tv&w
!
*
A W®WE>3ES(D3iOIPT
See page 277
lUblished b\ Ji.Fen.awes , Ludrate Sti'eet.
WANDERINGS
SOUTH AMERICA
THE
NORTH-WEST OF THE UNITED STATES,
AND THE ANTILLES,
IN THE YEARS 1812, 1816, 1820, & 1824,
WITH
ORIGINAL INSTRUCTIONS
FOR THE PERFECT PRESERVATION OF BIRDS, &c.
FOR
CABINETS OF NATURAL HISTORY.
BY CHARLES WATERTON, ESQ.
FOURTH EDITION.
LONDON :
B. FELLOWES, LUDGATE STREET.
MDCCC XXXIX.
LONDON
: — RICHARD CLAY, PRINTER,
BREAD STREET HILL.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
I offer this book of •“ Wanderings ” with a hesitating
hand. It has little merit, and must make its way through
the world as well as it can. It will receive many a jostle
as it goes along, and perhaps is destined to add one more
to the number of slain, in the field of modern criticism.
But if it fall, it may still, in death, be useful to me ; for,
should some accidental rover take it up, and, in turning
over its pages, imbibe the idea of going out to explore
Guiana, in order to give the world an enlarged description
of that noble country, I shall say, “fortem ad fortia misi,”
and demand the armour ; that is, I shall lay claim to a
certain portion of the honours he will receive, upon the
plea, that I was the first mover of his discoveries ; for, as
Ulysses sent Achilles to Troy, so I sent him to Guiana. I
intended to have written much more at length ; but days,
and months, and years, have passed away, and nothing
has been done. Thinking it very probable that I shall
never have patience enough to sit down and write a full
account of all I saw and examined in those remote wilds,
I give up the intention of doing so, and send forth this
IV
PREFACE.
account of my “Wanderings,” just as it was written at
the time.
If critics are displeased with it in its present form, I beg
to observe, that it is not totally devoid of interest, and that
it contains something useful. Several of the unfortunate
gentlemen who went out to explore the Congo, were
thankful for the instructions they found in it ; and Sir
Joseph Banks, on sending back the journal, said in his
letter, “ I return your journal, with abundant thanks for
the very instructive lesson you have favoured us with this
morning, which far excelled, in real utility, every thing I
have hitherto seen.” And in another letter he says, “ I
hear with particular pleasure your intention of resuming
your interesting travels, to which natural history lias
already been so much indebted.” And again, “ I am sorry
you did not deposit some part of your last harvest of birds
in the British Museum, that your name might become
familiar to naturalists, and your unrivalled skill in pre¬
serving birds, be made known to the public.” And again,
“You certainly have talents to set forth a book, which
will improve and extend materially the bounds of natural
science.”
Sir Joseph never read the third adventure. Whilst I
was engaged in it, death robbed England of one of her
most valuable subjects, and deprived the Royal Society of
its brightest ornament.
WANDERINGS
IN
SOUTH AMERICA.
- “nec herba, nec latens in asperis
Radix fefellit me locis.”
In the month of April, 1812, I left the town of first
Stabroek, to travel through the wilds of Demerara - 1 —
and Essequibo, a part of ci-devant Dutch Guiana,
in South America.
The chief objects in view, were to collect a quantity its object,
of the strongest Wourali j3oison • and to reach the
inland frontier fort of Portuguese Guiana.
It would be a tedious journey for him who wishes
to travel through these wilds, to set out from Sta¬
broek on foot. The sun would exhaust him in his
attempts to wade through the swamps, and the
mosquitos at night would deprive him of every
hour of sleep.
The road for horses runs parallel to the river, but
it extends a very little wray, and even ends before
the cultivation of the plantation ceases.
The only mode then that remains, is to proceed
by water ; and when you come to the high lands,
WANDERINGS IN
o
,w
FIRST
JOURNEY.
Face of
the coun¬
try.
you may make your way through the forest on foot ,
or continue your route on the river.
After passing the third island in the river Deme-
rara, there are few plantations to be seen, and those
not joining on to one another, but separated by large
tracts of wood.
The Loo is the last where the sugar-cane is growr-
ing. The greater part of its negroes have just been
ordered to another estate ; and ere a few months
shall have elapsed, all signs of cultivation will be
lost in underwood.
Higher up stand the sugar-works of Amelia’s
Waard, solitary and abandoned ! and after passing
these there is not a ruin to inform the traveller, that
either coffee or sugar has been cultivated.
O
From Amelia’s Waard, an unbroken range of
forest covers each bank of the river, saving here arid
there where a hut discovers itself, inhabited by free
people of colour, with a rood or two of bared ground
about it ; or where the wood-cutter has erected him¬
self a dwelling, and cleared a few acres for pasturage.
Sometimes you see level ground on each side of you,
for two or three hours at a stretch ; at other times, a
gently sloping hill presents itself; and often, on
turning a point, the eye is pleased with the contrast
of an almost perpendicular height jutting into the
water. The trees put you in mind of an eternal spring,
with summer and autumn kindly blended into it.
Here you may see a sloping extent of noble trees,
whose foliage displays a charming variety of every
shade, from the lightest to the darkest green and
SOUTH AMERICA.
3
purple. The tops of some are crowned with bloom
of the loveliest hue ; while the boughs of others bend
with a profusion of seeds and fruits.
Those whose heads have been bared by time, or
blasted by the thunder-storm, strike the eye, as a
mournful sound does the ear in music ; and seem to
beckon to the sentimental traveller to stop a moment
or two, and see that the forests which surround him,
like men and kingdoms, have their periods of mis¬
fortune and decay.
The first rocks of any considerable size, that are
observed on the side of the river, are at a place
called Saba, from the Indian word, which means a
stone. They appear sloping down to the water’s
edge, not shelvy, but smooth, and their exuberances
rounded off, and, in some places, deeply furrowed,
as though they had been worn with continual floods
of water.
There are patches of soil up and down, and the
huge stones amongst them produce a pleasing and
novel effect. You see a few coffee-trees of a fine
luxuriant growth ; and nearly on the top of Saba,
stands the house of the postholder.
He is appointed by government to give in his
report to the protector of the Indians, of what is
going on amongst them ; and to prevent suspicious
people from passing up the river.
When the Indians assemble here, the stranger
may have an opportunity of seeing the Aborigines,
dancing to the sound of their country music, and
painted in their native style. They will shoot their
B 2
FIRST
JOURNEY.
Rucks.
Rest*
dence of
the post*
holder.
4
FIRST
JOURNEY
Trees.
WANDERINGS IN
arrows for him with an unerring aim, and send the
- poisoned dart, from the blow-pipe, true to its desti¬
nation : and here he may often view all the different
shades, from the red savage to the white man ; and
from the white man to the sootiest son of Africa.
Beyond this post there are no more habitations
of white men, or free people of colour.
In a country, so extensively covered with wood
as this is, having every advantage that a tropical
sun, and the richest mould, in many places, can give
to vegetation, it is natural to look for trees of very
large dimensions. But it is rare to meet with them
above six yards in circumference. If larger have
ever existed, they have fallen a sacrifice either to
the axe or to fire.
If, however, they disappoint you in size, they
make ample amends in height. Heedless, and
bankrupt in all curiosity, must he be, wdio can
journey on without stopping to take a view of the
towering mora. Its topmost branch, when naked
with age, or dried by accident, is the favourite resort
of the toucan. Many a time has this singular bird
felt the shot faintly strike him, from the gun of the
fowler beneath, and owed his life to the distance
betwixt them.
The trees which form these far-extending wilds,
are as useful as they are ornamental. It would take
a volume of itself to describe them.
The green-heart, famous for its hardness and
durability ; the hackea, for its toughness ; the
ducalabali, surpassing mahogany ; the ebony and
SOUTH AMERICA.
5
letter-wood, vieing with the choicest woods of the first
old world $ the locust-tree, yielding copal ; and the J0UR— -
hayawa and olou-trees, furnishing a sweet-smelling-
resin, are all to be met with in the forest, betwixt
the plantations and the rock Saba.
Beyond this rock, the country has been little ex¬
plored ; but it is very probable that these, and a vast
collection of other kinds, and possibly many new
species, are scattered up and down, in all directions,
through the swamps, and hills, and savannas of
ci-devant Dutch Guiana.
On viewing the stately trees around him, the
naturalist will observe many of them bearing leaves,
and blossoms, and fruit, not their own.
The wild fig-tree, as large as a common English The wild
^ ® . fig-tree.
apple-tree, often rears itself from one of the thick
branches at the top of the mora ; and when its fruit
is ripe, to it the birds resort for nourishment. It
was to an undigested seed, passing through the body
of the bird which had perched on the mora, that the
fig-tree first owed its elevated station there. The
sap of the mora raised it into full bearing ; but now,
in its turn, it is doomed to contribute a portion of
its own sap and juices towards the growth of different
species of vines, the seeds of which, also, the birds
deposited on its branches. These soon vegetate,
and bear fruit in great quantities ; so what with
their usurpation of the resources of the fig-tree, and
the fig-tree of the mora, the mora, unable to sup¬
port a charge which nature never intended it should,
languishes and dies under its burden $ and then the
6
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY.
The bush
rope.
fig-tree, and its usurping progeny of vines, receiving
no more succour from their late foster parent, droop
and perish in their turn.
A vine called the bush-rope by the wood-cutters,
on account of its use in hauling out the heaviest
timber, has a singular appearance in the forests of
Demerara. Sometimes you see it nearly as thick as
a man's body, twisted like a corkscrew round the
tallest trees, and rearing its head high above their
tops. At other times, three or four of them, like
strands in a cable, join tree and tree, and branch
and branch together. Others, descending from on
high, take root as soon as their extremity touches
the ground, and appear like shrouds and stays sup¬
porting the mainmast of a line of battle ship ; while
others, sending out parallel, oblique, horizontal, and
perpendicular shoots in all directions, put you in
mind of what travellers call a matted forest. Often¬
times a tree, above a hundred feet high, uprooted by
the whirlwind, is stopped in its fall by these amazing
cables of nature ; and hence it is that you account
for the phenomenon of seeing trees, not only vege¬
tating, but sending forth vigorous shoots, though
far from their perpendicular, and their trunks in¬
clined to every degree from the meridian to the
horizon.
Their heads remain firmly supported by the bush-
rope ; many of their roots soon refix themselves in
the earth, and frequently a strong shoot will sprout
out perpendicularly from near the root of the re¬
clined trunk, and in time become a fine tree. No
SOUTH AMERICA.
7
grass grows under the trees ; and few weeds, except first
m the swamps. -
The high grounds are pretty clear of underwood,
and with a cutlass to sever the small bush-ropes, it
is not difficult walking among the trees.
The soil, chiefly formed by the fallen leaves and Soils,
decayed trees, is very rich and fertile in the valleys.
On the hills, it is little better than sand. The rains
seem to have carried away, and swept into the valleys,
every particle which nature intended to have formed
a mould.
Four-footed animals are scarce, considering how Four-
very thinly these forests are inhabited by men. animals.
Several species of the animal, commonly called
tiger, though in reality it approaches nearer to the
leopard, are found here ; and twro of their diminu¬
tives, named tiger cats. The tapir, the lobba, and
deer, afford excellent food, and chiefly frequent the
swamps and low ground, near the sides of the river
and creeks.
In stating that four-footed animals are scarce, the
peccari must be excepted. Three or four hundred
of them herd together, and traverse the wilds in all
directions, in quest of roots and fallen seeds. The
Indians mostly shoot them with poisoned arrows.
When wounded, they run about one hundred and
fifty paces ; they then drop, and make wholesome food.
The red monkey, erroneously called the baboon,
is heard oftener than it is seen ; while the common
brown monkey, the bisa, and sacawinki, rove from
tree to tree, and amuse the stranger as he journeys on.
8
WANDERINGS IN
first A species of the polecat, and another of the fox,
JOURNEY. 1 _ t T /. •
are destructive to the Indian’s poultry ; while the
opossum, the guana, and salempenta, afford him a
delicious morsel.
The small ant-bear, and the large one, remarkable
for its long, broad, bushy tail, are sometimes seen
on the tops of the wood ants’ nests ; the armadillas
bore in the sand hills, like rabbits in a warren ; and
the porcupine is now and then discovered in the
trees over your head.
The sloth. This, too, is the native country of the sloth. His
looks, his gestures, and his cries, all conspire to en¬
treat you to take pity on him. These are the only
weapons of defence which nature hath given him.
While other animals assemble in herds, or in pairs
range through these boundless wilds, the sloth is
solitary, and almost stationary 5 he cannot escape
from you. It is said, his piteous moans make the
tiger relent, and turn out of the way. Do not then
level your gun at him, or pierce him with a poisoned
arrow ; — he has never hurt one living creature.
A few leaves, and those of the commonest and
coarsest kind, are all he asks for his support. On
comparing him with other animals, you would say
that you could perceive deficiency, deformity, and
superabundance in his composition. He has no
cutting teeth, and though four stomachs, he still
wants the long intestines of ruminating animals.
He has only one inferior aperture, as in birds. He
has no soles to his feet, nor has he the power of
moving his toes separately. His hair is flat, and
SOUTH AMERICA.
9
puts you in mind of grass withered by the wintry first
f , J & J , „ *, JOURNE
blast. His legs are too short 5 they appear detormed
by the manner in which they are joined to the body ;
and when he is on the ground, they seem as if only
calculated to be of use in climbing trees. He has
forty-six ribs, while the elephant has only forty ;
and his claws are disproportionably long. Were
you to mark down, upon a graduated scale, the dif¬
ferent claims to superiority amongst the four-footed
animals, this poor ill-formed creature’s claim would
be the last upon the lowest degree.
Demerara yields to no country in the world in her Birds,
wonderful and beautiful productions of the feathered
race. Here the finest precious stones are far sur¬
passed by the vivid tints which adorn the birds. The
naturalist may exclaim, that nature has not known
where to stop in forming new species, and painting
her requisite shades. Almost every one of those
singular and elegant birds described by Buffon as
belonging to Cayenne, are to be met with in Deme¬
rara; but it is only by an indefatigable naturalist
that they are to be found.
The scarlet curlew breeds in innumerable quantities
in the muddy islands on the coasts of Pomauron ;
the egrets and crabiers in the same place. They
resort to the mud-flats at ebbing water, while thou¬
sands of sandpipers and plovers, with here and there
a spoonbill and flamingo, are seen amongst them.
The pelicans go farther out to sea, but return at sun¬
down to the courada-trees. The humming-birds are
chiefly to be found near the flowers at which each
10
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
The
vulture.
The
vampire.
Snakes.
of the species of the genus is wont to feed. The pie,
the gallinaceous, the columbine, and passerine tribes,
resort to the fruit-bearing trees.
You never fail to see the common vulture where
there is carrion. In passing up the river there was
an opportunity of seeing a pair of the king of the
vultures ; they were sitting on the naked branch of
a tree, with about a dozen of the common ones with
them. A tiger had killed a goat the day before; he
had been driven away in the act of sucking the blood,
and not finding it safe or prudent to return, the goat
remained in the same place where he had killed it ;
it had begun to putrefy, and the vultures had arrived
that morning to claim the savoury morsel.
At the close of day, the vampires leave the hollow
trees, whither they had fled at the morning’s dawn,
and scour along the river’s banks in cpiest of prey.
On waking from sleep, the astonished traveller finds
his hammock all stained with blood. It is the vam¬
pire that hath sucked him. Not man alone, but
every unprotected animal, is exposed to his depre¬
dations ; and so gently does this nocturnal surgeon
draw the blood, that instead of being roused, the
patient is lulled into a still profounder sleep. There
are two species of vampire in Demerara, and both
suck living animals ; one is rather larger than the
common bat; the other measures above two feet
from wing to wing extended.
Snakes are frequently met with in the woods
betwixt the sea-coast and the rock Saba, chiefly
near the creeks and on the banks of the river. They
/
SOUTH AMERICA.
11
are large, beautiful, and formidable. The rattlesnake first
° ^ , JOURNEY.
seems partial to a tract of ground known by the “
name of Canal Number- three ; there the effects of
his poison will be long remembered.
The Camoudi snake has been killed from thirty
to forty feet long ; though not venomous, his size
renders him destructive to the passing animals. The
Spaniards in the Oroonoque positively affirm that he
grows to the length of seventy or eighty feet, and
that he will destroy the strongest and largest bull.
His name seems to confirm this ; there he is called
u matatoro,” which literally means “ bull-killer.”
Thus he may be ranked amongst the deadly snakes ;
for it comes nearly to the same thing in the end,
whether the victim dies by poison from the fangs,
which corrupts his blood and makes it stink hor¬
ribly, or whether his body be crushed to mummy,
and swallowed by this hideous beast.
The whipsnake of a beautiful changing green, and
the coral with alternate broad transverse bars of black
and red, glide from bush to bush, and may be handled
with safety; they are harmless little creatures.
The Labarri snake is speckled, of a dirty brown
colour, and can scarcely be distinguished from the
ground or stump on which he is coiled up ; he grows
to the length of about eight feet, and his bite often
proves fatal in a few minutes.
Unrivalled in his display of every lovely colour
of the rainbow, and unmatched in the effects of his
deadly poison, the counacouchi glides undaunted on,
sole monarch of these forests ; he is commonly known
12
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
Lizards.
Fish.
Insects.
by the name of the bush-master. Both man and
beast fly before him, and allow him to pursue an
undisputed path. He sometimes grows to the length
of fourteen feet.
A few small caimen, from two to twelve feet long,
may be observed now and then in passing up and
down the river; they just keep their heads above
the water, and a stranger would not know them from
a rotten stump.
Lizards of the finest green, brown, and copper
colour, from two inches to two feet and a half long,
are ever and anon rustling among the fallen leaves,
and crossing the path before you ; whilst the cha¬
meleon is busily employed in chasing insects round
the trunks of the neighbouring trees.
The fish are of many different sorts, and well-
tasted, but not, generally speaking, very plentiful.
It is probable that their numbers are considerably
thinned by the otters, which are much larger than
those of Europe. In going through the overflowed
savannas, which have all a communication with the
river, you may often see a dozen or two of them
sporting amongst the sedges before you.
This warm and humid climate seems particularly
adapted to the producing of insects ; it gives birth
to myriads, beautiful past description in their variety
of tints, astonishing in their form and size, and many
of them noxious in their qualities.
He whose eye can distinguish the various beauties
of uncultivated nature, and whose ear is not shut to
the wild sounds in the woods, will be delighted in
SOUTH AMERICA.
13
passing up the river Demerara. Every now and ■ first
then, the maam or tinamou sends forth one long J0URNEY
and plaintive whistle from the depth of the forest,
and then stops; whilst the yelping of the toucan,
and the shrill voice of the bird called pi-pi-yo, is
heard during the interval. The campanero never
fails to attract the attention of the passenger : at a
distance of nearly three miles, you may hear this
snow-white bird tolling every four or live minutes,
like the distant convent bell. From six to nine in
the morning, the forests resound with the mingled
cries and strains of the feathered race ; after this,
they gradually die away. From eleven to three all
nature is hushed as in a midnight silence, and scarce
a note is heard, saving that of the campanero and
the pi-pi-yo ; it is then that, oppressed by the solar
heat, the birds retire to the thickest shade, and wait
for the refreshing cool of evening.
At sundown the vampires, bats, and goat-suckers
dart from their lonely retreat, and skim along the
trees on the river’s bank. The different kinds of
frogs almost stun the ear with their hoarse and hollow¬
sounding croaking, while the owls and goat- suckers
lament and mourn all night long.
About two hours before daybreak, you will hear
the red monkey moaning as though in deep distress;
the houtou, a solitary bird, and only found in the
thickest recesses of the forest, distinctly articulates,
u houtou, houtou,” in a low and plaintive tone, an
hour before sunrise ; the maam whistles about the
same hour ; the liannaquoi, pataca, and maroudi
i
14
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNF.
announce his near approach to the eastern horizon,
- and the parrots and parroquets confirm his arrival
there.
The crickets chirp from sunset to sunrise, and
often during the day, when the weather is cloudy.
The beterouge is exceedingly numerous in these ex¬
tensive wilds, and not only man, but beasts and birds,
are tormented by it. Mosquitos are very rare after
you pass the third island in the Demerara, and
sand-flies but seldom appear.
