AUTHOR, AND YURACARÉ INDIANS. (From a photograph taken at Cochabamba.)
The corregidor says that altogether there are about 500 or 600 men in the tribe, and they appear to be fairly under his orders. As I was travelling on public business and had taken charge of despatches for the Government at Chuquisaca from the prefect of the Beni, the corregidor offered me a guard of these Indians for the journey to Cochabamba, and appointed the cacique and five young Indians to accompany me. The cacique’s name was Gregorio Frias, and he seemed to have an idea that he was a relative of the then president of the republic, Don Tomas Frias; and perhaps he was not far wrong, as I was told that a few years ago a brother of his excellency lived in the district for some time, and had many of these Indians at work on his chaco and coffee plantations, some trees of which are still to be seen at the Coni, bearing excellent fruit. The other Indians were young men, named Juan Baptista, Amadeo, Carlos, Roman, and Donato, who were all pleasant-looking young fellows that I was glad to have as companions of my march to Cochabamba.
The Yuracarés have evidently been under the tutelage of the Jesuit missionaries in bygone years, as they preserve a few traditions in proof thereof. It is supposed that some unscrupulous servant of the Church made use of the ascendancy gained by the Jesuits over these Indians for his own purposes, and oppressed them until they turned against him and his religion. I observed that the oldest of those who travelled with me always took off their hats when passing a church, as though they had some idea of paying respect to it; but the same men told me that they considered the priests to be very bad men, and that they would not allow them to visit or remain in their villages.
I translate the following account of one of their traditions from a journal published in Cochabamba in October, 1872, in which is given a short account of the sources of the river Mamoré. The paper says, that “a little distance above the junction of the rivers Sacta and Vio, three large stones are met with, placed one above the other in the form of a column about thirty yards in height, dividing the river into two channels, and offering a gigantic and imposing spectacle to the observer. According to the tradition of the Yuracarés, the human species sprang from the union of the tiger with these stones, the offspring being called Mamoré, which, in their tongue, is equivalent for Eve. This Eve had two sons: one, a son of crime and perversity, became the progenitor of the Carais, as the Yuracarés call the Bolivians and other strangers who pass through their territory; the other, full of goodness, virtue, and blessings, was the ancestor of the Yuracarés. This tradition, which parodies the characters of Cain and Abel, serves to prove that these Indians preserve some notions of the Book of Genesis, which had probably been taught them by the missionaries that had been amongst them.” Here is a confusion of ideas, one of the most curious of which seems to me to be the placing the tiger as the deity, or first cause, as this would seem to have some analogy with the tiger-worship prevailing amongst certain tribes of the jungles of Hindostan.
At Coni I was first struck with the great difference between the Bolivian Indians of the interior of the republic and the Indians of the plains of the Beni. The former, who are all styled “Collas” (meaning dwellers in the Cordilleras) by those who inhabit the plains, are at first sight seen to be of an entirely different race, evidently dwellers in a cold climate, whilst the Indians of the plains are only able to live in warm tropical places. The Colla Indian is hardly ever seen without his poncho on, and muffler, or “bufanda,” round his neck. At a glance you see that he has an aversion to the cleansing effect of water, whilst the Indian of the plains only wears his poncho at nights or on very cold days, and will, if he is allowed, spend half his time in bathing. The Yuracarés who accompanied me continually stopped for a bath every time we crossed the river.
