Though so recognised an authority as Bates is responsible for the statement that the fecundity of the Amazonian Indians is of a low degree,[224] because as many as four children in one family are rarely found, it is open to doubt whether he and his successors have not in this instance confounded effect and cause. It is certainly true that the normal number for a family is but two or three, yet that this is not a question of fertility the high percentage of pregnant women would seem to disprove.[225] The numbers are remarkable in view of the fact that husbands abstain from any intercourse with their wives, not only during pregnancy but also throughout the period of lactation—far more prolonged with them than with Europeans. The result is that two and a half years between each child is the minimum difference of age, and in the majority of cases it is even greater.

The main reason why there are these limited families, is, in my opinion, not a diminishing birth-rate, but an enormously high percentage of infant mortality. The test of the survival of the fittest is applied to the young Indian at the very moment of his birth, for the infant is immediately submerged in the nearest stream, a custom that easily leads to infanticide in the case of an unwanted child, or one with any apparent deformity.

Another accepted opinion with which I am not in agreement is that these girls become mothers at a very early age, and that when only fourteen years old themselves may have already had two children, as is said of tribes on the Tikie. My experience has been that these peoples do not arrive at the age of physical maturity even so early as white races, probably owing to lack of nourishing food and perhaps in some degree to the retarding and depressing effect of the forest environment.[226]

These Indians share the belief of many peoples of the lower cultures that the food eaten by the parents—to some degree of both parents—will have a definite influence upon the birth, appearance, or character of the child.[227] Before the birth of an infant the mother has to submit to certain definite food restrictions, which vary with different tribes in some slight degree, but are all rooted in the same idea. Among some tribes all animal food is forbidden to any woman throughout the entire period of pregnancy, and this precludes her from share in the tribal or family hot-pot. Among the tribes of the Tikie and elsewhere tapir flesh is prohibited, not so much because it is considered unhealthy, which on account of its richness it certainly would be,[228] but because if a mother partook of any it would be looked upon as tantamount to allotting the visible characteristics of the animal to the unborn child. From a like cause these Indians imagine that the child would have the teeth of a rodent did the mother eat capybara during the months of her pregnancy; it would be spotted like a paca if she ate that beast; or, if she ate bush-deer flesh, which is tabu to all women after marriage among the Kuretu-language group, the venison would make the infant deformed. Peccary is tabu among many tribes, and with the Witoto during the last month of pregnancy the mother’s food is limited to one kind of small fish, with cassava and fruits.

The belief that ill will befall the unborn infant if the mother do not regularly adhere to dietary laws is strictly held by both men and women. To give birth to a deformed or disfigured child is the most disgraceful calamity that can happen to any woman, and therefore all possible precautions must be taken, and any animals reputed to possess undesirable characteristics are naturally forbidden, lest the unborn child should in any way resemble the appearance or take the characteristics of the animal concerned. The prohibitions are, therefore, definitely tabus, inasmuch as they are believed to entail the penalty of deformed or malignant progeny upon the transgressor, a belief very binding on people who hold that to some extent the consumer absorbs the characteristics of aught that is eaten.

Nor do all these tabus concern the mother only, for the father also among some of the tribes must abstain from meat a short time before, as well as after, the child’s birth.[229] This recognition of a definite connection between the father and the child, a more intimate connection than civilised peoples recognise, is to be noted, and should be borne in mind when considering the curious custom of the couvade, which must be recorded anon.

Whatever the weather may be no accouchement ever takes place within the house.[230] When birth is imminent the expectant mother will go out into the forest with some trusted older woman, or alone, for the Indian wife is quite willing to take full responsibility without any further aid. Among some of the tribes north of the Japura the mother is accompanied to the forest, and assisted while there by other matrons, who have their faces painted red. But the Boro and the Witoto women go unattended or with but one female attendant. Neither the husband nor any other man is permitted to be present whatever the circumstances.

The shelter of the forest gained, the woman makes a small clearing, and spreads a bed of leaves on which she sits down.[231] Her trouble is not of long duration. When the child is born she ties the umbilical cord with fibre-string, and then bites it through,[232] or cuts it with a wooden knife. This done she at once proceeds to the nearest water and bathes, after which she returns to the house. She wears no covering or bandage.

The infant is taken with her to the river and is washed and ducked. If it survive this drastic treatment its body is covered with what the Witoto call hittagei, that is, rubber latex, over which a brown or red clay is smeared. Hardenburg relates that he was told this was done by the Witoto “in order to keep it warm.”[233] I have often seen the process carried out, but the warmth theory never occurred to me, and none of the Indians suggested it as a possible reason or gave any explanation of the custom.

