disappeared for a time.
The fishermen continued their cautious advance. One of them, armed
with a very primitive harpoon–a long nail at the end of a
stick–kept himself in the bow of the boat, while the other two
noiselessly paddled on. They waited till the necessity of breathing
would bring the manatees up again. In ten minutes or thereabouts the
animals would certainly appear in a circle more or less confined.
In fact, this time had scarcely elapsed before the black points
emerged at a little distance, and two jets of air mingled with vapor
were noiselessly shot forth.
The ubas approached, the harpoons were thrown at the same instant;
one missed its mark, but the other struck one of the cetaceans near
his tail.
It was only necessary to stun the animal, who rarely defends himself
when touched by the iron of the harpoon. In a few pulls the cord
brought him alongside the uba, and he was towed to the beach at the
foot of the village.
It was not a manatee of any size, for it only measured about three
feet long. These poor cetaceans have been so hunted that they have
become very rare in the Amazon and its affluents, and so little time
is left them to grow that the giants of the species do not now exceed
seven feet. What are these, after manatees twelve and fifteen feet
long, which still abound in the rivers and lakes of Africa?
But it would be difficult to hinder their destruction. The flesh of
the manatee is excellent, superior even to that of pork, and the oil
furnished by its lard, which is three inches thick, is a product of
great value. When the meat is smoke-dried it keeps for a long time,
and is capital food. If to this is added that the animal is easily
caught, it is not to be wondered at that the species is on its way to
complete destruction.
On the 19th of July, at sunrise, the jangada left Fonteboa, and
entered between the two completely deserted banks of the river, and
breasted some islands shaded with the grand forests of cacao-trees.
The sky was heavily charged with electric cumuli, warning them of
renewed storms.
The Rio Jurua, coming from the southwest, soon joins the river on the
left. A vessel can go up it into Peru without encountering
insurmountable obstacles among its white waters, which are fed by a
great number of petty affluents.
“It is perhaps in these parts,” said Manoel, “that we ought to look
for those female warriors who so much astonished Orellana. But we
ought to say that, like their predecessors, they do nor form separate
tribes; they are simply the wives who accompany their husbands to the
fight, and who, among the Juruas, have a great reputation for
bravery.”
The jangada continued to descend; but what a labyrinth the Amazon now
appeared! The Rio Japura, whose mouth was forty-eight miles on ahead,
and which is one of its largest tributaries, runs almost parallel
with the river.
Between them were canals, iguarapes, lagoons, temporary lakes, an
inextricable network which renders the hydrography of this country so
difficult.
But if Araujo had no map to guide him, his experience served him more
surely, and it was wonderful to see him unraveling the chaos, without
ever turning aside from the main river.
In fact, he did so well that on the 25th of July, in the afternoon,
after having passed before the village of Parani-Tapera, the raft was
anchored at the entrance of the Lake of Ego, or Teffe, which it was
useless to enter, for they would not have been able to get out of it
again into the Amazon.
But the town of Ega is of some importance; it was worthy of a halt to
visit it. It was arranged, therefore, that the jangada should remain
on this spot till the 27th of July, and that on the morrow the large
pirogue should take the whole family to Ega. This would give a rest,
which was deservedly due to the hard-working crew of the raft.
The night passed at the moorings near a slightly rising shore, and