THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
PRESENTED BY
PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND
MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID
UP THE MAZARUNI
FOR DIAMONDS
A?
V*
UP THE MAZARUNI
FOR DIAMONDS
BY
WILLIAM J. LAVARRE
VETERAN SCOUT
BOSTON
MARSHALL JONES COMPANY
1919
PP^eSERVATlON
COPY ADDED
ORfGfN'ALTOBE
RETAINED
OCT 2
3 1992
CO PYRIGHT • I 9 19
BY MARSHALL JONES COMPANY
THE-PLIMPTON-PEESS
NOaWOOD'MASS'U-S«A
rv.
To
My Mother and Father
FOREWORD
LaVarre is adventuring in the right spirit.
His diamond hunting is instructive as well as
interesting. He has brought back from the
field information which will help others who
intend to traverse similar trails.
Though younger than most explorers he has
carefully endeavored to prepare himself for
the field by study and travel. He beheves in
the theory of hard work and preparedness, the
essentials of the successful explorer.
In these days when there is so much en-
deavor which seems to be for the acclaim of
the crowds and the deification of self, it is
refreshing to meet one who seems to be in it
for the love of the work and the good which
he may open up for others in the field of
exploration.
William J. LaVarre was born in Richmond,
Va., August 4, 1898. His love for the out-
doors was demonstrated early for he camped
in the open at the age of ten and as a boy
scout a few years later won a contest for
Cvii]
FOREWORD
leadership of the Honor Patrol of the New
York City organization of the Boy Scouts of
America. He also won sixteen merit badges
in the same scout order. He was one of
twenty-four scouts chosen from the East to
build a trail in Maine for the Forestry Depart-
ment of the United States in 19 14.
He has specialized in Geology and Mineral-
ogy and shown considerable skill in the use of
the camera. He is now in the field as scien-
tific assistant and photographer of the Rice
Amazon Expedition. His diamond hunting
trip was a success.
We look forward to his return from the
Amazon with an interesting experience and a
successful exploration.
Anthony Fiala
August ii, 1919.
[viii]
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTE R I
"Are You Game to Try It? " i
CHAPTER II
"In THE Land o' Mazaruni " 7
CHAPTER III
A Fire Boat and a Native Wedding 14
chapter iv
Jungle Days Begin 18
chapter v
Getting Acquainted with the Natives 22
chapter vi
Life on the River 29
chapter vii
Mutiny Among the Crew 34
chapter viii
The Glorious Fourth 39
[ix]
CONTENTS
ch apte r ix
Baboon for Dinner 43
chapter x
In the Indian Country 48
chapter xi
"Uncivilized," but Courteous, Quiet and
Clean 56
CH APT E R XII
A Visit to a Native Home 62
chapter xiii
The Snake that Disappeared 68
chapter xiv
Difficulties of Jungle Travel 72
chapter xv
Hospitality of the Jungle Folk 82
chapterxvi v
Cassava Cakes and Blow-pepes 93
chapter xvii
On the March Again _ < loi
chapter xviii
Arrival at the Diamond Fields 107
[x]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER XIX
How THE Natives Hunt and Fish 113
chapter xx
Picking up Jungle Lore 121
chapter xxi
The First Diamond ! 128
chapter xxii
How THE Precious Stones are Found 133
chapter xxiii
Good-bye to the Jungle 137
[xi]
ILLUSTRATIONS
Sketch map Frontispiece
"Jimmy" facing page 4
We Worked Steadily up the Dangerous River ... 20
A Jungle "Hotel" 20
Once in a While a Boat Shot Past Us 46
At Times a Portage Must be Made 46
The First Jungle Indians We Saw 52
"Bringing Home the Bacon" 60
They Seemed Glad to Pose for Us 84
Jungle Huntsmen 84
At Fourteen an Indian Girl Must Be Able to Cook
Cassava 94
A Primitive Sugar Cane Press 94
Two Quick Puffs, a Flutter, and the Bird Drops to
Earth 98
My Jungle Friends 104
Usually Our Hunters Were Successful 116
The Toucan Makes an Interesting Pet 118
[ xiii]
ILLUSTRATIONS
Abraham, Felling a Woodskin Tree 122
Preparing Woodskin Bark for Canoe 124
Finished Woodskin Canoe with Ends Open 124
Our Jungle Home 128
An Interior View of Our "Logie" 132
A Long Tom Diamond Washer 134
Jiggers Separating Diamonds from Gravel 134
[xiv]
UP THE MAZARUNI
FOR DIAMONDS
UP THE MAZARUNI
FOR DIAMONDS
CHAPTER I
''ARE YOU GAME TO TRY IT?''
HERE'S a queer looking letter," I said
to myself one day early in the
spring of 191 7. I could hardly
make out the postmark. It was something of
a surprise to receive a letter from British
Guiana, as I finally deciphered it, but the
contents were even more surprising.
The letter was from my friend Dudley P.
Lewis.
"I need a partner in a diamond mining ven-
ture," he wrote. "Are you game to try it out
with me? It will be a long trip full of adven-
tures and dangers, but there are diamonds
here to be had for the digging."
He wrote much more. I became enthusias-
tic on the moment and was determined to go
if possible. I had little trouble in arranging
this and wrote him that I would come.
[i]
UP THE MAZARUNI
On the tenth of May I sailed from New
York on the steamship Saga to Barbados,
where Lewis met me. He was dehghted and
quite as enthusiastic as I. He had been in
Georgetown, British Guiana, for a while on
other business and had learned about the dia-
mond fields away up the famous, and treach-
erous, Mazaruni River.
From Barbados we sailed away to South
America on the steamer Parima. I was sur-
prised to find Georgetown such a large city,
60,000 inhabitants, and, as the buildings were
all one and two stories, one can imagine how
it spread out.
"Can we start to-morrow?" I asked, after
we had reached our hotel. Lewis laughed.
"Hardly," he said. "This isn't like a trip
back home where you can toss some clothes
and clean collars in a bag, buy your ticket,
catch your train and be off."
I had not given much thought to exactly
how we were to travel. But I soon learned
that to journey up a great river for hundreds
of miles with a score of natives, taking all the
food for a six months' stay, was a matter that
could not be arranged in a moment.
[2]
FOR DIAMONDS
The starting out place for the trip was
twenty miles from Georgetown at a town up-
river called Bartica. But as Bartica has only
twenty inhabitants we bought everything in
Georgetown. There we busied ourselves with
the preparations. It seemed as though there
were a million details to look after, and I got
an idea of what an explorer is up against, as
we had to outfit ourselves about the same as
an exploring party would.
''We must get lead guns, beads, mirrors
and other trinkets," said Lewis.
''What's the big idea?" I asked. "Are we
to open a five and ten cent store for the na-
tive Indians up there?"
*'Not exactly," laughed Lewis, "but we
must have something to trade with. What
use is a silver or gold coin to a native back
hundreds of miles in the jungle? He'd rather
have a twenty-five cent kitchen knife than a
fifty dollar gold piece."
The "lead guns" are not lead, as I learned,
but the very cheapest sort of cheap guns,
manufactured in England solely for trading
with semi-civilized and uncivilized people.
No live American boy would take one as a
[3]
UP THE MAZARUNI
gift, but I found that the natives treasured
them above everything else they possessed.
We were fortunate in finding a Dutch cap-
tain, a man who has navigated the turbulent
waters of the Mazaruni for twenty years.
And he picked out a skilled ''bowman," a na-
tive who stands at the bow of your boat, with
an immense paddle, and fends it off rocks,
gives steering directions and acts generally
as a sort of life preserver for the boat.
Then there was "Jimmy." He was a ne-
gro, rather undersized and as black as the
inside of a lump of coal. He appointed him-
self our special guardian, a sort of valet, over-
seer and servant. He looked after our per-
sonal belongings, cooked our food, made our
tea and devoted himself exclusively to us.
Twenty paddlemen were also engaged.
Sixteen of them were quite as black as our
Jimmy, and four of them were in varying
shades from tobacco brown to light molasses
candy tint. These latter were of mixed
Dutch and Negro blood.
"They are 'Bovianders,' " said the captain.
"Queer tribal name," I commented.
The captain laughed. "Not exactly a
[4]
''jimmy"
FOR DIAMONDS
tribal name/' he explained. ^They live up
the river quite a distance and so it is said
that they come from ^ above yonder.' They
have twisted that into ^Boviander,' so that
the word always means people who live up
the river."
While we were engaging our staff the cap-
tain was getting boats for us. He selected a
great fifty-foot boat seemingly as heavy as a
locomotive. It looked like a crude craft,
made of great thick planks. I soon learned
the necessity of such a heavy boat. We also
had a small boat for emergency and for little
side trips here and there.
Next came the ''eats." We had to take
enough food for ourselves, our twenty-two
helpers and partly enough for the native In-
dians that we were to employ later. When
the big boat was finally loaded properly under
the skillful direction of the captain, we had
five tons of food aboard and this included no
meat at all except salt fish. There was no
need to take meat, for game and fresh fish
were so plentiful that we were never without
them.
There was a queer, tent-shaped rig amid-
[s]
UP THE MAZARUNI
ships of our big craft. Beneath this was room
enough for us to stay sheltered during the
heat of the day. White men can seldom stand
the midday heat in British Guiana.
Packed all about us was the food. Jimmy
climbed to the top of the pile. The captain
took his position aft. The sturdy Boviander
bowman took his place at the bow with his
immense paddle, the twenty paddle men
took their places in four groups of five, one
group on each side, forward and aft of the
cargo.
Then they shoved off and began their pe-
culiar, noisy paddling.
The little town of Bartica fell away behind
us as we slid out into the broad expanse of
the old Mazaruni.
We were off at last, on our great diamond
mining adventure!
[6]
CHAPTER II
''IN THE LAND 0' MAZARUNr
EAGERLY I scanned the waters and
either shore, determined that noth-
ing should escape me, that I should
see everything and enjoy all that there was to
be enjoyed.
The captain sat, complacently smoking, at
the stern of the boat, the great steering pad-
dle, tied to the stern with thongs, in his
hands. He looked as bored as if crossing the
street to buy an evening paper. How could
he, when there was such glorious adventure,
I wondered. But afterwards I realized that
twenty years of navigating the river had
somewhat dulled the novelty of it for him.
With him it was work, and nothing more.
To a boy used to paddling our own style
of light canoes, the paddling methods of those
black men seemed the most awkward in the
[7]
UP THE MAZARUNI
world. Yet they "got there," and I doubt if
any crew of white men, without years of
practice, could have propelled the heavy craft
as easily as they. Their method was to bend
forward, holding the paddle horizontally and
sliding it along the gunwale with a loud scrap-
ing noise, then suddenly lean over sidewise
and dig the paddle viciously into the water,
giving a sturdy backward tug with it, still
scraping the paddle against the gunwales. At
the end of this stroke they returned the pad-
dle to the horizontal position with a loud
thumping noise, sat up straight, then leaned
forward and repeated the stroke.
They kept perfect time. No varsity crew
boys ever worked in unison at the oars any
better, and they were forever singing. It
didn't matter whether they were paddling
twenty feet across a narrow inlet or making
an all day pull upstream, they always had
music with their paddling.
They were crude songs, partly English that
was scarcely understandable, partly native
dialect and partly something else that may
have been handed down to them from their
ancestors who were captured in Africa so
[8]
FOR DIAMONDS
many generations ago and brought over by
the early Dutch and EngHsh slave traders.
If the water was smooth and open, with
no current, our twenty paddle men would sing
as softly as the whispering of a summer
breeze. But if there was a current they
would sing louder. And the more difficult
the paddling, the louder they would sing. In
boiling rapids where it took every ounce of
their strength and they had to take quick,
short strokes to keep going, their voices arose
to an almost howling crescendo.
Soon Bartica was lost to view around a
point of land. For nearly six months we were
to see no more civilization than Indian vil-
lages here and there, hidden far back from
the river bank. As we swung up into the
broad river where the current became strong
enough to cause the paddlers to use a little
extra "elbow grease" they broke into a queer
song which I heard so many times after that,
that it still rings in my ears. I cannot trans-
late it. I do not know what it means, but
imagine that it is some sort of love song to
some dusky "Lena." This is the way it
sounds:
[9]
UP THE MAZARUNI
^^San, Lena, chile, I do love yd* ;
Me know so, hear so, yes!
Le, le, le, le, le, le,
Blow, ma booly boy, blow! Calif o 'ge 'ole!
Splenty o^goVs for A've been tor
r th^ lan^ o' Mazaruni!''
We came in sight of another boat. On the
Mazaruni every boat one sees that is going
in the same direction is an ''adversary" and
every paddler believes that it is his duty to
pass it. Then you see some fancy paddle
strokes, so weird and unusual and grotesque
that they are difficult to describe. One would
think that they were trying more to awe each
other with their paddle gesticulations than
with speed. How they race upstream, each
determined to get and keep the lead! The
captain told me that many lives were lost at
rapids because the racing paddlers would give
thought only to getting into the narrow passes
first and were frequently crashed upon the
rocks and overturned.
Not far from the little town is Kalacoon,
the biological station where at various times
Professor Beebe and the other scientists take
up their intimate studies of tropical life.
[ 10 ]
FOR DIAMONDS
This station is on a high hill where the Maza-
runi and Essequibo Rivers join. It was at
this place that Colonel Roosevelt stopped
when he visited the colony.
From this point the vegetation on both
sides of the river became so dense that it
seemed almost like greenish-black solid walls.
No huts or signs of human life were visible at
first. But finally, with sharp eyes, we got so
we could detect a slight opening, a log land-
ing at the water's edge or a faint suggestion
of a thatched hut in back of the shore row of
trees.
It would have been fearfully monotonous
but for the fact that Lewis and I devised a
new sort of game — to see which one could de-
tect the greater number of signs of human
habitation. Our natives, with sharper eyes,
would verify our discoveries. All this was in
the Boviander section, where the natives come
down from " 'Bove yonder.'' Just before
nightfall we reached the foot of the first falls
and landed to make camp for the night.
Before the big boat touched land Lewis and
I had leaped ashore to stretch our legs. The
blacks jumped out into the shoal water and
[II]
UP THE MAZARUNI
swung the boat into place and made it fast.
Jimmy began taking ashore our shelters. Sud-
denly he began a frantic search and in despair
cried:
^'No cookum!"
^^You bet you ^cookum,' " I shouted, *'I'm
starved."
*^No cookum! No cookum!" repeated the
distracted boy, mournfully.
Lewis investigated and came back with a
long face.
^'We did a bright thing," he muttered*
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Left all of our cooking outfit down at the
village!"
"There's two things to do, go without them
or go back and get them," I suggested.
"Can't go without 'em," said Lewis.
"Then there's one thing to do," I laughed.
I was not to be filled with gloom. The pros-
pects of a great adventure were far too joy-
ous. Our landing was at the last settlement
of the Bovianders. These half Dutch, half
Negro natives speak fairly understandable
English. I scouted around amongst them,
found a good canoe, took three black men and
[12]
FOR DIAMONDS
set out downriver. The two paddlers were
sturdy boys and, going down with the cur-
rent, they fairly made that old canoe whizz.
It was midnight when we got back to the
village. Everyone was asleep except the
dogs. They greeted us with howls, and many
of the men turned out. Perhaps they thought
they were to be attacked by some savage
tribe. But we soon explained, got our cook-
ing outfit, lashed it carefully to the canoe
and started back.
