Читать книгу The Story of Ida Pfeiffer - Unknown - Страница 2

Prompted by a boundless thirst for knowledge and an insatiable desire to see new places and new things, Madame Pfeiffer left Vienna on the 1st of May 1846, and proceeded to Hamburg, where she embarked on board a Danish brig, the Caroline, for Rio Janeiro.  As the voyage was divested of romantic incidents, we shall land the reader without delay at the great sea-port of the Brazilian empire.

The traveller’s description of it is not very favourably coloured.  The streets are dirty, and the houses, even the public buildings, insignificant.  The Imperial Palace has not the slightest architectural pretensions.  The finest square is the Largo do Roico, but this would not be admitted into Belgravia.  It is impossible to speak in high terms even of the churches, the interior of which is not less disappointing than their exterior.  And as is the town, so are the inhabitants.  Negroes and mulattoes do not make up attractive pictures.  Some of the Brazilian and Portuguese women, however, have handsome and expressive countenances.

Most writers indulge in glowing descriptions of the scenery and climate of the Brazils; of the cloudless, radiant sky, and the magic of the never-ending spring.  Madame Ida Pfeiffer admits that the vegetation is richer, and the soil more fruitful, and nature more exuberantly active than in any other part of the world; but still, she says, it must not be thought that all is good and beautiful, and that there is nothing to weaken the powerful effect of the first impression.  The constant blaze of colour after a while begins to weary; the eye wants rest; the monotony of the verdure oppresses; and we begin to understand that the true loveliness of spring is only rightly appreciated when it succeeds the harsher aspects of winter.

Europeans suffer much from the climate.  The moisture is very considerable, and renders the heat, which in the hot months rises to 99° in the shade, and 122° in the sun, more difficult to bear.  Fogs and mists are disagreeably common; and whole tracts of country are often veiled by an impenetrable mist.

The Brazils suffer, too, from a plague of insects,—from mosquitoes, ants, baraten, and sand-fleas; against the attacks of which the traveller finds it difficult to defend himself.  The ants often appear in trains of immeasurable length, and pursue their march over every obstacle that stands in the way.  Madame Pfeiffer, during her residence at a friend’s house, beheld the advance of a swarm of this description.  It was really interesting to see what a regular line they formed; nothing could make them deviate from the direction on which they had first determined.  Madame Geiger, her friend, told her she was awakened one night by a terrible itching: she sprang out of bed immediately, and lo, a swarm of ants were passing over it!  There is no remedy for the infliction, except to wait, with as much patience as one can muster, for the end of the procession, which frequently lasts four to six hours.  It is possible, to some extent, to protect provisions against their attacks, by placing the legs of the tables in basins filled with water.  Clothes and linen are enclosed in tightly-fitting tin canisters.

The worst plague of all, however, are the sand-fleas, which attach themselves to one’s toes, underneath the nail, or sometimes to the soles of the feet.  When a person feels an irritation in these parts, he must immediately look at the place; and if he discern a tiny black point, surrounded by a small white ring, the former is the chigoe, or sand-flea, and the latter the eggs which it has deposited in the flesh.  The first thing to be done is to loosen the skin all round as far as the white skin is visible; the whole deposit is then extracted, and a little snuff strewn in the empty space.  The blacks perform this operation with considerable skill.

Rich as the Brazils are in natural productions, they are wanting in many articles which Europeans regard as of the first importance.  There are sugar and coffee, it is true; but no corn, no potatoes, and none of our delightful varieties of fruit.  The flour of manioc, obtained from the cassava plant, which forms a staple portion of almost every dish, supplies the place of bread, but is far from being so nutritious and strengthening; while the different kinds of sweet-tasting roots are far inferior in value to our potato.  The only fruit which Madame Pfeiffer thought really excellent, were the oranges, bananas, and mangoes.  The pine-apples are neither very sweet nor very fragrant.  And with regard to two most important articles of consumption, the milk is very watery, and the meat very dry.

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Our traveller, during her sojourn at Rio Janeiro, made many interesting excursions in the neighbourhood.  One was directed to Petropolis, a colony founded by Germans in the heart of scenery of the most exquisite character.  Accompanied by Count Berchthold, she sailed for Porto d’Estrella in one of the regular coasting barks.  Their course carried them across a bay remarkable for its picturesque views.  It lies calmly in the embrace of richly-wooded hills, and is studded with islands, like a silver shield with emerald bosses.  Some of these islands are completely overgrown with palms, while others are masses of huge rock, with a carpet of green turf.