Courteous reader, here thou hast the outlines of
an amazing landscape given thee ; thou wilt see that
the principal parts of it are but faintly traced, some
of them scarcely visible at all, and that the shades
are wholly wanting. If thy soul partakes of the
ardent flame which the persevering Mungo Park’s
did, these outlines will be enough for thee : they
will give thee some idea of what a noble country
this is ; and if thou hast but courage to set about
giving the world a finished picture of it, neither
materials to work on, nor colours to paint it in its
true shades, will be wanting to thee. It may ap¬
pear a difficult task at a distance ; but look close at
it, and it is nothing at all ; provided thou hast but
a quiet mind, little more is necessary, and the genius
which presides over these wilds will kindly help thee
through the rest. She will allow thee to slay the
fawn, and to cut down the mountain-cabbage for thy
support, and to select from every part of her domain'
whatever may be necessary for the work thou art
about ; but having killed a pair of doves in order to
SOUTH AMERICA.
15
enable thee to give mankind a true and proper first
description of them, thou must not destroy a third J0lTRNE-
through wantonness, or to show what a good marks¬
man thou art ; that would only blot the picture thou
art finishing, not colour it.
Though retired from the haunts of men, and even
without a friend with thee, thou wouldst not find it
solitary. The crowing of the hannaquoi will sound
in thine ears like the daybreak town clock; and the
wren and the thrush will join with thee in thy matin
hymn to thy Creator, to thank him for thy night’s
rest.
At noon the Genius will lead thee to the troelv,
one leaf of which will defend thee from both sun
and rain. And if, in the cool of the evening, thou
hast been tempted to stray too far from thy place of
abode, and art deprived of light to write down the
information thou hast collected, the fire-fly, which Thefire-
thou wilt see in almost every bush around thee, will
be thy candle. Hold it over thy pocket-book, in
any position which thou knowest will not hurt it, and
it will afford thee ample light. And when thou
hast done with it, put it kindly back again on the
next branch to thee. It will want no other reward
for its services.
When in thy hammock, should the thought of thy
little crosses and disappointments, in thy ups and
downs through life, break in upon thee, and throw
thee into a pensive mood, the owl will bear thee The owl.
company. She will tell thee that hard has been
her fate too; and at intervals, “ Whip-poor-Will,”
16
WANDERINGS IN
first and u Willy come go,” will take up the tale of
J?U_RNK\: sorrow. Ovid has told thee how the owl once
boasted the human form, and lost it for a very small
offence ; and were the poet alive now, he would
inform thee, that u Whip-poor- Will,” and (C Willy
come go,” are the shades of those poor African and
Indian slaves, who died worn out and brokenhearted.
They wail and cry, u Whip-poor- Will,” “ Willy
come go,” all night long j and often, when the
moon shines, you see them sitting on the green turf,
near the houses of those whose ancestors tore them
from the bosom of their helpless families, which all
probably perished through grief and want, after
their support was gone.
Simon’s About an hour above the rock of Saba, stands the
habitation of an Indian, called Simon, on the top
of a hill. The side next the river is almost perpen¬
dicular, and you may easily throw a stone over to
the opposite bank. Here there was an opportunity
of seeing man in his rudest state. The Indians who
frequented this habitation, though living in the
midst of woods, bore evident marks of attention to
their persons. Their hair was neatly collected, and
tied up in a knot ; their bodies fancifully painted
red, and the paint was scented with hayawa. This
gave them a gay and animated appearance. Some
of them had on necklaces, composed of the teeth
of wild boars slain in the chase ; many wore rings,
and others had an ornament on the left arm, midway
betwixt the shoulder and the elbow. At the close
of day, they regularly bathed in the river below ;
SOUTH AMERICA.
and the next morning seemed busy in renewing the
faded colours of their faces.
One day there came into the hut a form which
literally might be called the wild man of the woods.
On entering, he laid down a ball of wax which he
had collected in the forest. His hammock was all
ragged and torn; and his bow, though of good
wood, was without any ornament or polish ; u eru-
buit domino, cultior esse suo.” His face was mea
gre, his looks forbidding, and his whole appearance
neglected. His long black hair hung from his head
in matted confusion; nor had his body, to all ap¬
pearance, ever been painted. They gave him some
cassava bread and boiled fish, which he ate vora¬
ciously, and soon after left the hut. As he went
out, you could observe no traces in his countenance
or demeanour, which indicated that he was in the
least mindful of having been benefited by the society
he was just leaving.
The Indians said that he had neither wife, nor
child, nor friend. They had often tried to persuade
him to come and live amongst them.; but all was
of no avail. He went roving on, plundering the
wild bees of their honey, and picking up the fallen
nuts and fruits of the forest. When he fell in with
game, he procured fire from two sticks, and cooked
it on the spot. When a hut happened to be in his
way, he stepped in, and asked for something to eat,
and then months elapsed ere they saw him again.
They did not know what had caused him to be thus
unsettled ; he had been so for years ; nor did they
18
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST believe that even old age itself would change the
J0U— habits of this poor, harmless, solitary wanderer.
From Simon’s, the traveller may reach the large
fall, with ease, in four days.
The first falls that he meets are merely rapids,
scarce a stone appearing above the water in the
rainy season; and those in the bed of the river,
barely high enough to arrest the water’s course, and
by causing a bubbling, show that they are there.
With this small change of appearance in the
stream, the stranger observes nothing new till he
comes within eight or ten miles of the great fall.
Each side of the river presents an uninterrupted
range of wood, just as it did below. All the pro¬
ductions found betwixt the plantations and the rock
Saba, are to be met with here.
From Simon’s to the great fall, there are five
habitations of the Indians. Two of them close to
the river’s side ; the other three a little way in the
Indian forest. These habitations consist of from four to
habita¬
tions. eight huts, situated on about an acre of ground,
which they have cleared from the surrounding
woods. A few pappaw, cotton, and mountain
cabbage-trees, are scattered round them.
At one of these habitations, a small quantity of
Wouraii the wourali poison wTas procured. It was in a little
poison. x _ r
gourd. The Indian who had it, said that he had
killed a number of wild hogs with it, and two tapirs.
Appearances seemed to confirm what he said ; for
on one side it had been nearly taken out to the
bottom, at different times, which probably would
SOUTH AMERICA.
19
FIRST
JOURNEY.
not have been the case had the first or second trial
failed.
Its strength was proved on a middle-sized dog. its
He was wounded in the thigh, in order that there strength‘
might be no possibility of touching a vital part. In
three or four minutes he began to be affected, smelt
at every little thing on the ground around him, and
looked wistfully at the wounded part. Soon after
this he staggered, laid himself down, and never rose
more. He barked once, though not as if in pain.
His voice was low and weak; and in a second
attempt it quite failed him. He now put his head
betwixt his fore legs, and raising it slowly again, he
fell over on his side. His eye immediately became
fixed, and though his extremities every now and
then shot convulsively, he never showed the least
desire to raise up his head. His heart fluttered
much from the time he laid down, and at intervals
beat very strong ; then stopped for a moment or two,
and then beat again ; and continued faintly beating
several minutes after every other part of his body
seemed dead.
In a quarter of an hour after he had received the
poison he was quite motionless.
A few miles before you reach the great fall, and The great
which, indeed, is the only one which can be called
a fall, large balls of froth come floating past you.
The river appears beautifully marked with streaks
of foam, and on your nearer approach the stream is
whitened all over.
At first, you behold the fall rushing down a bed
C 2
20
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY,
of rocks, with a tremendous noise, divided into two
foamy streams, which, at their junction again, form
a small island covered with wood. Above this
island, for a short space, there appears but one
stream, all white with froth, and fretting and
boiling amongst the huge rocks which obstruct its
course.
Higher up it is seen dividing itself into a short
channel or two, and trees grow on the rocks which
caused its separation. The torrent, in many places,
has eaten deep into the rocks, and split them into
large fragments, by driving others against them.
The trees on the rocks are in bloom and vigour,
though their roots are half bared, and many of them
bruised and broken by the rushing waters.
This is the general appearance of the fall from
the level of the water below, to where the river is
smooth and quiet above. It must be remembered,
that this is during the periodical rains. Probably,
in the dry season, it puts on a very different appear¬
ance. There is no perpendicular fall of water of any
consequence throughout it, but the dreadful roaring
and rushing of the torrent, down a long, rocky, and
moderately sloping channel, has a line effect ; and
the stranger returns well pleased with what he has
seen. No animal, nor craft of any kind, could stem
this downward flood. In a few moments the first
would be killed, the second dashed in pieces.
The Indians have a path alongside of it, through
the forest, where prodigious crabwood trees grow.
Up this path they drag their canoes, and launch them
SOUTH AMERICA.
21
into the river above ; and on their return, bring them first
, . JOURNEY.
clown the same way. ~ -
About two hours below this fall, is the habitation Habita-
of an Acoway chief called Sinker man. At night you Acoway
hear the roaring of the fall from it. It is pleasantly
situated on the top of a sand-hill. At this place you
have the finest view the river Demerara affords :
three tiers of hills rise in slow gradation, one above
the other, before you, and present a grand and mag¬
nificent scene, especially to him who has been
accustomed to a level country.
Here, a little after midnight, on the first of May,
wTas heard a most strange and unaccountable noise ;
it seemed as though several regiments were engaged,
and musketry firing with great rapidity. The
Indians, terrified beyond description, left their ham¬
mocks, and crowded all together, like sheep at the
approach of the wolf. There were no soldiers
within three or four hundred miles. Conjecture was
of no avail, and all conversation next morning on the
subject was as useless and unsatisfactory as the dead
silence which succeeded to the noise.
He who wishes to reach the Macoushi country,
had better send his canoe over land from Sinker-
man’s to the Essequibo.
There is a pretty good path, and meeting a creek
about three quarters of the way, it eases the labour,
and twelve Indians will arrive with it in the
Essequibo in four days.
The traveller need not attend his canoe ; there is
a shorter and a better way. Half an hour below
22
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
The Esse-
quibo.
Sinkerman’s lie finds a little creek on the western
bank of the Demerara. After proceeding about a
couple of hundred yards up it, he leaves it, and pur¬
sues a west-north-west direction by land for the
Essequibo. The path is good, though somewhat
rugged with the roots of trees, and here and there
obstructed by fallen ones ; it extends more over level
ground than otherwise. There are a few steep
ascents and descents in it, with a little brook running
at the bottom of them ; but they are easily passed
over, and the fallen trees serve for a bridge.
You may reach the Essequibo with ease in a day
and a half ; and so matted and interwoven are the
tops of the trees above you, that the sun is not felt
once all the way, saving where the space which a
newly fallen tree occupied lets in his rays upon you.
The forest contains an abundance of wild hogs, lobbas,
acouries, powisses, maams, maroudis, and waracabas,
for your nourishment, and there are plenty of leaves to
cover a shed, whenever you are inclined to sleep.
The soil has three-fourths of sand in it, till you
come within half an hour’s walk of the Essequibo,
where you find a red gravel and rocks. In this retired
and solitary tract, nature’s garb, to all appearance,
has not been injured by fire, nor her productions
broken in upon by the exterminating hand of man.
Here the finest green-heart grows, and wallaba,
purple-heart, siloabali, sawari, buletre, tauronira, and
mora, are met with in vast abundance, far and near,
towering up in majestic grandeur, straight as pillars,
sixty or seventy feet high, without a knot or branch.
SOUTH AMERICA.
23
Traveller, forget for a little while the idea thou hast first
of wandering farther on, and stop and look at this -
grand picture of vegetable nature ; it is a reflection of
the crowd thou hast lately been in, and though a
silent monitor, it is not a less eloquent one on that
account. — See that noble purple-heart before thee !
Nature has been kind to it. Not a hole, not the
least oozing from its trunk, to show that its best days
are past. Vigorous in youthful blooming beauty, it
stands the ornament of these sequestered wilds, and
tacitly rebukes those base ones of thine own species,
who have been hardy enough to deny the existence
of Him who ordered it to flourish here.
Behold that one next to it ! — Hark ! how the
hammerings of the red-headed woodpecker resound
through its distempered boughs ! See what a
quantity of holes he has made in it, and how its
bark is stained with the drops which trickle down
from them. The lightning, too, has blasted one
side of it. Nature looks pale and wan in its leaves,
and her resources are nearly dried up in its extremi¬
ties ; its sap is tainted ; a mortal sickness, slow as a
consumption, and as sure in its consequences, has
long since entered its frame, vitiating and destroying
the wholesome juices there.
Step a few paces aside, and cast thine eye on that
remnant of a mora behind it. Best part of its
branches, once so high and ornamental, now lie on
the ground in sad confusion, one upon the other, all
shattered and fungus-grown, and a prey to millions
of insects, which are busily employed in destroying
24
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
them. One branch of it still looks healthy ! Will
it recover ? No, it cannot ; nature has already run
her course, and that healthy-looking branch is only
as a fallacious good symptom in him who is just
about to die of a mortification when he feels no more
pain, and fancies his distemper has left him ; it is as
the momentary gleam of a wintry sun’s ray close to
the western horizon. — See ! while we are speaking
a gust of wind has brought the tree to the ground,
and made room for its successor.
Come further on, and examine that apparently
luxuriant tauronira on thy right hand. It boasts a
verdure not its own; they are false ornaments it
wears ; the bush-rope and bird- vines have clothed it
from the root to its topmost branch. The succession
of fruit which it hath borne, like good cheer in the
houses of the great, has invited the birds to resort to
it, and they have disseminated beautiful, though
destructive, plants on its branches, which, like the
distempers vice brings into the human frame, rob it
of all its health and vigour ; they have shortened its
days, and probably in another year they will finally
kill it, long before nature intended that it should die.
Ere thou leavest this interesting scene, look on
the ground around thee, and see what every thing
here below must come to.
Behold that newly fallen wallaba ! The whirl¬
wind has uprooted it in its prime, and it has brought
down to the ground a dozen small ones in its fall.
Its bark has already begun to drop off ! And that
heart of mora close by it is fast yielding, in spite of
its firm, tough texture.
SOUTH AMERICA.
25
The tree which thou passedst but a little ago,
and which perhaps has laid over yonder brook for
years, can now hardly support itself, and in a few
months more it will have fallen into the water.
Put thy foot on that large trunk thou seest to
the left. It seems entire amid the surrounding
fragments. Mere outward appearance, delusive
phantom of what it once was ! Tread on it, and
like the fuss-ball, it will break into dust.
Sad and silent mementos to the giddy traveller
as he wanders on ! Prostrate remnants of vegetable
nature, how incontestably ye prove what we must
all at last come to, and how plain your mouldering
ruins show that the firmest texture avails us naught
FIRST
JOURNEY,
when Heaven wills that we should cease to be ! —
“ The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inhabit, shall dissolve,
And, like the baseless fabric of a vision,
Leave not a wreck behind.”
Cast thine eye around thee, and see the thousands
of nature’s productions. Take a view of them from
the opening seed on the surface, sending a down¬
ward shoot, to the loftiest and the largest trees,
rising up and blooming in wild luxuriance ; some
side by side, others separate; some curved and
knotty, others straight as lances ; all, in beautiful
gradation, fulfilling the mandates they had received
from heaven, and though condemned to die, still
never failing to keep up their species till time shall
be no more.
Reader, canst thou not be induced to dedicate a
26
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
few months to the good of the public, and examine
' with thy scientific eye the productions which the vast
and well-stored colony of Demerara presents to thee ?
What an immense range of forest is there from
the rock Saba to the great fall ! and what an unin¬
terrupted extent before thee from it to the banks of
the Essequibo ! No doubt, there is many a balsam
and many a medicinal root yet to be discovered, and
many a resin, gum, and oil yet unnoticed. Thy
work would be a pleasing one, and thou mightest
make several useful observations in it.
Would it be thought impertinent in thee to hazard
a conjecture, that with the resources the govern¬
ment of Demerara has, stones might be conveyed
from the rock Saba to Stabroek, to stem the equi¬
noctial tides, which are for ever sweeping away the
expensive wooden piles round the mounds of the
fort ? Or would the timber-merchant point at thee
in passing by, and call thee a descendant of La
Mancha’s knight, because thou maintainest that the
stones which form the rapids might be removed with
little expense, and thus open the navigation to the
wood-cutter from Stabroek to the great fall? Or
wnuldst thou be deemed enthusiastic or biassed,
because thou givest it as thy opinion that the climate
in these high lands is exceedingly wholesome, and
the lands themselves capable of nourishing and
maintaining any number of settlers? In thy dis¬
sertation on the Indians, thou mightest hint, that
possibly they could be induced to help the new
settlers a little $ and that finding their labours well
SOUTH AMERICA.
27
requited, it would be the means of their keeping up FIRST
• 1 1-1 1 -i “i i JOURNE
a constant communication with us, which probably -
might be the means of laying the first stone towards
their Christianity. They are a poor, harmless, in¬
offensive set of people, and their wandering and ill-
provided way of living seems more to ask for pity
from us, than to fill our heads with thoughts that
they would be hostile to us.
What a noble field, kind reader, for thy experi¬
mental philosophy and speculations, for thy learn¬
ing, for thy perseverance, for thy kind-heartedness,
for every thing that is great and good within thee !
The accidental traveller who has journeyed on
from Stabroek to the rock Saba, and from thence to
the banks of the Essequibo, in pursuit of other
things, as he told thee at the beginning, with but an
indifferent interpreter to talk to, no friend to con¬
verse with, and totally unfit for that which he wishes
thee to do, can merely mark the outlines of the path
he has trodden, or tell thee the sounds he has heard,
or faintly describe what he has seen in the environs
of his resting-places ; but if this be enough to induce
thee to undertake the journey, and give the world a
description of it, he will be amply satisfied.
It will be two days and a half from the time of
entering the path on the western bank of the
Demerara till all be ready, and the canoe fairly
afloat on the Essequibo. The new rigging it, and
putting every little thing to rights and in its proper
place, cannot well be done in less than a day.
After being night and day in the forest im-
28
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
Face of
the coun¬
try.
Islands.
pervious to the sun and moon’s rays, the sudden
transition to light has a fine heart- cheering effect.
Welcome as a lost friend, the solar beam makes the
frame rejoice, and with it a thousand enlivening
thoughts rush at once on the soul, and disperse, as a
vapour, every sad and sorrowful idea, which the deep
gloom had helped to collect there. In coming out
of the woods, you see the western bank of the
Essequibo before you, low and flat. Here the river
is two-thirds as broad as the Demerara at Stabroek.
To the northward there is a hill higher than any
in the Demerara; and in the south-south-west
quarter a mountain. It is far away, and appears
like a bluish cloud in the horizon. There is not the
least opening on either side. Hills, valleys, and
lowlands, are all linked together by a chain of forest.
Ascend the highest mountain, climb the loftiest tree,
as far as the eye can extend, whichever way it
directs itself, all is luxuriant and unbroken forest.
In about nine or ten hours from this, you get to
an Indian habitation of three huts, on the point of
an island. It is said that a Dutch post once stood
here. But there is not the smallest vestige of it
remaining, and, except that the trees appear younger
than those on the other islands, which shows that
the place has been cleared some time or other, there
is no mark left by which you can conjecture that
ever this was a post.
The many islands which you meet with in the way,
enliven and change the scene, by the avenues which
they make, which look like the mouths of other
SOUTH AMERICA.
29
rivers, and break that long-extended sameness which first
is seen m the JDemerara. -
Proceeding: onwards, you g;etto the falls and rapids. Fails and
_ . . / .. rapids.
In the rainy season they are very tedious to pass,
and often stop your course. In the dry season, by
stepping from rock to rock, the Indians soon manage
to get a canoe over them. But when the river is
swollen, as it was in May, 1812, it is then a difficult
task, and often a dangerous one too. At that time
many of the islands were overflowed, the rocks
covered, and the lower branches of the trees in the
water. Sometimes the Indians were obliged to take
every thing out of the canoe, cut a passage through
the branches, which hung over into the river, and
then drag up the canoe by main force.
At one place, the falls form an oblique line quite
across the river, impassable to the ascending canoe,
and you are forced to have it dragged four or five
hundred yards by land.
It will take you five days, from the Indian habi¬
tation, on the point of the island, to where these falls
and rapids terminate.
There are no huts in the way. You must bring
your own cassava bread along with you, hunt in the
forest for your meat, and make the night’s shelter
for yourself.
Here is a noble range of hills, all covered with the Hills,
finest trees, rising majestically one above the other,
on the western bank, and presenting as rich a scene
as ever the eye would wish to look on. Nothing in
vegetable nature can be conceived more charming,
grand, and luxuriant.
30
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
Rocks.
River
Apoura-
poura.
How the heart rejoices in viewing this beautiful
landscape ! when the sky is serene, the air cool, and
the sun just sunk behind the mountain’s top.