[13]
CHAPTER III
A FIRE BOAT AND A NATIVE
WEDDING
THERE was no speeding up against
the current, although the light
canoe made better progress than
our heavy boats. And then I heard a sound
that made me think I was back home. It
was the "put — put — put" of a gasoline motor.
I was amazed.
"Fire boat," grunted one of the black men.
I hailed it. A Dutchman answered and
came over to us. It was an ordinary native
boat to which he had attached one of those
portable motors which may be put on any
boat. He was going upstream and gladly
took us in tow, much to my delight. Other-
wise I would not have reached camp until
daylight, and the tropical nights (as I after-
ward learned) are not the sort of nights for
anyone, especially a white man, to be out in,
[14]
UP THE MAZARUNI
because of the terrible dampness and mists
as well as insect pests.
As we chugged along upriver, my three
blacks sitting back and grinning at their luck
because they would be paid just the same for
the trip although they escaped all of the hard
work, there suddenly came across the black
water the most weird sounds imaginable.
There were shrieks and falsetto laughter,
squeaks and tinkles and shrill pipings and
heavy stamping. I couldn't imagine what it
all meant.
^'Wedding celebration," said the Dutch-
man. "Let's put in and see the fun."
I stared at the black bank of the river
whence came the weird sounds, but could see
nothing. Finally, as my eyes became accus-
tomed, I caught faint glimmers of light that
seemed far inland, miles and miles, I thought.
In reality the natives were no more than a
quarter of a mile inland, or perhaps less. We
found a landing place and, guided by the
fearful din and the flickering lights, made our
way through the jungle to the higher, dry
ground beyond. I had all sorts of visions of
great snakes dropping on me and wild jungle
[15]
UP THE MAZARUNI
beasts grabbing at my heels, but nothing
worse than giant mosquitoes came near.
We came to the opening and a group of
huts. In front of one hut was an improvised
porch or platform. The boards were rough,
uneven and loosely laid across supports. At
one end sat a wrinkled and grizzled old man
playing a squeaky fiddle. Beside him squat-
ted two younger natives playing flutes. An-
other pounded upon the platform with a
cocoanut shell, beating time.
We were welcomed with nods and smiles,
but the natives could not pause in their fes-
tival to do more. They were dancing on that
platform. Overalls and frayed shirts and
rough brogans made up the evening dress
of most of the Bovianders, but the women
were decked out in gaudy skirts and waists.
Up and down and back and forth over the
boards, pouncing and scraping and stamping
their feet, they danced and laughed.
Tallow candles, oil lanterns and here and
there kerosene lamps were affixed to hut poles
or trees, and by this light the dancers cast
amazing shadows over everything, shadows
[i6]
FOR DIAMONDS
that moved and swayed and intertwined in a
most awesome manner.
And everyone was talking and laughing at
the same time. Every fourth word was un-
derstandable but there were many dialects
and vernaculars. There were cocoanuts to
eat and a peculiar sort of cake or bread. We
watched the merrymaking for quite a while.
The newly weds were cheered by means of
peculiar calls when they danced together. I
suppose those brown children of the jungle
danced all night. We finally grew weary of
it all and set out for camp.
[17]
CHAPTER IV
JUNGLE DAYS BEGIN
SUCH food as could be eaten without
cooking had been served and everyone
was asleep except Jimmy, who awaited
my coming, and tumbled me into a hammock
beneath a canvas shelter. I suppose I had
slept many hours but it seemed no more than
five minutes before I was awakened and
crawled out for breakfast. The camp kitchen
had been set up, the blacks had already eaten
and were getting the boats ready. Our break-
fast consisted of boiled rice, salt fish and
biscuits.
The second day up the river was unevent-
ful. There were broad sweeps of water,
grand, wide curves and the seemingly endless
mile after mile of thick jungle vegetation
growing down to the water's edge. That night
I had an opportunity to see how such an out-
fit was handled. We landed in a rather likely
[i8]
UP THE MAZARUNI
spot, not far back from the shore, at five
o'clock. Some of the blacks brought the
kitchen outfit ashore, others cut long poles
and put up the canvas shelters. It seems that
we took our "hotel" along with us, merely a
great canvas cover, and spread it anew at
each night's camp.
A great pole was placed in the crotch of two
trees, about twelve feet above ground, the
canvas stretched across this and propped up
with shorter poles and ropes. Beneath this
were stretched two hammocks, one for Lewis
and one for myself. Meanwhile Captain
Peter and the bowman swung their hammocks
under the awning of the large boat.
Our twenty paddlers put up three smaller
shelters beneath which they swung their own
hammocks.
The tropic sun was turning the great Maza-
runi to a sheet of molten gold, deep blue dusk
was falling, this turning to gray, and then the
camp fires began to glimmer here and there.
The captain and bowman needed no camp
fire, sleeping on the boat, but we had our
own, and the natives had their own at each
shelter. Jimmy presided over our fire, made
[19]
UP THE MAZARUNI
coffee for us and prepared our supper. Cap-
tain Pete and the bowman had charge of the
food for the natives. The English laws out-
line clearly to the last ounce and gramme, just
how much food you must give the natives who
work for you, to live on.
It was interesting to watch Captain Peter,
assisted by the bowman, with their scales,
measuring out the rations to our paddlers.
The Government standard of weekly rations
for each man is: flour, 7 pints; salt fish, i
pound; sugar, i pound; rice, three and one-
fourth pints; salt pork, i pound; dried peas,
one and three-quarters pints; biscuits, i
pound. Frequently the men prefer the extra
portion of sugar in place of the peas, as the
sugar is a delicacy with them, desired above
all else.
Captain Peter, through long years of ex-
perience, knew just how to divide this weekly
allowance into daily portions and the blacks
trusted him. In line they would march down
to the boat, each with a tin plate, and receive
his portion, carefully weighed on the scales,
then he would march back to his camp fire
and prepare his food as best suited himself.
[20]
~.:^^>'-iS%^
A JUNGLE ''hotel"
W"
WE WORKED STEADILY UP
THE DANGEROUS RIVER
FOR DIAMONDS
At the same time each one was given extra
tea, sugar and crackers for the light morning
meal, to save time in breaking camp. With
their pint of flour they baked a cake beside
the fire, using the salt from their fish for the
seasoning. Sometimes boiled plantains were
eaten with their supper but these they
brought with them as they are not required
by the Governmental regulations to be fur-
nished them. These plantains are much like
bananas, but smaller and really considerably
different in taste. Then there was game and
fish to supply additional meat so that, with
the foodstuffs we brought along, everyone
fared quite well.
As soon as they had eaten and had cleaned
their tin plates they crawled into their ham-
mocks and filled their short black clay pipes
with tobacco. I must say that it was not a
very attractive brand of tobacco, to judge
from the odor. That night we gave cigarettes
to those who did not have them and after that
we sold them cigarette tobacco and papers
from our stock at cost. They are extremely
fond of them.
[21]
CHAPTER V
GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH
THE NATIVES
IT was at these times, as I soon learned,
that there was much amusement to be
had with these blacks. I learned of their
many superstitions, their ambitions, likes and
dislikes and much of the customs of that wild
country that could never be learned in any
other manner. This I learned both by means
of questions and by listening carefully as they
talked to each other. Their English was
about as easy to understand as that of the
Southern Georgia darkey, when they cared to
talk it.
A "Dodo" they told me — and they believed
it, too — is a sort of hairy bird-beast twenty
feet high which either eats men alive or car-
ries them off to its jungle nest and makes
slaves of them. Then they would name this
[22]
UP THE MAZARUNI
or that acquaintance and say, ''Ah spec' he
shuah was et by a Dodo, yes suh."
Caven, one of our paddlers, solemnly as-
sured me that he had seen a Dodo. Caven
looked much like a Dodo, or some sort of
missing link, himself. He said he was out
hunting monkeys and saw one.
"He gi' me scar' fo' true," said Caven, and
he must have seen some weird thing, or
dreamed that he did, for his teeth chattered
even at the telling of it. These blacks could
talk fairly understandable English when it
was necessary for them to make themselves
clear to us. Otherwise they could profess al-
most absolute ignorance of the language, and
among themselves they frequently talked a
jargon that would defy any linguist to in-
terpret.
Our men soon formed themselves into
cliques and they stuck to these groupings
throughout the long trip. The Bovianders
kept by themselves; the Berbicans (negroes
from Berbice) by themselves; and the De-
merarians (who believed themselves to be the
salt of the earth) likewise flocked together.
We had one Barbadian negro. Now to a
[23]
UP THE MAZARUNI
British Guiana darkey, a darkey from Bar-
bados— one of the Leeward Islands — is the
essence of laziness and good-for-nothingness.
I think the British Guiana darkey is right. I
found that Caven and his brother Berbicans
were really the best of the lot. In every test
of strength, bravery, skill and endurance, they
led the other blacks.
I really did not get my initiation into the
mysteries of hammock sleeping in the tropics
until the second night because on the first
night I tumbled in about three in the morn-
ing too tired to know whether I was in a ham-
mock or a feather bed. But on this second
night I found myself doubled up like a cres-
cent moon. I twisted and squirmed and
wriggled about in my fantastic debut into
the brotherhood of hammock sleepers before
I discovered that the trick was simple enough,
once you got on to it, that of sleeping diagon-
ally across it from head to foot.
Having made this discovery I arose and got
out the victrola we bought in Georgetown. It
was a small, cheap one, but the best invest-
ment I ever made. I don't know what in-
duced me to do this, but with a large assort-
[24]
FOR DIAMONDS
ment of records that machine drove away
gloom and dull care through many and many
a dreary evening.
The blacks enjoyed it immensely, and it
seemed strange to be mingling the voices of
our opera singers with the screech of monkeys
and the howls of red baboons and piping of
strange night birds in the tropical jungle.
The camp fire died low, at last. Fresh
lanterns were lighted and the men prepared
for sleep. This was no simple matter to
them. To me it was the most astonishing
sight I had witnessed. They made ready for
bed by putting on all of the clothing they
possessed. Then they wrapped cloths around
their hands, feet and necks. Some even
pulled bags down over their heads and tied
them. The "wealthy" blacks had bags for
each foot. Our empty flour bags became
grand prizes to be used for this purpose,
which we awarded to the best workers.
By the faint camp fire light and flicker of
lanterns those natives certainly did look
queer, like fantastic goblins, all muffled up.
There was little that seemed human about
them as they clambered into their hammocks
[25]
UP THE MAZARUNI
and rolled themselves up, pulling over the
flaps until quite lost to view.
"Does it get so cold at night that we have
to wrap up like that?" I asked Jimmy.
"No suh, dey's feered o' vampire bats.
That there is a part protection."
I couldn't get the "part protection" mean-
ing of it, and all Jimmy would explain was
that they had some sort of superstitious "voo-
doo" rigmarole performances to keep away
the vampires.
I was quite excited about it. From early
boyhood I had read about the deadly vampire
bats that come upon you when you are sleep-
ing and suck your life blood away. Secretly
I hoped that I would be bitten by one so that
I could boast of it when I got back home.
The blacks were asleep. By virtue of be-
ing a sort of aide-de-camp Jimmy was allowed
to swing his hammock in a corner of our shel-
ter. He insisted that the lantern be kept
burning all night.
"No need of it," I told him.
"Yes suh, they is. Mister Laver," (which
was the best he could do in the way of pro-
nouncing my name). "Ef yo' don' bu'n a
[26]
FOR DIAMONDS
lantum all night yo' will shuah be annoyed."
"Annoyed?" I laughed.
"Uh, huh, annoyed by vampires," he an-
swered, very solemnly.
But I couldn't sleep with the lantern light
in my eyes and so blew out the light. Sev-
eral times in the night, poor scared Jimmy
tried to light it, but I yelled at him.
Neither Lewis nor myself was ever bitten
by a vampire. Sometimes one would alight
on my hammock, but fly away without trying
to bite me. Yet, despite their great care, our
blacks were frequently bitten. They would
become restless in the night, kick off some of
their wrappings and then the vampires would
get at them.
I have heard that vampires are deadly. I
never knew personally of a fatal case. I do
know that they always pick out a blood ves-
sel for their biting spot and that they never
awaken the sleeper. The more blood they
draw, the sounder is the sleep of the victim
and the bite does not become painful until the
next day.
I should say that our crew of blacks must
have lost, among them, a couple of quarts of
[27]
UP THE MAZARUNI
blood during the trip. Some of them were
quite lame and sore and a bit weakened as a
result, but that was all. As near as I can
figure it out the vampires prefer the blood
from gentlemen of color rather than from
pale-faced Americans.
[28]
CHAPTER VI
LIFE ON THE RIVER
DAYLIGHT! Daylight!"
It was the stentorian shout of
Captain Peter. He was a human
alarm clock. He never failed to awaken at
the first gleam of daylight. In the tropics it
does not come on with a slow pink dawn as
here, but seems to burst through the gray
morning sky in a flash.
There was a scramble everywhere and all
tumbled out of the hammocks. Camp fires
were lighted, tea was boiling and in a short
time everyone was getting into the boat. The
natives had our shelters down while we were
drinking tea. They came down to the boat
with their pots and pans jangling at their
sides, and at the captain's cry, ^Tn boats all! "
we climbed in, the darkies took up their pad-
dles and began their noisy paddling, singing
at the same time. The sun was flaming over
[29] ^
UP THE MAZARUNI
the top of the jungle from the distant shore
of the river, three quarters of a mile away,
and we set out on our journey.
Lewis and I took seats on top of the canvas
where we could see everything. We passed
through a wide part of the river full of islands
and deep channels and treacherous currents
and whirlpools. Only a skillful man like Cap-
tain Peter could have guided our boat through
the right channels, as some of them contain
whirlpools that look smooth enough on the
surface but would have dragged even as heavy
a craft as our own under without a struggle.
Some of the islands were a mile in area,
some no bigger than a doormat. In and out
amongst them we paddled and finally came to
a smoother, more open part of the river.
"Eleven o'clock!" cried Captain Peter.
I looked at my watch. It was just eleven
o'clock.
"Your watch is right. Captain," I called.
"I have no watch, sir," he replied. "I use
God's time."
It was a fact, he told time by the sun, and
seldom was a minute out of the way.
Eleven o'clock was always breakfast time.
[30]
FOR DIAMONDS
How those black men could paddle up against
a strong current towing our smaller boat,
from five o'clock to eleven with only a cup
of tea was more than I could understand.
Yet they did it, and worked well and never
seemed hungry. At eleven we always went
ashore and cooked breakfast, cakes, rice,
boiled plantains, salt fish and tea. Then we
would pile back into the boat again and keep
on until just before sunset, trying to make a
good landing in time to pitch camp before
dark.
That long afternoon was tiresome to me. I
scanned the deep foliage everywhere in hopes
to see many wild beasts and reptiles. I re-
called my school geography, with its wood-
cuts of jungles showing great alligators on the
shores, giant boa constrictors writhing in
trees, monkeys hopping from branch to
branch and queer, bright-colored birds flit-
ting about. This was jungle, surely enough,
with such thick vegetation that only crawling
things could penetrate it, yet for hours I saw
no signs of life there. There were wonderful
orchids that would, if they could be brought
to New York, sell for fabulous sums. There
[31]
UP THE MAZARUNI
were queer looking trees, great fronded palms,
hanging moss as thick as large hawsers and
other growing things that I knew nothing
about.
