AN ADVENTURE WITH A BEAR--AN EXTRAORDINARY ECHO--I AM ATTACKED WITH A
FEVER, AND SUBSEQUENTLY DRIVEN FROM MY HUT.
"Give me, indulgent gods--with mind serene,
And guiltless heart--to range the sylvan scene;
No splendid poverty, no smiling care,
No well-bred hate, or servile grandeur there."
I had now become a sportsman--a Nimrod--my chief delight being found in
the use of my bow and arrows. Thus armed, I ranged the forest, or laid
in covert, to destroy any game which might come in my way. My
propensity for killing, however, soon led me into a scrape, the escape
from which nearly cost me my life; yet the lesson was thrown away on
me, for it in no way abated my desire to shoot and eat the flesh of
birds.
Early one morning I had taken my station behind a large tree, from
which I discharged an arrow at a mocking-bird. No sooner had the arrow
quitted the string, than I descried a bear, feeding on ants' nests, and
that in a direct line between myself and the bird shot at. The arrow
passed close by his ear; it might have struck him: be this as it may,
the bear instantly began to descend the tree, showing evident signs of
his intention to revenge the insult.
Not being disposed to confront such an enemy in an angry mood, I
instantly took to my heels; but had not proceeded far, before the
shaggy monster was near overtaking me. In this extremity I ascended a
tree, confident of being as good a climber as Bruin was. I had,
however, scarcely reached the lowest extending branch, before the
enraged beast was close on me. Fortunately, I had in my flight
retained possession of my stick; and as the bear had no means of
supporting himself but by clinging to the trunk of the tree with his
claws, I applied my staff with so much vigour to his feet, that he was
constrained to drop to the ground, whereupon his rage was great. He
then took a turn or two round the base of the tree to cool himself,
gave a growl, and seated himself under it, fixing his eyes on me. In
this position the disappointed monster remained, on his hind-quarters,
seven hours, watching my movements; till at length, growing weary of
his presence, and having read somewhere of the effect of the human
voice, I cried out loudly, mentioning several names, as if calling for
assistance. When speaking of the storm, I said that the thunder rolled
with ten thousand voices. The cause, however, of its multiplied tones,
was reserved for this adventure to make known. As I called out, I was
utterly astonished to hear my own words repeated several times in
succession;--the bear started on his feet; and after looking round, as
if in fear of an attack, took himself off at his utmost speed.
[Sidenote: An alarming echo]
Assured that I had heard human voices, I became more agitated than when
in company with the bear. It may appear anomalous; it is nevertheless
true, that the prospect, or thought, of meeting with human beings in
these wilds, always elicited agitation, or, more properly, terror.
The joy that hope brought of my emancipation was always mixed with an
alloy of indefinable dread of some coming evil. I remained in the tree
about an hour after the bear had departed, continuing to amuse myself
with the exercise of the voice, and listening to the repetitions of its
sounds. At length, when assured that the bear did not contemplate a
renewal of the attack, I descended from the tree, and again raised my
voice, and was again surprised to find that I had no response. This
struck me as very mysterious; and instead of seeking for natural causes
of the phenomena, I abandoned myself to superstitious fears, and
persuaded myself that I was on enchanted ground, while my mind indulged
in endless chimeras. Every effect is preceded by a cause, was a
sentence I had often heard my father repeat; and as it recurred to my
memory, I again ascended the tree, and repeated the experiments,
alternately, for some time, on the ground and in the tree. The result
was always the same, the voice being reverberated when in the tree, and
not so when on the ground. Again and again. I turned the matter over
in the mind, and could come to no other conclusion than that there were
persons somewhere in the neighbourhood, who could hear me from the
tree, but were too far off to hear my voice when surrounded with the
underwood on the ground. I now thought it my duty to find out the
persons from whom I supposed the sounds came, and was actually
preparing to start in search of them, when it suddenly flashed on my
mind that I had heard a similar phenomenon under a bridge near my own
native village, which the boys called an echo; yet as that gave only
one response, or echo, I was still perplexed to make out a cause for
hearing so many. This phenomenon, however, soon became a considerable
source of amusement to me, and by shifting my positions I found several
series of echoes: in some places the reverberations were six and
sevenfold, and in others they were so numerous as to run into
indistinctness. For a considerable time subsequently it was my wont,
on a Sunday, to ascend a tree after my devotions, and sing a line or
two, or a verse of a psalm which I knew, when the effect was something
like a number of voices in a place of worship, though the ear could not
compass the innumerable combination of reverberations. When the echo
was peculiarly distinct and near, and then taken up and repeated at a
distance, it conveyed to my imagination the idea of aerial spirits
answering each other. It was thus that the astonishing multiplied
reverberations of the thunder in this region were accounted
for--namely, the transmission of its sound from point to point.