As I have said, with all these tribes infant mortality is very great. The custom of submerging the new-born child undoubtedly causes an immense increase in the number of deaths. This led me to inquire why they persisted in such a fatal course, but one and all said that if the child was not strong enough to survive it had better die. This is the Indian attitude, and explains much of the seemingly ignorant or harsh treatment to which young children are subjected.

Indians do not care to have large families. To support a number of children would often be a matter of grave difficulty.[234] But foeticide is not practised, and abortion is probably unknown except to the medicine-men, who would only procure it for their own purposes or protection. Should destruction for any reason be desired, the birth would be allowed to take place, and the child afterwards killed “accidentally” during the subsequent lustration. Bastard children are undoubtedly destroyed, and the second of twins is left in the bush by the mother before immersion; or, among some of the tribes of the Kuretu, if the babies are of both sexes it is the girl that is killed, whichever may have been born first. Otherwise they kill the second, because it is obvious that the second is the transgressor, it had no right to come, and it is a disgrace to bear twins, as these people hold the opinion that to be delivered of more than one child at a birth is to lower themselves to the level of the beasts. The act of killing is performed by the mother secretly, at the parturition if possible, and the body would be concealed by her in the bush.[235]

The act is not due merely to cruel or callous disregard of infant life. If to be sickly and deformed is an undesirable state, the Indian sees no reason why any unfortunate being should be condemned to live in such a condition; and, moreover, the sufferer must handicap others as well as itself in the strenuous race of life. Therefore deformed children are never seen. A child that is discovered to be in any degree abnormal or sickly at birth is allowed to die on immersion, by the very simple method of holding it under water till life is extinct. If, however, the deformity is not discovered till after the child has been brought to the tribal house, the medicine-man is called in to deal with the case. If the mischief be beyond his power to remedy, he declares that it was caused by some evil spirit and may work ill to the tribe,[236] so as a precautionary measure the wretched little creature is taken out and left exposed in the forest, or some tribes go as far as to bury it alive.[237] This is done with no intention to cause unnecessary suffering, but simply that as it had to die it might as well die by suffocation as by any other means.

If there were an epidemic of deformed or sickly cases among the newly born it would most probably lead to a tribal blood-feud, as it would be most assuredly put down to the evil intention and craft of some enemy. Who the latter might be it is the province of the medicine-man to determine.

Except in the above instances intentional infanticide is not common. Unintentionally it would seem to be very frequent. It might further be resorted to in time of famine, if lactation should be difficult or if the mother were to die.[238] I know of one case where a child on the death of the mother was thrown to the dogs—wild dogs are the voracious beasts of the forest. On another occasion the infant was buried with its dead mother, though this would not have been done had any one been willing to adopt it. Both these cases occurred among the Witoto.

Koch-GrÜnberg found that among the Tuyuka the houses have a small chamber at the end where a man and his wife stay after the birth of a child. There is no such thing among these tribes.

The day after her delivery the mother presents the infant to its father, and then, as though nothing had happened, goes back to her work in the plantation, and spends the day toiling in the fields as usual. She will only return to feed the child at night. But the father remains in the house with the baby, for he in his turn must submit to definite tabus, the restrictions and prohibitions of that curious custom known as the couvade, “a live growth of savage psychology,” as E. B. Tylor calls it.[239] The baby lies in a hammock and the father lounges in his, and there, with some tribes, he will remain for from three to six weeks.[240] The Witoto are more casual in this observance than the Boro. Colour seems to be given to the theory that couvade marks a stage of emergence from matrilineal to patrilineal organisation, by the fact that among those tribes where relationship is counted on the father’s side couvade is apparently practised far less strictly, and only in a limited form, as compared with the descriptions of couvade given by other writers among tribes such as those Sir Everard im Thurn studied in British Guiana, where definitely matrilocal customs are still extant.[241] But, however limited the restrictions, in all cases the father abstains from hunting until the child’s navel is healed. He must not touch his hunting weapons even,[242] nor may he eat the flesh of any animal that has been hunted, which, as regards animal food, is practically the same tabu as exists for the mother before the child’s birth. Fish and cassava form his diet, but coca is not tabu.

Yet, despite his enforced deprivations, the Indian father enjoys himself. He has, in fact, a very easy time of it, which may go to confirm him in his quite genuine belief that his actions are of substantial benefit to the child.[243] Friends will assemble in numbers to express their joy at the happy event; they will even come from great distances for this purpose. There is much talk, and all exchange coca and lick tobacco. In the midst of the congratulations the medicine-man will arrive to deliver his opinion, given after due consideration, of the points of the new-born. Congratulations will be interspersed with numerous ventral grunts, as signs of assent and approval, with the decisions enunciated, on the part of the proud parent or his visitors. The orations will be interrupted by the ceremonial licking of tobacco between the medicine-man, the father, and his visitors.

