CHAPTER XII
IN THE “ORIENTE”
Restricted use of term “Oriente”—Margarita—Asunción—Porlamar and Pampatar—Macanao—A primitive population—The priests, the comet, and the people—Cubagua—Pearl fisheries—Coche—Cumaná—Las Casas—A diving feat—Petroleum and salt—Fruit—The Manzanares—Cumanacoa—In the hills—San Antonio and its church—The Guacharo cave—Humboldt—Virgin territory—Punceres—Oil-springs—The Bermudez asphalt lake—Carúpano—“Ron blanco”—Sulphur and gold—Rio Caribe—Peninsula of Paria—Cristobal Colón—An ambitious project—The Delta—the Golfo Triste—Pedernales—Asphalt and outlaws—In the caños—Tucupita—Barrancas—Imataca iron-mines—Canadian capital for Venezuela—Guayana Vieja.
As the term “Oriente” is used to-day in Venezuela, it includes the cities of Barcelona, Maturín and Ciudad Bolivar, with their surrounding districts, but since these are more fitly considered in succeeding chapters, the use of the word is restricted here to the eastern part of the Caribbean Hills, the Island of Margarita, and the Delta of the Orinoco.
The “Oriente” thus includes those parts, not only of Venezuela but of the New Continent, which were first visited by Europeans. The names of the Boca del Draco (between the peninsula of Paria and Trinidad) and of Margarita were given by Columbus; Cubagua supported the first settlement of adventurers, and the shores westward of Cumaná were visited by Alonso de Ojeda on his first voyage.
Margarita lies some twenty miles north of the mainland, with the islands of Cubagua and Coche between. It is practically two islands joined by a sandspit, the two halves being equally rugged and mountainous; the western is known as Macanao, and contains but few inhabitants, the towns being all in the eastern half or Margarita proper.
With the surrounding smaller islands it constitutes the State of Nueva Esparta. The capital, Asunción, founded in 1524, is in a sheltered valley at the eastern end of the island. A ruined fort above the town, ruins of substantial houses, grass-grown streets and a general atmosphere of decay make the town somewhat depressing. To the south-east are the ports of Pampatar and Porlamar, the former the most important, since to this come European liners, but Porlamar has the larger population. The bay of Porlamar is generally full of small fishing-smacks and pearling vessels, which carry on two of the chief industries of the island, though from Pampatar, with the pearls, they export also tiles, hats of straw and of a kind of velvet known as pelo guamo, hammocks, and embroidery.
The western half of Margarita is dry and barren for the most part, with small, scrubby vegetation, but here and there one finds grass-covered glades and more fertile soil; the inhabitants are chiefly fishermen, living in great poverty, with poor diet, yet contented and at the same time amazingly ignorant of the outside world. Who may be president in Carácas matters little to them, and European countries and cities are unknown. Probably fibre could be grown here with advantage, but the only land industry appears to be the farming of goats or cattle. Some of the outlying homesteads are conducted on patriarchal lines, and the families of the owners are occasionally enormous. Many of the people seem to be direct descendants of the ancient Guaiquerias, of strangely Mongolian appearance.
In Porlamar one may arrange for a passage in one of the little sloops or schooners to any of the other islands of the State, and it is as well to be prepared for a drenching if it is necessary to sail against the wind. Porlamar is a triste little town with about 3,500 inhabitants. We had the good (or ill) fortune to be there on the night when this planet passed through the tail of Halley’s comet, which for some time previous had been a magnificent sight in the early morning. The priest had given out that the earth was to be destroyed by the comet at 2 a.m. prompt unless perhaps repentance, signified by devotion to mother-Church, was sufficiently general to avert disaster. As a result all the evening the churches, brilliantly lighted by myriads of candles, were crammed with devotees who professed and doubtless felt penitence for past misdeeds, if thereby they might prevent the threatened destruction or secure safety for themselves. Two o’clock came and passed, but, the night being cloudy, there was no sign of the comet, and the crowd flocked to the club and the botiquins to make up for lost time. It was in vain for the priests to tell them that the comet would come back if they persisted in their evil ways: the churches have remained as empty as they were before the months of the comet.