The Andes mountains, rising in the extreme southern point of South
America, not only extend throughout the whole length of that continent,
but continue on through Central America and Mexico, under the name of
"Cordilleras de Sierra Madre;" and still farther north to the shores of
the Arctic Sea, under the very inappropriate appellation of the "Rocky
Mountains." You must not suppose that these stupendous mountains form
one continuous elevation. At many places they furcate into various
branches, throwing off spurs, and sometime parallel "sierras," between
which lie wide "valles," or level plains of great extent. It is upon
these high plateaux--many of them elevated 7,000 feet above the sea--
that the greater part of the Spanish-American population dwells; and on
them too are found most of the large cities of Spanish South America and
Mexico.
These parallel chains meet at different points, forming what the
Peruvians term "nodas" (knots); and, after continuing for a distance in
one great cordillera, again bifurcate. One of the most remarkable of
these bifurcations of the Andes occurs about latitude 2 degrees North.
There the gigantic sierra separates into two great branches, forming a
shape like the letter Y, the left limb being that which is usually
regarded as the main continuation of these mountains through the Isthmus
of Panama, while the right forms the eastern boundary of the great
valley of the Magdalena river; and then, trending in an eastwardly
direction along the whole northern coast of South America to the extreme
point of the promontory of Paria.
Each of these limbs again forks into several branches or spurs,--the
whole system forming a figure that may be said to bear some resemblance
to a genealogical tree containing the pedigree of four or five
generations.
It is only with one of the bifurcations of the right or eastern sierra
that this sketch has to do. On reaching the latitude of 7 degrees
north, this chain separates itself into two wings, which, after
diverging widely to the east and west, sweep round again towards each
other, as if desirous to be once more united. The western wing advances
boldly to this reunion; but the eastern, after vacillating for a time,
as if uncertain what course to take, turns its back abruptly on its old
comrade, and trends off in a due east direction, till it sinks into
insignificance upon the promontory of Paria.
The whole mass of the sierra, however, has not been of one mind; for, at
the time of its indecision, a large spur detaches itself from the main
body, and sweeps round, as if to carry out the union with the left wing
advancing from the west. Although they get within sight of each other,
they are not permitted to meet,--both ending abruptly before the circle
is completed, and forming a figure bearing a very exact resemblance to
the shoe of a racehorse. Within this curving boundary is enclosed a
vast valley,--as large as the whole of Ireland,--the central portion of
which, and occupying about one third of its whole extent, is a sheet of
water, known from the days of the discovery of America, as the _Lake of
Maracaibo_.
It obtained this appellation from the name of an Indian cazique, who was
met upon its shores by the first discoverers; but although this lake was
known to the earliest explorers of the New World,--although it lies
contiguous to many colonial settlements both on the mainland and the
islands of the Caribbean Sea,--the lake itself and the vast territory
that surrounds it, remain almost as unknown and obscure as if they were
situated among the central deserts of Africa.
And yet the valley of Maracaibo is one of the most interesting portions
of the globe,--interesting not only as a _terra incognita_, but on
account of the diversified nature of its scenery and productions. It
possesses a _fauna_ of a peculiar kind, and its _flora_ is one of the
richest in the world, not surpassed,--perhaps not equalled,--by that of
any other portion of the torrid zone. To give a list of its vegetable
productions would be to enumerate almost every species belonging to
tropical America. Here are found the well-known medicinal plants,--the
sassafras and sarsaparilla, guaiacum, copaiva, cinchona, and cuspa, or
_Cortex Angosturae_; here are the deadly poisons of _barbasco_ and
_mavacure_, and alongside them the remedies of the "palo sano," and
_mikania guaco_. Here likewise grow plants and trees producing those
well-known dyes of commerce, the blue indigo, the red arnotto, the
lake-coloured chica, the brazilletto, and dragon's-blood; and above all,
those woods of red, gold, and ebon tints, so precious in the eyes of the
cabinet and musical-instrument makers of Europe.
