In truth, in these woods a thousand objects attract the eye, each a world of varied vegetation in itself; while the ear listens to the quick rustling breeze moving the palm-leaves fifty feet or more above the head,—not like the slow gathering, rushing wind among the pine-trees in northern climes, but like rapidly running water. Now an immense butterfly of the most vivid blue comes sailing by to alight on a neighbouring shrub, when, suddenly folding his azure wings out of sight, it looks merely like some brown moth spotted with white.

As evening comes on, in some districts a strange confusion of sounds is heard, as from a crowd of men shouting loudly at a distance. Now it seems like the barking of dogs, then like that of many voices calling in different keys, but all loud, varied, excited, full of emphasis; and yet, after all, the rioters are but the frogs and toads uttering their usual notes.

The Seringa or India-Rubber Tree.

Along the whole extent of the submerged region on the banks of the Amazon, beginning at a distance of about fifty miles from Para, as well as on the shores of many of its tributaries, grows a tree with bark and foliage not unlike that of the European ash. The trunk, however, shoots up to an immense height before throwing off branches. It is the valuable seringa-tree (Siphonia elastica), belonging to the family Euphorbia, which produces india-rubber. As soon as the waters after the rainy season have subsided, the natives go forth in parties to procure the sap with large bowls, clay moulds, pans in which to collect it, and axes for cutting the wood for their fires. They build their huts in the neighbourhood of the trees.

The first business is to make gashes in the bark, keeping them open by pegs, under which they place little clay cups, or shells. Each person has a certain number of trees under his charge. Every morning he goes round, and pours what has collected in the cups into a large bowl. The sap is at first of the consistency of cream, but it soon thickens. The moulds, which are generally in the form of bottles, are then dipped into the liquid. As soon as the coating is dried, the mould is again dipped in, and the same process is gone through for several days. The substance is at this time hard and white. Meantime fires are made with the nuts of several species of palms—the inaja and others. These produce a thick black smoke. The india-rubber is then passed several times through it. By this means a dark colour and the proper consistency are obtained. The moulds being broken, the clay is poured out, and the material is ready for the market.

Sometimes it is formed in large flat pieces; and of late years it has been preserved in a liquid state in hermetically closed vessels.

The seringa-tree differs greatly from the group of plants which furnish the caoutchouc of Africa and the West Indies; the latter being the product of certain species of ficus of a climbing character, and inferior to the india-rubber of South America.

THE COW-TREE.

Among the noblest of the forest monarchs appears a tree with deeply-scored reddish and ragged bark. Who would have supposed that from that vast trunk would issue a milky liquid scarcely distinguishable at first from that of the cow? Yet such is the sap coming from the opening made by the axe from the massaranduba or cow-tree. When fresh it serves every purpose of real milk when mixed with coffee; but drunk pure has a somewhat coarse taste—and it is considered dangerous to drink much of it, however refreshing a small quantity may be. It soon thickens, and forms a tenacious glue, which can be usefully employed in cementing crockery. A decoction of the bark is employed as a red dye for cloth. The fruit, also, is largely consumed; while the wood is excessively durable in water.

MONKEYS' DRINKING-CUPS—BRAZIL-NUT TREE.

Two lofty trees, closely allied to each other—the Lecythis ollaria and the Bertholletia excelsa—produce enormous capsules full of nuts. The first, called the sapucaya, yields these curious capsules known as cuyas de maccao, or monkeys' drinking-cups. At the top is a circular hole, to which a natural lid fits exactly. On the nuts becoming ripe the lid is loosened, and the heavy cup falling to the ground, the nuts are scattered far and wide, when they are eaten by numerous animals on the watch for them. The collectors, therefore, have difficulty in obtaining them. The other tree, known as the Brazil-nut tree, produces similar wooden vessels; but as they have no lid, they fall entire to the ground, and are thus preserved till human beings come to collect them, when they are shipped to England and other parts of the world.

THE VICTORIA REGIA.

On the surface of the tranquil pools, amid the recesses of the forest, float the wide-spreading circular leaves of the magnificent Victoria regia, like vast dishes—their edges turned up all round—with beautiful flowers rising amid them. The colour varies from the velvety white outer petals through every shade of rose to the deepest crimson, and fading again to a creamy yellowish tint in the heart of the flower. The natives call it the forno do piosoca, or oven of the jacana—the leaves being like that of the baking-pans, or ovens, on which the mandioca meal is roasted. The leaf rises from the root at the bottom of the pool, on a stock armed with sharp spines.

When young, the leaf may be seen in the form of a deep cup or vase surrounded with ribs, at that time comparatively small, the whole green expanse of the adult leaf covered in between them in regular rows of puffings. As the ribs grow their ramifications stretch out in every direction, the leaflets one by one unfolding to fill the ever-widening spaces; till at last, when it reaches the surface of the water, it rests horizontally above it without a wrinkle—the colossal leaf being thus supported by a heavy scaffold of ribs beneath it, sufficient not only to support the light-stepping jacana, but even a young child. Some of the leaves have a diameter of from four to five feet; some may grow even to a larger size.

"Here, seen in its own home, it has in addition to its own beauties the charm of harmony with all that surrounds it," observes Mrs Agassiz,—"with the dense mass of forest, with palm and parasite, with birds of glowing plumage, with insects of all bright and wonderful tints, and with fishes which, though hid in the water beneath it, are not less brilliant and varied than the world of life above."

PALMS.

Almost countless are the varieties of trees in the Amazonian forests, and wonderful the diversity in their combination. Rarely is the soil found occupied for any extent by the same kind of tree. A vast proportion are yet unknown to science. The palms surpass in number and variety all their sylvan brethren. They differ wonderfully in form and size: some, sturdy giants towering up towards the sky with wide-spreading branches; others, delicate little pigmies with slender stems and small broom-like crowns; while others assume the form of creepers, and wind in many folds round the supporting trunks of other trees.

"Among them are four essentially different forms:—the tall ones, with a slender and erect stem, terminating with a crown of long feathery leaves, or with broad fan-shaped leaves," remarks Professor Agassiz; "the bushy ones, the leaves of which rise, as it were, in tufts from the ground, the stem remaining hidden under the foliage; the brush-like ones, with a small stem, and a few rather large leaves; and the winding, creeping, slender species. Their flowers and fronds are as varied as their stalks. Some of these fruits may be compared to large woody nuts with a fleshy mass inside, others have a scaly covering, others resemble peaches or apricots, while others, still, are like plums or grapes. Most of them are eatable, and rather pleasant to the taste."

Among the most beautiful is the mauritia, or miriti, with pendent clusters of reddish fruit; its enormous, spreading, fan-like leaves cut into ribbons. Contrasted with it appears the manicaria, or the bussu, with stiff entire leaves, some thirty feet in length, almost upright, and very close in their mode of growth, and serrated all along their edges. The leaves all sprout from, a comparatively short stem.

More curious is the raphia, with plume-like leaves, sometimes from forty to fifty feet in length, starting also from a short stem—almost from the ground. Its vase-like form is peculiarly graceful and symmetrical.

Among the most curious is the pashiuba barrigudo, or bulging-stemmed palm (Iriartea ventricosa); which, rising on a pyramid of roots for several feet, runs up in a single column for some distance, and then swells in a curious spindle-form, again to assume the same proportions as below, till its head spreads out in several fan-like branches with web-shaped leaflets. The tree looks as if supported on stilts, and a person can stand upright among the roots of old trees with the perpendicular stem above his head. These roots have the form of straight rods, and are studded with stout thorns, whilst the trunk is quite smooth. The purpose of this curious arrangement is probably to recompense the tree by root-growth above the soil for its inability, in consequence of the competition of neighbouring roots, to extend itself underground.

Here, too, grows the slender and graceful assai-palm, with its perfectly smooth trunk,—the fruit appearing in a heavy cluster of berries just below the cluster of leaves on its summit. The stem is hard and tough as horn, and is much made use of, when split into narrow planks, for the construction of walls and flooring of houses.

The fruit is about the size of a cranberry, and of a dark brown colour. When boiled and crushed it yields a quantity of juice of about the consistency of chocolate, somewhat of the colour of blackberry juice, when it has a sweetish taste—and is eaten, made into cakes with the flour of the mandioca root. From it also is formed the favourite beverage of the people. To obtain the fruit, the native fastens a strip of palm-leaves round his instep, thus binding his feet together, to enable him to climb the slippery trunk, which he does with wonderful rapidity, to obtain the fruit at its summit.

Wherever a native village exists, there are seen growing in clusters, beautiful ornaments beside the palm-thatched huts, the tall and elegant pupunha, or peach palm—Guilielma speciosa—to the height of sixty feet, and often perfectly straight. A single bunch of the fruit weighs as much as a man can carry, and on each tree several are borne. It takes its name from the colour of the fruit, not from its flavour or nature, for it is dry and mealy, and may be compared in taste to a mixture of chestnuts and cheese. It is eagerly devoured by vultures, who come in quarrelsome flocks to the trees when it is ripe. Dogs often feed on it. It is one of the few trees which the natives brought with them, it is said, from their original home, and have here cultivated from time immemorial. The fruit, when boiled, is nearly as mealy as a potato; and in perfection is the size of a large peach. It is generally supposed that there is more nutriment in the fruit than in fish,—about a dozen forming a meal for a grown-up person. The leaves of its crown are evenly arched over, forming a deep green vault—the more beautiful from the rich colour of the foliage. When the heavy cluster of ripe red fruit hangs under its dark vault, the tree is in its greatest beauty.

The palms are among the most characteristic features of tropical scenery. The variety of their forms, fruit, foliage, and flowers is perfectly bewildering, and yet as a group their character is unmistakable. On the whole, no family of trees is more similar; generically and specifically, none is more varied. Their leaves follow the simple arrangement of those of grasses, in which the leaves are placed alternately on opposite sides of the stem, thus dividing the space round it in halves. As the stem of the branches elongates, these pairs of leaves are found scattered along its length, and it is only in the ears, or spikes of some genera, that we find them growing so compactly on the axis as to form a close head.

