Where a sand-bank is left dry by the shallow current, the unwieldly

crocodiles lie, with open jaws, as motionless as pieces of rock and

often covered with birds.[48] The boa serpent, his body marked like

a chess-board, coiled up, his tail wound round the branch of a tree,

lies lurking on the bank secure of his prey; he marks the young bull

or some feebler inhabitant of the forest as it fords the stream, and

swiftly uncoiling seizes the victim, and covering it with mucus forces

it laboriously down his swelling throat.[49]

In the midst of this grand and savage nature live many tribes of men,

isolated from each other by the extraordinary diversity of their

languages: some are nomadic, wholly unacquainted with agriculture,

and using ants, gums, and earth as food[50]; these, as the Otomacs

and Jarures, seem a kind of outcasts from humanity: others, like the

Maquiritares and Macos, are settled, more intelligent and of milder

manners, and live on fruits which they have themselves reared.

Large spaces between the Cassiquiare and the Atabapo are only inhabited

by the tapir and the social apes, and are wholly destitute of human

beings. Figures graven on the rocks[51] shew that even these deserts

were once the seat of some degree of intellectual cultivation. They

bear witness to the changeful destinies of man, as do the unequally

developed flexible languages; which latter belong to the oldest and

most imperishable class of historic memorials.

But as in the Steppe tigers and crocodiles fight with horses and

cattle, so in the forests on its borders, in the wildernesses of

Guiana, man is ever armed against man. Some tribes drink with unnatural

thirst the blood of their enemies; others apparently weaponless and yet

prepared for murder[52] kill with a poisoned thumb-nail. The weaker

hordes, when they have to pass along the sandy margin of the rivers,

carefully efface with their hands the traces of their timid footsteps.

Thus man in the lowest stage of almost animal rudeness, as well as

amidst the apparent brilliancy of our higher cultivation, prepares for

himself and his fellow men increased toil and danger. The traveller

wandering over the wide globe by sea and land, as well as the historic

inquirer searching the records of past ages, finds every where the

uniform and saddening spectacle of man at variance with man.

He, therefore, who, amidst the unreconciled discord of nations, seeks

for intellectual calm, gladly turns to contemplate the silent life of

vegetation, and the hidden activities of forces and powers operating

in the sanctuaries of nature; or, obedient to the inborn impulse which

for thousands of years has glowed in the human breast, gazes upwards

in meditative contemplation on those celestial orbs, which are ever

pursuing in undisturbed harmony their ancient and unchanging course.

ANNOTATIONS AND ADDITIONS.

[1] p. 1.--“_The Lake of Tacarigua._”

In proceeding through the interior of South America from the Caraccas

or Venezuela shore towards the boundary of Brazil, from the 10th

degree of North latitude to the Equator, the traveller crosses first

an elevated mountain-chain running in an east and west direction, next

vast treeless Steppes or Plains (los Llanos), which stretch from the

foot of the above-named mountains (the coast chain of Caraccas) to the

left bank of the Orinoco, and lastly the range which occasions the

Cataracts of Atures and Maypure. This latter range of mountains, to

which I have given the name of the Sierra Parime, runs in an easterly

direction from the Cataracts to Dutch and French Guiana. It is a mass

of mountains divided into many parallel ridges, and is the site of

the fabled Dorado. It is bordered on the south by the forest plain,

through which the river of the Amazons and the Rio Negro have formed

the channels in which their waters flow. Those who desire a fuller

acquaintance with the geography of these regions will do well to

consult and compare the great map of La Cruz-Olmedilla, bearing date

1775, (from which almost all the more recent maps of South America have

been formed,) and the map of Columbia constructed by me from my own

astronomical determinations of geographical positions, and published in

1825.

