CHAPTER IV.
AN ADVENTURE WITH A BEAR—AN EXTRAORDINARY ECHO—I
AM ATTACKED WITH A FEVER, AND SUBSEQUENTLY DRIVEN FROM MY HUT.
"Give me, indulgent gods—with mind serene,
And guiltless heart—to range the sylvan scene;
No splendid poverty, no smiling care,
No well-bred hate, or servile grandeur there."
I had now become a sportsman—a Nimrod—my chief delight being found in the use of my bow and arrows. Thus armed, I ranged the forest, or laid in covert, to destroy any game which might come in my way. My propensity for killing, however, soon led me into a scrape, the escape from which nearly cost me my life; yet the lesson was thrown away on me, for it in no way abated my desire to shoot and eat the flesh of birds.
Early one morning I had taken my station behind a large tree, from which I discharged an arrow at a mocking-bird. No sooner had the arrow quitted the string, than I descried a bear, feeding on ants' nests, and that in a direct line between myself and the bird shot at. The arrow passed close by his ear; it might have struck him: be this as it may, the bear instantly began to descend the tree, showing evident signs of his intention to revenge the insult.
Not being disposed to confront such an enemy in an angry mood, I instantly took to my heels; but had not proceeded far, before the shaggy monster was near overtaking me. In this extremity I ascended a tree, confident of being as good a climber as Bruin was. I had, however, scarcely reached the lowest extending branch, before the enraged beast was close on me. Fortunately, I had in my flight retained possession of my stick; and as the bear had no means of supporting himself but by clinging to the trunk of the tree with his claws, I applied my staff with so much vigour to his feet, that he was constrained to drop to the ground, whereupon his rage was great. He then took a turn or two round the base of the tree to cool himself, gave a growl, and seated himself under it, fixing his eyes on me. In this position the disappointed monster remained, on his hind-quarters, seven hours, watching my movements; till at length, growing weary of his presence, and having read somewhere of the effect of the human voice, I cried out loudly, mentioning several names, as if calling for assistance. When speaking of the storm, I said that the thunder rolled with ten thousand voices. The cause, however, of its multiplied tones, was reserved for this adventure to make known. As I called out, I was utterly astonished to hear my own words repeated several times in succession;—the bear started on his feet; and after looking round, as if in fear of an attack, took himself off at his utmost speed.
An alarming echo
Assured that I had heard human voices, I became more agitated than when in company with the bear. It may appear anomalous; it is nevertheless true, that the prospect, or thought, of meeting with human beings in these wilds, always elicited agitation, or, more properly, terror.
The joy that hope brought of my emancipation was always mixed with an alloy of indefinable dread of some coming evil. I remained in the tree about an hour after the bear had departed, continuing to amuse myself with the exercise of the voice, and listening to the repetitions of its sounds. At length, when assured that the bear did not contemplate a renewal of the attack, I descended from the tree, and again raised my voice, and was again surprised to find that I had no response. This struck me as very mysterious; and instead of seeking for natural causes of the phenomena, I abandoned myself to superstitious fears, and persuaded myself that I was on enchanted ground, while my mind indulged in endless chimeras. Every effect is preceded by a cause, was a sentence I had often heard my father repeat; and as it recurred to my memory, I again ascended the tree, and repeated the experiments, alternately, for some time, on the ground and in the tree. The result was always the same, the voice being reverberated when in the tree, and not so when on the ground. Again and again. I turned the matter over in the mind, and could come to no other conclusion than that there were persons somewhere in the neighbourhood, who could hear me from the tree, but were too far off to hear my voice when surrounded with the underwood on the ground. I now thought it my duty to find out the persons from whom I supposed the sounds came, and was actually preparing to start in search of them, when it suddenly flashed on my mind that I had heard a similar phenomenon under a bridge near my own native village, which the boys called an echo; yet as that gave only one response, or echo, I was still perplexed to make out a cause for hearing so many. This phenomenon, however, soon became a considerable source of amusement to me, and by shifting my positions I found several series of echoes: in some places the reverberations were six and sevenfold, and in others they were so numerous as to run into indistinctness. For a considerable time subsequently it was my wont, on a Sunday, to ascend a tree after my devotions, and sing a line or two, or a verse of a psalm which I knew, when the effect was something like a number of voices in a place of worship, though the ear could not compass the innumerable combination of reverberations. When the echo was peculiarly distinct and near, and then taken up and repeated at a distance, it conveyed to my imagination the idea of aerial spirits answering each other. It was thus that the astonishing multiplied reverberations of the thunder in this region were accounted for—namely, the transmission of its sound from point to point.