Their bark was manned by four negroes and a white skipper.  At first they ran merrily before a favourable wind, but in two hours the crew were compelled to take to the oars, the method of using which was exceedingly fatiguing.  At each dip of the oar, the rower mounts upon a bench in front of him, and then, during the stroke, throws himself off again, with his full force.  In two hours more they passed into the river Geromerino, and made their way through a world of beautiful aquatic plants which covered the tranquil waters in every direction.  The river banks are flat, and fringed with underwood and young trees; the background is formed by ranges of low green hills.

At Porto d’Estrella, Madame Pfeiffer and her companion landed, and proceeded on foot towards Petropolis.  The first eight miles lay through a broad valley, clothed with dense brambles and young trees, and shadowed by lofty mountains.  The wild pine-apples by the roadside were very fair to see; they were not quite ripe, but tinted of the most delicate red.  Beautiful humming-birds flashed through the air like “winged jewels,” and studded the dense foliage with points of many-coloured light.

After passing through the valley, they reached the Sierra, as the Brazilians term the practicable mountain-summits.  It was three thousand feet in height, and was ascended by a broad paved road, striking through the depths of virgin forests.

Madame Pfeiffer had always imagined that the trees in virgin forests had very thick and lofty trunks; but such was not the case here; probably because the vegetation was too luxuriant, and the larger trunks have the life crushed out of them by masses of smaller trees, bushes, creepers, and parasites.

Frequent truppas, or teams of ten mules driven by a negro, as well as numerous pedestrians, enlivened the path, and prevented our travellers from observing that their steps were persistently followed up by a negro.  When, however, they arrived at a somewhat lonely spot, this negro suddenly sprang forward, holding a lasso in one hand and a long knife in the other, and with threatening gestures gave them to understand that he intended to murder them, and then drag their dead bodies into the forest!

The travellers were without arms, having been told the road was perfectly safe; their only weapons were their umbrellas, with the exception of a clasp-knife.  This the brave woman drew from her pocket and opened, in the calm resolution to sell her life as dearly as possible.  With their umbrellas they parried their adversary’s blows as long as they could; but he caught hold of Madame Ida’s, which snapped off, leaving only a piece of the handle in her hand.  In the struggle, however, he dropped his knife, which rolled a few steps away from him.  Madame Ida immediately made a dash at it, and thought she had secured it; but, quicker in his movements than she was, he thrust her away with his hands and feet, and once more obtained possession of it.  Waving it furiously over his head, he slashed her twice in the upper part of the left arm.  All seemed lost; but in her extreme peril the brave lady bethought her of her own knife, and struck at her adversary, wounding him in the hand.  At the same moment Count Berchthold sprang forward, and while he seized the villain with both arms, Madame Ida Pfeiffer recovered her feet.  All this took place in less than a minute.  The negro was now roused into a condition of maniacal fury; he gnashed his teeth like a wild beast, and brandished his knife, while uttering fearful threats.  The issue of the contest would probably have been disastrous, but for the opportune arrival of assistance.  Hearing the tramp of horses’ hoofs upon the road, the negro desisted from his attack, and sprang into the forest.  A couple of horsemen turning the corner of the road, our travellers hurried to meet them; and having told their tale, which, indeed, their wounds told eloquently enough, they leaped from their horses, and entered the wood in pursuit.  A couple of negroes soon afterwards coming up, the villain was captured, securely pinioned, and, as he would not walk, severely beaten, until, as most of the blows fell upon his head, Madame Ida Pfeiffer feared that the wretch’s skull would be broken.  Nothing, however, would induce him to walk, and the negroes were compelled to carry him bodily, to the nearest house.

The colony of Petropolis proved to be situated in the depth of a virgin forest, at an elevation of 2500 feet above the sea-level.  At the time of Madame Pfeiffer’s visit it was about fourteen months old, having been founded for the special purpose of providing the capital with fruits and vegetables which, in tropical climates, will thrive only in very elevated situations.  It was, of course, in a very rudimentary condition, the mere embryo of a town; but the country around it was very picturesque.

