IN THE “ORIENTE”
Restricted use of term “Oriente”—Margarita—Asunción—Porlamar
and Pampatar—Macanao—A primitive population—The
priests, the comet, and the people—Cubagua—Pearl
fisheries—Coche—Cumaná—Las Casas—A diving feat—Petroleum
and salt—Fruit—The Manzanares—Cumanacoa—In the hills—San
Antonio and its church—The Guacharo cave—Humboldt—Virgin
territory—Punceres—Oil-springs—The Bermudez asphalt
lake—Carúpano—“_Ron blanco_”—Sulphur and gold—Rio
Caribe—Peninsula of Paria—Cristobal Colón—An ambitious
project—The Delta—the _Golfo Triste_—Pedernales—Asphalt
and outlaws—In the _caños_—Tucupita—Barrancas—Imataca
iron-mines—Canadian capital for Venezuela—Guayana Vieja.
As the term “Oriente” is used to-day in Venezuela, it includes the
cities of Barcelona, Maturín and Ciudad Bolivar, with their surrounding
districts, but since these are more fitly considered in succeeding
chapters, the use of the word is restricted here to the eastern part
of the Caribbean Hills, the Island of Margarita, and the Delta of the
Orinoco.
The “Oriente” thus includes those parts, not only of Venezuela but of
the New Continent, which were first visited by Europeans. The names of
the Boca del Draco (between the peninsula of Paria and Trinidad) and of
Margarita were given by Columbus; Cubagua supported the first settlement
of adventurers, and the shores westward of Cumaná were visited by Alonso
de Ojeda on his first voyage.
Margarita lies some twenty miles north of the mainland, with the islands
of Cubagua and Coche between. It is practically two islands joined by
a sandspit, the two halves being equally rugged and mountainous; the
western is known as Macanao, and contains but few inhabitants, the towns
being all in the eastern half or Margarita proper.
With the surrounding smaller islands it constitutes the State of Nueva
Esparta. The capital, Asunción, founded in 1524, is in a sheltered valley
at the eastern end of the island. A ruined fort above the town, ruins
of substantial houses, grass-grown streets and a general atmosphere of
decay make the town somewhat depressing. To the south-east are the ports
of Pampatar and Porlamar, the former the most important, since to this
come European liners, but Porlamar has the larger population. The bay of
Porlamar is generally full of small fishing-smacks and pearling vessels,
which carry on two of the chief industries of the island, though from
Pampatar, with the pearls, they export also tiles, hats of straw and of a
kind of velvet known as _pelo guamo_, hammocks, and embroidery.
The western half of Margarita is dry and barren for the most part, with
small, scrubby vegetation, but here and there one finds grass-covered
glades and more fertile soil; the inhabitants are chiefly fishermen,
living in great poverty, with poor diet, yet contented and at the same
time amazingly ignorant of the outside world. Who may be president in
Carácas matters little to them, and European countries and cities are
unknown. Probably fibre could be grown here with advantage, but the only
land industry appears to be the farming of goats or cattle. Some of the
outlying homesteads are conducted on patriarchal lines, and the families
of the owners are occasionally enormous. Many of the people seem to be
direct descendants of the ancient Guaiquerias, of strangely Mongolian
appearance.
In Porlamar one may arrange for a passage in one of the little sloops or
schooners to any of the other islands of the State, and it is as well
to be prepared for a drenching if it is necessary to sail against the
wind. Porlamar is a _triste_ little town with about 3,500 inhabitants. We
had the good (or ill) fortune to be there on the night when this planet
passed through the tail of Halley’s comet, which for some time previous
had been a magnificent sight in the early morning. The priest had given
out that the earth was to be destroyed by the comet at 2 a.m. prompt
unless perhaps repentance, signified by devotion to mother-Church, was
sufficiently general to avert disaster. As a result all the evening the
churches, brilliantly lighted by myriads of candles, were crammed with
devotees who professed and doubtless felt penitence for past misdeeds, if
thereby they might prevent the threatened destruction or secure safety
for themselves. Two o’clock came and passed, but, the night being cloudy,
there was no sign of the comet, and the crowd flocked to the club and the
_botiquins_ to make up for lost time. It was in vain for the priests to
tell them that the comet would come back if they persisted in their evil
ways: the churches have remained as empty as they were before the months
of the comet.
