Odd people: Being a popular description of singular races of man

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ODD PEOPLE.
BEING
A POPULAE DESCRIPTION
OF
SINGULAK KACES OF MAN
BT
CAPTAIN MAYNE EEID,
AUTHOE OF " THE DESERT HOME," " THE BUSH BOYS," ETC.
V[mm KUustrationg
BOSTON:
TICKNOR AND FIELDS.
M DCCC LXI.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by
TICK NOR AND FIELDS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
limtntM UNIVERSITY
MUJPH BIOWM DRAUGIiON LIBRASr
AUBUBN. ALABAMA 36830
University Press, Cambridge :
Stereotyped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.
Ml CONTENTS
Page
bosjesmen, or bushmen 5
THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS 35
THE "WATER-DWELLERS OF MARACAIBO .... 61
THE ESQUIMAUX 85
SIUNDRUCUS, OR BEHEADERS 118
THE CENTAURS OF THE " GRAN CHAOO "
. . . .145
THE FEEGEES, OR MAN-EATERS 169
THE TONGANS, OR FRIENDLY ISLANDERS 194
THE TURCOMANS 218
THE OTTOMACS, OR DIRT-EATERS 244
THE COMANCHES, OR PRAIRIE INDIANS 268
THE PEHUENCHES, OR PAMPAS INDIANS 290
THE YAMPARICOS, OR ROOT-DIGGERS 309
THE GUARAONS, OR PALM-DWELLERS 341
THE LAPLANDERS 359
THE ANDAMANERS, OR MUD-BEDAUBERS . . . . . 388
THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS 411
THE FUEGIAN DWARFS 439
» J.
BOSJESMEN, OH BUSHMEN.
Perhaps no race of people has more piqued the
curiosity of the civilized world than those little yellow
savages of South Africa, knoAvn as the Bushmen. From
the first hour in which European nations became ac-quainted
with their existence, a keen interest was ex-cited
by the stories told of their peculiar character and
habits ; and although they have been visited by many
travellers, and many descriptions have been given of
them, it is but truth to say, that the interest in them
has not yet abated, and the Bushmen of Africa are al-most
as great a curiosity at this hour as they were
when Di Gama first doubled the Gape. Indeed, there
is no reason why this should not be, for the habits and
personal appearance of these savages are just now as they
were then, and our familiarity with them is not much
greater. "Whatever has been added to our knowledge
of their character, has tended rather to increase than
diminish our curiosity.
At first the tales related of them were supposed to be
filled with wilful exaggerations, and the early travellers
were accused of deahng too much in the marvellous.
This is a very common accusation brought against the
6 BOSJESiEEN, OR
early travellers ; and in some instances it is a just one.
But in regard to the accounts given of the Bushmen
and their habits there has been far less exaggeration
than might be suppose"d ; and the more insight we ob-tain
into their pecuhar customs and modes of subsistence,
the mol'e do we become satisfied that almost everything
alleged of them is true. Li fact, it would be difficult
for tlie most inventive genius to contrive a fanciful ac-count,
that would be much more curious or interesting
than the real and bond fide truth that can be told about
this most pecuhar people.
"Where do the Bushmen dwell ? what is their coun-try?
These are questions not so easily answered, as
in reality they are not supposed to possess any country
at all, any more than the wild animals amidst which
they roam, and upon whom they prey. There is no
Bushman's country upon the map, though several spots
in Southern Africa have at times received this desigr-nation.
It is not possible, therefore, to delineate the
boundaries of their country, since it has no boundaries,
any more than that of the wandering Gypsies of Europe.
If the Bushmen, however, have no country in the
proper sense of the word, they have a " range," and one
of the most extensive character—since it covers the
whole southern portion of the African continent, from
the Cape of Good Hope to the twentieth degree of south
latitude, extending east and west from the country of the
Caffres to the Atlantic Ocean. Until lately .it was be-heved
that the Bushman-range did not extend far to the
north of the Orange river ; but this has proved an er-roneous
idea. They have recently " turned up " in the
land of the Dammaras, and also in the great Kalahari
BUSmiEN. 7
desert, hundreds of miles north from, the Orange river
;
and it is not certain that thej do not range still nearer to
the equatorial line — though it may be remarked that
the countrj in that direction does not favor the suppo-sition,
not being of the peculiar nature of a Bushman's
countrj. The Bushman requires a desert for his dwell-ing-
place. It is an absolute necessity of his nature, as
it is to the ostrich and many species of animals ; and
north of the twentieth degree of latitude. South Africa
does not appear to be of this character. The heroic
Livingstone has dispelled the long-cherished illusion of
the Geography about the." Great-sanded level" of these
interior regions ; and, instead, disclosed to the world a
fertile land, well watered, and covered with a profuse
and luxuriant vegetation. In such a land there will be
no Bushmen.
The limits we have allowed them, however, are suffi-ciently
large, —fifteen degrees of latitude, and an equally
extensive range from east to west. It must not be sup-posed,
however, that they populate this vast territory.
On the contrary, they are only distributed over if in
spots, in httle communities, that have no relationship or
connection with one another, but are sep^'ated by wide
intervals, sometimes of hundreds of miles in extent. It
is only in the desert tracts of South Africa that the
Bushmen exist,—in the karoos, and treeless, waterless
plams—among the barren ridges and rocky defiles—in
the ravines formed by the beds of dried-up rivers —- in
situations so sterile, so remote, so wild and inhospitable
as to offer a home to no other human being save the
Bushman himself.
If we state more particularly the locahties where "the
8 BOSJESMEN, OR
haunts of the Bushman are to be found, we may specify
the barren lands on both sides of the Orange river,—
inchiding most of its head-waters, and down to its mouth,
— and also the Great Kalahari desert. Through all tliis
extensive region the kraals of the Bushmen may be
encountered. At one time they were common enough
within the limits of the Cape colony itself, and some
half-caste remnants still exist in the more remote dis-tricts
; but the cruel persecution of the hoers has had the
effect of extirpating these unfortunate savages ; and, like
the elephant, the ostrich, and the eland, the true wild
Bushmaa^s.is now only to be met with beyond the fron-tiers
of the colony.
About the origin of the Bushmen we can offer no
opinion. They are generally considered as a branch
of the great Hottentot family; but this theory is far
from being an established fact. Wlien South Africa
was first discovered and colonized, both Hottentots and
Bushmen were found there, differing from each other
just as they differ at this day ; and though there are
soihe striking points of resemblance between them, there
are also points of dissimilarity that are equally as strik-ing,
if we regard the two people as one. In personal
appearance .there is a certain general hkeness : that is,
both are woolly-haired, and both have a Chinese cast
of features, especially in the form and expression of the
eye. Their color too is nearly the same ; but, on the other
hand, the Hottentots are larger than the Bushmen. It
is not in their persons, however, that the most essential
joints of dissimilarity are to be looked for, but rather in
their mental characters ; and here we observe distinc-tions
so marked and antithetical, that it is difiicult to
BUSHMEN. 9
reconcile them with the fact that these two people are
of one race. Whether a different habit of life has pro-duced
this distinctive character, or whether it has in-fluenced
the habits of life, are questions not easily an-swered.
We only know that a strange anomaly exists
•— the anomaly of two people being personally ahke—
that is, possessing physical characteristics that seem to
prove them of the same race, while intellectually, as we
shall presently see, they have scarce one character in
common. The slight resemblance that exists between
the languages of the two is not to be regarded as a proof
of- their common origin. It only shows that they have
long Hved in juxtaposition, or contiguous to each other
;
a fact which camiot be denied.
In giving a more particular description of the Bush-man,
it will be seen in what respect he resembles the
true Hottentot, and in what he differs from him, both
physically and mentally, and this description may now
be given.
The Bushman is the smallest man with whom we are
acquainted ; and if the terms " dwarf" and " pigmy " may
be applied to any race of human beings, the South-Afri-can
Bushmen presents the fairest claim to these titles.
He stands only 4 feet 6 inches upon his naked soles —
•
never more than 4 feet 9, and not unfi^equently is he
encountered of still less height—even so diminutive as
4 feet 2. His wife is of still shorter stature, and this
Lilliputian lady is often the mother of children when the
crown of her head is just 3 feet 9 inches above the soles
of her feet. It has been a very common thing to con-tradict
the assertion that these people are such pigmies
in stature, and even Dr. Livingstone has done so in his
1- .
10 BOSJESMEN, OR
late magnificent work. The doctor states, very jocoselj,
that they are "not dwai"fish—that the specimens brought
to Europe have been selected, like costermougers' dogs,
for their extreme ugliness."
But the doctor forgets that it is not from " the speci-mens
brought to Europe " that the above standard of the
Bushman's height has been derived, but from the testi-mony
of numerous travellers — many of them as trust-worthy
as the doctor himself—from actual measurements
made by them upon the spot. It is hardly to be believed
that such men as Spai-mann and Burchell, Barrow and
Lichtenstein, Harris, Campbell, Patterson, and a dozen
others that might be mentioned, should all give an erro-neous
testimony on this subject. These travellers have
differed notoriously on other points, but in this they all
agree, that a Bushman of five feet in height is a tall man
in his tribe. Dr. Livingstone speaks of Buslmien " six
feet high," and these are the tribes lately discovered liv-ing
so far north as the Lake Nagami. It is doubtful
whether these are Bushmen at all. Indeed, the descrip-tion
given by the doctor, not only of then* height and the
color of their skin, but also some hints about their intel-lectual
character, would lead to the belief that he has
mistaken some other people for Bushmen. It must be
remembered that the experience of this great traveller
has been chiefly among the Becliuana tribes, and his
knowledge of the Bushman proper does not appear to
be either accurate or extensive. No man is expected to
know everybody ; and amid the profusion of new facts,
which the doctor has so hberally laid before the world,
it would be strange if a few maccuracies should not
occur. Perhaps we should have more confidence if this
BUSHMEN. - 11
was the only one we are enabled to detect ; but the doc-tor
also denies that there is anything either terrific or
majestic in the " roaring of the hon." Tnus speaks he :
" The same feeluig which has induced the modem painter
to caricature the lion has led the sentimentalist to con-sider
the Hon's roar as the most terrific of all earthly
sounds. We hear of the ' majestic roar of the king of
beasts.' To talk of the majestic roar of the hon is mere
majestic twaddle."
The doctor is certainly in error here. Does he sup-pose
that any one is ignorant of the character of the
lion's roar ? Does he fancy that no one has ever heard
it but himself? If it be necessary to go to South Africa
to take the true measure of a Bushman, it is not neces-saiy
to make that long journey in order to obtam a cor-rect
idea of the compass of the hon's voice. We can
hear it at home in all its modulations ; and any one who
has ever visited the Zoological Gardens in Regent's
Park—nay, any one who chances to hve within half, a
mile of that magnificent menagerie—will be very much
disposed to doubt the correctness of the doctor's asser-tion.
If there be a sound upon the earth above all
others " majestic," a noise above all others " terrific," it
is certainly the roar of the hon. Ask Albert Terrace
and St. John's Wood
!
But let us not be too severe upon the doctor. The
world is indebted to him much more than to any other
modern traveller, and all great men indulge occasion-ally
in the luxury of an eccentric opinion. We have
brought the point forward here for a special purpose,—
to illustrate a too much neglected truth. Error is not
ahvays on the side of exaggeration ; but is sometimes
12 BOSJESMEN, OE
also found in the opposite extreme of a too-squeamish
moderation. We find the learned Professor Lichtenstein
ridicuhng poor old Hernandez, the natural historian of
Mexico, for having given a description of certain fabu-lous
animals—fabulous, he terms them, because to him
they were odd and unknown. But it turns out that the
old author was right, and the animals exist! How
many similar misconceptions might be recorded of the
BufFons, and other closet philosophers—urged, too, with
the most bitter zeal ! Incredulity carried too far is but
another form of credulity.
But to return to our proper theme, and complete the
portrait of the Bushman. We have given his height.
It is in tolerable proportion to his other dimensions.
When young, he appears stout enough ; but this is only
when a mere boy. At the age of sixteen he has reached
all the manhood he is ever destined to attain ; and then
his flesh disappears; his body assumes a meagre "outline;
his arms and limbs grow thin ; the calf disappears from
his legs ; the plumpness from his cheeks ; and altogether
he becomes as wretched-looking an object as it is possi-ble
to conceive in human shape. Older, his skin grows
dry, corrugated, and scaly ; his bones protrude ; and his
knee, elbow, and ankle-joints appear like horny knobs*
placed at the ends of what more resemble long straight
sticks than the arms and limbs of a human being.
The color of this creature may be designated a yellow-bpown,
though it is not easy to determine it to a shade.
The Bushman appears darker than he really is ; since
liis skin serves him for a towel, and every species of
dirt that discommodes his fingers he gets rid of by wip-ing
it off on his arms, sides, or breast. The result is,
BusmiEN. 13-
that his whale body is usually coated over with a stratum,
of grease and filth, which has led to the behef that he
regularly anoints himself—a custom common among
many savage tribes. This, however, the Bushman does
not do : the smearing toilet is merely occasional or ac-cidental,
and consists simply in the fat of whatever flesh
he has been eating being transferred from his fingers to
the cuticle of his body. This is never washed off agaui
—for water never touches the Bushman's hide. Such a
use of water is entirely unknown to him, not even for
washing his face. Should he have occasion to cleanse
his hands—which the handling of gum or some like
substance sometimes compels him to do—he performs
the operation, not with soap and water, but with the dry
dung of cattle or some wild animal. A httle rubbing of
this upon his skin is all the purification the Bushman
believes to be needed.