[Sidenote: The honey-bear]
I saw no more of the ant-bear; but the honey-bear, which was more
common, and a fellow-depredator of the bees' nests with myself, often
crossed my path; and it required the exercise of much ingenuity and
caution to successfully compete with him.
In all countries where the collection of honey is made a profit,
various devices have been resorted to for deterring or entrapping the
rugged depredators. To enumerate them all would be a digression from
my narrative. The following are, however, among other successful modes
of dealing with bears who have a taste for honey.
The trees in which the bees are found the inhabitants lop close to the
trunk, up to the home of the bees, so that the bear has nothing but the
main trunk to assist him in climbing. These trees they sometimes stick
with spikes, and blades of knives, with the points upwards. These,
however, offer but small impediments to the bear in ascending the tree,
but as he cannot descend with his head foremost, he is compelled to
slide down, when the points are not so easily avoided, generally
lacerating him in such a manner as to deter him from making any future
attempt to rob hives situated in trees.
The experienced bear will, however, sometimes, as he ascends the tree,
break off the points, and secure himself a safe retreat. Entrapping
them is, therefore, a more successful practice.
In lopping the tree the peasants are careful to leave a branch that
extends out from the trunk above the hole where the bees have
constructed their hive. From such a branch they suspend, with four
ropes, a flat board, forming one scale of a pair, such as are commonly
used in open markets; when this is hung up it hangs pendant at a
distance from the trunk of the tree. When, however, it is prepared as
a trap, it is brought close to the body of the tree by means of a bark
rope, upon which it is fastened over the entrance of the hive.
The bear having climbed the tree, with difficulty maintains himself
with his claws while he commits the depredation, and is, therefore,
glad to find a seat so conveniently placed for him to sit on; but
seeing the entrance of the hole nearly covered with the bark-rope, he
immediately commences tearing it away, and, in so doing, liberates
himself from the tree, and becomes suspended in the air. In this
situation he sits contemplating the alternatives of remaining to be
killed when discovered, or venturing a leap to the ground; both,
however, lead to the same end, as stakes are placed to receive him on
their points, should he hazard a leap.
In cold countries, it is by no means uncommon for bears to attack human
beings; but in forests, within the tropics, where redundant nature
pours out her horn of plenty, and food is found in abundance throughout
the year, man, if he is not himself quarrelsomely disposed, may pass
without molestation. Both the ant and the honey-hear occasionally
visited my hut, having frequently detected them sniffing round my
barricade; but when I made my appearance, either on the roof, or in
returning from a ramble, they always walked away without manifesting
decided hostile intentions.
[Sidenote: The rains of Guiana]
I had now passed ten months in the forest, and had learned to dispense
with shoes, stockings, linen, and, indeed, with every kind of covering
for the body, excepting a wrapper for the loins, which I contrived to
make out of the remaining rags collected from the worn-out habiliments
I possessed when lost to my family. I had also combated with a wet
season, and this season was now again approaching, that is, January and
February, when the rains fall heavily; indeed, rain is no proper term
for a fall of water in a Guiana forest. Rain conveys the idea of water
falling in drops; there, the water comes bodily upon the earth in wide
sheets. And before they come, no notice is given; they send no _avant
courier_ of a few scattered drops to warn you of what is to follow;
they are their own messengers. In the intervals between every such
fall, the fervid sun resumes its influence, operating with such
intensity as to effectually envelope all things in hot steam. A
continuation of rain and excessive heat produces exuberant vegetation;
and these in turn, by the exhalations of its ripeness and corruption,
furnish back to the atmosphere an accumulating fund of distempering
miasma, or cause of malignant fever.
When the destructive effects of these influences are considered, in a
locality amongst the rankest productions of nature, and where in a
thousand places the water is pent up and sluggish,--prolific producers
of reptiles and noisome vapours--nothing but a miracle, through the
interposition of Providence, could have preserved me in health so long.
But my day of sickness was not to be altogether remitted, it was only
postponed, and then inflicted in kindness, to teach me prudence, and
the necessity there was for adopting proper precautions against evil
results.
My hut, notwithstanding the complacency with which I had selected the
site, was, after all, situated in the very worst place I could have
found in the entire forest. The former rainy season had inundated the
morass that lay in the rear of my dwelling, and had, indeed, threatened
me with submersion; yet I continued to remain there, as if nothing of
danger had occurred, and the air, impregnated with the fermentations of
collected vegetation for ages, was as healthful as that on hilly lands.