After this digression we may glance at Cubagua, the once famous pearl
island, now perhaps on the eve of obtaining a new importance as a source
of petroleum. There are springs of mineral oil along the northern shore,
a tiny fishing village at the south-west corner, one small patch of
cultivation with a single hut near the centre of the island, and a small
cattle-ranch at the eastern end, and that is all—not a visible trace on
all its barren surface of the once great city of New Cadiz. The eastern
end is the most pleasant to-day, supporting more vegetation than the
rest, and it is here, I was told, that diligent search and delving
will reveal relics of the fifteenth-century settlement. Nothing seems
to have been done in the way of archæological exploration, and even the
old coat-of-arms graven in stone was picked up by chance on the shore to
be lost again (apparently) in Carácas. It was displayed at the Bolivar
Centenary Exhibition in 1883, and lay neglected in the patio of the
building in 1891.
The west end of the island has a fine bay, with deep water, sheltered
from the constant east wind, so that it is hard to see for what reason
the city was founded at the other extremity; harder still, perhaps, to
understand why it was founded at all on a barren island where practically
every drop of water had to be brought from Margarita or from the Rio
Manzanares at Cumaná. Its end came after its partial destruction by
earthquake and hurricane in 1543, with the subsequent decrease in the
output of the pearl fisheries, already spoilt by the extravagant and
careless exploitation of the Spaniards, who soon paid more attention
to those of the neighbouring island of Coche. It was infamous during
its existence for the cruelties of its slave market, where the captive
Indians of the mainland were branded with the initial letter of the city,
and even after its final abandonment the memory of that fatal “_C_”
rankled in the minds of the unfortunate Caribs and Chaymas.
Now, however, barring the heat in the valleys and to leeward of the
cliffs of its treeless surface, the island is pleasant enough, and the
clear shallows with their safe bathing-places are a compensation for
the midday heat, while in the rock-pools the squids, water-snakes, and
many-coloured shells of the tropical seas are a continual source of
delight (to the eye); often, too, one may see the giant rays splashing
in the strait between the island and Margarita, like huge pieces of
armour-plate leaping from the water.
Coche still possesses a town in San Pedro de Coche, whose population live
partly by their fisheries, but chiefly by the exploitation of the white
salt of their _salinas_, almost the finest in Venezuela.
Separated from Cubagua and Coche by only a few miles of shallow water
is the peninsula of Araya, behind which lies the Gulf of Cariaco, a
long east and west arm of the sea. At the entrance on the south side
is Cumaná, capital of the State, which, since the chief city was the
birthplace of José de Sucre, of revolutionary fame, is now called after
him, while the actual port of Cumaná is known as Puerto Sucre. The town
was founded in 1520, and has a special interest in that it owed much in
its early years to the labours of Bartolomé de las Casas. It has more
than once suffered severely from earthquakes, and these earth tremors
have, at times, played a considerable part in its history.
The town is connected with the port by about half a mile of dusty road
across the sand-flats, and alongside runs a tramway, the motive power for
which is supplied by mules; projects for utilising steam-engines have
been formed but have never materialised, though an efficient service
ought to pay. To the east the Gulf of Cariaco stretches away for about
fifty miles, with a mean width of six or seven. At the eastern end its
waters are covered with wild fowl of all kinds, and the local peasants
catch them for their plumage by diving under the birds and drowning them,
a feat necessitating a considerable development of fish-like qualities.
At the western end of the peninsula of Araya is the site of the
old castle of Araya, built at the suggestion of Las Casas for the
preservation of peace between the Cubaguans and the Caribs; here,
too, are the extensive salinas, and on the south side there are
oil-springs, indicating deposits whose value and extent have still to
be investigated. The product of the salt-pans is, both in quality and
quantity, second only to that of Coche, and amounts to some 6,000 tons in
the year.
The neighbourhood of Cumaná, along the banks of its river, the
Manzanares, is famous for fruits of all kinds, principally pineapples,
grapes, and mangoes; the less fertile hills look like cotton country,
but none is grown, or very little. The chief exports of Puerto Sucre are
coffee, tobacco, sugar, beans, and hides, brought from the interior.
This produce is carried on mule-back along the mountain roads of
Sucre. The main route from the interior follows the Manzanares for
most of its course, but the last few leagues lie over a steep ridge, a
shorter but more troublesome route than that along the river, were the
latter properly looked after. The upper valley of the Manzanares has
some beautiful pieces of scenery as the gorge is followed through the
limestone hills; until Cumanacoa is reached, however, fifty miles from
Cumaná, there is no cultivation in the valley, and little possibility of
it, and the coastal region generally seems only fit for cotton or fibre
cultivation.
