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CHAPTER XXIV.

发布时间:2020-07-01 作者: 奈特英语

SCENES AT THE PASS OF APURITO.

When we were apprised that every thing was ready at the pass, we moved on from San Pablo with the horses, the cattle following behind by easy marches, to allow them sufficient time to graze on the rich herbage by the way.

On our arrival at Apurito, we found the river quite swollen with the recent showers and already extending from bank to bank. The first business was to select among our men and horses the strongest and most capable of enduring the fatigue and of guiding through the boisterous waves of the Apure the various lots into which the cattle were divided for the purpose. Our next step was to assemble at the pass a sufficient number of canoes with expert paddlers to act in concert with the leading men and horses, by flanking the swimmers in the river. Two long palisades, running parallel down to the bank of the river and narrowing toward the water, had already been constructed; through these the animals, in lots of two hundred at a time, were driven at full speed,{363} with deafening shouts and earnest goading, while two men, stripped naked and mounted on two spirited horses without saddles, headed the movement, plunging headlong into the river pell-mell with the cattle, which were thus encouraged to swim across. A herd of tame animals was stationed on the opposite shore to incorporate the swimmers as they came out of the water. Having done this, the leaders swam back to procure another lot of animals, a feat they performed for about twenty successive times in the course of the day. Nevertheless, the task was not so easily accomplished as was practised with the horses; for it often happened that the bulls became quite refractory and pugnacious, in which case the men in the canoes were obliged to hold them by the horns, dragging them along by main force as they paddled on; at other times the beasts got alongside of the leading men and horses, and then the danger to both was imminent, the bulls attacking them in the water; thus many valuable horses were killed by these infuriated animals, while the men had several narrow escapes. What with savage bulls, electric eels, crocodiles and caribes—not to mention other pernicious creatures of the waters and the broad expanse of the river before them—the task of these bold adventurers is truly appalling; yet they go to work and accomplish their task with a willing heart and a perfect nonchalance of every thing around them. The same might be said also in regard to the noble steeds which share with them the dangers of the river, acting at the same time the part of floating bridges to the men, and as decoys to the cattle during the passage. Their{364} powers of endurance, in this instance, are the more surprising, inasmuch as they are not allowed even a few moments’ rest after they land, being kept in constant motion the whole day.

A number of horsemen with lazos were also stationed along the shore to secure those bulls which, eluding the vigilance of the men in the canoes, succeeded in regaining the land; many were drowned, however, in the attempt, and their carcasses abandoned to the turkey-buzzards, from an inherent disgust among the people of the Llanos for the flesh of animals which have not been killed in the usual way. On one or two occasions, the whole troop rebelled against their drivers and succeeded in making their escape to their pasture fields, in spite of the horsemen on shore; others, after reaching the sloping banks across the river below the pass, were arrested in their flight by the overhanging cliffs, and finally hurled to a watery grave by the rapid rise of the river.

Thus the cost of these expeditions, although exceedingly interesting to those participating in the excitement, is sometimes greater than the profits arising therefrom, and none but Llaneros, who are accustomed to live on beef and water, ought to indulge in this truly savage business. Our loss in horses alone, without reckoning the expenses of the expedition and the danger to flesh and bone, amounted on this occasion to about thirty animals, which in round figures, setting the value of every horse at the minimum price of one hundred dollars, would make the sum of three thousand dollars; while the value of the cattle itself, many of which were also lost to us, could hardly be{365} set down at five dollars a head at that epoch. One of the horses was so valuable, that our Leader requested the Doctor to attend the wounded animal and endeavor to save his life if possible. On examination, it was found that his bowels were partly forced out through the wound; but as he would not allow any body to touch him, it was resolved to tie his feet; then passing a pole through the legs of the animal, he was lifted from the ground in a reverse position, to allow the Doctor to operate more conveniently. It was already very dark, and the group of Llaneros lifting the patient, with others holding up lighted torches made of rags and tallow, and the humorous Esculapius leaning over the struggling beast, presented a scene ludicrous in the extreme. In spite of the skill with which he performed the operation, and the humane care of the owner, the horse expired the same night.

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{366}

Three whole days were spent in the laborious occupation of forcing the cattle across the river. Nor were the nights less diligently employed at the village in the more entertaining recreation of dancing, flirting and gambling, according to the tastes and inclinations of our motley assembly. It must be confessed, however, that the latter had more incentives for the people of that pastoral region than the shepherd’s reed and crook. Occasionally a fight would occur during these nocturnal revelries; but this, beyond some hard words and brandishing of swords and daggers by moonlight, which rather added to the picturesqueness of the scene, never ended in any thing very serious.
“Caló el chapeo, requirió la espada,
Miró al soslayo, fuése y no hubo nada.”

