Cattle-raising.
Don Filiberto Trano's new house.
Horse-flies and wasps.
Teustepe.
Spider imitating ants.
Mimetic species.
Animals with special means of defence are conspicuously marked,
or in other ways attract attention.
Accident to horse.
The "Mygale."
Illness.
Conclusion of journey.
AFTER crossing the trachytic plain, we reached a large cattle
hacienda, and beyond, the river Chocoyo, on the banks of which was
some good, though stony, pasture land. We saw here some fine
cattle, and learnt that a little more care was taken in breeding
them than is usual in Nicaragua. The country, with its rolling
savannahs, covered with grass, is admirably suited for
cattle-raising, and great numbers are exported to the neighbouring
country of Costa Rica. Scarcely any attention is, however, paid to
the improvement of the breeds. Few stations have reserve potreros
of grass. In consequence, whenever an unusually dry season occurs,
the cattle die by hundreds, and their bones may be seen lying all
over the plains. Both Para and Guinea grass grow, when planted and
protected, with the greatest luxuriance; and the latter especially
forms an excellent reserve, as it grows in dense tufts that cannot
be destroyed by the cattle. When not protected by fencing, however,
the cattle and mules prefer these grasses so much to the native
ones, that they are always close-cropped, and when the natural
pasturage fails there is no reserve of the other to fall back on. I
planted both the Para and Guinea grasses largely at the mines and
at Pital, and we were able to keep our mules always in good
condition with them.
About four o'clock in the afternoon our animals were getting tired,
and we ourselves were rather fatigued, having been in the saddle
since daylight, with the exception of a few minutes' rest at
Tierrabona. We halted at a thatched cottage on some high stony
savannah land, and were hospitably received by the peasant
proprietor, Don Filiberto Trano. He informed us that we had entered
the township of Teustepe, and that the town itself was eight
leagues distant. The family consisted of Don Filiberto, his wife,
and four or five children. They had just prepared for their own
dinner a young fowl, stewed with green beans and other vegetables,
and this they placed before us, saying that they would soon cook
something else for themselves. We were too hungry to make any
scruples, and after the poor, coarse fare we had been used to, the
savoury repast seemed the most delicious I ever tasted. I think we
only got two meals on the whole journey that we really enjoyed.
This was one, the other the supper that the padre's housekeeper at
Palacaguina cooked for us, and I have recorded at length the names
of the parties to whom we were indebted for them.
Don Filiberto had about twenty cows, all of which that could be
found were driven in at dusk, and the calves tied up. As they came
in, the fowls were on the look-out for the garrapatos, or ticks;
and the cows, accustomed to the process, stood quietly, while they
flew up and picked them off their necks and flanks. The calves are
always turned out with the cows in the morning, after the latter
are milked, so that if not found again for some days, as is often
the case in this bushy and unenclosed country, the cows are milked
by them and do not go dry. They give very little milk, probably due
to the entire want of care in breeding them. It is at once made
into cheese, which forms a staple article of food amongst the
poorer natives.
The small house was divided into three compartments, one being used
as a kitchen. It was in rather a dilapidated condition, and Don
Filiberto told me that he was busy building a new residence. I was
curious to see what progress he was making with it, and he took me
outside and showed me four old posts used for tying the cows to,
which had evidently been in the ground for many years. "There," he
said, "are the corner-posts, and I shall roof it with tiles." He
was quite grave, but I could not help smiling at his faith. I have
no doubt that, as long as he lives, he will lounge about all day,
and in the evening, when his wife and children are milking the
cows, will come out, smoke his cigarette, leaning against the
door-post of his patched and propped-up dwelling, and contemplate
the four old posts with a proud feeling of satisfaction that he is
building a new house. Such a picture is typical of Nicaragua.
Don Filiberto told us that there was a limestone quarry not far
from his house; and as I wished to learn whether it occurred in
beds or veins, I proposed next morning to walk over to it, but he
said we should need the mules to cross the river. Thinking, from
his description, that it was only about a mile distant, I started
on mule-back with him; but after riding fully a league, discovered
that he actually did not know himself where it was, but was seeking
for another man to show him. We at last arrived at the house of
this man. He was absent. A boy showed us a small piece of the
limestone. It was concretionary, and I learnt from him that it
occurred in veins. I was vexed about the time we had lost, and the
extra work we had given the poor mules; my only consolation was
that as we rode back I picked a fine new longicorn beetle off the
leaves of an overhanging tree.