The coast chain of Venezuela, geographically considered, is a part of

the chain of the Andes of Peru. The chain of the Andes divides itself,

at the great mountain junction at the sources of the Magdalena, south

of Popayan, (between 1° 55′ and 2° 20′ latitude), into three chains,

the easternmost of which terminates in the snow-covered mountains of

Merida. These mountains sink down towards the Paramo de las Rosas into

the hilly land of Quibor and Tocuyo, which connects the coast chain of

Venezuela with the Cordilleras of Cundinamarca. The coast chain forms

an unbroken rampart from Porto Cabello to the promontory of Paria. Its

mean height hardly equals 750 toises or 4795 English feet; yet single

summits, like the Silla de Caracas (also called Cerro de Avila), decked

with the purple-flowering Befaria the American Rose of the Alps, rise

1350 toises or 8630 English feet above the level of the sea. The coast

of Terra Firma bears traces of devastation. We recognise everywhere the

action of the great current which, sweeping from east to west, formed

by disruption the West Indian Islands, and hollowed out the Caribbean

gulf. The projecting tongues of land of Araja and Chuparipari, and

especially the coast of Cumana and New Barcelona, offer a remarkable

spectacle to the geologist. The precipitous Islands of Boracha,

Caracas, and Chimanas, rise like towers from the sea, and bear witness

to the terrible pressure of the waters against the mountain chain when

it was broken by their irruption. Perhaps, like the Mediterranean, the

Antillean gulf was once an inland sea, which became suddenly connected

with the ocean. The islands of Cuba, Hayti, and Jamaica, still contain

the remnants of the lofty mountains of mica slate which bounded this

sea to the north. It is remarkable that where these three islands

approach each other most nearly the highest summits are found; and

we may conjecture that the highest part of this Antillean chain was

situated between Cape Tiburon and Point Morant. The Copper Mountains

(Montañas de Cobre) near Santiago de Cuba have not yet been measured,

but their elevation is probably greater than that of the Blue Mountains

of Jamaica, (1138 toises, 7277 English feet,) which somewhat exceeds

the height of the St. Gothard Pass. My conjectures on the valley-form

of the Atlantic Ocean, and on the ancient connection of the continents,

were given more in detail in a memoir written in Cumana, entitled

Fragment d’un Tableau Géologique de l’Amerique Meridionale (Journal

de Physique, Messidor, An. IX.) It is worthy of remark, that Columbus

himself, in his Official Reports, called attention to the connection

between the direction of the equatorial current and the form of the

coast line of the larger Antilles. (Examen critique de l’hist. de la

Géographie, p. 104-108.)

The northern and most cultivated part of the province of Caraccas is

a country of mountains. The coast chain is divided like the Swiss

Alps into several subordinate chains enclosing longitudinal valleys.

The most celebrated of these is the pleasant valley of Aragua, which

produces a great quantity of indigo, sugar, cotton, and, what is most

remarkable, European wheat. The southern margin of this valley adjoins

the beautiful lake of Valencia, whose old Indian name is Tacarigua. The

contrast between its opposite shores gives it a striking resemblance

to the Lake of Geneva. It is true that the bare mountains of Guigue

and Guiripa have less grandeur of character than the Savoy Alps; but,

on the other hand, the opposite bank of the Tacarigua lake, which is

thickly clothed with plantains, mimosas, and triplaris, far surpasses

in picturesque beauty the vineyards of the Pays de Vaud. The lake

is about thirty geographical miles in length, and is full of small

islands, which, as the loss of water by evaporation exceeds the influx,

are increasing in size. Within some years sand-banks have even become

real islands, and have received the significant name of the “Newly

Appeared,” Las Aparecidas. On the island of Cura the remarkable species

of Solanum is cultivated which has edible fruit, and which Wildenow has

described in the Hortus Berolinensis (1816, Tab. xxvii.) The height

of the Lake of Tacarigua above the sea is almost 1400 French feet,

(according to my measurement exactly 230 toises, or 1470 English feet,)

less than the mean height of the valley of Caraccas. The lake has

several kinds of fish (see my Observations de Zoologie et d’Anatomie

comparée, T. ii p. 179-181), and is one of the most pleasing natural

scenes which I know in any part of the globe. In bathing, Bonpland and

myself were often alarmed by the appearance of the Bava, an undescribed

crocodile-like lizard, three or four feet in length, of repulsive

aspect, but harmless to men. We found in the lake a Typha (Cats-tail),

identical with the European Typha angustifolia; a singular fact, and

important in reference to the geography of plants.

