CHAPTER XXIX.

CALABOZO.

While quietly absorbed one day in the pleasures of the angler by the banks of a creek not far from the camp, I was startled in my peaceful occupation by the report of fire-arms in that direction. There were rumors concerning the depredations of a band of robbers in that neighborhood, and therefore I had every reason to suppose they had been bold enough to attack our little band of resolute men with a view to plundering the camp. To pack up lines and portfolio was the work of an instant, and hurrying toward the camp, I arrived breathless and panting with fatigue in time to get the last glimpses of the cause of this uproar in the shape of a lancha gliding quickly down the river. It seems that the boatmen, delighted with the presence of the beloved Chieftain of the Llanos, immediately recurred to the usual way of expressing their enthusiasm, whether in peace or war, through the means of the all-potent gunpowder. In the afternoon of the same day a detachment of horse, composed for the most part of citizens from Calabozo,{461} arrived at the pass to invite the general to their city, and to offer him protection, in case of need, from the band of desperadoes above mentioned; these had already been bold enough to attack the prison guard of Calabozo, with the object of carrying off one of its inmates, a prominent citizen of the place who had been implicated in the robbery of a large drove of mules. Although it was currently reported that his two sons were the perpetrators of this unworthy act, yet, the fact that the animals were found on his estate, and his stout refusal to implicate his sons, made him responsible for the robbery; he was therefore incarcerated and his trial had commenced when his sons, adding sedition to theft, attacked the prison during the night with a band of peons from their own and other cattle estates. The result was most disastrous to the assailants; one of the sons having been badly wounded in the strife was taken prisoner and shot in the public square; while the other forfeited his life soon after during the vigorous persecution undertaken by the citizens against his band. Yet, this handful of men, badly armed and without leaders, but with a wide field of forest and savannas for retreat, and plenty of cattle for subsistence, continued for a long time to engage the serious attention of the government; and finally, when the following revolution broke out, they formed the nucleus around which the rebel party mustered very strong. In this manner many depredators not only evade the punishment of justice for their crimes, but eventually rise in importance, and even become leading spirits in the land where the laws are powerless in repressing their excesses.{462}

With this encouraging prospect before us, we bade adieu to the gay brunettes of La Portuguesa and took the straightest route to Calabozo, across the great estero or swamp of Camaguan. An entire day was spent in wading through this refreshing transit route, which, owing to the increasing rise of the river, had already acquired the aspect of a broad lake. Our horses were most of the time immersed in the water up to the saddle girths, and few of them escaped total submersion, wherever there were any depressions of the ground. Many of the baggage mules especially, having no rider to guide them, lost their footing and rolled in the water, to the great discomfort of those who had any articles of apparel in their loads. Toward the afternoon we emerged from this dismal swamp and made a landing at a place called Banco Largo, celebrated in the annals of the horse epidemic as the cattle estate upon which the wrath of Heaven fell after the blasphemous boasting of its owner.

We were beginning to appreciate the comfort of riding again upon firm ground, when we observed a group of horsemen emerging from the palmar on our right, galloping in the direction of our scouts, as if threatening to cut them off. Fearing lest they might be the band of robbers whom we had every reason to suspect of evil intentions, we put spurs to our horses in hot chase of them. Mistaking us in turn for those gentry, the strangers pushed on ahead of us to evade our pursuit. Our scouts observing their retreat cut off by a larger force, were not slow in their endeavors to reach the farm-house, where they could defend themselves against the supposed robbers until we{463} could come up to their assistance. The suspected party being mounted on fresh horses, we found it difficult, however, to overtake them. Fortunately one of their horses stumbled accidentally in a hole, throwing down the rider, which circumstance placed him in our hands; from him we ascertained that they were not salteadores, but vaqueros from a neighboring cattle farm, whom the annoyances of the mosquilla had compelled to ride through the palmar at robber’s speed. His companions observing that we permitted him to depart in peace, now slackened their pace, and had their fears dispelled before they could carry the alarm to other places that the salteadores were close at hand.

