Gift of the
HONORABLE HIRAM BINGHAM
YALE 1898

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE

AWAY FROM THE RIVER LAY THE SILENT FOREST
WITH ITS HAUNTING MEMORIES.

SILENT HIGHWAYS
OF THE JUNGLE
Being the Adventures of an Explorer in the
Andes and Reaches of the Upper Amazon
By G. M. DYOTT, F.R.G.S.

P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK
1922

TO

THE

LADY

OF THE

MIST

THIS
BOOK IS
DEDICATED.
Made in England
CONTENTS PAGE
Introduction  n
CHAPTER I
Setting Out for the Interior  > 15
The coast of Peru. — Outline of the Journey. — Pacasmayo. — Pre
liminary arrangements. — A grand start. — On the railway. —
Chilete. — Stifling heat. — The transformation. — A friend. — Up
the valley on mule-back. — Stranded locomotives. — Wonderful
climate. — In the colder altitudes. — Cajamarca the old city of
the Incas. — Difficulties in getting men. — Annoying delays. —
Away at last. — Inca roads. — Stories of robbers. — My man
deserts me. — A new ruffian. — Over the roof of the world. — A
resting place in sight. — A green valley. — Celendin.
CHAPTER II
On Mule-back over the Bleak Passes of the Andes 35
Leave Celendin. — Balsas. — Crossing the Amazon near its source.
— Vampire bats. — Climbing the mountain sides. — The pass of
"Calle Calle," or the Great Silence. — Sick mules. — In difficulties.
— Timely assistance. — Night on the bleak divide. — On the top
of nowhere. — Down the eastern slope. — Pomococha. — Leime-
bamba. — I turn doctor. — Good patients. — Quick recoveries. —
Bad trails. — Extremes in temperature. — Safe arrival at our
destination. CHAPTER III
Chachapoyas, " The Abode of Strong Men." . . 50
Chachapoyas, an ancient settlement. — Enterprising citizens. —
Buy new animals. — Depart in typical Peruvian style. — The
question of food. — Molinopampa. — A well-arranged plot. —
Insects. — Crossing another pass. — Travelling companions. —
The summit, " Where even the birds die." — Down an appalling
slope. — The invisible river. — Contrariness of everything. —
Getting warmer. — A banquet for a change. — An enchanted glen.
— Rioja. — Crossing rivers. CHAPTER IV
Moyobamba and the Dawning Tropics . . . . 67
Moyobamba, the garden spot of the Montafia. — Mules cannot go
further. — The Sub-Prefect. — The simple life. — Inquisitive
visitors. — Seeing the sights. — Carlos Cruz tells his story. —
An earthly Paradise. — A motion picture enthusiast. — The
great show. — Mistaken for a millionaire. — Riotous living. —
Preparations for departure on foot. — Difficulties in getting
Indian porters.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER V PAGE
On Foot through the Great Forest  83
Setting out through the forest.— A difficult walk.— Through
the heart of nowhere. — The tropics with a vengeance. — A
robber and a thief. — The would-be suicide. — Puma Yacu. —
The last ridge of the Andes.— The first view of the Amazon
basin. — The greatest sight on earth. — Minutes of suspense. —
A great relief .—Down-hill for the last time.— The trail becomes
a torrent. — Crossing a. river nine times. — Soaking wet-~VA
salt river. — The last day's tramp to Balsapuerto. — Stolid
indifference. — A quiet night. — A house for five cents a day. —
Living in luxury. CHAPTER VI
By Canoe Down the Cachi Yacu  100
My new companions. — Jibaro Indians. — Grotesque facial
markings. — Setting out in canoe. — Indolent hours on the Cachi
Yacu river. — Preparing a shelter. — An Indian love scene. —
Rain. — Sand-bars. — A new way of fishing. — An hour's peace.
— An accident avoided. — A river monster. — Camp at " Windy
Water." — Noises of the forest. — Baradero. — The usual kind
of infant. — Resting. — Indians. — The abandoned hut. — An
early start. — A long day's work. — Sweltering heat. — Safe in
Yurimaguas. CHAPTER VII
The Amazon at Last  122
The town of Yurimaguas. — The great Huallaga river. — A letter
of introduction. — A new life and new food. — Transcontinental
routes. — The river launch Adolf o. — Buy a ticket. — Bound
for Iquitos. — Unpleasant surroundings. — Delay. — Away at
last. — Fellow-passengers. — Shallow passages. — Submerged logs
— A bad' night. — Colliding with the forest. — Rough remedies.
— The Amazon at last. — A wonderful sight. — The captain. —
Trading with half-castes. — Oil. — Places which exist only on
the map. — Sinister rumours. — Arrival in Iquitos. — Celebrates
the successful ending of one half of my journey.

CHAPTER VIII
Along the Silent Highways of the Jungle . . 146
The Malecon Palace. — Conflicting stories. — Decisions for the
future. — Pleasant friends. — Arrangements for my return. —
A new start. — A passenger on the Cahuapanas. — A small
launch. — A cheerful farewell. — Crowded quarters. — A suicide.
— Slow work against the current. — Dreary life of the settler.
— Cutting wood for fuel. — Fishing for logs. — The River Tigre.
— Names of Places. — Shivering near the Equator. — Hard
work. — The great cyclone. — The Pastaza river. — Murato
Indians. — Beauties of the forest. — Military outposts. —
Mosquitoes. — A close call. — Narrow channels. — Hard and
fast on the rocks. — A midnight scramble. — Barranca.
vi

CONTENTS

CHAPTER IX PAGE
Passing the Great Barrier  171
The launch returns. — Negotiations for continuing my journey. —
A canoe is forthcoming. — Final celebrations. — An intoxicated
crew. — A funeral by way of entertainment. — Insect pests. —
The Morona river. — Fighting the current. — A jaguar serenade.
— Food. — Turtles' eggs by the thousands. — Life's tragedies. —
Limon. — No more settlements. — A deserted country. — Char
acter of river changes. — Walking over red-hot gravel. — Tapir
hunt. — A lazy fellow. — A great surprise. — Back at the foot
of the Andes. — The Pongo de Manseriche. — An impassable
barrier. — The shrieking waters. — My followers want to turn
back. — Cut off from the outside world. — Shamika to the rescue.
— The psychological moment. — We accomplish the impos
sible. — Battle in the whirlpools. — A well-earned rest.
CHAPTER X
Hostile Indians and the Fateful Whirlpool . . 197
A real nightmare. — Our troubles begin. — The great unknown. —
Human footprints. — Attacked by Indians. — A catastrophe
averted. — A friendly pow-wow. — Shamika disappears. — A
burnt Indian settlement. — Dead Indians. — Food but no
shelter. — The fatal whirlpool. — The world turns upside down.
— Rescued. — A dismal night. — Forward again. — The crew
rebel. — Sunshine. — Starving. — More disappointments. — Pati
Huashani. — A promise. — Shouts from the forest. — A fright
and a surprise. — The banquet. — More anxiety. — On the verge
of turning back. — Savages at last.
CHAPTER XI
Into the Unknown  220
A conference with Indians. — Savage promises. — The red cloth. —
A large hut. — Final arrangements. — A new crew. — A weird
night. — Strange surroundings. — Under weigh again. — Rainy
days. — Treacherous waters. — Panchu. — A night on an Indian
rack. — Squirming forward. — Breaking up a meeting. — A
friendly reception. — Adhesive friends. — Hostile country. —
The giant whirlpool. — A sudden departure. — Bartering for
transport. — A fleet of canoes. — A leaky dug-out. — The tan-
sex join us. — Clearing an island of undesirables. — Deposited
on the bank. — Told to walk if we wanted to go further.
CHAPTER XII
I am Left to Die in the Forest  246
The Ipicus. — No more canoes. — Dwellers of the forest. — The
Tundai. — Early callers. — Looking for guides. — Indian porters.
— Prices paid. — An afternoon's fishing. — A restless night. —
More rain. — Good-bye to the river. — An annoying delay. —
Walking up a river. — Pitching camp. — Muiioz states his case
and gets a thrashing. — Abandoned. — Alone in the woods. —
vii

CONTENTS

PAGE

Spines and thorns. — Ants and wasps. — A ghastly night. —
Struggling through the underbrush. — Back on the river. —
Bitter disappointment. — Horrors of the forest. — Unable to
move. — Waiting for something to turn up. — Starving. — A
midnight visitor. — The unending rain. — False hopes. — Still
watching. — Getting weaker. — The inevitable in sight. — The
world as seen from my last resting-place.

CHAPTER XIII
Living with Savages  268
Attacked by Indians. — Refused to fight. — A triumph of
diplomacy. — Have a banana. — Good-bye till to-morrow. —
The next day. — Launched into savage society. — The secret
of good trading. — Learning a strange language. — The daily
round. — Duties of the men. — Diversions. — Clothing. — Cannot
getaway. — Savage neighbours. — The deadly blow-gun and
poison darts. — Tehi, my constant companion. — Driving out
evil spirits. — Women.— Panaguna. — Romance of marriage. —
— War. — Family feuds. — Shrinking human heads. — Monkey's
meat. — Caterpillars. — A surprise visit. — The ceremony of
Ayahuasca. — Strife narrowly averted.

CHAPTER XIV
My Escape and Return to the Pacific Coast . . . . 294
Hobnobbing with savages. — A virtual prisoner. — An awkward
predicament. — Please stay a little longer. — Animal pets. — The
great idea. — Ornaments. — Medicines and miracles. — Old age.
— Curious customs. — Weird dreams. — Tehi unfolds a plan. —
Arrangements for the trip. — Last hours of captivity. — Good
bye to my friends. — Through the forest once more. — The
Wahupaza. — Hilly country. — Stopping for food. — Making
a raft. — First signs of life. — A high ridge. — Open country at
last. — The Andes. — A mountain cholo. — The parting of the
ways. — Safe at last.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Away from the River Lay the Silent
Forest with its Haunting Memories " Frontispiece.
Facing page

2. Train Leaving Chilete for the Interior
3. Main Street, Cajamarca
4. Typical Village in the Andes
5. The Maranon at Balsas
6. Looking Across the MaraSon Valley .
7. Chachapoyas 
8. A Young Citizen of Leimebamba
9. Typical Cholo from Chachapoyas .
10. Almirante on the Trail to Moyobamba .
11. Setting out on Foot Through the Forest
12. Settlement at Balsapuerto .
13. Author's House at Balsapuerto
14. Author's Canoe on the Cachi Yacu
15. An Indian from the Cachi Yacu
16. Indian from the Paranapura Painted for the
Journey 
17. A Typical Habitation in the River Country
18. The " Adolfo " Stops to Take on a Supply of
Wood 
19. The Amazon, 200 Miles Above Iquitos
20. The Outlet from Lake Rimachiuma
21. A Young Married Couple from the Pastaza
River 
22. A Small Settlement and a Big Tree
23. Collecting Turtles Eggs on a Sand Bar
24. Approaching the Pongo de Manseriche .
25. Typical Scene East of the Andes .
26. River Scene in the Foothills of the Andes
ix

2024
3640
48
56
6464
7280
92
98
104112 112
120128
136
152168
176180190
208216

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

27. Murato Indians in their Canoe
28. A Baby Peccary 
29. An Indian Maiden from the Pastaza River
30. A Tree Fern 30 Feet High
31. A Murato Family .....
32. Inserting a Poisoned Dart into a Blow-gun
33. Shrunken Human Head ....
34. Shrunken Human Head before Lips have been
Sewn Up 
35. Shrunken Head, Lips Sewn Up
36. A Night Monkey ....
37. A Tucan . ....
38. On the Roof of the World

Facing page
. 224

224 232
248264
278
284284284296296
312

INTRODUCTION
Peru, the land of the ancient Inca races, is probably
the least known and least developed of any of the
great South American Republics. It is a country
full of surprises and contrasts ; the unexpected
always happens, and to travel through its borders
one must be prepared to face every variation in
climate imaginable. Its topographical configura
tion and the cold Humboldt current which comes
sweeping up from the South Pole along its shores,
are the two main factors which are responsible for
these idiosyncrasies. Sandy deserts vibrating with
heat, mountain peaks glistening in the land of
eternal snow, deep rocky gorges and vast tropical
forests are all within a few days' ride of each other.
Distances are relatively short, but the difficulties
encountered in traversing them are colossal. Range
after range bars the traveller's progress as he
journeys eastward from the coast, and when, after
weeks of incessant travelling, he finally emerges
on the flat ground of the Amazon and its
tributaries, his passage is blocked by miles of
impenetrable forest through which it is impossible
to proceed. Forced to travel by river, periodic
whirlpools and rapids make progress slow and
dangerous. Even when these are left behind,
11

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
submerged logs are a continual menace to
navigation, and the rivers wind and wriggle over
the low-lying ground, covering two or three times
the actual distance represented by a straight line
drawn from one point to another.
To the eastward of the great Andean chain lies
the Montana, or region of woods — a vast expanse
of country, little known, and covered with a tangle
of forest growth through which innumerable rivers
have carved their way. It is extremely difficult of
access, sparsely populated except for savages, and,
in many cases, quite unexplored. Expeditions that
have penetrated into these parts invariably come
back with stories of hardships and privations that
are more pleasant to read about than experience ;
but the fact that they come back at all signifies
that they have been successful.
The story set forth in the following chapters is
typical of the vicissitudes which beset the traveller
who ventures into the wilder sections of the country.
No attempt has been made at embroidery, as the
bare facts in themselves are interesting enough as
they stand, and it is to be hoped that any lack of
literary merit may be offset by the unusual nature
of the narrative itself.
The journey was undertaken at the instigation
of Mr. A. B. Leguia, now President of Peru, with
a view to ascertaining the feasibility of aerial
transport into these remote but exceedingly rich
sections of the Republic, where it is obvious
railways cannot penetrate for many years to come.
To the uninitiated the idea might seem preposterous,
yet there is nothing extraordinary about it for those
who have studied the question in all its details •
12 '

INTRODUCTION

the really strange part is that so few people see
sufficiently far enough ahead to appreciate the true
value of aviation.
While the narrative deals almost exclusively with
remote parts of the interior on the eastern slope of
the Andes, it must not be assumed that all Peru
is inhabited by savages — far from it. On the
coast, and in the mountains, are large centres of
learning, big industrial enterprises, and great
openings for still further commercial development
when capital is available for the purpose. The
refinement and intellectual development of the
people are second to none on the great American
continent, and they can boast of an ancient
civilisation dating back into the dim, distant ages
that is of historic interest to the whole world.
Few countries with such a record of antiquity
behind them can also lay claim to unexplored
regions within their boundaries that are enough
to satisfy the most adventurous spirits of modern
times. For those who are unfamiliar with the Spanish
language, a few pitfalls of pronunciation may
easily be avoided by remembering the following
rules : LI is pronounced as y, i as ee, and j as h.
Thus, Llamas would be pronounced as Yamas,
Iquitos as Eekeetos, and Jibaro as Heebaro. N,
written fi, is equivalent to inserting y after the
letter so marked ; Maranon would therefore be
pronounced Maranyon, or Murloz as Munyoz.
In the Indian words the y sound is always
represented as in English— Yacu, Yampes, etc. ;
and the ee sound as i— Tehi, for example, being
pronounced Tay-hee. 13

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
Photographs used throughout this volume have
been selected from many hundreds taken during
the journey. Unfortunately, my camera ceased to
function as a result of being carried down in the
waters of a whirlpool, described in Chapter X ;
therefore, any illustrations used after that event
have been culled from views taken in other parts.
As they illustrate the character of the country and
the people exceptionally well, there is no harm
in inserting them. The Indians are Muratos
from the Pastaza river, who closely resemble the
Aguarunas, except that, as the former live in a
mosquito-infested district, they wear considerably
more clothing than do the latter. The two
photographs of reduced human heads were taken
at the British Museum, through the courtesy of
the officials there.
In reference to the Amazon river, some confusion
arises because in its passage through Peru it is
known as the " Maranon." So far as this book is
concerned, the two names are used synonymously,
although the name " Maranon " is usually employed
when it refers to that part of the river above the
Pongo de Manseriche. G. M. DYOTT.
London, August, 1921.

14

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF
THE JUNGLE

CHAPTER I
Viewed from the deck of an ocean-going steamer.
the coast-line of Peru, from one extremity to the
other, appears as a dreary, unbroken panorama
of desolate, bare, sun-baked mountains and plains.
So far as the eye can ascertain, it is an uninhabited
wilderness, backed by a range of mountains void of
all traces of vegetation, and shrouded in a haze of
tantalising persistency. Actually, there are large
tracts of land under irrigation in the various coastal
valleys, but these are so swallowed up in the general
air of desolation which prevails that, to all intents
and purposes, they do not exist. Such then is the
gloomy and depressing spectacle which unfolds
before the gaze of the expectant traveller as he
approaches the shore of this truly remarkable
country. It must have been stories of fabulous
wealth in the interior which prompted the Spaniards
of old to land and penetrate the wild mountain
passes of the Andes ; however, as a high wall often
only increases one's desire to view what is on the
other side, so possibly this formidable rocky barrier,
rising out of a wilderness of sand, only urged
Pizarro and his men forward to explore the mysteries
which its very presence seemed to indicate lay
on the other side. 15

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
My own impression, on viewing the country
for the first time, was very much of this order,
and even on the particular occasion of which I
write, when, with a rattling of chains and much
shouting, the S.S. Palena came to anchor off the
port of Pacasmayo, my mind was already at work
contemplating the wonderful sights I was going to
see in the not far distant future. On two previous
occasions I had penetrated well into the interior
of central Peru, but each time had retraced my steps
before reaching the great forest country. Now
I was bound for Iquitos, at the head waters of deep
sea navigation on the great Amazon river itself,
and in the heart of the primeval forest. This
meant weeks of difficult riding over bleak mountain
ridges, long, weary stretches on foot, followed by
days of monotonous canoeing along the silent
highways of the jungle. Once in Iquitos it was
my intention to attempt a considerably more
difficult journey, returning by a more northerly
route across a little-known and uninhabited region,
through the great barrier called the Pongo de
Manseriche, and thence to Paita on the Pacific
coast, some 200 miles north of where I was now
about to land. It was not surprising that I viewed
my surroundings with interest and speculated on
the outcome of my long-cherished plans.
Pacasmayo is a typical town of the Peruvian
littoral, sprawled out on the edge of an appar
ently limitless stretch of glaring white sand, and
thoroughly uninviting from every aspect. A long,
antique pier of structural ironwork, exposed to
the full force of the heavy swells whichjperiodically
come heaving in from the Southern Pacific, sticks
16

PACASMAYO

its ungainly neck out from the shore into the less
shallow water beyond, where coastal steamers can
anchor near its head, and transfer their cargo by
means of lighters to its flimsy structure. The only
other point of interest in the place is the railway
station, the terminus of a short spur line running
up into the foot-hills of the Andes. The doings of
the social and commercial world seem to be bound
up in the arrival or departure of trains and steamers ;
but as only a bi-weekly service is maintained to
the mountains, and not more than three steamers
drop anchor in the open roadstead during the same
period of time, the community spends most of its
existence in a state of suspended animation.
The arrival of the Palena, although late in
the day, caused the usual flurry of excitement.
Fleteros came crowding round the ship's sides in
their little row-boats, shouting amongst themselves,
and offering their services to passengers who wished
to be put on shore. By the time I had entrusted
my belongings to the tender mercies of one of
them, and performed the acrobatic feat of being
transferred from the ship to the pier, darkness
had fallen, and I made my way to the Hotel
Ferrocarril in search of accommodation for the
night. The following morning, at the Customs Office,
the shining barrel of my rifle caught the eye of an
over-zealous inspector who was looking over my
gear. Although I held a special permit, issued
by the Peruvian Government, to carry it, nothing
but the complete unpacking of all my possessions
would satisfy him that I was not attempting a
revolutionary movement. Rather than submit to

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
this quite unnecessary procedure, I called on the
chief of customs, to whom I happened to have
a letter of introduction from my good friend
Sr. Malaga in Salaverry. He was courtesy itself,
and after I had explained my position everything
was adjusted satisfactorily.
Foreigners travelling in this part of the world
often labour under the delusion that letters of
introduction are unnecessary formalities. This is
obviously wrong, as the more one carries the
easier it is to get about the country';] besides,
Peruvians, whether they be of the best families on
the coast, or some petty half-caste official in the
interior, are naturally reluctant about approaching
European strangers. All that one wants is just a
card of introduction, which is enough to open the
gates of hospitality, and assist one over innumer
able small obstacles which, although not great in
themselves, are of considerable magnitude in the
aggregate. My belongings once clear of the Customs, I was
free to arrange my departure for Cajamarca. The
railway already referred to carries one rapidly over
the major portion of the distance (105 kilometres, to
be exact), and in so doing saves two or three days
of very hard riding up the Jequetepeque valley.
Ordinarily, I should have had to take one of the
bi-weekly trains, but thanks to the courtesy of the
Peruvian Corporation, who operate the line, I was
able to make the journey in a private rail-car instead
of the usual stuffy coach, and on June 3rd, in
company with Sr. Esteves, chief accountant of the
line, I started on my long trek eastward.
Seated comfortably under an awning, to keep
16

THE START

off the sun's rays, and the fresh morning air blowing
in our faces, we sped along over the sandy desert
at a speed of 60 kilometres an hour, stopping here
and there to take photographs or else examine some
curious rock formation which took my fancy.
First, San Pedro flitted by with its orange trees
and extensive tracts of irrigated land, then large
holdings of cotton and sugar-cane or rice, a few
settlements also, like Yonan or Llanllan, with their
small haciendas and still smaller chacras. The
further we went the more desolate became our
surroundings ; the irrigated lands, with their
luxuriant green vegetation, gave way to great
moraines of coarse gravel and piles of barren rock,
with only an occasional cactus to relieve their
sombre outlines. The mountains closed in on
either side, and many a time it looked as if further
progress would be out of the question, but the
railway was not easily defeated, and with extra
ordinary skill oscillated from one bank of the
river to the other, through deep cuttings and
tunnels, twisting and turning and squeezing its
way through what seemed to be the most impossible
places, till at Chilete, the rail-head, 2,865 feet
above sea level, it finally came to an abrupt end.
The seven hours occupied in making the journey
passed all too quickly, and I would have much
enjoyed further conversation with my companion,
but as it was necessary for him to be back on the
coast before evening shadows fell, he lost no time
in handing me over to the stationmaster, and with
a few kind words of farewell left me to my fate.
Although 2 p.m., no signs of life were visible
amongst the dilapidated bamboo shanties which
19

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
surrounded the station ; even the hotel-keeper was
enjoying an afternoon siesta, and could not be
aroused easily from the atmosphere of tranquil
indifference which the place seemed to radiate.
Considerable shaking revived him to such a point
that he was able to take an intelligent interest in
my wants, and by the time he had assigned me a
clean little room to sleep in, he had become more or
less talkative. I took advantage of the opportunity
to enquire into possible means of continuing my
journey to Cajamarca, and learnt that on the morrow,
when the train arrived, there would be arriero and
mules by the dozen to transport me anywhere at
the word of command. I failed to see how men and
beasts could ever be conjured up amongst such a
deserted pile of rocks, but he assured me repeatedly
that there was no cause for anxiety, and he himself
would personally arrange everything for me. Until
three o'clock to-morrow I was to make myself at
home, doing anything I pleased : the whole town
was at my disposal. With this last burst of
hospitality, he and the stationmaster retired to
the privacy of their own homes, and once more
Chilete assumed the appearance of a deserted
ash-heap. For a moment I stood out in the open, under a
clear blue sky, feeling that many days spent in such
a place would cause the most vigorous individual
to lapse into a complete state of forgetfulness.
The sun blazed down with unrelenting vigour :
its scorching rays reflected off every stone and
pebble until the whole valley shimmered and rocked
in its heat ; then I also suffered a temporary lapse,
and finding a sheltered spot near at hand, sixtv
20 J

rP~T- ¦.'-'¦-: ¦ - ' ..

TRAD

IAVING CHILETE FOR THE INTERIOR.

CHILETE

minutes of my own life went down on the records
of eternity as a complete blank.
Later on in the afternoon I made short journeys
up two of the three valleys which unite at this
point to form the Jequetepeque ; the central fork,
called the Magdalena, would be the one to take on
the morrow, so there was no need to examine it
now. The San Pablo had quite a torrent running
down it, but the one to the southward was as dry
as a bone, although I was told that in the rainy
season it carries quite a large volume of water.
Both are barren and deserted, and serve only as
arteries of travel to more fertile lands on the top of
the mountains beyond.
The cool air of the night came as a great relief,
and I slept soundly, only to face another day of
blinding heat in the sun. The morning did not
bring any signs of activity such as I had been
expecting ; nine o'clock passed, ten o'clock, eleven,
and still silence reigned supreme in the stifling
atmosphere of the narrow valley. At noon an odd
donkey or two strayed quietly into the town from
nowhere, and then a few mountain cholos appeared
as if by magic from amongst the rocks. A little
later droves of mules and donkeys began to arrive,
accompanied by men, women, and children, most
of the latter carrying big bundles, which were
deposited near the railway track. Some of the
mules also carried cargoes, and the general scene
took on quite an animated appearance as packs were
removed and the animals tethered in groups nearby
to be fed. The human element deposited itself
on the bare ground, displaying assortments of fruit
for sale, and in noisy tones discussed the latest
21

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
news from the hills. Each minute brought new
arrivals to join in the din, which was rapidly
assuming formidable proportions. The climax was
reached at 3 p.m., when the harsh hooting of a
locomotive resounded up the valley, and the
bi-weekly train came panting up the grade into
the station, enveloped in a cloud of dust. The
transformation was complete : Chilete was now the
hub of the universe, an ant-hill of sweltering human
energy. It was eight o'clock before the pandemonium had
subsided, and the majority of the natives had
huddled themselves up in heaps amongst the bare
rocks, sound asleep under the stars.
In the early hours of the following day an anti
climax was again touched as the train started back
on its return journey to the coast ; bundles were
then rolled up, packs adjusted, and the populace
faded away as mysteriously as it had come. For a
time the shouts of some particularly energetic
arriero driving his mules homeward could be heard
echoing amongst the mountains, but these became
more and more faint till they also died away entirely,
and Chilete once more settled down to another
period of prolonged slumber.
Now, it happened that a certain Sr. Santiago
Lozno, owner of a hacienda half-way between
Chilete and Cajamarca, was one of the throng
that had come down from the mountains, his object
being the forwarding of some supplies recently
arrived at the rail-head. He was introduced to me
by Sr. Fernandini, the stationmaster, and at once
proposed that I travel in company with his son,
who, like myself, was bound for Cajamarca; so

ON MULE BACK

it came about that, as the blanket of forgetfulness
once more enveloped Chilete, Pedro Lozno and
myself, mounted on sturdy mules, set our faces
eastward, following the easy trail up the Magdalena
valley. The sun was high in the heavens, curiously
marked lizards scurried over the burning rocks at
our feet, and an occasional brightly coloured bird
flitted across the path ahead of us. Here and
there a few patches of sugar-cane were encountered,
but for the most part the river held undisputed
claim to the narrow strip of valley land, which, in
turn, was fenced in by towering walls of sombre
looking mountains. June being the dry season,
there were frequent corners where we could forsake
our narrow trail and take a short cut across some
flat gravel bar, which greatly assisted our progress
and added to the interest of the journey.
After four hours we rode into La Vina, taking
lunch, and incidentally purchasing a fine mule
for £20 — a splendid animal, accustomed to the
mountains, and in first-class condition for the long
journey that lay before me.
An hour and three-quarters later we reached the
village of Magdalena, having crossed to the north
bank of the river at a point half-way between the
two places. Outside the village I was greatly
surprised to see two antique, rusty locomotives
marooned in the centre of a small field of sugar
cane. Lozno explained that the railway had
originally been built up to this point, and that some
years ago a cloud-burst had washed most of it away ;
no money was forthcoming to make repairs, therefore
the entire section above Chilete had been abandoned.
23

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
Our destination for the night, San Cristobel, was
reached in the evening after 8f hours on the road,
the last section of the journey being of particular
interest, as we left the dry valley, and started a
climb up the steep mountain sides, encountering
on the way the first natural vegetation I had seen.
Wild flowers were plentiful, and the air was fragrant
with heliotrope, which blossomed in abundance on
either side.
Sr. Lozno 's farm was at an elevation considerably
above this, and much too cold to support anything
in the way of flowering shrubs ; nevertheless, it
was a pleasant spot to arrive at, and I was offered
all the hospitality possible at the hands of the
family. It seemed odd that after the infernal heat of
Chilete one should ever have to complain of the cold,
but Peru is full of surprises, and the unexpected
generally seems to happen. When we got under
weigh the next morning, there was a damp mist
hanging round the mountain tops that penetrated to
the marrow of one's bones. The trail was a series
of disagreeable mud-holes, and conditions were so
diametrically opposite to what we had experienced
the day before that it was impossible to realise we
were in the same world.
For two hours Lozno and myself rode up the
undulating rock-strewn slopes which led to the
summit of the divide, some 12,000 feet above sea
level. The chill in the air remained even when the
sun had dissipated the fog, reminding us of our
elevated position in the world, and as we passed
numerous pack-trains bound for the rail-head I
almost envied them to think that within a few hours'
24

CAJAMARCA

time they would be perspiring in the heat, whereas
many days would elapse before I should again feel
really warm.
The descent to Cajamarca occupied an hour,
and was rather steep ; but what a magnificent sight
it was to look down into that great bowl-like valley
where so many tragedies connected with the old
Inca race had been enacted. Eucalyptus tree9,
although not indigenous to the country, had been
planted extensively since the days of the Spaniards,
and their graceful foliage, mixed with the large
tracks of alfalfa and green pasture-land, produced a
landscape-garden effect of great beauty.
Like other towns on the mountains, Cajamarca
cannot be called modern in any sense of the word,
but although shorn of its former grandeur, it is
still a very important commercial centre, and the
one hope of all its citizens is that the railway, whose
present extremity lies shrivelled up at Chilete, will
one day take a new lease of life and find a more
appropriate terminus in their own picturesque
town. Nowhere in all my travels have I had to live
under worse conditions than obtained at the Hotel
Amazonas, where it was my misfortune to sojourn
during four whole days, while preparations for the
journey ahead of me went slowly forward. This
place has as great a reputation amongst travellers
for its filth as the Chinaman's restaurant nearby
has for its cheap and bountiful food supply ; but
the low cost of living of the latter did not in any way
compensate for the dirty surroundings of the former,
and nothing would persuade me to remain longer
in the place than was absolutely essential.

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
The problem of continuing on my way alone was
not so easy as it seemed. There was no scarcity
of men or animals to undertake a trip to Chilete,
but to cross the Maranon, and go to Chachapoyas
or beyond, was a task no one would consider.
To avoid wasting valuable time I bought three
more mules, which gave me four in all, but when
I had them and their pack-saddles ready for the
road, I found it just as hard to get the services of a
muchacho who would act as guide. All the men
who presented themselves discoursed at length on
the dangers of such a trip : robbers and bears
would be encountered, so they must first consult
their wives, daughters, mothers, and sisters ; besides,
two days would be required to go home and make
their arrangements ; in other words, they had no
wish to accompany me.
One curious individual promised to come, but
never turned up at the hour mentioned. I acci
dentally met him later on in the day, and asked
rather angrily why it was that he had said he would
come when he had no intention of doing so. He
replied quite calmly that it seemed so rude to say
no to the seiior that he had to say yes.
Some one suggested that the chief of police would
be a good man to see, and I found him full of
promises, but here again the mythical man whom
he said would be ready at ten o'clock never appeared,
so I went to head-quarters to make enquiries. The
chief was out, but his resourceful assistant came to
the rescue. " No muchacho as yet, senor, but just
wait a minute," and we sallied forth into the street,
accosting several vagabonds in succession that were
loafing outside. None showed any desire to go

DIFFICULTIES OF GETTING MEN
even as far as Celendin, which, although barely
fifteen leagues away, was for them like an excursion
into the unknown.
Late in the afternoon my hopes ran high as I
saw the chief himself, with a muchacho at heel,
bearing down on me in the street ; it looked hopeful,
but when I divulged the direction in which I was
going the timid fellow refused to come on account
of robbers which, he said, infested the trail.
I went back to the hotel in despair, only to find
a man sitting on the doorstep actually anxious to
pilot me as far as Celendin. He seemed to be full
of energy, said he knew the trail, and would provide
his own animal instead of going on foot. I could
hardly believe my ears, but it was a fact, nevertheless.
With a few soles in advance, and instructions to be
on hand at six the following morning, I went to
say good-bye to my various friends, who had done
their best to make my sojourn pleasant.
One man in particular I wanted to see was called
Enrique Sourita Mariscal ; he had taken on the
task of shoeing my four mules, and had done it in
first-class style. It is seldom that one meets really
energetic and capable men in the interior, so that
when one does it is only natural to recall them with
pleasure. For those who have anything to do with Latin-
American countries the greatest of all virtues
necessary is patience — of the vices, the most
essential is a complete indifference to time.
Without one of these two life becomes positively
unbearable, as it is immaterial to the average native
whether a thing is done to-day, to-morrow, or not
at all. I can safely say that every morning during
27

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the six months which followed my departure from
Cajamarca I was called upon to exercise patience
and self-restraint in some degree, more or less.
On looking back, I often wonder how it was I
did not murder, out of sheer desperation at
their stupidity, every arriero or muchacho that
accompanied me in my travels. My exit from this
ancient city was a typical case in point.
Instead of six, we left at nine, and on enquiring
of the boy why he had not been on hand at the hour
arranged, he replied cheerfully that the place
where we would rest for the night was only a short
distance away, and his mother had told him he
needed more sleep, so he supposed nine o'clock
would be quite early enough to make a start. It
never seemed to occur to him that I might know the
distance that lay before us, or that all arrangements
had been made for having the animals on hand at
six o'clock. Words, of course, were quite useless,
and after two hours' waiting my patience was
pretty nearly exhausted ; without further ado the
cavalcade clattered out of the town over the old
Inca road, the boy taking the lead, followed by
the three pack animals, with myself bringing up
the rear.
We crept along at a snail's pace to Banos, and
thence over a slim thread of a trail to Polloc, which
we reached in seven hours.
It might be well to mention that the Inca roads
are not the marvels of engineering skill which they
are generally supposed to be. They consist solely
of flattish rocks laid out on the ground in a more
or less regular manner, suitable, no doubt, for the
old Incas who always travelled on foot, but quite
28

ROBBERS

impossible for mules, who show their opinion by
invariably avoiding them.
In the evening, after supper, as we sat round the
table smoking, my host, Sr. Laredo, told me many
things of interest about the part of the world
he lived in. He confirmed the stories current
concerning the robbers who infested the district,
and who will not stop at murder if it suits their
purpose. Apparently they live in a village called
Encafiada, close by, and are so numerous that the
authorities cannot cope with them ; the result is
they rob and kill as they please, but generally
choosing defenceless pedestrians rather than armed
men on horseback. He added that he had personally
killed several, and always carried a rifle across his
saddle-bow for fear of attack.
Just how true all of this was I could not say, but
I do know that he so unnerved my boy with his
stories that when I woke at five-fifteen the next
morning I found he had decamped for good,
taking one or two of my belongings with him.
For a moment it looked as if my return to
Cajamarca was inevitable, but luck favoured me,
as a solitary mountain cholo, whom Sr. Laredo
knew, was going to Celendin, and agreed to
accompany me for the price of a couple of soles.
It turned out very fortunate for me that my original
man had deserted, for I discovered he knew nothing
of the trail, and would probably have landed me
in a much worse predicament.
Sr. Laredo accompanied me for about one
hour before bidding me farewell, leaving me
and my newly found cholo friend — whose face,
by the way, was considerably swollen, and bound
29

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
up with dirty rags — to continue on the road in
solitary state.
The day's ride was one of unusual length and
exceptional melancholy. It took twelve hours to
reach our destination, and as my man's aching jaw
prevented him from carrying on any conversation
whatsoever, I hardly spoke a word during the entire
time. Outside of the irregular moaning of the
wind, and the chink of cold, icy mountain torrents,
scurrying along in all the vigour of early youth, the
silence was rarely broken.
Much has been written about the atmosphere of
loneliness and despair which broods over these
deserted Andean uplands, but words can never
describe the true feeling of utter desolation which
prevails. My personal discomfort was greatly increased as
a driving mist obscured the sun most of the day,
making it difficult to keep the trail, especially on
the last upward slope to the summit of the pass.
Here we halted fifteen minutes to allow the animals
to rest and nibble at the short grass which grew
about. The air was bitterly cold, and a piercing
north wind came blustering over the ridge with
Hunlike aggressiveness.
Quite a large number of flowers, resembling
enormous daisies, littered the ground, smiling up
in friendly fashion, and bidding us welcome to
their arctic home ; but I noticed they had no
stalks, and lay flat on the turf, as if frightened to
raise their precious heads above the grass roots
for fear of having them blown off by the icy blast
which swept over them.
Before darkness fell we had reduced our altitude
30

THE END OF A HARD RIDE
by several thousands of feet, the atmosphere had
changed to that of England in springtime, and
not far off in the valley below was our destination,
spread out in chequer-board formation on a carpet
of restful green.
At seven o'clock we drew rein at the house of
Sr. Diaz Bourga, to whom I had a letter of
introduction. He was a large, corpulent man,
extremely amiable, and anxious to assist me in
every way possible. He suggested that after such
a strenuous twelve hours my animals should not
continue the journey without first being given a full
day's rest in which to recuperate. I fully concurred,
as, in addition, there were many things I wanted to
do and see myself before continuing on my way.
Both in cleanliness and intelligence I found the
population of Celendin away ahead of that of
Cajamarca ; furthermore, they were not anything
like as timid when it came to leaving their native
heath. I spoke to several men about going with me
to Chachapoyas, and no one showed any signs of
misgiving concerning the dangers of the trip ; it
was simply a question of pay, which was easily
adjusted, and in short order a young fellow was
engaged on satisfactory terms.
My gear needed a certain amount of rearranging,
and further purchases of camp equipment had to
be made, as from now on I would spend my nights
camped out in the open, there being few places
where suitable shelter would be found.
I have often been asked the best way to pack one's
belongings when travelling in the interior, but I
am reluctant about giving advice, as views on the
subject differ so widely, and every one has his own
31

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
particular likes and dislikes. There are some who
think that the nearer they come to travelling in
European fashion the better; and although I am
quite aware that leather suit-cases and trunks have
been transported over some of the worst country
imaginable, I have never considered this a good
argument for doing likewise, as leather rots and
turns mouldy, and trunks are very bulky, even for
the best trails. In the case of odd-shaped packages,
also, these are frequently left behind and forgotten,
or if they are insecurely wrapped up are liable to
be damaged on the road.
With my own kit I always strived to obtain
compactness, lightness in weight, and uniformity
as to size ; then, as my travels were not confined
to the mountains alone, but included journeys on
foot and in canoe, I had to introduce further
modifications to suit the last-named conditions
also. It is not unusual to hear people talk of the huge
cases which their Indians have transported for
hundreds of miles as if it were something to be
proud of, but these same people never mention the
number of similar cases which those same cargo-
bearers have accidentally allowed to fall down a
cliff, or drop into some swift-running river —
a frequent occurrence if an Indian finds his task a
little beyond him, or is bullied by his master.
Almost invariably I have found it easier to get
six Indians to carry 30 lb. each than two to pack a
load of 90 lb. each; or again, one man would much
sooner carry a compact, comfortable load of 40 lb.
rather than half that weight consisting of long and
irregular bundles which get caught on every

PLANNING FOR A JOURNEY
protruding branch or rock, and generally impede
his progress.
My equipment was reduced to the simplest
possible terms : just four wooden boxes, such as
are found all over South America for shipping
the usual double five-gallon tins of kerosene oil.
I had replaced nails with wood screws, covered the
outside of each box with waterproof paper, and then
sewn two layers of sacking neatly on top of that
again, taking care to pad corners and edges first.
The open end of each box had a waterproof flap,
and inside a piece of wood jammed in between the
sides to act as a spacing block, which prevented the
sides being bulged in when the rope had been
tightly tied round the outside. Two of the cases
weighed 60 lb. each when packed tightly with the
spare gear, the other two weighed 40 lb. each ; in
addition, one neat, short bundle, consisting of camp-
bed, tripod, and blankets, weighed 40 lb. ; thus, my
entire belongings made two compact cargoes of
120 lb., which any normal mule could carry easily.
Any other odds and ends under 20 lb. at the outside
would be carried by the spare animal. Mules, as
a rule, can carry loads ranging from 200 to 300 lb.,
but later experience showed me that on long
journeys of steady going, day after day, the 120 lb.
I allowed was too much, and 100 or even 80 lb. was
a better weight to figure on.
In the woods these same boxes were handled
individually by the Indians without complaint, and
in canoes they stowed away as snugly as could be.
Yet another advantage was that, being uniform in
size, they could be arranged to form a convenient
table ; they also made a comfortable seat when
c 33

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
necessary, and at night an excellent wall to break
the force of the wind. In the river country,
clothing and such things are more conveniently
carried in light bags made locally, and treated with
rubber to keep out the water in case of an upset, but
cameras and tins of films, with their sharp corners,
soon cut the fabric if transported in this way, and
are therefore safer and better in light-weight wooden
cases such as I have already described.

34

CHAPTER II
After two agreeable days in the refreshing
atmosphere of Celendin I once more found myself
striking out over the eastern trail, eight o'clock
having sounded before we were well on the road.
As usual, my intentions of leaving at the reasonable
hour of six had been frustrated, only on this
occasion by the kind attentions of my warm-hearted
host, who was not at all anxious to have me go
away so soon. My new man had been on hand
early, and seemed quite energetic ; he was much
cleaner than the brave who accompanied me from
Polloc, who was a filthy fellow, although I must
admit that this did not impede his efficiency,
which was of the first order.
A nice level stretch over the valley was soon a
thing of the past, and we were confronted with a
quick climb of 3,000 feet up on to a razor-like edge
in cloud-land, then an equally abrupt descent of
8,000 feet way down to the banks of the Maranon
at Balsas. We camped at five o'clock alongside a
shack in the bottom of a narrow ravine, which
joined the main valley at no great distance away.
The river at this point describes numerous
contortions, but there is one straight stretch of more
or less smooth water about 400 yards long where
balsa rafts were originally used to ferry one over,
35

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
hence the reason for the place being called Balsas.
A respectable suspension bridge now spans the
foaming waters, and the traveller is thereby saved
considerable inconvenience and delay incidental to
the old methods of crossing.
At this season of the year the valley of the
Maranon takes on a decidedly funereal aspect,
which it retains up to December ; the many small
trees and shrubs which in the wet season brighten
the landscape with their verdure are now apparently
dead, and the dry leaves, still adhering to their
branches, seem to confirm the impression that they
have ceased to compete in the struggle for existence,
and have left the field of battle clear to the sun,
which glares down from the heavens above in triumr
phant glory. Mellowed by the shadows of evening, or
glistening in the abundant moonlight of the tropical
starry heaven, it is a bewitchingly beautiful spot
at any season, what with its weird shadows slanting
in all directions, fantastic outline of cactus growth,
and strange rock formations thrown heavenwards.
Two of my mules were slightly lame as the result
of the precipitous trail we had just passed over, and
although I allowed them a full day's rest, it did not
help very much, as at night they were subjected to
the ravages of vampire bats, causing a further
drain on their already reduced vitality.
For two nights I revelled in my surroundings,
but my joy of being warm, and at an elevation of
only 3,000 feet above sea level, was greatly offset by
the thought of a 14,000 feet pass, called Calle Calle,
which lay between me and Chachapoyas. The
name was given to it by the old Incas, and translated,
means " Hush, Hush," or " The Great Silence."
36

THE MARANON

Just how it was to be surmounted was already
causing me some uneasiness.
On the east bank of the Maranon our course lay
due north for a mile or so, past the village of Balsas,
and then up a ravine, keeping to the bed of a small
stream that came chattering down from nowhere
in particular. Thousands of wild lime-trees, laden
with fruit, lined its banks, the ground beneath yellow
with fruit rotting where it fell. Usually, I cannot
recommend river beds as trails, but in an hour or two
I looked back on this particular one with feelings
of positive joy in comparison with the ledges we
found ourselves scrambling over.
At the foot of one very precipitous descent we
encountered a dead mule in the last stages of
decay ; it spoke eloquently of what was in store
for us. " There may be other dead mules higher
up," I remarked to my muchacho, but the point
was lost on him completely. It turned out to be
almost a prophetic statement, as the big pack
animal showed signs of fatigue, and his cargo had
to be transferred to the small black one. An hour
later even the pack saddle was too much for him,
and he refused to budge an inch, so I secured him
to a rock, and continued up the interminable slope
to a more level spot. The boy went back to fetch
up the exhausted animal, while I proceeded on
alone to explore the trail a mile or so in advance.
Fortune favoured me once again, as an old tumble
down shelter, the remnants of a place known as
Carixal, was but a short distance away, and nearby
it a small spring of clean water. Hurrying back I
brought up the remaining animals, and at five-
thirty we were camped for the night.

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
It had been a strenuous day's work, but the
many magnificent views obtained more than com
pensated for the hardships encountered. This
remarkable valley, which we crossed in a diagonal
direction, appeared like an enormous gash on the
face of the earth, a scar emblematical of the battle
fought between earth and water. Even to-day
the river is not satisfied with having sawn its way
out from amongst the giant peaks which held
it in bondage for so many centuries ; it still
grumbles and growls away to itself, undermining
the mountain sides whenever possible, and then
angrily sweeping away the debris that comes
sliding down as a result.
The pessimist says that troubles never come
singly, quite oblivious of the fact that blessings
follow the same rule. I had been the recipient
of one or two of the latter quite recently and was
hardly expecting another for some time to come,
yet fate was about to spring a pleasant surprise
on me.
The tinkle of a bell and shouts of " mula, mula,"
broke the silence of the evening air, as two
arriero, with six mules, drew up at our encamp
ment. They were two brothers, Montoya by
name, on their way back to Chachapoyas, without
any cargo to hinder their progress ; herein lay
the solution of the troubles which beset me, and
before turning in Manuel Montoya, the elder
of the two, was the proud possessor of my sick
mule, his only obligation being the transportation
of its cargo to my destination. It resulted, not only
in a load off the mule's back, but a very decided
weight off my own mind, as well.
38

A REST

It was a cheerful party which set out the next
morning, and the three men fraternised together
in a way that amused me not a little. Yet again
my pleasure was short-lived ; the little black mule
now began to show signs of exhaustion. Dark
clouds hovering round the mountain tops were
a clear indication that it was quite impossible
to cross the divide to-day, and after ascending
3,000 feet we pitched camp once more just below
the level of the clouds, in a cool atmosphere, on
a grassy patch surrounded with bushes and small
trees. The difference in climate between the east
and west sides of the Marafion valley is very
pronounced, there being much more rain on the
eastern slope and considerably more vegetation,
especially in the neighbourhood of 10,500 feet,
where there is a belt of dense forest growth of
small trees.
After a restful night under the stars conditions
did not look any more hopeful ; the morning broke
misty and cold, and the higher up we got the worse
it became. We passed a very good tambo or
shelter called Chanchillo, which, with good animals,
we should have reached the first night out from
Balsas; then a little later a spot called Tambo
Viejo, or the " Old Shelter "—so old, in fact,
that nothing remained to indicate its presence
except a clearing amongst the trees. Just after
this place the remnants of a trail appeared coming
in on our right. I asked the men about it.
" Oh, it goes to Balsas, and is more direct."
" Then why did we not take it ? " I asked.
" Because it is worse than the one we came by,"
39

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
 i 
 1 
was the reply. It must have been an appalling
piece of work, as I could not seriously conceive
anything worse than the one we had travelled
over. Although no rain had fallen in the night we
had only gone a hundred yards when a drizzle
set in, which soon turned to heavy rain driven
before a strong wind. It became bitterly cold,
the rain changed to sleet, and I was soaked to the
skin. The little mule was entirely played out ;
he hung his head down dejectedly, and would
only advance a few yards at a time. It was no
good driving him ; with the utmost patience I
coaxed him forward little by little, sorely tempted
to turn back, but I continued under the unpleasant
conditions which prevailed, and pitched camp
close to the upper edge of the tree line, as it was
palpable that the conquest of the pass would have
to be postponed until the morrow.
Once more I bargained with Montoya for the
transportation of a second cargo to Chachapoyas,
but I paid him in cash this time, rather than hand
over the sick mule, as I preferred, in spite of the
set-backs which we had experienced, to nurse
this animal and get him to our destination. I
constructed a rude shelter of leaves and branches,
in which, after infinite pains, I was able to start
a good fire. It was with the greatest difficulty
that I got my gear in place, and never have I spent
such a disagreeable day, or still more disagreeable
night. The rain and sleet descended upon us
incessantly, and there was nothing to do but huddle
by the fire and try to keep warm.
All night long the wind howled and whistled
40

THE MARANON AT BALSAS.