It is the province of experience to calculate or anticipate results;
how then could one so young as I was know that too frequently the
beauty which redundant nature presents to the eye, is but an indication
of its treachery to the constitution.
I had not then reflected on the condition on which mortals receive
life, namely, that of being associated with an inseparable companion
called care; a companion which never quits their side till they resign
up their souls.
In my isolated situation, it was natural I should seek to indulge the
sentiment of friendship with such companions as the locality afforded.
The interior of my hut was therefore a kind of aviary; and it was my
practice every morning to devote a couple of hours to teaching, and in
the amusement of feeding my companions; after which, I indulged, by
turns, the most docile with a walk into the interior of the wooded
parts of the forest. A land-tortoise had become so tame, that when, in
my rambles, I sat down to rest, I allowed him to seek his own food in
the immediate neighbourhood, and that without any fear of his wandering
far, even if unwatched.
The rainy season had commenced about three weeks, when one morning I
arose with an intense headache, excessive thirst, and a burning skin.
I hastened to the stream, drank copiously of cold water, bathed for
upwards of an hour, and then returned with my usual supply of water,
conveyed in a clay vessel, which I had baked in the sun. This, as were
similar vessels, was chiefly for the use of my family of birds, &c.
I remember perfectly well, the following morning, that, as was my
custom, I caressed the whole family; and, to avoid jealous bickerings,
to which some were prone, I bestowed on each an equal portion of
attention; and that subsequently I took up a tortoise and a
mocking-bird for my companions during a walk. I also remember, that as
I reached the aperture under the roof, the rays of the sun affected my
sight in a peculiar manner, and that a giddy sensation came over me;
but from that moment I lost all remembrance of what followed, being
unconscious of passing circumstances; until I found myself reduced in
flesh, and so weak and feeble, as to be incapable of rising from the
floor of the hut where I was lying. Under the opening, from whence I
must have fallen, lay a dead tortoise, the shell being crushed. The
sticks of which my aviary was composed were all torn asunder, and the
broken fragments strewed about the place. Several of my favourite
birds, with their necks wrung, were on the ground; the others were
absent. The vessel in which I had brought the water was broken into
pieces, and many parts of the hut exhibited proofs of an attempt having
been made to pull up the stakes of which it was formed. These were all
evidences that I had fallen down when attempting to leave the hut,
probably from giddiness or vertigo; that a violent fever had
supervened, and in that condition I had lost my reason, and the
consequent command of my actions--whence the devastation around me, and
the debilitated state in which I found the body when reason returned.
Soon after consciousness had made me sensible of my condition, I fell
asleep, in which I was carried into all kinds of illusory imaginations.
Among other fantasies, I dreamed that I was on the sea--walking--yet
bounded on either side with rows of myrtles in full blossom, intermixed
with jessamines; and that thousands of Cupids and Fauns preceded me,
strewing flowers in my way. These figures, carrying baskets, were
followed by Zephyrs, which supplied the flowers. I was in a state of
enchantment with the scene, yet every moment suffered from the dread of
sinking into the depths of the sea, until I thought the water would no
longer support me, when I awoke in the fright of being drowned.
[Sidenote: The power of prayer]
The fever had entirely left me, and I was in a measure refreshed by the
sleep I had had. I was now reflecting on the phenomena of dreams, and
the length of time the impressions they leave remain on the mind--for I
still heard the action of the water--when, after several efforts to
disengage myself from the illusion, as I thought, I was roused from
imaginings to a sense of the reality of what I heard. Plash, plash,
went the water against the exterior of my hut; and these sounds were
continuous and audible, so much so as to be unmistakable. Still I was
incapable of reaching the exterior to see what was the cause. My state
of alarm and agitation may therefore be better conceived than
described. Too feeble to use my limbs, I had no resource but in
prayer. Most sincerely did I offer the Supreme Being thanks for having
preserved me through my illness. I then prayed, that after such a
miraculous dispensation of Divine goodness, I might not be left to
perish in my helplessness. I believe that no one ever prayed from the
heart without acquiring some additional knowledge or strength of
purpose. May not this be because prayer is both an inquiry of the
intellect and of the affections; the one seeking for the truth, and the
other for what is good? Besides, pure devotion is thought, which
improves, at least, and helps the judgment.