At Venegas, a cattle State not far from Calabozo, we parted company with our herds, abandoning their care and guidance to the efficient caporals, while we proceeded direct to the Palmyra of the Llanos, always escorted by the citizen-guard who had come so far to meet us. Another deputation from the city, composed of the most prominent persons in the place, met us at the pass of the Guárico, and after a few congratulatory compliments, we rode on without stopping until we reached the village of the Mision de Abajo. Here we remained long enough to change our wet garments and partake of a collation prepared at the summer residence of an old soldier of Independence. This village is famous on account of several crystalline springs issuing from deep gullies made by the water on a hard conglomerate composed of sand, pebbles, and nodules of beautiful agates; the whole cemented together by a calcareous substance, consisting probably{464} of minute shells of infusoria.[69] Some of the pools measure several fathoms in depth; yet the water is so transparent, that the smallest pebble can be clearly discerned at the bottom; I also noticed many small fish. These sparkling natural fountains were shaded by groves of balsamiferous plants, such as copaiferas, amyris, and carob-trees, the dark foliage of which was relieved by a carpet of green grass extending for miles around, the whole presenting an appearance of a well-cultivated and beautifully laid out English park. Thither resort, during the sultry months of summer, the inhabitants of Calabozo, who now came out in vast numbers to welcome us to their beautiful city.

The procession was formed on the extensive natural lawn, three miles in length, between the village and the city, which rose in the distance amidst the towering foliage of the fan-palms surrounding it in oriental magnificence. As we entered the narrow, but cleanly streets, the firing of muskets, pistols, and blunderbusses commenced amidst the vivas of the population, while a shower of roses fell on the favored head of the “Lion of the Llanos,”[70] as he passed under the windows of the houses.

The city of Calabozo, capital of the province of El Guárico, is situated upon the northern extremity of the mesa or plateau of the same name, commanding{465} an extensive view of the picturesque country watered by the beautiful river which gives its name to the province. Unlike all the other towns of the Llanos, Calabozo is an extremely well-built city, with streets running at right angles. The houses are neat and commodious, ranking with the best in the capital of the republic. It contains a number of fine churches, one of which was built at the expense of a wealthy cattle proprietor of the place; it is one of the finest temples in the country.

Words cannot do justice to the enthusiastic reception and boundless hospitality extended to us on this occasion by the generous inhabitants. In addition to the regular entertainments, such as breakfast and dinner-parties, balls, and fandangos provided daily in their city residences, we were occasionally treated to a fête champêtre, á la llanera, in their quintas or country-houses. Most of these are situated on the banks of the beautiful Guárico, on the slopes of the plateau upon which the city is built; and there, amidst the most luxuriant groves of orange, lemon, and other tropical fruits, the abundant fare was served to us in true Llanero style. In the mean time the trovatori of the Llanos did not fail to enliven the scene with their never-ending trovas llaneras, in which especial mention was made of the most prominent persons to whom we were indebted for this munificent hospitality; but more particularly to the past deeds of the personage who prompted it. The broad fan-shaped leaves of the moriche-palm. (Mauritia flexuosa)—the celebrated Tree of Life of the Warraoun Indians—supplied the most appropriate table-cloths on these{466} occasions, spread in the vicinity of some murmuring spring, issuing in most cases from the foot of the palm-trees. The natives believe that this plant possesses the power of pumping water from the ground by means of its matted roots: they evidently confound cause and effect in this, as well as in many other cases; for this luxuriant palm will not thrive except in moist ground. The slopes of the mesa acting as a vast drain to the plain above, offer this desideratum to the moriche-palm. Some of the springs are of a thermal character, but not too warm to prevent persons enjoying a most refreshing bath. I noticed, in one instance, two springs running side by side, one of which was cold and the other warm. The tide-flooded lands on the Lower Orinoco and Amazon rivers seem to be particularly adapted to the development of this noble[71] species of palm. “In those places,” says Wallace,[72] “there is no underwood to break the view among interminable ranges of huge columnar trunks, rising unbroken by branch or leaf to the height of eighty or a hundred feet, a vast natural temple, which does not yield in grandeur and sublimity to those of Palmyra or Athens.”