A TERRIBLE NIGHT

overhead, not in one continual roar, but in periodic
waves of varying intensity. One minute it seemed
as if the storm had passed, but the next a booming
in the distance proclaimed the approach of another.
The spirits of the wind were indeed let loose ;
they came jostling and scurrying over the tree
tops, borne on the tempest, and shrieking with
delight at the confusion they wrought. Nearer
and nearer they came, till, with one last burst
of fury, they swept overhead, showering down
rain and breaking off branches which crashed to
earth, miraculously missing our small encamp
ment. Not satisfied with the havoc thus made,
these restless spirits would come hurrying back
on their tracks with even greater violence, and
so on all night through, backwards and forwards
swept the storm, unable to make up its mind
whether to leave us alone or not. As the morning
approached it finally exhausted itself, and after
a short sleep I awoke enveloped in a damp mist,
without a breath of wind stirring.
The little mule, still exhausted, had once more
to be coaxed a few yards at a time over the bleak
puna land. Fortunately, the atmosphere was clear
and there was no rain, but the wind was cold,
and as we approached the divide it became very
chilly. On the summit the wind came swirling
over in an icy blast that seemed to sap one's last
spark of energy. Round about lay numerous
skeletons of animals which had succumbed to
the hardships of the trail, and for about the fourth
time I had a mind to return and not continue a
journey which had started so unfortunately.
Looking back, I could see the clearing of Tambo
41

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
Viejo below me, and also, away over on the other
side of the Maranon valley, a spot we had passed
seven days ago. How easy it would have been
to slip down the mountain side and laze away a
few weeks in the warmth and comfort of Balsas !
It was a pleasant thought, but one I was not inclined
to linger over, so I hardened my heart, secured
the lead rope of the sick mule to my saddle, and
with a sharp grade in my favour simply hauled
the unfortunate animal down-hill into a more
equable climate, 2,000 feet below, where I left
him to rest, proceeding on by myself to Pomococha.
Further down the abrupt and rocky nature
of the trail changed to an undulating series of
mud-holes, representing a new form of fright-
fulness which I had not encountered before ;
the valleys, also, on this side of the divide, assumed
quite a different aspect. Trees of small size were
abundant. There was much fresh green colour
in the landscape, and the sound of running waters
was constantly in my ears.
I passed Luy near the upper limit of forest
growth, on a boggy slope, where one of the main
forks of the Pomococha river rises. It was a
collection of some four or five huts about a quarter
of a mile apart, and the most cheerless spot
imaginable. Pomococha, on the other hand, looked
inviting, and at one time must have been quite a
settlement. To-day a single tumble-down shelter
remains, but it had a roof for which I was thankful,
and I was glad to sleep under it for two nights
in preference to being out in the open. It
needed a thorough cleansing, in view of the
fact that stray cattle generally used it to shelter
42

POMOCOCHA

in out of the cold, but this was not a long task,
and a fire was soon burning merrily, over which
the evening meal was prepared.
Montoya and his brother had taken full advan
tage of the good weather to get as far away from
the cold zone as possible with the sick mule that
I had sold them ; I had not seen them since early
morning, and had travelled most of the day alone.
My boy had remained with the small black mule
till a late hour, covered him with a blanket, and
had then come on to the tambo, carrying the bridle
and pack saddle himself. The following day he
went back to where the animal had been left, quite
expecting to find him dead, but fortunately he was
alive, and reached camp in the afternoon, where
he could get fairly good pasture and a little sunshine
to warm him up. None of the mules liked the
heavy frost which descended upon us at night ;
we did our best to arrange things for their comfort,
but they seemed to prefer to get out into the open
and shiver.
The back of our trip, so far as Chachapoyas
was concerned, was now broken, and in comparison
we had quite a smooth trail ahead of us ; provided
we took it in easy stages there was no doubt but
what we should arrive safely at our destination
with all our animals and belongings intact.
The journey to Leimebamba, a small settle
ment at the junction of the rivers Pomococha
and Patria, was over green pasture-land, and
through charming woodland glades, cool and fresh
in the morning air. The sign of alfalfa growing
in abundance on the outskirts of the settlement
reminded me that the animals deserved a good
43

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE

feed by way of a change, as since leaving Celendin
their fare had been very meagre.
They were devouring some tender green leaves
with great relish when I was accosted by a chola
woman, who explained that she had two daughters
lying very ill and would I come and minister unto
them. It was in vain I protested that I was an
engineer and knew nothing about medicine ; that
made no difference to her — I was a gringo, that
is to say, a foreigner — and therefore knew more
about medicine than the natives, so would I come
at once. I supposed that a visit would do no harm,
so allowed myself to be carried off bodily to the
hut where the old woman's daughters lay.
I was ushered into a room from which every
ray of light and breath of fresh air had been
religiously excluded. On a couple of rude beds
lay the sick girls, both as white as paper, and
apparently dead. It looked more like a case for
the undertaker. A brief examination showed that
they both had high temperatures, but what horrified
me was the colour of the skin, which, in the dim
candle-light, had all the appearance of leprosy.
I called for water and applied it to an ugly looking
spot, only to find the surface come away very
easily, exposing what appeared to be a secondary
skin below. It took me some seconds to grasp
the real situation — both girls were smeared over
from head to foot with a white, pasty-like
substance, a concoction prepared locally from herbs
and considered a great remedy against any kind
of fever.
It did not need a skilled doctor to see that a
thorough washing, with an ample supply of light
44

WORKING MIRACLES

and fresh air, were the most essential elements
to meet the case ; accordingly, with these instruc
tions, and plenty of quinine provided from my
personal stock, I repaired to another hut for lunch.
There was to be no peace for me that day ;
within an hour my patients had regained con
sciousness, and according to the mother had
completely recovered. The news spread like wild
fire all through the settlement, and in a short
interval of time I was pestered by natives all
clamouring that I come and see their relatives
who also were sick and ailing. It was futile to
resist, or turn a deaf ear to their persistent demands.
Reluctantly I made the rounds of the village,
administering drugs, cleansing the sores of the
injured with permanganate of potash, advising
the plentiful use of clean water and fresh air, and
in general preaching the first principles of hygiene.
It was incredible that there could be so much
sickness in so tiny a place, and I roughly estimated
that not more than ten per cent of the population
were healthy. It was a painful experience, but
I shall always recall the grateful words of these
poor ignorant people for the little things I was
able to do for them ; they offered me fruits, money,
furniture, and goodness knows what in return
for my services, but I was quite satisfied with their
thanks and let it go at that. My mules derived
considerable benefit ; and, since I would not accept
anything, a good many extra bundles of alfalfa
were given to the hungry animals, for which I
had a shrewd idea no charge was made.
After many hours' delay I was escorted out of
the town by the multitude as far as the bridge
45

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
which spans the River Patria, and, with cries of
" Viva el gringo ! " raised on all sides, I continued
over the broken trail which was to lead me to the
great Amazon country.
The day was well advanced, but the afternoon
sun was decidedly hot, and my animals made
excellent progress, thanks to the sumptuous banquet
which they had just partaken of. Before darkness
descended we had reached a point in the trail
where it branches westward over the Utcubamba
to Santo Thomas. Pitching camp close to the
river in a sheltered spot I turned in early, thinking
over the events of the day in comparison with
those already passed. No two had been exactly
alike and the majority totally different. The biting
frost, which had made night in the mountain
passes so disagreeable, was now a nightmare of
the past ; the air had become mild again, and even
the moon, shining in all its splendour, seemed
to radiate a little warmth from its usually cold
silvery rays. A few days ago I had been fighting
with nature for the life of my animals — and my
own, as well, for that matter — now I lay stretched
out in the open, without a care in the world to
worry me, all appreciation of time and matter
having been lost in the sense of freedom and farness
which surrounded me.
A curious feature of these parts is the very
marked line which exists both at the upper and
lower limits of forest growth ; above 10,500 feet
the atmosphere is too cold to support vegetation,
and below 7,800 feet it is too dry, this latter being
the approximate lower limit of the cloud stratum.
The high mountain tops to the westward are, of
46

CHILLO

course, bare but for pampa grass ; then comes a
broad band of dark wooded slopes, followed by
another bare stretch of sunburnt grass, with occa
sional limestone cliffs to relieve the monotony.
In the central zone there are a number of Indian
huts, some of which are quite picturesque, with
their whitewashed walls and tidy clearings sur
rounding them.
The next day we travelled on leisurely to Chillo
via Suta, over a trail which had its ups and downs
but was child's play after what we had been accus
tomed to ; the major portion of it was through
a semi-tropical zone producing bananas and oranges
in profusion, hot but intensely interesting, and
whispering the secrets of the great tropical forests
which were to come. My sick mule needed very
careful nursing, but patience won in the end
and brought him safely into camp with the other
animals. As our progress all day had been steadily down
the valley it was natural to expect a warmer place
to stop at for the night, but not at all ; the trails
never do what you expect of them in this part
of the world : this one at the last moment suddenly
left the banks of the river, as if tired of its company,
and zigzagged up a slope, resulting not only in
our losing all the benefits of our day's march,
but actually landing us at a higher elevation than
where we started from at the bridge of Santo
Thomas. Chillo is called a hacienda, but it is hardly an
ideal one, for there are no natural springs of water,
rain being the only supply of this rather essential
commodity. I must have struck a particularly
47

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
dry spell, as I could not even procure a potful
to cook my meal in from the surly half-caste
administrator, a gaunt, yellow-looking fellow,
apparently suffering from all the complaints known
to spleen and liver. There was only one dirty
pool of green liquid from which the animals drank
sparingly. As already pointed out, the wide and unexpected
variations in climate are rather perplexing to the
traveller, as he can rarely predict from day to day
what temperatures he is going to encounter. The
last stage of my ride to Chachapoyas was a typical
case in point.
By the light of an almost full moon we left
Chillo at the cold early hour of 5 a.m., maintain
ing a more or less steady down-grade all the way
to Condechaca, dry and bursting with heat in
the noonday sun. From this point we once
more laboriously climbed up into the wooded
zone, waterlogged and dripping with moisture ;
the ascent was very severe, consisting of a series
of steps cut into the mountain side. For some
miles we floundered over a muddy track through
the scanty forest, and then encountered another
rocky descent to our destination, where a more
temperate climate reigned.
At a distance Chachapoyas looked like a big
city, but at closer range I found it to be the usual
array of adobe houses, picturesque in their dilapida
tion. A more intimate acquaintance with it and
its citizens revealed the real charm of the place,
and I spent several days of keen enjoyment at
the house of Sr. Pablo Pizarro, deputy for the
district. The climate struck me as colder than
48

LOOKING ACROSS THE MARANON VALLEY.

ARRIVAL IN CHACHAPOYAS
that of Cajamarca, although this may be due to
the more exposed position which the town occupies
on a slightly inclined plateau. The atmosphere
was mild and invigorating, yet within an hour
or so's ride towards the valley of the Utcubamba
any tropical produce could be grown.

49

CHAPTER III
History has it that Chachapoyas was founded
in 1536 ; it certainly looks it, judging from the
archaic structures which line the narrow streets.
Its name signifies " the abode of strong men,"
but evidently the valiant gentlemen who were
responsible for its origination did not expend much
of their strength in building themselves a city
equal to their prowess.
The idea of the place is quite good, that is to
say, so far as the location and general plan are
concerned, but there it ends, as in execution it
is very poor indeed, and can only be classed on
a par with many other primitive towns of the
interior, although slightly larger and more pros
perous than the majority. It is no discredit to
the place that it has seen better days ; one really
wonders how it has stood the test of time at all,
in view of its isolation and remoteness. The
healthy climate which it enjoys is, no doubt,
responsible for much, but it is enterprising men,
such as Don Pablo Pizarro and a few others whom
I met, that have held the place together, and will
one day make it a really great city in every sense
of the word. Should the transcontinental railway
from Paita to the Maranon ever become an accom
plished fact, a spur line up the Utcubamba valley
50

A MUCH TRAVELLED PIANO
would bring about a wonderful change, as, outside
of agricultural interests, the district boasts of
considerable mineral wealth, which is bound to
lie dormant until adequate transportation facilities
present themselves. The possibility of making
a further connection with the town of Moyobamba
is rather more difficult, but here again, if these
two districts were given an opportunity of inter
changing produce, let alone ship it to the coast,
they would become centres of great importance,
and be able to support an enormous population.
Don Pablo's skill at overcoming obstacles was
forcibly brought home to me by the presence
of a fine Broadwood piano in his house. I gazed
at its massive frame and then reflected on my
experiences of the past few days, and the difficulties
I had encountered in transporting my small cargo.
I was informed that this inert mass of wood and
metal had been carried all the way from the coast
fifteen years ago. Good mules can make the
journey from Cajamarca to Chachapoyas in eight
days ; I had taken fourteen ; the piano had taken
three months and was apparently none the worse
for wear.
Amongst others who showed me considerable
courtesy during my stay were his Reverence Don
Emilio Lisson, Bishop of Chachapoyas, now
Archbishop of Lima ; also Sr. Thomas Mesia,
a progressive merchant of unusual foresight and
energy. It was thanks to his efforts that I was
able to find accommodation for developing the
many photos which I had taken to date. The
bishop was well known all over Peru for his kind
works, but it is only a few like myself who were
51

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
able to appreciate the practical turn which he
never lost sight of in the exercise of his multi
tudinous duties. Outside of the schools which
stand to his credit, he had installed a small electric
plant at the college, together with a number of
electric lights in the plaza and main streets.
Unfortunately, after everything was in working
order, the municipality would not provide coal
for the boiler; thus a very praiseworthy effort
was allowed to lapse through lack of local support,
and not through lack of coal, which is found in
abundance not very far away.
The day after my arrival I sent my boy back
along the trail we had come by in quest of the
little mule, which had been left to rest near a native
hut. About three in the afternoon I saw him
coming into town, head down, ears back, and with
slow, halting steps, just like a worn-out old man.
It was with some sense of satisfaction that I watched
him come up the street, and realised that all my
animals and baggage had now arrived safely. It
was nothing to be proud of, as the stories current
concerning the next leg of my journey to Moyo
bamba were enough to make me turn round and
head for the coast once more. Still, it was a good
omen for the future.
It was very evident that with the exception of
my own saddle-mule, none of the others would
be of any use without a very long period of idleness.
To purchase new animals looked rather impossible ;
besides, the prices asked were ridiculous. In
the end I reluctantly sold the animals which had
served me so well, and arranged with a man named
Mesa to transport my cargo for me, providing
52

A TYPICAL START

me also with a boy who could act as general
assistant. The day of my departure started in typical
Peruvian fashion — no boys, no mules, and no
arriero. Six o'clock was the usual hour for me
to set out, but Mesa arrived at ten o'clock to inform
me that everything would be ready by ten-thirty.
So far as time was concerned he was correct, but
the men were not those I had contracted for. They
were to have been the same fellows who had relieved
me of my two cargoes on the way from Cajamarca.
The excuse given was that one of them was to
go on a journey with Don Pablo the next morning,
and the other had a bad foot and could not possibly
move. I realised that some plot had been formed
to defeat me of my wishes, so I called the deal
off. In ten minutes' time the boy whose foot
was so bad that he could not move came into the
patio hale and hearty, and somewhat out of breath
as a result of having run most of the way to the
house. As I had supposed, he was not ill at all ; it
was simply a put-up scheme on the part of Mesa
to give me inferior men.
This class of Peruvian is a curse to the country,
profound liars, and glad to cheat you out of your
last penny if they get a chance. There is a saying
in the country that it is lawful to kill a Chinaman
or rob a gringo ; I know little of their attitude
towards the former, but there is a certain type
who never fail to rob a gringo whenever possible.
By noon we were actually on the move, but
the hour was too late to allow of our reaching
Molinopampa that day, and I had to content myself
with a little place off the main trail called Daguas,

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the home of my boy, Manuel Montoya. The
dwelling in which he and his family lived was very
quaint, what with its heavily thatched roof and
thick adobe walls, primitive in the extreme, but
a sound shelter from the heavy rains that fell during
the night. Men, women, and children, nine in
all, including myself, occupied the same room,
sleeping on the usual adobe benches raised at
one end to form a pillow, and built in as part of
the structure which constituted the house. Our
evening meal, consisting of corn, potatoes, and
some delicacies from my own larder was served
in a dark, smoke-begrimed room, in the centre
of which a fire smouldered on the earthen floor.
The smaller and less offensive pigs, aided by the
more enterprising fowls, made periodic raids upon
our food supply, and had to be driven off con
tinuously, as otherwise there would have been
nothing left for ourselves.
In view of the arduous journey that was to
come, I had provided the party with an ample
supply of food. There would be no chance of
buying any en route from the few half-caste settlers
whom we would encounter, as these people have
all they can do to provide sufficient for themselves,
let alone cater to passing strangers. Thanks to
the generosity of the Senora Pizarro there was
no chance of my running short ; she had even
taken the trouble to prepare some guava jelly
and cheese — luxuries which a mere man would
never have thought of.
An erroneous impression exists in the minds
of many that food, in the form of luscious fruits,
is found by the wayside, and all the weary traveller
54

OVER-RIPE FRUIT

has to do is to dismount and satisfy himself from
the abundance which Nature provides ; this is
far from the case, as there is only one that grows
wild, and that is the chirimoya, of which we had
seen thousands of trees since leaving Leimebamba.
Alas ! the fruit never matures on the tree, and has
to be picked and kept for six or seven days before
it is fit to eat. On a previous journey in the
Maranon valley I had done this with unpleasant
consequences, so that the large green chirimoyas
which I now saw, dangling at arm's length,
did not have the same tantalising effect
they might have had otherwise. I recall the
incident very clearly ; it was one of those wither-
ingly hot days, nothing had passed my lips since
early morning, and in my parched-up state I
decided to make a meal off several juicy chirimoyas
stowed away in my saddle-bags. They were over
ripe, but I devoured them greedily nevertheless,
with the inevitable result that the excessive heat
produced fermentation internally, and in a short
time my intoxication was so complete I could
barely keep astride my mule's back.
Ever since we had left Chachapoyas, Montoya
had made repeated efforts to broach some subject
that was on his mind. I had a good idea what
it was, and thought that the best policy was to
let him screw up sufficient moral courage to speak
without any assistance from me. It came out
in the end as I had expected. " Would the senor
be so kind as to let him go back to get the sick
mule I had given him and which he had left in
pasture at Leimebamba ; his other brother, Carmen,
knew the trail to Moyobamba better than he did
55

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
himself, and would be glad to go in his place."
Personally, it was quite immaterial to me which
went, so long as I had a true settlement of the
case and not some absurd excuse, such as being
confined to bed and unable to move. The matter
settled, both brothers rode with me to Molinopampa
next day, where it had been arranged that new
mules would be provided.
We were only three hours in the saddle, and if
everything had been ready we could have gone
on to Ventilla, five hours beyond ; but no, the
gobenador, a bare-footed cholo, said it would take
at least three hours to bring in the new animals
from the pampa ; therefore it would be better
to wait until the morrow, when I could leave at
whatever hour I liked to name. My choice was
six o'clock as usual, but, being interpreted into
the Peruvian tongue, this meant anywhere from
nine to .twelve. The usual excuses, such as I
now knew by heart, were forthcoming, but what
stirred my indignation more than anything else
was that I had paid the rogue Mesa a special price
for exceptionally strong animals, and now I was
confronted with three small mountain ponies
belonging to the gobenador himself, who subse
quently disclosed the information that he received
forty-two soles for the trip, whereas I had paid
Mesa a hundred and ten soles. It also transpired
that these animals were all close at hand when I
arrived, and were not, as I was told, many leagues
away on the pampa.
The facts of the case were that the gobenador
knew full well that if the animals had shown up
I would have refused them, gone back to
66

CHACHAPOYAS.

BITTEN BY GARAPATAS

Chachapoyas and complained to the prefect, whereas
by putting me off a day the mules I had come
by had returned, and there was nothing left to
do but go ahead with whatever was provided. I
was disgusted with the whole business. I did
not expect animals to fly, but I preferred to travel
faster than a well-regulated funeral, even over bad
trails ; it was with this in view that each cargo
had been reduced to 80 lb., so as to make it easier
for the mules, and now this rascally half-breed
had defeated my ends, incidentally benefiting
himself and not the unfortunate pack animals.
The disagreeable impressions made on me during
my stay in Molinopampa were not confined to
arrieros either. For the first time in my life I
was introduced to an insect called the garapata.
On awaking in the morning my body was covered
with the most ghastly looking blotches, blue,
black, and yellow, which might well have been
the plague, and caused me some alarm until the
true cause was explained to me. The bite is not
painful, and if not rubbed it does not become
inflamed, the colour dissolving out in much the
same manner as a bruise in about a week's time.
Although July, a great deal of rain had fallen
in the last few days and our progress was made
doubly difficult on that account. In the rainy
season the trail is considered almost impassable
and I certainly would not care to attempt it. The
greatest obstacle which it presents is the Jalca,
or pass known as Piscahuanuma, not quite as
high as Calle Calle, but feared by the natives to
a much greater extent on account of the time taken
to make the crossing. Calle Calle is a rapid ascent
57

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
straight up to the highest point of the divide,
followed by an equally rapid descent on the other
side, but Piscahuanuma straddles a double ridge
whose two extremities are known as Ventilla and
Puca Ladrillo, the ascent to the former taking
two hours, and the descent from the latter to
Bagazan another two hours. To these four hours
of arduous toil must be added three more of
undiluted misery over the bleak puna lying between
the two ridges, exposed to the full force of the
blinding snow-storms which frequently envelop the
high altitudes.
The name Piscahuanuma, although applied
chiefly to the pass as a whole, is really the name
given to but a single point about half-way between
the two ridges, and means in the Quechua
language " where even the birds die." The trail,
strewn with bones, shows that it fully deserves
its evil reputation ; it is the last resting-place of
many, not only mules and beasts of burden, but
also human beings coming from Moyobamba and the
low river country where cold weather is unknown.
At the foot of the climb leading up to Ventilla
my party rested in a shelter for the night. The
temperature was on a par with Pomococha, cold
and frosty. Our numbers were increased by the
arrival of two boys carrying packs and on their
way to Moyobamba ; they attached themselves
to us, evidently glad to have company on the way.
It was not to be wondered at, as travelling alone
through these desolate wilds, appalling in their
solitude, is depressing to a degree. One of the
new arrivals, Ramon by name, a wellfset-up man
of about twenty-eight years of age, proved very
58

" WHERE EVEN THE BIRDS DIE "
useful, and subsequently I engaged him to continue
with me as far as Yurimaguas. He made himself
very useful while crossing the Jalca, showing a
desire to help me which was quite unusual in
the ordinary native.
It was a weary climb to the summit of Ventilla,
our path being nothing more nor less than a rough
staircase cut in the sandstone. On the puna we even
had clear weather for a short time, but the lake
of Cochaconga, which lay placidly to the southward,
soon became blurred over with a snow flurry,
and from bright sunshine we were quickly plunged
into the gloom of an arctic night. By the time
we had fought our way to the crest of the last
ridge the worst of the storm had passed over, and
we started the descent to Bagazan under better
auspices. Steps cut in the mountain side are
of course, common throughout the Sierra, but
here there were drops of three or four feet, down
which men and beasts had to leap ; to further
add to the difficulty, there was a great amount
of yellow mud, and the country rock, which up
to the present time had usually consisted of sand
stone or coarse granite, changed to a talcose slate
of such a greasy texture that the animals could
barely keep on their feet. At the foot of the worst
section we literally slid into the valley of the
Uquihua, a sea of black mud, through the centre
of which a river of the same name flowed noisily
but quite invisible to the eye, since it followed
a subterranean passage beneath a lot of clean
boulders. It was typical of the contrariness of this moisture-
soaked country that the driest spot to be found
59

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
was the centre of the so-called river bed, a pile
of clean, water- worn rocks, most convenient for
those who were walking, but useless to the luckless
mules, which had to flounder through the mud on
either side as best they could.
Our destination, Bagazan, like most places with
big names, proved to be a ruined hut on the verge
of the timber line, with but half a roof and only
two serviceable walls left standing. It needed
an hour's hard work to complete the necessary
repairs, but it was worth the labour we expended,
as, long before night had come on, the rain and
sleet had again descended upon us, and continued
to drench the landscape well into the early hours
of the morning.
It would be difficult to describe the progress
we made during the next few days as a result.
The thin, invisible thread called a trail taxed the
powers of endurance of every member of the party.
During my many journeys in Peru I have seen
some bad trails, but I cannot recall any quite the
equal of that lying between Ventilla and Rio Seco.
It represented all the evils known to trail users:
rocky ledges, overhanging trees, abrupt drops,
sharp inclines, and fallen tree-trunks ; sometimes,
also there were narrow defiles twenty or thirty
feet deep, worn out of the sandstone by action
of water, and so narrow that a mule with an over
hanging cargo could barely get through ; then
again there were mud-holes so bad that we had
to stop, cut down a tree or two, and make an
improvised corduroy road so as to get the animals
across in safety. I found it easier and more
pleasant to go on foot, and I do not suppose that
eo

GETTING WARMER

in the whole trip from Chachapoyas to Moyobamba
I covered more than twenty-five per cent of the
distance mounted.
There was one thing alone to compensate for
the hardships : it was getting warmer — each day
brought a marked difference in temperature, and
the interest of our surroundings increased by
leaps and bounds. The trees were no longer
ugly and stunted as at the higher altitude, but
exquisitely beautiful, their long slender trunks
rising out of a dense undergrowth of ferns ; myriads
of small and gorgeously coloured butterflies rose
in clouds at our feet, and occasionally the iridescent
blue sheen of some large morpho would flash over
head like lightning in the sky of a summer's evening.
The great silence of the mountain tops was
dissipated, not suddenly, but little by little new
sounds came to my ears, insects, birds, and animals
all doing their share.
Even the River Uquihua took on some semblance
of life ; keeping due east, with an occasional
inclination to the north, we crossed it repeatedly,
stepping from one rock to another so as to secure
a dry passage. Only in one place was there any
pretence of a bridge, and, curiously enough, at
this point the river preferred some subterranean
passage, and but for the clean state of the boulders
lying round there was nothing to indicate its
presence. Almirante, Uchco, Puca Tambo, were soon
left behind, then we bid temporary farewell to
our uncertain friend the river, and headed due
north up a slope to Ventana, where a rare treat
awaited me in the form of a magnificent view
61

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
across the Mayo valley. This was a real valley,
and not a narrow slit like that of the Maranon.
Barely visible in the distance was the very last ridge
which lay between me and the great Amazon forests,
that magic spot which was luring me on to probe
the mysteries which lay hidden in its leafy depths.
About 2,000 feet below from where I stood a
few clearings were visible, known as Rio Seco,
which, as its name implied, boasted of a dry river,
but it was quite in keeping with the peculiarities
of the country to find it foaming with water when
I reached its banks.
Carmen had a friend who lived in one of the
huts nearby ; he was a half-caste settler, whose
chief occupation in life was growing sugar-cane
and collecting bombanaje, the young palm leaves
from which panama hats are made. He appeared
to be very friendly, so I made the usual formal
inquiries as to the health of the senora, the children,
and the conditions of the neighbourhood in general.
" It is very quiet here, senor," he replied. " We
seldom see anyone, and life is muy triste " —
that is to say, very sad. I suggested that we liven
things up a little, and prepare a sumptuous banquet
of polio con arroz in celebration of the occasion,
I providing the rice if he would provide the
chicken. Rice was a luxury these people seldom
tasted, so my offer met with prompt approval
and a general scramble ensued to catch one of the
many scrawny fowls which ran loose about the
habitation. The evening went off in great style ;
there was plenty to eat for every one, and a menu
that even the Ritz could not equal, consisting of
Yuca soup, eggs, chicken and rice, baked bananas,
62

THE MAGNIFICENT FOREST
guava jelly, cheese, coffee, and liqueur in the
shape of native rum made locally.
It was the first night spent in a really warm
atmosphere since the day we left Balsas, and instead
of all huddling up by a fire, we distributed
ourselves out in the open, chatted on topics of
interest till, with a wholesome tired feeling, the
result of many days' hard work, we stretched
ourselves out to enjoy a luxurious sleep. All hands
were in fine fettle next day as a result, and we set
out on our march to Moyobamba with renewed
vigour, greatly refreshed in mind and body.
Two or three miles beyond we crossed the Rio
Negro, between which and the Rio Seco there is
some of the most magnificent forest scenery found
anywhere. The scanty underbrush enabled me
to enjoy an undisturbed view of the trees, which
were of tremendous size, some distorted into
fantastic shapes, others as straight as a die, and of
great girth. A solemn and peaceful stillness
brooded over the forest, occasionally broken by
the chatter of a wandering family of monkeys,
or else the hoarse screech of some strange bird
hidden in the branches overhead. The usual
feeling of gloom which prevails round the roots
of the forest world was completely dissipated by
bright shafts of sunlight which found their way
through occasional openings in the tree tops.
Periodic open glades, bathed in sunshine, further
relieved any tendency towards monotony.
A mile or so after crossing the Rio Negro we
emerged on a dry sandy stretch, covered with
tall bracken and an occasional isolated clump of
palm trees ; this was an unexpected change, but
63

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
fascinating for all that ; everything was dry and
brittle, with no signs of water till we encountered a
small patch of forest, in the centre of which was Tambo
Yaco (water shelter), one of those entrancing spots
of which we often read, but seldom see.
Imagine an abundance of tropical vegetation
ablaze with coloured flowers surrounding an open
glen, in the centre of which stood a little bamboo
shelter ; to one side a brook flowed carelessly,
and over its sparkling waters millions of butterflies
flitted, others on the banks were enjoying a sun-bath
with wings wide open, exposing vivid and
startling colours, others much larger floated
leisurely about in the heat, occasionally coming
to rest on some leaf, at the same time opening
and closing their wings slowly, as if to call attention
to their brilliant sheen, the most intense iridescent
blue imaginable.
I dismounted and spent some time drinking
in the wonders about me, as I fully realised that
it was one of those sights which would remain
with me always, and the future enjoyment I would
derive from thinking about it would be in propor
tion to the strength of the details squeezed into
my mind's eye during the brief time the picture
was before me. Maybe I saw it under ideal
conditions, but the fact remains — I have never
seen a spot to equal it since.
The last member of our party passed by, and I
reluctantly rode on, my mind dwelling on the
beauties of the enchanting spot we had just left.
In a short time the dry, bracken-covered plain
was again the dominating note of the landscape,
but more green trees in the distance proclaimed
64

A YOUNG CITIZEN OF LEIMEBAMBA.

TYPICAL CHOLO FROM CHACHAPOYAS.

RIOJA
the presence of still another brook or river. It
turned out to be the River Uquihua, our old friend,
no longer the irresponsible child such as we knew
at Bagazan and Almirante, flowing here, there,
and everywhere, but a mature, grown-up river,
moving in stately fashion between well-defined
banks fringed with foliage.
A short distance beyond habitations became
plentiful, and then the village of Rioja came into
view — a small, straggling little place, on a sandy
knoll bedecked with banana trees. Much as I
would have liked to, we did not stop very long
to breathe the air of peace and contentment which
reigned over this small town, well known even
in the heart of Brazil for the superfine panama
hats which it produces. Every one was anxious
to reach the end of the journey, and the better
progress we made now, the less work there would
be for to-morrow. We had had two days of
gloriously fine weather, which had dried up the
trail, and although muddy sections were frequent,
they were not as bad as they might have been.
Within half an hour we were at the banks of
the Rio Tonchima, which at all seasons of the
year is too deep to be forded ; the packs had to
be ferried across in a canoe, while the animals, only
too pleased to have a cold bath, swam. My men
were particularly glad when we pitched camp
two hours later at a spot called Galdin. For some
reason or another which I could not fathom
Sunday, July 7th, was an unlucky day to travel
on, and, according to them, it was a miracle some
evil had not befallen us on the way.
Our last day's ride proved uneventful ; for
E 65

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
once every one was awake at five, and I did not
have to rouse them from the lethargy usually
displayed in the early hours of the morning. The
country remained flat and open, with tall jungle
growth instead of trees ; towards the village of
Calzada the vegetation became less and less, the
thin sandy soil being unable to support anything
more than an occasional shrub here and there,
along with a certain amount of grass, upon which
numerous cattle grazed. The most noticeable
feature of the landscape was a large dome-like
mountain known as El Morro, which rose out
of the flat valley alongside the River Indoche ;
it could be seen for miles away, and is a landmark
of considerable prominence. The Indoche is a
narrow but deep stream which had to be crossed
in canoes, a process that occupied one hour.
I was surprised that the town of Moyobamba
was still invisible, as Carmen had given me to
understand that it was barely three miles distant.
Curiously enough, it remained completely obscured
from view until we were within a hundred yards
of its outskirts. An hour after leaving the Indoche
we struck a sandy stretch, over which a small
stream wriggled. We followed it for some distance,
and then turning up a narrow ravine found ourselves
suddenly at the very edge of the town.
Thanks to my friends in Chachapoyas, I had
a letter of introduction to the sub-prefect, Don
Esteban Hidalgo, so my party was hospitably
received at his house. After the long and tiresome
journey we had experienced, it was a pleasure to
retire to rest without any thoughts as to the possible
evils we would encounter the next day in our travels.
66

CHAPTER IV
Moyobamba is frequently spoken of as the garden
spot of the Peruvian Orient, or Montana, the local
name given to that vast expanse of country lying
to the eastward of the Andes, which is clothed
in a mantle of tropical vegetation, sparsely
populated, and in many places not even explored.
The term is indiscriminately applied to any section
of this country, irrespective of whether it is high
up on the eastern slope of the great Andean chain,
where the forests begin, or away down in the low-
lying Amazon basin, where the same forests continue
to stretch in an unbroken sea of green several
thousands of miles to the Atlantic seaboard.
Heavy rainfall and high temperatures are usually
associated with the name, but there are many
districts within its borders which enjoy a very
decided dry season, and others, such as Bagazan,
where forests are of frequent occurrence ; in fact,
local variations in climate are just as pronounced
in the Montana as in the Sierra, the variations
in either case being the direct result of differences
in elevation above sea level.
The superficial area of the Montana is con
siderably greater than that of the Sierra, but it
would be difficult to say which of these two immense
zones, differing so widely from each other in every
67

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
characteristic, could be considered the greatest
asset to the country as a whole. The warmth
and great fertility of the Montana undoubtedly
appeals very forcibly to the average individual ;
at the same time the rich veins of precious metals
in the grim mountain tops make an equally strong
appeal to others. Both hold out great induce
ments which tempt the avariciousness of man,
but they are of a relative kind only, as the difficulties
encountered in robbing Nature of her bounty
are usually out of all proportion to the benefits
gained. In either case it will need years of patience and
skill on the part of the Government before any
comprehensive scheme of development on a large
scale would pay, especially in the region of woods,
which is so much more inaccessible from the
present centres of civilisation on the coast. The
Montana has one great advantage over the Sierra, in
that its agricultural wealth can, at any rate, provide
food for a population of many millions, whereas
the higher altitude must for ever remain unpro
ductive in comparison.
Peruvians are extremely proud of their country's
natural resources, and very rightly, too, but their
unbridled enthusiasm frequently results in reports
of a grossly exaggerated nature being spread
abroad, which in the end react most unfavourably
in their own interest. The many and fantastic
stories current concerning the fabulous wealth
of the Montana even eclipses the wild statement
made about the great mineral deposits of the
Sierra. According to the natives, this more remote
section of Peru is an El Dorado teeming with riches
es

THINKING OF THE FUTURE
of every kind and description, which only need
to be gathered and carted away wholesale. If
this is so, one naturally asks why all those who
now live in poverty on the coast do not emigrate
eastward without delay, but no satisfactory answer
is ever forthcoming to this query.
I often think of the reply given by a prominent
Peruvian when asked why it was his fellow-
countrymen did not develop the coal deposits
of the Andes ; it was to the effect that if they did
there would be nothing left for their grandchildren
to do. The same line of reasoning may possibly
be applied to the conquest of the Peruvian Orient,
and in the interest of the great-great-grandchildren
that are to come this very important work may
be postponed for several centuries.
The fact remains that to-day very little is done
to consider the wants of this particular section of
the country, and some parts of it, which, in the
days of the Spaniards, had been put in touch with
the outside world, have since reverted to savagery
of a very vicious nature. If the time spent in
talking about the Montana were put to more
practical use by the authorities, there is little doubt
but that tangible results would quickly follow.
Conversation with many of the more energetic
settlers met during my travels threw some inter
esting sidelights on the future of the Montana,
and indicated which way the wind was blowing.
I would not be surprised if, by the time the
Government begin to take even a casual interest,
there might be no Montana to take an interest in,
as the chances of this section of Peru breaking
away from the mother country and transferring
69

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
its allegiance to Brazil, to which geographically
it belongs, or else setting up an independent
Republic on its own account, are not at all
improbable. In Moyobamba, Yurimaguas, and other places
my presence aroused considerable suspicion in
the minds of the local officials, as no sound reason
for my visiting such remote parts could be formu
lated, except on the supposition that I came as
a secret agent from the authorities in Lima to spy
out the land. I noticed that when the real objects
of my journey were made known, there was a
decided change of attitude on the part of many.
Their friendliness was sincere, of that I am sure,
and very much appreciated on my part, as to have
a complete stranger thrust amongst them could
not have been much of a pleasure, especially as
my knowlege of their language was so very limited.
My welcome to Moyobamba left nothing to
be desired ; the worthy sub-prefect, with whom
I spent many agreeable days, was extremely affable,
although not overflowing with wit or bursting
with brains. He planned a number of excursions
for my edification, and materially assisted in the
multitudinous preliminary details incidental to the
arduous journey which still lay ahead of me. He
lived in what looked like a very pretentious house
when viewed from the street, but the rear premises
had a somewhat vacant and disappointed look,
just as if the builder had lost all ambition in his
work before it was fully completed.
Meals were served in the rear on an open porch,
shaded from the glare of the sun by many large
banana trees that flourished in the back vard. The
70 J

INQUISITIVE VISITORS

food was simplicity itself, mostly vegetables ; meat
was scarce, and bread, of course, was a thing I
had not seen for weeks. In the mountains roasted
corn or cancha is the usual substitute, but here
boiled plantains took its place. My sleeping
quarters were as simple as the food we fed on ;
a small, cool room, without windows, and but a
single door leading out on to the street; after
the balmy air of the forests it was like being cooped
up in a dungeon, but it had this great advantage,
that I could work away in my cell at leisure and
not be interrupted, except for the silent gaze of
passers-by, who viewed me and my belongings
with unfeigned astonishment.
During the day the top half of my door had to
be left open, so as to allow a little light and fresh
air to filter in through the narrow opening. The
natives walking along the street were tempted
by curiosity, and, having nothing of a very pressing
nature on hand, enjoyed looking in at the gringo
and the curious machines he had with him. Some
less bashful tried to enter into conversation, asking
where I had come from and whither bound, also
what I had to sell. My replies were not calculated
to be encouraging ; at the same time I did not like
to express my sentiments too plainly. It was
hard to reconcile myself to the fact that customs
differed all the world over, and what English
people might consider the height of rudeness
was in this part of the globe simply an expression
of friendly feeling and interest at which I should
have been flattered.
At the first opportunity I made a tour of the
town to see the sights of interest, of which I felt
71

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
sure there were many. Starting with the plaza,
the ugliest and most unkempt one I had ever seen,
I strolled up and down the many sandy streets,
all quite clean in spite of the fact that they were
used as the receptacle for refuse thrown from the
houses ; the scavenging was done very, thoroughly
by pigs, of which there were dozens running
loose everywhere. The houses were decidedly
picturesque, with their quaint balconies, some
spotlessly white and tidy, surrounded with banana
trees and other vegetation, which set them off to
good advantage.
Fortunately there was enough rain at all seasons
to support a certain amount of vegetable growth,
as the town was built on a sandstone knoll void
of any other water supply. Every drop for domestic
purposes had to be brought in either by donkeys
or else by the women, who usually carried large
earthenware pots on their heads. The result of
this practice showed itself in their carriage, which
was habitually erect and graceful, very different
from what I had seen in other parts. These dusky
maidens were not lacking in good looks either,
and I was told that they enjoyed a wide reputation
in this respect ; certainly, some of those I saw
had nothing to be ashamed of.
During my first day's wanderings in the town
I was accosted by a tall man, who introduced
himself as Carlos Cruz. He spoke excellent
English, and begged me to come into his house
for a chat. I gratefully accepted the invitation,
and was ushered into a neat dwelling, at the back
of which was a well-arranged garden. Seated
under the shade of some large trees, we talked
72

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DON CARLOS CRUZ

at length on many subjects of mutual interest.
Conversation disclosed the fact that he was a
Portuguese of good family, had travelled exten
sively, knew all Europe well, and had spent the
last thirty-nine years of his life in Moyobamba.
Amongst sundry documents in his possession he
produced a letter signed by Lieut. Lister, R.N.R..
and dated 1879, enquiring if I knew the writer.
It was rather like asking me if I was on speaking
terms with Noah, but I felt flattered to think I
looked so aged, and said I had not the pleasure.
It was not the only occasion upon which Don
Carlos and myself met ; we soon became good
friends, and I found him a delightful companion,
a veritable encyclopaedia of information. There
was hardly a subject upon which I wanted informa
tion but on what he could not enlighten me. My
curiosity prompted me to ask why, of all the many
places in the world, he had hit upon this particular
spot so far off the beaten track. He told me that
he had been satiated with the artificial existence
found in the capitals of Europe, and had gone
to the Amazon to seek the simple life. He had
strayed further and further afield in his hunt for
an ideal spot to settle down in, till at last, in the
foothills of the Andes, he had stumbled across
Moyobamba, which in those days was an earthly
paradise, with all the earmarks of a prosperous
future ahead of it. Coffee and panama hats had
made it famous in the past, coffee and panama
hats would sustain its greatness in the future.
He had settled down, opened a trading establish
ment, and for many years business flourished.
Then came the rubber boom, when excitement
73

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
ran high, and the prospects of amassing fortunes
easily caused hundreds of men to leave their homes
and the coffee estates which they had planted
with so much care, to go and hunt for the black
gold in the unhealthy swamps of the Amazon.
Year after year went by, but the husbands and
brothers never came back ; others followed in
their footsteps, but the forest swallowed them up
also. As a last resource, their womenfolk migrated
to the river country in search of their loved ones,
with no better success ; fever and sickness ran
riot amongst them, and the few survivors, broken
in spirit and unable to face the hardships of the
return journey, remained where they were, to
start life afresh as best they could.
The population of Moyobamba was reduced
from 12,000 to roughly 5,000 people within a
comparatively short time ; the coffee market was
lost, other places started the manufacture of panama
hats, and then the final blow fell when the collection
of rubber ceased to pay. Forty per cent of the
houses in the town to-day are abandoned, and
the coffee which matures on most of the estates
is allowed to rot on the trees. Had it not been
for the ease with which foodstuffs are grown
the rest of the population would have passed into
oblivion also.
Carlos Cruz had backed the wrong horse ; the
misfortunes of the community reacted on his
own business, which had started so successfully ;
financially, he went down-hill, and found himself
unable to get away or bring capital to his assistance.
A ray of hope appeared on his horizon when the
Government offered a substantial bounty to anyone
74

A REAL OPTIMIST

who was successful in producing silk. With his
remaining spare cash he imported eggs and mulberry
trees from different parts of the world, and after
several years of careful work shipped a large
consignment of silk to Lima. Not only did he
never get the bounty offered, but he even failed
to get a single reply to the many letters he wrote
to the authorities on the subject.
Since he was too old to pull up stakes and start
afresh, I wondered that he was not rather
embittered as a result of his experiences, but not
at all ; his cheery disposition was quite infectious,
and although what he thought of Government
officials would not bear putting in print, he was
quite happy to make the best of life as it stood.
" After all," he said, " conditions in Europe, as
a result of the war, are probably worse than they
are here, where at any rate there is no food
shortage." In this last remark he was certainly right. The
valley of the Rio Mayo, of which Moyobamba is the
chief settlement, is the most fertile and produc
tive of any district in the Montana which it has
been my good fortune to visit. The ground is
not flat and boggy, like much of the Amazon
country, but just sufficiently inclined to give good
drainage. There is a distinct dry season, and
enormous areas of land are available for cultivation.
The elevation, being about 3,000 feet, ensures a
warm but healthy climate, in which a great variety
of produce can be grown.
Let me enumerate some of the things which
Don Carlos had under cultivation in his own
garden — carrots, cauliflowers, cabbages, string
75

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
beans, bananas, grapes, pineapples, oranges,
tangerines, mulberries, tobacco, cucumbers, lettuce,
coffee, tomatoes, sugar-cane — incidentally, he made
his own wine and chocolate, excellent bread from
banana flour, and a great assortment of jams.
Pigs and chickens seemed to run wild and get
fat with the minimum amount of care, and cattle
flourished in certain parts of the valley, near
Calzada, for example, where there were several
large herds. To enumerate all the natural products
which thrived in the forests would fill a volume,
but they varied from nuts suitable for the manu
facture of household soap to vanilla beans of the
most exquisite flavour. Valuable orchids and rare
butterflies should also be mentioned, as with a
little enterprise considerable business could be
done with these.
My stay in Moyobamba was of longer duration
than I expected, on account of the difficulty of
getting cargo bearers to go on with me towards
Yurimaguas. There were two routes available :
one to the southward via Llamas and Tarapota,
the other to the eastward to Cachipuerto ; the
former was the easiest, but considerably longer,
so I chose the latter. It was with some relief
that I heard mules could not proceed further
on account of the tangle of forest growth which
barred the way to the river country. My journey
from Chachapoyas had taught me that there was
no pleasure in forcing animals over ground that
could be traversed to much better advantage on
foot, so when it came to selling my equipment
I was not as reluctant about it as I might have
been. The mule brought £16, and the balance
76

HUNTING UP PORTERS

of the gear £3, not very high prices, but in the
long run it was much cheaper than renting inferior
animals, to say nothing of being much more
agreeable. Don Esteban made numerous efforts to get
me good porters from some of the outlying settle
ments, but financial reward for their services
was not much of an inducement to offer in this
Garden of Eden, where they could get plenty to
eat without having to make arduous journeys
through the forests carrying heavy packs, which
to them was not even amusing. The days slipped
by without any definite settlement being arrived
at, but they were not lost, as, armed with my camera,
I found plenty of material of interest to record.
Amongst others whom I had the pleasure of
meeting was Sr. Agustin Vasquez, a photographic
enthusiast like myself, and with his able assistance
I filmed the whole process of making panama
hats, from the cutting of the young palm shoots
in the forest to the finished product adorning
the head of a local beauty. The primitive method
of making chancaca, or brown sugar, made another
interesting series ; so when I got through I was well
satisfied that my time had been spent to good
advantage. Don Agustin was the proud possessor of an
old Pathe motion picture projector, and a dozen or
so still more antique films. When business was
a little slack and he needed a few shekels to keep
the financial pot a-boiling, he would give a " movie "
show in the market place. The price of admission
varied : 20 cents for the benches, 10 cents if you
brought your own seat, and z\ cents for those
77

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
accommodated back of the screen, who either
could not read, or did not mind such a trivial
detail of having to read all the titles reversed as
in a mirror. It was seven or eight years ago that
he had brought his " movie " over from Europe,
where he had gone to spend some of his surplus
wealth accumulated during more prosperous times.
Naturally the natives had seen his films on many
occasions, but he was still able to draw an occasional
crowd that more than covered his expenses.
During my visit his supply of ready cash ran so
low that it necessitated giving one of these perform
ances in order to restore financial equilibrium.
It was to be a gala night, and a huge placard was
paraded round the town bearing the announcement
that at the hour of 9 p.m., in the Market Place,
a great performance of motion pictures would
be celebrated. To add to the importance of the
announcement the municipal band of four instru
ments was engaged to walk in front and make as
much noise as possible.
When nine o'clock came round a fair audience
had assembled to see the show, but there was still
a great deal of room for those who wanted to stand
or cared to bring their own chairs. At the main
entrance the one solitary policeman of the town
was on duty, holding in check hundreds of children
who had collected with a hope of being able to
slip in unobserved without paying. I recalled
their bright, eager faces, and then thought of the
vacant spaces that still remained within, so returning
to the door I addressed the lonely official with the
air of one in authority, saying. " Let every one
inside." 78

MISTAKEN FOR A MILLIONAIRE
He looked at me, dumfounded in amazement ;
surely I must be out of my mind. " But there
are over three hundred children, senor," he said,
looking at the ticket collector, who began figuring
out how much that would amount to at %\ cents
a head. " No matter," I replied, " here are ten
soles for the lot." Nothing more was to be said ;
for once in my life I was mistaken for a millionaire ;
the street was emptied, the ticket man and the
policeman closed the doors on a full house, and
the show began.
Don Agustin was all smiles at the reception
his pictures received. " The way the audience
cheered was just like old times," he said. It was
like very old times for me, as never had I imagined
that such ancient productions existed ; they must
have been very old even when they were bought ;
to the cholo kiddies that was a matter of no conse
quence ; they thought them wonderful, especially
one of some elephants taken in India. Their
prolonged shrieks of delight caused me more
amusement than any "movie" show I have ever
been to before or since.
I made a rough calculation that if much more
of my time was spent in riotous living such as
this it would be impossible to get back to the
coast before the rainy season started, and it there
fore behoved me to hasten my departure as much
as practicable, especially if I seriously considered
doing all I had set out to accomplish.
My greatest set-back so far, and one that caused
me much disappointment, was the complete failure
which attended every effort to develop my
photographs locally. Sand in the water was

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
invariably a difficult factor to cope with, but
in the Montana the damp, moist air came as
a new menace, and prevented the film from drying.
Even after an alcohol bath small flies would adhere
to its surface by the thousand before it had a
chance to set properly. On one occasion a clean
strip of celluloid was all that remained in the
morning, as a result of an army of hungry ants
having banqueted off the emulsion during the
night. Many of the photos which had been taken
could not possibly be duplicated, so that their
complete loss was most disheartening, and I began
to think that a pictorial record of my wanderings
would never materialise.
It is, of course, well known that the taking of
successful photographs in a tropical climate is by
no means easy, but I kept a carefully written
record of everything pertaining to the subject, no
matter how trivial, and have since devised methods
which ensure good pictures with a fair degree of
certainty. My last two days in Moyobamba were chiefly
concerned with rearranging my cargo, preparatory
to the journey through the forests to Balsapuerto.
All baggage was cut down to a minimum, but the
motion picture camera, tripod, and some 10,000
feet of " movie " film still resulted in my having
more than double the amount that ordinarily
would have been necessary.
On many occasions, both past and future, I
had been sorely tempted to throw this cumbersome
equipment away, so as to proceed more rapidly
and with a greater degree of freedom, but somehow
or another we never parted company till on the
80

SETTING OUT ON FOOT THROUGH THE FOREST.

DON ESTEBAN HANDLES THE CASH
return journey the hungry waters of a whirlpool
near the mouth of the Nieva river swallowed up
the bulk of it.
The difficulty of getting porters, and their
disinclination to carry heavy loads, was very
apparent. It brought home to me the crying
need of some modern form of transport which
would be necessary before the valley of the Mayo
and all its agricultural wealth would be a national
asset. The cost of shipping material to Pacasmayo,
on the coast, is about £45 per ton on mule back,
yet there are not enough men and animals in the
entire countryside to move more than four tons
a month at the very outside. The price I paid
for five men and a small boy to carry my cargo
of roughly 220 lb. was £6, and, according to the
sub-prefect, custom said that payment was to be
made in advance ; wisdom said let Don Esteban
handle the cash, so the money was turned over
to him to make the necessary disbursements, which
I must say he did to my great satisfaction.
In addition to the porters, Ramon, the individual
who had attached himself to my party on the way
from Chachapoyas, was engaged to come with me
to assist in the photographic work ; when we
finally set out the party consisted of eight in all,
carrying loads varying from 40 to 80 lb.
During the past week I had heard many sinister
rumours concerning expeditions which had com
pletely disappeared in these very woods I was
now about to traverse ; both the " Mirko Selgan "
and " Cromer Page " had set out with a view to
exploring and mapping certain unknown sections,
but the jungle had swallowed them up, and only
F 81

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
second-hand rumours concerning the evils which
befell them were current. I felt that as the journey
ahead of me was not of many days' duration, and
that my men were good-natured fellows, unlikely
to give trouble, providing their material wants
were well looked after, there was nothing to be
alarmed at. Therefore, I had no feelings of mis
giving on leaving the town where I had spent
so many enjoyable days, and proceeded to crawl
through the damp and silent forests on my way
to the Amazon.

