We reached the village of San Juan in time to breakfast at the house of our excellent friend Don José Pulido, a gentleman of most amiable and hospitable disposition. While they prepared our morning meal, I repaired to the outskirts of the village to sketch the Morros, which from the distance appeared two huge castles in ruins. The continued action of the waters has furrowed the sides of the mountain—composed principally of a peculiar limestone—into many fantastic forms. The same wearing action has in like manner perforated the calcareous rock into a thousand subterranean passages or chasms of fathomless depth, it being asserted by persons who have approached sufficiently near the entrance of these caves, that a bowlder rolled down the abyss, is never heard to strike the bottom. I regretted exceedingly that our short stay at this place would not permit me to visit the interior of the main entrance to these subterranean passages, no person ever having ventured within the dark abode—as it is currently believed—of demons and the like. As a proof of this assertion, the villagers point out to the inquisitive traveller a spring issuing from that Tartarus highly charged with sulphurated hydrogen gas, the fumes of which are in themselves sufficiently powerful to convey the idea that something diabolical must be brewing in the bowels of the stupendous mountain. The spring, however, possesses highly medicinal virtues; on this account it is often visited by invalids from various parts of the country, especially those affected with rheumatic or scrofulous complaints.
During a heavy freshet, the bones of an antediluvian animal, supposed to be those of a mastodon, were disinterred by the torrent in the bed of a ravine. A portion of these bones were sent to us by our zealous friend Don José, as a great curiosity; as such they were transferred to the British Minister at Caracas, and finally consigned by him to the great Museum in London.
The village of San Juan is likewise noted for its fine climate and the total absence of epidemics. Invalids affected with pulmonary complaints find there also an air and temperature most congenial. Beyond these advantages, San Juan offers no other attractions to the stranger capable of inducing a longer sojourn than is absolutely necessary, as not even a ranch has been raised there for the convenience of those seeking its beneficent waters.
After partaking of a substantial breakfast, composed of the most popular dishes of the country, such as carne frita, sancocho, and some delicious fish from the river Guárico, we bade adieu to our estimable host, Don José, and continued our journey down the stony bottom of a narrow quebrada or ravine, noted for its many windings, and the quantities of sharp stones that pave the way; these are evidently the detached fragments of the basaltic formation constituting the base of the Morros. At Flores, a miserable country inn like all the rest along this route, we stopped a few moments to refresh ourselves with guarapo, a kind of cider made from the juice of sugar cane, or by dissolving papelon in water and allowing it to ferment for a few days. The guarapo of Flores is celebrated throughout the country, and no person passing through this place ever omits to call for it. When mixed with aguardiente, it forms what is termed carabina, (carbine;) the effects rarely fail to knock down those who rashly brave its fire.
Our next stopping place was the village of Ortiz, a little beyond that of Parapara. Taken together, they might be considered as the Pillars of Hercules to the grassy Mediterranean of the Llanos, and the terminus of civilized pursuits in that quarter, as there you find the last vestiges of agriculture and the useful arts. In addition to small patches of sugar cane and Indian corn raised by the inhabitants for their own consumption, they excel in the manufacture of leather, saddles, and their appurtenances, which they sell to all parts of the country. Beyond this, nothing is to be met with but wild herds of cattle grazing on prairies or steppes of vast extent, with the exception of the narrow belt of park-like scenery intervening between these and a ridge of low, rocky hills—galeras—which skirts the ancient shore of the great basin of those pampas. The galeras were doubtless the natural rampart of that extraordinary body of waters which, at some remote epoch, must have filled the space now forming the grazing grounds of Venezuela, as attested by the nature of the soil and the organic remains found imbedded in the clay.
