CHAPTER XI.

EL FRIO.

On arriving at El Frio, we were agreeably surprised at finding more spacious accommodations than we had anticipated. The house, although thatched like all the rest with palm leaves, was spacious and well built of pajareque; that is, the framework of the walls was of strong posts of timber, well lathed and plastered over with soft mud mixed with straw. In addition to a large sala or reception room, it contained three or four sleeping apartments; but these last were so full of bats, that it was impossible to pass a comfortable night in them, especially on account of the disagreeable odor proceeding from these disgusting creatures, while the incessant bird-like chirping sound which they made overhead, completely murdered our first night’s sleep. We tried in vain to smoke them out by means of dried cow dung. They absented themselves during a portion of the day, but were sure to return at dusk, bringing with them an abundant supply of wild berries for their supper, some of which they were constantly dropping in our{149} hammocks, finally compelling us to seek refuge in the open air of the corridors and courtyard.

Apart from the mansion stood a row of smaller structures containing the kitchen and storerooms of the farm, which being useless to us, we abandoned to the bats and turkey-buzzards. Our cooking, as usual, was left to our skilful chef Mónico and his satellites, who preferred the sans fa?on style of the camp to confining themselves in the narrow range of a kitchen.

 

That which chiefly attracted my attention at this farm was the substantial nature of the fence encompassing the buildings, capable of resisting not only the sudden rush of a herd of cattle, for which purpose it was intended, but also a heavy cannonade, in case of need. It was constructed of enormous blocks of trees, almost impervious to steel or fire, driven into the ground, each as close to the other as possible, and neatly trimmed at top so as to present an even surface. I was unable to comprehend by what means those monster rails could have been removed from the forest. This, I afterwards ascertained, had been accomplished during the inundation of the savannas, when they are easily transported in balsas or rafts made of lighter wood. The trees yielding this everlasting timber are two distinct species of acacias, known in the country under the euphonious names of Angelino and Acapro, either of which will turn the edge of the best tempered steel if great care is not used. I was shown here two uprights to the principal gate of the majada or great enclosure for cattle, nearly a hundred years old, still in perfect preservation,{150} although standing in soil subject to alternate inundations and parching heats.

The majada, also formed of strong posts, was sufficiently spacious to contain three thousand animals, with compartments for the accommodation of the herds during the various operations of cattle farms. Although there was abundant vegetable material for the comfort or security of the inmates, I observed here, as everywhere, a total want of shade trees around the houses. The Llaneros, although strongly addicted to the “sweets of savage life,” are decidedly opposed to trees in the immediate neighborhood of their dwellings. Trees, say they, attract the thunderbolt of heaven and the wild beasts of the field, being besides the natural refuge of snakes and mosquitoes during the great floods. This lack of shade was the more regretted by us as we were then in the midst of the summer solstice, when the sun pours its vertical rays upon the dry soil, while each day between the hours of ten and eleven, a strong breeze arose, sweeping over the exposed plain, and bringing with it showers of sand; this lodged in our mouths, eyes and ears, and mingled with the food, thus rendering it unpalatable even to our carnivorous appetites. And yet, but a short distance from the house bloomed an inviting grove, two or three miles in circumference; this a man of taste could have readily converted into a delightful abode, especially as in the rainy season the inundation of the surrounding savannas would permit the approach of vessels from the Orinoco, by which the owner could supply himself with all the comforts of civilized life. This charming spot was{151} further embellished by a small lake, where we daily watered our horses, though not without some risk to life and limb on account of the babas and caimans swarming in its depths. Even the shallower portions were so filled with sting-rays, caribes, and other aquatic vermin, as to render bathing in it extremely hazardous. Our ablutions, therefore, were limited to the occasional scrubbing of our dusty and heated bodies with wet towels. The babas, although still more repulsive in appearance than their relative of the long snout—the crocodile—are considered a bonne bouche, especially the tail, the flesh of which is said to rival chicken in its flavor. From this uninviting fount of the desert, necessity compelled us to replenish our gourds each afternoon, that the particles of sand and clay with which it was filled might have time to settle during the night.

