GUIANAN CLUBS — THE SAPAKANA AND POTU — WARFARE — CANNIBALISM — THE SHELL MOUND AND ITS CONTENTS — RISE AND FALL OF THE CARIB TRIBE — BLOOD FEUDS — THE KANAIMA AND ITS RESULTS — A STRANGE SUPERSTITION — THE GUIANAN VAMPIRE — WAR WITH THE ARAWÂKS — INGENIOUS STRATEGY — THE AMBUSH — THE FORT AND THE BOOM — CAPTURE OF THE CHIEF AND END OF THE WAR.

We will now pass to their clubs, in which, as well as in the arrows, can be read the characteristics of their makers: some of them are wonderful examples of savage art. The specimens which are shown in an illustration on the preceding page are all drawn from examples in the “Christy” collection.

Those on the right are examples of the kind of club which is called Sapakana. They are made of the heaviest and hardest wood which the native can find, and some of them are so large and heavy that they require a strong man to wield them. The blade is formed something like that of the New Zealand merai, being slightly convex in the middle, and coming to an edge on either side, so that it is as formidable a weapon as can well be imagined.

In order to give a firm grasp, the handle is covered with cotton string wound upon it very neatly, afterward being ornamented with feathers and similar decorations. As the heads of these clubs are very much alike, I have only given one entire, and the handles of two others. The central is the most highly ornamented, having tufts of brilliant green feathers just at the junction of the head and the handle, and below the feathers a series of white balls made of cotton-wool. The reader will doubtless admire the elaborate pattern in which the cotton string is wound upon the handle. One of these weapons in my own collection very much resembles that which has been already described, except that, instead of the feathers and cotton-wool balls, it is ornamented with a series of long trailing tufts made of cotton fibre.

At the present time the use of these beautiful clubs is practically abandoned, the musket having superseded the native weapons, so that the clubs, although they are still manufactured, are made for sale, and not for use.

Next comes a club which is used by the Caribs. It carries out fully the principle which has just been mentioned respecting the ratio between the ornament of the weapon and the warlike spirit of the user. This club is comparatively plain, being meant for use and not for show. The makers call it by the name of Potu, and it is evidently a modification of the “macana” club of the Gran Chaco Indians. To the eye it seems no very powerful weapon, but its weight, form, and balance render it capable of dashing out the brains of a man with a single blow. There is generally a wrapping of cotton string round the middle, so as to afford a firm grip, and a loop made of the same material, which passes over the wrist. A modification of the potu is shown in the left-hand specimen.

The very shape of the potus proves that they are meant to be used by a courageous and warlike people. As a rule the instinct of a really courageous people is to “get at” the adversary, while that of an unwarlike people is to keep the foe at a distance.

As to warfare and the mode of conducting it, there is considerable variation in the different tribes, some being peaceable and quiet, while others are just the reverse. The most warlike tribe among them is undoubtedly the Carib, of which Raleigh wrote that they were a naked people, but as valiant as any under the sky.

The Caribs were at that time the most important of the Guianan tribes, having earned their prominence by their weapons. If they quarrelled with another tribe, they were accustomed to make an expedition into the enemy’s land by night, surround in succession their scattered villages, kill all the men, and take the women and children prisoners. Some of these captives were employed as slaves among themselves, and by degrees became incorporated with the tribe of their captors, while others were reserved for sale. They did not, however, restrict themselves to this kind of secret expedition, but openly made war with other tribes, and boasted that they would paddle their canoes against the stream, so that the enemy might hear them coming and not be taken by surprise.

There seems to be little doubt that the Caribs were at one time cannibals, though at the present day there is great difficulty in getting them to acknowledge the fact. The former cannibalism of these tribes was easily continued by some discoveries which were made in a large mound situated on a sand reef, some ten or twelve miles from the sea.

Thinking that this mound might be a kitchen midden similar to those which are found in many parts of the Old World, Mr. Brett instituted a search, and found that, like these mounds, the heap consisted chiefly of shells, mostly those of mussels and periwinkles, together with the claws and shells of crabs, and some bones of fishes and land vertebrates. At no very great depth from the surface, the excavators came upon a vast quantity of human bones, the skulls shattered to pieces, and the bones of the arms and legs split longitudinally.

To an experienced eye this state of the bones told its own story. The bones were not laid regularly, as they would have been if they had been the remains of bodies regularly interred, but were tossed about in confusion, the fragments of skulls, vertebrae, and limbs being scattered here and there without the least order. The story which these remains tell is simple enough. They are the bones of human beings who have been eaten by their fellow-men, which, after being cracked for the sake of the marrow, have been flung aside, together with the shells of molluscs and other refuse. That this horrid custom was common to all the tribes at one time seems very probable, but the Caribs are the last to whom cannibalism has been attributed.

