Though the seal can live under water like a fish, and probably could pass a whole winter under the ice without much inconvenience, it likes now and then to take a little fresh air, and have a quiet nap upon the upper surface in the open air. With this design it breaks a hole through the ice, while the latter is yet thin, and this hole it keeps carefully open during the whole winter, clearing out each new crust as it forms. No matter to what thickness the ice may attain, this hole always forms a breathing-place for the seal, and a passage by which he may reach the upper surface, and indulge himself in – his favourite siesta in the open air. Knowing this habit, the Esquimaux takes advantage of it to make the seal his captive. When the animal is discovered on the ice, the hunter approaches with the greatest stealth and caution. This is absolutely necessary: for if the enemy is perceived, or makes the slightest noise, the wary seal flounders rapidly into his hole, and is lost beyond redemption. If badly frightened, he will not appear for a long time, denying himself his open air exercise until the patience of his persecutor is quite worn out, and the coast is again clear.

In making his approaches, the hunter uses all his art, not only taking advantage of every inequality – such as snow-drifts and ice-hillocks – to conceal himself; but he also practises an ingenious deception by dressing himself in the skin of a seal of like species, giving his body the figure of the animal, and counterfeiting its motions, by floundering clumsily over the ice, and oscillating his head from side to side, just as seals are seen to do.

This deception often proves successful, when the hunter under any other shape would in vain endeavour to get within striking distance of his prey. When seals are scarce, and the supply greatly needed, the Esquimaux often lies patiently for hours together on the edge of a seal-hole waiting for the animal to come up. In order to give it time to get well out upon the ice, the hunter conceals himself behind a heap of snow, which he has collected and piled up for the purpose. A float-stick, ingeniously placed in the water of the breathing-hole, serves as a signal to tell when the seal is mounting through his trap-like passage, the motion of the stick betraying its ascent. The hunter then gets himself into the right attitude to strike, and summons all his energies for the encounter.

Even during the long, dark night of winter this mode of capturing the seal is practised. The hunter, having discovered a breathing-hole – which its dark colour enables him to find – proceeds in the following manner: he scrapes away the snow from around it, and lifting up some water pours it on the ice, so as to make a circle of a darker hue around the orifice. He then makes a sort of cake of pure white snow, and with this covers the hole as with a lid. In the centre of this lid he punches a small opening with the shaft-end of his spear, and then sits down and patiently awaits the issue.

The seal ascends unsuspiciously as before. The dark water, bubbling up through the small central orifice, betrays its approach, which can be perceived even in the darkest night. The hunter does not wait for its climbing out upon the ice. Perhaps if he did so, the suspicious creature might detect the device, and dive down again. But it is not allowed time for reflection. Before it can turn its unwieldly body, the heavy spear of the hunter – struck through the yielding snow – descends upon its skull, and kills it on the instant.

The great “walrus” or “morse” (Trichecus rosmarus) is another important product of the Polar Seas, and is hunted by the Esquimaux with great assiduity. This splendid amphibious animal is taken by contrivances very similar to those used for the seal; but the capture of a walrus is an event of importance, second only to the striking of a whale. Its great carcass not only supplies food to a whole village, but an oil superior to that of the whale, besides various other useful articles. Its skin, bones, and intestines are employed by the Esquimaux for many domestic purposes, – and, in addition, there are the huge molar tusks, that furnish one of the most valuable ivories of commerce, from which are manufactured those beautiful sets of teeth, of dazzling whiteness, that, gleaming between vermilion lips, you may often see at a ball or an evening party!

Chapter Five.
Mundrucus, or Beheaders

In our general sketch of the Amazonian Indians it was stated that there were some few tribes who differed in certain customs from all the rest, and who might even be regarded as odd among the odd. One of these tribes is the Mundrucu, which, from its numbers and warlike strength, almost deserves to be styled a nation. It is, at all events, a powerful confederacy, of different tribes, linked together in one common nationality, and including in their league other Indians which the Mundrucus themselves first conquered, and afterwards associated with themselves on terms of equality; in other words, “annexed” them. The same sort of annexation or alliance is common among the tribes of North America; as in the case of the powerful Comanche nation, who extend their protecting alliance over the Wacoes, Washites, and Cayguäas or Kioways.