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Madame Pfeiffer’s second excursion was into the interior; and it opened up to her a variety of interesting scenes,—as, for instance, a manioc-fazenda, or plantation.  The manioc plant, it appears, throws off stalks from four to six feet in height, with a number of large leaves at their upper extremities.  The valuable portion of the plant is its bulbous root, which frequently weighs two or three pounds, and supplies the place of corn throughout the Brazils.  It is washed, peeled, and held against the rough edge of a mill-stone, until it is completely ground into flour.  This flour is collected in a basket, steeped thoroughly in water, and afterwards pressed quite dry by means of a press.  Lastly, it is scattered upon large iron plates, and slowly dried over a gentle fire.  At this stage it resembles a very coarse kind of flour, and is eaten in two ways;—either mixed with hot water, until it forms a kind of porridge; or baked in the form of coarse flour, which is handed round at table in little baskets.

She also saw a coffee plantation.  The coffee-trees stand in rows upon tolerably steep hillocks.  Their height ranges from six feet to twelve; and they begin to bear sometimes as early as the second, but in no case later than the third year.  They are productive for at least ten years.  The leaf is long and slightly serrated, and the flower white; while the fruit hangs down like a cluster of grapes, and resembles a large cherry, which varies from green to red, then to brown, and almost black.  While red, the outer shell is soft; but eventually it becomes perfectly hard, until it may be compared to a wooden capsule.  Blossoms and ripe fruit are found on the same tree at the same time; so that a crop may be gathered at almost any season of the year.  After the berries are plucked, they are spread out in spacious areas enclosed by a wall about twelve feet high, with small drains to carry off the rain-water.  Here the coffee is allowed to dry in the heat of the sun, and it is then shaken into large stone mortars, where it is lightly pounded with wooden hammers, set in motion by water power.  The whole mass falls into wooden boxes attached to a long table, at which sit the negro workers, who separate the coffee from the husk, and put it into flat copper pans.  In these it is carefully and skilfully turned about over a slow fire, until desiccation is complete.  On the whole, says Madame Ida Pfeiffer, the preparation of the coffee is not laborious, and the harvest much more easily gathered than one of corn.  The negro, while plucking the coffee, stands erect, and the tree protects him from the heat of the sun.  His only danger is from poisonous snakes, and a sting from one of these is a very rare occurrence.

Another novelty which much impressed our traveller was the sight of the frequent burning forests.  These are set on fire in order to clear the ground for cultivation.  In most cases she viewed the tremendous spectacle from a distance; but one day she realized it in all its details, as her road lay between a wood in flames on the one hand, and the brushwood, crackling and seething, on the other.  The space between the double rows of fire did not exceed fifty paces in breadth, and was completely buried in smoke.  The spluttering and hissing of the fire was distinctly audible, and through the dense mass of vapour shot upward thick shafts and tongues of flame, while now and then the large trees crashed to the ground, with loud reports, like those of artillery.

“On seeing my guide enter this fiery gulf,” says our traveller, “I was, I must confess, rather frightened;” and her dread was surely very excusable.  She plucked up courage, however, when she saw that her guide pushed forward.  On the threshold, so to speak, sat two negroes, to indicate the safe, and, in truth, the only path.  The guide, in obedience to their warning, spurred on his mule, and, followed by Madame Pfeiffer, galloped at full speed across the desert of fire.  Flames to the right of them, flames to the left of them, onward they dashed, and happily effected the passage in safety.

* * * * *

Madame Pfeiffer gives a bright description of the beauties of the road as she pushed further into the interior.  Crossing a small waterfall, she struck right into the depths of the virgin forest, pursuing a narrow path which ran along the bank of a little stream.  Palms, with their lordly crests, soared high above the other trees, which, intertwined by inextricable boughs, formed the loveliest fairy-bowers imaginable; every stem, every branch was luxuriously festooned with fantastic orchids; while creepers and ferns glided up the tall, smooth trunks, mingling with the boughs, and hanging in every direction waving curtains of flowers, of the sweetest odours and the most vivid colours.  With shrill twittering cry and rapid wings flashed the humming-bird from bough to bough; the pepper-pecker, with glowing plumage, soared timorously upwards; while parrots and paroquets, and innumerable birds of beautiful appearance, added, by their cries and motions, to the liveliness of the scene.