When we came to settle up with our host he proposed to charge us
twenty-five cents, just one shilling, or fourpence each. They had
given us a good dinner and put themselves to much inconvenience to
provide me with a bedstead, and this was their modest charge. Nor
did they make it with any expectation that we would give more. It
is the universal custom amongst the Mestizo peasantry to entertain
travellers; to give them the best they have and to charge for the
bare value of the provisions, and nothing for the lodging. We could
so depend upon the hospitality of the lower classes that every day
we travelled on without any settled place to pass the night,
convinced that we should be received with welcome at any hut that
we might arrive at when our mules got tired or night came on. The
only place in the whole journey where we had been received with
hesitation was at the Indian house a day's journey beyond Olama.
There the people were pure Indians, and other circumstances made me
conclude that the Indians were not so hospitable as the Mestizos.
We finally started about nine o'clock and rode over dry savannahs,
where, although there was little grass, I was told that cattle did
well browsing on the small brushwood with which the hills were
covered. All the forenoon we travelled over stony ranges and dry
plains and savannahs. At noon we reached the dry bed of a river and
crossed it several times, but could find no water to quench our
thirst, whilst the sun shone down on us with pitiless heat. About
one o'clock we came to some pools where the bed of the river was
bare rock with rounded hollows containing water, warm but clean, as
the cattle could not walk over the smooth slopes to get at it. Here
we halted for an hour and had some tiste and maize cakes, and cut
some Guinea grass that grew amongst the rocks for our mules. Over
the heated rocks scampered brown lizards, chasing each other and
revelling in the sunshine. Butterflies on lazy wings came and
settled on damp spots, and the cicada kept up his shrill continuous
monotone, but not so loudly as he would later on when it got
cooler. The cicada is supposed by some to pipe only during midday,
but both in Central America and Brazil I found them loudest towards
sunset, keeping up their shrill music until it was taken up by
night-vocal crickets and locusts.
We were returning parallel to our course in going to Segovia, but
several leagues to the westward, and this made a wonderful
difference in the climate. There we were wading through muddy
swamps and drenched with continual rains. Here the plains were
parched with heat, vegetation was dried up, and there was scarcely
any water in the river beds. The north-east trade-wind, before it
reaches thus far, gives up its moisture to the forests of the
Atlantic slope, and now passed over without even a cloud to relieve
the deep blue of the sky or temper the rays of the sun.
The vegetation on the plains was almost entirely composed of thorny
plants and shrubs; acacias, cacti, and bromeliae were the most
abundant. Animal life was scarce; there were a few flycatchers
amongst the birds, and armadillos were the only mammals.
Horse-flies (Tabanus) were too numerous, and drops of blood
trickled down our mules' faces where they had feasted. In some
parts large, banded black and yellow wasps (Monedula surinamensis,
Fabr.) came flying round us and had a threatening look as they
hovered before our faces, but they were old acquaintances of mine
in Brazil, and I knew that they were only searching about for the
horse-flies with which they store their nests, just as other wasps
do with spiders, first benumbing them with their sting. I noted
here another instance of the instinctive dread that insects have of
their natural enemies. The horse-flies were so bloodthirsty that we
could kill them with the greatest ease with our hands on the mules'
necks, or if we drove them away they would return immediately. As
soon, however, as a wasp came hawking round, the flies lost their
sluggish apathy and disappeared amongst the bushes, and I do not
think that excepting when gorged with blood they would easily fall
a prey to their pursuers.
We were joined on the road by a storekeeper on his way to Teustepe.
He was armed with pistols, which it is the fashion to carry in
Nicaragua, though many travellers have nothing more formidable in
their holsters than a spirit flask and some biscuits. He talked as
usual of threatened revolutionary risings, but these form the
staple conversation throughout Central America amongst the middle
classes, and until they really do break out it is best not to
believe in them. He told us also that the drought had been very
great around Teustepe, and that the crops were destroyed by it.
About three we reached the town, and after buying some provisions
to take with us, pushed on again. Below Teustepe we crossed the
river Malacatoyo which empties into the Lake of Nicaragua, and
beyond it the road passed over a wild alluvial flat with high
trees, amongst which we saw a troop of white-faced monkeys.
