Down the Orinoco in a Canoe

by Santiago Pérez Triana

We would sit listening to the even stroke of the paddles on the sides of the canoe and the drowsy sing-song of the men.

Frequently, towards sundown, we heard the deep note of tigers in the forest, and always the confused uproar of a thousand animals, frogs, crickets, birds, ushering in the night.

Besides alligators and wild-boar, the only other large animals which we frequently saw were the harmless tapirs.

Snakes are not abundant on the Vichada, yet it was on the shores of that river that we came to quite close quarters with a water-snake of the boa constrictor species. The reptile was found coiled not far from our halting-place. Raoul at once fired his fowling-piece at short range, blinding and wounding it. He then discharged the five bullets of his revolver into the snake, and the men completed the work, beating it with their paddles. When stretched out, it measured some 16 feet in length, and was of corresponding thickness.

These snakes, though not poisonous, are dangerous if hungry. They lurk at the drinking-places, and when a young calf, deer, or any other small animal comes within reach, they coil themselves round it and strangle it. They devour their prey slowly, and then fall into a sleep, which is said to last for several days.

In all probability, the snake we had killed must have been at the end of one of these periods. Much to our astonishment, notwithstanding bullets and blows, the snake began to move in the direction of our hammocks. Had this not been seen in time, it might possibly have coiled itself around some unwary sleeper. More blows were administered, and this time the animal seemed quite dead. However, it managed to roll into the river, and on striking the water appeared to revive.

This was our only meeting face to face with a denizen of these forests and rivers, and I can truly say we longed for no closer acquaintance with them.

For obvious reasons of prudence, we soon made up our minds never to pitch our night camp on beaches easy of access to the Indians settled along the shores, but during the day we would frequently halt at their settlements, and this enabled us to see a good deal of their mode of life and peculiarities.

We found the tribes docile and friendly, rather inclined to be industrious in their way than otherwise.

The Indians of the Vichada basin are the bakers, if I may so call them, of that great region. The bread which they prepare is made from the mañoc, or yuca, root, which grows in plenty along the banks of rivers and streams. There are two kinds of mañoc, one sweet and harmless, the other bitter and poisonous, yet it is from this latter kind that the casabe is prepared. The root, varying in length from 2 to 3 feet, with a thickness of from 1 to 3 inches, is grated on specially-prepared boards of very hard wood. Thus a whitish pulp is obtained, which is then compressed in a most primitive manner. A hollow cylinder, made of matting of coarse and pliant straw, varying in length from 4 to 6, and sometimes 8, feet, and in diameter from 5 inches upwards, is filled with the pulp, sausage-wise. The cylinder is then hung from the branch of a tree, or a beam conveniently upraised on a frame; it is then stretched and twisted from below. The juice of the pulp flows through the mesh of the matting. When all the juice has been extracted, the pulp is emptied into large wooden basins, and is soaked in water, which is run off, the operation being repeated several times. The poisonous element, soluble in water, is thus eliminated, and the pulp is ready. It is then spread on a slab of stone, thin and perfectly even, called budare, which stands over a fire. The casabe is soon baked, generally in round cakes from 12 to 18 inches in diameter, and from half an inch to an inch in thickness. After baking it is stored in special baskets, called mapires, where it can be kept for months, as it stands all weathers and is impervious to moisture. It has the taste and the consistency of sawdust, and hunger must be very keen for any novice to relish the food. Yet it is most nutritious, and after a while replaces biscuit and bread, especially when these are not to be found! Not only the Indians, but even the white men, or those who call themselves civilized in that vast region, use casabe exclusively. Wheat flour is soon spoiled in that hot, damp atmosphere, where there are no facilities for protecting it against moisture and vermin, and though corn might be abundantly produced, there are no mills to grind the meal. Population is so scarce, and the few inhabitants are so far apart, that it would not pay to set up the necessary machinery. Nature seems to overwhelm man, who drifts back easily into primitive conditions of being.