The hayawa tree perfumes the woods around ; pairs
of scarlet aras are continually crossing the river.
The maam sends forth its plaintive note, the wren
chants its evening song. The caprimulgus wheels
in busy flight around the canoe, while u Whip-poor-
Will” sits on the broken stump near the water’s
edge, complaining as the shades of night set in.
A little before you pass the last of these rapids,
two immense rocks appear, nearly on the summit of
one of the many hills which form this far-extending
range, where it begins to fall off gradually to the
south.
They look like two ancient stately towers of some
Gothic potentate, rearing their heads above the sur¬
rounding trees. What with their situation, and their
shape together, they strike the beholder with an idea
of antiquated grandeur, which he will never forget.
He may travel far and near and see nothing like
them. On looking at them through a glass, the
summit of the southern one appeared crowned with
bushes. The one to the north was quite bare. The
Indians have it from their ancestors, that they are
the abode of an evil genius, and they pass in the
river below, with a reverential awe.
In about seven hours from these stupendous sons
of the hill, you leave the Essequibo, and enter the
river Apoura-poura, which falls into it from the
south. The Apoura-poura is nearly one-third the size
of the Demerara at Stabroek. For two days you see
SOUTH AMERICA.
31
nothing but level ground, richly clothed in timber.
You leave the Siparouni to the right hand, and on
the third day come to a little hill. The Indians
have cleared about an acre of ground on it, and
erected a temporary shed. If it be not intended for
provision ground alone, perhaps the next white man
who travels through these remote wilds will find an
Indian settlement here.
Two days after leaving this, you get to a rising
ground on the western bank, where stands a single
hut 5 and about half a mile in the forest there are a
few more ; some of them square, and some round,
with spiral roots.
Here the fish called Pacou is very plentiful : it
is perhaps the fattest and most delicious fish in
Guiana. It does not take the hook, but the In¬
dians decoy it to the surface of the water by means
of the seeds of the crabwood tree, and then shoot
it with an arrow.
You are now within the borders of Macoushia, in¬
habited by a different tribe of people, called Macoushi
Indians ; uncommonly dexterous in the use of the
blow-pipe, and famous for their skill in preparing the
deadly vegetable poison, commonly called Wourali.
It is from this country that those beautiful paro¬
quets, named Kessi-kessi, are procured. Here the
crystal mountains are found ; and here the three dif¬
ferent species of the ara are seen in great abundance.
Here, too, grows the tree from which the gum-elastic
is got : it is large, and as tall as any in the forest.
The wood has much the appearance of sycamore.
FIRST
JOURNJE?
Macoushi
Indians.
32
WANDERINGS IN
first The gum is contained in the bark : when that is cut
JOURNEY. . - , . . . , .
- through, it oozes out very freely : it is quite white,
and looks as rich as cream : it hardens almost im¬
mediately as it issues from the tree ; so that it is
very easy to collect a ball, by forming the juice into
a globular shape as fast as it comes out : it becomes
nearly black by being exposed to the air, and is real
Indian rubber without undergoing any other process.
The elegant crested bird called Cock of the rock,
admirably described by Buffon, is a native of the
woody mountains of Macoushia. In the daytime,
it retires amongst the darkest rocks, and only comes
out to feed a little before sunrise, and at sunset : he
is of a gloomy disposition, and, like the houtou,
never associates with the other birds of the forest.
The Indians, in the just-mentioned settlement,
seemed to depend more on the wourali poison for
killing their game, than upon any thing else. They
had only one gun, and it appeared rusty and neg¬
lected ; but their poisoned weapons were in fine order.
Indian Their blow-pipes hung from the roof of the hut, care-
pipl" fully suspended by a silk grass cord ; and on taking
a nearer view of them, no dust seemed to have col¬
lected there, nor had the spider spun the smallest web
on them ; which showed that they were in constant
use. The quivers were close by them, with the jaw¬
bone of the fish Pirai tied by a string to their brim,
and a small wicker-basket of wild cotton, which hung
down to the centre ; they were nearly full of poisoned
arrows. It was with difficulty these Indians could
be persuaded to part with any of the wourali poison,
SOUTH AMERICA.
33
though a good price was offered for it ; they gave
to understand that it was powder and shot to them,
and very difficult to be procured.
On the second day after leaving this settlement, in
passing along, the Indians show you a place where
once a white man lived. His retiring so far from
those of his own colour and acquaintance seemed to
carry something extraordinary along with it, and
raised a desire to know what could have induced him
to do so. It seems he had been unsuccessful, and
that his creditors had treated him with as little mercy
as the strong generally show to the weak. Seeing
his endeavours daily frustrated, and his best inten¬
tions of no avail, and fearing that when they had
taken all he had, they would probably take his
liberty too, he thought the world would not be hard¬
hearted enough to condemn him for retiring from
the evils which pressed so heavily on him, and
which he had done all that an honest man could do,
to ward off. He left his creditors to talk of him as
they thought fit, and, bidding adieu for ever to the
place in which he had once seen better times, he
penetrated thus far into these remote and gloomy
wilds, and ended his days here.
According to the new map of South America,
Lake Parima, or the White Sea, ought to be within
three or four days’ walk from this place. On asking
the Indians whether there was such a place or not,
and describing that the water was fresh and good to
drink, an old Indian, who appeared to be about
sixty, said that there was such a place, and that he
had been there. This information would have been
D
FIRST
JOURNEY.
Lake
Parima.
34
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY.
Anecdote.
satisfactory in some degree, had not the Indians
carried the point a little too far. It is very large,
said another Indian, and ships come to it. Now,
these unfortunate ships were the very things which
were not wanted : had he kept them out, it might
have done, but his introducing them was sadly
against the lake. Thus you must either suppose that
the old savage and his companion had a confused
idea of the thing, and that probably the Lake Parima
they talked of was the Amazons, not far from the city
of Para, or that it was their intention to deceive you.
You ought to be cautious in giving credit to their
stories, otherwise you will be apt to be led astray.
Many a ridiculous thing concerning the interior of
Guiana has been propagated and received as true,
merely because six or seven Indians, questioned
separately, have agreed in their narrative.
Ask those who live high up in the Demerara, and
they will, every one of them, tell you that there is a
nation of Indians with long tails ; that they are very
malicious, cruel, and ill-natured ; and that the
Portuguese have been obliged to stop them off in a
certain river, to prevent their depredations. They
have also dreadful stories concerning a horrible beast,
called the Watermamma, which, when it happens to
take a spite against a canoe, rises out of the river,
and in the most unrelenting manner possible, carries
both canoe and Indians down to the bottom with it,
and there destroys them. Ludicrous extravagances !
pleasing to those fond of the marvellous, and ex¬
cellent matter for a distempered brain.
The misinformed and timid court of policy in
SOUTH AMERICA.
35
Demerara, was made the dupe of a savage, who FIRST
7 1 ° 7 JOURNEY.
came down the Essequibo, and gave himself out as
king of a mighty tribe. This naked wild man of
the woods seemed to hold the said court in tolerable
contempt, and demanded immense supplies, all
which he got ; and moreover, some time after, an
invitation to come down the ensuing year for more,
which he took care not to forget.
This noisy chieftain boasted so much of his dynasty
and domain, that the government was induced to
send up an expedition into his territories to see if
he had spoken the truth, and nothing but the truth.
It appeared, however, that his palace was nothing
but a hut, the monarch a needy savage, the heir-
apparent nothing to inherit but his father’s club and
bow and arrows, and his officers of state wild and un¬
cultivated as the forests through which they strayed.
There was nothing in the hut of this savage, saving
the presents he had received from government, but
what was barely sufficient to support existence ;
nothing that indicated a power to collect a hostile
force ; nothing that showed the least progress to¬
wards civilization. All was rude and barbarous in
the extreme, expressive of the utmost poverty, and
a scanty population.
You may travel six or seven days without seeing
a hut, and when you reach a settlement, it seldom
contains more than ten.
The further you advance into the interior, the
more you are convinced that it is thinly inhabited.
The day after passing the place where the white
d 2
36
WANDERINGS IN
first man lived, you see a creek on the left hand, and
- - 1 shortly after the path to the open country. Here you
drag the canoe up into the forest, and leave it there.
Your baggage must now be carried by the Indians.
The creek you passed in the river, intersects the path
to the next settlement ; a large mora has fallen across
it, and makes an excellent bridge. After walking
an hour and a half, you come to the edge of the
forest, and a savanna unfolds itself to the view.
The finest park that England boasts, falls far short
of this delightful scene. There are about two
thousand acres of grass, with here and there a clump
of trees, and a few bushes and single trees, scattered
up and down by the hand of nature. The ground
is neither hilly nor level, but diversified with mode¬
rate rises and falls, so gently running into one
another, that the eye cannot distinguish where they
begin, nor where they end ; while the distant black
rocks have the appearance of a herd at rest. Nearly
in the middle there is an eminence, which falls off
gradually on every side ; and on this the Indians
have erected their huts.
To the northward of them the forest forms a circle,
as though it had been done by art ; to the eastward
it hangs in festoons ; and to the south and west it
rushes in abruptly, disclosing a new scene behind it
at every step as you advance along.
This beautiful park of nature is quite surrounded
by lofty hills, all arrayed in superbest garb of trees ;
some in the form of pyramids, others like sugar-
loaves, towering one above the other, some rounded
SOUTH AMERICA.
37
FIRST
JOURNEY.
off, and others as though they had lost their apex-
Here tAvo hills rise up in spiral summits, and the
wooded line of communication betwixt them sinks so
gradually, that it forms a crescent ; and there the
ridges of others resemble the waves of an agitated
sea. Beyond these appear others, and others past
them ; and others still farther on, till they can
scarcely be distinguished from the clouds.
There are no sand-flies, nor bete-rouge, nor mos¬
quitos, in this pretty spot. The fire-flies, during the
night, vie in numbers and brightness with the stars
in the firmament above; the air is pure, and the
north-east breeze blows a refreshing gale throughout
the dav. Here the white-crested maroudi, which is
never found in the Demerara, is pretty plentiful ;
and here grows the tree which produces the moran,
sometimes called balsam-capivi.
Your route lies south from this place ; and at the Route,
extremity of the savanna, you enter the forest, and
journey along a winding path at the foot of a hill.
There is no habitation within this day’s walk. The
traveller, as usual, must sleep in the forest ; the
path is not so good the following day. The hills,
over which it lies, are rocky, steep, and rugged ; and
the spaces betwixt them swampy, and mostly knee-
deep in water. After eight hours’ walk, you find
two or three Indian huts, surrounded by the forest ;
and in little more than half an hour from these, you
come to ten or twelve others, where you pass the night.
They are prettily situated at the entrance into a
savanna. The eastern and western hills are still
38
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
The
Jabiru.
covered with wood; but oh looking to the south¬
west quarter, you perceive it begins to die away.
In these forests you may find plenty of the trees
which yield the sweet-smelling resin called Acaiari,
and which, when pounded and burnt on charcoal,
gives a delightful fragrance.
From hence you proceed, in a south-west direction,
through a long swampy savanna. Some of the hills,
which border on it, have nothing but a thin coarse
grass and huge stones on them ; others quite wooded ;
others with their summits crowned, and their base
quite bare ; and others again with their summits
bare, and their base in thickest wrood.
Half of this day’s march is in water, nearly up to the
knees. There are four creeks to pass : one of them
has a fallen tree across it. You must make your
own bridge across the other three. Probably, were
the truth known, these apparently four creeks are
only the meanders of one.
The Jabiru, the largest bird in Guiana, feeds in
the marshy savanna through which you have just
passed. He is wary and shy, and will not allow
you to get within gunshot of him.
You sleep this night in the forest, and reach
an Indian settlement about three o’clock the next
evening, after walking one-third of the way through
wet and miry ground.
But bad as the walking is through it, it is easier than
where you cross over the bare hills, where you have
to tread on sharp stones, most of them lying edgewise.
The ground gone over these two last days, seems
SOUTH AMERICA.
39
condemned to perpetual solitude and silence. There
was not one four-footed animal to be seen, nor even
the marks of one. It would have been as silent as
midnight, and all as still and unmoved as a monu¬
ment, had not the jabiru in the marsh, and a few
vultures soaring over the mountain’s top, shown
that it was not quite deserted by animated nature.
There were no insects, except one kind of fly, about
one-fourth the size of the common house-fly. It
bit cruelly, and was much more tormenting than the
mosquito on the sea-coast.
This seems to be the native countiy of the Arrow-
root. Wherever you passed through a patch of
wood in a low situation, there you found it growing
luxuriantly.
The Indian place you are now at, is not the
proper place to have come to, in order to reach the
Portuguese frontiers. You have advanced too much
to the westward. But there was no alternative.
The ground betwixt you and another small settle¬
ment (which was the right place to have gone to)
was overflowed ; and thus, instead of proceeding
southward, you were obliged to wind along the foot
of the western hills, quite out of your way.
But the grand landscape this place affords, makes
you ample amends for the time you have spent in
reaching it. It would require great descriptive
powers to give a proper idea of the situation these
people have chosen for their dwelling.
The hill they are on is steep and high, and full of
immense rocks. The huts are not all in one place,
FIRST
JOURNEY.
Arrow-
root.
40
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
.TOURNEY.
Immense
plain.
Creek.
but dispersed wherever they have found a place level
enough for a lodgement. Before you ascend the
hill, you see at intervals an acre or two of wood,
then an open space, with a few huts on it ; then
wood again, and then an open space ; and so on ;
till the intervening of the western hills, higher and
steeper still, and crowded with trees of the loveliest
shades, closes the enchanting scene.
At the base of this hill stretches an immense plain,
which appears to the eye, on this elevated spot, as
level as a bowling green. The mountains on the
other side are piled one upon the other in romantic
forms, and gradually retire, till they are undiscern-
ible from the clouds in which they are involved.
To the south-south- wrest this far-extending plain is lost
in the horizon. The trees on it, which look like islands
on the ocean, add greatly to the beauty of the land¬
scape ; while the rivulet’s course is marked out by
the seta trees wdiich follow its meanders.
Not being able to pursue the direct course from
hence to the next Indian habitation, on account of
the floods of water which fall at this time of the year,
you take a circuit westerly along the mountain’s foot.
At last a large and deep creek stops your progress :
it is wide and rapid, and its banks very steep.
There is neither curial nor canoe, nor purple-heart
tree in the neighbourhood to make a wood skin to
carry you over, so that you are obliged to swim
across ; and by the time you have formed a kind of
raft, composed of boughs of trees and coarse grass,
to ferry over your baggage, the day will be too far
SOUTH AMERICA.
41
spent to think of proceeding. You must be very first
, r. . , . , JOURNEY.
cautious before you venture to swim across this creek, -
for the alligators are numerous, and near twenty feet
long. On the present occasion, the Indians took
uncommon precautions, lest they should be devoured
by this cruel and voracious reptile. They cut long
sticks, and examined closely the side of the creek for
half a mile above and below the place where it was
to be crossed ; and as soon as the boldest had swam
over, he did the same on the other side, and then
all followed.
After passing the night on the opposite bank, which
is well wooded, it is a brisk walk of nine hours before
you reach four Indian huts, on a rising ground, a few
hundred paces from a little brook, whose banks are
covered over with coucourite and asta trees.
This is the place you ought to have come to, two
days ago, had the water permitted you. In crossing
the plain at the most advantageous place, you are
above ankle-deep in water for three hours ; the
remainder of the way is dry, the ground gently rising.
As the lower parts of this spacious plain put on some¬
what the appearance of a lake, during the periodical
rains, it is not improbable but that this is the place
which hath given rise to the supposed existence of
the famed Lake Parima, or El Dorado ; but this is
mere conjecture.
A few deer are feeding on the coarse rough grass Deer,
of this far-extending plain ; they keep at a distance
from you, and are continually on the look out.
The spur-winged plover, and a species of the
42
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
.TOURNEY.
The
Toucan.
Ants’
nests.
Portu¬
guese
frontiers.
curlew, black, with a white bar across the wings,
nearly as large again as the scarlet curlew on the sea-
coast, frequently rise before you. Here, too, the
Moscovy cluck is numerous ; and large flocks of two
other kinds wheel round you as you pass on, but
keep out of gun-shot. The milk-white egrets, and
jabirus, are distinguished at a great distance; and
in the aeta and coucourite trees, you may observe
flocks of scarlet and blue aras feeding on the seeds.
It is to these trees that the largest sort of toucan
resorts. He is remarkable by a large black spot
on the point of his fine yellow bill. He is very
scarce in Demerara, and never seen except near
the sea-coast.
The ants’ nests have a singular appearance on this
plain ; they are in vast abundance on those parts of
it free from water, and are formed of an exceeding
hard yellow clay. They rise eight or ten feet from
the ground, in a spiral form, impenetrable to the rain,
and strong enough to defy the severest tornado.
The wourali poison, procured in these last-men¬
tioned huts, seemed very good, and proved after¬
wards to be very strong.
There are now no more Indian settlements be¬
twixt you and the Portuguese frontiers. If you wish
to visit their fort, it would be advisable to send an
Indian with a letter from hence, and wait his return.
On the present occasion a very fortunate circum¬
stance occurred. The Portuguese commander had
sent some Indians and soldiers to build a canoe, not
far from this settlement ; they had just finished it,
SOUTH AMERICA.
43
and those who did not stay with it, had stopped here first
on their return. -
The soldier who commanded the rest, said, he
durst not, upon any account, convey a stranger to
the fort ; but he added, as there were two canoes, one
of them might be despatched with a letter, and then
wre could proceed slowly on in the other.
About three hours from this settlement, there is a
river called Pirarara; and here the soldiers had left
their canoes while they were making the new one.
From the Pirarara you get into the river Maou, and
then into the Tacatou ; and just where the Tacatou
falls into the Rio Branco, there stands the Portu¬
guese frontier fort, called Fort St. Joachim. From
the time of embarking in the river Pirarara, it takes
you four days before you reach this fort.
There was nothing very remarkable in passing
down these rivers. It is an open country, producing a
coarse grass, and interspersed with clumps of trees.
The banks have some wood on them, but it appears
stinted and crooked, like that on the bleak hills in
England.
The tapir frequently plunged into the river; he
wras by no means shy, and it was easy to get a shot
at him on land. The kessi-kessi paroquets were in
great abundance ; and the fine scarlet aras innume¬
rable in the coucourite trees at a distance from the
river’s bank. In the Tacatou was seen the troupiale.
It wras charming to hear the sweet and plaintive
notes of this pretty songster of the wilds. The
Portuguese call it the nightingale of Guiana.
44
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
Message
from the
• Portu¬
guese
com¬
mander.
Towards the close of the fourth evening, the canoe,
which had been sent on with a letter, met us with
the commander’s answer. During its absence, the
nights had been cold and stormy, the rain had fallen
in torrents, the days cloudy, and there was no sun
to dry the wet hammocks. Exposed thus, day and
night, to the chilling blast and pelting shower,
strength of constitution at last failed, and a severe
fever came on. The commander’s answer was very
polite. He remarked, he regretted much to say,
that he had received orders to allow no stranger to
enter the frontier, and this being the case, he hoped
I would not consider him as uncivil : u however,”
continued he, “ I have ordered the soldier to land
you at a certain distance from the fort, where we
can consult together.”
We had now arrived at the place, and the canoe
which brought the letter returned to the fort, to tell
the commander I had fallen sick.
The sun had not risen above an hour the morning
after, when the Portuguese officer came to the spot
where we had landed the preceding evening. He
was tall and spare, and appeared to be from fifty to
fifty-five years old ; and though thirty years of ser¬
vice under an equatorial sun had burnt and shrivelled
up his face, still there was something in it so inex¬
pressibly affable and kind, that it set you immediately
at your ease. He came close up to the hammock,
and taking hold of my wrist to feel the pulse, “ I
am sorry, Sir,” said he, “ to see that the fever has
taken such hold of you. You shall go directly with
SOUTH AMERICA.
45
me/’ continued lie, u to the fort ; and though we
have no doctor there, I trust,” added he, u we shall
soon bring you about again. The orders I have re¬
ceived forbidding the admission of strangers, were
never intended to be put in force against a sick
English gentleman.”
As the canoe was proceeding slowly down the
river towards the fort, the commander asked, with
much more interest than a question in ordinary con¬
versation is asked, where was I on the night of the
first of May? On telling him that I wras at an
Indian settlement a little below the great fall in the
Demerara, and that a strange and sudden noise had
alarmed all the Indians, he said the same astonishing
noise had roused every man in Fort St. Joachim,
and that they remained under arms till morning;.
