THE next morning, January 3rd, Serrano took me out for a stroll in the forest, and, after considerable meditation, surprised me by proposing to sell us a half-interest in his business. He then went on to explain his reason, which, briefly, was that he considered that the Peruvian Amazon Company would not dare to molest him were he not a Colombian, and that if some foreigners were interested in his business they would have to keep their hands off him in order to avoid complications. This point seeming reasonable, I asked him about his profits and the price he thought proper, both of which seemed very satisfactory. Returning to the house, I looked over his books, which corresponded with what he had told me, and, after some more conversation, I agreed to consider his proposition and talk it over with Perkins upon his arrival. To tell the truth I was greatly elated over this offer, for the price he asked was ridiculously low in comparison with the annual profits, as revealed by his books. His reason, too, seemed logical, for I could not believe that the “civilising company” would dare to play any such games with Perkins and myself.

At about 2 p.m. Orjuela, a white, handsome, determined-looking man of about thirty-five, arrived, in company with another gentleman, who was introduced to me as SeÑor Gustavo Prieto. Both seemed very decent fellows, and we all took a liking to them at once. They had just come from La UniÓn, where they had learned of the capture of MartÍnez and the horrible raid on Serrano, already described. Orjuela then announced that he had come here on his way to see Loayza, the manager of El Encanto, the Peruvian Amazon Company’s chief post on the CaraparanÁ, with a view of making some arrangement with him tending to put a stop to these occurrences.

The next morning we spent in discussing the situation. Orjuela was confident that if he saw Loayza and had a good, friendly, man-to-man talk with him they could come to some amicable agreement, while Serrano took a more pessimistic view of things, declaring that the Peruvians had for years tried to get possession of the Colombian establishments on the CaraparanÁ, and that now, having a force of Peruvian soldiers to back them, they would take more active measures to attain their ends. This view, however, was shared by none of the others.

In the afternoon Acosta and Prieto set out for La UniÓn in order to inform the Colombians there of the measures Orjuela had decided to take—viz., to demand an interview with Loayza, while Orjuela and SÁnchez made preparations to set out on the following day for El Dorado, the last Colombian establishment, and there invite Loayza to the meeting. They intended going by canoe down the CaraparanÁ.

At about six o’clock, in the midst of a pouring rain, Perkins arrived with the cargadores carrying the effects that we were to sell Serrano. After he had changed his clothes and got outside of some food I told him of Serrano’s proposal, which, after several gasps of amazement, he pronounced worthy of investigation. Then, after some more talk, we resolved that we should stop here with Serrano, look over the estate, and, if satisfied, come to an agreement with him, while I accompanied Orjuela to the conference with a view of informing the Peruvian Amazon Company’s agent, Loayza, that, as we were contemplating the purchase of a part of La Reserva, we should be obliged by their keeping their hands off it.

Assured by Orjuela that his mission was a peaceful one and that there was no probability of any conflict with the Peruvians, I asked permission to accompany him to the conference, which was readily granted; so I made preparations for an early departure on the following morning. Serrano approved of this idea, for he thought that the Peruvians would have some respect for a foreigner.

At six o’clock the next morning Orjuela, SÁnchez, myself, a peon of Orjuela’s, and three of Serrano’s Indian boatmen set out on the trip to El Dorado. We made our way but slowly down the crooked, muddy course of the CaraparanÁ. This river is, I believe, one of the crookedest in the world, for it continually doubles on itself as it winds its way through the dense vegetation that rises up on either bank. At about 10.30 we reached Filadelfia, a deserted establishment formerly belonging to some Colombians, who had sold it to the “civilising company,” by whom it had been abandoned some time previously.

At about four o’clock we arrived at a station, which Orjuela informed me was Argelia, one of the chief centres of the Peruvian Amazon Company. As Orjuela wished to see the agent we disembarked, and, climbing the long hill that rose up from the bank, reached the house, a fairly large structure of unpainted boards, where we were received in a friendly manner by the man in charge, Don Ramiro de Osma y Pardo. We chatted for about half an hour on trivial subjects, had tea, and then took our departure.

When we had disembarked Orjuela had, somewhat to my surprise, ordered the boatmen to go on. I now saw the reason, for I perceived that the river wound around in the woods and formed an enormous peninsula, upon the narrow neck of which Argelia was situated. We then descended the opposite side of the hill and, reaching the river’s bank again, waited several minutes before the men arrived with the boat.

Embarking again, we continued for an hour or so, and then, not finding any convenient playa, Orjuela, SÁnchez, and myself stretched out in the bottom of the boat, while the men slept in the brush on the bank. The monteria was small, and we were three; consequently there was not much room, and we passed a veritable night of torture, cramped and rolling over each other in a manner hardly conducive to a night’s rest.

The next morning the trip was resumed, and, after a tedious descent of several hours, we reached El Dorado at 4.30 p.m. Here we were cordially received by Don Tobias CalderÓn, the man in charge, who informed us that SeÑor Gonzalez, tired to death of the continual raids, robberies, and other abuses of the Peruvians, had gone over on the right bank of the Putumayo to look for some other suitable place to establish himself, where he might be left in peace.

Immediately upon our arrival Orjuela dispatched a note to Loayza by an Indian, who would reach El Encanto within a few hours, travelling by an overland trail. This operation concluded, we took a look at the estate, which was situated on a gently sloping knoll on the left bank. The house was of good size and of the usual elevated construction. The space around it had once been cleared, but was now grown over with bushes and shrubs. I was informed that there were about thirty Indian families attached to the estate; one or two of these were employed at the house, while the rest lived out at their village in the heart of the forest.

The next morning we were surprised to see a number of canoes coming up the river; as they approached nearer Orjuela recognised several of the occupants as Colombian employees of the El Encanto branch of the “civilising company.” Arriving at the house, they informed us that they had all resigned their positions on account of the ill-feeling exhibited towards them by the Peruvians and that they were going to GuepÍ. Another interesting piece of news was that sixty Peruvian soldiers had just arrived from Iquitos on the Liberal, one of the Peruvian Amazon Company’s launches. These ex-employees, although naturally kept in the dark as much as possible by their Peruvian employers, suspected some attack was about to be made on La UniÓn or La Reserva before long, as a Peruvian gunboat had also recently arrived. They had seen MartÍnez, the unfortunate Corregidor, whom they reported as being kept in close confinement at El Encanto.

This news was rather interesting, as it now looked as though we were in for it sure enough. We spent the rest of the day in discussing the different phases of this extraordinary affair and in waiting for Loayza, who did not turn up. This looked like another portent of the approaching storm; but, nevertheless, Orjuela decided to wait another day here. I began to wish that we had never set out on our trip down the Putumayo, if we were to be thus barbarously murdered by a band of half-breed bandits, as the employees of the “civilising company” now revealed themselves to be.

The next morning the eight ex-employees, their families, and boatmen took their departure at about nine o’clock. We waited all day at El Dorado for Loayza, but he never put in an appearance, so Orjuela decided to set out early on the following morning for La Reserva.

In accordance with this resolution, at an early hour we bade adios to our hosts and set out up the river. At about eight o’clock we overtook the ex-employees, who did not seem to be in any great hurry, and continued along with them all day. We made but slow progress, and the journey was tedious in the extreme. At 7 p.m. we stopped to spend another hideous night huddled together in the canoe.