The river was now rising so rapidly, that in order to reach our camp in the neighborhood of the village, we were obliged to place canoes across the main street leading to it, for fear of coming in contact with any of the numerous tenants of that stream. About this time the fish, conscious of the approaching inundation of the savannas, commence to ascend the river in search of those places best suited for spawning; and so great is the number of those that seek a nuptial rendezvous, that the noise they make in the water can be heard at some distance from the river. During their migration the water becomes so tainted with their flavor, that it is unfit to drink or wash in. Desirous of obtaining some live specimens for sketching, I procured a tarraya, or throw net, which I requested one of our men to launch near the bank; he{367} did so; but when he tried to lift it, he found it impossible unassisted, which made us fear that the net had got entangled among snags at the bottom of the river. A companion was called to our assistance, and between us three, we soon brought it up, when, to my astonishment and delight, I found the net full of coporos, palometas; and other delicacies; the caribes, however, soon rendered it perfectly useless, which circumstance I considered a misfortune, as I could not keep the fish long without spoiling. Next day I was advised by one of the villagers to place three or four canoes, partly filled with water, across the stream; the fish, finding their progress arrested by the obstruction, endeavored to jump over; in doing which they fell in the canoes by hundreds. The contrivance succeeded so well, that every morning I could depend on a plentiful supply, both for my sketch-book and the frying-pan. My attention was particularly attracted this time by a large fish called the valenton, from its great strength which, as I was informed, enables him to drag a canoe after him when caught with the hook and line. A distressing occurrence took place there which nearly cost the life of a young man while engaged in fishing for the valenton. The angler and a friend were engaged in conversation, with their lines thrown carelessly over the sides of the canoe, when the fish seized the bait and ran off, as he is in the habit of doing. The jerk was so violent, that the young man was unable to hold the line, and allowed it to slip through his hands; he was not aware that at the end of the line there was another hook, which buried itself in the thumb of his right{368} hand; the next moment he was violently pitched in the water and dragged for some distance, when fortunately the line broke, and he was picked up almost insensible by his companion. During its gambols in the river, the valenton jumps sometimes three feet clear out of the water, raising a large volume of spray and striking the surface with its powerful tail in its fall; so great is the splash, that the noise can be heard a great distance off, especially in the stillness of the night, when the fish seems to be more busily engaged in hunting.

The payara also delights at this time in those jumps so much dreaded by fishermen,[46] and even by people wearing any red garment about their persons; for this fish, like the caribe, is said to be attracted by that color, just as wild bulls are; so much so that it often happens that one of them springs on people thus attired in the canoes, though it always pays dearly for its temerity, as, in consequence of the peculiar structure of its jaws, the fish cannot disentangle itself from the garment, to which it remains attached until released by the hand of its intended victim, who is very glad of the chance thus unexpectedly thrown in his way, for the payara is a most delicious fish, often weighing twenty and thirty pounds, and withal very beautiful. Of this savage propensity people avail themselves to capture this fish without hook or line, on the large rivers, such as the Apure and Orinoco, where they seem to be most daring; a piece of{369} red flannel, or some other strong material, tied to the end of a long rod, being sufficient for the sport: the tempting bait is held over the side of the canoe a few inches above the surface of the water, and no sooner does the fish perceive the alluring decoy, than with one spring it seizes it and remains as firmly attached to it, as if held by an iron bolt; for in addition to its formidable row of teeth, which are long and sharp as needles, the payara has on the lower jaw two very much elongated fangs that penetrate the head through corresponding passages in it which allow the points to protrude close to the eyes of the fish, and unless it tears off the piece, as it often does to the naked and arnatto-stained Indian while paddling his canoe, the payara perishes by its own arms.

Among the many eventful incidents of la Independencia still fresh in the memory of our Leader, he relates an anecdote in connection with the Libertador, Simon Bolívar, in which both these champions of freedom participated while engaged on an important reconnoissance during the rainy season. The savannas being, as usual, overflowed for the most part, and there being no other means of transportation than the frail canoes of the country, the two chieftains were compelled to travel in one of these over their inundated domain, with the assistance of two Indian paddlers. Fish were so numerous, that numbers of them, disturbed by the strokes of the paddles against the sides of the canoe, jumped in all directions, while not a few fell amidst the distinguished passengers. The Libertador who, like almost all great men, had also his weak points, possessed a very nervous temperament,{370} especially about little things; therefore he felt quite uneasy at the unceremonious intrusion from the finny inhabitants of his swampy realms, whose movements he mistook for a mischievous propensity on their part to attack the wayfarer. On the other hand, our Leader, who was always ready to practise a good joke, seized the opportunity to occasionally tip the canoe so as to make it ship water, and more fish along with it. Whereupon his companion, who was not aware of the trick practised upon him, imagining that the fish were becoming bolder as they advanced, exclaimed in utter despair, “D——n it! Compa?ero, let us pull back, for even the fish are savage in this country.”