On the leaves of the bushes there were many curious species of
Buprestidae, and I struck these and other beetles off with my net
as I rode along.* [* Naturally the example of their chief inspired
all the mining officials with an ardour for collecting insects;
but, when riding with any of them through the forest or over the
plains, Belt's trained eyes always saw so many more than the others
that a saying arose that his mule assisted him by stopping before
any specimen he had failed to notice!] After one such capture I
observed what appeared to be one of the black stinging ants on the
net. It was a small spider that closely resembled an ant, and so
perfect was the imitation that it was not until I killed it that I
determined that it was a spider and that I had needlessly feared
its sting. What added greatly to the resemblance was that, unlike
other spiders, it held up its two fore-legs like antennae, and
moved them about just like an ant. Other species of spiders closely
resemble stinging ants; in all of them the body is drawn out long
like an ant, and in some the maxillary palpi are lengthened and
thickened so as to resemble the head of one.
Ant-like spiders have been noticed throughout tropical America and
also in Africa.* (* See "Nature" volume 3 page 508.) The use that
the deceptive resemblance is to them has been explained to be the
facility it affords them for approaching ants on which they prey. I
am convinced that this explanation is incorrect so far as the
Central American species are concerned. Ants, and especially the
stinging species, are, so far as my experience goes, not preyed
upon by any other insects. No disguise need be adopted to approach
them, as they are so bold that they are more likely to attack a
spider than a spider them. Neither have they wings to escape by
flying, and generally go in large bodies easily found and
approached. The real use is, I doubt not, the protection the
disguise affords against small insectivorous birds. I have found
the crops of some humming-birds full of small soft-bodied spiders,
and many other birds feed on them. Stinging ants, like bees and
wasps, are closely resembled by a host of other insects; indeed,
whenever I found any insect provided with special means of defence
I looked for imitative forms, and was never disappointed in finding
them.
Stinging ants are not only closely copied in form and movements by
spiders but by species of Hemiptera and Coleoptera, and the
resemblance is often wonderfully close.* (* Amongst the longicorn
beetles of Chontales, Mallocera spinicollis, Neoclytus Oesopus, and
Diphyrama singularis, Bates, all closely resemble stinging ants
when moving about on fallen logs.) All over the world wasps are
imitated in form and movements by other insects, and in the tropics
these mimetic forms are endless. In many cases the insect imitating
is so widely removed, in the normal form of the order to which it
belongs, from that of the insect imitated, that it is difficult to
imagine how the first steps in the process of imitation took place.
Looking however at the immense variety of insect life in the
tropics, and remembering that in early tertiary times nearly the
whole world was in the same favourable condition as regards
temperature (vegetation, according to Heer, extending to the
poles), and must have supported a vast number of species and genera
that were destroyed during the glacial period, we must suppose
that, in that great variety of forms, it sometimes occurred that
two species belonging to distinct orders somewhat resembled each
other in form or colouration, and that the resemblance was
gradually increased, when one species had special means of
protection, by the other being benefited the more nearly it
approached it in appearance.
It is to be remarked that the forms imitated have always some kind
of defence against insectivorous birds or mammals; they are
provided with stings or unpleasant odours or flavours, or are
exceedingly swift in flight; excepting where inanimate nature is
imitated for concealment. Thus I had an opportunity of proving in
Brazil that some birds, if not all, reject the Heliconii
butterflies, which are closely resembled by butterflies of other
families and by moths. I observed a pair of birds that were
bringing butterflies and dragon-flies to their young, and although
the Heliconii swarmed in the neighbourhood and are of weak flight
so as to be easily caught, the birds never brought one to their
nest. I had a still better means of testing both these and other
insects that are mimicked in Nicaragua. The tame white-faced monkey
I have already mentioned was extremely fond of insects, and would
greedily munch up beetle or butterfly given to him, and I used to
bring to him any insects that I found imitated by others to see
whether they were distasteful or not. I found he would never eat
the Heliconii. He was too polite not to take them when they were
offered to him, and would sometimes smell them, but invariably
rolled them up in his hand and dropped them quietly again after a
few moments. There could be no doubt, however, from the monkey's
actions, that they were distasteful to him. A large species of
spider (Nephila) also used to drop them out of its web when I put
them into it. Another spider that frequented flowers seemed to be
fond of them, and I have already mentioned a wasp that caught them
to store its nest with.
