As in the arctic regions the intense cold during winter retards the pulsations, or even suspends the operations of life, so in the Llanos the long continuance of drought causes a similar stagnation in animated nature. The thinly-scattered trees and shrubs do not indeed cast their foliage, but the greyish-yellow of their leaves announces that vegetation is suspended. Buried in the clay of the dried-up pools, the alligator and the water-boa lie plunged in a deep summer-sleep, like the bear of the north in his long winter slumber; and many animals which, at other times, are found roaming over the Llanos,—such as the graceful aguti, the hoggish peccary, and the timid deer of the savannah,—have left the parched plains and migrated to the forest or the river. The large maneless puma and the spotted jaguar, following their prey to less arid regions, are now no longer seen in their former hunting-grounds, and the Indian has also disappeared with the stag whom he pursued with his poisoned arrows. In the Siberian Tundras the reindeer and the migratory birds are scared away by winter; here life is banished or suspended by an intolerable aridity.
AGUTI.
PECCARY.
Sometimes the ravages of fire complete the image of death on the parched savannah.
‘We had not yet penetrated far into the plain,’ says Schomburgk, ‘when we saw to the south-east high columns of smoke ascending to the skies, the sure signs of a savannah fire, and at the same time the Indians anxiously pressed us to speed on, as the burning torrent would most likely roll in our direction. Although at first we were inclined to consider their fears as exaggerated, yet the next half-hour served to convince us of the extreme peril of our situation. In whatever direction we gazed, we nowhere saw a darker patch in the grass-plain announcing the refuge of a water-pool; we could already distinguish the flames of the advancing column, already hear the bursting and crackling of the reeds, when fortunately the sharp eye of the Indians discovered some small eminences before us, only sparingly covered with a low vegetation, and to these we now careered as if Death himself were behind us. Half a minute later, and I should never have lived to relate our adventures. With beating hearts we saw the sea of fire rolling its devouring billows towards us; the suffocating smoke, striking in our faces, forced us to turn our backs upon the advancing conflagration, and to await the dreadful decision with the resignation of helpless despair.
‘And now we were in the midst of the blaze. Two arms of fire encircled the base of the little hillock on which we stood, and united before us in a waving mass, which, rolling onwards, receded farther and farther from our gaze. The flames had devoured the short grass of the hillock, but had not found sufficient nourishment for our destruction. Whole swarms of voracious vultures followed in circling flight the fiery column, like so many hungry jackals, and pounced upon the snakes and lizards which the blaze had stifled and half-calcined in its murderous embrace. When, with the rapidity of lightning, they darted upon their prey and disappeared in the clouds of smoke, it almost seemed as if they were voluntarily devoting themselves to a fiery death. Soon the deafening noise of the conflagration ceased, and the dense black clouds in the distance were the only signs that the fire was still proceeding on its devastating path over the wide wastes of the savannah.’
At length, after a long drought, when all Nature seems about to expire under the want of moisture, various signs announce the approach of the rainy season. The sky, instead of its brilliant blue, assumes a leaden tint, from the vapours which are beginning to condense. The black spot of the ‘Southern Cross,’ that most beautiful of constellations, in which, as the Indians poetically fancy, the Spirit of the savannah resides, becomes more indistinct as the transparency of the atmosphere diminishes. The mild phosphoric gleam of the Magellanic clouds expires. The fixed stars, which shone with a quiet planetary light, now twinkle even in the zenith. Like distant mountain-chains, banks of clouds begin to rise over the horizon, and accumulating in masses of increasing density, ascend higher and higher, until at length the lightning flashes from their dark bosom, and with the loud crash of thunder, the first rains burst in torrents over the thirsty land. Scarce have the showers had time to moisten the earth, when the dormant powers of vegetation begin to awaken with almost miraculous rapidity. The dull, tawny surface of the parched savannah changes as if by magic into a carpet of the liveliest green, enamelled with thousands of flowers of every colour. Stimulated by the light of early day, the mimosas expand their delicate foliage, and the fronds of the beautiful mauritias sprout forth with all the luxuriance of youthful energy.
And now, also, the animal life of the savannah awakens to the full enjoyment of existence. The horse and the ox rejoice in the grasses, under whose covert the jaguar frequently lurks, to pounce upon them with his fatal spring. On the border of the swamps, the moist clay, slowly heaving, bursts asunder, and from the tomb in which he lay embedded rises a gigantic water-snake or a huge crocodile. The new-formed pools and lakes swarm with life, and a host of water-fowl—ibises, cranes, flamingos, mycterias—make their appearance, to regale on the prodigal banquet. A new creation of insects and other unbidden guests now seek the wretched hovels of the Indians, which are sparingly scattered over the higher parts of the savannah. Countless multitudes of ants, sandflies, and mosquitos; rattlesnakes, expelled by the cold and moisture from the lower grounds; repulsive geckos, which with incredible rapidity run along the overhanging rafters; nauseous toads, which, concealing themselves by day in the dark corners of the huts, crawl forth in the evening in quest of prey; lizards, scorpions, centipedes; in a word, worms and vermin of all names and forms,—emerge from the inundated plains, for the tropical rains have gradually converted the savannah, which erewhile exhibited a waste as dreary as that of the Sahara, into a boundless lake. The swollen rivers of the steppe—the Apure, the Arachuna, the Pajara, the Arauca—pour forth their mighty streams over the plains, and boats are now able to sail for miles across the land from one river-bed into another.