A full-grown leaf of this tree is quite a load for one man to carry. The petiole, or leaf-stock, is a solid beam ten or twelve feet long, while the leaf or fan itself measures nine or ten across. The fruit, in bunches of three hundred and upward, perfectly resembles the cones of the white pine. When arrived at{467} its maturity, it is yellow within and scarlet without, covered with scales.

The benefits of this life-supporting tree may be reckoned as numerous as the number of days in the year. From the unopened leaves the wild man of the forest obtains a fibre remarkable for its toughness, and which he twists into cordage for his bow-string and fishing tackle, or weaves it into elegant hammocks and aprons for himself and family; he also plats them neatly into mats and cloaks, and even sails for his canoe; when fully expanded, these leaves form the best thatch for his hut. From the terminal bud or inner layer of leaves, commonly styled the cabbage of the palm, the Indian procures a vegetable quite analogous to, and more tender and delicious than a similar production of the garden. The fruit in like manner affords a variety of alimentary substances, according to the season in which it is gathered, whether its saccharine pulp is fully mature, or whether it is in a green state. Like the plantain and the celebrated peach-palm of the Rio Negro, it is either eaten raw, when fully ripe, or roasted—in the latter case tasting very much like chestnuts. Soaked in water and allowed to ferment, it forms a pleasant drink somewhat resembling pulque. The ripe fruit also yields by boiling in water, an oil which is readily converted into soap by means of the ashes of a Clusia, (quiripití.) “The spathe, too—a fibrous bag which envelops the fruit before maturity—is much valued by the Indian, furnishing him with an excellent and durable cloth. Taken off entire, it forms bags in which he keeps the red paint for his toilet, or the silk cotton for his arrows,{468} or he even stretches out the larger ones to make himself a cap, cunningly woven by nature without a seam or joining. When cut open longitudinally and pressed flat, it is used to preserve his delicate feather ornaments and gala dresses, which are kept in a chest of plaited palm-leaves between layers of smooth bussú cloth.”[73] The trunk of the male tree contains a farinaceous meal, yuruma, resembling sago, and like the fecula of the tapioca-root, it is readily converted into bread by simply drying it on hot earthen plates. Allowed to rot in the stem, this meal gives birth to numerous fat worms, highly esteemed by Indian gourmands. Tapped near the base of the leaves, the trunk yields also an abundance of a sweet liquor, which, when fermented, forms one of the various kinds of palm-wines. Such are in substance some of the most useful products of this veritable tree of life, with which the existence of a rude people is as intimately connected, as that of civilized man is with the luxuries and comforts that surround his home. “When the Tamanacks,” says Humboldt, “are asked how the human race survived the great deluge, the ‘age of water’ of the Mexicans, they say: ‘a man and a woman saved themselves on a high mountain, called Tamanacu, situated on the banks of the Asiberu, and casting the fruit of the moriche-palm, they saw the seeds contained in these fruits produce men and women who repeopled the earth.’ Thus we find in all its simplicity, among nations now in a savage state, a tradition which the Greeks embellished with all the charms of imagination.”{469}

To protect themselves from the attacks of mosquitoes and wild beasts, the tribes roaming over the great delta of the Orinoco, are in the habit of raising between the huge trunks of the palm-trees hanging platforms skilfully interwoven with the foliage, which allow them to live in the trees like monkeys. The floor of these a?rial habitations is covered with a coating of mud, on which the fires for household purposes are made. Thus when the first explorers of the Orinoco River penetrated for the first time into that exuberant terra incognita, they were surprised to observe, among the tops of the palm-trees, flames issuing at night as if suspended in the air. “The Guaranis still owe the preservation of their physical, and perhaps their moral independence, to the half-submerged, marshy soil over which they roam with a light and rapid step, and to their elevated dwellings in the trees, a habitation never likely to be chosen from motives of religious enthusiasm by an American Stylites.”[74]

