ACROSS THE PAMPAS.
Early in the morning of the fifth day, we left the Ranch at La Yegüera
to journey southward, followed by our long train of baggage mules and
relay horses, our good-natured host and keeper, Agapito, escorting us
for some distance in the double capacity of guide and entertainer.
Without his assistance it would have been difficult for us to proceed on
our journey, which lay across a rolling prairie, covered in some places
by magnificent groves of tall timber trees and a vast multitude of
slender, towering palms, which, by the glimmering light of the stars,
appeared like a mighty fleet of ships guarding the entrance to some
giant harbor. Although the morning was dark, and there was properly
speaking no road, but only a beaten track branching off in all
directions, our guide, who knew every inch of the ground, led us on
without once turning to the right or left, merrily chanting some of the
lively ballads of the Llanos. Occasionally he was joined by other bards
equally distinguished for their powers of voice and versification, thus
producing very animated choruses of a character peculiarly wild.
As the sun rose in the horizon, we came upon another extensive plateau,
the Mesa del Rastro, stretching for several miles, unbroken by a single
tree or shrub, but alive with numberless herds of cattle roaming in all
directions, while flocks of birds of every plumage, all new to me, flew
affrighted at our approach, filling the air with their wild, peculiar
cries. Among these, the Taro-taro, a large bird of the Ibis tribe, which
derives its name from its bell-like notes, and the Carretero or carter,
a beautiful species of goose with variegated plumage and crimson bill,
particularly attracted my attention. The latter is named from the
rumbling noise it makes when on the wing, similar in sound to the
rumbling of cartwheels on hard ground.
Continuing our march over this seemingly interminable plain, we at
length descried in the horizon the village of El Rastro, where we
purposed breakfasting and spending the hottest part of the day. We were
cordially received and entertained at the house of Señor Llovera, a
wealthy neighbor of ours, whose lands extended from the southern
boundary of San Pablo to this village.
El Rastro is noted for the beauty and fresh complexion of the women, in
spite of an ardent climate; and the males for their singular propensity
to abstract the hair from the manes and tails of horses stopping at
their village. This they often practise under the very noses of the
unfortunate owners, for the purpose of converting it into halters for
their own steeds. Thus many a fine animal, which is supposed to be
securely quartered for the night, is found next morning so shamefully
disfigured that he can scarcely be recognized by his owner, who swears
by all the saints in the calendar to take summary vengeance on the first
_rastrero_[24] who may chance to cross his path. Fortunately we had no
cause of complaint, as our droves were constantly under the
_surveillance_ of a dozen or more vigilant keepers, perfectly _au fait_
to the peculiar taste of that community.
The beautiful complexion of the women is the more extraordinary from the
fact that this village, which stands on the southern edge of the
plateau, is entirely exposed to the glare of a tropical sun, and the hot
breezes of the east. I nowhere met during my journey, such rosy cheeks
and sparkling eyes as in this miserable hamlet. I could almost fancy
them the fairies of the wilderness, bewitching the unsuspecting
traveller, while their perfidious helpmates practise their rascally
tricks.
These high terraces possess the advantage of being free from those
noxious exhalations which render the plains below so unhealthy at
certain seasons. Owing to the nature of the soil, mostly composed of a
loose conglomerate or shingle, no permanent deposits of stagnant water
are formed, endangering the health of the inhabitants, who are often
blessed with a “green old age” and the possession of unimpaired mental
and bodily faculties. Many are the instances where men attaining
seventy and eighty years are still able to take part in the hardy
ventures of the country along with their more youthful companions. Among
our own party we had several individuals of this class who, after
experiencing all the vicissitudes of a destructive war, had seen many a
hot summer roll by, and camped out amidst the drenching showers of the
rainy season, without any material change in their physique. Of these
were Santos Nieves, the horse tamer, whose only food consisted of jerked
beef, cheese, and _papelon_, upon which he had thrived admirably up to
the age of seventy; Crisóstomo, the negro major domo of San Pablo, who
had lost all recollection of his earlier days; Conrado, the horse
driver, whose age and experience in conducting our refractory _madrinas_
had entitled him to the revered appelation of _taita_ or father. But the
most extraordinary instance of longevity which has come to my ears, is
in the Monagas family, also hailing from those regions, the age and
number of whose members seriously alarmed the republic at one time; for
the multitude of their rapacious demands appeared endless. The patriarch
of the family is said to have attained the moderate age of one hundred
and twenty years, yet was able to scour the savannas on horseback after
