It is when one turns to the vegetable world that one finds the staple food of the Amazonian native. The manioc is to the Indian the chief necessary of life. The sweet manioc,[182] although known to these Issa-Japura tribes, is never planted, because it is not appreciated by them. They prefer the poisonous species which, as its botanical name Manihot utilissima implies, can be put to a multiplicity of uses. To eliminate the poison and render it fit for food, the manioc is subjected to several processes. So far as I could observe, or learn by leading questions, these are roughly as follows:
The women bring the brown tubers of the manioc in baskets from the plantation. On their way up they stop by the river and cleanse the soil from the roots, which are like a small beet in appearance, but white when peeled. The manioc after it has been washed and soaked for a short time is next scraped by means of a sharp wooden knife in order to peel off the thin adhesive skin, similar in substance to that of a potato, but if anything thinner. Sometimes the women instead of using a wooden knife simply scrape the skin off with their teeth. The peeled roots are washed in the river again, and taken up to the house. Each root is then cut longitudinally into three or four sections, which are put in a bowl near the fire and left to soak for twenty-four hours. When, at the end of this time, the manioc is sufficiently softened, they place a piece or two of rotten manioc in the bowl with the fresh stuff. The object of this is to promote fermentation and thus to extract the poison from the fresh root.
The next process is to mash the manioc, and for this purpose it is all—both fresh and rotten—removed from the pan and grated into a large wooden trough, with the special implement that has black palm-spines inserted in the soft wood for teeth. The grated pulp is removed from the trough and put into a cylindrical palm-cane wringer, the cassava-squeezer which is used by the Boro, the Andoke, the Resigero, the Okaina, and all tribes to the north. The Witoto and other tribes on the south use a long rectangular palm-fibre wringer, which is twisted to form a cylinder in the same way as a puttee is wound round the leg. In this elastic cylinder it is compressed till all the poisonous juice has been drained away, when the remainder, a coarse kind of flour, is placed in an open pan and left to get thoroughly dry. Afterwards it is rubbed between the hands to make it finer.[183]
The next operation is to sift this flour through a basket sieve. Any coarse stuff that does not rub through the sieve is thrown away. The fine residue is baked in a clay platter, and should be turned over with the hands once during the process. No water is added to the flour before it is baked.
This flour is kneaded with water, put in a pan and cooked over the fire. The result, the cassava bread, is leathery and tough, and when one speaks of “bread” unleavened bread must be understood. It is never allowed to brown, the outer crust is merely hardened, and as a result the cassava cake has always a raw uncooked taste. But I found that if one of these native cakes were cut in small pieces and fried in animal fat till crisply toasted, it was quite good eating, better if anything than ordinary bread.
The Boro leave the starch in the cassava flour, so their bread is more sustaining than Witoto bread, as Witoto women remove the starch and use it for other purposes.[184] Boro bread is also thicker, and when pulled apart is of a stringy consistency.
PLATE XXXIV.
BORO WOMEN MAKING CASSAVA