The honey-bear
I saw no more of the ant-bear; but the honey-bear, which was more common, and a fellow-depredator of the bees' nests with myself, often crossed my path; and it required the exercise of much ingenuity and caution to successfully compete with him.
In all countries where the collection of honey is made a profit, various devices have been resorted to for deterring or entrapping the rugged depredators. To enumerate them all would be a digression from my narrative. The following are, however, among other successful modes of dealing with bears who have a taste for honey.
The trees in which the bees are found the inhabitants lop close to the trunk, up to the home of the bees, so that the bear has nothing but the main trunk to assist him in climbing. These trees they sometimes stick with spikes, and blades of knives, with the points upwards. These, however, offer but small impediments to the bear in ascending the tree, but as he cannot descend with his head foremost, he is compelled to slide down, when the points are not so easily avoided, generally lacerating him in such a manner as to deter him from making any future attempt to rob hives situated in trees.
The experienced bear will, however, sometimes, as he ascends the tree, break off the points, and secure himself a safe retreat. Entrapping them is, therefore, a more successful practice.
In lopping the tree the peasants are careful to leave a branch that extends out from the trunk above the hole where the bees have constructed their hive. From such a branch they suspend, with four ropes, a flat board, forming one scale of a pair, such as are commonly used in open markets; when this is hung up it hangs pendant at a distance from the trunk of the tree. When, however, it is prepared as a trap, it is brought close to the body of the tree by means of a bark rope, upon which it is fastened over the entrance of the hive.
The bear having climbed the tree, with difficulty maintains himself with his claws while he commits the depredation, and is, therefore, glad to find a seat so conveniently placed for him to sit on; but seeing the entrance of the hole nearly covered with the bark-rope, he immediately commences tearing it away, and, in so doing, liberates himself from the tree, and becomes suspended in the air. In this situation he sits contemplating the alternatives of remaining to be killed when discovered, or venturing a leap to the ground; both, however, lead to the same end, as stakes are placed to receive him on their points, should he hazard a leap.
In cold countries, it is by no means uncommon for bears to attack human beings; but in forests, within the tropics, where redundant nature pours out her horn of plenty, and food is found in abundance throughout the year, man, if he is not himself quarrelsomely disposed, may pass without molestation. Both the ant and the honey-hear occasionally visited my hut, having frequently detected them sniffing round my barricade; but when I made my appearance, either on the roof, or in returning from a ramble, they always walked away without manifesting decided hostile intentions.
The rains of Guiana
I had now passed ten months in the forest, and had learned to dispense with shoes, stockings, linen, and, indeed, with every kind of covering for the body, excepting a wrapper for the loins, which I contrived to make out of the remaining rags collected from the worn-out habiliments I possessed when lost to my family. I had also combated with a wet season, and this season was now again approaching, that is, January and February, when the rains fall heavily; indeed, rain is no proper term for a fall of water in a Guiana forest. Rain conveys the idea of water falling in drops; there, the water comes bodily upon the earth in wide sheets. And before they come, no notice is given; they send no avant courier of a few scattered drops to warn you of what is to follow; they are their own messengers. In the intervals between every such fall, the fervid sun resumes its influence, operating with such intensity as to effectually envelope all things in hot steam. A continuation of rain and excessive heat produces exuberant vegetation; and these in turn, by the exhalations of its ripeness and corruption, furnish back to the atmosphere an accumulating fund of distempering miasma, or cause of malignant fever.
When the destructive effects of these influences are considered, in a locality amongst the rankest productions of nature, and where in a thousand places the water is pent up and sluggish,—prolific producers of reptiles and noisome vapours—nothing but a miracle, through the interposition of Providence, could have preserved me in health so long. But my day of sickness was not to be altogether remitted, it was only postponed, and then inflicted in kindness, to teach me prudence, and the necessity there was for adopting proper precautions against evil results.