The summer breezes, although disagreeable in many respects, are yet most necessary, carrying off noxious exhalations arising from the marshy deposits which remain in those low grounds long after the waters have subsided; otherwise those regions would be uninhabitable. The Apure is especially salubrious in the dry season, and were it not for their imprudences, the inhabitants would enjoy perfect health during at least seven months of the year. But these people, careless of consequences, and trusting to their iron constitutions, are not deterred, while in the excitement of a long chase, from plunging into one of these pestiferous marshes after the object of their pursuit. The result is a severe reaction of the system, followed by violent spasms, fevers, or that most horrid{152} of diseases, elephantiasis or mal de San Lazaro, so prevalent in the hot regions of tropical America. Add to this recklessness the great want of medical resources in the country, and the consequent wretchedness and misery can be readily imagined. Nevertheless, the inhabitants seem to care so little about these endemic vicissitudes, that in time one accustoms himself also to view them in the same spirit of fatalism which they attach to every event of their lives.

I was never weary of admiring the beauty of the sky and transparency of the atmosphere at this season. Objects three or four miles distant appeared as if actually only a few rods from the beholder, a circumstance which often misled me when in my rambles after game I had to traverse the plain on foot, occasioning frequent disappointments in my reckonings.

The radiation of heat evolved from the earth at night, produced by the perfect clearness of the sky, was so great at times as to produce a very sensible degree of cold, which rendered the use of blankets quite acceptable; hence the name of El Frio given to this estate. The evenings, especially, were so raw and chilly, that in order to keep warm, we passed a great portion of the night in revelry and dancing by moonlight, although not one crinoline graced our soirées. But we had excellent dancers of the Zapateo, a sort of “breakdown,” in which most of our men exhibited a flexibility of feet and ankles which would have done credit to the most accomplished Ethiopian troop.

Our host ?o Juan Manuel, as the overseer was familiarly styled, had engaged the services of a celebrated{153} player on the bandola from Banco Largo, and there being no lack of improvisatori among us, these nightly revels were conducted with all the éclat that circumstances would permit. Among the bards who distinguished themselves most at such times were the Negro Quintana, an old Sergeant of the Guard, whose constant attendance for many years on his beloved Chief and “Master,” as he styled the General, had endeared him to the latter; and Sarmiento, as the other was named, who acted in the capacity of caporal to the cattle farm of San Pablo. Both of these made themselves famous by the wonderful facility with which they improvised on any given subject. They occasionally varied the performances by singing to their guitars ballads whose burden was invariably some adventure arising from the eventful life in the pampas. Of these choice morceaux the most popular were “Mambrun,” an imitation of the old French song, “Malbrook s’en fut en guerre,” and “Marcelino.” The hero of this last was a renowned bandit, who for a long time baffled all efforts to capture him, but who finally received his deserts from the hands of a traitor, who joined his forays for the purpose of betraying him to his enemies.

Marcelino was a common peon in one of the cattle farms bordering the river Matiyure, but being of a restless and daring disposition, preferred the roving life of a bandit to the more sober occupations of the farm. Finding himself pursued by the hand of justice, he was compelled for a time to seek refuge among the Indians south of the great river Meta, who are at this day sole tenants of those immeasurable{154} wilds. His superior acquirements and boldness soon gained him the confidence and respect of the savages, who finally adopted him for their leader, following him in his marauding expeditions against the defenceless cattle farms this side of the Arauca. Emboldened by success, they attacked the wealthy town of that name, whence Marcelino carried off a beautiful woman, the wife of a respectable farmer of the place, who employed every means in his power to recover her. All efforts, however, were for a time fruitless, owing to the wild nature of the country and the cunning of her captor; but he was finally taken in one of his expeditions. The intention had been to send him to Achaguas, with which object he was well bound and placed under a strong escort; but being a great favorite with all classes of Llaneros, who admire valor in every form, he was finally given in charge of the famous Manuel Blanco—a rich land owner of the Apure—at the earnest solicitation of the latter, who promised to see him safely delivered to the authorities. On the way thither, however, Marcelino managed to give his bondsman the slip, and escaped to his favorite haunts again. All further attempts to retake him failing at that time, a bold sambo from the upper country volunteered to penetrate into the unknown region, intending to decoy him and his savage band to a certain cattle farm where a strong picket of cavalry would lie in wait. Having represented to Marcelino that immense wealth in money and jewels was possessed by the owners of the farm, the bandit concluded to come out of his fastness and retrieve his former fame by a bold{155} dash at the cattle farm of Herradero. On arriving at the place, where matters having been arranged as had been agreed upon between Maldonado—the betrayer’s appropriate name—and the officers of justice, Marcelino and his band were surprised. He endeavored to escape, but Maldonado spurring his horse toward the unsuspecting bandit, pierced him with his sword. Without delaying he then pushed on, followed by the hateros, to the camp where the unfortunate lady was still a captive. They found her surrounded by a train of red skin dames of honor, all of whom were afterward distributed as servants among the families of their conquerors.

