Personal Narrative of Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of America, During the Years 1799-1804, Vol.2 — Chapter 2.21, Part 1
RAUDAL OF GARCITA.
MAYPURES.
CATARACTS OF QUITUNA.
MOUTH OF THE VICHADA AND THE ZAMA.
ROCK OF ARICAGUA.
SIQUITA.
We directed our course to the Puerto de arriba, above the cataract of Atures, opposite the mouth of the Rio Cataniapo, where our boat was to be ready for us.
In the narrow path that leads to the embarcadero we beheld for the last time the peak of Uniana.
It appeared like a cloud rising above the horizon of the plains.
The Guahibos wander at the foot of the mountains, and extend their course as far as the banks of the Vichada.
We were shown at a distance, on the right of the river, the rocks that surround the cavern of Ataruipe; but we had not time to visit that cemetery of the destroyed tribe of the Atures.
Father Zea had repeatedly described to us this extraordinary cavern, the skeletons painted with anoto, the large vases of baked earth, in which the bones of separate families appear to be collected; and many other curious objects, which we proposed to examine on our return from the Rio Negro.
"You will scarcely believe," said the missionaries, "that these skeletons, these painted vases, things which we believed were unknown to the rest of the world, have brought trouble upon me and my neighbour, the missionary of Carichana.
You have seen the misery in which I live in the raudales.
Though devoured by mosquitos, and often in want of plantains and cassava, yet I have found envious people even in this country!
A white man, who inhabits the pastures between the Meta and the Apure, denounced me recently in the Audencia of Caracas, as concealing a treasure I had discovered, jointly with the missionary of Carichana, amid the tombs of the Indians.
It is asserted that the Jesuits of Santa Fe de Bogota were apprised beforehand of the destruction of their company; and that, in order to save the riches they possessed in money and precious vases, they sent them, either by the Rio Meta or the Vichada, to the Orinoco, with orders to have them hidden in the islets amid the raudales.
These treasures I am supposed to have appropriated unknown to my superiors.
The Audencia of Caracas brought a complaint before the governor of Guiana, and we were ordered to appear in person.
We uselessly performed a journey of one hundred and fifty leagues; and, although we declared that we had found in the cavern only human bones, and dried bats and polecats, commissioners were gravely nominated to come hither and search on the spot for the supposed treasures of the Jesuits.
We shall wait long for these commissioners.
When they have gone up the Orinoco as far as San Borja, the fear of the mosquitos will prevent them from going farther.
The cloud of flies which envelopes us in the raudales is a good defence."
The account given by the missionary was entirely conformable to what we afterwards learned at Angostura from the governor himself.
Fortuitous circumstances had given rise to the strangest suspicions.
In the caverns where the mummies and skeletons of the nation of the Atures are found, even in the midst of the cataracts, and in the most inaccessible islets, the Indians long ago discovered boxes bound with iron, containing various European tools, remnants of clothes, rosaries, and glass trinkets.
These objects are thought to have belonged to Portuguese traders of the Rio Negro and Grand Para, who, before the establishment of the Jesuits on the banks of the Orinoco, went up to Atures by the portages and interior communications of rivers, to trade with the natives.
It is supposed that these men sunk beneath the epidemic maladies so common in the raudales, and that their chests became the property of the Indians, the wealthiest of whom were usually buried with all they possessed most valuable during their lives.
From these very uncertain traditions the tale of hidden treasures has been fabricated.
As in the Andes of Quito every ruined building, not excepting the foundations of the pyramids erected by the French savans for the measurement of the meridian, is regarded as Inga pilca,* that is, the work of the Inca (* Pilca (properly in Quichua pirca), wall of the Inca.
); so on the Orinoco every hidden treasure can belong only to the Jesuits, an order which, no doubt, governed the missions better than the Capuchins and the monks of the Observance, but whose riches and success in the civilization of the Indians have been much exaggerated.
When the Jesuits of Santa Fe were arrested, those heaps of piastres, those emeralds of Muzo, those bars of gold of Choco, which the enemies of the company supposed they possessed, were not found in their dwellings.
I can cite a respectable testimony, which proves incontestibly, that the viceroy of New Granada had not warned the Jesuits of Santa Fe of the danger with which they were menaced.