I noticed at Ortiz the same trap formation of the Morros, with extensive beds of basaltic slate protruding through the sides of the hills. Entire columns of this slate, varying from four to five feet in length by six inches diameter, are used in the village for paving the thresholds of houses, their quadrangular form adapting them perfectly for this purpose without any additional labor after being detached from the rock. The action of the waters during the untold lapse of ages, or perhaps the irruptions of the sea itself when it beat against the sides of the hills, has caused the partial disintegration of the rock in many places, and scattered the debris far and wide over the surrounding country. Nevertheless, vegetation seemed nowhere affected in the least by this vast accumulation of loose stones; on the contrary, wherever it was favored by the depressions of the ground, trees of large dimensions, noted for hardness and durability, sprang up, forming dense forests on either side of the road. Foremost in the long catalogue of splendid timber trees of Venezuela, we found there growing in great perfection the Vera, or Lignum Vitæ—Zigophylum arboreum—the wood of which is so hard that it turns the edge of the best-tempered tools; breaking or splitting it seems equally impossible, on account of the interweaving of its fibres, which cross each other in diagonal layers. This tree has a wide range over the country, especially near the sea-coast, which circumstance renders it extremely useful in the construction of wharves, as well as for the keels of ships; the attacks of the teredo or seaworm are futile upon the iron network of its fibres, on which account it can remain under water for an indefinite period and eventually become petrified. The useful Guayacan or guaiacum of the arts, a nearly allied species of this tree, is also found here in the greatest abundance; unfortunately it is too short to be employed for the same purposes as the former; it finds, however, numerous applications in naval construction, especially for blocks and pulleys for the rigging of vessels. Turners employ it likewise for various articles requiring extreme hardness and a close grain.
The Alcornoque, a most beautiful tree, somewhat resembling the American elm, and scarcely inferior to the foregoing, raises here its graceful head above the rest, affording the cattle a permanent shade even during the driest seasons. It must not be confounded, however, with the well-known Spanish oak—Quercus suber—which yields the cork of commerce. It is largely employed in the Llanos in the construction of houses and fences. Braziletto wood—Cesalpinia braziletto—so celebrated for its beautiful dye, is so abundant here also, that all the fences at Ortiz and Parapara are made of this valuable dyewood.
The list of useful trees peculiar to this region could be extended beyond the limits of this chapter, were it not for the fear of taxing the patience of my reader with an abstract nomenclature. I cannot pass unnoticed, however, two other trees of no less importance to the natives, on account of their timber and medicinal properties; these are the Tacamahaca—Elaphrium tomentosum—and the tree that yields the precious balsam of copaiva—Copaifera officinalis. By making incisions in the trunk and branches of both these trees, a resinous fluid, possessing great healing powers when applied to wounds and other ailments of the flesh, is obtained in great abundance and collected in tin cans placed under the incisions. The former is particularly abundant in the province of Guayana, where it attains to great dimensions. Its resin, an opaque, lemon-colored substance resembling wax, is very fragrant, and when mixed with that of Caraña or Algarroba, forms excellent torches which burn with great brilliancy, and emit a delicious odor. The bark is also remarkable as affording a material similar to that employed by the North American Indians in the construction of their canoes, and used similarly by their brethren of the Orinoco for their light pirogues. With this object the Indian separates the bark without breaking, and cutting it of the required dimensions, proceeds to join the extremities by means of bejucos or slender vines, filling the interstices with a little moist clay to throw off the water; the whole is then well bound with stronger vines, and a couple or more sticks are affixed between the borders of the pirogue to prevent its collapsing when launched into the broad stream.
CHAPTER III.
THE LLANOS.
We left Ortiz as usual, very early the next morning, stumbling here and there amidst the mass of loose stones which paved the way all along the winding bed of the quebrada. In proportion as we advanced on our route, the hills decreased in size, while the loose stones seemed to increase in quantity. The splendid groves of hardy and balsamiferous trees, which near Ortiz formed an almost impenetrable forest, gradually became less imposing in appearance, until they were replaced by thickets of thorny bushes, chiefly composed of several species of mimosas, with a delicate and feathery foliage. The traveller accustomed to the shade of a luxuriant vegetation, and to the sight of cultivated valleys, is struck by the rapid diminution of the former, and the total disappearance of the latter, as he emerges from the Galeras of Ortiz: yet he is somewhat compensated by the almost overpowering perfume shed by masses of the canary-colored blossoms with which these shrubs are loaded, from the