the cattle up to the time of his death. The memorable José Tadeo, the
late Dictator and tyrant of the republic, is yet in his prime at the age
of seventy-nine, while his brothers Gregorio and José Francisco, whose
vandalic career of plunder and assassination was--happily for the
country that gave them birth--cut off by a late revolution, did not
show the least signs of unabated vigor at the time of their death,
although one of them was considerably older than Tadeo. And last, though
not least, the renowned zambo general, Sotillo, the pet bull-dog of the
family, to which, however, he bears no other relationship than that
existing among rogues of the same stamp: although then in his eightieth
year, he was able to carry on a successful partisan warfare against the
existing government. Without a roof to shelter him, and no other
equipment of war than the lance and horse, this savage chieftain, for
such he is by birth and education, has set at defiance all the forces
sent in his pursuit, and nearly brought the country to the verge of
barbarism in his strivings to uphold the iniquitous claims of this
rapacious family. Fierce in looks and menacing in tone, with a head more
like a polar bear than a South American savage, he has become for a long
time the terror of the eastern provinces, which are in constant dread of
his sudden attacks--now cutting off small detachments of troops and
defenceless individuals, now retreating to his fastness amidst the arid
plains of the Alto Llano at the approach of a superior force. He has
even succeeded in defeating such on two or three occasions by his
cunning manœuvring and the rapidity of his movements. During half a
century, his favorite occupation has been hunting wild cattle and waging
a guerilla warfare against society, which too often has been compelled
to yield to the savage demands of this Bedouin of the Llanos.
* * * * *
Having partaken of a substantial breakfast, we bade adieu to our kind
host, and again betook ourselves to our long and weary journey across
the Pampas. Descending to the plain, stretching for a thousand miles to
the foot of the Bolivian Andes, we at once entered into an entirely
different country, showing unmistakable proofs of a diluvial origin. The
soil, mostly a mixture of clay and sand, no longer offended the feet of
our horses with those extensive beds of pebbles so trying to the poor
beasts. The vegetation, also, whenever favored by some accident of the
ground, showed a marked difference in character. The thorny mimosas,
which only thrive in a gravelly soil, here disappeared altogether, and
were replaced by dense groves of laurel and other balsamiferous trees.
The Copernicia palms, so extensively used for thatching and other
economic purposes, re-appeared at first in a few scattered clumps, and
afterwards in countless multitudes, literally closing the perspective
with their tall, slender trunks. This beautiful palm is known in the
country under various names, according to the uses made of its separate
parts. These are almost as numerous as the leaves of its dense,
symmetrical foliage. Thus, by the rural architect of the Llanos, it is
called _palma de cobija_--thatch palm. When its leaves are plaited and
neatly braided into hats that never wear out, it bears the name _palma
de sombrero_; and when the same are employed in driving off the myriads
of flies that infest the premises, or in fanning the heated dweller in
those regions, it is called _palma abanico_; and so on through a long
catalogue.
A house thatched with this palm is not only impervious to the pouring
showers of the tropics, but against fire also, as it is nearly
incombustible: a hot coal dropped on it will only burn slowly where it
falls, without spreading or raising any flame. It is, moreover, very
durable and cool throughout the hottest months. All the fences and
corrals of the region where it abounds are made of the entire trunks of
this palm, while the cattle find a grateful shelter under its dense
shade. The slowness of its growth, observable even after centuries have
elapsed, is another curious peculiarity of this palm. When Europeans
first penetrated this wild region, they found extensive tracks covered
with low, apparently stunted plants, a few inches only above ground.
According to the recollection of the oldest inhabitants, of whom there
are many in the country, as I have already stated, these dwarfish palm
forests have not altered very perceptibly during their lives. It must
therefore have taken a full-grown plant thousands of years to attain the
height of twenty feet, which is their average size.
Emerging from these extensive _palmares_--palm forests--we again found
ourselves in the midst of the boundless plain, assuming here as desolate
an aspect as if fire had passed over its entire surface, a dreary waste
of dried-up swamps, parched by the burning sun. Dismal tracts of these
_terroneros_, as they are termed, lay before us, having the appearance
of an extensive honey-comb, over which our jaded beasts stumbled at
every step, increasing our weariness to a state almost bordering on
desperation. The action of the rains washing the earth from around the
grass tufts, which are afterwards parched and hardened by the heat of
the sun, leaves the surface of the ground covered with numerous little
clumps of indurated clay, so closely packed that there was no footing
for the animals.