82

CHAPTER V
Under the most favourable conditions possible
it is a full four days' trek from Moyobamba to
Balsapuerto, but anyone who contemplates taking
the same route to Iquitos which I followed on
this occasion would do well not to hurry over
this particular section of the trail.
From Rio Seco to Yurimaguas there is more
interest and pleasure to be found in one's sur
roundings than all the rest of the entire trans
continental route from Pacasmayo to Para put
together. By day the sun is warm, but it has
not had time to cultivate the disagreeable habit
of radiating its heat in the oppressive manner
typical of the Amazon, and even if it had it takes time
to thaw out those chilly recollections of Piscahuanuma
and Calle Calle ; until this is accomplished no
temperature can be considered disagreeably high.
At night the cool air ensures a complete absence
of mosquitoes or any other noxious insects, so it
is possible to sleep in comfort after the day's toil
and start on the next with renewed enthusiasm.
Five days after leaving Don Esteban's hospitable
roof I walked into Balsapuerto feeling abnormally
vigorous, exhilarated beyond measure, and not
the least fatigued after my prolonged scramble
through the forest. 83

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
Had I known as much then as I do now, I should
have lingered by the roadside a day or two longer
to more fully assimilate the magic of the dawning
tropics. It probably seems incredible to those
whom circumstances keep in the crowded centres
of Europe that there could be any real pleasure
in travel of this kind ; to them such things are
probably more interesting to read about than to
experience, but the fact remains that to wander
through trackless forests and camp on the banks
of some unknown stream in the wilds has an
alluring fascination for many, of whom I must
admit being one.
When my little party had been ferried over
the placid waters of the Rio Mayo, and in single
file was threading its way towards the last ridge
of hills which had to be crossed before emerging
on the Amazon plains, I had no feelings of regret
to think that I was turning my back on the last
outpost of civilisation, and for a week or two
would have to sleep out under the stars.
My cargo bearers were not too elated at the
prospects — they were Indians who had just been
entangled in the snare of civilisation, and this
was too much like reverting to the old life ; for
all that they were glad to accompany me in return
for the large machetes or knives which Don Esteban
had given them, and I think they cherished a
secret joy at the thought of parading their prosperity
before the eyes of their former friends whom
we might meet on the road. It was a herculean
task to get them out of the town more or less sober,
but to my dismay I found each had a private
supply of aguardiente, and our rate of procedure
84

CAMP IN THE FOREST

was so slow in consequence I decided to camp
early at a small outlying chacra, so as to allow
them to drink the lot and be done with it.
The idea proved a good one, as we left Yano
Yacu (black water) the next morning in a less
hilarious mood. For some hours we journeyed
in silence through the forest, till at noon we reached
an open stretch of grassy country splendid for
cattle raising, where there was a small hut called
Jesus-del-Monte. There was no occasion to stop,
so we continued over the open ground, and then
once more dived into the forest — on this occasion
darker and more dense than any I had seen here
tofore. In places there was a suggestion of a
trail, but for the most part it was completely over
grown and invisible. Two hours slipping about
in the mud and decaying vegetation brought us
to the top of a ridge where a small shelter hove
in sight, which the men called Baca-si-Prana. It
was getting late, so we settled down for the night,
and within a short time the blue smoke from our
fire was floating in the evening air. Bananas and
yucas were prepared as usual, along with a little
rice and coffee, then a native cigarette as a final
touch, and our day's work was done.
The moon rose late, and with it a gentle breeze,
which set the whole forest trembling in its silvery
rays. I woke about one o'clock, and for an hour
or so watched the antics of two tiny monkeys
overhead who had been attracted by curiosity
to the spot. I was fascinated by the sight of them
and the strange sounds about me, but sleep carried
me off again, and the next thing I knew day was
breaking and it was time to be on the move.
85

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
We made the divide in two and a half hours,
but there was no view to speak of ; the ridge
continued to the north and south, but to the east
a high spur blocked out any vista that might other
wise have been obtained. Our ascent had been
gradual and by easy stages, but the descent to
the open glade of Mapatambo, 2,000 feet below,
was unusually abrupt. Here we encountered the
Rio Mashu Yacu, upon whose waters we would
eventually embark in canoe. We crossed over
to the north bank, passing through some fine
stretches of forest, our course more or less east,
but frequently swinging round due north or due
south for considerable distances at a time.
Crossing back to the south shore of the river we
followed up a small stream, Chucllu Yacu (corn
river), and then once more taking to the tall timbers
we struck uphill, coming to rest for the night
near a small hut where some enterprising half-
caste was trying to establish himself.
Now it happened that my boy was rather socially
inclined, and whenever we met strangers in this
way he was always very much to the front ; for
once he seemed disinclined to figure in the lime
light, and kept out of sight all evening. I wondered
what was the cause of this sudden fit of bashfulness,
but the puzzle was not solved until the moment
of our departure next morning, when the settler's
wife appeared in a frenzy of rage. Rushing up
to Ramon she called him a scoundrel, a robber,
and all the names she could think of in the expressive
Spanish language, and claiming twenty-five cents,
which she said he owed her for something bought
in Moyobamba years ago. 86

A WOULD-BE SUICIDE

To clear the atmosphere, I handed over the
amount in question, quite expecting the boy to
look relieved and thankful, but not at all. As
soon as the woman had departed, he burst into
a flood of tears, exclaiming — " Give me your
revolver, senor, give me your revolver ! " " What
for ? " I ejaculated. " To kill myself, senor ! "
he wailed. " She called me a thief and a robber !
I do not wish to live ; I must kill myself."
Needless to say, the tragedy did not take place,
and we set out, a settled' gloom hanging over the
would-be suicide, till two hours' hard walking
up to the crest of the ridge had effaced from his
mind the unpleasant memories of the scene just
enacted. Our line of advance had once more changed
from south to east, and we found ourselves travel
ling at right angles to a number of folds, which
lay parallel to the main ridge passed over yesterday.
In the bottom of each of these valleys, or quebradas,
as they are called, was a small stream, the most
important, as well as the most interesting, being
Puma Yacu, a series of large pools of limpid
green water chained together by a number of
waterfalls. Heretofore the crossing of this stream
had always been accomplished on foot, at the
very edge of one of the highest cascades, and a
very hazardous process it was, too — especially
when a large volume of water was coming over.
Although not deep, the current is swift, and the
rock smooth and slippery as glass ; the unfortunate
individual who once lost his foothold never regained
it again, and was swept over the edge and drowned
in the pool fifty feet below. I found a flimsy
87

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
bridge had been built recently, and thus the task
of crossing was rendered less perilous.
Beyond Puma Yacu we traversed more broken
country, with slates and shales outcropping at
periodic intervals. In these zones a marked
increase in the forest growth was noticeable, both
as regards size and density. One valley occurred
directly in the slate, and the slope of its eastern
side conformed to the angle at which the strata
had been tilted up by the titanic forces of Nature.
Upon it innumerable surface slides had taken
place, which I attributed to tracks through the
forest made by animals or Indians, which in time
became worn and acted as channels for the surface
water to collect in. This would gradually soak
through to bedrock, loosening the sub-strata adjacent
to the smooth surface of the slate, and then, with
a great rush and a roar that could be heard for
miles, everything would give way. Great monarchs
of the forest, underbrush, and surface soil would
all form one colossal avalanche that would go
tearing down into the valley, carrying everything
before it.
I had the good fortune to witness one of these
taking place, on my return to the coast, and the
spectacle was certainly unique. As our own trail
followed round the top of many of them, it rather
confirmed my theory as to their origin.
The switch-backing that we had been indulging
in ever since early morning began to get a little
monotonous. Ramon had assured me that we
would reach a point early in the day where there
was an uninterrupted view of the Amazon basin,
and then it would be a steady down-grade all
88

THE GREATEST SIGHT ON EARTH
the way to Cachipuerto. The top of each ridge
brought one disappointment after another, till
it began to look as if Ramon were a liar as well
as a " robber and a thief." Shortly after midday
we were resting in the bottom of a quebrada,
when my boy casually remarked that the next
ridge was actually the very last one, and then our
troubles would be over.
The thought of the view for which I had been
thirsting so long being near at hand caused me
to proceed on alone, leaving the men to follow
when the spirit moved them. Full of excitement
I scrambled up the slope, but, alas ! the top of
the ridge was rather flat, free of trees, yet covered
with tall grass and dense scrub which effectively
obscured everything from sight. My disappoint
ment was of short duration — barely three hundred
yards further on the tall grass suddenly ceased
at the edge of a precipitous descent, and one of
the most glorious spectacles it has ever been my
good fortune to behold burst upon my astonished
gaze. The last ripples of the Andes seemed to suddenly
die away several thousands of feet below me,
and dissolve themselves into one mighty billowing
ocean of tree tops, that extended without inter
ruption as far as the eye could see. The Cachi
Yacu river, which had been confined by the
mountains to the straight and narrow path in its
upper reaches, found itself free at last to meander
about as it pleased, and in sheer delight went
squirming off through the forest until completely
lost in the haze of remoteness. The horizon was
gigantic, and the thought that these forests persisted
89

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
without interruption right across Brazil to the
very shores of the Atlantic was almost too fantastic
to contemplate.
So engrossed was I with the immensity of the
scene before me, that I failed to take note of my
porters passing by ; believing that some had lagged
behind, I sent Ramon back to hurry up the
stragglers, but he returned to say that there were
no signs of anyone. Visions of my precious
cargo being jettisoned over a cliff or left in the
woods floated through my mind ; such things
had frequently been known to happen, and I
realised the impossibility of ever recovering my
possessions if such a catastrophe had occurred.
While these unpleasant thoughts were occupying
my attention, I caught sight of two boys on a ledge
1,000 feet below ; I shouted out to them at the
top of my lungs to wait, and hurried down,
discovering to my intense relief the entire party
safe and sound, wondering what all the rumpus
was about. Naturally I never mentioned the cause
of my anxiety, but it brought home to me the
necessity for keeping a more careful eye on my
cargo in the future.
The inclination is always to go rushing on
ahead, and many cannot endure the tedious strain
of travelling alongside the pack, no matter whether
it is carried by mules or Indians. On long
excursions better and more satisfactory progress
can be made by bringing up the rear and assisting
if an emergency arises. This was particularly
true in my case, as cameras and photographic
gear can be irreparably damaged through careless
handling. Frequently I have seen an Indian wade
90

CRAWLING DOWN A CLIFF
through deep water with his load half submerged ;
if he happened to be carrying clothing it was of
no particular moment, but with films it would
be disastrous. The average Indian can see no
reason for keeping one load dry and not another ;
all loads were the same to him, and a little trifle
such as water was of no consequence.
The descent from Icuto (the name of the spot
where I obtained such a magnificent view) was
very sharp, but the drop which now confronted
us was the worst declivity I had ever tackled
anywhere ; it was a red sandstone cliff, about
400 feet high, down which we had to clamber.
How the men, staggering under their big burdens,
were ever able to keep on their feet was a mystery
to me, especially one of them, who carried nearly
100 lb. The first portion of the descent was quite
enjoyable, fairly open, dry, and had many tracks
of jaguars, or some other large member of the
cat tribe, in the sandy soil. Conditions changed
rapidly, enormous drops of water splashed down
from the clouded sky overhead, and before long
a positive deluge set in. The ledge we were on
became a waterfall, and the rain poured off every
leaf and twig in a continual stream. It was quite
a problem to keep dry, but with my waterproof
sheet carefully wrapped round me I arrived at
the bottom without being soaked to the skin, and
quite pleased with myself as a result.
Within an hour the storm had blown over, and
we were at the banks of a river known as the
Escalera Yacu. Stepping from stone to stone,
we crossed at once to the opposite shore, only
to re-cross back again a few hundred yards further
91

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
on. Ten minutes later we cut a large bend, and
had to make a third crossing. This performance
was repeated until we had actually traversed this
miserable river nine times.
On each occasion the waters became wider
and deeper, and the question of my getting across
dry-shod became increasingly difficult. Short steps
developed into strides, strides into jumps, and
jumps into bounds, until I found myself leaping
from rock to rock with an agility that surprised
me. The leaps became longer and longer, till
at the fifth crossing, unable to fly, I floundered
into the seething mass of swirling waters in full
flood as the result of the heavy rain.
I might have saved all the energy expended
for a more useful purpose, as to try and keep
dry in this part of the world is like trying to stop
breathing ; it is part of one's existence that cannot
be dispensed with.
The sun came out as if to apologise for the
inconvenience the rain had caused us, but we
were only aware of its presence when actually
crossing the open spaces of the river ; in the
woods it was positively dark, the rank under
growth closed in upon us, and the larger trees
spread their branches overhead, intent upon
cutting off the last ray of light which might have
helped dispel the gloom of our surroundings.
On joining up with the Cachi Yacu river we
trudged along its south shore for a mile, sometimes
over boulder-strewn banks, sometimes in the forest.
There are some large deposits of salt in the
neighbourhood, hence the reason for calling the
river Salt Water. My boys collected a few chunks
92

SETTLEMENT OF BALSAPUERTO

CACHIPUERTO

to add to their already large loads, but we were
now near to our destination for the night, and a
few pounds more or less did not matter.
Cachipuerto, consisting of a lonely hut on the
opposite shore, was occupied by a man and his
wife, with a solitary child ; after much shouting
the man launched a canoe and came over to ferry
us across to where he lived. It was not an
unattractive spot — a large stretch of flat-bottom
land, planted with yucas and bananas, and sur
rounded by high hills.
Our last day's tramp to Balsapuerto was unevent
ful ; being only a matter of four and a half hours
there was no need to leave early, and I took advan
tage of the opportunity to get some motion pictures
of the men who had been my companions for the
past few days. The operation over, we set out
at 10 a.m. through the steaming forest, sultry
and oppressive, without a suggestion of wind
to freshen things up. It was appreciably hotter
than anything we had encountered heretofore,
and I shed every item of wearing apparel possible
in my efforts to keep cool.
After two hours we reached the Rio Mullinges,
a fine mountain torrent, sprinkled with huge
boulders of grey granite. Had it been possible
to cross without getting wet no one would have
availed themselves of the opportunity. We
forded it just above its confluence with the Cachi
Yacu, and so alluring were the cool, sparkling
waters that I spent a full twenty minutes swimming
about in it, while the men were catching a good
supply of fish a little further up-stream.
A couple of miles beyond there were a number
93

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
of Indian habitations hidden away in remote
corners of the forest. I should never have suspected
their existence but for the presence of tracks
leading to them, and an occasional glimpse of
some dark figure slipping off amongst the trees.
On arriving at our destination I went to the
house of the most important member of the
community, who styled himself the gobenador,
whom I hoped would be able to assist me in many
things, but it happened that the next day was to
be a feast day of some sort or another, and the
worthy official was busily engaged making himself
a pair of white trousers to celebrate the occasion,
so my hopes were in vain ; the pair of trousers
had to be completed before he could attend to
anything else. Ramon started enquiries on his
own account amongst the half-caste natives, and
found one who had a bamboo structure called
a house for rent at the colossal price of five cents
a day. I paid a week in advance, and moved in
without further ado.
When the cargo bearers deposited their burdens
safe and sound I called them together and said
how very satisfied I was with their behaviour
on the trip, and in consequence would give each
one an extra sol, by way of showing my appre
ciation. The announcement was received in stony
silence, and they accepted the prof erred reward
without a word. Thinking that I had not been
quite generous enough, I continued by saying
that as their loads had been heavy and our progress
excellent, I would give each man yet another
silver sol. Even this did not produce any visible
signs of pleasure, so, as I was anxious to have
94

CHARTERING A CANOE

them feel satisfied and contented, I tried another
channel, this time telling them that not only would
I reward them in silver, but they should also
receive a large supply of food for the return journey.
Again I failed to produce any signs of satisfaction,
so in desperation I handed them out a drink all
round from my private supply of rum, but I was
disappointed even in this last hope. I looked
from one to another, but each wore an expression
of stolid indifference that was quite unfathomable.
In despair I broke up the meeting, and retired
to the privacy of my newly acquired residence.
They were, indeed, a strange lot of men to
deal with ; I hardly expected thanks — that word
is practically unknown — but I did hope to see a
flicker of intelligence or some outward expression
of pleasure. Even a dog wags his tail when he
is pleased, but during the entire proceedings these
fellows had remained as expressionless as logs
of wood, and I have no doubt that if the truth
were known they probably thought me quite
mad for displaying such symptoms of generosity.
Not far from my abode lived a trader, Antonio
Vasquez, whose advice I sought as to the best
way of getting to Yurimaguas. There was a
trail, he said, over which it was possible to travel
on foot, but the river was preferable, since the
journey was down-stream, and if I wished he would
get some Indians with a canoe to transport Ramon
and myself to our destination. The price men
tioned was £5, but that naturally came down
to £2 1 os. before an agreement was arrived
at. Subsequently I found that the Indians
actually received the equivalent of four shillings
95

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
each in the way of merchandise from his store,
the balance going to Vasquez for the hard work
he had done.
There was no definite day set for our departure,
as it would depend on the Indians and their
inclination to travel ; in the meantime I would
have to indulge in a period of luxury and ease.
Ramon seemed pleased at the prospects, as it
gave him a chance of hobnobbing with his pals.
I was not sorry either, as the whole atmosphere
of Balsapuerto was so novel and interesting that
there was no chance of getting bored.
It was a welcome change not to get up early
in the morning and immediately set out on a long
walk through the unknown. From this it should
not be inferred that we lay in bed ; far from it ;
life started with us as usual half an hour before
sunrise, at the same time that other members of
the community were setting out for their day's
work in the outlying chacras, the name usually
given to the small patches of ground cultivated
by the natives. Between ten and two o'clock the
heat was so intense that those who had remained
in the settlement kept under cover as much as
possible. Towards five the toilers would return,
bringing with them yucas, bananas, and other
foodstuffs collected during the day ; then before
darkness fell cattle and pigs would be rounded
up in the plaza for the night, where they would
be safe from the attacks of jaguars. By eight
o'clock every one was asleep.
This was the usual routine that went on from
day to day, year in, year out ; occasionally a slight
diversion would be caused by the death of some one,
96

 A SEMI-DETACHED VILLA 
or the arrival of a stranger like myself, who threw
money about as if it were dirt ; but these were
trivial events, and only caused a small flutter of
excitement which was soon forgotten. It would
take nothing short of an earthquake to make a
lasting impression upon the inhabitants ; they
were mostly full-blooded Indians, shy and not
very far removed from their savage brethren who
still roamed in the forests, the only apparent
difference between them being that they wore
trousers or skirts, as the case might be, and spoke
a little Spanish. Between them and the gobenador
there were, no doubt, many grades in the social
scale, but to the uninitiated there was very little
to choose, and it was no easy task to say where
the savage ended and the civilised citizen began.
Antonio Vasquez was the only exception, and
he, of course, was in a class by himself.
The house I occupied was of a kind usually
found in the Montana. According to local
standards it was a first-class residence, because
the roof was strong and kept off the burning rays
of the sun, or else the torrential rains that would
frequently take place without a minute's warning.
The two small rooms afforded no privacy whatso
ever, as the walls were made of bamboo poles
lashed horizontally to the uprights, which supported
the roof ; the gaps between these were sometimes
inches across, and were used promiscuously by
anyone who wanted to look in. In the afternoon,
when the camera had been put away, I would
frequently be conscious of several pairs of eyes
peering through one of the large cracks to see
what the British lion was doing in his den. There
g 97

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
was a decided inclination on my part to throw
things at my inquisitive observers, but I refrained,
at the same time wondering if animals at the Zoo
had the same sensation when spectators surrounded
their cages. I was informed that these cracks were
considered an advantage rather than otherwise, as
they ensured a good circulation of air and plenty
of light within the dwelling.
When building a house in the river country it is
customary to pick the highest ground possible
because it ensures good drainage and is less liable
to be inundated during the flood season. Balsa
puerto, although tucked away at the very foot
of the Andes at an elevation of barely 750 feet
above sea level, had managed to find a sandy
bluff on which to rest some 60 feet above the Cachi
Yacu river, just where it describes its first convulsion
on the edge of the Amazon plains. At one time
it was a prosperous trading-post, but, like so many
others, has been depopulated ot recent years,
and allowed to run steadily down-hill. Little
traffic passes by its doors, there is no commerce
to amount to anything, there being few people
to buy, and still fewer who have anything to sell.
Were it not for its being the head of canoe naviga
tion it would long since have been abandoned.
The ground is fertile, produces abundantly, and
although the heat of the day is intense a cool
breeze invariably descends from the mountains
at night to cool things off. I did not realise how
hot it was until I made another attempt to develop
some photographs. The bath was 720 at the
start, but rose quickly to such a high tempera
ture that the emulsion simply dissolved away,
98

AUTHOR'S HOUSE AT BALSAPUERTO

DIFFICULTIES OF GETTING PHOTOS
and by the time I had finished there was no
picture left.
Taking photos of the natives was an equally
difficult procedure — they could not have been
more frightened had I mounted a machine-gun
outside their dwelling. The moment I appeared
armed with the camera the parents would herd
their progeny inside like so many pigs, bar the
door, and then look out through the cracks until
I had gone away.
I found that one of the first outward signs shown
by the average Indian of his willingness to
assimilate the white man's idea of civilisation
was his desire to be photographed ; this generally
proved a better gauge of his development than
the number of clothes he wore.

99

CHAPTER VI
Before many days had elapsed the prospects
of further adventures and experiences loomed
up on the horizon.
Vasqeuz had secured a canoe to take me down
stream to Yurimaguas, and I was to be ready to
leave the following morning at eight. The
announcement was received with unfeigned pleasure,
not because I was anxious to leave Balsapuerto,
but because time was a very important factor
with me, and I was anxious to do and see as much
as possible in the few months that still remained
at my disposal.
Provisions had to be laid in for about six days,
as it would take anywhere from three to five to
reach my destination, according to the condition
of the river and the energy displayed by the
Indians who were to accompany me. I still had
a good store of rice left over, which, with bananas,
yucas procured locally, and a few tins of preserved
meat which I always carried against an emergency,
made up an ample supply.
During the past few days some Cachi Yacu
Indians had come in from the forests to trade
with Vasquez ; I had refrained from mixing with
them, as I had no wish to appear unduly curious,
but the sight of the two husky young fellows who
100

SETTING OUT IN A CANOE
presented themselves on the morning of my depar
ture was so comic that it was all I could do to
prevent myself from laughing out loud. The
face of each was grotesquely painted in the latest
fashion with brilliant scarlet, a preparation made
from the seeds of the achiote plant. Vasquez,
who had been acting as my encyclopaedia, told
me that no Indian set out into strange territory
without painting himself, partly out of custom
and partly to show those whom he met where he
came from ; in other words, it was the primitive
conception of the modern passport.
My four boxes, along with a waterproof bag
and tripod, were soon stowed away amidships
in a fragile dug-out canoe that was tied up alongside
the bank of the river in readiness for the journey.
Like the Indians it also was painted, but for
reasons not entirely artistic ; in a small way,
camouflage or its equivalent is both appreciated
and practised by some tribes, and I can vouch
from my own experience that a canoe such as
this, painted with red, black, and yellow stripes,
was much more difficult to detect than a perfectly
plain one.
By ten o'clock everything was ready. Ramon
and myself made ourselves comfortable in the
centre of the canoe, and we cast off from the shore,
heading down-stream for Yurimaguas. One of
the Indians stood in the bow, his face resplendent
with scarlet paint, a long pole in his hands, and
his eyes riveted on the waters ahead. Occasionally
he waved his arm in this direction or that, indicating
to his companion, who sat silently in the stern,
which course to take, or else he made a sudden
101

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
thrust with his pole to direct our craft away from
some unseen obstruction in the river.
It was, indeed, a new and fascinating phase of
travel to glide noiselessly and easily down the
swift-running waters of a river, instead of riding
a jaded mule over mountain trails, or else
scrambling through the forest on one's own feet.
Great satisfaction was also to be derived from
the thought that no effort was being expended
to hasten our progress; the canoe supported the
cargo and the current of the stream propelled us
forward at a lively rate. Overhead the sun poured
down its molten rays upon us, and on either side
trees, trees, trees, nothing but trees, of all shapes
and sizes, lined the banks without interruption.
Our progress was so rapid that Balsapuerto
was left behind in no time, and the last ridge of
the Andes, which we had crossed not many days
back, gradually receded from view, till it also was
lost in the haze. All signs of habitations ceased,
and but for a lonely Indian poling his canoe up
stream or some solitary brave standing motionless
on the bank like a bronze statue, we might have
been the only people in the world.
In the deep water we paddled along leisurely,
but where it was shallow poles were brought into
play with great effect. On the whole, the river
was low, and required keen judgment on the part
of the bogas to prevent our getting stuck on a
sand-bar or else capsized against a submerged
log. In one or two stretches where it was parti
cularly shallow we had even to get out and wade,
pushing the canoe or else hauling it by means
of a fibre rope secured to the bow. My boy
102

AN INDIAN LOVE SCENE

from Moyobamba appreciated the change in our
mode of travel as much, if not more, than I did ;
he was no longer a porter, but a gentleman of
leisure, who lolled back in comfort, smoked
cigarettes, and gave occasional orders to the Indians
as if he were the patron himself.
After two hours' steady going the horizon ahead
of us became very black, and it looked as if a storm
might burst upon us any minute. Ramon spoke
a few words of the Indians' language, so he told
them to put in shore and prepare a palm-leaf
shelter in the centre of the canoe, under which
we could crawl in the event of rain. Accordingly,
we tied up close to the bank beneath some over
hanging branches, and as the others went off into
the forest to find the necessary materials, I remained
on guard.
At this point the river made a large sweep, and
while sitting back in the canoe my attention was
suddenly arrested by the sight of something moving
rapidly towards me on the outside of the bend.
As the object drew nearer, I made it out to be
an Indian girl with a short reddish cloth round
her waist, barely reaching to the knees, and a
string of beads round her neck. The canoe was
evidently hidden from view, as she was quite
unconscious of its presence ; at any rate, her
attention was so taken up looking for something
on the opposite shore that her gaze was never
turned in my direction.
When quite close she stopped and shouted
" Ayu-ayu ! " pausing as if listening for an answer,
and then shouted again. A third time her
plaintive cry echoed over the green waters, and
103

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
impatient that no answer came from the forest
she waded out into the river, stopping at a shallow
spot in mid-stream. Again she called, and this
time a blast of cool wind that swept by, heralding
the approach of the coming storm, seemed to
carry some suggestion of a reply with it.
In her eagerness she bent down and splashed
the water with her hand, sending up the spray
about her like a shower of diamonds in the brilliant
sunshine. Her features were clearly visible and
quite attractive, so that, coupled with her natural
grace, she presented a picture of exquisite beauty
that is not usually associated with aborigines of
the Amazon country.
The response which she had been waiting for
so long came at last, and a stalwart Indian suddenly
appeared out of the forest. The girl raised her
hands above her head as if uttering a prayer of
thanks to her Indian gods, and then like a flying
fish darted through the water to him. A few
guttural sounds were audible, and together they
disappeared in the leafy depths of the forest ;
but for the rippling of the water silence once
more reigned supreme, and I rubbed my eyes to
make sure that it was not all a dream.
I was told afterwards that a scene such as this
was quite unusual amongst these people. There
is not much emotion displayed between the sexes,
and usually a woman is happy with any man,
seldom displaying a special desire for anyone in
particular, as was evident in this case.
Some minutes later the men returned, bearing
several enormous palm leaves, which they proceeded
to weave together in a most ingenious manner to
104

o <X
u<(J

wXZ
o w
oz<oCO
oXE-i p<

A TROPICAL DELUGE

form the roof of our shelter. Before it was com
pleted the storm broke with great violence, the
sun was obscured by a blanket of black clouds,
and floods of rain descended, which collected in
the canoe with astonishing rapidity, so much so
that we had to keep on baling it out vigorously. I
sat in the stern like a drenched rat, viewing my
surroundings with mingled feelings of dismay and
interest. Deluges of this variety were an entirely
novel experience for me, although later on I became
quite accustomed to them. Fortunately my gear
was not getting wet, for besides being covered
with a real waterproof sheet, the bundles did not
rest directly on the deck of the canoe, but were
raised five or six inches out of harm's way on a
skeleton framework of poles, and the water which
accumulated underneath was never allowed to
rise sufficiently high to cause any damage.
The rain ceased as abruptly as it had begun,
the wind also dropped, and although my clothes
were wringing wet, as soon as the sun came out
they dried off thoroughly in its scorching rays.
The shelter proved to be artistic as well as useful ;
I had imagined that it would look rather ugly,
but this was far from the case ; the appearance
of the canoe was greatly enhanced by it, and very
closely resembled in outline a Venetian gondola.
When all was ready a powerfullthrust from the
pole of the forward Indian and our slim craft
slipped away from the bank, swung round in the
current, and once more slid gracefully off down
stream over a fine expanse of water, comparatively
free from obstructions or shallow channels. Each
bend in the river exposed a more enchanting vista
105

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE s JUNGLE
than the last : new lights and shadows, new varieties
of trees and vegetation, till there seemed to be no
end to the combinations possible.
Here and there the endless mantle of green
which reached down to the water's edge was
broken by sand-bars, or playas, of such inviting
aspect that I was tempted to get out and examine
one more closely. It looked as if the Indians
divined my thoughts, as before long the canoe
was beached at the top end of a long stretch of
soft white sand. I was about to jump on shore
when Ramon motioned me to keep my place for
a moment, while the bogas landed in advance
and walked cautiously along the water's edge,
with their long knives held high above their heads.
I could not imagine what had possessed them,
till both blades flashed into the water, and two
fish minus their heads were hauled out by the
tail. It was a remarkable demonstration of skill,
repeated many times with unfailing accuracy, till
we had a nice assortment of fresh fish at our
disposal ; none were over twelve inches long,
but small fry were just as good eating as large
ones, as the evening meal went to prove.
Thus the afternoon wore on, the sun shifted well
round to our backs, relieving our eyes from its
reflected glare on the water, which at times had
been a little unpleasant. The air was delightfully
cool, and we drifted along amongst idealistic
surroundings, with not even a fly to disturb us.
The reverie into which I had fallen was suddenly
broken ; the forward boga, who had been straining
over to one side to get a better view ahead as we
approached a bend, lost his balance, and with
106

OVERBOARD

a resounding splash went overboard. For a
moment I had visions of my valuable cargo being
precipitated into the river, but instead of clutching
at the canoe to regain his equilibrium and thereby
upsetting everything, this brown son of the forest
took a graceful plunge into the green waters and
then climbed back on board with great dexterity,
just as if nothing had happened. No one com
mented upon the incident, so I also remained
silent, but in my innermost self I could not help
but admire the extraordinary agility and judgment
which he had shown in avoiding a catastrophe.
So far as the occupants of the canoe were
concerned, it made little difference to any of us
if we upset or not, but, alas ! one submersion
of the boxes containing my films would mean
the complete loss of all photos taken and damage
to my cameras, so that no further exposure could
be made. The possibility of such an event
occurring was for ever before me, and was the
source of continual anxiety ; how I ever got as
far as I did without an upset was beyond compre
hension, since on the return trip the avoidance
of logs, whirlpools, and rapids became our regular
routine day after day.
The superstitious would be interested to know
that the fateful day finally did come on a Friday,
the 13th day of September ; fortunately it was
towards the end of my travels, and, although at
a time when there was particularly interesting
material to be photographed, I had to console
myself with the philosophical thought that " it
might have been worse."
After the slight diversion just related we settled
107

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
down to another extended period of peace and
quiet, lasting for over an hour. We were discussing
the advisability of camping for the night when the
forward boga, tense with excitement, pointed to
a commotion in the water ahead of us. Without
losing a second he shipped his pole in the canoe,
grabbed a machete by his side, and was once more
overboard, only this time slashing about in the
water like a madman. He soon accomplished
his object, and swam ashore, dragging after him
a large fish about three feet long and having a
head at least ten inches broad. It was the most
repulsive monster I had ever seen, with its mouth
under the nose and its front fins terminating in
bunches of bright red bristles; a similar growth
protected its gills, and gave it a most ferocious
aspect. The Indians, much elated over their catch,
immediately started to remove its hard scales
and get it ready for cooking ; it was evident that
with such a prize not much more progress could
be expected, and the sooner we camped the sooner
our growing appetites would be satisfied. At
the first opportunity we tied up along the shore
for the night, and as there were hundreds of palms
growing everywhere, we soon had a neat roof
over our heads which would keep us dry under
the worst conditions of weather. The Indians
cut the large fish into hunks, which they roasted
in the embers of a fire, but Ramon and myself
preferred to boil the small fellows and eat them
with rice. The banquet was concluded at 7.15,
and every one having done full justice to the
simple fare, we turned in. 108

NOISES OF THE FOREST

Sleep did not come my way immediately
because so many interesting sights had crowded
themselves into the last twelve hours that I enjoyed
turning them over again in my mind. I had
my mosquito net up as a matter of precaution,
but there was no real need for it, as there were not
any insects to bother me on account of the evening
breeze from the mountains, which was very pro
nounced, and probably accounted for the name
of the place " Wyra Yacu," or " windy water,"
which was what the Indians called it. This
breeze from the hills was purely local and never
powerful at the best of times, the maximum distance
at which it could be felt away from the foot of the
Andes was probably not more than fifteen to twenty
miles. At our next camp, Baradero, it was still
just noticeable, but beyond that point I had to
accustom myself to a sultry atmosphere and the
continual buzzing of mosquitoes throughout the
long hours of darkness.
Our night at Wyra Yacu will always remain
in my memory by reason of the many new noises
of the forest to which I was introduced ; birds,
animals, and insects kept up an incessant chant
all the night through ; they were not content
with uttering their respective cries once or twice
and being done with it, but seemed to derive
fiendish delight in taking up as prominent a position
as possible, and then settling down to a steady
concert with no intermissions. If one member
of the orchestra stopped, another would start,
so that there would be no interruption in the
programme, which lasted almost till daybreak.
When we awoke such a dense mist hung round
109

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
about us that we could hardly discern the trees on
the opposite bank. To have set out under these
conditions, in a narrow river at low water, would
have been to court disaster, and we were forced
to wait for the sun to dissipate it before moving.
After a good breakfast off more fish, we left at
9.15, well fortified for the day's work ahead of us.
The sun was low and off our starboard bow,
making it difficult, as well as unpleasant, to keep
a look-out ahead. For several hours on end we
slid along between high walls of forest growth
that were a continual source of joy to behold ;
occasionally the top of a tree would be covered
with a mass of flowers, red, mauve, or purple ;
otherwise everything was green, sometimes dark
green and sometimes light green, but always green.
At the confluence of the Paranapura, a river
carrying about the same volume of water as the
Cachi Yacu, there were more sand-bars and open
stretches, but we did not stop to inspect them
or behead any fish as we had done the day
before, as our destination, Baradero, was barely
a mile below this point, and I was anxious to make
it early in the afternoon, so as to get some "movies"
of my men and the canoe before the light failed.
Just as we arrived, Francisco Mesa, the enter
prising citizen who lived at this remote outpost,
was about to start up-stream for Balsapuerto,
but he told his wife, a pleasant-looking woman,
to put us up and make us as comfortable as possible.
We were accordingly assigned a place to sleep
in, the Indians, Ramon, and myself all occupying
the same room. The house was of a kind similar
to the one I lived in at Balsapuerto, but much
no

A TRADER'S LIFE

larger, consisting of five or six rooms in all.
Instead of rushing on to Yurimaguas the following
day, as was my' original intention, I decided to
prolong my stay and take my time about securing
the photographs which I had set my mind on
getting. It was always interesting to me to know how
men like Francisco Mesa managed to keep alive.
He was supposed to be a trader, but so far as I
could gather there was practically no one to trade
with, except a few half-castes living in the vicinity,
who could not have been very profitable customers
at the best of times. His chief source of income
was probably derived from the sale of aguardiente,
or rum, made from the sugar-cane, which grew
abundantly close to the house, the Indians
apparently being the largest customers of the
product ; both of mine must have done them
selves pretty well, as each night they yelled in
their delirium until I was rather nrevous for my
own safety.
When the cane had matured it was cut and
brought to the house, where it was crushed in
a small all-metal trapiche, or rolls, worked by
oxen, and the juice collected in large copper
cauldrons, finally emerging, after the most primitive
treatment possible, in the form of crude sugar,
not of a brown colour, as is usually the case, but
quite white. Bananas and yucas were the chief
source of food, but a few head of cattle, pigs, and
an assortment of fowls were always at hand for
an occasional change of diet. No doubt many
natural products of value were found in the forests,
but so far as I could ascertain no one bothered
ill

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
with them, and rubber, if it grew, was not worth
collecting in view of the low prices which prevailed.
- Taken altogether, it is difficult to see how it
would be possible to do anything but just live
in a place like this ; provided one were satisfied
to vegetate, well and good, but even then I should
prefer Moyobamba, which held out the remote
possibility of a future, and was more picturesque
in its surroundings. Baradero was far from
being unpleasantly situated, but it lacked the
wooded hills and the ample valley which were
responsible for much of Moyobamba's charm.
Mesa's house was on a hillock commanding
a fine view of the river, and at sufficient elevation'
to look down upon the forest, which extended
without interruption so far as the eye could see
on all sides. Out of this wilderness of green
the sun rose every morning, timidly but surely
driving away the cobwebs of mist that floated
over the tree-tops, and into it again it plunged
each evening with incredible splendour, bathed
in all the colours typical of a tropical sky.
Time did not hang heavily on my hands ; all
day I was out and about seeing things and getting
photographs or motion pictures wherever possible.
A quarter of a mile up-stream was an open stretch
of water and a large sand-bar, where I was able
to get some good " movies " of my canoe and the
bogas who accompanied me. They were very
nervous of the camera, but with patience and
Ramon's help I was able to procure some in
teresting material indelibly impressed on several
hundred feet of film.
Senora Mesa had but one solitary child, about
112

AN INDIAN FROM THE CACHI YACU.

INDIAN FROM THE PARANAPURA PAINTED FOR THE
JOURNEY.

AN IMPOSSIBLE INFANT

two years old, which deserves mention. It would
eat everything it could get hold of, banana skins
included ; never have I seen an animal, human
or otherwise, devour such an assortment of rubbish.
When it was not grubbing for food on the earthen
floor, it would howl and scream like a parrot, but
the fond mother paid not the slightest heed to
it, and once when I asked if possibly it was ill,
she replied that children were always like that.
When evening came on it would fall asleep out
of sheer exhaustion, much to the relief of every one.
Then Ramon, quite in his element, would play
cards with my hostess, leaving me free to write
up my notes or reflect on the happenings of the
day in peace.
I was told that Baradero could be reached in
one day's journey from Balsapuerto, providing
a start was made before eight in the morning.
To return against the current requires two or
three days. Baradero to Yurimaguas is consider
ably longer, taking two days down-stream and
four days up. When the day finally came
for our departure my companions and myself
were a little late in getting away. This time I
was the culprit, for as we were about to set out
a number of Indians arrived decked out in their
native finery, and nothing short of unpacking
the camera and photographing them would satisfy
me. It was not a long process, but it took some
time to get the men friendly and at their ease,
so that their photos would not have a painfully
strained expression. They were of an entirely
different tribe to those in Balsapuerto, who were
of Jebero stock ; their facial characteristics differed
H 113

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
considerably : better featured, although rather
heavy, and with none of the Mongolian look about
the eyes.
All of the Indians whom I had met to date came
in contact with traders, and so could hardly be
called wild, except in comparison with the half-
caste settlers. These latter people were usually
very surly and bad-tempered, showing that the
hand of civilisation had not dealt kindly with
them, or made their lot in this world any happier.
In subsequent encounters with tribes who see
little, if anything, of the whites, I was surprised
to find them naturally happy and cheerful, just
like children, always ready to join in a hunt through
the forest or go fishing in the river, and many a
good laugh I have had in their company. To
see these people it is necessary to get still further
away from the beaten track than Baradero, which,
to the people of Europe, might seem an impossi
bility, yet two or three days on foot through the
woods either side of the Paranapura and the traveller
would soon find himself in places which have
only been trodden by the bare feet of savages.
It requires a peculiar temperament and an
understanding of human nature not possessed by
the average man, to be successful in one's dealings
with such people. Sometimes the unconscious
ignoring of a trivial custom may result in open
hostility, not necessarily a free fight, but an
antagonistic atmosphere which may be just as
bad, ending in valuable information being withheld
or else useful assistance not being rendered. On
my last expedition, for instance, I encountered
some Indians who have the not unusual custom,
114

ONCE MORE ON THE MOVE
when entering a strange house, of leaving all
their weapons outside, by way of showing that
their mission is a peaceful one. A member of
my party visited such a household carelessly
carrying his rifle. He was surprised and somewhat
annoyed when the inmates sat in stony silence
and could not be induced to speak a word. Later
on, when these same people were approached
in the right manner they were perfectly friendly
and even helpful, but they never forgave the first
offender for his display of bad manners.
At 10.20 everything was back in the canoe,
healths were drunk, and amidst much shouting
we swiftly disappeared from view down the flowing
road to Yurimaguas. My bogas did not care
to indulge in any more drinks ; they had had
enough and realised the fact, as to all offers of a
further supply they replied " Nani," or " No."
Fortunately the excess which they had indulged
in did not impair their capacity for work, or their
skill in manipulating our craft, for all day long
up to 4.30 they plied their paddles incessantly,
and but for a short stop of twenty minutes their
efforts never relaxed for an instant.
In places the river widened out considerably,
and in others narrowed down between high banks
thirty or forty feet high. Occasionally there weie
bad obstructions, such as tree-trunks or piles of
debris, but these were chiefly on bends, and with
successful handling did not hinder a canoe
travelling with the current. We slipped through
gaps without a hitch, although, of course, had
we been coming up-stream there would have been
a very different story to tell. Another noticeable
115

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
change for the better was the absence of shallow
channels such as we had encountered in the upper
reaches of the Cachi Yacu, where the water hurried
along with considerable noise and commotion.
Here it moved softly between well-defined walls
oi tropical forests, only complaining when obstruc
tions were put in its way. Many beautiful
butterflies were to be seen, the usual large morphos
floating majestically over the water, and smaller
ones darting about singly or else hovering in
clouds over some particular spot on the banks
that fascinated them.
About 4 p.m. we passed a clearing on the
south bank at the confluence of a small river called
Mauca Yacta, or " old village." An old woman
was chewing yuca outside the dwelling, and as
we drew up along the shore Ramon called out
to her in his most polite manner if we might camp
for the night ; she snarled at him in return,
mumbling something about there being no room
and the hour being early, hence we hastily with
drew and carried on for another thirty minutes,
coming to rest at an open spot where there was
an abandoned hut.
Habitations of this kind, when occupied, are
often the most charming places imaginable, which
seem to radiate the very essence of life in its simplest
possible terms, but deserted they exude a stifling
atmosphere of death, from which anyone who
approaches them instinctively recoils.
I removed the door to look inside, while the
men were making the canoe fast and carrying
the cargo up the bank ; all was dark, mildew
had spread its blight over everything, numerous
116

AN ABANDONED HUT

repulsive fungi adhered to the rotting timbers,
and through every crack rapacious vines had crept,
covering much of the floor with their bleached
foliage, as if trying to obliterate traces of some
tragedy that had been enacted within. Over in
a corner lay several logs star-fashion, where the
last fire had burned itself out, and round about
a few earthen vessels. The air also was laden
with noxious odours of decay, and made me wonder
what was the true history of this deserted spot ;
here surely the aspirations and hopes of some one
must have come to an untimely end, but no one
knew, or ever will know, so lifting the door back
in place I left the solving of the mystery to the
spirits of the forest, who whispered it from one
tree-top to another throughout the lonely hours
of the night.
We selected a more cheerful place out in the
open for our camp, and in short order a fire was
blazing away, and we were well established for
the night. All day the heat had been very severe,
and frequently I was glad to crawl under the
palm-leaf shelter of the canoe for a brief spell
in the shade. Even at the late hour of 5.30, when
I sat down to write up my notes, the perspiration
ran off me in streams, and the screech of parrots
winging their way homeward overhead, all helped
to remind me that I was really in the Amazon
country at last.
We took advantage of a fine moon to make an
early start at four o'clock. The pandemonium
which had reigned in the forest all night had com
pletely subsided ; the silence was almost oppressive ;
occasionally the mournful cry of a bird or the
117

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
splash of some big fish in the river split the silence ;
once there was a terrifying crash as a large tree
nearby fell to its doom ; otherwise not a sound
was heard.
With luck we expected to make Yurimaguas
by evening, but at just what hour I had no idea.
It was a good opportunity to practise the sign-
language with the Indians, so I called to one of
them and pointed east, saying Yurimaguas, then
waited for a reply. He looked in the direction
of the rising sun, pointed to it, and then slowly
moved his arm over his head in a semicircular
sweep, coming to rest at an angle of about 25 °
with the horizon. According to his way of
reckoning we would reach our destination when
the sun was at that position in the heavens, or
roughly 4 p.m. We actually stepped on shore
at 3.30, so he was not far out. It is surprising
how quickly one gets into the habit of relying
on the sun instead of a watch, and a little practice
soon makes perfect. For amusement I would
often test Ramon's judgment against my watch,
and found him almost invariably to be correct
within half an hour.
After a light breakfast we broke camp and
slipped off silently down-stream as the first grey
streak of dawn diffused itself through the mist.
Forty minutes later we passed Armana Yacu
(" bathing water "), a stream coming in on the
south bank, and after three and a half hours Yana
Yacu (" black water "), also on the south bank.
These seemed to be the only tributaries of any
size, although two small ones occurred on the
northern shore and a small one called Chambira,
118

THE PARANAPURA

which is more of a brook than a river, which was
passed on the south bank at 1.20 p.m.
The entire course of the Paranapura is very
tortuous, and twists about in every conceivable
direction ; sometimes we were actually heading
south-west, the direction we were supposed to be
coming from ; in several places we could even see
the mountains we had traversed on foot. The
innumerable bends in the river broke the monotony
of the journey, but at times they were decidedly
tiresome. When travelling in the Sierra time
is lost by continually struggling up and down
steep mountain slopes, which, after a hard day's
ride, only advance one a few miles if measured
in a straight line as the crow flies. On the rivers
time is lost to the same extent by following all
the twists and turns of the main channel, which
result in traversing almost three times the actual
distance necessary. In both cases flying machines
would save an enormous amount of time, reducing
weeks of laborious effort to as many hours of
comfortable travelling.
Raimondi, the great Italian traveller and cart
ographer, shows the course of the Paranapura
with great accuracy, and my rough observations
seemed to agree very closely with his rendering
of it. I always carried one of his maps with me,
and the more I travelled through Peru the greater
admiration I had for his work. In places he
was, of course, greatly in error, but the average
accuracy with which he has covered an enormous
area is certainly astounding ; of all general maps,
past and present, his is by far the best and most
reliable. His names of places are often misleading,
119

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
especially those about which he got second-hand
information, but they are no worse than modern
maps, the chief object of which seems to be the
insertion of as many names as possible, in order
to give the impression that the country is densely
populated. Most of these places are not inhabited,
and never have been, the name being given by
some passing traveller. I recall a typical case
in point on the Maranon, where I met a half-caste
trader coming down-stream on a raft laden with
rubber ; we camped together for the night, and
my mestizo friend, helping himself lavishly to
my small supply of rum, declared that in celebration
of the great occasion the spot where we met should
in future be known as " Cordial," and no doubt
it will appear as such on future maps of the
district. The day's journey was without incident ; we
drifted down-stream till the rhythmic splash of the
paddles, coupled with the intense heat, was enough
to produce profound hypnotic sleep ; there were
no diversions or exciting episodes to distract our
attention either ; towards the latter part we saw
a number of habitations, one in particular at Limon
which was perched up on the side of quite a large
hill, probably 200 feet high. Directly on the
other side of this hill the Huallaga river flows ;
both rivers are close to each other at this point,
but they separate once more, and it is a two-and-
a-half hours' journey down-stream before they
actually join. At the junction the Paranapura
assumes a very appreciable gradient, which is
particularly noticeable in the dry season.
Our canoe went jostling down the turbulent
120

A TYPICAL HABITATION IN THE RIVER COUNTRY.

YURIMAGUAS

waters for 200 yards at a great rate ; we then
swung round into a back eddy, kept close inshore,
and laboriously poled our way for twenty minutes
up the Huallaga to the town of Yurimaguas, which
we finally reached after a day of ten hours'
steady travelling.