After some time spent in this manner, I felt the perturbation of my
mind much abated, and in a frame to contemplate steadily surrounding
circumstances, and consider how they might be best dealt with. A short
time since, and I had looked on death as inevitable, either by drowning
or starvation; now, I reflected, that if the water had been very high,
it must have, ere this, penetrated my frail creation; and, if very
powerful, it would have swept the whole away without giving me any
notice whatever. It also occurred to me that I ought to have some
dozen or two of cocoa-nuts and a store of honey within my reach, as I
lay on the floor.
As I had not previously, on any occasion, made a store, I could not but
see the hand of Providence directing me to prepare for my present
extremity. These supplies were placed in a hole which I had made in
the ground for their reception, being covered with a piece of bark, and
a stone to keep it in its place. Fortunately, I had only to drag
myself a few yards, and take the nourishment I so much needed; although
it was not calves'-foot jelly and port wine, yet, in my then weak
state, it proved a very gratifying refreshment.
It is not possible for me to make any rational estimate of the length
of time I was under the influence of the fever, or of the period
employed in sleeping during my recovery. It is probable that it had
but a short, though a violent career; but the present exigencies were
too pressing to admit of much time being expended over the past.
Plash, plash, continued the water against the hut, and the floor began
to exhibit signs of its entrance into the interior. My situation was
now one of real peril. I made an effort to raise myself up to the
opening through which I mast pass to escape, but as I had first to
mount a stool formed of pieces of bark, and then to raise my body
several feet with my arms, before my head could reach the aperture, I
found my strength insufficient for the task. My distress was
considerably augmented by the impossibility of my taking any more rest
in a reclining position, as the water was rapidly covering the floor,
and the probability there was of the structure giving way on a sudden,
and submerging me in an instant of time. I seated myself on the
before-mentioned stool, with my feet and legs stretched over a
bird-coop that had not been entirely broken up.
Singular to relate, in this position I fell into a profound sleep, with
my back against the lining of the hut; the extreme of distress,
contemplated for a length of time, I believe has a tendency to produce
this effect.
[Sidenote: Perils of water]
I had fallen asleep as the moon went down, about an hour after
midnight; it was daylight when I awoke; the first object that caught my
attention being the staff, on which were the notches that formed my
calendar; this was floating on the water, now a foot or more in depth.
It is said drowning men catch at straws; the idea immediately came
across my mind that, with the support of the stick, I should be enabled
to effect my escape. I succeeded; and after wading about fifty yards
up to my knees in water, reached a dry spot of land, on which my first
act was to kneel, and offer up prayers of gratitude for my deliverance.
As a period of unconsciousness had occasioned a breach in my calendar,
and the true Sabbath was lost to me, I made the day of my deliverance a
Sunday, from which hereafter to reckon the days of the week.
Attenuated in frame, with weak limbs, but possessing a healthy stomach,
I dragged myself to a half-natural cave, at a short distance, which I
had previously cleared out as a place where I might find shelter from
the heavy rains, and where I could lie in wait to kill a head of game
without the fatigue of hunting for it. In this retreat I lived for two
days, solely on cocoa-nuts and honey; the third, I caught an armadillo,
which I dressed for dinner, and then resumed the practice of taking a
dessert in the afternoon, having abundance of fruit at my command.
It is one of the miseries inseparable from the condition of man, that
good and evil are presented under different forms; misery often
appearing to us under the mask of happiness, and prosperity under the
image of misfortune, teaching us to leave all in the hands of Him who
knows best what is good for his creatures.
I had no reason to complain, having within my reach blossoms, green and
ripe fruit, all on the same trees, and those in abundance throughout
the year, new soil for their growth being constantly formed by the
exuviae of the forest, which here keeps her sabbath in silence. But
even here, in the midst of plenty, man must not be idle. "The crab,"
say the negroes, "that does not leave his hole, never gets fat." As my
strength returned, my wants increased; and as animal food appeared to
be needed for the renovation of the frame, I was constantly engaged in
the pursuit of it; while, what leisure time I possessed became irksome,
from the want of a domestic establishment such as I had formed in the
hut.
[Sidenote: The first night in the cave]
Although my specimen of sylvan architecture was at no time more than
half submerged in water, and that without being broken up, I abandoned
it as being unsafe as a residence. Finding myself not only more secure
from the heavy rains, but much more cool in the cave, I now began to
fortify its entrance, to guard against night intrusions. In effecting
this object, the only one I kept in view while at work, I fell into the
error of neglecting to provide for the admission of sufficient air to
sustain life. The first night I passed in the cave, after completing
my barricade of bark, which served the purpose of planks of deal, I
could get no rest, turning and rolling about with an uneasiness I could
in no way account for, till the morning came, when the admission of air
made me sensible of breathing with more freedom, and at once explained
the cause of my previous uneasiness. The next day was spent in cutting
holes through the bark fence, to remedy so serious an evil as the want
of air.