The Mahüe is the principal tribe that is patronised in this fashion by the Mundrucus, and the two together number at least 20,000 souls.

Before the days of the Portuguese slave-hunting, the Mundrucus occupied the south bank of the Amazon, from the mouth of the Tapajos to that of the Madeira. This infamous traffic had the effect of clearing the banks of the great river of its native inhabitants, – except such of them as chose to submit to slavery, or become neophytes, by adopting the monkish faith. Neither of these courses appeared pleasing in the eyes of the Mundrucus, and they adopted the only alternative that was likely to insure their independence, – by withdrawing from the dangerous proximity of the sanguinary slave-trade.

This retreat of the Mundrucus, however, was by no means an ignominious flight. The withdrawal was voluntary on their part, and not compulsory, as was the case with weaker tribes. From the earliest times they had presented a firm front to the Portuguese encroachments, and the latter were even forced into a sort of nefarious alliance with them. The leaving the Amazon on the part of the Mundrucus was rather the result of a negotiation, by which they conceded their territory – between the mouths of the Tapajos and Madeira – to the Brazilian government; and to this hour they are not exactly unfriendly to Brazilian whites, though to the mulattoes and negroes, who constitute a large proportion of the Brazilian population, the Mundrucu knows no other feeling than that of a deadly hostility. The origin of their hatred of the Brazilian blacks is to be found in a revolt which occurred in the provinces of the Lower Amazon (at Para) in 1835. It was a caste revolution against whites, but more especially against European Portuguese. In this affair the Mundrucus were employed against the darker-skinned rebels – the Gabanos, as they were called – and did great service in putting down the rebellion. Hence they retain a lingering spark of friendship for their ci-devant white allies; or perhaps it would be more correct to say they do not actually hate them, but carry on a little commerce with their traders. For all that, they occasionally cut the throats of a few of the latter, – especially those who do not come to deal directly with them, but who pass through their country in going from the Amazon to the diamond mines of Brazil. These last are called Monçaos, and their business is to carry supplies from the towns on the Amazon (Santarem and Para) to the miners of gold and washers of diamonds in the district of Matto Grosso, of which Cuiaba is the capital. Their route is by water and “portage” up the Tapajos river, and through the territory of the dreaded Mundrucus, – requiring a journey of six months, as perilous and toilsome as it is tedious.

The present residence of the Mundrucus is between the Tapajos and Madeira, as formerly, but far up on both rivers. On the Tapajos, above what are known as the “Caxoeiras,” or Cataracts, their villages are found. There they dwell, free from all molestation on the part of the whites; their borders extending widely around them, and limited only by contact with those of other warlike tribes like themselves, who are their deadly enemies. Among these last are the Muras, who dwell at the mouths of the Madeira and Rio Negro.

The Mundrucus build the malocca, elsewhere described; only in their case it is not used as a dwelling, but rather as a grand arsenal, a council-chamber, a ballroom, and, if need be, a fortress. When fearing an attack, all sleep in it “under arms.” It is a structure of large size and great strength, usually rendered more unassailable by being “chinked” and plastered with clay. It is in this building that are deposited those horrid trophies which have given to the Mundrucus their terrible title of decapitadores, or “beheaders.” The title and its origin shall be presently explained.

Around the great malocca the huts are placed, forming a village, and in these the people ordinarily dwell.

The Mundrucus are not without ample means of subsistence. Like most other Amazonian tribes, they cultivate a little manioc, plantains, and even maize; and they know how to prepare the farinha meal, and, unfortunately, also the detestable chicha, the universal beverage of the South-American aborigines. They have their vessels of calabash – both of the vegetable and arborescent kinds – and a full set of implements and utensils for the field and kitchen. Their war weapons are those common to other Amazonian tribes, and they sometimes also carry the spear. They have canoes of hollow trees; and, of course, fishing and hunting are the employments of the men, – the women, as almost everywhere else among Indians, doing the drudgery, – the tilling and reaping, the “hewing of wood and the drawing of water,” the making the household utensils and using them, – all such offices being beneath the dignity of the “lordly,” or rather lazy savage.