Even the cattle seemed to have forsaken this inhospitable region, for,
with the exception of a few stragglers, there were no signs of
animation. Most of the cattle are transferred at this season to the
fertile shores of the Apure and Portuguesa; or they abandon of their own
accord these dreary wastes for well-known streams where they allay their
thirst. Ours was intense on this occasion, while the tantalizing mirage,
that singular atmospheric phenomenon so peculiar to arid deserts,
haunted us incessantly with its rippling, vapory phantom, a feeling in
which our poor beasts seemed to participate, as with outstretched necks
and ears they snuffed in vain the far horizon in search of the reviving
element. By an unpardonable oversight, our men had neglected to fill
their gourds with water, and now we felt the want of it.
These scenes have been described so graphically by the eloquent pen of
Humboldt, in his “Tableaux de la Nature,” that I will not attempt it
further, but refer my reader to the following:
“When under the vertical rays of the never-clouded sun, the carbonized
tufty covering falls into dust, the indurated soil cracks asunder as if
from the shock of an earthquake. If at such times two opposing currents
of air, whose conflicts produce a rotary motion, come in contact with
the soil, the plain assumes a strange and singular aspect. Like
conical-shaped clouds, the points of which descend to the earth, the
sand rises through the rarified air in the electrically charged centre
of the whirling current, resembling the loud waterspout dreaded by the
experienced mariner. The lowering sky sheds a dim, almost straw-colored
light on the desolate plain; the horizon draws suddenly near; the steppe
seems to contract, and with it the heart of the wanderer. The hot, dusty
particles which fill the air, increase its suffocating heat, and the
east wind blowing over the long-heated soil brings with it no
refreshment, but rather a still more burning glow. The pools, which the
yellow, fading branches of the fan palm had protected from evaporation,
now gradually disappear. As in the icy north the animals become torpid
with cold, so here, under the influence of the parching drought, the
crocodile and the boa become motionless and fall asleep, deeply buried
in the dry mud. Everywhere the death-threatening drought prevails, and
yet, by the play of the refracted rays of light producing the phenomenon
of the mirage, the thirsty traveller is everywhere pursued by the
illusive image of a cool, rippling, watery mirror. The distant palm
bush, apparently raised by the influence of the contact of unequally
heated, and therefore unequally dense strata of air, hovers above the
ground, from which it is separated by a narrow intervening margin.”
Indeed, so perfect was this illusion of the mirage, that on one occasion
Mr. Thomas and myself were entirely deceived by the appearance of a
beautiful lake which we prepared to sketch. But what was our surprise
when, on climbing a tree to obtain a better view, the phantom
disappeared as if by magic! This occurs whenever the spectator places
himself above the line of the natural horizon.
At length we reached a solitary pool of muddy water in the midst of the
savanna, which was hailed with joy by man and beast; but, on nearer
inspection, the thirsty travellers were seized with disgust and
disappointment on seeing several dead and dying animals embedded in the
mud. These quagmires form extensive barriers in some places, especially
in dried-up creeks where hundreds of animals perish every year, being
unable to extricate themselves from the adhesive quality of the clay. At
our approach two hideous alligators rushed into the pond, and thus the
scanty portion that had not been disturbed by the tramping of animals
was in a moment thickened like the rest. However, there being no other
alternative, we were compelled to follow the example of our sturdy
Llaneros, who proceeded without much consideration to dip their
calabashes into that species of mud soup; then covering the mouths of
the _totumas_ with our handkerchiefs, we sucked through them this
miserable substitute for water.
About noon we descried a speck in the horizon, looking like a sail at
sea. Increasing in size as we neared it, it soon appeared to be a
solitary mound or promontory; by degrees it assumed more distinctness,
finally presenting to our view all the luxuriance of tropical
vegetation. This was the Mata de San Pedro, a sort of island grove of
splendid forest trees, which, like a veritable oasis, stood in the midst
of those desert plains, a relief to the parched and wayworn traveller.
_Mata_ is the name by which the natives designate these lovely gems of
the Pampas, no less cherished than are those of the famed African Desert
by the wearied caravan; like them, they receive appropriate names from
some peculiarity of feature or other trivial cause, as Mata Gorda, Mata
Redonda, &c. But whatever be the name, all hail with joy these verdant
bowers, a cool retreat to every species of animal in summer, and a safe
refuge during the season of floods, for, being somewhat higher than the
surrounding country, they are rarely overflowed by the periodical
inundations.