Accustomed as I had been to the intimate society of birds and other
animals, their loss was too severely felt for me to remain long without
them; I therefore commenced the construction of a new aviary on the
outside of the cave, with a space beneath, to confine any of the small
kind of animals which might fall into my hands. One surviving tortoise
from the hut I had already brought into the cave. It was not long
before the entrance to my retreat somewhat resembled the display made
by a metropolitan dealer in animals, on the pavement before the steps
which lead to his lodgings in the cellar. Contentment is in no station
the lot of mankind. Although my new residence had many advantages,
nothing could compensate me for the loss of the security in which I had
every morning obtained a survey of the movements of the inhabitants of
the forest from the roof of the hut. I did not, however, indulge in
idle regrets, continuing to work on in constructing snares and traps,
to people my new dwelling-place; and when it happened that I wounded a
bird or animal, I derived a peculiar pleasure in attending to it till
its recovery was effected. When I had again collected a tolerable
number of friends, and formed some new attachments, a catastrophe
happened which occasioned me more regrets than any circumstance which
had previously befallen me in the woods.
[Sidenote: Slaughter of the pet birds]
Early in the day I had left my family all safe and well; they were of
course confined, but plenty of air and light was admitted through the
bars into their dwellings. I had the satisfaction of thinking they
were happy, even in their captivity; they were, however, all carried
off at one fell swoop, and I returned only to witness the desolation of
the scene. There is a small animal of the weasel species, having the
bump of destructiveness so strongly developed, that it seeks the
destruction of all other animals that cannot defend themselves from its
attacks; it is called the crabbodaga. One of these--or there may have
been an accomplice in the murderous business--crept between the bars of
the cage, and killed every bird and animal I possessed, excepting a
mocking-bird I happened to have out with me.
None but those who have reared birds from the callow state and have
given them a place in their affections, can appreciate my distress at
this disaster. The birds had been my companions--had dined, some of
them, at the same table every day, and over the dessert had amused me
with their conversation, or delighted me with their music. Reflecting
on this domestic tragedy, I resolved to convert the entire of the
abandoned hut into one large aviary, that is, as soon as the dry season
had entirely freed the place from water.
I had very little difficulty in trimming sticks, and binding them
together for fences, to confine the birds; but it was not so easy to
repair the loss of attached friends, who had reposed their confidence
in me, or to teach strangers an agreeable method of conversation upon a
given signal. I could now no longer give dinner-parties at home; I
therefore intruded on the entertainments given by others, for I did not
enjoy my meals alone. I did not often take a meal with gregarious
birds--those who moved in flocks,--yet many of these were excellent
companions in private; in a body they were generally too noisy and
fickle in flight to be depended on, except in the morning or evening.
The birds usually called social, were my favourites; these are such as
live in pairs, but assemble in parties at certain hours of the day to
dine on the same tree, sing in concert for an hour, and then part as
they came, each attended by its mate. At many of these entertainments
I was permitted to remain, without causing any surprise or confusion;
but then I behaved with proper decorum, and above all, did not forget
the manners and habits of those I visited.
Observing the monkeys to be very fond of the seeds that grew on a tree
called the _vanilla_, the Spanish name for scabbard, which the seeds of
the plant resemble, I one day presumed to join one of their parties at
meal time, and climbed a tree for that purpose, but was received so
very uncourteously, that I gave them up as incorrigible boors. That
they have no soul for music I have had frequent proofs while listening
to the song of the thrush in the breeding season; a period when these
birds select an elevated spot, generally the same every day, and pour
forth strains of peculiar melody. These songs the monkeys not only
disregard, but continually interrupt with their monotonous howls.
[Sidenote: Habits of birds]
The habits of birds are very peculiar, and distinctively marked; the
thrush sings to its mate, delighted with the prospect of rearing up a
new progeny; the nightingale, on the contrary, only ceases to sing when
his mate arrives to join him; being migrating birds, the male precedes
the female in making its passage from one country to another, and pours
forth his notes only while waiting for the arrival of the female.
If this bird is caught and caged before he is joined by his mate, he
will continue to sing in confinement, if afterwards, he will be mute.
Nothing is more remarkable in birds, or has perhaps been less noticed,
than their affection for each other, and for callow birds in general.