Two varieties of sugar-cane are cultivated near the lake, in the

valleys of Aragua: the common sugar-cane of the West Indies, Caña

criolla; and the cane recently introduced from the Pacific, Caña de

Otaheiti. The verdure of the Tahitian cane is of a much lighter and

more agreeable tint, and a field of it can readily be distinguished

at a great distance from a field of the common cane. The sugar-cane

of Tahiti was first described by Cook and George Forster, who appear,

however, from the excellent memoir of the latter upon the edible plants

of the islands of the Pacific, to have been but little acquainted with

its valuable qualities. Bougainville brought it to the Isle of France,

from whence it was conveyed to Cayenne, and since 1792 it has been

taken to Martinique, Hayti, and several of the smaller West Indian

Islands. It was carried with the bread-fruit tree to Jamaica by the

brave but unfortunate Captain Bligh, and was introduced from the Island

of Trinidad to the neighbouring coast of Caraccas, where it became a

more important acquisition than the bread-fruit, which is never likely

to supersede a plant so valuable and affording so large an amount of

sustenance as the plantain. The Tahitian sugar-cane is much richer in

juice than the common cane, said to be originally a native of the east

of Asia. On an equal surface of ground it yields a third more sugar

than the caña criolla, which has a thinner stalk and smaller joints.

As, moreover, the West India islands begin to suffer great want of

fuel, (in Cuba the wood of the orange tree is used for sugar boiling,)

the thicker and more woody stalk of the Tahitian cane is an important

advantage. If the introduction of this plant had not taken place almost

at the same time as the commencement of the bloody negro war in St.

Domingo, the prices of sugar in Europe would have risen still higher

than they did, in consequence of the ruinous effects of those troubles

on agriculture and trade. It was an important question, whether the

cane of the Pacific, when removed from its native soil, would gradually

degenerate and become the same as the common cane. Experience hitherto

has decided against any such degeneration. In Cuba a caballeria (nearly

33 English acres) planted with Tahitian sugar-cane produces 870 hundred

weight of sugar. It is singular that this important production of the

islands of the Pacific is only cultivated in those parts of the Spanish

colonies which are farthest from the Pacific. The Peruvian coast is

only twenty-five days’ sail from Tahiti, and yet, at the period of

my travels in Peru and Chili, the Tahitian cane was unknown there.

The inhabitants of Easter Island, who suffer much from deficiency of

fresh water, drink the juice of the sugar-cane, and (a very remarkable

physiological fact) also sea water. In the Society, Friendly, and

Sandwich Islands, the light green, thick-stalked sugar-cane is always

the one cultivated.

Besides the Caña de Otaheiti and the Caña Criolla, a reddish African

variety, called Caña de Guinea, is cultivated in the West Indies: its

juice is less in quantity than that of the common Asiatic cane, but is

said to be better suited for making rum.

In the province of Caraccas the dark shade of the cacao plantations

contrasts beautifully with the light green of the Tahitian sugar cane.

Few tropical trees have such thick foliage as the Theobroma cacao. It

loves hot and humid valleys: great fertility of soil and insalubrity of

atmosphere are inseparable from each other in South America as well as

in Asia; and it has even been remarked that as increasing cultivation

lessens the extent of the forests, and renders the soil and climate

less humid, the cacao plantations become less flourishing. For these

reasons these plantations are diminishing in number and extent in

the province of Caraccas, and increasing rapidly in the more eastern

provinces of New Barcelona and Cumana, and particularly in the moist

woody district between Cariaco and the Golfo Triste.

