The Naturalist on the River Amazons
The violence of the wind abated in the course of an hour, but the deluge of rain continued until about three o’clock in the morning; the sky being lighted up by almost incessant flashes of pallid lightning, and the thunder pealing from side to side without interruption. Our clothing, hammocks, and goods were thoroughly soaked by the streams of water which trickled through between the planks. In the morning all was quiet; but an opaque, leaden mass of clouds overspread the sky, throwing a gloom over the wild landscape that had a most dispiriting effect. These squalls from the west are always expected about the time of the breaking up of the dry season, in these central parts of the Lower Amazons. ‘They generally take place about the beginning of February, so that this year they had commenced much earlier than usual. The soil and climate are much drier in this part of the country than in the region lying farther to the west, where the denser forests and more clayey, humid soil produce a considerably cooler atmosphere. The
storms may be therefore attributed to the rush of cold moist air from up river, when the regular trade-wind coming from the sea has slackened or ceased to blow.: On the 26th we arrived at a large sandbank connected with an island in mid-river, in front of an inlet called Maracd-uassi. Here we anchored and spent half a day ashore. Penna’s object in stopping was simply to enjoy a ramble on the sands with the children, and give Senhora Katita an opportunity to wash the linen. The sandbank was now fast going under water with the rise of the river; in the middle of the dry season it is about a mile long and half a mile in width. The canoe-men delight in these open spaces, which are a great relief to the monotony of the forest that clothes the land in every other part of the river. Farther westward they are much more frequent, and of larger extent. They lie generally at the upper end of islands; in fact, the latter originate in accretions of vegetable matter, formed by plants and trees growing on a shoal. The island was wooded chiefly with the trumpet tree (Cecropia peltata), which has a hollow stem and smooth pale bark. The leaves are similar in shape to those of the horse-chestnut, but immensely larger; beneath they are white, and when the welcome trade-wind blows they show their silvery undersides,—a pleasant signal to the weary canoe traveller. The mode of growth of this tree is curious: the branches are emitted at nearly right angles with the stem, the branchlets in minor whorls around these, and so forth, the leaves growing at their extremities; so that the total appearance is that of a huge candelabrum. Cecropiz of different species are characteristic of Brazilian forest scenery; the kind of which I am speaking grows in great numbers everywhere on the banks of the Amazons where the land is low. In the same places the curious Monguba tree (Bombax ceiba) is also plentiful; the dark-green bark of its huge tapering trunk, scored with grey, forming a conspicuous object. The principal palm-tree on the lowlands is the Jauari (Astryocaryum Jauari), whose stem, surrounded by whorls of spines, shoots up to a great height. On the borders of the island were large tracts of arrow-grass (Gynerium saccharoides), which bears elegant plumes of flowers, like those of the reed, and grows to a height of twenty feet, the leaves arranged in a fan-shaped figure near the middle of the stem. I was surprised to find on the higher parts of the sandbank the familiar foliage of a willow (Salix Humboldtiana). It is a dwarf species, and grows in patches resembling beds of osiers; as in the English willows, the leaves were peopled by small chrysomelideous beetles. In wandering about, many features reminded me of the seashore. Flocks of white gulls were flying overhead, uttering their well-known cry, and sandpipers coursed along the edge of the water. Here and there lonely wading-birds were stalking about; one of these, the Curicaca (Ibis melanopis), flew up with a loud cackling noise, and was soon joined by a unicorn bird (Palamedea cornuta), which I startled’ up from amidst the bushes, whose harsh screams, resembling the bray of a jackass, but shriller, disturbed unpleasantly the solitude of the place. Amongst the willow bushes were. flocks of a handsome bird belonging to the Icteridz or troupial family, adorned with a rich plumage of black and saffron-yellow. I spent some time watching an assemblage of a
species of bird called by the natives Tamburi-pard, on the Cecropia trees. It is the Monasa nigrifrons of ornithologists, and has a plain slate-coloured plumage, with the beak of an orange hue. It belongs to the family of Barbets, most of whose members are remarkable for their dull inactive temperament. Those species which are arranged by ornithologists under the genus Bucco are called by the Indians, in the Tupi language, Tai-assti uird, or pig-birds. They remain seated sometimes for hours together on low branches in the shade, and are stimulated to exertion only when attracted by passing insects. This flock of Tamburi-para were the reverse of dull; they were gambolling and chasing each other amongst the branches. As they sported about, each emitted a few short tuneful notes, which altogether produced a ringing musical chorus that surprised me. On the 27th we reached an elevated wooden promontory, called Parentins, which now forms the boundary between the provinces of Pard and the Amazons. Here we met a small canoe descending to Santarem. The owner was a free negro named Lima, who, with his wife, was going down the river to exchange his year’s crop of tobacco for European merchandise. The long shallow canoe was laden nearly to the water level. He resided on the banks of the Abacaxi, a river which discharges its waters into the Canoma, a broad interior channel which extends from the river Madeira to the Parentins, a distance of 180 miles. Penna offered him advantageous terms, so a bargain was. struck, and the man saved his long journey. The negro seemed a frank, straightforward fellow;he was a native of Pernambuco, but had settled many years ago in this part of the country. He had with him a little Indian girl belonging to the Mauhés tribe, whose native seat is the district of country lying in the rear of the Canomda, between the Madeira and the Tapajos. ‘The Mauhés are considered, I think with truth, to be a branch of the great Munduructi nation, having segregated from them at a remote period, and by long isolation acquired different customs and a totally different language, in a manner which seems to have been general with the Brazilian aborigines. ‘The Munduructis seem to have retained more of the general characteristics of the original Tupt stock than the Mauhés. Senhor Lima told me, what I afterwards found to be correct, that there were scarcely two words alike in the languages of the two peoples, although there are words closely allied to Tupi in both.* The little girl had not the slightest trace of the savage in her appearance. Her features were finely shaped, the cheek-bones not at all prominent, the lips thin, and the expression of her countenance frank and smiling. She had been brought only a few weeks previously from a remote settlement of her tribe on the banks of the Abacaxi, and did not yet know five words of Portuguese. The Indians, as a general rule, are very manageable when they are young, but it is a general complaint that when they reach the age of puberty they become restless and discontented. The rooted impatience of all restraint then shows itself, and the kindest treatment will not prevent them running away from
- Thus the word Woman, in Mauhé, is Uniha; in Tupi, Cunha; in Munduruci,, Taishi. Fire, in Mauhé, is Aria; in Tupi, Tata; in Munduructi, Idasha or Tasha,
their masters; they do not return to the malocas of their tribes, but join parties who go out to collect the produce of the forests and rivers, and lead a wandering semi-savage kind of life.
