LA PORTUGUESA.
Again we were under way, and again our eyes encountered only the flat
monotonous plain on all sides sweeping to the horizon, varied only in
being more barren, rougher, and consequently more exhausting to our
horses than any of the preceding. Many of the riders dismounted, that
the poor brutes might be relieved as much as possible, and accomplished
the remainder of the journey on foot. This occasioned a burning thirst,
which the scant supply of water in our gourds was not sufficient to
allay; and it was not until noon had long passed, that our guides,
pointing to a blue ridge of forest in the distance, informed us it
marked the course of the river Portuguesa, our intended halting place,
and on the borders of which we purposed spending several days. The
cavalcade, inspirited by this view, pressed forward as rapidly as their
exhausted condition would permit, and fortunately reached the pass
before nightfall.
This beautiful river has its rise in the mountains of Trujillo, and
connects the fertile province of Barinas with the sea, through the Apure
and Orinoco, being in fact one of the principal tributaries of the
former. Its commercial advantages, as may be imagined, are of great
importance to the interior of a country so distant from the ocean, and
whose principal products consist in the bulky yield of the plantations.
It is navigable during a great portion of the year, especially for steam
vessels, and I am happy to learn that the great civilizer of the
world--steam--has at length been introduced there through the
enterprising energy of some Yankee speculators.
The banks of the river, being both high and precipitous, a passage to it
can only be accomplished at certain points, where the hand of man and
the tramp of animals have cut deep trenches, forming paths to the
water’s edge. On this occasion, we sought the pass of San Jaime, where a
ferryman is stationed with a canoe to take across any who desire it.
Horses, however, being excellent swimmers, are left to ferry themselves
over. Our first care on arriving of at the pass was to unload our beasts
of burden, and unsaddle our steeds for the purpose of allowing them to
cool before entering the water, a precaution which, if neglected, not
unfrequently proves fatal to both man and beast. This duty fulfilled, we
proceeded to hail the _Canoero_, whose ranch was perched upon the south
bank of the river. The knowledge that he would receive a “real” for
every man and beast that crossed, besides various perquisites from
passengers whom he supplied with meals during their sojourn at his
ranch, so expedited his motions, that in a few moments his frail barge
received its first load, each person taking his own chattels with him. A
boy of fifteen, naked and sunburnt, paddled the canoe, while the
ferryman steered it by means of his _canalete_. The utmost care was
necessary to prevent the overturn of the crazy skiff, which reeled at
every stroke of the paddle, threatening to pitch all its contents
overboard. As soon as we landed on the opposite shore, the boat returned
for a second load, and the trips were repeated until the whole party had
crossed. There now only remained the horses, who being extremely shy of
deep water, required to be forced to swim across, an operation demanding
considerable skill on the part of the drivers. The only way was to give
them an example; accordingly two expert swimmers, divesting themselves
of clothes, jumped upon the bare back of their horses and plunged
incontinently into the stream. Then, sliding off to one side, they
allowed the horses to swim without encumbrance, supporting themselves
with one hand upon the animal’s haunches, while with the other they
guided them by means of a halter. Meanwhile, those that remained on
shore set up a tremendous shouting and yelling, at the same time shaking
their ponchos violently with the intent to frighten all the rest of the
troop down the steep embankment, where, encouraged at the sight of the
two ahead, they all entered the stream and followed their leaders
without further difficulty. Several large crocodiles, who had watched
all these proceedings from the middle of the river, alarmed by the
confusion, disappeared from view, and then the heads only of the leaders
and their steeds rose, puffing and snorting, above water. In spite,
however, of all the uproar, one of these men was instantly attacked by
caribes, and very narrowly escaped serious injury from them. I was
standing at the time on the opposite side of the river, watching this
novel mode of ferrying, and observed that the man, abandoning his horse,
endeavored to reach the bank by long strides, occasionally lashing
himself with a coiled lazo he carried in his hand. It immediately
occurred to me that he might have been attacked by crocodiles, a belief
which was strengthened on seeing the poor fellow’s sides streaming blood
as he stepped upon the beach. My first apprehension was quickly
dispelled by his pointing to a circular wound on his shoulder, about the
size of a quarter dollar, and to others as severe on various parts of
his body, inflicted by caribes. Had the man been a less expert swimmer,
or the water less agitated, the accident would undoubtedly have proved
more serious; as it was, we were considerably alarmed for the fate of
the other man, who, however, happily escaped unhurt.
