The man-eaters and other odd people
Part 3
It is not to be supposed that he has it all to himself; no, nor half of it either; nor yet the fifth part of it. At least four fifths of his sweat has to be expended in tax or tithe; and this brings us to the form of his government. We shall not dwell long upon this subject. Suffice it to say that the great body of the people are in a condition of abject serfdom,—worse than slavery itself. They own nothing that they can call their own,—not their wives,—not their daughters,—not even their lives! All these may be taken from them at any hour. There is no law against despoiling them,—no check upon the will and pleasure of their chiefs or superiors; and, as these constitute a numerous body, the poor _canaille_ have no end of ruffian despoilers. It is an every-day act for a chief to rob, or _club to death_, one of the common people! and no unfrequent occurrence to be himself clubbed to death by his superior, the king! Of these _kings_ there are eight in Feegee,—not one, as the old song has it; but the words of the ballad will apply to each of them with sufficient appropriateness. Any one of them will answer to the character of “Musty-fusty-shang!”
These kings have their residences on various islands, and the different parts of the group are distributed somewhat irregularly under their rule. Some islands, or parts of islands, are only tributary to them; others connected by a sort of deferential alliance; and there are communities quite independent, and living under the arbitrary sway of their own chieftains. The kings are not all of equal power or importance; but in this respect there have been many changes, even during the Feegeean historical period,—which extends back only to the beginning of the present century. Sometimes one is the most influential, sometimes another; and in most cases the pre-eminence is obtained by him who possesses the greatest amount of truculence and treachery. He who is most successful in murdering his rivals, and ridding himself of opposition, by the simple application of the club, usually succeeds in becoming for the time head “king of the Cannibal Islands.” I do not mean that he reigns over the whole Archipelago. No king has yet succeeded in uniting all the islands under one government. He only gets so far as to be feared everywhere, and to have tributary presents, and all manner of debasing compliments offered to him. These kings have all their courts and court etiquette, just as their “royal brothers” elsewhere; and the ceremonials observed are quite as complicated and degrading to the dignity of man.
The punishment for neglecting their observance is rather more severe in Feegee than elsewhere. For a decided or wilful non-compliance, the skull of the delinquent is frequently crushed in by the club of his majesty himself,—even in presence of a full “drawing-room.” Lesser or accidental mistakes, or even the exhibition of an ungraceful _gaucherie_, are punished by the loss of a finger: the consequence of which is, that in Feegee there are many fingers missing! Indeed, a complete set is rather the exception than the rule. If a king or great chief should chance to miss his foot and slip down, it is the true _ton_ for all those who are near or around him to fall likewise,—the crowd coming down, literally like a “thousand of bricks!”
I might detail a thousand customs to show how far the dignity of the human form is debased and disgraced upon Feegee soil; but the subject could be well illustrated nearer home. Flunkeyism is a fashion unfortunately not confined to the Feegeean archipelago; and though the forms in which it exhibits itself there may be different, the sentiment is still the same. It must ever appear where men are politically unequal,—wherever there is a class possessed of hereditary privileges.
I come to the last,—the darkest feature in the Feegeean character,—the horrid crime and custom of cannibalism. I could paint a picture, and fill up the details with the testimony of scores of eyewitnesses,—a picture that would cause your heart to weep. It is too horrid to be given here. My pen declines the office; and, therefore, I must leave the painful story untold.
MUNDRUCUS, OR BEHEADERS.
In our general sketch of the Amazonian Indians it was stated that there were some few tribes who differed in certain customs from all the rest, and who might even be regarded as _odd among the odd_. One of these tribes is the _Mundrucu_, which, from its numbers and warlike strength, almost deserves to be styled a nation. It is, at all events, a powerful confederacy, of different tribes, linked together in one common nationality, and including in their league other Indians which the Mundrucus themselves first conquered, and afterwards associated with themselves on terms of equality; in other words, “annexed” them. The same sort of annexation or alliance is common among the tribes of North America; as in the case of the powerful Comanche nation, who extend their protecting alliance over the Wacoes, Washites, and Cayguäas or Kioways.
The _Mahüe_ is the principal tribe that is patronized in this fashion by the Mundrucus, and the two together number at least 20,000 souls.
Before the days of the Portuguese slave-hunting, the Mundrucus occupied the south bank of the Amazon, from the mouth of the Tapajos to that of the Madeira. This infamous traffic had the effect of clearing the banks of the great river of its native inhabitants,—except such of them as chose to submit to slavery, or become _neophytes_, by adopting the monkish faith. Neither of these courses appeared pleasing in the eyes of the Mundrucus, and they adopted the only alternative that was likely to insure their independence,—by withdrawing from the dangerous proximity of the sanguinary slave-trade.