The cries from any one nest of birds will set all the old ones within
hearing into a state of extreme agitation, all flying up and down
anxious to inquire what is the matter, and what assistance they can
offer. He who walks through the woods, and can imitate the cries of
young birds, may at all times be certain of collecting old ones around
him, that is, in the breeding season.
The cry of young birds in the nest is in the forest what the cry of
fire or murder is in a city; it alarms all the neighbourhood; and the
knowledge of an enemy to their young being in the vicinity of their
homes, is to them much the same as going to bed next door to an
incendiary.
I have seen a blue jay--a very noisy and chattering bird--discover an
owl sitting in his hiding-place, and immediately summon a flock of his
feathered fraternity to his assistance. These surrounded the winking
_solitaire_, and opened a fire of abuse on him that might at a distance
be mistaken for a general disturbance in Billingsgate Market. The owl
opened and then shut his eyes, as if at first unconscious of the
meaning of the attack, and asking, "Can it be me you mean?" He,
however, was soon made sensible that he would not be suffered to remain
within their jurisdiction; and off he went, followed by a mob of birds,
who hunted him out of the bounds of their district. Clamorous as the
jay is against the owl for eating young birds, he himself I have
detected in tearing the callow young out of the eggs belonging to other
birds; yet he never fails to unite with the other feathered inhabitants
of the wood at the cry of danger.
The tender assiduities of birds in their attachments is no less
remarkable than their courage in defence of their mates and young ones.
The male, solicitous to please, uses the tenderest expressions, as
evinced by his manner; sits by his mate as closely as he can; caresses
her with a thousand endearing movements of the body and head: sings to
her his most enchanting warblings; and, as they are seated together, if
he espies an insect more agreeable to her taste than another, he takes
it up, flies to her with it, spreads his wings over her, and genteelly
puts it into her mouth. And if a rival or an enemy appear, his courage
in attack soon proves the ardour of his love.
[Sidenote: The mocking-bird and snake]
During incubation, the female is no less the object of his solicitude;
as birds have many enemies, the males feel that it is their duty to
watch over and protect their mates and young ones. I had every waking
hour opportunities of witnessing their courage, frequently seeing very
small birds attack the black snake, darting at its head, and pecking
the eyes till they either killed or drove away that enemy to their
brood. When these contests became doubtful, the females would leave
their nests, and hasten to the scene of action to render their mates
assistance.
The mocking-bird seldom fails to kill the snake single-handed,
instantly afterwards mounting the bush, to pour forth a torrent of song
in token of victory. These birds mount and descend as their song
swells or dies away; at times darting up with the celerity of an arrow,
as if to recover or recall the last strain of expiring melody. While
the mocking-bird thus exerts himself, a bystander, destitute of sight,
would suppose that the whole of the feathered tribes had assembled to
vie with each other in singing and in deceiving the sportsman, by
imitating the birds of which he was in pursuit. Their talent at
imitation is so extraordinary, that they can call the mates of almost
every other bird around them at pleasure.
The fascinating power ascribed to the black snake is an error. When a
snake is discovered in the vicinity of a nest, the male bird mounts a
spray, and in great agitation flutters his wings in a threatening
manner, till an opportunity offers of flying down to the attack. In
these encounters the snake sometimes succeeds in biting the bird, and
in injecting its venom, when the effect of the poison is so sudden, as
to paralyse the further efforts of the latter; hence has arisen the
supposed power of fascination, and the story of birds flying into the
snake's jaws. Instances of this nature I have witnessed, and if I had
not followed up my observations further, might have fallen into the
popular error of supposed fascination: but my experience informs me,
that when the bird is said to be spellbound, it is preparing to destroy
an enemy, in which encounter it generally comes off victorious.
Birds, as a class, possess as much intelligence, and more courage than
any of God's creatures lower in the scale of animals than man. The
instincts, or the propensities and precautions of animals, as in birds
developed, are as multifarious and as striking, if not more so, as in
other animals, not excepting the elephant and dog.
A thrush that I caught in a trap used to catch wasps, and after
plucking the wings off to prevent their escape, pressed the abdomen
with his bill, to force out the poison of the sting before he swallowed
it. I have frequently seen birds seize mice and reptiles, and after
examination reject them. In all such cases I have found that the prey
thus cast aside was sickly, or infested with lice. The birds seem to
reason thus: "If I take this sickly thing to my nest, I shall not only
carry my young ones unwholesome food, but shall carry a nuisance to
them, also." Another bird I had in my aviary, would carry food that
was too hard for his taste to his water, and there let it remain till
it was soaked to his palate.
