CHAPTER XXIV.

SCENES AT THE PASS OF APURITO.

When we were apprised that every thing was ready at the pass, we moved

on from San Pablo with the horses, the cattle following behind by easy

marches, to allow them sufficient time to graze on the rich herbage by

the way.

On our arrival at Apurito, we found the river quite swollen with the

recent showers and already extending from bank to bank. The first

business was to select among our men and horses the strongest and most

capable of enduring the fatigue and of guiding through the boisterous

waves of the Apure the various lots into which the cattle were divided

for the purpose. Our next step was to assemble at the pass a sufficient

number of canoes with expert paddlers to act in concert with the leading

men and horses, by flanking the swimmers in the river. Two long

palisades, running parallel down to the bank of the river and narrowing

toward the water, had already been constructed; through these the

animals, in lots of two hundred at a time, were driven at full speed,

with deafening shouts and earnest goading, while two men, stripped naked

and mounted on two spirited horses without saddles, headed the movement,

plunging headlong into the river pell-mell with the cattle, which were

thus encouraged to swim across. A herd of tame animals was stationed on

the opposite shore to incorporate the swimmers as they came out of the

water. Having done this, the leaders swam back to procure another lot of

animals, a feat they performed for about twenty successive times in the

course of the day. Nevertheless, the task was not so easily accomplished

as was practised with the horses; for it often happened that the bulls

became quite refractory and pugnacious, in which case the men in the

canoes were obliged to hold them by the horns, dragging them along by

main force as they paddled on; at other times the beasts got alongside

of the leading men and horses, and then the danger to both was imminent,

the bulls attacking them in the water; thus many valuable horses were

killed by these infuriated animals, while the men had several narrow

escapes. What with savage bulls, electric eels, crocodiles and

caribes--not to mention other pernicious creatures of the waters and the

broad expanse of the river before them--the task of these bold

adventurers is truly appalling; yet they go to work and accomplish their

task with a willing heart and a perfect _nonchalance_ of every thing

around them. The same might be said also in regard to the noble steeds

which share with them the dangers of the river, acting at the same time

the part of floating bridges to the men, and as decoys to the cattle

during the passage. Their powers of endurance, in this instance, are

the more surprising, inasmuch as they are not allowed even a few

moments’ rest after they land, being kept in constant motion the whole

day.

A number of horsemen with lazos were also stationed along the shore to

secure those bulls which, eluding the vigilance of the men in the

canoes, succeeded in regaining the land; many were drowned, however, in

the attempt, and their carcasses abandoned to the turkey-buzzards, from

an inherent disgust among the people of the Llanos for the flesh of

animals which have not been killed in the usual way. On one or two

occasions, the whole troop rebelled against their drivers and succeeded

in making their escape to their pasture fields, in spite of the horsemen

on shore; others, after reaching the sloping banks across the river

below the pass, were arrested in their flight by the overhanging cliffs,

and finally hurled to a watery grave by the rapid rise of the river.

Thus the cost of these expeditions, although exceedingly interesting to

those participating in the excitement, is sometimes greater than the

profits arising therefrom, and none but Llaneros, who are accustomed to

live on beef and water, ought to indulge in this truly savage business.

Our loss in horses alone, without reckoning the expenses of the

expedition and the danger to flesh and bone, amounted on this occasion

to about thirty animals, which in round figures, setting the value of

every horse at the minimum price of one hundred dollars, would make the

sum of three thousand dollars; while the value of the cattle itself,

many of which were also lost to us, could hardly be set down at five

dollars a head at that epoch. One of the horses was so valuable, that

our Leader requested the Doctor to attend the wounded animal and

endeavor to save his life if possible. On examination, it was found that

his bowels were partly forced out through the wound; but as he would not

allow any body to touch him, it was resolved to tie his feet; then

passing a pole through the legs of the animal, he was lifted from the

ground in a reverse position, to allow the Doctor to operate more

conveniently. It was already very dark, and the group of Llaneros

lifting the patient, with others holding up lighted torches made of rags

and tallow, and the humorous Esculapius leaning over the struggling

beast, presented a scene ludicrous in the extreme. In spite of the skill

with which he performed the operation, and the humane care of the owner,

the horse expired the same night.

