The afternoon was devoted to an examination of the heights on the north-east side of the Yana-mayu, where, at an elevation of 450 feet, there is a level table-land, covered with palms and bamboos. The search was chiefly conducted along a ridge above this plateau, where the bamboos ended. We obtained twenty more plants of C. Calisaya, one of which was declared by Martinez to be a Calisaya morada (C. Boliviana, Wedd.), and the leaf agreed well with Dr. Weddell's description, though that botanist believed that the species was not found in this part of Caravaya, but only in the valleys of Ayapata, further north. To-day we saw a couple of tunquis,[335] birds with the most gorgeous plumage I ever beheld. They are the size of large pigeons, with orange-scarlet feathers on the head, neck, breast, and tail, black wings, light-grey back, and scarlet crest. They have a shrill, harsh cry. The butterflies and moths were numerous and brilliant, but so tame, and in such swarms, as to be a perfect plague. There was one bright swallow-tail, with blue wings, fringed with crimson. The torments from venomous insects were maddening; especially from a kind of fly which in a moment raised swellings and blood-red lumps all over the hands and face, causing great pain and irritation. During the night it rained heavily, with peals of thunder, and vivid flashes of lightning, while the river increased in size, and roared past the tent noisily.
The collection of chinchona-plants was deposited in a shady place, near the tent, the roots being well covered over with soft moss.
On the morning of May 4th the river was so swollen as to destroy all hopes of crossing it for the present. It frequently changed its colour, on one morning the surging flood being black, on another tolerably clear, and on another a light muddy colour. By these means Martinez could always tell where the rains had been heaviest, and what stream was contributing an unusual freshet to swell the waters of the Tambopata.
I devoted the day to examining the forest on the declivities overhanging the left bank of the Tambopata, and this was by far the most toilsome and dangerous forest journey we had yet made, rendered worse by a comparative want of success. The whole way was along giddy precipices, seeming to hang half way between the sky and the roaring torrent, with no foothold but decaying leaves, nothing to grasp but rotten branches, every motion a drenching bath from wet leaves, every other step a painful and dangerous slip or fall, besides hornets, and endless thorns. Among the latter I was struck by a tree called itapallu, with trunk and branches thickly set with thorns, very large leaves, and the fruit in clusters, like bunches of pearls with purple stalks. We met with large pigeons, flocks of green parrots, paroquets, and tunquis. The forest peeps across the river were superb, but it was difficult to enjoy them. Martinez pointed out a small Asplenium, called espincu, which has a sweet taste, and is sometimes chewed by the Indians for want of coca; and the panchi, a tall slender malvaceous tree, with large round leaves on spreading branches at the top, and very white wood. It is used by the Chunchos for procuring fire by friction, and the bark, which peels off in long strips, is serviceable for girdles. During this day we came to the largest Calisaya we had yet seen, and Martinez operated on the bark to show his dexterity as a cascarillero, which was remarkable.[336] Our collection only amounted to fourteen plants, among them two fine seedlings of C. Calisaya, two of C. micrantha, two of C. ovata, var. β rufinervis, and the remainder root-shoots of C. Calisaya: seedlings of the latter species are exceedingly rare. We returned to our camp dead beat, and drenched to the skin, only to find that my Indians were mutinous, declaring that they had been away long enough, that they had no maize or coca left, and that they must return to their homes at once. Our only hope rested upon them, and, if they had deserted, all our plans would have been entirely frustrated. It, however, required no little persuasion and eloquence to induce them to change their minds, and, as they had nothing left to eat, I sent Andres Vilca back to Gironda, to entreat him to supply us with a few chuñus and a little coca. I then told the others, in their own expressive language, that if they deserted me they were liars, thieves, traitors, and children of the Devil, whose punishment would soon overtake them; while if they were true to me they would be well rewarded, and would enjoy the friendship of a Viracocha. After this great effort in Quichua, the evening ended pleasantly. The Indians had built themselves a little shed of palm-leaves near the tent door, a bright fire was lighted, and its cheery reflection danced on the waves of the noisy flood.
It rained heavily through the night, and in the morning, hearing from Martinez that the varieties of C. ovata, the collection of which had been recommended to me by Dr. Weddell, were only found in a zone at a much greater elevation than that of the C. Calisayas, I devoted the day to a search in an almost vertical direction, on the north-east side of the Yana-mayu, towards some heights called Pacchani.
