A naturalist might spend many years in Venezuela and still exhaust but a very small fraction of the possibilities offered to the field-observer—so vast are the resources of that zoological wonderland. Exigencies beyond our control, however, recalled us to Trinidad, and after a brief rest we turned our eyes toward British Guiana.
The distance between the island and the low Guiana mainland is not great; it required just two days of uneventful sailing for the Sarstoon of the Quebec Line to plough through the deep water and schools of flying-fish, and finally nose her way carefully through the mud to Georgetown.
The city is built on the low coastal land, and a great stone wall prevents the sea from reclaiming its own at high tide. The streets are wide and bordered with trees. No more suitable style of architecture could be desired for a tropical country than that employed in constructing the houses of the better class of inhabitants; they are practically all doors and windows, giving admittance to every passing breeze. The wide verandas are carefully screened.
Numerous canals, spanned by picturesque little wooden bridges, divide the city into sections. At low tide the locks in the sea-wall are opened to permit the excess of water to escape; at high tide the locks are closed to keep the lowlands from being flooded. Growing in the water are masses of Victoria regia lilies with white or pink flowers; the giant leaves, with upturned edges, and often several feet across, resemble huge pies; but the plant is lovely from a distance only, as the veins and midribs are covered with long, sharp spines that effectively prevent any intimate advances on the part of an overenthusiastic admirer.
Mosquitoes are not lacking, but they appear at night only, when one can easily evade them by remaining indoors; and through the hours of darkness the twanging and peeping of myriads of frogs fill the air with a not unmusical din.
The population is the most cosmopolitan imaginable. It ranges from dignified, helmeted British officers down to the meanest Chinese or Hindu coolie living in a dilapidated shamble on the border of a marshy rice-field.
Our first care was to secure the admission of our equipment by the customs officials. This was accomplished without an undue amount of difficulty; and within a short time we had also obtained a permit to pursue our scientific work, for in British Guiana birds are wisely protected. We also opened negotiations with Sproston’s, Ltd., who operate many large lumber, rubber, and mining enterprises in the interior of the country. This step is a most essential one, as the concern, through its agents, can be of the greatest assistance to the traveller.
On July 7, we boarded a comfortable little steamer and started up the Demerara. Rain fell in torrents throughout the day so that it was impossible to see anything but the fleeting, yellow water against which the straining craft battled vigorously, and the long rows of trees faintly outlined in a world of blue-gray mist. Wismar was reached that night and passengers and luggage were hurried aboard the waiting train, which soon covered the eighteen miles of intervening country to Rockstone, on the Essiquibo River. A delightful bungalow hotel is maintained by Sproston’s at the latter place, and every need of the visitor is superabundantly supplied.
A launch of considerable size, towing a house-boat provided for first-class passengers, left Rockstone early the following morning. The Essiquibo is truly a very great river, and the height and magnificence of the forest covering its banks is not exceeded in any part of South America. In some instances, the trees are one hundred and seventy-five feet high; cottonwood, greenheart, and wallaba mingled their leafy crowns far above the mere rabble of palms and lower growth, shutting out the light and effectively killing their competitors until—after hundreds of years of successful fighting—the strain begins to tell and the monarchs are compelled to bow before the inevitable onslaught of old age. At the first signs of weakness enemies spring up on every side. The struggle for life is constant and in deadly earnest. Of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of saplings which appear as the light and air gradually penetrate through the opening made by the dying giant, only one can eventually survive. Naturally, the strongest and fittest possesses every advantage in the mad fight for existence, and as it quickly outstrips its weaker rivals they wither and die.
The launch called at a number of rubber-plantations and lumber-camps. Great quantities of greenheart (Nectandra rodiæi) are cut and exported; the wood is very hard and durable, and resists decay when under water, for which reason it is used largely for submerged work such as wharfs and piles. Next in importance is crab-wood (Carapa guianensis) employed in building houses; third in value are several varieties of wallaba (Eperua); this wood has a coarse but even grain and is very resinous, being suitable for the manufacture of shingles and vat-staves.