When an Indian house is reached the chief comes out with a party of his warriors. The burden of proof rests with the invading European. He advances to the chief with his interpreter, and must make declaration of friendship. If the explanation of his appearance be accepted, the Indian laughs and may slap his visitor vigorously on the back, after the usual custom of the native in South America welcoming the stranger. Together they then proceed to the house, and the chief calls his woman and orders food to be provided for the strangers. The white man on his part tenders whatever he has brought by way of presents—beads, gun-cartridges, a small-tooth comb, or a knife.
When the evening meal is finished the chief stalks into the centre of the maloka, which has hitherto been untenanted, like the arena of a circus before the performance begins. A great fire is made up, and about it the men of the tribe squat on their haunches. The chief explains to them the presence of the stranger, and takes counsel on the question of his entertainment. As he describes his intentions he falls into a rhythmic chant, and his followers assent with deep-chested Huhh! All this is a lengthy business, but the tribe eventually arrive at a common decision. The chief then bends forward to the tribal tobacco pot that has been placed midway among the group. Into this he solemnly dips a tobacco stick, and conveys a little of the liquid to his tongue. Man after man bends forward round the circle, and each in turn dips his splinter of wood into the pot to notify his assent. It is a sign of tribal agreement as binding as the Lord Chancellor’s seal on a document of state. With it the tobacco palaver is concluded and the Indians seek their hammocks for sleep.
The Indian’s treachery is proverbial. I may mention on this point two sayings—there are hundreds similar—which illumine this phase of the character and customs of the tribesmen. The Andoke says, relevant to the Karahone, “If your spirit wander (sleep) in the hammock of a monkey or beast Indian, it wanders always.”[408] The meaning is this, the Karahone appear to have a real and exact knowledge of virulent poisons. It is related that they can saturate a hammock with some narcotic which the victim does not discover, thus ensuring his death or destruction. They also burn fires under the hammock of those they wish to remove from the world, and stifle them with a narcotic smoke.
Another proverbial remark runs: “If a Karahone give you a pineapple, beware.” This refers to the Karahone’s playful habit of presenting poisoned pines. The Boro have a similar saying: “Take a pine from an enemy and die,” but this is due to the recognition of the fact that an Indian is never so dangerous as when simulating hospitality that is treacherous in the extreme.
Perhaps the Indian trait that soonest strikes, and most indelibly impresses the observer, is his charming altruism in the community of the family or tribal group, his wild misanthropy towards other tribes. His ambition is to live undisturbed with his family in the deep recesses of the forest. He asks only to be let alone.
In a region where land is free for all to take who will, and personal belongings are few—and invariably buried with the owner—laws of inheritance there can be none. But the law of possession is strict, and the penalty is death. There can be no toleration of theft, as on account of the publicity in which the Indians live it may be effected with such ease. The punishment for theft has therefore to be drastic, final. The victim may kill the thief. I was told that this is done by hacking at the culprit’s head with a wooden sword or a stone axe. This savours of ceremonial sacrifice. But though to steal from a member of the tribe is to steal from the whole community and therefore a crime, there is no bar against stealing from the stranger. They will do so unblushingly. I remember once missing a pair of scissors. On searching I discovered a Witoto woman stealing them. But she swore she had never put them in her basket, though they were found there!
There is very distinctly a dualism of ethics, one law for the tribe, and another law for all who are not members of it. To kill a fellow-tribesman is to injure the tribe by destroying one of its units. Sin against the individual is of no importance except in so far as injury to any one person is injury to a unit of the tribe, to be punished by the law of retaliation in kind if the offender be of another tribe. Sin against another tribe is no sin except in the eyes of the tribe sinned against; then for its members it becomes not the sin of the individual doer but of his whole community. It is the tribe and not the individual that would be held guilty for any offence committed by one of its members. For instance if a Boro killed a Menimehe, vengeance may be taken by the dead man’s tribe on all or any of the members of the Boro tribe concerned.
Vengeance is primarily a matter for the individual principally affected. A man considers it a disgraceful thing not to be able to avenge himself, and will therefore never apply to the chief for tribal help. On the other hand the chief and the tribe will sometimes take up a quarrel and make it their own. This is a common custom amongst small communities, an affront to any one of the community being a personal attack upon every other member, though it is not necessarily avenged by all unless the affronted one is himself unable to compass revenge.
Members of a tribe sometimes quarrel, though rarely, but at times a fight commences in which others join, till eventually it becomes a “set to” between two families. On the whole I am inclined to say that the natives of the Amazons are the least quarrelsome people I have ever met.
It would be wrong to state that these people have no moral sense, because a slavish adherence to custom in itself is moral. That is to say they possess a moral code. However that does not entail any right or wrong as we know it, but only pia, that is “what our forefathers thought and did,” in other words tribal usage, which may be translated by what we call “good form.” There are no words in the Indian tongues for virtue, justice, humanity, vice, injustice or cruelty. These are unknown to the tribes who differentiate only with the equivalents for good and bad. Points like this earmark the ethics of a people. The curious negative character I have already noted is carried out here also. Again there is recognition of the moral law of conjugal fidelity in that there is definite punishment for infidelity—the ordeal of the stinging ants. Punishment infers transgression of a law or code. It is not sufficient to say that in this case it is due to the extraordinary jealousy of Indian husbands, for the penalty is imposed on both husband and wife, the retribution is due to public opinion not personal revenge. Before marriage the men take the tribal prostitutes—the Maku girls and to some extent the unattached women—openly, but after marriage this is not the case. Incest is unknown among them, and in that term I include promiscuous intercourse among any of the members of a household. The antipathy to this lies only between those living under the same roof, it does not extend to consanguineous individuals who are members of different households.