Yet, strange to say, these rich resources lie, like treasures buried in
the bowels of the earth, or gems at the bottom of the sea, still
undeveloped. A few small lumbering establishments near the entrance of
the lake,--here and there a miserable village, supported by a little
coast commerce in dyewoods, or cuttings of ebony,--now and then a hamlet
of fishermen,--a "hato" of goats and sheep; and at wider intervals, a
"ganaderia" of cattle, or a plantation of cocoa-trees (_cocale_),
furnish the only evidence that man has asserted his dominion over this
interesting region. These settlements, however, are sparsely
distributed, and widely distant from one another. Between them stretch
broad savannas and forests,--vast tracts, untitled and even
unexplored,--a very wilderness, but a wilderness rich in natural
resources.
The Lake of Maracaibo is often, though erroneously, described as an arm
of the sea. This description only applies to the _Gulf of Maracaibo_,
which is in reality a portion of the Caribbean Sea. The lake itself is
altogether different, and is a true fresh-water lake, separated from the
gulf by a narrow neck or strait. Within this strait--called "boca," or
mouth--the salt water does not extend, except during very high tides or
after long-continued _nortes_ (north winds), which have the effect of
driving the sea-water up into the lake, and imparting to some portions
of it a saline or brackish taste. This, however, is only occasional and
of temporary continuance; and the waters of the lake, supplied by a
hundred streams from the horseshoe sierra that surrounds it, soon return
to their normal character of freshness.
The shape of Lake Maracaibo is worthy of remark. The main body of its
surface is of oval outline,--the longer diameter running north and
south,--but taken in connection with the straits which communicate with
the outer gulf, it assumes a shape somewhat like that of a Jew's-harp,
or rather of a kind of guitar, most in use among Spanish Americans, and
known under the name of "mandolin" (or "bandolon"). To this instrument
do the natives sometimes compare it.
Another peculiarity of Lake Maracaibo, is the extreme shallowness of the
water along its shores. It is deep enough towards the middle part; but
at many points around the shore, a man may wade for miles into the
water, without getting beyond his depth. This peculiarity arises from
the formation of the valley in which it is situated. Only a few spurs
of the sierras that surround it approach near the edge of the lake.
Generally from the bases of the mountains, the land slopes with a very
gentle declination,--so slight as to have the appearance of a perfectly
horizontal plain,--and this is continued for a great way under the
surface of the water. Strange enough, however, after getting to a
certain distance from the shore, the shoal water ends as abruptly as the
escarpment of a cliff, and a depth almost unfathomable succeeds,--as if
the central part of the lake was a vast subaqueous ravine, bounded on
both sides by precipitous cliffs. Such, in reality, is it believed to
be.
A singular phenomenon is observed in the Lake Maracaibo, which, since
the days of Columbus, has not only puzzled the Curious, but also the
learned and scientific, who have unsuccessfully attempted to explain it.
This phenomenon consists in the appearance of a remarkable light, which
shows itself in the middle of the night, and at a particular part of the
lake, near its southern extremity. This light bears some resemblance to
the _ignis fatuus_ of our own marshes; and most probably is a
phosphorescence of a similar nature, though on a much grander scale,--
since it is visible at a vast distance across the open water. As it is
seen universally in the same direction, and appears fixed in one place,
it serves as a beacon for the fishermen and dye-wood traders who
navigate the waters of the lake,--its longitude being precisely that of
the straits leading outward to the gulf. Vessels that have strayed from
their course, often regulate their reckoning by the mysterious "Farol de
Maracaibo" (Lantern of Maracaibo),--for by this name is the natural
beacon known to the mariners of the lake.
Various explanations have been offered to account for this singular
phenomenon, but none seem to explain it in a satisfactory manner. It
appears to be produced by the exhalations that arise from an extensive
marshy tract lying around the mouth of the river Zulia, and above which
it universally shows itself. The atmosphere in this quarter is usually
hotter than elsewhere, and supposed to be highly charged with
electricity; but whatever may be the chemical process which produces the
illumination, it acts in a perfectly silent manner. No one has ever
observed any explosion to proceed from it, or the slightest sound
connected with its occurrence.
Of all the ideas suggested by the mention of Lake Maracaibo, perhaps
none are so interesting as those that relate to its native inhabitants,
whose peculiar habits and modes of life not only astonished the early
navigators, but eventually gave its name to the lake itself and to the
extensive province in which it is situated. When the Spanish
discoverers, sailing around the shores of the gulf, arrived near the
entrance of Lake Maracaibo, they saw, to their amazement, not only
single houses, but whole villages, apparently floating upon the water!