121

CHAPTER VII
The town of Yurimaguas consists of a motley
array of buildings strung out along the high ground
on the west bank of the Huallaga river, where it
is secure from inundations at all seasons of the
year. It looks much larger than it actually is,
but its importance as a commercial centre cannot
be gauged altogether by the amount of ground
it covers. To one fresh from the mountains
the incessant flood of water which sweeps by its
very doors gives it the appearance of a seaport,
rather than an inland town, 2,500 miles away
from the sea ; as a matter of fact, this impression
is not far removed from the truth, because it can
be reached quite easily by river steamer from
the Atlantic seaboard in five weeks, whereas it
had taken me full two months of toil to get to it
over the Andes from Pacasmayo, barely 300 miles
away in a straight line. That it was more accessible
from the outside world than any other place I
had seen for a long time was evident from the
abundance of that useful but intensely ugly material,
corrugated iron, which adorned the roofs of half
the houses visible. Many windows also were
of glass, a commodity I had not seen since
leaving Cajamarca.
A letter of introduction to one of the leading
122

A DELIGHTFUL HOST

citizens of the town, Sr. Miguel Acosta, served
me in good stead, and resulted in my spending
a couple of enjoyable days at his house, while
waiting for a launch to take me on to Iquitos ;
otherwise I should have been obliged to more
or less camp out in some empty hut, as I had
done in Balsapuerto.
Don Miguel was a man of unusual energy for
one who had spent so much of his life in the hot
river country, and on top of this his charming
personality made him a delightful and entertaining
host. His wife had been dead some years, and
the children were all at school in Lima, the capital
of the Republic, which might have been at the
other end of the world so far as he was concerned,
for he never saw them, and never would, until
their education was completed.
Needless to say, his family had not travelled
the way I had just come, nor even by another
route considerably easier called the Pichis, but
had gone down the Amazon to Para, and thence
all round the north of South America through
the Panama Canal, and south again along the
Pacific coast to Callao and Lima. The time taken
to make this journey can be better appreciated
by saying that it is possible to travel from London
to Lima and back again in almost the same time as
it now takes to get from Yurimaguas to Lima.
Without standing on ceremony, Don Miguel
had the bogas bring up my gear from the canoe
and deposit it in his comfortable house, where I
settled down to a brief spell of civilised existence.
It would be difficult to describe what my
impressions were on viewing the Huallaga for
123

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the first time from an elevated position on the
bank. To say that its great width and the enormous
volume of water which it carried astounded me
is to put it mildly. The Paranapura, in its lower
reaches, seemed to be a river of some size, especially
when surveyed from a canoe, yet in comparison
it was an insignificant brook, hardly worth marking
on the map. This was the dry season, too, and
a large sand-bar, 200 yards across, was lying exposed;
in the rainy season this bar was not only awash,
but actually ten feet under water, the total rise
amounting to twenty feet, which gave a depth
of over forty feet of water in the main channel,
up which 2,000 ton steamers could navigate all
the way from the mouth of the Amazon.
As a result of the war the whole Upper Amazon
country was suffering from acute depression in
every line of effort ; prior to this event the bulk
of the food consumed, such as corn, rice, beans,
and potatoes, was imported from Europe ; now
this source of supply was cut off through lack of
ships and high freight rates, etc. Ordinarily, it
would have been a blessing in disguise to have
the country thus thrown back on its own resources,
but the rainy season just passed had been
phenomenally wet, and the floods which had crept
out over the surrounding country had completely
destroyed all the plantations of bananas and yucas ;
for this reason there was a serious food shortage,
which almost amounted to starvation, amongst
the poorer people.
I soon learnt, to my sorrow, that even if food
were scarce, there was no shortage of mosquitoes ;
the first evening they got after me with so much
124

BUYING A TICKET

vigour, as I sat out in the open chatting with some
of the natives, that I was forced to seek refuge
under my net. It was the first occasion on which
I had been really tormented by an insect of any
kind since leaving the sandy stretches of the Pacific
coast, and it was not to be the last by any manner
of means. When I complained about being bitten,
my companions only laughed, saying that there
were no sancudos (mosquitoes) in Yurimaguas,
the true significance of which remark I did not
fully appreciate till later on in my travels, when
it became a regular part of the night's work to
fortify myself against the attacks of these vicious
insects, which persistently hovered round in clouds,
hoping to get at their victim in an unguarded
moment. I had barely settled down in my new quarters
before I started preparations for my departure.
It might come as a surprise to those who consider
the crossing of the South American continent
a herculean task to know that once in Yurimaguas
a ticket — a real ticket — can be purchased for the
large sum of £2 that entitles the bearer to a passage
on an uncomfortable river launch as far as the
town of Iquitos, situated at the head waters of
deep sea navigation on the Amazon. From Iquitos
one can travel in a luxuriously appointed steamer
of 3,000 tons the remaining two thousand odd miles
to the Atlantic, and there the journey ends.
After the strenuous and varied conditions of
travel which I had encountered so far, this sounds
as if the finale of my excursion into the wilds would
be dull in the extreme, and so it might have been
but for my decision to turn west once more at
12s

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
Iquitos and return to the coast of Peru by another
route which, according to the natives, was impass
able ; it meant fighting one's way up a stream
teeming with rapids and every other evil known
to man, to say nothing of a hostile tribe of Indians
who had the ungentlemanly habit of decapitating
their enemies and shrinking their heads down to
the size of an orange. With such contingencies in
view there was no need for me to be despondent
over the prospects of a monotonous ending to
my journey.
Whilst on the subject of transcontinental routes,
a few remarks concerning those through Northern
Peru and Ecuador may not be out of place. To
begin with, all of these have Iquitos as their main
objectives, and all take advantage of tributaries
of the Amazon to get there. There is only one
regular official route which can be traversed in
comfort of a relative kind ; it is called the Pichis,
and starts from Lima, crossing the Andes by rail
to Oroya, then by a splendid trail via La Merced
to Puerto Bermudez, and thence by canoe and
launch down the Pachitea and Ucayali rivers. It
is an easy trip, presents no particular difficulties,
and can be traversed in either direction with equal
facility. Further north there is a little-used route
starting from Cerro de Pasco, which can be reached
by rail ; several days' ride on mule-back from this
point the Huallaga is encountered. The descent
of this river on raft is dangerous and exciting,
the last rapids being about eighty miles above
Yurimaguas, after which the journey is easy. Next,
comes the route in from Pacasmayo, one of the
most arduous as well as the most interesting.
126

THE LAUNCH ADOLFO

Further north another crossing can be made,
starting from Chiclayo or Paita via Jaen, and down
the Maranon to Iquitos. That section of the
country from Bella Vista to the Pongo de Manseriche
is quite uninhabited except for Indians, and
dangerous rapids are sprinkled along the course of
the river ; this is the route I took on my return
journey. In Ecuador the Andes can be traversed in
several places, but the most important ones strike
the head waters of either the Santiago, Pastaza,
or Napo rivers, each offering about the same
difficulties to the traveller. The last-named river
flows into the Amazon below Iquitos, but a portage
can be made overland to avoid this up-stream
work if necessary, or else one can travel on down
stream without going near the town at all.
The launch which plied between Yurimaguas
and Iquitos once a fortnight rejoiced in the name
of Adolfo and was one of the largest employed
on the Upper Amazon. According to the pub
lished time-table it should have left Yurimaguas
the very day of my arrival, but luckily it was not
running on schedule, otherwise I should have
been doomed to remain two whole weeks waiting
for its return, or else purchased a raft and floated
down-stream to my destination. I was rather
tempted to follow this latter course, so as to get
more intimate knowledge of the river, but the
absence of a moon meant very slow progress,
since we would be unable to travel at night.
Fortunately for me the river was extremely low,
and the Adolfo got stuck on the mud when almost
within sight of the town ; here it remained for
127

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
twenty-five hours, puffing and panting in its efforts
to get free, until a freshet came along at a convenient
moment and floated it off.
It sometimes happens that a launch will get so
securely wedged that it has to wait a month or two
for the rainy season to commence before it can
move. Taking it all round, it struck me that the
captains of these craft spent some anxious moments
in the exercise of their duty, and I never envied
them their job.
The Adolfo announced its belated arrival by
means of a few piercing screams from its whistle,
which reverberated over the forest in a vulgar
manner, quite out of keeping with the surroundings.
As soon as it had been tied up securely along the
edge of a sand-bar, I went over to inspect it more
closely, and incidentally book my passage for the
return trip. The captain, a young man of
considerable ability, showed me round with a
good deal of pride. Although one could scarcely
compare his packet with the Olympic, it was spacious
and well laid out for the services it had to perform.
The few cabins on the upper deck were merely
dark cupboards, in which the more prosperous
passengers could retire for the night ; at any rate,
they were clean, which is saying a good deal,
considering that the launch was thirteen years
old. Fully loaded with eighty tons of cargo, it
drew seven feet of water, and was propelled by a
120 h. p. engine at a speed of from ten to twelve knots.
My intention had been to take Ramon with me
to Iquitos, but the poor fellow began to feel home
sick, and asked if he might not return to his beloved
Moyobamba. He had worked well and been a
128

THE "ADOLFO " STOPS TO TAKE ON A SUPPLY OF WOOD,

RAMON RETURNS HOME

really cheerful companion, whose society I had
much enjoyed, so it was difficult to part with him ;
however, I had a sympathetic feeling, and did not
press him to remain. The following day he set
out on foot in high spirits, the various cooking
utensils which I had presented him with dangling
round his neck, a good supply of provisions, and
plenty of money in his pocket ; happy as a lark, he
was profuse in his thanks for the trifles I had
given him.
Since that day I have seen him many times, not
in the flesh — nor in the spirit either, as I am not a
spiritualist — but through the medium of that
commonplace but no less wonderful invention,
the motion picture machine. He figured in a
good many of the films taken, and to see his animated
picture helping in the manufacture of panama hats,
or else sitting in the canoe giving orders to the
Indians, invariably makes me laugh, and recalls
the many amusing incidents in which he took the
leading part.
Preparations for continuing my journey were
not difficult ; everything was packed up, and it
was only a case of transferring my belongings to
the confined quarters on board the launch. I paid
a visit to the sub -prefect to satisfy the natural
curiosity of the official mind about me, and very
glad I was that Don Miguel had suggested my
doing so ; the more friends one has the better, and
this man certainly proved himself a most agreeable
addition to the magic circle. He told me much
concerning the commercial possibilities of the
Huallaga district, and how one day it would develop
into an important centre. I was inclined to agree
I 129

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
with him, as on several occasions I had seen
pronounced oil sepages and other indications of
this valuable product, samples of which gave most
excellent results on analysis.
Oil is found in other rivers also, and my personal
opinion is that oil will prove the salvation of the
Upper Amazon, replacing rubber, cotton, and
other products which to-day are not worth anything.
Yet another industry which will thrive in the years
to come will be the production of alcohol from the
superabundance of vegetation, especially some of
the hard woods which abound in the forests. The
occurrence of salt is fairly extensive to the south of
the Amazon, or Maranon, as it is called in Peru,
but to the north of this river in a group of effluents,
namely, the Morona, Pastaza, Tigre, and Napo, it
is seldom, if ever, encountered.
Many years ago the Indians used to come from
these rivers to the Huallaga in search of salt, which
represented a journey of considerable magnitude
for a dug-out canoe. The Indians near the Upper
Huallaga have a primitive method of mining it,
wherever it occurs in blankets near the river bank.
Their interesting method is to expose the upper
surface and cause water to trickle over it in little
grooves about eight inches apart. Under the
action of the water the grooves get so deep that
they cut right through the mass to bedrock ; the
blocks are then broken up into fragments and
carried away.
As already stated, everything at the time of my
visit was at a standstill, and there was barely enough
money to keep business going, let alone embark on
new developments which necessitated capital. I
130

WRITING UNDER DIFFICULTIES
did not have to look far to appreciate this ; from
the window of my room I could see a house fifty
yards away, the whole side of which had fallen
away, exposing two entire rooms to view. The
owner had not the means to repair the damage,
and it was really amusing to see the utmost
unconcern with which the occupants went to bed
every night and got up in the morning, just as if
the wall had been there.
On the afternoon of Thursday, August ist, I
transferred my abode to the good ship Adolfo.
No one seemed to know exactly when we should
sail, neither did anyone care. Some of the
passengers said we were due to leave immediately,
others hinted at a delay of several days. The
cause of the uncertainty was the arrival of a canoe
from up river bearing the news that three rafts,
laden with cattle and provisions for Iquitos, were
on their way, and apparently we could not sail until
they had arrived and transhipped their cargo.
To help pass the time away I sat down at a table
on deck to write up my notes. It was a hopeless
task ; the natives — to whom writing and maps
seemed to be a distinct novelty — hung round in
a circle, watching every movement I made with
so much interest that pen and paper had to be put
away, and I paced up and down the little deck
instead. Before long it started to pour with rain, and it
was hard to find a dry spot to stand in; then,
when the rain had let up, the sun shone with
renewed vigour, and I was treated to a steaming
vapour bath till darkness fell and brought a little
relief. Even then do not let it be imagined that
131

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
I was left in peace for long ; it was now the
mosquitoes' turn to torment me, and they did so
with such effect that the only course to pursue
was to retire to my hot and stuffy cabin, and, safely
under my net, hope and pray that daylight would
come soon. A few hours were passed in fitful
slumber ; shouts from the crew at frequent
intervals would awaken me, until the combination
of noises and stifling atmosphere proved unbearable,
and in despair I got up at 3 a.m. and went
on deck once more.
The rafts we had been expecting had arrived,
and their cargo was being actively stowed away in
our hold. Close over our heads clouds of damp
mists were drifting slowly by, occasionally the
pale crescent moon looked through as if disgusted
with life, like myself. When all the freight was on
board there still remained half a dozen head of
cattle to be dealt with. They were out to cause
trouble, balking at the gang-plank and refusing
to cross it. The captain was impatient at the
delay, and made short shift of them ; one end
of a strong line round the base of the horns and a
few turns of the other end round the pulley of a
steam- winch, was all that was necessary, and they
were yanked on board despite their desperate
struggles of resistance. One slipped off into the
water, causing a frightful commotion, but he was
soon recovered and tied up safely on the lower deck
with his companions.
At four o'clock we were actually under weigh,
and had dropped down-stream a mile or two, only
to encounter a heavy mist, which arrested further
progress until it lifted. 132

THE START

At 6.30 we really did start, and, the current in our
favour, we shot off down the river at a good speed
of thirteen knots. The artificial breeze, produced
by our passage through the air, put new life into
every one, and effectively dispelled the unsavoury
odours that had wafted up from the lower deck
while we lay at anchor. It seems absurd to think
that such trifles as unpleasant smells, heat, and
mosquitoes could produce a state of affairs that was
well nigh insufferable, yet such was the case ; to
me, insect pests were absolute torture, and had I
ever been called upon to choose between, say, short
rations or no mosquitoes, I would certainly have
preferred the scanty food supply every time.
We had not been under weigh long before the
sun had chased away every vestige of the morning
mist, and we were treated to an exceptionally clear
day. To add to the bodily comfort of the
passengers some excellent coffee was served on
deck, with a boiled banana or two to cheer them up,
after which I settled down to enjoy the novelty of
my surroundings to the full. It might be supposed
that during the past two months I had experienced
pretty well every phase of travel possible, but life
on a river launch was yet a new sensation to add to
my list, and one not easily forgotten. We made
our way swiftly down-stream, sometimes close to
the shore — a shelving bank of mud thirty feet high,
bedecked with all varieties of tropicalj/oliage— or
else away out in the centre of the river. ?.£j
Once in a while there would be a blaze of coloured
flowers on some tree top, but it was an unusual
occurrence and generally excited comment. Glaring
sand-bars were laid bare to the sun at every bend,
133

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
some small, others stretching for hundreds of yards
without a break ; then again the river would divide
leaving a picturesque island in the centre. How
different everything was to the great Andean
uplands which I had traversed not long ago ; even
the language used about me seemed strange, and
I had to accustom my ear to many new words.
Heretofore conversation had centred round mules,
trails, or alfalfa, in the vernacular of which I had
become quite expert ; now every one talked about
sand-bars, turtles, forests, etc., which were quite
new topics, and made me feel more like a stranger
in a foreign land than I had ever felt before. Even
a dictionary was not always helpful, as most objects
had local names that were quite unrecognisable ;
for instance, in speaking of turtles I used the
word tortuga as being what seemed to me near
enough to have people understand, but it meant
nothing to my companions, and it was only when I
saw one of these animals on a sand-bar some time
later that I discovered the right name to use
was charapa.
Of passengers we carried but few ; Marco Morey,
a personal friend of Don Agustin in Moyobamba,
was amongst them, and he and half a dozen other
men were going on a voyage of discovery up the
Rio Potro, a small tributary of the Maranon, on
the south bank, just above the military outpost of
Barranca. His idea was to see if a passage could
be found across country connecting the Maranon
with the Mayo river. The large dug-out canoe
that he was using had been lashed to the side of
the Adolfo, and was being transported as far as
Tres Unidos, from which point they would have
134

CRASHING OVER SAND-BARS
to transfer their belongings to its fragile hull
and continue their journey under less favourable
conditions. How well they succeeded in their
undertaking will be related further on. The only
other passenger of distinction was a repulsive
ruffian with kinky hair from the Congo ; he occupied
the lower bunk in my cabin, and did not impress
me very favourably. Fortunately for me he went
on shore the next day at some uninviting spot,
and I had no feelings of regret over the loss of
his company.
Six times during the day we anchored and sent
out a dinghy ahead to sound out a doubtful passage ;
then when once the captain's mind was made up
as to the best course to steer, nothing stopped him ;
he went full tilt ahead, sliding and scraping over
shallow sand-bars with exclamations from the
passengers of " Oh ! oh ! " as we nearly came
to rest on some of the worst. Fortunately we did
not get stuck, largely as a result of the launch
being down at the bow ; if we did strike any sand
the momentum of the first impact was enough to
clear a passage over which the stern passed easily.
Worse than the sand-bars were the submerged
timbers, which we collided with on several occasions
in a most alarming manner.
In the afternoon a heavy storm sprung up,
accompanied by an unusually violent wind ; white
caps appeared without a moment's warning, and
the water became so rough that I should not have
cared to venture upon it in anything but a big
boat. The rain came down in torrents, swamping
Morey 's canoe, which broke adrift, and soaking
every one and everything in good shape. The roof
135

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
over the top deck might have been very satisfactory
as a sunshade, but it was no more use than a sieve
against the deluge which descended upon it. My
cabin was flooded, and the Jew clothes belonging
to the "Atrocity from the Congo," which he had
left lying about, were treated to an accidental
washing which otherwise it might never have been
their good fortune to experience. After a time
the disturbance blew over, and in the cool, pleasant
air of the evening I stood by the rail, wrapt in
contemplation of the scenes that glided before
me. Night came on rapidly, and the darkness was so
obscure that I supposed it would be impossible to
navigate the winding channel, but we continued,
nevertheless, without a stop up to 9 p.m., when
the captain announced his intention of taking on
fuel for the boilers. There was a wooding post
on the bank, and as we groped our way to it
there was an ominous grating sound, followed by
a sudden jerk that almost threw me off my feet.
There was no doubt about it this time, and we
came to an abrupt standstill on a sand-bar. The
engine was thrown into reverse, and as that did not
do any good we went full speed ahead again,
shaking the ship violently from stem to stern. The
crew ran round the deck, took soundings on all
sides, and shouted out something about brazos ;
the engines were then set in motion once more,
still without any result. As far as I could see we
were snugly settled on the mud for the night, and
as there was no chance of getting off I turned into
my bunk and went to sleep.
Two hours later I woke up with a start, conscious
136

THE AMAZON TWO HUNDRED MILES ABOVE IQUITOS.

A COLLISION

of some most awful jolts as the launch went bumping
over a number of submerged logs. Shouts of
palo ! or log, went up on all sides ; my cabin
companion was out of his bunk like a jack rabbit,
joining in the chorus, and exhorting the passengers
not to be afraid, and reassuring them (himself
included) that the whole launch was not about
to founder.
By this time I was wide awake, turning over in
my mind what effect the logs might have had on
the ship's hull ; then came another confused crash
of splintering wood, and boughs of trees came
breaking through the thin partition of the launch's
superstructure. So accustomed was I to consider
a ship in connection with the water, that this very
intimate association with the forest came as rather
a shock. I got up and made my way on deck to
see what was taking place, and there learnt that we
were at exactly the same place as when I had turned
in, only now, instead of on the mud, we were well
entangled in the overhanging branches of trees
which lined the bank.
An animated and voluminous conversation was
being carried on in the darkness between the
captain and a man on shore ; opinions were being
expressed pretty freely, the upshot being that there
was no firewood to be had anyhow, and we might
just as well have saved ourselves much trouble and
gone straight on without stopping. It took some
time to disentangle ourselves from the Montana
scenery, but we did so by degrees, and backed
slowly away from the shore; then the signal was
given once more for full steam ahead. The
navigator must have had eyes like a cat, for it was

137

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
impossible for me to make head or tail of the empty
black void into which we recklessly plunged.
The hour was late, but I had no inclination to
turn in to my wrecked quarters any sooner than was
absolutely necessary. Almost every one else wisely
slept on deck, where it was cool and pleasant, their
hammocks being slung in all directions, and so
close that it was difficult to walk about without
knocking up against one and causing the occupant
to indulge in a few select cuss words for having
been disturbed in his slumbers. For an hour I
remained up in the bow, peering out into the
darkness, till sufficiently sleepy to try my luck
once more in the stuffy cabin. Greatly to my
surprise I found it deliciously cool; our collision
with the forest had accomplished in rather a rough
and ready manner what the designer of the launch
should have done in the way of ventilation years
ago. The large hole which now existed allowed a
free circulation of air and made the place
habitable. The incident put me in mind of a man I met in
the mountains who had a home-made bath tub.
One day a friend accidentally shot a hole in the
bottom of it with a revolver, and when he apologised
profusely for his carelessness, the owner remarked
that the water had always run out very slowly,
and for some time past he had been thinking of
making another outlet, so really the bullet hole
would come in quite handy.
At 8 a.m. we arrived at the confluence of
the Huallaga and the Maranon — the name by
which the Amazon is known in its passage through
Peru. This remarkably interesting spot, locally
138

TRES UNIDOS

called Tres Unidos, filled me with unbounded
wonder, and vividly impressed on me the immensity
of this mammoth of waterways.
The vastness of the Amazon is hard enough to
comprehend, let alone describe ; here we were
roughly 2,300 miles from the mouth and yet in
places it was over a mile wide, and the green waters
moved slowly forward with a display of quiet but
overwhelming and irresistible force that was almost
uncanny. It exhibits no sign of impatience, hurry,
or disorder so often displayed by other rivers. The
Amazon moves with the unrelenting certainty of
time, sublime in the knowledge that nothing can
impede its progress.
No better time of day than early morning could
have been chosen to come upon such a place as
this for the first time. Before the sun gets high in
the heavens the shadows are pronounced, and the
natural colour of the landscape appears brilliantly
distinct ; Nature, also, is always alive at this hour,
and the early riser is well repaid for his trouble by
the sights he sees. Great fish flashed in the sun,
disturbing the quiet waters with their ponderous
movements ; bufeos rose to the surface to breathe,
snorted, and lazily disappeared from view ;
thousands of aquatic birds infested the more
shallow stretches, and even butterflies flitted across
our bow, as if on their way to the opposite shore
for a day's outing. Altogether it was a remarkable
sight, and one that stirred me most profoundly.
For a moment we lay to, while Morey and his
men transferred themselves and their belongings
to the canoe that had been lashed alongside the
Adolfo. Adrift on this tropical sea, they looked
139

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
no larger than a chip of wood ; and as, with a farewell
hoot from our whistle, we steamed away, they
paddled off to the nearest shore and were soon
lost to view.
The day passed off uneventfully ; once we
pulled up at a wooding station to take on fuel, and
on several occasions to sell some salt, or buy rubber
from a lonely sheringale, who announced his
presence on shore and his desire to barter by
discharging a shot-gun in the air.
The captain seldom bought or sold anything for
cash, but had a well-stocked shop on board, and
traded with the natives to good advantage — in fact,
he held his post as captain by virtue of his ability
to trade, and not on account of his extensive
knowledge of ships or fresh water navigation ;
the so-called practico, or pilot, looked after that
side of the business. The captain set up many of
these small settlers in business, providing them with
the necessary tools, and then getting paid back in
produce by instalments as their estates came ' into
bearing. None of the men whom I saw seemed
to have got very far ahead in the great struggle for
existence, and it was only as we neared Iquitos that
any signs of prosperity were encountered. To-day
even these better estates are bankrupt on account
of low prices, and abandonado, or abandoned,
is a word only too frequently heard on all sides.
One might well ask what the future of the Upper
Amazon is to be. Unless oil, of which I saw many
indications, renews interest in this part of the
world, large sections may revert to savagery, as for
instance in the Upper Napo, where already the
rubber gatherers have withdrawn, and the Indian
140

AN INDIAN SAYING

tribes who once occupied the territory have returned
to their original haunts.
It is not unlikely that the increasing use of
aeroplanes for commercial purposes in different
parts of the globe will enable similar developments
to take place in the Amazon. Rapid transportation
is an essential factor, and if the country is to be
opened up properly the intelligent use of flying-
boats or hydro-aeroplanes would change the whole
aspect of life, and make things possible which
otherwise would be quite out of the question. The
Murato Indians, whom I encountered in the
Pastaza river later on, had a most curious saying,
that " When the white man comes with wings
they are going to die." There is something
strangely interesting and pathetic in this simple
statement, for when aerial transport is an accom
plished fact in this part of the world the days of
the Murato Indians will indeed be numbered.
The third day out was very much the same as
those that preceded it. The river appeared slightly
larger, and it was only when we were close to the
banks that the size and variety of the forest growth
could be appreciated. To me every stop was of
interest, especially when it was possible to come
close alongside, instead of anchoring out in deep
water and sending a dinghy to the shore.
Turtles, rubber, and chancaca were the chief
products we collected ; at the same time enter
prising members of the crew took advantage of
the occasions when we were not moving to drop
a hook and line over the stern. Although not
always successful in their efforts, several large
monsters resembling cat fish were hauled on
141

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
board, which were devoured with relish by every
one in preference to the dried and unpalatable
fish called paiche that was served at each
meal. What struck me particularly about many of our
stopping places was the great prominence some
maps seemed to give to their names, whilst others,
eminently important centres in comparison, were
not mentioned at all. A careful study of my maps,
both old and new, only added to my confusion, as
judging from them the banks were sprinkled with
innumerable villages and several good-sized towns.
The owners of the launch also published a
formidable list of eighty-one official stopping places
along the route traversed, but let us see what happens
to these on analysis. Only four or five boasted
more than eight families, about seven had three,
and the balance are but single habitations, which
in a year or two will have sunk into oblivion.
Inaccuracies in the delineation of the river itself
are frequently obvious in every map, but this
can be excused, as the channel is continuously
shifting, and is never exactly the same two years
running. In the course of conversation with my travelling
companions I tried to collect some data for my
return trip to the Pacific coast. No one could
supply first-hand information as to passing through
the Pongo de Manseriche, but they seemed to
think that the water was much too turbulent for
a canoe, and it would be wiser not to try. The
banks of the Upper Maranon, they said, were
high, and not inundated in the rainy season ;
therefore it was a desirable country for settlers,
142

UNCERTAIN INFORMATION
but the Indians were the deterring influence which
kept people away. It was a common trait with
every one to whom I spoke to regard other places,
outside of their own particular section of the river,
as bad and inhabited by savages ready to murder
the first man who set his foot on shore. I listened
attentively to all that was told me, but found it
hard to separate fact from fable ; one point, at any
rate, was quite clear — that my return would entail
considerable physical exertion and be highly
interesting. At 1.30 we stopped at the mouth of the
Tigre river, a large stream on the north bank,
rising in Ecuador, down which comes considerable
rubber, piasaba fibre, and vegetable ivory. I
took several photographs whenever anything
interesting presented itself, but there was nothing
to differentiate one spot from another, there being
great similarity in the scenery. Water is water
all the world over, even in mid-channel of an
inland sea like the Amazon, so there was limited
scope for the camera.
Contrary to my expectations, I did not wake up
on the fourth day to find myself in Iquitos, but
some distance up-stream instead. We had spent
a large part of the night taking on a supply of
firewood, and it was not until 7.30, as we
were steaming due north, that we sighted the
wireless station some distance away on our port
bow. A huge island, that might well be mistaken
for the mainland, hid the town from view, and
bogas with rafts, coming down-stream for the
first time, often pass by in the east channel, missing
the place completely. The main river — at least,
J43

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the widest portion of it — passes to the east of the
island, whereas the deepest passage is to the west.
We kept well over to the left, and as we approached
it was surprising to see how wide the so-called
narrow passage actually was.
On the west bank stood the great inland capital
of Peru, 2,000 miles from the sea, yet the second
largest port in the Republic, dumped down in the
heart of the virgin forests, hundreds of miles from
nowhere. From the launch a fine array of white
buildings could be seen, in the construction of
which bricks, marble, and tiles had been lavishly
employed. Back of these again were the business
streets and residential quarters. The landing-stage
proved to be small, but substantially built, and
could accommodate about four steamers simul
taneously ; it has a large floating pier moored
alongside a structural steel jetty, and connected
to it by a bridge. Three cranes hoist the baggage
from the wharf and transfer it to the warehouse,
on the same level as the jetty, which stands
seventy feet above the level of the river in the dry
season. By 10.30 the Adolfo was safely berthed, and
I was at liberty to stretch my legs on shore. For
a full hour after our arrival the wharf presented a
very animated scene, and it was apparent that
trading was not the sole privilege of the captain.
The entire ship's company had something or another
to sell, whether it was turtles, sugar, or bananas —
at any rate, all of those things that had been brought
up river on speculation were now easily disposed
of, at advances in price ranging anywhere from
fifty to two hundred per cent.
144

CELEBRATING MY ARRIVAL
As there was no reason for me to hurry off to an
hotel, I celebrated the successful termination of the
first half of my journey by lunching in an appropriate
manner with the captain. Thanks to his courtesy
and good nature, the time spent on his launch
had passed most agreeably, in spite of the small
discomforts that characterised the start.

145

CHAPTER VIII
The Malecon Palace, an ornate hotel badly built,
yet constructed out of the most expensive materials
possible, occupies a prominent position on the
water-front of Iquitos, and is a typical monument
to the times when Amazon rubber commanded a
high price in the world's markets.
It was within its marble walls that I finally came
to rest, exactly nine weeks and a day since I had
turned my back on Pacasmayo and headed east
over the jagged ridges of the Andes. Of this time
only thirty-one days were actually spent on the
move, the balance being lost in resting animals or
arranging transport. Had I been disposed to
continue right across the continent I could have
embarked on a river steamer the following afternoon,
which would have landed me in Para three or four
weeks later. Pleasant as this would have been, my
course lay west through the great barrier — the
Pongo de Manseriche — whose mystic portals I
was particularly anxious to explore on my way back
to the Pacific coast.
Many and conflicting were the stories current
concerning this place. Few people had been near
it, and fewer still had ever passed through it.
Beyond, the country was settled by Indians,
Antipas and Aguarunas, both warlike tribes and
146

BAD REPORTS

unfriendly ; even the river had an evil reputation
for cataracts and whirlpools, which rendered it
unnavigable except for rafts that once in a while
had ventured down it in the dry season. To
travel up-stream in a light canoe under such
adverse conditions was generally held to be impos
sible ; I was told that it was courting disaster to
attempt it, but if my mind was made up to visit
the locality at all costs, it would be wiser to return
to Lima via the Pichis trail, go up the Peruvian
coast to Paita, inland once more over the mountains,
and then take the more sensible risk of descending
the river on a strongly-built raft. For various
reasons this latter course was not feasible, and
after thinking the matter over I decided to penetrate
as far as possible, and if insuperable difficulties
intervened it would be time enough to return and
take the easy route back to Lima.
Now, I had rather made up my mind to see the
great Pongo and the land above it, cost what it
might, so was not easily deterred by local rumours,
no matter how disquieting. It was true that the
passage of the rapids and whirlpools would be no
child's play, but with care, and patience to wait a
favourable opportunity, I figured that there should
be no grave risk ; furthermore, it was possible to
cope with the savages so long as one understood the
savage nature. Taking everything into considera
tion, I decided on making the attempt, and forthwith
threw myself heart and soul into the project.
In the detailed preparations for the adventurous
journey ahead of me I was ably assisted by many
of the community. Mr. Harrison, of the Booth
Steamship Co., offered to relieve me of much
147

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
unnecessary baggage, including the film and other
photographs taken so far on my travels. Had it
not been for his suggestion of forwarding it to
England direct, I should probably have lost all of
it later on when my canoe became entangled in a
whirlpool. Mr. Sharpe and Mr. Harris, both of
the Commercial Bank of Spanish America, took
great pains in hunting up every one who would be
of assistance, or who had any knowledge whatsoever
of the country I was to traverse. The Editor of
the leading newspaper in the town, El Oriente,
was also enthusiastic in his support ot the enterprise,
and I had many pleasant chats with this very able
man concerning various projects I had in mind.
Colonel Soyer y Cavero, the Prefect of the
Department of Loreto, was another man whose
courtesy and able assistance I had cause to be
grateful for not many months later ; he showed
me his collection of maps, and gave me many
valuable hints as to procedure when travelling in
the river country. The colonel was one of those
charming men of whom any country might be
proud, intensely patriotic and interested in every
effort, no matter how small, that might bring Peru
to the fore. He put himself to a great deal of
trouble on my account, and arranged that I should
travel on the Government launch, Cahuapanas,
which was leaving within a few days for Barranca,
on the Maranon, where a small military outpost
was quartered. I was very thankful for this
courtesy, as it would relieve me of two or three
weeks' tedious work up river in a canoe, a large
portion of which I had already traversed in
the Adolfo. 149

IQUITOS

What with developing photographs, preparing
my gear for the journey, and the many social
relaxations to which I was treated, time passed
all too quickly. When the day came to set out
I felt almost like one leaving his home town, rather
than a strange city which I had only set eyes on
for the first time a week previously.
A good deal could be written about this very
interesting place and its inhabitants, but there is
no need to go over ground which other writers
have done full justice to. Even the Amazon has
come in for its full share of comment, but a few
figures are worth giving, as they are more
illuminating than general statements as to its great
size, such as I have indulged in so far.
Few people realise that prior to the war ocean
going steamers of 3,000 tons sailed regularly from
Liverpool direct to Iquitos. On entering the
Amazon delta the pilot was usually taken on at
Salinas, no miles from Para. From thence to
Manaos the distance is 865 miles, and from Manaos
to Iquitos 1,172 miles ; this then places Iquitos
at the great distance of 2,147 English miles from
the open sea. At this remote point the river
is over three kilometres wide from bank to bank,
inclusive of an island in the centre ; the narrow
channel on the west of the island is 850 metres
across, and the wide channel on the east side
is 1,700 metres broad. In the rainy season
the river rises as much as forty feet, and the
maximum depth of the main channel may reach
seventy feet or even more.
A peculiarity not often mentioned is the enormous
amount of solid matter that gets swept along the
149

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
river bed, and is very troublesome at times to
heavy draught steamers. In the dry season careful
soundings are usually made all round the pier at
Iquitos prior to the arrival of a large ship. On one
such occasion twenty feet of water was registered,
but when the ship arrived a few hours later it went
aground in ten feet of water. Next day, when
every one was wondering what was the best thing
to do, the obstruction was swept away by the force
of the current, and the ship once more floated.
Renewed soundings showed thirty feet clear on
all sides, in spite of the fact that no new rise had set
in since the original soundings were made.
Saturday, August ioth, the day fixed for my
departure, finally arrived. At 5 p.m. I walked
down to the wharf in company with some friends,
and boarded the Government launch, Cahuapanas,
which was lying alongside.
The visions of a quiet journey in which I had
allowed myself to indulge soon vanished ; the
greatest confusion and hubbub imaginable existed ;
men swarmed over the decks and clustered around
the rails like bees, singing and shouting as if off on
a holiday, while others, more energetically inclined,
assisted in stowing away the remaining cargo,
which included some large smelly bundles of
dried fish.
Amongst this unsavoury collection of freight and
humanity I forced my way to the upper deck, the
lines were cast off, and we drifted rapidly from the
shore ; across the widening gap I managed to
catch the last remarks of those who had come to
see me off, to the effect that the next time they
saw my head they supposed the Indians would
150

ONCE MORE ON THE MOVE

have reduced it to the size of an orange ; then the
whistle blew violently, and we started to grind our
way up river. So slowly did we move that the
banks seemed almost motionless ; however, we
had started, and, after all, that was the most
important thing.
Given time, it is generally possible to adapt
oneself to almost any surroundings without much
difficulty, but it did not take long to realise that I
had my work cut out for me if life on board the
Government launch was to be made anything less
than prolonged agony. My perspective had, no
doubt, been seriously distorted by the splendour
of the Malecon Palace ; however, be that as it
may, my dreams were not of marble halls, but of
the good ship Adolfo, which in comparison persisted
in my memory as a palatial yacht of great
magnificence, upon whose ample deck I had
lazed away several days in luxury.
The Cahuapanas was of the usual double-decked
design, twenty-three years old, very small, and
with no privacy of any description whatsoever ;
of its seaworthiness it is unnecessary to speak,
beyond saying that the captain ordered my few
miserable packages down to the lower deck for
fear that so much extra weight on the upper one
might cause us to turn turtle. When I ventured
to remark that such a thing was hardly possible, he
replied briefly that it had already done so once.
After spending eighteen whole days on board
I wondered it had not done so more often, for it
was certainly the most unwieldy and top-heavy
contraption ever built. Alongside of us a lighter
was securely lashed, almost as large as the launch
151

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
itself, and so long as we did not part company our
equilibrium was fairly good, even if our speed
suffered somewhat. On one occasion we were
obliged to navigate alone, with the result that
we rolled and swayed in a manner not altogether
pleasant. A small amount of gear was stowed away on
board the lighter, but the deck space was chiefly
given over to human cargo, which littered it from
stem to stern. Seeing that the captain was not
disposed to be communicative, I tried the engineer,
with better results. He informed me that the
Government maintained sundry remote military
garrisons on the various rivers, and each year
this launch made the rounds with provisions and
a new lot of soldiers to replace those whose year
of outpost duty had come to an end. All of the
men on the launch, bar the crew and three or four
others, constituted the relief party, and would be
left at the various stations as we called upon them
in rotation. There were also many women amongst
the party, who did not wish to be separated from
their husbands during their twelve months' exile
in the forest.
Not all of the men were enthusiastic at the
prospects before them ; some of them were
decidedly melancholy, and one poor fellow
committed suicide rather than face the loneliness
of life in the wilds. He had sat in the stern of
the lighter day after day, brooding on the dismal
future ahead, till one afternoon, feeling particularly
disconsolate, he dropped overboard, and was
devoured by the crocodiles before any assistance
could be given. On the whole, these soldiers
152

THE OUTLET FROM LAKE RIMACHIUMA.

CRAMPED QUARTERS

were of very mixed blood, a sturdy lot and quite
pleasant characters ; nevertheless, they were excel
lent material, from which a fighting force could
be made that would give good account of itself
if well led.
I could not find out how many there were of us
all told ; some said seventy-five, others ninety-five ;
in any event, we could not have crowded more on
board, as there was practically no room to move
about as it was. At night things were worse than
by day, as the human animal takes up more room
lying down than he does standing up. Some
hammocks were slung as high as possible, so as to
allow other hammocks to be slung beneath them
again ; the rest of us were huddled on deck as best
we could, wedged in so tightly that when once
every one was in his proper place it was impossible
to get up without disturbing everybody. Those
whose ambitions soared to hammocks were the
first to retire, and those more humble, who occupied
the deck, were last. At six in the morning we got
up in the reverse order, and when the deck had
been cleared a table was let down from the roof
and secured to the deck ; upon it were served
the various meals, such as they were — rice, beans,
and bananas.
For two weary days we struggled against the
current, laboriously fighting our way inch by inch,
and keeping as close to the shore as practicable, so
as to avoid the swift current, which was usually
more pronounced in the middle of the river. Twice
we stopped for fuel, and once on signal from the
bank by a man whose wife had been bitten by a
snake and was in a dying condition. The captain
153

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
reluctantly handed out some remedy to the husband,
who came out in his canoe. We then continued
up-stream. I have often wondered what happened
to the woman.
At 5 p.m. on the second day, after a prolonged
period of stifling heat, a slight head- wind sprung
up that put new life into our wilting bodies. Being
at the mouth of the River Tigre, we ascended it
for a short distance, and made fast for the night,
ready to send a landing party on shore in the early
morning for firewood. In mid-stream we had
been spared the ravages of the mosquitoes, but now
that we were motionless close to the bank it meant
one more item to add to our long list of troubles.
It must be admitted that when once the first
spasm of delight produced by the sight of these
great waterways and the luxuriant vegetation
surrounding them has worn off it leaves an aching
void difficult to fill. The ever-present forest has
a depressing influence that is more pronounced
than that produced by the boundless snow-capped
peaks of the Sierra. Then, again, the average
settler is listless and lifeless, like the atmosphere he
lives in. The banks of the rivers give no impression
of permanency or solidity either ; they are shelving
mud, irregular, and for ever changing. Slides
continually take place, great trees whose roots
have been undermined sway and totter, then
finally crash earthward and get swept away by the
ravenous' swirl of waters which slowly but surely
have been bringing about their destruction.
|^In the flood season the water* is over the*Jbanks,
and|settlers — if there are any — must keep CtO; the
high ground, as huge areas are inundated for
154

TAKING ON FUEL

months at a time ; then comes the dry season
— more correctly called the " less wet season " —
the waters withdraw and the river drops rapidly,
sometimes as much as a foot a day. Navigation
becomes difficult, and the launches are apt to get
stuck in the mud. The would-be settler takes
advantage of the dry weather to clear a patch of
ground and plant his yucas or bananas, only to
have the next wet season come along, and likely
as not drown the whole place out, forcing him to
abandon his post or starve.
Fish in the river are plentiful, but in the flood
season hard to catch, even with nets. The water
brings down so much food that they are not tempted
by any doubtful bait, no matter how succulent a
morsel it may be. Thus life goes on, conditions
oscillating between two extremes, both bad, the
happy medium seldom lasting long. Is it to be
wondered at that beneath it all a strong under
current of depression and melancholy should be
found ?
The operation of hewing trees and splitting the
wood into suitable lengths for burning in the
furnaces occupied an entire morning ; twenty
men were engaged on the task. The two woods
usually selected are known as quintilla and
capirona ; the latter is the more common, and is
a singularly fine tree, with a long, slender, green
and chocolate trunk, usually free from parasitic
growth. In common with one or two others it
has the peculiarity of holding just sufficient moisture
to retard its rapid consumption in the fire-box, and
yet not enough to prevent its immediate use, as
would be the case with any other green wood. The
155

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
grain is straight and splits nicely with axe or
wedge. By way of diversion I tried my hand at fishing ;
two or three times I fancied a big fellow was on
the end of the line ; but after several hooks had
been lost in attempting to haul in the monster, I
discovered it was only a submerged log that I had
been angling for, which, when wriggling in the
current, put up a very fair imitation of a large fish.
I then changed my tactics, without any better
results ; innumerable small fry nibbled round the
bait, but they would not swallow it whole, as any
decent -minded fish should have done ; so I packed up
and devoted my attention to watching birds instead.
Our excursion up the Tigre river to Puerto
Fuentes, the Government outpost, and back to
the Maranon, occupied five days in all. It was a
pleasant experience, for the reason that the river
was in flood, and, the channel being fairly narrow,
we could see a good deal of the banks, and even get
an occasional glimpse of animal or bird life thereon.
Macaws and various parrots could be counted by
the hundreds any morning or evening, as they
flew overhead uttering their harsh cries ; grey
herons and graceful egrets were also plentiful,
and once in a while a solitary tapir, whom we would
come upon by surprise, would bolt off into the
brush. One evening interest was centred for a
few minutes on a party of monkeys as they went
swinging along from branch to branch, all following
exactly the same route, just as if some clearly
defined trail existed in the tree tops.
The Tigre is supposed to be fairly well settled,
but there were not many evidencesTof it.3! We
156 "' "^

A MILITARY OUTPOST

stopped at one small estate inhabited by a genial
old man who had eighty-two children to his credit,
all alive and well, according to report ; how many
wives he had no one knew, and the old fellow
himself seemed a little hazy on this point. If his
family were to be taken as a standard, the banks
of the Tigre would have been well populated
indeed, but outside of our few stopping places
signs of life were few and far between.
Puerto Fuentes was only a couple of well-built
shanties, where we dropped off five soldiers and
took four away, the fifth having died of fever
during his year's service. For curiosity's sake I
left a letter behind addressed to England, with
instructions that it should be forwarded to Iquitos
by the first canoe going down-stream after we left.
It reached its destination five months later, not
very rapid travelling, considering that this place
is not a remote spot by any means.
The names given by settlers to their little clearings
interested me not a little ; one in particular,
christened Berlin, I had cause to remember, as
the captain, who was very anti-English and always
ready to make himself objectionable, thought it
a good opportunity to say something for my
discomfiture. When the launch was secured to
the bank he came over, saying — " I suppose the
seHor wonders why this place is called Berlin ? "
" Not in the least," I answered promptly, " because
it is obvious ; it is the only place where we have seen
any swine " — and so it was, for the owner had quite
a large herd of pigs grubbing about close at hand.
The most appropriately named of all these places
was Esperanza, or " Hope " — just four posts and
157

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
a roof, in the centre of a small clearing ; two
banana trees, a few yuca plants, and the owner
completed the picture. I think it would have been
difficult to have found any other single word in
the English language that could have better described
the scene. Vista Alegre, or " Cheerful View,"
was the name of another doleful place, evidently
the home of an optimist.
Back once more in the Maranon, we pushed
up-stream late at night, with the stars shining
overhead and a clear horizon. The next morning
it was raining heavily ; for an hour we remained
stuck on a sand -bank, and then, as firewood was
running low, we stopped at five o'clock where
there was a fine group of capirona trees, to cut
our own supply. Instead of laying in a good stock
while we had the chance, we took on only enough
to last us four hours, and then set out again in the
hopes of getting more further on.
The evening proved fine, and the sky was a
remarkable sight ; on either side of us rose huge
battlements of blue-grey clouds, looking for all the
world like towering ranges of gigantic mountains ;
between these two awe-inspiring pillars the sun
sank into a well of crimson fire, beckoning us to
follow it into the peaceful land of dreams.
There were to be no dreams for us that night,
however ; when we again set out the clouds closed
like a vice, and we were overwhelmed in a blanket
of darkness which even a nearly full moon could
not penetrate. Soon the rain was falling, and the
wind blowing with such violence that the side
curtains of the upper deck could not be lowered
for fear of our capsizing. There was nothing to
158

A RAINY NIGHT

do but stand in the open and get well drenched,
till conditions became so bad that we were forced
to seek shelter along the bank. Here we waited
in patience for the storm to subside ; the side
curtains, meanwhile, had been hung up in place,
and we unfortunate passengers lay down on the
wet deck in the vain hope of sleeping.
Two hours had barely elapsed before the captain
was for making a move to the usual mythical place
— mas ariba (higher up) — where we would find
plenty of wood. The side curtains were conse
quently removed at the very moment when I had
gone to sleep, and I woke to find myself nearly
blown overboard. Without expressing my
feelings out loud, I spread my waterproof over
me and waited.
On we struggled against a fearful current. After
an hour we had not advanced a mile up-stream,
and our last stick of wood had been thrown into
the furnace. Now, there was the only alternative
of tying up for the night, and, as might be expected,
we ran on to the mud in trying to get near the
shore. In vain we tried to get off, but our last
ounce of steam was expended, and the crew were
well exhausted, so we gave up the attempt and
waited for morning.
Incomprehensible as it may seem, the night was
very cold ; it did not worry me very much, seeing
that I was fresh from the mountains, but the natives
found it almost unbearable, and went about huddled
up in blankets, or anything in the way of a covering
that they could possibly find. It seemed odd,
indeed, to feel chilly when only five degrees south
of the Equator. 159

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
When morning broke the bad judgment of
some one was painfully apparent; we were well
lodged on the mud, the fires were out, and the
nearest capirona tree was half a mile away. It
was the soldiers that came to the rescue ; one lot
stripped and got into the shallow water to shove
and haul, while another lot, remaining on board,
rushed simultaneously from one side of the launch
to the other, rocking it to and fro, till the combined
efforts of both caused us to edge off into deeper
water. A third party went up-stream in a canoe and
started felling trees and splitting the wood to the
right size for consumption in the boiler fire. A
small supply was then brought back which was
just sufficient to raise enough steam to take us up
river to where the men were at work. By two
o'clock a good stock of fuel had been laid in, and
we were off again against an ever-increasing current.
Some northern tributary must have been in
flood, as much debris was drifting down the stream,
and the high waters almost covered the naked
banks. Floods such as this, occurring in the
middle of the dry season, caused considerable
confusion in my mind, until I had a more complete
grasp of the climatic conditions all over this vast
country along the base of the Andes, where so many
affluents of the Amazon have their origin. If the
period of high water in all of these occurred
simultaneously, then large areas of forest country
would be inundated most of the year, if not
permanently. As it is, those coming down from
Ecuador from the north are high when the other
group of tributaries coming from Peru to the south
160

THE RAINY SEASONS

are low. It is obvious that if each of these two
groups carried the same amount of water, and if
their seasons were diametrically opposed, the flow
of water in the Amazon itself would be exactly
equalised all through the year, but Nature has
arranged it differently. The four months' dry
season in the northern group follows immediately
after the four months' dry season in the southern
group ; furthermore, the southern group carries
much more water than the northern group, with the
result that the Amazon does show a distinct low
water period.
The southern group, consisting of the Huallaga
and Ucayali, are inclined to be low in the months
of June, July, August, and September. The
northern group, consisting of the Morona, Pastaza,
Tigre, and Napo, experience low water in the
months of October, November, December, and
January. The time of the year when the river at
Iquitos is at its highest is between February and
May, and lowest between June and September.
Outside of these general variations mentioned, it
must be remembered that each tributary has its
own minor sub-variations peculiar to itself, and
other rivers, such as the Santiago, are liable to flood
at all seasons of the year.
From the foregoing remarks it will be evident
that there is much room for confusion, but, practically
speaking, if the traveller in any section of the river
country wants to be sure of the best weather con
ditions, it is well to avoid the months of February,
March, April, and May.
The continuation of our journey, as far as the
mouth of the Pastaza, proved a repetition of all

L

161

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the evils we had experienced to date, with the
exception that never once did we run aground ; the
river was high, and for a change navigation was easy.
One evening, after we had passed Tres Unidos,
we came upon an unusually interesting section
of the forest, in which almost every tree had been
snapped off about ten feet from the ground. It
was evidently the path of a colossal hurricane,
which had swept by not many days previously,
mowing down everything that stood in its way
like so much grass. One or two capirona trees
of great size had withstood the onslaught of the
tempest, and their graceful trunks were picturesquely
silhouetted against the crimson sky, surveying the
scene of destruction with peaceful calm.
As I stood up in the bow of the launch, viewing
the havoc wrought by the storm and the vast
expanse of forest which had been laid bare, I felt
very far away from every one and everything^-
everything except Nature, and she, of course, is
the persistent companion of anyone who travels.
She is not always an agreeable companion either ;
she can be beautiful, awe-inspiring, ferocious,
and restful, all within a very short time. This
evening, her lust for destruction satiated, she was
full of repose, and invited confidences.
On arriving at the mouth of the Pastaza we
continued past it for a mile or so to a hut on the
north bank called Patria. Here we unlashed the
lighter that retarded our progress, and put on shore
much of the cargo and all the soldiers who were
not bound for the Government outpost, Puerto
Alayza, at the juncture of the Huasaga and Pastaza
rivers . Relieved of all this unnecessary impedimenta
162