The surprising boldness of these diminutive fish, naturally increased my
anxiety to examine more minutely into their peculiarities, than I had
yet the opportunity of doing. I therefore determined to procure fresh
specimens, if possible. On a former occasion I had lost most of my trout
hooks, but I still preserved some larger ones, mounted with copper wire,
to be used in the rivers of the Apure; these I supposed proof against
the teeth of any fish, and no sooner were we established in the ranch of
the ferryman, than, taking my lines I hastened to the river accompanied
by my English co-laborer, the artist. The hooks were baited with pieces
of fresh beef, and dropped with great precaution near the shore.
Scarcely did the bait touch the water, when it was seized by caribes.
Without allowing them time, as it seemed, to get the whole of it between
their jaws, we pulled in the lines, but, alas! minus hooks, as well as
bait. On examination, we discovered that one of the hooks had been cut
through, while the other was severed from the wire. Still, we
persevered, but invariably with the same unfortunate result.
Greatly annoyed, I turned to question a Llanero, who stood near laughing
at what he considered my simplicity. Another tapped me gently on the
shoulder, and addressed me with “_Niño_, you might as well attempt to
catch a rattlesnake by the tail” (a favorite expression among them) “as
to think of hooking one of those chaps.” What is to be done, then? for I
must have at least a couple of these scoundrels, said I. “Who ever saw a
genteel young gentleman like yourself, with a taste for such disgusting
creatures?” he replied, imagining that I wanted them for eating. On my
explanation that my object was simply to sketch and preserve them in
spirits, they advised me to procure a piece of tough skin from the head
of an ox which was then being slaughtered, and to suspend it from a
strip of the same material. I immediately followed their instructions,
and shortly repaired again to the river. Seating myself on the stern of
the canoe, which was moored across the stream, I dropped my novel bait
into the water, and watched for the result with the utmost interest. In
a moment a shoal of caribes collected around the bait and commenced
attacking it voraciously. Finding the thick cartilage too tough even for
their sharp teeth, and unwilling to give it up, they continued gnawing
at it like so many little hyenas. When I imagined them to be fairly
“stuck” through the thick skin, I lifted the whole concern over the side
of the canoe, and had the satisfaction of seeing about a dozen of the
fish dancing at the bottom of my barge. Finding this novel style of
fishing rather easy and entertaining, I continued it until I was
suddenly apprised into whose company I had thrust myself by feeling the
heel of my left foot seized by one of the captives with such violence as
caused me to drop my bait, with the vicious creatures that were hanging
from it, into the river. My only thought now was how to contrive my
escape, having the whole length of the canoe to traverse, and its floor
paved with these ravenous little wretches. My first impulse was to
spring overboard; but a moment’s reflection convinced me that it would
be a jump from the “frying pan into the fire.” Placed thus, as it were,
between Scylla and Charybdis, I again appealed to the ingenuity of my
former advisers for deliverance. This they readily accomplished by a
very simple contrivance, consisting of a gunny bag, which they spread
over the gaping draught of fish. In a moment their sharp teeth were
again at work, this time among the tough fibres of the bag, to which
they clung with the tenacity of bull-dogs, thus enabling us to fish them
out again without difficulty.
My biting experience of these little pests left me in no mood to spare
them, and I never missed an opportunity of provoking a bloody conflict
among them. With this view I made it my daily business to scatter pieces
of flesh in the river, which never failed in attracting great numbers to
the spot. These devoured the meat in a few moments, after which, being
themselves of a red hue, and mistaking each other for the meat, they
continued the feast by devouring one another, until few of them remained
alive. Thus I accomplished my revenge upon these cannibals of the finny
tribe. The pike and the caribe are, I believe, the only fish which
devour those of their own species when disabled. “As no one dares to
bathe where it is found,” remarks Humboldt in his travels, “it may be
considered as one of the greatest scourges of those climates, in which
the sting of the mosquitoes and the general irritation of the skin,
render the use of baths so necessary.”
Fortunately for mankind, these fish are subject to a yearly mortality
during the heats of summer, when the water is deprived of a portion of
the air it holds in solution. Their carcasses may then be seen floating
on the water by thousands, while the beach is strewn with their bones,
especially their bristling jaws, which render walking barefoot on the
borders of lagoons extremely dangerous.