He observed, that he had been quite at a loss to
form any idea what could have caused the noise ;
but now learning that the same noise had been heard
at the same time far away from the Rio Branco, it
struck him there must have been an earthquake
somewhere or other.
Good nourishment and rest, and the unwearied
attention and kindness of the Portuguese com¬
mander, stopped the progress of the fever, and
enabled me to walk about in six days.
Fort St. Joachim was built about five and forty
years ago, under the apprehension, it is said, that
the Spaniards were coming from the Rio Negro to
settle there. It has been much neglected; the floods
of water have carried away the gate, and destroyed
FIRST
JOURNEY.
Fort St.
Joachim
4(5
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURN F.Y
Wourali
poison.
the wall on each side of it ; but the present com¬
mander is putting it into thorough repair. When
finished, it will mount six nine, and six twelve
pounders.
In a straight line with the fort, and within a few
yards of the river, stand the commander’s house,
the barracks, the chapel, the father confessor’s house,
and two others, all at little intervals from each other ;
and these are the only buildings at Fort St. Joachim.
The neighbouring extensive plains afford good pas¬
turage for a fine breed of cattle, and the Portuguese
make enough of butter and cheese for their own
consumption.
On asking the old officer if there were such a place
as Lake Parima, or El Dorado, he replied, he looked
upon it as imaginary altogether. “ I have been
above forty years,” added he, “ in Portuguese
Guiana, but have never yet met with any body who
has seen the lake.”
So much for Lake Parima, or El Dorado, or the
White Sea. Its existence at best seems doubtful ;
some affirm that there is such a place, and others
deny it.
“Grammatici certant, et adhue sub judice lis est.”
Having now reached the Portuguese inland fron¬
tier, and collected a sufficient quantity of the wourali
poison, nothing remains but to give a brief account
of its composition, its effects, its uses, and its sup¬
posed antidotes.
It has been already remarked, that in the exten-
SOUTH AMERICA.
47
sive wilds of Demerara and Essequibo, far away first
from any European settlement, there is a tribe 0f
Indians who are known by the name of Macoushi.
Though the wourali poison is used by all the
South American savages betwixt the Amazons and
the Oroonoque, still this tribe makes it stronger than
any of the rest. The Indians in the vicinity of
the Rio Negro are aware of this, and come to the
Macoushi country to purchase it.
Much has been said concerning this fatal and ex- its effects,
traordinary poison. Some have affirmed that its ef¬
fects are almost instantaneous, provided the minutest
particle of it mixes with the blood ; and others again
have maintained that it is not strong enough to kill
an animal of the size and strength of a man. The
first have erred by lending a too willing ear to the
marvellous, and believing assertions without suffi¬
cient proof. The following short story points out
the necessity of a cautious examination.
One day, on asking an Indian if he thought the Anecdote,
poison would kill a man, he replied, that they always
go to battle with it ; that he was standing by when
an Indian was shot with a poisoned arrow, and that
he expired almost immediately. Not wishing to
dispute this apparently satisfactory information, the
subject was dropped. However, about an hour
after, having purposely asked him in what part of
the body the said Indian was wounded, he answered
without hesitation, that the arrow entered betwixt
his shoulders, and passed quite through his heart.
Was it the weapon, or the strength of the poison,
48
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNF'1
that brought on immediate dissolution in this case ?
: Of course the weapon.
The second have been misled by disappointment,
caused by neglect in keeping the poisoned arrows,
or by not knowing how to use them, or by trying
inferior poison. If the arrows are not kept dry,
the poison loses its strength, and in wet or damp
weather it turns mouldy, and becomes quite soft.
In shooting an arrow in this state, upon examining
the place where it has entered, it will be observed
that, though the arrow has penetrated deep into the
flesh, still by far the greatest part of the poison has
shrunk back, and thus, instead of entering with the
arrow, it has remained collected at the mouth of
the wound. In this case the arrow might as well
have not been poisoned. Probably, it was to this
that a gentleman, some time ago, owed his disap¬
pointment, when he tried the poison on a horse in
the town of Stabroek, the capital of Demerara ; the
horse never betrayed the least symptom of being
affected by it.
Wishful to obtain the best information concerning
this poison, and as repeated inquiries, in lieu of dis¬
sipating the surrounding shade, did but tend more
and more to darken the little light that existed ; I
determined to penetrate into the country where the
poisonous ingredients grow, where this pernicious
composition is prepared, and where it is constantly
used. Success attended the adventure ; and the in¬
formation acquired made amends for one hundred
and twenty days passed in the solitudes of Guiana,
SOUTH AMERICA.
40
and afforded a balm to the wounds and bruises which first
,, . , .TOURNEV.
every traveller must expect to receive who wanders - -
through a thorny and obstructed path.
Thou must not, courteous reader, expect a disser¬
tation on the manner in which the wourali poison
operates on the system ; a treatise has been already
written on the subject, and after all, there is probably
still reason to doubt. It is supposed to affect the
nervous system, and thus destroy the vital functions;
it is also said to be perfectly harmless, provided it
does not touch the blood. However, this is certain,
when a sufficient quantity of it enters the blood, death
is the inevitable consequence ; but there is no alter¬
ation in the colour of the blood, and both the blood
and flesh may be eaten with safety.
All that thou wilt find here is a concise, unadorned
account of the wourali poison. It may be of service
to thee some time or other, shouldst thou ever travel
through the wilds where it is used. Neither attri¬
bute to cruelty, nor to a want of feeling for the
sufferings of the inferior animals, the ensuing ex¬
periments. The larger animals were destroyed in
order to have proof positive of the strength of a
poison which hath hitherto been doubted ; and the
smaller ones were killed with the hope of substan¬
tiating that which has commonly been supposed to
be an antidote.
It makes a pitying heart ache to see a poor crea¬
ture in distress and pain ; and too often has the
compassionate traveller occasion to heave a sigh as
he journeys on. However, here, though the kind-
E
50
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
hearted will be sorry to read of an unoffending
animal doomed to death, in order to satisfy a doubt,
still it will be a relief to know that the victim was
not tortured. The wourali poison destroys life’s
action so gently, that the victim appears to be in
no pain whatever; and probably, were the truth
known, it feels none, saving the momentary smart
at the time the arrow enters.
A day or two before the Macoushi Indian pre¬
pares his poison, he goes into the forest, in quest of
the ingredients. A vine grows in these wilds, which
is called wourali. It is from this that the poison
takes its name, and it is the principal ingredient.
When he has procured enough of this, he digs up
a root of a very bitter taste, ties them together, and
then looks about for two kinds of bulbous plants,
which contain a green and glutinous juice. He fills
a little quake, which he carries on his back, with
the stalks of these ; and lastly, ranges up and down
till he finds two species of ants. One of them is
very large and black, and so venomous, that its
sting produces a fever ; it is most commonly to be
met with on the ground. The other is a little red
ant, which stings like a nettle, and generally has its
nest under the leaf of a shrub. After obtaining these,
he has no more need to range the forest.
A quantity of the strongest Indian pepper is
used ; but this he has already planted round his
hut. The pounded fangs of the Labarri snake,
and those of the Counacouchi, are likewise added.
These he commonly has in store ; for when he kills
SOUTH AMERICA.
51
a snake, lie generally extracts the fangs, and keeps first
. i i • JOURNEY.
them by him. -
Having; thus found the necessary ingredients, he Prepara-
. J ® 7 tionofthe
scrapes the wourali vine and bitter root into thin wourali
shavings, and puts them into a kind of colander p01b0n‘
made of leaves : this he holds over an earthen pot,
and pours water on the shavings : the liquor which
comes through has the appearance of coffee. When
a sufficient quantity has been procured, the shavings
are thrown aside. He then bruises the bulbous
stalks, and squeezes a proportionate quantity of their
juice through his hands into the pot. Lastly, the
snakes’ fangs, ants, and pepper are bruised, and
thrown into it. It is then placed on a slow fire, and
as it boils, more of the juice of the wourali is added,
according as it may be found necessary, and the
scum is taken off with a leaf : it remains on the fire
till reduced to a thick syrup of a deep brown colour.
As soon as it has arrived at this state, a few arrows
are poisoned with it, to try its strength. If it an¬
swer the expectations, it is poured out into a calabash,
or little pot of Indian manufacture, which is care¬
fully covered with a couple of leaves, and over them
a piece of deer’s skin, tied round with a cord. They
keep it in the most dry part of the hut ; and from
time to time suspend it over the fire, to counteract
the effects of dampness.
The act of preparing this poison is not considered
as a common one : the savage may shape his bow,
fasten the barb on the point of his arrow, and make
his other implements of destruction, either lying in
e 2
52
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOUKNEY.
Yabahou,
or evil
spirit.
Indian
super¬
stition.
liis hammock, or in the midst of his family ; but, if
he has to prepare the wourali poison, many pre¬
cautions are supposed to be necessary.
The women and young girls are not allowed to
be present, lest the Yabahou, or evil spirit, should
do them harm. The shed under which it has been
boiled, is pronounced polluted, and abandoned ever
after. He who makes the poison must eat nothing
that morning, and must continue fasting as long as
the operation lasts. The pot in which it is boiled
must be a new one, and must never have held any
thing before, otherwise the poison would be deficient
in strength : add to this, that the operator must take
particular care not to expose himself to the vapour
which arises from it while on the fire.
Though this and other precautions are taken, such
as frequently washing the face and hands, still the
Indians think that it affects the health ; and the
operator either is, or, what is more probable, sup¬
poses himself to be, sick for some days after.
Thus it appears that the making the wourali
poison is considered as a gloomy and mysterious
operation ; and it would seem that they imagine it
affects others as well as him who boils it; for an
Indian agreed one evening to make some for me, but
the next morning he declined having any thing to
do with it, alleging that his wife was with child !
Here it might be asked, are all the ingredients
just mentioned necessary, in order to produce the
wourali poison ? Though our opinions and conjec¬
tures may militate against the absolute necessity of
SOUTH AMERICA.
53
some of them, still it would be hardly fair to pro- FIRST
nounce them added by the hand of superstition, till — ■ 'RNrv
proof positive can be obtained.
We might argue on the subject, and by bringing
forward instances of Indian superstition, draw our
conclusion by inference, and still remain in doubt on
this head. You know superstition to be the offspring
of ignorance, and of course that it takes up its abode
amongst the rudest tribes of uncivilized man. It
even too often resides with man in his more en¬
lightened state.
o
The Augustan age furnishes numerous examples.
A bone snatched from the jaws of a fasting bitch,
and a feather from the wing of a night owl, — u ossa
ab ore rapta jejunse canis, plumamque nocturnas
strigis,” — were necessary for Canidia’s incantations.
And in aftertimes, parson Evans, the Welshman,
was treated most ungenteelly by an enraged spirit,
solely because he had forgotten a fumigation in his
witch- work.
If, then, enlightened man lets his better sense give
way, and believes, or allows himself to be persuaded,
that certain substances and actions, in reality of no
avail, possess a virtue which renders them useful in
producing the wished for effect ; may not the wild,
untaught, unenlightened savage of Guiana, add an
ingredient which, on account of the harm it does
him, he fancies may be useful to the perfection of his
poison, though in fact it be of no use at all ? If a bone
snatched from the jaws of a fasting bitch be thought
necessary in incantation ; or if witchcraft have re-
54
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY.
Descrip¬
tion of the
blow¬
pipe.
course to the raiment of the owl, because it resorts
to the tombs and mausoleums of the dead, and wails
and hovers about at the time that the rest of animated
nature sleeps ; certainly the savage may imagine that
the ants, whose sting causes a fever, and the teeth of
the Labarri and Counacouchi snakes, which convey
death in a very short space of time, are essentially
necessary in the composition of his poison ; and being
once impressed with this idea, he will add them every
time he makes the poison, and transmit the absolute
use of them to his posterity. The question to be
answered seems not to be, if it is natural for the
Indians to mix these ingredients, but, if they are
essential to make the poison.
So much for the preparing of this vegetable
essence ; terrible importer of death, into whatever
animal it enters. Let us now see how it is used ; let
ns examine the weapons which bear it to its destina¬
tion, and take a view of the poor victim, from the time
he receives his wound, till death comes to his relief.
When a native of Macoushia goes in quest of
feathered game or other birds, he seldom carries his
bow and arrows. It is the blow-pipe he then uses.
This extraordinary tube of death is, perhaps, one of
the greatest natural curiosities of Guiana. It is not
found in the country of the Macoushi. Those
Indians tell you that it grows to the south-west of
them, in the wilds which extend betwixt them and
the Rio Negro. The reed must grow to an amazing
length, as the part the Indians use is from ten to
eleven feet long, and no tapering can be perceived in
SOUTH AMERICA.
55
it, one end being as thick as the other. It is of a first
bright yellow colour, perfectly smooth both inside -
and out. It grows hollow ; nor is there the least
appearance of a knot or joint throughout the whole
extent. The natives call it Ourah. This, of itself,
is too slender to answer the end of a blow-pipe ; but
there is a species of palma, larger and stronger, and
common in Guiana, and this the Indians make use
of as a case, in which they put the ourah. It is
brown, susceptible of a fine polish, and appears as if
it had joints five or six inches from each other. It
is called Samourah, and the pulp inside is easily ex¬
tracted, by steeping it for a few days in water.
Thus the ourah and samourah, one within the
other, form the blow-pipe of Guiana. The end
which is applied to the mouth is tied round with a
small silk-grass cord, to prevent its splitting ; and
the other end, which is apt to strike against the
ground, is secured by the seed of the acuero fruit,
cut horizontally through the middle, with a hole
made in the end, through which is put the extremity
of the blow-pipe. It is fastened on with string on the
outside, and the inside is filled up with wildbees’-wax.
The arrow is from nine to ten inches long. It is The
made out of the leaf of a species of palm-tree, called anw*
Coucourite, hard and brittle, and pointed as sharp
as a needle. About an inch of the pointed end is
poisoned. The other end is burnt to make it still
harder, and wild cotton is put round it for about an
inch and a half. It requires considerable practice to
put on this cotton well. It must just be large enough
56
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
The
quiver.
to fit the hollow of the tube, and taper off to nothing
downwards. They tie it on with a thread of the
silk-grass, to prevent its slipping off the arrow.
The Indians have shown ingenuity in making a
quiver to hold the arrows. It will contain from five
to six hundred. It is generally from twelve to
fourteen inches long, and in shape resembles a dice-
box used at backgammon. The inside is prettily done
in basket work, with wood not unlike bamboo, and
the outside has a coat of wax. The cover is all of
one piece, formed out of the skin of the tapir. Round
the centre there is fastened a loop, large enough to
admit the arm and shoulder, from which it hangs
when used. To the rim is tied a little bunch of silk-
grass, and half of the jaw-bone of the fish called pirai,
with which the Indian scrapes the point of his arrow.
Before he puts the arrows into the quiver, he
links them together by two strings of cotton, one
string at each end, and then folds them round a stick,
which is nearly the length of the quiver. The end
of the stick, which is uppermost, is guarded by two
little pieces of wood crosswise, with a hoop round
their extremities, which appears something like a
wheel ; and this saves the hand from being wounded
Avhen the quiver is reversed, in order to let the bunch
of arrows drop out.
There is also attached to the quiver a little kind of
basket, to hold the wild cotton which is put on the
blunt end of the arrow. With a quiver of poisoned
arrows slung over his shoulder, and with his bloAv-
pipe in his hand, in the same position as a soldier
SOUTH AMERICA.
O?
carries his musket, see the Macoushi Indian ad- first
vancing towards the forest in quest of powises, - -
maroudis, waracabas, and other feathered game.
These Generally sit higji up in the tall and tufted Thein-
J & I . dian in
trees, but still are not out of the Indian’s reach ; for pursuit of
his blow-pipe, at its greatest elevation, will send an
arrow three hundred feet. Silent as midnight he
steals under them, and so cautiously does he tread
the ground, that the fallen leaves rustle not beneath
his feet. His ears are open to the least sound, while
his eye, keen as that of the lynx, is employed in
finding out the game in the thickest shade. Often
he imitates their cry, and decoys them from tree to
tree, till they are within range of his tube. Then
taking a poisoned arrow from his quiver, he puts it in
the blow-pipe, and collects his breath for the fatal puff.
About two feet from the end through which he
blows, there are fastened two teeth of the acouri, and
these serve him for a sight. Silent and swift the
arrow flies, and seldom fails to pierce the object at
which it is sent. Sometimes the wounded bird
remains in the same tree where it was shot, and in
three minutes falls down at the Indian’s feet. Should
he take wing, his flight is of short duration, and the
Indian, following the direction he has gone, is sure
to find him dead.
It is natural to imagine that, when a slight wound Effects of
only is inflicted, the game will make its escape. Far or'fthT0'1
otherwise ; the wourali poison almost instantaneously i,Rd.udt a
mixes with blood or wrater, so that if you wet your
finger, and dash it along the poisoned arrow in the
58
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
quickest manner possible, you are sure to carry off
some of the poison. Though three minutes generally
elapse before the convulsions come on in the wounded
bird, still a stupor evidently takes place sooner, and
this stupor manifests itself by an apparent unwilling¬
ness in the bird to move. This was very visible in
a dying fowl.
Having procured a healthy full-grown one, a short
piece of a poisoned blow-pipe arrow was broken off
and run up into its thigh, as near as possible betwixt
the skin and the flesh, in order that it might not be
incommoded by the wound. For the first minute it
walked about, but walked very slowly, and did not
appear the least agitated. During the second minute
it stood still, and began to peck the ground ; and ere
half another had elapsed, it frequently opened and
shut its mouth. The tail had now dropped, and
the wings almost touched the ground. By the ter¬
mination of the third minute, it had sat down, scarce
able to support its head, which nodded, and then
recovered itself, and then nodded again, lower and
lower every time, like that of a weary traveller slum¬
bering in an erect position ; the eyes alternately open
and shut. The fourth minute brought on convul¬
sions, and life and the fifth terminated together.
The flesh of the game is not in the least injured by
the poison, nor does it appear to corrupt sooner than
that killed by the gun or knife. The body of this
fowl was kept for sixteen hours, in a climate damp
and rainy, and within seven degrees of the equator ;
at the end of which time it had contracted no bad
SOUTH AMERICA.
59
smell whatever, and there were no symptoms of first
putrefaction, saving that, just round the wound, the -
flesh appeared somewhat discoloured.
The Indian, on his return home, carefully suspends
his blow-pipe from the top of his spiral roof ; seldom
placing it in an oblique position, lest it should
receive a cast.
Here let the blow-pipe remain suspended, while
you take a view of the arms which are made to slay
the larger beasts of the forest.
When the Indian intends to chase the peccari, or
surprise the deer, or rouse the tapir from his marshy
retreat, he carries his bow and arrows, which are
very different from the weapons already described.
The bow is generally from six to seven feet long, The bow
and strung with a cord, spun out of the silk-grass, the chase.
The forests of Guiana furnish many species of hard
wood, tough and elastic, out of which beautiful and
excellent bows are formed.
The arrows are from four to five feet in length, Arrows,
made of a yellow reed without a knot or joint. It
is found in great plenty up and down throughout
Guiana. A piece of hard wood, about nine inches
long, is inserted into the end of the reed, and
fastened with cotton well waxed. A square hole, an
inch deep, is then made in the end of this piece of
hard wood, done tight round with cotton to keep it
from splitting. Into this square hole is fitted a spike
of Coucourite wood, poisoned, and which may be
kept there, or taken out at pleasure. A joint of
bamboo, about as thick as your finger, is fitted on
60
WANDERINGS IN
first over the poisoned spike, to prevent accidents and
- — defend it from the rain, and is taken off when the
arrow is about to be used. Lastly, two feathers are
fastened on the other end of the reed to steady it in
its flight.
Besides his bow and arrows, the Indian carries a
little box made of bamboo, which holds a dozen or
Spikes, fifteen poisoned spikes, six inches long. They are
poisoned in the following manner : a small piece of
wood is dipped in the poison, and with this they
give the spike a first coat. It is then exposed to the
sun or fire. After it is dry, it receives another coat,
and then dried again; after this a third coat, and
sometimes a fourth.
They take great care to put the poison on thicker at
the middle than at the sides, by which means the spike
retains the shape of a two-edged sword. It is rather
a tedious operation to make one of these arrows com¬
plete ; and as the Indian is not famed for industry,
except when pressed by hunger, he has hit upon a
plan of preserving his arrows which deserves notice.
