Our travellers passed southward to Madrid, where they only remained long enough to witness that exciting but not very gentle spectacle, a bull-fight.
Thence proceeding to Lisbon, they took passage direct for Para, or “Gran Para,” as it is called – a thriving Brazilian settlement at the mouth of the Amazon river, and destined at no very distant day to become a great city.
The design of our hunters was to ascend the Amazon, and reach, by one of its numerous head waters, the eastern slope of the Andes mountains – which they knew to be the habitat of the “spectacled bear.”
On arriving at Para, they were not only surprised, but delighted, to find that the Amazon river was actually navigated by steamboats; and that, instead of having to spend six months in ascending to the upper part of this mighty river – as in the olden time – they could now accomplish the journey in less than a score of days! These steamers are the property of the Brazilian Government, that owns the greater part of the Amazon valley, and that has shown considerable enterprise in developing its resources – much more than any of the Spano-American States, which possess the regions lying upon the upper tributaries of the Amazon. It is but fair to state, however, that the Peruvians have also made an attempt to introduce steam upon the Amazon river; and that they have been unsuccessful, from causes over which they could scarce be expected to have control. The chief of these causes appears to have been the dishonesty of certain American contractors, who provided them with the steamers – three of them – which, on being taken to the head of steam navigation on the Amazon, were found to be utterly worthless, and had to be laid up! This bit of jobbery is to be regretted the more, since its bad effects do not alone concern the people of Peru, but the whole civilised world: for there is not a country on the globe that would not receive benefit by a development of the resources of this mighty river.
Our young Russians had been under the belief, as most people are, that the banks of the Amazon were entirely without civilised settlements – that the great river had scarcely been explored – that only a few travellers had descended this mighty stream; and that altogether it was still as much of a terra incognita as in the days of Orellana. They found that these notions were quite incorrect; that not only is there the large town of Para near the mouth of the Amazon, but there are other considerable settlements upon its banks, at different distances from each other, all the way up to Peru. Even upon some of its tributaries – as the Rio Negro and Madeira – there are villages and plantations of some importance. Barra, on the former stream, is of itself a town of 2,000 inhabitants.
In that part of the Amazonian territory which lies within the boundaries of Brazil, the settlements are, of course, Brazilian – the settlers being a mixture of Portuguese negroes and Christianised Indians. The portion of the great valley higher up towards the Cordilleras of the Andes, belongs to the Spanish-American governments – chiefly to Peru. There are also settlements of a missionary character, the population of which consists almost entirely of Indians, who have submitted themselves to the rule of the Spanish priests. Years ago many of these missionary settlements were in a flourishing condition; but at present they are in a complete state of decay.
Our young Russians found, then, that the great South American river was by no means unknown or unexplored – though as yet no great observer has given an account of it. The different travellers who have descended the Amazon, and written books about it, have all been men of slight capacity, and lacking powers of scientific observation; and one cannot help feeling regret, that Humboldt did not choose the Amazon, instead of the Orinoco, as the medium of his valuable researches into the cosmography of South America. Such a grand subject was worthy of such a man.
In ascending the Amazon – which our party did by the Brazilian steamer – they were fortunate in finding on board a very intelligent travelling companion; who gave them much information of the great valley and its resources. This man was an old Portuguese trader, who had spent nearly a lifetime in navigating not only the Amazon itself, but many of its larger tributaries. His business was to collect from the different Indian tribes the indigenous products of the forest – or montaña, as it is called – which stretches almost without interruption from the Andes to the Atlantic. In this vast tropical forest there are many productions that have found their way into the channels of commerce; and many others yet unknown or unregarded. The principal articles obtained by the traders are sarsaparilla, Peruvian bark, annatto, and other dyes, vanilla, Brazil nuts, Tonka beans, hammocks, palm fibre, and several other kinds of spontaneous vegetable productions. Monkeys, toucans, macaws, parrots, and other beautiful birds, also enter into the list of Amazonian exports; while the imports consist of such manufactured articles as may tempt the cupidity of the savage, or the weapons necessary to him either in war or for the chase.
In this trade their travelling companion had spent thirty years of his life; and being a man of intelligence he had not only acquired a consider able fortune, but laid in a stock of geographical knowledge, of which the young Russians were not slow to take advantage. In the natural history of the montaña he was well versed; and knew the different animals and their habits from actual observation – for which thirty years of adventure had given him a splendid opportunity. It was a rich store, and our travellers, especially the naturalist Alexis, did not fail to draw largely from it.
