In the Wilds of South America — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
In the Wilds of South America
John Stuart Mill · en
The Commemoração, the headwater branch of the Gy-Paraná, on which we
were, is a deep river from three hundred to a thousand feet wide, with
reddish water and a swift current. It was not necessary for the men to
ply the oars except when rounding some sharp bend where steerage-way
was required, and this was fortunate, as it rained so much of the time
that the men were glad to seek the protection offered by the covered
portion of the boat. In the intervals between the deluging showers the
sun blazed down mercilessly; trees on both sides of the narrow lane of
water sparkled as if bedecked with jewels. In places the forest rose
from the river’s edge in sheer walls of variegated green; tree-trunks,
brush, and palms united into one solid battlement by mosses, climbing
lilies, and ensnaring creepers. Again, clumps of graceful ita-palms
leaned far out over the water and then rose in a series of stately,
feather-crowned columns. At frequent intervals we had glimpses of the
animal life that lurked within the impenetrable barrier of the forest
fastness. Monkeys were especially plentiful, and within an hour after
starting we had seen four distinct species, representing as many
families; there were files of black howlers, the males jet-black,
while the females are of a straw-color, moving leisurely through the
branches; troops of dainty squirrel-monkeys, with deep-chestnut backs,
grayish heads, and white faces, scampered over the tops of the lower
trees. Black spider-monkeys sat in the highest crotches and gazed down
at us in stupid perplexity, and once we startled a family of woolly
little night-monkeys of a grayish color, which had selected a thick
clump of overhanging vegetation as their diurnal sleeping-place. Large
flocks of blue-and-yellow macaws, flying two by two, crossed the river
high overhead, doubtless on their way to some choice feeding-ground.
Kingfishers sped away in front of the hurrying _batelão_, and from the
depths of the woods came the muffled sound of an ivory-bill’s tapping
on a hollow trunk.
That night we reached the junction of the rivers Commemoração and
_Pimentá Bueno_, the latter a stream not less than a thousand yards
wide, with a great volume of water. The river formed by the confluence
of these two streams is known as the Gy-Paraná. We had covered a
distance of eighty kilometres. In ascending, it had taken the _batelão_
nineteen days to cover the same stretch of river that we had just
descended in one day.