My hut, notwithstanding the complacency with which I had selected the site, was, after all, situated in the very worst place I could have found in the entire forest. The former rainy season had inundated the morass that lay in the rear of my dwelling, and had, indeed, threatened me with submersion; yet I continued to remain there, as if nothing of danger had occurred, and the air, impregnated with the fermentations of collected vegetation for ages, was as healthful as that on hilly lands. It is the province of experience to calculate or anticipate results; how then could one so young as I was know that too frequently the beauty which redundant nature presents to the eye, is but an indication of its treachery to the constitution.
I had not then reflected on the condition on which mortals receive life, namely, that of being associated with an inseparable companion called care; a companion which never quits their side till they resign up their souls.
In my isolated situation, it was natural I should seek to indulge the sentiment of friendship with such companions as the locality afforded. The interior of my hut was therefore a kind of aviary; and it was my practice every morning to devote a couple of hours to teaching, and in the amusement of feeding my companions; after which, I indulged, by turns, the most docile with a walk into the interior of the wooded parts of the forest. A land-tortoise had become so tame, that when, in my rambles, I sat down to rest, I allowed him to seek his own food in the immediate neighbourhood, and that without any fear of his wandering far, even if unwatched.
The rainy season had commenced about three weeks, when one morning I arose with an intense headache, excessive thirst, and a burning skin. I hastened to the stream, drank copiously of cold water, bathed for upwards of an hour, and then returned with my usual supply of water, conveyed in a clay vessel, which I had baked in the sun. This, as were similar vessels, was chiefly for the use of my family of birds, &c.
I remember perfectly well, the following morning, that, as was my custom, I caressed the whole family; and, to avoid jealous bickerings, to which some were prone, I bestowed on each an equal portion of attention; and that subsequently I took up a tortoise and a mocking-bird for my companions during a walk. I also remember, that as I reached the aperture under the roof, the rays of the sun affected my sight in a peculiar manner, and that a giddy sensation came over me; but from that moment I lost all remembrance of what followed, being unconscious of passing circumstances; until I found myself reduced in flesh, and so weak and feeble, as to be incapable of rising from the floor of the hut where I was lying. Under the opening, from whence I must have fallen, lay a dead tortoise, the shell being crushed. The sticks of which my aviary was composed were all torn asunder, and the broken fragments strewed about the place. Several of my favourite birds, with their necks wrung, were on the ground; the others were absent. The vessel in which I had brought the water was broken into pieces, and many parts of the hut exhibited proofs of an attempt having been made to pull up the stakes of which it was formed. These were all evidences that I had fallen down when attempting to leave the hut, probably from giddiness or vertigo; that a violent fever had supervened, and in that condition I had lost my reason, and the consequent command of my actions—whence the devastation around me, and the debilitated state in which I found the body when reason returned. Soon after consciousness had made me sensible of my condition, I fell asleep, in which I was carried into all kinds of illusory imaginations. Among other fantasies, I dreamed that I was on the sea—walking—yet bounded on either side with rows of myrtles in full blossom, intermixed with jessamines; and that thousands of Cupids and Fauns preceded me, strewing flowers in my way. These figures, carrying baskets, were followed by Zephyrs, which supplied the flowers. I was in a state of enchantment with the scene, yet every moment suffered from the dread of sinking into the depths of the sea, until I thought the water would no longer support me, when I awoke in the fright of being drowned.
The power of prayer
The fever had entirely left me, and I was in a measure refreshed by the sleep I had had. I was now reflecting on the phenomena of dreams, and the length of time the impressions they leave remain on the mind—for I still heard the action of the water—when, after several efforts to disengage myself from the illusion, as I thought, I was roused from imaginings to a sense of the reality of what I heard. Plash, plash, went the water against the exterior of my hut; and these sounds were continuous and audible, so much so as to be unmistakable. Still I was incapable of reaching the exterior to see what was the cause. My state of alarm and agitation may therefore be better conceived than described. Too feeble to use my limbs, I had no resource but in prayer. Most sincerely did I offer the Supreme Being thanks for having preserved me through my illness. I then prayed, that after such a miraculous dispensation of Divine goodness, I might not be left to perish in my helplessness. I believe that no one ever prayed from the heart without acquiring some additional knowledge or strength of purpose. May not this be because prayer is both an inquiry of the intellect and of the affections; the one seeking for the truth, and the other for what is good? Besides, pure devotion is thought, which improves, at least, and helps the judgment.
