Head Hunters Of The Amazon

247 Pages·2016·0.89 MB·English

by  De Graff F W Up

The Naked Word electronic edition of....
Head Hunters of the Amazon
Seven Years of Exploration and Adventure
by F. W. Up de Graff, 1923
with a foreword by KERMIT ROOSEVELT
TO MY SONS
BOB, BILL AND FUZZ
FOREWORD
IT is not given to many of us to wander through the waste places of the earth,
and too often the explorer leaves no written record of his experiences. Mr. Up de
Graff led an adventurous life in the region drained by the extreme head waters of
the Amazon, and he was a keen observer of all that passed on around him. As he
says, he is not a trained naturalist and the deductions he draws from some of his
observations may be questioned by men whose life work is natural history, but
any such criticisms do not detract from the value of the work. Anyone who has
tried it out knows that three equally reliable men observing together a scene or
incident, combining variety of action with rapidity of duration may make greatly
varying independent reports of what took place.
To him who knows life in the Amazon jungles Mr. Up de Graff's narrative will
bring back many a vivid scene. The layman may feel that he overemphasizes the
hardships, but those who have been off the beaten path in the tropics will know
that such is not the case. The only one of Mr. Up de Graff's companions whom I
have met talked of this very matter of temperament. He said that when he looked
back upon his life on the upper Amazon he remembered only the excitement, the
interest and the glamour; but that when he came to really think it over of course
he could recall very clearly the reverse of the medal. I must confess to somewhat
the same tendency.
Mr. Up de Graff emphasizes the discomforts of the ant plague; and it was that
which we found most disagreeable on the River of Doubt. One is apt to think of
the Amazon basin in terms of snakes and mosquitoes, and I was interested in
seeing that Mr. Up de Graff made the same observation that we did, and remarks
seeing that Mr. Up de Graff made the same observation that we did, and remarks
that very few snakes are really to be encountered in the unsettled and unexplored
territories. They do far more damage in the settled districts. The loss of life from
snake bite is large in Brazil, for the field laborers go barefoot, and are therefore
very vulnerable. Dr. Vital Brazil has done much to combat this mortality in
developing serums on his snake farm in Saõ Paulo.
One point on which my own experience are at variance from those of Mr. Up de
Graff was in the maximum length reached in an anaconda.
I have often heard tell of snakes forty or fifty feet long but I have never
encountered one, nor seen the skin of one. Many of our companions in Brazil
told of meeting with snakes of great size, and when my Father offered five
thousand dollars reward for the skin and vertebra (or either alone) of a snake of
more than thirty feet, our comrades considered the money as good as in their
pockets, for Father set no time limit on the offer and only required that the
specimen be turned over to the nearest American Consul, who would then
forward it to him. That snake is still at large! There may be snakes of more than
thirty feet, no one can definitely deny their existence, but they must be
exceedingly rare.
I have said it is easy for entirely trustworthy observers to make mistakes. How
easy it is was once demonstrated to Father and myself in East Africa. There was
a persistent legend of the existence of a giant water serpent in Lake Naivasha,
and one day when we were out after hippopotamus I pointed out to Father
something that certainly had every appearance of being a great snake swimming
through the water. Had we not had field glasses we would probably in all
sincerity have believed that we had seen the legendary serpent, but when we
turned our powerful glasses upon the snake it proved to be a school of otters
slipping along in single file. Since then I have been slow to discredit the
sincerity of those recounting the most unusual sights.
Mr. Up de Graff's book should commend itself to a great variety of readers.
Those in search of adventure can read it as they would a novel; those in search of
a vivid picture of a great unknown stretch of country can learn a vast amount in a
most attractive form. It is useless to attempt to record the numberless incidents
that will stand out with photographic sharpness to those who know the jungle.
How excellent is the description of the feeling of oppression brought on by being
continually encompassed by the tall trees, with only an occasional slit of sky
visible and never an horizon. Too few of the genuine "voor treckers" have left us
an account of their experiences. We owe a great debt to Mr. Up de Graff.
an account of their experiences. We owe a great debt to Mr. Up de Graff.
KERMIT ROOSEVELT
INTRODUCTION
THIS is an old story, and yet a new one. Since the race of men first began to
move over the face of the Earth, the desire for fresh discovery has been strong in
the human breast. This longing to penetrate the hidden depths of Nature, coupled
with the sheer love of adventure for adventure's sake, was perhaps what drove
me to undertake the series of journeys of which this book forms a simple tale. I
claim for it neither scientific nor literary value. It is a mere collection of
disjointed records, published in this form in the belief that the youthful, untamed
spirits of to-day will derive pleasure from the contemplation of the wanderings
of one of their predecessors, guided by an inscrutable Fate.
