One day, during my wanderings in South America, I came unawares upon a herd of wild horses that were grazing quietly on the borders of a forest. Well,—I had been walking a long way, and felt tired; so I thought I might as well try to catch one of these horses, and vary my mode of journeying, by riding. I had read of the manner in which the Guachos (or South American peasants) catch these animals with a lasso, or long rope, which has a loop at the end of it; and this they expertly throw over the head of the animal that they single out: their dexterity is surprising. I feared, however, to attempt such an exploit, lest I should fail, and thus frighten them all away: besides I had no rope that was long enough.
So I set my wits to work, and thus I tried my scheme. I observed among the trees that skirted the plain, a pool of water: to this pool I made my way; for, thought I, they will surely come there, by and by, to drink; so I climbed up into a cinchona, or barktree.
Having fastened one end of my rope tightly round one of the lower branches, I made the other into a slip-knot or noose; and then I waited patiently for my expected prey. At last the whole herd of horses left their pasture in a body, and came neighing and gambling towards the water, with their tails sailing in the wind, and their long manes waving about with every graceful turn of their bodies. I assure you it was rather an appalling sight to see myself close over the heads of so many powerful animals, that made the ground echo with their spirited movements.
I sat still, however, enjoying myself with a calabash shell full of milk, which I had drawn from a cow-tree that grew on the rock near me.
“A cow-tree, Mr. Starboard!” methinks I hear my young readers exclaim; “A cow-tree! Surely you mean a cow grazing, Mr. Starboard. We know that travellers are privileged to tell pretty big stories, Mr. Starboard; but there is such a thing, Mr. Starboard; as overstepping too far the bounds of truth, Mr. Starboard.”
Upon my veracity, my dear young readers, I am in earnest. It was a cow-tree, from which I drew the milk: and the great traveller, Humboldt, will prove what I have said.
The cow-tree is found on the most barren rocks, where rains rarely visit it, and it has large woody roots. When its trunk is pierced, a most delicious, white, thick juice exudes, (or flows out,) which is quite as pleasant and nourishing as the milk of our cows. The Indians always make use of it, and it is found in the greatest abundance about sunrise.
Well: I had just finished my bowl of vegetable milk, when a fine fellow of a horse came under my cinchona-tree, and stooped to drink; so I crept to the end of the branch; and as he raised his head, I slipped the noose over his neck, and drew it tight; the start he gave when he found himself confined, frightened his companions, and away they all scampered, leaving me and my prisoner alone.