We all retired to rest, therefore, with a determination to lay in a good stock of sleep. Notwithstanding this determination, and the fatigue I had endured in the excessive heat of the day, the novelty of my new existence resisted every effort to close my eyes for rest; and I arose in the morning but very little refreshed.
The blessing of rain
During the first five days of our journey the intense heat of the sun, to which we were unseasoned, annoyed us all exceedingly; while the scorching earth so much blistered my feet that, on the sixth morning, I lingered behind, and divested myself of both stockings and shoes, hanging them upon the mule's baggage. In the school of experience nature is head master. The relief was almost instantaneous; and, during that day, I surprised my fellow-travellers with my pedestrian performances, which induced them all to follow my example. Early the same afternoon, the rain began to fall in torrents, or rather in sheets, previously to which, during our journey over the plains, the extreme dryness of the weather had occasioned one of those vegetable conflagrations so common in hot countries. Hitherto the scene had been arid, the land being hard to the feet, and painfully dry to the eye. The following morning, we had an opportunity of observing with what surprising rapidity nature, in these climates, clothes the earth. Our course was now on a wide-expanded green carpet, every where soft and cooling to the feet, and deliciously refreshing to the sight. Birds of every hue, gems of the air, glittered in our pathway; a vast number of the cormorant species were busy in gobbling up frogs, toads, and snakes; the eagle and the vulture, too, were soaring over our heads, looking out for the prey these regions afford them in such abundance. Every step we took frightened up flocks of the smaller feathered tribe, and brought to view myriads of other living things, such as slugs, snails, and insects of every variety.
On the tenth day of our journey, we approached a country covered, as far as the eye could reach, with dense foliage, variegated with every known or imaginable hue, the groundwork of which was one wide-spreading mass of every shade of green. There were browns of all tints, yellow, orange, purple, and brilliant scarlets, so intermingled as to present one uninterrupted view of nature in glorious beauty, spreading over an undulating mass of waving forest-green, while, in appearance, reaching from the high heavens to the earth, into which the lower sweeps seemed to dip, conveying the idea of eternal spring, summer, and autumn, harmoniously blended into one. As we skirted the forest, the charming variety of the blossoms, and their shades of colour, presented a still more enlivened appearance—the tops of the trees being covered with bloom, some standing erect towards the light of the sun, others bending down, with a profusion of fruit and seed.
Yet, even here, in this enchanting scene, was man admonished, and reminded of mortality: as we passed the margin of the wood, here and there was seen some former giant of the forest, whose head had been bared by time or the thunder blast, painfully, in the midst of nature's prodigal luxuriance, intimating that all things have their period of birth, maturity, and decay.
Meeting with natives
Penetrated with surprise and admiration at the scene, it was some time before we discovered that we were approaching a party of natives, who, it was evident, had been watching our movements. When they first attracted our notice, the sound of what we took for a village bell fell upon the ear; whereupon my father flattered himself that we were approaching a civilized settlement; while both my uncles were of opinion that a signal of alarm was given at our approach, and, in consequence, prepared for defence. The bell, however, sounded only at intervals of four or five minutes; and as there was no increase of numbers in consequence, we at once went forth to meet the natives. They consisted of a party of six, besides an old negro, who seemed to be the patriarch of his race. To our surprise and delight, he spoke English remarkably well, as did also a young man who appeared to be his son. Probably, they were runaway slaves. They proved, however, to be friendly disposed; and when we spoke of the bell, and the negro had explained the nature of our enquiry, they all broke out into a most immoderate fit of laughter. The negro, almost convulsed, said, "White bird, ding dong—ding, dong! a great way off; for white man here, white bird, ding, dong—ding, dong!" The bird that sends forth this peculiar sound is named the campanero, and is snow white; it may be heard at three miles' distance; and during my sojourn subsequently in the wilds of nature, it was the only sound that daily recalled to my recollection the tones of my native village church bell.
As we were all attention to the negro, who was very lively and garrulous, a flock of birds passed over our heads, emitting sounds that might be mistaken for those of a trumpet; when the old man pointed up, and laughingly said—"Red-coats, red-coats!" meaning to ask, ironically, if we took the birds for soldiers? These birds are properly called Waracaba, and are frequently rendered domestic, when they exhibit the attachment of a dog to their master, following him in the same spirit of fidelity; their spirit, also, appears to exceed that of the game cock—although unarmed with spurs for defence, they will fly at a dog; and, in a domestic state, seldom fail to browbeat and lord it over the dunghill cocks living in the same yard.
While my father was consulting with the negro regarding our bivouac for the night, the latter suddenly seized his foot, exclaiming, "Chegoe in toe," then forcing him to the ground, and taking from his pocket a knife, proceeded to extract one of those formidable insects, which had become embedded in the skin of the foot. This insect, had it been allowed to remain, would have, no doubt, produced inflammation, from its bite, and, in all probability, caused my father lameness for some weeks. The negroes treated us with the greatest possible kindness and respect; and the old man, who appeared the orator of his party, insisted upon our sharing their hospitality, by partaking of their evening meal, which we readily accepted, producing, at the same time, our own provisions; and such an interchange of delicacies took place, that I am sure it would puzzle me now to recollect or enumerate them. I know it was the cause of some considerable share of merriment among us all. Their food, if I remember rightly, appeared to me to consist more of vegetables and fruit than ours, and was of a simpler nature. I fancy if some of our worthy civic authorities had been present as partakers of this repast, they would have been more surprised at the viands than delighted.
But man is of a ductile nature—a creature of habit, and may almost habituate himself to anything. In civilized cities, where thousands are taxing their energies in the pursuit of wealth and position in society, an artificial state of existence is the consequence; and the primitive fare of our forefathers is superseded by something of a more stimulating nature. I have seen, in my experience in forest life, how little man can subsist upon, and how healthy and strong he may continue in a simple state of existence. Civilization brings with it a host of imaginary and fictitious wants.