Round Cumanacoa there are fertile hillsides and rich alluvial flats,
chiefly devoted to coffee and sugar or beans. When the town was founded
by Domingo Arias in 1717, he named it San Baltazar de las Arias, but as
in the case of Cumaná, the old Italian name of the district has ousted
the later Spanish one. Above Cumanacoa the valley narrows down into a
gorge running up into the mountain-mass on the borders of Sucre and
Monágas, the watershed forming the boundary between the two States. On
the high, open grass-lands there is pasturage for many more sheep and
cattle than one sees at present, and the change in climate from the hot,
damp valleys is very pleasant, though somewhat sudden.
Some twenty-five miles southward of Cumanacoa is the town of San Antonio,
in Humboldt’s time a flourishing mission with a massive stone church
built entirely by the Indians; the church, with its beautifully bright
frescoes, is still standing, but sadly in want of repair, and one of the
towers is cracked and overgrown at the base. Four or five miles to the
south-east lies the Caripe valley, famous for its tobacco, and for the
Guacharo cavern so well described by Humboldt.
From his account a good idea may be gained of the beauty of the approach
and the impressiveness of this hole in the limestone. He describes how,
as he and Bonpland, with their friends and guides from the Mission
Caripe, travelled up the valley, they were unable to see the mouth of
the cave even at 400 paces distant, their way lying under an overhanging
cliff, with the stream almost in a crevasse below them; then, turning
a corner, they were suddenly in full view of the opening, 80 feet wide
and 72 feet high, with stalactites and stalagmites within and huge trees
above, while the aspect was different from anything of the kind in Europe
on account of the luxuriant tropical vegetation all about. As they walked
through the cave it was often necessary to step into the stream, which
was only 2 feet deep, while overhead the Guacharos,[6] from which the
cave has its name, were uttering their raucous cries. In the broader part
of the cave the Indians were accustomed to venture at one season of the
year to catch the young birds for their fat, which they used in cooking
in the mission, but beyond they would hardly go, believing the spirits
of their departed ancestors to be there. At the limit of Humboldt’s
exploration in this narrower part he found an underground waterfall,
which marks the visible source of the Rio Caripe.
Thirty miles from San Antonio, at Aragua de Maturín, the edge of the
hills is reached and the Llanos begin, but to the north-east there lies
a stretch of little-known territory, chiefly forest-clad hills, capable
of supporting millions of cacao-trees when a growing population shall
settle there. Near Punceres there are oil-springs, and at other points in
the region indications of petroleum are known, which may one day lead to
the development of this rich and well-situated stretch of country, for at
the east end is the old Puerto San Juan of colonial days, with a depth
of water in the _caño_ of the same name sufficient for steam or sailing
craft of considerable size. At present most of the produce of all the
northern part of Monágas, as well as of Sucre, passes out over the hills
to the Caribbean.
An exception to the above must be made in the case of the asphalt from
the Bermudez Lake, which is shipped across to Trinidad. This has been
worked for many years by an American company, and is almost as well
known as the famous Pitch Lake of Trinidad. It was once thought that
the quantity of asphalt visible was much greater here, but fuller
investigation showed that though a larger area was covered the thickness
of the deposit was very much less than in Trinidad. Over 32,000 tons were
exported in the fiscal year 1909-10.
The principal port of the Oriente is Carúpano, on the north coast, midway
between the two peninsulas of Paria and Araya. The town, seen from a
steamer, seems to be as much huddled up at the foot of the mountains as
La Guaira, but in a similar way it extends up the valleys of two streams
which here reach the sea. Its position thus makes it hot, though it is
sufficiently open to the sea breezes to be healthy. A white zigzag line
up the slope behind the town represents the road, down which comes the
cocoa of the hills and valleys of Sucre, for which Carúpano is famous,
as well as cotton, sugar, timber, and alcohol. This last is a spirit of
exceptional purity, and the “white rum” of Carúpano is famed throughout
the country. The hills about the town also support aloes, of the fibre
of which ropes are manufactured in the town, and near by there are
potteries. It is an important place, then, with its population of some
11,000, in spite of the fact that the steamers which visit it have to lie
in an open roadstead sheltered only by a promontory to the east from the
prevalent winds. Sulphur is found near by, and, it is said, auriferous
quartz of high quality, but the minerals have never been systematically
worked.
[Illustration: PUERTO CRISTOBAL COLÓN.]
A few miles east of Carúpano is the small port of Rio Caribe, where the
roadstead is not sufficiently sheltered to allow steamers to lie; small
sailing craft carry away the local produce, which consists principally of
cacao. Beyond Rio Caribe is the peninsula of Paria, a beautifully wooded
mountain mass rising sheer from the water’s edge and separated only by a
narrow strait, with numerous islands, from Trinidad. The northern side of
the peninsula is practically uninhabited, but the coast facing the Gulf
of Paria has several settlements, chiefly occupied in cultivating cacao
or cutting timber; their produce is shipped across to Trinidad.