[Sidenote: Departure from the cave]
Looking over my notched calendar, and transferring it in weeks and
months to another stick I was suddenly struck with the length of time I
had been shut out of society, and how wonderfully the Almighty had
preserved me. It then occurred to me that I had not exerted myself as
I ought to have done, to free myself from the intricate mazes of the
forest. Then, reflecting on the regular inundations of the morass, I
thought it was probable that the waters might come from a river, or the
sea; and as they had just then retired, I determined to start off
immediately, and pursue the margin to its source. Hitherto, security
at night had induced me to linger about favourite spots; I had now
surmounted childish fears; still I was sensible of the great risk I
should run of sleeping, night after night, in the open air; and this
reflection for a time deterred me from carrying out my plan. At length
I thought of the gipsies I had seen in the green lanes in England, and
then set to work to manufacture a substitute for the covers they use to
throw over the hooped sticks at night, with which they were wont to
form low booths. This I effected by platting and weaving long dried
grass, and when it was completed, I cut some poles of the lacaria; but
still doubting my own resolution to break up my establishment, I one
day, with a kind of spasmodic effort, liberated all my newly-collected
domestic friends and companions, some of which accepted of freedom
rather reluctantly. My attachments being thus dissolved, the following
morning I commenced my lonely journey, on the second day of which I
made a fire near to some shallow water, and was broiling a jay I had
killed for my supper, when the earth on which I sat began to move, and
instantly afterwards the embers were scattered about. Starting to my
feet with alarm, a crocodile about four feet long showed itself as it
plunged a few yards further off into a pool of mud and water. The
place on which I had lighted my fire, was a part of the swamp, crusted
over, probably, by the heat of that day's sun only. Every hour,
indeed, now brought me in contact with enemies, and exposed me to
privations I had avoided by making a home in one spot. But then I had
an object to attain, and I persevered for twenty days, at the end of
which I had the mortification to find that I had, like many others in
the world, progressed not a step, having travelled in a circle, which
brought me to the very threshold of my recent home. My chagrin was so
poignant, that I thought the very trees waved in derision at my folly;
and the same day I set out in another direction, which proved to be
directly south.
Every step I took informed me that I was a trespasser; the scene that I
had quitted appeared to have been ceded to me by the inhabitants of the
forest, who were willing for me to occupy it without molesting me, or
exhibiting any signs of alarm; but, as I moved from place to place, all
seemed in arms against me. My insatiable curiosity, too, was
everywhere offensive; nothing escaped my prying propensity, and I even
regretted that I had suffered the crocodile to escape that I might have
intercepted, had I been cool, and have driven to the land for
examination; I often, indeed, pushed my inquiries beyond the line of
prudence.
[Sidenote: An unpleasant nocturnal visitor]
One moonlight night I was favoured with a splendid view of the jaguar
under the influence of a hungry stomach, and in that state I saw him
seize his prey. I had spread my matting at the lower end of a tree
that had been torn up by the roots, between which I could creep and
hide myself; at the other end the branches extended into a small glade
or open space; when about midnight I was awaked by a tremendous roar.
Alarmed for my own safety. I crept between the roots of the tree,
pulling the covering after me, and in this situation raised my head so
as to look along the shaft of the fallen timber, about ten yards from
the end of which I could distinctly discern the jaguar, pacing up and
down, in a space of not more than thirty yards. His step was quick and
hurried, but so light that he appeared not to touch the ground; his
swollen and stiffened tail swept the ground, as it moved from side to
side. I instantly became anxious to ascertain whether his eyes were
directed towards any particular object, and more especially in the
direction where I was hid. I had the satisfaction of seeing their
fierce glance furtively cast in every direction but towards me; indeed,
I must have been invisible to him through the broken branches and
roots, at the distance he was from the tree, and amid the shade that
surrounded me.
The spot he had chosen for his nocturnal promenade was, I have no
doubt, a deer track, on which he had before in all probability snatched
many meals. His impatience evidently increased as his expectations
were delayed; he quickened, if possible, his step at every turn, till
at length he suddenly paused, and assumed a most exciting attitude.
His tail for a moment stood out perfectly horizontal, in a line with
his back; making gentle sweeps, as if of immediate expectation.
Suddenly he crouched on his belly, still moving his tail very gently;
at length the moment arrived: he gave one roar of horrid delight, and
the next, a deer was in his jaws, and growling, he seized and
dispatched it by twisting the head downwards with his paw. Finally he
gave the deer a shake, as if to assure himself that life was extinct,
and then, with a fling of the head threw the dead animal across his
back, and was lost in the thicket, depriving me of the satisfaction of
witnessing his manner of finishing the repast.