Don Vicente Orosco, an engineer officer in the Spanish army, related to me that, being arrived at Angostura, with Don Manuel Centurion, to arrest the missionaries of Carichana, he met an Indian boat that was going down the Rio Meta.
The boat being manned with Indians who could speak none of the tongues of the country, gave rise to suspicions.
After useless researches, a bottle was at length discovered, containing a letter, in which the Superior of the company residing at Santa Fe informed the missionaries of the Orinoco of the persecutions to which the Jesuits were exposed in New Grenada.
This letter recommended no measure of precaution; it was short, without ambiguity, and respectful towards the government, whose orders were executed with useless and unreasonable severity.
Eight Indians of Atures had conducted our boat through the raudales, and seemed well satisfied with the slight recompence we gave them.
They gain little by this employment; and in order to give a just idea of the poverty and want of commerce in the missions of the Orinoco, I shall observe that during three years, with the exception of the boats sent annually to Angostura by the commander of San Carlos de Rio Negro, to fetch the pay of the soldiers, the missionary had seen but five canoes of the Upper Orinoco pass the cataract, which were bound for the harvest of turtles' eggs, and eight boats laden with merchandize.
About eleven on the morning of the 17th of April we reached our boat.
Father Zea caused to be embarked, with our instruments, the small store of provisions he had been able to procure for the voyage, on which he was to accompany us; these provisions consisted of a few bunches of plantains, some cassava, and fowls.
Leaving the embarcadero, we immediately passed the mouth of the Cataniapo, a small river, the banks of which are inhabited by the Macos, or Piaroas, who belong to the great family of the Salive nations.
Besides the Piaroas of Cataniapo, who pierce their ears, and wear as ear-ornaments the teeth of caymans and peccaries, three other tribes of Macos are known: one, on the Ventuari, above the Rio Mariata; the second, on the Padamo, north of the mountains of Maraguaca; and the third, near the Guaharibos, towards the sources of the Orinoco, above the Rio Gehette.
This last tribe bears the name of Macos-Macos.
I
collected the following words from a young Maco of the banks of the Cataniapo, whom we met near the embarcadero, and who wore in his ears, instead of a tusk of the peccary, a large wooden cylinder.
* (* This custom is observed among the Cabres, the Maypures, and the Pevas of the Amazon.
These last, described by La Condamine, stretch their ears by weights of a considerable size.
) Plantain, Paruru (in Tamanac also, paruru).
Cassava, Elente (in Maco, cahig).
Maize, Niarne.
The sun, Jama (in Salive, mume-seke-cocco).
The moon, Jama (in Salive, vexio).
Water, Ahia (in Salive, cagua).
One, Nianti.
Two, Tajus.
Three, Percotahuja.
Four, Imontegroa.
The young man could not reckon as far as five, which certainly is no proof that the word five does not exist in the Maco tongue.
I know not whether this tongue be a dialect of the Salive, as is pretty generally asserted; for idioms derived from one another, sometimes furnish words utterly different for the most common and most important things.
* (* The great family of the Esthonian (or Tschoudi) languages, and of the Samoiede languages, affords numerous examples of these differences.
) But in discussions on mother-tongues and derivative languages, it is not the sounds, the roots only, that are decisive; but rather the interior structure and grammatical forms.
In the American idioms, which are notwithstanding rich, the moon is commonly enough called the sun of night or even the sun of sleep; but the moon and sun very rarely bear the same name, as among the Macos.
I know only a few examples in the most northerly part of America, among the Woccons, the Ojibbeways, the Muskogulges, and the Mohawks.
* (* Nipia-kisathwa in the Shawanese (the idiom of Canada), from nippi, to sleep, and kisathwa, the sun.
) Our missionary asserted that jama, in Maco, indicated at the same time the Supreme Being, and the great orbs of night and day; while many other American tongues, for instance the Tamanac, and the Caribbee, have distinct words to denote God, the Moon, and the Sun.
We shall soon see how anxious the missionaries of the Orinoco are not to employ, in their translations of the prayers of the church, the native words which denote the Divinity, the Creator (Amanene), the Great Spirit who animates all nature.
They choose rather to Indianize the Spanish word Dios, converting it, according to the differences of pronunciation, and the genius of the different dialects, into Dioso, Tiosu, or Piosu.
When we again embarked on the Orinoco, we found the river free from shoals.
