Across Unknown South America

CHAPTER IV

The Terminus of the Railway—An Unpleasant Incident—The Purchase of Animals—On the March with the Caravan

A great crowd had assembled at the station. The train had hardly stopped when my car was invaded by boisterous people, who embraced me and patted me on the back in the most approved Brazilian style. Before I could inquire who they were, one fellow, more boisterous than the others, informed me that he had purchased a great many mules for me, that he had engaged men for me, and also procured riding and pack-saddles, harness, implements, clothing and bedding for the men he had engaged, and I do not know what else. Everything was paid for. I could return the sum paid out the next day. Another man said he had already prepared a sumptuous apartment for me in the best hotel in the town.

When asked who had instructed them to make such arrangements, they were vague, and on being pressed for an answer gave names of people of whose existence I was perfectly ignorant. Before I could realize what all this meant I discovered—much to my annoyance—that all my baggage had been taken out of the train and had been conveyed to the hotel. I was therefore compelled to proceed there myself, in the company of my new "friends," who shouted everything they had to say at the top of their voices, so that I should not fail to understand. It was already night, and the streets of the town were in such a terrible condition that the overladen carriage—there were people on all the seats, on the box and standing on the steps—nearly turned over on going round corners. The wheels sank up to their axles in mud.

We pulled up at the hotel door, where another crowd of loafers had assembled. I was literally dragged into the hotel—for I had become somewhat reluctant, first on seeing the appearance of the place, then on being met by waves of a nauseating odour which suggested the non-existence of sanitary arrangements and worse.

"Come in, come in!... wait here!" shouted they in a most excited manner, when I expressed a wish to inspect the palatial quarters which they had been good enough to reserve for me.

"Wait a moment!" shouted the landlord, a slumbering, disjointed, murderous-looking creature, whose violent gestures and waving of hands in front of my face were somewhat irritating. He dashed into a room on the ground floor—and we outside could hear an altercation between the loud-voiced proprietor and the plaintive moans of a half-dying man.

A moment later the half-dying man, skeleton-like, with livid eyes, a complexion the colour of a lemon gone bad, and quivering bare legs, was literally dragged out of the bed and roughly thrown out of the door.

"Here is your room!" cried the landlord triumphantly to me, as he flung out of that apartment some cheap canvas bags, clothes—which from birth had been innocent of washing and pressing—and the socks, shoes, and day shirt of the guest who had been ejected.

The odour alone, as I peeped into the room, was enough to stifle any one with the sense of scent even less delicate than my own. As for the vacant bed—any pariah dog of any other country would have been offended to be offered such filthy accommodation.

In Brazil—as elsewhere—it does not do to lose one's calm. I also wished to avoid an unpleasant quarrel, as I have a belief that quarrels are bad for one's health. I spoke gently and kindly to the hotel-keeper, and said that, although I had ordered nothing, still, as he had kindly reserved that charming apartment for me, I should be very pleased to pay for it, which I would do at once. If he would excuse me, I preferred to go back to sleep in my private car. Upon hearing these words a nasty tragi-comic scene occurred, which, had I not remained cool and collected, might have ended badly.

"Do you know, sir," shouted the landlord, with livid features and eyes shooting out of their orbits, so enraged was he—"do you know that I am the Chief of Police here, and that everybody is afraid of me? I have only to give orders and every one will kill any one I like." Here he discontinued shaking his somewhat grimy hands under my nose and, drawing himself up, stood upon the doorstep of the hotel in order to harangue the great crowd which had collected.

"We are all millionaires in Brazil," shouted the landlord, with an effort which seriously impaired the safety of his fully-congested jugular vein. "We are all atheists and anarchists in Brazil. Down with the infamous oppression and slavery of Europe! Down with kings and emperors! Down with Europe, the land of oppression and cruelty!" And again: "We in Brazil are the richest people on earth. We are all millionaires in Brazil. We do not need foreign charity!"

"Down with foreigners!" answered the chorus of assembled natives.

The railway inspector who had been sent by the Company to accompany me became scared at the turn matters were taking, and told me, against the instructions he had received, that I could not now return to the car. Upon hearing this, my new friends, believing they had me in their power, renewed their vocal attack.