About a quarter of an inch above the part where
the Coucourite spike is fixed into the square hole, he
cuts it half through ; and thus, when it has entered
the animal, the weight of the arrow causes it to break
off there, by which means the arrow' falls to the
ground uninjured; so that, should this be the only
arrow he happens to have with him, and should
another shot immediately occur, he has only to take
another poisoned spike out of his little bamboo box,
fit it on his arrow, and send it to its destination.
SOUTH AMERICA.
61
Thus armed with deadly poison, and hungry as first
the hyaena, he ranges through the forest in quest of - -
the wild beasts’ tract. No hound can act a surer
part. Without clothes to fetter him, or shoes to bind
his feet, he observes the footsteps of the game, where
an European eye could not discern the smallest
vestige. He pursues it through all its turns and
windings, with astonishing perseverance, and success
generally crowns his efforts. The animal, after
receiving the poisoned arrow, seldom retreats two
hundred paces before it drops.
In passing over land from the Essequibo to the
Demerara. we fell in with a herd of wild hos;s.
Though encumbered with baggage, and fatigued with
a hard day’s walk, an Indian got his bow ready, and
let fly a poisoned arrow at one of them. It entered Kill a
the cheek bone and broke off. The wild hog was
found quite dead about one hundred and seventy
paces from the place where he had been shot. He
afforded us an excellent and wholesome supper.
Thus the savage of Guiana, independent of the
common weapons of destruction, has it in his power
to prepare a poison, by which he can generally ensure
to himself a supply of animal food ; and the food so
destroyed imbibes no deleterious qualities. Nature
has been bountiful to him. She has not only ordered
poisonous herbs and roots to grow in the unbounded
forests through which he strays, but has also fur¬
nished an excellent reed for his arrows, and another,
still more singular, for his blow-pipe ; and planted
trees of an amazing hard, tough, and elastic texture,
62
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY
Further
remarks
on the
virulence
of the
poison.
out of which he forms his bows. And in order that
' nothing might be wanting, she has superadded a tree
which yields him a fine wax, and disseminated up
and down, a plant not unlike that of the pine-apple,
which affords him capital bow-strings.
Having now followed the Indian in the chase, and
described the poison, let us take a nearer view of its
action, and observe a large animal expiring under the
weight of its baneful virulence.
Many have doubted the strength of the wourali
poison. Should they ever by chance read what
follows, probably their doubts on that score will be
settled for ever.
In the former experiment on the hog, some faint
resistance on the part of nature was observed, as if
existence struggled for superiority ; but in the
following instance of the sloth, life sank in death
without the least apparent contention, without a cry,
without a struggle, and without a groan. This was
an Ai, or three- toed-sloth. It was in the possession
of a gentleman, who was collecting curiosities. He
wished to have it killed, in order to preserve the
skin, and the wourali poison was resorted to as the
easiest death.
Of all animals, not even the toad and tortoise
excepted, this poor ill-formed creature is the most
tenacious of life. It exists long after it has received
wounds which would have destroyed any other
animal; and it may be said, on seeing a mortally
wounded sloth, that life disputes with death every
inch of flesh in its body.
SOUTH AMERICA.
The Ai was wounded in the leg, and put down on first
the floor, about two feet from the table ; it con¬
trived to reach the leg of the table and fastened itself
on it, as if wishful to ascend. But this was its last
advancing step : life was ebbing fast, though im¬
perceptibly ; nor could this singular production of
nature, which has been formed of a texture to resist
death in a thousand shapes, make any stand against
the wourali poison.
First, one fore-leg let go its hold, and dropped
down motionless by its side; the other gradually
did the same. The fore-legs having now lost their
strength, the sloth slowly doubled its body, and
placed its head betwixt its hind-legs, which still ad¬
hered to the table ; but when the poison had affected
these also, it sank to the ground, but sank so gently,
that you could not distinguish the movement from
an ordinary motion ; and had you been ignorant that
it was wounded with a poisoned arrow, you would
never have suspected that it was dying. Its mouth
was shut, nor had any froth or saliva collected there.
There was no subsultus tendinum, or any visible
alteration in its breathing. During the tenth minute
from the time it was wounded it stirred, and that was
all ; and the minute after, life’s last spark went out.
From the time the poison began to operate, you
would have conjectured that sleep was overpowering
njt, and you would have exclaimed, “ Pressitque
eentem, dulcis et alta quies, placidaeque simillima
ATxorti.”
There are now two positive proofs of the effect of
WANDERINGS IN
04
FIRST
JOURNF.'1
Experi¬
ment
upon an
ox.
this fatal poison ; viz. the death of the hog, and that
- of the sloth. But still these animals were nothing
remarkable for size ; and the strength of the poison
in large animals might yet be doubted, were it not
for what follows.
A large well-fed ox, from nine hundred to a
thousand pounds’ weight, was tied to a stake by a rope
sufficiently long to allow him to move to and fro.
Having no large Coucourite spikes at hand, it was
judged necessary, on account of his superior size, to
put three wild-hog arrows into him ; one was sent
into each thigh just above the hock, in order to
avoid wounding a vital part, and the third was shot
traversely into the extremity of the nostril.
The poison seemed to take effect in four minutes.
Conscious as though he would fall, the ox set him¬
self firmly on his legs, and remained quite still in
the same place, till about the fourteenth minute,
when he smelled the ground, and appeared as if
inclined to walk. He advanced a pace or two,
staggered, and fell, and remained extended on his side,
with his head on the ground. His eye, a few minutes
ago so bright and lively, now became fixed and dim,
and though you put your hand close to it, as if to
give him a blow there, he never closed his eye-lid.
His legs were convulsed, and his head from time
to time started involuntarily ; but he never showed
the least desire to raise it from the ground ; he
breathed hard, and emitted foam from his moutly
The startings, or subsultus tendinum, now beca
gradually weaker and weaker ; his hinder parts were
SOUTH AMERICA.
65
fixed in death ; and in a minute or two more liis
head and fore-legs ceased to stir.
Nothing now remained to show that life was still
within him, except that his heart faintly beat and
fluttered at intervals. In five and twenty minutes
from the time of his being wounded, he was quite
dead. His flesh was very sweet and savoury at dinner.
On taking a retrospective view of the two different
kinds of poisoned arrows, and the animals destroyed
by them, it would appear that the quantity of poison
must be proportioned to the animal, and thus those
probably labour under an error who imagine that
the smallest particle of it introduced into the blood
has almost instantaneous effects.
Make an estimate of the difference in size betwixt
the fowl and the ox, and then weigh a sufficient
quantity of poison for a blow-pipe arrow, with which
the fowl was killed, and weigh also enough poison
for three wild-hog arrows, which destroyed the ox,
and it will appear that the fowl received much more
poison in proportion than the ox. Hence the cause
why the fowl died in five minutes, and the ox in
five and twenty.
Indeed, were it the case that the smallest particle
of it introduced into the blood has almost instanta¬
neous effects, the Indian would not find it necessary
to make the large arrow ; that of the blow-pipe is
much easier made, and requires less poison.
And now for the antidotes, or rather the supposed
antidotes. The Indians tell you, that if the wounded
animal be held for a considerable time up to the
mouth in water, the poison will not prove fatal ; also
F
FIRST
JOURNEY.
General
observa¬
tions.
Anti¬
dotes.
66
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURXE
Anecdote,
that the juice of the sugar-cane, poured down the
- throat, will counteract the effects of it. These anti¬
dotes were fairly tried upon full-grown healthy fowls,
but they all died, as though no steps had been taken
to preserve their lives. Rum was recommended,
and given to another, but with as little success.
It is supposed by some, that wind introduced into
the lungs by means of a small pair of bellows, would
revive the poisoned patient, provided the operation
be continued for a sufficient length of time. It may
he so : but this is a difficult and a tedious mode of
cure, and he who is wounded in the forest, far away
from his friends, or in the hut of the savages, stands
but a poor chance of being saved by it.
Had the Indians a sure antidote, it is likely they
would carry it about with them, or resort to it imme¬
diately after being wounded, if at hand ; and their
confidence in its efficacy would greatly diminish the
horror they betray when you point a poisoned arrow
at them.
One day, while we were eating a red monkey,
erroneously called the baboon, in Demerara, an
Arowack Indian told an affecting story of what
happened to a comrade of his. He was present at
his death. As it did not interest this Indian in any
point to tell a falsehood, it is very probable that his
account was a true one. If so, it appears that there
is no certain antidote, or, at least, an antidote that
could be resorted to in a case of urgent need ; for
the Indian gave up all thoughts of life as soon as he
was wounded.
The Arowack Indian said it was but four years
SOUTH AMERICA.
67
ago, that he and his companion were ranging in the
forest in quest of game. His companion took a -
poisoned arrow, and sent it at a red monkey in a
tree above him. It was nearly a perpendicular shot.
The arrow missed the monkey, and, in the descent,
struck him in the arm, a little above the elbow.
He was convinced it was all over with him. “ I
shall never/’ said he to his companion, in a faltering
voice, and looking at his bow as he said it, “ I shall
never,” said he, u bend this bow again.” And
having said that, he took off his little bamboo poison
box, which hung across his shoulder, and putting it
together with his bow and arrows on the ground, lie
laid himself down close by them, bid his companion
farewell, and never spoke more.
He who is unfortunate enough to be wounded bv
a poisoned arrow from Macoushia, had better not
depend upon the common antidotes for a cure.
Many who have been in Guiana, will recommend
immediate immersion in water, or to take the juice of
the sugar-cane, or to fill the mouth full of salt ; and
they recommend these antidotes, because they have
got them from the Indians. But were you to ask them
if they ever saw these antidotes used with success, it
is ten to one their answer would be in the negative.
Wherefore let him reject these antidotes as un¬
profitable, and of no avail. He has got an active
and a deadly foe within him, which, like Shakspeare’s
fell Sergeant Death, is strict in his arrest, and will
allow him but little time — very — very little time.
In a few minutes he will be numbered with the dead.
■p o
FIRST
JOURNEY.
68
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
•TOUNRE
Life ought, if possible, to be preserved, be the ex¬
pense ever so great. Should the part affected admit
of it, let a ligature be tied tight round the wound, and
have immediate recourse to the knife :
“Continuo, culpam ferro compesce priusquam,
Dira per infaustum serpant contagia corpus.”
And now, kind reader, it is time to bid thee fare¬
well. The two ends proposed have been obtained.
The Portuguese inland frontier fort has been reached,
and the Macoushi wourali poison acquired. The
account of this excursion through the interior of
Guiana has been submitted to thy perusal, in order
to induce thy abler genius to undertake a more ex¬
tensive one. If any difficulties have arisen, or fevers
come on, they have been caused by the periodical
rains, which fall in torrents as the sun approaches
the tropic of Cancer. In dry weather there would
be no difficulties or sickness.
Amongst the many satisfactory conclusions which
thou wouldst be able to draw during the journey,
there is one which, perhaps, would please thee not a
little; and that is with regard to dogs. Many a
time, no doubt, thou hast heard it hotly disputed,
that dogs existed in Guiana previously to the arrival
of the Spaniards in those parts. Whatever the
Spaniards introduced, and which bore no resem¬
blance to any thing the Indians had been accustomed
to see, retains its Spanish name to this day.
Thus the W arrow, the Arowack, the Acoway, the
Macoushi, and Carib tribes, call a hat, sombrero ;
a shirt, or any kind of cloth, camisa ; a shoe, zapato ;
SOUTH AMERICA.
69
a letter, carta; a fowl, gallina ; gunpowder, colvora,
(Spanish, polvora ;) ammunition, bala; a cow,
vaca ; and a dog, perro.
This argues strongly against the existence of dogs
in Guiana, before it was discovered by the Spaniards,
and probably may be of use to thee, in tbv next
canine dispute.
In a political point of view this country presents
a large field for speculation. A few years ago there
was but little inducement for any Englishman to ex¬
plore the interior of these rich and fine colonies, as
the British government did not consider them worth
holding at the peace of Amiens. Since that period
their mother country has been blotted out from the
list of nations, and America has unfolded a new
sheet of politics. On one side, the crown of Bra-
ganza, attacked by an ambitious chieftain, has fled
from the palace of its ancestors, and now seems
fixed on the banks of the Janeiro. Cayenne has
vielded to its arms. La Plata has raised the standard
V
of independence, and thinks itself sufficiently strong
to obtain a government of its own. On the other
side, the Caraccas are in open revolt, and should
Santa Fe join them in good earnest, they may form
a powerful association.
Thus, on each side of ci-devant Dutch Guiana,
most unexpected and astonishing changes have taken
place. Will they raise or lower it in the scale of
estimation at the Court of St. James’s? Will they
be of benefit to these grand and extensive colonies ?
Colonies enjoying perpetual summer. Colonies of
FIRST
JOURN fY.
Politics.
70
WANDERINGS IN
first the richest soil. Colonies containing within tliem-
JOORNEY.
Colonies, in fine, so varied in their quality and situ¬
ation, as to be capable of bringing to perfection every
want the support of
tropical production ;
government, and an enlightened governor, to render
them as fine as the finest portions of the equatorial
regions. Kind reader, fare thee well.
Letter to the Portuguese Commander.
Muy Senor,
Como no tengo el honor, de ser conocido de VM. lo pienso
mejor, y mas decoroso, quedarme aqui, hastaque huviere reci-
bido su respuesta. Haviendo caminado hasta la chozo, adonde
estoi, no quisiere volverme, antes de haver visto la fortaleza de
los Portugueses ; y pido licencia de YM. para que me adelante.
Honradissimos son mis motivos, ni tengo proyecto ninguno, o
de comercio, o de la soldadesca, no siendo yo, o comerciante, o
oficial. Hidalgo catolico soy, de hacienda in Ynglatierra, y
muchos anos de mi vida he pasado en caminar. Ultimamente, de
Demeraria vengo, la qual dex6 el 5 dia de Abril, para ver este
hermoso pais, y coger unas curiosidades, especialmente, el
veneno, que se llama wourali. Las mas recentes noticias que
tenian en Demeraria, antes de mi salida, eran medias tristes,
medias alegres. Tristes digo, viendo que Valencia ha caido
en poder del enemigo comun, y el General Blake, y sus
valientes tropas quedan prisioneros de guerra. Alegres, al
contrario, porque Milord Wellington se ha apoderado de Ciudad
Rodrigo. A pesar de la caida de Valencia, parece claro al
mundo, que las cosas del enemigo, estan andando, de pejor a
pejor cada dia. Nosotros debemos dar gracias al Altissimo,
por haver sido servido dexarnos castigar ultimamente, a los
robadores de sus santas Yglesias. Se vera VM. que yo no
escribo Portugues ni aun lo hablo, 'pero, haviendo aprendido
SOUTH AMERICA.
71
el Castellano, no nos faltara medio de communicar y tener first
conversacion. Ruego se escuse esta carta escrita sin tinta, J-U-RNF1
porque un Indio dexo caer mi tintero y quebrose. Dios le de
a YM. muchos anos de salud. Entretanto, tengo el honor de ser
Su mas obedeciente servidor,
Carlos YVaterton.
REMARKS.
1 Incertus, quo fata ferant, ubi sistere detur."
Kind and gentle reader, if the journey in quest of
the wourali poison has engaged thy attention, pro¬
bably thou mayest recollect that the traveller took
leave of thee at Fort St. J oachim, on the Rio Branco.
Shouldst thou wish to know what befel him after¬
wards, excuse the following uninteresting narrative.
Having had a return of fever, and aware that the
farther he advanced into these wild and lonely
regions, the less would be the chance of regaining
his health ; he gave up all idea of proceeding on¬
wards, and went slowly back towards the Demerara,
nearly by the same route he had come.
On descending the falls in the Essequibo, which
form an oblique line quite across the river, it was
resolved to push through them, the downward stream
Illness at
Fort St.
Joachim.
Returns
to Deme-i
rara.
Falls of
the Esse¬
quibo,
72
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
JOURNEY.
Thunder
and light¬
ning.
being in the canoe’s favour. At a little distance
from the place, a large tree had fallen into the river,
and in the mean time the canoe was lashed to one
of its branches.
The roaring of the water was dreadful ; it foamed
and dashed over the rocks with a tremendous spray,
like breakers on a lee-shore, threatening destruction
to whatever approached it. You would have thought,
by the confusion it caused in the river, and the
whirlpools it made, that Scylla and Charybdis, and
their whole progeny, had left the Mediterranean,
and come and settled here. The channel was barely
twelve feet wide, and the torrent in rushing down
formed transverse furrows, which showed how near
the rocks were to the surface.
Nothing could surpass the skill of the Indian who
steered the canoe. He looked steadfastly at it, then
at the rocks, then cast an eye on the channel, and
then looked at the canoe again. It was in vain to
speak. The sound was lost in the roar of waters ;
but his eye showed that he had already passed it in
imagination. He held up his paddle in a position,
as much as to say, that he would keep exactly amid
channel ; and then made a sign to cut the bush-rope
that held the canoe to the fallen tree. The canoe
drove down the torrent with inconceivable rapidity.
It did not touch the rocks once all the way. The
Indian proved to a nicety, u medio tutissimus ibis.”
Shortly after this it rained almost day and night,
the lightning flashing incessantly, and the roar of
thunder awful beyond expression.
SOUTH AMERICA.
73
The fever returned, and pressed so heavy on him,
that to all appearance his last day’s march was over.
However, it abated ; his spirits rallied, and he
marched again ; and after delays and inconveniences
he reached the house of his worthy friend Mr.
Edmonstone, in Mibiri creek, which falls into the
Demerara. No words of his can do justice to the
hospitality of that gentleman, whose repeated en¬
counters with the hostile negroes in the forest have
been publicly rewarded, and will be remembered in
the colony for years to come.
Here he learned that an eruption had taken place
in St. Vincent’s ; and thus the noise heard in the
night of the first of May, which had caused such
terror amongst the Indians, and made the garrison
at Fort St. Joachim remain under arms the rest of
the night, is accounted for.
After experiencing every kindness and attention
from Mr. Edmonstone, he sailed for Granada, and
from thence to St. Thomas’s, a few days before poor
Captain Peake lost his life on his own quarter-deck,
bravely fighting for his country on the coast of Guiana.
At St. Thomas’s they show you a tower, a little
distance from the town, which they say formerly
belonged to a Bucanier chieftain. Probably the
fury of besiegers has reduced it to its present dis¬
mantled state. What still remains of it bears testi¬
mony of its former strength, and may brave the
attack of time for centuries. You cannot view its
ruins, without calling to mind the exploits of those
fierce and hardy hunters, long the terror of the
FIRST
JOURN EY
Fever
returned.
Readies
Mibiri
creek.
Sails for
Granada.
St. Tho¬
mas’s
tower.
74
WANDERINGS IN
FIRST
■TOURNEY,
Leaves
St. Tho¬
mas’s,
and is at¬
tacked by
a tertian
ague, and
returns to
England.
Experi¬
ments in
London
of the
Avourali
poison.
western world. While you admire their undaunted
courage, you lament that it was often stained with
cruelty; while you extol their scrupulous justice to
each other, you will find a want of it towards the
rest of mankind. Often possessed of enormous
wealth, often in extreme poverty, often triumphant
on the ocean, and often forced to fly to the forests ;
their life was an ever-changing scene of advance and
retreat, of glory and disorder, of luxury and famine.
Spain treated them as outlaws and pirates, while
other European powers publicly disowned them.
They, on the other hand, maintained, that injustice
on the part of Spain first forced them to take up
arms in self-defence ; and that, whilst they kept in¬
violable the laws which they had framed for their
own common benefit and protection, they had a right
to consider as foes, those who treated them as out¬
laws. Under this impression they drew the sword,
and rushed on as though in lawful war, and divided
the spoils of victory in the scale of justice.
After leaving St. Thomas’s, a severe tertian ague,
every now and then, kept putting the traveller in
mind, that his shattered frame, “ starting and shiver¬
ing in the inconstant blast, meagre and pale, the
ghost of what it was,” wanted repairs. Three years
elapsed after arriving in England, before the ague
took its final leave of him.
During that time, several experiments were made
with the wourali poison. In London, an ass was
inoculated with it, and died in twelve minutes. The
poison was inserted into the leg of another, round
SOUTH AMERICA.
7 5
which a bandage had been previously tied a little first
above the place where the wourali was introduced. - 1~L-1
He walked about as usual, and ate his food as though
all were right. After an hour had elapsed, the
bandage was untied, and ten minutes after death
overtook him.