Amongst the beetles there is a family that is just as much mimicked
as the Heliconii are amongst the butterflies. These are the
Lampyridae, to which the fireflies belong. Many of the genera are
not phosphorescent, but all appear to be distasteful to
insectivorous mammals and birds. I found they were invariably
rejected by the monkey, and my fowls would not touch them.
The genus Calopteron belonging to this family is not
phosphorescent. In some of the species, as in C. basalis (Klug),
the wing-covers are widened out behind in a peculiar manner. This
and other species of Calopteron are not only imitated in their
colour and markings by other families of beetles, but also in this
peculiar widening of the elytra. Besides this, the Calopteron when
walking on a leaf raises and depresses its wing cases, and I
observed exactly the same movement in a longicorn beetle (Evander
nobilis, Bates), which is evidently a mimetic form of this genus.
In addition to being mimicked by other families of beetles,
Calopteron is closely resembled by a species of moth (Pionia
lycoides, Walker). This moth varies itself in colour; in one of the
varieties it has a central black band across the wings, when it
resembles Calopteron vicinum (Deyrolle), in another this black band
is wanting, when it resembles C. basalis. Professor Westwood has
also pointed out to me that the resemblance to the beetle is still
further increased in the moth by raised lines of scales running
lengthwise down the thorax.
The phosphorescent species of Lampyridae, the fireflies, so
numerous in tropical America, are equally distasteful, and are also
much mimicked by other insects. I found different species of
cockroaches so much like them in shape and colour that they could
not be distinguished without examination. These cockroaches,
instead of hiding in crevices and under logs like their brethren,
rest during the day exposed on the surface of leaves, in the same
manner as the fireflies they mimic.
Protective resemblances amongst insects are so numerous and
widespread, and they have been so ably described by Bates and
Wallace, that I shall only mention a few of the most noticeable
examples that came under my attention, and which have not been
described by other authors. Amongst these were the striking
modifications of some beetles belonging to the Mordellidae. These,
in their normal form, are curious wedge-shaped beetles, which are
common on flowers, and leap like fleas. In some of the Nicaraguan
species the body is lengthened, and the thorax and elytra coloured,
so as to resemble wasps and flies. In the Mordellidae the head is
small, and nearly concealed beneath the large thorax; and in the
mimetic forms the latter is coloured so as to resemble the large
head and eyes of the wasp or fly imitated. The species that
resembles a wasp moves its antennae restlessly, like the latter
insect.
The movements, as well as the shape and colour of the insect
imitated, are mimicked. I one day observed what appeared to be a
hornet, with brown semi-transparent wings and yellow antennae. It
ran along the ground vibrating its wings and antennae exactly like
a hornet, and I caught it in my net, believing it to be one. On
examining it, however, I found it to belong to a widely different
order. It was one of the Hemiptera, Spiniger luteicornis (Walk.),
and had every part coloured like the hornet (Priocnemis) that it
resembled. In its vibrating coloured wing-cases it departed greatly
from the normal character of the Hemiptera, and assumed that of the
hornets.
All the insects that have special means of protection, by which
they are guarded from the attacks of insectivorous mammals and
birds, have peculiar forms, or strongly contrasted, conspicuous
colours, and often make odd movements that attract attention to
them. There is no attempt at concealment, but, on the contrary,
they appear to endeavour to make their presence known. The long
narrow wings of the Heliconii butterflies, banded with black,
yellow, and red, distinguish them from all others, excepting the
mimetic species. The banded bodies of many wasps, or the rich
metallic colours of others, and their constant jerky motions, make
them very conspicuous. Bees announce their presence by a noisy
humming. The beetles of the genus Calopteron have their wing-cases
curiously distended, and move them up and down, so as to attract
attention; and other species of Lampyridae are phosphorescent,
holding out danger signals that they are not eatable. The reason in
all these cases appears to be the same as Mr. Wallace has shown to
hold good with banded, hairy, and brightly coloured caterpillars.
These are distasteful to birds, and, in consequence of their
conspicuous colours, are easily known and avoided. If they were
like other caterpillars, they might be seized and injured before it
was known they were not fit for food.* (* In a paper on "Mimicry,
and other Protective Resemblances amongst Animals" first published
in the "Westminster Review" July 1867, afterwards in "Natural
Selection", Wallace has elaborately discussed this question. My
observations are supplemental to his and to the original ones of
Bates.)