On approaching nearer, they perceived that these houses were raised some
feet above the surface, and supported by posts or piles driven into the
mud at the bottom. The idea of Venice--that city built upon the sea, to
which they had been long accustomed--was suggested by these
_superaqueous_ habitations; and the name of _Venezuela_ (Little Venice)
was at once bestowed upon the coast, and afterwards applied to the whole
province now known as the Republic of Venezuela.
Though the "water villages" then observed have long since disappeared,
many others of a similar kind were afterwards discovered in Lake
Maracaibo itself, some of which are in existence to the present day.
Besides here and there an isolated habitation, situated in some bay or
"laguna," there are four principal villages upon this plan still in
existence, each containing from fifty to a hundred habitations. The
inhabitants of some of these villages have been "Christianised," that
is, have submitted to the teaching of the Spanish missionaries; and one
in particular is distinguished by having its little church--a regular
_water_ church--in the centre, built upon piles, just as the rest of the
houses are, and only differing from the common dwellings in being larger
and of a somewhat more pretentious style. From the belfry of this
curious ecclesiastical edifice a brazen bell may be heard at morn and
eve tolling the "oracion" and "vespers," and declaring over the wide
waters of the lake that the authority of the Spanish monk has replaced
the power of the cazique among the Indians of the Lake Maracaibo. Not
to all sides of the lake, however, has the cross extended its conquest.
Along its western shore roams the fierce unconquered Goajiro, who, a
true warrior, still maintains his independence; and even encroaches upon
the usurped possessions both of monk and "militario."
The _water-dweller_, however, although of kindred race with the Goajiro,
is very different, both in his disposition and habits of life. He is
altogether a man of peace, and might almost be termed a civilised
being,--that is, he follows a regular industrial calling, by which he
subsists. This is the calling of a fisherman, and in no part of the
world could he follow it with more certainty of success, since the
waters which surround his dwelling literally swarm with fish.
Lake Maracaibo has been long noted as the resort of numerous and
valuable species of the finny tribe, in the capture of which the Indian
fisherman finds ample occupation. He is betimes a fowler,--as we shall
presently see,--and he also sometimes indulges, though more rarely, in
the chase, finding game in the thick forests or on the green savannas
that surround the lake, or border the banks of the numerous "riachos"
(streams) running into it. On the savanna roams the graceful roebuck
and the "venado," or South-American deer, while along the river banks
stray the capibara and the stout tapir, undisturbed save by their fierce
feline enemies, the puma and spotted jaguar.
But hunting excursions are not a habit of the water Indian, whose
calling, as already observed, is essentially that of a fisherman and
"fowler," and whose subsistence is mainly derived from two kinds of
_water-dwellers_, like himself--one with fins, living below the surface,
and denominated _fish_; another with wings, usually resting _on_ the
surface, and known as _fowl_. These two creatures, of very different
kinds and of many different species, form the staple and daily food of
the Indian of Maracaibo.
In an account of his habits we stall begin by giving a description of
the mode in which he constructs his singular dwelling.
Like other builders he begins by selecting the site. This must be a
place where the water is of no great depth; and the farther from the
shore he can find a shallow spot the better for his purpose, for he has
a good reason for desiring to get to a distance from the shore, as we
shall presently see. Sometimes a sort of subaqueous island, or elevated
sandbank, is found, which gives him the very site he is in search of.
Having pitched upon the spot, his next care is to procure a certain
number of tree-trunks of the proper length and thickness to make
"piles." Not every kind of timber will serve for this purpose, for
there are not many sorts that would long resist decay and the wear and
tear of the water insects, with which the lake abounds. Moreover, the
building of one of these aquatic houses, although it be only a rude hut,
is a work of time and labour, and it is desirable therefore to make it
as permanent as possible. For this reason great care is taken in the
selection of the timber for the "piles."
