THE MORROS.
Early the next morning we were aroused by the trampling of horses and
tinkling of stirrups close to our resting places, apprising us that the
hour of departure was near at hand. To travel with comfort in those hot
regions, it is necessary to make the most of the absence of the sun,
before its rays descend to the earth in glowing streams, parching the
body and spirits of the traveller. Our people, therefore, commenced to
saddle and load as early as three o’clock A.M. The operation usually
occupied considerable time, as each animal had to be hunted in the dark,
as well as its accoutrements. The baggage mules, especially, required
more than ordinary skill in replacing and adjusting the loads upon their
backs by means of a hundred turns of the _lazos_, or raw-hide halters.
And even after the greatest precautions, the vicious creatures
endeavored to displace their loads by running against each other or
rolling on the ground, to the inconceivable disgust of the drivers, who
were often compelled to alight from their sumpters to put things to
rights.
Our road lay this day across a wild and desolate valley, presenting the
appearance of having once been the scene of violent convulsions of
nature, judging from the distorted masses of granite and gneiss piled
along the route. The morning, though moonless, was bright with stars,
which in those latitudes sparkle like diamonds in a setting of azure.
The air was balmy; and the solitude of the spot, only broken by the
occasional shriek of a night owl, or the refreshing murmur of a mountain
stream, was truly sublime.
Slowly winding our course down the rugged sides of a deep ravine, we
came suddenly in view of a most glorious spectacle. The delicate tints
of dawn were already gilding the rugged crest of the distant mountains;
above these rose in silent grandeur what appeared at first a heavy cloud
of an intense blue, the irregular outlines of which set in bold relief
against the transparent sky, forming the background to the picture. I
eagerly spurred my mule forward to gain an eminence from whence I could
contemplate more advantageously that magnificent spectacle, when, to my
great astonishment, I discovered that, what I had supposed a cloud, was
in fact the famous promontory known as the Morros de San Juan, the
singular conformation of which has given rise to many speculations and
legendary dissertations on the part of savants and others less versed in
scientific researches. When the sun rose above the horizon, a more
extraordinary scene was never unfolded to the eye of the spectator. The
huge and rugged mountain, some thousand feet high, stood in the midst of
a desolate gulf, apparently of volcanic origin; while the vegetation,
stunted and scrubby for want of adequate nourishment, contrasted
singularly with the granite masses scattered all over the valley. The
meandering rivulet of La Puerta, twice the scene of sanguinary conflicts
between patriots and Spaniards, threaded its sparkling way through that
Valley of Death, to mix its waters with those of the beautiful Guárico
in the distance. In both of those engagements the arms of Spain were
victorious; but, as often happened in those days of _guerra á muerte_,
the victors steeped their laurels in the blood of the vanquished with
unsparing hand. These triumphs were shared alternately by the monster
Boves and the sanguinary Morillo. It would be difficult to find two more
bloody wretches than these myrmidons of despotism, whose very names are
to this day the avenging cry against the race from which they both
sprang. The forces opposed to them in these engagements hardly amounted
to one-half their own numbers; but the patriots under Bolívar accepted
the battle with the despair of men who have no alternative between death
and an ignominious yoke. It is asserted that the rivulet became, on both
occasions, completely glutted with the gore and dead bodies of the
vanquished. Morillo had a very narrow escape from the lance of the
famous Juan Pablo Farfan, who deliberately attacked the Spanish
chieftain in the midst of his staff. Although the bold Llanero succeeded
in piercing the groin of the Spaniard with his lance, the wound was not
sufficiently deep to cause his death.
* * * * *
The rugged crest of the mountain surrounded by an atmosphere
resplendently clear, the wild and shattered rocks, piled like the giant
skeletons of an extinct race, together with the painful associations
connected with the spot, made an impression upon my mind not easily
forgotten.
Although I had often experienced a keen desire to see this natural
wonder of my country, I could not repress a feeling of regret at the
recollection of the sanguinary scenes enacted on this spot, and that my
first impressions of astonishment should be replaced by others of a less
pleasing character.