Of course, the dirt darkens his complexion ; but he
has the vanity at times to brighten it up—not by
making it wliiter—but rather a brick-red. A little
ochreous earth produces the color he requires ; and with
tliis he smears his body all over—not excepting even
the crown of his head, and the scant stock of wool that
covers it.
Bushmen have been washed. It requires some scrub-bing,
and a plentiful api^lication either of soda or soap,
to reach the true skin and brmg out the natural color
;
but the experiment has been made, and the result proves
that the Bushman is not so black as, under ordinary cir-cumstances,
he appears. A yellow hue shines through
the epidermis, somewhat like the color of the Chmese,
or a European in the worst stage of jaundice—the eye
14 BOSJESMEN, OE
only not having that complexion. Indeed, the features
of the Bushman, as well as the Hottentot, bear a strong
similarity" to mose of the Chinese, and the Bushman's
eye is essentially of the Mongohan type. His hair,
however, is entirely of another character. Instead of
being long, straight, and lank, it is short, crisp, and
curly,—in reality, wool. Its scantiness is a character-istic
; and in this respect the Bushman differs from the
woolly-haired tribes both of Africa and Australasia.
These generally have "ileeces" in profusion, whereas
both Hottentot and Bushman have not enough to half
cover their scalps ; and between the little knot-like
" kinks " there are wide spaces without a single hair
upon them. The Bushman's " wool " is naturally black,
but red. ochre and the sun soon convert the color into a
burnt reddish hue.
The Bushman has no beard or other hairy encum-brances.
Were they to grow, he would root them out
as useless inconveniences. He has a low-bridged nose,
with wide flattened nostrils ; an eye that appears a mere
slit between the eyehds ; a pair of high cheek-bones,
and a receding forehead. His lips are not thick, as in
the negro, and he is furnished with a set of fine white
teeth, wliich, as he grows older, do not decay, but pre-sent
the singular phenomenon of being regularly worn
down to the stumps—as occurs to the teeth of sheep
and other ruminant animals.
Notwithstanding the small stature of the Bushman,
his frame is wiry and capable of great endurance. He
is also as agile as an antelope.
From the description above given, it will be inferred
that the Bushman is no beauty. Neither is the Bush-
BUSHMEN. 15'
woman ; but, on the contrary, both having passed the
period of youth, become absolutely ugly, —the woman,
if possible, more so than the man.
And yet, strange to say, many of the Bush-girls, when
young, have a cast of prettiness almost amounting to
beauty. It is difficult to tell in what this beauty con-sists.
Sometliing, perhaps, in the expression of the
obhque almond-shaped eye, and the small well-formed
mouth and hps, with the shinmg white teeth. Their
limbs, too, at this early age, are often well rounded ;
and many of them exhibit forms that might serve as
models for a sculptor. Then' feet are especially well-shaped,
and, in point of size, they are by far the small-est
in the world. Had the Chmese ladies been gifted
by nature with such little feet, they might have been
spared the torture of compressing them.
The foot of a Bushwoman rarely measures so much
as six inches in length ; and full-grown girls have been
seen, whose feet, submitted to the test of an actual
measurement, proved but a very httle over four inches !
Intellectually, the Bushman does not rank so low as .
is generally beheved. He has a quick, cheerful mmd,
that appears ever on the alert,—as may be judged by
the constant play of his httle piercing black eye, —
and though he does not always display much skill in
the manufacture of his weapons, he can do so if he
pleases. Some tribes construct their bows, arrows, fish-baskets,
and other implements and utensils with admi-rable
ingenuity ; but in general the Bushman takes no
pride in fancy weapons. He prefers having them effec-tive,
and to this end he gives proof of his skill in the
manufacture of most deadly poisons with which to anoint
16: BOSJESMEN, OE
Ills arrows. Furthermore, he is ever active and ready
for action ; and in this his mind is in complete contrast
with that of the Hottentot, with whom indolence is a
predominant and well-marked characteristic. The Bush-man,
on the contrary, is always on the qui vive ; always
ready to be doing where there is anything to do ; and
there is not much opportunity for him to be idle, as he
rarely ever knows where the next meal is to come from.
The ingenuity which he displays in the capture of vari-ous
kinds of game,—far exceeding that of other hunting
tribes of Africa,—as also the cunning exhibited by him
while engaged in cattle-stealing and other plundering
forays, prove an intellectual capacity more than pro-portioned
to his diminutive body ; and, in short, in
nearly every mental characteristic does he differ from
the supposed cognate race— the Hottentot.
It would be hardly just to give the Bushman a char-acter
for high courage ; but, on the other hand, it would
be as unjust to charge him with cowardice. Small as
he is, he shows plenty of " pluck," and when brought to
bay, his motto is, " No surrender." He will fight to
the death, discharging his poisoned arrows as long as
he is able to bend a bow. Indeed, he has generally
been treated to shooting, or clubbing to death, wher-ever
and whenever caught, and he knows nothing of
quarter. Just as a badger he ends his life, —his last
struggle being an attempt to do injury to his assailant.
This trait in his character has, no doubt, been strength-ened
by the inhuman treatment that, for a century, he
has been receivino- from the brutal boers of the colonial
frontier.
The costume of the Bushman is of the most primitive
BUSmiEN. 17
character,— differing only from that worn by our first
parents, in that the fig-leaf used by the men is a patch
of jackal-skin, and that of the women a sort of fringe or
bunch of leather thongs, suspended around the waist by
a strap, and hanging down to the knees. It is in reality
a little apron of dressed skin ; or, to speak more accu-rately,
two of them, one above the other, both cut into
narrow strips or thongs, from below the waist downward.
Other clothing than this they have none, if we except a
little skin kaross, or cloak, which is worn over their
shoulders ;—that of the women being provided with a bag
or hood at the top, that answers the naked " piccaninny "
for a nest or cradle. Sandals protect their feet from the
sharp stones, and these are of the rudest description, —
merely a piece of the thick hide cut a little longer and
broader than the soles of the feet, and fastened at the
toes and round the ankles by thongs of sinews. An
attempt at ornament is displayed in a leathern skullcap,
or more commonly a circlet around the head, upon which
are sewed a number of " cowries," or small shells of the
Cyprea moneta.
It is difficult to say where these shells are procured, —
as they are not the product of the Bushman's country,
but are only found on the far shores of the Indian Ocean.
Most probably he obtains them by barter, and after they
have passed thi'ough many hands ; but they must cost
the Bushman dear, as he sets the highest value upon
them. Other ornaments consist of old brass or copper
buttons, attached to the little curls of his woolly hair
;
and, among the women, strings of little pieces of ostrich
egg-shells, fashioned to resemble beads ; besides a per-fect
load of leathern bracelets on the arms, and a like
B
18 BOSJESMEN, OE
profusion of similar circlets on the limbs, often reaching
from the knee to the ankle-joint.
Red oclire over the face and hair is the fashionable
toilette, and a perfumery is obtained hj rubbing the
skin with the powdered leaves of the " buku " plant,
a species of diosma. According to a quaint old writer,
this causes them to " stink like a poppy," and would be
highly objectionable, were it not preferable to the odor
which they have without it.
They do not tattoo, nor yet perforate the ears, lips, or
nose,—practices so common among savage tribes. Some
instances of nose-piercing have been observed, with the
usual appendage of a piece of wood or porcupine's quill
inserted in the septum, but this is a custom rather of the
CafFres than Bushmen. Among the latter it is rare. A
grand ornament is obtained by smearing the face and
head with a shining micaceous paste, which is procured
from a cave in one particular part of the Bushman's
range ; but this, being a " far-fetched " article, is pro-portionably
scarce and dear. It is only a fine belle who
can afford to give herself a coat of hlinh-slip, —as this
sparkling pigment is called by the colonists. Many of
the women, and men as well, carry in their hands the
bushy tail of a jackal. The purpose is to fan off the
flies, and serve also as a " wipe," to disembarrass their
bodies of perspiration when the weather chances to be
over hot.
The domicile of the Bushman next merits description.
It is quite as simple and primitive as liis dress, and
gives him about equal trouble in its construction. If
a cave or cleft can be found in the rocks, of sufficient
capacity to admit his own body and those of his family
BUSHMEN. 19
—never a very large one—lie builds no house. The
cave contents him, be it ever so tight a squeeze. If
there be no cave handy, an overhanging rock will an-swer
equally as well. He regards not the open sides,
nor the draughts. It is only the rain which he does not
relish ; and any sort of a shed, that will shelter him from
that, will serve him for a dwelUng. If neither cave,
crevice, nor impending cliff can be found in the neigh-borhood,
he then resorts to the alternative of house-building
; and his style of architecture does not differ
greatly from that of the orang-outang. A bush is chosen
that grows near to two or tlu-ee others,—the branches
of all meeting in a common centre. Of these branches
the builder takes advantage, fastening them together at
the ends, and watthng some into the others. Over this
framework a quantity of grass is scattered in such a
fashion as to cast off a good shower of rain, and then the
" carcass " of the building is considered complete. The
inside work remains yet to be done, and that is next set
about. A large roundish or oblong hole is scraped out
in the middle of the floor. It is made wide enough and
deep enough to hold the bodies of three or four Bush-people,
though a single large Caffre or Dutchman would
scarcely find room in it. Into this hole is flung a
quantity of dry grass, and arranged so as to present the
appearance of a gigantic nest. This nest, or lair, be-comes
the bed of the Bushman, his wife, or wives,—for
he frequently keeps two, —and the other members of
his family. Coiled together like monkeys, and covered
with their skin karosses, they all sleep in it,—whether
" sweetly " or " soundly," I shall not take upon me to
determine.
20 BOSJESMEN, OR
It is supposed to be this fasliion of literally " sleeping
in the bush," as also the mode by which he skulks and
hides among bushes,—invariably taking to them when
pursued,—that has given origin to the name Bushman,
or Bosjesman, as it is in the language of the colonial
Dutch. This derivation is probable enough, and no
better has been offered.
The Bushman sometimes constructs himself a more
elaborate dwelling ; that is, some Bushmen ;— for it
should be remarked that there are a great many
tribes or communities of these people, and they are not
all so very low in the scale of civilization. None, how-ever,
ever arrive at the building of a house,—not even
a hut. A tent is their highest effort in the building
line, and that is of the rudest description, scarce deserv-ing
the name. Its covering is a mat, which they weave
out of a species of rush that grows along some of the
desert streams ; and in the fabrication of the covering
they display far more ingenuity than in the planning or
construction of the tent itself. The mat, in fact, is
simply laid over two poles, that are bent into the form
of an arch, by having both ends stuck into the ground.
A second piece of matting closes up one end ; and the
other, left open, serves for the entrance. As a door is
not deemed necessary, no further construction is re-quired,
and the tent is "pitched" complete. It only
remains to scoop out the sand, and make the nest as
already described.
It is said that the Goths drew their ideas of archi-tecture
from the aisles of the oak forest ; the Chinese
from their Mongolian tents ; and the Egyptians from
their caves in the rocks. Beyond a doubt, the Bush-man
has borrowed his from the nest of the ostrich
!
bush:men. 21
It now becomes necessary to inquire how the Bush-man
spends his time ? how he obtains subsistence ? and
what is the nature of his food ? All these questions can
be answered, though at first it may appear difficult to
answer them. Dwelhng, as he always does, in the very
heart of the desert, remote from forests that might fur-nish
him with some sort of food—trees that might yield
fruit,—far away from a fertile soil, with no knowledge
of agriculture, even if it were near,—with no flocks or
herds ; neither sheep, cattle, horses, nor swine,—no
domestic animals but his lean, diminutive dogs,—how
does this Bushman procure enough to eat ? What are
his sources of supply?
We shall see. Being neither a grazier nor a farmer,
he has other means of subsistence,—though it must be
confessed that they are of a precarious character, and
often during his life does the Bushman find himself on
the very threshold of starvation. This, however, results
less from the parsimony of Nature than the Bushman's
own improvident habits,—a trait in his character which
is, perhaps, more strongly developed in him than any
other. "We shall have occasion to refer to it presently.
His first and cliief mode of procuring his food is by
the chase : for, although he is surrounded by the sterile
wilderness, he is not the only animated being who has
chosen the desert for his home. Several species of
birds—one the largest of all—and quadi'upeds, share
with the Bushman the solitude and safety of tliis deso-late
region. The rhinoceros can dwell there ; and in
numerous streams are found the huge hippopotami
;
whilst quaggas, zebras, and several species of antelope
frequent the desert plains as their favorite " stamping "
22. BOSJESMEN, OR
ground. Some of these animals can live almost without
water ; but when they do require it, what to them is a
gallop of fifty miles to some well-known " vley " or pool ?
It will be seen, therefore, that the desert has its numer-ous
denizens. All these are objects of the Bushman's
pursuit, who follows them with incessant pertinacity—
as if he were a beast of prey, furnished by Nature with
the most carnivorous propensities.
In the capture of these animals he displays an almost
incredible dexterity and cunning. His mode of ap-proaching
the sly ostrich, by disguising himself in the
skin of one of these birds, is so well known that I need
not describe it here ; but the ruses he adopts for captur-ing
or killing other sorts of game are many of them
equally ingenious. The pit-trap is one of his favorite
contrivances ; and this, too, has been often described,—
but often very erroneously. The pit is not a large
hollow,—as is usually asserted,—but rather of dimen-sions
proportioned to the size of the animal that is ex-pected
to fall into it. For game hke the rhinoceros or
eland antelope, it is dug of six feet in length and three
in width at the top ; gradually narrowing to the bottom,
where it ends in a trench of only twelve inches broad.