START UP THE PASTAZA

we went flying back down-stream once more to
the mouth of the Pastaza, and started on our
journey up it. For three hours we oscillated from
side to side of the east channel, getting off one
sand-bar, only to get stuck on another. Finally,
we gave it up and returned to the Maranon, where
we essayed the west channel instead, which proved
more satisfactory. It was 6 p.m. when we made
our new start, but in half an hour we were once
more on the mud and unable to get off until the
moon rose and threw a little light on the scene.
The Pastaza is a shallow river at the best of
times, especially in its lower reaches, where it is
splayed out over a wide and rambling course with
sundry brazos, or arms, branching away from it,
and joining up with the main channel again many
miles further on. We followed one of these for
almost two days into a small lagoon, which was the
main outlet from a very large lake known as
Rimachiuma. On our return we spent some little
time here exploring the labyrinth of canals and
back channels which twisted through the forest in
all directions without rhyme or reason.
A tribe of Indians, known as Muratos, occupy
this section of the country, and I was lucky to come
in contact with a number of them. I will, however,
speak of their customs later on, when the subject
of savages is dealt with in more detail. It was
they who had the saying concerning the white
man coming with wings, so they were particularly
interesting to me. Amongst other things we came
across some very curious remains during our
explorations, which would, no doubt, be worth
independent study at a future date.
163

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
The navigation of these side channels was
extremely agreeable, as the water was clean and
deep, but back in the main river progress once
more became very precarious.
Since leaving Iquitos rice and beans — with an
occasional slab of dried fish — had been our only
food ; a welcome change was now in store for
us, distributed over the wide sand-bars that
reverberated in the heat of the noonday sun.
These miniature Saharas were covered with the
tracks of turtles, who, most indiscreetly, had chosen
the previous night of all nights to leave the river
and lay their eggs in the soft sand. It was an
opportunity that hungry humans were not going
to let slip, and we made a raid on the nests, collecting
eggs by the thousand, till the deck of the launch was
fairly littered with them.
Yet another acceptable and unexpected addition
to our larder was a small brown deer, which was
caught alive whilst swimming across the river-
With good tender meat for a couple of days, and
as many tasty turtles' eggs as we could eat, our
appetites for once in a way were well satisfied. Not
so that of the boiler fire ; there seemed no end to
the amount of fuel it could consume. As often as
twice a day we would send a party on shore to hack
and hew at the unfortunate capirona trees to be
stuffed into its rapacious maw.
I took advantage on these occasions to make
little excursions on shore ; the forest was not
always very dense, but for all that one had to be
careful not to get too far afield for fear of getting
lost, an easy matter even with a compass. On one
of these walks I was standing motionless, watching
164

LIFE AT AN OUTPOST

some butterflies, when an armadillo came scrambling
along through the brush straight towards me. He
was a funny-looking fellow — great, bat-like ears
and a squarish snout ; he came close up, and as I
was about to make a grab for him, I accidentally
sneezed violently and he was off like lightning.
These animals are reputed to be very blind, but
evidently it does not prevent their running very fast.
The garrison at Puerto Alayza had suffered a
few casualties during the year as the result of
accidents, but it was a healthy climate, and fever
had not taken its toll as it was apt to do in some of
the other stations. It was not always sickness
that the soldiers dreaded most ; Indians sometimes
were more to be feared. On the Morona river
some years back they had sprung a surprise attack
on the garrison, which had been entirely wiped
out, with the exception of one man, who got away
down river bearing news of the disaster. Not
infrequently the men told off for the monotonous
life of outpost duty set out with some enthusiasm
at the prospect of developing the station and doing
a little in the way of agriculture, but their ardour
does not always endure. After the launch has
left, some one suddenly discovers that several
important implements have been left behind, and
as these cannot be secured until the next year when
the launch returns, none of the ground is cleared
or planted, as was originally intended, and the men
return to Iquitos at the end of their period of
enforced idleness completely demoralised.
The night before we started back to the Maranon
was one of the worst which we put in during the
entire voyage. It was the old story of mosquitoes,
165

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
who were the bane of our existence. During the
afternoon a steady downpour had set in, which
did not let up till sixl; then every suggestion of a
breeze subsided, and the suffocating heat returned,
bringing swarms of mosquitoes with teeth ready-
sharpened for the fray. I sought cover under my
net without delay, perspiring freely, but out of
reach of their venomous bites. Others less
fortunate were eaten alive ; no one slept, and even
I could not do so soundly, by reason of the heat and
the noises going on about me.
At three my cramped position became unbearable,
and thinking it safe I got up to stretch outside the
net. Immediately I was set upon, and quickly
crawled back to safety, only to have some of the
more enterprising mosquitoes follow me, and the
rest of the night was spent in trying to catch them.
With the first ray of dawn the enemy, having
feasted well on our blood, vanished into the dark
recesses of the forest, and we unfortunate mortals,
complaining vehemently, sought such consolation
as we could find in a cup of filthy black coffee and
a dried banana.
The captain must have put in a bad night, like
the rest of us, as we set out on our return down
stream with reckless abandon. Within an hour
we had run aground twice, nearly upsetting each
time, then we crashed into the trees on the bank,
bringing down millions of black ants on our deck,
which were the devil to get rid of. Clear of the
branches, we went sliding and skating at full speed
over logs, sand, and mud, oscillating and swaying to
and fro in away that foretold disaster sooner or later.
At noon we were not only firmly aground, but
166

MURATO INDIANS

across the current, with the sand piling up alongside
of us till the water on the up-stream side was only
a matter of inches deep. So alarmed were we at
the prospect of remaining there a month or two,
that every one got into the water and worked
frantically to free us from the sand, that before
long would have turned us completely over on our
side. It was a successful effort on our part, lasting
four hours, which put our 42 h. p. engine to shame.
My only concern was that the captain should get
over-confident of our prowess, and land us in a
still worse predicament later on ; to the great
relief of every one, his ardour cooled off and we
proceeded more cautiously.
Our passage back through the narrow canals
leading by Lake Rimachiuma left an indelible
impression on my memory, and a strong desire
to return some day in the future to see more of the
place and the Murato Indians who lived there.
They seemed a friendly and cheerful lot of people,
healthy, and expert hunters, both with the spear and
blow-gun. All the spears were provided with
hardwood points that could penetrate pretty well
anything, but one man had a metal point of which
he was very proud. To me it looked like some
ancient weapon that might have been taken from
the early Spaniards and handed down from
generation to generation.
Although I was beginning to get impatient to
start on the real part of my journey, I was sorry
when this particular section of the trip had been
left behind. We passed out along the last canal
late one afternoon — tall trees, close up to the water's
edge, forming a veritable canon of foliage, which
167

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
in places was matted, twisted, and entwined into
an almost solid mass of green. Between these
walls we moved without effort or hindrance of any
kind ; the exotic perfumes of the forest broke upon
us in periodic waves that charmed the senses to
the point of intoxication. A few small monkeys
cut capers in the tree tops as if for our special
edification, the channel being so narrow that we
could take in every detail of their movements, and
even distinguish the plumage of occasional birds
resting in the branches of the more conspicuous
trees. At one of the bends a small clean bar of white
sand suggested an enchanted glen, where the
fairies of the forest might come to dance in the
moonlight ; but what was that mark, as if a log of
wood had been drawn across it ? — a revolting
shudder ran down my spine at the thought of it —
the track of the anaconda, that repulsive reptile of
the swamps, was unmistakable, and hinted at the
terrible aspect of life which lurked beneath such
beautiful surroundings.
When we got back to the Maranon and scanned
its green waters I could hardly believe it was the
same river ; the heart seemed to have gone out of
it. No longer in flood, it was displaying ungainly
muddy banks, strewn with debris ; the current
was lifeless, and as we swerved round into it and
pushed our nose up-stream, it offered very little
opposition to our progress.
At Patria we secured the lighter alongside once
more, took on our full cargo, likewise the soldiers,
whom we had left to fend for themselves during
our absence, and set out for Barranca, where I
168

A CLOSE CALL

was looking forward to arrange other means of
transporting me further westward to the great
barrier — the Pongo de Manseriche.
Three hours' steaming brought us to San Lorenzo,
a prosperous looking settlement on a large bend of
the river. We stopped a mile beyond it, where
one Sr. Agusto Morales had his chacra, and,
amongst other things, two thousand sticks of fire
wood piled up neatly waiting our pleasure.
When all this load had been stowed away on
board the launch the skipper gave a final demonstra
tion of his supreme ignorance in handling river
craft. A storm was coming up, we were heavily
loaded, the river was low, the practico, or pilot, was
not conversant with the channel, and it was black
as Egypt's night. The combination did not daunt
our gallant commander, and within a short time
we came to a full stop, with a sudden jar that
sent everything on deck flying. This time it was
not mud or sand, but solid rock, upon which we
were firmly lodged. There was no rest for anyone
that night ; the river was dropping, and unless we
got free before it sank much lower the launch
might have been completely wrecked.
In the dim light of a few lanterns and in a dripping
rain we transferred the cargo on shore ; after this,
the firewood, which it had just taken us over an
hour to take on, had all to be put off again, every
thing being transported to the bank by means of
one solitary canoe. When this had been accom
plished the lighter was cast adrift so that the
launch would be as buoyant as possible. Every
thing ready, we went full steam astern, backed off,
and slid gracefully on to a mud bank, which meant
169

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
another hour's work before we were free to move
again. By this time the moon had risen, wood and cargo
were all laboriously returned to the launch, and
we continued on our way up-stream. In four
hours we were moored safely at our destination,
Barranca, under the lee of a high bank, and I was
at liberty to go on shore whenever it suited me.

170

CHAPTER IX
A shrill whistle of farewell reverberated through
the morning air as the Government launch Cahua
panas slowly disappeared from view round a bend
in the river, leaving me a solitary figure on the
muddy banks of the Maranon, to continue my
journey westward as best I could.
So far so good. I was at Barranca, three hundred
miles nearer the Pacific coast than I had been
eighteen and a half days ago when I set out from
Iquitos, but there were still five hundred long miles
to go. What concerned me at the moment was not
the five hundred miles so much as the exact where
abouts of Barranca itself, which I had been given to
understand was a large place, where a canoe could
be chartered to carry me still further forward into
the unknown.
From my elevated position no suggestion of a
habitation showed itself amongst the low bushes
or dense forest that stretched away indefinitely
as far asj the eye could see. The six soldiers who
landed )ivith me had long since been spirited off
into the jungle by their friends who came to meet
them, and it therefore behoved me, if I did not want
to lose too much time, to shoulder one of my own
bundles and follow the path they had taken.
Ten minutes' walk brought me to some high
171

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
ground, and there, in the centre of a very extensive
clearing, was a group of houses. The nearest
was larger than the rest and stood apart by itself ;
in front the owner sat enjoying his early coffee.
" Good morning, senor" I said, plunging into
conversation. " Can you tell me the name of this
beautiful place ? " and I waved my hand towards
the row of huts as if it were some new tree I was
enquiring about.
He looked rather surprised, but replied politely
that it was the great and important settlement
of Barranca, and then added hesitatingly, " The
senor is German ? "
" No, fortunately not," I answered. " I am
English, and I would like to get men and a canoe
to take me up river." Remembering a letter
given me by my friend Colonel Soyer, I fumbled
in my pocket for it and handed it to the stranger,
so as to avoid further embarrassing questions.
The document set forth the objects of my journey
in eloquent Spanish, and called upon all good
Peruvians to assist me in every way possible.
Having read it through carefully he handed it
back, duly impressed, exclaiming, " Caramba !
that will indeed be a difficult journey." He then
got up, shook hands, and introduced himself —
" Eraclito Mufioz, at your service, senor. Maybe
I can help you ; please do me the favour to take a
seat." This sounded like business, so I sat down
while Don Eraclito gulped off his remaining
coffee, and looked up into space, as if seeking
inspiration from the white clouds that drifted by.
He remained in silence for some minutes, till
I remarked that price was of no great consequence
172

A MAN WITH BRAINS

so long as arrangements could be made promptly ;
the sooner I left, the more I would be willing to
pay. This evidently threw a new light on the
subject, for within half an hour satisfactory terms
had been arranged, Don Eraclito himself agreeing
to accompany me all the way to Bellavista, provide
the canoe, and three bogas to handle it.
I derived considerable satisfaction from my
preliminary dealings with this man ; he acted as
one who was conscious of being alive and having
a head on his shoulders. We were to leave in
two days' time, and meanwhile his house was to
be my house. It all seemed too good to be true.
He even knew the Pongo de Manseriche well, to
say nothing of being thoroughly conversant with
the language of the various Indians whom we would
fall in with.
Since the matter was now disposed of in such an
eminently satisfactory manner, there remained
nothing for me to worry about. I collected my
belongings from the river bank, and leisurely
unpacked everything for minute inspection. My
cameras needed careful overhauling, and my stock
of provisions had to be examined to see that they
had not suffered any damage during the past weeks.
Unfortunately, all the rice had fermented and was
useless ; several tins of meat were broken and had
to be discarded ; moisture had soaked through
into my clothing, covering it with mildew, which
had all to be washed off, resulting in every minute
of my time being fully occupied.
Comment has already been made on the fact
that Barranca stood some distance away from the
river ; this was not the original intention of those
173

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
who built it, but the result of a little freak on the
part of the river ; one day it had decided to change
its course, and consequently left the village behind.
Such things are constantly happening in this
strange country, where such a word as " permanent "
is unknown. Barranca had just reason to be
pleased that the river had not moved in the opposite
direction, as when once the green waters decide to
move a certain way nothing will stop them. What with
the forest for ever encroaching in the rear, and the
river eating away the land in front, the life of a poor
settler on the banks is, to say the least, precarious.
I had no desire to revert to the life on board the
Cahuapanas, which, in the end, had been made
very pleasant, thanks to the engineer, Lieut. Alfredo
Rivarola, and Col. J. Ignacio Tuccio, who was in
charge of the troops. In spite of the discomfort
of being crowded on deck like so many cattle, I
have always felt very grateful to Col. Soyer,
who arranged the trip for me ; I had seen some
extraordinary sights and witnessed a phase of
Amazon life which it is not every one's privilege
to come in contact with.
For the time being the past was passed, and I
lived in anticipation of a new chapter of experiences
which was to come. Camp life had always the
greatest fascination for me, especially when the
weather was good, and there were prospects of
seeing something new and interesting. To pene
trate a little-known part of the world where lived
a tribe of Indians who resented the intrusion of
white men was surely something to look forward
to, and I had every reason to be thankful for the
satisfactory turn events had taken.
174

A FINAL CELEBRATION

Two good nights' rest in Don Eraclito 's house,
undisturbed by the close proximity of many
hammocks, put me in fine fettle for the journey.
The very morning of our departure the gobenador
— a man about six feet tall and as thin as a piece
of string — seemed anxious to create difficulties ;
just why I could not understand, unless I had
been guilty of some breach of etiquette which had
ruffled his feathers. A personal visit smoothed
things over nicely. Evidently the invaluable papers
prepared by Col. Soyer and bearing the seal of
the Peruvian Government carried weight, for
whatever the trouble was it soon disappeared, and
a capita all round put everybody in an amicable
frame of mind.
As a final celebration we went to the military
garrison, where we were banqueted by M. Abelado
Frias y Valle, a young man in command of the post,
who was putting in his term of military service far
away from his native town of Lima, where all his
family lived. He seemed to think I would have
many spare moments during my journey, and
insisted on my taking a Spanish edition of " The
Hound of the Baskervilles," by Conan Doyle, to
read. I did not refuse it, but I laughed to myself
at the very thought of having nothing to do ; little
did I realise that it was to be the only thing that
stood between me and madness during some of
the long days that were to come, and that before I
got back to civilisation I would have read it through
from cover to cover fifteen times.
At 3.20 a small group of men had collected at
the edge of the river to bid us farewell. Don
Eraclito and myself, with the three bogas, boarded
175

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the short but rather wide canoe awaiting us, and after
many healths had been drunk the journey began.
We dilly-dallied all the way up to Estrella. Talk
— the result of excessive feasting — seemed to come
more easily than work ; in consequence, the men
never got down to real business till the following
day, when the effect of their indiscretion had
worn itself out.
Estrella is a small habitation occupied by a man
called Juan J. Vasquez, and I was particularly
fortunate to find that he had returned from the
expedition which Marco Morey had told me about
on board the launch Adolfo. The party had
travelled up a branch of the River Potro called
Aycha Yacu, or " meat river," for six days in their
canoe and two days on foot, but as the Indians
did not prove friendly, they decided to abandon
the project, and send another expedition —
" mahana " — up the Rio Cahuapanas. Morey, who
was supposed to be in charge of the expedition,
directed it in comfort from San Lorenzo, a settle
ment which we had passed the evening before
reaching Barranca.
Since leaving Iquitos the banks of the Maranon
had been composed of nothing but mud. Below
Barranca they had shown signs of a more solid
texture, and were inclined to be vertical rather
than sloping. Here, at Estrella, I saw fine gravel-
bars for the first time, which indicated that the
character of the river was about to change.
After supper I chatted with my host, and plied
him with all manner of questions concerning the
Pongo, as I had been told he was a veritable well
of information. If so, he was not a very deep one,
176

A SMALL SETTLEMENT AND A BIG TREE.

A FUNERAL FOR ENTERTAINMENT
because I was unable to get any data from him
whatsoever. A little air of gaiety prevailed during the evening,
by reason of a funeral ceremony which was in
full swing, over the corpse of some unfortunate
individual who had been drowned in the river.
In places such as this there are no distractions of
any kind, and the community is not sufficiently
large to provide funerals very often by way of
entertainment ; hence, when they do occur, it is
quite an event. The festivities were only partici
pated in by the women and one man, who assumed
the role of priest for the occasion. The ceremony
lasted till three o'clock in the morning, and seemed
to afford much enjoyment to all those who took
part in it. I slept out of doors in the fresh air, so
as not to be disturbed by the noisy demonstrations
of the mourners.
With the prospect of further liquid refreshment,
it was no easy task to get my men on the move
again the following morning. When we did finally
pull away from the shore, at the late hour of
9.30 a.m., I had the satisfaction of knowing that
but for one habitation at Limon we would not see
any more settlers till we set foot in Bellavista, two
hundred and fifty miles away. The day passed
off uneventfully ; at four o'clock we were opposite
the east mouth of the Rio Potro. There is an island
here forming a delta, but the west channel is very
small and might easily be passed by unnoticed.
The evening was well advanced before we pitched
our camp after a strenuous day. The small sand
flies had been unusually plentiful, and although we
were relieved of their company at six o'clock, it
m 177

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
was only to leave the coast clear for their more
venomous allies, the mosquitoes, who launched
their attack at 6.30 sharp. I smeared myself with
vaseline in a futile attempt to ward them off, but
it was of no avail, and I sought refuge under my
net before the evening meal had been prepared.
Comfortably installed and divested of my clothes,
I lay down — hungry, to be sure, but in peace, while
clouds of insects shrieked outside in disappointment.
Travelling without a net would be impossible to
the ordinary mortal ; it is the most important item
s»f one's baggage, as essential as food itself. It
should be a fine mesh for preference, or, better still,
a semi-transparent fabric, as that will keep off the
minute flies during the day, which bite viciously
and pass through ordinary netting like an open
window. The dew precipitated in the early hours of the
morning was phenomenal, making it quite impos
sible to keep our belongings dry. The only
remedy was to break camp early at 5 a.m., and
stop for breakfast after three hours' work, spreading
the most important things out in the sun, if it were
shining. Anything that would not dry out was
dumped back in the canoe, and had to take its chance
as best it could during the day. The camera and
films were protected from the rain with several
coverings of palm leaves woven together into a
solid mat. This had the additional advantage
of keeping things cool underneath it, no matter
how hot the sun was overhead.
The mouth of the Morona was passed safely. It
is a fine river, flowing down from the north in a
well-defined manner, with a more healthy and more
178

SQUIRMING ALONG THE BANKS
interesting look about it than any I had yet seen.
Had time been no object nothing would have pleased
me better than to have made a side trip up it.
Like yesterday, we had to persistently fight
our way against the current, which in some places
was so powerful that I had to assist the men by
working vigorously myself ; however, by sneaking
along close to the shore and skirting round sand
bars, we managed to make our way ahead slowly
but surely. Don Eraclito was the only one who
did not work ; he sat complacently in the stern,
and discoursed at length on general topics for
the edification of all of us.
The early mornings were generally overcast,
but by noon the sun would be shining with full
vigour. In the intense heat we would navigate
around innumerable pieces of semi-submerged
timbers, a swift current not only impeding our
progress, but putting us in imminent peril of
capsizing. Flocks of small bats, disturbed from their daily
slumbers by our passage, flitted about in a dazed
way, and the usual clouds of beautiful butterflies
revelled in the sultry atmosphere which rose like
steam from the baking mud. In the evening
the unending roar of the howling monkey came
from afar off in the woods, as if all the lions in
Africa had been let loose and were preparing for
a feed on human flesh. Fortunately, the bite
of this denizen of the forest is not as bad as his
bark, otherwise it might not have gone well with
us. For so small and inoffensive an animal he
certainly makes a terrific din.
At night we were frequently treated to the
179

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
blood-curdling serenade of jaguars, but they never
came close enough to our camp to be troublesome.
Had they done so I had a useful .303 rifle and a
revolver always handy.
The few occasions on which either of these
weapons were ever used hardly justified the trouble
of carrying them. Later on, when they might
have been serviceable, they had gone down to the
bottom of the river in a whirlpool, and were there
fore not available. A much more useful weapon
was carried by the bogas in the shape of an antique
muzzle-loading shot-gun, and with it they brought
down many birds during the daytime that went
into the pot for our evening meal. The best
all-round weapon for this part of the world is
probably a 16-bore shot-gun.
Food was an all-important question. I carried
with me a small quantity of tinned goods as
emergency rations, but our party depended chiefly
on a supply of yucas and bananas, which, when
exhausted, could not be replenished ; consequently,
we were always on the look-out for something to
re-stock our larder. Turtles and turtles' eggs
were obtained in profusion, and on these we largely
subsisted. Every sand-bar was scanned very care
fully for traces of these animals, and one, which
I recall very vividly, was raided with great success,
providing almost 2,000 eggs in just over two
hours. These we salted down in the canoe, and
they lasted the five of us nine days before showing
signs of going bad. They were generally boiled
or made into a sort of pancake — a true omelet
was not possible, as the yolk and white would never
mix. The way I enjoyed them most was baked
180

COLLECTING TURTLES' EGGS ON A SAND-BAR.

A TRAGEDY IN THE ANIMAL WORLD
in the embers of a fire until the tough, parchment
like shell and contents were quite crisp.
Two varieties of turtle were encountered, known
locally as the Charapa and the Taracaya. The
former is over two feet across when fully grown
and lays a large round egg, while the latter is small
and lays a perfectly oval egg, 50 to 60 in a nest.
The charapa lays 100 to 120.
The life of the turtle and its struggle for existence
is typical of the many tragedies that abound in the
Amazon country. When the river is low, exposing
large areas of soft white sand, Mrs. Turtle decides
to lay some eggs. She comes out of the water at
night, and if a hungry jaguar is not at hand waiting
to pounce on her, she deposits her eggs in the sand,
covers them up, and crawls back to the water
thoroughly satisfied with her night's work.
The next morning, before the sun and wind
have obliterated her tracks, an Indian comes
along, or else some half-caste ; seeing the marks
in the sand, he lands, locates the nest, and promptly
removes all the eggs for his own consumption.
If by chance they should remain undiscovered
by man or beast, and the young ones do hatch
out, they have to make a pretty good run for the
water to get there without being set upon by birds
or other animals. Out of a hundred eggs laid it is
doubtful whether two ever reach maturity.
Another of Life's tragedies — to be seen every
where, but not always appreciated — is the case of
those forest trees covered with graceful vines and
parasitic growths. How beautiful they look to
the human eye festooned and draped with luxurious
vegetation, yet in reality it is but a murderer's
181

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
cloak, as the finest tree must succumb in the end
to the constant drain the parasite makes on its
vitality. Many times I have seen a tree attacked
not only this way in its branches, but by the river
about its roots ; such a tree is doubly doomed,
for if the parasite fails the river will not, and the
day will come when it will fall and be carried off
bodily by the first flood, just as sure as the sun sets.
Our progress westward continued very slowly.
It was only by making very early starts and camping
late that we were able to make any headway at all.
No signs of man were there in any shape or form
until we reached Limon, and then only a small
shanty on the north bank inhabited by Hector
Melendez. We went on shore to look round, and
were treated to a good lunch before continuing
on our way.
The place is quite picturesque, there being a
large island in the centre of the river. Gravel is
not only found in the form oi play as, but constitutes
the major portion of the banks themselves, which
are high and solid ; in some places it has been
deposited on the top of wood and debris brought
down centuries ago, compressing it into a soft
black substance, which can be cut easily with a
knife and makes excellent fuel. Another peculiarity
which I first noticed in this part of the river was
the occurrence of gravel cemented together into a
solid mass of conglomerate.
After leaving Limon we kept going pretty
steadily for five hours, stopping occasionally to
take a shot at a tucan or paujil, if ever we were
lucky enough to see one. By evening we had
reached the big bend of the river where it sweeps
182

ON FOOT FOR A CHANGE

round to the northward. There was an enormous
playa at this point on which we camped, and from
it we saw with great distinctness the most easterly
ridge of the Andes, standing out clear and sharp
against the western sky.
Every day now brought marked changes in
our surroundings : the gravel became more and
more coarse, sand-bars were the exception rather
than the rule, and in many places extensive areas
were covered to a depth of five to ten feet with
logs, jammed up together so as to form a solid
mass. On the whole, the main channel was fairly
free from obstructions, but there were places
occasionally along the bank which taxed the utmost
of our skill to get by.
It may seem a little odd to say that there was
plenty of walking for those who cared to indulge
in it ; nevertheless it was quite true, and some
days I spent most of the time on foot. The river
was very low indeed, exposing huge playas of
gravel, over which I walked, while the bogas
towed the canoe through shallow water. These
gravel-bars usually occurred on the inside of the
bends, so at every corner it would be necessary
to get into the canoe, cross over to the opposite
shore, and then start out on another excursion on
foot up to the next bend. Our course varied
anywhere between west, north, and east, and was
very tortuous, but I enjoyed the walking immensely
in spite of the terrific heat. The gravel was much
too hot to go without shoes ; even the shallow
pools of water were no better, and the first time
I splashed into one with bare feet I soon jumped
out again. 183

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
Whenever we saw sand it would be covered with
tracks of animals — tapir, ronsocos, and various
members of the cat tribe. In spite of all these
indications I hardly^ ever saw an animal during
the daytime, and only once did I get a shot at one.
It happened to be in the early morning when this
last diversion occurred, in the shape of a tapir
hunt, which resulted unfavourably for the tapir,
who dropped with a bullet in his head. The first
shot landed above the shoulder, and I thought
we had lost him, but he broke cover a second time,
and so gave an opportunity for another round.
It was an old animal of great size and covered
with layers of fat. Three hours were occupied
in cutting it up, and we had to camp early that
same evening in order to smoke the meat for future
consumption. It was decidedly tough, but in
comparison to tucan or parrots was as tender as
Iamb. A large, gaudy macaw fell a victim to the
shot-gun of the bogas — yellow breast, blue and
green back, and with a remarkably long tail. It
seemed a pity to have to kill such a beautiful
creature, especially as the carcase was too tough to
eat, and the only nourishment to be derived from
it was in the form of soup.
Don Eraclito 's ignorance of the surrounding
country led to my asking him how much of it he
really did know. He tried to avoid the issue,
but after pressing the point he admitted never
having been beyond Estrella in his life. On top
of this admission I made a further discovery,
namely, that we would not travel all the way to
Bellavista in our present canoe, but would charter
another one from the Indians at the foot of the
184

A LAZY FELLOW

Pongo and replace the present bogas with Aguaruna
Indians, and so proceed in relays to our destination.
This was all very disquieting, for had Don
Eraclito 's physical energy corresponded with his
mental ability, I would have had no cause to
worry ; but, alas ! he never bestirred himself in
the slightest, ate much, and needed more looking
after than every one else put together. The pros
pects of continuing a difficult journey which would
demand considerable physical endurance were not
altogether reassuring with such a man in the party.
He endeavoured to smooth things over tem
porarily by saying that one of the bogas, Mufioz,
was his half-brother, and he at any rate would go
all the way with us, and would be of great assistance,
since he had made a perilous descent of the river
from Bellavista on a raft some years ago, and
therefore knew something about the country.
Whether his knowledge was worth the price of
carrying along an indolent although pleasant com
panion was not so certain. If he had worked more
and sung less it would not have been so bad,
but perched up in the stern of the canoe he sang
his favourite melody over and over again. It
was a doleful lay about a rubber gatherer whose
only food was a toasted banana, and ended up
with the refrain that he was alone in the world,
and spent his life like a bird in the sky.
Our last camp before arriving at the Pongo
was an extremely pleasant spot on an island, one
of a regular archipelago which occurred in this
part of the river. The hills through which the
Maranon had worn its way now appeared quite
close, and encouraged me with the thought that
185

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
yet another stage of my journey was rapidly coming
to an end.
We broke camp very early that morning and
worked hard all day. At one moment skirting
a gravel-bar, then poling our way amongst a
forest of submerged timbers, at another going
hell for leather against a swift current that surged
round a promontory, or else paddling for dear
life to the opposite shore, so as to avoid the strong
current and deep channel usually found on the
outside edge of a bend.
Late in the afternoon, when we were heading
due west well into the mouth of the Pongo, with
only a few miles left to go, a sharp whistle made
us all turn round with a start. Our astonishment
knew no bounds, for there, in full view, was a
launch chugging laboriously up-stream. I sig
nalled to it, and drifted alongside to see if I could
persuade the captain to tow us the remaining
distance. It turned out to be a most happy idea,
since the owner, Sr. Otoniel Vela, of Iquitos,
was on board, and welcomed me with the utmost
cordiality and friendliness. Before I could make
any suggestions whatsoever, he gave orders to
have my gear transferred to the deck of his launch
and the canoe tied up astern.
It was certainly a stroke of good fortune, for I
was able to study the approach to this barrier
under much better circumstances than I could
have done otherwise. The launch was forced
to keep in mid-stream, where the water was deep,
and our progress against the swift current was
extremely slow ; but what a magnificent sight
it was as we approached this range of hills through
186

ARRIVAL AT THE GREAT BARRIER
which the Maranon rushes ! High, wooded slopes
rose up before us, first on one side, then on the
other, as the river swerved from right to left. It
is not straight, as indicated on Raimondi's map J
both the Pongo and the river immediately below
it are as tortuous as they possibly can be. The
banks soon became high and steep, piled up with
loose water- worn boulders, or else masses of solid
rock polished and scoured clean.
We reached the base of the hills at 6.30, the
men going on shore, while I remained on board
the launch for the night. I sat up late talking
with Sr. Vela, since he expected to return the
next day. He told me that his object in coming
to such an out-of-the-way place was to procure
limestone, of which there was an unlimited supply
lying about in the form of loose boulders. It
was for building purposes at Iquitos, and he hoped
some day to establish a kiln at the Pongo, where
he could make all the lime he required without
having to import it from abroad, as heretofore.
At night there was a very marked drop in tem
perature, and I lay out on deck, with a cool wind
blowing over me that had none of the moisture-
depositing qualities of the breezes lower down
stream. Another still more important change, and
one greatly to be marvelled at, was the complete
absence of mosquitoes.
Almost every one, at some time or another,
has picked up a map of the South American con
tinent and traced out the course of the River
Amazon as shown upon it, wondering at the same
time what this or that part of it was really like.
I have done so myself frequently, and for some
187

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
inexplicable reason that point where it breaks
through the last ridge of the Andes, before
debouching on the Amazon plains, always had
a strange fascination for me. I had pictured it
in my mind's eye as something entirely different
from what it actually proved to be ; yet now, as I
stood on the very spot I had thought of and dreamt
about so much, I was not disappointed in what
I saw. Half a century ago there had been a small but
flourishing settlement called Borja on the north
bank ; it had a chequered history, and was finally
rendered so unhealthy by reason of the warlike
tribes of Indians nearby that, except for the name,
which still persists on many maps, it has fallen
into an abyss of forgetfulness and disappeared.
On the opposite shore a more recent attempt was
made by the Peruvian Government to establish
a military post called Puerto Melendez, but it also
shared the same fate, and was abandoned.
For many reasons the Pongo de Manseriche
is interesting ; the shallow but cool westerly wind
which blows most of the day, and the complete
absence of mosquitoes during the night, make it
quite a healthy and invigorating place to live, yet
the settlers stand in such dread of the savage tribes
that not a single one can be found near it. Roughly,
it is 2,500 miles from the mouth of the Amazon and
at an elevation of 600 feet above the level of the
sea. This means that the average fall of the river
is actually less than three inches per mile. The
source of the Amazon is some 500 miles further
on, away up in the Andes to the southward, and
the Pacific coast is not more than 300 miles away
188

THE PONGO DE MANSERICHE
in a straight line to the south-west. The ridge
of hills, through which the river has here carved
its way, forms part of the great Andean chain,
but it is considerably detached from the main
series, and is of no great elevation — probably not
more that 2,000 feet above the surrounding country.
The slopes are well wooded from top to bottom,
and have not the bare summits characteristic of the
higher altitudes'.
The country rock consists of alternate layers
of limestone and sandstone, tilted up at an angle
of 60 ° and running at right angles to the course
of the river, which is more or less east and west.
This curious stratification is responsible for the
treacherous currents and eddies which get set
up in the Pongo and render the passage of it so
dangerous. The texture of the sandstone being
comparatively soft, it has been very much eroded
by the water, leaving the hard limestone projecting
out into the stream in a series of buttresses. Back
of these are large shifting whirlpools — a menace
to any light canoe that may venture near them —
and around the rocky promontories the foaming
waters surge and hiss with varying fury. Of
obstructions in the centre of the channel there
is but one solitary rock half-way through the gorge,
and it is only exposed to view when the water is
very low. In width the canon varies from several
hundreds of feet across to approximately one
hundred and fifty feet in some of the narrower
parts towards the lower end. The walls also vary
considerably ; they are seldom vertical faces of
rock, as is generally imagined, but abrupt slopes
covered with trees to within twenty feet of the
189

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
water's edge ; in half a dozen places there are
limestone cliffs forty to fifty feet high, but not
much more. In length I estimated it to be in
the neighbourhood of three and a half miles,
although, like other dimensions, this can only
be taken as approximate, since I had no means
for making exact measurements, even had I wanted
to. Several mountain torrents empty their waters
into it on either bank — one in particular on the
south shore, towards the top end, being of quite
a good size.
Approaching the foot of the Pongo by river
the hills rise up abruptly like a great wall, and
out of this the waters come swirling along round
a sharp bend, as if from the very bowels of the
earth. On my arrival the river was low, yet it
gave forth an incessant booming that could be
heard a long distance away. The pitch of the
note varied with the volume of water that was
sluicing through the gorge. In times of flood,
when great trees and branches would come crashing
along on the foaming mass, it would rise to a regular
shriek, and then, as the water subsided, the note
would become low and musical again.
It was not surprising that the place was regarded
as an impassable barrier, beyond which existed all
the evils known to man. The frowning hills,
scarred rocks, and seething waters were all calcu
lated to make one hesitate and think twice before
venturing near it. To anyone who was determined
to see what lay beyond, the thought of defeating
such an obstacle was irresistibly attractive.
Don Eraclito did not share my sentiments ;
he took a more serious view, and had no wish to
190

.

1

j^^^^^.
^""^^^R** Mr ™ ¦
'
:_
APPROACHING THE PONGO DE MANSERICHE.
OUR NUMBERS THIN OUT
t 
face battle in the whirlpools if he could avoid it.
For several days past he had been talking a good
deal about hardships, dangers, etc., and now a man
on the launch told him of some one who had
recently been murdered by the Indians ; this
was the last straw. With such stories in his mind
and the shriek of the rising waters in his ears, he
approached me with the usual run of excuses. He
had a wife and family, and had been away from
them such a long time, so would I allow him to
go back on the launch Meteor if his half-brother,
Mufioz, would take his place ? It amused me
immensely to hear him ; evidently he did not
realise he had a wife and family when he set out ;
presumably it takes savages and whirlpools to
make some people alive to their responsibilities.
I accepted his withdrawal with the usual outward
expressions of regret, but in reality was very glad
indeed not to be saddled with his company any
further, and thanked Sr. Vela profusely for taking
him off my hands.
Even Sr. Vela was inclined to look upon my
proposed journey as extremely risky, and before
he set sail made a final offer to take the lot of us
back on his launch. Mufioz and the two bogas
were anxious to accept, as Eraclito had given them
to understand that their services would only be
required up to the Pongo, and that their places
would then be taken by Indians whom we would
meet there. Of the Indians we had seen so far
only one would come with me, and his canoe was
much too small to be of any use. His name was
Shamika, and he told us of a large Indian settle
ment not many days up river, where we could
191

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
get another canoe and all the men we wanted. On
the strength of this, and by dint of much personal
persuasion, I was able to instil a little life into my
men and get them to agree on not turning back.
The final arrangement arrived at was that Mufioz
would go all the way to Bellavista with me, and
Shamika, with the two bogas, as far as the first
Indian settlement, where we could charter a new
canoe and new men.
Thirty-eight hours after our arrival at the
Pongo, Sr. Vela had stowed away oh board all
the limestone his launch could carry, and was
on his way back to Iquitos. The small handful
of us that remained behind watched him go ; it
might have been yesterday, so well do I remember
the scene. The low hills shrouded in the flimsy
mist of early morning, shouts of " Felicidadez "
from a dozen throats, the waving of hats, the launch
carried swiftly down-stream, the last hoot of its
whistle as the hull vanished behind the trees,
and then — the final thread which tied us to the
outside world snapped.
Only those who are familiar with conditions in
the Amazon jungle can understand the feelings
which such farewells engender. Noisy partings,
followed by long periods of privation and hardship
in the trackless forest, fall to the lot of many a
man in these parts ; seldom are the demonstrations
on his return on a par with his leavetaking. Foot
worn and weary, starving and sick, he not infre
quently crawls back alone to some distant outpost,
thankful if only to be alive ; he enquires as to the
fate of his companions, who, in desperate straits
like himself, had taken another route ; nothing
192

CUT OFF FROM THE OUTSIDE WORLD
has been heard of them ; months pass, years, till
all hope is given up, and they, like many others,
are just forgotten.
Once in a great while traces of some lost expedi
tion will come to light — a rumour, or else something
found. On one of my journeys a bundle of papers
came into my hands, all illegible, except a sketch-
map, which was unharmed ; it related to an
expedition headed by Mirko Selgan which had
been lost in the forest a year or two previously.
The map bore a cross to mark the exact spot where
it had come to grief ; outside of this solitary piece
of paper it could be truly said that the forest had
swallowed them up.
What if the same fate befell my present expedi
tion ? Would we be the exception to prove the
rule ? Would everything run smoothly, or would
we just go through hardships more pleasant to
talk about than experience ? I looked at my silent
companions as if asking them for an opinion, but
the only answer was the shriek of the rising waters
as they tossed impatiently in the Pongo. " Come
on, men ! " I shouted, " let us have breakfast,"
and we did.
With Sr. Vela's departure there was nothing
for us to do but wait patiently for the river to
subside, as we could not think of moving until
the waters were at their very lowest ebb. I occupied
my time in various ways — short tramps through the
forest, excursions along the banks of the Pongo, or
else on the unending hunt for food. The water was
much too hot for photographic work, the average
temperature in the river being 73 ° to 740; so it
was quite useless to attempt anything in that line.
n 193

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
My chief object of interest was the river itself,
and I kept a constant record of its variations ;
during the time we were encamped on its banks
it rose and fell within the limit of ten feet, and
this was the dry season ! Shamika 's judgment
seemed infallible ; several times when the water
was low and stationary, I would call his attention
to it, thinking that we might make an attempt to
pass the barrier, but he would only shake his black
head, and sure enough another rise would set in
before a couple of hours had elapsed.
Although not exactly suspicious, I wondered
what was at the back of this fellow's mind in going
up river with us ; it evidently suited his purpose
admirably, or he would not have been so keen ;
furthermore, he was very emphatic about not
passing beyond the Indian settlement which he
spoke about, for the reason that he had stolen a
woman from a house near there last year and was
at war with the family as a result. It looked to
me very much as if this habit of stealing wives
was becoming a hobby with him, for he had three
already, and on this journey he was after a fourth.
Whatever his propensities were it made little
difference so long as he did not use us as a cloak
for carrying on another raid amongst his neigh
bours, and so embroil our party in a feud. Although
this looked highly probable he was too good a
man to lose, and we had to take the chance ; when
it came to handling a canoe he was a marvel, and I
was convinced that if he could not land us safely
through the Pongo no one else could.
The psychological moment arrived ; it was the
fifth day after our arrival, and I woke to the sound
194

BATTLE IN THE WHIRLPOOLS
of heavy rain. Curiously enough, the river was
falling rapidly, and by eleven the air had cleared
and the local wind was blowing up fresh in our
faces. At noon precisely we set out, Shamika in
the bow taking charge of operations, Mufioz in
the stern, the other two bogas and myself amidships
with the cargo. Entering along the north shore
we worked our way skilfully round the limestone
buttresses that protruded from the bank ; it was
a case of brains versus force. The water was
flowing swiftly but easily, and only along the rocky
shore was there very much foam ; indeed, the
difference noted between this occasion and times
when I had watched it in flood was extraordinary.
Our progress was naturally slow ; striking the
back eddy of a whirlpool the canoe was propelled
up-stream near the bank at a lively rate till a promon
tory was reached ; here everybody would clamber
out on to the exposed rocks, remove the cargo,
and tow our fragile craft around the point against
the rushing current, one man remaining in the
bow with a pole to keep it clear of the shore, while
the rest of us hauled lustily. So long as the canoe
never got across the current all would be well,
and once round the point in a backwater the cargo
would be re-stowed, and we went sailing up-stream
again to the next buttress, where the same cycle
of operations would be repeated.
One point was too difficult to pass round, so
we had to cross over to the south bank, and in
so doing my men displayed great skill. If we
started away from the shore too late we would
get drawn into the next whirlpool ahead of us ;
if too early, we would be carried down-stream too
195

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
far and get wrecked on the rocks of the opposite
shore. In other words, there was but one place
where we could get clear from the north bank,
and one spot on the south bank where we could
strike a back current of the whirlpool that would
draw us inshore, and not to the centre of the
vortex. In mid-stream we had also to be careful
that the canoe did not get beam on to the current,
or it would have been swamped ; on the other
hand, if it lay parallel to the current, we would
have been carried down-stream too far in spite
of our efforts.
We actually lost some two hundred yards in
the operation, and worked like demons the whole
time. Deep water, churned up into foam rushing
and hissing by, could not be treated lightly with
a heavily-laden canoe, and I was glad when we
were over in safety. Within five hours from
starting we were through the worst part of the
gorge, by six opposite the Canusa Yacu, or Santiago
river, and half an hour later snugly camped on a
large sand-bar for the night. Thanks to Shamika,
and the untiring energy of the bogas, a miracle
had happened — the Great Barrier was behind
our backs.

