CHAPTER XII

_A VISIT TO A NATIVE HOME_

Their home was not as far away as I had expected. But then, an Indian's "home" is easily made, consisting of some upright poles, roughly thatched with long marsh grass. Beneath this they place their belongings and they sleep in hammocks at night. The forests are full of little colonies or villages back from the river. They hide well back, along small streams, to secrete their camp fires from river travelers. Our friends had moved along by land as we moved by water and this night they joined some other families. There were several of the shelters and a fire burning in front of each around which members of families squatted. This camp was on a wide stream entering the Mazaruni, and screened by an island. As I entered their camp the natives jumped up from the fires. Remembering the captain's instructions I smiled at all of them and said, "Me-a-ree, Me-a-ree."

They replied with the same greeting. I handed the men presents and at once it was understood that I was a friend. Our two hunters dropped the wild boars, squatted beside them and in an amazing short time had them opened and skinned. No butcher at home with clean blocks and keen knives and meat saws ever cut up meat as quickly or as skillfully and neatly as did these men.

The women gathered about and helped them in their work. The bladders were given to two of the smaller boys, brothers of the youth. At once they ran to the water and began to float the bladders and have fun with them just as white children would do.

The intestines were carefully hung on poles by a hot fire of green twigs, to smoke. These, I was told, were to the Indians the "best part of the boar." I took their word for it, politely refusing to taste of some of the smoked intestines they already had on hand. This surprised the people who, I am sure, must have thought that I was all kinds of a fool to refuse such a wonderful treat as that.

"Take what you want," said the old man, pointing to the dressed meat. I selected the hams, shoulders and ribs, and they nodded and walked down to the water to wash. Without a word it was understood that their work was done. The women were to do the rest, even to toting the meat to our camp. Quite a number of the Indians came back to our camp. The meat was given around to our black men, saving some of it for our own meals. Our blacks at once proceeded to build a fire of green twigs and smoke their share of the meat.

In our shelter the Indians squatted. One of the Indians who had heard our victrola pointed at it and made a circular motion with his hand, indicating that he wanted us to make the discs go around. Jimmy was delighted to play host and proceeded to go through our selection of records. The flea-bitten dog backed away and howled at certain places during the concert, but one of the parrots, which had come over perched on a child's shoulder, was deeply interested and flew to the victrola, lighted on it, eyed the revolving record sharply, squawked delight or anger at the music and finally hopped down on the revolving record.

He was probably the most surprised parrot in the world, for that revolving record yanked his feet out from under him and he fell squawking on his back. The way that old parrot flapped off of the victrola and back to the child's shoulder was a caution, squawking and snapping his beak as if he were swearing, in bird talk.

The Indians laughed noisily and shrilly, like children, at this.

We gave the women some little trinkets and all of them a little food. One young woman looked at my hammock and made up a funny face, jabbering to an older woman who nodded, and without a word to me she took down my hammock and began to unravel it. I decided to say nothing and watch her. When it was all unraveled and nothing but a pile of cords she began deftly to weave it again and when she was finished it was as even and smooth as any hammock ever made. She had seen an uneven place in it, knew that it would not be comfortable, and fixed it. I slept much better in it that night. I gave her a piece of scented soap, which delighted her. With great pride she walked around letting everyone have a smell of it. I saw her again and she had bored a hole through the cake and strung it on her necklace. I have often wondered how long it lasted. As the Indians never mind the rain but are out in it just as they are in sunshine, that cake of soap certainly dissolved in time.

Jimmy served me a goodly portion of the boar meat. Both Lewis and myself enjoyed it. The meat was a bit stringy, but it was delicious, nevertheless.

The night dampness and mists began to settle. Without a word the Indians silently departed into the forests, to go back to their shelters and sleep in their hammocks. I asked Jimmy about the vampires and he assured me that the Indians were safe.

"Vampire bats ain't got no use for Injun, suh. Reckin they don't admire the taste of 'em."

The Indians sleep without clothes, other than the mesh-like flaps of the hammocks thrown over them, giving plenty of opportunity for the vampires and also for the really dangerous mosquitoes, which proved my undoing, as I will tell about later. The Indians seldom have jungle fever or malaria and if the mosquitoes do bite them there are no bad effects.