Six or seven feet is considered deep enough ; and the
animal, once into it, gets so wedged at the narrow bot-tom
part as to be unable to make use of its legs for the
purpose of springing out again. Sometimes a sharp
stake or two are used, with the view of impaling the
victim ; but this plan is not always adopted. There is
not much danger of a quadruped that drops in ever
getting out again, till he is dragged out by the Bushman
in the shape of a carcass.
BUSmiEN. 23
The Bushman's ingenuity does not end here. Be-sides
the construction of the trap, it is necessary the
game should be guided into it. Were this not done, the
pit might remain a long time empty, and, as a necessary
consequence, so too might the belly of the Bushman.
In the wide plain few of the gregarious animals have a
path which they follow habitually ; only where there is
a pool may such beaten trails be found, and of these the
Bushman also avails himself; but they are not enough.
Some artificial means must be used to make the traps
pay—for they are not constructed without much labor
and patience. The plan adopted by the Bushman to
accomplish this exhibits some points of originahty. He
first chooses a part of the plain which hes between two
mountains. No matter if these be distant from each
other : a mile, or even two, will not deter the Bushman
from his design. By the help of his whole tribe—men,
women, and children—he constructs a fence from one
mountain to the other. The material used is whatever
may be most ready to the hand : stones, sods, brush, or
dead timber, if this be convenient. No matter how
rude the fence : it need not either be very high. He
leaves several gaps in it ; and the wild animals, however
easily they might leap over such a puny barrier, will,
in their ordinary way, prefer to walk leisurely through
the gaps. In each of these, however, there is a danger-ous
hole—dangerous from its depth as weU as from the
cunning way in wliich it is concealed from the view—
in short, in each gap there is a pit-fall. No one—at
least no animal except the elephant—would ever sus-pect
its presence ; the grass seems to grow over it, and
the sand lies unturned, just as elsewhere upon the plain.
24 BOSJESMEN, OR
What quadruped could detect the cheat ? Not any one
except the sagacious elephant. The stupid eland tum-bles
through ; the gemsbok goes under ; and the rhi-noceros
rushes into it as if destined to destruction. The
Bushman sees this from his elevated perch, glides for-ward
over the ground, and spears the strugghng victim
with his poisoned assagai.
Besides the above method of capturing game the
Bushman also uses the bow and arrows. This is a
weapon in which he is greatly skilled ; and although
both bow and arrows ''are as tiny as if intended for
children's toys, they are among the deadliest of weapons.
their fatal effect lies not in the size of the wound they
are capable of inflicting, but in the pecuhar mode in
which the barbs of the arrows are prepared. I need
hardly add that they are dipped in poison ;—for who
has not heard of the poisoned arrows of the African
Bushmen ?
Both bow and arrows are usually rude enough in
their construction, and would appear but a trumpery
affair, were it not for a knowledge of their effects. The
bow is a mere round stick, about three feet long, and
slightly bent by means of its string of twisted sinews.
The arrows are mere reeds, tipped with pieces of bone,
with a split ostrich-quill lapped behind the head, and
answering for a barb. This arrow the Bushman can
shoot with tolerable certainty to a distance of a hundred
yards, and he can even project it farther by giving a
shght elevation to his aim. It signifies not whether the
force with which it strikes the object be ever so slight,
if it only makes an entrance. Even a scratch from its
point will sometimes prove fatal.
BUsmiEN. 25
Of course the danger dwells altogether in the poison.
"Were it not for that, the Bushman, from his dwarfish
stature and pigmy strength, would be a harmless
creature indeed.
The poison he well knows how to prepare, and he
can make it of the most " potent spell," when the " ma-terials
" are within his reach. For this purpose he
makes use of both vegetable and animal substances, and
a mineral is also employed ; but the last is not a poison,
and is only used to give consistency to the hquid, so that
it may the better adhere to the arrow. The vegetable
substances are of various kinds. Some are botanically
known : the bulb of Amaryllis disticha,—the gum of a
Euphorbia,—the sap of a species of sumac (Rhus), —
and the nuts of a shrubby plant, by the colonists called
Woolf-gift (Wolf-poison)
.
The animal substance is the fluid found in the fangs
of venomous serpents, several species of which serve the
purpose of the Bushman : as the httle " Horned Snake," —so called from the scales rising prominently over its
eyes ; the " Yellow Snake," or South African Cobra
{Naga haje) ; the " Puff Adder," and others. From all
these he obtains the ingredients of his deadly ointment,
and mixes them, not all together ; for he cannot always
procure them all in any one region of the country in
which he dwells. He makes his poison, also, of different
degrees of potency, according to the purpose for which
he intends it ; whether for hunting or war. With sixty
or seventy Httle arrows, well imbued with this fatal
mixture, and carefully placed in his quiver of tree-bark
or skin, —or, what is not uncommon, stuck hke a coro-net
around his head,— he sallies forth, ready to deal
2
26 BOSJESMEN, OR
destruction eitlier to game, animals, or to human ene-mies.
Of these last he has no lack. Every man, not a
Bushman, he deems his enemy ; and he has some reason
for thinking so. Truly may it be said of him, as of
Ishmael, that his " hand is against every man, and every
man's hand against him ; " and such has been his un-happy
history for ages. Not alone have the boers been
his pursuers and oppressors, but all others upon his
borders who are strong enough to attack him, —colo-nists,
Caffres, and Bechuanas, all alike,—not even ex-cepting
his supposed kindred, the Hottentots. Not only
does no fellow-feehng exist between Bushman and Hot-tentot,
but, strange to say, they hate each other with the
most rancorous hatred. The Bushman will plunder a
Namaqua Hottentot, a Griqua, or a Gonaqua,— plunder
and murder him with as much ruthlessness, or even
more, than he would the hated Caffre or boer. All are
alike his enemies,—all to be plundered and massacred,
whenever met, and the thing appears possible.
We are speaking of plunder. This is another source
of supply to the Bushman, though one that is not always
to be depended upon. It is his most dangerous method
of obtaining a livehhood, and often costs him his life.
He only resorts to it when all other resources fail him,
and food is no longer to be obtained by the chase.
He makes an expedition into the settlements, —either
of the frontier boers, Caffres, or Hottentots,—whichever
chance to live most convenient to his haunts. The ex-pedition,
of course, is by night, and conducted, not as an
open foray, but in secret, and by stealth. The cattle are
stolen, not reeved, and driven off while the owner and his
people are asleep.
BUSEDHEN. 27
In tlie morning, or as soon as the loss is discovered,
a pursuit is at once set on foot. A dozen men, mounted
and armed with long muskets (roers), take the spoor of
the spoilers, and follow it as fast as their horses will
carry them. A dozen boers, or even half that number,
is considered a match for a whole tribe of Bushmen, in
any fight which may occur in the open plain, as the
boers make use of their long-range guns at such a dis-tance
that the Bushmen are shot down without being
able to use their poisoned arrows ; and if the thieves
have the fortune to be overtaken before they have got
far into the desert, they stand a good chance of being
terribly chastised.
There is no quarter shown them. Such a thing as
mercy is never dreamt of, —no sparing of lives any
more than if they were a pack of hyenas. The Bush-men
may escape to the rocks, such of them as are not
hit by the bullets ; and there the boers know it would be
idle to follow them. Like the klipspringer antelope, the
little savages can bound from rock to rock, and cliff
to cliff, or hide hke pai'tridges among crevices, where
neither man nor horse can pursue them. Even upon
the level plain— if it chance to be stony or intersected
with breaks and ravines—a horseman would endeavor
to overtake them in vain, for these yellow imps are as
swift as ostriches.
When the spoilers scatter thus, the boer may recover
his cattle, but in what condition ? That he has sur-mised
already, without going among the herd. He does
not expect to drive home one half of them ; perhaps not
one head. On reaching the flock he finds there is not
one without a wound of some kind or other : a gash in
28 BOSJESMEN, OR
the flank, the cut of a knife, the stab of an assagai, or a
poisoned arrow —intended for the boer himself—stick-ing
between the ribs. This is the sad spectacle that
meets his ejes ; but he never reflects that it is the result
of his own cruelty,—he never regards it in the hght of
retribution. Had he not first hunted the Bushman to
make him a slave, to make bondsmen and bondsmaids
of his sons and daughters, to submit them to the ca-price
and tyranny of his great, strapping frau^ perhaps
his cattle would have been browsing quietly in his fields.
The poor Bushman, in attempting to take them, followed
but his instincts of hunger: in yielding them up he
obeyed but the promptings of revenge.
It is not always that the Bushman is thus overtaken.
He frequently succeeds in carrying the whole herd to
his desert fastness ; and the skill which he exhibits in
getting them there is perfectly surprising. The cattle
themselves are more afraid of him than of a wild beast,
and run at his approach ; but the Bushman, swifter than
they, can glide all around them, and keep them moving
at a rapid rate.
He uses stratagem also to obstruct or baffle the pur-suit.
The route he takes is through the driest part of
the desert,—if possible, where water does not exist at
all. The cattle suffer from thirst, and bellow from the
pain ; but the Bushman cares not for that, so long as he
is himself served. But how is he served ? There is no
water, and a Bushman can no more go without drink-ing
than a boer : how then does he provide for himself
on these long expeditions ?
All has been pre-arranged. While off to the settle-ments,
the Bushman's wife has been busy. The whole
BUsmiEN. 29
kraal of women— young and old—have made an ex-cursion
half-way across the desert, each carrymg ostrich
egg-shells, as much as her kaross will hold, each shell
fuU of water. These have been deposited at intervals
along the route in secret spots known by mai'ks to the
Bushmen, and this accompHshed the women return home
again. In this way the plunderer obtains his supply of
water, and thus is he enabled to continue his journey
over the arid Karroo.
The pursuers become appalled. They are suffering
from thirst—their horses sinking under them. Perhaps
they have lost their way ? It would be madness to pro-ceed
further. " Let the cattle go this time ! " and with
this disheartening reflection they give up the pursuit,
turn the heads of their horses, and ride homeward.
There is a feast at the Bushman's kraal—and such a
feast ! not one ox is slaughtered, but a score of them all
at once. They kill them, as if from very wantonness
;
and they no longer eat, but raven on the flesh.
For days the feasting is kept up ahnost continuously,
—- even at night they must wake up to have a midnight
meal ! and thus runs the tale, till every ox has been eaten.
They have not the sHghtest idea of a provision for the fu-ture
; even the lower animals seem wiser in this respect.
They do not think of keeping a few of the plundered
cattle at pasture to serve them for a subsequent occasion.
They give the poor brutes neither food nor drink ; but,
having penned them up in some defile of the rocks, leave
them to moan and bellow, to drop down and die.
On goes the feasting, till all are finished ; and even if
the flesh has turned putrid, this forms not the slightest
objection : it is eaten all the same.
30 BOSJESMEN, OR
The kraal now exhibits an ahered spectacle. The
starved, meagre wretches, who were seen flitting among
its tents but a week ago, have all disappeared. Plump
bodies and distended abdomens are the order of the day
;
and the profile of the Bushwoman, taken from the neck
to the knees, now exhibits the outline of the letter S.
The little imps leap about, tearing raw flesh, —their
yellow cheeks besmeared with blood,—and the lean curs
seem to have been exchanged for a pack of fat, petted
poodles.
But this scene must some time come to an end, and at
length it does end. All the flesh is exhausted, and the
bones picked clean. A complete reaction comes over the
spirit of the Buslunan. He falls into a state of languor, —the only time when he knows such a feeling,—and
he keeps his kraal, and remains idle for days. Often he
sleeps for twenty-four hours at a time, and wakes only
to go to sleep again. He need not rouse himself with the
idea of getting something to eat : there is not a morsel
in the whole kraal, and he knows it. He hes still, there-fore,
—weakened with hunger, and overcome with the
drowsiness of a terrible lassitude.
Fortunate for him, while in this state, if those bold
vultures — attracted by the debris of his feast, and now
high wheeling in the air—be not perceived from afar ;
fortunate if they do not discover the whereabouts of his
kraal to the vengeful pursuer. If they should do so,
he has made his last foray and his last feast.
When the absolute danger of starvation at length
compels our Bushman to bestir himself, he seems to
recover a little of his energy, and once more takes to
hunting, or, if near a stream, endeavors to catch a few
BUSHMEN. 31
fish. Should both these resources fail, he has another,—
without which he would most certainly starve,—and
perhaps this maybe considered his most important
source of supply, since it is the most constant, and can
be depended on at nearly all seasons of the year. Weak-ened
with hunger, then, and scai'ce equal to any severer
labor, he goes out hunting — this time itisects, not quad-rupeds.
With a stout stick inserted into a stone at one
end and pointed at the other, he proceeds to the nests
of the white ants (termites), and using the point of the
stick, — the stone serving by its weight to aid the force
of the blow, —he breaks open the hard, gummy clay of
which the liillock is formed. Unless the aard-varh and
the pangolin—two very different kinds of ant-eaters—
have been there before him, he finds the chambers filled
with the eggs of the ants, the insects themselves, and
perhaps large quantities of their larvce. All are equally
secured by the Bushman, and either devoured on the
spot, or collected into a skin bag, and carried back to
his kraal.