When the waters subside, thousands, nay, millions remain struggling in the ponds and little pools, left on the savannas, where they soon perish and rot away, tainting the air with their effluvium. Some of them, like the curito, a species of Silurus, covered with transverse plates surrounding the body, have the power of living buried in the indurated mud, from whence they are called to life again by the returning showers. As they form a most delicious mess, they are eagerly sought by men and women, who resort to these places armed with wicker baskets, and collect great numbers of the fish before they are carried away by the increasing inundation of the savannas.

A very singular belief, shared likewise, according to Sir Emerson Tennent, by the people of Ceylon, exists in the Apure respecting fish falling from the clouds. Alluding to this phenomenon, that ingenious writer observes: “Both at Galle and Colombo in the southwest monsoon, fish are popularly believed to{371} have fallen from the clouds during violent showers; but those found on the occasions that give rise to this belief, consist of smallest fry, such as could be caught up by water-spouts and vortices analogous to them, or otherwise blown on shore from the surf; whereas those which suddenly appear in the replenished tanks and in the hollows which they overflow, are mature and well-grown fish. Besides, the latter are found under the circumstances I have described, in all parts of the interior, whilst the prodigy of a supposed fall of fish from the sky has been noticed, I apprehend, only in the vicinity of the sea or of some inland water.”

Although the author further explains the phenomenon on the supposition that some fish are endowed with the power of locomotion over land, while others in a torpid state remain buried in the mud until the return of the rainy season; yet, I have been assured by reliable persons that live fish have been picked up in places where no such possible contingencies could occur; for instance, upon the roofs of houses or amidst wide plains far from running water. Most of those thus found are small, from three to seven inches long; but none of them capable of living more than twenty minutes out of water; and the father of the writer once even witnessed a fall of bocachicos, a fish which seldom lives over five minutes out of its own element.

In support of these views, which were embodied in my Wild Scenes in South America, I now have the pleasure of adding the testimony of no less an{372} authority than Gosse, who has collected a number of authentic examples of this phenomenon in his Romance of Natural History. According to his statements, fish-showers have occurred in all parts of the world, not even excepting his own country—England,—where, early in 1859, the newspapers of South Wales recorded a shower of fish in the Valley of Aberdare. The repeated statements attracted more notice than usual, and the Rev. John Griffith, the vicar of the parish, communicated the results of his inquiries to the Evening Mail.

“If now we look to other lands,” continues the author, “we shall find that the descent of fishes from the atmosphere, under conditions little understood, is a phenomenon which rests on indubitable evidence. Humboldt has published interesting details of the ejection of fish in large quantities from volcanoes in South America. On the night between the 19th and 20th of June, 1698, the summit of Carguairazo, a volcano more than 19,000 feet in height, fell in, and the surrounding country for nearly thirty-two square miles was covered with mud and fishes. A similar eruption of fish from the volcano of Imbabura was supposed to have been the cause of a putrid fever which raged in the town of Ibarra seven years before that period.”

This is accounted for on the supposition that subterraneous lakes, communicating with surface-waters, form in cavities in the declivities, or at the base of a volcano. In the course of time these internal cavities are burst open by the force of the volcanic explosions, and their contents discharged through the water.{373}

But the most extraordinary account recorded by Gosse is that of Dr. Buist, of Bombay, who, after enumerating the cases above cited, and others of similar character, goes on to say:—“In 1824 fishes fell at Meerut on the men of her Majesty’s 14th Regiment, then out at drill, and were caught in numbers. In July, 1826, live fish were seen to fall on the grass at Moradabad during a storm. They were the common Cyprinus, so prevalent in our Indian waters. On the 19th of February, 1830, at noon, a heavy fall of fish occurred at the Nokulhatty factory, in the Daccah Zillah; depositions on the subject were obtained from nine different parties. The fish were all dead; most of them were large; some were fresh; others were rotten and mutilated. They were seen at first in the sky, like a flock of birds, descending rapidly to the ground; there was rain drizzling, but no storm. On the 16th and 17th of May, 1833, a fall of fish occurred in the Zillah of Foottehpoor, about three miles north of Jumna, after a violent storm of wind and rain. The fish were from a pound and a half to three pounds in weight, and the same species as those found in the tanks in the neighborhood. They were all dead and dry. A fall of fish occurred at Allahabad during a storm in May, 1835; they were of the chowla species, and were found dead and dry after the storm had passed over the district. On the 20th of September, 1839, after a smart shower of rain, a quantity of fish, about three inches in length, and all of the same kind, fell at the Sunderbunds, about twenty miles south of Calcutta. On{374} this occasion it was remarked that the fish did not fall here and there irregularly over the ground, but in a continuous straight line, not more than a span in breadth. The vast multitudes of fish with which the low grounds around Bombay are covered, about a week or ten days after the first burst of the monsoon, appear to be derived from the adjoining pools or rivulets, and not to descend from the sky. They are not, as far as I know, found in the higher parts of the island. I have never seen them, though I have watched carefully, in casks collecting water from the roofs of buildings, or heard of them on the decks or awnings of vessels in the harbor, where they must have appeared had they descended from the sky. One of the most remarkable phenomena of this kind occurred during a tremendous deluge of rain at Kattywar, on the 25th of July, 1850, where the ground around Rajkote was found literally covered with fish; some of them were found on the top of haystacks, where probably they had been drifted by the storm. In the course of twenty-four successive hours twenty-seven inches of rain fell; thirty-five fell in twenty-six hours, seven inches in one hour and a half, being the heaviest fall on record. At Poonah, on the 3d of August, 1852, after a very heavy fall of rain, multitudes of fish were caught on the ground in the cantonments, full half a mile from the nearest stream. If showers of fish are to be explained on the assumption that they are carried up by squalls or violent winds from rivers or spaces of water not far away from where they fall, it would be nothing wonderful were they seen to{375} descend from the air during the furious squalls which occasionally occur in July.”