Nearly all the Indians of that tribe were destroyed on this occasion, only a few escaping to the Big Forest, where they bewailed among the monkeys and jaguars of those solitudes the loss of their favorite chieftain. The ballad which commemorates the event, commences:
“A Marcelino lo mataron
En el hato de Herradero,
Y los Indios lo lloraron
A su capitan vaquero.”
Marcelino the bold was slain,
Slain at the farm of Herradero;
And the Indians lament in vain
Their loved sportsman, chieftain and hero.

Maldonado, who at heart was a rogue of the same stamp as Marcelino, having tasted of the independent roving life of the bandit, found it so congenial that he concluded to follow the illustrious example of his{156} former leader and associate; but wanting in the principal traits which had raised the latter to his exalted position, was speedily destroyed and almost precisely in the same manner which he had devised for the overthrow of the renowned Marcelino. Previous to this, however, Maldonado, in imitation of his former chieftain, and availing himself of the defenceless state of the town of Guasdualito, attempted to carry off from thence la Villafa?e, a lady celebrated for her beauty. With this intent, he brought to her door a horse already saddled for her, and commanded her to mount and follow him. This she indignantly refused to do; but finding all entreaties and resistance of no avail, she seized some poison from a drawer at hand, and with resolution worthy of a Roman matron, placed it to her lips, exclaiming, as she did so, that she would surely swallow it if he did not instantly quit her presence. The threat proved successful; for the bandit, awed by her heroism, left her.

 

The business of the pampas required us to be up at the first peep of dawn. A cup of coffee and milk, mixed with ground parched corn—which I would recommend to all travellers on long journeys of this sort—served us until breakfast time. I amused myself during the day sketching in company with my friend, Mr. Thomas, while the men made their preparations for a grand hunt among the cattle of the estate. The most important of these arrangements was that of manufacturing from hides sufficient lazos for the sport. There is a marked difference between the skins of bullocks raised in the shady parts of the{157} Llanos and those roaming wild over the deserts of the Apure. Although the former are much thicker, the lazos made from the hides of cattle constantly exposed to the sun’s rays are infinitely stronger. The lazo is easily made. A fresh hide, spread upon the ground with the hair downward, is neatly cut into a long strap two inches wide. This is twisted into a tight thong and stretched out to dry between two posts, after which it is well rubbed with fat. When thoroughly dried, a loop is made at one end; through this, when required for use, the thong is passed, forming the noose or lazo proper, while the other end is firmly tied to the horse’s tail, using its long hair for the purpose. In other parts of South America they fasten the lazo to a ring in the saddle; but this arrangement, besides causing too great strain upon the horse’s back, is fraught with danger to the rider in case of a recoil from the thong if a break occur. The thorough training which horses receive in the Llanos is invaluable in such cases, as not only does the success of the chase depend on the readiness with which he obeys his rider, but even after the game is secured with the lazo, it is necessary that the horse should range instantly on a line with the struggling victim; but unless this is effected before the strain comes upon the lazo, the horse and his rider are inevitably overthrown. The hunter, at the moment of using the lazo, coils a portion of the thong, which he holds with his left hand, and with the rest forms the running noose, which is repeatedly whirled around his head to keep it open. When within reach of his mark, he aims at the animal’s head and throws the noose in such a{158} manner as to cause a rapid uncoiling of the thong in his left hand. Some Llaneros are so expert as to entangle at the same instant the feet and head of the animal, on which he is quickly brought to the ground.

 

We were joined at El Frio by another party of cattle hunters, under the leadership of an old acquaintance, Colonel Castejon, widely celebrated in the Llanos for great bravery and skill in the pursuits of the country. He came to help us in the hunt after wild cattle, and to help himself to as many animals as he could drive home with his party. We also had the honor of a visit from the Governor of the Province, Se?or Arciniega, a jovial, talkative, and well-informed functionary, and the most accomplished marksman of the Apure. It was therefore proposed to have a grand shooting match in the open field, and with this view we all started one morning for a creek called Macanillal, about three miles distant, intending to use the crocodiles, by far the most difficult animal to shoot, as targets. On entering the woody banks of the creek, we were agreeably surprised to discover on the soft mud evident proofs that we had come in the right direction, not only for our anticipated sport with the water monsters, but also that we were likely to have a brush with even a more formidable antagonist—the jaguar. Footprints of this splendid animal were so numerous, that we forgot for a time the crocodiles and made diligent search for the nobler game. We had small success, however, having no dogs with us to drive him from the jungle; for, unless{159} he has the advantage over his adversaries, the jaguar never shows himself in the day-time.

