The Naturalist on the River Amazons [183]
baptised, a primitive Indian who had always lived in retirement, the ceremony of baptism having been gone through, as it generally is by the aborigines, simply from a wish to stand well with the whites.
Arrived at the house, we were welcomed by Pedro's wife: a thin, wrinkled, active old squaw, tattooed in precisely the same way as her husband. She also had sharp features, but her manner was more cordial and quicker than that of her husband: she talked much, and with great inflection of voice; while the tones of the old man were rather drawling and querulous. Her clothing was a long petticoat of thick cotton cloth, and a very short chemise, not reaching to her waist. I was rather surprised to find the grounds around the establishment in neater order than in any sitio, even of civilised people, I had yet seen on the Upper Amazons; the stock of utensils and household goods of all sorts was larger, and the evidences of regular industry and plenty more numerous than one usually perceives in the farms of civilised Indians and whites. The buildings were of the same construction as those of the humbler settlers in all other parts of the country. The family lived in a large, oblong, open shed built under the shade of trees. Two smaller buildings, detached from the shed and having mud-walls with low doorways, contained apparently the sleeping apartments of different members of the large household. A small mill for grinding sugar-cane, having two cylinders of hard notched wood, wooden troughs, and kettles for boiling the guarapa (cane juice) to make treacle, stood under a separate shed, and near it was a large enclosed mud-house for poultry. There was another hut and shed a short distance off, inhabited by a family dependent on Pedro, and a narrow pathway through the luxuriant woods led to more dwellings of the same kind. There was an abundance of fruit trees around the place, including the never-failing banana, with its long, broad, soft green leaf- blades, and groups of full-grown Pupunhas, or peach palms. There was also a large number of cotton and coffee trees. Among the utensils I noticed baskets of different shapes, made of flattened maranta stalks, and dyed various colours. The making of these is an original art of the Passes, but I believe it is also practised by other tribes, for I saw several in the houses of semi- civilised Indians on the Tapajos.
There were only three persons in the house besides the old couple, the rest of the people being absent; several came in, however, in the course of the day. One was a daughter of Pedro's, who had an oval tattooed spot over her mouth; the second was a young grandson; and the third the son-in-law from Ega, Cardozo's compadre. The old woman was occupied, when we entered, in distilling spirits from cara, an edible root similar to the potato, by means of a clay still, which had been manufactured by herself. The liquor had a reddish tint, but not a very agreeable flavour. A cup of it, warm from the still, however, was welcome after our long journey. Cardozo liked it, emptied his cup, and replenished it in a very short time. The old lady was very talkative, and almost fussy in her desire to please her visitors. We sat in tucum hammocks, suspended between the upright posts of the shed. The young woman with the blue mouth-- who, although married, was as shy as any young maiden of her race--soon became employed in scalding and plucking fowls for the dinner near the fire on the ground at the other end of the dwelling. The son-in- law, Pedro-uassu, and Cardozo now began a long conversation on the subject of their deceased wife, daughter, and comadre. [Co- mother; the term expressing the relationship of a mother to the godfather of her child.] It appeared she had died of consumption- -"tisica," as they called it, a word adopted by the Indians from the Portuguese. The widower repeated over and over again, in nearly the same words, his account of her illness, Pedro chiming in like a chorus, and Cardozo moralising and condoling. I thought the cauim (grog) had a good deal to do with the flow
Arrived at the house, we were welcomed by Pedro's wife: a thin, wrinkled, active old squaw, tattooed in precisely the same way as her husband. She also had sharp features, but her manner was more cordial and quicker than that of her husband: she talked much, and with great inflection of voice; while the tones of the old man were rather drawling and querulous. Her clothing was a long petticoat of thick cotton cloth, and a very short chemise, not reaching to her waist. I was rather surprised to find the grounds around the establishment in neater order than in any sitio, even of civilised people, I had yet seen on the Upper Amazons; the stock of utensils and household goods of all sorts was larger, and the evidences of regular industry and plenty more numerous than one usually perceives in the farms of civilised Indians and whites. The buildings were of the same construction as those of the humbler settlers in all other parts of the country. The family lived in a large, oblong, open shed built under the shade of trees. Two smaller buildings, detached from the shed and having mud-walls with low doorways, contained apparently the sleeping apartments of different members of the large household. A small mill for grinding sugar-cane, having two cylinders of hard notched wood, wooden troughs, and kettles for boiling the guarapa (cane juice) to make treacle, stood under a separate shed, and near it was a large enclosed mud-house for poultry. There was another hut and shed a short distance off, inhabited by a family dependent on Pedro, and a narrow pathway through the luxuriant woods led to more dwellings of the same kind. There was an abundance of fruit trees around the place, including the never-failing banana, with its long, broad, soft green leaf- blades, and groups of full-grown Pupunhas, or peach palms. There was also a large number of cotton and coffee trees. Among the utensils I noticed baskets of different shapes, made of flattened maranta stalks, and dyed various colours. The making of these is an original art of the Passes, but I believe it is also practised by other tribes, for I saw several in the houses of semi- civilised Indians on the Tapajos.
There were only three persons in the house besides the old couple, the rest of the people being absent; several came in, however, in the course of the day. One was a daughter of Pedro's, who had an oval tattooed spot over her mouth; the second was a young grandson; and the third the son-in-law from Ega, Cardozo's compadre. The old woman was occupied, when we entered, in distilling spirits from cara, an edible root similar to the potato, by means of a clay still, which had been manufactured by herself. The liquor had a reddish tint, but not a very agreeable flavour. A cup of it, warm from the still, however, was welcome after our long journey. Cardozo liked it, emptied his cup, and replenished it in a very short time. The old lady was very talkative, and almost fussy in her desire to please her visitors. We sat in tucum hammocks, suspended between the upright posts of the shed. The young woman with the blue mouth-- who, although married, was as shy as any young maiden of her race--soon became employed in scalding and plucking fowls for the dinner near the fire on the ground at the other end of the dwelling. The son-in- law, Pedro-uassu, and Cardozo now began a long conversation on the subject of their deceased wife, daughter, and comadre. [Co- mother; the term expressing the relationship of a mother to the godfather of her child.] It appeared she had died of consumption- -"tisica," as they called it, a word adopted by the Indians from the Portuguese. The widower repeated over and over again, in nearly the same words, his account of her illness, Pedro chiming in like a chorus, and Cardozo moralising and condoling. I thought the cauim (grog) had a good deal to do with the flow