After some time spent in this manner, I felt the perturbation of my mind much abated, and in a frame to contemplate steadily surrounding circumstances, and consider how they might be best dealt with. A short time since, and I had looked on death as inevitable, either by drowning or starvation; now, I reflected, that if the water had been very high, it must have, ere this, penetrated my frail creation; and, if very powerful, it would have swept the whole away without giving me any notice whatever. It also occurred to me that I ought to have some dozen or two of cocoa-nuts and a store of honey within my reach, as I lay on the floor.
As I had not previously, on any occasion, made a store, I could not but see the hand of Providence directing me to prepare for my present extremity. These supplies were placed in a hole which I had made in the ground for their reception, being covered with a piece of bark, and a stone to keep it in its place. Fortunately, I had only to drag myself a few yards, and take the nourishment I so much needed; although it was not calves'-foot jelly and port wine, yet, in my then weak state, it proved a very gratifying refreshment.
It is not possible for me to make any rational estimate of the length of time I was under the influence of the fever, or of the period employed in sleeping during my recovery. It is probable that it had but a short, though a violent career; but the present exigencies were too pressing to admit of much time being expended over the past. Plash, plash, continued the water against the hut, and the floor began to exhibit signs of its entrance into the interior. My situation was now one of real peril. I made an effort to raise myself up to the opening through which I mast pass to escape, but as I had first to mount a stool formed of pieces of bark, and then to raise my body several feet with my arms, before my head could reach the aperture, I found my strength insufficient for the task. My distress was considerably augmented by the impossibility of my taking any more rest in a reclining position, as the water was rapidly covering the floor, and the probability there was of the structure giving way on a sudden, and submerging me in an instant of time. I seated myself on the before-mentioned stool, with my feet and legs stretched over a bird-coop that had not been entirely broken up.
Singular to relate, in this position I fell into a profound sleep, with my back against the lining of the hut; the extreme of distress, contemplated for a length of time, I believe has a tendency to produce this effect.
Perils of water
I had fallen asleep as the moon went down, about an hour after midnight; it was daylight when I awoke; the first object that caught my attention being the staff, on which were the notches that formed my calendar; this was floating on the water, now a foot or more in depth. It is said drowning men catch at straws; the idea immediately came across my mind that, with the support of the stick, I should be enabled to effect my escape. I succeeded; and after wading about fifty yards up to my knees in water, reached a dry spot of land, on which my first act was to kneel, and offer up prayers of gratitude for my deliverance. As a period of unconsciousness had occasioned a breach in my calendar, and the true Sabbath was lost to me, I made the day of my deliverance a Sunday, from which hereafter to reckon the days of the week.
Attenuated in frame, with weak limbs, but possessing a healthy stomach, I dragged myself to a half-natural cave, at a short distance, which I had previously cleared out as a place where I might find shelter from the heavy rains, and where I could lie in wait to kill a head of game without the fatigue of hunting for it. In this retreat I lived for two days, solely on cocoa-nuts and honey; the third, I caught an armadillo, which I dressed for dinner, and then resumed the practice of taking a dessert in the afternoon, having abundance of fruit at my command.
It is one of the miseries inseparable from the condition of man, that good and evil are presented under different forms; misery often appearing to us under the mask of happiness, and prosperity under the image of misfortune, teaching us to leave all in the hands of Him who knows best what is good for his creatures.
I had no reason to complain, having within my reach blossoms, green and ripe fruit, all on the same trees, and those in abundance throughout the year, new soil for their growth being constantly formed by the exuviæ of the forest, which here keeps her sabbath in silence. But even here, in the midst of plenty, man must not be idle. "The crab," say the negroes, "that does not leave his hole, never gets fat." As my strength returned, my wants increased; and as animal food appeared to be needed for the renovation of the frame, I was constantly engaged in the pursuit of it; while, what leisure time I possessed became irksome, from the want of a domestic establishment such as I had formed in the hut.
The first night in the cave
Although my specimen of sylvan architecture was at no time more than half submerged in water, and that without being broken up, I abandoned it as being unsafe as a residence. Finding myself not only more secure from the heavy rains, but much more cool in the cave, I now began to fortify its entrance, to guard against night intrusions. In effecting this object, the only one I kept in view while at work, I fell into the error of neglecting to provide for the admission of sufficient air to sustain life. The first night I passed in the cave, after completing my barricade of bark, which served the purpose of planks of deal, I could get no rest, turning and rolling about with an uneasiness I could in no way account for, till the morning came, when the admission of air made me sensible of breathing with more freedom, and at once explained the cause of my previous uneasiness. The next day was spent in cutting holes through the bark fence, to remedy so serious an evil as the want of air.