Of this law of growth the palm known as the baccaba is an admirable illustration, its leaves being disposed in pairs one above another at the summit of the stem, but in such immediate contact as to form a thick crown. Its appearance is in consequence totally different from any other palm, except perhaps the jacitara, which has a slender, winding stem. Sometimes the crown is more open, as in the inaja—Maximiliana regia—in which the stem is not very high, and the leaves grow in cycles of five, separating slightly, so as to form an open vase rising from a slender stem.

Professor Agassiz remarks that the rest of this tropical forest is as interesting to the geologist as to the botanist, as it reveals to him its relation to the vegetable world of past ages, showing those laws of growth which unite the past and the present.

The tree-ferns—the chamaerops, the pandanus, the araucarias—are modern representatives of past types. The former is a palm belonging to the ancient vegetable world, but having its representative in our days. The modern chamaerops, with its fan-like leaves spreading on one level, stands, with respect to its structure, lower than the palms with pinnate leaves, which belong almost exclusively to our geological age, and have numerous leaflets ranging along either side of a central axis. The young palms, while their elders tower fifty feet above them, are often not more than two inches high; and to whatever genus they may belong, invariably resemble the chamaerops,—having their leaves extending fan-like on one plane, instead of being scattered along a central axis, as in the adult tree. The infant palm is, in fact, the mature chamaerops in miniature; showing that among plants, as among animals—at least in some instances—there is a correspondence between the youngest stages of growth in the higher species of a given type, and the earliest introduction of that type on earth.

More gregarious in their habits than most other palms are the urucuri palms—Attalea excelsa—groves of which beautify the higher lands, and grow in vast numbers under the crowns of the more lofty ordinary forest-trees; their smooth columnar stems being generally fifty feet in height, while their broad, finely pinnated leaves, interlocking above, form arches and woven canopies of elegant and diversified shapes. The fruit, in size and shape like the date, has a pleasant flavoured juicy pulp, and falls to the ground when ripe.



PART THREE, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

THE WONDERS OF THE WATERS.

THE MANATEE, OR COW-FISH.

To maintain the claim of its ocean character, the Amazon possesses that huge, whale-like creature the manatee, or cow-fish, called by the Brazilians peixe boi, or vacca marina. It is generally about seven or eight feet long, though it attains a length of ten feet or more, and nine feet and upwards in girth. On the upper part the body is perfectly smooth, and of a lead colour. It tapers off towards the tail, which is flat, horizontal, and semicircular, without any appearance of hind-limbs. The head is in reality small, and the neck undistinguishable; though it has an enormous mouth, with fleshy lips like those of a huge cow, with an ugly countenance. On the lips are stiff bristles, while a few hairs only are scattered over the body. Just behind the head are two powerful oval fins, beneath which, in the female, are the breasts. The ears are very minute holes, and the eyes are extremely small. The skin of the back is fully an inch thick; and beneath it is a layer of fat, also an inch or more in thickness. The fins of the fore-limbs consist of bones exactly corresponding to those of the human arm, with five fingers at the extremity—every joint distinct, although completely encased in its thick inflexible skin.

The manatee ranges from the mouth of the Amazon to the upper waters. It feeds on the grass growing on the borders of the lakes and rivers. It swims at a rapid rate, moved by the tail and paddles. The creature is hunted and killed by the natives with harpoons, the flesh being much sought after. The taste is somewhat between that of pork and beef. The natives dress it by cutting the meat into small pieces and sticking them on skewers, which they place in a slanting position over the flames to roast.

The female produces one, though sometimes two at a birth, which she holds in her paddles while giving suck. From twenty to twenty-five gallons of oil are obtained from each sea-cow. The poor manatee, little able to defend itself, has other enemies besides man. The jaguar lies in wait for it on the trunk of a tree overhanging the placid pool, and seizing it with his powerful claws as it swims by, holds it in a vice-like grasp, from which in spite of its strength it in vain endeavours to escape.

Those who have voyaged on the ocean, know the solemn feeling and the idea of vastness which is conveyed during a calm at night, when monsters of the deep are heard far and near as they come to the surface to inhale the air, or "blow," as it is called. The same feeling is experienced by the traveller up the Amazon when on board his montaria at anchor, when he hears the splashing and snorting sounds of its numerous inhabitants, as they rise through the mirror-like plain, in which countless thousands of bright stars are reflected. Here fresh-water dolphins roam in great numbers. In the Lower Amazon are two species; one of which,—the tucuxi,—when it comes to the surface to breathe, rises horizontally, showing first the back of its fin, and then, drawing an inspiration, generally diving down head-foremost; and another, called the bonto by the natives. When it rises, it first shows the top of the head, and then floating onwards, immediately afterwards dips its head downwards, its back curving over—exposing successively the whole dorsal ridge without showing the tail-fin; the well-known mode in which the sea-porpoise swims, which makes it appear to pitch head over heels. The natives regard the bonto or largest species with especial awe, and will never kill one voluntarily. Though their fat yields an excellent oil for lamps, they believe that blindness would result from its use.

The bonto is supposed to possess the characteristic of the malign water-nymphs of the Old World. They have a legend that a bonto was in the custom of assuming the shape of a beautiful woman, with hair hanging loose down to her heels; who, going on shore, endeavoured to entice young men to the river. When any unhappy youth, smitten with her charms, was induced to follow her to the water's edge, she would grasp her victim round the waist, and plunging beneath the waves with a triumphant shriek, disappeared with him for ever.

PIRANHA.

There are several kinds of piranha, many of which abound in the waters of the Tapajos. The piranha, called also the caribe, is a kind of salmon (Tetragonopterus). They are caught with any kind of bait, their taste being indiscriminate, and their appetite most ravenous. They frequently attack the legs of bathers near the shore, inflicting severe wounds with their strong triangular teeth.

THE DIODON.

The smaller inhabitants of the ocean are also represented in these fresh-waters. The little mamayacu, a species of diodon, which in the ocean attains a foot in length, is found in the Amazon three or four inches long, of a pretty green colour, banded with black. On being caught—which it easily is—it becomes in the hand as round as a ball. The natives, when a person gets corpulent, tell him that he has grown as fat as a mamayacu.

The ocean species, from having the skin about the abdomen looser than that above, floats, when it becomes distended with air, with its back downwards. It can thus move about as rapidly as in its usual position, by aid of its pectoral fins. By the movement of its jaws it makes a curious noise, and can give with its sharp teeth a severe bite. The skin is also covered with small spikes, which, when thus inflated, become erect and pointed.

It thus, though at first sight looking as helpless as can be, is well able to defend itself.

The diodon has been known to be swallowed alive by a shark, in whose stomach it was found floating, probably supported by the air with which it had become inflated. It is asserted that it also frequently eats its way, not only through the coats of the shark's stomach, but through the sides of the monster, which is thus killed. Probably the little diodon of the Amazon has a similar means of revenging itself on the voracious monsters to whom it falls a prey; and though it might not be able to liberate itself through the scaly back of an alligator, it would inevitably kill the monster, or cause him such pain as to make him repent having swallowed so indigestible a morsel.

The magnificent pirarucu or anatto, of vast size, with its ornamental coat of mail, and broad large scales margined with bright red, peoples the waters in immense numbers. It is most frequently caught by the native fishermen; and when salted, forms the staple food of all classes on the banks of the Lower Amazon. It swims at great speed, and attains the length of eight feet when full-grown, and five feet in girth. The Indian name of pirarucu is given to it from the native words pira, fish, and urucu, red; in allusion, says Mr Bates, to the red colour of the borders of its scales.

Among the other fish most frequently caught are the surubim and piraepieua (species of Pimelodus); very handsome fishes, four feet in length, with flat spoon-shaped heads, and prettily spotted and striped skins—two long feelers hanging from each side of their jaws like trailing moustaches.

THE ACARA.

The larger animals which inhabit the mighty river and the network of streams and pools which surround it on both sides, have been described; but numerous smaller creatures dwell within it, equally curious, and many totally unlike those to be found in other parts of the world. It has generally been supposed that, of all creatures, fish are the most destitute of parental feelings, and that from the moment the eggs have been deposited in the sand or mud, they are allowed to struggle into existence as best they can, to do battle with their foes, and the numerous dangers to which they are exposed. In the acara, however, we have an example of parental care and watchfulness unrivalled by any terrestrial animal.

The male of this curious fish has a conspicuous protuberance on the forehead, wholly awanting in the female and the young. Somehow or other, the eggs of the female are conveyed into the mouth of the male, the bottom of which is lined by them, between the inner appendages of the branchial arches, and especially into a pouch formed by the upper pharyngeals, which they completely fill. They are there hatched; and the little ones, freed from the egg, are developed until they are in a condition to provide for their own existence. In their head there is a special lobe of the brain, similar to those of the triglas, which sends large nerves to that part of the gills protecting the young, thus connecting the care of the offspring with the organ of intelligence. In this curious cavity of the father's head the young fish are found in all stages of development,—the more advanced, a quarter of an inch long, and able to swim about, full of life and activity. These appear to exist outside the gills, within the cavity formed by the gill-coverts and the wide branchiostigal membrane. The eggs remain in the back part of the gills.

The parent's care does not appear to cease even when the young are fully developed, but he allows them to swim in and out, and try their powers, if not to search for food; and when danger appears, opens his mouth, when they all swim back again in a shoal, for safety. The natives assert that some species, at all events, are not actually developed in the parent's head, but are laid and hatched in the sand, the male and female watching carefully over them; and that the father only takes charge of them when they are hatched, and receives them within his mouth to protect them from danger. From the observations of Professor Agassiz, however, there is no doubt that in some species, at least, the whole process of development is begun and completed in the gill cavity.