But it so chances that the forests around the lake furnish the very
thing itself, in the wood of a tree known to the _Spanish inhabitants_
as the "vera," of "palo sano," and to the natives as "guaiac." It is
one of the zygophyls of the genus _Guaiacum_, of which there are many
species, called by the names of "iron-wood" or "lignum-vitae;" but the
species in question is the _tree_ lignum-vitae (_Guaiacum arboreum_),
which attains to a height of 100 feet, with a fine umbrella-shaped head,
and bright orange flowers. Its wood is so hard, that it will turn the
edge of an axe, and the natives believe that if it be buried for a
sufficient length of time under the earth it will turn to iron! Though
this belief is not literally true, as regards the _iron_, it is not so
much of an exaggeration as might be supposed. The "palo de fierro,"
when buried in the soil of Maracaibo or immersed in the waters of the
lake, in reality does undergo a somewhat similar metamorphose; in other
words, it turns into stone; and the petrified trunks of this wood are
frequently met with along the shores of the lake. What is still more
singular--the piles of the water-houses often become petrified, so that
the dwelling no longer rests upon wooden posts, but upon real columns of
stone!
Knowing all this by experience, the Indian selects the guaiac for his
uprights, cuts them of the proper length; and then, launching them in
the water, transports them to the site of his dwelling, and fixes them
in their places.
Upon this a platform is erected, out of split boards of some less
ponderous timber, usually the "ceiba," or "silk-cotton tree" (_Bombax
ceiba_), or the "cedro negro" (_Cedrela odorata_) of the order
_Meliaceae_. Both kinds grow in abundance upon the shores of the
lake,--and the huge trunks of the former are also used by the water
Indian for the constructing of his canoe.
The platform, or floor, being thus established, about two or three feet
above the surface of the water, it then only remains to erect, the walls
and cover them over with a roof. The former are made of the slightest
materials,--light saplings or bamboo poles,--usually left open at the
interstices. There is no winter or cold weather here,--why should the
walls be thick? There are heavy rains, however, at certain seasons of
the year, and these require to be guarded against; but this is not a
difficult matter, since the broad leaves of the "enea" and "vihai" (a
species of _Heliconia_) serve the purpose of a roof just as well as
tiles, slates, or shingles. Nature in these parts is bountiful, and
provides her human creatures with a spontaneous supply of every want.
Even ropes and cords she furnishes, for binding the beams, joists, and
rafters together, and holding on the thatch against the most furious
assaults of the wind. The numerous species of creeping and twining
plants ("llianas" or "sipos") serve admirably for this purpose. They
are applied in their green state, and when contracted by exsiccation
draw the timbers as closely together as if held by spikes of iron. In
this manner and of such materials does the water Indian build his house.
Why he inhabits such a singular dwelling is a question that requires to
be answered. With the _terra firma_ close at hand, and equally
convenient for all purposes of his calling, why does he not build his
hut there? So much easier too of access would it be, for he could then
approach it either by land or by water; whereas, in its present
situation, he can neither go away from his house or get back to it
without the aid of his "periagua" (canoe). Moreover, by building on the
beach, or by the edge of the woods, he would spare himself the labour of
transporting those heavy piles and setting them in their places,--a
work, as already stated, of no ordinary magnitude. Is it for personal
security against human enemies,--for this sometimes drives a people to
seek singular situations for their homes? No; the Indian of Maracaibo
has his human foes, like all other people; but it is none of these that
have forced him to adopt this strange custom. Other enemies? wild
beasts? the dreaded jaguar, perhaps? No, nothing of this kind. And yet
it is in reality a living creature that drives him to this resource,--
that has forced him to flee from the mainland and take to the water for
security against its attack,--a creature of such small dimensions, and
apparently so contemptible in its strength, that you will no doubt smile
at the idea of its putting a strong man to flight,--a little insect
exactly the size of an English gnat, and no bigger, but so formidable by
means of its poisonous bite, and its myriads of numbers, as to render
many parts of the shores of Lake Maracaibo quite uninhabitable. You
guess, no doubt, the insect to which I allude? You cannot fail to
recognise it as the _mosquito_? Just so; it is the mosquito I mean, and
in no part of South America do these insects abound in greater numbers,
and nowhere are they more bloodthirsty than upon the borders of this
great fresh-water sea. Not only one species of mosquito, but all the
varieties known as "jejens," "zancudos," and "tempraneros," here abound
in countless multitudes,--each kind making its appearance at a
particular hour of the day or night,--"mounting guard" (as the
persecuted natives say of them) in turn, and allowing only short
intervals of respite from their bitter attacks.