I have said that they carry on a commercial intercourse with the white traders. It is not of much magnitude, and their exports consist altogether of the native and spontaneous productions of the soil, sarsaparilla being one of the chief articles. They gather this (the women and children do) during six months of the year. The other six months no industry is followed, – as this period is spent in hostile excursions against the neighbouring tribes. Their imports consist of iron tools and pieces for weapons; but they more especially barter the product of their labour for ornamental gewgaws, – such as savages universally admire and desire. Their sarsaparilla is good, and much sought for in the medical market.

Every one is acquainted with the nature and character of this valuable medicinal root, the appearance of which must also be known to almost everybody, – since it is so very common for our druggists to display the bundles of it in their shop windows. Perhaps every one is not acquainted with the fact, that the sarsaparilla root is the product of a great many different species of plants most of them of the genus Simlax, but not a few belonging to plants of other genera, as those of Carex and Herreria the roots of which are also sold as sarsaparilla. The species of simlax are widely distributed throughout the whole torrid zone, in Asia, Africa, and America, and some kinds are found growing many degrees outside the tropics, – as is the case in Virginia and the valley of the Mississippi, and also on the other side of the Pacific on the great continent-island of Australia.

The best sarsaparilla, however, is that which is produced in tropical countries, and especially in moist situations, where the atmosphere is at once hot and humid. It requires these conditions to concentrate the virtue of its sap, and render it more active.

It would be idle to give a list of the different species of simlax that furnish the sarsaparilla root of the pharmacopeia. There is an almost endless number of them, and they are equally varied in respect to excellence of quality; some kinds are in reality almost worthless, and for this reason, in using it as a medicine, great care should be taken in the selection of the species. Like all other articles, either of food or medicine, the valuable kinds are the scarcest; the reason in this case being that the best sarsaparilla is found in situations not only difficult of access, but where the gathering of its root is attended with considerable danger, from the unhealthy nature of the climate and the hostility of the savages in whose territory it grows. As to the quantity that may be obtained, there is no limit, on the score of any scarcity of the plant itself, since it is found throughout all the countries of tropical America plenteously distributed both in species and individual plants. Such quantities of it grow along the banks of some South-American rivers, that the Indians have a belief that those streams known as black waters– such as the Rio Negro and others – derive their peculiar colour from the roots of this plant. This, however, is an erroneous supposition, as there are many of the white-water rivers that run through regions abundantly supplied with the sarsaparilla root. The black water, therefore, must arise from some other cause, as yet unknown.

As observed, the sarsaparilla of the Mundrucu country is of the very best quality. It is the Simlax papyracea of Soiret, and is known in commerce as the “Lisbon,” or “Brazilian.” It is a climbing plant, or under-shrub, the stem of which is flattened and angular, with rows of prickles standing along the prominent edges. Its leaves are of an oval acuminated shape, and marked with longitudinal nerves. It shoots without any support, to a height of fifteen or twenty feet, after which it embraces the surrounding branches of trees and spreads to a great distance in every direction. The main root sends out many long tendrils, all of like thickness, covered with a brownish bark, or sometimes of a dark-grey colour. These tendrils are fibrous, and about as thick as a quill. They present a constant tendency to become crooked, and they are also wrinkled longitudinally, with here and there some smaller lateral fibres branching off from the sides.

It is in the bark or epidermis of the rhizomes that the medicinal virtue lies; but the tendrils – both rhizome and bark – are collected together, and no attempt is made to separate them, until they have reached their commercial destination. Indeed, even these are sold together, the mode of preparing the root being left to the choice of the consumer, or the apothecary who procures it.

