Our young Russians had been under the belief, as most people are, that the banks of the Amazon were entirely without civilised settlements—that the great river had scarcely been explored—that only a few travellers had descended this mighty stream; and that altogether it was still as much of a terra incognita as in the days of Orellana. They found that these notions were quite incorrect; that not only is there the large town of Para near the mouth of the Amazon, but there are other considerable settlements upon its banks, at different distances from each other, all the way up to Peru. Even upon some of its tributaries—as the Rio Negro and Madeira—there are villages and plantations of some importance. Barra, on the former stream, is of itself a town of 2,000 inhabitants.
In that part of the Amazonian territory which lies within the boundaries of Brazil, the settlements are, of course, Brazilian—the settlers being a mixture of Portuguese negroes and Christianised Indians. The portion of the great valley higher up towards the Cordilleras of the Andes, belongs to the Spanish-American governments—chiefly to Peru. There are also settlements of a missionary character, the population of which consists almost entirely of Indians, who have submitted themselves to the rule of the Spanish priests. Years ago many of these missionary settlements were in a flourishing condition; but at present they are in a complete state of decay.
Our young Russians found, then, that the great South American river was by no means unknown or unexplored—though as yet no great observer has given an account of it. The different travellers who have descended the Amazon, and written books about it, have all been men of slight capacity, and lacking powers of scientific observation; and one cannot help feeling regret, that Humboldt did not choose the Amazon, instead of the Orinoco, as the medium of his valuable researches into the cosmography of South America. Such a grand subject was worthy of such a man.
In ascending the Amazon—which our party did by the Brazilian steamer—they were fortunate in finding on board a very intelligent travelling companion; who gave them much information of the great valley and its resources. This man was an old Portuguese trader, who had spent nearly a lifetime in navigating not only the Amazon itself, but many of its larger tributaries. His business was to collect from the different Indian tribes the indigenous products of the forest—or montaña, as it is called—which stretches almost without interruption from the Andes to the Atlantic. In this vast tropical forest there are many productions that have found their way into the channels of commerce; and many others yet unknown or unregarded. The principal articles obtained by the traders are sarsaparilla, Peruvian bark, annatto, and other dyes, vanilla, Brazil nuts, Tonka beans, hammocks, palm fibre, and several other kinds of spontaneous vegetable productions. Monkeys, toucans, macaws, parrots, and other beautiful birds, also enter into the list of Amazonian exports; while the imports consist of such manufactured articles as may tempt the cupidity of the savage, or the weapons necessary to him either in war or for the chase.
In this trade their travelling companion had spent thirty years of his life; and being a man of intelligence he had not only acquired a consider able fortune, but laid in a stock of geographical knowledge, of which the young Russians were not slow to take advantage. In the natural history of the montaña he was well versed; and knew the different animals and their habits from actual observation—for which thirty years of adventure had given him a splendid opportunity. It was a rich store, and our travellers, especially the naturalist Alexis, did not fail to draw largely from it.
From the information given by this intelligent trader, Alexis was enabled to determine several facts about the bears of South America, that had hitherto been doubtful. He learnt that there are at least two very distinct varieties of them—one, the “spectacled bear” (ursus ornatus)—so called, on account of the whitish rings around his eyes, suggesting the idea of spectacles; and another without these white eye markings, and which has been lately named by a distinguished German naturalist ursus frugilegus.
The former kind is known throughout the Peruvian countries as the “Hucumari,” and although it inhabits the Cordilleras, it does not ascend to the very cold elevations known as the “paramos” and “puna.” On the contrary, it affects a warmer climate, and is not unfrequently found straying into the cultivated valleys termed generally the “Sierra.” The ursus frugilegus chiefly frequents the tangled woods that cover the eastern spurs of the Andes, ranging often as far down as the montaña, and never so high as the declivities that border on the region of snow.
Both of these species are black bears, and termed “oso negro” by the Spanish-Americans; but the Hucumari is distinguished by a white list under the throat, a white breast, a muzzle of a greyish buff colour, and the crescent-like eye markings already mentioned. It is also of a gentler disposition than its congener, smaller in size, and never preys upon other animals. The other does so—frequently making havoc among the flocks of sheep, and even attacking the cattle and horses of the haciendas. The ursus frugilegus will give battle even to man himself—when baited, or rendered furious by being chased.
Both these species are supposed to be confined to the Chilian and Peruvian Andes. This is an erroneous supposition. They are equally common in Bolivia, and in the sierras of New Grenada and Venezuela. They are found on both sides of Lake Maracaibo—in the sierras Perija and Merida. One of them, at least, has also been observed in the mountains of Guiana—though naturalists have not met with it there. Humboldt, it is true, saw the tracks of what the natives told him was a bear on the Upper Orinoco; and, reasoning from their size, he drew the inference that it must have been a much smaller species than the ursus americanus; but in this matter the great philosopher was led into an error by a misapplied name. He was informed that the animal was the “oso carnero,” or flesh-eating bear—a title given by the Mission Indians to distinguish it from two other animals, which they also erroneously term bears—the “oso palmero,” or great ant-eater (tamanoir), and the “oso hormiguero” (tamandua). The animal by whose tracks Humboldt was misled, was, no doubt, one of the smaller plantigrade animals (coatis or grisons), of which there are several species in the forests of South America.
Our hunters learnt enough from their travelling acquaintance to convince them that, in whatever latitude they might approach the Andes from the east, they would be certain to find both varieties of the South American black bear; but that the best route they could take would be up the great Napo river, which rises not very far from the old Peruvian capital of Quito. In the wild provinces of Quixos and Macas, lying to the east of Quito—and to which the Napo river would conduct them—they would be certain to meet with the animals they were in search of.