In Georgetown I had heard tales of giant
forty-foot snakes. I never saw one. I did
catch a glimpse of a small snake which they
told me was deadly poison. He was hanging
from a limb over the water. We were pad-
dling close inshore to avoid a current. One
of the blacks saw it and in a flash knocked it
far away into the stream with a blow of his
paddle and kept on paddling, because to him
this was a common incident. His eyes were
trained to see such things.
That night we camped at Topeka Falls, or
just below them, and the roar lulled me to
sleep.
I discovered that the first part of our trip
upriver was not as full of adventures as I had
hoped. But adventure came in good time.
The routine was the same, night after night,
but there were many new things of interest
to see, many narrow escapes and considerable
trouble in one way and another. At this
[32]
a-
a-
FOR DIAMONDS
camping place I stripped and was about to
take a swim.
'Hey, quit that," shouted Lewis.
'I won't hurt your old river," I laughed.
'You won't come out alive, sir," said the
captain.
"There isn't an alligator or crocodile or
whatever you call 'em in sight," I insisted and
started to dive. Jimmy restrained me.
"No go in. Fish eatum up," he said.
I laughed at the idea of a fish eating me up.
The captain tossed a salt fish into the water.
There was a swish and a big fish came and
grabbed it. I didn't get a very clear look at
the fish but he looked bigger than a whale and
his teeth seemed altogether too prominent
for me to fool with.
I discovered that the river was full of
"perai," a decidedly savage fish extremely
fond of human beings. One of them will de-
vour a man in a short while.
I gave up my plan of having a swim and
Lewis and I satisfied ourselves by sitting on
the edge of the small boat and splashing
water over each other.
[33]
CHAPTER VII
MUTINY AMONG THE CREW
OUR fifth night was Saturday. We
did not intend to travel or work on
Sunday. We selected a splendid
camp site. Heretofore the blacks had waited
and given us the best camping place. But we
nad been treating them so well that they
thought our kindness to them was not kind-
ness at all, but fear of them. And so they
started to make their shelter on the best spot.
"You can't have that place/' I said.
"We got it," grinned one of the men. Most
of the others stuck by him. One or two
slunk off.
"Go down there," I commanded.
"We stay here/' he declared and stood his
ground.
I was in an uncomfortable position. If I
let them have their way this time there would
be no living with them. If I got in a fight —
[34]
UP THE MAZARUNI
they were, after all, twenty- two blacks to
three whites — they could overpower us.
Suddenly I had a vision of how they would
abuse us if I gave in. I could see them grin-
ning at each other, believing that we were
afraid of them. That situation would be un-
bearable. I turned on the black man and
pointed with my left hand down the slope.
"Get down there and stay down!" I com-
manded.
"I won't — ''
He didn't say any more. My fist shot out
and took him under the ear and he went over
like a stick of wood. Then I wheeled to face
the others.
I really expected a fight, but the blacks
stared at their fallen companion who rolled
down the slope, their eyes bulging, and be-
fore I had time to bark out a short command
for them to get out, they hastily snatched up
their belongings and ran down the hill.
I stood there a moment, waiting to let my
anger cool off a little to make sure that I
would not say things or do things unnecessar-
ily severe or that I would regret. Then I
strode down to where they were grouped and
[35]
UP THE MAZARUNI
where the first black was dazedly rubbing his
chin. When they saw me approach they
again dropped their things and started to run
away.
^'Don't run. You are all right there," I
shouted. They paused and looked at me
suspiciously.
^We are running this little outfit/' I said
to them, pointing to Lewis, "and we are hir-
ing you to work for us. You know your
places. Keep them and you will get good
treatment, otherwise you will be the sorriest
niggers in British Guiana. For every wrong
that you do, you shall be punished. For
every good thing that you do you shall be re-
warded. We are treating you kindly because
it is the right thing to do, not because we are
afraid of you. Your punishment for attempt-
ing to dispute our authority shall be to sleep
to-night without your shelter cloth!"
Then I picked up their shelter cloth, turned
my back on them and walked away. To be
quite truthful, I was not a little frightened
when I turned my back, fearing treachery, yet
it was the only thing to do. I knew that I
had to make them believe that I was without
[36]
FOR DIAMONDS
fear of them or of anything else, otherwise I
would not win their respect or co-operation.
Meekly they arranged to hang their ham-
mocks without the shelter cloth, seeming to
take it for granted that they had this penalty
coming to them for the way they had acted.
^^You acted like a veteran explorer," said
old Captain Peter to me. "You did just right,
boy. If you had given in they would not
have worked, they would have stolen every-
thing and they would have abused you
during all the trip."
Most of the white men that these native
darkies knew had been of a rough sort, ad-
venturous Dutchmen and others, who kicked
them about and treated them without the
least regard until the poor black boys — we
call all bl^rk^ ^^hoAis" — thought that it was
the white man's natural way. When we
showed kindness to them and full regard for
their comfort they mistook it for fear. And,
thinking that we were afraid of them, they
decided to run things themselves. It did not
take them long to learn that American white
men are not brutes and that when they
worked hard and acted on the square they
[37]
UP THE MAZARUNI
would be treated with kindness. And I am
sure no group of native blacks, as a whole,
ever worked more faithfully than this bunch
after they had learned their lesson. There
are always a few exceptions. One or two be-
came lazy, one or two tried to steal diamonds,
later, but we had our own methods of hand-
ling them.
For the first time in my life I learned by
direct experience the value of superiority of
intelligence. We white men, being mentally
far superior to the blacks, could rule them.
Had they known their own strength they
could have overpowered us at any time. And
I recalled that in all of my histories the same
has held good. The mentally superior people
have ruled the less intelligent.
[38]
CHAPTER VIII
THE GLORIOUS FOURTH
^ ■ ^ HIS was our fifth night of camping
on the banks of the Mazaruni. We
I
were to be two nights here, as we did
not intend to travel or work on Sunday.
By the time we had our shelters erected
and this little mix-up with the blacks had
been settled, Lewis suddenly looked up from
his notebook in which he was keeping a sort
of journal, and said, ^^Say!"
"Say it," I remarked, lazily, from my ham-
mock where I was resting.
"Whoop-ee!" shouted Lewis, leaping to his
feet.
"What's got you?" I demanded. "Is it a
vampire down your neck or a crocodile up
your trousers leg?"
"This, my beloved fellow American, hap-
pens to be the fourth day of July, in the year
[39]
UP THE MAZARUNI
of our Lord nineteen hundred and seventeen,
and the one hundred and forty-first year of
our country's independence!" was his reply,
whereupon I stared at him a moment and
then I, too, leaped up and emitted a war
whoop. Fourth of July in a far-away jungle !
In the British Guiana wilds we of course
couldn't do just as we would have done back
in the United States, but we did the next best
thing. While he was getting out some fire-
arms I dug up several flags we had with us
and soon the Stars and Stripes were much in
evidence. We rigged a pole in the center of
our camp, raised our largest flag and, with
hats off, repeated the oath of allegiance.
Then we ran the colors up on our boats and
stuck the smaller flags about in various
places.
Our next move was a bit of noise.
''Bang-bang-bang-bang!" went our repeat-
ing rifles. Then we shot our revolvers and
finally we improvised a "cannon" out of a
hollow log, filled it with blasting powder from
our stock for mining, attached a fuse and
kept up our firing of small arms until sunset,
which was then but a few minutes coming.
[40]
FOR DIAMONDS
Lewis lighted the fuse. I stood by at the
flag and began to lower it.
^'WHANG!"
It certainly was some explosion. Bits of
the old log flew in every direction.
Quickly I lowered the flag, for that final
explosion was our ^'sunset gun."
There were some scared blacks in our
party. They thought we had surely gone
crazy. Those who had attempted to assert
themselves when we landed were certain that
we intended to kill them. But Captain Peter
explained to them that it was our national
holiday and that we were celebrating, and
this made them feel better.
I ordered an especially good feast that
night, some tinned fruits and double por-
tions of food for all. Then we got out the
victrola and I selected all of the old war songs
and all of our patriotic music that we had,
and for two hours Lewis and I made a bluff
at singing everything from "Yankee Doodle"
and ''Columbia the Gem of the Ocean" to
"America" and "The Star Spangled Banner."
It was the most unusual Fourth of July
celebration I had ever experienced and, now
[41]
UP THE MAZARUNI
that we are having sane Fourths at home, I
believe we burned more gunpowder away up
there in the jungles of British Guiana on the
banks of the Mazaruni than was burned in
half the cities at home.
[42]
CHAPTER IX
BABOON FOR DINNER
SUNDAY we sat about camp, reading
and chatting for a while. Then we
heard the peculiar roaring of the wild
red baboons, and the blacks wanted to go
into the jungle and shoot some, as these men
are extremely fond of the meat.
Off a party of us went, through the thick
jungle and into the more open forests on the
uplands back from shore. Again I kept my
eyes open for the giant snakes I had been
told about. But I saw none. Finally some
of the blacks, circling ahead, came upon some
of the red baboons and we heard their shots.
Hurrying on to get into the fun I heard one
howl close to me. Finally I made him out,
high in a tree. By good luck I got him with
the first shot and he came tumbling down at
my feet, quite dead and one of the most
[43]
UP THE MAZARUNI
hideous looking beasts to be found. My ap-
petite was not whetted in the least at thought
of eating him. The blacks came back with
two more which they had got after a dozen
or more shots. The fact that I dropped one
the first shot increased their respect for me
because it indicated that I was a dead shot.
I did not deny it^ although the truth was that
I was by no means a crack marksman.
' On the way back I suddenly let out a yell
and tried to shake something from the back
of my hand. From the feeling I was sure it
was a red hot poker, jabbed quite through my
hand. What I did see was a small red ant.
He had hooked his biting apparatus into the
skin of my hand and I had to pull him off.
There must have been some sort of poison on
him for sharp pains, like needles of fire,
darted through my hand and up my arm. It
was an hour or more before the pain went
away.
Jimmy hailed our arrival with the baboons
with delight and proceeded at once to dress
and cook the one I had bagged. Both Lewis
and myself were rather skeptical about eating
any. However, we had been without our cus-
[44]
FOR DIAMONDS
tomary quantity of fresh meat and decided to
try some.
Jimmy boiled some of it with salt pork,
seasoning it well. Very gingerly Lewis and I
tasted it. The meat was dark, very tender
and, to our surprise, tasted much like rabbit
or gray squirrel meat.
"I feel like a cannibal, eating baboon,"
laughed Lewis.
"Darwin said we were related to monkeys,
not baboons," I argued.
"Well, a baboon belongs to the same fam-
ily. I feel as though I were dining on a dis-
tant relative."
But we soon learned to overcome such feel-
ings and the meat was really excellent. How
the darkies did feast on it! There wasn't
an unpicked bone or a shred of it left by the
time they were finished.
Monday, our seventh day on the river,
found us in the midst of some perilous rapids
and facing some tough propositions in the
way of portages. In the shallow waters there
was no danger from the Perai, or man-eating
fish, and the darkies could leap out, fasten a
line at the bow and two at the stern and haul
[45]
UP THE MAZARUNI
the craft up over ledges to still and deep
water. But frequently it meant that we were
to pile out and lighten the boat by removing
the five tons of supplies !
Twice we had to carry those five tons of
provisions and other supplies two or three
hundred yards around portages while the
boys hauled the heavy boat up the ledges. To
make matters worse, there was a drizzling
rain. After we got further up the river we
had less trouble with rains because they came
regularly, morning and night, without fail.
We made a camp in the rain and ate beneath
our shelters.
Early in the forenoon of the next day we
came within sight of Caburi, the largest falls
on the Mazaruni River, At this point the
Puruni River joins the Mazaruni. It was a
big job to unload and carry our provisions
and other equipment up over the high ledges
by hand, for while it was only a carry of
about a hundred yards, it was difficult clam-
bering up over steep ledges of the falls with
them. It took us more than half the day just
to get over the falls and load again.
I had been taking a number of pictures,
[46]
ONCE IN A WHILE A BOAT
SHOT PAST US
AT TIMES A PORTAGE MUST
BE MADE
FOR DIAMONDS
but I lost many of them because I did not
know that the warm water of the tropics
would ruin the negatives. The developing
tank is excellent at home, but down there
in torrid British Guiana where the water is
always from 75 to 80 degrees above zero in
temperature, not even the tanks would save
them, the heat of the water softening and
ruining the emulsion on the celluloid films.
The only way I could do, as I afterwards
learned, was to take the pictures and then
seal the exposed films in tin boxes and wait
until I got back to a cooler climate or to civ-
ilization where I could get ice to put in the
fluids.
[47]
CHAPTER X
IN THE INDIAN COUNTRY
OVER the Caburi Falls we found a
broad expanse of still water, smooth
and, while the current was fairly
swift, by no means like the treacherous rapids
below.
^'Better navigating now, until almost up to
the Big Bend, sir," said Captain Peter.
The ^'Big Bend" was a name to conjure
with for Lewis and me, for away up the
Mazaruni were the diamonds, where the river
makes a sharp bend and begins to almost
double in its tracks. This is due to the hilly
formation and the lowlands between the hills.
^This is the Indian territory," added the
captain, whereupon I became instantly alert,
for I was anxious to see the real natives of
this wild country.
Our blacks are called "Native Blacks," but
[48]
UP THE MAZARUNI
in truth they are no more native to British
Guiana than are the negroes of the United
States native to North America. They all
had the same ancestors, the blacks of Africa
who were brought over in slave ships to be
sold.
The reason the Indians live in the upper
reaches of the river was plain enough, for
here the water was smooth and navigable for
their peculiar light dugouts and their egg-
shell-like woodskins, canoes made of bark.
We had no more than swept around the
first great bend in the broad expanse of still
water above the falls than we saw a canoe
loaded down with an Indian family and their
possessions.
^'Good! " exclaimed Captain. ^'We will get
them to hunt for us and have plenty of fresh
meat and good fish. I will call them.''
Then he did a peculiar thing. Instead of
shouting to them, and they were surely nearly
half a mile away, he called in a very low tone
of voice, softer by far than he would use in
speaking to the bowman on our own craft.
^'Yoo-hoo. Yoo-hoo," he said, over and
over, a dozen times.
[49]
UP THE MAZARUNI
"They'll never hear you. Let me show you
how to shout to them," I said.
"No-no," warned the captain. "A great
shout will frighten them. Their ears are so
well trained to every sound of the river and
jungle that they can hear almost every sound.
A loud noise startles them."
"Yoo-hoo," he repeated again, in a low
tone.
The Indians heard, turned their heads and
studied us and then began to paddle toward
us. Gradually our boats came together and
I studied them eagerly. It was a strange
sight to me, the first really uncivilized people
I had ever seen. Before they got to us one
of the men stopped paddling and called, in a
low tone:
"Me-a-ree ! Me-a-ree ! "
"Me-a-ree!" repeated Captain Peter.
"What does that mean?" I demanded.
"It is a form of greeting, sir. It means a
combination of 'How do you do?' and 'We are
friends.' Always use it when you meet the
native Indians."
They talked in low mutterings but the cap-
tain seemed to be able to understand them.
[50]
FOR DIAMONDS
Later they talked in a sort of pidgin English
that I could understand fairly well myself.
At first I was a bit bashful about staring
at them, thinking that they would be embar-
rassed or consider me rude, and that it might
affect their modesty. I laugh now every time
I think of that. In the first place, they do
not know the meaning of the word "mod-
esty." Not that they are immodest, but that
they go about with scarcely any clothes,
which seems quite all right to them. And as
for embarrassing them by staring at them,
they consider it an honor to be stared at, to
have someone take an interest in them.
