We set off, therefore, without anxiety, either keeping alongside our guide or following close at his heels; now galloping along the borders of a marsh, now plunging through places where I should have expected to be smothered, had I not trusted to his experience to lead the way. I am afraid to say how many miles we covered without pulling rein. Our hardy steeds requiring no food till the end of the day’s journey, we only stopped for a few minutes by the side of a pool to allow them to drink, and then went on again.
Towards nightfall we arrived at another farm, very similar to the one we had left. The padre complained much of the fatigue of riding at a rate to which he had been so long unaccustomed. Even the doctor declared that he had no wish to travel the same distance another day. Our guide laughed at their complaints, observing that they were welcome to rest as long as they liked. He looked with more respect at me, as I had endured the fatigue better than my companions.
During the evening he told me that some of the men at the farm were going out next morning to catch fish; and, should I wish it, I might accompany them, as they would return before the time we had fixed for setting out. I gladly accepted the offer; as did the doctor, who was curious to see the mode of fishing adopted by those sons of the desert.
We accordingly rode forth, with our llañero, Pablo, as guide—the servants having set out some time before. We overtook them just as they had arrived at a large pond—or lake, rather—surrounded by reeds, with a few trees scattered here and there in the neighbourhood. They had driven before them a small herd of horses and mules, many of which appeared to be broken-down animals, such as I should not have supposed were to be found on the llaños. As we approached the pond, we saw several heads, resembling those of large serpents, just lifted above the surface; and now and then I caught sight of a huge, thick-bodied, snake-like creature gliding through the water, seven or eight feet in length.
“What are they?” I asked of Pablo.
“The fish we are going to catch,” he answered.
“Fish, my friend, they really are,” observed the doctor, “though known as gymnoti, or electric eels; and truly glad I am that I came to see them caught.”
The men were armed with harpoons and long slender rods. They now collected the horses and mules, and with loud shouts drove them into the lake. The combined effect of the horses’ hoofs and the men’s shrieks was, that numbers of the hideous-looking gymnoti issued from the mud in which they lay hid and came to the surface of the water, when they simultaneously made a dash at the unfortunate animals swimming and floundering about. The scene was a most extraordinary one. Several of the horses, being struck by these electric eels, succumbed to the violence of the invisible strokes which they were receiving from all sides, and disappeared beneath the water; others, with manes erect and eyeballs wild with pain, strove to escape from their enemies, but were driven back again by the Indians with their long rods; while several of the gymnoti, approaching the shore, were harpooned and dragged to land. The livid, yellow eels, like great water-snakes, swam after the unfortunate horses which were attempting to make their way to the opposite shore. But in a short time I observed that the animals appeared less alarmed; they no longer erected their manes, while their eyes expressed less pain and terror. The eels, at the same time, instead of following them, swam slowly towards the shore, when they, like those first caught, were harpooned, and, by a line fastened to the weapon, jerked on to the bank.
The doctor observed that they had lost much of their electric force; also, that the natives took care that the lines should not get wet. I wished to try my hand in catching one of the creatures, but they warned me