Now, it so happens, that although the various kinds of mosquitoes are
peculiarly the productions of a marshy or watery region,--and rarely
found where the soil is high and dry,--yet as rarely do they extend
their excursions to a distance from the land. They delight to dwell
under the shadow of leaves, or near the herbage of grass, plants, or
trees, among which they were hatched. They do not stray far from the
shore, and only when the breeze carries them do they fly out over the
open water. Need I say more? You have now the explanation why the
Indians of Maracaibo build their dwellings upon the water. It is simply
to escape from the "plaga de moscas" (the pest of the flies).
Like most other Indians of tropical America, and some even of colder
latitudes, those of Maracaibo go naked, wearing only the _guayueo_, or
"waist-belt." Those of them, however, who have submitted to the
authority of the monks, have adopted a somewhat more modest garb,--
consisting of a small apron of cotton or palm fibre, suspended from the
waist, and reaching down to their knees.
We have already stated, that the water-dwelling Indian is a fisherman,
and that the waters of the lake supply him with numerous kinds of fish
of excellent quality. An account of these, with the method employed in
capturing them, may not prove uninteresting.
First, there is the fish known as "liza," a species of skate. It is of
a brilliant silvery hue, with bluish corruscations. It is a small fish,
being only about a foot in length, but is excellent to eat, and when
preserved by drying, forms an article of commerce with the West-Indian
islands. Along the coasts of Cumana and Magarita, there are many people
employed in the _pesca de liza_ (skate-fishery); but although the liza
is in reality a sea fish, it abounds in the fresh waters of Maracaibo,
and is there also an object of industrial pursuit. It is usually
captured by seines, made out of the fibres of the _cocui aloe_ (_agave
cocuiza_), or of cords obtained from the unexpanded leaflets of the
moriche palm (_Mauritia flexuosa_), both of which useful vegetable
products are indigenous to this region. The roe of the liza, when dried
in the sun, is an article in high estimation, and finds its way into the
channels of commerce.
A still more delicate fish is the "pargo." It is of a white colour
tinged with rose; and of these great numbers are also captured. So,
too, with the "doncella," one of the most beautiful species, as its
pretty name of "doncella" (young maiden) would indicate. These last are
so abundant in some parts of the lake, that one of its bays is
distinguished by the name of _Laguna de Doncella_.
A large, ugly fish, called the "vagre," with an enormous head and wide
mouth, from each side of which stretches a beard-like appendage, is also
an object of the Indian's pursuit. It is usually struck with a spear,
or killed by arrows, when it shows itself near the surface of the water.
Another monstrous creature, of nearly circular shape, and full three
feet in diameter, is the "carite," which is harpooned in a similar
fashion.
Besides these there is the "viegita," or "old-woman fish," which itself
feeds upon lesser creatures of the finny tribe, and especially upon the
smaller species of shell-fish. It has obtained its odd appellation from
a singular noise which it gives forth, and which resembles the voice of
an old woman debilitated with extreme age.
The "dorado," or gilded fish--so called on account of its beautiful
colour--is taken by a hook, with no other bait attached than a piece of
white rag. This, however, must be kept constantly in motion, and the
bait is played by simply paddling the canoe over the surface of the
lake, until the dorado, attracted by the white meteor, follows in its
track, and eventually hooks itself.
Many other species of fish are taken by the water-Indians, as the
"lebranche" which goes in large "schools," and makes its breeding-place
in the lagunas and up the rivers, and the "guabina," with several kinds
of sardines that find their way into the tin boxes of Europe; for the
Maracaibo fisherman is not contented with an exclusive fish diet. He
likes a little "casava," or maize-bread, along with it; besides, he has
a few other wants to satisfy, and the means he readily obtains in
exchange for the surplus produce of his nets, harpoons, and arrows.
