Part 14

Under the genial rain and genial heat, the timber-tree itself, all its tangled ruin of lianes and parasites, and the boughs and leaves, snapped off not only by the blow, but by the very wind of the falling tree, all melt away swiftly and peacefully in a few months--say almost a few days--into the water, and carbonic acid, and sunlight out of which they were created at first, to be absorbed instantly by the green leaves around, and, transmuted into fresh forms of beauty, leave not a wrack behind. Explained thus,--and this I believe to be the true explanation,--the absence of leaf-mould is one of the grandest, as it is one of the most startling, phenomena of the forest.

[And thus the writer rambles on, telling fresh marvels of the tropic woods, from which a knowledge is attained that "defies all analysis."]

[It is that of] the causes and effects of their beauty; that "aesthetic" of plants, of which Schleiden has spoken so well in that charming book of his, "The Plant," which all should read who wish to know somewhat of "The Open Secret." But when they read it let them read with open hearts. For that same "Open Secret" is, I suspect, one of those which God may hide from the wise and prudent, and yet reveal to babes.

At least, so it seemed to me, the first day that I went, awe-struck, into the High Woods; and so it seemed to me, the last day that I came, even more awe-struck, out of them.

ANIMALS OF BRITISH GUIANA.

C. BARRINGTON BROWN.

[British Guiana, the land which seems so strongly inclined to extend its borders at the expense of Venezuela, is as yet very far from being the active and well-developed settlement which might be imagined from the aggressiveness of its rulers. Mr. Brown's story of it indicates a land of which nature is still largely the lord, and which is so little known that he, as late as twenty years ago, was able to discover a river and a cataract not previously heard of. The selection we append, descriptive of the wild animals of the country, is significant of an undeveloped land. Mr. Brown, in his "Canoe and Camp Life in British Guiana," describes a number of unsuccessful efforts to shoot jaguars, and continues:]

One of the men happened to go a few yards behind one of our camping-places, when he heard a movement behind him; turning round he saw a jaguar leisurely surveying him. He fled to the camp with his story, and I went in search of the animal accompanied by one man armed with a cutlass. We did not go far before we saw its tracks in the sandy bed of a dry water-course, and concluded that it had gone off. We gave up all hopes of seeing it, and, turning round, were on the point of making our way back to camp, when my companion suddenly exclaimed, "Look! look! the tiger!" Glancing at the spot indicated I saw it crouching in a thicket with its head bent down, its body swaying from side to side, glaring at us with eyes of a greenish metallic hue. The brute had evidently been following us whilst we were searching for it, and was working itself into a rage. I took as good aim at its head as I could, and fired; but instead of seeing it lying dead, I heard it bounding and crashing through the forest at a fearful pace.

One of my men got a shot at a jaguar on a sand-beach, where it passed within twenty feet of him, as he crouched on some rocks. The only effect the shot had on the animal was to make it gallop away a few yards, then turn for an instant and look at him. The men whom I left in charge on the New River cut open a hollow log containing young accouries, and took them out. Their squeals on being seized attracted a puma, which ran close up to the men, apparently wishing to get the accouries, when one of them fired at it and it made off.

One evening, whilst returning to camp along the portage path that we were cutting at Wonobobo Falls, I walked faster than the men, and got some two hundred yards in advance. As I rose the slope of an uneven piece of ground, I saw a large puma (_Felis concolor_) advancing along the other side of the rise towards me, with its nose down on the ground. The moment I saw it I stopped; and at the same instant it tossed up its head, and seeing me also came to a stand. With its body half crouched, its head erect, and its eyes round and black, from its pupils having expanded in the dusky light, it looked at once a noble and appalling sight. I glanced back along our wide path to see if any of my men were coming, as at the moment I felt that it was not well to be alone without some weapon of defence, and I knew that one of them had a gun; but nothing could I see. As long as I did not move the puma remained motionless also, and thus we stood some fifteen yards apart, eying each other curiously. I had heard that the human voice is potent in scaring most wild beasts, and feeling that the time had arrived to do something desperate, I waved my arms in the air and shouted loudly. The effect on the tiger was electrical; it turned quickly on one side, and in two bounds was lost in the forest. I waited until my men came up, however, before passing the place at which it disappeared in case it might only be lying in ambush there; but we saw nothing more of it.

When returning down the portage and dragging our boats over, we saw a jaguar sitting on a log near the same spot, watching our movements with evident curiosity, and although the men were singing as they hauled the boats along, it did not seem to mind the noise. As soon as it saw that it was observed, it jumped off the log, and with a low growl made off. From this I infer that the flight of my puma must have been owing more to the windmill-like motion of my arms than to my voice.