As we came in sight of the water, I was astonished at seeing its whole surface bubbling as if in a state of effervescence, and at finding also on nearer inspection that this was occasioned by the blowing close to the water’s surface of millions of coporos. Other varieties of fish were also so abundant, that we shot many near the shore, among them a very fine catfish.

The report of the guns brought to the surface numbers of crocodiles, which we prepared to assail from the high bank of the creek. To our honorable guest, the Governor, was conceded the privilege of shooting the first, which he did with great accuracy, sending a ball directly through one of the creature’s eyes. Still the shot did not kill him instantly, as would have been the result with any other animal; and he plunged through the creek for a time at a furious rate, lashing the water with his powerful tail, and causing great commotion among the finny multitude. The other crocodiles in lieu of being alarmed with the uproar, were only rendered more inquisitive, dashing forward with gleaming eyes and tusks, which so fascinated my friend the English artist, as rather endangered his safety in his eagerness to get a thorough view of the reptiles. Forgetting his proximity to the precipice, he approached it so nearly as to miss his footing, and would doubtless have rolled into one of the open jaws below him, but for the prompt assistance of a companion, who caught him as he was in the act of falling.{160}

From the same place where the first shot was fired, we succeeded in killing or wounding not less than twenty crocodiles; but the banks being high and precipitous, we could not secure the carcases. One of these, which lay stranded on a sand bank across the creek, being characterized by a singular hump on his back, which added to his already monstrous size, I felt a great desire to examine more closely. To accomplish this, it was necessary to ford the creek lower down, where I was assured the water was sufficiently low to allow of walking over. The undertaking was not, however, without considerable risk from the numerous sting-rays and caribes. But my interest in all pertaining to Nature’s works helped me over to the other side, whither I was accompanied by Roseliano, a youth attached to my family, famed as a dare-devil. With his assistance I dragged the crocodile partly out of water, and was examining the load which nature had placed upon his back, when Roseliano perceived a movement of one of his eyes, the other having been shattered by the bullet; we supposed he had been by this time quite dead. My young companion, who had expressed his suspicions that the crocodile was only feigning death, wishing to ascertain the truth, proposed stabbing him in the armpit with his dagger. Before permitting this, I insisted upon securing the jaws by means of a large stake which we sharpened at one end and plunged into his nostrils, and I then leaned upon it with the whole weight of my body. This precaution saved my companion, but came very near proving fatal to myself, as the instant the crocodile felt the cold steel{161} between his ribs he raised his enormous head, lifting me at least a foot from the ground; but was prevented from injuring me by the stake which he caught between his powerful tusks, shattering it to splinters, and then retreated to the middle of the creek. His triumph was, however, of short duration; for, the blood oozing in torrents from his wounds, he quickly fell a prey to thousands of hungry caribes.

Sir Robert Schombourgh relates an incident which occurred during his ascent of the river Berbice, and which further demonstrates the tenacity of life in the cayman. “One was fired at, floating, and the ball took off the end of the snout; it received another immediately afterward in the hinder part of the skull which appeared to have taken effect; still, the Indians were not sparing in their blows, and when there was not much likelihood of its possessing a spark of life, it was deposited on the bow of one of the corials. While the corial was drawn across the rapids, two of the Arawaaks got courage and took it up in order to lay it in a more convenient place; they had just effected this, when at one bound it jumped out into the river and disappeared. The Indians looked quite stupefied, and never afterward could be persuaded to touch a cayman.”

The creek of Macanillal is also famous for its many water-dogs, or perros de agua (Myopotamus coypos) and nutrias. The latter is a large species of otter with a fine glossy fur. The former resembles a beaver very closely, but has a round tail similar to that of the opossum. Both animals live in the water,{162} coming out occasionally to sun themselves on the sand banks. In a hut near the scene of our last crocodile adventure I saw a skin of the water-dog which measured five feet in length, exclusive of the tail; but although I often made diligent search for this singular amphibious animal, I never had an opportunity of making his acquaintance. Like the otter he is extremely shy, and only the practised eye of an Indian can trace him near the surface of the water when he rises to breathe.