Madame Pfeiffer visited an Indian village.  It lay deep in the forest recesses, and consisted of five huts, or rather sheds, formed of leaves, and measuring eighteen feet by twelve feet, erected under lofty trees.  The frames were formed of four poles stuck in the ground, with another reaching across; and the roof was wrought of palm-leaves, by no means impervious to the rain.  The sides were open.  In the interior hung a hammock or two; and on the earth a few roots, Indian corn, and bananas were roasting under a heap of ashes.  In one corner, under the roof, a small supply of provisions was hoarded up, and round about were scattered a few gourds; these are used by the Puris as substitutes for “crockery.”  Their weapons, the long bows and arrows, leaned against the wall.

Madame Pfeiffer describes the Puri Indians as even uglier than the negroes.  Their complexion is a light bronze; they are stunted in stature, well-knit, and about the middle size.  Their features are broad and somewhat compressed; their hair is thick, long, and of a coal-black colour.  The men wear it hanging straight down; the women, in plaits fastened to the back of the head, and sometimes falling loosely down about their persons.  Their forehead is broad and low, and the nose somewhat flattened; the eyes are long and narrow, almost like those of the Chinese; and the mouth is large, with rather thick lips.  To enhance the effect of these various charms, the countenance bears a peculiar look of stupidity, which may be attributed perhaps to the way in which the mouth is kept always open.  Women, as well as males, are generally tattooed of a reddish or blue colour, round the mouth, moustachio-wise.  Both sexes are addicted to smoking, and look upon brandy as the summum bonum of human life.

The Indians, ugly as they were, gave Madame Pfeiffer a hospitable welcome.  After an evening meal, in which roasted monkey and parrot were the chief dishes, they performed one of their characteristic dances.  A quantity of wood was heaped up into a funeral pile, and set on fire; the men then danced around it in a ring.  They threw their bodies from side to side with much awkwardness, but always moving the head forward in a straight line.  The women then joined in, forming at a short distance behind the men, and imitating all their movements.  A horrible noise arose; this was intended for a song, the singers at the same time distorting their features frightfully.  One of them performed on a kind of stringed instrument, made out of the stem of a cabbage-palm, and about two feet, or two feet and a half, in length.  A hole was cut in it slantwise, and six fibres of the stem were kept up in an elevated position at each end, by means of a small bridge.  The fingers played upon these as upon a guitar, drawing forth a very low, harsh, and disagreeable tone.  The dance, thus pleasingly accompanied, was called the Dance of Peace and Joy.

A wilder measure was next undertaken by the men alone.  They first equipped themselves with bows, arrows, and stout clubs; then they formed a circle, indulged in the most rapid and fantastic movements, and brandished their clubs as if dealing death to a hundred foes.  Suddenly they broke their ranks, strung their bows, placed their arrows ready, and represented all the evolutions of shooting after a flying foe, giving utterance to the most piercing cries, which resounded through the forest-glades.  Madame Pfeiffer, believing that she was really surrounded by enemies, started up in terror, and was heartily glad when the dance ended.

From Rio Janeiro Madame Pfeiffer sailed in an English ship, the John Renwick, on the 9th of December, bound for Valparaiso in Chili.  She kept to the south, touching at Santos, where the voyagers celebrated New-Year’s Day, and reaching the mouth of the Rio Plata on the 11th of January.  In these latitudes the Southern Cross is the most conspicuous object in the heavens.  It consists of four stars of much brilliancy, arranged in two diagonal rows.  Late in the month the voyagers sighted the sterile shores and barren mountains of Patagonia, and next the volcanic rocks, wave-worn and wind-worn, of Tierra del Fuego.  Through the Strait of Le Maire, which separates the latter from Staten Island, they sailed onward to the extreme southern point of the American continent, the famous promontory of Cape Horn.  It is the termination of the mighty mountain-chain of the Andes, and is formed of a mass of colossal basaltic rocks, thrown together in wild disorder, as by a Titan’s hand.