We have already stated that he is a fowler. At certain seasons of the
year this is essentially his occupation. The fowling season with him is
the period of northern winter, when the migratory aquatic birds come
down from the boreal regions of Prince Rupert's Land to disport their
bodies in the more agreeable waters of Lake Maracaibo. There they
assemble in large flocks, darkening the air with their myriads of
numbers, now fluttering over the lake, or, at other times, seated on its
surface silent and motionless. Notwithstanding their great numbers,
however, they are too shy to be approached near enough for the "carry"
of an Indian arrow, or a gun either; and were it not for a very cunning
stratagem which the Indian has adopted for their capture, they might
return again to their northern haunts without being minus an individual
of their "count."
But they are not permitted to depart thus unscathed. During their
sojourn within the limits of Lake Maracaibo their legions get
considerably thinned, and thousands of them that settle down upon its
inviting waters are destined never more to take wing.
To effect their capture, the Indian fowler, as already stated, makes use
of a very ingenious stratagem. Something similar is described as being
practised in other parts of the world; but in no place is it carried to
such perfection as upon the Lake Maracaibo.
The fowler first provides himself with a number of large gourd-shells of
roundish form, and each of them at least as big as his own skull. These
he can easily obtain, either from the herbaceous squash (_Cucurbita
lagenaris_) or from the calabash tree (_Crescentia cujete_), both of
which grow luxuriantly on the shores of the lake. Filling his periagua
with these, he proceeds out into the open water to a certain distance
from the land, or from his own dwelling. The distance is regulated by
several considerations. He must reach a place which, at all hours of
the day, the ducks and other waterfowl are not afraid to frequent; and,
on the other hand, he must not go beyond such a depth as will bring the
water higher than his own chin when wading through it. This last
consideration is not of so much importance, for the water Indian can
swim almost as well as a duck, and dive like one, if need be; but it is
connected with another matter of greater importance--the convenience of
having the birds as near as possible, to save him a too long and
wearisome "wade." It is necessary to have them so near, that at all
hours they may be under his eye.
Having found the proper situation, which the vast extent of shoal water
(already mentioned) enables him to do, he proceeds to carry out his
design by dropping a gourd here and another there, until a large space
of surface is covered by these floating shells. Each gourd has a stone
attached to it by means of a string, which, resting upon the bottom,
brings the buoy to an anchor, and prevents it from being drifted into
the deeper water or carried entirely away.
When his decoys are all placed, the Indian paddles back to his platform
dwelling, and there, with watchful eye, awaits the issue. The birds are
at first shy of these round yellow objects intruded upon their domain;
but, as the hours pass, and they perceive no harm in them, they at
length take courage and venture to approach. Urged by that curiosity
which is instinctive in every creature, they gradually draw nigher and
nigher, until at length they boldly venture into the midst of the odd
objects and examine them minutely. Though puzzled to make out what it
is all meant for, they can perceive no harm in the yellow globe-shaped
things that only bob about, but make no attempt to do them any injury.
Thus satisfied, their curiosity soon wears off, and the birds no longer
regarding the floating shells as objects of suspicion, swim freely about
through their midst, or sit quietly on the water side by side with them.
But the crisis has now arrived when it is necessary the Indian should
act, and for this he speedily equips himself. He first ties a stout
rope around his waist, to which are attached many short strings or
cords. He then draws over his head a large gourd-shell, which, fitting
pretty tightly, covers his whole skull, reaching down to his neck. This
shell is exactly similar to the others already floating on the water,
with the exception of having three holes on one side of it, two on the
same level with the Indian's eyes, and the third opposite his mouth,
intended to serve him for a breathing-hole.
He is now ready for work; and, thus oddly accoutred, he slips quietly
down from his platform, and laying himself along the water, swims gently
in the direction of the ducks.
He swims only where the water is too shallow to prevent him from
crouching below the surface; for were he to stand upright, and wade,--
even though he were still distant from them,--the shy birds might have
suspicions about his after-approaches.
When he reaches a point where the lake is sufficiently deep, he gets
upon his feet and wades, still keeping his shoulders below the surface.
He makes his advance very slowly and warily, scarce raising a ripple on
the surface of the placid lake, and the nearer he gets to his intended
victims he proceeds with the greater caution.
The unsuspecting birds see the destroyer approach without having the
slightest misgiving of danger. They fancy that the new comer is only
another of those inanimate objects by their side--another gourd-shell
drifting out upon the water to join its companions. They have no
suspicion that this wooden counterfeit--like the horse of Troy--is
inhabited by a terrible enemy.