[2] p. 2.--“_‘Banks’ is the name given by the natives to this

phenomenon._”

The Llanos of Caraccas are occupied by a great and widely extended

formation of conglomerate of an early period. In descending from the

vallies of Aragua, and crossing over the most southern ridge of the

coast chain of Guigue and Villa de Cura towards Parapara, one finds

successively, gneiss and mica slate;--a probably silurian formation of

clay slate and black limestone;--serpentine and greenstone in detached

spheroidal masses;--and, lastly, close to the margin of the great

plain, small hills of augitic amygdaloid and porphyritic slate. These

hills between Parapara and Ortiz appear to me like volcanic eruptions

on the ancient sea-shore of the Llanos. Farther to the north are the

celebrated grotesque-shaped cavernous rocks of Morros de San Juan;

they form a kind of rampart, have a crystalline grain like upheaved

dolomite, and are rather to be regarded as parts of the shore of the

ancient gulf than as islands. I term the Llanos a gulf, for when we

consider their small elevation above the present sea level, their form

open as it were to the equatorial current sweeping from east to west,

and the lowness of the eastern coast between the mouth of the Orinoco

and the Essequibo, we can scarcely doubt that the sea once overflowed

the whole basin between the coast chain of Caraccas and the Sierra de

la Parime, and beat against the mountains of Merida and Pamplona; (as

it is supposed to have overflowed the plains of Lombardy, and beat

against the Cottian and Pennine Alps). The strike or inclination of

the American Llanos is also directed from west to east. Their height

at Calabozo, 400 geographical miles from the sea, is barely 30 toises

(192 English feet); being 15 toises (96 English feet) less than that

of Pavia, and 45 toises (288 English feet) less than that of Milan, in

the plains of Lombardy between the Alps and Apennines. The form of the

surface of this part of the globe reminds one of Claudian’s expression,

“curvata tumore parvo planities.” The horizontality of the Llanos is

so perfect that in many portions of them no part of an area of more

than 480 square miles appears to be a foot higher than the rest. If, in

addition to this, we imagine to ourselves the absence of all bushes,

and even in the Mesa de Pavones the absence of any isolated palm-trees,

it will afford some idea of the singular aspect of this sea-like desert

plain. As far as the eye can reach, it can hardly rest on a single

object a few inches high. If it were not that the state of the lowest

strata of the atmosphere, and the consequent changes of refraction,

render the horizon continually indeterminate and undulating, altitudes

of the sun might be taken with the sextant from the margin of the plain

as well as from the horizon at sea. This great horizontality of the

former sea bottom makes the “banks” more striking. They are broken

strata which rise abruptly from two to three feet above the surrounding

rock, and extend uniformly over a length of from 40 to 48 English

geographical miles. The small streams of the Steppes take their rise on

these banks.

In passing through the Llanos of Barcelona, on our return from the Rio

Negro, we found frequent traces of earthquakes. Instead of the banks

standing _higher_ than the surrounding rock, we found here solitary

strata of gypsum from 3 to 4 toises (19 to 25 English feet) _lower_.

Farther to the west, near the junction of the Caura with the Orinoco,

and to the east of the mission of S. Pedro de Alcantara, an extensive

tract of dense forest sank down in an earthquake in 1790, and a lake

was formed of more than 300 toises (1918 English feet) diameter. The

tall trees (Desmanthus, Hymenæas, and Malpighias) long retained their

foliage and verdure under the water.

[3] p. 2.--“_We seem to see before us a shoreless ocean._”

The prospect of the distant Steppe is still more striking, when the

spectator has been long accustomed in the dense forests both to

a very restricted field of view, and to the aspect of a rich and

highly luxuriant vegetation. Ineffaceable is the impression which I

received on our return from the Upper Orinoco, when, from the Hato del

Capuchino, on a mountain opposite to the mouth of the Rio Apure, we

first saw again the distant Steppe. The sun had just set; the Steppe

appeared to rise like a hemisphere; and the light of the rising stars

was refracted in the lowest stratum of air. The excessive heating of

the plain by the vertical rays of the sun causes the variations of

refraction,--occasioned by the effects of radiation, of the ascending

current, and of the contact of strata of air of unequal density,--to

continue through the entire night.

[4] p. 2.--“_The naked stony crust._”

Immense tracts of flat bare rock form peculiar and characteristic

features in the Deserts both of Africa and Asia. In the Schamo, which

separates Mongolia and the mountain chains of Ulangom and Malakha-Oola

from the north-west part of China, these banks of rock are called

Tsy. They are also found in the forest-covered plains of the Orinoco,

surrounded by the most luxuriant vegetation (Relation Hist. t. ii. p.