Through the kindness of Don Ignacio Bello, to whom nearly all the animals then at the Coni were contracted, I was able to arrange for mules for my journey to Cochabamba; and on the 9th of August I started, accompanied by an arriero, or mule-driver, and my servant-boy, the Cruzeño that I had been fortunate enough to secure in Exaltacion, who, instead of going from Trinidad to Santa Cruz, his native place, had decided to follow me to Sucre on the understanding that I should send him home from that town—a promise that I readily agreed to, for he had become very useful and trustworthy, but which he, poor boy, never saw carried out, as he died of small-pox in Cochabamba. The Cacique of the Yuracarés and the five boys of the tribe also accompanied me, and proved very useful on the road, as they generally managed during the day to shoot with their bows and arrows either fish from the river or game from the forest, a welcome addition to the repasts at the nightly halts. These Indians always volunteer to accompany a traveller of any position, and as it was desirable that they should be especially well disposed towards the navigation and railway enterprises, I took considerable pains to conciliate them, and believe that when operations are resumed for opening up the Bolivian commerce they will be found very useful allies. As labourers will have to be taken to the works from the interior of the republic, the Yuracarés can be made very useful in clearing ground at the Chimoré port, and in navigating the canoes that take the labourers as far as Trinidad, or perhaps as far as the first of the rapids, Guajará Merim, from whence the labourers could march to the various points on the railway where their services are required. They could also be made use of as guards against the few hostile tribes of the Mamoré, such as the Sirionos and the Chacobos; while, under proper management, it might be possible to induce a hundred or two of them to locate themselves at the wooding stations which will be required above the rapids when steam navigation is organized. As these Indians are more expert with their bows and arrows than any other tribe of the Mamoré, their presence would effectually check the incursions of those savages that refuse to approach civilization in the slightest degree. They are also reputed to be the bravest of all the tribes of the Beni, as proof of which I was told that the many marks and scars on their bodies are caused by the practice that prevails amongst the young braves of the tribe of slashing their bodies in sport, to show how well they can bear pain; and if a quarrel arises amongst them, the custom is for the whole of the tribe to turn out in the chaco, or some other open spot, where the belligerents are set opposite each other at about 100 paces, when, each being armed with bow and arrows, a regular duel ensues, the tribe encouraging the combatants to continue the fight until one of them is mortally wounded or sinks exhausted from loss of blood.
The road from the Coni leads in a south-west direction, and is simply a path cut through the forest of sufficient width for a mule and its cargo. After about four hours’ ride we arrived at Pachimoco, a single house, where lives the Intendente of the Yuracarés, José Tiflis by name, and next in authority to the cacique. We were received very kindly, the supplies of the chaco, such as yucas, maize, and plantains, being freely offered to us. Here I noticed that many of these Indians suffer from skin diseases, amongst them being a leper. Their women are dirty and uncombed, and, after the usual manner of savages, have to do all the hard work of wood and water carrying, while the men hunt, fish, and plant in the chacos. From the Coni to Pachimoco is reckoned as five leagues, but it cannot be more than four, if so much, as we were travelling barely four hours and did not do more than about a league an hour, as the road was very bad, being full of pot-holes of mud and slush. The “naturales,” as the Yuracarés are generally termed by the Bolivians, are splendid walkers, and on the few good parts of the road I had to keep my mule well at work in order to be up with the cacique, who led the way on foot ahead, carrying my gun, and a very fair-sized burden slung at his back. Just as we got to the clearing a heavy shower of rain fell, so I decided not to go any further that night, but accepted the invitation of the intendente, who had the centre of the hut cleared for my camp-bed. A number of the Trinitario boatmen, who had walked over from the Coni to visit the Yuracarés, slept just outside the hut, and kept up a continuous chatter till far on into the night.
The next morning (10th August) the mules were caught and cargoes up by about half-past seven, and, bidding adieu to the intendente and his family, we took the road, refreshed by a few hours’ good sleep. A couple of hours’ riding brought us to the river San Antonio, an affluent of the San Mateo, which river runs into the Chapari. The San Antonio, where we first crossed it, is about a mile in width, forming, at this dry season, an immense playa of water-worn stones, through which the river finds its way in shallow channels, whilst during the rains the whole width is covered with a very turbulent and rapid stream, perfectly impassable by man or beast. The eastern bank of this river was a succession of high cliffs. One which we passed under I judged to be 130 to 150 feet sheer perpendicular height, being cut straight down—the rock, a rotten sandstone of reddish brown colour, having been cut down by the river, which is continually wearing it away at its base. Other cliffs, as high and yellower in colour, appeared on ahead, glistening brightly in the glare of the sun. Amongst the stones in the bed of the river were limestones, sandstones, and conglomerates of all colours, many being splotched with a bright red lichen that grows on the rocks and stones that are under water. The limestones were almost all veined with a clear opaque quartz, and I observed a fine class of serpentine, the base of a dark olive green, with veins of whitish colour.