Accustomed as I had been to the intimate society of birds and other animals, their loss was too severely felt for me to remain long without them; I therefore commenced the construction of a new aviary on the outside of the cave, with a space beneath, to confine any of the small kind of animals which might fall into my hands. One surviving tortoise from the hut I had already brought into the cave. It was not long before the entrance to my retreat somewhat resembled the display made by a metropolitan dealer in animals, on the pavement before the steps which lead to his lodgings in the cellar. Contentment is in no station the lot of mankind. Although my new residence had many advantages, nothing could compensate me for the loss of the security in which I had every morning obtained a survey of the movements of the inhabitants of the forest from the roof of the hut. I did not, however, indulge in idle regrets, continuing to work on in constructing snares and traps, to people my new dwelling-place; and when it happened that I wounded a bird or animal, I derived a peculiar pleasure in attending to it till its recovery was effected. When I had again collected a tolerable number of friends, and formed some new attachments, a catastrophe happened which occasioned me more regrets than any circumstance which had previously befallen me in the woods.
Slaughter of the pet birds
Early in the day I had left my family all safe and well; they were of course confined, but plenty of air and light was admitted through the bars into their dwellings. I had the satisfaction of thinking they were happy, even in their captivity; they were, however, all carried off at one fell swoop, and I returned only to witness the desolation of the scene. There is a small animal of the weasel species, having the bump of destructiveness so strongly developed, that it seeks the destruction of all other animals that cannot defend themselves from its attacks; it is called the crabbodaga. One of these—or there may have been an accomplice in the murderous business—crept between the bars of the cage, and killed every bird and animal I possessed, excepting a mocking-bird I happened to have out with me.
None but those who have reared birds from the callow state and have given them a place in their affections, can appreciate my distress at this disaster. The birds had been my companions—had dined, some of them, at the same table every day, and over the dessert had amused me with their conversation, or delighted me with their music. Reflecting on this domestic tragedy, I resolved to convert the entire of the abandoned hut into one large aviary, that is, as soon as the dry season had entirely freed the place from water.
I had very little difficulty in trimming sticks, and binding them together for fences, to confine the birds; but it was not so easy to repair the loss of attached friends, who had reposed their confidence in me, or to teach strangers an agreeable method of conversation upon a given signal. I could now no longer give dinner-parties at home; I therefore intruded on the entertainments given by others, for I did not enjoy my meals alone. I did not often take a meal with gregarious birds—those who moved in flocks,—yet many of these were excellent companions in private; in a body they were generally too noisy and fickle in flight to be depended on, except in the morning or evening.
The birds usually called social, were my favourites; these are such as live in pairs, but assemble in parties at certain hours of the day to dine on the same tree, sing in concert for an hour, and then part as they came, each attended by its mate. At many of these entertainments I was permitted to remain, without causing any surprise or confusion; but then I behaved with proper decorum, and above all, did not forget the manners and habits of those I visited.
Observing the monkeys to be very fond of the seeds that grew on a tree called the vanilla, the Spanish name for scabbard, which the seeds of the plant resemble, I one day presumed to join one of their parties at meal time, and climbed a tree for that purpose, but was received so very uncourteously, that I gave them up as incorrigible boors. That they have no soul for music I have had frequent proofs while listening to the song of the thrush in the breeding season; a period when these birds select an elevated spot, generally the same every day, and pour forth strains of peculiar melody. These songs the monkeys not only disregard, but continually interrupt with their monotonous howls.
Habits of birds
The habits of birds are very peculiar, and distinctively marked; the thrush sings to its mate, delighted with the prospect of rearing up a new progeny; the nightingale, on the contrary, only ceases to sing when his mate arrives to join him; being migrating birds, the male precedes the female in making its passage from one country to another, and pours forth his notes only while waiting for the arrival of the female.