Like the Mundurucús, the Caribs had an ordeal consisting in enduring the bites of ants. They had no hereditary chief, though the son of a chief would succeed his father if he were considered to possess sufficient ability and courage. Even in such a case, the candidate for chieftainship had to prove his superiority over his fellows by his capability of bearing privations as well as torture. He was required to show that he was acquainted with all the stratagems of war, that he could endure long fasting, that he was of unflinching courage, and that he could resist even the terrible ordeal of the ants, and not until he had satisfactorily passed through all those trials did the tribe lay their weapons at his feet in token of their submission to him.

We may naturally feel some surprise that a people who exhibit such an indomitable spirit, and such a love of freedom, who have overrun vast tracts of territory and successfully resisted even the well-armed and disciplined troops of Europe, should not have advanced in the scale of civilization, but have remained as savage at the present day as we know them to have been three hundred years ago. Mr. Brett, whose personal knowledge of them enables him to speak with authority, gives his solution of the question as follows:—

“There arose among them no master spirit, who, combining the wisdom of the legislator with the bravery of the warrior, might have established humane and civilizing institutions among his people, and permanently united their scattered hordes. In great emergencies the necessity for united action led them accordingly to follow, and implicitly obey, some one of their chiefs, invested by themselves with superior authority, like a dictator of ancient Rome. But at other times each petty head of a clan or family moved and acted in a great measure as he pleased, there being no actual power nor hereditary authority sufficiently respected to command the obedience of all.

“Having thus no permanent band of cohesion, their wild hordes could only fight, overrun, oppress, and destroy, and in their highest prosperity were incapable of accomplishing any great and useful work which might have remained as their memorial to future ages.”

In consequence of the want of leadership, the Carib tribe, once the greatest, and perhaps the origin of all the Guianan tribes, is steadily decreasing, and, valiant as they may be, they are no longer the terror of the other tribes, as they used to be. Indeed, during their feud with the Acawaios, in which they have been engaged for a long time, the Caribs have by no means been the winners. They have even been obliged to quit their own district, and settle themselves near the missionary stations for protection.

The same author who has just been quoted mentions several instances which show the failing power of the Caribs. On one occasion a Carib chief came to live at the mission station because he had found that a party of Acawaios, painted and equipped for war, were lurking near his home in the forest. Even in his place of refuge he was not safe from his enemies. One evening the village was disturbed by loud outcries, and it was found that a son-in-law of the chief had been seriously hurt, and was lying in his hammock, writhing with the pain of a blow which he had received. He had wandered to some little distance from the house, when he caught sight of an Acawaio behind him. He turned round, sprang upon the enemy, and threw his arms round him; but the man was too strong, hurled him to the ground, and, as he fell, struck the blow which had caused him to take to his hammock.

The whole Carib party was in great confusion and terror for some time, but at last it turned out that the attack was in consequence of a personal feud with the wounded man. Two years before, his father had been assassinated by the Acawaios, and he very naturally used his bow and arrows in a vain attempt to save his father’s life. This act drew upon him the vengeance of the Acawaios, who marked him for death whenever they could find an opportunity of killing him. He had fled from the Essequibo to Pomeroon, but uselessly, and was advised by the missionary to go to the coast and procure employment on one of the sugar estates, where his enemies would not be likely to follow.

Sometimes a blood feud is caused by a superstitious practice called Kanaima. A person dies, and the medicine man decides that the death has been caused by some one who has used sorcery for the purpose of taking away his life. The supposed wizard is then doomed to die, and a near relative of the deceased is set apart for the purpose of carrying out the sentence. He is supposed to be possessed by a wandering spirit called Kanaima, and is called by that name until the deed of vengeance is accomplished. During the time of possession, the Kanaima has to suffer many privations, so that the mere wish to be restored to his ordinary life acts as an incentive to the fulfilment of his office.

The mode of killing a victim according to the Kanaima superstition is a very cruel one. He is approached from behind (as was the case with the young Carib above-mentioned); and if the slayer can come within reach, the victim is struck down with a blow on the back of his neck. This blow is not meant to be fatal, and is only hard enough to cause insensibility for a time. The Kanaima then forces open his victim’s mouth, and presses through his tongue the fangs of a venomous serpent. The tongue immediately swells to such an extent as to prevent the unfortunate wretch from speaking, and in the course of a day or two to end his life. Sometimes the Kanaima is said to substitute for the serpent’s fangs a poisonous powder, made for the express purpose, and kept in a little tube made of the wing-bone of a bird. The preparation of this powder is a secret, handed down from father to son.

The task of the Kanaima is not yet ended. Three days after the burial of the victim, the murderer must visit the grave and go through some ceremony, before the Kanaima spirit departs and allows the man to return to his friends. The natives are very chary of their knowledge on this subject, but, as far as can be ascertained, the Kanaima presses a pointed stick through the body, tastes the blood, and by that act is relieved from the spirit of murder.

The friends of the victim, therefore, always endeavor to conceal the place of burial, and it is the duty of the murderer to hover about the place so that they shall not be able to inter the body without his knowledge. Should the friends be successful, the vengeance is reversed, for the unfortunate Kanaima is obliged to wander through the woods until he is afflicted with madness, or some other form of vengeance whereby the spirit of murder punishes those who have not carried out his wishes.