A she-ass received the wourali poison in the
shoulder, and died apparently in ten minutes. An
incision was then made in its windpipe, and through
it the lungs were regularly inflated for two hours
with a pair of bellows. Suspended animation re¬
turned. The ass held up her head, and looked
around ; but the inflating being discontinued, she
sunk once more in apparent death. The artificial
breathing was immediately recommenced, and con¬
tinued without intermission for two hours more.
This saved the ass from final dissolution ; she rose
up, and walked about ; she seemed neither in agi¬
tation nor in pain. The wound, through which the
poison entered, was healed without difficulty. Her
constitution, however, was so severely affected, that
it was long a doubt if ever she would be well again.
She looked lean and sickly for above a year, but
began to mend the spring after; and by Midsummer
became fat and frisky.
The kind-hearted reader will rejoice on learning
that Earl Percy, pitying her misfortunes, sent her
down from London to Walton Hall, near Wakefield.
There she goes by the name of Wouralia. Wouralia
shall be sheltered from the wintry storm ; and when
summer comes, she shall feed in the finest pasture.
76
WANDERINGS IN
FIR ST
JOURK K
No burden shall be placed upon her, and she shall
- end her days in peace.*
For three revolving autumns, the ague-beaten
wanderer never saw, without a sigh, the swallow
bend her flight towards warmer regions. He wished
to go too, but could not; for sickness had enfeebled
him, and prudence pointed out the folly of roving
again, too soon, across the northern tropic. To be
sure, the continent was now open, and change of
air might prove beneficial; but there was nothing
very tempting in a trip across the channel, and as
for a tour through England ! — England has long
ceased to be the land for adventures. Indeed, when
good King Arthur reappears to claim his crown, he
will find things strangely altered here ; and may we
not look for his coming ? for there is written upon
his grave-stone, —
“Hicjacet Arturus, Rex quondam Rexque futurus.”
“ Here Arthur lies, who formerly
Was king — and king again to be.”
Don Quixote was always of opinion that this
famous king did not die, but that he was changed
into a raven by enchantment, and that the English
are momentarily expecting his return. Be this as
it may, it is certain that when he reigned here, all
was harmony and joy. The browsing herds passed
from vale to vale, the swains sang from the bluebell-
teeming groves, and nymphs, with eglantine and
roses in their neatly-braided hair, went hand in hand
* Poor Wouralia breathed her last on the 15th of February, 1839,
having survived the operation nearly five-and-twenty years.
SOUTH AMERICA.
77
to the flowery mead, to weave garlands for their first
lambkins. If by chance some rude uncivil fellow - —
dared to molest them, or attempted to throw thorns
in their path, there was sure to be a knight-errant,
not far off, ready to rush forward in their defence.
But, alas ! in these degenerate days it is not so.
Should a harmless cottage maid wander out of the
highway to pluck a primrose or two in the neigh¬
bouring field, the haughty owner sternly bids her
retire ; and if a pitying swain hasten to escort her
back, he is perhaps seized by the gaunt house-dog
ere he reach her !
^Eneas’s route on the other side of Styx, could
not have been much worse than this, though, by his
account, when he got back to earth, it appears that
he had fallen in with “ Bellua Lernae, horrendum
stridens, flammisque, armata Chimaera.”
Moreover, he had a sibyl to guide his steps ; and
as such a conductress, now-a-days, could not be got
for love or money, it was judged most prudent to
refrain from sauntering through this land of freedom,
and wait with patience the return of health. At last
this long-looked for, ever- welcome stranger came.
78
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
Sails for
Pernam¬
buco.
Trade
v.'inds.
SECOND JOURNEY.
In the year 1816, two days before the vernal
equinox, I sailed from Liverpool for Pernambuco,
in the southern hemisphere, on the coast of Brazil.
There is little at this time of the year, in the European
part of the Atlantic, to engage the attention of the
naturalist. As you go down the channel, you see a
few divers and gannets. The middle-sized gulls,
with a black spot at the end of the wings, attend
you a little way into the Bay of Biscay. When it
blows a hard gale of wind, the stormy petrel makes
its appearance. While the sea runs mountains high,
and every wave threatens destruction to the labouring
vessel, this little harbinger of storms is seen enjoying
itself, on rapid pinion, up and down the roaring-
billows. When the storm is over, it appears no more.
It is known to every English sailor, by the name of
Mother Carey’s chicken. It must have been hatched
in bolus’s cave, amongst a clutch of squalls and
tempests ; for, whenever they get out upon the ocean,
it always contrives to be of the party.
Though the calms, and storms, and adverse winds
in these latitudes are vexatious, still, when you reach
the trade winds .you are amply repaid for all disap-
SOUTH AMERICA*
79
pointmeiits and inconveniences. The trade winds SECOND
prevail about thirty degrees on each side of the — -
equator. This part of the ocean may be called the
Elysian Fields of Neptune’s empire; and the torrid
zone, notwithstanding Ovid’s remark, “ non est
habitabilis aestu,” is rendered healthy and pleasant
by these gently-blowing breezes. The ship glides
smoothly on, and you soon find yourself within the
northern tropic. When you are on it, Cancer is
just over your head, and betwixt him and Capricorn
is the high road of the zodiac, forty-seven degrees
wide, famous for Phaeton’s misadventure. His
father begged and entreated him not to take it into
his head to drive parallel to the five zones, but to
mind and keep on the turnpike which runs obliquely
across the equator. “ There you will distinctly see,”
said he, u the ruts of my chariot wheels, ‘ manifesta
rotae vestigia cernes.’ ” “ But,” added he, u even
suppose you keep on it, and avoid the by-roads,
nevertheless, my dear boy, believe me, you will be
most sadly put to your shifts ; ‘ ardua prima via
est,’ the first part of the road is confoundedly steep !
( ultima via prona est,’ and after that, it is all down
hill ! Moreover, ‘ per insidias iter est, formasque
ferarum,’ the road is full of nooses and bull-dogs,
i Haemoniosque arcus,’ and spring guns, ‘ saevaque
circuitu, curvantem brachia longo, Scorpio,’ and
steel traps of uncommon size and shape.” These
were nothing in the eyes of Phaeton ; go he would,
so off he set, full speed, four-in-hand. He had a
tough drive of it ; and after doing a prodigious deal
80
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY
Torrid
Zone.
Flying
fish.
of mischief, very luckily for the world, he got thrown
: out of the box, and tumbled into the river Po.
Some of our modern bloods have been shallow
enough to try to ape this poor empty-headed coach¬
man, on a little scale, making London their Zodiac.
Well for them, if tradesmen’s bills, and other trivial
perplexities, have not caused them to be thrown into
the King’s Bench.
The productions of the torrid zone are uncom¬
monly grand. Its plains, its swamps, its savannas,
and forests, abound with the largest serpents and
wild beasts ; and its trees are the habitation of the
most beautiful of the feathered race. While the
traveller in the old world is astonished at the elephant,
the tiger, the lion, and the rhinoceros, he who
wanders through the torrid regions of the new, is
lost in admiration at the cotingas, the toucans, the
humming-birds, and aras.
The ocean, likewise, swarms with curiosities.
Probably the flying-fish may be considered as one
of the most singular. This little scaled inhabitant
of water and air seems to have been more favoured
than the rest of its finny brethren. It can rise out of
the waves, and on wing visit the domain of the birds.
After flying two or three hundred yards, the in¬
tense heat of the sun has dried its pellucid wings,
and it is obliged to wet them, in order to continue
its flight. It just drops into the ocean for a moment,
and then rises again and flies on ; and then descends
to remoisten them, and then up again into the air ;
thus passing its life, sometimes wet, sometimes dry,
SOUTH AMERICA.
81
sometimes in sunshine, and sometimes in the pale second
moon’s nightly beam, as pleasure dictates, or as Jotm>l F—
need requires. The additional assistance of wings is
not thrown away upon it. It has full occupation both
for fins and wings, as its life is in perpetual danger.
The bonito and albicore chase it day and night ;
but the dolphin is its worst and swiftest foe. If it
escape into the air, the dolphin pushes on with pro¬
portional velocity beneath, and is ready to snap it
up the moment it descends to wet its wings.
You will often see above one hundred of these
little marine aerial fugitives on the wing at once.
They appear to use every exertion to prolong their
flight, but vain are all their efforts ; for when the
last drop of water on their wings is dried up, their
.flight is at an end, and they must drop into the
ocean. Some are instantly devoured by their mer¬
ciless pursuer, part escape by swimming, and others
get out again as quick as possible, and trust once
more to their wings.
It often happens that this unfortunate little crea¬
ture, after alternate dips and flights, finding all
its exertions of no avail, at last drops on board the
vessel, verifying the old remark,
“ Incidit in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim ”
There, stunned by the fall, it beats the deck with
its tail and dies. When eating it, you would take it
for a fresh herring. The largest measure from four¬
teen to fifteen inches in length. The dolphin, after
pursuing it to the ship, sometimes forfeits his own life.
In days of yore, the musician used to play in
G
82
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY
Frigate
Pelican.
softest, sweetest strain, and then take an airing
amongst the dolphins ; “ inter delphinas Arion.”
But now-a-days, our tars have quite capsized the
custom ; and instead of riding ashore on the dolphin,
they invite the dolphin aboard. While he is darting
and playing around the vessel, a sailor goes out to
the spritsailyard-arm, and with a long staff, leaded
at one end, and armed at the other with five barbed
spikes, he heaves it at him. If successful in his aim,
there is a fresh mess for all hands. The dying
dolphin affords a superb and brilliant sight :
“ Mille traliit moriens, adverso sole colores.”
All the colours of the rainbow pass and repass in
rapid succession over his body, till the dark hand of
death closes the scene.
From the Cape de Verd islands, to the coast of
Brazil, you see several different kinds of gulls,
which, probably, are bred in the island of St. Paul.
Sometimes the large bird called the Frigate Pelican,
soars majestically over the vessel, and the tropic
bird comes near enough to let you have a fair view
of the long feathers in his tail. On the line, when it
is calm, sharks of a tremendous size make their ap¬
pearance. They are descried from the ship by
means of the dorsal fin, which is above the water.
On entering the bay of Pernambuco, the Frigate
Pelican is seen watching the shoals of fish from a
prodigious height. It seldom descends without a
successful attack on its numerous prey below.
As you approach the shore, the view is charming.
The hills are clothed with wood, gradually rising
%
Scenery.
SOUTH AMERICA.
83
towards the interior, none of them of any consider- second
able height. A singular reef of rocks runs parallel -
to the coast, and forms the harbour of Pernambuco.
The vessels are moored betwixt it and the town, safe
from every storm. You enter the harbour through
a very narrow passage, close by a fort built on the
reef. The hill of Olinda, studded with houses and
convents, is on your right hand, and an island
thickly planted with cocoa-nut trees, adds consider¬
ably to the scene on your left. There are two
strong forts on the isthmus, betwixt Olinda and
Pernambuco, and a pillar midway to aid the pilot.
Pernambuco probably contains upwards of fifty Pemam-
thousand souls. It stands on a flat, and is divided
into three parts ; a peninsula, an island, and the
continent. Though within a few degrees of the line,
its climate is remarkably salubrious, and rendered
almost temperate by the refreshing sea breeze. Had
art and judgment contributed their portion to its
natural advantages, Pernambuco, at this day, would
have been a stately ornament to the coast of Brazil.
On viewing it, it will strike you that every one has
built his house entirely for himself, and deprived
public convenience of the little claim she had a right
to put in. You would wish that this city, so famous
for its harbour, so happy in its climate, and so well
situated for commerce, could have risen under the
flag of Dido, in lieu of that of Braganza.
As you walk down the streets, the appearance of streets
the houses is not much in their favour. Some of houses,
them are very high, and some very low 5 some newly
84
WANDERINGS IN
second whitewashed, and others stained, and mouldy, and
•TOURNEY. i i i i ~i i i
- neglected, as though they had no owner.
The balconies, too, are of a dark and gloomy ap¬
pearance. They are not, in general, open, as in
most tropical cities, but grated like a farmer’s dairy
window, though somewhat closer.
There is a lamentable want of cleanliness in the
streets. The impurities from the houses, and the
accumulation of litter from the beasts of burden, are
unpleasant sights to the passing stranger. He
laments the want of a police as he goes along ; and
when the wind begins to blow, his nose and eyes are
too often exposed to a cloud of very unsavoury dust.
Port of When you view the port of Pernambuco, full of
buco. ships of all nations, when you know that the richest
commodities of Europe, Africa, and Asia, are brought
to it ; when you see immense quantities of cotton,
dye-wood, and the choicest fruits pouring into the
town, you are apt to wonder at the little attention
these people pay to the common comforts which one
always expects to find in a large and opulent city.
However, if the inhabitants are satisfied, there is
nothing more to be said. Should they ever be con¬
vinced that inconveniences exist, and that nuisances
are too frequent, the remedy is in their own hands.
At present, certainly, they seem perfectly regardless
of them ; and the Captain- General of Pernambuco
walks through the streets writh as apparent content
and composure, as an English statesman would pro¬
ceed down Charing-cross. Custom reconciles every
thing. In a week or two the stranger himself
SOUTH AMERICA.
$5
begins to feel less the things which annoyed him so
much upon his first arrival, and after a few months’
residence, he thinks no more about them, while he
is partaking of the hospitality, and enjoying the
elegance and splendour within doors in this great city.
Close by the river-side stands what is called the
palace of the Captain- General of Pernambuco. Its
form and appearance altogether, strike the traveller
that it was never intended for the use it is at present
put to.
Reader, throw a veil over thy recollection for a
little while, and forget the cruel, unjust, and un¬
merited censures thou hast heard against an unof¬
fending order. This palace was once the Jesuits’
college, and originally built by those charitable fathers.
Ask the aged and respectable inhabitants of Per¬
nambuco, and they will tell thee that the destruction of
the Society of J esus was a terrible disaster to the public,
and its consequences severely felt to the present day.
When Pombal took the reins of power into his
own hands, virtue and learning beamed bright
within the college walls. Public catechism to the
children, and religious instruction to all, flowed daily
from the mouths of its venerable priests.
They were loved, revered, and respected through¬
out the whole town. The illuminating philosophers
of the day had sworn to exterminate Christian know¬
ledge, and the college of Pernambuco was doomed
to founder in the general storm. To the long-lasting
sorrow and disgrace of Portugal, the philosophers
blinded her king, and flattered her prime minister.
SECOND
JOURN KY.
Palace
of the
Captain-
General.
Destruc¬
tion of the
Society
of Jesus.
86
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
.TOURNEY,
Pombal was exactly the tool these sappers of every
public and private virtue wanted. He had the
naked sword of power in his own hand, and his
heart was hard as flint. He struck a mortal blovr,
and the Society of Jesus, throughout the Portuguese
dominions, was no more.
One morning all the fathers of the college in
Pernambuco, some of them very old and feeble,
were suddenly ordered into the refectory. They
had notice beforehand of the fatal storm, in pity from
the governor, but not one of them abandoned his
charge. They had done their duty, and had nothing
to fear. They bowed with resignation to the will of
heaven. As soon as they had all reached the refectory,
they were there locked up, and never more did they
see their rooms, their friends, their scholars, or ac¬
quaintance. In the dead of the following night, a
strong guard of soldiers literally drove them through
the streets to the water’s edge. They were then
conveyed in boats aboard a ship, and steered for
Bahia. Those who survived the barbarous treat¬
ment they experienced from Pombal’s creatures,
■were at last ordered to Lisbon. The college of
Pernambuco was plundered, and some time after an
elephant was kept there.
Thus the arbitrary hand of power, in one night,
smote and swept away the sciences ; to which suc¬
ceeded the low vulgar buffoonery of a showman.
Virgil and Cicero made way for a wild beast from
Angola ! and now a guard is on duty at the very gate
where, in times long past, the poor were daily fed ! ! !
SOUTH AMERICA.
Trust not, kind reader, to the envious remarks
which their enemies have scattered far and near ;
believe not the stories of those who have had a hand
in the sad tragedy. Go to Brazil, and see with
thine own eyes the effect of Pombal’s short-sighted
policy. There vice reigns triumphant, and learning
is at its lowest ebb. Neither is this to be wondered
at. Destroy the compass, and will the vessel find
her far distant port ? Will the flock keep together,
and escape the wolves, after the shepherds are all
slain ? The Brazilians were told, that public edu¬
cation would go on just as usual. They might have
asked government, who so able to instruct our
youth, as those whose knowledge is proverbial ? who
so fit, as those who enjoy our entire confidence ? who
so worthy, as those whose lives are irreproachable ?
They soon found that those who succeeded the
fathers of the Society of Jesus, had neither their
manner nor their abilities. They had not made the
instruction of youth their particular study. More¬
over, they entered on the field after a defeat, where
the officers had all been slain ; where the plan of
the campaign was lost ; where all was in sorrow and
dismay. No exertions of theirs could rally the dis¬
persed, or skill prevent the fatal consequences. At
the present day, the seminary of Olinda, in com¬
parison with the former J esuits’ college, is only as
the waning moon’s beam to the sun’s meridian
splendour.
When you visit the places where those learned
fathers once flourished, and see, with your own eyes,
88
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
tlie evils tlieir dissolution has caused ; when you
hear the inhabitants telling you how good, how
clever, how charitable they were; what will you
think of our poet laureate, for calling them, in his
“ History of Brazil/' u Missioners, whose zeal the
most fanatical was directed by the coolest policy ?”
Was it fanatical to renounce the honours and
comforts of this transitory life, in order to gain
eternal glory in the next, by denying themselves, and
taking up the cross? Was it fanatical to preach
salvation to innumerable wild hordes of Americans ?
to clothe the naked ? to encourage the repenting
sinner ? to aid the dying Christian ? The fathers of
the Society of Jesus did all this. And for this their
zeal is pronounced to be the most fanatical, directed
by the coolest policy. It will puzzle many a clear .
brain to comprehend how it is possible, in the nature
of things, that zeal the most fanatical should be
directed by the coolest policy. Ah, Mr. Laureate,
Mr. Laureate, that u quidlibet audendi” of yours,
may now and then gild the poet, at the same time
that it makes the historian cut a sorry figure !
Could Father Nobrega rise from the tomb, he
would thus address you : — “ Ungrateful Englishman,
you have drawn a great part of your information
from the writings of the Society of Jesus, and in
return you attempt to stain its character by telling
your countrymen that 1 we taught the idolatry we
believed !’ In speaking of me, you say, it was my
happy fortune to be stationed in a country where
none but the good principles of my order were called
SOUTH AMERICA.
89
into action. Ungenerous laureate, the narrow policy
of the times has kept your countrymen in the dark
with regard to the true character of the Society of
Jesus; and you draw the bandage still tighter over
their eyes, by a malicious insinuation. I lived, and
taught, and died in Brazil, where you state that
none but the good principles of my order were-called
into action, and still, in most absolute contradiction
to this, you remark we believed the idolatry we
taught in Brazil. Thus we brought none but good
principles into action, and still taught idolatry !
“ Again, you state there is no individual to whose
talents Brazil is so greatly and permanently indebted
as mine, and that I must be regarded as the founder
of that system so successfully pursued by the jesuits
in Paraguay ; a system productive of as much good
as is compatible with pious fraud. Thus you make
me, at one and the same time, a teacher of none
but good principles, and a teacher of idolatry, and a
a believer in idolatry, and still the founder of a sys¬
tem for which Brazil is greatly and permanently
indebted to me, though, by the by, the system was
only productive of as much good as is compatible
with pious fraud !
“ What means all this ? After reading such in¬
comparable nonsense, should your countrymen wish
to be properly informed concerning the Society of
Jesus, there are in England documents enough to
show that the system of the jesuits was a system of
Christian charity towards their fellow-creatures, ad¬
ministered in a manner which human prudence
SECONJT
TOURNEY.
90
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
Environs
of Per¬
nambuco.
judged best calculated to ensure success ; and that
the idolatry which you uncharitably affirm they
taught, was really and truly the very same faith
which the Catholic church taught for centuries in
England, which she still teaches to those who wish
to hear her, and which she will continue to teach,
pure and unspotted, till time shall be no more.”
The environs of Pernambuco are very pretty. You
see country houses in all directions, and the appear¬
ance of here and there a sugar plantation enriches
the scenery. Palm-trees, cocoa-nut- trees, orange
and lemon groves, and all the different fruits peculiar
to Brazil, are here in the greatest abundance.
At Olinda there is a national botanical garden ;
it wants space, produce, and improvement. The
forests, which are. several leagues off, abound with
birds, beasts, insects, and serpents. Besides a
brilliant plumage, many of the birds have a very
fine song. The troupiale, noted for its rich colours,
sings delightfully in the environs of Pernambuco.