The species which lay their eggs in the sand belong to the genera Hydrogonus and Choetobranchus. They build a kind of flat nest in the sand or mud, in which they deposit their eggs, hovering over them until the young are hatched.

Curious also is the little bill-fish—the lymnobellus—with its long beak.

Another fish (the anojas), common in the Amazon, takes shelter—for it cannot be said to build a nest—in a hollow log. It belongs to the genus Auchenipterus. Numbers of this fish are found crowded in dead logs at the bottom of the river. One examined by the Professor, was filled with fish of all sizes, from those several inches long to the tiniest young. The fish were so dexterously packed into the log from one end to the other, that it was impossible to get them out without splitting it open, when they were all found alive and in a perfectly good condition. They could not have been jammed artificially into the hollow wood in that way without injuring them.

ANABLEPS.

We have heard of blind fish, but here is one—called by the Indians tralhote, and known to naturalists as the Anableps tetraophthalmus, signifying "four-eyed"—possessing four eyes. A membraneous fold, enclosing the bulb of the eye, stretches across the pupil, dividing the visual apparatus into the upper and lower half; a curious formation, suited to the peculiar habits of the anableps. These fishes gather in shoals on the surface of the water, their heads resting partly above and partly below the surface, and they move by a leaping motion somewhat like that of frogs on land. Thus, half in and half out of the water, they require eyes adapted for seeing in both elements, and the arrangement described just meets this want.

THE PARROT-FISH.

The birds of the air have, in this region, their representatives in the water. Among them is the curious and handsome pirarara, or parrot-fish. It is a heavy, broad-headed creature, with a bony shield over the whole head. Its general colour is jet-black, its bright yellow sides deepening into orange here and there. The yellow fat of this fish has a curious property. The Indians assert that when parrots are fed upon it they become tinged with yellow, and they often use it to render their papagaios more variegated.

THE GYMNOTUS.

On the Amazonian waters is found the carapus, called by the Brazilians sarapo, belonging to the genus Gymnotus; though far smaller than the electric gymnotus. They are very numerous, and the most lively of the whole group. Their motions are winding and rapid, like those of the eel; but yet different, inasmuch as they do not glide quickly forward, but turn frequent somersaults, and constantly change their direction.

LOCALISATION OF FISH.

The researches of Professor Agassiz prove that the localisation of species of fish in these waters is peculiarly distinct and permanent, their migrations being very limited—consisting chiefly in removing from shallow to deeper waters, and from these to shallow again, at those seasons when the range of the shore in the same water-basin is affected by the rise and fall of the river. Thus, the fishes found at the bottom of a lake covering, perhaps, a square mile in extent when the waters are lowest, will appear near the shores of the same lake when, at the season of high-water, it extends over a much wider area. In the same way, fishes which gather near the mouth of a rivulet at the time of low-water, will be found as high as its origin at the period of high-water; and those which inhabit the larger igarapes on the sides of the Amazon, when they are swollen by the rise of the river, may be found in the Amazon itself when the stream is low. There is not a single fish known to ascend from the sea to the higher courses of the Amazon at certain seasons, and to return regularly to the ocean.

The striking limitation of species within different areas does not, however, exclude the presence of certain kinds of fish simultaneously throughout the whole Amazonian basin. The piraracu, for instance, is found everywhere from Peru to Para; and so are a few other species more or less extensively distributed over what may be considered distinct ichthyological fauna. But these wide-spread species are not migratory. They have normally and permanently a wide range—just as some terrestrial animals have an almost cosmopolitan character—while others are circumscribed within comparatively narrow limits.

Surprising indeed is the variety of species of fishes contained in the Amazonian basin. Professor Agassiz, during his expedition, collected nearly two thousand, "for the most part," as he observes—and which is still more surprising—"circumscribed within different limits, from Tabalinga to Para, where the waters differ neither in temperature, nor in the nature of their bed, nor in the vegetation along their borders. There are met with, from distance to distance, assemblages of fishes completely distinct from each other."

Still more curious, perhaps, is the intensity with which life is manifested in these waters. All the rivers in Europe, from the Tagus to the Volga, do not nourish a hundred and fifty species of fresh-water fishes; and yet in a little lake near Manaos, called Lago Hyanuary, the surface of which hardly covers four or five hundred square yards, more than two hundred distinct species were discovered, the greater part of which have not been observed elsewhere.

GYMNOTUS, OR ELECTRIC EEL.

In the forest pools, as well as in the marshy ponds and slow-flowing rivers of the Llanos, numbers of huge serpentlike heads may be seen bobbing above the surface; or a huge, thick-bodied, yellow, snake-like creature may be caught sight of gliding through the water. It is the gymnotus electricus, or electric eel,—one of the many curious inhabitants of this region,—from two to five, and even eight feet in length. Though really a fish, it resembles the eel, but is stouter in its proportions. It is nearly equal in thickness throughout. It has a rude, depressed, and obtuse head, and a compressed tail. So great is the electric power it possesses, that when in full vigour it is able to kill the largest animal, when it can unload its electric organs in a favourable direction. All other fish, knowing by instinct the deadly effects of its stroke, fly from the formidable gymnotus. When fish are struck, or any animals which enter the pools inhabited by gymnoti—to drink, or cool their bodies, heated by the burning sun of the Llanos— they become stupified, and thus easily fall a prey to the electrical tyrant.

The natives of Venezuela employ a cruel mode of catching the creatures, which, notwithstanding their nature, they use as food. Placing but little value on mules and horses, they collect a number of these animals, and, armed with harpoons and long slender rods, drive them with shouts towards a pool inhabited by gymnoti. The noise of the horses' hoofs and the men's shrieks make the fish issue from the mud, when the huge, hideous creatures swim on the surface of the water, and crowd under the bellies of the horses and mules. Some of the Indians climb the trees; others stand round the margin, urging forward the unfortunate animals, and preventing them from making their escape. The fish defend themselves by frequent discharges of their electric batteries. At first they seem likely to prove victorious. Some of the quadrupeds sink beneath the violence of the invisible strokes which they receive from all sides, and, stunned by the force and frequency of the shocks, disappear under water; others, with their manes erect and eye-balls wild with pain, strive to escape the electric storm which they have aroused, but are driven back by the shouts and long whips of the excited Indians. The livid, yellow eels, like great water-snakes, swim near the surface and pursue their enemy. After the conflict has lasted a quarter of an hour or so, the mules and horses appear less alarmed. They no longer erect their manes, and their eyes express less pain and terror. The eel-like creatures, instead of advancing as at first, swim to the shore, when the Indians attack them with their harpoons, and by means of a long cord attached to it, jerk the fish out of the water, without receiving any shock, as long as the cord remains dry.

Such is the description given by Humboldt, a witness of the extraordinary scene. The employment of their electric powers is evidently spontaneous, and exhausts the nervous energy. Like voluntary muscular effort, it needs repose, and the creatures require an abundance of nourishment and rest before a fresh accumulation of electricity is produced.

In the dry season they form deep circular holes for themselves in the mud of water-courses, and marshes which remain filled with moisture, and they are thus able to support existence in their usual localities, while alligators and turtles have to retire to the larger pools or rivers. In the shallow ponds of the forest they are easily driven out with long poles.

Bates amused his native companions, who had thus caught some of the creatures, by showing them how the electric shock could pass from one person to another. They joined hands in a line, while he touched the biggest and freshest of the animals on the head with the point of his hunting-knife. He found, however, that the experiment did not succeed more than three times with the same eel when out of the water, for the fourth time the shock was scarcely perceptible.

The limbs even of the strongest man are benumbed, and he is struck down helpless, by a discharge from the battery of the gymnotus. The organs which produce this curious electrical effect are placed along the under side of the tail. They may be compared to a series of columns inclosed in a thin membrane packed closely together, which, consisting of a series of fiat discs, may be imitated by placing a number of coins with their discs parallel to each other, and with a bladder between each, separated by a gelatinous substance. These columns are technically called septa; and La Cepede calculates that two hundred and forty transverse membranes are packed in each inch, thereby giving to an electric eel eight feet in length an organ cavity of two hundred and forty-six square feet—an enormous extent, as may be supposed, of electricity producing surface. The whole apparatus is supplied with nerves which run through the entire length of the body.

STING-RAYS.

A fresh-water species of sting-ray is an inhabitant of the creeks and lagoons of stagnant water; and so infested are some of them with the creatures, that it is almost certain destruction to venture into them. The sting-ray is circular and flat, with a tail above a foot in length, very thick at the base, and tapering towards the end. Near the middle, on the upper part, it is armed with a long and sharp-pointed sting, finely serrated on two sides, which the fish can raise or depress at will. When disturbed, by a quick movement of the tail out darts its sting towards the object, which it seldom fails to reach. The wound thus inflicted is so severe that the whole nervous system is convulsed, the person becoming rigid and benumbed in a few moments. Long after the most violent effects of the wound have subsided, the part affected retains a sluggish ulceration, which has often baffled the skill of the best surgeons.

They frequent the shallow banks of muddy pools, where they may be constantly seen watching for their prey, and, as if conscious of their powers, scarcely deign to move off when approached. They have their enemies in vultures and other birds of prey; and as they are considered fit for food, war with spear and talon is constantly waged upon them.

SERROSALMUS PIRAYA.

In the Orinoco another dangerous creature exists, called by the natives piraya, with a head shaped somewhat like a sabre. The lower jaw is furnished with a formidable pair of fangs, not unlike those of the rattlesnake. With these it inflicts a gash as smooth as if cut with a razor.

THE CARIBE.

Every feature of the savage caribe denotes the ferocity and sanguinary nature of its tastes. The piercing eye, surrounded by a bloody-looking ring, is expressive of its cruel and bloodthirsty disposition. Its under jaw, lined with a thick cartilaginous membrane, adds greatly to its strength, protruding considerably beyond the upper, and increasing the ferocious expression of its countenance. Large spots of a brilliant orange hue cover a great portion of its body. Towards the back it is of a bluish ash colour, with a slight tint of olive-green; the intermediate spaces being of pearly white, while the gill-coverts are tinged with red.