To me they were a great curiosity. The
entire family was crowded in their small ca-
noe, the old grandfather with a gray tinge to
his hair although with bright eyes and strong
muscles, as his paddling showed; his son,
son^s wife, their son, who was quite a youth;
two younger boys and several babies. Then
there were several tame parrots, a large blue
and yellow macaw that croaked incessantly
and a worried little flea-bitten dog much
mauled by the babies.
And packed in about them in their none
[51]
UP THE MAZARUNI
too safe canoe I saw a dozen chunks of
smoked meat, lying about like so much fire-
wood to be walked over, a dozen or more very-
stiff and black smoked fish, several baskets of
queer vegetables, a bunch of small bananas,
bows and arrows, blowpipes and bundles of
the dangerous poisoned blowpipe arrows with
tips wrapped, fish spears, game spears and a
large iron pan which was originally used for
washing gold, but used by this Indian fam-
ily— who prized it above all their worldly
goods — as a kettle, stove, frying pan and
griddle.
In the center of the boat on a large piece
of wet and noninflammable bark, lay a heap
of glowing coals, to be used for their cooking
fire wherever they might camp or upon their
return to their home. From this I figured it
out that matches in the jungle were not to be
had for the asking.
We gave each man cigarettes, which at
once made us friends. The captain began to
dicker with the men about securing game for
us, and as they talked I made a study of them.
One thing is certain, they are not bothered
by the high price of clothing. I looked at the
[52]
THE FIRST JUNGLE INDIANS
W E S A W
AN INDIAN FISHERMAN
FOR DIAMONDS
big boy, he was about sixteen I should judge
— about the age when I got into long
trousers and had plenty of difficulties in keep-
ing them pressed, when I worried about the
right style and fit of collars and the proper
tie to go with my shirt, when collar buttons
and scarf pins and cuff links were important
to me and I craved silk socks and kept my
shoes polished and my clothes brushed. It
was a serious matter in those days, as every
boy knows, getting up in the morning, getting
properly dressed and off to school in time.
And I looked at this big boy. He wore a red
loin cloth which was about a foot long, sus-
pended from a "belt" made of some wild
vine. That was all the clothing that he
possessed in the world, all that he needed and
I'm sure every boy will envy him his com-
fort, if nothing more. The men, too, wore
loin cloths, red, and about two feet long,
tucked into vine belts.
The women wore smaller loin cloths, called
an apron or "queyu." These were decorated
with beads and held on by a string of beads
instead of vines. The smaller children wore
nothing at all. Some of the women wear
[S3]
UP THE MAZARUNI
necklaces made of shells, animal teeth or
beads or all three. Some have bright dried
beans for beads and most of them wear
strings of beads around their legs just below
the knees.
The men seemed fairly well built. Their
light, copper-colored skin was smooth and
remarkably clean. Their hair was jet black
and as straight as that of our own North
American Indians, and their features slightly
resembled those of our Indians at home, al-
though not so strong and picturesque. Some
of them, men and women, are tattooed and
also decorated with ^^beena," done by cutting
into the arm and letting the scars heel deeply
in queer designs. This ^'beena," I learned, is
believed by them to be a charm against all
sorts of evil and, on the women's arms (wo-
men mostly use this "decoration''), they think
that it helps them to weave hammocks and to
make their everlasting cassava bread.
The parrots and the dog seemed very
friendly, the birds walking over him and
making queer, low, croaking sounds, the dog
lazily watching them walk over him and
now and then wagging his tail.
[54]
FOR DIAMONDS
One peculiarity about their talk, the pidgin
English, was something like that of the
Chinese coolies I had met in the West. They
substitute the letter 'T' for the letter "r" and
the letter ''b" for the letter "v." They say
"belly good" instead of "very good."
"So," finished the captain to the head man,
the grandfather, "you go hunt some game
and shoot some fish for us."
"Uh huh, me go hunt um. Shoot paccu,
shoot maam, anything. Bring 'long to you
bime by." And the Indians then paddled off
and were lost to view around the curve of
the river.
"Will they do it? Will they come and find
us?" I asked.
"They certainly will, sir. They want the
sugar and kerosene and other things we shall
trade with them for the game."
[ss]
chapter xi
''uncivilized;' but courteous,
quiet and clean
THAT night we pitched camp on the
left bank of the river. While pre-
paring supper I was investigating
the forest that circled the little clearing and
almost jumped out of my skin when I heard,
in soft voices, either side of me, the word
''Me-a-ree."
I am sure I jumped a couple of feet straight
up. There, standing right beside me, were
two of our Indian friends. They grinned at
my fright. Such good woodsmen are they
that they can come upon a person without
making a sound. Their naked bronze bodies
seem to blend with the forest shadows.
One of them had two paccu, the large, flat,
delicious fish that they shoot with bow and
arrow or sometimes spear. The other had a
^^maam" which is a bush turkey, not as large
[56]
UP THE MAZARUNI
as our wild turkeys. This he shot with a
blowpipe.
^'Me-a-ree," I exclaimed, as soon as I
caught my breath. I shuddered to think how
easily they might have killed me had they
been enemies. A white man hasn't a ghost of
a chance with such clever natives if they want
to get him, because he cannot travel in the
jungle and forests down there without being
heard, so keen is their hearing, while they can
come right up to him, even when his eyes and
ears are strained to see and hear, before he
knows their presence.
"These are real uncivilized men," I
thought, as I looked them over, standing there
in the dim, deep forest edge, with bow and
arrow and blowpipe, with the fish and bird,
their naked bodies almost the color of the
trees and shadows. But when I came to know
them better I discovered that if uncivilized
meant a rude, uncouth, ill-mannered, treach-
erous, dirty and disagreeable people, then
these natives were civilized, for I found them
to be real "nature's gentlemen," kind, cour-
teous, quiet and clean. It was father and
son who brought the game. They asked for
[57]
UP THE MAZARUNI
powder and shot for their guns. The father
was a sort of chief of their own little tribe and
he and his son each owned one of those price-
less ^'lead'^ guns, the cheap muzzle loaders
made expressly for such people. We had plen-
ty of powder and shot and made the exchange.
You or I could never get any game with
those "lead" guns because they will not carry
far, they will not shoot accurately and they
frequently miss fire entirely. But the skilled
Indians are able to stalk the game so quietly
that they can almost poke the muzzle of the
gun into the ribs of the game before they fire
point blank. We entertained them with
showing them our modern guns, and with
showing them their faces in good mirrors and
with victrola music, at which theJTTnarveled
greatly and chattered excitedly about it.
Then, as silently as they came, they disap-
peared into the forest to go to their homes
before the night mists should enshroud them.
I went down to the waters edge to watch
the last gleam of light, fast going, when sud-
denly there was the most terrific threshing
about that I had ever heard.
Something gigantic, seemingly as big as a
[ 58 ]
FOR DIAMONDS
mountain, arose in front of me. I thought it
must be a combination of crocodile and man-
eating fish come out of the water to feast on
me. Then I thought of something else.
"Good-night!" the thought flashed through
my mind, '^that nigger, Cavan, told the truth
when he described the ^Dodo' as a hair-
covered bird twenty feet high," and I 'had
visions of being transformed into either a
Dodo's supper or a Dodo's slave. Instinc-
tively I threw up my arms to ward off the ter-
rible creature, and fell backward.
The "giant" arose and sailed out across
the water. It was a toucan — that funny
bird with the immense bill that we have seen
in our picture books and stuffed and occasion-
ally alive in parks. His loud flapping, hoarse
croaking, and the spread of his wings in the
deepening twilight made him seem fully as
big as Cavan's mythological "Dodo."
I laughed at myself, yet the sudden rising
of a ruffed grouse in the deep forests at home
will frequently startle a chap quite as badly
as this, and I am sure that the poor toucan
was more scared than I, for I nearly stepped
on him when I approached the river bank.
[59]
UP THE MAZARUNI
As usual we moved on up the river all the
next day and camped at night. And quite
as silently as they had come before, the two
Indians appeared within our camp circle.
This time each had a wild boar slung over his
back like a knapsack. The beasts' feet were
tied together with a small vine. Father and
son had each killed one with a spear. They
were greeted warmly by us and given ciga-
rettes. But they did not seem to care about
parting with the game. After a while, being
persuaded by the clever Captain Peter, they
agreed to let us have them, but first they
must take them to their camp to clean them.
I learned the reason afterwards.
Here was my opportunity to see the In-
dians in their homes, to see how they lived.
^^Will it be all right to go home with
them?" I asked the captain. He said that it
would and so I turned to the father.
"Me walkee with you, savvy? Me go
long-side your home."
"No sabbe, no sabbe," said the Indian.
"I want to walk along home with you," I /
said, in straight English this time. The In-
dian understood that well enough.
[ 60 ]
''bringing home the bacon"
FOR DIAMONDS
"All li'. You come," he said.
Although he talked pidgin English, he
couldn't understand it when we talked it, but
he could understand straight English, except
when he didn't want to answer, then he
would say "No sabbe," and that settled it,
you couldn't get a word from him. They
were all like that.
I started out with them through the jungle
forest. The silence of the place, their foot-
steps being almost noiseless, was depressing.
I tried to talk.
"How far?" I asked.
"Me no sabbe," said the youth.
"How long will it take to get there?" I in-
sisted.
"Little," answered his father. They have
no idea of time as divided into hours and
minutes, they judge by nights, before "high
sun" or noon, and back to "no sun" or
evening.
[6i]
CHAPTER XII
A VISIT TO A NATIVE HOME
THEIR home was not as far away as
I had expected. But then, an In-
dian's ''home" is easily made, con-
sisting of some upright poles, roughly
thatched with long marsh grass. Beneath
this they place their belongings and they
sleep in hammocks at night. The forests
are full of little colonies or villages back from
the river. They hide well back, along small
streams, to secrete their camp fires from river
travelers. Our friends had moved along by
land as we moved by water and this night
they joined some other families. There were
several of the shelters and a fire burning in
front of each around which members of fam-
ilies squatted. This camp was on a wide /
stream entering the Mazaruni, and screened
by an island. As I entered their camp the
natives jumped up from the fires. Remem-
[62]
UP THE MAZARUNI
bering the captain's instructions I smiled at
all of them and said, ^'Me-a-ree, Me-a-ree."
They replied with the same greeting. I
handed the men presents and at once it was
understood that I was a friend. Our two
hunters dropped the wild boars, squatted be-
side them and in an amazing short time had
them opened and skinned. No butcher at
home with clean blocks and keen knives and
meat saws ever cut up meat as quickly or as
skillfully and neatly as did these men.
The women gathered about and helped
them in their work. The bladders were given
to two of the smaller boys, brothers of the
youth. At once they ran to the water and be-
gan to float the bladders and have fun with
them just as white children would do.
The intestines were carefully hung on poles
by a hot fire of green twigs, to smoke. These,
I was told, were to the Indians the ''best part
of the boar." I took their word for it, po-
litely refusing to taste of some of the smoked
intestines they already had on hand. This
surprised the people who, I am sure, must
have thought that I was all kinds of a fool to
refuse such a wonderful treat as that.
[63]
UP THE MAZARUNI
a>
Take what you want," said the old man,
pointing to the dressed meat. I selected the
hams, shoulders and ribs, and they nodded
and walked down to the water to wash.
Without a word it was understood that their
work was done. The women were to do the
rest, even to toting the meat to our camp.
Quite a number of the Indians came back to
our camp. The meat was given around to
our black men, saving some of it for our own
meals. Our blacks at once proceeded to build
a fire of green twigs and smoke their share of
the meat.
In our shelter the Indians squatted. One
of the Indians who had heard our victrola
pointed at it and made a circular motion with
his hand, indicating that he wanted us to
make the discs go around. Jimmy was de-
lighted to play host and proceeded to go
through our selection of records. The flea-
bitten dog backed away and howled at cer-
tain places during the concert, but one of the
parrots, which had come over perched on a
child's shoulder, was deeply interested and
flew to the victrola, lighted on it, eyed the
revolving record sharply, squawked delight or
[64]
/
FOR DIAMONDS
anger at the music and finally hopped down
on the revolving record.
He was probably the most surprised parrot
in the world, for that revolving record yanked
his feet out from under him and he fell
squawking on his back. The way that old
parrot flapped off of the victrola and back to
the child's shoulder was a caution, squawking
and snapping his beak as if he were swearing,
in bird talk.
The Indians laughed noisily and shrilly,
like children, at this.
We gave the women some little trinkets
and all of them a little food. One young
woman looked at my hammock and made up
a funny face, jabbering to an older woman
who nodded, and without a word to me she
took down my hammock and began to un-
ravel it. I decided to say nothing and watch
her. When it was all unraveled and nothing
but a pile of cords she began deftly to weave
it again and when she was finished it was as
even and smooth as any hammock ever made.
She had seen an uneven place in it, knew that
it would not be comfortable, and fixed it. I
slept much better in it that night. I gave her
[65]
UP THE MAZARUNI
a piece of scented soap, which delighted her.
With great pride she walked around letting
everyone have a smell of it. I saw her again
and she had bored a hole through the cake
and strung it on her necklace. I have often
wondered how long it lasted. As the Indians
never mind the rain but are out in it just as
they are in sunshine, that cake of soap cer-
tainly dissolved in time.
Jimmy served me a goodly portion of the
boar meat. Both Lewis and myself enjoyed
it. The meat was a bit stringy, but it was
delicious, nevertheless.
The night dampness and mists began to
settle. Without a word the Indians silently
departed into the forests, to go back to their
shelters and sleep in their hammocks. I asked
Jimmy about the vampires and he assured me
that the Indians were safe.
"Vampire bats ain't got no use for Injun,
suh. Reckin they don't admire the taste oL
'em."
The Indians sleep without clothes, other
than the mesh-like flaps of the hammocks
thrown over them, giving plenty of opportu-
nity for the vampires and also for the really
[66]
TWO QUICK PUFi;S, A FLUTTER,
AND THE BIRD DROPS TO EARTH
,n
FOR DIAMONDS
dangerous mosquitoes, which proved my un-
doing, as I will tell about later. The Indians
seldom have jungle fever or malaria and if
the mosquitoes do bite them there are no
bad effects.
[67]
CHAPTER XIII
THE SNAKE THAT DISAPPEARED
THAT night Cavan remarked that we
were now getting into the big snake
district.
^'Big snake feller here plenty. Sho' he
scar' yoV said Cavan.
"How long?" I asked.
"Some like a tall tree, some not so much/'
said Cavan. And then they discussed the
snakes, how they encircle wild boars and other
big animals and "squeeze 'em inter a pulp an'
eat 'em." It was interesting, but I found my-
self looking out into the jungle and imagin-
ing that every branch I could see was a giant
snake."
That night I was awakened and felt my
hair standing up and quivering and prickling
at each root, for, hanging down from the
tree in front of me, to which was suspended
the foot end of my hammock, was a great
[68]
UP THE MAZARUNI
snake. I couldn't stir at first. He lowered
his head and swung it about like a pendulum,
finally resting it on the foot of my hammock.
Then, raising his head, he seemed to see me.
In the dim light from a pale moon and a
ghastly glow from the coals of our fire I
could see the snake's bright eyes and his
tongue darting in and out.
I tried to shout. I tried to look about and
see if Lewis was still asleep, to see if he
couldn't help me. I tried to call Jimmy, to
see if he was awake, but couldn't seem to
turn my head.