On awakening from the reverie into which the scene had plunged me, I
perceived for the first time that I was alone, my less contemplative
companions having proceeded on their journey while I was absorbed in
wonder. I felt glad of my solitude, for the very silence seemed to
breathe a prayer to the Almighty for the martyred children of Liberty
before one of his most glorious temples.
[Illustration]
We reached the village of San Juan in time to breakfast at the house of
our excellent friend Don José Pulido, a gentleman of most amiable and
hospitable disposition. While they prepared our morning meal, I repaired
to the outskirts of the village to sketch the Morros, which from the
distance appeared two huge castles in ruins. The continued action of the
waters has furrowed the sides of the mountain--composed principally of a
peculiar limestone--into many fantastic forms. The same wearing action
has in like manner perforated the calcareous rock into a thousand
subterranean passages or chasms of fathomless depth, it being asserted
by persons who have approached sufficiently near the entrance of these
caves, that a bowlder rolled down the abyss, is never heard to strike
the bottom. I regretted exceedingly that our short stay at this place
would not permit me to visit the interior of the main entrance to these
subterranean passages, no person ever having ventured within the dark
abode--as it is currently believed--of demons and the like. As a proof
of this assertion, the villagers point out to the inquisitive traveller
a spring issuing from that Tartarus highly charged with sulphurated
hydrogen gas, the fumes of which are in themselves sufficiently powerful
to convey the idea that something diabolical must be brewing in the
bowels of the stupendous mountain. The spring, however, possesses highly
medicinal virtues; on this account it is often visited by invalids from
various parts of the country, especially those affected with rheumatic
or scrofulous complaints.
During a heavy freshet, the bones of an antediluvian animal, supposed
to be those of a mastodon, were disinterred by the torrent in the bed of
a ravine. A portion of these bones were sent to us by our zealous friend
Don José, as a great curiosity; as such they were transferred to the
British Minister at Caracas, and finally consigned by him to the great
Museum in London.
The village of San Juan is likewise noted for its fine climate and the
total absence of epidemics. Invalids affected with pulmonary complaints
find there also an air and temperature most congenial. Beyond these
advantages, San Juan offers no other attractions to the stranger capable
of inducing a longer sojourn than is absolutely necessary, as not even a
ranch has been raised there for the convenience of those seeking its
beneficent waters.
After partaking of a substantial breakfast, composed of the most popular
dishes of the country, such as _carne frita_, _sancocho_, and some
delicious fish from the river Guárico, we bade adieu to our estimable
host, Don José, and continued our journey down the stony bottom of a
narrow _quebrada_ or ravine, noted for its many windings, and the
quantities of sharp stones that pave the way; these are evidently the
detached fragments of the basaltic formation constituting the base of
the Morros. At Flores, a miserable country inn like all the rest along
this route, we stopped a few moments to refresh ourselves with
_guarapo_, a kind of cider made from the juice of sugar cane, or by
dissolving _papelon_ in water and allowing it to ferment for a few days.
The guarapo of Flores is celebrated throughout the country, and no
person passing through this place ever omits to call for it. When mixed
with aguardiente, it forms what is termed _carabina_, (carbine;) the
effects rarely fail to knock down those who rashly brave its fire.
Our next stopping place was the village of Ortiz, a little beyond that
of Parapara. Taken together, they might be considered as the Pillars of
Hercules to the grassy Mediterranean of the Llanos, and the terminus of
civilized pursuits in that quarter, as there you find the last vestiges
of agriculture and the useful arts. In addition to small patches of
sugar cane and Indian corn raised by the inhabitants for their own
consumption, they excel in the manufacture of leather, saddles, and
their appurtenances, which they sell to all parts of the country. Beyond
this, nothing is to be met with but wild herds of cattle grazing on
prairies or steppes of vast extent, with the exception of the narrow
belt of park-like scenery intervening between these and a ridge of low,
rocky hills--_galeras_--which skirts the ancient shore of the great
basin of those pampas. The _galeras_ were doubtless the natural rampart
of that extraordinary body of waters which, at some remote epoch, must
have filled the space now forming the grazing grounds of Venezuela, as
attested by the nature of the soil and the organic remains found
imbedded in the clay.
