreto—Siriono savages—State and ceremony in preparation of meals—Excellent character of Bolivian chocolate—Junction of the river Grande—River Piray—The Mamoré left, and the Chapari entered—The Chimoré route to Coni preferable to that of the Chapari—Class of steamers suitable for the upper Mamoré—Difficulties of navigation in the Chapari—Scarcity of game—Number of Indians available in Trinidad for navigation of the upper rivers—The raya fish—Jaguars—Mountain ranges approached—Bamboo trees seen—The river Coni.

When one is dependent upon Bolivian Indians for means of locomotion, it is impossible to secure punctuality in starting, and although the men were ordered for the 15th of the month (July, 1874), it was the 19th before they were ready. The 16th was the feast of the “Virgen del Carmen,” and of course the men could not leave on the eve of a holy festival; which being over, they required a couple of days at least to sleep off the effects of the heavy drinking which seems to be the sole end and aim of these frequently recurring “dias de fiesta.”

On the 19th, my canoe, a light one, joined a convoy of nine, with an aggregate number of 100 Indians in the crews, that then left Trinidad for the port of Cochabamba, at the head of the river Coni, which falls into the Chapari, one of the principal affluents of the river Mamoré. All these canoes were laden with cocoa in the bean, or “pepita” as it is called, a few tiger skins and tamarinds being the only other articles that were taken up for sale in the interior of Bolivia.

Canoes ascending the Mamoré from Trinidad do not have to return by the river Ybari, as there is a lagoon, about a league from the town, from which a creek, or “curiche,” gives egress to the principal river, which above Trinidad still preserves a bold and wide course, with free facilities for navigation, and has many plantations and sugar estates on its banks.

The first night we bivouacked on the Mamoré, a short distance only above the junction of the creek just mentioned, and on the 20th we made good progress, as the light canoes, or “montarias,” travel rapidly. In the afternoon we stopped for a couple of hours at the “trapiche” of Don Mariano Vargas, the “Intendente” of Police for Trinidad. This gentleman, a native of Cochabamba, or a “Colla,” as those born in the hilly interior of Bolivia are termed by the Bolivians of the plains of the Beni, treated us very hospitably, and showed me great kindness, supplying me gratis with a new rudder for my canoe, which, after starting from Trinidad, had proved too small for its work. The sugar-cane plantations (“cañaverales”) on this estate were of considerable extent, and there were also large tobacco, coffee, and cocoa plantations.

The river hereabouts, as elsewhere above Exaltacion, appears to be continually changing its course, for behind Don Mariano’s establishment is a channel, now dry, that has evidently been the course in past years, and the river again shows signs at this point of making back for its old track. The want of any knowledge amongst the settlers as to how to keep the river within bounds must at times lead to serious losses. Although the river overflows its banks frequently on this part of its course, there is no doubt that rough groynes run at an angle, covering the weak places, so as to prevent the banks being destroyed and falling, would tend to keep the river more in one course; for behind the groynes silt would soon be deposited, and the bank would not be exposed to so much scour, as the force of the stream would be diverted more into mid-channel.

We left Don Mariano’s about 5 p.m., and at nightfall stopped at a sand playa after an hour and a half’s good work, and, having had a quiet night, started again on the 21st, at daybreak. The climate on this part of the river seems to be excellent, and the temperatures, I noted, in the shade of my cabin, which was covered with palm leaves and a bullock’s hide, varied from 62° Fahr. at night to 88° at mid-day. We passed some large lagoons on the right bank of the river, and on the left bank saw the mouth of the river Securé, on the sandbar of which were congregated together a larger number of alligators, basking in the sun, than I saw on any other part of the Mamoré. It was no use shooting any of them, as we had plenty of beef in the canoes, and although the Indians are very glad to eat cayman flesh when amongst the rapids, they scorn the idea when in their own country of the Beni, where the term “cayman-eater” (“come caiman”) is a common term of abuse in their villages. The river Securé has its rise in the mountains of the northern part of the province of Cochabamba, and though broad and wide for a great portion of its course, is very shallow, and entirely unnavigable from the driftwood and timber collected therein. An expedition, sent up by the Prefect of the Beni from Trinidad, shortly before my arrival there, returned with the only result of the impracticability for any kind of navigation. At mid-day we stopped on the right bank, at the mouth of a small but rapid stream running through mudbanks, where it was expected that we should be able to get some plantains and yams, etc.; but the banks were too soft to enable us to go to the chacos close by, belonging to the villagers of Loreto, and the stream was too shallow for the canoes. About 4 p.m. we got to Bella Vista, the port of Loreto, where we stayed while Don Bello went about a quarter of a mile inland to a hacienda, for some tamarinds to add to his merchandise for Cochabamba. Here is a trapiche, and many large and well-kept cane-fields and plantations, but the land is much cut up by old river-courses, called “madres,” or mothers, and must be almost entirely inundated in exceptionally high floods, such as those caused by the rains of 1872 and 1873, which were two very wet years. The town of Loreto is about a couple of leagues from the river, and is inhabited by Indians of the Trinitario family. As we were leaving, one Señor Nasario Buitraga came down the river from Cochabamba and the river Chapari, his arrival delaying us till nightfall, as Don Bello and he had some little business and a great deal of talk to get through. Buitraga’s account of the state of politics in Bolivia was not very encouraging to the prospects of my journey, as there was fear of a coup d’état by President Frias and his party, who, being in a minority, were supposed to entertain the idea of dismissing the Congress forcibly, as they had the troops at their disposal. Chatting over these things with Buitraga detained us till 7.30 p.m., when the men were ordered to their paddles, and the journey was continued until midnight, when a suitable resting-place was found on a playa.