Perceiving that the ex-employees were travelling at a very leisurely pace and wishing to reach La Reserva as soon as possible, the next morning, Friday, the 10th, we passed on ahead of them and travelled more rapidly. At nightfall, in order to avoid another night of torture in the canoe, we disembarked and, clearing a small space on the bank of the stream, went to sleep there, tying the canoe up in the brush.

At about eleven o’clock I was awakened by Orjuela shaking my arm. Cautioning silence, he pointed with his finger at two rapidly approaching lights ascending the river. They were two launches. Passing us in a blaze of light, they quietly continued on upstream. Had the contemplated raid on La UniÓn and La Reserva actually begun? It certainly looked so, and we commenced to wonder if they would allow us to pass Argelia. They certainly had the “drop” on us.

Early in the morning we again set out on our tedious journey up the CaraparanÁ, and at about eleven o’clock passed without molestation the lower port of Argelia—where we had waited for our boatmen after our call on SeÑor De Osma y Pardo. There seemed to be nothing unusual taking place at the house, and our hopes that they would let us pass began to rise again.

Finally, at about 2.30 p.m., we reached the upper port, where we had disembarked. Then we opened our eyes; the agent and an armed peon beckoned and called us to approach. We continued on, pretending not to notice them. Then De Osma y Pardo shouted that they would fire. The peon raised his Winchester to do so, and we started to approach.

As we slowly neared the bank I suggested to Orjuela that as there were only two of them we might drop them when we got up at close quarters and then get away, for we had arms, and the peon as soon as he saw us come towards the shore had let his rifle rest on the ground and was now leaning upon it in a negligent attitude; Orjuela, however, did not seem to think it good policy, so we pulled up at the shore and asked what was up. The agent then informed Orjuela that he was a prisoner, and he and the peon led us—boatmen and all—up to the house. Here he stated that he had received orders to detain Orjuela and two of the Indians; but, having had no instructions in regard to SÁnchez and myself, he announced that we were at liberty to continue on upstream with the peon of Orjuela’s—whom we passed off as my own—and the remaining Indian.

In reply to our protests and inquiries as to the reason for this high-handed proceeding he maintained an absolute silence. Seeing that nothing was to be done, we accordingly took our leave of the unfortunate Orjuela and resumed our journey up the river. We continued rowing until late that night, but were able to make but slow progress, owing to the absence of the other two boatmen. Meanwhile we indulged in many conjectures as to what would happen to us and the people of La Reserva and La UniÓn, completely at the mercy of these latter-day pirates, who seemed to stop at nothing in their greedy ambition to obtain possession of the establishments of the Colombian settlers—Serrano, Gonzalez and OrdoÑez, and MartÍnez.

The next morning we continued the journey, and in about an hour passed Filadelfia. At about nine o’clock we heard rifle-shots, apparently in the vicinity of La UniÓn or La Reserva; these lasted nearly an hour. Then they ceased and silence once more reigned over these vast solitudes, so we pushed on until 8 p.m., when, hearing the whistle of a launch coming down the river, we pulled up along the right bank to avoid the waves caused by the propeller.

Here our Huitoto, the moment we stopped, leaped ashore, and, with a brief remark that the “Peruvians were very wicked,” disappeared in the bushes. I suggested to SÁnchez that we had better follow the aborigine’s example, but he thought that as he was an exile and I was a foreigner we would not be molested, as at Argelia. Against my better judgment I remained, and we sat there in the canoe, waiting for the approach of the marauders.

Soon, turning a bend, two launches appeared, and as soon as we were perceived we heard a voice shout out: “Fire! Fire! Sink the canoe! Sink the canoe!” Before this order could be executed, however, the first vessel, the Liberal of the “civilising company,” had passed us, but the second, the Iquitos, a sort of river gunboat, in the service of the Peruvian Government, let fly at us, one of the bullets passing just between SÁnchez and myself, and splashing into the water a little beyond. Then, at our cries of astonishment and protest, we heard a voice ordering us, in the most vile and obscene words, to approach the launch, and at the same time commanding the soldiers to keep us covered with their carbines. We approached as quickly as possible, but, handicapped by the robbery of our Indian boatmen, were able to make but slow progress. Then we heard once more the order, “Fire! Fire!” the click of the hammers being cocked, and I thought all was over with us. But at this moment an altercation arose between the two chiefs, one of them countermanding this order, while the other insisted upon its execution. Meanwhile, as rapidly as possible, we approached the vessel, and perceived some twenty-five or thirty soldiers all covering us, their rules aimed over the rail, calmly awaiting the final order to launch us into eternity!

Fortunately, the altercation continued between the two bandits long enough to enable us, after what seemed like a century, to reach the side of the Iquitos. Here we were jerked on board, kicked, beaten, insulted, and abused in a most cowardly manner by Captain Arce Benavides of the Peruvian Army, Benito Lores, commander of the Iquitos, and a gang of coffee-coloured soldiers, sailors, and employees of the “civilising company,” without being given a chance to speak a word.

As soon as they had finished their self-imposed task of outraging us in this brutal and cynical manner—defenceless as we were—I told them who we were, and demanded to be allowed to continue our journey, but all in vain, for they merely laughed at me and my protests. Then these conquering heroes, after searching our persons and our canoe and taking possession of the few things we had with us, put us under a sentinel.

This operation accomplished, Captain Benavides entertained us with a horrible account of the “victory” the Peruvians had gained at La UniÓn, the sounds of which we had heard in the morning. He informed us that as the two launches had arrived there that morning the Colombians had treacherously opened fire upon them, and that the Peruvian forces had gallantly repulsed the attack, under his leadership, and killed several of the assaulting party. A peculiar feature of the “battle” was, according to his version, that such Colombians as had not escaped had all been killed outright, there being no wounded.

As I afterwards ascertained, the two launches, upon reaching La UniÓn, had started to disembark the soldiers and employees—probably with the intention of playing the same game as they had played on Serrano a month or so previously—when OrdoÑez ordered them off his premises. At the same time, Prieto unfurled the Colombian flag and the unequal conflict began. There were less than twenty Colombians against about a hundred and forty Peruvians—employees of the criminal syndicate and soldiers and sailors with a machine gun. The Colombians resisted bravely for about half an hour, when, their ammunition giving out, they were compelled to take to the woods, leaving Duarte and two peons dead and Prieto and another peon severely wounded. The latter two were then dispatched most cruelly by some of the “civilising company’s” missionaries. Then the thousand arrobas of rubber were carefully stowed away on the Liberal, the houses were sacked and burned, and several Colombian women, found hiding in the forest, were dragged aboard the two launches as legitimate prey for the “victors.”

While in my enforced state of imprisonment on the Iquitos, I witnessed the cowardly and brutal violation of one of these poor women. Pilar Gutierrez, the woman of Rafael Cano, one of the racionales at La UniÓn, was one of the females found in the bushes after the “battle,” and this poor victim, already in an advanced state of pregnancy, was allotted to Captain —— ——.[94] This human monster, intent only on slaking his animal thirst of lasciviousness, and regardless of the grave state of the unhappy woman’s health, dragged her to a place of privacy and, in spite of the cries of agony of the unfortunate creature, violated her without compunction.