If this bird is caught and caged before he is joined by his mate, he will continue to sing in confinement, if afterwards, he will be mute. Nothing is more remarkable in birds, or has perhaps been less noticed, than their affection for each other, and for callow birds in general. The cries from any one nest of birds will set all the old ones within hearing into a state of extreme agitation, all flying up and down anxious to inquire what is the matter, and what assistance they can offer. He who walks through the woods, and can imitate the cries of young birds, may at all times be certain of collecting old ones around him, that is, in the breeding season.
The cry of young birds in the nest is in the forest what the cry of fire or murder is in a city; it alarms all the neighbourhood; and the knowledge of an enemy to their young being in the vicinity of their homes, is to them much the same as going to bed next door to an incendiary.
I have seen a blue jay—a very noisy and chattering bird—discover an owl sitting in his hiding-place, and immediately summon a flock of his feathered fraternity to his assistance. These surrounded the winking solitaire, and opened a fire of abuse on him that might at a distance be mistaken for a general disturbance in Billingsgate Market. The owl opened and then shut his eyes, as if at first unconscious of the meaning of the attack, and asking, "Can it be me you mean?" He, however, was soon made sensible that he would not be suffered to remain within their jurisdiction; and off he went, followed by a mob of birds, who hunted him out of the bounds of their district. Clamorous as the jay is against the owl for eating young birds, he himself I have detected in tearing the callow young out of the eggs belonging to other birds; yet he never fails to unite with the other feathered inhabitants of the wood at the cry of danger.
The tender assiduities of birds in their attachments is no less remarkable than their courage in defence of their mates and young ones. The male, solicitous to please, uses the tenderest expressions, as evinced by his manner; sits by his mate as closely as he can; caresses her with a thousand endearing movements of the body and head: sings to her his most enchanting warblings; and, as they are seated together, if he espies an insect more agreeable to her taste than another, he takes it up, flies to her with it, spreads his wings over her, and genteelly puts it into her mouth. And if a rival or an enemy appear, his courage in attack soon proves the ardour of his love.
The mocking-bird and snake
During incubation, the female is no less the object of his solicitude; as birds have many enemies, the males feel that it is their duty to watch over and protect their mates and young ones. I had every waking hour opportunities of witnessing their courage, frequently seeing very small birds attack the black snake, darting at its head, and pecking the eyes till they either killed or drove away that enemy to their brood. When these contests became doubtful, the females would leave their nests, and hasten to the scene of action to render their mates assistance.
The mocking-bird seldom fails to kill the snake single-handed, instantly afterwards mounting the bush, to pour forth a torrent of song in token of victory. These birds mount and descend as their song swells or dies away; at times darting up with the celerity of an arrow, as if to recover or recall the last strain of expiring melody. While the mocking-bird thus exerts himself, a bystander, destitute of sight, would suppose that the whole of the feathered tribes had assembled to vie with each other in singing and in deceiving the sportsman, by imitating the birds of which he was in pursuit. Their talent at imitation is so extraordinary, that they can call the mates of almost every other bird around them at pleasure.
The fascinating power ascribed to the black snake is an error. When a snake is discovered in the vicinity of a nest, the male bird mounts a spray, and in great agitation flutters his wings in a threatening manner, till an opportunity offers of flying down to the attack. In these encounters the snake sometimes succeeds in biting the bird, and in injecting its venom, when the effect of the poison is so sudden, as to paralyse the further efforts of the latter; hence has arisen the supposed power of fascination, and the story of birds flying into the snake's jaws. Instances of this nature I have witnessed, and if I had not followed up my observations further, might have fallen into the popular error of supposed fascination: but my experience informs me, that when the bird is said to be spellbound, it is preparing to destroy an enemy, in which encounter it generally comes off victorious.
Birds, as a class, possess as much intelligence, and more courage than any of God's creatures lower in the scale of animals than man. The instincts, or the propensities and precautions of animals, as in birds developed, are as multifarious and as striking, if not more so, as in other animals, not excepting the elephant and dog.
A thrush that I caught in a trap used to catch wasps, and after plucking the wings off to prevent their escape, pressed the abdomen with his bill, to force out the poison of the sting before he swallowed it. I have frequently seen birds seize mice and reptiles, and after examination reject them. In all such cases I have found that the prey thus cast aside was sickly, or infested with lice. The birds seem to reason thus: "If I take this sickly thing to my nest, I shall not only carry my young ones unwholesome food, but shall carry a nuisance to them, also." Another bird I had in my aviary, would carry food that was too hard for his taste to his water, and there let it remain till it was soaked to his palate.