279). In the middle of these flat tabular masses of granite and syenite

of some thousand feet diameter, denuded of all vegetation save a few

scantily distributed lichens, we find small islands of soil, covered

with low and always flowering plants which give them the appearance

of little gardens. The monks of the Upper Orinoco regard these bare

and perfectly level surfaces of rock, when they are of considerable

extent, as peculiarly apt to cause fevers and other illnesses. Several

missionary villages have been deserted or removed elsewhere in

consequence of this opinion, which is very widely diffused. Supposing

the opinion correct, is such an influence of these flat rocks or laxas

to be attributed to a chemical action on the atmosphere, or merely to

the effect of increased radiation?

[5] p. 2.--“_The Llanos and Pampas of South America, and the Prairies

of the Missouri._”

The physical and geognostical views entertained respecting the

western part of North America have been rectified in many respects

by the adventurous journey of Major Long, the excellent writings of

his companion Edwin James, and more especially by the comprehensive

observations of Captain Frémont. These, and all other recent accounts,

now place in a clear light what, in my work on New Spain, I could

only put forward as conjecture, on the subject of the mountain ridges

and plains to the north. In the description of nature as well as in

historical inquiries, facts long remain isolated, until by laborious

investigation they are brought into connection with each other.

The east coast of the United States of North America runs from

south-west to north-east, in the same direction as that followed in

the southern hemisphere by the Brazilian coast from the river Plate to

Olinda. In the two hemispheres two ranges of mountains exist at a short

distance from the eastern coast; they are more nearly parallel to each

other than they are to the more westerly chain, called in South America

the Cordilleras of Peru and Chili, and in North America the Rocky

Mountains. The Brazilian system of mountains forms an isolated group,

of which the highest summits (the Itacolumi and Itambe) do not rise

above the height of 900 toises (5755 English feet). The most easterly

ridges, which are nearest to the Atlantic, follow a uniform direction

from SSW. to NNE.; more to the west the group becomes broader, but

diminishes considerably in height. The Parecis hills approach the

rivers Itenes and Guaporé, and the mountains of Aguapehi (to the south

of Villabella) approach the lofty Andes of Cochabamba and Santa Cruz de

la Sierra.

There is no immediate connection between the eastern and western

chains,--the Brazilian mountains, and the Cordilleras of Peru,--for

the low province of Chiquitos, which is a longitudinal valley running

from north to south, and opening into the plains both of the Amazons

and of the river Plate, separates Brazil on the east from the Alto

Peru on the west. Here, as in Poland and Russia, an often almost

imperceptible rise of ground (called, in Slavonian, Uwaly) forms the

separating water-line between the Pilcomayo and the Madeira, between

the Aguapehi and the Guaporé, and between the Paraguay and the Rio

Topayos. The swell of the ground runs to the south-east from Chayanta

and Pomabamba (lat. 19°-20°), traverses the province of Chiquitos,

which, since the expulsion of the Jesuits, has again become almost a

terra incognita, and forms, to the north-east, where there are only

detached mountains, the “divortia aquarum” at the sources of the Baures

and near Villabella, lat. 15°-17°.

This line of separation of the waters is important in relation to

facilities of intercourse, and to the increase of cultivation and

civilisation: more to the north (2°-3° N. lat.), a similar line divides

the basin of the Orinoco from that of the Amazons and the Rio Negro.

These risings or swellings in the plains (called, by Frontin, terræ

tumores) might be regarded as undeveloped systems of mountains, which

would have connected two apparently isolated groups (the Sierra Parime

and the Brazilian mountains) with the Andes of Timana and Cochabamba.

These relations, which have been hitherto but little attended to, are

the ground of the division which I have made of South America into

three basins; viz. those of the lower Orinoco, of the Amazons, and

of the Rio de la Plata. The first and last of these are steppes or

prairies; the middle basin, that of the Amazons, between the Sierra

Parime and the Brazilian group of mountains, is a forest-covered plain

or _Hylæa_.

Aspects of nature, in different lands and different climates (Vol. 1 of 2) with scientific elucidations · 第 2 / 19 段