To judge from the incessant turmoil in the river at all hours of the
night, besides evident proofs of their depredations during the day, I
concluded that the havoc they commit on the other denizens of the water
must be very great. Even the armor-clad crocodiles are not exempt from
their attacks, when wounded in their own quarrels, as they sometimes
are, during the season of their loves, for even crocodiles are subject
to jealousy, that other “green-eyed monster.”[25]
The Waraun Indians, whom the first tribe of cannibals, the Caribs,
compelled years ago to seek a refuge among the flooded lands of the
great Delta of the Orinoco river, and who in consequence live in huts
raised on posts above the water, without even the allotted space of dry
ground to deposit their mortal remains, have adopted the curious custom
of preserving the bones of their deceased relations suspended from the
roof of their aerial dwellings; but having no skilful anatomists among
themselves to strip the body of the more perishable flesh, they avail
themselves of the voracious habits of this fish for so essential a
performance. For this purpose they tie the corpse with a strong rope,
and plunge it in the water, securing the other end of the rope to one of
the pillars upon which their dwellings rest: in less than twenty-four
hours the skeleton is hauled out of the water perfectly clean, for the
teeth of the caribe have stripped it of flesh, arteries, tendons, etc.
Now all that the mourners have to do is to separate the bones, which
they arrange with much care and nicety in baskets made for the purpose,
gaudily ornamented with beads of various colors; and so well have they
calculated beforehand the space the bones will occupy in the funereal
urn, that the skull, tightly adjusted against the sides of the basket at
top, comes to be the lid of it.
During the annual inundation of the savannas, when quadrupeds perish by
thousands in the vernal deluge, the caribes have ample field for their
voracity; but living animals are not exempted, for they prey with equal
fierceness upon the young calves when wading through the marshes, and
upon the mothers, whose udders they so mutilate, that the young ones
frequently perish from lack of nourishment. The poor cattle lead about
this season a truly miserable life. Those that escape the teeth of the
caribe, the coil of the anaconda, that great water serpent, or the jaws
of the equally dreaded crocodile, are in continual danger of falling a
prey to the lion or the jaguar, while congregated upon the _bancos_ and
other places left dry amidst the rising waters. None, however, escape
the tormenting sting of myriad insects which, until the waters subside,
fill the air they breathe. Even at night, when all created beings should
rest in peace, enormous vampires, issuing from the gloomy recesses of
the forest, perch upon the backs of the sufferers and suck their life
blood, all the while lulling them with the flapping of their spurious
wings. In fact, it seems as if in these regions all the elements
conspired against these useful creatures; for, after these varied evils
have abated with the return of the dry season, the hand of man is also
continually against them in harassing hunts, or in firing the ripe
pastures which sweep their realms in devastating fury, driving them in
consternation from the fields of their enjoyment.
The crocodiles of this river are noted for being the most savage and
daring in the Llanos. Although usually styled yellow caymans, to
distinguish them from the common alligator, which is of a darker hue,
they are in fact real crocodiles, with an acute snout, like those
inhabiting the Nile and other celebrated rivers of Africa.
* * * * *
While walking along the banks of the Portuguesa, one may see these huge
lizards collected in groups of half a dozen or more, basking in the
sunshine near the water, with their jaws wide open until their ghastly
palates are filled with flies or other creatures alighting within them.
We tried in vain shooting them with guns; the reptiles were so wary,
that the moment we took aim they rushed into the water. Being at a loss
how to procure a subject for my pencil, I sought the advice of an old
man, an angler by profession, who lived in one of the huts near the
river. He agreed to let me have his canoe with his son to paddle it, and
the requisite number of harpoons, providing I could obtain the
assistance of an Indian boy from the neighborhood, who was a capital
marksman with the bow and arrow. “What!” I exclaimed in astonishment,
“do we expect to kill one of these monsters with so slight a thing as an
arrow?” “No, Señorito,” he calmly answered; “but you must first know
where to find him under water before you can strike him with the
harpoon; the arrow of which I speak is the kind we use in catching
turtles.” These arrows are constructed so as to allow the head, affixed
to the shaft somewhat in the manner of a lance, to come off the moment
it strikes an object in the water. A slender cord, several feet in
length, connects it with the shaft, which last is made of a light,
buoyant reed; around this the cord is wound closely until it reaches the
point where the head is, then fastened securely. The shaft being
extremely light, floats on the surface of the water the moment it is set
free from the head by the struggles of the animal, thus acting as a
guide for its recovery.
