The Young Llanero: A Story of War and Wild Life in Venezuela

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Having climbed up the rise I have mentioned, we went on as before by the side of the stream, the ground being of a uniform level. As we looked back, the opening of the cavern appeared greatly contracted, the distant light of day forming a strange contrast to the darkness which here surrounded us. The roof now became lower, the sides contracted to little more, perhaps, than forty or fifty feet; while the cries of the birds became more and more shrill. Our Indian guide, though he had shown his bravery on many occasions, seemed unwilling to go much farther; but the doctor urged him to make the attempt, promising to defend him against all evil spirits which we might encounter. While he was speaking, the light attracted some of the birds, which in their eagerness flew towards us; and the doctor and I managed to knock down two, greatly to his delight.

The character of the cavern remained the same, and though our curiosity prompted us to try and reach the end, we began to consider that it would take us a long time to do so, and that our torches must shortly burn done. The same idea had occurred to Kanimapo, who again begged the doctor to return, warning him of the danger we ran in attempting to make our way in the dark over the uneven ground.

“You are right, my friend,” answered the doctor. I agreed with him also, and turning our faces to the entrance we retraced our steps.

Before our eyes became dazzled by the light of day, we saw on the outside of the grotto the water of the river, sparkling amid the foliage of the trees which shaded it. It was like a picture placed in the distance, the mouth of the cavern serving as a frame.

We were welcomed by our friends, who had become somewhat anxious at our long absence; and Gerald, after expatiating on the wonders we had seen, acknowledged that he was glad to get beyond the hearing of the hoarse cries of the birds.

As we seated ourselves by the side of the rivulet in front of the cavern, the doctor examined the birds we had killed; and calling to the Indian, he made inquiries as to what he knew about them. He answered that in another part of the country, where a similar cavern exists inhabited by the same birds, they are called guacharos; that in that other cavern—the cave of Caripe, as he called it—thousands of birds exist, and that the Indians take the young birds for the sake of the oil which they contain. They enter it once a year, armed with long poles, with which they destroy all the nests they can reach; when the old ones, hovering about their heads, attempt to defend their broods, uttering the most terrible cries. The young birds which are thus killed are immediately opened; and the fat being taken out, it is melted in pots of clay over fires lighted at the entrance of the cave. During the oil harvest, as the Indians call that time, they build huts with palm-leaves, in which they live till they have melted down the fat. It is half liquid, transparent, without any smell, and so pure that it may be kept above a year without becoming rancid.

The race of birds would become extinct, were not the natives afraid of entering into the depths of the cavern; as also because there are other and smaller caverns, inaccessible to the hunters, inhabited by colonies of birds from which the larger cavern is peopled. These birds are of the size of ordinary fowls; their mouths resemble those of goat-suckers, and their appearance is somewhat that of small vultures; but, unlike the goat-suckers, they live entirely on fruits of a hard, dry character—and such fruits only were found in the crops of the birds we killed. The natives believe that the seeds found in the birds’ crops are a specific against intermittent fevers, and these are therefore carefully collected and sent to the low regions where such fevers prevail.

The doctor was delighted with the information he had obtained, and declared that, for the sake of it, he would have been ready to undergo ten times as much fatigue and danger as that to which he had been subjected.

We were all well pleased with the romantic beauty of the scenery, but my father was not quite satisfied that the place was secure from attack. Should we be betrayed, there was nothing to prevent our enemies from following us; and there was no position in which we could defend ourselves against them.

Kanimapo confessed that such was the case; but he added,—“There is a spot at hand to which I can lead you, where you will be secure from a whole army of Gothos. It is separated from this by a deep valley, the cliffs above which no armed men can climb. In the side of the mountain there is a cavern, very much smaller than this, but which has the advantage of being perfectly dry, as the sun shines directly into it. There, should enemies approach, we might take refuge, and remain without fear of being reached till they have taken their departure.”