Exploration of the Valley of the Amazon, Part 2 (of 2)

by William Lewis Herndon; Lardner Gibbon

From the size of the streams which empty into the river Otuguis, their slow, steady current and deep water, Mr. Bach considers that a steamboat could come up from the ocean to these rice lands, but neither he nor Mr. Oliden could descend to examine, partly from the fear their Indians had of the savages, and want of knowledge in the management of canoes, which they did not use like the Brazilian Indians. Mr. Oliden gave up his residence, returned to Sucre, and finally to Buenos Ayres, through the Argentine confederation, leaving his valuable lands and their productions to the Indians, who live an easy life, in plenty and in an hospitable climate.

There is dispute at the present day between the Brazilians and Bolivians with regard to the boundary lines between their two countries. Bolivia claims to the middle of the Paraguay river; but one of the Brazilian commanders observed to a Bolivian that the Brazilian government claimed as far west as the cattle of Brazil roamed, so that it is rather a difficult question to determine exactly where the initial point shall be, and then whereabouts a line could be drawn.

By treaty between the Spaniards and Portuguese, made more than a century ago, the southern initial point was marked at the mouth of the Jaurũ river where it empties into the Paraguay; thence in a straight line to the nearest point on the Guapore or Itenez, should be the eastern boundary of the territory of Bolivia, which certainly makes the middle both of the Paraguay and Guapore, or Itenez, the division line between the two countries. The question was not, however, of much importance formerly either to Brazil or Spain, but now, as the South Americans are beginning to awaken to the importance of commerce and steamboat navigation, the Bolivians raise the question how far they are entitled to these natural communications and necessary outlets. This is a matter of interest to Bolivia; for if she gives up a right to the Paraguay river, she has nothing on her southern border to fall back upon, except the river Otuguis, which may not be navigable. After the Paraguay leaves Bolivia and Brazil, it then flows over the soil of Paraguay and the Argentine confederation. Each claims the ownership of the navigable waters at the head of the La Plata, which God made for all.

We began to descend the great ridge of mountains to the northeast, with a hope that we may not be obliged to retrace our steps. The moment we touched the brow of the mountain, a thick fog-bank stood before us, thrown up like a great fortification. The wall was distinctly marked along the ridge, while on the southwest side the sun shone brightly. The mules, one by one, entered the thick mass of steam vapor with great hesitation. It was with difficulty the arrieros could push them in, so much did they dislike to descend. As they had travelled the road before, they turned and ran back into the light, but the men finally succeeded in getting them all in.

In the sunlight behind us, there was a short growth of short grass, with a portion of the soil burnt into a hard and scaly crust, like the outside of a steam-boiler. As soon as we had passed under the fog, the earth was found covered with a green sod; flowers bloomed by our path, and the foliage of the bushes covered the sides of the ravines, while the forest trees lined the bottom. The green surface looked like the waters of the sea as they flow up on the land, pushing towards the top of the mountain ravine in some places, while in others, where a bluff stood out, the foliage was forced back, as if the elevation was too high for the green wave to cover it.

Under this thick cloud the Indian finds fire-wood; here he burns charcoal, which is used by the silversmiths, the blacksmiths, and the city cooks. In the valley he gathers ornamental woods for the cabinet-maker. After he has cut down trees and sold them, he finds that his corn crop will yield him a plentiful supply without the trouble of leading water through the fields with his hoe, for the rains come down on the land so plentifully that he has nothing to do but to admire what they do for him; while his neighbor, on the other side of the mountain, eats only by the sweat of his brow.

For his comfort, the Indian must build himself a house for protection against the rains. He cuts four forked poles, and stands them up as supports to a thatched roof, slings his cotton hamac from post to post, and there enjoys his rest, swinging in a cool, pleasant climate, while he looks out upon the growing maize, and listens to the dashing waters of the mountain streams.

We halted and asked permission to encamp on the third night from Cochabamba, and to pitch our tent among an orchard of peach trees. We cooked supper by the Indian's fire, roasted a wild goose, shot during the day in a small lake, while José made tea and traded with the Indian for fodder.

May 14, 1852.—At 5 p. m., thermometer, 58°; wet bulb, 57°; cloudy and calm. This observation is made in the peach orchard, not far below the gorge through which we passed. After spending an uncomfortable night in our tent, which we find rather close in this dense atmosphere, we loaded up and pushed down through the forest trees over a most dangerous road. In some places the mules jump down frightful steps, where trees stand so close together that the baggage catches on both sides. I have constant fear that the instruments will be ruined, or that some of the animals will break their necks or our own. The water in the mountain streams being very low, we cross some of them by wading. The rapid ones we pass on miserable bridges made of long poles thrown over, and then covered with the branches of trees. Their wide dry beds indicate great floods in the rainy season. The arriero mentioned having lost half his train, with all the baggage, in an attempt to cross during the wet season.

Our route from Tarma to Oruro was south. We travelled ahead of the sun. In December, when we arrived in Cochabamba, the sun had just passed us. As soon as he did so, the rains descended heavily on this side of the ridge; it was impossible to proceed. The roads were flooded, the ravines impassable, and the arrieros put off their journey until the dry season had commenced. After the sun passed the zenith of Cochabamba, and had fairly moved the rain-belt after him towards the north, then we came out from under shelter, and are now walking behind the rain-belt in dry weather, while the inhabitants are actively employed in tending their crops.