(PLATE 23. HORNET AND MIMETIC BUG)
Amongst the mammals, I think the skunk is an example of the same
kind. Its white tail, laid back on its black body, makes it very
conspicuous in the dusk when it roams about, so that it is not
likely to be pounced upon by any of the carnivora mistaking it for
other night-roaming animals. In reptiles, the beautifully banded
coral snake (Elaps), whose bite is deadly, is marked as
conspicuously as any noxious caterpillar with bright bands of
black, yellow, and red. I only met with one other example amongst
the vertebrata, and it was also a reptile. In the woods around
Santo Domingo there are many frogs. Some are green or brown, and
imitate green or dead leaves, and live amongst foliage. Others are
dull earth-coloured, and hide in holes and under logs. All these
come out only at night to feed, and they are all preyed upon by
snakes and birds. In contrast with these obscurely coloured
species, another little frog hops about in the daytime dressed in a
bright livery of red and blue. He cannot be mistaken for any other,
and his flaming vest and blue stockings show that he does not court
concealment. He is very abundant in the damp woods, and I was
convinced he was uneatable so soon as I made his acquaintance and
saw the happy sense of security with which he hopped about. I took
a few specimens home with me, and tried my fowls and ducks with
them, but none would touch them. At last, by throwing down pieces
of meat, for which there was a great competition amongst them, I
managed to entice a young duck into snatching up one of the little
frogs. Instead of swallowing it, however, it instantly threw it out
of its mouth, and went about jerking its head as if trying to throw
off some unpleasant taste.* (* Probably the strongly contrasted
colours of the spotted salamander of Southern Europe and the
warning noise made by the rattlesnake may be useful in a similar
manner, as has been suggested by Darwin.)
After travelling three leagues beyond Teustepe, we reached, near
dusk, a small house by the roadside, at which had put up for the
night a party of muleteers, with their mules and cargoes. Our
beasts were too tired to go further, so we determined to take our
chance of finding room for our hammocks. Soon after we alighted, as
I sat on a stone near the door of the house, a gun went off close
to us, and my horse sprang forward, nearly upon me. We soon found
it was our own gun, which had been given to Rito to carry. He had
strapped it behind his saddle, and one of the other mules had come
up, rubbed against it, and let it off. The poor horse was only four
feet from the muzzle, and the contents were lodged in its loin. A
large wound was made from which the blood flowed in a great stream,
until Velasquez got some burnt cloth and stanched it. Fortunately
the charge in the gun was a very light one, and no vital part was
touched. We arranged with the muleteers to take our cargo to
Juigalpa for us, and determined to leave Rito behind to lead the
horse gently to Pital. The horse, which was a very good one,
ultimately recovered.
At this house the woman had eight children, the eldest, I think,
not more than twelve years of age. The man who passed as her
husband was the father of the youngest only. Amongst the lower
classes of Nicaragua men and women often change their mates. In
such cases the children remain with the mother, and take their
surname from her. Baptism is considered an indispensable rite, but
the marriage ceremony is often dispensed with; and I did not notice
that those who lived together without it suffered in the estimation
of their neighbours. The European ladies at Santo Domingo were
sometimes visited by the unmarried matrons of the village, who were
very indignant when they found that there were scruples about
receiving them. They were so used to their own social observances,
that they thought those of the Europeans unwarrantable prudery.
Before turning out the mules, Rito got some limes and squeezed the
juice out upon their feet, just above the hoof. He did this to
prevent them from being bitten by the tarantula spider, a species
of Mygale that makes its nest in the ground, and is said to abound
in this locality. Many of the mules are bitten in the feet on the
savannahs by some venomous animal. The animal bitten immediately
goes lame, and cannot be cured in less than six months, as the hoof
comes off, and has to be renewed. The natives say that the Mygale
is the aggressor; that it gets on the mule's foot to bite off the
hairs to line its nest with, and that if not disturbed it does not
injure the mule, but that if the latter tries to dislodge it, it
bites immediately. I do not know whether this story be true or not,
and I had no opportunity of examining a Mygale's nest to see if it
was lined with hairs, but Professor Westwood informs me that all
that he knows are lined with fine silk. Possibly the mules, when
rambling about, step on the spider, and are then bitten by it.