Departure from the cave
Looking over my notched calendar, and transferring it in weeks and months to another stick I was suddenly struck with the length of time I had been shut out of society, and how wonderfully the Almighty had preserved me. It then occurred to me that I had not exerted myself as I ought to have done, to free myself from the intricate mazes of the forest. Then, reflecting on the regular inundations of the morass, I thought it was probable that the waters might come from a river, or the sea; and as they had just then retired, I determined to start off immediately, and pursue the margin to its source. Hitherto, security at night had induced me to linger about favourite spots; I had now surmounted childish fears; still I was sensible of the great risk I should run of sleeping, night after night, in the open air; and this reflection for a time deterred me from carrying out my plan. At length I thought of the gipsies I had seen in the green lanes in England, and then set to work to manufacture a substitute for the covers they use to throw over the hooped sticks at night, with which they were wont to form low booths. This I effected by platting and weaving long dried grass, and when it was completed, I cut some poles of the lacaria; but still doubting my own resolution to break up my establishment, I one day, with a kind of spasmodic effort, liberated all my newly-collected domestic friends and companions, some of which accepted of freedom rather reluctantly. My attachments being thus dissolved, the following morning I commenced my lonely journey, on the second day of which I made a fire near to some shallow water, and was broiling a jay I had killed for my supper, when the earth on which I sat began to move, and instantly afterwards the embers were scattered about. Starting to my feet with alarm, a crocodile about four feet long showed itself as it plunged a few yards further off into a pool of mud and water. The place on which I had lighted my fire, was a part of the swamp, crusted over, probably, by the heat of that day's sun only. Every hour, indeed, now brought me in contact with enemies, and exposed me to privations I had avoided by making a home in one spot. But then I had an object to attain, and I persevered for twenty days, at the end of which I had the mortification to find that I had, like many others in the world, progressed not a step, having travelled in a circle, which brought me to the very threshold of my recent home. My chagrin was so poignant, that I thought the very trees waved in derision at my folly; and the same day I set out in another direction, which proved to be directly south.
Every step I took informed me that I was a trespasser; the scene that I had quitted appeared to have been ceded to me by the inhabitants of the forest, who were willing for me to occupy it without molesting me, or exhibiting any signs of alarm; but, as I moved from place to place, all seemed in arms against me. My insatiable curiosity, too, was everywhere offensive; nothing escaped my prying propensity, and I even regretted that I had suffered the crocodile to escape that I might have intercepted, had I been cool, and have driven to the land for examination; I often, indeed, pushed my inquiries beyond the line of prudence.
An unpleasant nocturnal visitor
One moonlight night I was favoured with a splendid view of the jaguar under the influence of a hungry stomach, and in that state I saw him seize his prey. I had spread my matting at the lower end of a tree that had been torn up by the roots, between which I could creep and hide myself; at the other end the branches extended into a small glade or open space; when about midnight I was awaked by a tremendous roar. Alarmed for my own safety. I crept between the roots of the tree, pulling the covering after me, and in this situation raised my head so as to look along the shaft of the fallen timber, about ten yards from the end of which I could distinctly discern the jaguar, pacing up and down, in a space of not more than thirty yards. His step was quick and hurried, but so light that he appeared not to touch the ground; his swollen and stiffened tail swept the ground, as it moved from side to side. I instantly became anxious to ascertain whether his eyes were directed towards any particular object, and more especially in the direction where I was hid. I had the satisfaction of seeing their fierce glance furtively cast in every direction but towards me; indeed, I must have been invisible to him through the broken branches and roots, at the distance he was from the tree, and amid the shade that surrounded me.
The spot he had chosen for his nocturnal promenade was, I have no doubt, a deer track, on which he had before in all probability snatched many meals. His impatience evidently increased as his expectations were delayed; he quickened, if possible, his step at every turn, till at length he suddenly paused, and assumed a most exciting attitude. His tail for a moment stood out perfectly horizontal, in a line with his back; making gentle sweeps, as if of immediate expectation. Suddenly he crouched on his belly, still moving his tail very gently; at length the moment arrived: he gave one roar of horrid delight, and the next, a deer was in his jaws, and growling, he seized and dispatched it by twisting the head downwards with his paw. Finally he gave the deer a shake, as if to assure himself that life was extinct, and then, with a fling of the head threw the dead animal across his back, and was lost in the thicket, depriving me of the satisfaction of witnessing his manner of finishing the repast.
