Two varieties of sugar-cane are cultivated near the lake, in the valleys of Aragua: the common sugar-cane of the West Indies, Caña criolla; and the cane recently introduced from the Pacific, Caña de Otaheiti. The verdure of the Tahitian cane is of a much lighter and more agreeable tint, and a field of it can readily be distinguished at a great distance from a field of the common cane. The sugar-cane of Tahiti was first described by Cook and George Forster, who appear, however, from the excellent memoir of the latter upon the edible plants of the islands of the Pacific, to have been but little acquainted with its valuable qualities. Bougainville brought it to the Isle of France, from whence it was conveyed to Cayenne, and since 1792 it has been taken to Martinique, Hayti, and several of the smaller West Indian Islands. It was carried with the bread-fruit tree to Jamaica by the brave but unfortunate Captain Bligh, and was introduced from the Island of Trinidad to the neighbouring coast of Caraccas, where it became a more important acquisition than the bread-fruit, which is never likely to supersede a plant so valuable and affording so large an amount of sustenance as the plantain. The Tahitian sugar-cane is much richer in juice than the common cane, said to be originally a native of the east of Asia. On an equal surface of ground it yields a third more sugar than the caña criolla, which has a thinner stalk and smaller joints. As, moreover, the West India islands begin to suffer great want of fuel, (in Cuba the wood of the orange tree is used for sugar boiling,) the thicker and more woody stalk of the Tahitian cane is an important advantage. If the introduction of this plant had not taken place almost at the same time as the commencement of the bloody negro war in St. Domingo, the prices of sugar in Europe would have risen still higher than they did, in consequence of the ruinous effects of those troubles on agriculture and trade. It was an important question, whether the cane of the Pacific, when removed from its native soil, would gradually degenerate and become the same as the common cane. Experience hitherto has decided against any such degeneration. In Cuba a caballeria (nearly 33 English acres) planted with Tahitian sugar-cane produces 870 hundred weight of sugar. It is singular that this important production of the islands of the Pacific is only cultivated in those parts of the Spanish colonies which are farthest from the Pacific. The Peruvian coast is only twenty-five days’ sail from Tahiti, and yet, at the period of my travels in Peru and Chili, the Tahitian cane was unknown there. The inhabitants of Easter Island, who suffer much from deficiency of fresh water, drink the juice of the sugar-cane, and (a very remarkable physiological fact) also sea water. In the Society, Friendly, and Sandwich Islands, the light green, thick-stalked sugar-cane is always the one cultivated.
Besides the Caña de Otaheiti and the Caña Criolla, a reddish African variety, called Caña de Guinea, is cultivated in the West Indies: its juice is less in quantity than that of the common Asiatic cane, but is said to be better suited for making rum.
In the province of Caraccas the dark shade of the cacao plantations contrasts beautifully with the light green of the Tahitian sugar cane. Few tropical trees have such thick foliage as the Theobroma cacao. It loves hot and humid valleys: great fertility of soil and insalubrity of atmosphere are inseparable from each other in South America as well as in Asia; and it has even been remarked that as increasing cultivation lessens the extent of the forests, and renders the soil and climate less humid, the cacao plantations become less flourishing. For these reasons these plantations are diminishing in number and extent in the province of Caraccas, and increasing rapidly in the more eastern provinces of New Barcelona and Cumana, and particularly in the moist woody district between Cariaco and the Golfo Triste.
[2] p. 2.—“‘Banks’ is the name given by the natives to this phenomenon.”
