Attacked by Beri-beri—A Journey up the Madeira River to the Relief of Filippe the Negro and Recovery of Valuable Baggage left with him—Filippe paid off—A Journey up the River SolimeÕs—Iquitos I arrived in Manaos in the evening of November 15th. I was very ill indeed, my right foot so swollen that I could hardly stand on it, and so painful that I could not put on a shoe or even a slipper, so that I had to hop about with only a sock over it. The doctor on board had told me that I was suffering from beri-beri, and although I tried not to believe him I was gradually forced to the conclusion that he was right. In fact, atrophy set in by degrees—one of the characteristics of beri-beri being that after a time you feel no pain at all. You can dig a pin into the affected part, or pluck off all the hairs without feeling the slightest pain. I was in a bad way, although I never laid up for an entire day. From the moment I arrived I "got busy," to use an American expression, in order to go to the rescue of Filippe the negro and another man I had left in charge of my valuable baggage near the mouth of the Canuma River, a tributary of the Madeira. It was necessary for me to borrow or charter a steam launch for one or two days, so that I could save men and baggage. I applied to the Governor of On the Andes: an Elevated Trail overlooking a Foaming Torrent. On the Andes: an Elevated Trail overlooking a Foaming Torrent. (See arch cut in the rock.) I told him that the work I had done was principally for the good of Brazil; that all I asked him was to help me to save the lives of two Brazilian citizens, and the maps, photographs, etc., which would be useful chiefly to Brazilians, whatever their political views were. I would gladly pay out of my own pocket, within reasonable bounds, all expenses in connection with the trip. If I had applied to him it was only because I had found it impossible at Manaos to charter a steam launch. I spread out before the Governor a map of South America, showing the journey I had taken from Rio de Janeiro to Manaos marked in red. The Governor, who had evidently never seen a map before, turned it upside down, mistook the entire map of South America for a map of his own Province, and seemed to be under the impression that the Amazon had its birth close to Rio de Janeiro. A bitter enemy of all foreigners, especially Englishmen, the Governor was detested by everybody, and was at open war with the Commandante of the Federal troops in the town. All the money which should have been spent in embellishing or improving the town, was mis-spent in keeping a large army of police—over 2,000 men, I believe—for his personal protection. As nearly all the launches in the place belonged to the Government, I had then to apply to the Commandante of the flotilla of the Government boats. It will be easily understood that my anxiety was great to go and rescue my men; so that on leaving the palace I immediately proceeded to the private house of this gentleman—a great friend of the Governor, I learned afterwards. On sending in my card at five o'clock in the afternoon I was kept waiting a little time, then there appeared a yellow-faced individual in his pyjamas, muttering words which I should not like to repeat. "What do you want?" he said to me. "Do you not know that I sleep from twelve to six every afternoon? What do you mean by disturbing me? I am sure you would not disturb officers of your own Navy in this way!" I very politely answered that the officers of my Navy were well known for being wide awake at all times, and not for sleeping the whole day as well as the entire night. When I explained to him, and presented the order from the Minister of Marine requesting any officer of the Brazilian Navy to give every possible I was beginning to feel anxious, as in my weak state it would have been a serious matter for me to undertake the river journey in a small rowing-boat, which journey would have occupied several weeks, when I could have done the whole thing in two or three days at the most in a steam launch. Even a rowing-boat was not obtainable unless you purchased it outright, and if you obtained the boat you could not obtain the men to row it. It is extraordinary how many things in the world depend on absolute chance. When I returned, sadly disappointed, to the hotel, I met a Swiss gentleman, Dr. Alberto Maso, who was in the employ of the Brazilian Government as delegate of the Minister of Agriculture for the Territory of the Acre. I had met him in Rio de Janeiro a year before. I told him what had happened that day with the Governor and the Commandante of the Flotilla. Dr. Maso immediately took the matter in hand. That same evening there was a meeting of the AssociaÇÃo Commercial do Amazonas, a most useful society in Manaos composed of the cleverest and soundest business men of that place. I was presented to the President, Mr. J. G. Araujo, and to Dr. Bertino Miranda, the honorary secretary—the latter a man of letters of great distinction, well known not only in his own country but in Latin countries all over Europe as well. The next morning, in fact, I was taken to call on the Commandante of the Federal troops, who willingly and most courteously placed at my disposal his steam launch. A delay of several days took place, as unfortunately the steam launch had lost her propeller and it was necessary to make a new one. Also the engine had to be repaired, and a crew had to be engaged—a task which gave all those concerned a considerable amount of trouble. I had, of course, to pay for the maintenance of the crew during the journey, and it cost me nearly a hundred pounds to fit her out with all the plates, knives, cooking utensils, and other paraphernalia necessary for her crew of sixteen men. In any other country three