I remained some time endeavouring to collect my baggage, pretending to pay no attention whatever to the absurd oratory. To this day I cannot yet grasp what the oppression of Europe had to do with my wanting to pay for something I had never had. I then repeated my offer, which was again refused. With the protection of his strong rear-guard, the Chief of Police advanced bravely towards me, holding in a suggestive manner with his right hand the pommel of his revolver in the back pocket of his trousers. In a tragic manner he exclaimed:

"We will settle this matter, to-morrow."

"We will settle it at once," I placidly replied.

"No, to-morrow," he repeated, with a vicious look.

"Very good: at what time and where?"

"At ten o'clock," he eventually grunted, after I had repeated the above question four times. I also politely invited all the others present to come forward if they had any claims to square. I was quite ready to settle anybody at any time and anywhere. Perhaps they might get more than they wished.

I departed with my baggage laden on two carriages and a cart, and eventually found accommodation at an equally filthy hotel near the station—only the latter place was kept by a humble and honest, decrepit old woman. I do not know that I have ever spent a more miserable evening anywhere. I do not mind roughing it in the roughest way possible, but I have always detested pretentious efforts at civilization of an inferior kind. Thus I sat having a meal—eggs, beans, rice—all soaked in toucinho (pork fat) which I detest and loathe. I watched black railway workmen and porters stuffing themselves with food in a most unappetizing way, and making disgusting noises of all kinds.

Fortunately I remembered that a friend of mine—a railway contractor, Mr. Louis Schnoor—must be at that time in Araguary, looking after the construction of the new railway line which will eventually join Araguary to the capital of Goyaz. I went in search of him, stumbling along the terrible roads with deep holes and pools of water and mud. As luck would have it, I was able to purchase from him, that very same evening, a number of excellent mules, which he very generously had offered to place at my disposal without payment. Also he promised to supply me with two reliable men—a job not at all easy in that particular part of Brazil.

Author departing from Morro da Meza,

Showing costume worn during the expedition.

Alcides. Filippe the Negro.

Mr. Louis Schnoor—a Brazilian of German extraction—was a godsend to me. Thanks to him, I returned that night quite happy to the miserable hotel. Happy, because in less than half an hour I had arranged to leave that pestilential hole the following day. Mr. Schnoor had kindly undertaken that he would send me, at eleven o'clock the next morning, in a special train to the end of the line in construction, some 45 kil. farther north. In a town of gentle folks like Araguary the luxury of sleeping with one's window open could not be indulged in—especially as nearly all the houses were one storey high. So the night was rendered particularly oppressive and long, tormented as you were in your bed by its innumerable inhabitants, which stung you all over. I had taken the precaution to spread a waterproof sheet under my own blankets on the bed, but that, too, proved ineffective. Mosquitoes were numerous.

No sanitary arrangements to speak of existed in Araguary, so that everything was flung out of the windows into the streets, which made walking about the town most objectionable. The odour everywhere was revolting, as can well be imagined. The city was nevertheless considered by the natives as all that is most perfect in the way of civilization, for not only did it possess a few anÆmic electric lights—so far apart as to be a nuisance instead of a help in seeing one's way about—but also, behold! it actually boasted of a spasmodic cinematograph. There were some 500 houses, all counted, at Araguary, all more or less miserable-looking, and a population of some 2,500 souls—"lost souls," I should think.

Slowly, very slowly came the next morning, March 31st. At ten o'clock sharp I called on the Chief of Police at his hotel, and found that he had departed early in the morning and was not to be expected back for some hours! A charming way of keeping an appointment which he was so anxious to bring about.

In the company of Mr. Louis Schnoor I also called on the persons who said they had made arrangements for my expedition, as I did not wish to have any misunderstanding in the matter. Far from having purchased mules, horses, saddles and harness, they could produce nothing on demand, and finally asked me to remain in Araguary for one month—fancy one month in Araguary!—so that they could produce their purchases.

As I was driving in Mr. Schnoor's carriage we met, a long way from his home and hotel, the Chief of Police and hotel proprietor. I immediately dismounted and informed that gentleman of my visit at the appointed time. I also demanded that whatever he wished me to settle must be settled at once.

"Nothing at all," said he, shaking me warmly by the hand. "You owe me nothing. It was all a mistake. It was all a mistake. Please do not think of it any more. You owe me nothing, nothing, nothing. If I can be of use to you, pray order me! I am your humble servant." And his delightful politeness was such that I could hardly realize it was the same vicious man of the previous evening. In my surprise I had to turn to Mr. Schnoor to inquire whether I had got hold of the wrong man.