Ascending the steep sides of the ravine of Yana-mayu for about two hundred feet, we reached a narrow level shelf covered with ferns and the huge leaves of the sayal palm. The locality was very damp and shady, and the C. micrantha, Huiñapu, and Cascarilla Carua were in great abundance. We continued to ascend through the forest which covered the sides of the steep mountain, for several hours continuously; the footing consisting of decayed leaves and rotten trunks, moss and ferns covering every tree, and all the vegetation intensely humid. At a height of 750 feet above the river we came to some trees of the beno-beno (Pimentelia gomphosia,[337] Wedd.), with its bright laurel-like leaves and minute capsules; the C. pubescens, called by Martinez cascarilla amarilla, still only in bud, which was very abundant; and large trees of the morada naranjada (C. ovata, var. α vulgaris, Wedd.). Near this place a troop of about twenty monkeys went chattering along the tops of the trees, and while I was looking at them a huge black hornet rushed up out of the moss and stung me on the chin. These savage creatures make their nests under the earth, and are called huancoyru.
After a long and wearisome but fruitless search for young plants of the zamba morada (the β rufinervis variety of C. ovata) in these excessively damp forests, we began the descent again. Nothing struck me so much as the extraordinary variety of forms and shapes in which nature works in these tropical forests. One is amazed to see enormous trees with their gigantic roots separating at least twenty feet above the ground, and forming perfect Gothic arches. In one place a giant of the forest had grown on the edge of a ridge of rock, and the roots had combined with the stone to form a spacious vaulted cave large enough to hold ten men comfortably. Beautiful variegated leaves of Colocasiæ, and a scarlet-flowered Justitia, with bright purple leaves, united with a profusion of ferns to ornament the opening, while some tree-ferns, and a chinilla, the most slender and elegant of the palms of the forest, guarded the entrance. Rays of the sun struggled through a network of bamboos on an opposite bank, and penetrated into the recesses of the cavern. While I gazed on this lovely scene, the plaintive mournful notes of the little "Alma perdida" reached me from the boughs of the great tree. This is a small bird of the finch tribe, of which there are two kinds, one black, the other chesnut with black wings. Their loud clear note is peculiarly sad. Such peeps as these into the secret beauties of the innermost forest recesses are rewards for many hours of toil and disappointment.
Late in the evening I returned to the tent dead tired, sodden and wet to the skin, covered with moss and fungus, bitten all over by mosquitos, stung by a hornet, and with hands sliced in pieces by the sharp blades of a Panicum called challi-challi, but with only three plants of the valuable variety of C. ovata. It is most provoking that only the seedlings of all the worthless species of Chinchonæ should be in great abundance; the reason is of course connected with the general felling of the trees of valuable species by the cascarilleros, years ago.
There was little rain during the night, and on May 6th we commenced the search of a range of forest on the south-west side of the Yana-mayu ravine, where we found a large supply of plants of C. Calisaya. At a height of 500 feet above the river there was a ridge of rock jutting out from the forest-covered sides of the ravine. In this spot the ground was not nearly so thickly covered with vegetation; there were no palms, tree-ferns, or plants requiring extreme moisture, and young plants received shade from taller trees, while they also enjoyed plenty of sunshine through the spreading branches. The most abundant plants were Melastomas, huaturus, and Panica, which climb amongst the branches to a height of thirty feet and upwards. These afford but very slight shade, and below there is an undergrowth of ferns, Colocasiæ, and young plants. In different parts of this ridge we collected 124 young C. Calisaya plants, most of them root-shoots, and a few seedlings. There were also two young trees bearing capsules. The C. Calisaya plants were all growing out of the moss which covered the rock to a thickness of eight inches or a foot, together with beautiful Hymenophylla,[338] but there was scarcely any soil. The roots spread along the face of the rock, which is a metamorphic clay slate, unfossiliferous, slightly micaceous, and ferruginous;[339] and is easily broken up into thin layers by the growth of the plants. In this situation the C. Calisayas were more numerous than in any other we have yet seen.
Two bears had made themselves a comfortable and very carefully prepared bed on the summit of the ridge, whence there was an extensive bird's-eye view of the windings of the river, and of the forest-covered mountains beyond. On the opposite mountains there were two or three long bare places—tremendous landslips, not unfrequent occurrences in the forest. There is a sudden crash, when masses of rock, huge trees, and underwood come rushing down in one fell irresistible swoop. A beautiful white Stephanotis was climbing over the rocks. We returned to the camp in a heavy fall of rain, after a very severe but successful day's work, and found that both the Indians and ourselves had come to the end of our provisions, and that Andres Vilca Lad not returned.