men would have been more than sufficient to run a launch of that size. I also had to employ at my own expense a pilot—no steamboat was allowed to go without one—whom I had to pay at the rate of £7 15s. sterling a day. A cook had to be employed for the crew, as none of the sailors could be induced to condescend to be the chef. Two applicants were eventually found. One who was willing to do the cooking at a salary of £3 10s. a day, his chief ability, said he, consisting in boiling rice and fish. Another fellow eventually undertook the job at a salary of £1 10s. a day, he being willing to do the cooking at such a small salary as he said Principally owing to the Booth Line Steamship Company and the allied companies, Manaos has become a good-sized place. The Harbour Works and the works made by the Manaos Improvements, Ltd., have been a great boon to that place, and have made it almost as civilized as a third-class European city. But obstacles have been placed in the way of honest foreign companies carrying on their work successfully, the unscrupulous behaviour of the Governor and the attitude of the mob having proved serious drawbacks to the development of the place. La Mercedes. The Avenue of Eucalypti near the Town of Tarma (Andes). The Avenue of Eucalypti near the Town of Tarma (Andes). Large sums of money have been wasted in building a strawberry-coloured theatre of immense size and of appalling architectural lines, on the top of which has been erected a tiled dome of gigantic proportions over an immense water-tank in order to protect the theatre against fire. The water-tank was calculated to let down a great cascade of water, a regular Niagara, on the flames—as well as on the spectators, I presume. After it had been built it was discovered that if water were let into the tank, its weight would Except for one or two short avenues, which reminded one of the suburbs of new North American cities, there was nothing worth seeing in Manaos. The shops were almost entirely those of jewellers, gunsmiths, sweet-sellers, and chemists. It was in this place that the poor seringueiros, on their return from rubber collecting, were in a few hours robbed of all the money they had made during several months' hard work. There was only one redeeming feature in Manaos: the British and American business men in the place were most charming and hospitable in every possible way. It was on December 3rd, 1911, that everything was ready. The hour of departure had been fixed for ten o'clock in the evening. I went on board at the appointed time, but the captain of the launch and the crew refused to put out of the anchorage, as they said they would not go unless some extra men were employed. One of the pipes of the engine had been wilfully damaged, so that delay was caused, and we could not possibly start until it had been repaired. The captain of the launch had worried me for several days. He was in a constant state of intoxication. On December 4th, at 11 p.m., I was actually able to make my departure from Manaos on the launch Amazonas. I took in tow a rowing-boat which had been lent me by the representative of the Minister of Agriculture in Manaos. By 8.30 in the morning of December 5th we en The journey up the Madeira River had no great interest. By seven o'clock in the evening we arrived at the mouth of the Canuma River—or rather at a channel connecting the Madeira River with the river Canuma, which river actually has its proper mouth about half-way between Itaquatiara and Santarem, at a place called Parintins. By way of the connecting channel the two rivers were only a short distance apart, but that channel was not always navigable. The steam launch, which drew little water, would have difficulty in going through, even at that time, when the water was fairly high. On the Andes. A Street of Tarma. We therefore thought we would stay for the night at the mouth of the channel, and start on our journey I was just in the middle of my dinner when the pilot sent down a message for me to go up to the house at once, as my presence was required immediately. I struggled up the steep incline, not knowing what was up. Much to my amazement, on reaching the house, I saw before me my man Filippe the negro, who rushed at me and embraced me tenderly, and the other man I had left with him in charge of the baggage. The two men had been picked up by a boat two days up the river Canuma, where I had left them with my baggage, and they had come down expecting to meet me in Manaos. They had got stranded at that place, and although they had hailed one or two steamers which had gone down the river, no one had paid any attention to them, and there they had remained. "Have you saved the photographs and the baggage, Filippe?" I immediately asked, when I had made certain that both men were in good condition. "Yes," said Filippe. "I have everything with me. I have taken the greatest care of everything." That was for me a happy moment, after all the vicissitudes we had had of late. The most important part of my baggage was saved. I had taken all my men back alive—if perhaps not very much alive—after so fateful an expedition. I felt happy beyond words. The Market Place, Tarma. Next morning, all as happy as possible, we steamed down full speed on our way back to Manaos. We came in for dirty weather all the time, which obliged us to halt for several hours and put into Itaquatiara for shelter. A few hours later we were once more in the capital of the Amazonas, in the city of jewellers' shops and filthy food. On landing I found Maxim guns and artillery on one side of the principal square, with police troops in charge of them ready to fire; while on the other side were the Federal troops, also with their artillery ready for battle. It was with some concern that I