Yes, indeed. Some of those fellows of Central Brazil were a remarkable mixture of villainy and charm—in chemical language one might describe them as sublimates of rascality and delightful manners.

However, good manners or not, I had taken such a dislike to the place that I was glad when eleven o'clock came and Mr. Schnoor conveyed me to the special train—an engine and one car. I inspected the new station of the Goyaz railway, which was already finished—a useful, well-constructed building, quite sufficient for its needs. In the company of Mr. Schnoor, his chief engineer, Mr. Schirmer and Mr. Bertoux, we left Araguary—oh, what a relief!—for the end of the line, 45 kil. away. I had decided to go and wait there in the open country the few hours which would be necessary to collect the men who were to accompany me, and the mules.

The work on that portion of the Goyaz line which was already laid was well and quickly done. Mr. Schnoor assured me that in four or five months more they expected to run trains to CatalÃo. An iron bridge will eventually be built across the Paranahyba River, within a short distance of which the line had already been laid when I was there. Some delay had been experienced in making a deep cut on the south side of Paranahyba Hills, where the strata had been found much harder than expected.

I camped for a day and a half at Morro da Meza, a lovely spot at an elevation of 2,850 ft., from whence an immense panorama could be enjoyed. What a relief this heavenly place was after Araguary, and how everlastingly grateful I shall be to my friend Mr. Schnoor for having deposited me there!

I took the opportunity of the solitude to rearrange my baggage. On April 1st my good friend Schnoor reappeared to see that all arrangements were satisfactory for my departure.

Morro da Meza will ever remain present in my mind, for it was my jumping-off place into the wilds. It was from there that the actual marching on horseback and on foot began, and it was there I last saw a railway train for the best part of a year.

On April 1st, at 4 p.m., I left Morro da Meza, went through the new railway cut in preparation, crossed the Paranahyba River (at an elevation of 1,970 ft. above the sea level), and made my camp on the opposite side of the stream at AnhÃnguera (elev. 2,100 ft. above sea level) in the railway engineers' camp, 800 yards away from the water. The engineers, an Italian, Mr. Schnoor's father-in-law, and a Russian—a Mr. Martens—showed me every possible civility. A curious incident occurred while we were having dinner. The day was a holiday, and the workmen on the line were resting. We were sipping our coffee, when a man entered our hut and said a companion of his had been shot. We rushed to see him, and we found that the poor wretch had had his skin perforated in eight different places by the same bullet. What was more remarkable was that each perforation was close to dangerous places in the man's anatomy, and yet not a single wound was mortal. This is how it happened. The man was lying down in his suspended hammock, resting his left hand on his left knee. A friend came along to show him a new automatic pistol he had purchased. In the usual silly fashion he had pointed it at his friend. The pistol went off, and the bullet passed just under the skin at the knee, at the side of the knee-cap, and having come out again, went right through the soft part of the hand between the thumb and index finger. It then perforated the arm at the biceps, and further entering the chest, shaved the heart and came out at the shoulder-blade, continuing its flight beyond to somewhere where no one could find it again. That spoke highly for the penetrating power of bullets from automatic pistols, and also for the little harm those little bullets may inflict. The man, after we had carefully dressed his wounds, looked, perhaps, a little miserable, but he was able to depart on horseback carrying with his good arm a bottle of medicine.

The Goyaz railway was making rapid progress. The rails were soon to be laid on the north side of the river as far as CatalÃo. The bed of the railway was fast being made ready.

It was not until April 3rd that I was able actually to make a start with my caravan. My good friend, Mr. Louis Schnoor, had promised me two men—Alcides Ferreiro dos Santos and Filippe da Costa de Britto; the first a German Brazilian of a violent revolutionary temper but of extraordinary bravery; the other a pure negro of a boisterous, simple nature, also of indisputable bravery in moments of great danger. These two men—both natives of Araguary—proved themselves to be on that fateful expedition the two best men I possessed. Thus, if nothing else can be said in praise of Araguary, it must be said in justice that it can produce some men of great courage and faithfulness—a boast which cannot well be applied to many places in Brazil. On April 3rd, at 9 a.m., after a touching farewell, I left the engineers' camp mounted on a magnificent mule that Mr. Schnoor had insisted on lending me as far as Goyaz, with the pack animals which I had purchased. I did not follow the principal road, which went by a somewhat circuitous route from Araguary to the capital of Goyaz via the towns of CatalÃo and Bomfin, but preferred to travel across country by a short cut which took you there in an almost direct line in a north-westerly direction. On getting over the Serrinha (elev. 2,250 ft.), a hill range, one obtained a gorgeous view of the valley of the Paranahyba River—a river which, already of good width there, became eventually the great Parana. It is on the right bank of the river, near its mouth, some thousands of miles from where we were, that Buenos Aires is situated.

