From the sides the bottom of the lake shelves almost imperceptibly for a great distance, so that at a distance of two or three miles from the shore, a man would be able to walk with his head above the surface. Suddenly, and without the least warning, the bed of the lake dips into almost unfathomable depths, so that, though a man might be barely submerged above his waist, a single step will plunge him into water so deep that the tallest spire ever built would be plunged far below the surface.
Over the surface of this lake dwell numerous human beings, and, even at the present day, when the number of the inhabitants has been much decreased, upon its waters are no less than four large villages, beside numerous detached dwellings formed in the various bays which indent its shores.
The reason for thus abandoning the dry land and taking to the water is a very curious one, and may be summed up in a single word—mosquitoes. These tiny but most annoying insects are found in clouds around the edge of the lake, some species flying by night and others by day, so that at no hour is there the least respite from their attacks. Fortunately, they need the protection of the luxuriant vegetation that fringes the shore of the lake, and not being very enduring of wing, are obliged to rest at intervals in their flight. They therefore keep to the shore, and do not venture to any great distance over the water. Knowing this characteristic of the insect, the natives manage to evade them by making their dwellings behind the range of the mosquito’s flight.
In building these curious habitations, the lake dweller of Maracaibo is forced to employ a greater skill in architecture than is needed by the Waraus of the Orinoco delta. In that muddy delta, formed by the alluvium washed down by the river, the itá palm abounds, and forms natural pillars for the house; but the Lake Maracaibo furnishes no such assistance, and the native architect is therefore obliged to drive piles into the bed of the lake in order to raise his floor above the level of the water.
It is evidently needful that these piles should be made of wood which will not perish by the action of the water, and upon the shores of the lake grows a tree which supplies precisely the kind of timber that is required. It is one of the numerous iron-wood trees, and its scientific name is Guiacum arboreum. It is a splendid tree, rising to the height of a hundred feet or so, and having wood so hard that it will turn the edge of an axe. The natives, however, manage to fell these trees, to cut them into proper lengths, and to drive them firmly into the bed of the lake, where they become even stronger by submersion, being covered in course of years with an incrustation of lime, which makes them look as if they had been actually converted into stone.
On these piles are laid cross-beams and planks of lighter wood, and when a strong roof and light walls have been added, the house is complete. All the parts of the house are lashed together with green sipo, which contracts when dry, and binds the various portions as with bands of iron.
As has been already mentioned, numbers of these houses are gathered together into villages. When the Spaniards first entered the Gulf of Maracaibo, and came within view of the lake, they were struck with amazement, at these habitations, and called the place Venezuela—i. e. Little Venice—a name which has since been extended to the whole of the large province which is now known by that title.
It is on this lake that the gourd system of duck catching is carried to the greatest perfection. Great quantities of ducks frequent its waters, but they are shy of man, and will not allow him to come near them. The natives, however, manage to catch them by hand, without even employing a snare. They take a number of large gourds, scrape out the inside, and set them floating on the lake. At first the timid birds are afraid of the gourds and avoid them, but after a while they become accustomed to them, and allow them to float freely among their ranks.
The Indian then takes a similar gourd and puts it over his head, having previously cut a couple of holes through which he can see. He slips quietly into the water, and makes his way toward the duck, taking care to keep the whole of his body submerged. As soon as he gets among them, he grasps the nearest duck by the legs, jerks it under water, and ties it to his girdle, where it is soon drowned. He then makes his way to another duck, and, if an experienced hand, will capture as many as he can carry, and yet not alarm the survivors.