The next two days, the 22nd and 23rd, had nothing of importance worthy record, except that we made good progress, the journey being continued steadfastly and pleasantly. Above Bella Vista, it is said that the right bank is subject to visitation by the Siriono savages, a fierce and thoroughly intractable tribe, that infest the banks of the river Piray. It is, therefore, advisable for canoes to keep on the left bank, on which, a short distance in the interior, are plantations of cocoa belonging to the Government. On this part of the river I had frequent opportunities of adding something fresh to the supper-table, either in the way of a duck or pava, or perhaps a stork that had fallen to a long shot from my Winchester. Remembering these suppers brings vividly to my mind the amount of state that a Bolivian patron observes at his meals when en voyage. Immediately the canoes touch land, whether for the mid-day or for the evening meal, the first thing the captain of the crews must see to is to put on some of his men to clear a space in the bush for the patron; then, while others seek dry firewood, some are despatched to the canoes for the patron’s camp-table, chair, and hammock, in which last luxurious resting-place, swinging from tree to tree, the patron smokes the everlasting “cigarito de maiz” (cigarette rolled in husks of the Indian corn), whilst his body-servant prepares the repast. Then, while the cooking goes on, the camp-table is covered with a small cloth, the cleanliness of which does not appear to be so much an object as that it should have as much embroidery or lace attached to it as possible. In fact, I have seen many table-cloths, with about a square yard of cloth in the centre, having from two to three feet of embroidery on every side. Next, the much-coveted deep silver dish that every Bolivian of any pretensions to decency must have, even though he has not a clean shirt in his portmanteau, is produced and placed in due state on the embroidered cloth. This dish, or “fuente,” as it is termed, having been filled with “chupe” (a kind of watery stew, composed of whatever meat or fish is in the larder for the day, with rice, onions, garlic, “ahi,” or strong chillies, and any vegetable added), a plateful of farinha is also placed on the table, together with as many different kinds of bread or biscuit as possible; and the patron, guests, and confidential dependents having taken their seats, all state and ceremony is at an end, for each one being armed with a spoon, a simultaneous attack upon the silver fuente, or fount, is at once commenced, and he who is most dexterous with his weapon secures not only the major portion of the savoury mess, but, if he be a successful fisher, the most solid and substantial morsels.

The meal is not, however, considered complete without a cup of chocolate, made from the excellent cocoa growing on the banks of the Mamoré River, near Exaltacion and Trinidad. This chocolate is, in my opinion, quite equal, if not superior, to the well-known Maravilla or Caracas cocoa, so largely sold at the present day, and may be exported in large quantities from Bolivia when the railway of the rapids is complete. At present each trader to Pará takes a full cargo of cocoa in hide seroons, a ready sale being sure to be met with there, as the quality is so much superior to that grown in Brazil itself.

On the 24th, the sixth day after leaving Trinidad, we arrived at the “Junta de los Rios,” being the junction of the Rio Grande with the Mamoré. The Rio Grande takes its rise on the southern slopes of the mountains near the town of Cochabamba, from whence it flows in a southerly direction until it is turned towards the west by the mountains near Sucre, when it takes a magnificent curve round to the north, and flows on to join the Mamoré; and although it has the longest course of the rivers of Bolivia, it is so shallow that it is quite useless for purposes of navigation. Although the whole of its course is laid down on most maps, I should be inclined to think that probably it has never been fully explored, for the Siriono savages have made their last stand in the strip of land through which it flows, between the Piray and the Itonama or Magdalena.