This retreat of the Mundrucus, however, was by no means an ignominious flight. The withdrawal was voluntary on their part, and not compulsory, as was the case with weaker tribes. From the earliest times they had presented a firm front to the Portuguese encroachments, and the latter were even forced into a sort of nefarious alliance with them. The leaving the Amazon on the part of the Mundrucus was rather the result of a negotiation, by which they conceded their territory—between the mouths of the Tapajos and Madeira—to the Brazilian government; and to this hour they are not exactly unfriendly to Brazilian _whites_, though to the mulattoes and negroes, who constitute a large proportion of the Brazilian population, the Mundrucu knows no other feeling than that of a deadly hostility. The origin of their hatred of the Brazilian blacks is to be found in a revolt which occurred in the provinces of the Lower Amazon (at Para) in 1835. It was a _caste_ revolution against whites, but more especially against _European_ Portuguese. In this affair the Mundrucus were employed against the darker-skinned rebels—the _Cabanos_, as they were called—and did great service in putting down the rebellion. Hence they retain a lingering spark of friendship for their _ci-devant_ white allies; or perhaps it would be more correct to say they do not actually hate them, but carry on a little commerce with their traders. For all that, they occasionally cut the throats of a few of the latter,—especially those who do not come to deal directly with them, but who pass through their country in going from the Amazon to the diamond mines of Brazil. These last are called _Monçaos_, and their business is to carry supplies from the towns on the Amazon (Santarem and Para) to the miners of gold and washers of diamonds in the district of Matto Grosso, of which Cuiaba is the capital. Their route is by water and “portage” up the Tapajos river, and through the territory of the dreaded Mundrucus,—requiring a journey of six months, as perilous and toilsome as it is tedious.
The present residence of the Mundrucus is between the Tapajos and Madeira, as formerly, but far up on both rivers. On the Tapajos, above what are known as the “Caxoeiras,” or Cataracts, their villages are found. There they dwell, free from all molestation on the part of the whites; their borders extending widely around them, and limited only by contact with those of other warlike tribes like themselves, who are their deadly enemies. Among these last are the _Muras_, who dwell at the mouths of the Madeira and Rio Negro.
The Mundrucus build the _malocca_, elsewhere described; only in their case it is not used as a dwelling, but rather as a grand arsenal, a council-chamber, a ball-room, and, if need be, a fortress. When fearing an attack, all sleep in it “under arms.” It is a structure of large size and great strength, usually rendered more unassailable by being “chinked” and plastered with clay. It is in this building that are deposited those horrid trophies which have given to the Mundrucus their terrible title of _decapitadores_, or “beheaders.” The title and its origin shall be presently explained.
Around the great malocca the huts are placed, forming a village, and in these the people ordinarily dwell.
The Mundrucus are not without ample means of subsistence. Like most other Amazonian tribes, they cultivate a little manioc, plantains, and even maize; and they know how to prepare the _farinha_ meal, and, unfortunately, also the detestable _chicha_, the universal beverage of the South-American aborigines. They have their vessels of calabash—both of the vegetable and arborescent kinds—and a full set of implements and utensils for the field and kitchen. Their war weapons are those common to other Amazonian tribes, and they sometimes also carry the spear. They have canoes of hollow trees; and, of course, fishing and hunting are the employments of the men,—the women, as almost everywhere else among Indians, doing the drudgery,—the tilling and reaping, the “hewing of wood and the drawing of water,” the making the household utensils and using them,—all such offices being beneath the dignity of the “lordly,” or rather _lazy_ savage.
I have said that they carry on a commercial intercourse with the white traders. It is not of much magnitude, and their exports consist altogether of the native and spontaneous productions of the soil, sarsaparilla being one of the chief articles. They gather this (the women and children do) during six months of the year. The other six months no industry is followed,—as this period is spent in hostile excursions against the neighboring tribes. Their imports consist of iron tools and pieces for weapons; but they more especially barter the product of their labor for ornamental gewgaws,—such as savages universally admire and desire. Their sarsaparilla is good, and much sought for in the medical market.
Every one is acquainted with the nature and character of this valuable medicinal root, the appearance of which must also be known to almost everybody,—since it is so very common for our druggists to display the bundles of it in their shop windows. Perhaps every one is not acquainted with the fact, that the sarsaparilla root is the product of a great many different species of plants most of them of the genus _Simlax_, but not a few belonging to plants of other genera, as those of _Carex_ and _Herreria_ the roots of which are also sold as sarsaparilla. The species of simlax are widely distributed throughout the whole torrid zone, in Asia, Africa, and America, and some kinds are found growing many degrees outside the tropics,—as is the case in Virginia and the valley of the Mississippi, and also on the other side of the Pacific on the great continent-island of Australia.
The best sarsaparilla, however, is that which is produced in tropical countries, and especially in moist situations, where the atmosphere is at once hot and humid. It requires these conditions to concentrate the virtue of its sap, and render it more active.
