After paddling from daylight until 9 a. m. the crew were ready for breakfast. Mamoré sported over the beach. We made after ducks, geese, and wild turkeys as the only safety-valve to our boiling pot. The beautiful pink and white spoon-bill skims the insects from the surface of the river, while the proud-looking but homely tall white cranes survey us like some bodies with very stiff shirt collars. Temperature of the river water, 74°; air, 75°; and wet bulb, 74°.
We have been unfortunate at fishing. As the Indians pay no attention to it just here, we are inclined to believe there are few fish, while in the rocky formation we found the Indians pursuing them. There the water is not so muddy as here. In Lake Titicaca the most fish are found on the east side of the lake, where the water was limpid. We found more fish at the southern end of that lake when the waters were settled than at the north, where they come in turbid.
The air at night seems to be filled with musquitoes and bats; by daylight birds appear in proportion. Thousands of parrots keep the woods in a constant din.
The forest trees decrease in size and thickness; as we descend the canebrake takes their place. Some of the logs on the beach and snags in the stream are larger than those we generally see. These large trees are found in the upper forests as the exception rather than the rule.
The general course of the Chaparé is north; its bottom is sandy and muddy. There are no streams flowing into it, nor are there any appearance of beds of streams to be filled in the rainy season. We judged, therefore, the country on both sides of it, as far as we have come upon it, is a dead level.
After breakfast the men entered the woods, cut down some trees, stripped off the bark twelve or fourteen feet long and two feet wide, rolled it and brought it on board.
The common percussion lock shot-gun is the proper arm for the traveller in this country; the shot will keep him supplied with game. In case of necessity, a ball carried in the pocket can be slipped in over the shot, and answers all purposes, as the ball does execution much farther than an Indian's arrow. The most serviceable and important arms are double-barrelled shot-gun and a five-chambered revolver of Colt's.
The men pull irregularly. When they pull a moderate stroke, by our log they make about two miles per hour; but going with the current they only pull half the time, because on their upward passage they are obliged to pull incessantly, except when they stop for breakfast, or for the night. The down trip is the resting one. They work hard when they meet with obstructions, and overcome the difficulties. When they find things in their favor, they slide through them as easily as possible.
After supper they commenced manufacturing bark cloth by the light of the fire. The end of the piece of bark was laid over the end of a smoothly-barked log, and they commenced beating upon it with mallets, beginning at the corner and striking diagonally the piece to the middle, where the mallet was turned to the same angle at the other corner. They beat the bark regularly along. The fibres spread out, and the piece two feet wide was beaten out one foot more, to the thickness of stout pilot cloth. After all is beaten out, it is rolled up. The cloth is afterwards spread out in the sun to dry; the sap which has been so thoroughly pressed out from among the fibres by the beating, soon becomes dissipated by the sun, and the cloth is left with quite a woolly feel, and is painted in figures to suit the fancy of the wearer. By his own peculiar process it is cut out to form a very simple garment, and the Indian is dressed in a fancy-colored shirt, which reaches below his knees. This, with a hat of grass from the river-bank, is his wardrobe, except an extra shirt of foreign manufactured cotton, worn in the heat of the day when not at work, or in the evening when the musquitoes are troublesome. The bark cloth is most frequently used at night, when they particularly protect themselves. In the middle of the day they take off their clothes, carefully fold them up, and place them aside until they are required. When it rains very heavily they always undress, but as soon as the storm is over, or after the weather has been unpleasant for some time, and the air becomes cold, they dress again. They undress while at their seats in the canoe. As soon as we stop to breakfast, every man puts on his shirt before he leaves the boat; the captains always wear their clothes. The men seem to be very careful about the temperature at night. I have seen them put one shirt over another, and double their garments.
May 28, 1852.—The night was cloudy, and morning foggy. At daylight we were under weigh again, after sleeping comfortably in the woods on the bank, which varies its height from four to five feet. During the night the river rose three feet and fell again one. A short distance below we ran into a canebrake, and there, to our astonishment, stood three men belonging to this crew. The poor creatures had been here seventeen days, with the small pox. A little shelter of canes shaded them from the heat of the sun, but rain beat in upon them as they lay helpless on beds of green leaves, with no one to attend them. A knife was their only protection from the savage tiger, unless the stench from the disease kept wild animals at a distance.