[Illustration]

Three whole days were spent in the laborious occupation of forcing the

cattle across the river. Nor were the nights less diligently employed at

the village in the more entertaining recreation of dancing, flirting and

gambling, according to the tastes and inclinations of our motley

assembly. It must be confessed, however, that the latter had more

incentives for the people of that pastoral region than the shepherd’s

reed and crook. Occasionally a fight would occur during these nocturnal

revelries; but this, beyond some hard words and brandishing of swords

and daggers by moonlight, which rather added to the picturesqueness of

the scene, never ended in any thing very serious.

“Caló el chapeo, requirió la espada,

Miró al soslayo, fuése y no hubo nada.”

The river was now rising so rapidly, that in order to reach our camp in

the neighborhood of the village, we were obliged to place canoes across

the main street leading to it, for fear of coming in contact with any of

the numerous tenants of that stream. About this time the fish, conscious

of the approaching inundation of the savannas, commence to ascend the

river in search of those places best suited for spawning; and so great

is the number of those that seek a nuptial rendezvous, that the noise

they make in the water can be heard at some distance from the river.

During their migration the water becomes so tainted with their flavor,

that it is unfit to drink or wash in. Desirous of obtaining some live

specimens for sketching, I procured a _tarraya_, or throw net, which I

requested one of our men to launch near the bank; he did so; but when

he tried to lift it, he found it impossible unassisted, which made us

fear that the net had got entangled among snags at the bottom of the

river. A companion was called to our assistance, and between us three,

we soon brought it up, when, to my astonishment and delight, I found the

net full of _coporos_, _palometas_; and other delicacies; the caribes,

however, soon rendered it perfectly useless, which circumstance I

considered a misfortune, as I could not keep the fish long without

spoiling. Next day I was advised by one of the villagers to place three

or four canoes, partly filled with water, across the stream; the fish,

finding their progress arrested by the obstruction, endeavored to jump

over; in doing which they fell in the canoes by hundreds. The

contrivance succeeded so well, that every morning I could depend on a

plentiful supply, both for my sketch-book and the frying-pan. My

attention was particularly attracted this time by a large fish called

the _valenton_, from its great strength which, as I was informed,

enables him to drag a canoe after him when caught with the hook and

line. A distressing occurrence took place there which nearly cost the

life of a young man while engaged in fishing for the _valenton_. The

angler and a friend were engaged in conversation, with their lines

thrown carelessly over the sides of the canoe, when the fish seized the

bait and ran off, as he is in the habit of doing. The jerk was so

violent, that the young man was unable to hold the line, and allowed it

to slip through his hands; he was not aware that at the end of the line

there was another hook, which buried itself in the thumb of his right

hand; the next moment he was violently pitched in the water and dragged

for some distance, when fortunately the line broke, and he was picked up

almost insensible by his companion. During its gambols in the river, the

_valenton_ jumps sometimes three feet clear out of the water, raising a

large volume of spray and striking the surface with its powerful tail in

its fall; so great is the splash, that the noise can be heard a great

distance off, especially in the stillness of the night, when the fish

seems to be more busily engaged in hunting.

The _payara_ also delights at this time in those jumps so much dreaded

by fishermen,[46] and even by people wearing any red garment about their

persons; for this fish, like the caribe, is said to be attracted by that

color, just as wild bulls are; so much so that it often happens that one

of them springs on people thus attired in the canoes, though it always

pays dearly for its temerity, as, in consequence of the peculiar

structure of its jaws, the fish cannot disentangle itself from the

garment, to which it remains attached until released by the hand of its

intended victim, who is very glad of the chance thus unexpectedly thrown

in his way, for the payara is a most delicious fish, often weighing

twenty and thirty pounds, and withal very beautiful. Of this savage

propensity people avail themselves to capture this fish without hook or

line, on the large rivers, such as the Apure and Orinoco, where they

seem to be most daring; a piece of red flannel, or some other strong

material, tied to the end of a long rod, being sufficient for the sport:

the tempting bait is held over the side of the canoe a few inches above

the surface of the water, and no sooner does the fish perceive the

alluring decoy, than with one spring it seizes it and remains as firmly

attached to it, as if held by an iron bolt; for in addition to its

formidable row of teeth, which are long and sharp as needles, the payara

has on the lower jaw two very much elongated fangs that penetrate the

head through corresponding passages in it which allow the points to

protrude close to the eyes of the fish, and unless it tears off the

piece, as it often does to the naked and arnatto-stained Indian while

paddling his canoe, the payara perishes by its own arms.

Among the many eventful incidents of _la Independencia_ still fresh in

the memory of our Leader, he relates an anecdote in connection with the

_Libertador_, Simon Bolívar, in which both these champions of freedom

participated while engaged on an important reconnoissance during the

rainy season. The savannas being, as usual, overflowed for the most

part, and there being no other means of transportation than the frail

canoes of the country, the two chieftains were compelled to travel in

one of these over their inundated domain, with the assistance of two

Indian paddlers. Fish were so numerous, that numbers of them, disturbed

by the strokes of the paddles against the sides of the canoe, jumped in

all directions, while not a few fell amidst the distinguished

passengers. The Libertador who, like almost all great men, had also his

weak points, possessed a very nervous temperament, especially about

little things; therefore he felt quite uneasy at the unceremonious

intrusion from the finny inhabitants of his swampy realms, whose

movements he mistook for a mischievous propensity on their part to

attack the wayfarer. On the other hand, our Leader, who was always ready

to practise a good joke, seized the opportunity to occasionally tip the

canoe so as to make it ship water, and more fish along with it.

Whereupon his companion, who was not aware of the trick practised upon

him, imagining that the fish were becoming bolder as they advanced,

exclaimed in utter despair, “D----n it! _Compañero_, let us pull back,

for even the fish are savage in this country.”

When the waters subside, thousands, nay, millions remain struggling in

the ponds and little pools, left on the savannas, where they soon perish

and rot away, tainting the air with their effluvium. Some of them, like

the _curito_, a species of Silurus, covered with transverse plates

surrounding the body, have the power of living buried in the indurated

mud, from whence they are called to life again by the returning showers.

As they form a most delicious mess, they are eagerly sought by men and

women, who resort to these places armed with wicker baskets, and collect

great numbers of the fish before they are carried away by the increasing

inundation of the savannas.

A very singular belief, shared likewise, according to Sir Emerson

Tennent, by the people of Ceylon, exists in the Apure respecting fish

falling from the clouds. Alluding to this phenomenon, that ingenious

writer observes: “Both at Galle and Colombo in the southwest monsoon,

fish are popularly believed to have fallen from the clouds during

violent showers; but those found on the occasions that give rise to this

belief, consist of smallest fry, such as could be caught up by

water-spouts and vortices analogous to them, or otherwise blown on shore

from the surf; whereas those which suddenly appear in the replenished

tanks and in the hollows which they overflow, are mature and well-grown

fish. Besides, the latter are found under the circumstances I have

described, in all parts of the interior, whilst the prodigy of a

supposed fall of fish from the sky has been noticed, I apprehend, only

in the vicinity of the sea or of some inland water.”

Although the author further explains the phenomenon on the supposition

that some fish are endowed with the power of locomotion over land, while

others in a torpid state remain buried in the mud until the return of

the rainy season; yet, I have been assured by reliable persons that live

fish have been picked up in places where no such possible contingencies

could occur; for instance, upon the roofs of houses or amidst wide

plains far from running water. Most of those thus found are small, from

three to seven inches long; but none of them capable of living more than

twenty minutes out of water; and the father of the writer once even

witnessed a fall of _bocachicos_, a fish which seldom lives over five

minutes out of its own element.