196

CHAPTER X
I laboured under the delusion that once through
the Pongo all would be well, but fate arranged
otherwise ; our troubles had barely started.
In a blissful and contented state of mind, born
of ignorance of what was to come, I stretched
myself out for the night in a saucer-like hollow on a
sand-bar, at peace with the world and happy to
think that in our first bout with the foe we had
won hands down.
There were no mosquitoes to make night hideous,
the air was not the least oppressive, and I slept
soundly, in consequence, dreaming of canoes and
rushing waters, of upsetting and drowning, quite
amusing episodes to dream about now that our
difficulties were over, and we were safely through
the Pongo; but yet dreams have a way of being
vividly realistic at times, and when they deal with
such things as drowning they are apt to be rather
terrifying. I made an effort to wake up to throw
off the nightmare which troubled me, and make
a fresh start. What was the matter ?1 I was
soaking wet — actually in the water; surely it was
all part of the ghastly dream — but there was no
dream about it, it was a cold fact.
In the dim grey hours of early dawn I quickly
grasped the situation. The river had risen rapidly
197

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
in the night, and water was now pouring into the
hollow where I had gone to sleep. By the time I
had scrambled to safety there was over two feet
of water where I had been lying. My companions
were more fortunate ; they were on higher ground,
but many of their belongings which had been left
on the sand were soaked, and a few things had
even floated off with the current, never to be seen
again. We had an early breakfast, and set out on our
day's work dismal and dripping, till the sun came
to our rescue and dried our clothing.
My camera had suffered from the effects of some
water that had found its way into the carrying
case, causing a vital part of it to become unglued.
I had no means of repairing it, and but for the
lucky thought of using the latex from the skin
of a green banana it would have been out of com
mission for good. A bountiful application of this
gluey substance and the affected parts adhered
together once more in first-class style.
The country which we now journeyed through
was of exceptional interest ; it had become quite
flat again, was well drained, and had no tendency
to be swampy. The soil was largely composed
of gravel, and the all-pervading forest on top of
it seemed more dense and more vigorous than
any we had yet seen. Back of us the range of
hills, which had cost us so much trouble and delay,
loomed up like a bank of blue smoke on the horizon,
and in front the river — always our enemy, the
river — muddy and turbulent, put obstacle after
obstacle in our path.
Up to the time of our arrival at the Pongo I
198

NOT A LIVING SOUL

had regarded the river as a friend, but the events
of the past few days had brought about a great
change in my sentiments towards it, so much so
that now I looked upon the flowing waters as a
repulsive monster, always on the look-out to entangle
unwary humans in its clutches.
Although rapid progress was out of all question,
sheer hard work and incessant slogging brought
us just so much nearer our goal every evening.
Not a sign of living soul was to be seen anywhere ;
occasionally an old palm-leaf shelter on a sand
bar told us that Indians visited the place once in
a while, but we never saw one, and so far as we
knew we were the only people in the vast solitude
that surrounded us. For that matter we might
have been the only people in the world.
One morning, while cautiously making our way
along the banks, we were surprised to see human
footprints leaving the water's edge and leading off
into a thicket of wild cane. We stopped to
examine them, and wondered what kind of a man
it could have been, here in this uninhabited
region who had apparently walked out of the
river, into the jungle, just like some wild animal
of the woods.
Shamika showed unusual interest ; to him, no
doubt, they conveyed a bookful of information.
They were made by a woman, he said. How did
he know that ? Because the feet were turned in,
and not straight like a man's — at least, that was
what Mufioz understood from his jabberings. It
was an interesting discovery, but I feared compli
cations might arise — visions of Shamika giving
chase and returning triumphant with a fourth
199

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
wife to grace his modest harem in the woods,
passed through my mind, then what would happen
to us with no one to launch us into savage society.
My fears were unfounded, as he was enticed away
from the scene without showing any particular
desire to follow up the quarry, and the incident was
soon forgotten.
We were paddling now over a large expanse
of quiet water almost like a lake ; my thoughts
had turned to flying-boats, and I was marking
the locality on my sketch-map as an ideal seaplane
station, when a piercing scream rent the still air.
It was followed by others in quick succession.
A moment later a large dug-out canoe shot
out from the opposite shore ; in it crouched three
naked savages, yelling at the top of their lungs ;
they were gesticulating and paddling frantically,
making desperate efforts to head across our bows.
It looked as if we were in for it properly this time,
and the last words of my friends in Iquitos about
Indians shrinking the heads of their enemies came
back to me with renewed significance.
The dismay shown by the bogas gave me no
assurance for our safety, and even the imperturbable
Shamika in the bow was like a wild man, and tried
to turn our canoe down-stream to get out of harm's
way. I realised that such a manoeuvre would be
fatal, so I seized my paddle and kept the canoe
on its course pointing up river, at the same time
shouting to the men to keep on paddling as if
nothing had happened.
It was well to be prepared for any eventuality,
so I laid my rifle alongside of me ; then I remembered
the beads in my waterproof bag, and hurriedly got
200

STRIFE NARROWLY AVERTED
out a bunch of white ones ; thus fully prepared, I
awaited developments.
It was a curious sensation I experienced during
those few minutes while the enemy approached ;
nearer and nearer they came, shouting all the
time. Whatever their mission was, it certainly
was not friendly — Shamika's manner told me that
— yet what did they take us for, what was their
idea of attacking in the open ?
As the canoe came closer I saw there was a
bunch of bananas in it ; this was my cue, and I
was quick to act upon it. Holding up the beads
I pointed alternately to them, the bananas, and
my mouth, as if I wanted something to eat and
was prepared to give them the beads in exchange
for their fruit.
The effect was electric ; they stopped shouting,
hesitated, and then came alongside, the bananas
and beads exchanged hands, along with a few odds
and ends to show the Indians that we were perfectly.
friendly. Shamika and the men appeared greatly
relieved, cordial relations were soon established,
and we all repaired to a convenient sand-bar for
a pow-wow. Our friends proved to be Huambisa Indians,
the traditional enemies of the Aguarunas, the
tribe to which Shamika belonged. As the latter
was at war with his own people, he was regarded
in this particular instance as a friend, and treated
accordingly. This threw a little light on past
events, but there was still much that was obscure
and unintelligible to us, since Mufioz knew very
few words of the Aguaruna language, and was
useless as an interpreter. 201

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
The conference was short and animated, accom
panied by any amount of side play and gesticulating,
from which we deduced that there had been a
fight somewhere and events of importance had
taken place further up the river, which made
Shamika anxious to move on. I was not sorry
when he joined forces with the other Indians in
their canoe and left us to ourselves ; he was
evidently on the warpath, and with such a fire
brand in our midst there was no telling what
complications we might not let ourselves in for.
It was three hours' hard work before we arrived
at the island and stream on the south bank where
we understood the Indian settlement was to be
found. Shamika and his friends had lagged behind
after the first half-hour, and eventually dropped
out of sight altogether, never to be seen again.
The motives which swayed them were now made
clear ; instead of a few Indian huts peacefully
snuggled away in the woods, a large black patch
of smouldering ashes was the only thing to be
seen. The whole place had been ransacked and
burnt to the ground !
I went on shore alone to reconnoitre, since
Mufioz and the men would not leave the canoe
for fear of encountering some of the combatants
still prowling in the bush. The destruction had
been complete with the exception of one hut,
half of which remained intact, and in the centre
of it lay two dead Indians and a mummified corpse ;
fighting had been recent, and the attack a surprise
one, for several spears were standing in the racks
untouched. 202

A BURNT SETTLEMENT

This was a nice mess to get landed into after
coming such a long way. It might even mean
returning to Iquitos, if my men refused to go any
further, and that was the last thing I wanted to
do ; yet the prospect of getting a canoe and Indians
to man it was absolutely nil, and heaven only
knew how much further we would have to go
before finding another settlement.
The end of a hard day's work was not a pro
pitious time to suggest further hardships to my
companions — " sufficient unto the day is the evil
thereof " — and accordingly I did not broach the
subject then, but waited until morning when they
had rested and eaten well.
Bananas and yucas were so plentiful that we
helped ourselves lavishly, and had a really good
meal for a change. Had it not been for the rain
the night would have passed off well for all of us.
I slept under the roof of the half -burnt hut, but
the bogas preferred to lie out on the sand and
get wet.
During some of our attempts to extract informa
tion from Shamika I remembered his saying that
yet another Indian settlement existed higher up
where the river made a big bend, at a place called
Pati Huashani. I decided to make this a definite
objective to aim for, and to persuade my bogas
to continue with me up to that point, at any rate,
in search of the elusive Indians and canoe that
were to carry us forward to Bellavista.
Naturally they rebelled when I suggested it,
and clamoured that we all go back at once, before
we were murdered, or any other ill befell us.
Negotiations with men of this class call for much
203

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
diplomacy and patience; antagonistic and bullying
tactics never get one very far, nor is it advisable
to be weak and constantly give way to their demands.
In this case I had chosen my time well. At eight
o'clock, when the sun was shining, the unpleasant
experiences of the night had been forgotten, they
had been allowed to sleep as late as they wanted
to, and, above all, they had stuffed away more
food under their belts in the past twelve hours
than they had seen in the past week. Mufioz was
sullen, neither helping nor hindering me, but I
won my point in the end, and with our canoe
well laden with food we once more set out into
the unknown.
We put in a difficult morning's work, and by
noon had covered quite a respectable distance-
Rain had been falling and more was to be expected,
judging from the heavy black clouds that were
flying overhead. We did not have to wait long,
a steady downpour was soon in progress, and the
river started to rise. We laid up for lunch along
side a gravel-bar until the worst had passed over,
and were then on our way again, hugging the shore
for a mile, crossing to the opposite bank, dodging
timbers, avoiding rocks, always following the path
of least resistance.
|In a small backwater further indications of
the recent fighting were encountered : two or
three large canoes broken to pieces. It was just
one more sight to upset my men, who had already
had about as much as their simple nerves could
stand. I would have liked to have prevented
it, but they had seen the destruction and drew
their own conclusions. 204

THE FATAL WHIRLPOOL

The river was rising steadily, yet still we groped,
pulled, and pushed our way doggedly ahead.
At three o'clock we approached a whirlpool of
unusual size, formed behind a mass of high rocks
that stuck out uninvitingly into the stream. Under
normal conditions we would have landed and
towed the canoe empty round the point ; unfortu
nately the nature of the banks prevented this,
but we had no misgivings as to what the outcome
would be if we remained in the canoe, since the
vortex of the pool was some distance away and
the current round the point was not very turbulent.
At the most critical moment one man lost his hold
on the shore and the pole of the other broke ; we
drifted away rapidly, and by the time paddles were
brought into play the current had taken charge, and
we were powerless against it.
Round and round we went, paddling desperately
in the hope that some accidental shift of the current
might release us at the last moment, but the circles
we described became smaller, our motion more
pronounced, our hope of escape less. No mercy
could be expected of our enemy the river ; he had
us in his grip, and was not to be cheated of his
prey ; we had defied him too long, the penalty
had now to be paid.
For what seemed a century we battled with
the inevitable, all the time getting sucked nearer
and nearer to the swirling waters in the centre
of the pool.
I was too intent on the struggle to even think,
but I saw everything. A floating log, caught like
ourselves in the maelstrom, collided with us, and
the end had come. A lip of green water curled
205

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE (JUNGLE
over the edge of the canoe, the world spun round,
up went our bow in the air, and then packages,
paddles, and men seemed to fall on top of me. The
gurgling liquid closed in from above, and I went
spinning down to eternity.
I recall taking one last breath and holding it for
what I thought was a million years ; I recall being
jostled along the bottom of the river and being
bumped up against rocks and other obstructions;
I recall a push from below, as if from some giant
hand, and then I was shot up to the surface in
an upcast current.
I had been told that one's only chance of safety
in a really large whirlpool lay in not struggling ;
at any rate, I let myself go, and it was probably
due to that that I disentangled myself so soon.
The sight of the green banks rushing by
put new hope into me, and although I had quite
reconciled myself to being drowned, I struck out
and reached the shore after considerable difficulty.
Once on terra firma I surveyed the scene that lay
before me ; no men, no canoe, nothing, only the
forest and the ever-moving hungry waters of the
river ; then, indeed, did a feeling of dismay come
over me. Why had I not allowed myself to be
comfortably drowned in the river while I was
about it, instead of saving myself for the more
terrible fate of dying from starvation and exposure
in the woods ?
Hardly knowing what I did, I forced my way
along the bank through the tangled and twisted
vegetation, but the exertion brought me to my
senses, and I stopped to figure out a plan of action.
We had come round a very sharp bend in the river ;
206

AN UNPLEASANT SITUATION
therefore it would be best to cut across through
the forest and make for the camp where we had
lunched. There was just the possibility that on
the gravel-bar some of my valuable belongings
might have come to rest.
With the aid of my pocket compass I set out,
slowly at first, picking my way with care, but
gradually my pace quickened and I tried to hurry.
There were many mud-holes into which I would
flounder up to my knees. I would be tripped up
by bejucos or creeping vines, that trailed over
the ground ; then grabbing at some nearby branch
to keep myself from falling, my hands would be
cut and slashed by innumerable thorns. Boughs
and twigs would fly back in my face, and when I
would push some branch out of the way that
hindered my progress a shower of black ants
would fall down on me, biting me vigorously.
In my haste to get on I jumped up on to a large
fallen tree-trunk, only to have my feet go right
through it, since it was rotten with age and nothing
but a shell.
In this position I stopped, short of breath, and
bleeding from wounds inflicted by the thorns
and spines with which every tree seemed to be
armed. I must have presented a wild spectacle :
cut and scratched, with my few clothes torn to
ribbons, and my face and hands covered with dirt
and filth from the decaying vegetation.
Extricating myself, I stopped still for a few
moments to reflect on my position. " This will
never do," I said to myself aloud. " Pull yourself
together, and go back to the river as leisurely as
possible." An echoing response seemed to come
207

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
from somewhere inside of me, and whether I
wished it or not I found myself walking due east,
compass in hand, not hurrying or scrambling
round obstructions as before, but quietly selecting
my way amongst the entanglements of plant-life.
All was stillness about me except the noise
made by some animal running away in the bush,
or the whirr of some bird's wings as it flew off at
my approach ; so quiet did everything seem that
the noise I myself made sounded like an elephant
crashing through the forest. The light was failing,
but I kept straight on, imbued with a sense of
direction and energy difficult to account for.
It seemed impossible that this could be anything
else than a dream ; here, only a few hours ago, I
was travelling in a canoe with three other human
beings, and then the rippling swash along the
canoe's side, the world turned upside down, and
everything disappeared.
It all seemed real enough and yet so absurdly
impossible. The reality of it, however, came back
as I caught the sound of running water, and realised
that I must be near the river once more. Parting
some branches I found myself on the bank, and
there, to my great astonishment, twenty feet below
me alongside the shore, was my canoe and in it
my three men. One had my sun helmet in his
hands, and I heard Mufioz say, " Let us go back
The patron is evidently drowned."
They must have had the shock of their lives
when my voice came from above, " No, no ; let
us go on higher up the river for the night." They
certainly looked surprised, and in Mufioz' face I
seemed to catch a shadow of disappointment.
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HOW IT HAPPENED

Without further ado I scrambled down into the
canoe ; the rain had once more started, and we
crossed over to the opposite bank to look for a
suitable place to camp. Luck favoured us ; a
small but recently made tambo was discovered
on the shore, evidently made by the Indians who
had been on the warpath, as it was not more than
forty-eight hours old. Here we settled down for
a long, wet, and dreary night.
I at once questioned Mufioz as to what had
happened. It seemed that when the inevitable
occurred all three men had clung to the canoe
like so many leeches, and being thus buoyed up had
not been carried down into the whirlpool, but
had floated about a mile down-stream, righted
the canoe in a calm backwater, baled it out, and
picked up several of my belongings which happened
to be floating around. Then they had worked
their way up-stream again in search of myself,
and finding only my sun helmet, had come to the
conclusion that I was lost, when I made the dramatic
appearance just related.
I should mention also that according to the
direction I took with my compass I ought to have
hit the river at least a mile down-stream, instead
of which I came out within twenty yards from
where I had started in the first place. It was
3.30 when we struck the whirlpool, as my wrist-
watch, which was full of water, ceased duty at
that hour, so I must have been wandering about
in the forest two hours or more.
Before darkness came to our relief and obscured
the miserable river from our view, I made a note
of the packages that had been rescued by the men.
O 209

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
Every particle of food had gone — there was no
need to look further ; that one loss in itself would
probably mean our returning to Iquitos in the
morning ; it seemed inevitable. The fortunes of
our party were certainly at a low ebb.
Discouraged at the sudden turn events had
taken, I entered a few bare facts about the disaster
in my diary, which luckily had been preserved in
its waterproof covering ; the date, of course, was
the first thing to write down, and so it began —
Friday, the 13th of September. " Good gracious ! "
I exclaimed to myself, "the 13th, and a Friday
at that. What a combination to please the super
stitious. No wonder we came to grief, and yet
Friday is my lucky day." How could I reconcile
myself to that ? In thinking it over, I came to
the conclusion that my good luck in getting out
alive from the whirlpool was greater than my bad
luck in getting into it, and so my good fortune as
usual predominated.
All night it rained steadily, the continual dripping
of the water from the trees sounding like some evil
spirit gloating over our misfortunes. Camped in
the dark and dismal forest, without a fire to cheer
us, our clothes wringing wet, with the major portion
of our belongings lost, we waited for the dawn with
more anxiety than any shipwrecked mariner adrift
on storm- tossed sea.
As the daylight began to filter through the tree-
tops the rain ceased, and a dense fog crept over the
landscape. I got up in the wet clothes in which I
had been lying, bundled my few water-soaked
packages into the canoe, roused the men from the
lethargy into which they had fallen, and before
210

FIGHTING OUR WAY FORWARD
they realised what had happened our canoe was
being sent resolutely up-stream.
To their anxious enquiries as to what we were
going to do, I replied briefly that we would just go
a little way up the river to the first sand-bar, where
we could dry out our clothes and generally take
stock of the situation. It was not the time or place
to discuss plans ; I had not even opened a single
package to see what had been saved or lost ; it
might mean further discouragement for all of us ;
if so, it was better postponed.
For two hours we fought and battled with the
treacherous waters, keeping on the south bank so
as to avoid the whirlpool which had been our
undoing. The river had risen seven or eight
feet, making it impossible to pole along the bank
as we had done heretofore ; instead we sneaked
under the overhanging boughs, swinging on to
branches and performing all kinds of acrobatic
tricks to avoid the many obstructions in our path.
Above the scene of yesterday's disaster we
reached a point that no human effort could pass,
and we had to cross over to the opposite bank.
With care we managed it, and found ourselves
just above the fatal whirlpool, having been carried
by the current nearly a quarter of a mile (down
stream) in making the crossing.
So we went on, alternately progressing a mile
and then losing half the distance when further
progress on that bank became impossible and
necessitated crossing over to the other. In about
four hours we had passed the mouth of the River
Nieva. The ground had become much higher,
and for that reason the river was still harder to
211

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
navigate. At eleven the sun came out, and was
the most welcome thing I ever saw in all my life.
We were now close to a sand-bar, and landed
forthwith rather than risk further navigation. I
had got the men well clear of the scene of our
misfortunes, and with bright sunshine to bask
in all afternoon they would soon be in better
spirits, even if there was nothing for them to eat.
The canoe securely beached, the gear was carried
up to a clean, open stretch of sand, and there in the
blazing sunshine the various bundles were opened up
for inspection. Although we knew in a general way
what had been lost, yet each one of us had some
thing special that he particularly hoped had survived
the wreck.
The bogas' interest centred round the long-
bladed machetes ; to them they were the only thing
that counted. They had good reason to think so,
because without one of these valuable weapons it
would hardly be possible to survive very long in
the forest. They served a variety of purposes,
from preparing food and splitting firewood to
hacking a passage through the underbrush. One
only had been saved ; still, one was better than
none, and they were satisfied.
Mufioz was chiefly concerned about the safety
of the money — my money. He was only really
satisfied when he had actually seen some of the
golden coin. At the time his interest never struck
me as curious, but in the light of subsequent events
I quite appreciated his anxiety. All paper currency
was lost, leaving forty Peruvian pounds to last me
the rest of my journey to the coast.
My own special hope was that, since the cameras
212

BULK OF MY CARGO IS LOST
were no longer serviceable, the photos already
taken might be saved ; my wish was granted almost
in full, and many of the illustrations which now
grace the pages of this volume were amongst them.
My medicine-bag, diary, and maps had not even
suffered from their immersion.
In bulk three-quarters of the cargo had been
lost, but the quarter that remained was probably
the most important. Of those things that went
to the bottom of the river I have already mentioned
the food, then all cooking utensils had gone and
every scrap of camp equipment except a single
blanket ; in future all such luxuries as mosquito
nets and waterproof sheets, etc., would have to
be dispensed with. Of clothing an old suit, top
boots, pyjamas, and a few shirts remained, but
brushes, combs, soap, etc., had all gone under,
and it made me tremble to think what I would
look like when civilised parts were once more
reached. Four hundred rounds of rifle ammunition
floated, but as all firearms had sunk it looked like
a rather useless weight to lug about with us ; nothing
however, was discarded — who knew but what they
might not fill some useful function later on ?
In pulling out a bundle of clothes from the last
bag a large packet of beads and ornaments rolled
out on to the sand ; this was a very great piece
of good luck, as in our present position they were
worth a fortune for trading with the Indians,
whereas the gold had no value at all.
We had divided our supply of most things in
two halves and kept them in separate cases ; it
was this system of splitting stores that resulted
in our recovering such a good assortment. At
213

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE

the bottom of this last sack were three small packages
which when unwrapped turned out to be tins of
sardines. I gave one to each of the three men, since
they had the hardest work to perform ; as for myself,
if I could not eat well, I preferred not to eat at all ;
it was like throwing a straw to a drowning man.
Mercifully for us the rain held off during the
entire day, and before night drew her curtain of
darkness over the scene everything had been
thoroughly dried out and carefully packed away
ready for the next move, whatever it might be.
Before turning in I sauntered down to the river
to see what the prospects might be for the morrow,
but the waters were tearing along in high flood,
and unless they eased up pretty soon we would
be marooned where we were for several days.
Without food, the time was bound to arrive when
sheer necessity would drive us back along the road
we had come by, and I would have to abandon
my cherished plans whether I wanted to or not.
In the meantime, by almost superhuman efforts
of persuasion, I had got the men to fall in with
my ideas ; how it was managed is hard to say,
since it meant deliberately facing several days of
starvation ; at any rate, my unbounded enthusiasm
won them over, and we all agreed to continue on
up the river to that semi-mythical place, Pati
Huashani, where food, at any rate, was to be found.
The following morning the waters had actually
abated very considerably, and we were off at an
early hour. There was no delay incidental to the
preparation of breakfast ; we just rolled up our
blanket, put the three bundles on board, and
there we were. At the last moment there were
214

THREE DAYS WITHOUT FOOD
signs of wavering in the ranks ; down-stream was
such an easy way out of our difficulties ; it would
mean a hot supper of yucas that very night at the
burnt Indian settlement ; up-stream lay hard work
and the unknown, without the redeeming feature of
honour and glory to spur us on; to hungry men
such prospects did not have a very strong appeal.
A few good thrusts from my pole in the stern
started the canoe in the right direction ; there
was no mistaking my wishes, and we were soon
making good headway along the southern shore ;
seeing a smooth looking brazo we followed up it
for some distance with great success. These side
channels which parallel the course of the main
river usually have sluggish currents, and, being
shallow, they are generally much easier to navigate
in canoe. On we pressed hour after hour, till
darkness compelled us to camp for the night,
only to face another's day's work when daylight
returned. As the pangs of hunger assailed us it
became more and more difficult not to turn and
drift down-stream, but we were buoyed up with
the hope that sooner or later we must encounter
Indians. Luckily the fine weather continued, and the
flat nature of the country was favourable for
encountering side-channels, through which we
could advance comparatively easily.
In the afternoon we reached a huge right-angle
bend to the west, which from Shamika's crude
description could be none other than Pati Huashani.
At last food was at hand; our flagging energy
revived, and we kept a sharp look-out for the habi
tations we expected to see. Yes, there was the big
215

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
whirlpool that Shamika spoke about ; there was no
doubt about it — we had arrived at last.
We were past the bend and still advancing when
it gradually dawned upon our fatigued senses
that we had drawn a blank ; there was not a single
hut to be seen anywhere, and once again disappoint
ment pierced our hearts. To me it was worse than
disappointment ; it looked perilously like defeat.
There was a limit to human endurance, and in
fairness to my men I could not expect them to go
on indefinitely ; they were really splendid fellows,
and had worked like Trojans in spite of all our
misfortunes. No one could have felt more grateful
to them than I did for having got us as far as they
had, yet my destination was Bellavista, not Iquitos ;
the question was, how was I going to get there ?
I called a council of war, and, as was to be
expected, they openly rebelled and refused to go
any further ; they were tired, hungry, and com
pletely played out ; what could I do ? I could
not blame them for wanting to go back, because
Eraclito had only arranged with them to go as far
as the Pongo, but Mufioz had contracted to go to
Bellavista, and now he would not back me up in
my arguments ; from his silence I knew that he
secretly hoped the turning point had come.
We were approaching a low ridge of hills such
as Indians usually inhabit in preference to the
flat land, of which we had seen much during the
past few days. If we could only reach the foot
of those hills, some ten miles away, I had an idea
that the situation might still be saved. So far I
had held out no financial reward to any of the men
other than the original price agreed upon in
216

RIVER SCENE IN THE FOOTHILLS OF THE ANDES.

HUNTING FOR FOOD

Barranca ; what if I offered a substantial cash
reward ? — that might just get them to endure a
little more hardship on my account. My supply
of gold was very low, but under the circumstances
it was worth spending some now ; if only it would
advance me another ten miles I would take a chance
of running short when nearing the coast.
Accordingly I offered to divide five pounds between
the two bogas if they would push on up to noon the
next day. It was a fortune to such people, but
they were not moved by the thought of it. At
last, after much talking, they agreed if I would
camp then and there for the night ; but now I
could not accept, the stake was too great; two hours'
of daylight remained, and I could not afford to
lose a single opportunity of advancing, no matter
how small. It is fatal to start loitering when things
go badly ; in our own case had it not been for my
urging the men forward at odd moments, and at
times when things looked blackest, we would have
been homeward bound long before now.
In the end I persuaded them to see that the time
could be spent to better advantage, and we had chalked
up three more miles to our credit before we finally
settled down on a high sand-bar for a well-earned rest
While I sat on a log to write up my notes, the
men, armed with our one and only machete, went
off into the bush, as usual, hoping to find some
thing to eat. We had been living on hope for the
past three days, and had not found it very fattening ;
this was to be another such banquet, easily prepared
and easily disposed of. They had been absent
some time, and daylight was slipping away rapidly
when I heard their cries in the distance, and saw
217

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
them rush out of the forest as if a party of hostile
Indians were at their heels. As they ran they
shouted incoherently, and in a manner that left
no doubt in my mind as to what had happened.
Without arms to defend ourselves there was no
time to lose if we were to make good our escape.
I literally hurled the cargo into the canoe, pushed
it out into deep water, and with everything ready for
a quick get-away, scrambled up the bank again to
see from what quarter the Indians were coming.
In the gathering dusk the three men dashed up
to me, short of breath and greatly excited.
" Senor," they panted, " yucas, yucas," and threw
thirty or forty of them on the sand at my feet.
I may have moved quickly in preparing for our
escape from the imaginary foe, but it was nothing
compared to our combined efforts during the next
few minutes while preparing our meal of yucas.
Driftwood was collected and a good fire started
in double-quick time, and then while we waited
for the pot to boil, the story was told how in wander
ing round the woods they had found an abandoned
Indian hut with yucas growing nearby, how they
had pulled up by the roots all they could carry,
how they had found an earthen pot in the hut, and
finally brought the lot back to camp.
We laughed and talked over the event in all its
details as excitedly as if it had been an affair of
international importance, and only when the aching
void beneath our belts had been filled did we revert
to other topics. Boiled yucas without salt are
about as unpalatable eating as anything imaginable,
but the way they disappeared under our supervision
did credit to our digestive organs.
218

SAVAGES AT LAST

The morning, which was to bring success or
failure in its train, started just like any other. The
mechanical process of loading up the canoe, the
final inspection on shore to see that nothing was
left behind, and then all eyes on the river, our
day's work had begun.
I had no cause to grumble ; our rate of advance
was, if anything, better than usual, but what about
Indians ? Hour after hour drifted by and the
forest remained unbroken, undisturbed; not by
sight or sound was I encouraged to think that
habitations might be near. The sun gradually
approached the zenith; another hour and the
stipulated time would have expired: we would
be out in the centre of the river, and on our way
back to Iquitos.
It hardly seemed worth while going any further,
as we were making our way along a straight stretch
of open water, which meant at least two hours'
work before reaching the next bend. We could
see clearly most of the way, and Mufioz suggested
that since nothing was in sight we might just as
well turn back and be done with it, but I delayed
for a time. " Only a little further," I said, " and
then we really will turn round."
The forward boga stopped for a moment and
shaded his eyes from the glare off the water. " Look,
senor," he said quietly. " Savages — over there —
on the right bank."
I could have shouted with joy ; it was no halluci
nation ; several brown figures were standing close
to the water's edge, watching our movements.
Good fortune had smiled upon us ; our struggle
had not been in vain. 219

CHAPTER XI
We landed without any demonstration of hostility
from the savages on the bank, and at the bidding
of one of them followed up a path which led to an
open hut, in the centre of a clearing planted
with yucas. After making a few presentations of
beads, as an expression of our friendly mission, we
seated ourselves in the shade ; Mufioz knew half
a dozen words of their language, I knew none,
and the Indians did not understand a word of
Spanish, with the result that the conversation
which ensued was very limited, and was carried on
chiefly by means of signs, with grunts at periodic
intervals to relieve the monotony of the proceed
ings. We tried to explain that two of our men
were returning down-stream with the canoe, and
that Mufioz and myself wanted to get a new canoe
and two more men to go up-river just as far
as possible. To make our meaning more clear
we beckoned to the assembly to follow us back
to the bank, where we pointed to another canoe
lying alongside our own and then to two Indians,
waving our hands up-stream ; we also held up
some beads and pointed to them, so gradually
conveying the impression that we were anxious
to travel and willing to pay.
Beads did not seem to be in much favour, so
220

THE RED CLOTH

other articles from our stock had to be produced.
In opening up the parcel a large red cloth, used
for photographic work, caught the eye of the owner
of the hut ; he seemed very pleased with it, took
it in his hands, fingered it, wrapped it about his
waist, and finding it twice the size necessary for
a loin cloth, went up to one of the women nearby,
but changed his mind at the last minute, as she
was too fat, and measured up a thinner one instead.
This decided him ; he and his canoe were at our
disposal for three days.
So far so good, but we still needed another man,
and no one in this household wanted to join us-
Higher up, they told us, was quite a big settlement
called Huaracayo, where we could find another
Indian ; so we set out for the place, leaving our
new Indian friend in possession of the red cloth,
and a savage promise to come on early the next
morning in his canoe.
Round the bend there were a number of habita
tions, and as we landed near the largest one a horde
of Indians came down to meet us. They were
not hostile, but I gathered from the spears they
carried that they were on the defensive and did
not want to be caught napping.
I stepped on shore amongst them as uncon
cernedly as possible, handing a string of beads to
the most important looking individual. He patted
me on the shoulder as if pleased, and pointed the
way up steep steps cut in the bank, which brought
us to a flat clearing on the hillside with a remark
ably regular and well-built house in the middle
of it. We were bade enter, and given some curious
pieces of wood to sit on. To make us feel at home
221

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
a boiled yuca was handed out to each of us, and
then some soup, the preparation of which I had
watched with considerable interest. The liquid
had been poured out of a pot into four gourds,
a woman then took the head of a large fish from
another receptacle and dipped it repeatedly into
the soup, squeezing it thoroughly after each
immersion. It might not sound a very palatable
dish, but we were not inclined to be fastidious,
as outside of the yucas we had had the previous
evening nothing had passed our lips for over
four days.
During the afternoon there was a large influx
of visitors from the outlying habitations, and we
soon found ourselves in the centre of an admiring
throng. It was an orderly, well-behaved assembly
that collected to make our acquaintance, laughing
and chatting in quite a normal manner, without any
inquisitive staring such as white people often indulge
in when thrown with strangers for the first time.
No matter what direction the conversation took
we always managed to bring it back to the all-
important topic of our journey and how it was to
be continued. The proceedings afforded much
amusement to every one, judging from the bursts
of laughter which greeted our efforts to make
ourselves understood. Huatinge, the Indian who
had already promised to accompany us, came
unexpectedly to our rescue, and caused the sensa
tion of the day by appearing in his newly acquired
scarlet loin-cloth. With his assistance we were
able to persuade another Indian called Yampes
to join our party, the consideration being thirty
white buttons, twelve needles and a fish-hook.

A THREAT

There was no necessity for my two bogas remain
ing any longer, now that everything had been
arranged, so calling them over I gave them their
reward, and told them they could return to
Barranca whenever they wished. In view of the
way things had turned out they were greatly
surprised when the five pounds was handed to
them, and showed their pleasure by the rapidity
with which they departed. In a matter of minutes
their canoe was out in the centre of the river, being
driven down-stream as fast as they could propel
it. Never have I seen men more pleased to be
gone than they were ; in six days they would be
safely back in their own homes ; if I were back
on the Pacific coast within six weeks I would be
doing well.
While turning over the future in my mind,
Mufioz came up to me and wanted to know how
much I was going to give him as his reward. He
had seen the bogas receive their five pounds,
and his spirit of avariciousness was now coming
to the surface. His words carried an implied
threat that if I did not give him something it might
go badly with me. So that was his attitude : I
was not surprised, yet it gave me a momentary
shock to have my thoughts confirmed. To have
thrashed the nonsense out of him on the spot
would have done my disposition a lot of good,
but it would have only been contrary to my own
interests in the long run, and I contented myself
with promises which were easily made. He would
have liked some money immediately, but I quietly
told him that he would get his reward in full when
we reached Bellavista, and the better he behaved
223

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the more he would get ; thus the situation was
temporarily relieved.
My followers were thinning out with a vengeance.
On leaving Iquitos we had been a large party on
board the launch ; at Barranca we numbered five ;
at the Pongo we were reduced to four ; now we
were cut down to two. How long would it be before
I was left alone ? The men that had just left me
were half-castes, and spoke only the imperfect
Spanish of the river country ; difficult as it was to
follow, we could, at any rate, understand each
other ; from now on, outside of Mufioz, who was
not inclined to be communicative, there would
be no one with whom I could talk a single word.
Having no camera to work with, there was not
very much for me to do, except write up my notes
and watch the strange inhabitants of this strange
place. What impressed me more than anything
else was the extreme neatness of the house and
the geometrical precision with which it was built
in the form of a perfect oval. The roof was heavily
thatched with palm leaves and the walls were
formed of straight poles driven into the ground
and lashed together in a thoroughly workmanlike
manner. On the side away from the river a second
row of short poles was driven into the ground
at a distance of six inches from the main wall,
the intervening space being filled with rocks, making
a strong barricade five feet high. The side nearest
the river had no extra protection whatsoever. The
interior was cool and dark, with a narrow door
at each end ; there were plenty of cracks, however,
and the outside air circulated pretty freely. About
twenty feet away from the main house there was
224

MURATO INDIANS IN THEIR CANOE.

A BABY PECCARY.

A WEIRD HOUSEHOLD

another small hut mounted on four substantial
poles twenty-five feet off the ground ; a form of
rope-ladder led up to it, and it was filled with an
assortment of large rocks. In the event of an
attack the women retired to this lofty perch and
dropped rocks on the heads of their assailants,
while the men from below poured showers of
poisoned darts into their flank.
As the afternoon wore on our visitors withdrew,
till only those who lived in the house remained.
When darkness fell the two doors were closed,
carefully barricaded with strong wooden cross-
members, and not opened again until the morning.
My resting-place for the night was the earthen
floor, clean-swept and hard. I stretched myself
out on it, hungry and weary, and with a log of wood
as a pillow waited for sleep to waft me into a more
comfortable world. Tired as I was, my surround
ings were far too novel and interesting to allow of
my going to sleep immediately ; the occupants of
the hut, numbering thirty in all, men, women,
and children, sat round the fires conversing in
subdued tones, or else lay full length on the split
bamboo racks that were built out from the wall of
the tambo and served as beds for them to rest on.
Just as things were beginning to quieten down,
some woman complained of pains in her stomach ;
a concoction was at once prepared by the family,
poured into a gourd, and handed to the husband.
He took it, and seating himself at the foot of his
rack, held it close to his mouth and started an
incantation which lasted fully ten minutes. It
sounded like " hodgy-de-podge," repeated over
and over again, backward and forward. Several
p 225

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
times he stopped to get breath, but started up again
with renewed energy, till, completely exhausted,
he passed the gourd to the sufferer, lay back on his
rack, and went to sleep.
The beverage seemed to have a good effect on
the patient, as she made no further complaints,
and in the stillness that ensued I also went to sleep.
Not long after I was suddenly aroused by yells
from the husband of the sick woman ; he was
writhing about on his rack like a snake, and
screaming in a manner that was, to say the least,
alarming. At the time I did not know that it was
the evil spirit, which had been tormenting his
wife, leaving his own body, but I was thankful
when he once more collapsed in a state of exhaus
tion, and peace again descended on the household.
All through the night I was wakened at frequent
intervals : first by a baby crying, then a dog barking,
and twice a parrot let forth a screech that would
have awakened the dead. No one seemed to sleep
soundly, as each time I was brought back to the
threshold of consciousness I would see brown
figures flitting about in the dim firelight, or hear
strange sounds issuing from the shadows. Several
times I found myself wide awake, for no apparent
reason, listening intently in the stillness and straining
every nerve in anticipation of something that
was about to happen.
Nothing transpired ; a flame from some
smouldering embers just flickered for a second
and died away ; a few whisperings came out of
the darkness, and then all would be silence. As
the night wore on, the moon rose and shafts of
silver light streamed through the cracks of the
§26

A RAINY START

walls ; outside, it was as bright as day, and once
when I was disturbed by the growl of a dog near
me, I saw the slim form of a jaguar making his
rounds of the hut, stopping once in a while to put
his paw through an extra large opening, as if anxious
to force his way within.
When daylight brought me to my senses I rubbed
my eyes vigorously, but was soon alive to the
savage nakedness about me, and took a look outside
the hut to see what weather might be expected
during the day ; alas ! it was overcast, and
threatened to rain at any moment. The savage,
Yampes, who was to make up the fourth of our
party, was on hand but did not want to start, till
the sight of our canoe coming up-stream, with
Huatinge decked out in all his new finery, caused
him to waver. I took advantage of his indecision
to get him down to the river, and, with my gear
on board, we were once more on our way.
It was well I had not delayed our departure,
for in ten minutes the rain was coming down
in torrents, and kept up a steady downpour all
day long. Loin-cloths, of course, were discarded
at once, wrapped up carefully in large leaves, so
as not to get wet, and stowed away in the canoe.
Indians, when travelling this way, do not load
themselves down with baggage or extensive pro
visions for the journey ; outside of their wardrobe
consisting of a loin-cloth, my own carried a couple
of spears and a small wicker-basket containing a
white, pasty-like substance called nija-manchi,
done up in banana leaves. It was a preparation
of yuca, which, when diluted with water, produced
an intoxicating beverage that they seemed to relish,
227

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
for every time we stopped — and we did so pretty
frequently — the basket would be produced and
a gourdful of the milky liquid prepared.
The river was by no means easy to navigate,
and it required considerable effort on the part of
the new bogas to push our fragile craft forward
through the treacherous waters that hurled them
selves against us. We safely passed another of
those awful pongos, or gorges, that had been cut
by the river through a low ridge of hills, leaving
the usual rocky salients jutting out into the stream
like so many death-traps for the unwary. Luckily
the country rock was red sandstone, without any
inter-stratification of hard limestone ; we were
therefore spared the duplication of the peculiarly
difficult passage that had characterised the Pongo
de Manseriche. About half-way Huatinge pointed
up a small quebrada that came in ono ur right,
saying " Hui," or " wirh," and then tasted the
water, motioning us to do likewise. It was
decidedly saline, and indicated the presence of
salt in some shape or form not far away.
Within three hours we had squirmed our way
through the worst part of the gorge without incident
— except rain, and how it did rain ! I sat in the
centre of the canoe like a drowned rat, continually
baling out the water and trying to look cheerful.
In reality I was not at all pleased with life ; food
at the Indian house had been very scarce, and I
was feeling decidedly weak as the result of the
privations we had gone through ; then, on top of
it all, this continual downpour was most depressing.
Wet, soaking and drenched, I would be in the
canoe one moment baling out the water, then
228

WATER INSIDE AND OUT

splashing on shore the next, tugging on to a slimy
rope, the water running down my neck in a constant
stream. I stood in water, sat in water, my clothes
dripped water, my shoes oozed water, until I was
so saturated with water inside and out that I felt
it would be easier and more comfortable to just
plunge into the river and swim the rest of the way.
The canoe was much smaller than the one we
had set out in from Barranca, and afforded us no
room to spare when once the cargo and ourselves
were on board. It was not very stable either,
and many times we were in imminent peril of
upsetting. The Indians handled it with deftness
and precision that under more agreeable circum
stances would have been a pleasure to watch, but
deluged with water and in constant fear of my
remaining cargo being hurled into the jaws of
our enemy the river, kept me continually on edge
and blind to anything, save the immediate needs
of the moment.
Under the circumstances it was impossible to
keep a record of our general direction, the tortuous
course of the river making it still more difficult.
As we approached each new bend my hopes would
rise, and I looked forward to seeing a more favour
able stretch of water unfold, but that was asking
too much ; each bend not only brought disappoint
ment, but some new form of river Rightfulness
to torment us. Had we been heading down
stream we would have had the great satisfaction
of knowing that our troubles would get less daily,
but here we were, pointing up-river, with the
equally certain knowledge that each day would
land us in still worse difficulties. 229

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
In the latter part of the day I had to walk over
several long, boulder-strewn shores ; I was shod
with what had been a pair of low shoes, but they
had lost all sense of shape; and the leather being
water-logged, I slipped amongst the loose rocks
and gravel as if on ice, making it both fatiguing
and painful to proceed even a hundred yards.
In several places we encountered large parties of
Aguaruna Indians, smeared with the characteristic
red and blue-black dyes. They looked remarkably
clean and healthy specimens of both sexes, but
we did not stop to fraternise with them, as we
were anxious to push ahead with all possible
speed. About two in the afternoon we swung round to
the left and passed a river called Sinipa, coming
in on the north bank right at the very centre of
the bend. It flows due south, and at its confluence
with the Maranon makes a difficult passage to
pass. It is navigable by canoe for three days,
after which it becomes a brawling torrent. To
anyone anxious to study the Aguaruna and Antipa
Indians this would be a very interesting place to
visit, as the banks of the river are thickly populated
with people who have never had occasion to come
in contact with the whites.
Shortly after passing the Sinipa we repaired to
a hut on the bank for the night ; the inmates were
extremely hospitable, and for the first time in five
days we had a really good meal. The head man
of the household, Panchu by name, had several
wives, young and good-looking Indian women ;
the children, however, took my fancy — pretty,
clean, and well-built, quite the most entertaining
230

AGUARUNA AND ANTIPA INDIANS
youngsters I had ever seen. There seemed to
be an air of contentment and enjoyment about
the shanty which many European homes might
well envy. Several of the young braves wanted
to trade for beads and buttons, but I conserved my
limited supply, as I did not know what the future
might bring forth and my trust in Mufioz was
rapidly ebbing away.
Panchu spoke a few words of Spanish and was
probably not a pure-blooded Indian, although in
appearance there was nothing to distinguish him
from other Aguarunas except a pair of ragged
trousers. From fragments of conversation I had
with him and subsequent information that came
into my hands, I learnt that about fifteen years
previously a man from Chachapoyas had founded
a settlement called Nazareth on the edge of the
Indian country with the object of trading in rubber ;
for a short time all went well, but his abuse of
the Indians soon threw them into a state of revolt ;
his house was burnt and most of his men killed,
the only pity being that the man himself was away
at the time and so escaped. Since then settlers
had given the whole of the Maranon a wide berth,
and the Aguaruna and Antipa Indians have remained
in undisputed possession of the country.
Whether the Antipas are a distinct tribe, or
only a sub-tribe of the Aguarunas, has not been
definitely established ; they speak the same language
and to all outward appearances are identical ; the
only differences, so far as I am aware, are in minor
customs, such as piercing the lobe of the ear and
inserting a small stick of cane therein about one
and a half inches long ; furthermore, they are
231

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
supposed to keep religiously to the north bank of
the Maranon and never cross to the southward.
As a race the Aguarunas stand four feet eight
inches to five feet two inches in height, the women
usually being considerably smaller than the men.
They are a friendly people by nature, but tenacious
fighters when once aroused. If one's first intro
duction to them is satisfactory, there is no need to
fear treachery later on, the first meeting being the
crucial test.
For a change I spent a night on one of the native
racks in preference to the floor, and found it quite
comfortable ; these are built with a slight inclina
tion and support the body only as far as the knees,
the ankles resting on another horizontal pole secured
to two uprights about a foot and a half away from
the end of the rack. It sounds as if it might be a
very uncomfortable position to rest in, but it is
really not at all bad ; besides, it has the additional
advantage that a fire can be maintained on the
ground under the feet of the sleeper, and so, when
the nights are cool, his extremities are kept fairly
warm. Mufioz and myself started off again early the
following morning ; high hills hemmed us in on
all sides and the scenery was very fine ; only the
low clouds prevented our seeing much of it. It
was not actually raining, but it looked as if it did
not need much encouragement. The river had
risen to a maximum during the night and was now
falling away rapidly. I thought if only it would
dry up altogether how nice it would be to get out
and walk the rest of the way. Huatinge and
Yampes did less work each day, but they afforded
232

AN INDIAN MAIDEN FROM THE PASTAZA RIVER.

 BREAKING UP A MEETING 
me much entertainment and were extremely
friendly ; they chatted away continually like
monkeys, as if we had all the time in the world
at our disposal. We would stop first at one hut,
then at another, for visits with their friends, which,
when totalled up, ran into a matter of hours.
One shanty in particular was the cause of our
losing a great deal of time ; a fallen tree-trunk
acted as a landing-stage and others served the
purpose of a pathway up the steep bank. I waited
patiently in the canoe till half an hour had elapsed
and as then there were no signs of my friends
returning, I scaled the slippery tree-trunk to see
if I could not break up the meeting. The cholos of
the mountains are difficult people to handle, but
Indians are worse ; they look upon a journey such
as this as a form of holiday, and if one gets cross
and tries to urge them forward they slip off during
the night and you wake to find yourself deserted ;
in many cases you will also find your present of
beads returned, adding insult to injury. In this
instance I started bartering for some bananas
and managed to procure twenty good-sized ones
for a couple of needles; then I got them carried
down to the canoe, the whole family occupying
itself with the task ; in this manner I was gradually
able to get my men to their seats, and taking advan
tage of a temporary lull in the conversation, we
slipped off before they had thought of anything
more to talk about.
In the afternoon the river started to rise once
more and the rain came down worse than ever ;
in a few moments I was drenched, and it was
good*bye to peace and comfort for the rest of
233

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the day. At 3 p.m., or maybe earlier, we
pulled up in a backwater. To my surprise,
Huatinge and Yampes, all smiles and laughter,
landed and threaded their way off amongst the
dripping vegetation. They came back almost imme
diately with other Indians and pointed to the
rising waters. "Yurmi ! " they shouted in chorus,
" yurmi catzuhan ah-ha ! "
It looked like another conference, so I nodded
as if I understood what they said, and with that
they made the canoe fast to an overhanging bough,
shouldered the cargo and off they went. There
was nothing to do but follow with good grace, and
probably it was for the best, as we had passed a very
bad passage in the river called Papa-ung, escaping
a whirlpool by the narrowest possible margin;
with the river in flood, and the rain coming down in
torrents, it was not desirable to go any further.
Sure enough our footsteps brought us to a hut,
where we were accorded a very warm welcome.
Huatinge was an old friend of the household,
and we were therefore received on the same footing.
Fish, yucas and bananas were laid before us, neatly
wrapped up in leaves, and we sat ourselves down
in a ring to partake of them ; all food was served
and eaten with the fingers, and I particularly
remember being handed a fish by the tail ; it
struck me as a humorous way of serving it, and
made me laugh to think what would be the effect
at the Berkeley or some fashionable West-End
restaurant if the waiter handed one a trout in
such a manner.
Mufioz, sullen and ill-tempered, would not thaw
out even in the friendly warmth of these wild but
234

A COMFORTABLE NIGHT

happy people of the forest ; he complained about
this and that, and asked once more how much
extra cash he was going to get for submitting to
all these hardships on my account. I humoured
him and promised him five pounds, as it was
apparently my only hope of keeping him in a
reasonable frame of mind.
After the repast I donned my clothes of yester
day, which were not quite so wet as those I had
on, then got close to a fire, so as to dry off as much
as possible before turning in for the night. The
house was not up-to-date like others I had seen ;
there were no walls, only a roof, but a very good
roof, and that was all I cared about. As my
clothing dried out I took on a new lease of life
and the remaining hours of daylight passed off
merrily enough. Once more I noticed the good
physique and cleanliness of those around me ;
they were far ahead of the mountain cholos, whose
filth and dirty rags may be picturesque at a distance,
but do not bear close inspection.
I counted eight sleeping racks in all, each complete
with its fire, foot-rest and dog, the latter being
provided only where there were women. The
dogs were savage little beasts resembling mongrel
foxes, but they were well trained, and if anyone
approached a rack that did not belong there they
would bark furiously, even if it were a member of
the same household. Should an outsider come to
the house, then all the dogs started to bark the
minute he came inside ; in this fashion it was
possible to find out who were members of the
family and who were strangers.
As usual, when we stopped at a hut, our hour
235

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
of departure was very much delayed, due to the
unending chatter that went on. At this place our
friends enjoyed our company so much that we
could not get rid of them, and they piled into a
couple of canoes when we started on our way,
sticking by us for more than half a day. Huatinge
and Yampes shouted and laughed like the rest of
them, paying no more heed to the canoe than if
we were punting quietly on the Thames ; some
times they ceased work altogether and casually
looked at a bird in the tree-top or else related a
story ; meanwhile the canoe would be drifting
broadside on across some dangerous rocks and
rapidly getting out of control. At the last moment
they would realise the danger, and with frenzied
shouts seize their paddles, avoiding an accident
by a matter of seconds. It was trying, to say the
least, as I had no wish to see my cargo again
deposited in the raging waters ; yet there was
nothing else to do but sit horribly still and
just wait.
We stopped about noon at the largest house of
any I ever saw amongst the Aguarunas. The
owner had the distinction of being the only old
savage I came across, still hale and hearty, able to
keep his offspring together, and hence get such a
huge establishment as this built. Greatly to my
relief, our friends who had been keeping us cpmpany
decided to return to their own fireside, and we were
left in peace for an hour ; then another grand pow
wow was held near Cocamshi, on a gravel-bar,
where over a hundred Indians had collected — men,
women and children. It was a most interesting
gathering, and with such an abundance of material
236

HOSTILE COUNTRY

at hand, I certainly deplored the loss of my
camera. The last night which we spent in company with
our Indians from Huaracayo was out in the open ;
on other occasions we had always managed to find
some friendly roof to shelter under, but we were
approaching hostile country now and Huatinge
was cautiousness itself. After great deliberation
we pitched our camp on a sand-bar at the foot of
the large and menacing whirlpool of Huaqui
Chaqui. It was not altogether satisfactory, as the
Indians held a consultation, and then Yampes
made a stealthy survey of our position ; having
reconnoitred, he returned, and it was decided to
shift camp once more to an island which apparently
suited them better, since we made a fire and prepared
for the night.
For once it did not rain — at least not heavily —
and we slept soundly. Each day our progress
had been less and less ; if the same proportion
were maintained I estimated that we would cover
a distance of two miles on this our last day. We
broke camp with the first streak of dawn and for
over two hours battled in the giant whirlpool.
The river at this point describes a sharp bend,
less than 900, and the channel, which is very confined,
is girt with masses of rock against which the water
hurls itself with unrelenting fury, boiling and
foaming as if in a giant cauldron. By dint of
much perseverance we were able to make our
way past it in safety and without injury to the
cargo. Above the whirlpool the river spread out
over sand and gravel bars, becoming wide and
rambling. For an hour we poled our way through
237

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the swift and shallow water, until we encountered
a stream coming in on our right which my com
panions called the Cusu. At its confluence with
the Marafion were two Indian huts strategically
placed on hill-tops commanding a clear view of
the river.
The nose of our canoe slid up on to the soft
mud near one of them ; Huatinge and Yampes
jumped on shore and laughingly told us that this
was as far as they would go. We tried to persuade
them to change their savage minds, but no offers
of beads or buttons had any effect ; apparently
they had enemies higher up and were not disposed
to run any risks. To emphasise the point they
deposited our belongings on shore, and without
further ceremony pushed the canoe away from
the bank ; a friendly nod, and they were gone —
never to be seen again.
With the exception of a few women and children,
all the inhabitants of the two huts were up the Cusu
fishing — and as further progress was impossible
until they returned, we sat down patiently to
wait. About one o'clock they came back, and when
we made our wants known there was no difficulty
in procuring adequate transportation — in fact,
there were too many applicants, and we ended
by giving presents all round. After a few trinkets
had passed hands, our fleet of five tiny canoes set
out ; the one I travelled in was not only very small,
but we had the wife of one of the warriors stowed
away in the centre. She was quite graceful, and
occupied her time killing the flies that settled on
her husband's back — this being quite an important
duty of a wife in these parts. By nightfall we had
238

PONGO OF UTA

covered a considerable distance and our five canoes
were tied up at a comfortable hut for the night,
where we could get out of the rain and sleep well.
Yet again we bartered for a canoe and Indians,
and were successful in arranging for another's day
journey up-stream, ; on this occasion it was without
any comely damsel, of which I was glad, as to my
way of thinking we had quite enough dead weight
to carry as it was, without adding to it. The rain
held off for some time, but my hopes of a perfect
day were not realised : a downpour set in suddenly.
and so intense was it that I had to revert to my
usual task of baling in order to keep ourselves
afloat. I was beginning to understand now why
the savages always looked so clean.
We made good progress, working well all the time,
in spite of the rain, and reaching the foot of another
gorge called Uta about 2 p.m. The last mile
round an " S " bend took all the surplus energy out
of the Indians ; it was a very difficult passage,
and in the last part we encountered some large
rocks in mid-channel around which the waters
poured and gurgled with diabolical significance.
Our two braves decided that they had done as
much as they cared to, and at the first hut we
encountered they put us ashore. Before returning
down-stream they handed us over to another
Indian, who had come to see us land, indicating
that we could stay at his house and he would see
us on our way the following day.
Such was the contrariness of the weather that
the moment we were under cover the rain stopped,
and I was treated to one of those common but no
less wonderful sights of local cloud formation
239

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
which never ceased to fascinate me. The last
drop of water had barely touched the ground
before the sun came out, and from its home in the
celestial blue set the whole forest steaming in its
molten rays. From the tree-tops long attenuated
streaks of gossamer mist rose heavenwards, moving
idly hither and thither amongst the hills without
rhyme or reason, or collecting like veils of fleecy
whiteness in the soft green hollows between.
Pulsating with life, they rose and fell in undulating
waves of exquisite beauty, till out of the bewildered
landscape, distorted and blurred in the humid
heat, a fragment of snow-white mist, caught in
some gentle current of the upper air, drifted apart
from the rest, and, behold ! a cloud was born that
floated off into space, a vision of intangible,
indescribable loveliness.
From the contemplation of such fanciful thoughts
I had to bring myself back to more mundane things
and displayed a few beads to raise the interest of
our host in to-morrow's journey. He was not
moved by the sight of them. Little by little I
increased the size of the pile, adding needles,
cartridge cases, and other things. At last he
embraced the lot, but I shook my head. It was
too much for one man. He thereupon divided
the pile into three big heaps and one little one.
To the first three he pointed, saying, " Ticachi
Aguaruna," and to the smaller one, " Nua," slapping
his chest and waving his arm twice over his head,
meaning that three men and one woman would go
two days up-stream.
I waved my hand over my head four times, to
intimate that I wanted him to accompany me four
240

TRADING WITH SAVAGES

days, but he shook his head slowly and pointed
south with an upward wave of his arm, then clasped
both hands to his forehead, all of which, being
translated, meant that we could not go more than
two days by river, after which we must get out
and walk, carrying our bundles on our backs.
Still anxious to conserve my stock of beads, I
separated a few articles from each pile and declared
myself agreeable to trade for what was left, but
he took back some empty cartridge cases. I
nodded my head in agreement, and all was settled.
Had I known the kind of canoe I was to travel in
I might not have been so generous in my dealings ;
it proved to be the smallest of any we had employed
up till now, with a bad crack in the stern, plastered
over with mud, which needed frequent renewing.
In addition the two other Indians were mere boys
and the women rather fat. It seemed to be the
irony of Fate that the greater became our need
for a good canoe the worse became the craft we
eventually chartered. Imagine a small cockle
shell like this carrying my cargo and six people —
the very thought was enough to upset it ! Choice
never seemed to come our way, and in this case,
like the rest, we had to take what we could get
and be thankful.
During the next two days, which were our last
on the restless waters of the Maranon, fortune
smiled upon us for a change ; the river was excep
tionally low, and in consequence we made our
way through the pongo of Uta without incident
to mar our progress ; many dangerous passages
were rendered, less risky and many gravel -bars
were exposed which otherwise would have been
Q 241

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
covered with water. Over these I could walk
for miles — a doubtful pleasure, since my only
shoes had long since disintegrated and I was forced
to go barefooted. Much time was wasted hunting
for clay with which to stuff up the crack in our
hull ; a single application lasted about half an
hour, by which time it had dissolved and the water
would come pouring in.
Each day we were treated to the usual down
pours of rain, but they started early and let up
by evening, so that we could make our shelter for
the night in comfort before it got too dark. Our
first camp was on an island called Timashtu, the
country round about being flat and quite close to a high
ridge of hills which loomed up to the south-west.
While the boys were spearing fish for our evening
meal the rest of us followed up some newly made
jaguar tracks, as we did not wish to be disturbed
by any feline visitors during the hours of darkness.
These animals are not always as dangerous as they
are supposed to be, but they have a habit of indulging
in the most awful noises at night which make sleep
almost impossible. As we were on an island it
was easy to clear it of undesirables, and our efforts
were rewarded by seeing quite a big fellow break
cover and swim ashore.
In the cool of the evening I strolled off by myself
along the margin of a quiet backwater which lay
behind our camp. I wanted to be entirely alone
for a change — away from Mufioz and his com
plainings, away from the Indians and their
unintelligible grunts, away from the gurgling river,
our camp, and everything that reminded me of
our past struggles. I wanted to see the sun set
242

REFLECTIONS

gently into the west over the brooding forest, to
see the colour of the flaming sky reflected in the
tranquil waters, and then, as the mysterious shadows
of night crept out from behind the hills, my spirit
would be at rest and I could contemplate the future
in peace.
It was exactly twenty-four days ago that I had
boarded a frail canoe at Barranca and with half-
drunken companions entrusted my life to the
tender mercies of the Upper Amazon. There
had been nothing tender about the treatment
meted out to me since that time. I had watched
the river get smaller and swifter day by day, more
turbulent and more aggressive ; I had watched
each change with varying sentiments of interest
and wonder, anxiety and disdain. I had learnt
the dangers that lurked round rocky salients, what
evils lay hidden under the innocent ripple, what
trivial errors brought disaster upon the unwary,
and on top of it all I had learnt to hate the river
because, like some animated being, it had opposed
me at every turn, tried to rob me of my possessions,
tried to strangle me in its subtle grip ; but
to-morrow at this hour — if I understood my Indians
aright — the victory would be mine. I could then
tum my back on my old enemy for ever and walk
— yes, walk — through the cool forest carpeted with
soft leaves which would rest my aching feet ; no
more hard rocks or loose gravel to stumble over,
no more scorching sun to burn and blister ; just
cool shade and contentment, with the end of my
journey almost in sight. What a thought !
Our last day passed off smoothly enough ; the
Indians took things very leisurely, their eyes and
243

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
attention being everywhere except in the boat.
Birds and animals which one would hardly think
worth noticing afforded these simple people unend
ing entertainment. The river as usual swept onward
giving forth a sound of escaping steam, caused by
the loose gravel carried along its bed by the swift
current. Many times it looked as if we could not
advance another inch against the green waters
streaked with foam, but in the end we won through
the worst passages in safety, getting nearer and
nearer our goal every hour.
At the confluence of a river called the Imaza we
followed a narrow channel on our right, and in
so doing cut a big corner that saved us an immense
amount of work. At another I followed a dried-up
channel on foot and found myself back on the
bank of the main river within ten minutes. I
waited nearly an hour before the canoe had been
hauled round the bend to the same spot. Rain
had been falling heavily most of the day, but the
sun blazed forth at the last moment, drying our
clothes out thoroughly before landing.
It was about five o'clock when we shot round a
promontory and up into a backwater which proved
to be the mouth of a small stream coming in on
our left. There were evidences of Indians, and
a pathway led up the steep bank to an abandoned
shelter. In this remote spot Mufioz and myself
finally came to rest, and were told that if we wanted
to go further we would have to walk. Before
we could gather any more details from our com
panions they and their patched-up cockleshell of
a canoe were off down-stream with the full force
of the current behind them. 244

NO MORE CANOES

Thus ended my journey by canoe, and I was not
sorry. Heavy and continual rains, with little to
eat, did .not add to the pleasure of travelling, but
apart from that it was a nerve-racking task to sit
in a leaky canoe patched up with clay and carrying
a precious cargo that any minute might be hurled
into the hungry waters through the carelessness
of a few naked savages, to whom I entrusted my
life for the price of some coloured beads, a needle
and a rusty fish-hook.