So sharp are its triangular teeth, arranged like those of the shark, that neither twine, copper, nor steel can withstand them. At the sight of any red substance, blood especially, they swim forward to the attack; and as they usually move in swarms, it is extremely dangerous for man or beast to enter the water with even a scratch upon their bodies. Horses wounded by the spur are particularly exposed to their attacks when fording a stream; and so rapid is the work of destruction, that unless immediate assistance is rendered, the fish soon penetrate the abdomen of the animal and destroy it: hence the name given to them by the Spaniards means "tripe-eater." When a net is drawn on shore, numbers of these little pests are seen jumping in the crowd, their jaws wide open, tearing whatever comes in their way, and especially the meshes of the nets, which they soon render useless.

Some tribes of natives place their dead in the water, when these creatures speedily eat the flesh off the bones, which are then preserved in baskets.

Even human beings, when bathing, or fording rivers, are attacked by these terrible little cannibals;—for cannibals they are, as, whenever any of their own race are killed, they instantly attack and devour them.

There are other species of this fish,—among them the black caribe of the Orinoco. There is also a small species—a harmless, pretty little fish, of a bright green colour on the back, and a white belly streaked with pink. The teeth are used by the Macoushi Indians for sharpening the points of their poisoned arrows. This they do by drawing them rapidly between two of the teeth, in the way that knives are sharpened by two circular steel files, now in common use.

ADAPTATION OF ANIMALS TO THEIR DESTINED MODE OF EXISTENCE.

Strange and unfitted for existence as are many of the animals formed by the Almighty to the short-seeing eye of mortals, on a further acquaintance with them all will be discovered admirably suited to the life they are destined to enjoy. Following Waterton, we may take five as an example. The sloth, which has four feet, is unable to use them to support his body on the earth. They are destitute of soles, and the muscles requisite for progress in a perpendicular position; yet no creature is more thoroughly at home when clinging to the trees on which it has been created to exist. The ant-bear, without a tooth in his head, roves fearlessly in the forests inhabited by the jaguar and boa-constrictor. The sharp claws of his fore-feet enable him to confront the former, and his powerful muscular body and thick hair set even the boa at defiance. The vampire is unable to use his feet for walking, but he possesses a membrane, stretched by means of his legs, which enables him to mount up into an element where no other quadruped can follow. The armadillo, without fur or wool or bristles, has in their stead a movable shell placed on his back, so formed that he can roll himself up in a ball, while with his sharp claws he can dig rapidly into the earth to escape his foes. The tortoise is compelled to accommodate itself to the shell, which is hard and inflexible, and in no way obedient to the will of its bearer; yet that very shell, although so apparently inconvenient, serves as its protection. The turtle is protected in the same way; but its delicious flesh brings numerous enemies to attack it, from whom it has a hard task to escape. The egg of the tortoise, it may be remarked, has a very hard shell; while that of the turtle is quite soft.



PART THREE, CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

NATIVES OF THE VALLEY OF THE AMAZON.

A vast number of tribes inhabit the banks of the Amazon and its tributaries, who, though having a general resemblance, differ in their habits and customs. Those found on the Lower Amazon are more or less civilised, and are known as Tupis, or Tapuyas. They speak the lingua Geral, and sometimes Portuguese. The lingua Geral is the ancient Tupee language, considerably modified by the Jesuits, who taught it to all those under their control.

The Amazonian Indians have generally fine figures, their chests especially being well developed; their skin is of a copper hue, of various shades, sometimes almost of a dark brown. The hair is jet-black, straight and thick, and never curled. The eyes are black; and they have little or no beard. The face is generally wide, and somewhat flattened, with but little or no projection of the cheek-bones. Indeed, their features are often very regular; and many, except in colour, differ but little from well-formed European countenances.

THE MUNDURUCUS.

One of the largest semi-civilised tribes inhabiting the banks of the Tapajos are the Mundurucus. They are noted for tattooing their bodies more completely than any other tribe. The whole body is covered with straight lines in diagonal patterns from the mouth downwards, the upper part being left free. Some of the women, whose bodies are ornamented in the same fashion, have lines round their eyes, which look as if they were intended to represent a pair of spectacles. Even these marks, however, do not destroy the soft drooping look of the eyes common to Indian women. The countenances of some of the men are fine; the face, bold, solid, and square, possessing a passive dignity, with a look of tranquillity which appears immovable.

The more elaborate style of tattooing is only practised by the chiefs, as a mark of their birth and rank. It requires ten years to complete the whole process. The colour is introduced by fine puncturings over the surface—a painful process, which causes swelling and inflammation.

They are among the most warlike Indians of the Amazon, and keep the neighbouring and less civilised tribes on their good behaviour. They are expert agriculturists, and construct canoes and hammocks. They generally make a foray every year on an adjoining tribe,—the Parentintins,—when they kill the men, whose heads they preserve by drying and smoking, while they take the women and children for slaves. They have regular villages of conical huts, the walls and framework filled in with mud and thatched with palm-leaves. In the centre is a large hut in which the fighting men sleep, with their weapons ready for use. It is ornamented within with the dried heads of their enemies. They have of late years greatly decreased in numbers.

Some thirty tribes or families are found on the River Uapes. The men wear their hair in a long tail hanging down the middle of the back, while the women wear it loose, and cut to a moderate length. The only dress worn by the men is a small piece of matting passed between the legs, and secured round the loins by a string. The women wear none whatever, but paint their bodies in regular patterns,—generally red, yellow, and black colours. The only ornament worn by the women is a bracelet on the wrist; while below the knee a garter is fastened from infancy, for the purpose of swelling out the calf.

The men, however, adorn themselves in a variety of ways. Their hair is carefully parted and combed on each side. The young men, especially, wear it in long locks on either side of their necks, with a comb stuck on the top of the head—their feminine appearance being greatly increased by the large necklaces and bracelets of beads which they wear, and by their custom of pulling out every particle of hair from their beard. As these feminine-looking warriors always carry their large shields before them, it was but natural, when the Spaniards saw them, or other tribes similarly adorned, that they should have supposed them to be women. When, also, they saw in the distance parties of unadorned persons carrying burdens, they took them to be slaves captured in war. This, no doubt, was the origin of the fable of nations of Amazons found on the banks of the river.

GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE NATIVES.

Sometimes these natives wear circlets of parrot and other gay feathers on their heads, as well as armlets and leg ornaments of the same materials. Some of these tribes have the horrible custom of baking the bodies of their dead after they have become decomposed, till only a black carbonaceous mass is left. This is pounded, and mixed with an intoxicating liquor, called caxiri, in vats made out of hollow trees. The relatives having been invited, the whole company drink the mixture, under the belief that the virtues of the deceased will thus be transmitted to them. Some of them are cannibals, and make war for the express purpose of procuring human flesh. They smoke dry what they cannot at once consume, thus preserving it a long time for food. They have no definite idea of a God; but they dread an evil spirit, whom they believe delights in afflicting them, and is the cause of death.

Their houses hold a number of families; sometimes a whole tribe. They are upwards of 120 feet long, 80 feet broad, and 30 feet high. The plan is a parallelogram, with a semicircle at the further end. A passage twenty feet wide leads from one end to the other; while, on the sides, are partitions, like the stalls in an old-fashioned public room of an inn, each of which is inhabited by a separate family. The chief, or tushaua, resides at the semicircular end, where he has a private entrance. The furniture consists of hammocks, with various pots and cooking utensils made of clay, as well as baskets. Their canoes are formed out of a single tree, hollowed and forced open by cross-pieces. Some are forty feet in length. The dead are nearly always buried in the houses: a large house having sometimes one hundred graves in it.

From the Rio Negro to the Andes there is a large region, inhabited entirely by savages of whom little is known, except that they are mostly cannibals, and kill all their first-born children. On the other side of the Amazon also is a still larger tract of virgin forest, where not a single civilised man is to be found.

THE PURUPURUS.

Among these tribes, the Purupurus, although thorough savages, are perhaps the best-known. They wear no clothes whatever; their habitations are small huts rudely formed of boughs, which they set up on the sand. Their canoes are of the rudest construction, having flat bottoms and upright sides. They use neither the bow nor the gravatana, but instead have a weapon called the palheta, from which they can cast an arrow, as from a sling, with wonderful dexterity. In the septum of the nose and in the ears they bore holes, in which they wear rings.

THE CATAUIXIS.

In their immediate neighbourhood, the Catauixis tribe is found. Though they go naked, they build houses, and use bows and gravatanas. Their canoes are constructed of the bark of a tree taken off entire. They are also cannibals, and murder the people of other tribes whom they can surprise.

Many of the least barbarous tribes have frequently large meetings, when they dress up in feather ornaments of parrots and macaws in a variety of curious disguises. The chief wears a head-dress of toucan feathers, with the erect tail-plumes rising from the crown. The mask dresses are long cloaks, made of the inner bark of a tree. Sometimes they manufacture head-pieces, by stretching the cloth over a basketwork frame, to represent the heads of monkeys and other animals. When thus dressed, they perform a monotonous seesaw and stamping dance, accompanied by singing and drumming. Often this sport is kept up for several days and nights in succession. During the time, they drink large quantities of caxiri, while they smoke tobacco and take snuff. Their chief masker represents their demon Jurupari, but he does not appear to be treated with any particular respect.

Very little information has been gathered of the history of these tribes, as they seldom possess any knowledge of their ancestors beyond the times of their fathers or grandfathers. Few of them have benefited in any way by their intercourse with white men, but remain in the same barbarous condition in which they have probably existed for many centuries. A further description of their savage customs would be more disagreeable than satisfactory. We can only hope that the true gospel may be some day carried among them, and that they may be redeemed from their present barbarous condition.



PART THREE, CHAPTER NINETEEN.

