The country on its borders is a magnificent wilderness where civilised man, as yet, has scarcely obtained a footing; the cultivated ground from the Rio Negro to the Andes amounting only to a few score acres.Man, indeed, in any condition, from his small numbers, makes but an insignificant figure in these vast solitudes.It may be mentioned that the Solimoens is 2130 miles in length, if we reckon from the source of what is usually considered the main stream (Lake Lauricocha, near Lima); but 2500miles by the route of the Ucayali, the most considerable and practicable fork of the upper part of the river.It is navigable at all seasons by large steamers for upwards of 1400 miles from the mouth of the Rio Negro.
On the 28th we passed the mouth of Arlauu, a narrow inlet which communicates with the Rio Negro, emerging in front of Barra.Our vessel was nearly drawn into this by the violent current which set from the Solimoens.The towing-cable was lashed to a strong tree about thirty yards ahead, and it took the whole strength of crew and passengers to pull across.We passed the Guariba, a second channel connecting the two rivers, on the 30th, and on the 31st sailed past a straggling settlement called Manacapuru, situated on a high, rocky bank.Many citizens of Barra have sitios, or country-houses, in this place, although it is eighty miles distant from the town by the nearest road.Beyond Manacapuru all traces of high land cease; both shores of the river, henceforward for many hundred miles, are flat, except in places where the Tabatinga formation appears in clayey elevations of from twenty to forty feet above the line of highest water.The country is so completely destitute of rocky or gravelly beds that not a pebble is seen during many weeks' journey.Our voyage was now very monotonous.After leaving the last house at Manacapuru, we travelled nineteen days without seeing a human habitation, the few settlers being located on the banks of inlets or lakes some distance from the shores of the main river.We met only one vessel during the whole of the time, and this did not come within hail, as it was drifting down in the middle of the current in a broad part of the river, two miles from the bank along which we were laboriously warping our course upwards.
After the first two or three days we fell into a regular way of life on board.Our crew was composed of ten Indians of the Cucama nation, whose native country is a portion of the borders of the upper river in the neighbourhood of Nauta, in Peru.The Cucamas speak the Tupi language, using, however, a harsher accent than is common amongst the semi-civilised Indians from Ega downwards.
They are a shrewd, hard-working people, and are the only Indians who willingly, and in a body, engage themselves to navigate the canoes of traders.The pilot, a steady and faithful fellow named Vicente, told me that he and his companions had now been fifteen months absent from their wives and families, and that on arriving at Ega they intended to take the first chance of a passage to Nauta.There was nothing in the appearance of these men to distinguish them from canoemen in general.Some were tall and well built, others had squat figures with broad shoulders and excessively thick arms and legs.No two of them were at all similar in the shape of the head: Vicente had an oval visage, with fine regular features, while a little dumpy fellow, the wag of the party, was quite a Mongolian in breadth and prominence of cheek, spread of nostrils, and obliquity of eyes; but these two formed the extremes as to face and figure.None of them were tattooed or disfigured in any way and they were all quite destitute of beard.
The Cucamas are notorious on the river for their provident habits.The desire of acquiring property is so rare a trait in Indians, that the habits of these people are remarked on with surprise by the Brazilians.The first possession which they strive to acquire on descending the river into Brazil, which all the Peruvian Indians look upon as a richer country than their own, is a wooden trunk with lock and key; in this they stow away carefully all their earnings converted into clothing, hatchets, knives, harpoon heads, needles and thread, and so forth.Their wages are only fourpence or sixpence a day, which is often paid in goods charged one hundred per cent above Para prices, so that it takes them a long time to fill their chest.
It would be difficult to find a better-behaved set of men in a voyage than these poor Indians.During our thirty-five days'
journey they lived and worked together in the most perfect good fellowship.I never heard an angry word pass amongst them.Senor Estulano let them navigate the vessel in their own way, exerting his authority only now and then when they were inclined to be lazy.Vicente regulated the working hours.These depended on the darkness of the nights.In the first and second quarters of the moon they kept it up with espia, or oars, until almost midnight;in the third and fourth quarters they were allowed to go to sleep soon after sunset, and were aroused at three or four o'clock in the morning to resume their work.On cool, rainy days we all bore a hand at the espia, trotting with bare feet on the sloppy deck in Indian file to the tune of some wild boatman's chorus.We had a favorable wind for only two days out of the thirty-five, by which we made about forty miles, the rest of our long journey was accomplished literally by pulling our way from tree to tree.When we encountered a remanso near the shore, we got along very pleasantly for a few miles by rowing-- but this was a rare occurrence.During leisure hours the Indians employed themselves in sewing.Vicente was a good hand at cutting out shirts and trousers, and acted as master tailor to the whole party, each of whom had a thick steel thimble and a stock of needles and thread of his own.Vicente made for me a set of blue-check cotton shirts during the passage.