* * * * *
It was entirely dark on our arrival at the Mata, and we were then so
weary that there was little inclination evinced to make any preparations
for supper, and we were also greatly in need of water. Although the
earth was parched by the long drought, Providence has placed a few feet
below the surface an unlimited supply of the purest water. This can be
obtained at any time by merely digging for it with a wooden pole
sharpened at one end. In the present instance we were spared this
trouble, as some of our people, well acquainted with the place, knew
where one of these primitive wells could be found. Our first business,
therefore, was to seek for the _jagüey_ in spite of the deadly
rattlesnakes said to abound there. From this we obtained sufficient
water for ourselves and riding horses, the other animals being left to
shift for themselves, always under the close vigilance, however, of the
watchmen appointed for the night. These men had a hard task: apart from
the fatigue of keeping awake and on horseback all night, they were in
constant fear of a sudden stampede among the horses, which not
unfrequently occurs. To provide against a contretemps of the sort, those
in immediate use were secured nightly by straps attached to the feet,
which prevented their straying far from the camp.
We rose very early, judging from the height of the _Lucero_ or morning
star--which in those solitudes takes the place of town clock--whose
brilliancy almost equals that of the full moon. I nowhere recollect
having seen this gorgeous luminary of morning shed such radiant streams
of light as in the ever-cloudless sky of the Llanos during the summer
months. In equal proportion all the other heavenly bodies seem there to
vie with each other in heightening the splendor of that glorious
firmament, cheering the heart of the wanderer who finds himself, like
the mariner on the high seas, encompassed only by the vault of heaven,
whose glowing lamps were then our unerring guide towards the south,
enabling us to dispense with compass or any landmarks by which to direct
our course. Towards evening, we deviated a little from it, hoping to
reach a cattle-farm, intending to pass the night there; but our horses
being almost exhausted from the roughness of the ground, compelled us to
stop by the banks of a treeless creek abounding in alligators; this we
knew by the strong odor of musk which pervaded the air. In spite of
their proximity, which made me start more than once in my dreams, we
slept soundly in our ponchos on the hard ground, for want of trees from
which to sling our hammocks. This lack of firewood compelled us also
[Illustration: A PRAIRIE ON FIRE.]
to go supperless that night and without breakfast next morning. After a
long search we finally succeeded in collecting a handful of drift wood
along the banks of the creek, enabling Mónico to make us a stimulating
cup of coffee in which to “drown our sorrows.”
Midday brought us to the cattle-farm we were in quest of, when immediate
preparations were made for an ample meal, which should compensate us for
previous privations. The overseer informed us that not far from the
house was a herd of cattle bearing our brand. Thither we despatched two
men in search of the fattest among them. In a short time they returned
with a fine cow, which was speedily slaughtered and spitted before a
blazing fire kindled under three stupendous mimosa trees bearing flat,
kidney-shaped legumes or pods six inches in circumference. Our hunger
appeased, we spread our ponchos under the shade of these giants of the
vegetable world, and slept until noon, when we were again in our saddles
prosecuting the journey through a less monotonous landscape. The plain,
although still preserving the same rough character, was diversified with
groves of other leguminous trees, (Cañafistulos,) the pods of which were
nearly three feet in length, and contain a black pulp valuable as a
cathartic.
Towards evening we were gratified by seeing, for the first time, that
splendid spectacle, a prairie on fire. The grass, parched with the
burning sun, is purposely fired by the natives to promote the growth of
the new crop, which last, owing to the heavy dews, starts long before
the rainy season sets in. The conflagration extended for more than
three miles, the strong evening breeze driving it onward in curling
fiery billows. Volumes of smoke loaded with burning particles of grass,
ascended in clouds, increasing the grandeur and beauty of the scene by
their various tints of red, pink, and purple, diffused throughout the
atmosphere. Aided by this illumination, we were enabled to discover a
solitary ranch, where we tarried the remainder of the night, although
there was nothing to be had there in the shape of edibles. Fortunately
one of our party had shot a number of wild ducks in a lagoon, and a
provident individual had saved some choice morsels of the cow. There was
some difficulty in procuring wood enough for a fire, but a couple of
rafters from the old ranch afforded the needful fuel, and thus we were
happily prevented passing a supperless, as well as comfortless night.
Many hours before daybreak we were again up, saddling and loading our
animals, which, owing to the darkness, was always the most irksome part
of the journey. We were, however, most happy to bid adieu to the
solitary ranch with its myriads of bats, the only tenants we encountered
there.