He hunts also another species of ants that do not build
nests or " hillocks," but bring forth their young in hol-lows
under the ground. These make long galleries or
covered ways just under the surface, and at certain pe-riods
— which the Bushman knows by unmistakable
signs —they become very active, and traverse these
underground galleries in thousands. If the passages
were to be opened above, the ants would soon make off to
their caves, and but a very few could be captured. The
Bushman, knowing this, adopts a stratagem. With the
stick already mentioned he pierces holes of a good depth
down ; and works the stick about, until the sides of the
32 BOSJESMEN, OR
holes are smooth and even. These he mtends shall serve
hun as pitfalls ; and thej are therefore made in the cov-ered
ways along which the insects are passing. The
result is, that the httle creatures, not suspecting the ex-istence
of these deep wells, tumble head foremost into
them, and are unable to mount up the steep smooth sides
again, so that in a few minutes the hole will be filled
with ants, wliich the Bushman scoops out at his leisure.
Another source of supply which he has, and also a
pretty constant one, consists of various roots of the
tuberous kind, but more especially bulbous roots, which
grow in the desert. They are several species of Ixias
and Mesembryanthemums, — some of them producing
bulbs of a large size, and deeply buried underground.
Half the Buslunau's and Bushwoman's time is occupied
in digging for these roots ; and the spade employed is
the stone-headed staff already described.
Ostrich eggs also furnish the Bushman with many a
meal ; and the huge shells of these eggs serve him for
water-vessels, cups, and dishes. He is exceedingly ex-pert
in tracking up the ostrich, and discovering its nest.
Sometimes he finds a nest in the absence of the birds
;
and in a case of this kind he pursues a course of con-duct
that is peculiarly Bushman. Having removed all
the eggs to a distance, and concealed them under some
bush, he returns to the nest and ensconces himself in it.
His diminutive body, when close squatted, cannot be
perceived from a distance, especially when there are a
few bushes around the nest, as there usually are. Thus
concealed he awaits the return of the birds, holding
his bow and poisoned arrows ready to salute them as
soon as they come within range. By tliis ruse he is
BUSHMEN. 33
almost certain of killing either tlie cock or hen, and not
unfrequently both—when thej do not return together.
Lizards and land-tortoises often furnish the Bushman
with a meal ; and the shell of the latter serves him also
for a dish ; but his period of greatest plenty is when
the locusts ap'pear. Then, indeed, the Bushman is no
longer in want of a meal ; and while these creatures re-main
with him, he knows no hunger. He grows fat in
a trice, and his curs keep pace with him—for they too
greedily devour the locusts. Were the locusts a con-stant,
or even an annual visitor, the Bushman would be
a rich man — at all events his wants would be amply
supplied. Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for
everybody else, these terrible destroyers of vegetation
only come now and then—several years often inter-vening
between their visits.
The Bushmen have no rehgion whatever ; no form
of marriage—any more than mating together like wild
beasts ; but they appear to have some respect for the
memory of their dead, since they bury them—usually
erecting a large pile of stones, or "cairn," over the
body.
They are far from being of a melancholy mood.
Though crouching in their dens and caves during the
day, in dread of the boers and other enemies, they come
forth at night to chatter and make merry. During fine
moonhghts they dance all night, keeping up the hall till
morning ; and m their kraals may be seen a circular
spot—beaten hai'd and smooth with theu' feet—where
these dances are performed.
They have no form of government—not so much as
a head man or chief. Even the father of the family
2* c
34 BOSJESMEN, OR BUSHMEN.
possesses no authority, except such as superior strength
may give liim ; and when his sons are grown up and
become as strong as he is, this of course also ceases.
Tliey have no tribal organization ; the small com-munities
in which they live being merely so many in-dividuals
accidently brought together, often quarrelhng
and separating from one another. These communities
rarely number over a hundred individuals, since, from
the nature of their countiy, a large number could not
find subsistence in any one place. It follows, therefore,
that the Bushman race must ever remain widely scat-tered
— so long as they pursue their present mode of
life—and no influence has ever been able to v,^in them
from it. Missionary eflTorts made among them have all
proved fruitless. The desert seems to have been cre-ated
for them, as they for the desert ; and wlien trans-ferred
elsewhere, to dwell amidst scenes of civihzed hfe,
they always yearn to return to their wilderness home.
Truly are these pigmy savages an odd people !
THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
In glancing at the map of the American continent,
we are struck bj a remarkable analogy between the
geographical features of its two great divisions —the
xsorth and the South, — an analogy amounting almost
to a symmetrical parallelism.
Each has its " mighty " mountains —the Cordilleras
of the Andes in the south, and the Cordilleras of the
Sierra Madre (Rocky Mountains) in the north —with
all the varieties of volcano and eternal snow. Each has
its secondary chain : in the north, the Nevadas of Cali-fornia
and Oregon ; in the south, the Sierras of Carac-cas
and the group of Guiana ; and, if you wish to
render the parallehsm complete, descend to a lower ele-vation,
and set the Alleghanies of the United States
against the mountains of Brazil—both alike detached
from all the others.
In the comparison we have exhausted the mountain-chains
of both divisions of the continent. If we pro-ceed
further, and carry it mto minute detail, we shall
find the same correspondence —ridge for ridge, chain
for chain, peak for peak ;—in short, a most singular
equihbrium, as if there had been a design that one half
of this o-reat continent should balance the other
!
36 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
From the mountains let us proceed to the rivers,
and see how they will correspond. Here, again, we dis-cover
a like parallelism, amounting almost to a rivahy;
Each continent (for it is proper to style them so) con-tains
the largest river in the world. If we make length
the standard, the north claims precedence for the Mis-sissippi
; if volume of water is to be the criterion, the
south is entitled to it upon the merits of the Amazon.
Each, too, has its numerous branches, spreading into a
mighty " tree " ; and these, either singly or combined,
form a curious equipoise both in length and magnitude.
We have only time to set Hst against list, tributaries of
the great northern river against tributaries of its great
southern compeer,—the Ohio and Ilhnois, the Yellow-stone
and Platte, the Kansas and Osage, the Arkansas
and Red, against the Madeira and Purus, the Ucayali
and Huallaga, the Japura and Negro, the Xingu and
Tapajos.
Of other river systems, the St. Lawrence may be
placed against the La Plata, the Oregon against the
Orinoco, the Mackenzie against the Magdalena, and
the Rio Bravo del Norte against the Tocantins ; while
the two Colorados—the Brazos and Alabama—find
their respective rivals in the Essequibo, the Paranahybo,
the Pedro, and the Patagonian Negro ; and the San
Francisco of Cahfornia, flowing over sands of gold, is
balanced by its homonyme of Brazil, that has its origin
in the land of diamonds. To an endless list might the
comparison be carried.
We pass to the plains. Prairies in the north, llanos
and pampas in the south, almost identical in character.
Of the plateaux or table-lands, those of Mexico, La
THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 37
Puebla, Perote, and silver Potosi in the north ; those of
Quito, Bogota, Cusco, and gold Potosi in the south ; of
the desert plains, Utah and the Llano Estacado against
Atacama and the deserts of Patagonia. Even the Great
Salt Lake has its parallel in Titicaca ; while the " Sali-nas
" of New Mexico and the upland prairies, are rep-resented
bj similar deposits in the Gran Chaco and the
Pampas.
We arrive finally at the forests. Though unlike in
other respects, we have here also a rivalry in magni-tude,
—between the vast timbered expanse stretching
from Arkansas to the Atlantic shores, and that which
covers the valley of the Amazon. These were the two
greatest forests on the face of the earth. I say were, for
one of them no longer exists ; at least, it is no longer a
continuous tract, but a collection of forests, opened by
the axe, and intersected by the clearings of the colonist.
The other still stands m all its virgin beauty and pri-meval
vigor, untouched by the axe, undefiled by fire, its
path scarce trodden by human feet, its silent depths to
this hour unexplored.
It is with this forest and its denizens we have to do.
Here then let us terminate the catalogue of simihtudes,
and concentrate our attention upon the particular subject
of our sketch.
The whole valley of the Amazon—in other words,
tlie tract watered by this great river and its tributaries —may be described as one unbroken forest. We now
know the borders of this forest with considerable exact-ness,
but to trace them here would require a too length-ened
detail. Suffice it to say, that lengthwise it extends
from the mouth of the Amazon to the foothills of the
38 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
Peravian Andes, a distance of 2,500 miles. In breadth
it vaiies, beo'innino- on the Atlantic coast with a breadth
of 400 miles, which widens towards the central part of
the continent till it attains to 1,500, and again narrowing
to about 1,000, where it touches the eastern slope of the
Andes.
That form of leaf known -to botanists as " obovate "
will give a good idea of the jfigure of the great Amazon
forest, supposing the small end or shank to rest on the
Atlantic, and the broad end to extend along the semi-circular
concavity of the Andes, from Bolivia on the
south to New Granada on the north. In all this vast
expan'fee of territory there is scarce an acre of open
ground, if we except the water-surface of the rivers and
their bordering " lagoons," which, were they to bear
their due proportions on a map, could scarce be repre-sented
by the narrowest lines, or the most inconspicuous
dots. The grass plains which embay the forest on its
southern edo;e along the banks of some of its Brazilian
tributaries, or those which proceed hke spurs from the
Llanos of Venezuela, do not in any place approach the
Amazon itself, and there are many points on the great
river which may be taken as centres, and around which
circles may be drawn, having diameters 1,000 miles in
length, the circumferences of which will enclose nothing
but timbered land. The main stream of the Amazon,
though it intersects this grand forest, does not hisect it,
speaking with mathematical precision. There is rather
more timbered surface to the southward than that which
extends northward, though the inequality of the two
divisions is not great. It would not be much of an error
to say that the Amazon river cuts the forest in halves.
THE A2IAZ0NIAN INDIANS. 39
At its mouth, however, this would not apply ; since for
the first 300 miles above the embouchure of the river,
the country on the northern side is destitute of timber.
This is occasioned by the projecting spurs of the Guiana
mountains, which on that side approach the Amazon in
the shape of naked ridges and grass-covered hills and
plains.
It is not necessary to say that the great forest of the
Amazon is a tropical one—since the river itself, through-out
its whole course, almost traces the line of the equator.
Its vegetation, therefore, is emphatically of a tropical
character ; and in this respect it differs essentially from
that of North America, or rather, we should say, of Can-ada
and the United States. It is necessary to make this
limitation, because the forests of the tropical parts of
North America, includmg the West-Indian islands, pre-sent
a great simihtude to that of the Amazon. It is not
only in the genera and species of trees that the sylva of
the temperate zone differs from that of the torrid ; but
there is a very remarkable difference in the distribution
of these genera and species. In a great forest of the
north, it is not uncommon to find a large tract covered
with a single species of trees,— as with pines, oaks,
poplars, or the red cedar (Juniperus Virginiand). This
arrangement is rather tlie rule than the exception
;
whereas, in the tropical forest, the rule is reversed, ex-cept
in the case of two or three species of palms {Mau-ritia
and Euterpe), which sometimes exclusively cover
laro;e tracts of surface. Of other trees, it is rare to find
even a clump or grove standing together—often only
two or three trees, and stUl more frequently, a single
individual is observed, separated from those of its own
40 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
kind by liimdreds of others, all differing in order, genus,
and species. I note this peculiarity of the tropic forest,
because it exercises, as may easily be imagined, a direct
influence upon the economy of its human occupants —
-
whether these be savage or civilized. Even the habits
of the lower animals—beasts and birds— are subject to
a similar influence.
It would be out of place here to enumerate the differ-ent
kinds of trees that compose this mighty wood,—a
bare catalogue of their names would alone fiU many
pages, —and it would be safe to say that if the hst were
given as now known to botanists, it would comprise
scarce half the species that actually exist in the valley
of the Amazon. In real truth, tliis vast Garden of God
is yet unexplored by man. Its border walks and edges
have alone been examined ; and the enthusiastic botanist
need not fear that he is too late in the field. A hundred
years will elapse before this grand parterre can be ex-hausted.
At present, a thorough examination of the botany of
the Amazon vaEey would be difficult, if not altogether
impossible, even though conducted on a grand and ex-pensive
scale. There are several reasons for this. Its
woods are in many places absolutely impenetrable—on
account either of the thick tangled undergrowth, or from
the damp, spongy nature of the soil. There are no
roads that could be traversed by horse or man ; and
the few paths are known only to the wild savage,—not
always passable even by him. Travelling can only be
done by water, either upon the great rivers, or by the
narrow creeks (igaripes) or lagoons ; and a journey per-formed
in this fashion must needs be both tedious and
THE AAIAZONIAN I]ST)IANS. 41
indirect, allowing but a limited opportunity for observa-tion.
Horses can scarce be said to exist in the country,
and cattle are equally rare —a few only are found in
one or two of the large Portuguese settlements on the
main river—and the jaguars and blood-sucking bats
offer a direct impediment to their increase. Contrary to
the general behef, the tropical forest is not the home of
the larger mammaha : it is not their proper habitat, nor
are they found in it. In the Amazon forest but few
species exist, and these not numerous in mdividuals.
There are no vast herds—as of buffaloes on the prai-ries
of North America, or of antelopes in Africa. The
tapir alone attains to any considerable size, — exceeding
that of the ass, —but its numbers are few. Three or
four species of small deer represent the ruminants, and
the hog of the Amazon is the peccary. Of these there
are at least three species. Where the forest impinges
on the mountain regions of Peru, bears are found of
at least two kinds, but not on the lower plaius of the
great " Montana," —for by this general designation is
the vast expanse of the Amazon country known among
the Peruvian people. "Montes" and "montanas," lit-erally
signifying " mountains," are not so understood
among Spanish Americans. With them the "montes"
and " montanas " are tracts of forest-covered country,
and that of the Amazon valley is the " Montana " par
excellence.
