At half-past four we entered the mouth of the Iça, or Putumayo, fifteen miles from Maturá. This is a fine-looking river, half a mile broad at the mouth, and opening into an estuary (formed by the left bank of the Amazon and islands on the right hand) of a mile in width. We found one hundred and thirty-eight feet in the middle of the mouth, and a current of two miles and three-quarters an hour. The water is clearer than that of the Amazon. A man at Tunantins, who had navigated this river a good deal, told me that one might ascend in a canoe for three and a half months, and that the current was so rapid that the same distance might be run down in fifteen days. This I think incredible; but there is no doubt that the Iça is a very long and very rapid river. He described it as shallow after two months of navigation upwards, with large sand-beaches, and many small streams emptying into it, on which is found much sarsaparilla. Many slaves of the Brazilians escape by way of this river into New Grenada.
San Antonio is a village about two miles below the mouth of the Iça. It is a collection of four or five houses of Brazilians, and a few Indian huts. The people seemed mad for tobacco, and begged me earnestly to sell them some. I told them I would not sell for money, but I was willing to exchange for things to eat, or for rare birds and beasts. They ransacked the town, but could only raise five fowls, half a dozen eggs, two small turtles, and three bunches of plantains. They had no animals but such as I already had, and I only bought a macaw and a "pavoncito," or little peacock. The little tobacco I gave for these things, however, was not enough to give everybody a smoke, and they implored me to sell them some for money. They came to the canoe after night, and showed so strong a desire to have it that I feared they would rob me. Finding me inexorable, they went off abusing me, which excited the wrath of Ijurra to a high pitch. Our stock of tobacco, which we had bought in Nauta, was now very much reduced. We had used it, during our voyage on the Ucayali, to purchase food and curiosities, and to give to the peons, who were not satisfied or contented unless they had an occasional smoke. We also had been liberal with it to governors and curates, who had been civil to us; and now we had barely enough for our own use to last us to Barra. I gave twenty-five cents the mass for it in Nauta, though the "Paraguá" cheated me, and should only have charged me twelve and a half. We could have sold it all the way to Barra for thirty-seven and a half, and fifty cents.
December 10.—Between San Antonio and Tunantins we met the governor of San Antonio, a military-looking white man, returning with his wife and children from a visit to Tunantins. I showed him my passport, which he asked for, and we interchanged civilities and presents; he giving me a "chiriclis," like the one I lost at Caballo-cocha, and water-melons; and I making him a present of tobacco and a tinder-box. The species of bird he gave me is called, in Brazil, Marianita. This one took a singular disease by which it lost the use of its legs—hopped about for some days on the knee-joints, with the leg and foot turned upwards in front, and then died. At twenty miles from San Antonio we entered the mouth of the Tunantins river. It is about fifty yards broad, and seems deep, with a considerable current. The town is prettily situated on a slight green eminence on the left bank, about half a mile from the mouth. The population is said to be between two and three hundred, though I would not suppose it to be near as much. It is composed of the tribes of Cayshanas and Juries, and about twenty-five whites.
One sees very few Indians in the Portuguese villages. They seem to live apart, and in the woods; and are, I think, gradually disappearing before the advance of civilization. They are used as beasts of burden, and are thought no further of. At 2 p. m. we left Tunantins. The river has eighteen, twenty-four, and thirty feet down to its entrance into the Amazon, where it forms a bar of sand, stretching some hundreds of yards out and downwards, on which is only six feet of water.
December 11.—We stopped at a factoria on the left bank, sixty-five miles from Tunantins, where people were making manteiga. The effect of "mirage," was here very remarkable. When within a mile or two of the factoria, I thought I saw quite a large town, with houses of two or three stories, built of stone and brick, with large heaps of white stone lying about in several places. There was a vessel lying off the town that I was satisfied was a large brig-of war; but upon drawing near, my three-story houses dwindled to the smallest palm ranchos; my heaps of building stones to piles of egg-shells; and my man-of-war to a schooner of thirty tons.
The season for making manteiga on the Amazon generally ends by the first of November; but the rise of the river this year has been unusually late and small. The people are still collecting the eggs, though they all have young turtles in them.
A commandant, with soldiers, is appointed every year by some provincial or municipal authority to take care of the beaches, prevent disorder, and administer justice.
Sentinels are placed at the beginning of August, when the turtles commence depositing their eggs, and are withdrawn when the beach is exhausted. They see that no one wantonly interferes with the turtles, or destroys the eggs. Those engaged in the making of manteiga pay a capitation tax of twelve and a half cents duty to the government.
The process of making it is very disgusting. The eggs, though they be rotten and offensive, are collected, thrown into a canoe, and trodden to a mass with the feet. The shells and young turtles are thrown out. Water is poured on, and the residue is left to stand in the sun for several days. The oil rises to the top; is skimmed off and boiled in large copper boilers. It is then put in earthern pots of about forty-five pounds weight. Each pot of oil is worth on the beach one dollar and thirty cents, and in Pará usually sells at from two and a half to three dollars.
A turtle averages eighty eggs; forty turtles will give a pot. Twenty-five men will make two hundred pots in twelve days. The beaches of the Amazon and tributaries yield from five to six thousand pots annually. The empty pot costs twelve and a half cents in Pará. Prolific as they are, I think the turtle is even now diminishing in number on the Amazon. Vast numbers of the young are eaten by the Indians, who take them by the time they are able to crawl, and when they do not measure more than an inch in diameter; boil them, and eat them as a delicacy. One Indian will devour two dozen of these three or four times a day. The birds also pick up a great number of them as they crawl from their nest to the water; and I imagine the fish, too, make them pay toll as they pass. I heard complaints of the growing scarcity, both of fish and manteiga, as I came down the river.