In the Wilds of South America

by Leo E. Miller

In the middle of the eighteenth century missions, founded by the Jesuit fathers, dotted the river-bank as far up as Esmeraldas; these have long since vanished. Humboldt made his memorable voyage to the Cassiquiare in 1800, and a number of other scientific expeditions followed in his wake at irregular intervals; to enumerate them all would be a tedious and unwarranted use of time. However, one remarkable fact must not be overlooked, namely, that even to this day the actual sources of the Orinoco have not been discovered.

To trace this huge artery to its very beginning, supposedly somewhere in the Serrania de Parima on the Brazilian frontier was not the object of our expedition; but rather to explore the regions north of the inaccurately mapped Rio Cunucunuma, more particularly Mount Duida, thought by many to be the locality described in a widely read book entitled “The Lost World.” Of this country, and of the people and animal life inhabiting its virgin wilds, very little was known.

With the tying up of the Delta the first stage of our journey had been completed.

Ciudad Bolivar, formerly called Angostura, meaning narrows, on account of the narrowing of the Orinoco at this point to the width of a mile, stands on an eminence on the left bank, and is the capital of the Department of Guiana; it is the largest and only city of importance on the river. The red-tiled roofs and whitewashed walls of the houses can be seen from afar. On landing, one is confronted by a strange medley of low, thick-walled edifices; narrow, crooked streets, and swarthy, unkempt people. Practically all of the windows are heavily barred, a custom common in many parts of South America, and retained from the Moors.

Whatever beauty attached to the place is indoors. There are no green lawns or flowering gardens to cheer the eye of the passer-by; but a glimpse behind the sombre walls will invariably reveal an open court or patio filled with flowers and tropical shrubbery, and occasionally a fountain; but this is not all. In the patio of the hotel, which served as our headquarters, there lived in perfect harmony several large tortoises, a deer, two sheep, about a dozen tree-ducks, turkeys, chickens, guinea-fowl, and several pigs; fifteen species of birds, including parrots, orioles, and finches occupied cages hanging on the walls. The desire to keep caged animals is an inherent trait of the South American. Back of the city lies an extensive swamp from which, at least during the month of December, came great numbers of mosquitoes. As may have been inferred, the heat was very great; but regularly at nightfall the strong wind came up the river, causing a drop of several degrees in the temperature; then the town cast off its torpor, lights twinkled, the band played on the water-front, gayly dressed and painted women peered from behind the heavily barred windows, the streets were filled with a roving crowd of men and boys, and Ciudad Bolivar presented a wide-awake appearance.

On the opposite side of the Orinoco is the small town of Soledad; this village supplies a large portion of the sailors who man the boats plying on the river.

Our first care was to try to find a way of proceeding on our voyage. On account of the low stage of the water from the months of January to March, steamers do not ascend beyond Ciudad Bolivar regularly, and at best they go only as far as the Apure. It was, therefore, decided to charter a sailboat of shallow draft which would take us to the first great barrier to navigation, the cataracts of Atures. To secure such a craft was not an easy matter. We visited several of the large export houses, mostly German, but none of them had vessels at their disposal. Finally, we heard of a man named Guillermo Montez; he was a type frequently met with in South America; owning a small store which contained chiefly long ropes of garlic festooned on the walls, living in a mud hovel, and apparently poverty-stricken, he nevertheless possessed great wealth and knew how to handle his fellow countrymen. This “handling” consisted of keeping them constantly in debt to himself, so that he owned them virtually body and soul. Montez immediately sent to Soledad for one of his debtors, and within a short time we had secured the contract for the transportation needed.

On December 16 word reached us that the boat was ready. We had spent the intervening days adding to the stock of provisions brought from New York, and it might be added that the shops of Ciudad Bolivar were well filled with a splendid assortment of foodstuffs at reasonable prices.

The Hilo de Oro (Thread of Gold), for that was the name of the sloop impatiently bobbing near the bank, was a boat capable of carrying one hundred and fifty quintales, under the command of one Pedro Solano; her crew consisted of four men, and the captain’s wife, whose position was that of cook. To properly load the equipment and provisions required half a day, and with the springing up of the evening wind we hoisted sail and, skirting the towering rocks protruding from the centre of the river, glided easily to the other side. As all the men came from Soledad, there followed a night of the usual festivities of drinking and leave-taking; but with the rising sun, the wind still holding out, we started on the real voyage up the great river.

Fortunately, the wind was favorable and continued to blow intermittently all day long; by ten o’clock at night we had covered about thirty miles and cast anchor at a point called Boca la Brea. The width of the river averaged about one mile and a half, and the entire bed is strewn with huge boulders, rendering navigation at night impossible.