Sir E. Tennent, before cited, also witnessed in Ceylon another of those fish-showers:—“I had an opportunity, on one occasion only, of witnessing the phenomenon which gives rise to this popular belief. I was driving in the cinnamon gardens near the fort of Colombo, and saw a violent but partial shower descend at no great distance before me. On coming to the spot, I found a multitude of small silvery fish, from one and a half to two inches in length, leaping on the gravel of the high road, numbers of which I collected and brought away in my palanquin. The spot was about half a mile from the sea, and entirely unconnected with any water-course or pool.”[47]

The same curious fact respecting the habits of certain kinds of fish in the Llanos, which bury themselves in the mud at the close of the rainy season, also appears to take place in India and Ceylon; for, according to Gosse, “the pools, reservoirs, and tanks are well provided with fish of various species, though the water twice every year becomes perfectly evaporated, and the mud of the bottom is entirely converted into dust, or takes the condition of baked clay, gaping with wide and deep clefts, in which not the slightest sign of moisture can be detected. This is the case with temporary hollows in the soil, which have no connection with running streams or permanent waters,{376} from which they might be supposed to receive a fresh stock of fish.”

After proving conclusively that these fishes could not proceed from either the clouds, as the generality of people believe, nor from impregnated ova, as Mr. Farrell suggests, the author observes:—“Neither of these hypotheses, then, will account for the fact; and we must admit that the fishes of these regions, have the instinct to burrow down in the solid mud of the bottom, at the approach of the dry season, and the power of retaining life, doubtless in a torpid condition, until the return of the periodic rains, as Theophrastus long ago observed.”

But, who ever heard of showers of toads and frogs? Yet, such is the fact, astonished reader; and were you to visit with me some of the lagoons and ponds of South America at night, you would not fail to notice that the air, as well as the earth and waters, seems filled with the piercing, deafening noise proceeding from them. “According to travellers in tropical America, the inhabitants of Porto Bello assert that every drop of rain is changed into a toad; the most instructed, however, believe that the spawn of these animals is raised with the vapor from the adjoining swamps, and, being driven in the clouds over the city, the ova are hatched as they descend in rain. ’Tis certain that the streets after a night of heavy rain are almost covered with the ill-favored reptiles; and it is impossible to walk without crushing them. But heretic philosophers point to the mature growth of the vermin, many of them being{377} six inches in length, and maintain that the hypothesis just mentioned will scarcely account for the appearance of these.”[48]

But it is not South America alone that can boast of such an extraordinary phenomenon; for the same accomplished author records similar showers as occurring in England and various parts of the Continent: “In two or three of these cases, the toads were not only observed in countless numbers on the ground during and after heavy storms of rain, but were seen to strike upon the roofs of houses, bounding thence into the streets; they even fell upon the hats, and, in one instance, were actually received into the outstretched hand.”

It would seem that not even quadrupeds are exempt there, from the same rule, for we often hear the phrase in English, “If it should rain cats and dogs,” which I, for want of a better acquaintance with English phraseology, am at a loss how to interpret. We all know that stone-showers are not uncommon, especially ever since “the thunderer,” Jupiter, alias Jove, lost his power among us through the advancing strides of civilization. Previous to this, we are told of his paying occasional visits to his lady-loves on earth in the shape of golden showers, which have been exchanged subsequently for a less costly material; but showers of “cats and dogs” I do not believe ever occurred, even to an old sinner like him.

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