The snake slid further down the tree and
glided across my stomach. He was so long
that much of him was still draped up the tree
and over a limb. He raised his head and
opened his jaws, as if laughing at my helpless-
ness, and I thought of many things.
I thought that it was a silly thing to have
ventured off into these wilds. I wondered
why I had not been satisfied to stay in a white
man's country and not butt into the wild
jungles of the Indians. I thought of every-
one at home and finally decided that no snake
was going to finish me that way without one
[69]
UP THE MAZARUNI
good struggle. I looked keenly at his neck
to decide just where his throat was, located
it back of his jaws and, as he lunged at me,
I let out a terrific yell and clutched both
hands in a life-and-death grip around the
neck of the great snake.
He tried to yank away and his strength
lifted me upright from the hammock, his
whole body quivered. Still I clung on. Then
he began to writhe horribly and to thrash
about, swaying me this way and that.
In the struggle I fell from the hammock to
the ground, still with my deadly grip about
that snake's neck. With my fingers clutched
in a death grip about his throat, I felt that I
would be better able to defend myself. I
must have had this thought during the proc-
ess of falling, for when I struck the ground
with a terrific jolt I found my fingers clutched
in the holster of my revolver.
Instantly I was on my feet, looking this
way and that for the snake. There was no
snake in sight ! Where had he gone? Hooked
about again and discovered that there had
been no snake at all !
It was the result of my talk with Jimmy
[70]
FOR DIAMONDS
and Cavan the night before about mammoth
snakes. The perspiration was dripping from
my face. I looked about stealthily to see if
any of my companions had witnessed my
dream struggles, but all seemed to be sleeping
peacefully, so I climbed back into my ham-
mock, yet the dream so upset me that I was
unable to sleep any more. However, it was
almost dawn.
"How did you sleep last night?" asked
Lewis, when he sat up in his hammock.
"Bully," I declared, giving him a sharp
look to see if he was trying to kid me about
my foolish dream, but either he had not
awakened or else was a good actor, for he
never let on that he knew about it. My arm
was sore for days where I bruised it in strik-
ing a rock as I landed beneath my hammock.
It was the only bad dream I had during my
months in the jungle, but it was quite enough.
[71]
CHAPTER XIV
DIFFICULTIES OF JUNGLE TRAVEL
THE next two days our trip was dis-
agreeable because of continued
rains, but on the third day we
camped at four-thirty close to a "path" that
led to the largest Indian village. I was de-
termined to visit it and pictured quite a little
town. We could see the tall column of smoke
from their fires.
My companion and I were so eager to get
to this village next morning that we did not
wait to eat, but, taking a handful of food, set
out with one Boviander to carry a knife and
lantern.
For the first time I learned something of
the difficulties of jungle travel. We had to
slash through vines, wade through bogs of
slime and mud, clamber over gnarled roots
and stumble around in the most tangled
growth of vegetation I ever saw.
[72]
N
UP THE MAZARUNI
"If this is a ^path/ " I said to Lewis, "I'm
glad I'm not in the wilderness."
"No go outside path," grinned the Bovi-
ander.
We assured him that we would not, but we
could find no trace of a path at all. When we
were not in muddy bogs, feeling our way to
make sure we would not step into some hole
over our heads, or clambering around fallen
trees and brush, we were going up short but
steep little hills covered with tangled vines.
After two hours of this, and being almost ex-
hausted, we came to a clearing.
"Here it is," shouted Lewis.
And as if to prove it we heard a rooster
crow. Eagerly we stumbled out into the
clearing and saw the few huts, but the place
was deserted.
"More further," said the Boviander;
"someone he die."
By this he meant that some member of the
village had died. The Indians always desert
their village when anyone dies in it, and move
on to establish another. They will never live
in a village where anyone has died.
The lonely rooster crowed defiantly at us
[73]
UP THE MAZARUNI
as we skirted the village to find the "path."
Having found it we moved on about a mile.
"Ah, here we are," I declared as I came
into an opening.
Not a soul in sight!
"Another die," commented our Boviander,
shrugging his shoulders.
"If the death rate is very high we'll never
overtake that village," grumbled Lewis.
Up above were tiny patches of blue, bits of
the sky that we could see through the thick
jungle growth. I saw some smoke and de-
cided that at last we were close to the village.
But at the opening we saw but a single
"house" or shelter. The Indian came for-
ward to see us.
Lewis had prospected up through this sec-
tion before sending for me, and when he saw
this Indian he exclaimed in a low voice,
"That's Simon."
He didn't seem at all glad to find him there,
but I had no opportunity to ask him about it
before Simon, the Indian, advanced and, smil-
ing as blandly as a Chinaman, exclaimed cor-
dially:
"Me-a-ree!"
[74]
FOR DIAMONDS
He told us that the village was quite a dis-
tance on, and offered to lead us there. Lewis
could not well refuse, as we had now gone far
away from our camp and the district was wild
and unknown to any of us. But I could see
that he was not very well pleased with the
prospect.
Simon motioned to his boy, a handsome,
copper-colored youth, to start on with him,
and proceeded to lead the way, taking a blow-
pipe and quiver of the poisoned arrows with
him. This, too, troubled Lewis. But there
seemed nothing else to do, so we followed.
On the way Lewis told me what was worry-
ing him. During his previous prospecting trip
when he went up the river to make sure that
there were diamond fields before sending for
me, he had found an old Indian very sick at
one of the villages. This was Simon's father.
Lewis did what he could for the sick old In-
dian, giving him quinine pills, the universal
cure-all in the jungle, but the old man died.
On this trip one of our men had heard that
Simon believed Lewis had purposely killed
his father and that he did it with the "magic
pills/' as he called the quinine.
[75]
UP THE MAZARUNI
"They say Simon has acted queerly ever
since/' explained Lewis, ''and he may imag-
ine that I really did kill his father and start
a little 'ka-ni-a-mer' of his own between just
him and me."
"And what on earth is a 'ka-ni-a-mer'?" I
demanded.
"Just about the same as an old Kentucky
feud where two families try for years to kill
each other off. So you see I'm not extremely
trustful of this bland Simon Injun," said
Lewis.
"And to top it all," he added, "I dreamed
the other night that my mother came and
warned me to look out as I was to be in great
danger."
This made me decidedly uneasy and I was
determined to keep my eye on Simon every
minute, staying between him and Lewis.
The trip to the village seemed long. There
was considerable uphill going. Every once
in a while Simon would turn and jabber at
his boy, who would instantly look around at
us, then reply to his father, who would hurry
on faster than ever. They were setting a ter-
rific pace. Already wearied with our travels
[76]
FOR DIAMONDS
before we came to Simon's hut, this was over-
doing it just a httle. But, worse than that, I
got the idea that Simon was trying to lose us,
to rush on far ahead and then hide and kill
us — or kill Lewis anyway, with his blowpipe
from ambush. I knew that just a scratch
from the poisoned tip of one of those slender
arrows would finish Lewis, or anyone else.
"You take my gun," I said to Lewis, "and
take it easy, while I keep up with him and
keep him right in plain sight."
Lewis is a heavy-built man and it was more
difficult for him to keep up the hot pace up-
hill. I hurried on and got quite close to them.
Simon spoke to his boy, who turned around
and gave a little jump of astonishment to see
me so close. He spoke sharply to his father,
who turned around. Just as he turned around
I purposely pulled my revolver from the hol-
ster with a great flourish.
To these native Indians our revolvers are
wonderful and fearful things. They regard
them with awe and also with fear. That so
small a thing held lightly in the hand could
deal death is one of the most amazing things
they know about. When Simon saw this he
[77]
UP THE MAZARUNI
at once slackened his pace and gave me an-
other bland smile.
"Me-a-ree. Me-a-ree!" he said.
"Me-a-ree," I replied, but kept my revolver
in my hand. After that he slowed up and
made no attempt to lose us, but he kept look-
ing back frequently and earnestly to make
sure that I was not pointing the deadly ^'mys-
tery gun" at him.
We passed many small platforms lashed to
tall trees. I thought they were the "graves''
of Indians, as I knew that many of our Ameri-
can Indians had the custom of leaving their
dead on high platforms. But the Boviander
explained that they were hunting stations.
The Indians climb up and kneel on these
platforms motionless for hours, waiting for
game to pass so that they can kill it with
blowpipes, spears, bows and arrows or with
their crude guns.
It was getting late and I had just begun to
wonder if we would have to camp in that dis-
mal swamp all night when I heard the sound
of a horn. It was some Indian call made by
blowing on a shell. Simon nodded, meaning
that it was the village.
[78]
FOR DIAMONDS
Soon we came into a great clearing. I ex-
pected to see a thriving village, since I had
been assured that Assura was the largest of
the Indian villages. And it was the largest,
yet it consisted of only seven houses, with
A-shaped roofs of reeds, and one larger or
communal house with a conical roof.
Three of the mangiest, sorriest looking dogs
I had ever beheld, howled mournfully when
we came into the clearing, then tucked their
tails between their legs and ran away to hide,
having performed their duty of warning the
villagers of our approach.
I was greatly interested, for the villagers
did not know that we were coming and I was
sure to find them in their primitive life with-
out "putting on" for company. They flocked
about us, more curious than we, for we had
seen Indians and knew something about their
customs by this time, but few of them had
seen any white men except the Dutch and
half-breed Dutch "pork-knockers," or wan-
dering diamond miners.
As usual, they wore no clothes except the
red loin cloth of the men and the queyu, or
tiny apron of the women. But every gar-
[79]
UP THE MAZARUNI
merit that we wore was a curiosity to them.
I am sure that had we marched in there,
wearing no more than a loin cloth, they would
not have been greatly interested. But hats,
coats, vests, trousers, leggings, shoes — all of
those garments were wonderful curiosities to
them all, as you may well imagine.
There was an all-around exchange of "Me-
a-rees" and we passed around some ciga-
rettes, whereupon they knew that we were
friends.
How they crowded about us, children with
no clothes at all, and tiny babies that could
not walk crawled along over the filthy
ground, through spots of black mud and shal-
low pools of stagnant water, picking up the
dirt and animal refuse from the ground and
apparently feasting on it. It made us shud-
der to see them, yet those tiny babies seemed
quite contented and quite healthy. At once I
wondered what an American mother who
dresses her baby in costly flannels and em-
broidered linens, places it in a hundred dol-
lar baby carriage and wraps it in another
hundred dollar fur robe, would say if her
pink little darling were to be stripped and
[80]
FOR DIAMONDS
left to crawl about through the muck of
this jungle clearing to get chummy with chig-
gers and stinging red ants, big ugly black
beetles, mosquitoes and other things!
[8i]
CHAPTER XV
HOSPITALITY OF THE JUNGLE FOLK
IN pidgin English we made the men
understand that we wanted six of them
to go up the river with us, some to help
us hunt, some to build a ^'logie'^ for Lewis
and myself.
They agreed to go, but when we suggested
that we start right away, they declined. We
must wait another day. They could not set
out without a supply of cassava, which is to
them what our bread is to us, the staff of life.
And they declared it too late to venture into
the jungle, so we had to arrange to stay with
them over night.
This interested me, as the night trip was
not to my liking and I wanted to see Indian
life at close range. Among the Indians was
one called ^'Abraham," who had been with
Lewis on his previous trip. He was an honest
chap, faithful and a hard worker and fond of
Lewis because of his name. It seems that on
[82]
UP THE MAZARUNI
his prospecting trip Lewis liked this chap and
asked him his name. Alas, he had none. In-
dians are given names by their medicine men,
called ^Teiman," or by the chief of the col-
ony, at birth, providing their parents can pay
enough in Indian trade goods. When Abra-
ham was born his parents had nothing to give,
so he went without a name. This is consid-
ered a calamity among the Indians, as a
nameless one is quite liable, so they believe,
to meet up with all of the misfortunes pos-
sible to befall a human being. Lewis liked
him so well that he at once assumed the role
of a "Peiman'^ and solemnly bestowed upon
him the name of "Abraham." For this Abra-
ham would do anything for Lewis.
There was another Indian who interested
us. He had but one eye, but was almost a
giant in build. He always had a jolly grin
and as we liked him and found him to be
nameless, I gravely assured him that I could
bestow names. He begged me to do so.
"Gi' me call by," he said.
"You shall henceforth be called by
^Lewis,' " I said, with a dramatic gesture,
winking at Lewis, who grinned at the joke.
[83]
UP THE MAZARUNI
Soon I had taught him just how to speak
the word "Lewis" and he was a very proud
Indian.
Each "house" consisted of only a reed and
palm-leaf roof supported on poles, there be-
ing no sides to any of them. The supply of
household goods was pitifully small indeed.
There were plenty of weapons, a few cassava-
making implements, a rare metal dish or tin
can and hammocks everywhere. The Indian
women sit in these hammocks doing their
weaving or bead work by day and all sleep in
them by night. There was a fire at each
hut, made of logs which were arranged like
the spokes of a wheel, the inner ends, or
"hub" being the fire. As the ends would
burn away the logs would be pushed in
toward the center and new ones added as the
old ones burned up. These fires supplied
plenty of heat for cooking and enough
warmth for the night chill and they were
never allowed to go out. In some places a
village is not moved for a year or two, de-
pending upon whether there is a death there,
and a fire once started burns steadily on that
spot all of the time.
[84]
THEY SEEMED GLAD TO POSE
FOR US
JUNGLE HUNTSMEN
FOR DIAMONDS
We were tired and wet. We needed food
and rest and told Abraham this, whereupon
he promptly gave up his house to Lewis and
myself and took his wife and flock of children
over to the communal house with the conical
roof.
We livened up the fire and decided to re-
move our wet clothes and dry them. We had
just about as much privacy as a goldfish, and
the villagers flocked about us in great excite-
m.ent as we proceeded to strip off our outer
garments.
We stripped down to our flannel under-
wear and decided to sit about our roaring
fire and get dry while our clothes dried. But
the natives eagerly asked the privilege of
taking our clothes and drying them for us.
There seemed no way out of it and I won-
dered if I was going to be left to travel
through the jimgle in nothing but underwear.
But I should not have feared. They were
honest enough. They merely wished to bor-
row our clothes to strut about in for a while.
One big chap had my hat cocked on his head
at the "tough guy" angle as if he had worn
one all his life. Two giggling young women
[85]
UP THE MAZARUNI
divided my big boots, each wearing one, and
marched proudly about, the thong ties drag-
ging. An old man put on my coat. But
the trousers were too wet, so they escaped.
Next morning they were returned, well dried
and nothing whatever missing from the
pockets.
I sat in a hammock, slung close to the fire,
drying my wet socks and the legs of my un-
derclothes, watching the women prepare a
meal of eggs, venison, labbas and cassiri
for us, and grinned at the picture we must
have made.
^'Not quite up to the etiquette of polite
society at home," I said to Lewis.
"But we are overdressed, even now," he
answered, "according to the style down here."
The houses are called "benabs." Abra-
ham said he would bring the food over to our
benab. This he did. It was smoking hot,
heaped up in one big wooden dish, and with
it a calabash, or gourd, of cassiri. This was
a bright pink liquid, most sickening in ap-
pearance. The Indians all drank out of the
same big gourd and seemed to enjoy it.
Lewis took a taste.
[86]
FOR DIAMONDS
"Great," he said.
I didn't like his expression when he said
it, but was determined to try anything once,
so I tasted it.
"U-r-r-r-gh!"
Dud. Lewis had his back to me. I could
see that he was shaking with laughter.