A few hours later we reached Argelia, where both launches stopped for the night side by side. Here we were transferred to the Liberal, where, to my astonishment, I found Perkins and the youth Gabriel Valderrama, one of Serrano’s employees. Perkins then informed me of the horrors committed at La UniÓn and of his own capture, which had been effected upon the return of these latter-day pirates from that sanguinary scene, when they had stopped at La Reserva, broken into and burglarised the house—for Serrano and his men, excepting Valderrama and Perkins, had fled to the forest—embarked the hundred and seventy arrobas of rubber on the Liberal, and destroyed everything they could not steal.

RUBBER-COLLECTING RIVER LAUNCH. [To face p. 176.
RUBBER-COLLECTING RIVER LAUNCH.
[To face p. 176.

That night the four of us, Perkins, SÁnchez, Valderrama, and myself, slept—or rather feigned to sleep—on the deck of the Liberal, plunged in the most gloomy reflections and expecting to be shot or stabbed any moment, for our captors were drunk and in a most bloodthirsty mood. However, we passed the long night without being molested to any appreciable extent.

The next morning, Monday, the 13th, I saw Loayza, a copper-complexioned, shifty-eyed half-breed, who spoke a little pidgin-English, and protested against our imprisonment and demanded to be instantly set at liberty. Loayza listened very politely, and then informed me that he was acting for our own good, as the Colombians would certainly kill us if he did not conduct us to a place of safety. Thinking that possibly the man was—to use a bit of slang—up the pole, I explained that we had no fear of the Colombians, as we had been stopping with them some time, and, furthermore, the things we had heard about the Peruvian Amazon Company and the recent events that had taken place had not been such as to make us believe that this syndicate was a sort of life-saving station. Then, favouring me with a peculiar snake-like smile, he remarked that he would look after us all right and walked off.

At about nine o’clock Orjuela was brought on board under a heavy guard and put down below in a little cage. We were not allowed to speak to him, although several of the “missionaries” seemed to derive much fun by taunting and insulting their unfortunate victim. At about the same time De Osma y Pardo came on board, shook hands with SÁnchez and myself, and explained that he had interceded with Loayza in our behalf, but unsuccessfully. This gentleman did not seem to be much of a favourite with Loayza, and, as I afterwards ascertained, protested against the raid on the Colombians, and in this way incurred that chief’s disapproval.

At about 9.30 the two pirate vessels set sail for El Encanto, and, after descending some five hours, reached El Dorado. Here the bandits, not content with the crimes they had already committed, stopped to execute one more. The criminal Loayza, in company with several more of these pirates, disembarked, entered the house, and, menacing the Colombians with death, compelled them to surrender all their arms. Then, after giving them a long harangue, couched in the most profane and vulgar words, and mingled with the most terrible threats in case they did not immediately abandon the establishment, this worthy “patriot” returned to the launch with the arms he had robbed.

At about six o’clock we reached El Encanto, a straggling group of houses situated upon a long, high hill, several hundred metres from the shore. Here we were not allowed to disembark at first, but were detained on the Liberal, while several of the “missionaries” who had not taken part in the raid came down to the edge of the river and proceeded to insult and taunt us in the most brutal and bloodthirsty terms. When they had finished this dignified task we were disembarked, taken up the hill to the establishment, which was composed of one large, elevated board structure and a number of small huts—these latter grouped together and separated from the former by a narrow courtyard—and crowded into a small, dirty room, which possessed neither beds, chairs, nor tables. No light was given us, and we had to undress in the dark.

Here we passed a night of torture, for we had been given no supper, and the floor, covered with dust and mould as it was, proved to be a far from comfortable couch. In addition to this physical discomfort, we were plunged in the most gloomy and melancholy reflections as to the fate that awaited us at the hands of these human beasts.

As a result of these meditations, we were convinced that they meant to assassinate us, so I determined to have an interview with Loayza at once. Accordingly, the next morning I insisted upon seeing him, and, after some delay, was ushered into his presence. Without wasting time on preliminaries, I told him that I was well aware of his intentions in regard to us, and, in spite of his protestations to the contrary, I went on to inform him that in murdering us he would be making a big mistake, for we had been sent out to explore this region by a huge American syndicate and that we were expected in Iquitos, where we were about to open a large mercantile establishment for the said syndicate.[95] Perceiving that this statement was having some effect on him, I went on to assure him that we were people of importance, and that, if we disappeared, our employers would certainly institute a most searching investigation, and, the truth once discovered, the American Government itself, owing to the great influence of the syndicate that employed us, would see that those responsible received their punishment. Then I wound up by demanding our immediate release and permission to return to Josa to recover our baggage.

Loayza, apparently unnerved by this information, after a little more talk, told me that we could go to Iquitos on the Liberal, which was due to leave with the rubber stolen at La UniÓn and La Reserva in a few days, but that we could not go to Josa to recover our effects, for he himself would see to that. As we had but little faith in his word or that of the military officers, his accomplices, Perkins resolved to stay at El Encanto and see that he really did take steps to do this, while I went on to Iquitos with the Liberal.

As we were allowed to walk around the houses without being molested—although an eye was always kept on us by some one—we had the opportunity to witness the lamentable condition of the unfortunate Corregidor Gabriel MartÍnez and his men, who were confined, as though they were desperate criminals, in a small, dirty, eight-by-ten-foot room under the main house and guarded night and day by two soldiers. These poor wretches, in a starving condition, were insulted, taunted, and abused daily by word and deed in a most cowardly manner. Orjuela, all this time, was kept in close confinement on the Liberal.

Another edifying spectacle that we witnessed was the condition of the poor Indians who loaded and unloaded the vessels that stopped at the port. There were from fifty to sixty of these unfortunates, so weak, debilitated, and scarred that many of them could hardly walk. It was a pitiful sight to see these poor Indians, practically naked, their bones almost protruding through their skins, and all branded with the infamous marca de Arana,[96] staggering up the steep hill, carrying upon their doubled backs enormous weights of merchandise for the consumption of their miserable oppressors. Occasionally one of these unfortunate victims of Peruvian “civilisation” would fall under his load, only to be kicked up on his feet and forced to continue his stern labours by the brutal “boss.”

I noticed the food they received, which was given to them once a day, at noon; it consisted of a handful of fariÑa and a tin of sardines—when there were any—for each group of four Indians, nothing more. And this was to sustain them for twenty-four hours, sixteen of which were spent at the hardest kind of labour!

But what was still more pitiful was to see the sick and dying lie about the house and out in the adjacent woods, unable to move and without any one to aid them in their agony. These poor wretches, without remedies, without food, were exposed to the burning rays of the vertical sun and the cold rains and heavy dews of early morning until death released them from their sufferings. Then their companions carried their cold corpses—many of them in an almost complete state of putrefaction—to the river, and the yellow, turbid waters of the CaraparanÁ closed silently over them.

Another sad sight was the large number of involuntary concubines who pined—in melancholy musings over their lost liberty and their present sufferings—in the interior of the house. This band of unfortunates was composed of some thirteen young girls, who varied in age from nine to sixteen years, and these poor innocents—too young to be called women—were the helpless victims of Loayza and the other chief officials of the Peruvian Amazon Company’s El Encanto branch, who violated these tender children without the slightest compunction, and when they tired of them either murdered them or flogged them and sent them back to their tribes.