We remained under the Serra dos Parentins all night. Early the next morning a light mist hung about the tree-tops, and the forest resounded with the yelping of Whaidpu-sai monkeys. I went ashore with my gun, and got a glimpse of the flock, but did not succeed in obtaining a specimen. They were of small size, and covered with long fur of a uniform grey colour. I think the species was the Callithrix donaco-philus. The rock composing the elevated ridge of the Parentins is the same coarse iron-cemented conglomerate which I have spoken of as. occurring near Pard, and in several other places. Many loose blocks were scattered about. The forest was extremely varied, and inextricable coils of woody climbers stretched from tree to tree. Thongs of cacti were spread over the rocks and tree-trunks. The variety of small, beautifully-shaped ferns, lichens, and boleti, made the place quite a museum of cryptogamic plants. I found here two exquisite species of Longicorn beetles, and a large kind of grasshopper (Pterochroza), whose broad fore-wings resembled the leaf of a plant, providing the insect with a perfect disguise when they were closed; whilst the hind wings were decorated with gaily-coloured eye-like spots.
The negro left us and turned up a narrow channel, the Parand-mirim dos Ramos (the little river of the branches, z.e., having many ramifications), on the road to his home, 130 miles distant. We then continued our voyage, and in the evening arrived at Villa Nova, a straggling village containing about seventy houses, many of which scarcely deserve the name, being mere mud-huts roofed with palm leaves. We stayed here four days. The village is built on a rocky bank, composed of the same coarse conglomerate as that already so often mentioned. In some places a bed of Tabatinga clay rests on the conglomerate. The soil in the neighbourhood is sandy, and the forest, most of which appears to be of second growth, is traversed by broad alleys which terminate to the south and east on the banks of pools and lakes, a chain of which extends through the interior of the land. As soon as we anchored I set off with Luco to explore the district. We walked about a mile along the marly shore, on which was a thick carpet of flowering shrubs, enlivened by a great variety of lovely little butterflies, and then entered the forest by a dry watercourse. About a furlong inland this opened on a broad placid pool, whose banks, clothed with grass of the softest green hue, sloped gently from the water’s edge to the compact wall of forest which encompassed the whole. The pool swarmed with water-fowl; snowy egrets, dark-coloured striped herons, and storks of various species standing in rows around its margins. Small flocks of macaws were stirring about the topmost branches of the trees. Long-legged piosdcas (Parra Jacana) stalked over the water-plants on the surface of the pool, and in the bushes on its margin were great numbers of a kind of canary (Sycalis brasiliensis) of a greenish yellow colour, which has a short and not very melodious song. We had advanced but a few steps when we startled a pair of the Jaburti-moleque (Mycteria americana), a powerful bird of the stork family, four and a half feet in height, which flew up Ke)
and alarmed the rest, so that I got only one bird out of the tumultuous flocks which passed over our heads. Passing towards the farther end of the pool, I saw, resting on the surface of the water, a number of large round leaves, turned up at their edges; they belonged to the Victoria water-lily. ‘The leaves were just beginning to expand (December 3rd), some were still under water, and the largest of those which had reached the surface measured not quite three feet in diameter. We found a montaria with a paddle in it, drawn up on the bank, which I took leave to borrow of the unknown owner, and Luco paddled me amongst the noble plants to search for flowers, meeting, however, with no success. I learnt afterwards that the plant is common in nearly all the lakes of this neighbourhood. The natives call it the furno do Piosoca, or oven of the Jacana, the shape of the leaves being like that of the ovens on which mandioca meal is roasted. Wesaw many kinds of hawks and eagles, one of which, a black species, the Caracdra-i (Milvago nudicollis), sat on the top of a tall naked stump, uttering its hypocritical whining notes. This eagle is considered a bird of ill omen by the Indians; it often perches on the tops of trees in the neighbourhood of their huts, and is then said to bring a warning of death to some member of the household. Others say that its whining cry 1s intended to attract other defenceless birds within its reach. ‘The little courageous flycatcher Bem-ti-vi (Saurophagus sulphuratus) assembles in companies of four or five, and attacks it boldly, driving it from the perch where it would otherwise sit for hours. I shot three hawks of as many different species;and these, with a Magoary stork, two beautiful gilded-green jacamars (Galbula chalcocephala), and half a dozen leaves of the water-lily, made a heavy load, with which we trudged off back to the canoe.