After eight days the child will be named by the medicine-man and the assembled family. The name given among all these tribes is generally that of the father’s father, if the child be a boy. With the exception of further ceremonial tobacco-taking there is no ritual.

Boys are called as a rule by the names of animals or birds;[244] girls are given the names of plants and flowers. For instance, among the Boro a common masculine name is Pimwe, which is the name of a white water-bird; or Eifoike among the Witoto, eifoike being their name for the turkey-buzzard. My own name among the Witoto was Itoma, which means the sun, that sound being the nearest to Thomas that they knew. The Boro called me Pimwe, the white ibis, on account of my white bath-gown.

No Indian ever uses his name, nor is he called by it when spoken to by his companions.[245] One will speak to another as tanyabe,[246] that is to say, “brother,” or Iero,[246] Moma,[247] that is, “father”; in the case of a woman it would be Gwaro,[246] Rinyo,[247] which is “mother,” or Tanyali,[246] “sister.” They will never address each other in more direct fashion, and if one of the speakers is not a member of the household, and therefore no relationship exists between them, they will make use of some expression equivalent to our “comrade,” “man,” “girl,” or other generality. The Boro, when they wish to call the attention of a man, cry Mupe! of a woman, Muije! As I obviously stood in no relationship to any of my companions, the usual congenital term of address could not be used in my case, and if I chose to run the risk of giving my enemies power over me through knowledge of my name that was my own affair.

This objection to divulging the name is too widespread to need comment.[248] The Indian of the Upper Amazons is on this point not so far removed from our own old-fashioned country-folk.[249] But at the same time, though they would not divulge their own names they were invariably most curious to get hold of mine, and made great efforts to pronounce it. Whiffena was the usual outcome of such attempts. I also found that the Indians had no objection to making use of any name I might give to them, presumably because, not being their true name, no magical dangers were possibly incurred through its use, such as would be probable did I call one of them by his or her own proper name.[250]

Among some tribes the name of a deceased person will be given to some surviving relative.[251] This is looked upon as an honour to be bestowed on the greatest friend of the deceased,[252] and thereafter this new name is considered his private name, and the one originally his thenceforth ceases to concern him in any way.

With the naming of a child the formalities connected with its birth are at an end, and once the navel is healed the father’s share in the ceremonials is completed. With his return to ordinary life the infant reverts to the charge of the mother. Day and night the child remains with her. It is carried out into the fields when she sets forth on her day’s toil among the manioc and pines, and is brought back to the fireside at night when she returns to cook the evening meal. The Witoto women, in common with other tribes in the vicinity, carry their infants in a sling of beaten bark-cloth that is passed round the forehead and hung as a bag behind. At a less tender age they will seat them on the hip, and small girls may often be seen with a smaller brother or sister astraddle round their waists.

The Indian mother will suckle her young for three years, or even longer, and at least during the earlier nursing will have no connection with her husband. This long period of lactation is certainly due in a measure to the scarcity of food. There is no artificial supply or substitute obtainable in place of the natural provision. If the mother cannot feed it the child must starve. The child is fed wherever the mother’s duties may take her. On many occasions I have seen a child that is running about and playing, suddenly toddle up to the squatting mother intent on her cassava making, and still standing suck for a few moments and then toddle away. Not less remarkable is it to see the women milk themselves into a palm-leaf, a very usual custom after the children’s teeth develop. The leaf is rested on the palm of the hand, which gives it the necessary cuplike form, and from this the child is fed.

The prohibitions with regard to certain foods that affected the parents before and immediately subsequent to childbirth, continue in force afterwards so far as the children are concerned. Such tabus are more strictly enforced on the girls than on the boys; and their diet is neither plentiful nor seemingly of the most nourishing description. Cassava cakes and fruits are permitted them, and some of the smaller bony kinds of fish among fish-eating tribes, but none of the better kinds of fish, and no game, until they attain maturity.

There is no childhood as others know it for the little Indian. By this I mean no innocent childhood. These forest children from birth see all the life of their elders, hear all things openly discussed, and the very games and jests of the babies are tainted with what we should consider obscenity.

Children are primarily under the authority and protection of the father, but any authority on the parent’s part is very slight, and ceases to exist altogether where the boys are concerned once the age of puberty is reached. Of course even a married son shows respect to a father if they are living in the same house. Girls, as they are in the care of their mothers or some responsible elderly matron of the tribe until their marriage, must be more under authority; and virginity, as with us, is strictly protected so far as is possible.[253] But in the main it may be said that parental control is only a semblance, and filial piety, so characteristic of the Inca and the Chinese, is practically unknown: indeed, though the smaller children seem very fond of their parents, after a few years it appears to be almost fashionable to disregard parental authority entirely.