After a few hours we passed the Raudal of Garcita, the rapids of which are easy of ascent, when the waters are high.
To the eastward is seen a small chain of mountains called the chain of Cumadaminari, consisting of gneiss, and not of stratified granite.
We were struck with a succession of great holes at more than one hundred and eighty feet above the present level of the Orinoco, yet which, notwithstanding, appear to be the effects of the erosion of the waters.
We shall see hereafter, that this phenomenon occurs again nearly at the same height, both in the rocks that border the cataracts of Maypures, and fifty leagues to the east, near the mouth of the Rio Jao.
We slept in the open air, on the left bank of the river, below the island of Tomo.
The night was beautiful and serene, but the torment of the mosquitos was so great near the ground, that I could not succeed in levelling the artificial horizon; consequently I lost the opportunity of making an observation.
On the 18th we set out at three in the morning, to be more sure of arriving before the close of the day at the cataract known by the name of the Raudal de los Guahibos.
We stopped at the mouth of the Rio Tomo.
The Indians went on shore, to prepare their food, and take some repose.
When we reached the foot of the raudal, it was near five in the afternoon.
It was extremely difficult to go up the current against a mass of water, precipitated from a bank of gneiss several feet high.
An Indian threw himself into the water, to reach, by swimming, the rock that divides the cataract into two parts.
A rope was fastened to the point of this rock, and when the canoe was hauled near enough, our instruments, our dry plants, and the provision we had collected at Atures, were landed in the raudal itself.
We remarked with surprise, that the natural damn over which the river is precipitated, presents a dry space of considerable extent; where we stopped to see the boat go up.
The rock of gneiss exhibits circular holes, the largest of which are four feet deep, and eighteen inches wide.
These funnels contain quartz pebbles, and appear to have been formed by the friction of masses rolled along by the impulse of the waters.
Our situation, in the midst of the cataract, was singular enough, but unattended by the smallest danger.
The missionary, who accompanied us, had his fever-fit on him.
In order to quench the thirst by which he was tormented, the idea suggested itself to us of preparing a refreshing beverage for him in one of the excavations of the rock.
We had taken on board at Atures an Indian basket called a mapire, filled with sugar, limes, and those grenadillas, or fruits of the passion-flower, to which the Spaniards give the name of parchas.
As we were absolutely destitute of large vessels for holding and mixing liquids, we poured the water of the river, by means of a calabash, into one of the holes of the rock: to this we added sugar and lime-juice.
In a few minutes we had an excellent beverage, which is almost a refinement of luxury, in that wild spot; but our wants rendered us every day more and more ingenious.
After an hour of expectation, we saw the boat arrive above the raudal, and we were soon ready to depart.
After quitting the rock, our passage was not exempt from danger.
The river is eight hundred toises broad, and must be crossed obliquely, above the cataract, at the point where the waters, impelled by the slope of their bed, rush with extreme violence toward the ledge from which they are precipitated.
We were overtaken by a storm, accompanied happily by no wind, but the rain fell in torrents.
After rowing for twenty minutes, the pilot declared that, far from gaining upon the current, we were again approaching the raudal.
These moments of uncertainty appeared to us very long: the Indians spoke only in whispers, as they do always when they think their situation perilous.
They redoubled their efforts, and we arrived at nightfall, without any accident, in the port of Maypures.
Storms within the tropics are as short as they are violent.
The lightning had fallen twice near our boat, and had no doubt struck the surface of the water.
I mention this phenomenon, because it is pretty generally believed in those countries that the clouds, the surface of which is charged with electricity, are at so great a height that the lightning reaches the ground more rarely than in Europe.
The night was extremely dark, and we could not in less than two hours reach the village of Maypures.
We were wet to the skin.
In proportion as the rain ceased, the zancudos reappeared, with that voracity which tipulary insects always display immediately after a storm.
My fellow-travellers were uncertain whether it would be best to stop in the port or proceed on our way on foot, in spite of the darkness of the night.
Father Zea was determined to reach his home.
He had given directions for the construction of a large house of two stories, which was to be begun by the Indians of the mission.
"You will there find," said he gravely, "the same conveniences as in the open air; I have neither a bench nor a table, but you will not suffer so much from the flies, which are less troublesome in the mission than on the banks of the river."
