On the Banks of the Amazon

by William Henry Giles Kingston

By working away with our paddles we soon ran out of sight of them.

Having rested for some minutes to recover from our exertions, we continued on down the stream. As the day was drawing on, it was necessary to look out for an island on which to encamp, as we had received so strong a warning not to land on the main shore. We kept a bright look-out, but no signs of an island could we see. The wind, which had hitherto been light, now increased to a gentle breeze; and as it was in our favour, we hoisted our sail and stood on, glad to be relieved from the labour of paddling. Thus we continued our progress, hoping to get before night to a distance from our savage enemies.

The night came on, but there was still sufficient light to enable us to steer down the centre of the river. John proposed that we should form two watches; he and Arthur in one, Domingos and I in the other. This, of course, was agreed to. After some difficulty, we persuaded Ellen and Maria to lie down on the hammocks which were spread in the middle of the canoe under the awning. John and Arthur took the first watch; Domingos coiling himself away in the stern of the canoe, and I in the bows; to be ready for service should we be required.

Tired as I was, it was some time before I could manage to go to sleep. I lay looking up at the dark sky—out of which thousands of bright stars shone forth—and listening to the ripple of the water against the bows of the canoe. At length the sound lulled me to sleep, though I felt conscious that Arthur had covered me up with a piece of matting. It seemed but a moment afterwards that I heard his voice calling me to get up and take his place. I raised myself, and saw Domingos at the helm, and the sails still set. Arthur then lay down in the place I had occupied; and I did him the same service he had rendered me, by covering him carefully up so as to protect him from the night air.

It was the first time we had voyaged at night; and as we glided calmly on, I could not help regretting that we had not oftener sailed at the same hour, and thus escaped the heat of the day, the mosquitoes on shore, and enjoyed the cool breeze on the river. As I did not feel at all sleepy, I proposed to Domingos that we should allow John and Arthur to rest on, and continue ourselves on watch till daylight, when perhaps we might find some spot on which to land with safety.

We thus glided on for some hours, and were expecting to see the dawn break over the trees on our larboard bow, when the channel became even narrower than before. Had it not been that the current still ran with us, I should have supposed that we had entered some other stream; but the way the water ran showed that this could not be the case. We therefore continued on as before. A bright glow now appeared in the eastern sky. Rapidly it increased till the whole arch of heaven was suffused with a ruddy light. Suddenly John awoke, and uttered an exclamation of surprise on finding that it was daylight. His voice aroused the rest of the party. Just then the sun, like a mighty arch of fire, appeared above the trees; and directly afterwards we saw, running across the stream down which we were sailing, another and far broader river. The mighty Marañon, as the natives call the Upper Amazon—or the Solimoens, as it is named by the Portuguese—was before us, having flowed down for many hundred miles from the mountain lake of Lauricocha, in Peru, 12,500 feet above the sea-level.

As we gazed up and down the vast river, no object intervened till sky and water met, as on the ocean; while, on either side, the tall forest walls diminished in the perspective till they sank into thin lines. Even here, however, it is narrow, though already very deep, compared to the width it attains lower down. Our satisfaction at having escaped from the savages and arrived at the high road, along which we were to proceed, was counterbalanced by our anxiety for our family. We might, after all, have passed the spot where they were waiting for us; and yet it was not likely they would remain in the neighbourhood of such savages as the Majeronas had shown themselves. We agreed, therefore, at all risks, at once to row in towards the shore, and examine it carefully as we proceeded downwards.

We had not gone far, when we came in sight of a sand-bank, which offered a favourable spot for landing. We accordingly rowed in, looking carefully about for any signs of natives. As no huts or any human beings were to be seen, we landed.

While Domingos and Arthur were collecting wood for a fire, John and I, followed by True, with our guns, made our way through the forest, that we might survey the country, so as not to be taken by surprise. We had not gone far when I caught sight of three animals, which I should have taken for young hogs, from their brown colour, long coarse hair, and their general appearance, had they not been sitting up on their haunches, as no hog ever sat. They had large heads, and heavy blunt muzzles, and thick clumsy bodies without tails. They cast inquisitive looks at me, and would have sat on apparently till I had got close up to them, had not True dashed forward, when, uttering low sounds, between a grunt and a bark, they rushed towards the water. I fired at one of them, and knocked it over. The rest reached the river, though pursued by True, and instantly dived beneath the surface. John came up, and on examining the animal’s mouth, we found it to be a rodent, and thus knew it to be a capybara, the largest of its order. When alarmed, it rushes to the water, swims as well as the otter, and takes its prey in a similar manner. It is, from its aquatic habits, often called the water-hog. It had short legs, and peculiarly long feet, partially webbed, which enable it to swim so well.

Directly afterwards, True turned a smaller animal out of a hollow trunk. It made off through the forest at great speed; but John shot it just as it was running behind a tree. It proved to be an agouti, also a rodent. It is in some respects like a hare or rabbit, with the coarse coat of a hog, but feeds itself like a squirrel. It is classed with the guinea-pig. It feeds on vegetables, and is very destructive to sugar-canes, which it rapidly gnaws through, and does not object to animal food.