Up the Orinoco and down the Magdalena

by J. A. Zahm

At no time, either on the Orinoco or the Meta, did we ever see the thermometer rise within fifteen degrees of the intense heat one frequently experiences during the summer in New York and Washington. The nights, although usually warm, were never unpleasant. A sheet was generally sufficient covering, but we sometimes found it necessary to use a blanket. Only once were we annoyed—and that for but a short time—by insects, and that was because we moored near the bank under large, overhanging trees, which seemed to be alive with certain bugs of a very noxious odor.

Once or twice during each day it was necessary to stop to take on wood, which was usually ready and piled up on the bank. Sometimes, however, the owner would demand more than the captain was willing to give, and that meant that the crew was then obliged to go into the forest and cut fuel sufficient to take us to the next wood-pile further up the river. Fortunately, we were not often obliged to cut the wood ourselves. Each time we did so meant an extra delay of three or four hours.

Besides stopping for wood, it was at times necessary to call for provisions, fruits, chickens, eggs, and a certain queso á mano—hand-made cheese—of which the Llaneros are very fond and which we found very palatable.

On one occasion our supply of beef became exhausted, and it was necessary to stop—about noon—at a hato along the river to get a heifer for our next meal. Unfortunately, the owner of the ranch was not at home. He was out among his herds several miles distant. Our steward, nothing disconcerted, started in search of him, but before he had found the proprietor of the herd, and had gotten the desired novilla—heifer—on board, it was dark. There was then nothing to do but tie our boat up near the house in which we had spent most of the afternoon, and wait until the following morning before continuing our journey.

At first, it would appear that such delays would prove very annoying, but this was very far from being the case. On the contrary, it was most interesting, as it gave us an opportunity of getting acquainted with the people, and of familiarizing ourselves with their mode of life and occupations, and enjoying many interesting conversations with them about matters in which they were most concerned. We always found them very hospitable and very entertaining. They always gave us a cordial welcome to their humble home, and rarely allowed us to depart without giving us something from their simple store. Sometimes it was a brace of chickens, at other times a basket of fruit, a calabash of eggs, or generous piece of queso á mano—which was made by the mistress of the house herself.

Here we were among people who lived the simple life, and appeared all the happier for it. We saw no evidences of suffering anywhere. The only thing that seemed to concern them was the instability of the government. True, Colombia had been in the enjoyment of peace for several years past, but every now and then some gossip-monger would circulate reports about another uprising in some part of the country, and about the imminent danger to which the men were exposed of being drafted into the army, and of being torn away from their families, to whom they are devotedly attached.

Our Crew Ashore for Fuel.

Occasionally, while the crew was cutting wood, we were able to make a collection of orchids, of which there are along the Meta many wonderfully beautiful species. At one time our deck was a veritable bower of all kinds of orchids of the most brilliant colors and of the strangest imaginable forms. Some of them possessed a most delicate fragrance, while others emitted a delightful perfume that spread over the greater part of our deck.

Linnæus knew only about a dozen exotic orchids, and expressed it as his opinion that when the world was fully explored by botanists, it might probably yield a hundred species all told. How surprised he would be if he could now return to the world and find that the species of this curious plant are actually counted by thousands! To English horticulturists alone some thousands of species are known. Even some of the many genera of this extensive order contain hundreds of species. Of odontoglossums there are more than a hundred species catalogued. Of oncidiums more than two hundred and fifty species have been described. Of dendrobiums between three and four hundred species are known, while the genus Habenaria counts more than four hundred species. Then there are the countless hybrids—and their number is rapidly increasing—that, during the last few years, have been produced in the conservatories of Europe and America.