Sloths of several species, and opossums of still greater
variety, are found all over the Montana, but both thinly
distributed as regards the number of individuals. A
sirmlar remark appHes to the ant-eaters or " ant-bears,"
of which there are four kinds, —to the armadillos, the
42 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
" agoutis," and the " cavies," one of which last, the capi-hara,
is the largest rodent upon earth. This, with its
kindred genus, the " paca," is not so rare in individual
numbers, but, on the contrary, appears in large herds
upon the borders of the rivers and lagoons. A porcu-pine,
several species of spinous rats, an otter, two or
three kinds of badger-like animals (the potto and coatis),
a "honey-bear" (Galera harbara), and a fox, or wild
dog, are widely distributed tlu-oughout the Montana.
Everywhere exists the jaguar, both the black and
spotted varieties, and the puma has there his lurking-place.
Smaller cats, both spotted and striped, are nu-merous
in species, and squirrels of several kmds, with
bats, complete the list of the terrestrial mammaha.
Of all the lower animals, monkeys are the most
common, for to them the Montana is a congenial home.
They abound not only in species, but in the number
of individuals, and their ubiquitous presence contributes
to enhven the woods. At least tliirty different kinds
of them exist in the Amazon valley, from the " coatas,"
and other howlers as large as baboons, to the tiny little
" ouistitis " and " saimiris," not bigger than squuTels or
rats.
While we must admit a paucity in the species of the
quadrupeds of the Amazon, the same remark does not
aj)ply to the birds. In the ornithological department of
natural history, a fulness and richness here exist, per-haps
not equalled elsewhere. The most singular and
graceful forms, combined with the most briUiant plumage,
are everywhere presented to the eye, in the parrots and
great macaws, the toucans, trogons, and tanagers, the
shrikes, humming-birds, and orioles ; and even in the
THE A^IAZOXIAN INDIANS. 43
vultures and eagles : for here are found tlie most beau-tiful
of predatory birds, —the king vulture and the
harpy eagle. Of the feathered creatures existing in
the valley of the Amazon there are not less than one
thousand different sj^ecies, of which only one half have
yet been caught or described.
Reptiles ai'e equally abundant—the serpent family
being represented by numerous species, from the great
water boa (anaconda), often yards in length, to the tiny
and beautiful but venomous lachesis, or coral snake, not
thicker than the shank of a tobacco-pipe. The hzards
range through a like gradation, beginning with the huge
'"jacare," or crocodile, of several species, and ending
with the turquoise-blue anolius, not bigger than a newt.
The waters too are rich in species of their pecuHar
inhabitants —of which the most remarkable and valu-able
are the manatees (two or three species), the great
and smaller tiu-tles, the porpoises of various kinds, and
an endless catalogue of the finny tribes that frequent the
rivers of the tropics. It is mainly from this source, and
not from four-footed creatures of the forest, that the
human denizen of the great Montana draws his supply
of food, — at least that portion of it which may be
termed the " meaty." Were it not for the manatee, the
great porpoise, and other large fish, he would often have
to " eat his bread dry."
And now it is Ms turn to be " talked about." I need
not inform you that the aborigines who inhabit the
valley of the Amazon, are all of the so-called Indian
race — though there are so many distinct tribes of them
that almost every river of any considerable magnitude
has a tribe of its own. In some cases a number of these
44 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
tribes belong to one nationality ; tbat is, several of them
may be found speaking nearly the same language, though
living apart from each other ; and of these larger di-visions
or nationalities there are several occupying the
different districts of the Montana. The tribes even of
the same nationality do not always present a uniform
appearance. There are darker and fairer tribes ; some
in which the average standard of height is less than
among Europeans ; and others where it equals or ex-ceeds
this. There are tribes again where both men and
women are ill-shaped and ill-favored—though these are
few —- and other tribes where both sexes exhibit a con-siderable
degree of personal beauty. Sqme tribes are
even distinguished for their good looks, the men pre-senting
models of manly form, while the women are
equally attractive by the regularity of their features,
and the graceful modesty of expression that adorns them.
A minute detail of the many peculiarities in which
the numerous tribes of the Amazon differ from one
another would fill a large volume ; and in a sketch like
the present, which is meant to include them all, it would
not be possible to give such a detail. Nor indeed would
it serve any good purpose ; for although there are many
points of difference between the different tribes, yet these
are generally of shght importance, and are far more
than counterbalanced by the multitude of resemblances.
So numerous are these last, as to create a strong idio-syncrasy
in the tribes of the Amazon, which not only
entitles them to be classed together in an ethnological
point of view, but which separates them from all the
other Indians of America. Of course, the non-posses-sion
of the horse — they do not even know the anhnal
THE MIAZONIAN INDIANS. 45
— at once broadlj distinguishes them from the Horse
Indians, both of the Northern and Southern divisions of
the continent.
It would be idle here to discuss the question as to
whether the Amazonian Indians have all a common
origin. It is evident thej have not. "We know that
many of them are from Peru and Bogota—runaways
from Spanish oppression. We know that others mi-grated
from the south—equally fugitives from the still
more brutal and barbarous domination of the Portu-guese.
And still others were true aboriginals of the
soil, or if emigrants, when and whence came they?
An idle question, never to be satisfactorily answered.
There they now are, and as they are only shall we here
consider them.
Notwithstanding the different sources whence they
sprang, we find them, as I have already said, stamped
with a certain idiosyncrasy, the result, no doubt, of the
like circumstances which surround them. One or two
tribes alone, whose habits are somewhat " odder " than
the rest, have been treated to a separate chapter ; but
for the others, whatever is said of one, will, with very
slight alteration, stand good for the whole of the Ama-zonian
tribes. Let it be understood that we are dis-coursing
only of those known as the "Indios bravos,"
the fierce, brave, savage, or wild Indians — as you may
choose to translate the phrase,—a phrase used through-out
all Spanish America to distinguish those tribes, or
sections of tribes, who refused obedience to Spanish
tyranny, and who preserve to this hour their native in-dependence
and freedom. In contradistinction to the
" Indios bravos " are the " Indios mansos," or " tame
46 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
Indians," who submitted tamelj both to the cross and
sword, and now enjoy a rude demi-semi-civiiization, un-der
the joint protectorate of priests and soldiers. Be-tween
these two kinds of American aborigines, there
is as much difference as between a lord and his serf
—
the true savage representing the former and the demi-semi-
civilized savage approximating more nearly to the
latter. The meddling monk has made a complete fail-ure
of it. His ends were purely political, and the result
has proved ruinous to all concerned ;—instead of civil-izing
the savage, he has positively demoralized him.
It is not of his neophytes, the "Indios mansos," we
are now writing, but of the " infidels," who would not
hearken to his voice or listen to his teachings — those
who could never be brought within " sound of the bell."
Both " kinds " dwell within the valley of the Amazon,
but in different places. The " Indios mansos " may be
found along the banks of the main stream, from its
source to its mouth —but more especially on its upper
waters, where it runs through Spanish (Peruvian) ter-ritory.
There they dwell in little villages or collections
of huts, ruled by the missionary monk with iron rod,
and performing for him all the offices of the menial
slave. Their resources are few, not even equalling those
of their wild but independent brethren ; and their cus-toms
and rehgion exhibit a ludicrous melange of sav-agery
and civilization. Farther down the river, the
" Indio manso " is a " tapuio," a hireling of the Portu-guese,
or to speak more correctly, a slave ; for the latter
treats him as such, considers him as such, and though
there is a law against it, often drags him from his forest-home
and keeps him in life-long bondage. Any human
THE AiilAZONIAN INDIANS. 47
law AYOuld be a dead letter among such wliite-skins as
are to be encountered upon the banks of the Amazon.
Fortunately they are but few ; a to^Mi or two on the
lower Amazon and Rio Negro, — some wretched vil-lages
between, — scattered estancias along the banks —
with here and there a paltry post of " militarios," dig-nified
by the name of a " fort : " these alone speak the
progress of the Portuguese civilization throughout a pe-riod
of three centuries !
From all these settlements the wild Indian keeps
away. He is never found near them — he is never
seen by travellers, not even by the settlers. You may
descend the mighty Amazon from its source to its mouth,
and not once set your eyes upon the true son of the
forest— the " Indio bravo." Coming in contact only
vdth. the neophyte of the Spanish missionary, and the
skulking tapuio of the Portuguese trader, you might
bring away a very erroneous impression of the charac-ter
of an Amazonian Indian.
Where is he to be seen ? where dwells he ? what-hke
is his home ? what sort of a house does he build ? His
costume ? his arms ? his occupation ? his habits ? These
are the questions you would put. They shall all be
answered, but briefly as possible — since our limited
space requires brevity.
The wild Indian, then, is not to be found upon the
Amazon itself, though there are long reaches of the
river where he is free to roam —hundreds of miles
without either town or estancia. He hunts, and occa-sionally
fishes by the great water, but does not there
make his dwelling—though in days gone by, its shores
were his favorite place of residence. These happy days
48 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
were before the time when Orellana floated do^yn past
the door of his " malocea "—before that dark hour when
the Brazihan slave-hunter found his way into the waters
of the mightj Solimoes. This last event was the cause
of his disappearance. It drove him from the shores of
his beloved river-sea ; forced him to withdraw his dwell-ing
from observation, and rebuild it far up, on those
tributaries where he might live a more peaceful life,
secure from the trafficker in human flesh. Hence it is
that the home of the Amazonian Indian is now to be
sought for —not on the Amazon itself, but on its tribu-tary
streams — on the " canos " and " igaripes," the ca-nals
and lagoons that, with a labjrinthine ramification,
intersect the mighty forest of the Montana. Here dwells
he, and here is he to be seen by any one bold enough to
visit him in his fastness home.
How is he domiciled ? Is there anything peculiar
about the style of his house or his village ?
Eminently pecuhar ; for in this respect he differs from
all the other savage people of whom we have yet written,
or of whom we may have occasion to write.
Let us proceed at once to describe his dwelling. It is
not a tent, nor is it a hut, nor a cabin, nor a cottage, nor
yet a cave ! His dwelling can hardly be termed a house,
nor his village a collection of houses —since both house
and village are one and the same, and both are so pe-culiar,
that we have no name for such a structure in
civilized lands, unless we should call it a " barrack."
But even this appellation would give but an erroneous
idea of the Amazonian dwelling ; and therefore we shall
use that by which it is known in the " Lingoa geral,"
and call it a malocea.
THE MIAZONIAN INDIANS. 49
Bj such name is his house (or village rather) known
among the tapuios and traders of the Amazon. Since
it is both house and village at the same time, it must
needs be a large structure ; and so is it, large enough to
contain the whole tribe — or at least the section of it
that has chosen one particular spot for their residence.
It is the property of the whole community, built by the
labor of all, and used as their common dwelling—
though each family has its own section specially set
apart for itself It will thus be seen that the Amazo-nian
savage is, to some extent, a disciple of the Social-ist
school.
I have not space to enter into a minute account of the
architecture of the malocca. Suffice it to say, that it is
an immense temple-like building, raised upon timber
uprights, so smooth and straight as to resemble columns.
The beams and rafters are also straight and smooth, and
are held in their places by " sipos " (tough creeping
plants), which are whipped around the joints with a
neatness and compactness equal to that used in the rig-ging
of a ship. The roof is a thatch of palm-leaves,
laid on with great regularity, and brought very low down
at the eaves, so as to give to the whole structure the ap-pearance
of a gigantic beehive. The walls are built of
split palms or bamboos, placed so closely together as to
be impervious to either bullet or arrows.
The plan is a parallelogram, with a semicircle at one
end ; and the building is large enough to accommodate
the whole community, often numbering more than a
hundi-ed individuals. On grand festive occasions several
neighboring communities can find room enough in it—
even for dancing—and three or four hundred individuals
3 . D
50 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
not unfrequentlj assemble under the roof of a single
malocca.
Inside the arrangements are curious. There is a wide
hall or avenue in the middle —that extends from end to
end throughout the whole length of the parallelogram —and on both sides of the hall is a row of partitions,
separated from each other by split palms or canes, closely
placed. Each of these sections is the abode of a family,
and the place of deposit for the hammocks, clay pots,
calabash-cups, dishes, baskets, weapons, and ornaments,
which are the private property of each. The hall is
used for the larger cooking utensils—such as the great
clay ovens and pans for baking the cassava, and boiling
the caxire or chicha. This is also a neutral ground,
where the children play, and where the dancing is done
on the occasion of grand " balls " and other ceremonial
festivals.
The common doorway is in the gable end, and is six
feet wide by ten in height. It remains open during the
day, but is closed at night by a mat of palm fibre sus-pended
from the top. There is another and smaller
doorway at the semicircular end; but this is for the
private use of the chief, who appropriates the whole
section of the semicircle to himself and his family.
Of course the above is only the general outline of a
malocca. A. more particular description would not an-swer
for that of all the tribes of the Amazon. Among
different communities, and in different parts of the Mon-tana,
the malocco varies in size, shape, and the materials
of which it is built ; and there are some tribes who hve
in separate huts. These exceptions, however, are few,
and as a general thing, that above described is the style
THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 51
of habitation tliroughout the whole Montana, from the
confines of Peru to the shores of the Atlantic. North
and south we encounter this singular house-village, from
the head-waters of the Rio Negro to the highlands of
Brazil.