In support of these views, which were embodied in my _Wild Scenes in

South America_, I now have the pleasure of adding the testimony of no

less an authority than Gosse, who has collected a number of authentic

examples of this phenomenon in his _Romance of Natural History_.

According to his statements, fish-showers have occurred in all parts of

the world, not even excepting his own country--England,--where, early in

1859, the newspapers of South Wales recorded a shower of fish in the

Valley of Aberdare. The repeated statements attracted more notice than

usual, and the Rev. John Griffith, the vicar of the parish, communicated

the results of his inquiries to the _Evening Mail_.

“If now we look to other lands,” continues the author, “we shall find

that the descent of fishes from the atmosphere, under conditions little

understood, is a phenomenon which rests on indubitable evidence.

Humboldt has published interesting details of the ejection of fish in

large quantities from volcanoes in South America. On the night between

the 19th and 20th of June, 1698, the summit of Carguairazo, a volcano

more than 19,000 feet in height, fell in, and the surrounding country

for nearly thirty-two square miles was covered with mud and fishes. A

similar eruption of fish from the volcano of Imbabura was supposed to

have been the cause of a putrid fever which raged in the town of Ibarra

seven years before that period.”

This is accounted for on the supposition that subterraneous lakes,

communicating with surface-waters, form in cavities in the declivities,

or at the base of a volcano. In the course of time these internal

cavities are burst open by the force of the volcanic explosions, and

their contents discharged through the water.

But the most extraordinary account recorded by Gosse is that of Dr.

Buist, of Bombay, who, after enumerating the cases above cited, and

others of similar character, goes on to say:--“In 1824 fishes fell at

Meerut on the men of her Majesty’s 14th Regiment, then out at drill, and

were caught in numbers. In July, 1826, live fish were seen to fall on

the grass at Moradabad during a storm. They were the common _Cyprinus_,

so prevalent in our Indian waters. On the 19th of February, 1830, at

noon, a heavy fall of fish occurred at the Nokulhatty factory, in the

Daccah Zillah; depositions on the subject were obtained from nine

different parties. The fish were all dead; most of them were large; some

were fresh; others were rotten and mutilated. They were seen at first in

the sky, like a flock of birds, descending rapidly to the ground; there

was rain drizzling, but no storm. On the 16th and 17th of May, 1833, a

fall of fish occurred in the Zillah of Foottehpoor, about three miles

north of Jumna, after a violent storm of wind and rain. The fish were

from a pound and a half to three pounds in weight, and the same species

as those found in the tanks in the neighborhood. They were all dead and

dry. A fall of fish occurred at Allahabad during a storm in May, 1835;

they were of the chowla species, and were found dead and dry after the

storm had passed over the district. On the 20th of September, 1839,

after a smart shower of rain, a quantity of fish, about three inches in

length, and all of the same kind, fell at the Sunderbunds, about twenty

miles south of Calcutta. On this occasion it was remarked that the fish

did not fall here and there irregularly over the ground, but in a

continuous straight line, not more than a span in breadth. The vast

multitudes of fish with which the low grounds around Bombay are covered,

about a week or ten days after the first burst of the monsoon, appear to

be derived from the adjoining pools or rivulets, and not to descend from

the sky. They are not, as far as I know, found in the higher parts of

the island. I have never seen them, though I have watched carefully, in

casks collecting water from the roofs of buildings, or heard of them on

the decks or awnings of vessels in the harbor, where they must have

appeared had they descended from the sky. One of the most remarkable

phenomena of this kind occurred during a tremendous deluge of rain at

Kattywar, on the 25th of July, 1850, where the ground around Rajkote was

found literally covered with fish; some of them were found on the top of

haystacks, where probably they had been drifted by the storm. In the

course of twenty-four successive hours twenty-seven inches of rain fell;

thirty-five fell in twenty-six hours, seven inches in one hour and a

half, being the heaviest fall on record. At Poonah, on the 3d of August,

1852, after a very heavy fall of rain, multitudes of fish were caught on

the ground in the cantonments, full half a mile from the nearest stream.

