CHAPTER VI.

CONTRABAND.

WHEN I expressed the simple truism to M. Edmond that business was business, I was not aware that the male population of these parts consisted mainly of two divisions: one, the farmers and hunters as systematic smugglers; the other, paid officers of the government ostensibly protecting the revenue, but really coadjutors of the smugglers, aiding and abetting them by purposely appearing at the wrong place at the right time, or the right place at the wrong time.

Every merchant in Maturin and Cumana dealt in wholesale contraband; and when a gentleman and a don accepted the office and paltry pay of captain of the revenue guards (capitan de resguardos), it was understood that his fortune was to be made. A regular tariff was known to exist, stating the captain's share of the bribe, and the share of each

subaltern guard on duty for the day. The packages of merchandise destined for this trade were all of a size and weight to be carried conveniently, each by a man, through the bush, the stronger men sometimes taking two packs. They consisted chiefly of the costliest articles in linen, silks, boots, and cotton fabrics.

Sometimes a cargo was allowed to be properly reported and the duties paid.

For decency's sake, occasionally, a half-dozen bales of the least expensive articles, especially selected for the purpose, were allowed to be seized to evince the vigilance and fidelity of the officers.

The captains of smugglers were not always faithful to the understood arrangement. Whenever they could avoid the officers of customs they infringed the fundamental law of their class, "honour among thieves," by appropriating their own wages and the share pertaining to the guards, laughing at the powerless threats of those officers. With them honesty was only second best policy, and honour they knew only as a convenient word, as Shakspeare saith,

"The mere word's a slave,

Debauch'd on every tomb; on every grave,

A lying trophy; and as oft is dumb,

Where dust and damn'd oblivion, is the tomb
Of honour'd bones indeed."

I had the honour once of being for four days, sole travelling companion of Juan Pinado, at one time reputed the most daring and dangerous of smugglers, and professionally a fisherman. He was now a respectable "resguardo," revenue officer, and his chief work was to await about the embouchure and coasts, the expected return of the vessels, and in the interests of his confreres of the guards, more than of the government, prevent if possible, all independent smuggling.

Juan Pinado was a short thick-set Moreno (Indian and negro), very sun-burnt. He had a pleasant tone of voice.

With the serio-comic

manner which some old seamen possess, he could keep a company roaring with laughter, or with a quiet nonchalance make one's blood curdle with his relation of daring and bloody deeds of which he had been actor or spectator. Although I shall never forget this man, nor rid myself of the peculiar

River Travelling.

57

feelings always associated with his memory, yet for the life of me I cannot now remember any one of his narratives, owing, perhaps, to an attack of a three-weeks' fever and insensibility which terminated my journey with him.

The custom in river-travelling here is to secure, if possible, a comfortable night-lodging in an inhabited rancheria, where the inmates are always glad to talk with passers-by of the gossip of the district and the state of the market. It is especially pleasant to be fellow-sojourner for the night with the crew of one or more alijos, or lighters, taking cargo up to Maturin. In such In such case, after the usual salutations and conversation, the hostess invites one or other of the company to produce his bandola: coffee and cassava are served, a quota sometimes of sugar or coffee, or whatever might be wanted to complete her cheer, coming from the boats. Singing commences, and sometimes a dance by one or two men, often the host and hostess joining.

With Juan Pinado, or, as he was called, Juan Pinao, it was not the rule, but the exception. We

either passed good places at evening, or came to them at early morning, sleeping three nights out of the four on the banks of the river, our chin

choras suspended from two trees. I think Juan Pinado was taking despatches to Maturin: but he made the journey as long as he could, that he might catch fish to sell to the towns-people, it being Lent. The fish he caught were salted, and dried in smoke.

One morning we had the brain of the sting ray, rayo, with cassavae bread for breakfast, and a very delicious breakfast it was. It was prepared with black pepper, salt, onions, and garlic chipped up and mixed with a wheaten biscuit pulverised. Pinado's possession of these condiments surprised me; they proved him to be both an epicure and an experienced traveller. The mixture was well wrapped up in casipo, or a kind of wild plantain leaf, and tied with a string made from its bark, then placed under the hot ashes of our fire.

His gun belonged to the government. It was a rare specimen of the antique, a flint piece, one of a quantity of military stores, which being found