From the information given by this intelligent trader, Alexis was enabled to determine several facts about the bears of South America, that had hitherto been doubtful. He learnt that there are at least two very distinct varieties of them – one, the “spectacled bear” (ursus ornatus) – so called, on account of the whitish rings around his eyes, suggesting the idea of spectacles; and another without these white eye markings, and which has been lately named by a distinguished German naturalist ursus frugilegus.
The former kind is known throughout the Peruvian countries as the “Hucumari,” and although it inhabits the Cordilleras, it does not ascend to the very cold elevations known as the “paramos” and “puna.” On the contrary, it affects a warmer climate, and is not unfrequently found straying into the cultivated valleys termed generally the “Sierra.” The ursus frugilegus chiefly frequents the tangled woods that cover the eastern spurs of the Andes, ranging often as far down as the montaña, and never so high as the declivities that border on the region of snow.
Both of these species are black bears, and termed “oso negro” by the Spanish-Americans; but the Hucumari is distinguished by a white list under the throat, a white breast, a muzzle of a greyish buff colour, and the crescent-like eye markings already mentioned. It is also of a gentler disposition than its congener, smaller in size, and never preys upon other animals. The other does so – frequently making havoc among the flocks of sheep, and even attacking the cattle and horses of the haciendas. The ursus frugilegus will give battle even to man himself – when baited, or rendered furious by being chased.
Both these species are supposed to be confined to the Chilian and Peruvian Andes. This is an erroneous supposition. They are equally common in Bolivia, and in the sierras of New Grenada and Venezuela. They are found on both sides of Lake Maracaibo – in the sierras Perija and Merida. One of them, at least, has also been observed in the mountains of Guiana – though naturalists have not met with it there. Humboldt, it is true, saw the tracks of what the natives told him was a bear on the Upper Orinoco; and, reasoning from their size, he drew the inference that it must have been a much smaller species than the ursus americanus; but in this matter the great philosopher was led into an error by a misapplied name. He was informed that the animal was the “oso carnero,” or flesh-eating bear – a title given by the Mission Indians to distinguish it from two other animals, which they also erroneously term bears – the “oso palmero,” or great ant-eater (tamanoir), and the “oso hormiguero” (tamandua). The animal by whose tracks Humboldt was misled, was, no doubt, one of the smaller plantigrade animals (coatis or grisons), of which there are several species in the forests of South America.
Our hunters learnt enough from their travelling acquaintance to convince them that, in whatever latitude they might approach the Andes from the east, they would be certain to find both varieties of the South American black bear; but that the best route they could take would be up the great Napo river, which rises not very far from the old Peruvian capital of Quito. In the wild provinces of Quixos and Macas, lying to the east of Quito – and to which the Napo river would conduct them – they would be certain to meet with the animals they were in search of.
They would have been equally sure of meeting bears in the territory of Jean de Bracamoros; and this would have been more easily reached; but Alexis knew that by taking that route across the Cordilleras, they would be thrown too far to the west for the isthmus of Panama – which it was necessary they should cross on their way to the northern division of the American continent.
By keeping up the Napo to its source, and then crossing the Cordilleras of New Granada, they would still be enabled to make westerly as far as Panama – to which port they could get passage in one of the Grenadian coasting-vessels.
On arriving at the mouth of the Napo, therefore, they engaged a periagua, with its Indian crew, and continued their journey up this stream towards the still-distant Cordilleras of Quito.
The river Napo is one of the largest of the head waters of the Amazon, and one of the most interesting – since, by it, most of the early expeditionists descended in search of the country of the gilded kings, and the gold-roofed temples of Manoa. Though these proved to be fabulous, yet the existence of gold dust among the Indians of the Napo was true enough, and is true to the present hour. On this river, and its numerous branches, gold washings, or placers, are quite common; and occasionally the savages, who roam over this region, collect the dust, and exchange it with the traders who venture among them. The Indians, however, are of too idle a habit to follow this industry with any degree of energy; and whenever they have obtained a quill full of the metallic sand – just enough to purchase them some coveted nick-knack of civilised manufacture – they leave off work, and the precious ingots are permitted to sleep undiscovered in their beds.