Let us now take a glance at the system pursued by this “civilising company” in the exploitation of the products of this region—that is, the exploitation of the rubber and of the Indians. This system I afterwards ascertained to be as follows:—

The whole region under the control of this criminal syndicate is divided up into two departments, the chief centres of which are El Encanto and La Chorrera. El Encanto is the headquarters of all the sections of the CaraparanÁ and the right bank of the Putumayo, while La Chorrera is the capital of the sections of the IgaraparanÁ and those distributed between that river and the CaquetÁ. As already stated, the superintendent of El Encanto is Loayza, while that of La Chorrera is the celebrated Victor Macedo.

It is to these two centres that all the products are sent periodically on the backs of Indians, by canoe, or in small launches. Once here, it is shipped to Iquitos about every three months. At each of these centres all books are kept and all payments to the employees are made. The superintendents have the power of hiring and discharging all the men employed under them, and their slightest whim is law.

These two departments, as already hinted, are subdivided into sections, at the head of which are placed chiefs, under the instructions of the superintendents. Each chief has under his control a number of racionales, varying from five to eighty, whose business it is to direct the Indians and force them to work. The chief of the section keeps a list of all the Indians resident in his section, and assigns to each worker—in some sections this term includes women and children—the number of kilos of rubber that he must deliver every ten days.

Armed with machetes, the Indians penetrate the depths of the forest, gashing frightfully every rubber-tree they can find, frequently cutting them so much and so deep, in their frantic efforts to extract the last drop of milk, that vast numbers of the trees die annually. The milk runs down the trunk of the tree and dries there. A few days afterwards the Indians return, and, gathering up the strings of rubber, place them in baskets, which they carry to their huts on their backs.

Here, in order to remove some of the pieces of wood, dry leaves, chunks of bark, sand, and other impurities, the Indians place the rubber in a quebrada and beat it well with clubs; in this way a few of the many foreign matters are removed and the rubber is made more compact. It is then wound up in big rolls, and, exposed to the air and the light, it soon becomes of a dull, blackish colour, and is ready for delivery.

At the expiration of the ten days the slaves start out with their loads upon their backs, accompanied by their women and children, who help them to carry the rubber. When they reach the section-house, the rubber is weighed in the presence of the chief of the section and his armed subordinates. The Indians know by experience what the needle of the balance should mark, and when it indicates that they have delivered the full amount they leap about and laugh with pleasure. When it does not, they throw themselves face downwards on the ground, and in this attitude await their punishment.

As the rubber gets scarcer and scarcer the aborigines, in order to be able to deliver the full amount of rubber demanded from them, and thus to escape flagellations and tortures, frequently adulterate the rubber-milk with that of various other trees, in this way still further lowering the quality of the Putumayo rubber; for, as already remarked, all that produced in this section is what is technically known as jebe dÉbil.

It will be easily seen that such a system—a system of organised robbery—of collection of rubber is likely to lend itself to abuse in a country where every man is a law unto himself, and there is absolutely no check upon the exercise of his most brutal instincts and passions. The probability of such abuse is increased immensely when—as in the present case—the earnings of the employees are made dependent on results, for Loayza, Macedo, and the chiefs of sections are paid, not salaries but commissions on the amount of rubber produced.

Thus it is to their advantage to extract the greatest amount of rubber in the least possible space of time, and to do this the Indians must either be paid or punished. If paid, the payment must be great enough to tempt a placid, indolent Indian to continuous exertion; if punished, the punishment must be severe enough to extract from his fears what cannot be obtained from an appeal to his cupidity. As the “civilising company” apparently does not believe in paying for what it can obtain otherwise, the rule of terror has been adopted throughout the company’s dominions. Those who have studied the history of the Congo will see here precisely the same conditions which produced such lamentable results in the Belgian companies’ sphere of operations. It would be strange indeed if, under such a system, some sort of abuse did not take place, and I am in possession of definite documentary evidence which, I think, justifies me in making the following statements as to the results of this system:—

1. The pacific Indians of the Putumayo are forced to work day and night at the extraction of rubber, without the slightest remuneration except the food necessary to keep them alive.

2. They are kept in the most complete nakedness, many of them not even possessing the biblical fig-leaf.

3. They are robbed of their crops, their women, and their children to satisfy the voracity, lasciviousness, and avarice of this company and its employees, who live on their food and violate their women.

4. They are sold wholesale and retail in Iquitos, at prices that range from £20 to £40 each.

5. They are flogged inhumanly until their bones are laid bare, and great raw sores cover them.

6. They are given no medical treatment, but are left to die, eaten by maggots, when they serve as food for the chiefs’ dogs.

7. They are castrated and mutilated, and their ears, fingers, arms, and legs are cut off.

8. They are tortured by means of fire and water, and by tying them up, crucified head down.

9. Their houses and crops are burned and destroyed wantonly and for amusement.

10. They are cut to pieces and dismembered with knives, axes, and machetes.

11. Their children are grasped by the feet and their heads are dashed against trees and walls until their brains fly out.

12. Their old folk are killed when they are no longer able to work for the company.

13. Men, women, and children are shot to provide amusement for the employees or to celebrate the sÁbado de gloria, or, in preference to this, they are burned with kerosene so that the employees may enjoy their desperate agony.

This is indeed a horrible indictment, and may seem incredible to many. On the other hand, we all know the inhuman atrocities of the Congo, and it seems reasonable to suppose that the conditions that have made that region so notorious do not fail to produce precisely similar results in the vast and isolated region of the Putumayo. In addition to this, during my subsequent investigations in Iquitos I obtained from a number of eye-witnesses accounts[97] of many of the abominable outrages that take place here hourly, and these, with my own observations, are the basis for the indictment.

This state of affairs is intolerable. The region monopolised by this company is a living hell—a place where unbridled cruelty and its twin-brother, lust, run riot, with consequences too horrible to put down in writing. It is a blot on civilisation; and the reek of its abominations mounts to heaven in fumes of shame. Why is it not stopped? Peru will not, because this company is settling in and occupying the disputed territory in her name. Colombia and Ecuador cannot, for they are not in a condition to quarrel with Peru.

And it is all for—what? Merely to fill the pockets and gratify the passions of a handful of miserable, half-breed outlaws, who take advantage of their autocratic authority over the helpless Huitotos to commit the most horrible and unheard-of crimes, and to keep others, who share the responsibility of these horrors, in luxury and fine clothes away off across the seas.

The next morning—Wednesday, the 15th—the Liberal left for Argelia, taking three officers and about seventy men, probably to defend that establishment against the attacks of those terrible fellows, the Colombians. One officer and the rest of the men, about thirty, remained at El Encanto to garrison it, while two more remained here to go to Iquitos upon the return of the Liberal, in order to spread the reports of the “victory” gained over the Colombians at La UniÓn.

We spent the day wandering restlessly about the establishment and the large, rolling cleared area that surrounds it. In the afternoon we endeavoured to speak to MartÍnez, but were not permitted to do so, probably by orders of Loayza, who seemed to spend most of his time taking Florida-water baths, drinking wine and whisky, and fooling around with his different concubines. The other upper officials followed his example more or less.