The old angler then proceeded to explain that the operation must be
conducted first by sending one of these arrows into the body of the
crocodile to mark his position under water; and then, if practicable, we
might plunge a harpoon into the only vulnerable spot we could hope to
reach, viz., the nape of the neck, after which the animal could be
easily dragged on shore by means of strong ropes attached to the
harpoon.
Accordingly, I went in search of the Indian boy, whom I found under a
tree, seated like a toad on his haunches, skinning a porcupine he had
just killed. At my approach he raised his head and fixed on me his
unmeaning eyes. When spoken to, he only replied to all my questions with
the monosyllables, _si_, _no_. After a little coaxing, and the promise
of some fish hooks, he followed me to the canoe without uttering a word
more. We were not long in getting a chance to test the skill of my new
acquaintance. As we approached the river banks, a large crocodile hove
in sight, floating down the stream like a log of wood. Our position was
most favorable to send an arrow rattling through his scales, and my
young Nimrod lost no time in improving the opportunity. Stepping a few
paces in advance, and bending gracefully over the precipice, he let fly
at the reptile’s head his slender, yellow reed, _por elevacion_, viz.,
shooting the arrow up into the air at an angle of forty-five, which
causes it to descend with great force upon the object, after describing
an arc of a circle in the manner of a bomb-shell. Although the distance
was fully three hundred paces, the arrow struck the mark with the
precision of a rifle ball. A violent plunge of the huge reptile was my
first intimation that the trial had been successful, and a moment after
I perceived the golden reed, now attached to him, skimming swiftly over
the surface of the water. We hastened for the canoe, and immediately
gave chase up the stream, as the crocodile had taken that direction. We
were rapidly gaining upon him, when, alarmed at the sound of the
paddles, he sunk in very deep water, as was indicated by the reed. This
circumstance rendered it impossible to employ our harpoon. We tried in
vain to start him; he stuck to the muddy bottom whence neither pulls nor
curses could move him. We hoped that in time he would come to the
surface to breathe, and then we might strike him with a harpoon; but in
this we were equally disappointed. After waiting for him two hours, we
gave him up, along with the arrow head sticking in his own.
I made various other attempts to secure a specimen, but with no better
result, as the river was yet too high to sound for them.
While in this place, I was told several incidents in relation to the
cunning and instinct of these saurians, one of which appeared to me most
remarkable in an animal of the reptile tribe. The ferryman here
possessed at one time a great many goats. One day he perceived that
several of them had disappeared, and not being able to account for it in
any other way, he at once laid the blame on the hated crocodiles,
although these creatures seldom carry their attacks beyond their own
element. His suspicions, he discovered in the end, were well founded,
having witnessed the destruction of one of his goats in a very singular
manner. It appeared that a crocodile had in some mysterious way
discovered that goats delight in jumping from place to place, but more
especially from rocks or mounds. Rocks, however, being rather scarce in
the country, their treacherous enemy undertook to gratify their taste
for this innocent pastime, and at the same time cater to his own.
Approaching the water’s edge to within a few feet from the bank, he
swelled out his back in such a manner as gave it the appearance of a
small island or promontory. The stupid goats perceiving this, varied
their gambols by jumping from their secure places on shore upon the
seeming island, which they, however, never reached, for the crocodile,
tossing up his head at the right instant, received them into his open
jaws, and swallowed them without difficulty.
Crocodiles have a special penchant for dogs also, and never miss an
opportunity of gratifying their taste for the canine. In this, however,
they are often balked by the superior cunning of their intended
tit-bits. One day I observed a couple of tiger-hounds quietly enjoying a
cool bath in the river. Struck with their apparent _nonchalance_ when in
such a dangerous proximity, I found on inquiry that these animals never
approach the water, either to drink or to bathe, without previously
attracting the crocodiles by means of repeated howlings to some distant
spot. This instinct of the dog with regard to crocodiles seems to be
rather of antique date, for I find it recorded in the writings of both
ancient and modern travellers in different parts of the world.