The Mundrucus collect it during the six months of the rainy season, partly because during the remaining six they are otherwise employed, and partly for the reason that, in the time of rain, the roots are more easily extracted from the damp soil. The process simply consists in digging them up or dragging them out of the earth – the latter mode especially where the tendrils lie near the surface, and they will pull up without breaking. If the main root be not dug out, it will send forth new tendrils, which in a short time would yield a new crop; but the improvident savages make no prudential calculations of this kind – present convenience forming their sole consideration; and on this account both the root and plant are generally destroyed by them during the operation of collecting.

As already stated, this labour devolves upon the women, who are also assisted in it by their children. They proceed into the depths of the forest – where the simlax grows in greatest abundance – and after collecting as much root as they can carry home with them, they return with their bundles to the malocca When fresh gathered the sarsaparilla is heavy enough – partly on account of the sap which it then contains, and partly from the quantity of the mud or earth that adheres to the corrugated surface of the roots.

It is extremely probable that in this fresh state the virtue of the sarsaparilla, as a blood-purifier, is much greater than after it has passed through the channels of commerce; and the writer of this sketch has some reason, derived from personal experience, to believe that such is the case. Certain it is, that the reputation of this invaluable drug is far less in countries where the plant does not grow, than in those where it is common and can be obtained in its fresh state. In all parts of Spanish America its virtues are unquestioned, and experience has led to a more extensive use of it there than elsewhere. It is probable, therefore, that the virtue exists in the juice rather than the cortical integument of the rhizome; and this of course would be materially altered and deteriorated, if not altogether destroyed, in the process of exsiccation, which must necessarily take place in the time required for transporting it to distant parts of the world. In the European pharmacopeia it is the epidermis of the root which is supposed to contain the sanitary principle; and this, which is of a mucilaginous nature and slightly bitter taste, is employed, both in decoctions and infusions, as a tonic and alterative. In America, however, it is generally taken for what is termed purifying the blood– for the same purpose as the rhizomes of the Lauras sassafras and other plants are used; but the sarsaparilla is generally considered the best, and it certainly is the best of all known medicines for this purpose. Why it has fallen in the estimation of the Old World practitioners, or why it never obtained so great a reputation as it has in America, may arise from two circumstances. First, that the root offered for sale is generally the product of the less valuable species; and second, that the sap, and not the rhizome, may be the part that contains the virtuous principle.

When the collected roots have been kept for awhile they become dry and light, and for the convenience of stowage and carriage – an important consideration to the trader in his eight-ton garratea– it is necessary to have the roots done up in packages of a uniform length and thickness. These packages are formed by laying the roots side by side, and doubling in the ends of the longer ones. A bundle of the proper size for stowage contains an arroba of twenty-five pounds, though the weight varies according to the condition of the root. Uniformity in size is the chief object aimed at, and the bundles are made of a round or cylindrical shape, about five inches in diameter, and something more than a yard in length. They are trimmed off small at the ends – so as to admit of stowage without leaving any empty space between two tiers of them – and each bundle is tightly corded round from one end to the other with a “sipo,” or creeping plant.

It has been stated that this “sipo” is a root of the sarsaparilla itself, with the bark scraped off; and, indeed, its own root would serve well enough – were it not that putting it to such a use would destroy its medicinal value, and thus cause a considerable waste of the costly material. The sarsaparilla is not to be had for nothing even upon the banks of the Tapajos. A bundle of the best quality does not leave the hands of the Mundrucu until about four dollars’ worth of exchange commodities have been put into them, which would bring the price of it to something over sixpence a pound. He is, therefore, a little particular about wasting a material that has cost him – or rather his wife and children – so much trouble in collecting. His cordage is obtained more cheaply, and consists of the long, flexible roots of a species of pothos, which roots – being what are termed aerial and not buried in the ground – require no labour or digging to get at them. It is only necessary to stretch up the hand, and pull them down from the tops of lofty trees, from which they hang like streamers, often to the length of a hundred feet. These are toughened by the bark being scraped off; and when that is done they are ready for use, and serve not only to tie up the bundles of sarsaparilla, but for many other purposes in the domestic economy of the Mundrucus.