It would be idle to give a list of the different species of simlax that furnish the sarsaparilla root of the pharmacopeia. There is an almost endless number of them, and they are equally varied in respect to excellence of quality; some kinds are in reality almost worthless, and for this reason, in using it as a medicine, great care should be taken in the selection of the species. Like all other articles, either of food or medicine, the valuable kinds are the scarcest; the reason in this case being that the best sarsaparilla is found in situations not only difficult of access, but where the gathering of its root is attended with considerable danger, from the unhealthy nature of the climate and the hostility of the savages in whose territory it grows. As to the quantity that may be obtained, there is no limit, on the score of any scarcity of the plant itself, since it is found throughout all the countries of tropical America plenteously distributed both in species and individual plants. Such quantities of it grow along the banks of some South-American rivers, that the Indians have a belief that those streams known as _black waters_—such as the Rio Negro and others—derive their peculiar color from the roots of this plant. This, however, is an erroneous supposition, as there are many of the _white-water_ rivers that run through regions abundantly supplied with the sarsaparilla root. The black water, therefore, must arise from some other cause, as yet unknown.
As observed, the sarsaparilla of the Mundrucu country is of the very best quality. It is the _Simlax papyracea_ of Soiret, and is known in commerce as the “Lisbon,” or “Brazilian.” It is a climbing plant, or under-shrub, the stem of which is flattened and angular, with rows of prickles standing along the prominent edges. Its leaves are of an oval acuminated shape, and marked with longitudinal nerves. It shoots up without any support, to a height of fifteen or twenty feet, after which it embraces the surrounding branches of trees and spreads to a great distance in every direction. The main root sends out many long tendrils, all of like thickness, covered with a brownish bark, of sometimes of a dark-gray color. These tendrils are fibrous, and about as thick as a quill. They present a constant tendency to become crooked, and they are also wrinkled longitudinally, with here and there some smaller lateral fibres branching off from the sides.
It is in the bark or epidermis of the rhizomes that the medicinal virtue lies; but the tendrils—both rhizome and bark—are collected together, and no attempt is made to separate them, until they have reached their commercial destination. Indeed, even these are sold together, the mode of preparing the root being left to the choice of the consumer, or the apothecary who procures it.
The Mundrucus collect it during the six months of the rainy season, partly because during the remaining six they are otherwise employed, and partly for the reason that, in the time of rain, the roots are more easily extracted from the damp soil. The process simply consists in digging them up or dragging them out of the earth—the latter mode especially where the tendrils lie near the surface, and they will pull up without breaking. If the main root be not dug out, it will send forth new tendrils, which in a short time would yield a new crop; but the improvident savages make no prudential calculations of this kind—present convenience forming their sole consideration; and on this account both the root and plant are generally destroyed by them during the operation of collecting.
As already stated, this labor devolves upon the women, who are also assisted in it by their children. They proceed into the depths of the forest—where the simlax grows in greatest abundance—and after collecting as much root as they can carry home with them, they return with their bundles to the malocca. When fresh gathered the sarsaparilla is heavy enough—partly on account of the sap which it then contains, and partly from the quantity of the mud or earth that adheres to the corrugated surface of the roots.
It is extremely probable that in this fresh state the virtue of the sarsaparilla, as a blood-purifier, is much greater than after it has passed through the channels of commerce; and the writer of this sketch has some reason, derived from personal experience, to believe that such is the case. Certain it is, that the reputation of this invaluable drug is far less in countries where the plant does not grow, than in those where it is common and can be obtained in its fresh state. In all parts of Spanish America its virtues are unquestioned, and experience has led to a more extensive use of it there than elsewhere. It is probable, therefore, that the virtue exists in the juice rather than the cortical integument of the rhizome; and this of course would be materially altered and deteriorated, if not altogether destroyed, in the process of exsiccation, which must necessarily take place in the time required for transporting it to distant parts of the world. In the European pharmacopeia it is the epidermis of the root which is supposed to contain the sanitary principle; and this, which is of a mucilaginous nature and slightly bitter taste, is employed, both in decoctions and infusions, as a tonic and alterative. In America, however, it is generally taken for what is termed _purifying the blood_—for the same purpose as the rhizomes of the _Laurus sassafras_ and other plants are used; but the sarsaparilla is generally considered the best, and it certainly _is_ the best of all known medicines for this purpose. Why it has fallen in the estimation of the Old-World practitioners, or why it never obtained so great a reputation as it has in America, may arise from two circumstances. First, that the root offered for sale is generally the product of the less valuable species; and second, that the sap, and not the rhizome, may be the part that contains the virtuous principle.