INDIAN WEAPONS AND MODES OF KILLING GAME.

THE BLOW-PIPE.

The Indian, destitute of firearms, ranges through the forest in chase of the fiercest and largest animals which haunt its shade, armed with a slender tube, and a quiver full of needle-like arrows. The tube, ten or eleven feet long, is the celebrated gravatana, or blow-pipe; called also the zarabatana by the Spaniards. Slight as are the arrows which are blown through this weapon, they will penetrate the thickest hide; and being tipped with a deadly poison, carry death through the veins of the wounded animal in the course of a few minutes.

Blowpipes are formed in various ways,—for one, the stems of a small palm, the triatea setigera, are used. Outside they appear pointed, from the scars of the fallen leaves, but within they have a soft pith, which soon rots in water, and is easily extracted, leaving a smooth, polished bore. They vary from the thickness of a finger to two inches in diameter. Each of these stems is slender, the one of a size which may be pushed inside the larger. This is done that any curve in the one may counteract that in the other. A conical wooden mouthpiece is fitted on the one end, and the whole is spirally bound with the smooth black bark of a creeper. Two teeth, fastened about a couple of feet apart from the mouth end, serve as sights to enable the sportsman to take better aim. The end applied to the mouth is bound round with a small silk-grass cord to prevent it splitting; while the other is strengthened by having the seed of a nut, with a hole cut through it, secured round it.

The arrows, from nine to ten inches long, are made from the leaves of a species of palm, or from the spinous processes of the patawa, pointed as sharp as a needle. The other end is burned hard, and round it is wound a little conical tuft of tree-cotton, the silky covering of the bomba, so as exactly to fill up the bore of the tube. They are carried in a quiver, which holds some hundreds. It is in shape somewhat like a backgammon dice-box, formed of basketwork, and covered with a piece of the skin of the tapir. To it is attached a bunch of silk-grass, a small piece of bone for scratching the point of the arrows, and a basket for holding wild honey secured round the blunt end. The points of the arrows are tipped with the deadly wourali or urali poison.

Another kind of gravatana is made of two separate pieces of wood, each scooped out so as to form one half of the tube. The two halves are then secured together, by binding round them spirally long fiat strips of the jacitira, or wood of the climbing palm-tree, the whole being afterwards smeared over with the black wax of the melipona bee. The tube tapers towards the muzzle, and a cup-shaped mouthpiece is fitted in the broad end. It is so heavy that only a strong man, accustomed to its use, can employ it.

The boys learn to shoot with a smaller and lighter instrument. The tools used are made of the incisor teeth of the paca and cavy. A light arrow is put in at the inner end, and when the ball of silk-cotton secured to the shafts fits tightly, it can be propelled with such force by the breath that it makes a noise almost as loud as a pop-gun when flying from the muzzle. An expert Indian can propel arrows so as to kill at a distance of fifty or sixty yards. It is more useful in the forest than a gun, for the report of firearms alarms the birds or monkeys, while the silent poisoned dart brings them down one by one, until the sportsman has a heap of slain by his side.

WOURALI POISON.

The wourali poison is made chiefly by the natives of the northern part of the Amazonian valley. It is looked upon as an important and somewhat mysterious operation. Waterton and Schombergh describe it. The Indian, when preparing to concoct this deadly compound, goes into the wilds where grows a vine—the strychnos toxifera. After this he collects a number of bundles, and then takes up a root with an especially bitter taste. After this he searches for two bulbous plants, which contain a green and glutinous juice; and lastly, collects two species of ants—one very large and black, and so venomous that its sting produces fever, and another little red ant which stings like a nettle. Having scraped the wourali vine and bitter root into thin shavings, he puts them into a sieve made of leaves, which he holds over the earthen pot, pouring water on them. A thick liquor comes through, having the appearance of coffee. He then produces the bulbous stalks, and squeezes a portion of the juice into the pot. He now adds the pounded fangs of the labarri and counacouchi snakes,—which he generally has in store, as well as the ants. The ingredients are next boiled over a slow fire, and the scum being taken off, the liquid remains till it becomes reduced to a thick syrup of a deep brown colour. It is now fit for use. The arrows are then dipped into it, and if it is found of sufficient strength, it is poured into small pots, which are covered over with leaves and a piece of deer-skin. It is then kept in a dry place, or suspended occasionally over a fire, to counteract the effects of damp.

The poison must be fresh to kill speedily. A bird dies in a minute or so, and the largest animals only survive a few minutes after being struck. Salt is almost a certain antidote to the poison. The Indians, when they wish to preserve an animal alive, scrape off part of the poison, and, as soon as the animal falls, put salt into its mouth, when it speedily recovers. Monkeys are frequently captured in this way. Europeans accustomed to eat salt seldom suffer from the effects of the poison; though it is said to produce its usual deadly effects on the natives, when wounded by it, as they rarely or never consume salt.

The flesh of the animals killed is in no way injured by the poison, nor does it appear to corrupt sooner than that killed by the gun or knife.

Bows, with arrows four or five feet long, are used to kill the larger animals. The arrows are made of a yellow reed without joint or knot. A piece of hard wood is inserted into the end, and in this a square hole is made, tightly bound round with cotton to keep it from splitting. Into this square hole a spike is fitted, and dipped in the poison, while at the butt-end a couple of feathers are fastened to steady it in its flight. The hunter carries a number of these poisoned spikes. As the spike easily breaks off, or slips out when the animal is wounded, he recovers his shaft, into which he can easily refit another spike. The spikes are cut half through, to facilitate their breaking off.

TIMBO.

The Indian has also discovered the means of poisoning the fish of the lakes and pools, as well as the birds of the air. He extracts the poison from a certain liana—the paullinia pinnata—which he calls timbo. To do so, he collects a few pieces, about a yard long, and mashes and soaks them in water, which soon becomes discoloured with the milky poisonous juice of the plant. This he carries in a calabash, and pours out on the water. In about half an hour, all the smaller fish, over a wider space than that which he has sprinkled with the juice, rise to the surface, floating on their sides, with their gills wide open. So powerful is its nature, that but a slight quantity appeal's sufficient to stupify them. Some time afterwards the larger fish appear; and even for twenty-four hours afterwards a number rise floating dead on the surface. The fish are evidently suffocated by the poison.

MODE OF SHOOTING AND NETTING TURTLE.

Both fish and turtle are shot by the natives with arrows. The Indian takes his post on a little stage made of poles and cross-pieces of wood, secured with lianas, on the margin of the pools frequented by the turtles, armed with his bow and arrows. The arrow used for killing the latter has a strong lancet-shaped steel point fitted into a peg which enters the tip of the shaft. The peg is secured to the shaft by twine made of the fibres of pineapple leaves. The line, some thirty or forty yards long, is neatly wound round the body of the arrow. When the muzzle enters the shell the peg drops out, and the pierced animal descends with it towards the bottom, leaving the shaft floating on the surface. The sportsman, hastening to the spot in his canoe, sends another arrow into the turtle, and then humouring it by means of the two cords, quickly gets it on board. It is extraordinary, the skill the Indians will display on these occasions. They do not even wait for the turtle coming to the surface, but watch for the tracks which it makes in the water when swimming beneath it, and shoot with unerring aim.—At certain seasons turtle in vast shoals wend their way up the Orinoco, when, as they come to the surface to breathe, the Indians—who are on the watch—shoot them with heavy arrows, which, falling perpendicularly, pierce their thick coats; and they drift on shore, or are picked up by the canoes kept in readiness for that purpose. Nets also are employed: the depth is about equal to that of the water; while the floats, buoyed up on the surface, thus form a complete track. One party takes either end of the net, while the rest beat the water with poles, in order to drive the turtles towards the middle. As the beaters advance, numbers of little snouts suddenly popping above the water show that all is going on well. The beaters continue shouting and striking the water with great vigour. The ends of the nets are then seized by numerous strong hands and dragged quickly forward, forming a circle to inclose all the body. The canoes being brought up, the turtles are thrown into them. Mr Bates describes having seen fully eighty turtles secured thus in about twenty minutes.

ANOTHER MODE OF CATCHING FISH.

The natives on the banks of the northern rivers also employ a poisonous root for catching fish. It resembles a turnip, with a small plant rising from it, and is called by them cima. A decoction of it being made, it is mixed with boiled maize ground into paste. The Indian and his family go forth to the pool with a number of baskets to carry home their prey. Besides the poison-paste, he supplies himself with some pellets of paste free from it. On arriving at the pool or stream, he throws a quantity of the latter into the water, which attracts a variety of small fish from all quarters. He then begins to throw in the poisoned bait, which is no sooner swallowed than the fish begin to leap out of the water, and tumble about in all sorts of ways, when they are easily caught by the children, and thrown into their baskets, which in a short time are filled.

The Indians of the Orinoco also entrap fish in other ways. When the waters begin to ebb at the end of the rainy season, they form strong stockades across the outlet of the great lagoons in which a number of the larger fish, as well as turtles of enormous size, have taken refuse. The stakes of these stockades are driven into the bed of the channel, close enough to allow of the exit of the water and the smaller fish only. It is further secured by cross-beams thrown across the channel. Sometimes, however, so numerous are the fish, and so enormous their size, that they break through the stockade in spite of all the precautions taken.

POISONING BIRDS.

In the neighbourhood of the Apoure, in Venezuela, a poisonous shrub abounds—the deadly guachamaca—belonging to the family of Apocinese, or dog-bane. The natives make a strong decoction from it, into which they dip a number of small fish, and spread them about in the neighbourhood of lagoons frequented by cranes, herons, and other aquatic birds, hiding themselves near at hand. Before the bird has fairly swallowed the fish it drops dead, when the hunter, cutting off the head and neck, carries off the body as his prize. It is said that when meat has been roasted on spits made of this wood, it has absorbed sufficient poison to destroy all who ate it.

THE LONG-BOW.