If showers of fish are to be explained on the assumption that they are

carried up by squalls or violent winds from rivers or spaces of water

not far away from where they fall, it would be nothing wonderful were

they seen to descend from the air during the furious squalls which

occasionally occur in July.”

Sir E. Tennent, before cited, also witnessed in Ceylon another of those

fish-showers:--“I had an opportunity, on one occasion only, of

witnessing the phenomenon which gives rise to this popular belief. I was

driving in the cinnamon gardens near the fort of Colombo, and saw a

violent but partial shower descend at no great distance before me. On

coming to the spot, I found a multitude of small silvery fish, from one

and a half to two inches in length, leaping on the gravel of the high

road, numbers of which I collected and brought away in my palanquin. The

spot was about half a mile from the sea, and entirely unconnected with

any water-course or pool.”[47]

The same curious fact respecting the habits of certain kinds of fish in

the _Llanos_, which bury themselves in the mud at the close of the rainy

season, also appears to take place in India and Ceylon; for, according

to Gosse, “the pools, reservoirs, and tanks are well provided with fish

of various species, though the water twice every year becomes perfectly

evaporated, and the mud of the bottom is entirely converted into dust,

or takes the condition of baked clay, gaping with wide and deep clefts,

in which not the slightest sign of moisture can be detected. This is the

case with temporary hollows in the soil, which have no connection with

running streams or permanent waters, from which they might be supposed

to receive a fresh stock of fish.”

After proving conclusively that these fishes could not proceed from

either the clouds, as the generality of people believe, nor from

impregnated ova, as Mr. Farrell suggests, the author observes:--“Neither

of these hypotheses, then, will account for the fact; and we must admit

that the fishes of these regions, have the instinct to burrow down in

the solid mud of the bottom, at the approach of the dry season, and the

power of retaining life, doubtless in a torpid condition, until the

return of the periodic rains, as Theophrastus long ago observed.”

But, who ever heard of showers of toads and frogs? Yet, such is the

fact, astonished reader; and were you to visit with me some of the

lagoons and ponds of South America at night, you would not fail to

notice that the air, as well as the earth and waters, seems filled with

the piercing, deafening noise proceeding from them. “According to

travellers in tropical America, the inhabitants of Porto Bello assert

that every drop of rain is changed into a toad; the most instructed,

however, believe that the spawn of these animals is raised with the

vapor from the adjoining swamps, and, being driven in the clouds over

the city, the ova are hatched as they descend in rain. ’Tis certain that

the streets after a night of heavy rain are almost covered with the

ill-favored reptiles; and it is impossible to walk without crushing

them. But heretic philosophers point to the mature growth of the vermin,

many of them being six inches in length, and maintain that the

hypothesis just mentioned will scarcely account for the appearance of

these.”[48]

But it is not South America alone that can boast of such an

extraordinary phenomenon; for the same accomplished author records

similar showers as occurring in England and various parts of the

Continent: “In two or three of these cases, the toads were not only

observed in countless numbers on the ground during and after heavy

storms of rain, but were seen to strike upon the roofs of houses,

bounding thence into the streets; they even fell upon the hats, and, in

one instance, were actually received into the outstretched hand.”

It would seem that not even quadrupeds are exempt there, from the same

rule, for we often hear the phrase in English, “If it should rain cats

and dogs,” which I, for want of a better acquaintance with English

phraseology, am at a loss how to interpret. We all know that

stone-showers are not uncommon, especially ever since “the thunderer,”

Jupiter, _alias_ Jove, lost his power among us through the advancing

strides of civilization. Previous to this, we are told of his paying

occasional visits to his lady-loves on earth in the shape of golden

showers, which have been exchanged subsequently for a less costly

material; but showers of “cats and dogs” I do not believe ever occurred,

even to an old sinner like him.

Travels and adventures in South and Central America. First series Life in the Llanos of Venezuela · 第 24 / 29 章