Poor things! how could they? A stratagem so well contrived would
deceive more rational intellects than theirs; and, in fact, having no
idea of danger, they perhaps do not trouble themselves even to notice
the new arrival.
Meanwhile the gourd has drifted silently into their midst, and is seen
approaching the odd individuals, first one and afterwards another, as if
it had some special business with each. This business appears to be of
a very mysterious character; and in each case is abruptly brought to a
conclusion, by the duck making a sudden dive under the water,--not head
foremost, according to its usual practice, but in the reverse way, as if
jerked down by the feet, and so rapidly that the creature has not time
to utter a single "quack."
After quite a number of individuals have disappeared in this mysterious
manner, the others sometimes grow suspicious of the moving calabash, and
either take to wing, or swim off to a less dangerous neighbourhood; but
if the gourd performs its office in a skilful manner, it will be seen
passing several times to and fro between the birds and the water village
before this event takes place. On each return trip, when far from the
flock, and near the habitations, it will be seen to rise high above the
surface of the water. It will then be perceived that it covers the
skull of a copper-coloured savage, around whose hips may be observed a
double tier of dead ducks dangling by their necks from the rope upon his
waist, and forming a sort of plumed skirt, the weight of which almost
drags its wearer back into the water.
Of course a capture is followed by a feast; and during the fowling
season of the year the Maracaibo Indian enjoys roast-duck at discretion.
He does not trouble his head much about the green peas, nor is he
particular to have his ducks stuffed with sage and onions; but a hot
seasoning of red pepper is one of the indispensible ingredients of the
South-American _cuisine_; and this he usually obtains from a small patch
of capsicum which he cultivates upon the adjacent shore; or, if he be
not possessed of land, he procures it by barter, exchanging his fowls or
fish for that and a little maize or manioc flour, furnished by the
coast-traders.
The Maracaibo Indian is not a stranger to commerce. He has been
"Christianised,"--to use the phraseology of his priestly proselytiser,--
and this has introduced him to new wants and necessities. Expenses that
in his former pagan state were entirely unknown to him, have now become
necessary, and a commercial effort is required to meet them. The Church
must have its dues. Such luxuries as being baptised, married, and
buried, are not to be had without expense, and the padre takes good care
that none of these shall be had for nothing. He has taught his
proselyte to believe that unless all these rites have been officially
performed there is pot the slightest chance for him in the next world;
and under the influence of this delusion, the simple savage willingly
yields up his tenth, his fifth, or, perhaps it would be more correct to
say, his all. Between fees of baptism and burial, mulcts for
performance of the marriage rite, contributions towards the shows and
ceremonies of _dias de fiesta_, extravagant prices for blessed beads,
leaden crucifixes, and images of patron saints, the poor Christianised
Indian is compelled to part with nearly the whole of his humble gains;
and the fear of not being able to pay for Christian burial after death,
is often one of the torments of his life.
To satisfy the numerous demands of the Church, therefore, he is forced
into a little action in the commercial line. With the water-dweller of
Maracaibo, fish forms one of the staples of export trade,--of course in
the preserved state, as he is too distant from any great town or
metropolis to be able to make market of them while fresh. He
understands, however, the mode of curing them,--which he accomplishes by
sun-drying and smoking,--and, thus prepared, they are taken off his
hands by the trader, who carries them all over the West Indies, where,
with boiled rice, they form the staple food of thousands of the
dark-skinned children of Ethiopia.
The Maracaibo Indian, however, has still another resource, which
occasionally supplies him with an article of commercial export. His
country--that is, the adjacent shores of the lake--produces the finest
_caoutchouc_. There the India-rubber tree, of more than one species,
flourishes in abundance; and the true "seringa," that yields the finest
and most valuable kind of this gummy juice, is nowhere found in greater
perfection than in the forests of Maracaibo. The caoutchouc of commerce
is obtained from many other parts of America, as well as from other
tropical countries; but as many of the bottles and shoes so well-known
in the india-rubber shops, are manufactured by the Indians of Maracaibo,
we may not find a more appropriate place to give an account of this
singular production, and the mode by which it is prepared for the
purposes of commerce and manufacture.