Rounding Cape Horn they encountered a violent gale, which lasted for several days; and soon discovered, like other voyagers, how little the great southern ocean deserves its name of the Pacific.  But they reached Valparaiso in safety.  Its appearance, however, did not very favourably impress Madame Ida Pfeiffer.  It is laid out in two long streets at the foot of dreary hills, these hills consisting of a pile of rocks covered with thin strata of earth and sand.  Some of them are covered with houses; on one of them is the churchyard; the others are bare and solitary.  The two chief streets are broad, and much frequented, especially by horsemen; for every Chilian is born a horseman, and is usually mounted on a steed worthy of a good rider.

Valparaiso houses are European in style, with flat Italian roofs.  Broad steps lead up into a lofty entrance-hall on the first floor, from which, through large glass doors, the visitor passes into the drawing-room and other apartments.  The drawing-room is the pride not only of every European settler, but of every native Chilian.  The foot sinks into heavy and costly carpets; the walls are emblazoned with rich tapestry; the furniture and mirrors are of European make, and sumptuous in the extreme; and every table presents the evidence of refined taste in gorgeous albums, adorned with the choicest engravings.

As to the lower classes of the population, if we would obtain an idea of their manners and customs, we must stroll on a fête-day into one of their eating-houses.

In one corner, on the ground, crackles a tremendous fire, surrounded by innumerable pots and pans, between which are wooden spits with beef and pork, simmering and roasting with appetizing savour.  A rude wooden frame-work, with a long broad plank on it, occupies the middle of the room, and is covered with a cloth, the original colour of which it is impossible to determine.  This is the guest-table.  The dinner is served up in the most primitive fashion imaginable, all the viands being heaped up in one dish; beans and rice, potatoes and roast beef, onions and paradise apples, forming a curious medley.  The appetites of the guests are keen, and no time is wasted in talking.  At the end of the repast, a goblet of wine or water passes from hand to hand; after which every tongue is loosened.  In the evening a guitar strikes up, and dancing becomes general.

A singular custom prevails among the Chilians on the death of a little child.  This incident, in most European families, is attended by much sorrow: the Chilian parents make it the occasion of a great festival.  The deceased angelito, or little angel, is adorned in various ways.  Its eyes, instead of being closed, are opened as wide as possible; its cheeks are painted red; then the cold rigid corpse is dressed in the finest clothes, crowned with flowers, and set up in a little chair in a flower-garlanded niche.  The relatives and neighbours flock in, to wish the parents joy on the possession of such an angel; and, during the first night, they all indulge in the most extravagant dances, and feast with sounds of wildest merriment before the angelito.

Madame Pfeiffer heard from a merchant the following story:—A grave-digger, on his way to the churchyard with one of these deceased angelitos, tarried at a tavern to refresh himself with a cup of wine.  The landlord inquired what he was carrying under his cloak, and on learning that it was an angelito, offered him a shilling for it.  A bargain was soon struck; the landlord quickly fitted up a flowery niche in the drinking-saloon, and then took care that his neighbours should know what a treasure he had acquired.  They came; they admired the angelito; they drank copiously in its honour.  But the parents hearing of the affair, interfered, carried away their dead child, and summoned the landlord before the magistrate.  The latter gravely heard the pleadings on both sides, and as no such case was mentioned in the statute-book, arranged it amicably, to the satisfaction of both parties.

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Wearying of Valparaiso, our restless and adventurous traveller, who was bent upon accomplishing a voyage round the world, took her passage for China in the Dutch barque Lootpurt, Captain Van Wyk Jurianse.

They sailed from Valparaiso on the 18th of March, and on the 26th of April came in sight of that gem of the South Seas, Tahiti, the Otaheite of Captain Cook, and the largest and most beautiful of the Society group.  From the days of Bougainville, its discoverer, down to those of “the Earl and the Doctor,” who recently published a narrative of their visit, it has been the theme of admiration for the charms of its scenery.  It lifts its lofty summit out of a wealth of luxuriant vegetation, which descends to the very margin of a sea as blue as the sky above it.  Cool green valleys penetrate into its mountain-recesses, and their slopes are loaded with groves of bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees.  The inhabitants, physically speaking, are not unworthy of their island-Eden; they are a tall, robust, and well-knit race, and would be comely but for their custom of flattening the nose as soon as the child is born.  They have fine dark eyes, and thick jet-black hair.  The colour of their skin is a copper-brown.  Both sexes are tattooed, generally from the hips half down the legs, and frequently over the hands, feet, and other parts of the body; the devices being often very fanciful in design, and always artistically executed.