Velasquez told me that when he was a boy he and other children used
to amuse themselves by pulling the Mygale out of its hole, which is
about a foot deep in the ground. To get it out they fastened a
small ball of soft wax to a piece of string, and lowered it down
the hole, jerking it up and down until the spider got exasperated
so far as to bury its formidable jaws in the wax, when it could be
drawn to the surface.
We had part of the kitchen to sleep in, and were so tired, and
getting so accustomed to sleep anywhere, that we had a good night's
rest, rose early next morning, and were soon on the road again,
leaving Rito to bring on the lamed horse. We had a good view of the
rock of San Lorenzo, a high cliff capping a hill, and resembling
the rocks of Cuapo and Pena Blanca, but with less perpendicular
sides. About this part, which lay high, as well as where we stayed
the night before, there had been rains; but on the lowlands lying
between the two places there had been none. Our road again lay over
grassy plains and low, lightly-timbered hills, with very few
houses--probably not more than one in a league. The country was now
greener; they had had showers of rain, and fine grass had sprung
up. Passing as we did from a dried-up district into one covered
with verdure, feelings were awakened akin to those with which in
the temperate zone we welcome the spring after a long winter.
As we rode on, the grass increased; there were swampy places in the
hollows, and now and then very muddy spots on the road. On every
side the prospect was bounded by long ranges of hills--some of them
precipitous, others covered to the summits with dark foliaged
trees, looking nearly black in the distance. About noon we came in
sight of the Amerrique range, which I recognised at once, and knew
that we had reached the Juigalpa district, though still several
leagues distant from the town. Travelling on without halting we
arrived at the hacienda of San Diego at four o'clock. Velasquez
expected to find in the owner an old acquaintance of his, and we
had intended staying with him for the night, as our mules were
tired out; but on riding up to the house we found it untenanted,
the doors thrown down, and cattle stabling in it. We pushed on
again. I thought I could make La Puerta, a hacienda three leagues
nearer Libertad than Juigalpa, and as the road to it branched off
from that to Juigalpa soon after passing San Diego, and Velasquez
had to go to the latter place to make arrangements for getting our
luggage sent on, I parted with him, and pushed on alone. Soon
after, I crossed rather a deep river, and in a short time my mule,
which had shown symptoms of distress, became almost unable to
proceed, so that it was only with the greatest difficulty I could
get along at all. After leading--almost dragging--it slowly for
about a mile I reached a small hut, where they told me that it was
three leagues to La Puerta, and only one to Juigalpa. The road to
Puerta was all up hill, and it was clearly impossible for me to
reach it that night, so I turned off across the savannahs, in the
direction of Juigalpa, wishing that I had not separated from
Velasquez. My poor beast was dragged along with much labour, and I
was getting thoroughly knocked up myself. Several small temporary
huts were passed, in which lived families that had come down from
the mountains, bringing with them their cows to feed on the plains
during the wet season. I was tempted to put up at one of these, but
all were full of people, and I persevered on until it got quite
dark. Just then I arrived at a hacienda near the river, and engaged
a young fellow to get his horse and ride with me to the town. When
my mule had a companion it went better, and being very tired I got
on its back again. It was extremely dark, and I should not have
found the road without a guide. We passed over the small plain,
where the broken statues lie, but my guide, who had lived all his
life within a mile of them, had never heard of them. My mule fell
heavily with me in a rocky pass, but I escaped with a slight
bruise. We had great trouble to get it on its legs again, and
ultimately reached Juigalpa about nine o'clock.
Next morning I awoke with a dreadful headache and pain in my back,
brought on either by the fatigue of the day before, or by having
been tempted to eat some half-ripe guayavas when coming across the
plains tired and hungry. I lay in the hammock until ten o'clock,
and then feeling a little better, got on my mule and started. I was
so ill as to be obliged to hold on to the pommel of my saddle and
several times to get off and lie down. We had brought some "tiste"
with us made from chocolate and maize, and drinks of this relieved
me. I at last reached Libertad at four o'clock, and went to bed
immediately. Having fasted all day in place of taking medicine, I
rose pretty well next morning, and we rode through the forest to
the mines, reaching them at noon on the 29th July, after an absence
of nineteen days.