Notwithstanding the length of their journey up the Napo, our travellers did not deem it tedious. The lovely tropical scenery, ever under their eyes, together with the numerous little incidents which were constantly occurring, relieved the monotony of their daily life, and kept them in a constant state of interested excitement. At every bend of the river appeared some object, new and worthy of admiration – some grand tropical plant or tree, some strange quadruped, or some bird of glorious plumage.
The craft in which they travelled was that in general use on the upper tributaries of the Amazon: a large canoe – hollowed out from the gigantic bombax ceiba, or silk-cotton tree – and usually known as a periagua. Over the stern part, or quarter-deck, a little “round house” is erected, resembling the tilt of a wagon; but, instead of ash hoops and canvas, it is constructed of bamboos and leaves of trees. The leaves form a thatch to shade the sun from the little cabin inside, and they are generally the large leaves of the vihai, a species of heliconia, which grows abundantly in the tropical forests of South America. Leaves of the musacaae (plantains and bananas) serve for a similar purpose; and both kinds are equally employed in thatching the huts in which the natives dwell.
The little cabin thus constructed is called a toldo. Inside it is high enough for a man to sit upright, though not to stand; and generally it is only used for sleeping in, or as a shelter during rain. At other times the traveller prefers the open air; and sits or reclines upon the roof of the toldo, which is constructed of sufficient strength to bear his weight. The forward part of the periagua is left quite open; and here the rowers take their stations, so that their movements do not interfere with the comfort of the travellers.
Through the influence of the Portuguese trader, our party had the good fortune to obtain a proper periagua and crew. They were Christianised Indians, belonging to one of the Spanish missions situated far up the Napo. They had descended this river with a cargo of the products of the mission; and were just about starting to go back, as our travellers arrived at the river’s mouth. An agreement was easily entered into with the capataz, or chief of the periagua; and as our travellers always paid liberally for such service, and kept the crew well fed, they received as good attendance and accommodation as circumstances would admit of. Here and there on the banks of the river – though at very long intervals apart – were settlements of the wild Indians of the forest; and as nearly all the tribes of Amazonia do less or more in the way of cultivation and commerce, our travellers were enabled from time to time to replenish their larder. Their guns, too, helped materially to keep up the supply: since almost every day game of one kind or another was procured along the banks. For bread they had farinha, a good stock of which they had brought with them on the steamer from Paru. This is the grated root of the manioc plant (jatropha manihot), and forms the staple food of all classes throughout the countries of Amazonia.
Alexis was particularly interested in what they saw. Never had naturalist a finer field for observation. Here was nature presented to the eye in its most normal condition. Here could be observed the tropical forest in all its primeval virginity, unbroken by the axe of the lumberer, and in many places untrodden even by the foot of the hunter. Here its denizens – quadrupeds, quadrumana, birds, reptiles, and insects – might be seen following out their various habits of life, obedient only to the passions or instincts that had been implanted in them by Nature herself, but little modified by the presence of man. Now would appear a flock of capivaras– or chiguires, as they are also called – the largest of rodent animals, basking upon some sunny bank, raising their great rabbit-like heads, and gazing curiously at the passing periagua. Perhaps before the travellers had lost sight of them, the whole gang would be seen suddenly starting from their attitudes of repose, and in desperate rush making for the water. Behind them would appear the yellow-spotted body of the jaguar – the true tyrant of the Amazonian forest, who, with a single blow of his powerful paw would stretch a chiguire upon the grass, and then, couching over his fallen victim, would tear its body to pieces, drink its warm blood, and devour its flesh at his leisure.
If by good fortune the flock might all escape, and reach the water, the jaguar, conscious of their superior adroitness in that element, would at once abandon the pursuit; and returning to his ambush, lie waiting for a fresh opportunity. But for all that, the poor chiguires would not be certain of safety; for even in the water they might encounter another enemy, equally formidable and cruel, in the gigantic jacare– the crocodile of the Amazonian waters. Thus assailed in either element, the poor innocent rodents are driven from land to water, and from the water back again to the land; and so kept in a state of continual fear and trembling. The puma, too, assails them, and the jaguarundi, and the fierce coatimundi; and not unfrequently the enormous anaconda enfolds them in its deadly embrace; for the innocuous creatures can make no defence against their numerous enemies; and but for that fecundity which characterises the family to which they belong – the so called “Guinea pigs” – their race would be in danger of total extirpation.