Some tribes, using a powerful long-bow, shoot birds in the air at a great distance. The hunter, throwing himself on his back, with his quiver by his side, places his feet against the bow, raised to the required elevation, and thus, stretching out his legs, draws the arrow to his head on the ground. By this means he is enabled to kill wild fowl and other game at an enormous distance. An amusing writer on Venezuela mentions an Indian who used to place a piece of money on the top of a lemon, close to the point of the big toe on his left foot, and then, leaning backwards, bend his bow with the help of his right one, and shoot into the air at an angle of 85 degrees,—the arrow never failing when it turned round to come down and strike the coin. Another would shoot a bird soaring above his head, without looking at the bird,—guided only by the shadow cast upon the ground about mid-day.

STALKING GAME.

In the same legion, the Indians form a sort of trumpet out of bamboo, covering one end with a thick membrane. On blowing through the other, a sound is produced resembling the bleating of a young fawn. Hiding himself behind a tree, the hunter decoys the doe towards his place of concealment, when he easily shoots her with his poisoned arrow.

The following is another device for approaching the deer in the open plains. These animals seem to have a peculiar fondness for the tall crane of the Llanos—a large white bird, with long, slender legs, and at least five feet in height. It has a pouch of a bright scarlet, and a bill nearly a foot long, and wide at the base, which enables it to swallow a large fish at a mouthful. The hunter forms a mask to resemble the head of the crane, and, clothing his own dark body in white, holding his weapon low down, goes off in the direction of the deer, taking care to approach it to leeward. He then imitates the movements of the crane. When the deer stops to look at him, he bends down his head as if feeding. As soon as the deer again begins to browse, the hunter carefully approaches it till he gets within range, and can shoot his deadly dart with certain aim.

MODE OF KILLING ALLIGATORS.

The Indian bravely attacks the huge alligator, fearless of its enormous jaws, sometimes shooting it with arrows from his bow. The arrows are fitted in the same way as those used for killing turtle—the head remaining in the body of the animal, while the shaft, secured to it by a line, floats on the surface; which showing the direction taken by the saurian, it is chased and transfixed by either lances or arrows till it dies from exhaustion. On these occasions it is often attacked, it is said, by the caribes, and partially devoured, before it can be dragged on shore.

The creatures are also caught by another device. A piece of hard wood, pointed at both ends, is covered up with a large fish or lump of meat, and then thrown into the water, with a strong rope attached to the middle. The instant it is seized, the hunters, who have hold of the other end, drag the creature on shore, and despatch it with clubs or darts.

A story is told of a Llanero, who, accustomed to desperate encounters with savage bulls and fierce jaguars, determined on one occasion, when compelled to cross the river, to brave the risk of an attack from an alligator known to infest it. Plunging into the stream, with his saddle on his shoulders to prevent its being wetted, and his sharp dagger in his teeth, he swam on his horse's back. As those who saw him expected, the crocodile soon appeared. Boldly facing the creature, he approached its jaws, and, throwing his saddle at it, the alligator jumped partly out of the water to catch it. At that instant the daring Llanero plunged his dagger up to the very hilt into the arm-pit—the most vital part of the monster—when, with a tremendous splash, it instantly sank beneath the waves.

The tenacity of life exhibited by these monsters is often marvellous. Sir Robert Schombergh gives an account of shooting one when ascending the River Berbice. The snout was taken off by one ball, and another entered the hinder part of the skull, when the Indians, attacking it with their clubs, appeared completely to have knocked out every spark of life. It was at last hauled up and placed on the bow of the corial. While the corial was being drawn across the rapids, two of the Indians took up the cayman in order to lay it in a more convenient position. Scarcely had they done so, when at one bound it jumped into the river and disappeared. They could never afterwards be persuaded to touch a cayman.

TURTLE-CATCHING AND COLLECTING EGGS.

Both the Amazon and the Orinoco, with their tributaries, are frequented by several species of turtles. The mode employed for capturing the animals, as well as collecting the eggs, applies equally to both rivers.

There are several species of fresh-water turtles. The largest in the upper waters grow to a great size, measuring nearly three feet long, by two in breadth; so that one is a load for the strongest man. The Brazilian Government make regulations for protecting the turtles whilst laying, so that all the inhabitants on the banks may have an equal chance of procuring a supply of eggs. The natives collect from all quarters for this object. The turtles select the highest and driest banks composed of the finest sand, which will be a sufficient time above water to allow of the eggs being hatched by the heat of the sun. Some of these banks are of great extent—many miles long, and often one or more broad. They are the haunts and breeding-places of many different kinds of animals, and are covered by tracks of alligators and turtles. Not only do these here make their nests, but birds lay in them their eggs during the dry season; and different kinds of fish use them for the same purpose when covered with water. Here, too, the wonderful little acara are found, with their young in their heads; and there are also rounded shallow depressions in the mud, which the fishermen say are the sleeping-places of the skates. They are certainly about the size and form of a skate, and it can easily be believed that these singular impressions in the soft surface have been made in this way. The creatures, however, only frequent certain praias out of the number existing. When the waters overflow the land, the young turtles move into the interior, where they remain during their infant days in the numberless lakes and pools in the forest. As the dry season approaches, the full-grown turtles descend from the interior pools while the outlets are still open (between July and August), and seek in countless swarms their favourite banks. Sentinels are then posted on high lookout places, situated at the ends of the banks, where they may watch the proceedings of the creatures, and mark the spots they have chosen. They also warn off any fishermen who may approach, as the sight of a man or a fire on the sand-bank would prevent the turtles from leaving the water that night to lay their eggs; and, if frequently alarmed, they would forsake the praia for some other place.

The turtles lay their eggs by night—crawling in vast crowds to the central and highest part of the praia—and are occupied till dawn in the operation. They excavate with their broad-webbed paws deep holes in the fine sand. The first which arrives makes a pit about three feet deep, and lays its eggs—about one hundred in number—covering them with sand. The next makes its deposit at the top of the former; and so on till every pit is full. They are so careful in covering up the eggs, that, when they quit the spot, the only marks distinguishable are those which they make when returning to the water—as they go round and round the nest several times in succession to obliterate all traces. The sand, however, remains so loose, that it gives way under foot, and thus the Indian easily discovers the spot.

A body of turtles occupy several days in the operation; one party succeeding the other, night after night, till all have deposited their eggs. As the season advances, however, those who have arrived late, in their hurry to lay, appear to take fewer precautions. So powerful is the effect of the sun on these sand-banks, that a few days only are required to hatch the young turtles.

It has been so arranged by the Creator, that they always come forth at night, as the heat of the sun would kill them, and they would be devoured by birds of prey and other animals on the watch to seize the dainty morsels. Although the hole from which they emerge may be half a mile or more from the river, instinct teaches them to go in a direct line to the water. A number, however, are caught by their enemies; while enormous quantities of eggs are taken,—both to be used as food, and for the sake of the oil they contain.

A curious sight is witnessed from the top of the sentinel's stage at daybreak. The sand appears blackened with the multitudes of turtles— which, after depositing their eggs, are waddling towards the river; and often, where the margin of the praia is steep, tumbling down the declivity into the water.

OIL FROM TURTLES' EGGS.

As soon as the eggs have been laid, the Indians, arriving in their canoes from all directions, with their families, build reed huts on the banks—some merely driving poles into the sand, from which to swing their hammocks. The canoes are then drawn up on the beach and thoroughly washed out, while the whole praia is covered with natives with the baskets on their backs in which they collect the eggs. The eggs are then cleansed from the grains of sand adhering to them, and emptied into the canoes, when they are trodden on by the children, much in the same way as grapes are mashed for wine-making. The canoes, when full, are left exposed to the sun's rays, and in a short time a fine clear oil rises to the surface. It is then skimmed off with shells and put into large pots, when it is boiled over the fire and becomes purified. It is next transferred to jars, and is ready for use. It is finer and clearer than that produced from olives.

Meantime, any stray turtles which have delayed their departure, as frequently happens, are turned over on their backs. Holes are dug in the sand near the water, in which the young turtles are kept till required for eating. When not actually employed in picking up eggs or catching turtles, the whole population are engaged in feasting off them—an enormous quantity being thus consumed. The flesh of the animals is cut up and dressed in the shells, which serve as pots, without the danger of burning; and it is washed down with copious draughts of chica.

The female turtles contain an enormous number of eggs, apparently ready to be laid during a succession of years—from the large ones covered with a white membrane, down to a confused mass resembling mustard-seeds. As it requires five thousand to fill a jar of oil, and as many thousands of jars are collected, it may be conceived what an enormous number of eggs are deposited every year. Were it not that many turtles lay in solitary places, which the Indians have not discovered, the rivers would soon be depopulated. The Indian children watch for the creatures as soon as they are hatched, and collect great numbers.

Humboldt calculates that nearly a million turtles annually deposit their eggs on the banks of the Lower Orinoco. In the Amazon, already the turtles have greatly decreased in numbers; and Bates states that, where formerly he could buy one for ninepence, he could with difficulty procure them latterly for eight or nine shillings each. Every house on the banks has a little pond, called a corral, or pen, in the back-yard, to hold a stock of large turtle during the wet months, till a fresh supply can be procured in the dry season.

The tracaja, or smaller kind, which lays its eggs a month earlier than the larger species, seldom lives, in captivity, beyond a few days.

The natives cook the turtles in various ways. The entrails make a delicious soup, called sarapatel; while the flesh of the breast is mixed with farina, and roasted in the breast shell over the fire. Steaks, cooked with fat, make another dish; and large sausages, composed of the thick-coated stomach, filled with mince-meat, and boiled, are considered great delicacies. Bates, however, found, that though the flesh is very tender, palatable, and wholesome, it becomes cloying after a person has lived on it for some time; and he at length could not bear the smell, even though suffering from hunger.

FISHING-NETS AND BASKETS.