Early the next day the Liberal returned from Argelia, and lay at the port all day, waiting for the report that Loayza was writing up for his chief in Iquitos. This literary labour occupied him until nightfall, when, being concluded, it was given to the captain of the Liberal, the infamous Carlos Zubiaur, otherwise “Paiche,” and we were told to get on board, as the vessel sailed early in the morning.

In accordance with these instructions, we went down and started to embark. At the gang-plank we were met by Zubiaur, who, with an enormous stick of firewood in his hands, demanded £17 each for our passage money. As Loayza had informed us that he would give us free passages as a slight compensation for what we had gone through, both SÁnchez and myself were considerably surprised at this demand, and protested loudly against it. Zubiaur was inflexible, however, and whirled his stick of firewood about our heads so violently while he informed us that nobody travelled gratis on his launch, that we were finally compelled to pay the wretch what he asked for.

Once on board, where Perkins accompanied us to say goodbye, we found that we had been done out of our dinner, for, when we finally asked for it, we were told that this meal had already been eaten and that we were too late. So after a last farewell to Perkins, who, in accordance with our decision, had decided to remain behind in order to recover our effects, SÁnchez and I again made our way to the ferocious Zubiaur and asked to be conducted to our cabin.

The pirate stared at us in amazement for fully a minute before he proceeded to inform us that there were no cabins for us and that we were to sleep on the deck. Upon our remonstrance that we had paid first-class fare and a request to pay us back the difference between that and the third-class that he was giving us, he reached for his ever-present stick of firewood, and, this once in his hands, took the trouble to explain to us that he was only taking us as a favour, that the few cabins were already occupied, and that if we did not like it we could get off his launch. So saying, he turned clumsily on his heel and strode off.

Fortunately, when we had started for El Dorado, we had taken our hammocks along, so we proceeded to hang them up in out-of-the-way corners by the advice of one of the two officers. As the pirate-captain raised no objection to this, we climbed in them and were trying to forget our lost dinner, when the fiend came up again and told us that they were in an inconvenient place and must be shifted. This made me so angry—for I knew it was done only to henpeck us—that I absolutely refused to budge an inch, and when he threatened to call up some of his men, I was so wild that I told him that if he dared molest us again during the trip, I should beat his brains out with a club the instant we got off the launch at Iquitos. The pirate drew back, stared at me for fully a minute, and then slowly retired. I imagined that perhaps he would try some other game, but he was quite cured for all the rest of the trip, and did not molest us once.

This affair settled, we had just got asleep, when suddenly we were awakened by a number of loud shouts, jeers, and laughs. Thinking that possibly it might be a midnight murder, or something of the sort, I rushed to the side of the launch and perceived that MartÍnez and his men were being escorted by a number of “missionaries” to the vessel. Descending to the lower deck, I saw them shut him and his seven men up in the same cage with Orjuela; here the wretches continued to insult and abuse their unfortunate victims for more than half an hour. I observed, before retiring to my hammock, that the cage was so small that there was scarcely room enough for the nine prisoners to sit down together, and dirty in the extreme.

The next morning, the 17th, we left El Encanto at about five o’clock, and by seven we had entered the Putumayo, which was very wide and dotted with large, heavily wooded islands. Along the banks numerous sandy playas appeared from time to time. It was like seeing an old friend again, and I commenced to think of the time we were shipwrecked and subsisted chiefly on turtle-eggs.

This made me think of breakfast, so awakening SÁnchez, we sat down at the table, where the pirate-captain and most of the passengers were already beginning. The meal was execrable, being composed only of watery tea, a quantity of extremely stale bread, and some evil-smelling butter. We all munched this unpalatable fare in silence until we had eaten all we could of it, when we left the table.

During the rest of the forenoon SÁnchez and I got acquainted with the other passengers. One of the officers, Lieutenant Ghiorzo, an extremely stout, dark-complexioned man, turned out to be under arrest for refusing to take part in the raid on La UniÓn, and was in charge of the other one, a tall, blonde, cadaverous-looking man, named Lieutenant Albarracin, who proved to be none other than the brother of the Peruvian whom we had met in Pasto, and who had given us a letter of introduction to his brother, whom he thought to be in Iquitos. Although the letter had been left in our trunks with the rest of our effects, I told the Lieutenant about it, and he was very cordial towards me during the whole trip. Ghiorzo also seemed very affable.

Another passenger was a young, copper-coloured Colombian merchant named Patrocinio Cuellar, who it appears had brought some merchandise down from Colombia for the “civilising company,” which had been lost or destroyed about the time of the raid on La UniÓn. He was going to the headquarters of the company at Iquitos to see if they would reimburse him. Cuellar associated, as a rule, with an individual named BartolomÉ Guevara, a short, carate-covered man, to whom I took an instinctive dislike. He was a chief of section who had recently resigned his position at El Encanto, and was now en route to Spain to spend some of the money he had extracted from the tears, the bitter agony, the very life-blood of the unfortunate Indians under his control. I afterwards ascertained that he was one of the most noted of the Putumayo “missionaries.”

Another person whom I regarded with almost equal abhorrence was a copper-complexioned rascal named CÉsar LÚrquin, the Peruvian Comisario of the Putumayo. This miserable wretch was openly taking with him to Iquitos a little Huitoto girl of some seven years, presumably to sell her as a “servant,” for it is a well-known fact that this repugnant traffic in human beings is carried on, almost openly, there. His position was a sinecure, for, instead of stopping on the Putumayo, travelling about there and really making efforts to suppress crime by punishing the criminals, he contented himself with visiting the region four or five times a year—always on the company’s launches—stopping a week or so, collecting some children to sell, and then returning and making his “report.”

The remaining “first-class” passenger was a Brazilian custom-house inspector, who always travelled with the company’s launches in order to see that they did not discharge any cargo while passing through Brazilian territory. He seemed a very quiet chap, I imagine because he did not know Spanish. This gentleman spent most of his time in his hammock, for, like SÁnchez and myself, he had no cabin.

Lunch and dinner were very similar to breakfast, for we had the same watery tea, the same stale bread, and the same stinking butter, the only additional dish being a repugnant preparation of codfish. The pirate-captain and his chum, the comisario, however, as I ascertained later, after eating a little of this miserable stuff, adjourned to the former’s cabin and enjoyed a magnificent spread, all by themselves.

We continued running all night, for the river was swollen and there was no necessity to follow the main channel. At about two o’clock in the afternoon we reached the mouth of the IgaraparanÁ, which is considerably larger than the CaraparanÁ and also on the left. Near the junction was a small, cleared area on the high left bank of the Putumayo, and to this we directed our course. Anchoring close to the bank, I perceived that the place was a military post, for, as soon as we approached a number of soldiers—about twenty—and two officers emerged from an old tumble-down structure that sheltered them, and came on board. They all looked ill and emaciated, and their faces and hands were done up in rags to keep off the gnats.

For over two hours we stopped here, fighting these little fiends, which swarmed about us in perfect clouds, while the pirate and the comisario related to the two lieutenants a full account of the “brilliant victory” gained at La UniÓn. Meanwhile, I learned that the name of the place was Arica, and that it was situated about 1° 43’ 9” south of the equator and 71° 53’ 36” west of Greenwich.