The red-headed finch, larger than the European
sparrow, pours forth a sweet and varied strain, in
company with two species of wrens, a little before
daylight. There are also several species of the
thrush, which have a song somewhat different from
that of the European thrush ; and two species of the
linnet, whose strain is so soft and sweet that it dooms
them to captivity in the houses. A bird called here
Sangre do Buey, blood of the ox, cannot fail to
engage your attention : he is of the passerine tribe,
and very common about the houses ; the wings and
SOUTH AMERICA.
91
tail are black, and every other part of the body a SECOND
flaming red. In Guiana, there is a species exactly - 1
the same as this in shape, note, and economy, but
differing in colour, its whole body being like black
velvet ; on its breast a tinge of red appears through
the black. Thus nature has ordered this little
Tangara to put on mourning to the north of the line,
and wear scarlet to the south of it.
For three months in the year the environs of Seasons.
Pernambuco are animated beyond description . From
N ovember to March the weather is particularly fine ;
then it is that rich and poor, young and old, foreigners
and natives, all issue from the city to enjoy the
country till Lent approaches, when back they hie
them. Villages and hamlets, where nothing before
but rags was seen, now shine in all the elegance of
dress ; every house, every room, every shed become
eligible places for those whom nothing but extreme
necessity could have forced to live there a few weeks
ago : some join in the merry dance, others saunter
up and down the orange-groves ; and towards
evening the roads become a moving scene of silk and
jewels. The gaming-tables have constant visitors ;
there thousands are daily and nightly lost and won ;
parties even sit down to try their luck round the
outside of the door as well as in the room : —
“ Vestibulum ante ipsum primisque in faucibus aulae
Luctus et ultrices, posuere sedilia curse.”
About six or seven miles from Pernambuco stands Monteiro.
a pretty little village called Monteiro ; the river runs
close by it, and its rural beauties seem to surpass all
92
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
others in the neighbourhood ; there the Captain-
General of Pernambuco resides during this time of
merriment and joy.
The traveller, who allots a portion of his time to
peep at his fellow-creatures in their relaxations, and
accustoms himself to read their several little histories
in their looks and gestures as he goes musing on,
may have full occupation for an hour or two every
day at this season amid the variegated scenes around
the pretty village of Monteiro. In the evening
groups sitting at the door, he may sometimes see
with a sigh how wealth and the prince’s favour
cause a booby to pass for a Solon, and be reverenced
as such, while perhaps a poor neglected Camoens
stands silent at a distance, awed by the dazzling glare
of wealth and power. Retired from the public road
he may see poor Maria sitting under a palm-tree,
with her elbow in her lap, and her head leaning on
one side within her hand, weeping over her for¬
bidden bans. And as he moves on “ with wandering;
step and slow,” he may hear a broken-hearted
nymph ask her faithless swain, —
“ How could you say my face was fair,
And yet that face forsake ?
How could you win my virgin heart,
Yet leave that heart to break 1”
One afternoon, in an unfrequented part not far
from Monteiro, these adventures were near being
brought to a speedy and a final close : six or seven
blackbirds, with a white spot betwixt the shoulders,
were making a noise, and passing to and fro on the
lower branches of a tree in an abandoned, weed-
SOUTH AMERICA.
93
grown, orange orchard. In the long grass under- second
neath the tree, apparently a pale green grasshopper --URNEY'
was fluttering, as though it had got entangled in it.
When you once fancy that the thing you are looking
at is really what you take it for, the more you look
at it the more you are convinced it is so. In the
present case, this was a grasshopper beyond all
doubt, and nothing more remained to be done but to
wait in patience till it had settled, in order that you
might run no risk of breaking its legs in attempting
to lay hold of it while it was fluttering — it still kept
fluttering ; and having quietly approached it, in¬
tending to make sure of it — behold, the head of a
large rattlesnake appeared in the grass close by : an
instantaneous spring backwards prevented fatal con¬
sequences. What had been taken for a grasshopper
was, in fact, the elevated rattle of the snake in the
act of announcing that he was quite prepared, though
unwilling, to make a sure and deadly spring. He
shortly after passed slowly from under the orange-
tree to the neighbouring; wood on the side of a hill :
as he moved over a place bare of grass and weeds,
he appeared to be about eight feet long : it was he
who had engaged the attention of the birds, and
made them heedless of danger from another quarter :
they flew away on his retiring ; one alone left his
little life in the air, destined to become a specimen,
mute and motionless, for the inspection of the curious
in a far distant clime.
It was now the rainy season ; the birds were Rainy
moulting ; fifty-eight specimens of the handsomest Seasons*
94
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY
Embarks
for Cay¬
enne.
of them in the neighbourhood of Pernambuco had
been collected ; and it was time to proceed elsewhere.
The conveyance to the interior was by horses ; and
this mode, together with the heavy rains, would ex¬
pose preserved specimens to almost certain damage.
The journey to Maranham by land, would take at
least forty days. The route was not wild enough to
engage the attention of an explorer, or civilized
enough to afford common comforts to a traveller.
By sea there were no opportunities, except slave
ships. As the transporting poor negroes from port
to port for sale pays well in Brazil, the ships’ decks
are crowded Avith them. This Avould not do.
Excuse here, benevolent reader, a small tribute of
gratitude to an Irish family, whose urbanity and
goodness have long gained it the esteem and respect
of all ranks in Pernambuco. The kindness and at¬
tention I received from Dennis Kearney, Esq. and
his amiable lady, will be remembered with gratitude
to my dying day.
After wishing farewell to this hospitable family,
I embarked on board a Portuguese brig, Avith poor
accommodations, for Cayenne in Guiana. The most
eligible bed-room Avas the top of a hen-coop on deck.
Even here, an unsavoury little beast, called bug,
Avas neither shy nor deficient in appetite.
The Portuguese seamen are famed for catching
fish. One evening, under the line, four sharks made
their appearance in the wake of the vessel. The
sailors caught them all.
On the fourteenth day after leaving Pernambuco,
SOUTH AMERICA.
95
the brig cast anchor off the island of Cayenne. The second
entrance is beautiful. To windward, not far off, JOURN.—
there are two bold wooded islands, called the Father
and Mother; and near them are others, their chil¬
dren, smaller, though as beautiful as their parents.
Another is seen a long way to leeward of the family,
and seems as if it had strayed from home, and cannot
find his way back. The French call it u 1’ enfant
perdu.” As you pass the islands, the stately hills
on the main, ornamented writh ever- verdant foliage,
show you that this is by far the sublimest scenery on
the sea-coast, from the Amazons to the Oroonoquo.
On casting your eye towards Dutch Guiana, you
will see that the mountains become unconnected, and
few in number, and long before you reach Surinam,
the Atlantic wave washes a flat and muddy shore.
Considerably to windward of Cayenne, and about Constable
twelve leagues from land, stands a stately and tower¬
ing rock, called the Constable. As nothing grows
on it to tempt greedy and aspiring man to claim it
as his own, the sea-fowl rest and raise their offspring
there. The bird called the frigate is ever soaring
round its rugged summit. Hither the phaeton bends
his rapid flight, and flocks of rosy flamingos here
defy the fowler’s cunning. All along the coast,
opposite the Constable, and indeed on every uncul¬
tivated part of it to windward and leeward, are seen
innumerable quantities of snow-white egrets, scarlet
curlews, spoonbills, and flamingos.
Cayenne is capable of being a noble and productive Colony of
colony. At present it is thought to be the poorest Cayenne‘
9G
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
The town.
Governor
of Cay¬
enne.
The Inha¬
bitants.
on the coast of Guiana. Its estates are too much
separated one from the other, by immense tracts of
forest ; and the revolutionary war, like a cold eastern
wind, has chilled their zeal, and blasted their best
expectations.
The clove-tree, the cinnamon, pepper and nutmeg,
and many other choice spices and fruits of the
eastern and Asiatic regions, produce abundantly in
Cayenne.
The town itself is prettily laid out, and was once
well fortified. They tell you it might easily have
been defended against the invading force of the two
united nations ; but Victor Hugues, its governor,
ordered the tri-coloured flag to be struck ; and ever
since that day, the standard of Braganza has waved
on the ramparts of Cayenne.
He who has received humiliations from the hand
of this haughty, iron-hearted governor, may see him
now in Cayenne, stripped of all his revolutionary
honours, broken down and ruined, and under arrest
in his own house. He has four accomplished
daughters, respected by the whole town. Towards
the close of day, when the sun’s rays are no longer
oppressive, these much-pitied ladies are seen walking
up and down the balcony with their aged parent,
trying, by their kind and filial attention, to remove
the settled gloom from his too guilty brow.
This was not the time for a traveller to enjoy
Cayenne. The hospitality of the inhabitants was the
same as ever, but they had lost their wonted gaiety
in public, and the stranger might read in their coun-
SOUTH AMERICA.
97
tenances, as the recollection of recent humiliations second
and misfortunes every now and then kept breaking J0UR--*— '
in upon them, that they were still in sorrow for their
fallen country : the victorious hostile cannon of
W aterloo still sounded in their ears : their Emperor
was a prisoner amongst the hideous rocks of St.
Helena; and many a Frenchman who had fought
and bled for France was now amongst them, begging
for a little support to prolong a life which would be
forfeited on the parent soil. To add another hand¬
ful to the cypress and wormwood already scattered
amongst these polite colonists, they had just received
orders from the court of Janeiro to put on deep
mourning for six months, and half-mourning for as
many more, on account of the death of the queen
of Portugal.
About a day’s journey in the interior, is the cele¬
brated national plantation. This spot was judiciously
chosen, for it is out of the reach of enemies’ cruisers.
It is called La Gabrielle. No plantation in the
western world can vie with La Gabrielle. Its spices pianta-
are of the choicest kind ; its soil particularly favour- Gabrielle.
able to them ; its arrangements beautiful ; and its
directeur, Monsieur Martin, a botanist of first-rate
abilities. This indefatigable naturalist ranged through
the East, under a royal commission, in quest of bo¬
tanical knowlege; and during his stay in the western
regions, has sent over to Europe from twenty to
twenty-five thousand specimens, in botany and zoo¬
logy. La Gabrielle is on a far-extending range of
woody hills. Figure to yourself a hill in the shape
H
98
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
The Cock
of the
Rock.
of a bowl reversed, with the buildings on the top of
it, and you will have an idea of the appearance of
La Gabrielle. You approach the house through a
noble avenue, five hundred toises long, of the choicest
tropical fruit-trees, planted with the greatest care and
judgment ; and should you chance to stray through
it, after sunset, when the clove-trees are in blossom,
you wmdd fancy yourself in the Idalian groves, or
near the banks of the Nile, where they were burning
the finest incense, as the queen of Egypt passed.
On La Gabrielle there are twenty-two thousand
clove-trees in full bearing. They are planted thirty
feet asunder. Their lower branches touch the ground.
In general the trees are topped at five and twenty
feet high ; though you will see some here towering
up above sixty. The black pepper, the cinnamon,
and nutmeg are also in great abundance here, and
very productive.
While the stranger views the spicy groves of La
Gabrielle, and tastes the most delicious fruits which
have originally been imported hither from all parts
of the tropical world, he will thank the government
which has supported, and admire the talents of the
gentleman who has raised to its present grandeur,
this noble collection of useful fruits. There is a
large nursery attached to La Gabrielle, where plants
of all the different species are raised and distributed
gratis to those colonists who wish to cultivate them.
Not far from the banks of the river Oyapoc, to
windward of Cayenne, is a mountain which contains
an immense cavern. Here the Cock of the Rock is
SOUTH AMERICA.
99
plentiful. He is about the size of a fan-tail pigeon, second
bis colour a bright orange, and his wings and tail JOTTRN— ’
appear as though fringed ; his head is ornamented
with a superb double-feathery crest, edged with
purple. He passes the day amid gloomy damps
and silence, and only issues out for food a short time
at sunrise and sunset. He is of the gallinaceous
tribe. The South- American Spaniards call him
u Gallo del Rio Negro/’ (Cock of the Black River,)
and suppose that he is only to be met with in the
vicinity of that far-inland stream; but he is common
in the interior of Demerara, amongst the huge rocks
in the forests of Macoushia ; and he has been shot
south of the line, in the captainship of Para.
The bird called by Buffon Grand Gobe-mouche,
has never been found in Demerara, although very
common in Cayenne. He is not quite so large as
the jackdaw, and is entirely black,' except a large
spot under the throat, which is a glossy purple.
You may easily sail from Cayenne to the river Parama-
Surinam in two days. Its capital, Paramaribo, is
handsome, rich, and populous : hitherto it has been
considered by far the finest town in Guiana; but
probably the time is not far off when the capital
of Demerara may claim the prize of superiority.
You may enter a creek above Paramaribo, and
travel through the interior of Surinam, till you
come to the Nicari, which is close to the large river
Coryntin. When you have passed this river, there
is a good public road to New Amsterdam, the capital
of Berbice.
h 2
100
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
New Am¬
sterdam.
Deme-
rara.
On viewing New Amsterdam, it will immediately
strike you that something or other has intervened to
prevent its arriving at that state of wealth and con¬
sequence for which its original plan shows it was
once intended. What has caused this stop in its
progress to the rank of a fine and populous city,
remains for those to find out who are interested in
it ; certain it is, that New Amsterdam has been lan¬
guid for some years, and now the tide of commerce
seems ebbing fast from the shores of Berbiee.
Gay and blooming is the sister colony of Deme-
rara. Perhaps, kind reader, thou hast not forgot
that it was from Stabroek, the capital of Demerara,
that the adventurer set out, some years ago, to reach
the Portuguese frontier fort, and collect the wourali
poison. It was not intended, when this second sally
was planned in England, to have visited Stabroek
again by the route here described. The plan was,
to have ascended the Amazons from Para, and got
into the Rio Negro, and from thence to have re¬
turned towards the source of the Essequibo, in order
to examine the crystal mountains, and look once
more for Lake Parima, or the White Sea ; but on
arriving at Cayenne, the current was running with
such amazing rapidity to leeward, that a Portuguese
sloop, which had been beating up towards Para for
four weeks, was then only half way. Finding, there¬
fore, that a beat to the Amazons would be long,
tedious, and even uncertain, and aware that the
season for procuring birds with fine plumage had
already set in, I left Cayenne in an American ship
\
SOUTH AMERICA. 101
for Paramaribo, went through the interior to the second
Coryntin, stopped a few days in New Amsterdam,
and proceeded to Demerara. If, gentle reader, thy
patience be not already worn out, and thy eyes half
closed in slumber, by perusing the dull adventures
of this second sally, perhaps thou wilt pardon a line
or two on Demerara ; and then we will retire to its
forests, to collect and examine the economy of its
most rare and beautiful birds, and give the world a
new mode of preserving them.
Stabroek, the capital of Demerara, has been stabroek.
rapidly increasing for some years back ; and if
prosperity go hand in hand with the present enter¬
prising spirit, Stabroek, ere long, will be of the first
colonial consideration. It stands on the eastern
bank at the mouth of the Demerara, and enjoys all
the advantages of the refreshing sea breeze ; the
streets are spacious, well bricked, and elevated, the
trenches clean, the bridges excellent, and the houses
handsome. Almost every commodity and luxury of
London may be bought in the shops at Stabroek :
its market wants better regulations. The hotels are
commodious, clean, and well attended. Demerara
boasts as fine and well-disciplined militia as any
colony in the western world.
The court of justice, where, in times of old, the court of
bandage was easily removed from the eyes of the Justlce-
goddess, and her scales thrown out of equilibrium,
now rises in dignity under the firmness, talents, and
urbanity of Mr. President Rough.
The plantations have an appearance of high cul- Thepian-
tivation; a tolerable idea may be formed of their atlons‘
102
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
Slavery.
value, when you know that last year Demerara
numbered seventy- two thousand nine hundred and
ninety-nine slaves. They made about forty-four
million pounds of sugar, near two million gallons of
rum, above eleven million pounds of coffee, and
three million eight hundred and nineteen thousand
five hundred and twelve pounds of cotton ; the
receipt into the public chest was five hundred and
fifty-three thousand nine hundred and fifty-six
guilders ; the public expenditure, four hundred
and fifty-one thousand six hundred and three
guilders.
Slavery can never be defended ; he whose heart is
not of iron can never wish to be able to defend it :
while he heaves a sigh for the poor negro in captivity,
he wishes from his soul that the traffic had been
stifled in its birth ; but, unfortunately, the govern¬
ments of Europe nourished it, and now that they are
exerting themselves to do away the evil, and ensure
liberty to the sons of Africa, the situation of the
plantation slaves is depicted as truly deplorable, and
their condition wretched. It is not so. A Briton’s
heart, proverbially kind and generous, is not changed
by climate, or its streams of compassion dried up by
the scorching heat of a Demerara sun ; he cheers
his negroes in labour, comforts them in sickness, is
kind to them in old age, and never forgets that they
are his fellow- creatures.
Instances of cruelty and depravity certainly occur
here as well as all the world over ; but the edicts of
the colonial government are well calculated to pre¬
vent them ; and the British planter, except here and
SOUTH AMERICA.
103
there one, feels for the wrongs clone to a poor ill-
treated slave, and shows that his heart grieves for
him by causing immediate redress, and preventing
a repetition.
Long may ye flourish, peaceful and liberal inha¬
bitants of Demerara. Your doors are ever open to
harbour the harbourless ; your purses never shut to
the wants of the distressed : many a ruined fugitive
from Oroonoque will bless your kindness to him in
the hour of need, when flying from the woes of civil
discord, without food or raiment, he begged for
shelter underneath your roof. The poor sufferer in
Trinidad, who lost his all in the devouring flames,
will remember your charity to his latest moments.
The traveller as he leaves your port, casts a longing
lingering look behind; your attentions, your hos¬
pitality, your pleasantry and mirth are uppermost in
his thoughts ; your prosperity is close to his heart.
Let us now, gentle reader, retire from the busy
scenes of man, and journey on towards the wilds in
quest of the feathered tribe.
Leave behind you your high-seasoned dishes, your
wines, and your delicacies ; carry nothing but what
is necessary for your own comfort, and the object in
view, and depend upon the skill of an Indian, or
your own, for fish and game. A sheet, about
twelve feet long, ten wide, painted, and with loop¬
holes on each side, will be of great service ; in a few
minutes you can suspend it betwixt two trees in the
shape of a roof. Under this, in your hammock,
you may defy the pelting shower, and sleep heedless
SECOND
JOUBNEV.
Instruc¬
tions to
future ad¬
venturers.
104
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOUKNEY.
Snakes.
Tigers.
Insects.
Birds.
Hum¬
ming-
bird.
of the dews of night. A hat, a shirt, and a light
pair of trowsers, will be all the raiment you require.
Custom will soon teach you to tread lightly and
barefoot on the little inequalities of the ground, and
show you how to pass on, unwounded, amid the
mantling briers.
Snakes, in these wilds, are certainly an annoyance,
though perhaps more in imagination than reality ;
for you must recollect that the serpent is never the
first to offend : his poisonous fang was not given
him for conquest : he never inflicts a wound with
it but to defend existence. Provided you walk
cautiously, and do not absolutely touch him, you
may pass in safety close by him. As he is often
coiled up on the ground, and amongst the branches
of the trees above you, a degree of circumspection is
necessary, lest you unwarily disturb him.
Tigers are too few, and too apt to fly before the
noble face of man, to require a moment of your
attention.
The bite of the most noxious of the insects, at the
very worst, only causes a transient fever, with a
degree of pain more or less.
Birds in general, with a few exceptions, are not
common in the very remote parts of the forest. The
sides of rivers, lakes, and creeks, the borders of
savannas, the old abandoned habitations of Indians
and wood-cutters, seem to be their favourite haunts.
Though least in size, the glittering mantle of the
humming-bird entitles it to the first place in the list of
the birds of the new world. It may truly be called
SOUTH AMERICA.
105
tlie bird of paradise ; and had it existed in the old
world, it would have claimed the title instead of the
bird which has now the honour to bear it : — see it
darting through the air almost as quick as thought !
— now it is within a yard of your face ! — in an
instant gone ! — now it flutters from flower to flower
to sip the silver dew — it is now a ruby — now a
topaz — now an emerald — now all burnished gold !
It would be arrogant to pretend to describe this
winged gem of nature after Buflon’s elegant descrip¬
tion of it.