During our journey across from the New River to the Essequebo, we were cooking breakfast one morning, when we heard a tremendous rushing and crashing noise coming towards us through the forest, and then caught a glimpse of an accourie flying for dear life before a black tiger. Just after they passed the accourie gave a heart-rending scream as the tiger seized it, but on my men rushing up to the spot, the tiger left its prey and fled. When picked up the accourie was quite dead, but on examination showed no marks whatever of the tiger's teeth. The tiger had evidently killed it by springing upon it with its legs close together, the weight of its body giving such a blow that the accourie's life was fairly knocked out. The men found its dead body just beyond a large log, slightly raised from the ground, under which it had bolted and lost some headway, while the cunning tiger took the log in its stride and so came, as it intended, on the poor accourie's back, with the result we have seen.

On returning to the head of the New River for provisions, we were followed for many miles by a tiger, for on going back we saw its huge tracks in the swampy places on our path.

With good hunting-dogs fine jaguar- and puma-hunting might be obtained on the banks of this river, where without doubt they are exceedingly numerous. Many of the Indian hunting-dogs trained for deer or tapir will hunt tigers. When on the track of either of these animals, should they come across the scent of a tiger, their eager and confident manner of pressing on after the game is immediately changed, and with hair on their backs erect they become cautious and nervous to a degree, jumping at even the snapping of a twig. Abandoning the hunt they take up the tiger's track and follow it. But should the huntsman call them from it, or not cheer them on with his voice from time to time, they exhibit great fear, and keeping close to his heels cannot be induced to hunt any more in that district for the day. On the contrary, if allowed to follow the tiger, they track it up with caution, being fully aware of the cunning dodge practised by that animal, which is, when the dog is close at hand, to spring to one side and lie in ambush till it passes, when with one spring the dog is seized.

Ordinary dogs would fall a prey to this trap, but not the self-taught tiger dogs. Their fine powers of scent warn them of their near approach to the quarry, when they advance with great caution, never failing to detect the tiger in time, and when once their eye is upon their enemy it has no chance to escape. In its pride of strength, the jaguar scorns the dogs, and with a rush like a ball from a cannon springs madly at one of them, feeling sure that it cannot escape. It has reckoned, however, without its host, for the dog eludes the spring with ease, and with great quickness flies on the tiger's flank, giving it a severe nip. As the tiger turns with a growl of pain and disappointment, the dog is off to a little distance, yelping lustily and never remaining still an instant, but darting first on one side and then on the other. After one or two ineffectual charges the tiger gives it up, and on the approach of the hunter, springs into the nearest suitable tree, which it seldom leaves alive.

[The Indians describe several kinds of tigers and tiger-cats, each of which hunts one kind of animal in particular, whose call it can imitate. The deer-tiger is the puma. The wailah, or tapir-tiger, is pure black and of great size.]

The Corentyne and its branches were literally teeming with fish of various kinds, the greater number being haimara and perai. The latter were so abundant and ferocious that at times it was dangerous, when bathing, to go into the water at a greater depth than up to one's knees. Even then small bodies of these hungry creatures would swim in and make a dash close up to our legs, and then retreat to a short distance. They actually bit the steering paddles as they were drawn through the water astern of the boats. A tapir which I shot swimming across the river had its nose eaten off by them whilst we were towing it to the shore.

Of an evening the men used to catch some of them for sport, and in taking the hook from their mouths produce a wound from which the blood ran freely. On throwing them back into the water in this injured condition they were immediately set upon and devoured by their companions. Even as one was being hauled in on the line, its comrades, seeing that it was in difficulties, attacked it at once. One day, when the boat was hauled in to some rocks, a few of the men were engaged shooting fish near by, and in so doing wounded a large haimara. Having escaped from its human tormentors, it made for the open river, but was instantly attacked by perai attracted by the blood escaping from its wound, and was driven back to the shelter of the rocks close to the boat, from which I had a good view of the chase. The large fish followed by its savage enemies reminded me of a parallel case on land,--a stricken deer pursued by wolves.

The perai, fortunately, lie only off sand-beaches and in quiet pools, not frequenting the cataracts, where their presence would be anything but acceptable to the men when working in the water. I was fortunate enough to find the spawning-place of some perai on the matted clusters of fibrous roots of some lianes, which hung from the branches of a tree into the water, among which much earthy sediment had collected and many small aquatic plants had grown. The sediment gave weight to the roots, which kept the clusters under water, and the force of the current made them buoyant, giving the lianes a slope when the river was high, which kept them not far from its surface. My attention was attracted to them by two perai lying close to them, with their heads up-stream, as the men said, engaged in watching their eggs. Procuring one of the roots I examined it, and found among it numbers of single eggs and clusters of small jelly-like young, which had been already hatched. The eggs were white and about one-eighth of an inch in diameter, with a hard exterior. The young were very little larger, and had a glutinous surface, which caused them to adhere together on being taken from the water. They had not acquired any powers of locomotion, but could just wriggle their tails like tadpoles. Under a lens they resembled the egg devoid of its covering, with a gelatinous ridge around three-quarters of its circumference, one of which expanded into a knob (probably the head), while the other termination was flattened and tail-like. I could not detect any eyes or mouth in them, but their bodies were speckled with gray markings of coloring matter....