"For two cents I'd pour this pink slop
down your neck! " I gasped.
The Indians looked on and grinned. I did
not wish to be impolite, so I said, "Yaa! Cas-
siri too much humbug Yankee man's stom-
ach!" and I hugged my stomach as if in pain
and smiled to assure them of good feeling.
They merely laughed.
This drink tasted like sour milk, long over-
ripe strawberries, vinegar, pepper, sour yeast,
cassava meal and whatever else they might
have had left over to dump into it. But the
venison was delicious and the labba, which is
a sort of pig about the size of a rabbit, was as
good meat as I ever tasted. The cassava is
not bad at all and so we managed to make
out a very good meal. But if I had taken a
big swallow of that pink cassiri I am sure my
stomach would have burned up or exploded.
[87]
UP THE MAZARUNI
It came time for us to get some sleep if
ever we were to turn in. While we were
fairly dry, there was a dampness in the air
and we had only our underclothes. But the
headman of the village brought out three
strips of cotton cloth he had been hoarding
in an old canister, another loaned a frayed
old shirt he had got in some trade, another
contributed a pair of red cotton trousers. My
shirt and tunic were dry and with these, di-
vided between Lewis and me, we turned in
to our hammocks. We tried a fire of glowing
coals under our hammocks as did some of
the Indians, but the smoke was too much for
us and we had to move the fire. Besides, I
didn't want to have any more snake dreams
and fall out in a bed of hot coals.
I lay there listening to the jungle noises
and trying to guess what sort of beast, bird or
reptile was making them, when it came time
for the Indians to turn in. Just as the vil-
lage became quiet and the babies stopped
squalling and the kids stopped chattering,
there came a native song.
"This is a great time to start singing!" I
grumbled to Lewis.
[88]
FOR DIAMONDS
"Go to sleep and don't mind it," he advised.
"I can't sleep until he stops that fool song,"
I insisted.
"Ha-ha," laughed Lewis, "you've got some
fine little wait coming." He covered him-
self in his hammock and proceeded to sleep.
I didn't understand what he meant at the
time, but I learned, for I waited and waited
for the singer to stop. But when he got tired,
another singer took it up and then another
and another.
They keep that song going all night every
night of their lives.
There was nothing for me to do but to re-
main in my hammock and listen to that ter-
rible singing. The voices were not so bad,
nor were they harsh, but there didn't seem
to be much melody in what they sang and
after you have heard the same gibberish sung
over and over and over for about a million
times (so it seemed to me) you certainly get
good and tired of it.
It was no effort on my part to learn the
song. I got so that I knew just what the next
line would be and I found myself muttering
[89]
UP THE MAZARUNI
it along with whichever Indian happened to
be taking his ''spell" at singing it.
^'What does it mean?" I asked many. But
the best answer I could get was that it was
a "sort of song to keep danger away at
night."
It also kept sleep away from me for sev-
eral hours, although I finally did get to sleep
in spite of it and did not awaken until day-
light had come and the singing had ceased. I
always wished that I could get a translation
of the song, but I will repeat it as it sounded :
"/^ phoo ke nay pagee ko, ip phoo ke na;
Waku beku yean gee ma ta ne ke, ip phoo
ke na pegge ko.
Ip phoo ke na, ip phoo ke na pagee ko,
Ip phoo ke na, ip phoo ke na pagge ko,
Ip phoo ke na, ip phoo ke naJ'
These Indians seemed the most restless
people on earth. Before I fell asleep I
watched them in the big communal hut which
was within twenty feet of me. I learned
afterwards that when going on a long trip
they sit up most of the night and stuff them-
selves with food. They seemed to be eating
all night here, and drinking that pink cassiri.
[90]
FOR DIAMONDS
They would wander about inside their shelter,
sit in a hammock eating, walk over to the cal-
abash and drink the cassiri and back to the
hammock again.
''If that's the life of a British Guiana In-
dian, then I'm glad that I am not one of them.
None of this free and untrammeled child-of-
nature life for me," I told Lewis afterward.
''Wonder what they would say if they saw
so many of our people back home sitting up
until nearly daylight having banquets, danc-
ing the fox-trot and one-step and hesitation
and opening wine and smoking and having a
regular night of it," was his quiet comment.
It was good food for thought. The more
I figured it out, the more I wondered just
where the line between "civilization" and
"barbarity" was drawn. I am sure that they
did not injure their health as much with their
cassava cakes and fruits, eaten during the
night, as so many of our so-called "sports" do
with their all night dancing and drinking and
smoking and eating of lobster a la king and
other fancy and expensive foods.
Some of them were drinking a black liquid
from a gourd. This was "piwarree."
[91]
UP THE MAZARUNI
^'Don't drink it," warned Lewis.
"Thanks for the tip, old man," I answered,
"but there aren't enough diamonds in South
America to get me to touch it."
It was the most vile looking liquid I ever
saw, yet the Indians seemed to enjoy it and
it did not appear to intoxicate them, although
there was probably alcohol in it, as it was
made by a fermenting process. I had seen
a number of women who wore a peculiar tat-
too mark on their foreheads. I had thought
it merely some sort of barbaric adornment,
but it seems this was their "trade mark." It
indicated that they were piwarree makers.
These women, to make this drink, sit in a
circle about a fire where cassava cakes are al-
lowed to bake until they are burned through
quite crisp and black. Each woman chews
this burned bread until it is soft and pulpy
with her saliva. This she strains through her
teeth into a vessel in the center. When the
vessel is full the contents are thrown into a
large wooden trough and boiling water poured
over it. It is allowed to ferment. When
quite sour and black it is ready for drinking.
[92]
CHAPTER XVI
CASSAVA CAKES AND BLOW -PIPES
IN the morning I expected to start out, but
learned that the cassava cakes must be
made. The women had started the pro-
cess the night before. But after that I fre-
quently saw it made and the process is inter-
esting.
Cassava is a root, something like a large
turnip, yet longer and more in the shape of
an immense sweet potato. The inside is quite
white and somewhat soft, a trifle "woody,"
like a turnip that we would throw away.
These roots grow wild. There is no culti-
vating necessary, although in some localities
they cut away the other vegetation and allow
the cassava plants to thrive a little better.
A grater is made by driving sharp bits of
flint into a board. This is covered with a
sort of wax which hardens and leaves only the
sharp tips of the flints sticking out. The
[93]
UP THE MAZARUNI
women peel the cassava roots with dull knives
or sharp flints. The root is then grated over
this flint grater and the fine particles fall
down into a woven frame.
Next comes the "metapee." This is a most
peculiar basket, made solely for the manufac-
ture of cassava flour. It may be pulled out
long or pushed in short. It works something
like an old-fashioned ^'accordion" hat rack.
When pushed down short it is very large
around but as it is pulled out it grows smaller
and smaller in circumference. It is a great
trick to weave these metapee baskets, for
they must be exceedingly strong.
The grated cassava is put in the metapee
when it is squat down short and large around.
One end of this basket is hung from a pole or
limb. In the bottom of the metapee is a loop
through which a pole is run. One end of the
pole is lashed to the ground, at the foot of a
tree. The woman now sits on the other end
of the pole. This makes a lever and her
weight stretches the metapee out into a long
wicker cylinder. This squeezes all of the
moisture out of the ground cassava root. And
here is a most remarkable thing — that juice
[94]
AT FOURTEEN AN INDIAN GIRL
MUST BE ABLE TO COOK CASSAVA
& ■*'~
-iit-
3» <» ^f>i-;
A PRIMITI\^E SUGAR CANE PRESS
FOR DIAMONDS
is a deadly poison! Yet the pulp that re-
mains makes a nourishing bread.
The woman bounces up and down on her
end of the pole until every bit of the juice is
out. This juice is saved, as the poison can
be used by the men. Or the juice may be
allowed to evaporate and what remains of
that, instead of being poison, is good season-
ing for food !
The pulp is spread in the sun to dry. When
dry it is sifted through a basket sieve and
becomes rather coarse flour. To this water is
added, the dough is kneaded with the fists
much as our women knead wheat flour and
water into dough. This dough is flattened
out into cakes three feet in diameter and half
an inch thick and baked on a flat slab, a sheet
of iron if it be possible to get it, or on any-
thing handy. The bread is now ready to eat.
It is firm, fairly hard, rather crisp and has but
little flavor. To me it tasted like refined
sawdust. But it is extremely nourishing.
It takes half an hour to cook these cassava
cakes and, kept dry, they will last a great
while. That is why the women baked a num-
ber of them to take with them upon the im-
[95]
UP THE MAZARUNI
pending journey. It was comforting to have
this much certain about the uncertain jour-
ney which we were now to take.
While the Indian women busied themselves
making cassava cakes for the journey back to
our camp I studied all of the weapons of the
men in the village, for they interested me.
There were but two guns in the village,
owned by the chief and another very
"wealthy" native. These were the muzzle-
loading ^'lead'^ guns.
What interested me most of all was the
blowpipe. It is really a wonderful weapon.
It is a wonder to me that we boys back home
did not make similar weapons. I am sure
that with a little skill we could have picked
off rabbits, squirrels and game birds, al-
though, of course, we would have had to be-
come good woodsmen. Of all the weapons to
be faced, I believe the blowpipe as made and
used by these Indians is the most deadly. I
would rather face almost anything else.
These pipes are from eight to twelve feet
long. They are made of two strong reeds,
a hollow-stemmed variety that grows in the
jungle. They take the midribs of a great
[96]
FOR DIAMONDS
palm leaf, dry them, split them up, char one
end in the fire to make it hard, and with this
force out the little partitions that appear at
the joints in all reeds, as in bamboo. Then a
smaller reed is found that will just slide inside
the larger one. They now have a double reed
which makes an extremely long yet strong
tube. The hole is made through the inner
reed in the same manner, and these palm mid-
ribs and fine sand are worked inside the inner
tube until it is quite as smooth as a rifle bore.
The arrows are made from the same palm
midribs, split as fine as an eighth of an inch
in thickness. While at work mining I hired
an Indian boy to make a collection of bird
skins for me. These boys can skin a bird
perfectly and prepare the skin so that it will
be like soft, thin kid, without misplacing a
feather. I watched this boy make blowpipes
and arrows. He dried the palm midribs in
the sun a few days and they split readily into
as fine arrows as he needed.
Just how he made the deadly poison with
which he tipped them I was not certain. I
will admit that we kept clear of that poison
just as you would keep clear of dynamite.
[97]
UP THE MAZARUNI
I know that it was made from crushed leaves
and roots and put in a gourd. This poison is
called "waurali.'' As soon as the poison is
dried on, in the sun, a string is woven in and
out around each end of each arrow until
there is a long row of them, and this is rolled
around a stick so that there is a solid roll of
these arrows, which may be pulled out one by
one.
The quiver is made of woven grass, the
bottom made of some wax that hardens from
trees. This roll of arrows is placed, poison
tips up, in the quiver and a skin top put over
them to keep out moisture. Attached to the
quiver is a small basket containing loose cot-
ton.
When the boy was ready to shoot a bird
he would remove one of the arrows, pinch
off a bit of cotton from the basket and wrap
it loosely around the blunt end. Thrusting
the arrow into the tube this cotton made it
fit just enough to take the compression of air.
Sighting the bird, the boy placed the blow-
pipe to his lips, aimed at the bird and gave a
sudden sharp puff.
The speed of that slender arrow was mar-
[98]
FOR DIAMONDS
velous. Seldom did the boy miss. If the
bird was merely scratched, it would fly but a
short distance before the deadly poison would
get in its work and then it would come flut-
tering to the ground, quite dead by the time
the boy, running after it, would pick it up.
Sometimes the great tapirs, as large as a
hog, would be killed by these slender arrows.
Their bows and arrows interested me. Their
bows are longer than most of those used by
the American Indians, being six feet or more.
And these men are generally smaller than the
American Indians. They have many kinds
of arrows for the various game, and they also
use a sort of harpoon, a large barbed spear-
head on the arrow with a long stout woven
cord fastened to it. This is for shooting
fish.
One day an Indian took the fruit of a star
apple tree, wove a loose covering for it, hung
it in a pool of water at the shore of the river
from a limb overhead and waited. I saw a
great fish dart for this bait and at the same
time "Zowie!'^ went this harpoon arrow.
There was a great thrashing about in the
water, but the Indian calmly hauled in his
[99]
UP THE MAZARUNI
harpoon and there was a big pacu on it, a
very tasty fish when properly cooked. They
also use hand spears with a half dozen barbed
points branching out and get many fish in
that manner.
[ 100 ]
CHAPTER XVII
ON THE MARCH AGAIN
BY the time I had watched the cassava
cake making process and examined
the weapons in the village and noted
almost everything of how they lived, the In-
dians were ready to go on with us. They
had been eating all night as I explained. Now
they took a hasty farewell drink of that pink
stuff, cassiri, and took a large mouthful of
cassava cake; their baskets were already
packed for travel, and so we started.
But did they carry their baskets?
No indeed! That would have been a dis-
grace, like a man washing dishes or making a
dress for baby. Carrying the luggage was
woman's work. What did each man have a
wife for if not to do his work? The men set
off with only their weapons, and the women
fastened the heavy baskets to their backs by
means of vine ropes around their foreheads.
[lOl]
UP THE MAZARUNI
Each man carried various objects in his bas-
ket, some tools, hunks of smoked meat, some
extra loin cloths with perhaps a ragged old
shirt secured from some "pork knocker." On
top of these belongings was placed a stack of
the cassava cakes and covered with palm
leaves to keep out the rain, for it showed signs
of raining when we set out.
The Indians went on ahead. The women
followed. They had removed whatever gar-
ments they owned — some of them had loose
garments, merely for style, made of strips of
cotton — and traveled only with those little
beaded aprons or queyus. We came last, but
after a while the women stepped out of the
path and let us go on ahead. I think they
wanted to watch us, just as we would like to
stay behind and watch something curious
walking on ahead.
We thought we had a hard trip getting to
the village, but we were in for the hardest
traveling afoot that I ever knew. I called it
"land swimming.'' The mud was literally
knee deep. We would put one foot down,
then the next one, stand still and pull one foot
out with a great effort, step ahead with that,
[ 102 ]
FOR DIAMONDS
pull the other out with a great sucking sound,
and so on. It was only with great endurance
that we made this trip through the rain, but
even the worst journey must come to an end
and finally we reached our own camp. Noth-
ing ever looked more homelike than our shel-
ters, our fires and the boats moored alongside.
Lewis and I made a dash for the boat to
get some dry warm clothes. Jimmy, glad to
see us back, made some hot tea. Soon we had
on lighter shoes, dry woolen underclothes and
dry suits and socks, lay back in our hammocks
and drank good hot tea and felt none the
worse for our journey into the primitive
homes of the Indians.
We gave the women plenty to eat and
made them presents of sugar, rice, salt and
tea to take back with them. They were the
happiest women you ever saw and chattered
among themselves like kids at a Christmas
tree. Then they turned and went back into
the forests without a word of leave taking to
their husbands, as this toting of their hus-
bands' baskets was all in their day's work.
Of all the sticky, funny messes I ever saw
it was the packs of these Indians. The rain
[ 103 ]
UP THE MAZARUNI
had soaked through the palm leaves on top
and through the meshes of the baskets at the
sides. The cassava cakes had dissolved into
a soft, semi-liquid dough. This had run down
through the contents of the baskets. Nearly
every one contained bits of red cloth — an
Indian's choice possession. The colors had
run and there were pink dough and dough-
covered arrows and pink smoked meat and
sticky, cassava dough enameled shirts. It
was a great mess, but the Indians scraped the
dough together to dry out in the sun the
next day and worried not at all, for the cas-
sava dough would all dry and be rubbed off
their belongings.
