Not only are the trees of the forests peopled with myriads of birds, but the earth has also its feathered inhabitants, who seldom soar above the level of the soil. They build their nests among the roots and fallen branches, and depend for movement more on their feet than on their wings. Among those members of the winged tribe, who show no disposition to soar into the regions of air, we find here the turcassa, a pigeon with richly-shaded plumage; the beautifully speckled toothed fowl (Odontophorus speciosus, Tsch.), and short-tailed grass fowl, or crake,[90] whose flesh when cooked is delicately white and finely flavored. In marshy places and on the slimy banks of rivers, the jabiru (Mycteria americana, L.) loves to wade, together with the rose-colored spoon-bill (Platalea ajaja, L.); the fish-devouring ibis (Tantalus loculator, L.), the curved-billed snipe (Rhynchoea Hilærea, Val.), the party-colored cranes, plovers, land-rails, shrites, and even sea-swallows.[91] In the rivers there are ducks: these birds are, perhaps, carried down by the currents from the Andes, or, possibly, they fly in great trains from the inner waters of Brazil.
Of the amphibia in the principal forests of Peru, only the great fresh-water tortoise (Hydraspis expansa, Fitz.) is useful to the natives. On the sandy banks of rivers this animal buries its eggs, from which the Indians extract oil: its flesh, also, supplies well-flavored food. All other animals of this class are objects of terror, or at least of aversion, to the Indians. In the warm sand of the river banks, lies the lazy caiman.[92] He keeps his jaws wide open, only closing them to swallow the innumerable flies which he catches on his tongue. To the helplessness of these animals when on land, the natives have to be thankful that they are not the most dangerous scourges of the forest: in water, their boldness and swiftness of motion are fearful. The number of lizards here is not great, nor do they attain so considerable a size as in other equatorial regions. The serpents are to be feared, and on approaching them, it is not easy to decide at the first view whether they belong to a poisonous or innoxious species. In the forests, where the fallen leaves lie in thick, moist layers, the foot of the hunter sinks deep at every step. Multitudes of venomous amphibia are hatched in the half-putrescent vegetable matter, and he who inadvertently steps on one of these animals may consider himself uncommonly fortunate if he can effect his retreat without being wounded. But it is not merely in these places, which seem assigned by nature for their abode, that loathsome reptiles are found: they creep between the roots of large trees, under the thickly interwoven brushwood, on the open grass plots, and in the maize and sugar-cane fields of the Indians: nay, they crawl even into their huts, and most fortunate is it for the inhabitants of those districts that the number of the venomous, compared with the innoxious reptiles, is comparatively small. Of the poisonous serpents, only a few kinds are known whose bite is attended with very dangerous consequences. The Miuamaru, or Jergon (Lachesis picta, Tsch.), is, at most, three feet long, with a broad, heart-shaped head, and a thick upper lip. It haunts the higher forests, while in those lower down his place is filled by his no less fearful relative Flammon (Lachesis rhombeata, Prince Max.), which is six or seven feet in length. These serpents are usually seen coiled almost in a circle, the head thrust forward, and the fierce, treacherous-looking eyes glaring around, watching for prey, upon which they pounce with the swiftness of an arrow; then, coiling themselves up again, they look tranquilly on the death-struggle of the victim. It would appear that these amphibia have a perfect consciousness of the dreadful effect of their poisonous weapon, for they use it when they are neither attacked nor threatened, and they wound not merely animals fit for their food, but all that come within their reach. More formidable than the two snakes just described, but happily much less common, is the brown, ten-inch long viper.[93] It is brown, with two rows of black circular spots. The effect of its bite is so rapid, that it kills a strong man in two or three minutes. So convinced are the natives of its inevitably fatal result, that they never seek any remedy; but immediately on receiving the wound, lay themselves down to die. In the Montañas of Pangoa this viper abounds more than in any other district, and never without apprehension do the Cholos undertake their annual journey for the coca harvest, as they fear to fall victims to the bite of this viper. The warning sound of the rattlesnake is seldom heard in the hot Montañas, and never in the higher regions.
Nature, who in almost all things has established an equilibrium, supplies the natives with remedies against the bite of the serpent. One of the cures most generally resorted to is the root of the amarucachu (Polianthes tuberosa, L.), cut into slips and laid upon the wound. Another is the juice of the creeping plant called vejuco de huaco (Mikania Huaco, Kth.), which is already very widely celebrated. This latter remedy was discovered by the negroes of the equatorial province, Choco. They remarked that a sparrow-hawk, called the huaco, picked up snakes for its principal food, and when bitten by one it flew to the vejuco and ate some of the leaves. At length the Indians thought of making the experiment on themselves, and when bitten by serpents they drank the expressed juice of the leaves of the vejuco, and constantly found that the wound was thereby rendered harmless. The use of this excellent plant soon became general; and in some places the belief of the preservative power of the vejuco juice was carried so far that men in good health were inoculated with it. In this process some spoonfuls of the expressed fluid are drunk, and afterwards some drops are put into incisions made in the hands, feet, and breast. The fluid is rubbed into the wounds by fresh vejuco leaves. After this operation, according to the testimony of persons worthy of credit, the bite of the poisonous snake fails for a long time to have any evil effect. Besides the two plants mentioned above, many others are used with more or less favorable results. The inhabitants of the Montaña also resort to other means, which are too absurd to be detailed here; yet their medicines are often of benefit, for their operation is violently reactive. They usually produce the effect of repeated emetics, and cause great perspiration. There is much difference in the modes of external treatment of the wound, and burning is often employed. I saw an Indian apply to his wife's foot, which had been bitten, a plaster, consisting of moist gunpowder, pulverised sulphur, and finely-chopped tobacco, mixed up together. He laid this over the wounded part and set fire to it. This application, in connexion with one of the nausea-exciting remedies taken inwardly, had a successful result.