After twenty years of pressure from my friends, and several false starts, I have at
last succeeded in putting on record the story of my wanderings in the little-
known forests of the Upper Amazon basin. There, in the greatest tract of virgin
country in the world, I spent some of the most fascinating— as well as the most
wretched— days of my life, in the company of as fine a set of fellows as a man
could wish for at such a time. Fortune threw us in each other's way, but before
we parted we were bound by insoluble ties of friendship.
As for their identities, I have concealed none but one— the man whom I have
called Morse. Not only their names, but every detail mentioned in connection
with the characters who figure in this book is accurate. It is a History, in the true
sense of the word, for I have fulfilled to the letter the first duty of the historian—
I have told the truth.
In all probability many of my friends and acquaintances of whom I make
mention are alive to-day. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to hear
from either themselves or others who know something of their more recent
histories, should this book fall into their hands.
The problem of putting into writing an unwritten language is bound to present
certain difficulties. These I have met in what appeared to me to be the most
practical way in the case of the Inca (or Quichua, which is the Ecuadorian
equivalent) and Jívaro words, which I have introduced for the sake of those who
are interested in philology. In order to convey as nearly as possible the exact
sound of such words, I have spelled them in accordance with the Castillian
pronunciation of the alphabet, which certainly renders them much more
accurately than would the English one with its numerous anomalies and
variations. Those who take pleasure in studying such matters should note the few
important points of distinction between the Spanish and English alphabets before
reading the text.
To my friend and collaborator, Roger Bacon, I give the credit for the careful
compilation of the complex data which form the basis of this story, and take this
opportunity of thanking him for his energetic and painstaking assistance in
putting the whole thing before the public in readable form.
Greater still is the debt which I owe to my mother, who has carefully preserved
for me the numerous documents bearing on this narrative, which have enabled
me accurately to record many details which would otherwise have escaped my
memory.
F. W. UP DE GRAFF.
Barcelona, 1921.
HEAD HUNTERS OF THE AMAZON
CHAPTER I
THE BEGINNING OF THE TRAIL
The Call— The "Theta Nu Epsilon"— Colon— The Grand Hotel, Panama— Guayaquil— Alligators
— An appointment.
I HAD made the acquaintance of D. Enrique Domingo Córdovez, known among
his friends as "the Count," at Union College, Schenectady, N. Y., in the year
1890. He was one among the many rich young South Americans who come to
the United States to take advanced courses at the universities, chiefly in the field
of engineering. The son of a wealthy Ecuadorian, he was actuated by a very real
desire to return to his native land equipped with the technical knowledge which
would enable him to install in its primitive towns some of the many modern
would enable him to install in its primitive towns some of the many modern
conveniences which were sadly lacking. And so it came about that his serious
nature and his real love of his work enabled him to graduate with honours as a
civil engineer.
My activities as one of the chiefs of the "Theta Nu Epsilon"
led to my "graduating" two years ahead of my class. Well do I remember how
the whole of my classmates hauled me down to the station in the College farm
wagon on the day of my departure, having refused to work on so memorable an
occasion. But although the "Count" did not graduate at the same time as I did,
our two years together as members of the same fraternity had sufficed to form a
lasting friendship between us. Furthermore, the long descriptions of the
backwardness of his country which he had given me from time to time, had fired
me with a determination to go there one day and equip the City of Quito with
some much-needed modern improvements. In those days, the streets of the
capital of Ecuador were lighted by means of candles placed by householders in
their front windows.
So I kept in touch with Córdovez after I left College, and later he came to see me
at my house in Elmira, N. Y. There we finally decided that I would go down to
Ecuador as soon as he had had a chance of examining the business possibilities
of our proposed ventures, for which he was to find the money and obtain the
concessions on arrival home. Then he left the States.
Thus it came about that in October, 1894, I received the following letter asking
me to confirm our agreement.
Quito.
September 30th.
1894.
Mr. Fritz W. Up de Graff.
Elmira, N. Y.
My dear Fritz,
You cannot imagine how glad I was to receive your
letter. As I was in Riobamba at the time it had reached this place, it did not
come to my hands but some days after.
Well, you are an electrical engineer now, are you?
I thought you still were engaged in the canning business over in Chicago, so
I must confess I was surprised when I read your letter proposing all sorts of
electrical business....,
Now I must let you know that life in the forests
is not very enjoyable and has a number of unpleasant things that are in
connection with it. No society is to be found there, no such amusements as
shows and the like either, and one can only be there to work, and if one is
enterprising and hard-working it is a sure thing to get a good remuneration
after a time.
