Sir Martin Conway records a more remarkable case of this character. “Long after the sun had set and darkness had come on, Illampu glowed red like fire, and all the people in town saw it. Such a sight none had ever beheld. In great terror they ran to the church and the bells were rung. They thought the end of the world had come.”[25]
My own conclusion regarding the luminous phenomena, that occupied our attention for at least an hour, during the night to which I refer, is that they were of electric origin. The mountain in front of us seemed to be a vast condenser from which the electricity was escaping by a silent glow or brush-discharge on an immense scale. The color and the steadiness of the lights, as well as their durability, were evidence of this. They were probably of the same nature as the corposant of St. Elmo’s fire, sometimes seen on the spars or yards of a ship.[26]
We slept little that last night on the Meta. Earth and sky were so beautiful, and there was so much to engage our attention that it was a late hour before we sought repose.
Early in the morning we left the Meta and entered the Humea, passing the Rio Negro on our left. In Europe or America these two affluents of the Meta would be considered good-sized rivers. Both of them are navigable for some distance, but like hundreds of other rivers in South America, are practically unknown, except to those who live in their immediate vicinity.
About nine o’clock our pilot blew a loud, prolonged blast on his conch which served him for a horn or call-instrument, and, looking ahead of us, we saw gathered on the banks the entire population of Barrigón—a negro woman, her three daughters and a young man, likewise a negro. We expected, of course, to see also our mules and our arrieros—muleteers—but they were nowhere visible. They evidently had not arrived. To describe our disappointment and dismay would be impossible. We felt as if we were about to be marooned, or left in a penal colony. What did it all mean?
[1] Named after the astronomer Copernicus. [↑]
[2] In eastern Colombia, if a cattle farm contains more than a thousand head of cattle it is called a hato; if it counts less than this number it is known as fundacion. A plantation in the hilly country is called a hacienda, in the plains a conuco, and if it have a sugar-mill, it is named a trapiche. [↑]
[3] The steamer on which we had come to Orocué, took, on her return to Ciudad Bolivar, among other articles of freight, nearly three tons of orchids, of many species, collected from divers parts of Colombia. They were intended for certain New York florists, and were shipped directly to their greenhouses in New Jersey. They were gathered by one of the many orchid collectors that are constantly engaged in tropical America in making collections for florists in the United States and Europe.
Sometimes they come across new species of rarest beauty. This means a treasure-trove for the lucky finder. Not long before our visit to Colombia a truly magnificent specimen had been discovered by one of these collectors. It was sold in London for a thousand pounds sterling. And we heard of others that fetched prices quite as extravagant as any that were ever paid for tulip-bulbs during the period of the tulipomania in Holland in the early part of the seventeenth century. [↑]