In addition to the sarsaparilla, the Mundrucu furnishes the trader with several other items of commercial value – for his climate, although one of the most unhealthy in all the Amazon region, on account of its great heat and humidity, is for that very reason one of the most fertile. Nearly all those tropical vegetable products which are characteristics of Brazilian export commerce can here be produced of the most luxuriant kind; but it is only those that grow spontaneously at his very doors that tempt the Mundrucu to take the trouble of collecting them.

There is one article however, which he not only takes some trouble to collect, but also to manufacture into an item of commercial exchange – a very rare item indeed. This is the guarana, which is manufactured from the fruit of a tree almost peculiar to the Mundrucu territory – since nowhere is it found so abundantly as on the Tapajos. It is so prized in the Brazilian settlements as to command almost its weight in silver when transported thither. It is the constituent element of a drink, which has a stimulating effect on the system, somewhat more powerful than tea or coffee. It will prevent sleep; but its most valuable property is, that it is a good febrifuge, equal to the best quinine. Guarana is prepared from the seeds of an inga – one of the Mimosacae. It is a low, wide-spreading tree like most of the mimosa family. The legumes are gathered, and the seeds roasted in them. The latter are then taken out, and after being ground to powder, are mixed with water so as to make a tough paste, which is moulded into little bricks, and when dried is ready for use. The beverage is then prepared by scraping a table-spoonful of dust from the brick, and mixing it with about a pint of water; and the dry paste, keeping for any length of time, is ready whenever wanted.

The guarana bush grows elsewhere in the Amazon valley, and on some headwaters of the Orinoco, where certain tribes also know how to prepare the drink. But it is sparingly distributed, and is nowhere so common as on the upper Tapajos hence its high price in the markets of Brazil. The Mundrucu manufactures it, not only for “home use,” but for “exportation.”

He prepares another singular article of luxury, and this he makes exclusively for his own use, – not for the gratification of his lips or palate, but for his nose, – in other words, a snuff. Do not fancy, however, that it is snuff of the ordinary kind – the pulverised produce of innocent tobacco. No such thing; but a composition of such a powerful and stimulating character, that he who inhales it feels as if struck by an electric shock; his body trembles; his eyes start forward as if they would forsake their sockets; his limbs fail to support him; and he drops to the earth like one in a state of intoxication! For a short time he is literally mad; but the fit is soon over, – lasting usually only a few minutes, – and then a feeling of renewed strength, courage, and joyousness succeeds. Such are the consequences of taking snuff with a Mundrucu.

And now to describe the nature of the substance which produces these powerful effects.

Like the guarana this snuff is a preparation, having for its basis the seeds of a leguminous tree. This time, however, it is an acacia, not an inga. It is the acacia niopo; so called because “niopo” is the name given to the snuff itself by certain tribes (the Ottomacs and others), who, like the Mundrucus, are snuff-takers. It is also called curupa, and the apparatus for preparing and taking it – for there is an apparatus of an extensive kind – is termed parica, in the general language (lingoa geral) of the Amazonian regions.

We shall describe the preparation, the apparatus, and the ceremonial.

The pods of the Acacia niopo– a small tree, with very delicate pinnate leaves – are plucked when ripe. They are then cut into small pieces and flung into a vessel of water. In this they remain until macerated, and until the seeds have turned black. These are then picked out, pounded in a mortar, which is usually the pericarp of the sapuçaia, or “monkey-pot” tree (Lecythys ollaria). The pounding reduces them to a paste, which is taken up, clapped between the hands and formed into little cakes – but not until it has been mixed with some manioc flour, some lime from a burnt shell (a helix), and a little juice from the fresh leaves of the “abuta” – a menispermous plant of the genus Cocculus. The cakes are then dried or “barbecued” upon a primitive gridiron – the bars of which are saplings of hard wood – and when well-hardened the snuff is ready for the “box.” In a box it is actually carried – usually one made out of some rare and beautiful shell.