As already mentioned, many species of trees yield india-rubber, most of
them belonging either to the order of the "Morads," or _Euphorbiaceae_.
Some are species of _ficus_, but both the genera and species are too
numerous to be given here. That which supplies the "bottle
india-rubber" is a euphorbiaceous plant,--the _seringa_ above
mentioned,--whose proper botanical appellation is _Siphonia elastica_.
It is a tall, straight, smooth-barked tree, having a trunk of about a
foot in diameter, though in favourable situations reaching to much
larger dimensions. The process of extracting its sap--out of which the
caoutchouc is manufactured--bears some resemblance to the tapping of
sugar-maples in the forests of the north.
With his small hatchet, or tomahawk, the Indian cuts a gash in the bark,
and inserts into it a little wedge of wood to keep the sides apart.
Just under the gash, he fixes a small cup-shaped vessel of clay, the
clay being still in a plastic state, so that it may be attached closely
to the bark. Into this vessel the milk-like sap of the _seringa_ soon
commences to run, and keeps on until it has yielded about the fifth of a
pint. This, however, is not the whole yield of a tree, but only of a
single wound; and it is usual to open a great many gashes, or "taps,"
upon the same trunk, each being furnished with its own cup or receiver.
In from four to six hours the sap ceases to run.
The cups are then detached from the tree, and the contents of all,
poured into a large earthen vessel, are carried to the place where the
process of making the caoutchouc is to take place,--usually some dry
open spot in the middle of the forest, where a temporary camp has been
formed for the purpose.
When the dwelling of the Indian is at a distance from where the
india-rubber tree grows,--as is the case with those of Lake Maracaibo,--
it will not do to transport the sap thither. There must be no delay
after the cups are filled, and the process of manufacture must proceed
at once, or as soon as the milky juice begins to coagulate,--which it
does almost on the instant.
Previous to reaching his camp, the "seringero" has provided a large
quantity of palm-nuts, with which he intends to make a fire for smoking
the caoutchouc. These nuts are the fruit of several kinds of palms, but
the best are those afforded by two magnificent species,--the "Inaja"
(_Maximiliana regia_), and the "Urucuri" (_Attalea excelsa_).
A fire is kindled of these nuts; and an earthen pot, with a hole in the
bottom, is placed mouth downward over the pile. Through the aperture
now rises a strong pungent smoke.
If it is a shoe that is intended to be made, a clay last is already
prepared, with a stick standing out of the top of it, to serve as a
handle, while the operation is going on. Taking the stick in his hand,
the seringero dips the last lightly into the milk, or with a cup pours
the fluid gently over it, so as to give a regular coating to the whole
surface; and then, holding it over the smoke, he keeps turning it,
jack-fashion, till the fluid has become dry and adhesive. Another dip
is then given, and the smoking done as before; and this goes on, till
forty or fifty different coats have brought the sides and soles of the
shoe to a proper thickness. The soles, requiring greater weight, are,
of course, oftener dipped than the "upper leather."
The whole process of making the shoe does not occupy half an hour; but
it has afterwards to receive some farther attention in the way of
ornament; the lines and figures are yet to be executed, and this is done
about two days after the smoking process. They are simply traced out
with a piece of smooth wire, or oftener with the spine obtained from
some tree,--as the thorny point of the _bromelia_ leaf.
In about a week the shoes are ready to be taken from the last; and this
is accomplished at the expense and utter ruin of the latter, which is
broken into fragments, and then cleaned out. Water is used sometimes to
soften the last, and the inner surface of the shoe is washed after the
clay has been taken out.
Bottles are made precisely in the same manner,--a round ball, or other
shaped mass of clay, serving as the mould for their construction. It
requires a little more trouble to get the mould extracted from the
narrow neck of the bottle.
It may be remarked that it is not the smoke of the palm-nuts that gives
to the india-rubber its peculiar dark colour; that is the effect of age.
When freshly manufactured, it is still of a whitish or cream colour;
and only attains the dark hue after it has been kept for a considerable
time.
We might add many other particulars about the mode in which the Indian
of Maracaibo employs his time, but perhaps enough has been said to show
that his existence is altogether an _odd_ one.