Strong in my resolution to arrive if possible at the extremity of the forest, I continued to proceed, as I thought, in the same direction; but I could not travel every day, being compelled sometimes to watch through the night, and being frequently unable, while moving forward, to obtain a sufficiency of nutritious food. When, therefore, I met with a convenient retreat, I stayed and refreshed myself till I acquired strength to undertake new labours.
Some scenes would irresistibly detain me, and if any one express surprise that they should do so when journeying to seek the society of my fellow-creatures, I reply that I did not at any time abandon the hope of success; yet when the uncertainty of my course, without a compass or guide, is considered, I never had a right to be very sanguine in my expectations, use whatever efforts I might. In a journey of such a doubtful nature, oftentimes worn down with fatigue of body and despair of mind, it was natural to linger on and to rest in an oasis longer than in a desert.
In a hot climate, cool retreats have peculiar charms, such as are unappreciable by those who live in cold countries. The mere topographical traveller may measure a lake, or a river, give the height and angle of a projecting rock, describe the rush of falling waters into an estuary, and trace the course of rivers from their rise to their mouth, but he is unable to give the living tints of nature, together with all their form and colour.
Beauties of the forest
Neither the pen nor the pencil can describe the feelings of those who sympathize with nature in her secret homes of grandeur.
When I first entered the forest, the effect of the sublimity of the scene was astonishment, in which the beauties were lost; but as surprise wore off, these beauties, one by one, stood out to view; and operating on the senses, produced pleasure in its highest state of enjoyment.
In scenes where bignonias, passifloras, and a thousand other flowers presented an unceasing display throughout the year, surrounded with birds and insects of surpassing beauty, who, possessed of sympathy of soul, or an ear for the sweet sounds of nature, would not for a time forget mortality and live in imaginary eternal bliss; for the charm of such scenes is only dispelled by awakening to the wants and necessities of the corporeal man.
My existence was of such a nature,—one of alternate enjoyment in communing with lonely and enchanting scenes, and of fears lest I should fall a sacrifice to the dangers that environed my everyday movements. Sometimes I sallied forth to face dangers, and again paused to breathe, and, for a time, escape them.
At length I reached a new scene, consisting of sand-hills, out of which issued springs of water, uniting at a short distance, where they formed a stream, which appeared to wind over an open country. In comparison with my solitude in the woods, this was a cheering change; and recollecting the geographical axiom in my school-books, that all springs and rivers ultimately find their way into the sea, I rejoiced at the chance I had of being extricated from the labyrinth in which I had been so long bewildered.
Following the stream
It is the fate of mortals to see the birth of pleasure only to witness her destruction. Her commencement is always very nearly connected with her end. The instant that gives her birth is generally the same in which she expires. I had not proceeded far before the waters spread themselves over the land, and were lost to the sight. In one or two places their course terminated as if they were cut off with a knife, one edge being visible and the other in obscurity, exhibiting the phenomenon of rivers which suddenly take a subterraneous course, to rise again at another point, leaving the space between perfectly dry. Being now in an open country, I ascertained that the course I had travelled was directly southward, or towards that part of the horizon which was cut by the sun's culminating, or meridian line; and this course I continued to pursue. A day and a half again brought me to the stream, for, as yet, it was not entitled to be called a river. It now, however, took a direction leading into the wood, among the foliage of which it was lost to the eye. The emancipation from the forest had given me the greatest possible delight, I therefore could not but hesitate before I again entered it; yet it was my only certain source of subsistence in the open country. I suffered both from hunger and thirst. I had, therefore, no alternative but to follow the stream; and on I went, its course winding so much that I began to fear I was traversing another circle. At length, after giving me much wearisome toil, it was lost in an impenetrable thicket of wood. I was now constrained to make a very considerable and extended détour, in the hope of again reaching its banks at some merging point. Three days I journeyed round an impervious mass of wood, so closely matted that I could at no point obtain an entrance. At the end of that time, I suddenly lighted upon the spot where I supposed the waters met in one broad reservoir. Various tributary streams flowed into this spot, and continued their meandering course for many miles. I hailed the sight of it with considerable delight, as I had begun to be fearful that I was about to lose sight of its course altogether.