The chiguires were not the only gregarious animals observed by our travellers in their ascent of the Napo. Others of a very different order appeared in the peccaries, or wild pigs of the montaña. These are true pachyderms, and in reality pigs; though naturalists have seen fit to separate them from the genus Sus, and constitute for them a genus of their own. It is hardly necessary to say that this is a very useless proceeding – since the peccaries are neither more nor less than true wild hogs, the indigenous representatives of the suidae, on the American continent. Their classification into a separate genus has been productive of no good purpose, but the very contrary: since it has added to the number of zoological names, thereby rendering still more difficult the study of that interesting science. For such an endless vocabulary, we are chiefly indebted to the speculations of anatomic naturalists, who, lacking opportunities of actual observation, endeavour to make up for it by guesses and conjectures, founded upon some little tubercle upon a tooth! Notwithstanding their learned treatises, it often proves – and very often too – that these tubercles tell most abominable stories; in plainer terms, that the animals “lie in their teeth.”
The peccary – which the old writers were content to regard as a wild pig, and very properly placed under the genus sus– is now termed dicotyles. Two species only are yet known to naturalists – the “white-lipped” and “collared” (dicotyles labritus and dicotyles collaris); and although they are rarely found frequenting the same district of country, either one or the other kind can be encountered in all the wilder parts of America – from California on the north, to the latitude of the La Plata on the south. Both are nearly of one form and colour – a sort of speckled greyish-brown; the collared species being so named from a whitish list running up in front of its shoulders, and forming the semblance of a collar; while the white-lipped derives its specific title from having lips of a greyish-white colour. In size, however, there is a great difference between the two: the white-lipped peccary weighing 100 pounds, or nearly twice the weight of the collared species. The former, too, is proportionably stouter in build, and altogether a stronger and fiercer animal; for although fierceness is not a characteristic of their nature, like other animals of the hog family, when, roused, they exhibit a ferocity and fearlessness equalling that of the true carnivora.
Both kinds of peccary are preyed upon by the jaguar; but this tyrant of the wilds approaches them with more caution and far less confidence, than when he makes his onslaught on the helpless chiguires; and not unfrequently in conflicts with the peccary, the jaguar comes off only second best. Of this fact our travellers had ample proofs – having frequently witnessed, while ascending the Napo, encounters between the peccaries and the jaguars. One of these encounters they had watched with an interest more than common: for in its result their own safety was concerned; and the very position of peril in which they were placed, enabled them to have a full and perfect view of the whole spectacle; an account of which we find recorded in the journal of Alexis.
They had reacted a district which lies between two great branches of the Napo river, and which bears the name of Canelos, or the “cinnamon country.” The name was given to it by the Spanish discoverers of Peru – from the fact of their finding trees in this region, the bark of which bears a considerable resemblance to the celebrated spice of the East Indies. Canela is the Spanish name for cinnamon; and the rude adventurers Pineda and Gonzalez Pizarro, fancying it was the real cinnamon-tree itself, so called it; and the district in which they found it most abundant thenceforward took the name of Canelos.
The tree, afterwards identified and described by the Spanish botanist Mutis, is not the Laurus cinnamomum of Ceylon; but a species of laurus peculiar to the American continent – to which this botanist has given the name laurus cinnamomöides. It is not, however, confined to the region around the Rio Napo, but grows in many parts of the Great Montaña, as well as in other countries of tropical America. Bonpland identified it on the Upper Orinoco, and again in the county of Caraccas; though nowhere does it appear to be in such plenty as to the east of the Cordilleras of Ecuador and Peru – throughout the provinces of Quixos, Macas, and Jean de Bracamoros. In these provinces it is found forming extensive woods, and filling the air with the delicious aroma of its flowers. The bark of the laurus cinnamomöides is not considered equal in delicate flavour to that of the Oriental cinnamon. It is hotter and more pungent to the taste – otherwise the resemblance between the two trees is very considerable, their foliage being much alike, and the bark peeling off of nearly equal thickness. The American, however, becomes more brownish when dried; and, though it is not equal to the cinnamon bark of Ceylon, large quantities of it are collected, both for use in the Spanish-American countries and for export to Europe – where it is often passed off for the true cinnamon. Were it not that the province of anelos is rather inaccessible to commerce, no doubt a great deal more of it would find its way into the European markets; but there are perils and hardships in the collecting of this bark, which make it unprofitable to deal in, even at the full price of the true cinnamon. The Peruvians believe that, were the tree cultivated in a proper manner, as the Oriental cinnamon is, its bark would prove equal in quality to the latter; and perhaps this may be true, since occasionally specimens of it have been procured, having all the rich aroma of the spice of Ceylon. These have been taken from trees that grew in favourable situations – that is, standing alone, and where the sun had free access to the leaves and flowers. The leaves themselves have the peculiar cinnamon flavour, and the flowers also; but in a much stronger degree. Indeed, the flowers are even more aromatic than those of the laurus cinnamomum.