Going through a beautiful forest in undulating country, we reached the summit of a flat-topped tableland, 2,500 ft. above the sea level, with a gentle slope towards the north, where the edge of its summit was some 50 ft. lower than on the south. The vegetation was somewhat stunted, but interesting, for many were the trees I noticed which could be put to some use or other. The BarbatimÃo (Stryphnodendron bar. M.) was plentiful, and could be used advantageously in tanning leather; the Pao ferro (CÆsalpinia ferria M.) and the Paneira, were present in quantities.

Through the forest we descended in three hours to the Rio Virissimo, which, swollen by the sub-tributaries Barrocas, Indaica, Pirahitinga and Perobas on the east and Vae Vem on the west, throws itself into the Paranatinga between Morro Alto and Porto do Barreiro. That stream had been bridged over. We had descended to 2,000 ft. During the entire distance—we had travelled some 23 kil. from the Paranahyba River—we had passed only two miserable sheds and we had not met a single soul, barring a glimpse at a shaggy female who happened to be opening the door of her hut as we were passing, and with a yell of terror banged it again, and bolted it as she perceived us riding by.

A peculiar kind of wild fig-tree was to be seen, ball-like in appearance, with branches inclined down instead of skyward like most trees. On our right as we proceeded down to the farms of S. Jeronymo and Sta. Barbara (elev. 2,400 ft.) stood a mountain with beautiful grazing land upon its slopes. Healthy fat cattle, in most wonderful condition—testifying to the excellence of the grazing in that region—were bred by the farmers. To the north, north-east and north-west behind this place were to be seen delightful green round-topped hills, also with excellent grazing. A few cows and imported zebus were to be seen, it is true, but the country could support a million times that number and more.

It was that evening that I noticed for the first time in Brazil a peculiar and most wonderful effect of light at sunset—not unlike an aurora borealis. White, well-defined radiations shot skyward from the west, where the sun had set, and stood out luminously against the dark blue sky, like the spokes of a gigantic wheel. This effect, as we shall see, was repeated frequently at sunset, and sometimes was even more beautiful than on the occasion of that first acquaintance with it.

We marched 39½ kil. that day—with my nine pack-mules, Formosa (which in Portuguese means "beautiful"), the splendid white mule I rode, and three other mules ridden by my men. It was a real pleasure to see the appetite of the animals when we made camp. How joyfully they ground with their powerful jaws the Indian corn which each had received in a nose-bag soon after we had halted, removed the loads and saddles from their backs, and properly groomed them!

When we started the next morning we went through most beautiful grazing land for some 20 kil., and through marvellous grassy slopes on the mountains beyond. Streamlets of clear abundant water were passed. From 2,050 ft., the elevation of the stream, we rose to 2,650 ft., then descended gradually to the village of Corumbahyba, with its brand-new red-tiled roofs and whitewashed houses—very tiny, and, with one exception, all one-storied. The windows and doors were gaily decorated with bright blue paint. There was a church, of course, on one side of the large square smothered in high grass, and by the church two wooden pillars supported a beam from which hung a bronze bell. Then in the centre of the square stood, most prominent of all in the village, a huge wooden cross in a dilapidated condition. What little life seemed to exist in the place was to be found in the local store, where an inquisitive crowd had collected when I arrived.

Goyaz Railway in Construction.

The cut leading to the Paranahyba River.

Author's Caravan crossing a Stream.

My mules were let loose to graze in the square, joining a number of cows that were there already. As I sat in the shop, closely examined by the inhabitants, I returned the compliment by analysing them. What a strange, dried-up, worn-out appearance young and old presented! What narrow, chicken-like chests, what long, unstable legs and short arms. And, dear me! what shaggy, rebellious hair, which stood out bristle-like in all directions upon their scalps! Yet those people came from ancestors who must have been, centuries ago, magnificent types of humanity to be able to accomplish what they did in the way of colonization. With the habit we possess of looking for finer, healthier specimens of humanity in the country than in the cities, this condition of affairs came somewhat as a surprise to me, since that rule generally applied to most nations I have visited except Brazil. Those people, partly by constant intermarriage among themselves, partly by the mixture of black blood with the white, and greatly owing to the effects of the most terrible complaint of the blood in existence—universal in Brazil—partly, too, by the dull, uninteresting, wasted lives they led and the poverty of their nourishment, were reduced to a state of semi-idiocy. The men hardly seemed to have the strength and energy to walk or even stand up—although I must confess, to my regret, that they had not yet lost the power of talking.