Mr. Brett witnessed several instances of this dreadful mode of punishment, and in one case had little doubt that he had come upon a Kanaima who had been unable to find the body of his victim. “An Indian, reduced almost to a skeleton, and in a dreadful state of exhaustion, was picked up in the forest by some Arawâk, and brought to the Pomeroon mission. He had lost a portion of his scalp, and had his lower lip torn down at each corner. This he said had been done by a small ‘tiger,’ which had sprung on him while lying in the forest....

“The Acawaios at the mission, whose language he spoke, took much care of him at first, but afterward judged, from his refusing certain kinds of food and other signs, that he was a devotee and victim of unappeased Kanaima, and the murderer of a man killed some time before. From this, and his savage, ungrateful demeanor (though Mr. M’Clintock aided by myself, cleansed and dressed his sores to encourage them), we had some difficulty in getting him nursed till his strength had returned, as they feared lest they should become his future victims.”

If the friends of the murdered man fear that they will not be able to conceal the body effectually, they remove the liver, and put in its place a redhot axe-head, under the belief that when the Kanaima tastes the blood of his victim, the heat which was in the axe-head will pass into his body and consume him.

Putting aside private feud, the Caribs have of late been beaten by the other tribes in open war. They had been partially successful against the Arawâks, who had been driven into the swampy district near the Waini. Here, however, the fugitives made a stand, and placed themselves under the supreme command of a well-known and tried warrior. Expecting that the Caribs would soon follow them into their place of refuge, their leader placed his men in ambush among the islands, and awaited the coming of the enemy.

On came the Caribs in their great war canoes, following each other in single file through the narrow creeks which separate the “wet savannah” into islands. They were allowed to pass unhurt, until they rounded one of the islands, when a deadly shower of arrows from both banks disabled or killed every man on board. The second canoe pushed on, only to meet the same fate, while the others, not being able to see the carnage that was taking place, hurried onward toward the spot whence the cries proceeded, and were in their turn overwhelmed with the deadly shower. The victorious Arawâks then jumped into the water, seized the canoes, and killed every one of the warriors with the exception of two. These were sent home by the victors on the promise of a large ransom, to be paid in the cotton hammocks for the manufacture of which the Caribs are so famous; and an insulting message was also sent by them, requesting the Caribs to send another expedition.

On land the Caribs fared as badly against the same foes as they had done by sea. Being determined to resist the continual attacks of the Caribs, the Arawâks made up their minds to fly no more to the swamps for safety, but to boldly face their enemies. They therefore built a large house on the banks of a rivulet, surrounded it with trees laid with their branches outward—in fact, the abattis of modern engineering—and stored the house with as many arrows as they could make. Moreover, they made broad wooden shields, which were used on this occasion for the first and probably for the last time.

As had been anticipated, the Caribs were not very long in making their attack. Seeing a small party of men among the trees, they gave chase and pursued them as far as the house, which they immediately attacked. The defenders did not return the fire of the Caribs, but contented themselves with receiving on their shields the arrows of the enemy. When they judged that the arrows of the foe were nearly exhausted, they made use of their own stores, and poured volley after volley on the invaders, being supplied by the women and boys with arrows as fast as they could shoot. The Caribs were unable to withstand such an attack, and were obliged to beat a retreat, during which they lost many more of their number by the pursuing Arawâks.

The two last decisive battles between these great tribes ended again in favor of the Arawâks. The latter established themselves on the banks of a branch of the river Moruca, a stream which is thickly wooded on both sides. The name of this branch is Haimara-Cabura. Across this stream the Arawâks sank a tree trunk at such a depth that it would allow small canoes to pass over it, while the large and heavily-laden war-canoes must inevitably strike upon it.

The invaders came, as had been expected, but found nothing except empty houses. They then descended the Moruca, looking about for their prey, and at last caught sight of several canoes and gave chase. The fugitive canoes, on reaching the mouth of the Haimara-Cabura, darted into it as if for shelter, and were followed by the invaders, yelling and shouting with excitement. Suddenly, their canoes struck violently against the sunken boom, jerked the paddles from their places, became entangled with each other, and caused inextricable confusion. In the midst of their perplexity, showers of arrows were hurled upon them, and very few of the invading force escaped.

Among them, however, was the Carib chief Manarrawa, who was incensed at the repulse with which he had met, returned to the Orinoco, organized another force, and again attacked the Arawâks. This time he was less fortunate, being wounded and taken prisoner. On being brought before the council of chiefs, Manarrawa promised that, if his life was spared, he would cause his people to cease from further attacks. The Arawâks, more lenient than the Caribs, granted his request, gave him a canoe, and sent him home. He, on his part, performed his promise, and from that time there has been no regular war between the Caribs and Arawâks, although there have been private blood feuds of the kind described.