must have their skins; and the venison will not be much the worse for the way it has been killed.”
We both fired, and the pumas rolled over, struggling in the agonies of death.
“We must now secure the venison,” cried the doctor, leading the way down the precipitous side of the valley. Tim and I followed him, Candela soon afterwards joining us; and we were quickly engaged in the not over-pleasant operation of cutting up the deer and skinning the pumas. As soon as we had secured the skins of the wild beasts, and the best joints from the deer, we loaded the doctor’s mule with them,—as he volunteered to give it up for the purpose, and to proceed with us on foot.
Though game was abundant, our guide did not consider it safe for us to remain in the valley. We had still some hours of daylight; and before we could hope to rest in safety, we had, he told us, many mountain-heights and deep valleys to traverse.
Chapter Seven.
Paramos described—Suffer from want of water—Reach a stream—Encamp—Indian legends—A capybara—Enemies in the neighbourhood—Ascend a steep mountain—Descend and reach a beautiful valley—Take up our abode in a magnificent cavern—Explore the cavern—Strange birds—Kanimapo shows us another cavern—Constructs a rope-bridge—Hazardous passage—Kill a jaguar and capture two deer—Tim and Chumbo appear—Chumbo’s adventure with king-vultures—Norah and Kathleen in danger from a jaguar—Saved by Kanimapo—Good news—Preparations for our departure.
The fresh air of that elevated region—a contrast to the heavy, damp atmosphere of the plain below—so revived our spirits and strengthened our muscles, that all were eager to push on.
We were, it must be remembered, travelling over a series of mountain-heights forming a chain considerably to the eastward of the true Cordilleras, which are of much greater elevation; but even here the cold on the more lofty mountains is excessive, as it is in some of the valleys between them. These valleys are uninhabitable deserts known as paramos, in which no human being can exist without keeping in unceasing and violent motion. No artificial means appears sufficient to sustain life while a person is exposed to their chilling atmosphere; the strongest spirits have no effect—and, indeed, increase the direful consequences. They are usually long deep valleys, so shut in by neighbouring heights that scarcely a single ray of the sun sheds its genial influence through them. If a person attempts to remain in them unsheltered at night, death will certainly overtake him. Some of them, however, are so extensive that it requires two or three days to cross them. To enable this to be done, small houses have been erected at certain distances, in which cooking utensils, wood for firing, and other articles of convenience, are kept for the accommodation of travellers; as well as stabling for their mules. But to remain in a paramo during the night, even though thus protected, is often a painful ordeal. Only for two or three months of the year—November, December, and January—are they inhabitable by human beings; and it is during those months alone that the huts can be erected or the fuel stored for the remainder of the year.