# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1933_S114
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

114

THE LUTHERAN PIONEER

Among a Forgotten People in Brazil.

Three hundred miles from the nearest white
man’s habitation the nose of my dugout canoe
grazed the edge of a clean, broad sand bank of the
beautiful Araguaya River.

At about latitude 12 degrees S., facing the great
fluvial island of Bananal, the small Caraja Indian
village of Capitao Joao pursues the fairly even
tenor of its way, far from the disturbing haunts of
the white man and with very much the same con-
ception of life and its duties and pleasures as that

South American Indians.

held by the predecessors of four centuries ago, ere
the paleface drove them from the far-away shores of
Brazil, where they had hitherto reigned supreme.

The redskins who then inhabited this coast were
driven back only after many a bloody contest with
the invaders, and time and again the battle turned
in their favor, and the trained Portuguese soldiery
gave way before them. But it was only to renew
the struggle under more favorable circumstances,
and it is certain that the Indians owe their final
subjection as much to the astute diplomacy of the
Jesuit monks as to the arms of the invaders them-
selves. :
This Indian village, with its rather neat and

regular row of ten huts, or cabins, of green withes
and palm-leaves, seemed half deserted, and only
a small group of women and children and half a
dozen stalwart, highly colored warriors greeted our
arrival.

At first my own presence seemed quite over-
looked in the excitement and joy on their recogniz-
ing in my pilot their long-lost relative Odidi. More
than a year had passed since he had left his native
village on a journey to sce the white man’s world,
a journey which had finally landed him on our
home in Goyaz City, on the headwaters of one of
the Araguaya tributaries, where there is an outpost
station of the Evangelical Union of South America.
Here he was back again, with a great deal of super-
fluous clothing, a straw hat, a very extraordinary
collar and tie, and an old alpaca jacket, which he
had specially brought with him from Goyaz as
trophies of civilization with which to dazzle the eyes
of his numerous and worthy relatives.

His completely unclad brethren gathered around
in very critical array, and Odidi seemed vastly
ashamed of his shirt and hung his head. His little
cousins, however, thoroughly enjoyed themselves,
literally dancing round him with glee, frequently
stopping to examine, in a very embarrassing way,
every detail, every button, of his modest outfit.
When, however, his hat was removed and it was
seen that his long black hair was cropped, a kind
of shudder went around the long-haired group, and
shortly afterward I saw them trying to trim up
what remained more to their liking.

The majority of the inhabitants, including the
chief (Capitao Joao), were away on one of their
usual fishing and hunting expeditions. For this
their sole and sufficient equipment is the bow and
arrow, which is as convenient for shooting a fish
as for spearing a chameleon or landing a wild
duck; for their skill with the weapon is amazing. |

A White Man’s Advent.

After a while my presence was noticed, and for
some time I was eyed in much the sanfe way as the
small boy first gazes at a grizzly bear; and the
Caraja children, with queer little cries, ran for
protection behind their mothers, who looked rather
scared themselves. And yet I was not half so
civilized-looking as Odidi, with my bare legs and
crumpled panama, in which the parrots had bitten
two big holes. I was nearly as red as an Indian
with sunburn and looked as near like a savage as
I knew how; but even the great scarlet macaws
perched on the cabin tops detected an impostor and