A child is not considered responsible for any damage it may contrive to do. If it commit any mischief that entails loss to others compensation is claimed from the parents, but no chastisement would in consequence be meted out to the little offender. Children are never beaten, whatever their offences, and rarely punished. They are looked upon as the potential warriors and mothers of warriors, and treated very differently to the old and worn, who may be left to forage for themselves. The parents, in fact, show great affection for their children, despite the stoical way in which infant lives are sacrificed. Often have I seen the father, who would on no account carry food or any part of his woman’s burden, however heavy, give his small son a lift over the bad ground. Although he will never play games with his children as western folk do, the Indian father will do his best to please the youngsters and make them happy. He will make little javelins, a small blow-pipe, a toy sword for the boys. They have their miniature weapons from the tenderest years, and imitate their fathers in all that they do, just like the girls, who go with their mothers to the plantations, and take a share in women’s work as their form of play, and shoulder a share of women’s burdens when hardly more than babies themselves. Their games, in short, are all mimetic. They have no games with string or balls.

It follows naturally enough that there is little or no elaborate ritual of initiation among most of these tribes, so far as I was able to ascertain, for no part of a man’s life is kept secret from a child. The elders simply take the young of each sex apart and teach them. Nor is there much ceremony on the attainment of the young warrior to tribal rank. He has been instructed by the elder men as to the ways of hunting; he is allowed to join a tobacco palaver; he is presented by the chief with a pouch of coca; he is permitted to lick tobacco, and he affirms as he does so that he will bear himself bravely on all occasions. There is no further formality, and thus he enters the ranks of the fighting men. Among the Bara after a Jurupari dance all the youths of pubertal age are whipped, which is considered to be initiation. The whipping instrument, made from the hide of the tapir, is sacred. Women are excluded from this ceremony, and they believe when the boys shout that it is the expulsion of demons. The performance is regarded as strictly private, and if a man or boy tells of his experience he is outcast.

For the girls there are some secret lodges in the bush. But how far this is an Indian custom, how far a recent development for purposes of defence, I was not able to ascertain. The matter is not one on which the Indian is ever communicative. Certainly among all the tribes in the vicinity of the much-feared and ever-raiding Andoke, the girls who are bordering on puberty are segregated in the depths of the forest under the protection of old and wise women of the tribe. This may not be general, and I do not think it is a universal custom. It is done by these tribes principally, I take it, for the protection of the flower of their womanhood, to prevent the mothers of warriors-to-be from falling into the hands of the restless thieving Andoke. At the same time the girls are under instruction of their keepers, they are taught in these lodges presumably the duties that will shortly fall to their lot. They learn to dance, to sing, and to paint themselves for festivals. It is no unusual sight to see a party of small girls painting each other, if by chance one haps across a secret lodge. This is, I take it, in the way of practice, the Indian girl’s version of her civilised sisters’ “dressing-up” games.

The girls’ isolation is not absolute. There is always communication between the hidden lodge and the tribal house, but such communication is made with due care, no path is ever cut or worn to the hiding-place, and if one develops by usage it is speedily blocked the moment it is noticeable. When no inimical raiders are about, and all is considered safe, the girls repair to the tribal house, but no girl is allowed to return to the tribe for good until such time as a marriage has been arranged for her.

One writer on the Jivaro tribes mentions festivities held when a four-year old child is first initiated into the art of smoking.[254] This could never occur among any of the tribes on the Japura or the Issa, where it has been seen tobacco is only licked. Boring the ears, nose, and lips of the adolescent is done when they go to the lodges at the age of puberty. It is very carefully carried out, and is probably done with their ordinary boring instrument, the tooth of a capybara. Among the Menimehe the tribal marks are tattooed on face and breast at this time.

I have not met with the custom mentioned by Sir Clement Markham as existing among the Mariama, of a man cutting lines near the mouth of his twelve-year-old son, nor has the scourging of the Omagua, and their trial of the girls by hanging them in a net to smoke them, come under my observation, any more than the cruel scourging of girl children mentioned by Clough,[255] though boys on the Apaporis are thrashed, and I have heard of the custom north of the Japura. The Jurupari dance as described by so many authorities, and the girls’ whippings, as noted by Wallace,[256] have been told me second-hand by these tribes. I have never seen either, and south of the Japura I believe such customs to be unknown.

PLATE XL.

OKAINA GIRLS