Strong in my resolution to arrive if possible at the extremity of the
forest, I continued to proceed, as I thought, in the same direction;
but I could not travel every day, being compelled sometimes to watch
through the night, and being frequently unable, while moving forward,
to obtain a sufficiency of nutritious food. When, therefore, I met
with a convenient retreat, I stayed and refreshed myself till I
acquired strength to undertake new labours.
Some scenes would irresistibly detain me, and if any one express
surprise that they should do so when journeying to seek the society of
my fellow-creatures, I reply that I did not at any time abandon the
hope of success; yet when the uncertainty of my course, without a
compass or guide, is considered, I never had a right to be very
sanguine in my expectations, use whatever efforts I might. In a
journey of such a doubtful nature, oftentimes worn down with fatigue of
body and despair of mind, it was natural to linger on and to rest in an
oasis longer than in a desert.
In a hot climate, cool retreats have peculiar charms, such as are
unappreciable by those who live in cold countries. The mere
topographical traveller may measure a lake, or a river, give the height
and angle of a projecting rock, describe the rush of falling waters
into an estuary, and trace the course of rivers from their rise to
their mouth, but he is unable to give the living tints of nature,
together with all their form and colour.
[Sidenote: Beauties of the forest]
Neither the pen nor the pencil can describe the feelings of those who
sympathize with nature in her secret homes of grandeur.
When I first entered the forest, the effect of the sublimity of the
scene was astonishment, in which the beauties were lost; but as
surprise wore off, these beauties, one by one, stood out to view; and
operating on the senses, produced pleasure in its highest state of
enjoyment.
In scenes where bignonias, passifloras, and a thousand other flowers
presented an unceasing display throughout the year, surrounded with
birds and insects of surpassing beauty, who, possessed of sympathy of
soul, or an ear for the sweet sounds of nature, would not for a time
forget mortality and live in imaginary eternal bliss; for the charm of
such scenes is only dispelled by awakening to the wants and necessities
of the corporeal man.
My existence was of such a nature,--one of alternate enjoyment in
communing with lonely and enchanting scenes, and of fears lest I should
fall a sacrifice to the dangers that environed my everyday movements.
Sometimes I sallied forth to face dangers, and again paused to breathe,
and, for a time, escape them.
At length I reached a new scene, consisting of sand-hills, out of which
issued springs of water, uniting at a short distance, where they formed
a stream, which appeared to wind over an open country. In comparison
with my solitude in the woods, this was a cheering change; and
recollecting the geographical axiom in my school-books, that all
springs and rivers ultimately find their way into the sea, I rejoiced
at the chance I had of being extricated from the labyrinth in which I
had been so long bewildered.
[Sidenote: Following the stream]
It is the fate of mortals to see the birth of pleasure only to witness
her destruction. Her commencement is always very nearly connected with
her end. The instant that gives her birth is generally the same in
which she expires. I had not proceeded far before the waters spread
themselves over the land, and were lost to the sight. In one or two
places their course terminated as if they were cut off with a knife,
one edge being visible and the other in obscurity, exhibiting the
phenomenon of rivers which suddenly take a subterraneous course, to
rise again at another point, leaving the space between perfectly dry.
Being now in an open country, I ascertained that the course I had
travelled was directly southward, or towards that part of the horizon
which was cut by the sun's culminating, or meridian line; and this
course I continued to pursue. A day and a half again brought me to the
stream, for, as yet, it was not entitled to be called a river. It now,
however, took a direction leading into the wood, among the foliage of
which it was lost to the eye. The emancipation from the forest had
given me the greatest possible delight, I therefore could not but
hesitate before I again entered it; yet it was my only certain source
of subsistence in the open country. I suffered both from hunger and
thirst. I had, therefore, no alternative but to follow the stream; and
on I went, its course winding so much that I began to fear I was
traversing another circle. At length, after giving me much wearisome
toil, it was lost in an impenetrable thicket of wood. I was now
constrained to make a very considerable and extended _detour_, in the
hope of again reaching its banks at some merging point. Three days I
journeyed round an impervious mass of wood, so closely matted that I
could at no point obtain an entrance. At the end of that time, I
suddenly lighted upon the spot where I supposed the waters met in one
broad reservoir. Various tributary streams flowed into this spot, and
continued their meandering course for many miles. I hailed the sight
of it with considerable delight, as I had begun to be fearful that I
was about to lose sight of its course altogether.