We followed the counsel if the missionary, who caused torches of copal to be lighted.
These torches are tubes made of bark, three inches in diameter, and filled with copal resin.
We walked at first over beds of rock, which were bare and slippery, and then we entered a thick grove of palm trees.
We were twice obliged to pass a stream on trunks of trees hewn down.
The torches had already ceased to give light.
Being formed on a strange principle, the woody substance which resembles the wick surrounding the resin, they emit more smoke than light, and are easily extinguished.
The Indian pilot, who expressed himself with some facility in Spanish, told us of snakes, water-serpents, and tigers, by which we might be attacked.
Such conversations may be expected as matters of course, by persons who travel at night with the natives.
By intimidating the European traveller, the Indians imagine they render themselves more necessary, and gain the confidence of the stranger.
The rudest inhabitant of the missions fully understands the deceptions which everywhere arise from the relations between men of unequal fortune and civilization.
Under the absolute and sometimes vexatious government of the monks, the Indian seeks to ameliorate his condition by those little artifices which are the weapons of physical and intellectual weakness.
Having arrived during the night at San Jose de Maypures we were forcibly struck by the solitude of the place; the Indians were plunged in profound sleep, and nothing was heard but the cries of nocturnal birds, and the distant sound of the cataract.
In the calm of the night, amid the deep repose of nature, the monotonous sound of a fall of water has in it something sad and solemn.
We remained three days at Maypures, a small village founded by Don Jose Solano at the time of the expedition of the boundaries, the situation of which is more picturesque, it might be said still more admirable, than that of Atures.
The raudal of Maypures, called by the Indians Quituna, is formed, as all cataracts are, by the resistance which the river encounters in its way across a ridge of rocks, or a chain of mountains.
The lofty mountains of Cunavami and Calitamini, between the sources of the rivers Cataniapo and Ventuari, stretch toward the west in a chain of granitic hills.
From this chain flow three small rivers, which embrace in some sort the cataract of Maypures.
There are, on the eastern bank, the Sanariapo, and on the western, the Cameji and the Toparo.
Opposite the village of Maypures, the mountains fall back in an arch, and, like a rocky coast, form a gulf open to the south-east.
The irruption of the river is effected between the mouths of the Toparo and the Sanariapo, at the western extremity of this majestic amphitheatre.
The waters of the Orinoco now roll at the foot of the eastern chain of the mountains, and have receded from the west, where, in a deep valley, the ancient shore is easily recognized.
A savannah, scarcely raised thirty feet above the mean level of the river, extends from this valley as far as the cataracts.
There the small church of Maypures has been constructed.
It is built of trunks of palm-trees, and is surrounded by seven or eight huts.
The dry valley, which runs in a straight line from south to north, from the Cameji to the Toparo, is filled with granitic and solitary mounds, all resembling those found in the shape of islands and shoals in the present bed of the river.
I was struck with this analogy of form, on comparing the rocks of Keri and Oco, situated in the deserted bed of the river, west of Maypures, with the islets of Ouivitari and Caminitamini, which rise like old castles amid the cataracts to the east of the mission.
The geological aspect of these scenes, the insular form of the elevations farthest from the present shore of the Orinoco, the cavities which the waves appear to have hollowed in the rock Oco, and which are precisely on the same level (twenty-five or thirty toises high) as the excavations perceived opposite to them in the isle of Ouivitari; all these appearances prove that the whole of this bay, now dry, was formerly covered by water.
Those waters probably formed a lake, the northern dike preventing their running out: but, when this dike was broken down, the savannah that surrounds the mission appeared at first like a very low island, bounded by two arms of the same river.
It may be supposed that the Orinoco continued for some time to fill the ravine, which we shall call the valley of Keri, because it contains the rock of that name; and that the waters retired wholly toward the eastern chain, leaving dry the western arm of the river, only as they gradually diminished.
Coloured stripes, which no doubt owe their black tint to the oxides of iron and manganese, seem to justify this conjecture.
They are found on all the stones, far from the mission, and indicate the former abode of the waters.
In going up the river, all merchandise is discharged at the confluence of the Rio Toparo and the Orinoco.
The boats are entrusted to the natives, who have so perfect a knowledge of the raudal, that they have a particular name for every step.
They conduct the boats as far as the mouth of the Cameji, where the danger is considered as past.