CHAPTER XIX

_HOW THE NATIVES HUNT AND FISH_

For four long, busy months, we were to delve into that pebbly soil, and during that time I would also learn much of hunting and fishing that was strange indeed. I was especially interested in the manner in which the Indians get fish by poisoning them. Of course that seems very unsportsmanlike to us at home, but remember that these natives do not hunt and fish for the _sport_ of it, but to _live_. And then, bear in mind that while we have telescope steel rods and artificial bait and ball bearing automatic reels and oiled silk lines and transparent gut leaders, floats, spoons, spinners, rubber minnows, hundreds of artificial flies, nets for landing the fish, gaffs, and every sort of fishing tackle, these Indians have not even common hooks and sinkers. Spears and harpoon arrows are their only means of fishing, aside from poison. Consequently one should not say that they were unsportsmanlike, although I felt that way about it at first. Thinking it over I decided differently.

They have several means of catching fish by poison and I must say that it is a far better way than that of some of the game hogs in this country who dynamite lakes and rivers for fish, killing far more than they can get, while with the poison the fish not taken soon recover and are as lively as ever.

Our Indians paddled into a small inlet of the river one day where there is quite a deep pool that back-waters in. Hauling the canoe out on land they proceeded to fill it with haiarry vines and water. With heavy sticks they crushed these vines. As I looked on with interest, one Indian pointed to the liquid and said, "Kill um," meaning that it was poison.

After the vines were well crushed they tipped the contents of the canoe into the pool and within five minutes a great quantity of fish arose and floated on the surface. They collected the largest and best of these for food and as soon as the poison in the pool had thinned out the other fish recovered and were as well as ever. I was afraid that the poison would render the fish unfit for food but found that it did not affect them at all in that manner. It certainly was an easy way to catch fish and for a party as large as ours, the twenty blacks and the group of Indian hunters, it took a lot of fish and game to feed us.

Probably the most interesting method of catching fish as practiced by these clever Indians was by means of poisoned grasshoppers. They made a paste of the leaves of the quanamia, a strong narcotic plant. Catching large grasshoppers they filled the stomachs of these insects with the paste and tossed them into the water. The fish would leap up and swallow the grasshoppers, only soon after to turn, belly up, and float on the surface where they were picked up.

Here we found the game more abundant than ever, which was natural as we were far out of the haunts of blacks and Dutch, except for the few "pork knockers," or tramp diamond miners, and there were probably no more than a score all up and down the fields.

Several kinds of animals were shot, but the favorite food was deer and labbas. The tapirs are like great hogs and their meat is rather tough though nourishing. The labbas also belong to the hog family but are about as big as jack rabbits. Small game birds were also plentiful. The maams were the best game birds, about the size of a very small turkey and much like them. The white people call them bush turkeys but scientists say that they do not properly belong to the turkey family. We didn't care what family they belonged to, we found the meat delicious.

I do not mean that the game was so plentiful that it came down to us and begged to be shot. But our Indian hunters seldom went out without bringing back some meat. It was a cheerful sight to see three or four hunters come marching in, each with a part of a great tapir or deer slung over his back. We were sure of "fresh pork," as we called it, for days.

One of our Indians had hunted steadily for three days without any success and he was getting decidedly sore about it. He had not seen an animal in any of his wanderings. When he returned empty handed on the third day I tried to cheer him.

"How come, buck man?"

"No thing," he grunted.

"Too much sit down," I said.

"No sit down!" he protested. "Wakwakwak (walk), all tam wak. Me no see. How can shoot um me no see?"

There was no argument there. If he saw nothing he certainly could bag no game. But this Indian was superstitious, as all are. He got an idea that there was black magic in my camera, and it bothered him.

"Too much humbug," he said, pointing to my camera which I happened to have with me. "You tak picture all tam, put um picture on paper and sho all mans. Deer know this and be bexed (vexed) see um picture on paper. Run away. How go for catch if no see?"

This was a lengthy outburst for an Indian. He had reference to my taking his picture as he came into camp with various kinds of game over his shoulders. He believed that the dead game knew its picture was taken and that its spirit warned the living game to keep away because the picture taking was an insult. He did not reason that the game would be warned to keep away from him to save its life, but only to escape the insult of having its picture taken. Hence his argument that the game was "bexed" and kept out of sight.

"No get um. Must catch beena," he said, earnestly. A "beena" is some sort of a rite or charm that the hunters go through in order to give them good fortune or luck or whatever it is they most desire. There is a different sort of beena for each thing. I gave him a half day holiday to "catch beena." Being especially anxious to bag deer he was going to "catch deer beena." The sly fellow had hidden away somewhere, just for this emergency, the nose of a deer.

Beena may bring good luck but I would not care for good luck earned in that manner. This chap heated the nose of the deer on a shovel over coals until it fairly sizzled. Then he cut slashes, not deep, but enough to draw blood, on his chest, arms and legs and rubbed that hot, greasy nose into the cuts. He believed that the fat thus entering his body or blood would enable him to get all the deer he wished, as it would give him power over them.

That afternoon he went out, and, sure enough, he returned with a big deer. I did not dare photograph it for fear the Indian would become frightened or discouraged, and leave. No power on earth could persuade him that it was due to any other reason than his beena that he got the deer.

As I explained, I took many pictures but lost the greater part of them through attempting to develop the films in the hot climate. Birds of unusual variety, to me, were photographed in plenty. The toucans were interesting birds. They would come quite close to us, and I managed to get a snapshot of one not more than ten feet away, just as he was apparently sharpening his gigantic beak on the shore gravel.

I found the Indians to be not only interesting but very likable chaps. I formed a strong friendship and they likewise became very friendly with me. I learned much of their language, had them at our logie for guests on a great many occasions and, after a manner, got so that I could talk well with them and learn much of their lives, their ambitions, their joys and sorrows. Their language is called "Akowoia."

The taste of the Indians in food I could never learn, such as their terrible drinks, the smoked intestines and the eyes of animals which they cook as a great delicacy. Nor am I at all fond of their pastry. It is simply a dough made of flour, salt and soda mixed with river water and fried in much grease in a frying pan. But their cooked fresh fish, their boiled tapir and other game meats are always good, clean and appetizing.