At last the enthralling tale of the “victory” was finished, and we set out up the IgaraparanÁ, for, it seemed, the worthy Zubiaur had been so complimented upon his bravery by the two officers that he resolved to go and inform some other friends of his up that river of the same gallant deed. We were all glad to set out in some direction, for the gnats did not trouble us much when the launch was in motion.

The Liberal continued the ascent until a late hour, when we retired. The next morning when I awoke, I perceived that we were anchored off another establishment, which I was informed by AlbarracÍn was Santa Julia, one of the chief sections of the “civilising company” in IgaraparanÁ district. The two or three small huts were of split-palm with a thatched roof, while the clearing around them was small and neglected-looking. Santa Julia, Ghiorzo informed me, is the shipping-port for the section Abisinia, some twelve hours’ walk inland.

As we were taking on a quantity of firewood, another launch, the Cosmopolita, appeared and came up alongside of us. Here SÁnchez was overjoyed to meet once more with his companion exiles, who had left El Encanto about a month previously on this launch, bound for Iquitos. Instead of going there, however, the Cosmopolita had gone up to La Chorrera, stopped there all this time, and was now about to accompany the Liberal. Although we saw them only for a few moments, the meeting cheered up SÁnchez immensely, while I took an instant liking to them.

La Chorrera, the headquarters of the IgaraparanÁ district, they described as being larger than El Encanto, and situated on the borders of a little lake at the head of navigation on the IgaraparanÁ. They furthermore informed me that La Chorrera was about twenty-four hours’ run above Santa Julia.

At Santa Julia, La Chorrera, and the other stations along the banks of the Lower and Central IgaraparanÁ, the victims are a tribe of aborigines known as the Boras, several of whom I saw in a practically naked condition at Santa Julia. These Indians are distinct from the Huitotos, and speak a dialect of their own called Bora. They are of a lighter colour and much more intelligent and fierce than the former; thus they do not submit so sheepishly to the persecutions and atrocities of the “civilising company,” and many of them have escaped to the left bank of the River CaquetÁ, out of reach of their verdugos.[98]

The other sections between the IgaraparanÁ and CaquetÁ have as victims several other tribes of aborigines, chief of which are the Andoques, the Yurias, the Ocainas, and the Yaguas. All these tribes speak a distinct dialect of their own, although closely resembling the Huitotos in habits, customs, &c. The Andoques are the largest tribe, but none are so numerous as the Huitotos.

The firewood at length on board and the gallant Zubiaur’s tale of the “victory” finally terminated, at about eight o’clock we set out down the IgaraparanÁ, accompanied by the Cosmopolita. After a not unpleasant journey of several hours, we again reached Arica at about 3 p.m., where we stopped for the rest of the day. Here we were again tortured by the gnats, which soon became so ferocious that I was obliged to don my veil and gloves; the heat, however, was so suffocating that I had to take them off again shortly.

After a tedious journey of several days, made in company with the celebrated criminal BartolomÉ Guevara and Lieuts. AlbarracÍn and Ghiorzo of the Peruvian Army, the jailers of Orjuela, MartÍnez, and their men, who were confined in the small and loathsome cage, previously mentioned, which was so diminutive that there was not sufficient space for them all to sit down at the same time, we at last arrived at Iquitos on February 1st.

Here I informed the dentist Guy T. King, acting American Consul in this place, of the events already narrated to the reader; but this gentleman, considering solely and exclusively his own interests and forgetting the duties that his position as Consul incurred upon him, contented himself with congratulating me upon my narrow escape from death at the hands of the assassins of Arana and informing me that, owing to various circumstances, he could do absolutely nothing for us![99]

Towards the end of April Perkins arrived without our baggage; for the miserable murderers of El Encanto, their cupidity aroused by the idea of getting something for nothing, had stolen it while Perkins was held prisoner at that place. Thus they became aware of the deception I had practised upon them in regard to the American syndicate, and so great was their anger that they were upon the point of murdering Perkins, but their fears getting the better of them, they contented themselves with keeping him a close prisoner and abusing him, as is their custom.

Although the effects we had been robbed of were of considerable value and the hardships and perils through which we had passed while in the hands of the employees of this syndicate were distinctly unpleasant, nevertheless I consider that on the whole we were extremely fortunate in making our escape from the sanguinary selvas of the River Putumayo and from the tender mercies of those human hyenas, the assassin-employees of Arana.

From the horrors described in the following chapter the reader will be in a position to form a faint idea of the hellish and wholesale crimes committed upon these unfortunates; not a complete one, for in order to do that it would be necessary for him to come here and see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears what really takes place in these gruesome forests; but nevertheless he will, I repeat, be able to get some glimmering of the awful truth.

In making these exposures I have obeyed only the dictates of my conscience and my own sense of outraged justice; and now that I have made them and the civilised world is aware of what occurs in the vast and tragic selvas of the River Putumayo, I feel that, as an honest man, I have done my duty before God and before society and trust that others, who are in a position to do so, will take up the defence of these unfortunates and the prosecution and punishment of the human hyenas responsible for these crimes.

NATIVE WOMEN AND HUT AT IQUITOS. [To face p. 196.
NATIVE WOMEN AND HUT AT IQUITOS.
[To face p. 196.

As will be shown, over the whole length and breadth of this vast region reigns one perpetual and devilish carnival of crime; in short, words are unable to convey any idea of this gruesome field of blood and crime and bleached skeletons, rotting under the falling leaves of the forest trees. It is a living hell. No wonder that the vegetation is so luxuriant here, for the soil has been deluged with the blood of so many innocent victims of the bestial greed and rapacity of these vile monsters that it should be the richest on earth!

Tribe after tribe of the peaceful and hospitable Indians of these forests has disappeared before the onslaughts of Peruvian “civilisation.” Colombian after Colombian has been foully murdered by these miserable criminals, until at last they were exterminated and their establishments, so long coveted by the syndicate of crime, passed into its unclean hands.

As we shall see in the subsequent pages of this catalogue of horrors, the Peruvian authorities of the Department of Loreto, thanks to an unparalleled system of wholesale bribery—for in this way only can we explain their conduct—do absolutely nothing to put a stop to this state of affairs. We observe a type of the comisarios[100] of this region; and also the attitude of the Prefect[101] in regard to these horrors; and we are aware that the denunciations of SaldaÑa were neglected, passed over and finally pigeon-holed by the judicial authorities of Iquitos. From this it is evident that justice cannot be looked for from that quarter.

I venture to state that within four or five years more—if this awful butchery is allowed to continue (which I do not believe)—these immense forests, formerly occupied by tens of thousands of peaceful, industrious Indians, quite capable of civilisation and Christianity, will be but huge and silent sepulchres, sown with the unburied bones of the unfortunate victims of an exploitation without parallel in history.

But is this to be permitted? Although we are too late to save the larger part of these victims, who have already passed out of existence, let us rescue the few we can and mete out punishment to the fiends who are filling their pockets with the gold produced by the very life-blood, the sweat, the tears, the agony of these unfortunates. Let us do what we can, at this late hour, to release the helpless Indians of the Putumayo from the cruel and inquisitorial yoke that these human hyenas have riveted upon them.

