My father at once agreed to this; indeed, the valley, though it had its attractions, was not the place we should have wished to live in for any length of time. Unless actually tracked, we were not likely to be discovered, as the opposite heights were inaccessible, and we were completely hidden, owing to the form of the rocks and the overhanging trees, from any one passing on the hills above us. We thus considered that we need not apprehend danger during the few hours it was necessary to remain encamped on the spot. There was an abundance of grass, too, for our horses and mules; and the venison we had brought with us was provision sufficient for a couple of days at least.
I have so often described our night-encampments that I need not mention the arrangements we made on the present occasion. I was much struck by the romantic beauty of the scene: the cascade in the distance; the rapid stream rushing and foaming below us; the lofty mountains rising in front, and the rich vegetation which clothed the cliffs behind; the huts nestling under the trees; the blazing fire, surrounded by our party; the animals grazing on the green turf which carpeted the ground. There was sufficient danger to create some excitement, and yet not enough to prevent us from enjoying our supper and entering into an animated conversation. The padre and the doctor chiefly engaged in it, and afforded us much amusement; Kanimapo also occasionally took a part. We were speaking of the monkeys of the country, some of which possess wonderful intelligence; and the padre described one which had learned to sit at table and use a knife and fork, and would drink wine out of a cup, and bow to the company.
“Have you ever heard of the salvaje, or wild man of the woods,—who builds a house for himself, and sometimes carries off people to dwell with him when he wants companionship, and occasionally eats them if he is hungry?” said the padre.
“Has anybody seen him?” asked the doctor; “for until I see him I shall refuse to believe in his existence.”
“I cannot say that I ever saw him,” answered the padre; “but I have known people who have found the traces of his feet, the toes of which are turned backwards; and others have caught sight of him peeping from among the boughs of a tree.”
“Who can doubt about him?” exclaimed the Indian, who had hitherto remained silent. “My people, and those who dwell on the upper waters of the Orinoco to the ocean on the north, know very well all about him. Some call him the achi, others the vasatri, or great devil; and he is exactly like a big man, only covered with dark hair.”
The doctor burst into a fit of laughter. “If you caught him you would find your man of the woods turn out to be a huge bear, whose feet somewhat resemble those of a man. I have never heard of a large monkey in this country—though, of course, such may exist in regions unexplored.”
“I am afraid, doctor, you are very sceptical,” observed the padre.
“Not at all, my friend,” he replied; “I am simply, as a philosopher, bound not to believe unless I have sufficient evidence of a fact: and in this case it appears to me that such evidence is not forthcoming. For instance, as to the fact of a great flood which once covered the earth, independent of the statement made by Scripture—”