It is said that the wild pigs (peccaries) are very fond of these flowers, as well as the seeds, when ripe; and a singular habit of these animals is related by some of the early Peruvian travellers – the Jesuit Ovalle for one. The old father states that when a flock of the peccaries go in search of the flowers of the canela-tree, they separate into two divisions, of about nearly equal numbers. The individuals of one division place their shoulders to the different trees; and, by shaking them violently, cause the flowers to fall down to the earth. While thus employed, the peccaries of the other party stand under the shower, and eat undisturbedly until they have quite filled their bellies, or otherwise satisfied themselves. These last then take the place of the hungry hogs; and reciprocating the service by shaking the trees, leave the former to enjoy themselves in their turn!
It is not easy to swallow this story of the Jesuit, though he was himself a native of the country where the scene is laid. That part of it which relates to the hogs shaking the trees for one another, is not likely to be true, though it is possible all the other particulars are correct.
It may be true enough that the animals shake the trees to bring down the flowers: for this would exhibit a sagacity not greater than hogs of other species are capable of; but it is not according to the laws of their moral nature to perform the service for one another. That they roam in great flocks through the canela forests, and devour with avidity the blossoms of these trees, is undoubtedly a fact – of which our travellers had the evidence of their own eyes while on their journey up the river Napo.
They were passing a place where these wild cinnamon-trees lined the banks of the stream; and, in order to make a closer examination of such an interesting species, Alexis landed from the periagua, Ivan went along with him – taking his double-barrelled gun, in hopes of getting a shot at something. In one barrel he had a bullet, while the other was loaded with shot – so that he was prepared for any sort of game that might turn up, either beasts or birds. Alexis, as usual, carried his rifle.
It was their intention to walk for some distance up the bank. There was a sandy strip between the water and the trees – which would enable them to make way without difficulty – and it is only where this occurs that the banks of the Amazonian rivers can be followed on foot. Generally, the thick forest comes down to the very water’s edge; and there is no pathway except an occasional track followed by the chiguires, tapirs, and other animals; but, as these creatures only open the underwood to the height of their own bodies, all above that is a matted labyrinth of leaves and llanos, that form an impenetrable barrier to the passage of anything so tall as a man. The Indians themselves rarely follow these paths, but keep to their canoes or periaguas.
Seeing this fine open sand-bar, which appeared to stretch for miles above them, our young travellers, tired of sitting upon the toldo, determined to stretch their legs in a walk; and, directing the capataz to keep up the river and take them in above, they set out along the bank – now and then dipping into the woods, wherever an opening showed itself, and examining such rare natural objects as attracted their attention.
Pouchskin did not go with them; and the reason was that, some days before, Pouchskin had encountered a mishap, by which he was laid up lame. The cause of his lameness was simply that some chigas had got between his toes; and not having been extracted in time, had there laid their eggs, and caused a terrible inflammation to his feet. A misfortune that frequently happens in tropical countries. The wound caused by the chiga, though not absolutely of fatal consequences, is very dangerous to be trifled with – often leading to the necessity of amputating the part attacked by these diminutive insects. Pouchskin, sneering at the insignificance of the enemy, had neglected taking proper precautions – notwithstanding that the Indian canoe-men had warned him of the danger. The consequence was a swelling of the parts and an inflammation, that lamed the old grenadier as completely as if his leg had been carried off by a bomb-shell; and he was now reclining along the top of the toldo, unable to stand upon his feet.
For this reason, being in no condition to join his young masters on their pedestrian excursions, he was necessarily left behind. It was, perhaps, just as well for him: since it was the means of keeping him clear of a scrape into which both of the young hunters chanced to fall very soon after; and which, perhaps, had Pouchskin been with them, might have ended worse than it did: since it could not have ended much better.