In hauling the boats up the shallow rapids near the mouth of the Cutari the men, whilst wading, were frequently struck by conger eels. Every now and then a man would call out "Congler, congler," and jumping into the boat rub his shins, which had been benumbed by a touch from one of these fish. After half a minute or so the numbness wore off and he took to the water again. The boat being in a critical condition at the time, it was impossible for the men to leave the water. They had therefore to brave out the shocks from these batteries, which must have been very slight, given probably by small eels, or they could not have stood them.

Small long-bodied fish were very common, and one kind, called courami, took the baited hook as long as the fisherman who threw the line was out of sight.

The lukenaine, or sunfish, was captured by my men in a singular manner. They manufactured an exceedingly rude fly out of a bunch of silk-grass (_Bromelia karatas_) fibre, and attached it to a large hook with a short line and rod. Drawing it rapidly over pools among the rocks, it was immediately taken by the lukenaine, as the artificial fly is struck by the trout.

Sting-rays were frequently seen on the sandy bottom or grovelling for worms in the muddy banks under water. My interpreter, William, was unfortunate enough to step upon one, which, being of the color of the bottom, was not observed. It drove its spine or sting into the side of his instep, producing a jagged wound which bled profusely. I immediately put laudanum on the wound and gave him a strong dose of ammonia. In a quarter of an hour after he was writhing on the ground in great agony, actually screaming at times with the pain he felt in the wounded part, in his groin, and under one armpit. His foot and leg were so cold that he got one man to light a fire and support his foot over it, persisting in trying to put it in the flames. I gave him two doses of laudanum, one shortly after the other, without relieving his sufferings in the slightest degree. After three hours of intense pain he became easier, but had returns of it at intervals during the night. For a week he was unable to put his foot on the ground, and the wound did not heal thoroughly for six weeks....

We did not see a single cayman during our stay on the Corentyne. It may safely be inferred that there are none on that river, a singular fact that cannot be accounted for. Small alligators, of about four feet in length, are numerous, however, and one of them one night carried off a young cat which the men had brought from Georgetown. Poor puss had gone to the water's edge to drink, when the alligator with one blow of its tail swept it into the water and carried it away. On the following morning we saw the alligator with its snout resting on a rock near by, so I shot it; the men dragging it out of the water and leaving it on the rocks. On returning, some months afterwards, we camped at the same place, and there among the bones of the alligator saw those of the cat bleaching in the sun.

Iguanas were numerous, and on one occasion, when one in a tree overhead was shot at with an arrow, it jumped down to gain the water, but not calculating its distance accurately, landed on the back of one of the men, who, seeing it coming, ducked his head and dropped his paddle overboard. The paddle, being made of paruru, or paddle-wood, was heavy, and sank, and the man was afraid to dive for it among the numerous perai.

[The author proceeds to describe the birds and trees of the region, ending with an interesting account of the Brazil-nut.]

Upon the borders of the New River and main Corentyne, above the last-mentioned fall, we met with large groves of Brazil-nut-trees, and on the ground beneath them obtained numbers of their nuts. I was fortunate to find some of the nut-cases containing nuts that had commenced to germinate, each nut sending out long roots from one end and young plants from the other. The roots were all twisted and matted together, quite filling up the cavities in the case around the nuts; yet the nut-case was hard and showed no signs of decay, so that it is difficult to say how the young plants free themselves. There is a small aperture where the fruit-stalk was once attached, but in only one instance did I find a case in which one of the young plants had found its way out through this and sent forth leaves. It seems to me that when this happens one plant alone survives of the twelve or fifteen that commenced to grow, and that its matted roots, gradually filling the nut-case, eventually burst it, when the plant is free to take root in the earth. The strong cover of the growing nut is a necessary protection to the young plant, for without such it would be devoured by one of the host of animals that are ready to eat it.

I planted some of the sprouting nuts, cut out of their hard outer covering, on my way up the river, but on returning found that they had all been dug up and eaten by rats and other small vermin. I therefore had a lot planted in a box at our camp above King Frederick William IV. Fall on my first return to that spot, and placed on the stem of a small tree cut off some five feet from the ground. In this position they were free from the attacks of small animals, and, being covered with a shelter of some palm-leaves, thrived wonderfully. These plants were subsequently sent to Kew, where they arrived in a fine healthy condition.