Think of nine-year-old girls torn from their homes, ravished, and afterwards tortured or flogged to death; of sucking infants snatched from their mothers’ arms and their heads smashed against a tree; of a wife having her legs cut off merely for refusing to become one of the concubines of these bandits; of men flogged until ...[102] or of old fathers shot to death before their sons’ eyes merely because they were old and could work no longer!

The poor Indian, in spite of the diabolical “civilisation” of the Peruvians, has never been taught to read or write, has no friends to protect him, and, notwithstanding his thirteen years of contact with this “civilising company” of Arana, has never even heard of the existence of God, and his untutored mind is seared and benumbed by the long years of cruel suffering at the hands of these monsters. Heathen and Indian they are, but they are human, just as we are; they have souls; they have affections and love and cherish their dear ones just as we do ours; they are our brothers. And if they are stupid, heathen, ignorant, whose fault is it? Is it not the fault of these fiends who for years have taken advantage of their ignorance and helplessness, exploited their meekness and humility, and fastened upon them the iron chains of the shocking slavery in which they are now held? And when we see that they are ignorant, heathen, and helpless and cannot protest against their horrible fate, is it not our duty, for that very reason, to defend them the more energetically?

The origin and history of the Peruvian Amazon Company are as follows:—

In the latter eighties of the last century Julio CÉsar Arana arrived at Iquitos barefooted, hawking Panama hats; but soon, by good luck and a certain low cunning with which he is endowed, he succeeded in building up a small business in peddling along the rivers. This business, confined at first only to hats, &c., he afterwards extended to a variety of articles and did fairly well at it.

Learning of the rich rubber forests of the Putumayo, which were then being exploited by several small Colombian companies established there, he entered the Putumayo in 1896, and soon afterwards formed a partnership with Benjamin and Rafael LarraÑaga,[103] owners of the establishments of La Chorrera. Subsequently he also associated himself with other Colombian companies there, and these enterprises proving profitable, in 1898 he opened a house in Iquitos, and in 1903, together with his brother Lizardo,[B] and his brothers-in-law, Pablo Zumaeta[B] and Abel Alarco,[104] founded the celebrated J. C. Arana and Hermanos Company, with a branch house in Manaos, Brazil.

In 1904 this company bought out the LarraÑagas’ holdings at La Chorrera, taking advantage of their ignorance and stupidity to rob them scandalously. Thus they remained sole masters of the whole IgaraparanÁ. A little later they also acquired the establishments of CalderÓn Hermanos at Encanto and that of HipÓlito PÉrez at Argelia, robbing them also, according to their custom. They were now the principal company in the whole Putumayo.

Not content with this, however, and urged on by the rapacity of Julio CÉsar Arana and his accomplices, they forced JosÉ Cabrera, owner of Nueva Granada, to sell out to them at an insignificant price by threats of killing him, by shooting at him from ambush, by forcibly taking away his Indians, and by the other methods for which this company is known.[105]

The next step in the progress of the syndicate was the beginning of a systematic persecution of the three remaining Colombian establishments of OrdoÑez, Serrano, and Gonzalez, with the object of making them abandon the region and then taking possession of their properties. This persecution took the form of robberies of their merchandise, rubber, and Indians, murders of their employees, refusals to sell them supplies, and all other vile expedients that cunning could suggest. The Colombians held on, however, in spite of these persecutions, and it was not until 1908 that the black flag of this criminal company, planted over their dead bodies, finally waved over the whole of this unfortunate region.

In 1905 Julio CÉsar went to England and succeeded in interesting some London gentlemen in the “possessions” of the J. C. Arana and Hermanos Company in this region. An accountant was sent out to examine the books, which were apparently found to be satisfactory, and on October 1, 1907, the Peruvian Amazon Rubber Company, Ltd., was formed, with a capital of £1,000,000 sterling, divided, according to the prospectus, into 300,000 7 per cent. participating preference shares at £1 each and 700,000 ordinary shares, also at £1 each. In 1908 the word “Rubber” was stricken out, and this syndicate of crime is now known as the Peruvian Amazon Company, Ltd.

Having failed in their attempt to foist upon the public their worthless shares, they decided to increase the assets of the company. This was done in 1908[106] by the simple process of collecting a small army of their assassins and murdering the already mentioned Colombians and their employees and taking possession of their establishments. Serrano, Gonzalez, and their employees were murdered in cold blood, their women were added to the harems of the employees of the company, their Indians were enslaved, their rubber and merchandise stolen, and their establishments taken possession of. OrdoÑez succeeded in escaping with his life, but had to abandon everything else—his rubber, his house, his Indians—to the agents of the company, who are now in full possession of everything and are exploiting the properties of their unfortunate victims.

Let us now take a glance at the system pursued by this “civilising company” in the exploitation of the products of this region—that is, the exploitation of the rubber and of the Indians.

The whole territory is divided up into sections, at the head of which are placed chiefs, each one with a gang of bandits, varying in number from five to eighty, to control the Indians and force them to work. The chief of the section keeps a list of the Indians and assigns to each one the number of kilos of rubber he must deliver every ten days. The prettiest of the women are taken away from the Indians and become concubines of the chief of section and his band, the chief generally having from three to twelve and the others in proportion.

La Chorrera, the chief of which is the celebrated Victor Macedo, is the centre to which the products of all the sections of the IgaraparanÁ and those distributed between that river and the CaquetÁ are sent periodically. Here all the books, &c., are kept and all payments to the employees are made. Macedo is the chief of all the employees in this territory, and has the power of employing or discharging men, the fixing of salaries, &c.; and it is with the knowledge, consent, and approval of this wretch that these incredible crimes are carried out. This torturer and assassin is the justice of the peace of the Putumayo.

El Encanto is the chief centre of the CaraparanÁ, exactly as La Chorrera is of the IgaraparanÁ, and its manager, Miguel S. Loayza, has similar powers to those of Macedo. This is the individual who superintended the murders of Serrano and Gonzalez and the other crimes committed upon these two unfortunates, upon OrdoÑez, and upon their women and children, Indians and employees.

All the rubber produced in the whole region now being exploited by the “civilising company” is transported upon the backs of Indians, in canoes, or in small launches to these two centres, from whence it is shipped to Iquitos about every three months.

Macedo, Loayza, and the chiefs of sections are paid, not salaries but commissions upon the amount of rubber produced. Thus it is to their interest to extract the greatest amount of rubber in the least possible space of time, and to do this it is necessary to force the Indians to work night and day. The best method of obliging them to do this is to impose certain amounts which they should deliver in a fixed time. Once this rule is made it must be enforced, and if the Indian does not deliver as much as he has been ordered to he must be punished. The punishment must be severe enough to strike terror into the hearts of the other Indians, so that they will not follow the example of the culprit.

The Indians collect all this rubber gratis: the only compensation they receive is flagellation, torture, and death if they should lack half a kilo of the amount imposed upon them; a mirror, a handkerchief, an ounce of beads if they deliver the full amount. They are doomed and defenceless victims of an exploitation unparalleled in the history of the entire world.

