The population of the district is contained in the villages of Tocache, Lamasillo, Isonga, and Pisana, and amounts to about five hundred souls. The road between the port and Tocache is level and smooth; the soil dark, of a light character, and very rich, though thin. Nothing is sent from this district for sale, and the inhabitants purchase the cotton for their garments from the itinerant traders on the river, paying for it with tobacco. I should judge from the periodical overflow of the lands, the heat of the sun, and the lightness and richness of the soil, that this would be the finest rice country in the world.
We started at twelve with two canoes and twelve men; river fifty yards broad, eighteen feet deep, and with three miles an hour current; a stream called the Tocache empties into it about half a mile below the port. It forces its way through five channels, over a bank of stones and sand. It is doubtless a fine large-looking river when at high water. The country is hilly on the right and flat on the left-hand side. At 3 p. m. we entered a more hilly country, and began to encounter again the malos pasos; passed the Rio Grande de Meshuglla, which comes in on the left in the same manner as the Tocache, and soon after, the port of Pisana; no houses at the port; saw an old white man on the beach, who was a cripple, and said he had been bedridden for nine years. He begged us for needles, or fish-hooks, or anything we had. We gave him a dollar. He is the first beggar for charity's sake that I recollected to have seen since leaving Lima. There are beggars enough, but they ask for presents, or, offering to buy some article, expect that it shall be given to them.
The river is now entirely broken up by islands and rapids. In passing one of these, we came very near being capsized. Rounding suddenly the lower end of an island, we met the full force of the current from the other side, which, striking us on the beam, nearly rolled the canoe over. The men, in their fright, threw themselves on the upper gunwale of the boat which gave us a heel the other way, and we very nearly filled. Had the popero fallen from his post, (and he tottered fearfully,) we should probably have been lost; but by great exertions he got the boat's head down stream, and we shot safely by rocks that threatened destruction.
At six we arrived at the port of Balsayacu. The pueblo, which I found, as usual, to consist of one house, was a pleasant walk of half a mile from the port. We slept there, instead of at the beach; and it was well that we did, for it rained heavily all night. The only inhabitants of the rancho seemed to be two little girls; but I found in the morning that one of them had an infant, though she did not appear to be more than twelve or thirteen years of age. I suppose there are more houses in the neighborhood; but, as I have before said, a pueblo is merely a settlement, and may extend over leagues. The sandy point at the port is covered with large boulders, mostly of a dark red conglomerate, though there were stones of almost every kind brought down by the stream and deposited there. We travelled to-day about twenty-five miles; course N. W. by N.; average depth of the reaches of the river sixteen feet; current three and a half miles to the hour.
August 13.—Last night Ijurra struck with a fire-brand one of the boatmen, who was drunk, and disposed to be insolent, and blackened and burned his face. The man—a powerful Indian, of full six feet in height—bore it like a corrected child in a blubbering and sulky sort of manner. This morning he has the paint washed off his face, and looks as humble as a dog; though I observed a few hours afterwards that he was painted up again, and had resumed the usual gay and good-tempered manner of his tribe.
Between ten and eleven we passed the mal-paso of Mataglla, just below the mouth of the river of the same name, which comes in on the left, clear and cool into the Huallaga. The temperature of this stream was 69; that of the Huallaga 74. Ijurra thought its waters were decidedly salt, though I could not discover it. This mal-paso is the worst that I have yet encountered. We dared not attempt it under oar, and the canoe was let down along the shore, stern foremost, by a rope from its bows, and guided between the rocks by the popero—sometimes with his paddle, and sometimes overboard, up to his middle in water. I am told that "balsas" pass in mid-channel, but I am sure a canoe would be capsized and filled. The mal-paso is a quarter of a mile long, and an effectual bar, except perhaps at high water, to navigation for any thing but a canoe or balsa. Just before reaching Sion we passed the Pan de Azucar, a sugar-loaf island of slate rock; white when exposed long to the atmosphere; seventy or eighty feet in height, and covered with small trees. It appears to have been a promontory torn from the main land and worn into its present shape by the force of the current.
The river to-day averages one hundred yards in breadth, eighteen feet of depth, and with four miles of current. Its borders are hilly, and it runs straighter and more directly to the north than before.
At 1 p. m. we arrived at the port of Sion. This is the port de la madre, or of the main river. There is another port situated on the Caño or arm of the main river, nearer the pueblo. The village lies in a S. W. direction, about a mile from the port. As our Tocache men were to leave us here, we had all the baggage taken up to the town. The walk is a pleasant one, over a level road of fine sand, well shaded with large trees. Ijurra, who went up before me, met the priest of Saposoa (who is on the annual visit to his parish) going south, and about to embark at the Caño port; and the governor of the district going north to Pachiza, the capital. This last left orders that we should be well received; and the lieutenant governor of the pueblo lodged us in the convento, or priest's house, and appointed us a cook and a servant.
I slept comfortably on the padre's bedstead, enclosed with matting to keep off the bats. The people appear to make much of the visit of their priest. I saw in the corner of the sala, or hall of the house, a sort of rude palanquin, which I understood to have been constructed to carry his reverence back and forth, between the city and port.
August 14.—We employed the morning in cleaning the arms and drying the equipage. Had a visit from some ladies, pretty Mestizas, (descendants of white and Indian,) who examined the contents of our open trunks with curiosity and delight. They refrained, however, from asking for anything until they saw some chancaca with which we were about to sweeten our morning coffee, when they could contain themselves no longer; but requested a bit. This seems an article of great request, for no sooner had the news spread that we had it, than the alcalde brought us an egg to exchange for some; and even the lieutenant governor also expressed his desire for a little. We refused the dignitaries, though we had given some to the ladies; for we had but enough for two or three cups more. Their wants, however, were not confined to sugar. They asked, without scruple, after a while, for anything they saw; and the lieutenant wanted a little sewing cotton, and some of the soap we brought to wash ourselves with, to take for physic. These things we could more easily part with, and I had no objection to give him some, and also to regale his wife with a pair of pinchbeck earrings. There is nothing made or cultivated here for sale. They raise a few fowls and some yuccas and plantains for their own use; and it was well that we brought our own provisions along, or we might have starved.