This country is composed of very indolent people,
and I can assure you that though there are no possibilities of making the
fabulous fortunes that are made in the States, yet it is much easier here than
there to make a handsome capital. The country is backward, very backward,
and there is an opening in almost every line. As I told you when in the
States, the climate of the interior is extremely pleasant and healthy, whilst
that of Guayaquil is unhealthy to most people, however I have been in
perfect health in both....
It is now your turn to decide. If you decide to
come, it is better to do so immediately, before Winter begins. Let me know
at once the date of your arrival in Guayaquil, and I will arrange so that you
will have no difficulties when you get there.
Hoping that I will see you soon, and that this
finds you now in perfect health,
I remain, yours in the bonds,
H. Domingo Córdovez.
It did not take me long to come to a decision. Stanley's "Through the Dark
Continent" had inspired me as a boy with a determination to go off into the
Unknown World which lies beyond the confines of civilization, offering a life
brimful of adventure to him who would penetrate its depths.
Adventure! That was the keynote of my life, the note to which my youthful,
untamed spirit vibrated in sympathy. Here was my chance, then. To South
America, with its vast tracts of unexplored territory, holding Heaven knows what
strange secrets, I would go.
On November 18th, 1894, I sailed from New York in the S.S. Advance, of the
old Ward Line, bound for Panama, via Colon, with $100 in my pocket. In ten
days we made the Colombian port, after a voyage which was, I suppose, as
uneventful as any other, but which was, for me, a great adventure. I was on my
way to my goal.
Colon struck me as being a town of turkey-buzzards and niggers. Both turned
out in large numbers to watch the arrival of the S.S.
Advance. I had not much of a chance to see the town, a mere collection of
thatched roofs grouped round the wooden wharves, half-hidden by the palms and
banana plants which grow in profusion. Situated in the middle of a swamp, with
muddy lanes for streets, and buzzards in place of sewers, it was a wholly
unattractive place.
I boarded a train on the landing-pier, and was taken across the Isthmus in about
two and a half hours, passing a series of small country towns much the same as
Colon itself, and having frequent glimpses of the old De Lesseps Canal. The
abandoned machinery still lay where it had been left by the French, rotting in the
mud and water, tropical growth sprouting from the stacks of the steam-shovels,
their great boilers half hidden in the tangled mass of rank weeds. It was a dismal
spectacle.
Arrived at Panama, I wrote home on December 12th, 1894, from the Grand
Hotel, the only one the town boasted. It described itself on its letter paper as
"Situated in the Parque de Santa Ana, the most central point of the city, and at
the same time the healthiest; a first-class restaurant; splendid bedrooms for
travellers and transients; cup-and-ball room."
In reality, dirt, bugs, and an absolute disregard for the decencies of life as we
understand them were the outstanding features of that hotel. The sanitary
understand them were the outstanding features of that hotel. The sanitary
arrangements were primitive in the extreme. The "splendid bedrooms" to which
the letter-paper gave witness were so teeming with vermin that no proper
impression of the state of things can be conveyed.
I was not aware at the time whether it was the custom to mow the grass and
weeds before showing a guest to his room, but at any rate the proprietor of that
hotel neglected to do so. The verdure was growing between the floor-boards to
the height of at least a foot when I took possession of my room. I did a little
weeding before bringing in my steamer trunk, and depositing it in the clearing
which I had made, that night I slept on it, escaping the crawling creatures which
lived in the bed, and which would have had to risk being lost in the forest on the
floor in order to reach me. The mosquitoes, however, were appalling.
Mr. Soresby, the American consul, was very kind to me, and gave me a good
deal of friendly advice for which I was very grateful.
Many were the traps awaiting the young, unwary traveller from the North.
On my second evening in the town, he took me out to see the places of
amusement, demonstrating among other things his skill at the wheel of fortune.
In a very few minutes he broke the bank for twenty thousand Colombian pesos.
To the proprietor, who came and begged him to lend him half the money to re-
start the wheel, he put a leading question:
"Would you," he asked, "have given me back half my money if I had lost a
fortune to you?"
Next day I was glad enough to board the S.S. Santiago of the Pacific Mail Line,
and see the last of Panama as we sailed for Guayaquil. After forty-eight hours'
sailing, we arrived at our destination.
There were two outstanding features of the chief port of Ecuador which, I think,
deserve mention; the sewage system, and the "Admiral."
Mr. Dillard, the American consul, described to me the former as I was not
staying long enough in the town to see it for myself, due to the prevalence of
yellow fever and bubonic plague, and introduced me to the latter.
The refuse of all kinds, instead of being carried away in drains, was thrown out