I also met for the first time at Calabozo with the most splendid rose-bush, or rather tree, I had ever seen, and which appears to be indigenous to that hot region, as I am told that the same grows in great luxuriance at San Fernando and Ciudad Bolívar, but was unknown to the rest of the country previous to our visit to the Llanos. Being passionately fond of flowers myself, I did not neglect to bring along with me this beautiful new variety to our home in the Valleys of Aragua, where it soon displayed its countless{470} blossoms to the admiring gaze of the passers by. From thence it was also carried by me to Caracas, where it soon became the general favorite of the fair dames of the Capital, who by unanimous accord named it, not as might be supposed after the introducer, but after his father, with which the former was equally well satisfied; and certainly no more beautiful compliment could have been paid their favorite champion, than by associating his name with the acknowledged Queen of Beauty among flowers. The size attained by this plant surpasses any thing of the kind with which I am acquainted. When favored by a dry and hot climate like that of Calabozo, its shoots attain a height of fifteen to twenty feet with a corresponding thickness; so that a hammock with its usual load can be supported between two trees; and as these put out a great number of branches, each of them loaded with flowers or buds ready to expand, they present a sight truly splendid. A hundred blossoms may be plucked each morning of the year without marring its luxuriant beauty. I have myself counted over one thousand buds on a single plant. These flowers are of a delicate pink color, with very regular petals of a deciduous nature; so that in detaching themselves from the calix, they cover the ground upon which the parent grows, with a rosy carpet.
“Sin flores y sin hermosas
Qué fuera de los mortales?
Bien habeis nacido, rosas,
Sobre el lodo de los males.”
—Arolas.

{471}

TRANSLATION.
“Without beauty, without flowers,
What would be this world of ours?
Well, that e’en in misery dire
Find we roses ’mid the mire.”

The truth of the above sentiment we soon realized; from this time a succession of misfortunes, commencing with a violent attack of fever which nearly carried us all to the grave, and ending with the destruction of our property and peaceful homes, followed one another without intermission.

The fever was doubtless induced by our previous exposure on the journey and subsequent dissipations at Calabozo, although the city itself is one of the healthiest spots in the republic. Unfortunately, our physician, who was blessed with a very jealous wife, had been summoned home by his better half on hearing of our approach to the fairy metropolis of the Llanos. However, there were two or three medical gentlemen in the place, and these, with the unremitting kindness and assistance of the ladies, managed to keep us alive until a skilful physician, who had been sent for, arrived from the Valleys of Aragua. The critical condition of our respected Leader and sire particularly gave them serious fears, as the fever in his case had commenced to assume a malignant character. Courier after courier was despatched across the miry plains to hasten the arrival of the doctor, while the generous inhabitants vied with each other in the anxious cares with which they surrounded the sick-bed of their beloved guest. Years have rolled on, and many changes have since taken place, both{472} in the affairs of the nation and in the fortunes of the subject of these remarks; yet, their love for the “Martyr of San Antonio,”[75] far from diminishing, seems to have increased during his protracted exile; for, as late as 1861, after the overthrow of Monagas, a petition addressed to Pres. Tovar asking his recall, and signed by all the inhabitants of Calabozo, has come to hand, protesting in the strongest terms against the impolicy and injustice of leaving him still in exile when the nation most needs his counsel and influence. Justly deprecating the horrors of civil war and the want of unity which have existed in the republic since the downfall of the Monagas party, the petitioners conclude with this feeling outburst of patriotic solicitude for the absence of their favorite champion: “From the far-off shores of the Arauca, to the sources of our own Guárico, our anxious horsemen watch incessantly the far horizon, inquire from the passing breezes of the destinies of the Hero, who has condemned himself to voluntary exile, and then exclaim with a sigh: ‘Were he again to lead us on to battle, Victory would be forthcoming, strengthened by Peace, and blessed by the vanquished.’{473} ”
CONCLUSION.

Here, courteous reader, end our rough journeys across the Llanos, and our real troubles commence; for having been involved—contrary to my own inclination, it must be owned—in the political strifes so prevalent in Spanish America, I have been compelled to wander ever since, from land to land, like the mysterious Jew of the French novelist, Eugene Sue, with neither settled home nor abiding place of rest. What I saw and learned worth relating during my peregrinations, hither and thither, will make the subject of the Second Series of these sketches, which, if your patience is not exhausted or my repertoire does not give out, I trust to lay before you at no distant day. In the meantime you must excuse any imperfections in the style and composition of this book, considering that I write in a language which is not my own, and which often perplexes even those who have more claims to it than myself, so many are its grammatical irregularities.

The End