The tribes on the River Uape's use several kinds of bows, some from five to six feet long,—the arrows being still longer. The shaft is made of the flower-stalk of the arrow-grass. The head is composed of hard wood pointed, and sometimes armed with a serrated spine of the ray-fish, covered thickly with poison, and notched, so as easily to break off—a most deadly weapon. Their arrows for shooting fish are armed with iron heads, while smaller arrows are used for shooting small game. These alone have feathers at the base, generally from the wings of the macaw. They are secured spirally, forming thus a little screw on the base of the arrow, causing it to revolve rapidly, and assisting to keep it in a direct course.

They employ also several sorts of hand-nets for catching fish: one is very similar to the folding nets of entomologists, and another is like a landing net. Rods and lines are generally used by them. They also catch fish by means of a small conical-shaped wicker basket. The larger end is completely open. Into this, which is placed in a current, the fish enter, and swimming rapidly on, jam themselves into the narrow end, where, unable to turn, they are completely secured. They also use large cylindrical baskets, with reversed cones in the mouth like those of lobster-pots, but of much greater size.

Fish are also caught by means of weirs. These are well built, supported by strong posts. They are formed when the water is low. As the water rises, the fish, keeping by the sides of the stream, are guided by the side wings of the weir into its narrow opening, out of which they cannot make their way. Not only fish, but turtles find their way into these weirs, and sometimes electric eels—as also those dreaded fish, the piranhas. The Indian gets the fish out by diving into the weir armed with a small hand-net, and sometimes with a knife. He first endeavours, however, to learn whether any of his foes are within, and gets them out first. Another kind of weir is formed on a still larger scale, generally beneath cataracts or waterfalls. It is similar to the eel-traps sometimes used at mills. As the water pours into it, the fish are often caught in great numbers. These traps, however, require a considerable amount of ingenuity and a great exertion of strength for their construction, as large timbers must be used, to withstand the strength of the current.

CANOES.

Most of the tribes make their canoes out of single trees, which they hollow and expand by means of a fire placed beneath them, gradually inserting wedges and cross-pieces. It is first reared on trestles, with a slit downwards over the fire—which is kept up for seven or eight hours. The process requires great and constant attention, to avoid cracks, and make the canoe bend with the proper dip at the two ends. Additional planks are often secured to the sides, while the stem and stern are formed of semicircular boards pegged on to the ends of the trunk. The seams are then caulked with gum. The paddles have oval blades, and are about three feet in length, cut out of single pieces.

MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.

A somewhat complicated musical instrument, consisting of twelve pipes or trumpets, made of bamboos fastened together, with trumpet-shaped mouthpieces of bark, is used by one tribe of Indians. The sounds are not disagreeable, resembling somewhat clarionets and bassoons. No woman, however, is allowed to see them; and as soon as they are brought out, all the females hurry off to hide themselves. Should any one attempt to observe the mysterious instrument, she is immediately put to death,—generally by poison. A father or a husband would not hesitate on such an occasion to sacrifice his daughter or wife.

The Indians of the Uapes manufacture with great neatness a variety of articles, such as fine hammocks, baskets, and gourds—which they paint with elegant devices; also earthenware water-pitchers and pans for cooking, and clay ovens. They also show skill in making several musical instruments—like fifes and whistles, as also drums—and all sorts of ornaments for the person. Their feather dresses are remarkable for their elegance and the labour bestowed on them.

The Purupurus, one of the most savage tribes, have an instrument— employed by no others—called the palheta. It is a piece of wood with a projection at the end, in which the base of the arrow is secured. The arrow is held with the handle of the palheta in the hand, and thus thrown as a stone from a sling. The natives exhibit wonderful dexterity in the use of this weapon, and with the greatest facility kill birds, fish, and game of all sorts with it.



PART FOUR, CHAPTER ONE.

NORTHERN REGIONS OF SOUTH AMERICA.

VENEZUELA.

New Granada is almost entirely a mountain region, occupied by the northern end of the Andes, except where it slopes down towards the Isthmus of Panama and the Caribbean Sea. Venezuela, however, contains three distinct zones or characters of country—mountains, forests, and open plains. The mountain regions, which are also three in number, are separated by wide plains. On the west, the mountains belong to the Andes—being spurs of that range—a large portion consisting of table-lands, called paramos, from 10,000 to 14,000 feet above the sea-level. Among them lies the Lake of Maracaibo, ninety-two miles in length, and eighty-two in width—the largest in South America. On the north-east is the Sierra de Bergantin, and in the south-east the Sierra de Parima. The forests extend from the Orinoco southward, joining that of the Amazon—a vast tract, but seldom penetrated by the traveller.

The natives call the three zones into which they divide their country the Tierras Calidas, or hot countries—rising not more that 2000 feet above the sea, and in which only tropical plants and fruits flourish; the Tierras Templadas, or temperate country—from 2000 to 7000 feet above the sea, where the agricultural productions of Europe succeed best; and the Tierras Frias, or cold countries—which rise above the former, to the height of 15,000 feet, the summits of the mountains reaching 148 feet above the snow-line.

Two seasons exist in the tropics, into which the year is divided—the wet and the dry. Though the heat is greatest in the former, it is called winter, as the sun then passes twice over the zenith; while during the dry season, which is called summer, the sun is in the southern hemisphere. During the whole year the north-east trade-wind blows across the country, but modified in direction and force by these seasons.

In consequence of the very different elevations of the land, the productions of nearly all parts of the world can here be cultivated successfully. In the hot districts, chiefly bordered by the sea, cotton, indigo, cacao, coffee, sugar, tobacco, and cocoa-nuts come to perfection. The cocoa-palm, enjoying the advantage of the sea-breeze, here grows to a height of seven hundred feet above the ocean. No tobacco surpasses that of the well-known Varina. Barley and millet, as well as wheat, are produced on the more elevated tracts; while maize is cultivated all over the country.

The wide-extending marshes and pools are frequented by pelicans, herons, and wild geese, ducks, and flamingoes; while other birds—chiefly belonging to the Falconidae, Ardeidae, Strigidae, and Psittacidae—are numerous. The savage alligator and fearful anaconda abound in all the rivers and lakes; while the jaguar, puma, ounce, tiger-cat, monkey, tapir, capybara, porcupine, wild hog, sloth, and ant-eater range through its forests and savannahs.

Numerous tribes of the aborigines, driven back by the whites, exist in the remoter districts. They are generally of a dark copper colour, while some are of a lighter hue; and though building huts, most of them go almost naked. They exist on plantains, yucca, batatas, and the sugar-cane—which they rudely cultivate; and the fish, as well as the manatees and alligators, which swarm in their waters.

The neighbourhood of the Caraccas is described as a terrestrial paradise, where spring perpetually reigns. In this favoured region, all the fruits of the tropics come to the greatest perfection. The delicious chirimoya takes the first place. It is likened to lumps of flavoured cream, ready to be frozen, suspended from the branches of some fairy tree, amidst an overpowering perfume of flowers—for it is in bearing all the year round. "He who has not tasted the chirimoya fruit, has yet to learn what fruit is," says Markham.

Here, too, the grandilla, in shape like a water-melon, hangs from its delicate tendrils. When cut open, it is found filled with a juice-like nectar, having the flavour of the strawberry and peach. A species, of cactus—the nopal—produces the tuna or Indian fig.

It is on the fleshy, downy stems of the cactus that the cochineal insect is reared, producing the valuable crimson dyes which outshine the vaunted productions of Tyre; and from the same family of plants rises the magnificent pitahaya,—"those flowers known for size and effulgence, which begin to open as the sun declines, and bloom during the night, shedding a delicious fragrance, and offering their brimful goblets, filled with nectareous juice, to thousands of moths and other crepuscular and nocturnal insects," as Gosse describes it.

The splendid mammey apple-tree (Mammea Americana), which bears numbers of round and heavy fruits, brown outside, and of a golden yellow within, valued for the marmalades and other delicacies formed from them.

Of the same family as the chirimoya is the guanabana (Anona muricata), or sour sop, an unattractive name for so delicious a fruit. From it a cooling drink is made, and ices of fine flavour.

A near relative is the custard apple, filled with a ruddy compounded substance, which no cook can surpass. As also the rinon (Anona squamosa), a kidney-like fruit in form, with a custard-like interior.

The superb alligator-pear, more properly called percia gratissima; its first name given probably from its being indigenous to a country abounding in saurian reptiles, otherwise it is difficult to account for its inappropriate designation. It resembles in shape a large pear; but the interior of its rind is lined with a marrow-like substance of a yellowish colour, somewhat like butter, and used at the breakfast-table.

Among other products is the tamarind, unrivalled either as regards beauty of foliage, brilliancy of blossoms, or the delicacy of its acidulous pulpy pods. In blossom the tree is a lovely object. Amid its feathery dark green foliage issue, in vast numbers, golden yellow branches with delicate flowers dazzling to the eye; while its fruits in a green state form a candied sweetmeat, or when ripe, and made into a decoction, a refreshing drink for fever-stricken patients.

The inaja-palm, of various species, produces pellucid pods, from one to two feet in length, containing a row of beans—enveloped in white cottony pulp—grateful to the taste.

The cocoa-palm, though at a distance from the coast, here flourishes in great perfection, adding to the splendour of the vegetation, with its glorious crown of monster leaves; while the plantain and banana are widely cultivated, a few plants of which are sufficient to supply a family with bread, vegetables, fruit, and preserves of various kinds. Humboldt observes that an area planted with plantains produces nearly twenty times as much food as the same space sown with corn.

HUMMING-BIRDS.

Amid this rich and varied vegetation, swarms of tiny and brilliant humming-birds flutter round the masses of highly-scented blossoms that perfume the air, and which might be mistaken by the stranger at first sight for some of the metallic-coloured beetles which dispute with them the nectar of the fragrant flowers, so brilliant is the lustre shed by both. As Gosse well remarks: "For that peculiar charm which resides in flashing light, combined with the most brilliant colours, the lustre of precious stones, there are no birds, no creatures, that can compare with the humming-birds, confined exclusively to America." These lovely little winged gems were to the Mexican and Peruvian Indians the very quintessence of beauty; and were called by various names, signifying "the rays of the sun," and the like. Fully four hundred distinct species of these winged gems are supposed to exist on the continent.

