With the World's Great Travellers, Volume 2

by Unknown

With good hunting-dogs fine jaguar- and puma-hunting might be obtained on the banks of this river, where without doubt they are exceedingly numerous. Many of the Indian hunting-dogs trained for deer or tapir will hunt tigers. When on the track of either of these animals, should they come across the scent of a tiger, their eager and confident manner of pressing on after the game is immediately changed, and with hair on their backs erect they become cautious and nervous to a degree, jumping at even the snapping of a twig. Abandoning the hunt they take up the tiger’s track and follow it. But should the huntsman call them from it, or not cheer them on with his voice from time to time, they exhibit great fear, and keeping close to his heels cannot be induced to hunt any more in that district for the day. On the contrary, if allowed to follow the tiger, they track it up with caution, being fully aware of the cunning dodge practised by that animal, which is, when the dog is close at hand, to spring to one side and lie in ambush till it passes, when with one spring the dog is seized.

Ordinary dogs would fall a prey to this trap, but not the self-taught tiger dogs. Their fine powers of scent warn them of their near approach to the quarry, when they advance with great caution, never failing to detect the tiger in time, and when once their eye is upon their enemy it has no chance to escape. In its pride of strength, the jaguar scorns the dogs, and with a rush like a ball from a cannon springs madly at one of them, feeling sure that it cannot escape. It has reckoned, however, without its host, for the dog eludes the spring with ease, and with great quickness flies on the tiger’s flank, giving it a severe nip. As the tiger turns with a growl of pain and disappointment, the dog is off to a little distance, yelping lustily and never remaining still an instant, but darting first on one side and then on the other. After one or two ineffectual charges the tiger gives it up, and on the approach of the hunter, springs into the nearest suitable tree, which it seldom leaves alive.

[The Indians describe several kinds of tigers and tiger-cats, each of which hunts one kind of animal in particular, whose call it can imitate. The deer-tiger is the puma. The wailah, or tapir-tiger, is pure black and of great size.]

The Corentyne and its branches were literally teeming with fish of various kinds, the greater number being haimara and perai. The latter were so abundant and ferocious that at times it was dangerous, when bathing, to go into the water at a greater depth than up to one’s knees. Even then small bodies of these hungry creatures would swim in and make a dash close up to our legs, and then retreat to a short distance. They actually bit the steering paddles as they were drawn through the water astern of the boats. A tapir which I shot swimming across the river had its nose eaten off by them whilst we were towing it to the shore.

Of an evening the men used to catch some of them for sport, and in taking the hook from their mouths produce a wound from which the blood ran freely. On throwing them back into the water in this injured condition they were immediately set upon and devoured by their companions. Even as one was being hauled in on the line, its comrades, seeing that it was in difficulties, attacked it at once. One day, when the boat was hauled in to some rocks, a few of the men were engaged shooting fish near by, and in so doing wounded a large haimara. Having escaped from its human tormentors, it made for the open river, but was instantly attacked by perai attracted by the blood escaping from its wound, and was driven back to the shelter of the rocks close to the boat, from which I had a good view of the chase. The large fish followed by its savage enemies reminded me of a parallel case on land,—a stricken deer pursued by wolves.

The perai, fortunately, lie only off sand-beaches and in quiet pools, not frequenting the cataracts, where their presence would be anything but acceptable to the men when working in the water. I was fortunate enough to find the spawning-place of some perai on the matted clusters of fibrous roots of some lianes, which hung from the branches of a tree into the water, among which much earthy sediment had collected and many small aquatic plants had grown. The sediment gave weight to the roots, which kept the clusters under water, and the force of the current made them buoyant, giving the lianes a slope when the river was high, which kept them not far from its surface. My attention was attracted to them by two perai lying close to them, with their heads up-stream, as the men said, engaged in watching their eggs. Procuring one of the roots I examined it, and found among it numbers of single eggs and clusters of small jelly-like young, which had been already hatched. The eggs were white and about one-eighth of an inch in diameter, with a hard exterior. The young were very little larger, and had a glutinous surface, which caused them to adhere together on being taken from the water. They had not acquired any powers of locomotion, but could just wriggle their tails like tadpoles. Under a lens they resembled the egg devoid of its covering, with a gelatinous ridge around three-quarters of its circumference, one of which expanded into a knob (probably the head), while the other termination was flattened and tail-like. I could not detect any eyes or mouth in them, but their bodies were speckled with gray markings of coloring matter....

In hauling the boats up the shallow rapids near the mouth of the Cutari the men, whilst wading, were frequently struck by conger eels. Every now and then a man would call out “Congler, congler,” and jumping into the boat rub his shins, which had been benumbed by a touch from one of these fish. After half a minute or so the numbness wore off and he took to the water again. The boat being in a critical condition at the time, it was impossible for the men to leave the water. They had therefore to brave out the shocks from these batteries, which must have been very slight, given probably by small eels, or they could not have stood them.

Small long-bodied fish were very common, and one kind, called courami, took the baited hook as long as the fisherman who threw the line was out of sight.

The lukenaine, or sunfish, was captured by my men in a singular manner. They manufactured an exceedingly rude fly out of a bunch of silk-grass (Bromelia karatas) fibre, and attached it to a large hook with a short line and rod. Drawing it rapidly over pools among the rocks, it was immediately taken by the lukenaine, as the artificial fly is struck by the trout.