In about half an hour Perkins arrived with three victims—a small dove, a little green lizard, known as the iguana, and a parrot. After making a brief examination of these trophies, of which he seemed very proud, I prepared dinner, after which we had a quiet smoke and then retired.
The next morning we were overjoyed to perceive that the river had risen nearly a foot during the night, but our hopes began to abate when it slowly commenced to go down again, and by eleven o’clock completely vanished, for the water was even lower than before. It certainly began to look as though we were to be detained here several weeks, possibly months.
In the afternoon we went out hunting, in spite of the suffocating heat. Coming to Perkins’s trail in the forest, we followed it to the end, took out our machetes, and, cutting out some of the underbrush, proceeded for about a kilometre farther. Resting here for some time without seeing anything worth shooting, we were about to return when the crackling of twigs indicated that some large animal was prowling around in our vicinity. Approaching cautiously, we peered through the rank vegetation and perceived a herd of about fifteen peccaries, busily engaged in devouring the fallen fruits of a group of palm-trees. As we had plenty of meat, we did not kill any of them, but, after observing them for a few minutes, started back to camp.[87]
The flesh of these pachyderms is excellent; if the animal killed is a male, it is necessary, however, to remove certain glands immediately, otherwise the meat will have a strong, disagreeable flavour. In some parts the natives take advantage of the natural pugnacity of this animal to encompass its destruction. The modus operandi is as follows: The hunter sneaks to them as they are feeding and excites them by imitating the barking of a dog; as soon as they perceive him they all make a rush in his direction; the hunter climbs a convenient tree and the enraged peccaries dash themselves against it in an endeavour to overturn it; the hunter then descends within reach of them, and, with his stout machete frequently kills numbers of the infuriated animals before they abandon their attack.
In the evening we again went fishing, but with indifferent success. The fish did not seem hungry, and it was not until after ten o’clock that we caught enough for breakfast. These were, as on the other occasions, all catfish. Other fish, however, abound in the Central and Lower Putumayo, most of which are already mentioned. One small fish, known as the candirú, is much feared in some parts on account of its fondness for entering the lower orifices of people in bathing.
On the following day Perkins did not feel very well, so I went out alone with the object of securing some more turtle eggs. Reaching the vicinity of the alligator-pool, I found a small trail which led along the bank for some distance. Following it with my eyes on the ground, I suddenly stumbled over something and almost lost my balance. Looking around, I perceived that I had run up against an enormous spectacled alligator that had been sunning himself on the sands, and I assure the gentle reader that I lost no time in making my get-away. The hideous monster lost no time in pursuing me, and my blood ran cold when I looked around and saw his wide-open jaws not more than two metres behind me. Fortunately, the forest was close, and in less time than it takes to tell it I was up a tree and pouring down a hot revolver fire upon my disgruntled antagonist, who soon walked off in disgust. After some time I cautiously descended; needless to say, I did not follow up any more turtle trails in the vicinity of the pool, for I had no desire to enter those pearly gates that I had just escaped from so narrowly.
Perkins, better in the afternoon, went out, while I remained with the canoe; in about an hour and a half he returned with about twenty small eggs, having found a charapilla’s nest and a large, beautifully plumaged bird, known as the piurí; this bird has a magnificent, black curled topknot and a yellow bill, tipped with black, and is about the size of a turkey. I believe this fine bird is rather rare.
The next morning Perkins and I set out on a forest expedition; following our previous trail to the end, we took out our machetes and hacked our way on a couple of kilometres farther. On the way we saw a tribe of the monkeys known as the Barrigudos; they are hairy and pot-bellied, with large, bullet-shaped heads and well-formed limbs. As soon as they saw us they scampered off, and we did not take a shot at them. Finally, perspiring from every pore as a result of our exertions, we were about to sit down to rest a little while, when Perkins heard in the distance the hoarse, piercing call of the toucan.[88] Wishing to secure a specimen of this strange, queer-looking bird, he set out in the direction from whence the call seemed to come, while I remained at the end of our trocha, enjoying a smoke. After waiting there an hour or so I began to get alarmed for him, and hallooed repeatedly at the top of my voice, but the deep silence of the forest was broken by no answering yell. Then I bethought myself to discharge my rifle, but nothing was to be heard in reply except the long-drawn-out echoes.
What could I do? I dare not set out in search of him, lest I, too, be lost, for in these dense solitudes people have perished from starvation and exposure, unaware that they were within a kilometre of a house. I sat there for hours, shouting and firing my rifle at short intervals and was just becoming desperate, when, faint in the distance, I thought I heard the dull report of a shot-gun. When the echoes of my answering discharge died away, I listened anxiously and, after a short interval, once more heard the muffled boom of the shot-gun, but a little louder than before. Keeping up a steady fire, in about three-quarters of an hour I was overjoyed to see Perkins, with the toucan in his arms, appear in quite a different direction than he had set out from.
After he had recovered himself somewhat by means of the small flask of aguardiente that I had with me, he informed me that the possibility of getting lost had never occurred to him until having shot the bird. After about an hour’s pursuit, he started to return; then he had realised that he was lost, for he had not the slightest idea of which way to return, and wandered about for hours until he finally got within range of the report of my rifle. After that, the rest was easy, and in less than an hour he had found his way back.