Most of the Amazonian tribes follow agriculture, and
understood the art of tillage before the coming of the
Spaniards. They practise it, however, to a very hm-ited
extent. They cultivate a little manioc, and know
how to manufacture it into farinha or cassava bread.
They plant the musacecR and yam, and understand the
distillation of various drinks, both from the plantain and
several kinds of palms. They can make pottery from
clay,—shaping it into various forms, neither rude nor
inelegant, —and from the trees and parasitical twiners
that surround their dwellings, they manufacture an end-less
variety of neat implements and utensils.
Their canoes are hollow trunks of trees sufficiently
well shaped, and admirably adapted to their mode of
travelling —which is almost exclusively by water, by
the numerous canos and igaripes, which are the roads
and paths of their country — often as narrow and intri-cate
as paths by land.
The Indians of the tropic forest dress in the very light-est
costume. Of course each tribe has its own fashion ;
but a mere belt of cotton cloth, or the inner bark of a
tree, passed round the waist and between the limbs, is
all the covering they care for. It is the guayuco. Some
wear a skirt of tree-bark, and, on grand occasions, feather
tunics are seen, and also plume head-dresses, made of the
brilliant wing and tail feathers of parrots and macaws.
Circlets of these also adorn the arms and hmbs. All the
52 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
tribes paint, using tlie anotto, caruto, and several other
dyes which thej obtain from various kinds of trees, else-where
more particularly described.
There are one or two tribes who tattoo their skins
;
but this strange practice is far less common among the
American Indians than with the natives of the Pacific
isles.
In the manufacture of their various household utensils
and implements, as well as their weapons for war and the
chase, many tribes of Amazonian Indians display an in-genuity
that would do credit to the most accomplished
artisans. The hammocks made by them have been ad-mired
everywhere ; and it is from the valley of the Ama-zon
that most of these are obtained, so much prized
in the cities of Spanish and Portuguese America. They
are the special manufacture of the women, the men only
employing their mechanical skill on their weapons.
The hammock, " rede," or " maqueira," is manufac-tured
out of strings obtained from the young leaves of
several species of palms. The astroearyum, or " tucum "
palm furnishes this cordage, but a still better quality is
obtained from the "miriti" {Mauritia jiexuosa). The
unopened leaf, which forms a thick pointed column grow-ing
up out of the crown of the tree, is cut off at the base,
and this being pulled apart, is shaken dexterously until
ithe tender leaflets faU out. These being stripped of
their outer covering, leave behind a thin tissue of a pale-yellowish
color, which is the fibre for making the cordage.
After being tied in bundles this fibre is left awhile to
dry, and is then twisted by being rolled between the hand
and the hip or thigh. The women perform this process
with great dexterity. Taking two strands of fibre between
THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 53
the forefinger and thumb of the left hand, they lay them
separated a little along the thigh ; a roll downward gives
them a twist, and then being adroitly brought together, a
roll upwards completes the making of the cord. Fifty
fathoms in a day is considered a good day's spinning.
The cords are afterwards dyed of various colors, to ren-der
them more ornamental when woven into the ma-queira.
The making of this is a simple process. Two horizon-tal
rods are placed at about seven feet apart, over which
the cord is passed some fifty or sixty times, thus forming
the " woof." The warp is then worked in by knotting
the cross strings at equal distances apart, until there are
enouo-h. Two strons; cords are then inserted where the
rods pass through, and these being firmly looped, so as
to draw all the parallel strings together, the rod is pulled
out, and the hammock is ready to be used.
Of course, with very fine " redes," and those intended
to be disposed of to the traders, much pains are taken in
the selection of the materials, the dyeing the cord, and
the weaving it into the hanamock. Sometimes very ex-pensive
articles are made ornamented with the brilliant
feathers of birds cunningly woven among the meshes and
along the borders.
Besides making the hammock, which is the universal
couch of the Amazonian Indian, the women also manu-facture
a variety of beautiful baskets. Many species of
palms and calamus supply them with materials for this
purpose, one of the best being the " lu " palm (Astroca-ryum
acaule). They also make many implements and
utensils, some for cultivating the plantains, melons, and
manioc root, and others for manufacturing the last-named
54 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
vegetable into their favorite "farinlia" (cassava). The
Indians understood how to separate the poisonous juice
of this valuable root from its wholesome farina before
the arrival of white men among them ; and the process
by which they accomplish this purpose has remained
without change up to the present hour, in fact, it is almost
the same as that practised by the Spaniards and Portu-guese,
who simply adopted the Indian method. The
work is performed by the women, and thus: the roots
are brought home from the manioc " patch " in baskets,
and then washed and peeled. The peehng is usually
performed by the teeth ; after that the roots are grated,
the grater being a large wooden slab about three feet
long, a foot wide, a httle hollowed out, and the hollow
part covered all over with sharp pieces of quartz set in
regular diamond-shaped patterns. Sometime a cheaper
grater is obtained by using the aerial root of the pashiuba
palm (Iriartea exhorhiza), which, being thickly covered
over with hard spinous protuberances, serves admirably
for the purpose.
The grated pulp is next placed to dry upon a sieve,
made of the rind of a water-plant, and is afterwards put
into a long elastic cylinder-shaped basket or net, of the
bark of the " jacitara " palm {Desmoncus macroacan-thus).
This i&the tipiti ; and at its lower end there is
a strong loop, through which a stout pole is passed;
while the tipiti itself, when filled with pulp, is hung up
to the branch of a tree, or to a firm peg in the wall.
One end of the pole is then rested against some project-ing
point, that serves as a fulcrum, while the Lidian
woman, having seated herself upon the other end, with
her infant in her arms, or perhaps some work m her
THE AJIAZONIAN INDIANS. 55
hands, acts as the lever power. Her weight draws the
sides of the tipiti together, until it assumes the form
of an inverted cone ; and thus the juice is gradually
pressed out of the pulp, and drops into a vessel placed
underneath to receive it. The mother must be careful
that the httle imp does not escape from under her eye,
and perchance quench its thirst out of the vessel below.
If such an accident were to take place, in a very few
minutes she would have to grieve for a lost child ; since
the sap of the manioc root, the variety most cultivated
by the Indians, is a deadly poison. This is the " yuc-ca
amarga," or bitter manioc ; the " yucca dulce," or
sweet kind, being quite hinoxious, even if eaten in its
raw state.
The remainder of the process consists in placing the
grated pulp —now sufficiently dry—on a large pan
or oven, and submitting it to the action of the fire. It
is then thought sufficiently good for Indian use ; but
much of it is afterwards prepared for commerce, under
different names, and sold as semonilla (erroneously called
semoUnci), sago, and even as arrowroot.
At the bottom of that poisonous tub, a sediment has
all the while been forming. That is ih^ starch of the
manioc root—the tapioca of commerce : of course that
is not throT\Ti away.
The men of the tropic forest spend their lives in
doing very little. They are idle and not much disposed
to work—only when war or the chase calls them forth
do they throw aside for awhile theu' indolent habit, and
exhibit a httle activity.
They hunt with the bow and arrow, and fish with a
harpoon spear, nets, and sometimes by poisoning the
56 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
water with the juice of a vine called barbasco. The
" peixe boy," " vaca marina," or " manatee,"—all three
names being sjnonymes—is one of the chief animals of
their .pursuit. All the waters of the Amazon valley
abound with manatees, probably of several species, and
these large creatures are captured by the harpoon, just
as seals or wabus are taken. Porpoises also frequent
the South-American rivers ; and large fresh-water fish
of numerous species. The game hunted by the Ama-zonian
Indians can scarcely be termed noble. We have
seen that the large mammalia are few, and thinly dis-tributed
in the tropical forest. "With the exception of
the jaguar and peccary, the chase is Hmited to small
quadrupeds —as the capibara, the paca, agouti —to
many kinds of monkeys, and an immense variety of
birds. The monkey is the most common game, and is
not only eaten by all the Amazonian Indians, but by
most of them considered as the choicest of food.
In procuring their game the hunters sometimes use
the common bow and arrow, but most of the tribes are
in possession of a weapon which they prefer to all others
for this particular purpose. It is an implement of death
so original in its character and so singular in its con-struction
as to deserve a special and minute description.
The weapon I allude to is the "blow-gun," called
"pucuna" by the Indians themselves, "gravitana" by
the Spaniards, and " cerbatana " by the Portuguese of
Brazil.
When the Amazonian Indian wishes to manufacture
for himself a pucuna he goes out into the forest and
searches for two tall, straight stems of the "j)ashiuba
miri" palm (Jriartea setigera). These he requh-es of
THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 57
such thickness that one can be contained within the other.
Havmg found what he wants, he cuts both down and
carries them home to his molocca. Neither of them is
of such dimensions as to render this either impossible or
difficuh.
He now takes a long slender rod—already prepared
for the purpose—and with this pushes out the pith
from both stems, just as boys do when preparing their
pop-guns from the stems of the elder-tree. The rod
thus used is obtamed from another species of Iriartea
palm, of which the wood is very hard and tough, A
little tuft of fern-root, fixed upon the end of the rod, is
then drawn backwai'd and forward through the tubes,
until both are cleared of any pith which may have ad-hered
to the interior; and both are polished by this
process to the smoothness of ivory. The palm of
smaller diameter, being scraped to a proper size, is now
inserted into the tube of the larger, the object being to
correct any crookedness in either, should there be such
;
and if this does not succeed, both are whipped to some
straight beam or post, and thus left till they become
straight. One end of the bore, from the nature of the
tree, is always smaller than the other ; and to this end
is fitted a mouth-piece of two peccary tusks to concen-trate
the breath of the hunter when blowing into the
tube. The other end is the muzzle ; and near this, on
the top, a sight is placed, usually a tooth of the " paca "
or some other rodent animal. This sight is glued on
with a gum which another tropic tree furnishes. Over
the outside, when desirous of giving the weapon an
ornamental finish, the maker winds spirally a shining
creeper, and then the pucuna is ready for action.
58 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
Sometimes only a single shank of palm is used, and
instead of the pith being pushed out, the stem is split
into two equal parts throughout its whole extent. The
heart substance being then removed, the two pieces are
brought together, hke the two divisions of a cedarwood
pencil, and tightly bound with a sipo.
The pucuna is usually about an inch and a half in
diameter at the thickest end, and the bore about equal
to that of a pistol of ordinary cahbre. In length, how-ever,
the weapon varies from eight to twelve feet.
This singular instrument is designed, not for propel-ling
a bullet, but an arrow ; but as this arrow differs
altogether from the common kind it also needs to be
described.
The blow-gun arrow is about fifteen or eighteen
inches long, and is made of a piece of spHt bamboo
;
but when the " patawa " palm can be found, this tree
furnishes a still better material, in the long spines that
grow out from the sheathing bases of its leaves. These
are 18 inches in length, of a black color, flattish though
perfectly straight. Being cut to the proper length—
which most of them are without cutting—they are
whittled at one end to a sharp point. This point is
dipped about three inches deep in the celebrated
" curare " poison ; and just where the poison mark ter-minates,
a notch is made, so that the head will be easily
broken off when the arrow is in the wound. Near the
other end a little soft down of silky cotton (the fioss of
the hombax ceihd) is twisted around into a smooth mass
of the shape of a spinning-top, with its larger end
towards the nearer extremity of the arrow. The cotton
is held in its place by being lightly wliipped on by the
THE AMAZONLIN IXDL4.NS. 59
delicate thread or fibre of a hromelia, and the mass is
just big enough to fill the tube by gently pressing it
inward.
The arrow thus made is inserted, and whenever the
game is within reach the Indian places his mouth to the
lower end or mouthpiece, and with a strong " puff,''
which practice enables him to give, he sends the little
messenger upon its deadly errand. He can hit with un-erring
aim at the distance of forty or fifty paces ; but he
prefers to shoot in a direction nearly vertical, as in that
way he can take the surest aim. As his common game —birds and monkeys —are usually perched upon the
higher branches of tall trees, their situation just suits
him. Of course it is not the mere wound of the arrow
that kills these creatures, but the poison, which in two
or three minutes after they have been hit, wall bring
either bird or monkey to the ground. When the latter
is struck he would be certain to draw out the arrow ; but
the notch, ah-eady mentioned, provides against this, as
the shghtest wrench serves to break off the envenomed
head.
These arrows are dangerous things, — even for the
manufacturer of them to play with : they are therefore
carried in a quiver, and with great care,—the quiver
consisting either of a bamboo joint or a neat wicker
case.
The weapons of war used by the forest tribes are the
common bow and arrows, also tipped with curare, and
the " macana," or war-club, a species pecuhar to South
America, made out of the hard heavy wood of the pissaba
palm. Only one or two tribes use the spear ; and both
the " bolas " and lazo are quite unknown, as such
60 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS.
weapons would not be available among the trees of the
forest. These are the proper arms of the Horse In-dian,
the dweller on the open plains ; but without them,
for all war purposes, the forest tribes have weapons
enough, and, unfortunately, make a too frequent use of
them.
THE WATER-DWELLERS OF MARACAIBO.
The Andes mountains, rising in the extreme southern
point of South America, not only extend throughout the
whole length of that continent, but continue on through
Central America and Mexico, under the name of " Cor-dilleras
de Sierra Madre ;
" and still farther north to the
shores of the Arctic Sea, under the very inappropriate
appellation of the " Rocky Mountains." You must not
suppose that these stupendous mountains form one con-tinuous
elevation. At many places they furcate into
various branches, throwing off spurs, and sometime paral-lel
" sierras," between which lie wide " valles," or level
plains of great extent. It is upon these high plateaux —many of them elevated 7,000 feet above the sea —
that the greater part of the Spanish-American population
dwells ; and on them too are found most of the large
cities of Spanish South America and Mexico.