The Llanos of Caraccas are occupied by a great and widely extended formation of conglomerate of an early period. In descending from the vallies of Aragua, and crossing over the most southern ridge of the coast chain of Guigue and Villa de Cura towards Parapara, one finds successively, gneiss and mica slate;—a probably silurian formation of clay slate and black limestone;—serpentine and greenstone in detached spheroidal masses;—and, lastly, close to the margin of the great plain, small hills of augitic amygdaloid and porphyritic slate. These hills between Parapara and Ortiz appear to me like volcanic eruptions on the ancient sea-shore of the Llanos. Farther to the north are the celebrated grotesque-shaped cavernous rocks of Morros de San Juan; they form a kind of rampart, have a crystalline grain like upheaved dolomite, and are rather to be regarded as parts of the shore of the ancient gulf than as islands. I term the Llanos a gulf, for when we consider their small elevation above the present sea level, their form open as it were to the equatorial current sweeping from east to west, and the lowness of the eastern coast between the mouth of the Orinoco and the Essequibo, we can scarcely doubt that the sea once overflowed the whole basin between the coast chain of Caraccas and the Sierra de la Parime, and beat against the mountains of Merida and Pamplona; (as it is supposed to have overflowed the plains of Lombardy, and beat against the Cottian and Pennine Alps). The strike or inclination of the American Llanos is also directed from west to east. Their height at Calabozo, 400 geographical miles from the sea, is barely 30 toises (192 English feet); being 15 toises (96 English feet) less than that of Pavia, and 45 toises (288 English feet) less than that of Milan, in the plains of Lombardy between the Alps and Apennines. The form of the surface of this part of the globe reminds one of Claudian’s expression, “curvata tumore parvo planities.” The horizontality of the Llanos is so perfect that in many portions of them no part of an area of more than 480 square miles appears to be a foot higher than the rest. If, in addition to this, we imagine to ourselves the absence of all bushes, and even in the Mesa de Pavones the absence of any isolated palm-trees, it will afford some idea of the singular aspect of this sea-like desert plain. As far as the eye can reach, it can hardly rest on a single object a few inches high. If it were not that the state of the lowest strata of the atmosphere, and the consequent changes of refraction, render the horizon continually indeterminate and undulating, altitudes of the sun might be taken with the sextant from the margin of the plain as well as from the horizon at sea. This great horizontality of the former sea bottom makes the “banks” more striking. They are broken strata which rise abruptly from two to three feet above the surrounding rock, and extend uniformly over a length of from 40 to 48 English geographical miles. The small streams of the Steppes take their rise on these banks.
In passing through the Llanos of Barcelona, on our return from the Rio Negro, we found frequent traces of earthquakes. Instead of the banks standing higher than the surrounding rock, we found here solitary strata of gypsum from 3 to 4 toises (19 to 25 English feet) lower. Farther to the west, near the junction of the Caura with the Orinoco, and to the east of the mission of S. Pedro de Alcantara, an extensive tract of dense forest sank down in an earthquake in 1790, and a lake was formed of more than 300 toises (1918 English feet) diameter. The tall trees (Desmanthus, Hymenæas, and Malpighias) long retained their foliage and verdure under the water.
[3] p. 2.—“We seem to see before us a shoreless ocean.”
The prospect of the distant Steppe is still more striking, when the spectator has been long accustomed in the dense forests both to a very restricted field of view, and to the aspect of a rich and highly luxuriant vegetation. Ineffaceable is the impression which I received on our return from the Upper Orinoco, when, from the Hato del Capuchino, on a mountain opposite to the mouth of the Rio Apure, we first saw again the distant Steppe. The sun had just set; the Steppe appeared to rise like a hemisphere; and the light of the rising stars was refracted in the lowest stratum of air. The excessive heating of the plain by the vertical rays of the sun causes the variations of refraction,—occasioned by the effects of radiation, of the ascending current, and of the contact of strata of air of unequal density,—to continue through the entire night.
[4] p. 2.—“The naked stony crust.”
Immense tracts of flat bare rock form peculiar and characteristic features in the Deserts both of Africa and Asia. In the Schamo, which separates Mongolia and the mountain chains of Ulangom and Malakha-Oola from the north-west part of China, these banks of rock are called Tsy. They are also found in the forest-covered plains of the Orinoco, surrounded by the most luxuriant vegetation (Relation Hist. t. ii. p. 279). In the middle of these flat tabular masses of granite and syenite of some thousand feet diameter, denuded of all vegetation save a few scantily distributed lichens, we find small islands of soil, covered with low and always flowering plants which give them the appearance of little gardens. The monks of the Upper Orinoco regard these bare and perfectly level surfaces of rock, when they are of considerable extent, as peculiarly apt to cause fevers and other illnesses. Several missionary villages have been deserted or removed elsewhere in consequence of this opinion, which is very widely diffused. Supposing the opinion correct, is such an influence of these flat rocks or laxas to be attributed to a chemical action on the atmosphere, or merely to the effect of increased radiation?