|18|
|Spaltenumbruch|
Selected for “The Friend.”On leaving the Island del Diamante, in whichZambos, who speak Spanish, cultivate sugar-canes,we entered on scenes of nature characterized bywildness and grandeur. The air was filled withcountless flocks of flamingoes and other water birds,which appeared against the blue sky like a darkcloud with continually varying outlines. The riverhad here narrowed to between 900 and 1000 feet,and flowing in a perfectly straight line, formed akind of canal, enclosed on either side by densewood. The margin of the forest presents at thispart a singular appearance. In front of the almostimpenetrable wall of giant trunks of Cæsalpinia,Cedrela, and Desmanthus, there rises from thesandy river beach, with the greatest regularity, alow hedge of Sauso, only four feet high, consistingof a small shrub, Hermesia castaneifolia. Someslender thorny palms stand next; and the whole re-sembles a close, well-pruned garden hedge, havingonly occasional openings at considerable distancesfrom each other, which have doubtless been madeby the larger four-footed beasts of the forest, to gaineasy access to the river. One sees, more especiallyin the early morning and at sunset, the Americantiger or jaguar, the tapir, and the peccary, leadtheir young through these openings to the river todrink. When startled by the passing canoe, theydo not attempt to regain the forest by breakingforcibly through the hedge which has been de-scribed, but one has the pleasure of seeing these wildanimals stalk leisurely along between the river andthe hedge for four or five hundred paces, until theyhave reached the nearest opening, when they dis-appear through it. In the course of an almostuninterrupted river navigation of 1520 miles onthe Orinoco to near its sources, on the Cassi-quiare, and on the Rio Negro—and during whichwe were confined for seventy-four days to a smallcanoe—we enjoyed the repetition of the samespectacle at several different points, and, I may add,always with new delight. There came down to-gether, to drink, to bathe, or to fish, groups con-sisting of the most different classes of animals, thelarger mammalia being associated with many co-loured herons, palamedeas, and proudly-steppingcurassow and cashew birds. “Es como en elParaise”—it is here as in Paradise—said, with apious air, our steersman, an old Indian, who had|Spaltenumbruch|
been brought up in the house of an ecclesiastic.The peace of the golden age was, however, far fromprevailing among the animals of this Americanparadise, which carefully watched and avoidedeach other. The capybara is devoured in the ri-ver by crocodiles and on shore by the tiger. Itruns so indifferently that we were several timesable to catch individuals from among the nume-rous herds which presented themselves.Below the mission of Santa Barbara de Arichuna,we passed the night, as usual, under the open sky,on a sandy flat on the bank of the Rio Apure,closely bordered by the impenetrable forest. Itwas not without difficulty that we succeeded infinding dry wood to kindle the fire with which it isalways customary in that country to surround abivouac, in order to guard against the attacks ofthe jaguar. The night was humid, mild and moon-light. Several crocodiles approached the shore; Ithink I have observed these animals to be attractedby fire, like our cray-fish and many other inhabit-ants of the water. The oars of our boat wereplaced upright, and carefully driven into theground, to form poles from which our hammockscould be suspended. Deep stillness prevailed; onlyfrom time to time we heard the blowing of thefresh water dolphins, which are peculiar to theOrinoco net-work of rivers, (and, according toColebrooke, to the Ganges as far as Benares,) whichfollowed each other in long lines. Soon after 11o’clock, such a disturbance began to be heard inthe adjoining forest, that for the remainder of thenight all sleep was impossible. The wild cries ofanimals appeared to rage throughout the forest.Among the many voices which resounded together,the Indians could only recognise those which, aftershort pauses in the general uproar, were first heardsingly. There was the monotonous howling of thealuates, (the howling monkeys;) the plaintive, soft,and almost flute like tones of the small sapajous;the snorting grumblings of the striped nocturnalmonkey; the interrupted cries of the great tiger,the cuguar or maneless American lion, the pec-cary, the sloth, and a host of parrots, of parraquas,and other pheasant-like birds. When the tigerscame near the edge of the forest, our dog, whichbefore had barked incessantly, came howling toseek refuge under our hammocks. Sometimes thecry of the tiger was heard to proceed from amidstthe high branches of a tree, and was in such casealways accompanied by the plaintive piping of themonkeys, who were seeking to escape from theunwonted pursuit.If one asks the Indians why this incessant noiseand disturbance arises on particular nights, theyanswer, with a smile, that “the animals are re-joicing in the bright moonlight, and keeping thefeast of the full moon.” To me it appeared thatthe scene had probably originated in some acci-dental combat, and that hence the disturbance hadspread to other animals, and thus the noise hadincreased more and more. The jaguar pursues thepeccaries and tapirs, and these pressing againsteach other in their flight, break through the inter-woven tree-like shrubs which impede their escape;the apes on the tops of the trees, being frightenedby the crash, join their cries to those of the largeranimals; this arouses the tribes of birds, who buildtheir nests in communities, and thus the whole ani-mal world becomes in a state of commotion. Longerexperience taught us that it is by no means alwaysthe celebration of the brightness of the moon whichdisturbs the repose of the woods; we witnessed thesame occurrence repeatedly, and found that thevoices were loudest during violent falls of rain, orwhen, with loud peals of thunder, the flashinglightning illuminated the deep recesses of the|Spaltenumbruch|
forest. The good-natured Franciscan monk who,although he had been suffering for several monthsfrom fever, accompanied us through the Cataractsof Atures and Maypures to San Carlos on the RioNegro, and to the Brazilian boundary, used to saywhen fearful on the closing in of night that theremight be a thunder storm, “May heaven grant aquiet night both to us and to the wild beasts of theforest.”Scenes, such as those I have just described, werewonderfully contrasted with the stillness whichprevails within the tropics during the noontidehours of a day of more than usual heat. I borrowfrom the same journal the recollections of a dayat the Narrows of Baragnan. At this part ofits course, the Orinoco forces for itself a passagethrough the western portion of the Parime moun-tains. What is called at this remarkable pass a“Narrow,” is still a bed or water-basin of 5690feet in breadth. On the naked rocks which formedthe shores we saw only, besides an old witheredstem Aubletia and a new Apocinea (Allamandasalicifolia,) a few silvery croton shrubs. A ther-mometer in the shade, but brought within a fewinches of the towering mass of granite rock, rose toabove 122° Fahr. All distant objects had wave-like, undulating outlines, the effect of mirage; nota breath of air stirred the fine, dust-like sand. Thesun was in the zenith, and the flood of light whichhe poured down upon the river, and which, froma slight rippling movement of the waters, flashedsparkling back, rendered still more sensible thered haze which veiled the distance. All the nakedrocks and boulders around were covered with acountless number of large thick-scaled iguanas,gecko-lizards, and variously spotted salamanders.Motionless, with uplifted heads and open months,they appeared to inhale the burning air with ecs-tasy. At such times the larger animals seek shel-ter in the recesses of the forest, and the birds hidethemselves under the thick foliage of the trees, orin the clefts of the rocks; but if in this apparententire stillness of nature, one listens for the faint-est tones which an attentive ear can seize, there isperceived an all-pervading rustling sound, a hum-ming and fluttering of insects close to the ground,and in the lower strata of the atmosphere. Every-thing announces a world of organic activity andlife. In every bush, in the cracked bark of thetrees, in the earth undermined by lymenopterousinsects, life stirs audibly. It is, as it were, one ofthe many voices of Nature, heard only by the sen-sitive and reverent ear of her true votaries.—Humboldt’s Aspects of Nature.