These parallel chains meet at different points, forming
what the Peruvians term " nodas " (knots) ; and, after
continuing for a distance in one great cordiUera, again
bifurcate. One of the most remarkable of these bifurca-tions
of the Andes occurs about latitude 2° N. There the
gigantic sierra separates into two great branches, forming
62 ' THE WATER-DWELLEES
a shape like the letter Y, the left limb being that which
is usually regarded as the main continuation of these
mountains through the Isthmus of Panama, while the
right forms the eastern boundary of the great valley of
the Magdalena river ; and then, trending in an eastwardly
direction along the whole northern coast of South Amer-ica
to the extreme point of the promontory of Paria.
Each of these limbs again forks mto several branches
or spurs, —the whole system forming a figure that may
be said to bear some resemblance to a genealogical tree
containing the pedigree of four or five generations.
It is only with one of the bifurcations of the right or
eastern sierra that this sketch has to do. On reaching
the latitude of 7° north, this chain separates itself into
two wings, which, after diverging widely to the east and
west, sweep round again towards each other, as if desir-ous
to be once more united. The western wing advances
boldly to this reunion ; but the eastern, after vacillating
for a time, as if uncertain what com-se to take, turns its
back abruptly on its old comrade, and trends off in a due
east direction, till it sinks into insignificance upon the
promontory of Paria.
The whole mass of the sierra, however, has not been,
of one mind ; for, at the time of its indecision, a large
spur detaches itself from the main body, and sweeps
round, as if to carry out the union with the left wing
advancing from the west. Although they get witliin
sight of each other, they are not permitted to meet,—
both ending abruptly before the circle is completed, and
forming a figure bearing a very exact resemblance to
the shoe of a racehorse. Within tliis curving boundary
Is enclosed a vast valley,—as large as the whole of
OF MAKACAIBO. 63
Ireland,—;the central portion of which, and occupying
about one third of its whole extent, is a sheet of water,
known from the days of the discovery of America, as
the Lake of Maracaiho.
It obtained this appellation from the name of an Indian
cazique, who was met upon its shores by the first discov-erers
; but although this lake was known to the earliest
explorers of the New "World,—although it lies contigu-ous
to many colonial settlements both on the mainland
and the islands of the Caribbean Sea, —the lake itself,
and the vast territory that surrounds it, remain almost as
unknown and obscure as if they were situated among the
central deserts of Africa.
And yet the valley of Maracaibo is one of the most
interesting portions of the globe,—interesting not only
as a terra incognita, but on account of the diversified
nature of its scenery and productions. It possesses a
fauna of a pecuhar kind, and its flora is one of the rich-est
in the world, not sm-passed,—perhaps not equalled, —by that of any other portion of the torrid zone. To
give a hst of its vegetable productions would be to
enumerate almost every species belonging to tropical
America. Here are found the well-known medicinal
plants, — the sassafras and sarsaparilla, guaiacum, co-paiva,
cinchona, and cuspa, or Cortex Angosturce ; here
are the deadly poisons of hariasco and mavacure, and
alongside them the remedies of the " palo sano," and
mihania guaco. Here hkewise gi'ow plants and trees
producing those well-known dyes of commerce, the blue
indigo, the red arnotto, the lake-colored chica, the brazil-letto,
and dragon's-blood ; and above all, those woods of
red, gold, and ebon tints, so precious in the eyes of the
cabinet and musical-instrument makers of Europe.
64 THE WATEE-DWELLEES
Yet, strange to say, these rich resources lie, Hke treas-ures
buried in the bowels of the earth, or gems at the
bottom of the sea, still undeveloped. A few small lum-bering
estabhshments near the entrance of the lake, —
here and there a miserable village, supported by a little
coast commerce in dye-woods, or cuttings of ebony, —
now and then a hamlet of fishermen, —a " hato " of
goats and sheep ; and at wider intervals, a " ganaderia "
of cattle, or a plantation of cocoa-trees (cocale), furnish
the only evidence that man has asserted his dominion
over this interesting region. These settlements, however,
are sparsely distributed, and widely distant from one
another. Between them stretch broad savannas and
forests,—vast tracts, untilled and even unexplored,
—
a very wilderness, but a wilderness rich m natural re-sources.
The Lake of Maracaibo is often, though erroneously,
described as an arm of the sea. This description only
applies to the Gulf of Maracaiho, which is in reality a
portion of the Caribbean Sea. The lake itself is alto-gether
diiFerent, and is a true fresh-water lake, separated
from the gulf by a narrow neck or strait. Within this
strait — called " boca," or mouth —the salt water does
not extend, except during very high tides or after long-continued
nortes (north winds), which have the eJBfect of
driving the sea-water up into the lake, and imparting to
some portions of it a saline or brackish taste. This,
however, is only occasional and of temporary contin-uance
; and the waters of the lake, supphed by a hundred
streams from the horseshoe sierra that surrounds it, soon
return to their normal character of freshness.
The shape of Lake Maracaibo is worthy of remark.
OF MAEACAIBO. 65
The main body of its surface is of oval outline, —the
longer diameter rmming north and south,—but taken in
connection with the straits which communicate with the
outer gulf, it assumes a shape somewhat like that of a
Jew's-harp, or rather of a kind of guitar, most in use
among Spanish Americans, and known under the name
of " mandohn " (or " bandolon "). To this instrument do
the natives sometimes compare it.
Another pecuharity of Lake Maracaibo, is the extreme
shallowness of the water along its shores. It is deep
enough towards the middle part ; but at many points
around the shore, a man may wade for miles into the
water, without getting beyond his depth. This pecu-liarity
ai'ises from the formation of the valley in which
it is situated. Only a few spurs of the sierras that
surround it approach near the edge of the lake. Gen-erally
from the bases of the mountains, the land slopes
with a very gentle dechnation, — so slight as to have the
appearance of a perfectly horizontal plain,—and this is
continued for a great way under the surface of the water.
Strange enough, however, after getting to a certain dis-tance
from the shore, the shoal water ends as abruptly as
the escarpment of a chff, and a depth almost unfathomable
succeeds, — as if the central part of the lake was a vast
subaqueous ravine, bounded on both sides by precipitous
cliffs. Such, in reahty, is it beheved to be.
A singular phenomenon is observed in the Lake Mar-acaibo,
which, since the days of Columbus, has not only
puzzled the curious, but also the learned and scientific,
who have unsuccessfully attempted to explain it. This
phenomenon consists in the appearance of a remarkable
light, which shows itself in the middle of the night, and
E
66 THE WATER-DWELLERS
at a particular part of the lake, near its southern ex-tremity.
This hght bears some resemblance to the ignis
fatuus of our own marshes ; and most probably is^. a
phosphorescence of a similar nature, though on a much
grander scale, —since it is visible at a vast distance
across the open water. As it is seen universally in the
same direction, and appears fixed in one place, it serves
as a beacon for the fishermen and dye-wood traders w^ho
navigate the waters of the lake, —its longitude bemg
precisely that of the straits leading outward to the gulf.
Vessels that have strayed from their course, often regu-late
their reckoning by the mysterious " Farol de Mara-caibo"
(Lantern of Maracaibo),—for by this name is
the natural beacon known to the mariners of the lake.
Various explanations have been offered to account for
this singular phenomenon, but none seem to explain it in
a satisfactory manner. It appears to be produced by the
exhalations that arise from an extensive marshy tract
lying around the mouth of the river Zulia, and above
w^hich it universally shows itself. The atmosphere in
this quarter is usually hotter than elsewhere, and sup-posed
to be highly charged with electricity ; but what-ever
may be the chemical process which produces the
illumination, it acts in a perfectly silent manner. No
one has ever observed any explosion to proceed from it,
or the slightest sound connected with its occurrence.
Of all the ideas suggested by the mention of Lake
Maracaibo, perhaps none are so interesting as those that
relate to its native inhabitants, whose peculiar habits ^nd
modes of life not only astonished the early navigators,
but eventually gave its name to the lake itself, and to
the extensive province in which it is situated. When
OF MARACAIBO. 67
the Spanish discoverers, saihng around the shores of the
gulf, arrived near the entrance of Lake Maracaibo, they
saw, to their amazement, not only single houses, but
whole villages, apparently floating upon the water ! On
approacliing nearer, they perceived that these houses
were raised some feet above the surface, and supported
by posts or piles driven into the mud at the bottom.
The idea of Venice—that city built upon the sea, to
which they had been long accustomed—was suggested
by these superaqueous habitations ; and the name of
Venezuela (Little Venice) was at once bestowed upon
the coast, and afterwards apphed to the whole province
now known as the Repubhc of Venezuela.
Though the "water villages" then observed have
long since disappeared, many others of a similar kind
were afterwards discovered in Lake Maracaibo itself,
some of which are in existence to the present day.
Besides here and there an isolated habitation, situated
in some bay or " laguna," there are four principal vil-lages
upon this plan still in existence, each containing
from fifty to a hundi-ed habitations. The inhabitants of
some of these villages have been " Christianized," that
is, have submitted to the teaching of the Spanish mis-sionaries
; and one in particular is distinguished by
having its httle church—a regular ivater church—in
the centre, built upon piles, just as the rest of the
houses are, and only differing from the common dwel-lings
in being larger and of a somewhat more preten-tious
style. From the belfry of this curious ecclesias-tical
edifice a brazen bell may be heard at morn and
eve tolhng the " oracion " and " vespers," and declaring
over the wide waters of the lake that the authority of
68 THE WATER-DWELLERS
the Spanish monk has replaced the power of the cazique
amono; the Lidians of the Lake Maracaibo. Not to
all sides of the lake, however, has the cross extended
its conquest. Along its western shore roams the fierce
unconquered Goajiro, who, a true warrior, still main-tains
his independence ; and even encroaches upon the
usurped possessions both of monk and " militario."
The water-dweller, however, although of kindred race
with the Goajiro, is very different, both in his disposi-tion
and habits of life. He is altogether a man of
"peace, and might almost be termed a civilized being,—
that is, he follows a regular industrial calling, by which
he subsists. This is the calling of a fisherman, and in
no part of the world could he follow it with more cer-tainty
of success, since the waters which surround his
dwelling literally swarm with fish.
Lake Maracaibo has been long noted as the resort of
numerous and valuable species of the finny tribe, in the
capture of which the Indian fisherman finds ample oc-cupation.
He is betimes a fowler,—as we shall present-ly
see,—and he also sometimes indulges, though more
rarely, in the chase, finding game in the thick forests
or on the green savannas that surround the lake, or
border the banks of the numerous " riachos " (streams)
running into it. On the savanna roams the graceful
roebuck and the " venado," or South-American deer,
while along the river banks stray the capibara and the
stout tapir, undisturbed save by their fierce fehne ene-mies,
the puma and spotted jaguar.
But hunting excursions are not a habit of the water
Indian, whose calling, as already observed, is essentially
that of a fisherman and " fowler," and whose subsistence
OF LLAJIACAIBO. 69
IS mainly derived from two kinds of water-dwellers, like
himself—one with fins, living below the surface, and
denominated Jish ; another with -wings, usually resting
on the surface, and known as fowl. These two crea-tures,
of verj different kinds and of many different
species, form the staple and daily food of the Lidiau
of Maracaibo.
In an accaunt of his habits we shall begin by giving
a description of the mode in which he constructs his
singular dwelling.
Like other builders he begins by selecting the site.
This must be a place where the water is of no great
depth; and the farther from the shore he can find a
shallow spot the better for his purpose, for he has a
good reason for desiring to get to a distance from the
shore, as we shall presently see. Sometimes a sort of
subaqueous island, or elevated sandbank, is found, which
gives him the very site he is in search of. Having
pitched upon the spot, his next care is to procure a
certain number of tree-trunks of the proper length and
thickness to make "piles." Not every kind of timber
will serve for this purpose, for there are not many
sorts that would long resist decay and the wear and
tear of the water insects, with which the lake abounds.
Moreover, the building of one of these aquatic houses,
although it be only a rude hut, is a work of time and
labor, and it is desirable therefore to make it as per-manent
as possible. For this reason great care is taken
in the selection of the timber for the " piles."
But it so chances that the forests around the lake
ftimish the very thing itself, in the wood of a tree
known to the Spanish inhabitants as the "vera," or
70 THE WATER-DWELLERS
"palo sano," and to the natives as "guaiac." It is
one of the zygophyls of the genus Guaiacum, of which
there are many species, called by the -names of "iron-wood
" or " hgnum-vitge ; " but the species in question
is the tree lignum-vitse (^Guaiacum arhoreuni), which at-tains
to a height of 100 feet, with a fine umbrella-shaped
head, and bright orange flowers. Its wood is
so hard, that it will turn the edge of an axe, and the
natives beheve that if it be buried for a sufficient length
of time under the earth it will turn to iron ! Though
this befief is not hterally true, as regards the iron, it
is not so much of an exaggeration as might be sup-posed.
The "palo de fierro," when buried in the soil
of Maracaibo or immersed in the waters of the lake,
in reality does undergo a somewhat similar metamor-phose
; in other words, it turns into stone ; and the
petrified trunks of this wood are frequently met with
along the shores of the lake. What is still more singu-lar—
the piles of the water-houses often become petri-fied,
so that the dwelling no longer rests upon wooden
posts, but upon real columns of stone !