245

CHAPTER XII
Roughly two hundred and fifty miles in a straight
line east of Paita on the Pacific coast a small river,
called Ipicus by the Indians, empties itself into
the Maranon on the south bank. It is unknown
to the outside world, not marked on any map,
and so inconspicuous as to be of no consequence
whatsoever. Insignificant as this little stream may be in
comparison with the agitated and turbulent waters
of the Marafion that go sweeping by its mouth on
their long journey to the Atlantic, every detail of
it remains clearly impressed on my memory : the
placid waters which flow leisurely over a somewhat
muddy bottom, the dark forest which meets over
head forming a veritable tunnel of tropical vegeta
tion, the few banana trees which grow on either
bank where it joins the main river, and the small
shelter which stands in a clearing on its western
shore. It was here that Mufioz and myself spent a
couple of days endeavouring to procure Indians
to carry our packs and show us a way through the
uninhabited forest to Bellavista. It was here
that the river and myself parted company for good,
after an incessant hand-to-hand struggle lasting
nearly four weeks — no wonder that the Ipicus
246

TUNDAI OR SIGNAL DRUM
stands out in large letters on my map as a stream
of some importance.
There was yet one more stage to my journey
across this vast expanse of little-known country
which stretches between the Pongo de Manseriche
and the Chinchipe river. Raimondi designates
all of this area as unexplored, and even in these
days of enlightenment it cannot be said to be much
else. As, at the Great Barrier, I had lost contact
with the outside world coming in from the Atlantic
coast of South America, so in Bellavista I hoped to
re-establish it again and cover the remainder of
the distance to the Pacific in comparative ease.
Since passing the pongo of Uta two days ago
we had not seen a living soul, but many eyes had
seen us, and news of our arrival at the Ipicus was
quickly spread abroad amongst the dwellers of
the forest through the medium of the tundai, or
signal drum. This ingenuous instrument is simply
a hollow trunk, which, when hit, gives forth a
peculiar resonant sound that has great carrying
powers. By means of a recognised code the Indians
are able to transmit messages to each other from
house to house, or even over considerable distances,
if atmospheric conditions are favourable.
While preparing for the night weird drummings
on the tundai could be distinctly heard from many
directions, which told us that, although no habita
tions were visible, the forest was well populated and
we might expect early callers.
We were not disappointed ; by seven there was
a fair-sized regiment of them about our shelter,
some drawn by curiosity, others wanting to trade;
a few had bananas, and one man a paujil, a sort
247

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
of wild turkey that I exchanged for a tin can and
a cartridge case.
Knowing that there would be delay in finding
anyone willing to show us a way to the Chinchipe
river, I lost no time in starting negotiations. To
the first group of Aguarunas that had collected I
said, in an enquiring tone, " Chinqhipe ? " and
pointed west, but they shook their heads and waved
their arms to the southward, which evidently meant
that our course lay in a different direction to what
I thought. Then as a feeler I held up some beads,
and pointing to them and then to five Indians I said,
" Ticachi Aguaruna yurmi Chinchipe " — which
meant that I would give the beads to each Indian
that would go with me to the Chinchipe river,
but they only laughed as if it were a huge joke, so
I got Mufioz to treat with them while I occupied
my time to better advantage.
I estimated we would need five Indians in all
to carry our cargo and the necessary food, but the
chances of getting so many being small, I re-sorted
the gear very carefully, discarding all useless articles,
even the water-soaked box in which the now useless
"movie" camera was carried was done away with
and the instrument put in my waterproof bag
instead. In this way the weight of our cargo
was considerably reduced, and if we could solicit
the services of four men all would be well. The
things which were abandoned were not thrown
away ; when dealing with Indians everything is
useful, and sometimes the most trivial articles have
colossal value in the eyes of the savages.
Before evening Mufioz had been successful in
persuading three men to join us, and the prices
248

A TREE FERN THIRTY FEET HIGH.

A FISH STORY

paid them show how values run. One came for a
package of white beads, another for twenty rounds
of .303 ammunition saved from the wreck (but quite
useless, as I had no rifle), two fish-hooks, and a
ball of string ; the third received ten rounds of
ammunition, some metal binding strips taken off
a box, and a small mirror.
The next morning another hefty fellow who
had been hanging around decided to join our party,
his price being a few rounds of ammunition, some
beads, a pair of cheap ear-rings, two old Kodak
tins, and the sacking which had been wrapped
round the discarded box containing the " movie "
camera. This was eminently satisfactory ; all four men
were of good physique, the weather was fine, and
we would make an early start the next day. In
addition there were prospects of a good afternoon's
fishing up the Ipicus, which would bring in an
additional food-supply for our journey.
An Indian does not fish for sport, but for the
more natural motive that he wants something to
eat. It is therefore immaterial to him how he
sets about it so long as he can catch plenty with
the least possible effort. A common but very
effective method employed by savages in the river
country is to barricade the mouth of a normally
shallow creek up which fish have swum during a
period of flood so as to avoid the muddy waters of
the main river. Circumstances do not always
permit of this being done, but if they do it usually
means a pretty good haul when the flood subsides
and leaves hundreds of fish stranded in the once
more shallow waters above the barricade.
249

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
On this particular afternoon the Maranon had
dropped five feet or more, and the Ipicus, whose
mouth had been screened off when the flood was
at its height, was alive with fish of all kinds unable
to get back into deep water. Amidst shouts of
glee and much enthusiasm the Indians raided the
pools in which the fish had been entrapped, spearing
them right and left; in many places they plunged
bodily into the water and caught them by hand,
flinging them on to the bank, where the children
collected them in baskets. Men and women,
divested of their scanty clothes, all assisted in the
fray, and only stopped when each had as many as
he or she could carry. There were about forty of
us in all and we must have caught nearly five
hundred fish of good size. Anything less than
eight inches was thrown back as useless. In the
evening we smoked fish for the journey ahead of
us and ate as if we would never have another meal
again for a week ; thus thoroughly gorged we
turned in to sleep.
For once in a while I spent a restless night, not
from the effects of eating too much fish, but from
listening to the rain sweeping over the illimitable
forest, with periodic peals of thunder adding to
the din. I had visions of being detained at this
place for another day or two, which, with Mufioz
in an ugly mood, was not at all to my liking. The
direction in which his thoughts were moving was
evident, and I realised that even a small delay might
prove fatal to our interests.
At daybreak I got up and prepared another good
meal of fish and awaited developments. To my
great relief the rain stopped, and the Indians with
250

START OUT ON FOOT

whom we had bargained put in an appearance along
with a host of friends. They brought with them
long strips of bark, which were quickly made up
into slings, so that each man could carry his load
easily on his back, the main weight being taken by
a broad band round the forehead.
After considerable talking everything was in
order. We were ferried over the Ipicus, and with
a few last words were soon lost to view. So it
came about that after two days of the most delightful
weather possible we bade farewell to the sunshine
and open spaces of the river and plunged into the
dismal depths of the great forest on our way to
Bellavista. We shaped our course to the southward over an
invisible trail, keeping to the high ground as much
as possible. There were eight of us in all, including
two dusky beauties, and we trudged along in silence
through the sombre shadows.
Barely an hour after our departure a booming
sound in the distance, like the breaking of surf on
some far-off shore, proclaimed the advent of rain.
No violent wind heralded its approach, as is usual
in the mountains ; here in the sultry atmosphere
of the woods it bore down on us like an over
whelming flood, until we were enveloped in a
drenching downpour that had all the appearance
of lasting a lifetime. The Indians, although nude,
disliked getting wet as much as I did, and remained
under improvised palm shelters for an hour till
the worst had passed.
At last, after what seemed like an interminable
delay, we moved forward again, the savages display
ing very little energy even for the light loads which
251

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
they were carrying. We wound our way amongst
the dense forest growth, circling fallen trees, push
ing our way through thickets, and stopping very
frequently to talk or adjust packs. To me it seemed
that our rate of advancement was ridiculously
slow and exasperating in the extreme. No accurate
check could be kept of our direction either, except
by closely following the contour of the ground ;
for every minute we moved south, at least ten
minutes would be taken up going east or west
to avoid obstacles.
After crossing several little brooks we once more
encountered the Ipicus, now swollen to a remark
able size as the result of the rain ; we waded across,
but only to plunge into it again half a mile further
on. On this occasion it was not a case of fording
it in a decent manner, but we actually walked up
it for over a quarter of a mile, with the water at
times reaching to our armpits. Upon clambering
out we followed up a series of ridges till we gained
the summit of some hills running east and west.
It was about four when we reached the crest of
the divide and the Indians at once prepared a
tambo for the night.
I made no objection, as a good sleep and some
dry clothes would put me in a better frame of
mind to handle Mufioz ; he had hardly spoken
all day, and when he did it was only about the
hardships he was enduring and how little he was
getting in return for it. Before turning in he
once more held me up for a promise of money
when we reached Bellavista, and I was obliged to
raise the figure to £10 in order to make him content.
I would have promised him any amount for that
252

MUNOZ TURNS HIGHWAYMAN
matter, as I had quite made up my mind to give
him a sound hiding when we finally set foot at
our destination.
The rain held off most of the night, but started
in the early morning and prevented our moving
for a couple of hours. We were about to get under
weigh when Mufioz again put forward his
claim, only this time he was a little more
explicit and said he wanted his reward at once
for the reason that we were only eight days
from our destination and he was afraid that when
we got to Bellavista my promises would be as the
wind and I would not pay him anything. This
being the truth I was naturally annoyed, and told
him for the last time that he would get nothing
until he had fulfilled the terms of his agreement,
and he had better make up his mind to that. What
did the black son of a mongrel do but turn on me
saying that as I was not going to give him anything
he was going off with the Indians and would leave
me to die like a dog in the woods.
He put his threat into immediate execution,
and while he was talking to the Aguarunas I felt
down for my small automatic which had escaped
the whirlpool, together with six rounds of ammuni
tion that were in the magazine. I asked myself
how far I was justified in putting a bullet through
him. He was leaving me to a fate which in 999
cases out of a 1,000 meant death in about its worst
form. The verdict was to shoot the moment he
actually started off ; one fact alone caused me to
hesitate. If I killed him I knew the savages would
desert me, if not kill me, because Mufioz had given
them all the pretty beads and trinkets they possessed
253

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
and was therefore looked upon as a friend. This
meant I would never get out of the place alive under
any possible condition. On the other hand, if
I let Mufioz go I might find my way back to the
river and there prevail upon some other savages to
conduct me to the Chinchipe.
The chance was a very remote one at the best
of times, but rendered much more so because I
had very few articles left with which to barter.
It was less than i in a 1,000, but I gave Mufioz
the benefit of the doubt, as that seemed to offer the
one and only avenue of escape from a very serious
predicament. Besides, it was consoling to think
that if I got out alive I could come back again at
some later date and see that he got the reward
he deserved.
Before I realised what was happening Mufioz
and the Indians went filing off through the trees,
leaving me seated on my bundles under the shelter.
Wild ideas came into my head — I would not allow
the scoundrel to get off free — I would put an ounce
of lead through his villainous head and take my
chance of getting out alive. Reason, however,
spoke differently and urged me to let matters stand
as they were — but I would give him a thrashing
anyhow, I said to myself. There would be no
harm in that.
Jumping up from my seat I ran after him, calling
out his name as loudly as I could. It seemed
almost sacrilege to break the silence of the forest,
and the sound of my own voice startled me as it
echoed back and forth.
It began to look as if he had gone out of hearing,
and I was getting angry with myself for letting him
254

MUNOZ GETS A THRASHING
go, when I heard some one approaching. It was
he right enough, with a leer on his face that only
increased my annoyance, and when he muttered
something about the senor changing his mind I
took him firmly by the neck and shook him like
a rat. My blood was up and I could have shaken
an elephant with equal facility. He seized my
right thumb and pulled it out of joint, but at the
time I hardly noticed it. I was like a boiler with
the safety valve wide open and the pent-up steam
rushing out ; nothing could stop me. I went
on shaking him ; his struggles became weaker,
until, when the Indians came up, he gave a few
last gurgles, and with eyes starting out of his head
collapsed in a heap on the ground.
For a moment it looked as if my enthusiasm
had got the better of me and that I had shaken
the life out of his miserable body. The Aguarunas
were evidently not sure whether it would be best
to run away or kill me, but fear of myself was the
governing impulse which held them, and I did
not break the spell by trying to talk.
I squatted on the ground to see what would
happen. They followed my example, and together
we watched Mufioz gradually revive.
The savage mind does not understand the word
" compromise," that dangerous rock of civilisa
tion upon which so many sound ideas are wrecked ;
if the savage hates he kills ; if he does not hate
he is friendly ; so that the Anglo-Saxon idea of
handling a fellow roughly, without actually killing
him, is incomprehensible in the extreme to his
primitive mind.
In ten minutes Mufioz showed signs of life, and
255

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
as soon as he struggled to his feet he tried to slip
his long-bladed machete between my ribs. In
his feeble state I held him off easily until he gave
up the idea as useless. My next move was to give
him the £10 so as to get him to proceed, with the
ultimate idea of administering another thrashing
at Bellavista and making him disgorge. Unfortu
nately the moment he got the cash he slipped off
with the Indians and left me for good.
Several times I thought I might have acted
differently, but on turning over the situation in
my mind I felt sure that I played my cards to the
best possible advantage. He was intent upon
making a break and getting some money ; had we
not parted company when we did I would have
had his knife in my back one night while asleep,
which would have been much worse.
When the silence of the forest had once more
closed down on the scene I felt absolutely
bewildered and stunned by the atmosphere ot
desolation which swept over me. What was I to
do ? A difficult question to answer, seeing that
no food had been left behind. With a penknife
and a small automatic carrying six rounds of
ammunition, the prospects of procuring any were
zero. Still there was no need to give up in despair. I
was in a good physical condition and able to stand
considerable privation if necessary. I soon decided
that the best course to pursue was to make straight
for the river, and once there work my way along its
banks until I came to the Ipicus, where I might
procure other Indians to help me.
It was easier said than done, as the likelihood of
256

 LOST 
finding my way back along the invisible pathway
we had come by was so remote that I would have to
strike a compass course due north instead and take
the chance of encountering good ground on the way.
Before setting out I piled up all my belongings
neatly under the shelter and covered them over
with a number of large leaves so as to keep them
dry. The lighter I was laden the more rapid my
progress ; therefore I only took my note-book, ink,
and a few film tins ; these, with my light blanket,
made up my entire cargo.
Before starting I wrote up a very careful account
of what had transpired, making several copies. I
inserted them in the tins, which I taped up securely,
my idea being that if the worst came to the worst
I would drop them in the river and so inform the
outside world of what had happened — assuming,
of course, that they were picked up. It seemed
just as well to write out the story while it was clear
in my mind and I could think coherently, rather
than wait until I was in the last stages of exhaustion.
Arrangements all carefully made I set off down
hill, guided by my pocket-compass, and with a
grim determination to get back to the Marafion
at all costs. Twenty-four hours ago I had been
hurrying away from it with all speed, now I was
directing my footsteps back to it again with even
greater energy and anxiety. Such is the way of
the world !
My journey through the forest will always be
recalled as a prolonged nightmare of indescribable
magnitude. With the assistance of knives and axes it is difficult
enough to make any headway amongst such a riot
R 257

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
of jungle-growth, but without these tools it is well
nigh impossible to move in any direction, let alone
keep a definite compass course such as I hoped to
maintain. Rather than walk round the numerous obstacles
that barred the way and so lose my bearings, I
scrambled through or over them, tearing my clothes
and cutting my flesh on the innumerable spines
which protruded from almost every tree and plant.
The vines that trailed underfoot in all directions
tripped me up at every turn, throwing me headlong
into thickets of thorny undergrowth. Every effort
to save myself only resulted in getting my hands
more painfully slashed, for even those plants which
looked harmless enough had great spikes — long
and sharp as needles, concealed under their innocent
foliage, ready to cut and tear at the slightest provo
cation. After a few hours I became absolutely terrified
of touching anything for fear of incurring further
wounds ; should a branch happen to be smooth
for a change, likely as not there would be thousands
of ants crawling over it, and they bit and stung like
creeping fire.
On one memorable occasion I examined a branch
minutely before gripping it to help myself over a
bad mud-hole, such as poisonous reptiles frequently
inhabit. Seeing that it was free from both thorns
and ants I grasped it confidently to swing myself
across. As it bent under my weight a cloud of
black wasps, whose nest I had not observed at the
end of the bough, encircled my head and I fell
in the very sludge I was trying to avoid. Beating
the air frantically to keep off my assailants, I
258

TERRORS OF THE FOREST
scrambled to more solid ground. Branches flew
back in my face, blinding me with their blows.
My foot got caught in some roots, and to prevent
a fall I clutched madly at a creeper that hung like
a huge rope from the trees above. With an appal
ling crash I pulled the whole forest down on top
of me — a mass of rotten timber. From under
the debris I crawled ; the wasps had given up
the chase, but ants were running all over me, and
it was some time before I could rid myself of them
and collect my distracted senses sufficiently to
proceed. What between ants, thorns, wasps, and
innumerable other unknown things which bit and
scratched, I was being quickly driven into a state
of frenzy.
The hour was now getting late ; my course
lay uphill, and it was evident that I could not
hope to reach the river without spending at least
one night in the forest.
At the first open spot I collected a few large
leaves by way of a mattress to rest on, and with
several fronds from nearby palms cut with my
penknife, I constructed a fair shelter to keep off
the rain.
During the day I had crossed a stream, and in
so doing had lost my small automatic with its six
rounds of ammunition. I was therefore left to
face all the terrors of a jungle night with no means
of protection whatsoever except a small pocket-
knife. Exhausted and aching in every limb I lay down
and tried to rest, but the maddening quietude of
the surroundings brought no solace to my over
wrought brain ; the absolute death-like stillness
259

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
only accentuated my loneliness and emphasised
the insignificance of man who pits his strength
against the overpowering jungle. In my passage
through the forest the noise I myself made seemed
to be companionable, but now, as I lay still, not a
sound was heard unless it was a branch creaking
with age, a falling leaf, or some mournful isolated
cry of a bird that echoed through the forest like
a lost soul.
The daylight faded away little by little, the
white trunks of certain trees stood out in ghost-like
relief from the rest of their fellows. Not a tremor
or even a rustle was perceptible in the green canopy
overhead. Like a funeral pall it descended lower
and lower till in the darkness which ensued I felt
strangled and suffocated beneath.
At intervals I woke, startled by trivial sounds.
Something was walking through the forest, possibly
a jaguar or a large snake wriggling through the slime.
I distinctly heard the movement of leaves and the
snapping of twigs. Whether it was a small animal
close by or a large one far away I knew not. Al]
sense of proportion had deserted me ; all I knew
was that at any moment something might creep
over me — I held my breath and perspired freely —
the strain was too great — I stood up. Minutes of
suspense followed, then the noise would cease and
I lay down again.
The next instant I was startled out of my senses.
The leaves close at hand rustled violently, and some
thing cold and clammy flopped over my face. A
sickening shudder ran through me from head to
foot, as I tried to beat off my assailant, but it was
nothing — only one of my palm leaves that had
260

ONCE MORE ON THE RIVER'S BANK
come adrift and fallen across me. In the dark
it might have been anything.
So this was the beautiful forest which I had been
looking forward to travelling through in peace and
quietness. I laughed at the thought of it, and
burying my head under my blanket tried to obliterate
all consciousness of the outside world.
Daylight returned, and with it new hope and
energy to help me in my quest for the river. I
set out at once. Again I headed due north over
the ridge and down the other side, no horizon to
encourage; no patch of blue sky overhead to cheer
me on my way. Cracks and openings there were
in plenty, and occasionally shafts of sunlight where
the forest was more open, but it filtered down into
my world as through prison bars.
I groped my way along slowly, laboriously,
fearful of touching anything, and hoping against
hope to encounter the river any moment. At
about four the sound of running water was unmis
takable. My energy revived immediately, and
pushing forward with renewed vigour a flood of
daylight burst upon me. I was on the banks of
the Maranon.
It was five or six days ago since the Maranon
and myself had parted company, at which time
we were hardly on speaking terms, yet my joy at
seeing it again on this occasion was unfeigned ; it
was like meeting an old friend.
It still gave forth the same well-known sound
and was just as truculent as ever. On all sides
were high hills, unfamiliar and thickly wooded,
but it was too late to explore further, and I contented
myself with preparing a shelter for the night on a

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
little stretch of soft sand. "Here I slept soundly,
away from the horrors of the forest and with the
comforting thought that to-morrow I would just
follow the river bank to the Ipicus, and in so doing
encounter Indians who would assist me on my
way ; the rest would be easy.
With a light heart and empty stomach I set out
early the following morning, but within an hour I
was back where I started from in the depths of
black despair.
Fate had played me a cruel trick. The banks
of the river were high masses of rock and quite
impassable ; in fact, they were a more effective
barrier than any forest. To further add to my
difficulties, a spur of hills intervened between me
and my goal, which, in my weakened state, I could
never hope to cross. I was therefore committed
to the only alternative of remaining where I was,
on the offchance that some passing Indian might
come to my rescue.
I figured out that with reasonable good luck I
could sit still for at least two weeks with only water
to drink, whereas to launch out into the forest again
meant physical exhaustion and madness within
two days. At the time I felt confident that an
Indian canoe would be sure to pass sooner or later,
since many had passed the Ipicus during my two
days' stay on its banks. Little did I know that
not far round the bend was a cascade of such pro
portions that even an Indian would not attempt
to pass it, except once in a blue moon ; but in
blissful ignorance of this I settled down to watch
and wait.
The past two days had revealed to me an aspect
262

AN INVISIBLE MONSTER

of the forest which I had not come in contact with
before except for a brief hour or two after disaster
had overtaken my party in the whirlpool. So
long as all goes well there is much to please the
eye and charm the senses in this vast jungle-garden
of the Amazon, but to the man who is so unfortu
nate as to lose his way, or be abandoned by his
men, it becomes a veritable nightmare, the personifi
cation of all that is ghastly and appalling : one
cannot make the words too strong.
Alone in these dense green solitudes, harmless
as they may appear, it is the unknown, the unseen,
that terrifies. Man feels as if he were battling
with an invisible monster even more horrible than
the river, because the latter attacks in the open
and its death stroke is relatively quick, whereas
the forest ensnares its victim in the dark, and
slowly draws its coils tighter, till death comes
as a merciful relief.
On the surface around the tree-tops the forest
is beautiful ; birds and butterflies disport them
selves in the sunshine, nature is seen at her best.
Beneath, away down amongst the roots, it is one
hideous struggle for predominance in the vegetable
world. Man may hack a passage through, but
he cannot compete single-handed against the
unseen ; his track is soon grown over again, and
only by constant work can it be kept reasonably
clear of obstructions. To flounder off the path
is suicide ; it is only a matter of time before he
gets caught in the web that the green monster has
woven about him; each struggle to get free only
entangles him to a worse degree, and robs him of
further powers of resistance. The law of the
263

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
forest is the same as in other walks of life ; victory
goes to the strong, and in this case it is man
who ultimately succumbs.
jThe first few days my desire for food was abso
lutely painful ; nothing could be found, not even
berries or nuts, to satisfy my longing. Then, as
my insides collapsed and became accustomed to
an empty state, a vague drowsy feeling stole over
me that was not disagreeable. My mind, instead
of getting confused, became clear as crystal, and
with no physical exertion to weaken me I could
think with precision on most involved subjects.
Clear as my mind was, it was with the feelings
of a hunted animal that I crouched every night
under my rude shelter of leaves. Back of me lay
the silent forest with its haunting memories, in
front the river, still waiting with diabolical patience.
Which of the two would claim me in the end ? I
knew not, cared not, my only wish was to communi
cate the real details of my misfortune to the outside
world. Mufioz would spread stories abroad that I had
died of fever, or else been killed by savages, and
the thought of it rankled within me. If I could
but inform my friends of what had really occurred,
what cared I about death so long as I willed it. I
would not be drowned by the river or strangled by
the forest. If I was to die at all it would be by
starvation. Life would fade away as the morning
mist at my own bidding. The sensation would
not be unpleasant, now that the keen desire for
food had gone and I was reconciled to an ultimate
conscious death undisturbed by horrors.
During my entire sojourn in this lonely spot
264

A MURATO FAMILY.

A JAGUAR'S VISIT

there was nothing to disturb my peace of mind
except the small flies, and they pestered me to
death during the daytime without intermission.
Small, stingless bees, harmless but daring beyond
belief, also made themselves objectionable. They
would crawl into my ears, up my nose, or walk
over any exposed flesh with the greatest impunity.
So persistent were they in their attentions that
the only way to get rid of them was to slaughter
them wholesale.
Only once had I occasion to be really terrified.
It was at night, when a large jaguar appeared out
of the shadows, walked over my prostrate form,
sniffed about and sat down nearby. I was
literally paralysed with terror and could not move
a muscle. The next morning I was inclined to
consider it a revolting dream, but tracks in the
sand soon disillusioned me on that point and told
their own story.
It rained heavily most of the time, generally at
night, causing an unutterable discomfort both in
mind and body. Drip, drip, drip, on all sides,
hour after hour, with mechanical regularity that
was enough to drive one insane. The last sound
in my ears before going to sleep was the rain dripping
off my shelter. " Thank God," I said, " I am under
cover ; to-morrow it will be fine," and with that
thought I would close my ears to the dismal noise
about me. In the grey hours of early dawn I
would awake to find the rain still falling. For
some time I would lie quiet, listening to the unend
ing patter on the trees. In an hour or so it would
cease, but for thirty minutes water would continue
to drip off every leaf and twig of the forest. Slower
265

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
and slower came the splashes, drip — drop — drip —
drop, till the sun would steal forth from behind
the clouds and I would shuffle off to my usual
position on the gravel -bar to watch the river — to
watch for those Indians who would eventually
come along and rescue me.
So the hours passed, lengthening into days,
until nearly a week had elapsed. Frequently during
that time I thought I saw a canoe come careering
around the bend. For a few moments my hopes
would run high, then disappointment would follow
as I realised my mistake.
On the fifth day there was no doubt about it,
and the long-looked-for canoe was coming; deliver
ance was at hand. Down to the water's edge I
rushed, shouting and waving my arms. Nearer
and nearer it came, a man standing in the stern,
swaying to and fro as his small craft rocked in the
racing waters, but, alas ! it was only another dis
appointment to add to my already long list. It
turned out to be the trunk of a great tree, with a
broken branch sticking up at one end, and I walked
slowly back to my seat.
It began to look as if this indeed was to be my
last resting-place ; nine days had passed since
Mufioz had abandoned me in the forest. I had found
nothing to eat meanwhile. Physically, I was very
much weaker, and the chances of being rescued were
daily becoming more remote. Thanks to keeping
quiet and not getting excited I was still in full
possession of my faculties, and my mind was quite
clear, but this state of affairs could not last inde
finitely. If help did not come soon the tins con
taining the statement of my misfortunes, addressed
266

THE END IN SIGHT

to Colonel Soyer at Iquitos, would have to be
thrown into the river on the chance of being
picked up three hundred or four hundred miles
further down-stream and forwarded to their destin
ation. By this means I never hoped to bring anyone
to my assistance, but I did hope to inform the
outside world of what had happened, and so contra
dict the stories Mufioz would circulate. If I could
but be sure of their doing that I would be satisfied.
Gazing at the river had become a mechanical
habit. I had almost ceased to expect help in any
shape or form, and the prospects of starving to
death no longer caused me any alarm.
I put in the time thinking of my friends and the
pleasant events of long ago. Although the past
was becoming more remote, it seemed to be wrapping
itself up more intimately with the future in a most
remarkable way. It was as if my life was running
backwards, a curious sensation not easily described,
but a feeling somewhat akin to it is experienced
when seated in a train standing still in a station.
On the adjacent track another train starts to move,
you think it is you who are going backwards ; in
reality it is the other train moving forward.
In a similar manner, as I looked at life from the
confined quarters of that gravel-bar, I imagined
my world was going backwards, and that I was
acquiring a new faculty of moving out of time
with my surroundings. Before long the past,
present, and future would all be merged into one —
time would cease to exist, the clock of life would
stop.

267

CHAPTER XIII
On October 6th, while seated as usual on my log,
staring vacantly at the undulating waters of the
river and my thoughts thousands of miles away,
I was startled by defiant shouts from behind.
Swinging round in my seat I saw a party of savages
emerge, as if daring me to come on and fight.
So unmistakably hostile was their attitude that
had my small automatic with its six rounds of
ammunition being available I would have used
it without hesitation. As it was, Providence had
relieved me of it during my march through the
forest, and if I was to save myself now it would only
be by the exercise of friendly tactics.
There was no chance of the Indians springing
a surprise attack, since I was out of range of their
weapons and the gravel-bar afforded them no
cover. It would be a case of fighting out in the
open or not at all. This was decidedly in my
favour, as every move I made would be clearly
seen and less liable to misinterpretation in conse
quence. To have advanced towards this excited
pack of savages, even with friendly intent, would
have been construed as a form of attack ; to have
run away, like an enemy trying to seek cover,
would have been just as bad. Hence there was
nothing else to do but sit absolutely still.
268

ATTACKED BY INDIANS

Have you ever come across a rabbit, when out
shooting, crouching in the grass at your feet and
refusing to bolt ? You try to make it run for
its life and give it a so-called sporting chance —
and if it does, what happens ? Unless you are a
very bad shot it goes to swell the number of the
slain. If that same rabbit had remained passive,
as they often do, you would probably have caught
it alive, put it in your pocket, and taken it home
for the children to play with. Human motives
are the same all the world over — so, like the rabbit,
I refused to run. Just to show them that I was
alive and not up to any tricks, I pointed alternately
to my stomach and my mouth, then hung my head
dejectedly — in plain English, I was tired and hungry.
The Indians stopped their hullabaloo, came a
little nearer, and then retired to the forest to think
matters over ; they had never seen an animal act
like that before, and were not certain what to do.
A few moments later they came out again, and
once more I made signs of being hungry, where
upon one of their party, a little bolder than the
rest, came forward cautiously and held out a toasted
banana. I took the proffered food, and, having
a tattered khaki handkerchief in my pocket, gave
it to him in exchange. This established the fact
that I was a perfect gentleman, and the rest of the
band gathered round without fear. I asked for
more food, but they only waved their hands over
their heads, saying Cashi, meaning to-morrow,
and then unceremoniously slipped off quietly into
the forest.
It was just as well that I had not received a more
bountiful supply at the outset, for the pain caused
288

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
by the solitary banana prying open the shrunken
crevices of my stomach was very great indeed.
It was also fortunate that I had had a handkerchief
handy, since it had helped to cement friendly
relations quicker than anything else. It must be
remembered that savages rarely, if ever, dispose
of their belongings without bargaining for some
thing else in return. If they do appear to make
a present it usually means that they are not parti
cular what they get in exchange — that is to say,
<hey expect " something," but leave it to you as
to what that " something " should be.
About ten o'clock the following day my savage
friends returned again, only this time without
any of the shouting that had characterised their
first appearance. They brought with them a small
supply of yucas, for which I gave them a film tin ;
then when I had eaten they beckoned me to follow
through the forest. We twisted in and out amongst
the trees, working our way by easy stages up the
slope to the .east and down the other side. It
seemed a long walk for my weary bones, but we
took it very leisurely, and finally came upon a
clearing, in the centre of which stood a typical
Aguaruna hut.
My arrival naturally caused quite a flutter of
excitement amongst the colony, and I was quick
to notice how frightened some of them were of
me — the women and children in particular keeping
in the background. Later on I understood the
reason for this. An Indian from another household
came in whom I recognised as one of the men
who had started out with me on the first occasion.
His name was Tehi, and he gave an exhibition of
270

NEW SURROUNDINGS

how I had shaken Mufioz. Some laughed, but
the majority took it very seriously and kept still
further away from me, presumably thinking that I
might break out again at any moment and shake
one of them. A little wholesome respect is always
a desirable spirit to instil in people of any kind,
but when it amounted to fear, as it did in this case,
it was bad, because it made it just so much more
difficult to establish friendly relations with them.
It was strange to see human beings again and
hear them talk, even it what they said was unintelli
gible, but it was stranger still to stretch out on a
rack, and, with my feet over the smouldering embers
of a fire, sleep snug and dry with some assurance of
security. Quarters in the hut were inclined to be
crowded ; including babies there were forty-eight of
us in all, and when this aggregation of humanity
had accommodated itself on eight racks for the night
there was not very much room left for me, and I
soon gravitated to the earthen floor in preference.
This was just as crowded, not with Indians, but
with fleas — small fleas, and well-behaved ones
at that, as they did not bite hard or leap about
unless disturbed. One morning, before I realised
that their numbers were unlimited, I spent half an
hour valiantly trying to clear the place of their
presence. For half an hour I worked steadily,
drowning them in water as fast as I caught them ;
but after getting a total of seventy and finding
that they were still springing about by dozens
I admitted defeat and reconciled myself to the
situation. Under the influence of a little food my physical
strength quickly revived, and innumerable schemes
271

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
for getting to Bellavista suggested themselves to
my active brain. So far as I knew, my belongings
were still lying out in the forest where Mufioz
had abandoned me, and the most essential thing
to do was to retrieve them with the least possible
delay. Without beads or other articles of barter
I could not hope to accomplish very much. My
knowledge of the language was nil, but on the
principle of actions speaking louder than words
I gave an imitation of four Indians carrying packs,
with all the necessary pantomime to indicate place
and time, etc. It was a very successful effort, as
two days later my possessions were brought into
the house safe and sound, none the worse for their
long sojourn in the forest. The bearers who
rescued them were duly rewarded with buttons
and beads, which they wove into artistic collars,
the envy of all their friends.
It was really an extraordinary piece of good
luck to be in possession of all my worldly goods
once more, and the natural impulse was to unpack
everything immediately to see that nothing had
been lost or that mildew was not causing any
damage ; but the Indian is a quaint fellow — if
you spread your possessions out in the sun to dry
he takes it that you want to trade, and, what is
more, he wants everything in sight. The secret
of good trading is not to display your goods, but
to keep them out of sight as much as possible except
for a few articles at a time. It was not an auspicious
moment for me to start negotiations of this kind,
hence I had to leave my bundles wrapped up as
they were and only remove surreptitiously such
things as I needed. Encouraging as it was to be
272

LEARNING A STRANGE LANGUAGE
provided with the sinews of war, I saw that they
alone would not set me free, and if I was to gain
the confidence of my companions sufficiently for
them to be willing to show me the way to the
Chinchipe river, I would have to learn something
of their language. Knowing only a few words
was a serious handicap, and the sooner I extended
my vocabulary the better.
This proved an interesting part of my daily
life and deserves mentioning, as in the opening
stages it was difficult to make my meaning clear.
When a number of men collected I would pick up
a yuca, for example, point to it and say in English,
" This is a yuca ; what do you call it in Aguaruna ? "
For a time there would be silence till some one
more intelligent than the rest would venture the
word "Mama" I wrote it down in my note
book, then took up another yuca, saying in an
enquiring tone, " Mama ? " One of the group
would nod his head and say "Irtah" — from which
I understood then that "Mama " was their name
for yuca and that " Irtah " meant " yes " ; thus
I was able to collect a large assortment of nouns.
With adjectives my task was more difficult. I
took a banana, which was called "pampa," and
biting off a piece ate it with relish, smacked my
lips, held up the fruit and said "Pampa," waiting
for a reply. In a moment or two one of those
present would say " Zamock," which I took to
signify " good " or " ripe." Then I tried a bad
banana, and showing great disgust at its decayed
condition threw it away. " Pampa  " I said,
pausing for the word. " Catzuhan," said a fellow
near by, and, to make sure I understood, quickly
s " 273

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
I repeated " Catzuhan pampa ? " But they all
shook their heads and shouted in chorus, "Atza,
atza, pampa catzuhan ! " (" No, no, banana bad ! ") ;
in other words, adjectives followed their nouns.
When it came to using the words thus learnt
I often found I had made mistakes ; for instance,
" zamock " was not an adjective signifying " good "
or " ripe," but was a noun that meant " a ripe
banana," as against "pampa," which was a green
banana. The word " good," in the sense of good
to eat, was "puingy," while good to look at — that
is, pretty — was " sumamy." With the verbs I
never made much headway, and came to the con
clusion that they were always used in the same
tense. With plurals it was usually a case of repeat
ing the word several times ; " nua," for instance,
being " woman," and " nua, nua," " women."
Complications frequently arose through different
men pronouncing the same word differently :
" pumata," meaning "good-bye," was also pro
nounced "pumate"; and "zvirh," meaning "salt,"
was also pronounced "hui" by some. To make a
complete study of the language would take years
of patient work, for although the Aguarunas are
more or less a distinct tribe, each sub-tribe seems
to have its own peculiarities of speech. Then when
it is remembered that variations occur amongst
members of the same household, the confusion is
so great that it is difficult to say what is right and
what is wrong.
The chief thing which characterised the life of
these wild people was its everlasting monotony ;
one day was exactly like the next, seldom did any
thing happen which was of particular interest,
274

THE DAILY ROUND

and the one all-important occupation was the
unending hunt for food. Bananas and yucas were
cultivated near the habitation, and every morning
at six the entire household sallied forth with baskets
to collect what it needed to keep body and soul
together. If the day were fine the majority of
the men would go off by themselves to hunt in
the forest, and leave the women and children to
grub about the clearing as they pleased. The
morning usually ended with a great deal of talking
and very little real work being done. At noon
every one staggered back with a load of something
or another to eat, and the one real meal of the day
was prepared. In the evening the second repast
took place, consisting of what was left over from
the first ; then, as darkness descended, every one
retired to the racks to sleep.
The afternoon was looked upon as the correct
time for conferences or visits. The women fre
quently occupied themselves with odd jobs, such
as preparing " nija-manchi," or " masata " — an
intoxicating beverage usually kept on hand for
consumption at odd moments. The men talked,
spun thread, or did anything else they pleased.
If there was no rain they might put in a little extra
time hunting or fishing, but usually they slipped
off in twos and threes to neighbouring huts to
discuss events with their friends. If the weather
was bad it was not unusual for them to lie back
on their racks and discourse music of a kind on a
little flute made out of cane. The instrument
had only four apertures at its lower end, and one
would think that it was capable of producing
several tunes at least, but so far as I could make out
275

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
there was only one, which everybody played — a
sort of " National Anthem." As no two instru
ments were pitched in the same key, the discord,
when several played together, was painful to a degree.
From the foregoing remarks it might be considered
that the men were very lazy and allowed all the work
to fall on the shoulders of their womenfolk. This,
however, was far from the case. Each sex had its
own distinctive duties, and the work the women
performed was not arduous. The men cleared
the forest for planting, brought in the logs for the
fires — and fighting, of course, was another important
duty which they alone concerned themselves with.
The women were far from busy all the time ; they
enjoyed long hours of idleness, or else pottered
round with trifling matters of no consequence.
One task to which men devoted a few moments of
their leisure, and one that struck me as peculiarly
inappropriate, was the spinning of thread from
wild cotton and the weaving of primitive loin
cloths such as they wore.
Near to each rack stood a post with a bundle of
wild cotton tied to it about five feet from the ground
and with a small hand-spindle, for making thread,
hung just below it. It amused me very much to
see a hefty Indian enter the house, sit down on his
wooden bench and make several yards of thread
by way of diversion. The skill with which they
manipulated it was really wonderful, but they soon
tired of the work. The most energetic in this
respect were the younger men, and they spun
away for hours at a stretch. When a budding
warrior had made himself a couple of loin-cloths,
and possibly an extra one for some future wife, his
276

CLOTHING

energy flagged. That was a good life's work for
any respectable Indian, and he could afford to
rest from his toil.
Clothing, such as it was, had but one use, arid
that was to protect the wearer against flies and
other insects that bite. Whenever we got caught out
in the rain, all garments would be promptly removed
and wrapped up carefully in leaves, so as not to
get wet. The same way with dancing — it was a
case of undressing rather than dressing up for the
ball. Cotton was not the only material from which
clothes were made ; a much more simple article
was the bark of a tree they called " camuch." The
first time I saw a fellow belabouring a large piece
of this bark with a cudgel I was greatly perplexed
as to what his object could have been. After care
fully hammering away for hours the stiff bark
became flexible, and in time expanded into a nice
soft strip of fibrous material.
Within a few days after my rescue by the Indians
I was quite on my feet again and able to explore
the surrounding country. The Maranon was not
far away from the house, and some of the hills to
the east had a familiar look about them. Taking
all things into consideration, the Ipicus must have
been about a mile further down-river. A short
distance up-stream was a very bad cataract, which
the Indians would not attempt to negotiate in their
canoes, and it was for this reason that none had
passed by my gravel-bar during the many days
I was stranded there.
In spare moments I found great relief in reading
my Spanish edition of " The Hound of the Basker-
villes," which had been given me in Barranca,
277

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
and which had been amongst the things saved from
the whirlpool. This strange existence with a pack
of Indians was so unnatural that I was glad of some
thing tangible to remind me of the world such as I
knew, and I read the book over and over again
with avidity.
Now that my strength had returned and I was
able to travel, I started overtures for continuing
on my way towards Bellavista, but I was up against
a blank wall, and wisely gave up all thought of
trying to move until I was on more friendly terms.
With this idea in view I made a point of joining
in every excursion to neighbouring houses so as
to widen my circle of acquaintances and thoroughly
identify myself with Aguaruna society.
None of the huts in the district were visible
from the river ; the clearings were set well back
and the paths leading to them were obscure and
broken. This was done intentionally, so that
marauding Indians from other tribes would have
greater difficulty in seeking them out. Many
times, when out hunting, we would visit outlying
habitations so securely hidden that we would be on
top of them before I was aware of their existence.
There were so many of them that it made me wonder
how it was I had happened to miss stumbling across
one in my walk through the woods; but when I
became familiar with the different families, instead
of there being about twenty houses — as I had
imagined — I found there were only six. The
reason for my mistake was simple enough ; all
the houses looked very much alike, and as we
generally approached them by different routes
it took many visits before I realised that it was
278

INSERTING A POISONED DART INTO A BLOW-GUN.

THE DEADLY BLOW-GUN

always the same house we kept on visiting. This
group of habitations lay on the western side of the
valley drained by the Ipicus. On the other side of
the ridge (where I had walked) it was quite unin
habited country.
To live with people such as these was particu
larly interesting to me, because I did not come
amongst them as one trying to teach, but more as
a pupil trying to learn, and without doubt I learnt
much. What afforded me the most enjoyment
was to go off when the weather was good with one
or two men and meander through the leafy shadows
of the forest in search of game.
The two weapons used were the spear and the
deadly blow-gun ; of the two the blow-gun was
possibly the more useful, since the spear was for
killing larger animals, such as tapirs, which frequent
the more open ground. The blow-guns that I
saw were made with remarkable precision from two
strips of chonta palm- wood, symmetrically grooved
out, bound together and finished off with a variety
of gum on the outside. Sometimes the mouth
piece was made of bone, otherwise the wood was
left plain and fashioned to suit the tastes of the
individual. The darts were merely slim splinters
of wood about eight inches long, poisoned at the
tip. Before inserting them in the mouthpiece
one or two wads of wild cotton would be wound
on the back end, so as to make an airtight fit in the
tube. The gun was not held in what one would
assume to be the most natural position, namely,
with one hand close to the mouth and the other
supporting the weapon as near its centre as possible,
but both hands were kept close to the mouth -piece,
279

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
and in this apparently awkward position the
long tube was aimed. A good puff of air from
the lungs of the operator and the dart would be
driven out of the tube. The velocity being low,
it described a very appreciable arc in its flight
through space, which meant a high angle of fire and
consequently great difficulty in aiming.
The unerring accuracy with which these men
could shoot eighty to one hundred feet away was
marvellous, and I saw them actually strike a monkey
in mid-air as it leaped from one branch to another.
It is not necessary for the dart to penetrate deep
into the flesh of the animal ; so long as it scratches
the skin and draws blood the poison does the rest.
Within a minute or two the victim dies a painless
death from paralysis of the heart. Now comes the
most interesting fact : the animal so killed can be
eaten without fear, as the poison, when taken
internally, has no effect — only when it enters
through the blood is the result fatal. One of the
most difficult tasks when hunting in the forest is
not to kill your quarry, but to find it after it has
fallen into the dense underbrush round the roots
of trees. Sometimes we spent as much as an hour
searching for a bird that had been killed, and then
again, look as we might, not a trace of it could
be found.
My constant companion was a man called Tehi,
and his attachment was chiefly the result of thinking
me a great medicine-man, or the equivalent of it.
He lived in another large oval hut three-quarters
of a mile away, which belonged to his father and
was crowded to overflowing with brown humanity.
One day, while visiting his establishment, his
§80

WOMEN

wife complained of evil spirits in her head. I
at once thought of my medicine-box and wondered
if aspirin might drive the evil spirits out. I went
back and got some, giving her a single tablet with
a little water and food. Within an hour she was
smiling and laughing away as good as the rest of
them. It proved a red-letter day for me; not
only did it make Tehi my faithful friend, but it
was the first step towards getting on really friendly
terms with the tribe.
In my dealings with the women I had to use
unusual caution. The men were extraordinarily
jealous of their wives, and to have even smiled
on one might have been enough to start trouble.
I was not in a position to take any chances, and
during my entire sojourn in the wilds not once
did I speak to one, and even went so far as to avoid
looking at them if possible. When we were squatted
round on the floor for a pow-wow I would seek a
position such that no woman would be in front of
me. If a woman put food before me I never looked
up and nodded " Thanks," but remained impassive
as the Indians did. If I showed any sense of
pleasure at all I would look towards the head of
the household and wave my hand as if to say
" Much obliged."
On the whole the women were not bad looking,
and being rather scarce were in great demand — no
matter what their age. The older ones had fine
faces, with a kind, intelligent look about their eyes
which more than compensated for any physical
defects which follow in the train of old age. Their
feet were the worst part of them — as a result of
carrying heavy loads in their youth, they were
281

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
inclined to be flat and turned inwards. Some of
the young women were really quite pretty ; one
in particular I recall, whose name was Panaguna :
she was a most attractive little creature, small of
stature, well formed, very light brown skin, and
masses of long black hair hanging over her shoulders.
When all was said and done I do not think looks
counted for much in the matrimonial market ;
good health and ability to work were probably
more important ; yet, for all that, I do not see how
any of the young braves could have remained
insensible to the charm of Panaguna 's laughing eyes.
Romance — although not unknown to the Indians
— seldom plays an important part in their relations
with each other. It would be extremely difficult
to say what their ideas on marriage were ; but in
the case of a young man just starting life, an
imaginary incident, such as the following, might
well take place : —
Atashu, a prosperous warrior, has just had the
good fortune of having an old sister thrown back
on his hands through the death of her husband,
and is quick to take advantage of the situation to
improve his own position. Nearby lives Papingy,
an older man who has a son of marriageable age,
to say nothing of a young unmarried daughter.
One afternoon Atashu pays a visit to his friend,
and after a good drink of masata remarks — in
rather an offhand way — that he would like to take
his host's daughter into his own establishment.
"I ara quite prepared," he adds, " to give you
my old sister in return."
" What ! " says the old man, " your sister in
return for my daughter — not a bit of it ! "
282

A MATRIMONIAL BARGAIN
But Atashu is quite prepared for this, and gazing
in any direction other than that of the man he is
talking to, continues unabashed: "Of course, I
know she is a bit long in the tooth, but she is a
marvel of domestic virtue — you don't know how
big and strong she is. . . . Why, she cuts bananas
wonderfully ! — and you should just see her pull
up yucas ! I tell you she works better than anyone
else in my household and would make an ideal
wife for your son."
Papingy listens attentively to the discourse, and
turns the matter over in his mind in silence ; he
probably makes a rough calculation — the woman
is twenty-seven years old, that means twelve more
years of useful life at the most, three or four children
might be expected — no, it is not such a bad idea ;
a capable woman for his son would be an asset to
the household, but he is not altogether convinced,
and needs further persuading.
The pause had been rather a long one, and Atashu
starts afresh, only on a new tack this time : " That
daughter of yours," he says scornfully, " is very
young, she may die ; how do I know what she
will develop into ? It is like buying a pig in a
poke. Heaven only knows what will happen to
her five years from now. I am really taking a
terrible risk in letting my sister go at all." Then,
changing his tone, he continues : " My eldest
wife will soon be dead ; I need a little new blood
in the family, some one young to replace her, so I
am willing to take a chance."
" All right," answers Papingy dispassionately,
and in a dreary voice adds — " bring your old sister
round here and we will settle the bargain." So
283

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the matter is disposed of and the son takes unto
himself a wife — the strong lady who digs yucas
and cuts bananas better than anyone else in
the brown society of the Aguaruna world — and
Papingy 's daughter is initiated into the mysteries
of Atashu 's establishment.
A man with many women to dispose of is looked
upon as rich, but the one who has not any is worse
than poor, for he usually ends by stealing one — a
crime on a par with stealing bananas, for which
the punishment is death — that is to say, if he is
caught. War naturally follows in the footsteps
of the thief, which extends to his family, and may
embroil many innocent people. It is not war
between distinct tribes which reduces the power
of these aboriginal races so much as the incessant
fighting amongst themselves. There seems to be
no cohesion, and feuds between families living in
different parts of the river are unending. As
might be supposed, the chief — if not the only —
cause of all trouble is— WOMAN.
Like other commodities women sometimes
become scarce, and then they have to be hunted
for amongst neighbouring tribes, resulting in tribal
wars of a very sanguinary nature. Sometimes,
as already stated, it is only one man who has no
female relations to give in exchange for a wife
and who is forced into stealing one ; it is then
that a family feud follows. The thief's method
is to wait for an opportune moment when the
river is in flood, and then, with his canoe in readiness,
carrying a few banana shoots and yucas for planting,
he slips off with the woman of his choice. Together
they repair to some remote section of the forest,

SHRUNKEN HUMAN HEAD.

