Up the Orinoco and down the Magdalena

by J. A. Zahm

For consolation might have weeping trod,

When banished from the garden of their God.”

In the garden adjoining our house were citrus trees laden with golden fruit, bananas of many varieties and a large mango tree, whose branches were bending under the weight of its richly tinted, luscious drupes. Near by was a noble old ceiba, while but a short distance away was a tall Jacaranda—of the trumpet-flower family—literally enveloped in a reddish-violet mantle of papilionaceous flowers, and filling the air round about with perfume not unlike that of the orange blossom or the jasmine. Everywhere we went some new floral display was awaiting us. All along our path we found an unending variety of laurels and myrtles; trees and shrubs and herbs of the Rubiaciæ family. There were splendid representatives of the genera Cassia and Mimosa, and clumps of the ever-present moriche, together with other species of palm equally attractive and majestic. Frequently these were joined by delicate festoons of liana, many of which were weighted down with orchids and epiphytes of the rarest beauty and fragrance.

Orocué is the capital of the district of that name in the National Territory of the Meta, and the seat of a prefecture. It is located on the left bank of the Meta, on an eminence about thirty feet above the surface of the river, and sufficiently high to guarantee it against inundations during the rainy season. Being less than five degrees from the equator, the climate is warm but, during our stay, it was never uncomfortable, and at no time did the thermometer ever rise above 82° F. The population is about six hundred. The place is healthful, and malignant fevers are rare. The streets are wide, and some of the houses are well-built and comfortable. Most of them are constructed of bamboo plastered over with clay. The roof is thatched with the broad leaves of the moriche palm or preferably with those of the palma de cobija, also known as the palma de sombrero—hat palm. This is what scientists call Copernicia[1] tectorum, and is preferred to any other leaf because it is not readily inflammable. Such a roof lasts ten or twelve years, and is impervious to water. During our sojourn in Orocué it rained regularly for several hours every day and, although the downpour at times was very heavy, never once did we observe a single drop of water to pass through the roof. Everything in our rooms remained as dry as if the roofs had been made of tile or slate.

Many of these bamboo-palm houses are constructed without the use of a single nail. Studs and cross beams, laths and rafters, are tied together and held firmly in place by bejucos, those wonderful natural cords and cables which are found in such profusion in every tropical forest, and which, in the hands of the natives, serves such an endless variety of purposes.

Some years ago the town possessed what the inhabitants considered a large and beautiful church. It was constructed of the same materials as the other buildings of the town and occupied a conspicuous position on the plaza. In consequence of recent revolutions and other disturbances, it had been greatly neglected, and, at the time of our visit, was rapidly falling into ruins. The people had not had a pastor for some years, but were hoping to have one soon. They, however, received every few months the ministrations of a priest from a neighboring mission, and longed for the time when they could have a resident pastor and see their church restored to its pristine condition.

There was a small school for boys, attended by about twenty young mestizos, but none for girls. There was a movement on foot to secure the services of some nuns to teach the girls, and the mothers of the children awaited their arrival with the greatest impatience. The monjas—nuns—have a wonderful influence over the children, and young and old are thoroughly devoted to them.

Orocué has an aduana, or customhouse, and is the centre of a flourishing grazing district, in which there are numerous hatos and fundaciones,[2] containing from two to twenty thousand head of cattle. Cattle, hides and rubber, together with the coffee, which is brought from the foothills of the Andes, constitute the principal articles of export.[3]

The neighboring Indians manufacture large and beautiful hammocks from the leaves of the Cumare and other palms and bring them here and exchange them for anything that may strike their fancy. Although I had brought a German hammock with me, I procured one of these Indian chinchorros, and found it during the remainder of my journey in South America the best investment I could have made. Nothing contributed more to my comfort when I desired a siesta, and when I wished to escape the filth and insect pests to which, in my wanderings, I was so frequently exposed.

Of the many objects brought to Orocué for barter by the Indians few had greater interest for us than the weapons employed by them in the chase and in war. Among these the chief ones were their poisoned arrows and blowguns. A friend made us a present of some of them, but owing to the inconvenience of transporting them, we were unable, much to our regret, to take them with us.