Their features were unattractive. Eyes wide apart and widely expanded, so that the entire circle of the iris was exposed, although the eyeball itself was not À fleur de tÊte, but rather sunk into excessively spacious orbital cavities in the skull. The part of the eyeball which is usually white was yellow with them, softened somewhat by luxuriant eyelashes of abnormal length. In fact, the only thing that seemed plentiful and vigorous with them was the hair, which grew abundantly and luxuriantly everywhere, just as bad grass and weeds do on uncultivated or abandoned lands. There was a lot of hair everywhere—on the scalp, on the eyebrows, on the men's unshaven cheeks, on the chest, the arms, hands, and the legs. It is, I believe, a well-known fact that hair is generally more luxuriant, the weaker and more anÆmic the subject is—up to a certain point.

Deep grooves and hollow cheeks—the latter due to absence of teeth—marked the faces of even young men. Then one of the most noticeable peculiarities was the extraordinary development, prominence and angularity of the apple of the throat. The ears—which to my mind show the real character and condition of health of a person more than any other visible part of his or her anatomy—were large and prominent, occasionally well-formed, but lacking colour and the delightful, well-chiselled, vigorous curves of healthy, normal, intelligent people. The hands and feet were generally small and well-shaped, in wonderful condition—though not necessarily clean—owing to the inborn reluctance which all the people of Brazil have towards manual labour.

It has always been my experience that, generally speaking, malformed people possess distorted brains—which does not mean at all that the brain of a malformed person may not perhaps develop in a marvellous manner in one particular direction. What I maintain is that, with few possible exceptions, the brains of malformed people are seldom perfectly balanced. In those particular subjects it did not take a deep student of human nature to set down the entire crowd of them as visionaries, most fantastically inclined—in which direction, having no restraint whatever, they ran absolutely amuck.

Yet there was something very charming about the people of the interior of Brazil, after they had overcome their first suspicion of strangers and their own shyness. They seemed imbued with the idea that everybody went there specially to do them harm. They lived in a constant state of fear and trembling, even of their own relations and friends. They all went about armed to the teeth, and would not dream of going a yard outside their homes without a revolver, a rifle and a dagger. Even to walk about the village the men were all armed.

When not in a rage or sulky—which seemed to be their almost constant condition—they were the most good-hearted people I have ever met; gentle, affectionate—in fact, so sentimental that it became a positive nuisance. If one learnt how to deal with them—which was not always easy—they were really delightful people in their enviable simplicity.

A reflection of the people's mentality was to be discovered at a glance in examining the articles that were for sale in the only shop in the village. There, remember, you were in a country which, from an agricultural point of view, could be made of immense value. Now, did you notice any implements in the shop which suggested agricultural pursuits of any kind whatever? No; what you found were patent leather dress shoes, elaborately embroidered top-boots, fancy neckties, gaudy gilt and silver spurs of immense size, bottles of powerful perfumes, fancy soaps, mirrors, combs, and highly-coloured calicoes, beer, fire-water, and other such articles of luxury.

Characteristic Types of Brazilians of the Interior.

(Notice degenerate faces and development of goitre.)

A Typical Village of the Province of Goyaz.

The Corumbahyba village stood at an elevation of 2,250 ft. in a hollow surrounded by low hills. The water was delicious at that place.

As I was getting through my lunch—which I enjoyed thoroughly after my morning march of 23 kil.—I saw crossing the square two murderers laden with iron chains, led along with a rope by two mounted men. The natives present laughed as they saw the poor devils struggle along. Not a sign of pity or care was shown by anybody present.

After leaving Corumbahyba we witnessed a panorama of magnificent mountain scenery from a height of 2,550 ft., to which we had ascended. Then came a steep and rugged descent through a forest down to a streamlet (2,250 ft.); then up another ascent to 2,350 ft. and down again to 2,050 ft. at the great CorumbÁ River, there 300 yards wide. We crossed this beautiful stream—animals and all—on three canoes joined together, upon which a platform had been built.

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