No person can venture near the water without danger from their attacks,
being so treacherous that they approach their intended victim near
enough to strike him with their powerful tails before he is even aware
of their proximity. The bubbling sound of a gourd being filled in the
water by some imprudent person, specially attracts them. To obviate this
danger, a calabash bowl with a long wooden handle is usually employed
for the purpose; yet, even this is not unfrequently snatched from the
hands of the water-carrier. If by accident a human being falls a prey to
this tyrant of the river, the reptile is then called _cebado_, which
appellation implies every thing that is bold, ferocious, and treacherous
in an animal of the species, as from that time they not only waylay
persons, but follow them in the canoes, in hopes of again securing this
dainty morsel. There are, however, men bold enough to meet the enemy
face to face in his own element. The man who makes up his mind to this
encounter is well aware that this must be a conflict to the death for
one of the antagonists. The ferryman related to us a feat of gallantry
worthy of a better cause, performed here by a Llanero with one of these
monsters. The man was on his way to San Jaime on a pressing errand.
Being in haste to get there the same day, he would not wait for the
canoe to be brought to him, but prepared to swim across, assisted by his
horse. He had already secured his saddle and clothes upon his head, as
is usual on similar occasions, when the ferryman cried out to him to
beware of a _caiman cebado_, then lurking near the pass, urging upon
him, at the same time, to wait for the canoe. Scorning this advice, the
Llanero replied with characteristic pride, “Let him come; I was never
yet afraid of man or beast.” Then laying aside a part of his ponderous
equipment, he placed his two-edged dagger between his teeth, and plunged
fearlessly into the river. He had not proceeded far, when the monster
rose and made quickly towards him. The ferryman crossed himself
devoutly, and muttered the holy invocation of _Jesus, Maria y José_!
fearing for the life, and, above all, for the toll of the imprudent
traveller. In the mean time, the swimmer continued gliding through the
water towards the approaching crocodile. Aware of the impossibility of
striking his adversary a mortal blow unless he could reach the armpit,
he awaited the moment when the reptile should attack him, to throw his
saddle at him. This he accomplished so successfully, that the crocodile,
doubtless imagining it to be some sort of good eating, jumped partly out
of the water to catch it. Instantly the Llanero plunged his dagger up to
the very hilt into the fatal spot. A hoarse grunt and a tremendous
splash showed that the blow was mortal, for the ferocious monster sunk
beneath the waves to rise no more.
Proud of this achievement, and scorning the tardy assistance of the
ferryman, who offered to pick him up in his canoe, he waved his bloody
dagger in the air, exclaiming, as he did so: “Is there no other about
here?” and then turning, he swam leisurely back to take his horse
across.
The _canoero_ who related this adventure then added: “So delighted was I
on that occasion, that I killed my fattest hen to treat the man to a
good _sancocho_, for the caiman had devoured all my goats.”
But this is only one of the many exploits constantly being enacted in
these regions, by the bold race of men inhabiting them.
[Illustration]
There is still living at San Fernando, a town at the confluence of the
Apure and Portuguesa rivers, another individual equally bold in
attacking crocodiles, in which warfare he uses only a wooden mace or
club. He is possibly one of the greatest swimmers in that or any other
country, having repeatedly accomplished the run between San Fernando and
El Diamante--a plantation which he owns three miles below the
town--without once stopping on the way. Armed with his heavy club in one
hand, and a bottle of rum in the other, to keep himself in good spirits,
this modern Hercules will, for the fun of it, during a spree, provoke a
fight with a _caiman cebado_; and so effectual has been his warfare,
that he has actually succeeded in driving them away from the pass,
formerly so infested by them, that scarcely a year elapsed in which
numbers of persons were not carried off by them, helpless washerwomen
especially.
I observed, also, at La Portuguesa, a great number of fresh-water
porpoises or _toninas_, as they are called there, swimming with rapidity
against the current, and bending their backs gracefully like their
congeners of the sea. Crocodiles appeared to avoid them, and would
invariably dive out of the way at their approach. It is probable that
from this circumstance arose the current belief that _toninas_ will
befriend persons when they chance to fall into the water, against the
attacks of crocodiles. It is, moreover, asserted that these cetacea will
rescue a man from drowning, pushing him on to the shore with their
snouts. In acknowledgment of this animal philanthropy, the hand of man
is there never raised against these inoffensive creatures; and so
conscious are they of this, that they seem rather to delight in his
neighborhood, sporting around the canoes which ascend the river, and
spouting jets of water and compressed air like miniature whales.