Cristobal Colón is the most easterly port of Venezuela, and its position
at the eastern end of the peninsula of Paria, opposite to the Delta
of the Orinoco, led Castro to suppose that a small expenditure of
public money would lead to a diversion of all the freight now passing
via Port-of-Spain to Ciudad Bolivar, from Trinidad to Venezuela—an
ill-founded hope, however, as events proved, for the roadstead is very
poor, open to a continual heavy swell coming in through the Bocas, which
could only be overcome by extensive harbour-works, the cost of which is
entirely unwarranted by the circumstances of the case. The wharves and
warehouses erected represent, therefore, a sacrifice of public zeal to a
private whim as reprehensible as the construction of the Carora and San
Timoteo road.
The trade with Southern Venezuela is normally carried on through
Port-of-Spain, goods being there transferred to the Orinoco steamer
_Delta_, which crosses the Gulf of Paria to the Caño Macareo, up which
lies the normal route to Ciudad Bolivar. Columbus named the Gulf of
Paria “Golfo Triste,” and when one has left the beautiful hills and
islands on the north side behind it certainly wears a very gloomy aspect,
particularly on a cloudy day.
Near the mouths of the Orinoco the water becomes muddy and musky, full
of floating masses of water-hyacinth or dead timber, while away on the
horizon one can see a dark band of mangroves marking the beginning of the
swampy Delta territory.
Pedernales is the only settlement on the coast of the Delta proper—a
gloomy, unhealthy-looking spot, though the islands on which the houses
are built are more solid than the surrounding swamps. For the new town
one lands at a stone causeway leading across the black mud to a single
row of houses, one of which has a flagstaff indicating it as the seat of
authority. Crabs crawl on the slime and mud all around, and the black
patches of natural asphalt along the main street and foreshore offer
no contrast to the dirty pools which necessitate a wary eye and foot
in walking. The ruins of the German asphalt and oil refinery a mile or
so away add to the desolate effect, and the greeting from outlaws from
Trinidad, broken-down whites, and villainous-looking negroes make one
even more ready to leave this fever-stricken spot, where the floors of
the houses are flooded by frequent downpours in the rainy season. The
inhabitants exist chiefly by cutting and exporting mangrove-stems for
dyeing and tanning purposes; the asphalt industry seems to be quiescent.
Up the caño the scene is one of great beauty, in the varying foliage of
the high green banks, whose inundated forest is hidden by the mass of
creepers, bamboos, &c., which come down to the water’s edge; beyond only
the tops of the high trees can be seen, though sometimes behind a bank of
reeds or water-hyacinths, looking in the distance like well-kept turf,
the forest itself can be seen. The masses of floating hyacinth, as they
float down the stream, the muddy water, and the alligators on the banks
here and there, with the macaws, flamingoes, and parrots above and around
us, complete the picture. Here and there through the creepers there is
a narrow archway cut by the Guaraunos, who live behind in huts raised
above the swampy ground, and eat, drink, and clothe themselves with the
products of the Moriche palm, besides making their roofs of its fronds.
Higher up there is unflooded forest and open country, where the savannahs
bear rich grass for thousands of herds of cattle, and on the banks
scattered groups of a few houses mark partly civilised settlements. A
fine cacao ranch is passed on the right bank not far below Tucupita,
the capital of the Delta-Amacuro Territory, a dismal, unhealthy-looking
place, though with some signs of commercial life in the number of goletas
in front, not to mention steam craft.
Soon after Tucupita the mountains of Guayana come in sight far to the
south, and an hour or so brings us to Barrancas, the lowest port on the
Orinoco proper, whose grass-grown streets and broad laguna behind the
settlement do not suggest health. Here the character of the navigation
changes, and one begins that journey, so finely described by Humboldt, up
the thousands of miles of waterways, which will conduct the traveller,
if he wishes it, through to the Amazon, and even by devious routes to the
Plate.
The Delta territory southward of the main stream consists, in part at
least, of hilly country, and here on the flanks of the Sierra Imataca
there are rich deposits of iron ore, soon to be worked by a Canadian
company by whom the rights have recently been acquired. To aid in the
work the company has the right to establish a port (Nueva Angostura) with
a custom-house on the Caño Corosimo, in order to avoid the long journey
up to Ciudad Bolivar and back.
A few miles above Barrancas, on the south bank of the river, is the
castle of San Thomé, now known as Guayana Vieja or Los Castillos, where
Raleigh had several encounters with the Spaniards on his last fatal
expedition. There are only a few houses round the citadel to-day, and the
place possesses no importance.