found myself obliged to pass between those warlike bodies in order to enter the hotel. I was not so anxious for myself as I was for my photographic negatives and note-books, after I had taken all that trouble to save them. However, the Governor at the last moment became scared, and went personally to call on the Commandante of the Federal troops in order to assure him of his friendship and affection, so that after all no battle took place that day. Only a short time previously the flotilla had bombarded the town. The people of Manaos had got so accustomed to those little excitements that they thought nothing of them. There were occasionally a few people killed, but that was all. Filippe had tears in his eyes when he received his pay and present. He embraced me and thanked me a million times for having made him a rich man. "After all," said he, "we have suffered a great deal, but now I shall be happy for ever. I shall marry the girl who is waiting for me at home." "If ever I come out on another journey, Filippe, will you go with me again?" I asked him. Filippe pondered for a moment. "Yes," he said with determination. "I have proved to you that I am afraid of nothing. You only have to order me, and I will go with you. Even if we are to suffer again as we have suffered on this journey!" Filippe was a good fellow. The other man when paid off received his money and his reward silently. He went out into the street, and returned four hours later without one single penny. He had purchased an expensive suit of clothes, a number of silk neckties, a gold chain, watch, etc. The next morning there was a steamer sailing for Rio de Janeiro, so I packed off the jubilant Filippe, Thus I saw the last of that plucky man—the only one who had remained of the six who had originally started with me. On December 16th I left Manaos for good on my way to Peru, escorted to the good Booth Line steamer Atahualpa by the Commandante of the Federal troops, the representatives of the AssociaÇÃo Commercial, Dr. Maso, and some of my English and American friends. It was with the greatest delight that I saw Manaos vanish away from sight as we descended the Rio Negro. Rounding the point at its mouth, steaming towards the west, we entered the SolemÕes River. This river is navigable by fairly good-sized boats as far as Iquitos, in the province of Loreto in Peru. The Highest Point where Author crossed the Andes before reaching the Railway at Oroya. The Highest Point where Author crossed the Andes before reaching the Railway at Oroya. I was badly in need of rest, and expected to get it on those few days of navigation up the river, having dreamt of how I could lie on deck and do nothing, as that part was well known and there was no work for me to do. But, indeed, on that journey none of my dreams were realized, for, worse luck, the steamer, which had only accommodation for ten, carried not less than seventy or eighty passengers, fifty of them forming part of a Spanish theatrical company which was on its way to Iquitos. The deck of the ship had been turned into a kind of theatre, where rehearsals went on day and night. When the rehearsals were not going on, the men and women, following the usual habits of theatrical people, sang However, thanks to the great civility of the managers of the Booth Line at Manaos, and to the extreme thoughtfulness of the captain of the Atahualpa, I was made quite comfortable in the chart-room of the ship, which was as far away as possible from the noise. We were most of the time in mid-stream. The river was so wide that we could not see anything on either side. We steamed up day after day, occasionally passing islands of some beauty rising above the muddy waters of the SolimÕes. Navigation of that river was difficult, as the navigable channels were constantly changing, islands disappearing and new islands forming all the time. Elich Island, in the Timbuctuba group, was fast disappearing, while another island was forming just below it. We passed the mouth of the Putumayo River at sunset one day, a most wonderful effect of clouds being produced over a brilliant cadmium yellow and vermilion sky, shining with great brightness above the dark green trees upon a high reddish cliff. In a drenching morning at five o'clock we reached EsperanÇa, the Brazilian frontier post, which consisted of half a dozen one-storied houses with red-tiled roofs, situated on a grassy expanse. Grassy hills of no great height rose at the mouth of the Javari River, a southern tributary of the SolimÕes River, forming there the boundary between Brazil and Peru. Dark green foliage perched high up on asparagus-like stems of trees formed a background to that wretchedly miserable place. A few soldiers dressed in khaki stood, with their legs wide apart, watching the arrival of the steamer, while their officers in speckless white clothes hastily descended the long flight of steps and came on board, bringing bouquets of flowers to the captain. There was a pretty garden near the blockhouse. Three mountain guns pointed viciously at the river from the most exposed position in Tabatinga at the top of the staircase. According to the account of a non-commissioned officer, there was a force there of 240 soldiers "escondido no matto"—that is to say, kept hidden in the forest! After we had passed the frontier on the north side of the river, a tiny tributary brook, almost hidden by the vegetation and only identified by a white-barked tree on the left bank and huts on either side, the scenery made a change for the better. Leticia was the name of the Peruvian frontier post, which consisted of two or three brick sheds with corrugated iron roofs. We arrived at Iquitos on December 23rd, at 8.30 a.m., having employed seven days and twenty hours on our run from Manaos. |