While the Indians like the white men, they
do not like the blacks. They get along with
them all right because they have nothing
whatever to do with the "Me-go-ro-man" as
they call them. Our blacks, as usual, had
their three shelters a distance from ours. The
Indians built a hasty shelter alongside our
canvas one, slung their hammocks, now
daubed with dough, and climbed in. Jimmy
started the victrola, the camp fires burned
brightly despite the rain, and the Indians sat
[ 104]
MY JUNGLE FRIENDS
FOR DIAMONDS
up and stared open-eyed, at the ''hoodoo" box
from which came the, to them, weird sounds.
They believed that the spirits of the dead
were inside that victrola, but when they saw
Jimmy putting on the records and saw that
no ghosts came out to kill them, they lost
their fear of it.
The plaintive Southern melodies seemed
to please them most. Next in their favor was
a weird jazz number. From the wet jungle
came the peculiar roar of red baboons. We
would have fresh baboon steak next day, if
we could spare an hour for hunting.
And then from the black, dismal depths of
that dripping jungle came the most pitiful
sobbing that I ever heard. Whether a child
or a woman, or a number of them, I could not
make out. I leaped from my hammock, won-
dering what was happening to them, if they
were lost, and trying to guess how far into
the jimgle we would have to travel to rescue
them.
Never had I heard such distress as that
weeping and wailing and heartbreaking
sobbing.
I pictured some helpless women there, per-
[105]
UP THE MAZARUNI
haps being attacked by wild animals. Even
if they were Indian women, still they were
humans, I thought —
"Black night monkey," said Jimmy.
I looked at Lewis. He smiled and nodded.
For a moment I could scarcely believe that
such human crying could come from animals.
"They always cry all night," Lewis told
me. "Very annoying at first. You'll get used
to it. Just remember that they are ugly black
monkeys, that they like to make that noise,
that they are not really crying any more than
a dog is crying when he barks, and now go
to sleep."
No one else seemed to mind it. But I
must admit that it kept me awake a long
while. I couldn't force myself to think that
it was a natural noise made by an animal. I
couldn't believe anything could make such a
noise unless it was actual crying caused by
grief or suffering. Finally I fell asleep.
[io6]
CHAPTER XVIII
ARRIVAL AT THE DIAMOND FIELDS
NEXT morning the sun was shining
brightly. The Indians were coming
in from a hunting trip with game.
Our blacks had finished their tea and
crackers, the shelters were coming down and
soon we would be on the way up the river.
"We ought to make the big bend by to-
morrow/' said Captain Peters.
Those were thrilling words to me, for up
just around the big bend in the Mazaruni
River, which I have already described, lay
our diamond fields, and while every inch of
the seventeen days' boat trip up this mad,
wild river, among the primitive Indians, had
been one of interest and adventure for me,
after all, I was out for diamonds and natur-
ally eager to get to the fields and try my luck
at digging up the sparklers. Of course I did
not expect to pick them up off the ground.
[ 107]
UP THE MAZARUNI
"Dud" Lewis had told me of the process and
I had read up on diamond mining before
starting, yet I had high hopes of finding
wealth there in the gravel of the old river bed.
Mountains could be seen in the distance ris-
ing like temples above the low land.
Nothing startling occurred that day. I be-
lieve I saw more birds than usual, and the
banks became less marshy. The jungle
seemed to be slightly changing into a trifle
higher and drier forest land. It was still
thick, almost impenetrable, yet a bit different.
On the seventeenth day we came to a
small portage. We could not paddle over it,
yet it was not necessary to remove all of our
five tons of supplies. Lightening our cargo
about one half, the men jumped out, fastened
the ropes astern and the single rope to the
bow for the last time on our upriver trip and
hauled away with a will.
Soon we were over, goods repacked and the
blacks paddling in still, smooth water, but
more vigorously than usual as they, too, were
glad to be at the end of their hard journey.
Seventeen days of paddling a fifty-foot boat
made of great planks and laden with five tons
[io8]
FOR DIAMONDS
of goods, hauling it over portages, is not
exactly a picnic, and the men certainly earned
their forty-eight cents a day. And so they
thumped and scraped their much-worn pad-
dles along the gunwales of that old boat, worn
smooth with constant paddling, and they
sang their everlasting paddle song with more
cheerfulness than they had done for days.
Finally Captain Peter spoke something to
the bowman while he swung his steering pad-
dle over, and our craft put in shore. We
nosed about and found just the site we
needed, and proceeded to unload everything,
this time to set up our mining camp.
A temporary shelter went up to store the
goods under, with low hanging eaves to keep
out the rain. We had now got into a country
where there were no more haphazard rains.
We could almost set our watches by the rains,
which came regularly every morning about
daybreak, for a half hour or more, and again
every night right after sunset, for a little
while. Although these twice-a-day rains
were of short duration the water certainly
came down in bucketfuls while it was raining.
A rack of poles kept our goods from the
[ 109]
UP THE MAZARUNI
ground so that the rain could run underneath.
Our shelters went up for that night, and
eagerly I began to study the gravel formation,
really not expecting to see any diamonds, but
anxious to study the soil and somehow all the
time wondering if, by chance, I might not see
a diamond in the dirt. Every sparkling bit
of rock I picked up. Lewis laughed good-
naturedly at this, but he was quite as eager as
I to get at the business for which we had
the long, tiresome and really costly trip.
We had journeyed 300 miles up the river.
At this point the Mazaruni had once flowed
over the dry land where our camp was lo-
cated. Some convulsion of nature, probably
of volcanic origin, had changed the course of
the river, and it was in this dry and ancient
river bed that we hoped to find a fortune.
For tools we had brought along only the
simplest kind, good old picks and shovels,
and a hand pump. We had plenty of mater-
ial with us for making the inining apparatus,
crude but necessary, but there was a great
deal to be done and we decided to get well
settled and start in right.
First we had to have a permanent home, a
[no]
FOR DIAMONDS
''logie," which is much Hke a bungalow, only
more open and quite high and dry. Then we
had to make good shelters for our three
groups of blacks, and also for what Indians
we would find it necessary to hire.
We also had to set up our mine, arrange
with Indians to hunt a steady supply of food,
make a permanent cooking place and get as
comfortable as possible so that we could go
ahead with our diamond mining without in-
terruption.
Two beautiful white egrets sailed up the
river and, without fear of us at all, proceeded
to make a nesting place close to our camp
site. I considered this to be a good omen.
The wonderful crest feathers on their heads
would have brought several hundred dollars
in the days before wise lawmakers at home
forbade bringing such feathers into the
country.
''How about tigers?" I asked of Captain
Peter.
There had been frequent talk of them. It
is true that there is a species of large and
ferocious jaguar that haunts the wilds of
British Guiana and I hoped to bag at least
[III]
UP THE MAZARUNI
one and take the skin home as a trophy. Cap-
tain Peter smiled.
"As scarce as hens' teeth," he said.
I wondered where he got that expression.
Perhaps they use it all over the world. I
know that we use it at home in all parts of
the country, yet it surprised me to hear this
Dutchman, who for twenty years had navi-
gated the wild waters of the old Mazaruni,
say it.
It was a disappointment to hear him de-
clare that tigers were scarce. I had visions
of stalking one and proudly bringing his car-
cass into camp.
I got a tiger skin all right before I left the
country, but there is no glamor of adventure
about it. I cannot exhibit it at home and spin
yarns of stalking the ferocious jungle beast,
for it was an old skin and I bought it from
an Indian for five dollars' worth of trade
articles.
The Indians get a tiger now and then, but
will not journey far afield just to bag them
as they are not fit to eat and are extremely
dangerous beasts to face, even for the skilled
natives.
[II2]
CHAPTER XIX
HOW THE NATIVES HUNT AND FISH
FOR four long, busy months, we were to
delve into that pebbly soil, and during
that time I would also learn much of
hunting and fishing that was strange indeed.
I was especially interested in the manner in
which the Indians get fish by poisoning them.
Of course that seems very unsportsmanlike to
us at home, but remember that these natives
do not hunt and fish for the sport of it, but to
live. And then, bear in mind that while we
have telescope steel rods and artificial bait
and ball bearing automatic reels and oiled silk
lines and transparent gut leaders, floats,
spoons, spinners, rubber minnows, hundreds
of artificial flies, nets for landing the fish,
gaffs, and every sort of fishing tackle, these
Indians have not even common hooks and
sinkers. Spears and harpoon arrows are their
only means of fishing, aside from poison. Con-
sequently one should not say that they were
[113]
UP THE MAZARUNI
unsportsmanlike, although I felt that way
about it at first. Thinking it over I decided
differently.
They have several means of catching fish
by poison and I must say that it is a far bet-
ter way than that of some of the game hogs
in this country who dynamite lakes and rivers
for fish, killing far more than they can get,
while with the poison the fish not taken soon
recover and are as lively as ever.
Our Indians paddled into a small inlet of
the river one day where there is quite a deep
pool that back-waters in. Hauling the canoe
out on land they proceeded to fill it with hai-
arry vines and water. With heavy sticks they
crushed these vines. As I looked on with in-
terest, one Indian pointed to the liquid and
said, "Kill um," meaning that it was poison.
After the vines were well crushed they
tipped the contents of the canoe into the pool
and within five minutes a great quantity of
fish arose and floated on the surface. They
collected the largest and best of these for food
and as soon as the poison in the pool had
thinned out the other fish recovered and were
as well as ever. I was afraid that the poison
["4]
FOR DIAMONDS
would render the fish unfit for food but found
that it did not affect them at all in that man-
ner. It certainly was an easy way to catch
fish and for a party as large as ours, the
twenty blacks and the group of Indian
hunters, it took a lot of fish and game to
feed us.
Probably the most interesting method of
catching fish as practiced by these clever In-
dians was by means of poisoned grasshoppers.
They made a paste of the leaves of the quan-
amia, a strong narcotic plant. Catching large
grasshoppers they filled the stomachs of these
insects with the paste and tossed them into
the water. The fish would leap up and swal-
low the grasshoppers, only soon after to turn,
belly up, and float on the surface where they
were picked up.
Here we found the game more abundant
than ever, which was natural as we were far
out of the haunts of blacks and Dutch, except
for the few '^pork knockers," or tramp dia-
mond miners, and there were probably no
more than a score all up and down the fields.
Several kinds of animals were shot, but the
favorite food was deer and labbas. The tap-
[115]
UP THE MAZARUNI
irs are like great hogs and their meat is rather
tough though nourishing. The labbas also
belong to the hog family but are about as big
as jack rabbits. Small game birds were also
plentiful. The maams were the best game
birds, about the size of a very small turkey
and much like them. The white people call
them bush turkeys but scientists say that they
do not properly belong to the turkey family.
We didn't care what family they belonged to,
we found the tneat delicious.
I do not mean that the game was so plen-
tiful that it came down to us and begged to
be shot. But our Indian hunters seldom went
out without bringing back some meat. It was
a cheerful sight to see three or four hunters
come marching in, each with a part of a great
tapir or deer slung over his back. We were
sure of "fresh pork," as we called it, for days.
One of our Indians had hunted steadily for
three days without any success and he was
getting decidedly sore about it. He had not
seen an animal in any of his wanderings.
When he returned empty handed on the third
day I tried to cheer him.
"How come, buck man?"
[ii6]
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FOR DIAMONDS
^^No thing," he grunted.
*'Too much sit down," I said.
*^No sit down!" he protested. "Wakwak-
wak (walk), all tarn wak. Me no see. How
can shoot um me no see?"
There was no argument there. If he saw
nothing he certainly could bag no game. But
this Indian was superstitious, as all are. He
got an idea that there was black magic in my
camera, and it bothered him.
"Too much humbug," he said, pointing to
my camera which I happened to have with
me. "You tak picture all tam, put um picture
on paper and sho all mans. Deer know this
and be bexed (vexed) see um picture on pa-
per. Run away. How go for catch if no
see?"
This was a lengthy outburst for an In-
dian. He had reference to my taking his pic-
ture as he came into camp with various kinds
of game over his shoulders. He believed that
the dead game knew its picture was taken
and that its spirit warned the living game to
keep away because the picture taking was an
insult. He did not reason that the game
would be warned to keep away from him to
[117]
UP THE MAZARUNI
save its life, but only to escape the insult of
having its picture taken. Hence his argument
that the game was "bexed" and kept out of
sight.
''No get um. Must catch beena," he said,
earnestly. A "beena" is some sort of a rite
or charm that the hunters go through in order
to give them good fortune or luck or whatever
it is they most desire. There is a different
sort of beena for each thing. I gave him a
half day holiday to "catch beena." Being
especially anxious to bag deer he was going to
"catch deer beena." The sly fellow had hid-
den away somewhere, just for this emergency,
the nose of a deer.
Beena may bring good luck but I would
not care for good luck earned in that manner.
This chap heated the nose of the deer on a
shovel over coals until it fairly sizzled. Then
he cut slashes, not deep, but enough to draw
blood, on his chest, arms and legs and rubbed
that hot, greasy nose into the cuts. He be-
lieved that the fat thus entering his body or
blood would enable him to get all the deer he
wished, as it would give him power over them.
That afternoon he went out, and, sure
[ii8]
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FOR DIAMONDS
enough, he returned with a big deer. I did
not dare photograph it for fear the Indian
would become frightened or discouraged, and
leave. No power on earth could persuade
him that it was due to any other reason than
his beena that he got the deer.
As I explained, I took many pictures but
lost the greater part of them through at-
tempting to develop the films in the hot cli-
mate. Birds of unusual variety, to me, were
photographed in plenty. The toucans were
interesting birds. They would come quite
close to us, and I managed to get a snapshot
of one not more than ten feet away, just as
he was apparently sharpening his gigantic
beak on the shore gravel.
I found the Indians to be not only interest-
ing but very likable chaps. I formed a strong
friendship and they likewise became very
friendly with me. I learned much of their
language, had them at our logie for guests on
a great many occasions and, after a manner,
got so that I could talk well with them and
learn much of their lives, their ambitions,
their joys and sorrows. Their language is
called "Akowoia.'^
[119]
UP THE MAZARUNI
The taste of the Indians in food I could
never learn, such as their terrible drinks, the
smoked intestines and the eyes of animals
which they cook as a great delicacy. Nor am
I at all fond of their pastry. It is simply a
dough made of flour, salt and soda mixed
with river water and fried in much grease in
a frying pan. But their cooked fresh fish,
their boiled tapir and other game meats are
always good, clean and appetizing.
[ 120]
CHAPTER XX
PICKING UP JUNGLE LORE
THE upper part of the Mazaruni
River is no place for a white man
to take up a permanent abode.
Only once in a great while has a white man
been known to live more than a year in
that climate. I have heard of one or two
who lived there for several years, but they
finally died. It is a strange thing the
lure of fortune. Such men know full well that
no white man can escape death if he stays
there for much more than six months. Yet
each individual seems to feel that he will
manage in some way to escape the dread and
deadly jungle fever. He is having good luck
getting diamonds, he stays on and on for
^'just a few more, just a few more," so that he
may go back wealthy, and then comes the
fever and either death or a quick get-away. I
could not then foresee the danger that faced
[I2l]
UP THE MAZARUNI
me and was to bring a sudden end to my own
adventures in the wilds.