Should the unfortunate Indian lack even half a kilo of rubber, he is mercilessly flogged, being given from five to two hundred lashes, according to the enormity of his crime. As the poor wretches receive absolutely no medical treatment, within a few days these wounds putrefy, maggots make their appearance, and the miserable victims of this form of Peruvian “civilisation” die a lingering and repulsive death. Their bodies are left to rot where they fall, or else the well-trained dogs of their “civilisers” drag them out into the forest. Indeed, in some sections such an odour of putrefying flesh arises from the numerous bodies of the victims that the place must be temporarily abandoned.Often when some poor Indian, seeing that he could not deliver at the fixed time the amount of rubber imposed upon him, has fled, they take his tender children and torture them until they disclose the whereabouts of their unhappy father. Their favourite mode of torture is by suspending them from a tree and building a fire beneath them, by using the celebrated “water cure,” and by suspending them from four posts, piling logs of wood, &c., on their tensioned bodies until they are forced to speak. Besides the methods already mentioned they frequently employ others,[107] so revolting that it is impossible to describe them.

Another common form of punishment is that of mutilations, such as cutting off arms, legs, noses, ears, penises, hands, feet, and even heads. Castrations are also a popular punishment for such crimes as trying to escape, for being lazy, or for being stupid, while frequently they employ these forms of mutilation merely to relieve the monotony of continual floggings and murders and to provide a sort of recreation. The victims generally die within a few days, or if they do not die they are murdered, for it is said that in 1906 Macedo issued an order to his subordinates advising them to kill all mutilated Indians at once for the following reasons: first, because they consumed food although they could not work; and second, because it looked bad to have these mutilated wretches running about. This wise precaution of Macedo’s makes it difficult to find any mutilated Indians there, in spite of the number of mutilations; for, obeying this order, the executioners kill all the Indians they mutilate, after they have suffered what they consider a sufficient space of time.

By way of amusement these employees of the company often enjoy a little tiro al blanco, or target-shooting, the target being little Indian children whose parents have been murdered. The little innocents are tied up to trees, the murderers take their positions, and the slaughter begins. First they shoot off an ear or hand, then another, and so on until an unlucky bullet strikes a vital part and puts an end to their sport.

Often on holidays and fiestas, in order to see the weak, starving, and cadaverous Indians run, these people fire into a group of them, and generally manage to bring down several before their victims have got out of reach.

When one of these agents sees a girl he wants he takes her, and her father or husband dare not protest, for he would be tortured to death at once. After he is satisfied, if he still likes the woman, he adds her to his harem; if not, he either lets her go or, as has happened, has her flogged to death. As I have before remarked, nearly all these agents possess a harem of two to twelve Indian girls, varying in age from eight to fifteen years. These defenceless children are violated without the least compassion, and when they tire of one she is either brutally kicked out of the house and sent back to her tribe or else murdered on the spot.

Murders and assassinations are so common here that some of the chiefs of sections and their subordinates do not pass without killing in cold blood from one to five, or even more, of the helpless Huitotos. Any pretext serves, as when the Indian does not understand them or when he is not punctual to the minute; and, indeed, they often kill them for amusement, to fill the other Indians with a fear of the “whites,” or to practise target-shooting. These murders, let it be understood, are not confined entirely to the slaughters of Indians, for many are the civilizados, Peruvians as well as Colombians, who have incurred the ill-will of these bandits.

Extortions are practised continually in this part of Peru by the company and its employees. Apart from the robberies of the rubber extracted by the Indians, the lesser employees are robbed of a part or of all their salary balances. The profits from these thefts generally go to swell the pockets of the chiefs of sections and those of the higher employees.

As I have before remarked, the unhappy Indians, far from getting paid for the rubber they deliver, are not even given food to eat while they work, and what appears more incredible is that they are given no opportunity to cultivate food of their own; for such is the criminal rapacity of this company that they not only compel the Indian women to cultivate the food for their men and themselves, but also for their oppressors, who help themselves to all they want and waste and destroy as much as they please, the little that is left constituting, with a few forest products, the food of the unfortunate and starving Indians.

The dress of the Huitotos has already been described, and, after thirteen years of close contact with the company, we find these people still stark naked.

But most remarkable are the correrÍas which the agents of the company carry out periodically. The crimes of the Spanish Inquisition are pale compared with the deeds committed in this vast den of crime. Upon the occasions of these correrÍas the operation is as follows: The chief of section orders his subordinates to arm themselves and set out for the village of the Indians to receive the rubber, which, as we have observed, should be delivered every ten days. They make their way to the principal house, where the Indians should be assembled ready to deliver the rubber. Once here they call the roll, on which is noted the number of kilograms each Indian should have ready.

As each Indian’s name is called he steps up and delivers the rubber he has collected, which is weighed on the spot. Occasionally a kilogram or two are lacking, and in this case the Indian is given from twenty-five to one hundred lashes by the Barbados negroes, who only for this purpose—that is, as executioners—have been brought here. At about the tenth blow the victim generally falls unconscious from the effects of the intense pain produced.

INDIANS OF THE PERUVIAN AMAZON REGION: RIVER UCAYALI. To face p. 208.
INDIANS OF THE PERUVIAN AMAZON REGION: RIVER UCAYALI.
To face p. 208.

Sometimes two or three Indians and their families do not appear at this assembly on account of not having been able to collect the amount of rubber assigned to them. In this case the chief of the correrÍa orders four or five of his agents to collect ten or twelve Indians of a tribe hostile to the fugitives and to set out in pursuit of the poor wretches, their capitÁn being dragged along, tied up with chains, to act as guide to reveal their hiding-place, and being threatened with a painful and lingering death in case he does not find them. After some search the hut where they have taken refuge is found, and then takes place a horrible and repugnant scene. The hut constructed by the refugees is of thatch, of a conical form and without doors. The chief orders his men to surround the house, and two or three of them approach and set fire to it. The Indians, surprised and terrified, dash out, and the assassins discharge their carbines at the unfortunate wretches. The men killed, the bandits turn their attention to the rest, and the old, the sick, and the children, unable to escape, are either burned to death or are killed with machetes.

Another method of exploiting these unfortunate Indians takes the form of selling them as slaves in Iquitos, and this business in human flesh yields excellent returns to the company or its employees, for they are sold in that capital at from £20 to £40 each. Every steamer that goes to Iquitos, loaded with the rubber from the Putumayo, carries from five to fifteen little Indian boys and girls, who are torn, sobbing, from their mothers’ arms without the slightest compunction. These little innocents, as we have already said, are sold at wholesale and retail by this “civilising company” in Iquitos, the capital of the Department of Loreto, the second port of a country that calls itself Christian, republican, civilised, and, let it be well understood, with the knowledge, consent, and approval of the authorities there.

But to relate all the crimes and infamies committed in this tragic region by this company and its employees in its almost incredible persecution and exploitation of the Indians, would prove an interminable task, so many are the crimes committed in this devil’s paradise.

The following are the directors of the Peruvian Amazon Company[108]:—

Henry M. Read, 4 Lancaster Gate Terrace, Hyde Park, London, W.

Sir John Lister Kaye, Bart., 26, Manchester Square, London, W.

John Russel Gubbins, Esq., 22, Carlton Hill, London, N.W.

Baron de Sousa Deiro, Chairman of Goodwin, Ferreira Company, Ltd., Manchester.

M. Henri Bonduel, Banker, Rue d’Aumale, Paris.

SeÑor Julio CÉsar Arana, Iquitos, Peru.

SeÑor Abel Alarco, Salisbury House, London, E.C., managing director.