Innoxious snakes[94] wind on tendrilled climbing plants, or lie like necklaces of coral on the brown decayed leaves (Elap. affinis, Fitz.). Where the branches of rivers enter the gloomy forests and form little narrow lagunes, over which the high trees spread in vaulted cupolas almost impervious to the light of day, there dwells the powerful giant snake (Eunectes murinus, Wagl.), called by the Indians, in their figurative language, yacumaman, "mother of the waters." Stretched in listless repose, or winding round the stem of an old tree, bathing her tail in the cool lagune, she watches wistfully for the animals of the forest who come to the waters to quench their thirst. Whilst she gazes at her distant prey, the fascinating power of her eyes seems to subdue the trembling victim, and, unable even to attempt escape, he falls an easy sacrifice.
The amphibia of the frog species, which lie concealed in silent repose during the day, raise, after sunset, their far-sounding voices. The violet colored throat-bladder (Cystignathus silvestris, Tsch.) maintains his loud, uniform croak beneath the bushes, or penetrates into the huts of the inhabitants. The trapichero, or sugar-mill frog, is a large species, almost half a foot in length. Its croak resembles very much the grating sound caused by the working of a sugar mill, for which reason the natives have given it the name of trapichero, or the sugar-miller. The croaking of these frogs, whose manifold tones blend together in confused union, augments not a little the distressing dreariness of a forest night.
Of the numerous species of insects which swarm in these regions, few are remarkable for beauty; but many fix attention by their peculiar habits. The bites and stings of numbers of them are very dangerous, and it requires much caution to guard against their attacks.
Variegated butterflies flutter noiselessly among the spreading branches of the trees, or sun themselves on the warm masses of fallen leaves. The most remarkable of these butterflies is the large atlas, whose brilliant blue tints shine out with lustrous radiance in the dim light of the forest. Along the banks of rivers, and especially in hot marshy spots, small musquitoes swarm. The bite of this animal produces an intolerable burning sensation, and often causes considerable inflammation. But more troublesome, and also much more numerous, are the stinging-flies (sancudos). On my first arrival in the Montaña, I lay several days exceedingly ill in consequence of severe swelling of the head and limbs, caused by the bites of these insects. To the inhabitant of the forest the sancudos are an incessant torment. In no season of the year, in no hour of the day or night, is there any respite from their attacks. Rubbing the body with unctuous substances, together with the caustic juices of certain plants, and at night enclosing one's self in a tent made of tucuyo (cotton cloth), or palm-tree bast, are the only means of protection against their painful stings. The clothes commonly worn are not sufficient, for they are perforated by the long sting of the larger species, particularly of the much-dreaded huir-pasimi-sancudo (Lip-gnat). Regularly every evening at twilight fresh swarms of these mischievous insects make their appearance.
The ticks (ixodes) are a class of insects destined by nature for the suction of plants; but they often forsake trees, shrubs, and grasses, to fasten on man and other animals. With their long sharp stings they make punctures, in which they insert their heads, and thereby occasion very painful sores. These insects appear to have no preference for any particular class of animals. They are often found on the hair of dead mammalia, and among the feathers of birds which have been shot; even the toad, the frog, and the scaly lizard are not spared by them. Much more troublesome than these insects are the antanas, which are not visible to the naked eye. They penetrate the surface of the skin, and introduce themselves beneath it, where they propagate with incredible rapidity; and when some thousands of them are collected together, a blackish spot appears, which quickly spreads. If these insects are not destroyed when they first introduce themselves into the punctures, they multiply with incalculable rapidity, destroying the skin, and all the tender parts in contact with it. Washing with brandy, which is often found to be a remedy against the less mischievous isancos, is not sufficient for the removal of the antanas. For their extirpation the only effectual remedy is frequently bathing the part affected with a mixture of spirits of wine and corrosive sublimate.
Who can describe the countless myriads of ants which swarm through the forests? Every shrub is full of creeping life, and the decayed vegetation affords harbor for some peculiar kinds of these insects. The large yellow puca-çiçi is seen in multitudes in the open air, and it even penetrates into the dwellings. This insect does not bite, but its crawling creates great irritation to the skin. The small black yana-çiçi, on the contrary, inflicts most painful punctures. A very mischievous species of stinging ant is the black sunchiron. This insect inflicts a puncture with a long sting, which he carries in the rear of his body. The wound is exceedingly painful, and is sometimes attended by dangerous consequences. My travelling companion, C. Klee, being stung by one of these ants, suffered such severe pain and fever, that he was for a short while delirious. A few nights afterwards, a similar attack was made on myself during sleep. It suddenly awoke me, and caused me to start up with a convulsive spring. I must confess that I never, in my whole life, experienced such severe pain as I did at that moment.
A most remarkable phenomenon is exhibited by the swarms of the species called the ñaui-huacan-çiçi,[95] the great wandering ant. They appear suddenly in trains of countless myriads, and proceed forward in a straight direction, without stopping. The small, the weak, and the neuters are placed in the centre, while the large and the strong flank the army, and look out for prey. These swarms, called by the natives Chacus, sometimes enter a hut and clear it of all insects, amphibia, and other disagreeable guests. This work being accomplished, they again form themselves into a long train, and move onwards. The united force of these small creatures is vast, and there is no approach to the fabulous, when it is related that not only snakes, but also large mammalia, such as agoutis, armadillas, &c., on being surprised by them, are soon killed. On the light dry parts of the higher Montañas we find the large conical dwellings of the termes so firmly built, that they are impenetrable even to rifle shot. They sometimes stand singly, sometimes together, in long lines. In form they strongly resemble the simple, conical Puna huts.