Knowing all this by experience, the Indian selects the
guaiac for his uprights, cuts them of the proper length ;
and then, launching them in the water, transports them
to the site of his dwelling, and fixes them in their places.
Upon this a platform is erected, out of split boards of
some less ponderous timber, usually the " ceiba," or
" silk-cotton tree " {Bomhax ceiha), or the " cedro negro "
(^Cedrela odoratd) of the order Meliacece. Both kinds
grow in abundance upon the shores of the lake, —and
the huge trunks of the former are also used by the water
Indian for the constructing of his canoe. -
OF MAEACAIBO. 71
The platfonn, or floor, being tlins established, about
two or three feet above the surface of the water, it then
onlj remains to erect the walls and cover them over with
a roof. The former are made of the slightest materials, —hght saphngs or bamboo poles, —usually left open at
the interstices. There is no winter or cold weather here, —why should the walls be thick ? There are heavy
rains, however, at certain seasons of the year, and these
require to be guarded against ; but this is not a difficult
matter, since the broad leaves of the " enea " and " vihai
"
(a species of Heliconid) serve the purpose of a roof just
as well as tiles, slates, or shingles. Nature in these parts
is bountiful, and provides her human creatures with a
spontaneous supply of every want. Even ropes and
cords she furnishes, for bindmg the beams, joists, and
rafters together, and holding on the thatch against the
most furious assaults of the wind. The numerous spe-cies
of creeping and twining plants (" Uianas " or " sipos ")
serve admirably for this purpose. They are apphed in
their green state, and when contracted by exsiccation
di^aw the timbers as closely together as if held by spikes
of iron. In this manner and of such materials does the
water Indian build his house.
Why he inhabits such a singular dwelling is a ques-tion
that requires to be answered. With the terraJirma
close at hand, and equally convenient for all purposes of
his calling, why does he not build his hut there ? So
much easier too of access would it be, for he could then
approach it either by land or by water ; whereas, in its
present situation, he can neither go awa;^ from liis house
or get back to it without the aid of his " periagua " (ca-noe).
Moreover, by buildmg on the beach, or by the
72 THE WATER-DWELLERS
edge of the woods, he would spare himself the labor of
transporting those heavy piles and setting them in their
places, — a work, as already stated, of no ordinary
magnitude. Is it for personal security against human
enemies, —for this sometimes drives a people to seek
singular situations for their homes ? No ; the Indian
of Maracaibo has his human foes, hke all other people ;
but it is none of these that have forced him to adopt
this strange custom. Other enemies ? wild beasts ? the
dreaded jaguar, perhaps ? No, nothing of this kind.
And yet it is in reality a Hving creature that drives him
to this resource, — that has forced him to flee from the
mainland and take to the water for security against its
attack, —a creature of such small dimensions, and ap-i
parently so contemptible in its strength, that you will
no doubt smile at the idea of its putting a strong man
to flight, —a Httle insect exactly the size of an English
gnat, and no bigger, but so formidable by means of its
poisonous bite, and its myriads of numbers, as to render
many parts of the shores of Lake Maracaibo quite un-inhabitable.
You guess, no doubt, the insect to which
I allude ? You cannot fail to recognize it as the mos-quito
? Just so ; it is the mosquito I mean, and in no
part of South America do these insects abound in greater
numbers, and nowhere are they more blood-thirsty than
upon the borders of this great fresh-water sea. Not only
one species of mosquito, but all the varieties known as
•' jejens," " zancudos," and " tempraneros," here abound
in countless multitudes, — each kind making its appear-ance
at a particular hour of the day or night,—" mount-ing
guard " (as the persecuted natives say of them) in
turn, and allowing only short intervals of respite from
theh' bitter attacks.
OF MARACAIBO. 73
Now, it SO happens, that aUhough the various kinds
of mosquitoes are pecuHarly the productions of a marshy
or watery region,—and rarely found where the soil is
high and dry, —yet as rarely do they extend their ex-cursions
to a distance from the land. They dehght to
dwell under the shadow of leaves, or near the herbage
of grass, plants, or trees, among which they were hatched.
They do not stray far from the shore, and only when the
breeze carries them do they fly out over the open water.
Need I say more ? You have now the explanation why
the Indians of Maracaibo build their dwellings upon the
water. It is simply to escape from the " plaga de mos-cas"
(the pest of the flies).
Like most other Indians of tropical America, and some
even of colder latitudes, those of Maracaibo go naked,
wearing only the guayuco, or " waist-belt." Those of
them, however, who have submitted to the authority of
the monks, have adopted a somewhat more modest garb, —consisting of a small apron of cotton or palm-fibre,
suspended from the waist, and reaching down to their
knees.
We have already stated, that the water-dwelling In-dian
is a fisherman, and that the waters of the lake
supply him with numerous kinds of fish of excellent
quality. An account of these, with the method employed
in capturing them, may not prove uninteresting.
First, there is the fish known as " hza," a species of
skate. It is of a briUiant silvery hue, with bluish cor-ruscations.
It is a small fish, being only about a foot
in length, but is excellent to eat, and when preserved
by drying, forms an article of commerce with the West-
Indian islands. Along the coasts of Cumana and Ma-
4
74 THE WATER-DWELLEES
garita, there are many people employed in the pesca de
liza (skate-fishery) ; but although the hza is in reality
a sea fish, it abounds in the fresh waters of Maracaibo,
and is there also an object of industrial pursuit. It is
usually captured by seines, made out of the fibres of
the cocui aloe {agave cocuizd), or of cords obtained from
the unexpanded leaflets of the moriche palm {Mauritia
Jlexuosa), both of which useful vegetable products are
indigenous to this region. The roe of the liza, when
dried in the sun, is an article in high estimation, and
finds its way into the channels of commerce.
A still more dehcate fish is the " pargo." It is of a
white color tinged with rose ; and of these great num-bers
are also captured. So, too, with the "doncella,"
one of the most beautiful species, as its pretty name of
*' doncella " (young maiden) would indicate. These last
are so abundant in some parts of the lake, that one of its
bays is distinguished by the name of Laguna de Don-cella.
A large, ugly fish, called the " vagre," with an enor-mous
head and wide mouth, from each side of which
stretches a beard-like appendage, is also an object of
the Indian's pursuit. It is usually struck with a spear,
or killed by arrows, when it shows itself near the surface
of the water. Another monstrous creature, of nearly
circular shape, and full three feet in diameter, is the " ca-rite,"
which is harpooned in a similar fashion.
Besides these there is the " viegita," or " old-woman
fish," which itself feeds upon lesser creatures of the finny
tribe, and especially upon the smaller species of shell-fish.
It has obtained its odd appellation from a singular
noise which it gives forth, and which resembles the voice
of an old woman debilitated with extreme age.
OF MAEACAIBO. 75
The '' dorado," or gilded fish — so called on account
of its beautiful color—is taken by a hook, with no other
bait attached than a piece of white rag. This, however,
must be kept constantly in motion, and the bait is played
by simply paddling the canoe over the surface of the
lake, until the dorado, attracted by the white meteor, fol-lows
in its track, and eventually hooks itself.
Many other species of fish are taken by the water-
Indians, as the " lebranche " which goes in large " schools,"
and makes its breeding-place in the lagunas and up the
rivers, and the " guabina," with several kinds of sardines
that find their way into the tin boxes of Europe ; for the
Maracaibo fishennan is not contented with an exclusive
fish diet. He likes a httle " casava," or maize-bread,
along with it ; besides, he has a few other wants to satis-fy,
and the means he readly obtains in exchange for the
surplus produce of his nets, harpoons, and arrows.
"We have already stated that he is a fowler. At cer-taia
seasons of the year this is essentially his occupation.
The fowHng season with him is the period of northern
winter, when the migratory aquatic birds come down
from the boreal regions of Prince Rupert's Land to dis-port
their bodies iu the more agreeable waters of Lake
Maracaibo. There they assemble in large flocks, dark-ening
the air with their myriads of numbers, now flutter-ing
over the lake, or, at other times, seated on its sm-face
silent and motionless. Notwithstanding their great num-bers,
however, they are too shy to be approached near
enough for the "carry" of an Lidian arrow, or a gun
either ; and were it not for a very cunning stratagem
which the Lidian has adopted for their capture, they
might return again to their northern haunts without being
miniis an individual of their " count."
76 THE WATER-DWELLERS
But thej are not permitted to depart thus unscathed.
During their sojourn within the lunits of Lake Mara-caibo
their legions get considerably thinned, and thou-sands
of them that settle down upon its inviting waters
are destined never more to take wing.
To effect their capture, the Indian fowler, as already
stated, makes use of a very ingenious stratagem. Some-thing
similar is described as being practised in other
parts of the world ; but in no place is it carried to such
' perfection as upon the Lake Maracaibo.
The fowler first proyides himself with a number of
large gourd-shells of roundish form, and each of them at
least as big as his own skull. These he can easily ob-tain,
either from the herbaceous squash ( Cucurbita lage-naris)
or from the calabash tree ( Crescentia cnjete), both
of which grow luxuriantly on the shores of the lake.
Filling his periagua with these, he proceeds out into the
open water to a certain distance from the land, or from
his own dwelling. The distance is regulated by several
considerations. He must reach a place which, at all
hours of the day, the ducks and other waterfowl are not
afraid to frequent ; and, on the other hand, he must not
go beyond such a depth as will bring the water higher
than his own chin when wading through it. This last
consideration is not of so much importance, for the water
Indian can swim almost as well as a duck, and dive hke
one, if need be ; but it is connected with another matter
of greater importance—the convenience of having the
• birds as near as possible, to save him a too long and
wearisome " wade." It is necessary to have them so
near, that at all hours they may be under his eye.
Having found the proper situation, which the vast ex-
OF MARACAIBO. 77
tent of shoal water (ali-eadj mentioned) enables In'rn to
do, he proceeds to caiTj out his design by dropping a
gourd here and another there, until a large space of sur-face
is covered by these floating shells. Each goui'd has
a stone attached to it bj means of a string, which, rest-mg
upon the bottom, brings the buoy to an anchor, and
prevents it from being drifted into the deeper water
or carried entirely away.
Wlien his decoys are all placed, the Indian paddles
back to his platform dweUing, and there, with watchful
eye, awaits the issue. The birds are at first shy of these
round yellow objects intruded upon their domain ; but, as
the hours pass, and they perceive no harm in them, they
at length take courage and venture to approach. Urged
by that curiosity which is instinctive in every creature,
they gradually draw nigher and nigher, until at length
they boldly venture into the midst of the odd objects and
examine them minutely. Though puzzled to make out
what it is aU meant for, they can perceive no harm
in the yellow globe-shaped things that only bob about,
but make no attempt to do them any injury. Thus satis-fied,
their curiosity soon wears off, and the birds no
longer regarduig the floating shells as objects of suspi-cion,
s\^im freely about through their midst, or sit quietly
on the water side by side with them.
But the crisis has now arrived when it is necessary
the Indian should act, and for this he speedily equips
himself. He first ties a stout rope around his waist, to
which are attached many short strings or cords. He then
di-aws over his head a large gourd-shell, which, fitting
pretty tightly, covers his whole skull, reaching down to
his neck. This shell is exactly sunilar to the others
78 THE WATER-DWELLERS
already floating on the water, with the exception of hav-ing
three holes on one side of it, two on the same level
with the Lidian's eyes, and the third opposite his mouth,
intended to serve him for a breathing-hole.
He is now ready for work ; and, thus oddly accoutred,
he shps quietly down from his platform, and laying him-self
along the water, swims gently in the direction of
the ducks.
He swims only where the water is too shallow to
prevent him from crouching below the surface ; for were
he to stand upright, and wade, — even though he were
still distant from them, —the shy birds might have sus-picions
about his after-approaches.
When he reaches a point where the lake is sufficiently
deep, he gets upon his feet and wades, still keeping his
shoulders below the surface. He makes his advance
very slowly and warily, scarce raising a ripple on the
surface of the placid lake, and the nearer he gets to
his intended victims he proceeds with the greater cau-tion.
The unsuspecting birds see the destroyer approach
without having the slightest misgiving of danger. They
fancy that the new comer is only another of those inani-mate
objects by their side — another gourd-shell drifting
out upon the water to join its companions. They have
no suspicion that this wooden counterfeit—like the horse
of Troy—is inhabited by a terrible enemy.
Poor things ! how could they ? A stratagem so well
contrived would deceive more rational intellects than
theirs ; and, in fact, having no idea of danger, they
perhaps do not trouble themselves even to notice the
new arrival.
OF MARACAIBO. 79
Meanwhile the gourd has drifted silently into their
midst, and is seen approaching the odd individuals, first
one and afterwards another, as if it had some special
business with each. This business appears to be of a
verJ mysterious character ; and in each case is abruptly
brought to a conclusion, by the duck making a sudden
dive under the water, — not head foremost, according to
its usual practice, but m the reverse way, as if jerked
do-wn by the feet, and so rapidly that the creature has
not time to utter a single " quak."
After quite a number of individuals have disappeared
in this mysterious manner, the others sometimes grow
suspicious of the moving calabash, and either take to
wing, or swim off to a less dangerous neighborhood ; but
if the gourd performs its office in a skilful manner, it
will be seen passing several times to and fro between
the birds and the water-village before this event takes
place. On each return trip, when far from the flock,
and near the habitations, it wdll be seen to rise high
above the surface of the water. It will then be per-ceived
that it covers the skull of a copper-colored sav-age,
around whose hips may be observed a double tier