Berlin, 1849.
NOTE BY THE TRANSLATOR.
In the translation the temperatures are given in degrees of Fahrenheit, retaining at the same time the original figures in Reaumur’s scale. In the same manner the measures are given in English feet, generally retaining at the same time the original statements in Parisian or French feet or toises, a desirable precaution where accuracy is important. The miles are given in geographical miles, 60 to a degree, but in this case the original figures have usually been omitted, the conversion being so simple as to render the introduction of error very improbable. In a very few instances “English miles” appear without any farther epithet or explanation; these have been taken by the author from English sources, and may probably signify statute miles. The longitudes from Greenwich are substituted for those from Paris, retaining in addition the original statement in particular cases.
CONTENTS.
| PAGE | |
| Author’s Preface to the First Edition | [vii] |
| Author’s Preface to the Second and Third Editions | [xi] |
| Note by the Translator | [xvii] |
| Steppes and Deserts | [1] |
| Annotations and Additions | [27] |
| Cataracts of the Orinoco | [207] |
| Annotations and Additions | [233] |
| Nocturnal Life of Animals in the Primeval Forest | [257] |
| Annotations and Additions | [273] |
| Hypsometric Addenda | [277] |
⁂ For General Summary of the Contents of the First Volume, see page [289].
ASPECTS OF NATURE
IN
DIFFERENT LANDS AND DIFFERENT CLIMATES.
STEPPES AND DESERTS.
A widely extended and apparently interminable plain stretches from the southern base of the lofty granitic crest, which, in the youth of our planet, when the Caribbean gulf was formed, braved the invasion of the waters. On quitting the mountain valleys of Caraccas, and the island-studded lake of Tacarigua[1] whose surface reflects the stems of plantains and bananas, and on leaving behind him meads adorned with the bright and tender green of the Tahitian sugar cane or the darker verdure of the Cacao groves, the traveller, looking southward, sees unroll before him Steppes receding until they vanish in the far horizon.
Fresh from the richest luxuriance of organic life, he treads at once the desolate margin of a treeless desert. Neither hill nor cliff rises, like an island in the ocean, to break the uniformity of the boundless plain; only here and there broken strata of limestone, several hundred square miles in extent, appear sensibly higher than the adjoining parts. “Banks”[2] is the name given to them by the natives; as if language instinctively recalled the more ancient condition of the globe, when those elevations were shoals, and the Steppes themselves were the bottom of a great Mediterranean sea.