The ceremonial of taking the snuff is the most singular part of the performance. When a Mundrucu feels inclined for a “pinch” – though it is something more than a pinch that he inhales when he does feel inclined – he takes the cake out of the box, scrapes off about a spoonful of it into a shallow, saucer-shaped vessel of the calabash kind, and then spreads the powder all over the bottom of the vessel in a regular “stratification.” The spreading is not performed by the fingers, but with a tiny, pencil-like brush made out of the bristles of the great ant-eater (Myrmecophaga jubata).

He is in no hurry, but takes his time, – for as you may guess from its effects, the performance is not one so often repeated as that of ordinary snuff-taking. When the niopo dust is laid to his liking, another implement is brought into play, the construction of which it is also necessary to describe. It is a “machine” of six to eight inches in length, and is made of two quills from the wing of the gaviao real, or “harpy eagle” (Harpyia destructor). These quills are placed side by side for the greater part of their length, forming two parallel tubes, and they are thus neatly whipped together by a thread. At one end they are pressed apart so as to diverge to a width corresponding to the breadth between the Mundrucu’s nostrils, – where it is intended they shall be placed during the ceremony of snuff-taking.

And thus are they placed, – one end of each quill being slightly intruded within the line of the septum, while the other end rests upon the snuff, or wanders over the surface of the saucer, till all the powder placed there is drawn up and inhaled, producing the convulsive effects already detailed.

The shank-bone of a species of bird – thought to be a plover – is sometimes used instead of the quills. It is hollow, and has a forking-tube at the end. This kind is not common or easily obtained, for the niopo-taker who has one, esteems it as the most valuable item of his apparatus.

Snuffing the niopo is not exclusively confined to the Mundrucu. We have seen elsewhere that it is also a habit of the dirt-eating Ottomacs; and other tribes on the upper Amazon practise it. But the Mahües, already mentioned as the allies of the Mundrucus, are the most confirmed snuff-takers of all.

Another odd custom of the Mundrucus is their habit of “tatooing.” I speak of real tatooing, – that is, marking the skin with dots and lines that cannot be effaced, in contradistinction to mere painting, or staining, which can easily be washed off. The Mundrucus paint also, with the anotto, kuitoc, caruta, and other pigments, but in this they only follow the practice of hundreds of other tribes. The true tatoo is a far different affair, and scarcely known among the aborigines of America, though common enough in the islands of the South Sea. A few other Indian tribes practise it to a limited extent, – as is elsewhere stated, – but among the Mundrucus it is an “institution;” and painful though the process be, it has to be endured by every one in the nation, “every mother’s son,” and daughter as well, that are cursed with a Mundrucu for their father.

It is upon the young people the infliction is performed, – when they are about eight or ten years of age.

The tatoo has been so often described, that I should not repeat it here; but there are a few “points” peculiar to Mundrucu tatooing, and a few others, not elsewhere understood.

The performance is usually the work of certain old crones, who, from long practice, have acquired great skill in the art.

The chief instrument used is a comb of thorns, – not a single thorn, as is generally stated, – but a tier or row of them set comb-fashion. These thorns are the spines of the “murumuru,” or “pupunha” palm (Gullielmia speciosa). Humboldt states that this palm is smooth and spineless, but in this the great, good man was in error. Its trunk is so covered with thorns or spines, that when the Indians require to climb it – for the purpose of procuring the valuable fruits, which they eat variously prepared – they have to erect a staging, or rude sort of ladder, to be able to get at them.

The comb, then, is pressed down upon the skin of the “tatooee,” till all the points have penetrated the flesh, and a row of holes is laid open, from which the blood flows profusely. As soon as this can be wiped off, ashes of a burnt gum or pitch are rubbed into the wounds, which, when healed, appear like so many dots of a deep bluish or black colour. In this way the young Mundrucus, both boys and girls, get those regular rows of dotted lines, which traverse their forehead and cheeks, their arms and limbs, breasts, and bodies in such eccentric fashion. It has often been asked how these lines of dots were carried over the skin in such straight and symmetrical rows, forming regular parallel lines, or other geometrical patterns. The “comb” will explain the mystery.