I noticed at Ortiz the same trap formation of the Morros, with extensive
beds of basaltic slate protruding through the sides of the hills. Entire
columns of this slate, varying from four to five feet in length by six
inches diameter, are used in the village for paving the thresholds of
houses, their quadrangular form adapting them perfectly for this purpose
without any additional labor after being detached from the rock. The
action of the waters during the untold lapse of ages, or perhaps the
irruptions of the sea itself when it beat against the sides of the
hills, has caused the partial disintegration of the rock in many places,
and scattered the debris far and wide over the surrounding country.
Nevertheless, vegetation seemed nowhere affected in the least by this
vast accumulation of loose stones; on the contrary, wherever it was
favored by the depressions of the ground, trees of large dimensions,
noted for hardness and durability, sprang up, forming dense forests on
either side of the road. Foremost in the long catalogue of splendid
timber trees of Venezuela, we found there growing in great perfection
the _Vera_, or Lignum Vitæ--Zigophylum arboreum--the wood of which is so
hard that it turns the edge of the best-tempered tools; breaking or
splitting it seems equally impossible, on account of the interweaving of
its fibres, which cross each other in diagonal layers. This tree has a
wide range over the country, especially near the sea-coast, which
circumstance renders it extremely useful in the construction of wharves,
as well as for the keels of ships; the attacks of the teredo or seaworm
are futile upon the iron network of its fibres, on which account it can
remain under water for an indefinite period and eventually become
petrified. The useful _Guayacan_ or guaiacum of the arts, a nearly
allied species of this tree, is also found here in the greatest
abundance; unfortunately it is too short to be employed for the same
purposes as the former; it finds, however, numerous applications in
naval construction, especially for blocks and pulleys for the rigging of
vessels. Turners employ it likewise for various articles requiring
extreme hardness and a close grain.
The _Alcornoque_, a most beautiful tree, somewhat resembling the
American elm, and scarcely inferior to the foregoing, raises here its
graceful head above the rest, affording the cattle a permanent shade
even during the driest seasons. It must not be confounded, however, with
the well-known Spanish oak--Quercus suber--which yields the cork of
commerce. It is largely employed in the Llanos in the construction of
houses and fences. Braziletto wood--Cesalpinia braziletto--so celebrated
for its beautiful dye, is so abundant here also, that all the fences at
Ortiz and Parapara are made of this valuable dyewood.
The list of useful trees peculiar to this region could be extended
beyond the limits of this chapter, were it not for the fear of taxing
the patience of my reader with an abstract nomenclature. I cannot pass
unnoticed, however, two other trees of no less importance to the
natives, on account of their timber and medicinal properties; these are
the _Tacamahaca_--Elaphrium tomentosum--and the tree that yields the
precious balsam of copaiva--Copaifera officinalis. By making incisions
in the trunk and branches of both these trees, a resinous fluid,
possessing great healing powers when applied to wounds and other
ailments of the flesh, is obtained in great abundance and collected in
tin cans placed under the incisions. The former is particularly
abundant in the province of Guayana, where it attains to great
dimensions. Its resin, an opaque, lemon-colored substance resembling
wax, is very fragrant, and when mixed with that of _Caraña_ or
_Algarroba_, forms excellent torches which burn with great brilliancy,
and emit a delicious odor. The bark is also remarkable as affording a
material similar to that employed by the North American Indians in the
construction of their canoes, and used similarly by their brethren of
the Orinoco for their light pirogues. With this object the Indian
separates the bark without breaking, and cutting it of the required
dimensions, proceeds to join the extremities by means of _bejucos_ or
slender vines, filling the interstices with a little moist clay to throw
off the water; the whole is then well bound with stronger vines, and a
couple or more sticks are affixed between the borders of the pirogue to
prevent its collapsing when launched into the broad stream.