Most white men have to use quinine con-
tinually. Dud. Lewis took quantities of it
every day. He took so much that it made
him temporarily deaf. I was afraid to take
too much of it as I didn't care to become deaf
nor did I want the headaches that it fre-
quently caused. Of course I took some from
time to time, but in small quantities.
One great trouble was our lack of fresh
water. We had only the river water and it
was dangerous to drink that without purify-
ing it. The Indians and even the blacks
seemed to get along well enough on it and
would drink right out of the river.
We had ''steel drops" with us, a highly con-
centrated form of iron. One drop in a gallon
of water was sufficient to remove the danger
of disease from drinking the water. We also
used bits of rusty iron. By keeping these in
the water it was fairly safe, but it was al-
ways muddy. And it was always warm. I
learned to get used to it. We used to keep it
in jars and pails with a wet cloth over it in
order to cool it.
[ 122 ]
ABRAHAM, FELLING A WOODSKIN
T REE
FOR DIAMONDS
While there were a few poisonous snakes
about, they seemed no more plentiful than
are the rattlesnakes, copperheads and mocca-
sins in certain parts of the United States, and
we had no trouble with them. I never saw
any of the big boa constrictors or other
snakes, that I had been told about, but pre-
sume there were plenty of them in the deep
marshlands if one cared to hunt the reptiles.
Frequently I had seen Indians gliding
about the river in the most peculiar and frail
looking craft I had ever beheld.
^'Make um woodskin," the Indians told
me.
I examined one and it was nothing more
than the bark of a tree. Not at all like the
birch bark used by our Indians, nor like rough
elm bark, but more like the tough, smooth
bark of the basswood or ironwood trees at
home.
One time I was fortunate enough to see and
photograph the whole process of woodskin
canoe making. I went with the Indians back
somewhat from the water to where they had
located a giant woodskin tree. These trees
start at the base with mammoth trunks, which
[ 123 ]
UP THE MAZARUNI
taper up for fifteen feet or more before they
continue as a straight and rather symmetrical
trunk. The bark of the tapering part is use-
less in canoe making and so the Indians build
a frail platform or foot rest of poles that will
enable them to reach the straight, even part
of the trunk with an axe. Standing there
they soon have the tree felled. But before
it falls they build a supporting frame so that
it will not lie on the ground, because if this
heavy tree were resting its weight on the
ground it would be impossible to remove the
bark.
When the tree is down and resting on the
frames upon which it fell, the Indians arrange
poles that will enable them to stand and
reach one side. They cut the bark clear
around the tree at the length which they
wish for the canoe, then they slit the bark
in an even line between the two cuts and
gradually pry it off, putting in braces until it
is wedged open sufficiently to slip off the
trunk.
Two braces are then fitted into this, and it
is left to dry; as the drying takes place the
ends are drawn up a little. That is all there
[124]
PREPARING WOODSKIN BARK
FOR CANOE
FINISHED WOODSKIN CANOE
WITH END S OPEN
FOR DIAMONDS
is to it. The canoe is ready for ordinary
smooth water traveling, once it is dry, for in
the shrinking the braces are so wedged in
that they will never pull out. For smooth
water paddling the canoe is left with both
ends open. But for rough water, in currents
and rapids, it is necessary to stop up each end
with a sort of vegetable wax drawn from trees
much as we get pitch from pine. This wax
hardens and thus closes the ends.
There were many things to learn before we
were quite comfortable. We had learned how
to keep our food, how to have the Indians
hunt and cut wood for us, which was all the
work they did. For this they were paid the
equivalent of $io a month each, and clothing
and lodging. They wouldn't mine — at least
there are few Indians who will mine. They
would rather have an old red flannel shirt
than a peck of diamonds.
We learned about keeping iron in the
drinking water and we put tin grease cups
on all of the supporting poles of our logic, and
of all buildings and shelters, to keep out the
stinging ants and other insects.
These insects were decidedly troublesome
[I2S]
UP THE MAZARUNI
and we had to keep constant watch of our-
selves to prevent serious trouble with them.
There is an especially large mosquito which
not only stings fearfully but deposits larvae
beneath the skin. It is almost impossible to
notice this at the time but it soon becomes a
live worm in there, and then a great sore
creaks out, caused by the bug so that he can
rawl out and grow into a mosquito and sting
isomeone else, and start another bug, and so
on.
Worse than this were the "nail beetles."
These chaps bore beneath the finger nails and
toe nails. They do this boring so cleverly that
frequently one does not feel it at all. They,
too, deposit larvae, and the result is extremely
dangerous as great sores come up beneath the
nails and one is likely to lose not only the
nail, but the finger or toe from blood poison-
ing, if even worse effects from the poisoning
do not set in.
We used a ten per cent solution of car-
bolic acid as a preventive. Constant watch-
fulness was the price of freedom from becom-
ing nesting places for 'skeeters and bugs.
[126]
FOR DIAMONDS
If we had food in kettles we had to set the
legs in cups of oil to keep out the bugs.
Not far from where our mine is located is
the property of the late Major John Purroy
Mitchel, former mayor of New York City
and later an aviator, who was killed while in
training at a Southern aviation field. He
knew this country well and had had many
adventures down through here where he had
considerable success in mining diamonds.
[ 127]
CHAPTER XXI
THE FIRST DIAMOND!
F course, once landed at the site of
our diamond mine, we had to have a
comfortable, permanent home. A
"logie" it is called here, doubtless a corrup-
tion of the Italian "loggia" which has as its
equivalent in English the word "lodge."
Strictly speaking, a logie is a building that is
partly open at the sides and consists of more
veranda than closed in room. Ours we had
built so that it could be closed in, but except
in driving rains the sides were always open.
We could screen them to keep out mosquitoes
and keep quite comfortable.
We selected a site that was a little back
from the river, out of the dampness, on a high
and dry sloping hillside. We made a little
clearing, but with the forest all about three
sides to protect us from high winds. Instead
of driving foundation posts we cut the trees
[128]
OUR JUNGLE HOME
UP THE MAZARUNI
and used the stumps where possible. This
slope left a sort of basement where we could
store such things as rain might injure but
insects could not.
We did not trust to palms and reeds for
roofing but brought tarred roofing paper with
us. This was much better, storm-proof, and
helped keep insects away as they are never
fond of tar. Facing the river we had a wide
veranda. Inside we made good but crude
tables and chairs, a desk, and strong supports
for our hammocks. The rear end was but a
step from the ground, but the front end was
some fifteen feet up. It made us a snug and
comfortable home for the more than four
months we were digging into the gravel of
the river banks for "shiners."
Meanwhile we got busy with our mining.
Jinrniy acted as our cook and personal ser-
vant. The captain was an expert in this river
life, the Indians were chopping wood and
bringing in game and fish, the blacks were
busy now getting the mine started and later
in digging, so that we were a very busy and
quite contented colony.
Diamond mining on the Mazaruni is not
[129]
UP THE MAZARUNI
unlike gold dust mining. The diamonds, like
the gold, being the heaviest substance in the
gravel, naturally settle down to the bottom
when a sieve is twisted about so as to make
the water move around and around. The cen-
trifugal force sends the heavy material to
the bottom.
We started in with pick and shovel. Later
we built a ^'Long Tom,'' which is a wooden
trough through which water runs, there being
several compartments and cleats. The gravel
is put in at the upper end and carried down
by the rush of water. The gravel, being
lighter, is carried on down and off, the dia-
monds are mixed in with tin ore, pulsite and
ordinary quartz, all of these being heavy.
Finally the residue, after the gravel is
washed out, is put in a sieve and either
^^jigged" by hand or by means of wire sup-
ports, over a box of water.
The soil was made up of loose gravel and
also of conglomerate, not quite solid, yet not
loose like gravel, and much muscle with the
picks was needed to loosen the stuff.
Once our sieves were ready we could
scarcely wait to get busy. Gravel was shov-
[ 130 ]
FOR DIAMONDS
eled into the first sieve and one of the blacks,
an expert '^jigger," took it up and started the
pecuHar circular motion.
^ 'Lucky baby/' he said. The men who do
this work are called ''jiggers" and they call
the sieves "baby."
We watched his every move. Around and
around the sieve went. He paused. We
stretched our necks to see but he merely
scooped off the lighter top gravel that his
circular motion had forced up, then con-
tinued.
Over and over he repeated this, for about
an hour, continually washing it, the water
dripping through the fine mesh of the sieve.
Then it was ready. With a final "swish" of
the sieve and another washing, with the last
handful of gravel brushed off, the contents,
just a few handfuls of material, were dumped
on a crude table and spread out with a sweep
of the hand.
"Here's one!"
It looked bright enough, but Lewis, who
had been prospecting there and had seen them
mine diamonds, had learned the difference be-
tween the dull sparkle of ordinary quartz
[131]
UP THE MAZARUNI
and the brilliant sheen of diamonds; he took
up the particle, pressed it between two knife
blades and crushed it.
* 'Everything here except diamonds can be
crushed by that sort of pressure," he said.
^'Here's one!" I picked it out. It would
not crush.
"Yes. That's a diamond. About half a
carat," said Lewis.
I have that tiny glittering pebble now and
hope to always keep it. The first diamond
from our mine! We found a few more in
that lot, none very large, but all of them of
value. None are too small, in fact, to be of
some value. We find them in various colors,
pure white, which is the average sort; bril-
liant blue white, the most valuable and rare ;
pink or rose, also quite valuable ; and yellow,
not so valuable. Also a few green and black.
Most of the stones we get down there are too
small for jewelry, and are used in commerce.
Drills are made of them and machinery for
boring, and for probably a hundred different
uses in manufacture.
\
[ 132 ]
o
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CHAPTER XXII
HOW THE PRECIOUS STONES
ARE FOUND
THEN we settled down to steady
mining. We built a shed for our
tools, and we got the hand pump
out, we prepared sieves for jigging and we
made "Long Toms" and swinging sieves,
washing troughs and all the necessary ap-
paratus.
If you had happened to come across our
outfit it would have seemed very crude to
you. Rough washing boxes, rough troughs
through which we turned water, shapeless
holes in the ground partly filled with water,
great heaps of worthless gravel, the dismal
sucking sound of the old hand pump, and a
clutter of boards, pans, shovels, and picks.
Yet we had one of the few good mines
down there. The "pork knockers" have no
mines; they journey from place to place up
[ 133 ]
UP THE MAZARUNI
and down the river with pick and shovel and
sieve, with a small quantity of food on their
backs, and make shelter wherever they hap-
pen to be. They generally borrow money for
the outfit, river traders bring up food and
gin — I am sorry to say that it is generally
more gin than food — and these pork knock-
ers, niggers for the most part, exchange their
few diamonds for the strong drink and food
and keep on. They generally come out at the
end of the dry season with enough, or about
enough, to square their debts and leave a
little over to live on until next season when
they borrow again and once more set out.
They have to give a certain percentage of
their diamonds to the British Government for
the privilege of mining. We had to pay $25
for every 250 carats, which was not excessive
at all, when you figure that 250 carats of dia-
mond are worth around $2,000 these days.
We sunk a shaft sixty feet, which was re-
markable in that locality as the gravel is
loose and washes in with rains. We propped
it up with planks but had to keep constant
watch of it. Finally water seeped through
faster than our hand pump could get it out.
[ 134 ]
FOR DIAMONDS
Some of the jiggers are so expert that, im-
possible as it seems, they can jig a baby —
to use their own expression — so that the
diamonds, heavy as they are, will actually
come to the top. They then pick off the big-
gest ones and then go on jigging as usual. But
they do not get away with many. A close
watch is kept on the jiggers and if they are
caught stealing they are fined a month's pay
or more. We had some trouble but not much.
These men are bound out to us by the British
Government and must work. If they run
away they are outcasts and cannot get more
work to do. On the other hand we must feed
them according to the law and work them
only so many hours.
One day we were watching the results of a
jigging from the "Long Tom" and suddenly
there sparkled before us a large, brilliant
stone.
It weighed more than seven carats!
This was the largest stone we found. But
all together we cleaned up, in only a few
months of actual mining, more than $20,000
worth of diamonds !
Rough diamonds are mostly of odd shapes.
[ 135 ]
UP THE MAZARUNI
Seldom do you find them in the almost per-
fect form that we find quartz crystals. Once
in a while I have picked out a small diamond
that looked as though it had come directly
from a skilled lapidary, so perfect in form it
seemed to be.
The largest diamond known to have been
found in these fields weighed fourteen carats.
A pork knocker named ''London" found it.
He was a giant of a black man, noted for his
lawlessness, and greatly feared. He was
working for another man at the time and,
strange to say, he turned it over. The
reason was that he knew he could not sell so
large a gem without being caught.
There is also much gold in that region, but
we did not go after it. Having come for dia-
monds, and finding them in paying quantities,
we stuck to it.
Day after day Lewis took his eight or ten
grains of quinine. Day after day I seemed
to get along without it and I feared to take
too much. The mosquitoes were there in
plenty, the sort whose sting gives one the
jungle fever, so deadly to white men, just as,
at home, they cause malarial fevers.
[ 136 ]
CHAPTER XXIII
GOOD-BYE TO THE JUNGLE
I WAS in excellent health. There seemed
no danger at all and I believed that I
could stay there three or four months
longer. It is a great game, full of fascination.
You get a few diamonds to-day. Next day
less, next day more, next day scarcely any,
next day a big one, and so on. Always it is
"To-morrow we may get a ten carat stone,"
or "To-morrow we may pull a fistful out of
one ^baby,' " and so the temptation is great
to stay on and on. At the rate that we were
gathering in diamonds it seemed that we
ought to pile up about $50,000 in six months.
But after we had been actually mining more
than four months I was returning from a
hunting trip. I had a great burden of deer
meat on my back. I walked through bogs
where it was almost impossible to pull my feet
[137]
UP THE MAZARUNI
out of the mud. I was hungry and extremely-
tired.
Now that is just when the white man suc-
cumbs to the bite of the mosquito down there.
One nailed me on the back of the hand but I
thought nothing of it.
But next morning I hated to get up. I
had no strength. I became worse during the
day and for several days lay in a sort of semi-
stupor, weak and listless.
^'Very bad/' said Captain Peter; "get him
back before he dies! "
Poor Lewis broke camp in record time.
They bundled me into the boat and I was
conscious only a small part of the time.
Going downriver is far different from com-
ing up. They made the trip to Georgetown
in a few days and when they got me to the
hospital the doctors looked me over and de-
manded a deposit of $85.
"Why?" demanded Lewis, quite indignant.
"To cover funeral expenses. He can't
live," they said.
But I fooled them and recovered rapidly.
Lewis and I still own that mine. We came
out with a good little pot of money, clean
[138]
FOR DIAMONDS
profit. The war took all of the time of both
of us — but now that it's over we are plan-
ning to go back there some day.
With our experience we feel sure that we
can make much money, both in gold and dia-
mond mining. We shall take back better
equipment, power pumps, and everything this
experience taught us we should have.
My adventure was satisfactory in every
way. I wish I could have stuck it out six
months longer. But I think the best plan
would be for white men to set up their mines
and work them about five months, go back
home for seven months, work them another
five months, and so on, thus avoiding the
great dangers.
I am looking forward to the day when I
can get back there, meet my Indian friends,
go tapir and labba hunting with them and,
above all, enjoy the wonderful thrill that
comes when you spread out the residue of a
jigging and pick out, here and there, a spark-
ling diamond!
[ 139]
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