SHRUNKEN HUMAN HEAD BEFORE
LIPS HAVE BEEN SEWN UP.

SHRUNKEN HEAD, LIPS
SEWN UP.

SHRINKING HUMAN HEADS
where it is difficult to find them, and start life on
their own account, only to be tracked down at
some later date by the furious relations of the
woman. The feud may be carried on for years
and carried from one generation to another, or it
may end in the thief being killed within a few months
and the woman restored to her own home.
Under no consideration are women ever killed ;
they are far too valuable and are carefully preserved,
no matter what tribe they belong to. This results
in a wide infusion of blood amongst the different
tribes and accounts for the variety of facial charac
teristics seen on all sides. Seldom does a tribe
keep its individuality ; mixtures are almost
invariably found, and even the customs of one
will spread to another. The further one probes
into their habits the more confusing and perplexing
it is to draw definite lines of demarcation between
any of the dwellers of the forest who are within
warring distance of each other.
The Aguarunas, in common with other tribes,
have the habit of cutting off the heads of their
enemies when dead, removing the skull and reducing
what remains to the size of an orange, preserving
the features and the hair so well that, if carefully
done, there is nothing except size to distinguish
the final dried-up diminutive from the original.
There are various ways of doing this : after the
skull has been removed, the embers from a fire,
along with hot pebbles and certain herbs which
have peculiar astringent qualities, are inserted and
allowed to cool gradually. It is a slow process,
which has to be frequently repeated, and requires
considerable skill to preserve the features intact.
285

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
To give them a nice finished look they are after
wards smoked black, polished, and frequently
painted with a red dye.
With this gruesome token hanging round his
neck the victor feels pretty certain that his enemy
is dead, but before putting the finishing touches to
the trophy there is one very important ceremony
which, if neglected, might lead to trouble ; the
conqueror places the head in front of him and
curses it from one end of the alphabet to the other,
but he does not want any back-chat from the
spirit of the departed, so he takes the pre
caution of sewing the lips up tightly with long
threads of fibre, which are left dangling down a
foot or more and ornamented with feathers. The
dead man is now out of harm's way, for there is
his head, and with the lips permanently sealed his
spirit has nothing more to say.
Whether it was thanks to a good appetite or not,
I do not know, but the daily menu of yucas and
bananas, if well prepared, never palled on me.
Green bananas take about five hours to digest,
whereas ripe ones only take two hours. For this
reason the natives suppose them to be more
nutritious when green ; be that as it may, my
preference was certainly for the ripe ones. Unlike
the fruit such as we are accustomed to see in
England, the vegetable banana is not pleasing to
eat raw, even when ripe, but boiled or baked any
time after the skin has turned -yellow it is extremely
tasty and palatable.
With the Indians it was a case of feast or famine ;
food was not plentiful, and when there was a surplus
there was no way of preserving it for the future.
286

MONKEY'S MEAT FOR A CHANGE
They picked their bananas green, and they never
got a chance of getting ripe, since hungry mouths
were always open to be fed. As I preferred them
ripe, I used to trade for bunches in return for
various odds and ends, and then hang them up in
the dark where they would ripen quickly. On
no occasion was a bunch ever touched after it had
become my property, which speaks a good deal
for the ways of the savage, since food with him
has the value of money in more civilised countries.
Whenever I peeled a ripe banana for cooking the
children would pick up the skin after I had thrown
it away and eat it. From consuming so much raw
food — especially food of this kind — their stomachs
became very much distended, and remained so until
they arrived at more discreet years and were more
particular what they ate.
Occasionally I had a variety of sweet potato
that was excellent, and twice after a successful
day's fishing the whole colony stuffed itself with
boiled fish. No food kept very long in the heat,
and the fish, if not smoked, had to be eaten at
once ; even when thoroughly dried they would
only last four or five days, and then the ants would
get after them. The process of smoking was
simplicity itself ; a rack, called a pungamo, was
made from green twigs over a fire and the fish
laid out on it, while the wood beneath was allowed
to smoke freely hour after hour.
Once in a while we indulged in the luxury of
monkey's meat, or " yacum," as they called it.
They were usually small, and when the fur had
been singed off and the body placed over the fire
to roast, it looked very much like a human baby.
287

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
Under pressure of hunger looks did not worry
me, but the toughness of the meat was a little
trying to the jaws.
One day Cashipa, the head of the household
in which I lived, brought down a small monkey
with his blow-gun. It was exceptionally tough,
and in the evening, as we sat round the fire, he
tore off a hind leg from the carcase and handed
it to me, after first making quite a meal on it himself.
Nothing daunted I gnawed away on it for a minute
or two, and as I could not make much headway
either, handed it on to some one else to chew ;
and so it went the rounds of the company. The
last I saw of it, a small child was wrestling with
the succulent morsel in a dark corner ; it was of
the consistency of rubber, and the sharpest teeth
made little impression on it.
There was yet another strange delicacy which
defeated me completely ; it was by way of being
a caterpillar, or, more correctly speaking, a white
grub, two inches to three inches long, that burrowed
into the trunk of a certain palm-tree. They were
usually collected by the women, and, often as
not, eaten raw. I could not face them this way
at any price, but I did persuade myself to sample
them cooked. A dozen or more were stuck on a
green bamboo splinter and toasted in the embers
of a fire until they were of a ruddy brown colour.
When well cooked they were distributed amongst
the family. Mashu-Wiha instructed me in the
art of eating them ; the head was first pulled off,
and then, squeezing with the fingers from the tail
up, the meat issued forth like tooth-paste from a
tube — a greenish yellow colour of none too inviting
288

FINGER BOWLS

an appearance. It had a distinct flavour to which
I could never become accustomed, and for ever
after, when toasted caterpillars were served, I
passed them by.
The Aguarunas are very cleanly in their habits,
and after a meal has been served one of the women
likely as not brings round a large, hollow gourd full
of water to wash with. It is a primitive conception
of the modern finger-bowl, and particularly desir
able at a feast where everything is eaten with the
hands. On the first occasion I refused the proffered
bowl, thinking it was masata to drink, but I watched
Cashipa, who took a huge mouthful, which, for
some reason, he did not swallow. The next instant
he blew half of it out of his mouth over his hands,
rubbing them well, and then blew the remainder
on them to rinse them off thoroughly. The final
touch was to dry his hands on his long black hair,
which he afterwards combed carefully for several
minutes. This was the regular procedure which
followed any meal.
One afternoon, while I was reading as usual in
the hut, a man whom I had not seen before slipped
in through the narrow doorway, and, without
salutation to anyone, lay down on a rack, cocked
one leg over the other, and with an unceremonious
grunt of satisfaction went to sleep. He was
evidently thoroughly disgusted with life, which
was not surprising, seeing that outside the rain
was coming down heavily and the household had
reconciled itself to remaining under cover for
the rest of the day, if not for several days. It
was one of those unending downpours such as I
was only too familiar with ; the drops fell vertically
T 289

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
from a leaden sky, bringing down all the gloom and
melancholy of eternity with them. In an hour or
two the Ipicus would be swollen into a brawling
mass of chocolate-coloured liquid ; the main river
also would be racing along faster than ever, thick
as pea-soup, and covered with debris of all kinds.
How well I knew what it would look like — had I
not watched it for hours at a time, crouched under
my shelter near its banks, not more than a week
or two ago ? The sound of the rain brought back
those memories, and being unpleasant ones I
tried to drive them away by reading industriously
ot Sherlock Holmes and how he unravelled the
mystery which surrounded " The Hound of the
Baskervilles." The entrance of Swengy — for such was the
visitor's name — caused no comment ; he must
have been a frequent visitor, for no one paid any
attention to his arrival; maybe they were too
sleepy — at any rate, it was not etiquette to ask
questions. Within the dwelling the atmosphere
was rather thick ; a strong smell of smoked fish
still hung about, which accounted for the lethargy
of the men — they had eaten well and were now
resting from their labours.
Three women sat near the centre of the hut
around a large earthen pot, preparing masata —
mechanically chewing the boiled yuca and spitting
the material, after it had been well masticated,
into another vessel. Panaguna was one of them,
and when Swengy came in she looked up for a
second, her brown eyes sparkling as usual. She
made some remark to the other women, but they
paid no heed to her and continued their task as
290

THE ARRIVAL OF SWENGY
if nothing had happened. The only other piece
of animated intelligence in the hut was Hapa-Nini,
one of the younger men, who, despite his heavy
meal of fish, was so busy spinning cotton that he
paid no attention to anything else. Presently
even he hung up his spindle, stretched, and sat
down on the foot of his rack, as if ready to take a
well-earned rest.
His movements brought Swengy back to life ;
he sat up promptly and produced a wallet, exclaim
ing something in Aguaruna at the same time which
I could not understand. Its effect on the house
hold was electric ; every one got up and crowded
round the visitor, gesticulating and talking all at
once. I remained on the outside of the group
wondering what the subject was that was being
discussed in such a lively way. Curiosity got the
better of me, and at the first opportunity I squeezed
in amongst them to see what all the talk was about.
Hapa-Nini was holding in his hand a most
gruesome relic — an Indian's head, dried up and
shrivelled to the size of an orange. From all I
could gather the head was that of a relative who
had been killed in some fighting with another
tribe. Swengy, with others, had just returned
from a successful counter-raid, and had rescued
the head of the deceased from adorning the girdle
of his slayer. This was the story, so far as I could
piece it together from my fragmentary knowledge
of the language. Tehi came in later and told me
that another expedition on a large scale was con
templated to avenge the death of the slain, but
before any action could be taken the matter would
have to be slept over. To me this seemed an
291

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
excessively wise precaution, as I had no wish to
have my friends plunged into warfare if, through
deliberation, it might be avoided.
The process of sleeping over the matter was
revealed to me the next day, and was hardly what I
expected. At an early hour, while it was still
raining, the young men went out in the forest
and collected the stalks of a creeping vine, or
bejuco, which was called " ayahuasca" ; these were
brought back to the hut, scraped thoroughly and
broken into short lengths, which were put to boil
in a large pot of water. All day long the con
coction simmered over the fire, and at regular
intervals the tundai, or signal drum, would be
beaten violently. At about 5.30 the men of the
household collected and stood in front of a light
shelf made of cane specially prepared for the
occasion, about four feet high. Cashipa, Mashu-
Wiha, Hapa-Nini, and Swengy were lined up with
the rest of them, and, with spears in hand, the
ceremony which was to determine the fate of the
tribe began.
The coffee-coloured liquid from the pot was
poured out into a number of little bowls and set
before each warrior ; then, as the drumming on
the tundai ceased, they broke into weird barbaric
chant that still rings in my ears ; it stopped abruptly
within a few minutes and the men let forth blood
curdling yells, shaking their spears over their heads
at the same time ; then, planting their weapons
in the ground, each seized his respective bowl and
drank the contents at one gulp. The next pro
cedure was to put their fingers in their mouths
and vomit it all up again. Bowls were refilled, and
292

THE CEREMONY OF AYAHUASCA
the wild chant started afresh ; this was repeated
over and over again, till those that had taken
part in the ceremony, thoroughly exhausted and
stupefied, staggered to their racks and went to sleep.
There were some strange noises to be heard that
night, as the men under the influence of the
ayahuasca raved in their sleep, supposedly dreaming
of their enemies. If there had been many such
performances I should have gone insane ; had I
had a companion it would not have been so bad,
but alone amongst such monstrous surroundings
I began to doubt my very existence.
It was alarming to think what the results might
be of sleeping over such an important matter as
going to war, and it looked to me as if the issue
could only take one turn. But I was mistaken ;
the unanimous verdict the following morning was
that the time was not auspicious to embark on such
an enterprise, and they would have to wait until
the spirit of Ayahuasca looked upon the venture
with more favourable eyes. I was thankful that
for a time, at any rate, war had been so narrowly
averted, and I gave the spirits of Ayahuasca full
credit for their wise counsels.

293

CHAPTER XIV
Before I had lived very long with the Aguaruna
Indians I had learnt many secrets of their fireside
and was looked upon as a tribal incumbent of a
very desirable kind. The fear in which they
originally held me had completely given way to
a feeling of profound respect, and in the case of
the family with whom I lived to one of pride that
such a wonderful man should sojourn under their
roof. Cashipa 's own feelings were tempered with a
sense of ownership, since it was he who had found
me on the river bank, and it was he who had
launched me into Aguaruna society. The logical
inference was that it was he who was deriving all
the benefit of my power to drive out evil spirits.
Whether he actually hired out my services or not
I am not sure, but I had my suspicions that he
did ; at any rate, his household was reaping the
advantage of the trade jl was doing with them,
which in itself was elevating them to the enviable
position of being that of the most prosperous in
the community. I moved in and out of the house
as I pleased — a welcome guest on the most friendly
terms|possible. JThe children no longer|'ran^away
from me and hid behind their mothers, but came
forward as if asking to see more new tricks such
294

A VIRTUAL PRISONER

as I frequently indulged in for their special
edification. The moment I felt that the confidence of the
entire household was mine I once more broached
the subject of my journey, spreading out a few of
my trinkets and proclaiming my desire to get
three Indians to go with me to the Chinchipe river.
In vain I waited for offers — not a soul came forward ;
I increased the price to almost everything I possessed,
but still they remained apathetic to my appeal. A
day or two later I tried again, with no better results,
so that I sat down, after herculean efforts, completely
baffled and mystified by their reluctance to assist me.
There was no question about our being on
friendly terms — every one smiled and laughed at
my efforts to induce them to join in a trip, yet it
was painfully evident that no help was forthcoming,
and I began to figure out how long I could go on
living in luxury, paying for all my food, and generally
acting as a great man. Of beads, buttons, and
needles I had none left ; other articles were also
on the wane ; medicines, too, would be exhausted
shortly, and the moment that day came my power
to influence evil spirits would cease, and then
friendliness might swing round to savagery.
I pondered over the situation for some time
in every detail, until it began to dawn on me that
the refusal — for the moment, at any rate — was only
prompted by over-friendly motives ; in my efforts
to win their regard I had surpassed my expecta
tions, and now they did not want to lose me. They
saw no reason for my going ; we were all happy
together — why should I wish to go? what other
place was there to go to ? No, their unwillingness
' " 298

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
to accompany me was not hostility, but tantamount
to saying, " Please stay with us a little longer."
This was all very well, but«I saw how impossible
it was to remain ; furthermore, my anxiety to get
away was becoming an obsession, and the unreality
of the life I led was getting on my nerves. Imagine
sleeping every night on the floor of a small hut
housing forty-eight naked savages, eating with my
fingers, like an animal, washing with sand, talking
in grunts, or else waving my arms about like a
lunatic to help convey my ideas to the childlike
intellects around me ! The strain of the past few
months was also beginning to tell. Could I go on
standing such abnormal surroundings and yet
keep my sanity?
In efforts to distract my thoughts into different
channels I read and re-read " The Hound of the
Baskervilles " till I almost knew it by heart ; I
also spent a good deal of time making friends with
the numerous pets which the Indians kept in
the house. A gaudy macaw, two tucans, a night
monkey, and a baby peccary were amongst them,
and what appealed to me was that, like myself,
they were free to come and go as they pleased ;
they were not tied up, and the birds had not
even their wings clipped. The macaw was a
wise old fellow, and would sometimes absent
himself all day long in the forest, but he would
come home to roost in the evening without
fail. Like a flash of flame tearing through space
he would fly from the edge of the clearing
into the hut and take up his usual position for the
night like any other member of the household.
The tucans were extraordinarily comic and agile ;
296

p

A NIGHT MONKEY

A TUCAN

 PETS 
I do not think I have ever seen such amusing
birds. The night monkey also was very enter
taining ; he lived up in the rafters and never got
up till four in the afternoon, but he was a friendly
little chap, scampered all over the place, and had
not the slightest fear of anyone. The baby peccary's
peculiarity was that he behaved exactly like a dog,
slept near his master's rack, and whenever he
went out the peccary would follow at heel, stopping
when he stopped, and going on again when his
master did.
No matter how much time I would spend on
such diversions, my thoughts invariably came back
sooner or later as to how I was to get away to civilisa
tion. How was I to convey to these savage people
my overwhelming desire to move on to other parts ?
It was a question that puzzled me, as I failed to
see any line of argument they would be capable
of understanding. To say that I had pressing
business reasons, or wanted to go to England >
would have been so much Greek ; their brain
was not sufficiently developed to understand any
thing except the most rudimentary ideas.
Some gauge of their mentality can be gathered
when I say that a photograph meant nothing to
them ; they were no more capable of understand
ing what it represented than an animal. I had
tried once showing them a photograph of some
Jibaro Indians, which were in general appearance
identical to the Aguarunas, but they turned the
picture upside down, on its side, looked at the back
of it, and, with an inscrutable expression of blank-
ness, handed it back as if to say, " That may be
very interesting, but what is it all about ? " It
297

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
   — ¦  ¦¦'"-'    '¦
sounds incredible that, without movement or per
spective, a picture conveyed nothing to them, and
had it been one of themselves they would not have
recognised it as such, any more than a dog would
if you had shown him a photo of himself. It was
with people on such a low plane of mental develop
ment as this that I had to deal, and how to impart
to them the complicated thought that it was impor
tant for me to go to the Chinchipe river at once
was a task that taxed my own mental resources
to the limit.
There was still another difficulty staring me in
the face — stocks were getting low, and I was reduced
to manufacturing articles from all sorts of odds and
ends which remained behind in order to buy food.
Had I had any more beads I don't suppose they
would have commanded much of a market, seeing
that every one was well provided with this com
modity. I was therefore put to it to devise novelties
that would appeal to my friends. Dame Fashion
seemed to sway the minds of men and women much
the same way in the wilds of the Amazon as she
does in Paris or anywhere else. The Indians
valued their ornaments because of their gaudy
colour, the jingle they made, or because they were
unique. It was only on the latter score of novelty
that I could hope to interest them; hence it was
not surprising that my wrecked camera brought
me in a lot of business.
It was a reflecting one, so, of course, the mirror
was of great value. Springs, metal binding strips,
brass screws, and all kinds of fittings provided me
with a regular supply of food for a considerable
time. I traded the long spiral spring alone for
298

THE VALUE OF THINGS

four bunches of bananas. It needed a little
scheming and planning, but the parts mentioned
lent themselves to ear-rings and other ornaments
which were quite new to these simple people.
Once I indiscreetly threw out the red paper
backing of a Kodak film ; it was pounced upon
by a child and ended on the head of Cashipa, who
strutted round with it as proud as a peacock, until
a gust of wind carried it away. That gave me
another idea to work on ; I had several hundreds
of feet of motion picture film, and by looping
twelve or fifteen feet of it together into a large
ring and weaving fibre through the perforations,
it made a splendid crown ; with a feather stuck
vertically at the back it proved irresistible. Yet
another successful ornament was made out of the
round metal ends taken off the spools upon which
Kodak films are wound ; these flat discs I joined
together like so many coins into a necklace.
While the aforementioned articles brought me
in a bountiful supply of food so long as they laste J,
it was not through trading that I gained the goodwill
of the community, but through medicines. It was
my ability to allay their pains that established my
reputation throughout the length and breadth of
the forest as a great personage. I have already
mentioned how my friendship with Tehi started
through curing his wife of a headache. This was
not the only time I applied medicines with beneficial
results ; it was a common complaint to have evil
spirits in the head, and before I left most of the
colony, and many strangers, had come under my
treatment with equal success.
I well remember my consternation when the
299

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
stock of aspirin began to run low, and I was con
fronted with the very embarrassing position of not
being able to effect any more cures. I had laboured
under the delusion that there was still the contents of
another bottle to draw upon, but at the last moment
discovered that it was quinine and not aspirin, as
I thought. Something had to be done, so I resorted
to faith-curing for a change, and substituted the
quinine tablets in place of the aspirin ; they had
deceived me, so it was not likely that the Indians
would be much the wiser, especially since they
were white and bitter. Under the circumstances,
it was far better policy to administer quinine rather
than nothing at all. To my surprise the evil spirits
had just as strong an objection to the latter as they
had to the former, and when quinine also began to
get scarce I had no hesitation in substituting some
thing else again. This time it was bicarbonate
of soda tablets which came to the rescue, and it
must be admitted that their effect on the patient
was every bit as satisfactory.
Permanganate of potash was yet another article
which brought me fame. To amuse the children
I concealed a small crystal of it under my finger
nail and then immersed it in clear water, bidding
them watch carefully. The older people were
very much more startled than the youngsters to
see the beautiful magenta colour diffuse itself
throughout the Jiquid, and thought it was some
new form of magic I was practising.
For disinfecting cuts and sores, of which the
Indians had plenty, and which, through lack of
care, sometimes got into a terrible state, perman
ganate of potash was invaluable. One man was
300

NO WORK, NO FOOD

suffering from a bad abrasion on the leg caused
by a fall ; it never seemed to heal, so I washed it
well with a strong solution. The result was so
satisfactory that Indians whom I had never seen
before came from remote parts of the woods to
have their sores cleansed. On each occasion quite
a formal reception was held, in which all the
household joined — Cashipa, of course, officiating
as master of the ceremonies.
So long as it was possible to work miracles,
or trade for food in the way I was doing, I could
have gone on living with these Indians indefinitely ;
but the minute I should fail to keep my end up I
would have been obliged to dig yucas and hunt
with the rest of them, or else starve to death just
the way any of the old people did who could no
longer do their share of work. Altruism has no
place in the lives of those who dwell in the jungle.
When men or women cease to be self-supporting,
or become incapable of carrying on their respective
duties, death follows as a natural consequence.
Not only do the strong fail to support the weak,
but in many cases they go so far as to hasten their
departure into the next world with the aid of a
little poison such as they use on their blow-gun
darts, or other concoctions which they are expert
at preparing.
Old people are rarely seen ; I saw but two
during a whole year's travelling — a man and a
woman. The former was vigorous despite his
years and able to do a day's work, but the woman
(she belonged to Tehi's household) was a pitiable
sight — a crinkled heap of worn-out old age. Unable
to work, she only fed when there was a surplus of
301

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
food, and that was very seldom ; how she ever
kept going at all on the scraps the other women
sometimes gave her on the sly I cannot imagine ;
but she hung on tenaciously to her miserable exist
ence until one day she was seen no more. To my
enquiries Tehi pointed significantly in the direction
of the river — death by drowning was better than
starvation. The Cashibo Indians are reputed to
take greater care of their old relatives — systematically
killing them and banqueting off the corpse, so as to
properly assimilate the virtues of the deceased.
While it is not unusual amongst many of these
tribes to assist their relations out of the world as
soon as their span of usefulness is completed, the
young ones receive precious little encouragement
when coming into it. From earliest infancy, when
the newly-born child is treated to a cold plunge
in the river, it has to lead a Spartan-like existence
in every sense of the word. Weaklings soon
succumb and only the very robust survive. The
slightest symptoms of bad health are attributed
to evil spirits and receive drastic treatment ; such
a fate befell a small boy in Cashipa 's household
just before I arrived. He had contracted some
curious disease of the eyes which was regarded
in the light of an evil omen of such a serious char
acter that he was strung up to a tree in a remote
corner of the forest and left to die.
Another curious practice of the Murato Indians
is that of drowning a newly-born infant if its sex
is not in accordance with the parents' wishes.
Fortunately the parents do not always express
their desires, but should they do so and disap
pointment follows, the offending babe is hurled
302

THE SPIRITS OF THE FOREST
into the river without further ceremony. The
river is the natural burying ground, but if an
Aguaruna is killed in action they mummify the
body, wrap it up in bark and place it in the centre
of the hut on a stand, as an object of veneration.
With some tribes it is customary to abandon a
hut altogether when a death occurs in the family,
burying the body in the centre. A new hut is
then built, and the old one left for the spirit of the
deceased to dwell in.
One is prone to laugh at the savage's idea of
evil spirits, yet a close observer cannot fail to
observe the existence of something intangible at
the very root of life in the woods which may well
account for their superstition. If there is any
foundation at all for believing houses in civilised
countries to be haunted by the spirits of those
who have come to violent ends within their walls,
there is still greater reason for believing the same
of the great Amazon forests. It is within the
realm of scientific possibility that the circum
stances surrounding the tragic deaths of so many
human beings in these gloomy solitudes are enacted
night after night, till the mental forces which have
set them in motion have subsided in the mystical
sea of eternity. On no other grounds is it possible
to account for the many strange sounds and presen
timents with which those who live long in these
parts become familiar. Even the least sensitive
are subconsciously aware of something abnormal
in the atmosphere of the woods.
On my last excursion into the interior both
myself and several companions indulged one night
in the most hideous nightmares. We naturally
303

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
attributed it to haying eaten too much, but when
we came to compare notes it developed that the
substance of each dream had been more or less
the same. This fact alone was more than curious,
but we learnt later that an expedition had actually
come to grief at that very spot some years previously.
According to an Indian, the leader — who was an
Englishman — carried quite a good deal of gold in
his baggage, and his men, intent on robbery, shot
him while coming down the river on a raft. In
his last moments he seized the gold and flung it
into deep water, so that his murderers should not
benefit by their deed. Our dream version of the
incident differed in detail with each one of us, but
in the main facts the tragedy was the same.
A similar influence is also known to adhere at times
to trophies, such as shrunken human heads, which
travellers have brought back with them. Misfor
tune will dog their footsteps till they have passed
on their gruesome relic to some one else. There
have also been cases reported of these same heads
causing the owner to dream terrible dreams identical
in every detail for several nights running.
As the days slipped by I became more and more
anxious concerning the fate which awaited me if
I remained a virtual prisoner in the hands of the
Aguarunas. Think as I might, it seemed well-
nigh impossible to hit upon any logical reason for
wanting to go away which could be easily expressed
in the language of my captors, and which, at the
same time, would imply the necessity for haste. As
in most difficult problems, the solution was simple
enough when once the answer had been found.
I had noticed that the men did not relish being
304

THE GREAT IDEA

separated from their families for long at a time.
Even on short expeditions a few women and children
always came along, as if one was indispensable for
the other's happiness. Yet, again, those who had
been obliged to remain under the family shelter
showed unmistakable signs of pleasure when the
absent ones came back. This set me thinking; if
an Indian wanted to hurry back to his family after
an absence of a day or two, surely my desire to return
to my home, after weeks of wandering in strange
parts, should make a very strong appeal to their
natures. If so, the plan was simple in the extreme.
I would tell my friends that I wanted to go back to
my own fireside. It was a primitive instinct that
the wildest savage should understand, and, further
more, he would appreciate my desire for haste.
That very evening I put my ideas into practical
shape, and when the household was assembled to
partake of the remnants left over from the day's
food supply I said, " Yurmi Chinchipe nua nua
chano chano atzuhan " — at the same time I pointed
westward to the evening sun as it sank majestically
behind the hills, slapped my chest and looked very
disconsolate, which was my way of saying that on
the Chinchipe river, in the direction of the setting
sun, I had wives and children waiting for me, and
they were very sad — like myself — because I did
not come home. It was a mental picture of my
domestic affairs which was well within their compre
hension, and in two days' time pink shadows of hope
once more loomed up on my otherwise grey horizon.
It was my staunch friend, Tehi, who made the
first overtures to accompany me to the Chinchipe,
where the mythical wives and children were pining
v 305

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
for my return. In the early morning I was standing
outside the hut, before the usual exodus of the
inmates to the family banana-patch, when Tehi
came out of the forest holding a huge leaf over his
head to keep off the drizzle that was falling. It
was an unusual hour for a visit, so I waited with
special interest to ascertain the cause of it.
He took a seat near me inside the house, and
after a few words of greeting to those round about,
turned towards me and quietly unfolded a plan.
It was a long process translating his words and
gestures, but piece by piece I gathered the details.
His father was talking of a hunting trip to the
Chinchipe river — far away to where the great
forest came to an end and where the rocks were
so sharp that they cut the feet unmercifully. I
might come along with them. He (Tehi) would
carry one of my big bundles, no doubt his father
would shoulder a second, and then, if we could
find a third man, all would be well. There was
still a whole day to prepare food, since we would
not start to-morrow, but the day after, when there
would be a little less water in the river.
So spake Tehi — and to say that I was thrilled
with excitement would poorly express my feelings ;
yet, outwardly, I remained impassive, and grunted
in Aguaruna style, as if it were immaterial to me
what I did. By way of encouraging my friend
not to relax his interest in the trip I remarked,
" Cashi Wakeha duhauho ticachi aishman,"
which, being translated, meant that I would buy
plenty of food for all the men to-morrow.
With a promise to return in the evening Tehi
left me, and without further delay I undid my
306

THE WISDOM OF SOLOMON
bundles, looked over my possessions systematic
ally, and spread everything out in the sun ready
for the family when they came back from their
morning's work.
This was to be my one great chance of getting
away ; I would stake everything I had on it, and
would not conceal anything from view — I even
displayed a suit of pyjamas, some old flannel trousers,
and a soft shirt or two. My wish to trade for the
services of one man to go on the expedition with
me bore no fruit whatsoever — not a single member
of Cashipa 's household came up to the scratch ;
whether it was because they did not know the route,
or just didn't want to come, was not easy to say ;
they fingered the tattered clothing, saying, " Aicu
Sumamy," but there it ended ; they never pointed
to themselves, signifying they wanted to possess
the articles in question; still it was something
that they showed interest in the goods at all, and
they might still decide to join me at the last moment.
Tehi, true to his word, was back again in the
afternoon with his father, Iwanch, and together
they inspected my wares ; the suit of pyjamas
seemed to strike their fancy more than anything
else, but seeing that I could not give it to both of
them I steered their attention towards other things ;
no matter what I showed them they always came
back to the pyjamas as being the one article they
coveted most — so, with the wisdom of Solomon,
I presented the top half to father and the lower
half to son, an action which met with unstinted
approval from both. I was not inclined to be
parsimonious in my dealings, but gave other things
as well, such as a few remaining boxes of matches,
307

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
an old belt, a cloth cap, and various oddments
which were of no further use to me. Thoroughly
pleased with their new possessions, and with
further promises of bringing in another man to make
up the party, they went back to their house, leaving
me to reflect at leisure on the happenings of the day.
My last twenty-four hours of captivity were
about as trying as any I ever experienced during
my entire sojourn with the Aguarunas. All the
morning I waited for signs of the third man as
promised, but he never turned up. In desperation
I went off to Tehi's house in the afternoon to make
enquiries, only to find that worthy sound asleep
on his rack, and not worrying himself in the least
about the matter. After much persuasion I got
him to go with me to a couple of other houses, but
we drew a blank at each — no one wanted to under
take such a long trip. It looked so hopeless that
I told Tehi that if we failed to get the necessary
third man I proposed leaving some of my cargo
behind, but go I would with Iwanch and himself
as arranged. I was not going to let a chance like
this slip through my fingers under any consideration.
The joy caused at the prospects of departure
was greatly diminished by the thought of losing
my " movie " camera, for that was the only thing
left for me to discard ; it had been many thousands
of miles with me, had worked like clockwork, and
never failed me once. It had also been down to
the bottom of the Amazon in the whirlpool and
fished up again by the bogas ; I was therefore
more than reluctant to throw it away when so
near my goal ; still, if the worst came to the worst,
it would have to be done. 308

LAST NIGHT OF CAPTIVITY
I had quite reconciled myself to its loss when
Tehi's familiar form appeared out of the evening
shadows, closely followed by another Indian whom
I had never seen before. He was a large fellow,
heavily built, and rejoiced in the name of Wahu-
Yata. He examined one of my bundles, lifted it
up carefully as if to gauge its weight, and then
expressed himself as willing to go with me. I
soon had his promise in return for a ragged khaki
shirt, along with other sundries of little importance,
and so the bargain was finally sealed.
I had already provided for a good supply of
yucas, bananas, and masata for the journey, but
now that everything had been settled I gave away
my few remaining belongings wholesale, so elated
was I at the thought of continuing my journey.
Should Tehi and his companions fail me at the
last moment I should be in a nice fix, as only a
small amount of money remained. Taking every
thing into consideration I was pretty lucky to have
that, as when I got to Bellavista there was a two
weeks' journey still ahead of me for which money
alone could pay.
That night I went to sleep with a lighter heart
than I had done for many weeks, and allowed
myself to indulge in all kinds of speculations as
to what civilised people would look like and what
I should do to bring Mufioz to book when I got
back to the coast. In a week's time I would have
extricated myself from the strangle-hold of the
forest, and would be able to see heaven and earth
in true proportions, instead of being smothered
under a canopy of vile vegetable growth.
In the morning an unusually heavy mist enveloped
309

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
the landscape, and hung like a wet blanket over the
tree-tops to damp my ardour. If my friends had
postponed our departure I would not have been
surprised. I made no comments on the prospects,
but sat in stolid silence awaiting Tehi's arrival. I
gazed anxiously across the clearing for over half
an hour before I saw him and his companions
steal out of the forest, pick their way carefully
amongst the dripping bushes, and come over to
the hut. He greeted me with a grunt and the
salutation of " Minache," which intimated that he
was in a good frame of mind and not disposed to
cancel our arrangements. The food was soon
in readiness, the three packs adjusted to the
satisfaction of the bearers, and off we set.
Our departure caused no excitement, neither
was it attended by any demonstration what
soever ; an extra amount of chatter took place
which increased in volume up to the last moment,
when every one stopped simultaneously, and with
the usual " Pumata," spoken in subdued tones,
the party moved off into the forest. Tehi, Iwanch,
Wahu-Yata, two women and a small boy made up
our numbers ; I fell into line with the rest of
them, and in true Indian file we settled down to
the long march ahead of us. My last impression
of the oval hut where I had spent so many anxious
days was indeed a cheerless one: glancing back, I
saw the entire family trooping off as usual into the
grey mist on the endless hunt for food.
It was a good omen that, in spite of the rain,
every one seemed happy ; no doubt the few remain
ing trinkets which I had disposed of with such a
lavish hand on the last day had helped to make
310

ONCE MORE ON THE MARCH
my companions feel contented ; if so, so much the
better, because — although on the road to liberty —
I was not feeling particularly elated. Conditions
were very similar to when I had first set out with
Mufioz. The rain came down heavily, we rested
an hour under palm leaves, we encountered the
Ipicus, and waded up it at the same place, and
finally camped at the identical spot, under the
remnants of our old shelter, where affairs had
reached a climax.
As^I sat down and waited for night to fall I was
nearer losing my mental balance than ever before,
and that is saying a good deal, since the last few
weeks had been enough to upset the equilibrium
of the sanest person. Here — at the same spot
and under almost identical conditions as obtained
when Mufioz was with me — I felt as if I was once
more going to experience the same fearful night
mares of the past. Darkness soon came to my
relief and I went to sleep. The flood-gates of
heaven were opened during the night, but the
morning broke clear, and I awoke to the realities
of life with every confidence in my ability to grapple
with the situation.
In an hour or so we were on the banks of a good-
sized river, which Tehi called Wahupaza, and
the next morning were wading up its turbid waters
against a powerful current. We continued like
this for the rest of the day. Several deep pools
on bends forced us out into the forest for a short
distance, but within a minute or two we would
be back in the water. Wahu-Yata was nearly
carried away by the current in several places, and
I had to give a hand to save the gear from a watery
311

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
grave ; the little Indian women also, on account
of -.their small stature, were constantly in trouble,
and periodically I carried their loads while they
swam the deep passages. It was altogether a
novel experience, but not one I would care to
repeat often.
I had troubles of my own with a vengeance, and
my bare feet were horribly cut about on the sharp
rocks ; furthermore, I succeeded in jamming a
long hard- wood splinter between two toes, which
proved excruciatingly painful. Of minor pests
the sand-flies were on hand by the million, and
settled on every piece of exposed flesh — not a
difficult task, seeing that no one had any clothes
on except myself, and that was only a hat. About
three we branched up a tributary coming in on
our right, but there was such a seething mass of
foam coming down its rocky course that we were
obliged to camp and wait till the following day,
when the rush of water would have subsided
somewhat. j
Another half-day was spent in the water before
once more taking to the leaf -strewn ground of the
forest. I don't believe I could have continued
another twenty minutes over the bed of that rocky
creek ; my feet were badly lacerated, and it was
agony to even hobble along slowly behind the
Indians. The climb out of the valley was very
steep, but we stopped frequently to get breath,
or else examine the tracks of some animal ; two
months ago such things were invisible to my eyes,
but weeks of living with the Aguarunas had opened
them to many mysteries of the wilds. So far
our hunting had not been very successful, and it
312

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P<»- t- 41

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BB ,

ON THE ROOF OF THE WORLD.

VEXATIOUS DELAYS

was not till the fourth day that we brought down
a small monkey. That night, as the smoke of
our fire curled up through the trees and the savoury
smell of roasted meat floated in the air, I took
careful stock of our provisions ; there was barely
a day's rations left. The unexpected flood in the
river had gravely affected our plans, for we had
covered in four days what should only have taken
us two; this meant that there was still the possi
bility of having to go back and postponing my
dash for freedom indefinitely.
With such a contingency before me it is not
surprising that I wanted to urge the men forward
at every opportunity, but it would have served
no good purpose to have done so ; we could not
travel without food, and food was invariably the
cause of our halts. We would be walking along
in silence when some bird's cry would ring out
over the forest ; every one would stop immediately,
put down their packs, and wait while Tehi, with
stealthy step, slipped off into the brush, returning
ten minutes later empty-handed. Sometimes it
was Iwanch who would go off on the chase, or
else he would stop still and squawk away for several
minutes imitating the bird whose cry he had heard.
So well did he do it that the unsuspecting victim
would come flapping down into the branches
overhead on the look-out for his companion. A
well-directed poisoned dart, silent and swift, was
all he got for his pains. On another occasion a
chonta palm-tree was the centre of attraction,
and an hour spent in hacking out the tender green
heart was nothing. One particularly long drawn-
out halt caused me a great deal of uneasiness. For
313

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
no apparent reason the entire party disappeared
for at least forty minutes, leaving me to stand still
until they came back. In the interval they had
collected over seventy caterpillars, which they ate
raw before proceeding further.
There were times when I myself would have
enjoyed stopping to examine something of interest,
but our progress was so very slow as it was that I
had no inclination to put a further check on it.
The most serious delay was caused by my old
enemy the Maranon, which had once more to
be reckoned with before reaching our destination.
This time it was merely a case of crossing over to
the opposite bank on an improvised raft, but a
precarious business for all that, as the water
floundered madly along between piles of coarse
granite boulders and slabs of slate. It was a full
ten hours' work searching the forest for balsa trees,
stripping the bark, and lashing the trunks together
into a more or less substantial platform ; but when
completed two or three minutes' vigorous work
saw us safely across.
After a quiet night on the banks of a torrent
called Pomara, we struck out on a more westerly
course up an interminable slope to a very high
ridge. In a hollow near the summit was a clearing
freshly planted with yucas, bananas, and sugar
cane, which showed unmistakable signs of more
intelligent cultivation than any Indian ever bestows
on such things. Any doubt that there might
have been in my mind was soon dispelled by the
sight of a well-defined trail leading out of the
forest on the opposite side which was certainly
not the work of a savage. 314

A TRANSFORMATION SCENE
Along this open pathway we moved with ease and
freedom that contrasted strangely with what we
had been accustomed to in the past. For an hour
we fairly ran along the smooth surface up to the
crest of the divide, which was covered with coarse
grass and bracken. What a wondrous change it
was — not a single tree, just open sky and pure
fresh air. I could hardly, contain myself with
joy. Upward our course lay for a short distance,
and, behold, the scales of blindness dropped from
my eyes completely, and I could see once more.
Sky, land, and rivers now lay before me like an
open book ; no longer was I a worm crawling
blindly through the brush amongst the roots of
the underworld, but a condor on a crag surveying
the giant horizon of frowning mountain tops that
stretched away north and south into the illimitable
blue of remoteness.
In front the great peaks of the Andean divide
jutted up towards the heavens, streaked and scarred
like rugged walls of some impregnable city of the
gods. The evening sun peered over the jagged
battlements — a ball of crimson fury lending colour
to the scene and casting long shadows across ravines
and gulleys, which in turn threw the whole land
scape into a bold relief of unparalleled magni
ficence. Down below were the valleys of the
Chinchipe, Maranon, and Chamaya rivers, carved
and scraped out of the earth's crust, colossal gutters
wherein those waters collected which fed the
rapacious maw of the mighty Amazon — that living
mass of swirling liquid green against which I had
been struggling ever since leaving Iquitos.
To one who had just crept out of the forest
315

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNG
world, where groping amongst the trees and living
with monstrous terrors of the unseen represented
the sum total of existence, this sudden return to
light came with overwhelming significance. I was
literally dumfounded and amazed to realise that
the mind of Man could dwell on or perceive any
thing other than leaves and branches off which
water incessantly dripped. As I gazed at the
stupendous spectacle which unfolded before me,
thoughts of proportionate magnitude welled up
within me ; big ideas once more expanded my
shrivelled mind ; I forgot my petty quarrels with
the river and my trivial disagreements with the
forest ; my perspective returned and I saw things
in their true proportion.
Our course lay down-hill for a short distance
through a forest of wild orange-trees and then out
again on to a shoulder of the mountain where
my friends put down their packs with an air of
finality. " Aishman," said Tehi, pointing down
the slope and motioning me to go on ahead to
reconnoitre. I did so, and not far off found a
hut occupied by a mountain cholo who spoke
quite good Spanish/ He was a little startled to
see a bearded ruffian like myself emerge from the
back of beyond, but he gave me a cordial welcome,
and together we returned to the little group of
Aguarunas waiting on the hillside.
They wanted to start back without delay, so I
arranged to give them all the yucas and bananas
they could possibly carry. It seemed quite inade
quate for the services which they had rendered,
yet I was at a loss to know what else to do for them,
till I happened to notice Tehi admiring some baby
316

THE PARTING OF THE WAYS
pigs that were running about. At once I arranged
with the cholo to buy a couple for them as a souvenir
of the trip ; they were extraordinarily pleased with
the gift, and feeling thoroughly happy raised their
hands in final salutation of farewell. " Pumata !
Pumata ! " they shouted, and amidst much squealing
from the piglets — which Iwanch had tucked away
under his sinewy arms — my friends set their faces
homewards along the route we had come by.
This, then, was the parting of the ways ; my
future safety was assured, and with an indescribable
feeling of thankfulness and pity I watched the
retreating forms of my friends move slowly up the
slope. When flitting about amongst the exuberant
vegetation of the Amazon they cut an important
figure, but here, on the bare mountain side, they
appeared peculiarly insignificant, strangely out of
place. Yet it was thanks to these brown shadows
of the forest and their very human wish to help
me to get back to my wives and children on the
banks of the Chinchipe that I was here at all.
Without their timely assistance my body might
now have been rotting under the trees in nowhere,
and my spirit calling helplessly to the moon, like
many another silent tragedy striving to make itself
heard in. the ocean of Eternity.
The remaining two hundred miles which had
to be traversed before setting foot on the Pacific
coast presented no particular difficulties after what
I had gone through. My cholo friend had a
donkey, which he put at my disposal for a con
sideration, and the day following my exit from the
forest I loaded my gear on the animal's back,
317

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
and in company with my host walked to the Chin
chipe. After a night's rest on the banks of the
river I set forth on another long day's march,
which brought me to Bellavista.
It was over arid wastes of loose gravel reverber
ating in the heat of a powerful sun, and such is the
perverseness of human nature that, now I was once
more in a parched-up valley without shade trees
of any kind and not a drop of water to be seen
anywhere, I almost wished to be back in the woods
with my Indian friends.
As I supposed, Mufioz — being quite sure of
the fate that would overtake me — had spread abroad
a report of how he had been attacked by Indians
and his companion (myself) killed. He had left
some weeks ahead of my arrival, bound for Iquitos
via Moyobamba, which would take him three
months or more of hard travelling.
My journey to Jaen was but half a day's walk,
and once within the confines of this decaying outpost
of civilisation I was able, through the medium of
much gold, to get mules immediately to carry me
forward to Huancabamba. There is little need
to dwell on this latter section of my travels ;
two ridges of the Andes had still to be crossed ;
they were not comparable with Calle Calle or
Piscahuanuma, either in elevation or steepness,
but in general they stood for a repetition of the
evils already related in Chapters II and III.
It was indeed a marvellous sensation to be once
more astride a mule's back and able to take in at
a glance miles and miles of country, without a
wall of vegetation blocking out the view. At
Huancabamba I hired new animals, crossed the
318

SAFE AT LAST

last and most westerly ridge of the Cordillera,
and then down to the wind-swept wastes of the
Peruvian littoral. The great desert of Piura, with
its soft white sands shifting hither and thither,
was traversed at night, so as to better withstand
the pangs of thirst, and on Saturday, November
9th, I set foot in Paita exactly thirteen weeks and
a day since leaving Iquitos.
Let it here be noted by those who look upon
Peru and the Upper Amazon as unhealthy and
fever-stricken countries, that since the day I landed
at Pacasmayo, up to the date I sailed from Paita,
I had not experienced a day's sickness of any kind.
Of medicines I had carried quite a stock, but they
had all gone to relieve the pains of others who
lived off the beaten track, where such things were
unknown or unobtainable.
As to Mufioz, a few more words may not be out
of place. On arrival in Lima I at once put my case
before the authorities, and both Colonel Soyer, the
prefect at Iquitos, and my friends there, were duly
informed of what had actually taken place. Some
months later, in London, I received notification
that Mufioz, on arrival in Iquitos, had been given
a sound thrashing by Mr. J. W. Massey, of the
Booth Steamship Company, and that he (Mufioz)
had then retired to jail for an extended period.
When the time came round for the launch to make
its yearly visit to his section of the river at Barranca,
he was put on board and sent back in disgrace.
But the story does not end here. Mr. C. R. Sharpe,
of the Commercial Bank of Spanish America,
wrote me some time later that he had seen the
miserable fellow on board the launch before it
319

SILENT HIGHWAYS OF THE JUNGLE
sailed, and thinking he needed yet another thrashing
to properly bring home to him the enormity of his
misdeeds, promptly administered it.
The authorities regretted that more appropriate
punishment could not be meted out, but nothing
further could be done, they said, unless I came back
in person to bring an action against him ; however,
a cheque for ten pounds, which was the sum I
had given him under pressure of circumstances,
was enclosed, and a parcel containing several of
my belongings — such as my leather camera case —
was also returned intact.
So it came about that, thanks to the Peruvian
Government, Colonel Soyer, the Commercial Bank
of Spanish America, and the Booth Steamship
Company, an extremely hazardous journey came
to a successful end, and Mufioz received a lesson
that he will be slow to forget.
Now, whenever I hear the patter of rain on
the trees, my thoughts revert to those strange
days spent on the Upper Amazon with my friends
the Aguaruna Indians, and I look forward to
the time when, mounted on a powerful aeroplane,
I will be able to fly into their country and enjoy
a yuca or toasted banana by their fireside. It is
possible that they think of me once in a while —
if so, it is with feelings of envy and relief, for did
I not tell them that on the banks of the Chinchipe
I had many wives and children waiting for me,
and they were sad because I did not come home ?

Cahill &• Co.. Ltd., London, Dublin and Drogheda.

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