When the collected roots have been kept for awhile they become dry and light, and for the convenience of stowage and carriage—an important consideration to the trader in his eight-ton _garratea_—it is necessary to have the roots done up in packages of a uniform length and thickness. These packages are formed by laying the roots side by side, and doubling in the ends of the longer ones. A bundle of the proper size for stowage contains an _arroba_ of twenty-five pounds, though the weight varies according to the condition of the root. Uniformity in size is the chief object aimed at, and the bundles are made of a round or cylindrical shape, about five inches in diameter, and something more than a yard in length. They are trimmed off small at the ends—so as to admit of stowage without leaving any empty space between two tiers of them—and each bundle is tightly corded round from one end to the other with a “sipo,” or creeping plant.
It has been stated that this “sipo” is a root of the sarsaparilla itself, with the bark scraped off; and, indeed, its own root would serve well enough—were it not that putting it to such a use would destroy its medicinal value, and thus cause a considerable waste of the costly material. The sarsaparilla is not to be had for nothing even upon the banks of the Tapajos. A bundle of the best quality does not leave the hands of the Mundrucu until about four dollars’ worth of exchange commodities have been put into them, which would bring the price of it to something over sixpence a pound. He is, therefore, a little particular about wasting a material that has cost him—or rather his wife and children—so much trouble in collecting. His cordage is obtained more cheaply, and consists of the long, flexible roots of a species of _pothos_, which roots—being what are termed _aërial_ and not buried in the ground—require no labor or digging to get at them. It is only necessary to stretch up the hand, and pull them down from the tops of lofty trees, from which they hang like streamers, often to the length of a hundred feet. These are toughened by the bark being scraped off; and when that is done they are ready for use, and serve not only to tie up the bundles of sarsaparilla, but for many other purposes in the domestic economy of the Mundrucus.
In addition to the sarsaparilla, the Mundrucu furnishes the trader with several other items of commercial value—for his climate, although one of the most unhealthy in all the Amazon region, on account of its great heat and humidity, is for that very reason one of the most fertile. Nearly all those tropical vegetable products which are characteristics of Brazilian export commerce can here be produced of the most luxuriant kind; but it is only those that grow spontaneously at his very doors that tempt the Mundrucu to take the trouble of collecting them.
There is one article, however, which he not only takes some trouble to collect, but also to manufacture into an item of commercial exchange—a very rare item indeed. This is the _guarana_, which is manufactured from the fruit of a tree almost peculiar to the Mundrucu territory—since nowhere is it found so abundantly as on the Tapajos. It is so prized in the Brazilian settlements as to command almost its weight in silver when transported thither. It is the constituent element of a drink, which has a stimulating effect on the system, somewhat more powerful than tea or coffee. It will prevent sleep; but its most valuable property is, that it is a good febrifuge, equal to the best quinine. _Guarana_ is prepared from the seeds of an inga—one of the _Mimosacæ_. It is a low, wide-spreading tree like most of the mimosa family. The legumes are gathered, and the seeds roasted in them. The latter are then taken out, and after being ground to powder, are mixed with water so as to make a tough paste, which is moulded into little bricks, and when dried is ready for use. The beverage is then prepared by scraping a table-spoonful of dust from the brick, and mixing it with about a pint of water; and the dry paste, keeping for any length of time, is ready whenever wanted.
The _guarana_ bush grows elsewhere in the Amazon valley, and on some head-waters of the Orinoco, where certain tribes also know how to prepare the drink. But it is sparingly distributed, and is nowhere so common as on the upper Tapajos; hence its high price in the markets of Brazil. The Mundrucu manufactures it, not only for “home use,” but for “exportation.”
He prepares another singular article of luxury, and this he makes exclusively for his own use,—not for the gratification of his lips or palate, but for his nose,—in other words, a snuff. Do not fancy, however, that it is snuff of the ordinary kind—the pulverised produce of innocent tobacco. No such thing; but a composition of such a powerful and stimulating character, that he who inhales it feels as if struck by an electric shock; his body trembles; his eyes start forward as if they would forsake their sockets; his limbs fail to support him; and he drops to the earth like one in a state of intoxication! For a short time he is literally mad; but the fit is soon over,—lasting usually only a few minutes,—and then a feeling of renewed strength, courage, and joyousness succeeds. Such are the consequences of taking snuff with a Mundrucu.
And now to describe the nature of the substance which produces these powerful effects.
Like the _guarana_ this snuff is a preparation, having for its basis the seeds of a leguminous tree. This time, however, it is an _acacia_, not an _inga_. It is the _acacia niopo_; so called because “niopo” is the name given to the snuff itself by certain tribes (the Ottomacs and others), who, like the Mundrucus, are snuff-takers. It is also called _curupa_, and the apparatus for preparing and taking it—for there is an apparatus of an extensive kind—is termed _parica_, in the general language (_lingoa geral_) of the Amazonian regions.
We shall describe the preparation, the apparatus, and the ceremonial.