TREES.

Of the trees which have a wide range over the country, especially near the sea-coast, the lignum vitae is of great value. As from its hard nature it turns the edge of the best-tempered tools, it serves for the construction of wharves, as well as for the keels of ships,—the attacks of the teredo, or sea-worm, being futile upon the iron network of its fibres. It can remain under water for an indefinite period without rotting, and eventually becomes petrified.

Here the guayacan, or guayacum of the arts, is found in great abundance.

The alcornoque, a beautiful tree, scarcely inferior to it, here raises its graceful head above the rest, affording the cattle a permanent shade during the dry season; while in the Llanos it is used in the construction of houses and fences.

The Brazileto-wood tree grows in abundance, producing a beautiful dye.

Among others is the tree which yields the precious balsam of copaiba,— extracted by making incisions in the trunk, when the resinous fluid pours forth.

The natives form their piroques or canoes from the last which we will mention, the tacamahaca (the Elaphrium tornentosium), which here attains great dimensions. The bark is of the nature of the birch-bark of North America, and is stripped off the trees in a similar manner, the huge sheets being joined at the extremities by means of slender vines, while the interstices are filled with resin to keep out the water—the whole being then bound with stronger vines, and several sticks being fixed between the borders to prevent the bark from collapsing. The resin of this tree, an opaque lemon-coloured substance, resembles wax; and when mixed with algoroba, it forms a torch which burns with great brilliancy, and emits a delicious odour.

The vast Llanos, already mentioned, in the north cover a surface of about 110,600 square miles. Over a large portion of this wide-extending region, even the wild Indian, there unable to find subsistence, but seldom roamed; and thus for ages it remained a howling wilderness, inhabited, and that only at certain seasons, by the jaguar, the peccary, the agouti, and the timid deer. Here, when the summer sun sends down its burning rays day after day from a cloudless sky, the grass withered and shrivelled by its heat, the plain presents the appearance of a desert waste. No cooling breeze passes across it, no shelter is found from the scorching heat. The pools are dried-up, the surface of the swamps becomes cracked and dry—the brown stalks of the tall reeds alone marking the nature of the ground. Here, occasionally, when the blast sweeps across the plain, columns of dust are set in motion, like those of the African Sahara, overwhelming and stifling the incautious traveller, who is hurled senseless to the ground.

Here, too, as in other desert regions, the mirage mocks him as he journeys across it parched with thirst—often assuming a semblance of the ocean, slowly moving in wave-like undulations.

The few trees and shrubs which here and there rise from the plain assume a greyish-yellow tint, showing that the sap which has hitherto nourished their leaves has ceased to flow,—stopped by the burning heat, which has dried-up every particle of moisture from which they are wont to obtain nourishment. At this season even the animals take their departure; here and there the alligator and anaconda alone remain, in a torpid state, buried in the clay of the dried-up swamps.

The traveller who ventures across this arid region has not only to encounter the breath of the simoom, the sufferings of burning thirst, the attacks of wild beasts, the bite of the matacabello—which may kill his steed and leave him helpless—and many other dangers, but, more fearful than all, flames caused by some camp-fire incautiously left burning, seizing the parched vegetation, traverse the plain with inconceivable rapidity. He and his Indian guides, without whom he could not venture across it, discover far-away on the horizon columns of smoke ascending to the skies. The Indians, standing up in their stirrups, gaze at it anxiously for a moment to watch its direction, and then pressing their steeds to their utmost speed, urge him to fly for life. At first he can scarcely believe that yon distant line of smoke is menacing them with danger; but soon onwards it comes, the burning torrent rolling rapidly towards them. Now and then they turn their heads to watch its progress. In vain they look out in every direction for a darker patch in the plain, which may indicate a water pool, and amid which they may seek refuge. None appears. On they rush, urging their horses by whip and spur—their steeds seeming to know their danger. Already they see the bright glare of the flames below the dark mass of smoke. Already the bursting and crackling of the leaves, as the threatening column rushes on, reaches their ears. A fearful death is following them. At length the sharp eyes of one of the guides discover a slight eminence; towards this, though almost despairing of safety, they direct their course. They reach its base. It is but thinly covered with vegetation. Scarcely have they urged up their panting horses to the summit than the flames overtake them. And now the sea of fire rolls its devouring billows around, and the suffocating smoke, striking in their faces, compels them to fall on the ground, in the hope of obtaining sufficient air for breathing, till the flames have passed by. The fire mounts the hill, but happily, finding little nourishment, is speedily extinguished. And now the waving mass, rolling onwards, recedes further and further from their gaze.

Whole swarms of voracious vultures follow in circling flight the smoky column, like so many hungry jackals, and pounce upon the snakes and lizards which the blaze has stifled and half calcined in its murderous embrace. Then, with the rapidity of lightning, they dart on their prey and disappear in the clouds of smoke, as if they were voluntarily devoting themselves to a fiery death. Soon the deafening noise of the conflagration ceases, and the dense black clouds in the distance are the only signs that the flames are still proceeding on their devastating path over the wide waste of the savannah.

The travellers thus happily saved may now proceed on their course, provided they have a supply of water for themselves, and have certain information of the existence of some deep pool at which their steeds may quench their thirst. Let them be cautious, however, how they approach the pool; for beneath its surface the alligator and anaconda lie hid, or the electric eel—which with its powerful galvanic battery may strike the steed which ventures within its reach.

Even in this arid region the bountiful Creator has not left his creatures without the means of sustaining life. Here, on the driest soil, the globular melon-cactus, measuring a foot in diameter, flourishes; its tough and prickly skin surrounding a rich and juicy pulp. It is, however, covered with long, sharp thorns, which must be broken off before the refreshing juice can be obtained. It is curious that the wild horse and ox—strangers, as it were, to the region—are not possessed of the sagacity to do this; while the mule, when it discovers the melon, sets to work at once with its fore-feet, and then cautiously sips the refreshing liquid.

Day after day the sun, with a lurid glare spread far and wide over the cloudless sky, rises above the arid plains, drawing up every particle of moisture, and withering with the intense heat of his rays every blade of grass and green leaf, till it seems as if the whole region were doomed to eternal desolation. At length, however, a wonderful change takes place over the hitherto arid waste. A thick veil of mist is drawn across the blue sky. A low bank of clouds appears on the horizon. Gradually it rises, assuming the form of distant mountain-chains above the plain. Onwards it advances, increasing in density, while vivid flashes of lightning dart forth; the thunder is heard rolling in the distance, and now loud crashing peals burst from the clouds, which rapidly spreading across the vault of heaven, plenteous showers rush downwards on the parched earth, filling up the dry cracks in the marshes, replenishing the pools, and swelling the streams. The grass springs up on every long-dry spot, the leaves burst forth, while thousands of flowers of every tint and hue enamel the plain; and, as if by magic, the whole face of nature is in a few hours changed. In a short time the thorny bushes of the delicate and feathery-foliaged mimosas are loaded with masses of canary-coloured blossoms, from their summits down to the lowest branches, sending forth an almost overpowering perfume; while the fronds of the beautiful mauritias—the palm of the Llanos—rising to the height of one hundred feet above the plain, sprout forth in rich luxuriance.

Animal life, too, wakes up. The savage alligator and the huge anaconda crawl forth from the bed of clay in which they have passed their summer sleep, in search of prey; ibises, cranes, flamingoes, and numberless water-fowl, swarm on the newly-formed pools; the cattle of the Llaneros luxuriate in the abundant grasses which everywhere appear; while multitudes of insects crawl forth, seeking refuge from the flood in the higher grounds. The swollen rivers now inundate the plains, and the spots where the cattle wandered in vain to quench their thirst can now be passed for miles together by boats; and alligators lie in wait to seize in their savage jaws the horses and oxen compelled to swim across the flooded land in search of pasture.

THE LLANEROS.

Sterile as the Llanos appear during the dry season, numerous cattle-farms exist, scattered widely over large portions. The Llaneros, as the inhabitants are called—descendants of the white settlers, with an admixture of Indians and blacks—are a hardy, bold race, living almost entirely on horseback, engaged in watching over their herds, and in battling with the spotted jaguar, the savage cayman, the huge boa and anaconda, and occasionally the fierce natives of the surrounding deserts. Often, too, they have to struggle for their lives against the sudden inroads of the vast inundations which sweep off their herds and frail habitations. Armed with their unerring lasso and garrocha, or sharp lance, blunderbuss and sword, they fear no foes. These lances, formed of the tough stem of a small palm, are weapons of no slight importance to them. They are sharpened to a point at one end, and hardened in the fire, or sometimes have an iron head. Round the point a number of loose metal rings are secured, which when shaken produce a loud rattling sound.

See a band of these hardy horsemen in chase of the wild cattle which roam at large over the plains. In bands of six or ten, they form a circle of fifteen miles or so in circumference—bivouacking during the previous night at their respective stations. At early dawn they mount their horses; and now, shouting and shrieking, with their lasso coiled before them on their saddle, and their garrocha in their hand, whirled round and round, they advance, closing in towards the centre of the circle, and driving before them all the animals they meet. The animals, terrified by the cries and whirling spears, dash madly forward,—some endeavouring to break away from the circle, when they are speedily turned back by the sharp goads of the horsemen. Not only the cattle, but wild boars, deer, and other quadrupeds, starting up from the ground where they have been resting, dash on amid the confused herd. And now perhaps several thousand head of cattle are collected within the circle formed by a hundred or more horsemen. If a fierce bull, turning round, ventures to encounter them, they shake their rattling spears in his ears, and quickly again turn him.