We found many nut-cases with holes cut in them by accouries, the marks of the gnawing teeth of those animals being plainly shown. My men used to open them by chopping off their ends with a cutlass, which, owing to their hardness, was no easy operation. The quatas, or large black spider-monkeys, spent a good deal of their time in trying to open them by beating them against the branches of trees or on hard logs upon the ground; and as we passed a grove of Brazil-nut-trees it was amusing to hear the hammering sounds produced by these fellows at their self-imposed tasks. Where a single monkey was thus employed the blows were most laughably "few and far between," the creature showing its true indolent character by the slow way in which it performed its work, resting for a few minutes between every blow. It also showed an amount of perseverance, however, that one would not look for in a monkey, and a knowledge that it would eventually reap a reward for its hard labor.

Goodness knows how long it takes one of these monkeys to break a nut-case; but the time must be great, for on one occasion, during our journey from the New River to the upper Essequebo, we got quietly among a lot of the nut-breakers, and secured a nut-case which one in its hurry had left upon a log, and which was worn smooth by the friction of the monkey's hands. This had evidently been pounded for a length of time, but showed no signs of cracking. Its natural aperture was large enough to allow the monkey's fingers to touch the ends of the nuts inside, which were picked and worn by its nails. Near the same place we saw a nut-case split in two, on the flat surface of a large granite rock, that had evidently been broken by a monkey, for there were no Brazil-nut-trees, from which it could have fallen, overhanging the spot.

The blossoms of the Brazil-nut-tree are large and yellow, having a delicate aromatic perfume. They are similar, but larger than the caccarali, or monkey-pot-tree (_Lecythis ollaria_), whose flowers are so powerfully scented.

LIFE AND SCENERY IN VENEZUELA.

ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT.

[The illustrious traveller and scientist from whose picturesque descriptions of life and scenery in South America we here quote was born in Berlin, September 14, 1769. After a careful university education and scientific labors in Europe, he set sail for America in 1799, and during the succeeding five years explored a great extent of territory within the areas of the present states of Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and Mexico. For twenty-five years succeeding his return he was employed in arranging his collections, publishing the results of his observations, and in other scientific labors. In 1829 he again became a traveller, and explored a wide district in Asia. He died, in his ninetieth year, May 6, 1859. Few men have ever done so much for the advancement of science, while his published works of travel contain much that is of value from a literary point of view. We extract a series of interesting passages relating to scenery and incidents in the Orinoco region. The first is descriptive of the remarkable "cow-tree."]

When incisions are made in the trunk of this tree, it yields abundance of a glutinous milk, tolerably thick, devoid of all acridity, and of an agreeable and balmy smell. It was offered to us in the shell of a calabash. We drank considerable quantities of it in the evening before we went to bed, and very early in the morning, without feeling the least injurious effect. The glutinous character of this milk alone renders it a little disagreeable. The negroes and the free people who work in the plantations drink it, dipping into it their bread of maize or cassava. The overseer of the farm told us that the negroes grow sensibly fatter during the season when the _palo de vaca_ furnishes them with most milk. The juice, exposed to the air, presents at its surface membranes of a strongly animalized substance, yellowish, stringy, and resembling cheese.

Amidst the great number of curious phenomena which I have observed in the course of my travels, I confess there are few that have made so powerful an impression on me as the aspect of the cow-tree. Whatever relates to milk or to corn inspires an interest which is not merely that of the physical knowledge of things, but is connected with another order of ideas and sentiments. We can scarcely conceive how the human race could exist without farinaceous substances, and without that nourishing juice which the breast of the mother contains, and which is appropriated to the long feebleness of the infant. The amylaceous matter of corn, the object of religious veneration among so many nations, ancient and modern, is diffused in the seeds and deposited in the roots of vegetables; milk, which serves as an aliment, appears to us exclusively the produce of animal organization. Such are the impressions we have received in our earliest infancy; such is also the source of that astonishment created by the aspect of the tree just described. It is not here the solemn shades of forests, the majestic course of rivers, the mountains wrapped in eternal snow, that excite our emotion. A few drops of vegetable juice recall to our minds all the powerfulness and the fecundity of nature. On the barren flank of a rock grows a tree with coriaceous and dry leaves. Its large woody roots can scarcely penetrate into the stone. For several months of the year not a single shower moistens its foliage. Its branches appear dead and dried; but when the trunk is pierced there flows from it a sweet and nourishing milk. It is at the rising of the sun that this vegetable fountain is most abundant. The negroes and natives are then seen hastening from all quarters, furnished with large bowls to receive the milk, which grows yellow and thickens at its surface. Some empty their bowls under the tree itself, others carry the juice home to their children.