Cayenne and Demerara produce the same hum¬
ming-birds. Perhaps you would wash to know
something of their haunts. Chiefly in the months of
July and August, the tree called Bois Immortel,
very common in Demerara, bears abundance of red
blossom, which stays on the tree for some weeks ;
then it is that most of the different species of hum¬
ming-birds are very plentiful. The wild red sage is
also their favourite shrub, and they buzz like bees
round the blossom of the wallaba tree. Indeed,
there is scarce a flower in the interior, or on the sea-
coast, but what receives frequent visits from one or
other of the species.
On entering the forests, on the rising land in the
interior, the blue and green, the smallest brown, no
bigger than the humble bee, with two long feathers
in the tail, and the little forked-tail purple-throated
humming-birds, glitter before you in ever-changing
attitudes. One species alone never shows his beauty
to the sun ; and were it not for his lovely shining
SECOND
JOURNEY.
Haunts of
the hum¬
ming
birds.
106
WANDERINGS Ilf
SECOND
JOURNEY,
colours, you might almost be tempted to class him
with the goat-suckers, on account of his habits. He
is the largest of all the humming-birds, and is all
red and changing gold green, except the head, which
is black. He has two long feathers in the tail,
which cross each other, and these have gained him
the name of Karabimiti, or Ara humming-bird,
from the Indians. You never find him on the sea-
coast, or where the river is salt, or in the heart of
the forest, unless fresh water be there. He keeps
close by the side of woody fresh-water rivers, and
dark and lonely creeks. He leaves his retreat before
sunrise to feed on the insects over the water ; he
returns to it as soon as the sun’s rays cause a glare
of light, is sedentary all day long, and comes out
again for a short time after sunset. He builds his
nest on a twig over the water in the unfrequented
creeks $ it looks like tanned cow leather.
As you advance towards the mountains of Deme-
rara, other species of humming-birds present them¬
selves before you. It seems to be an erroneous
opinion, that the humming-bird lives entirely on
honey-dew. Almost every flower of the tropical
climates contains insects of one kind or other ; now,
the humming-bird is most busy about the flowers an
hour or two after sunrise, and after a shower of rain,
and it is just at this time that the insects come out
to the edge of the flower in order that the sun’s rays
may dry the nocturnal dew and rain which they have
received. On opening the stomach of the humming¬
bird, dead insects are almost always found there.
SOUTH AMERICA.
107
Next to tlie humming-birds, the cotingas display SECOND
the gayest plumage. They are of the order of The Co ~
passeres, and you number five species betwixt the tingas-
sea-coast and the rock Saba. Perhaps the scarlet
cotino^a is the richest of the five, and is one of those
birds which are found in the deepest recesses of the
forest. His crown is flaming red ; to this abruptly
succeeds a dark shining brown, reaching half way
down the back : the remainder of the back, the
rump, and tail, the extremity of which is edged with
black, are a lively red ; the belly is a somewhat
lighter red ; the breast reddish black ; the wings
brown. He has no song, is solitary, and utters a
monotonous wdnstle which sounds like “ quet.” He
is fond of the seeds of the hitia tree, and those of the
siloahali and bastard siloabali trees, which ripen in
December, and continue on the trees for about two
months. He is found throughout the year in
Demerara ; still nothing is known of his incubation.
The Indians all agree in telling you that they have
never seen his nest.
The purple-breasted cotinga has the throat and The pur-
breast of a deep purple, the wings and tail black, ed cotin-
andall the rest of the body a most lively shining blue. ga'
The purple-throated cotinga has black wings and
tail, and every other part a light and glossy blue,
save the throat, which is purple.
The Pompadour cotinga is entirely purple, except ThePom-
his wings, which are white, their four first feathers cotinga.
tipped with brown. The great coverts of the wings
are stiff, narrow, and pointed, being shaped quite
108
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
Tlie Cam¬
panero.
different from those of any other bird. When you
are betwixt this bird and the sun in his flight, he
appears uncommonly brilliant. He makes a hoarse
noise, which sounds like “ Wallababa.” Hence
his name amongst the Indians.
None of these three cotingas have a song. They
feed on the hitia, siloabali, and bastard siloabali seeds,
the wild guava, the fig, and other fruit trees of the
forest. They are easily shot in these trees during
the months of December, January, and part of
February. The greater part of them disappear after
this, and probably retire far away to breed. Their
nests have never been found in Demerara.
The fifth species is the celebrated Campanero of
the Spaniards, called Dara by the Indians, and
Bell-bird by the English. He is about the size of
the jay. His plumage is white as snow. On his
forehead rises a spiral tube nearly three inches long.
It is jet black, dotted all over with small white
feathers. It has a communication with the palate,
and when filled with air, looks like a spire ; when
empty, it becomes pendulous. His note is loud and
clear, like the sound of a bell, and may be heard at
the distance of three miles. In the midst of these
extensive wilds, generally on the dried top of an
aged mora, almost out of gun reach, you will see the
campanero. No sound or song from any of the
winged inhabitants of the forest, not even the
clearly pronounced “ Whip-poor-will,” from the
goatsucker, causes such astonishment, as the toll of
the campanero.
SOUTH AMERICA.
109
With many of the feathered race, he pays the
common tribute of a morning and an evening song ;
and even when the meridian sun has shut in silence
the mouths of almost the whole of animated nature,
the campanero still cheers the forest. You hear his
toll, and then a pause for a minute, then another
toll, and then a pause again, and then a toll, and
again a pause. Then he is silent for six or eight
minutes, and then another toll, and so on. Acteon
would stop in mid chace, Maria would defer her
evening song, and Orpheus himself would drop his
lute to listen to him, so sweet, so novel, and romantic
is the toll of the pretty snow-white campanero. He
is never seen to feed with the other cotingas, nor is
it known in what part of Guiana he makes his nest.
While the cotingas attract your attention by their
superior plumage, the singular form of the toucan
makes a lasting impression on your memory. There
are three species of toucans in Demerara, and three
diminutives, which may be called toucanets. The
largest of the first species frequents the mangrove
trees on the sea-coast. He is never seen in the in¬
terior till you reach Macoushia, where he is found
in the neighbourhood of the river Tacatou. The
other two species are very common. They feed
entirely on the fruits of the forest, and though of the
pie kind, never kill the young of other birds, or
touch carrion. The larger is called Bouradi by the
Indians, (which means nose,) the other, Scirou.
They seem partial to each other’s company, and often
resort to the same feeding tree, and retire together
SECOND
JOURNEY.
The Tou¬
can.
110
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY
Its flight.
to the same shady noon-day retreat. They are very
noisy in rainy weather at all hours of the day, and
in fair weather, at morn and eve. The sound which
the bouradi makes, is like the clear yelping of a
puppy dog, and you fancy he says “ pia-po-o-co,”
and thus the South American Spaniards call him
Piapoco.
All the toucanets feed on the same trees on which
the toucan feeds, and every species of this family of
enormous bill, lays its eggs in the hollow trees.
They are social, but not gregarious. You may
sometimes see eight or ten in company, and from
this you would suppose they are gregarious; but,
upon a closer examination, you will find it has only
been a dinner party, which breaks up and disperses
towards roosting time.
You will be at a loss to conjecture for what ends
nature has overloaded the head of this bird with such
an enormous bill. It cannot be for the offensive, as
it has no need to wage war with any of the tribes of
animated nature ; for its food is fruits and seeds,
and those are in superabundance throughout the
whole year in the regions where the toucan is found.
It can hardly be for the defensive, as the toucan is
preyed upon by no bird in South America, and were
it obliged to be at war, the texture of the bill is ill
adapted to give or receive blows, as you will see in
dissecting it. It cannot be for any particular pro¬
tection to the tongue, as the tongue is a perfect
feather.
The flight of the toucan is by jerks ; in the action
r
SOUTH AMERICA,
111
of flying it seems incommoded by this huge dispro- second
f - 1 1 T 1 -P , T JOURNEY.
portioned feature, and the head seems as it bowed —
down to the earth by it against its will. If the extra¬
ordinary form and size of the bill expose the toucan
to ridicule, its colours make it amends. Were a colours of
specimen of each species of the toucan presented to
you, you would pronounce the bill of the bouradi
the most rich and beautiful ; on the ridge of the
upper mandible a broad stripe of most lovely yellow
extends from the head to the point ; a stripe of the
same breadth, though somewhat deeper yellow, falls
from it at right angles next the head down to the
edge of the mandible ; then follows a black stripe,
half as broad, falling at right angles from the ridge,
and running narrower along the edge to within half
an inch of the point. The rest of the mandible is
a deep bright red. The lower mandible has no
yellow : its black and red are distributed in the same
manner as on the upper one, with this difference,
that there is black about an inch from the point.
The stripe corresponding to the deep yellow stripe
on the upper mandible is sky blue. It is worthy of
remark that all these brilliant colours of the bill are
to be found in the plumage of the body, and the
bare skin round the eye.
All these colours, except the blue, are inherent in
the horn ; that part which appears blue is in reality
transparent white, and receives its colour from a thin
piece of blue skin inside. This superb Kill fades in
death, and in three or four days’ time, has quite lost
its original colours.
112
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY,
Preserves
a bill of
the Tou¬
can.
Till within these few years, no idea of the true
colours of the bill could be formed from the stuffed
toucans brought to Europe. About eight years ago,
while eating a boiled toucan, the thought struck me
that the colours in the bill of a preserved specimen
might be kept as bright as those in life. A series of
experiments proved this beyond a doubt. If you
take your penknife and cut away the roof of the
upper mandible, you will find that the space betwixt
it and the outer shell contains a large collection of
veins, and small osseous fibres running in all di¬
rections through the whole extent of the bill. Clear
away all these with your knife, and you will come
to a substance more firm than skin, but of not so
strong a texture as the horn itself ; cut this away
also, and behind it is- discovered a thin and tender
membrane ; yellow, where it has touched the yellow
part of the horn ; blue, where it has touched the red
part, and black towards the edge and point ; when
dried, this thin and tender membrane becomes
nearly black ; as soon as it is cut away, nothing
remains but the outer horn, red and yellow, and
now become transparent ; the under mandible must
undergo the same operation. Great care must be
taken, and the knife used very cautiously, when you
are cutting through the different parts close to where
the bill joins on to the head ; if you cut away too
much, the bill drops off ; if you press too hard, the
knife comes through the horn ; if you leave too great
a portion of the membrane, it appears through the
horn, and by becoming black when dried, makes the
SOUTH AMERICA.
113
horn appear black also, and has a bad effect; judg¬
ment, caution, skill, and practice, will ensure success.
You have now cleared the bill of all those bodies
which are the cause of its apparent fading ; for, as
has been said before, these bodies dry in death, and
become quite discoloured, and appear so through
the horn ; and reviewing the bill in this state, you
conclude that its former bright colours are lost.
SECOND
JOURNEY.
Something still remains to be done. You have
rendered the bill transparent by the operation, and
that transparency must be done away to make it
appear perfectly natural. Pound some clean chalk,
and give it enough water till it be of the consistency
of tar ; add a proportion of gum arabic to make it
adhesive ; then take a camel-hair brush, and give
the inside of both mandibles a coat ; apply a second
when the first is dry, then another, and a fourth to
finish all. The gum arabic will prevent the chalk
from cracking and falling off. If you remember,
there is a little space of transparent white in the
lower mandible, which originally appeared blue,
but which became transparent white as soon as the
thin piece of blue skin was cut away ; this must be
painted blue inside. When all this is completed,
the bill will please you ; it will appear in its original
colours. Probably your own abilities will suggest
a cleverer mode of operating than the one here
described. A small gouge would assist the pen¬
knife, and render the operation less difficult.
The Houtou ranks high in beauty amongst the The
birds of Demerara; his whole body is green, with
i
114
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY
Its
haunts.
a bluish cast in the wings and tail ; his crown,
: which he erects at pleasure, consists of black in the
centre, surrounded with lovely blue of two different
shades : he has a triangular black spot, edged with
blue, behind the eye extending to the ear j and on
his breast a sable tuft, consisting of nine feathers
edged also with blue. This bird seems to suppose
that its beauty can be increased by trimming the
tail, which undergoes the same operation as our
hair in a barber’s shop, only with this difference,
that it uses its own beak, which is serrated, in lieu
of a pair of scissars : as soon as his tail is full
grown, he begins about an inch from the extremity
of the two longest feathers in it, and cuts away the
web on both sides of the shaft, making a gap about
an inch long : both male and female Adonise their
tails in this manner, which gives them a remarkable
appearance amongst all other birds. While we
consider the tail of the houtou blemished and de¬
fective, were he to come amongst us, he would
probably consider our heads, cropped and bald, in
no better light. He who wishes to observe this
handsome bird in his native haunts, must be in the
forest at the morning’s dawn. The houtou shuns
the society of man : the plantations and cultivated
parts are too much disturbed to engage it to settle
there ; the thick and gloomy forests are the places
preferred by the solitary houtou. In those far-
extending wilds, about day-break, you hear him
articulate, in a distinct and mournful tone, u houtou,
houtou.” Move cautiously on to where the sound
SOUTH AMERICA.
115
proceeds from, and you will see him sitting in the second
underwood, about a couple of yards from the ground, R-^ -
his tail moving up and down every time he articulates
“ houtou.” He lives on insects and the berries
amongst the underwood, and very rarely is seen in
the lofty trees, except the bastard siloabali-tree, the
fruit of which is grateful to him. He makes no
nest, but rears his young in a hole in the sand,
generally on the side of a hill.
While in quest of the houtou, you will now and
then fall in with the jay of Guiana, called by the The Jay
Indians Ibibirou. Its forehead is black, the rest of ana.
the head white ; the throat and breast like the English
magpie : about an inch of the extremity of the
tail is white, the other part of it, together with the
back and wings, a grayish changing purple ; the
belly is white : there are generally six or eight of
them in company ; they are shy and garrulous, and
tarry a very short time in one place ; they are
never seen in the cultivated parts.
Through the whole extent of the forest, chiefly
from sunrise till nine o’clock in the morning, you
hear a sound of u wow, wow, wow, wow.” This
is the bird called Boclora by the Indians. It is The
smaller than the common pigeon, and seems, in
some measure, to partake of its nature : its head
and breast are blue ; the back and rump somewhat
resemble the colour on the peacock's neck ; its
belly is a bright yellow ; the legs are so very short
that it always appears as if sitting on the branch ;
it is as ill adapted for walking as the swallow ; its
116
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURN F,Y
The Cuia.
neck7 for above an inch all round; is quite bare of
feathers ; but this deficiency is not seen, for it always
sits with its head drawn in upon its shoulders : it
sometimes feeds with the cotingas on the guava and
hitia trees ; but its chief nutriment seems to be
insects, and, like most birds which followr this prey,
its chaps are well armed with bristles : it is found
in Demerara at all times of the year, and makes a
nest resembling that of the stock dove. This bird
never takes long flights, and when it crosses a
river or creek it goes by long jerks.
The boclora is very unsuspicious, appearing quite
heedless of danger : the report of a gun within
twentv yards will not cause it to leave the branch on
which it is sitting, and you may often approach it so
near as almost to touch it with the end of your bow.
Perhaps there is no bird known whose feathers are
so slightly fixed to the skin as those of the boclora.
After shooting it, if it touch a branch in its descent,
or if it drop on hard ground, whole heaps of feathers
fall off: on this account it is extremely hard to pro¬
cure a specimen for preservation. As soon as the
skin is dry in the preserved' specimen, the feathers
become as well fixed as those in any other bird.
Another species, larger than the boclora, attracts
much of your notice in these wilds ; it is called Cuia
by the Indians, from the sound of its voice; its
habits are the same as those of the boclora, but its
colours different ; its head, breast, back, and rump,
are a shining, changing green ; its tail not quite so
bright ; a black bar runs across the tail towards the
SOUTH AMERICA.
117
extremity, and the outside feathers are partly white second
as in the boclora ; its belly is entirely vermilion, a -
bar of white separating it from the green on the breast.
There are diminutives of both these birds ; thev
have the same habits, with a somewhat different
plumage, and about half the size. Arrayed from
head to tail in a robe of richest sable hue, the bird
called Rice-bird loves spots cultivated by the hand ^R!ce'
of man. The woodcutter’s house on the hills in the
interior, and the planter’s habitation on the sea-
coast, equally attract this songless species of the
order of pie, provided the Indian corn be ripe there.
He is nearly of the jackdaw’s size, and makes his
nest far away from the haunts of men ; he may truly
be called a blackbird : independent of his plumage,
his beak, inside and out, his legs, his toes, and claws
are jet black.
Mankind, by clearing the ground, and sowing a
variety of seeds, induces many kinds of birds to
leave their native haunts, and come and settle near
him : their little depredations on his seeds and fruits,
prove that it is the property, and not the proprietor,
which has the attractions.
One bird, however, in Demerara is not actuated The cas-
by selfish motives : this is the Cassique ; in size, 1
he is larger than the starling ; he courts the society
of man, but disdains to live by his labours. When
nature calls for support, he repairs to the neigh¬
bouring forest, and there partakes of the store of
fruits and seeds which she has produced in abundance
for her aerial tribes. When his repast is over, he
118
SECOND
JOURNEY.
I
WANDERINGS IN
returns to man, and pays the little tribute which he
owes him for his protection ; he takes his station on
a tree close to his house ; and there, for hours
together, pours forth a succession of imitative notes.
His own song is sweet, but very short. If a toucan
be yelping in the neighbourhood, he drops it, and
imitates him. Then he will amuse his protector
with the cries of the different species of the wood¬
pecker ; and when the sheep bleat, he will distinctly
answer them. Then comes his own song again;
and if a puppy dog, or a Guinea fowl interrupt him,
he takes them off* admirably, and by his different
gestures during the time, you would conclude that
he enjoys the sport.
The cassique is gregarious, and imitates any sound
he hears with such exactness, that he goes by no
other name than that of Mocking-bird amongst the
colonists.
At breeding time, a number of these pretty chor¬
isters resort to a tree near the planter’s house, and
from its outside branches weave their pendulous
nests. So conscious do they seem that they never
give offence, and so little suspicious are they of
receiving any injury from man, that they will choose
a tree within forty yards from his house, and occupy
the branches so low down, that he may peep into
the nests. A tree in Waratilla creek affords a proof
of this.
The proportions of the cassique are so fine, that
he may be said to be a model of symmetry in orni¬
thology. On each wing he has a bright yellow spot,
SOUTH AMERICA.
119
and his rump, belly, and half the tail, are of the second
same colour. All the rest of the body is black. J0UR
His beak is the colour of sulphur, but it fades in
death, and requires the same operation as the bill of
the toucan to make it keep its colours. Up the
rivers, in the interior, there is another cassique,
nearly the same size, and of the same habits, though
not gifted with its powers of imitation. Except in
breeding time, you will see hundreds of them retiring
to roost, amongst the moca-moca-trees and low shrubs
on the banks of the Demerara, after you pass the first
island. They are not common on the sea-coast.
The rump of the cassique is a flaming scarlet. All
the rest of the body is a rich glossy black. His
bill is sulphur colour. You may often see numbers
of this species weaving their pendulous nests on one
side of a tree, while numbers of the other sj)ecies are
busy in forming theirs on the opposite side of the
same tree. Though such near neighbours, the
females are never observed to kick up a row, or
come to blows !
Another species of cassique, as large as a crow, is Another
very common in the plantations. In the morning, theCCas-0
he generally repairs to a large tree, and there, with sique‘
his tail spread over his back, and shaking his lowered
wings, he produces notes, which though they cannot
be said to amount to a song, still have something
very sweet and pleasing in them. He makes his
nest in the same form as the other cassiques. It is
above four feet long ; and when you pass under the
tree, which often contains fifty or sixty of them, you
120
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
Wood¬
peckers.
cannot help stopping to admire them as they wave
to and fro, the sport of every storm and breeze.
The rump is chestnut ; ten feathers of the tail are
a fine yellow, the remaining two, which are the
middle ones, are black, and an inch shorter than the
others. His bill is sulphur colour; all the rest of
the body black, with here and there shades of brown.
He has five or six long narrow black feathers on the
back of his head, which he erects at pleasure.
There is one more species of cassique in Deme-
rara, which always prefers the forests to the culti¬
vated parts. His economy is the same as that of
the other cassiques. He is rather smaller than the
last described bird. His body is greenish, and his
tail and rump paler than those of the former. Half
of his beak is red.
You would not be long in the forests of Demerara,
without noticing the woodpeckers. You meet with
them feeding at all hours of the day. Well may
they do so. Were they to follow the example of
most of the other birds, and only feed in the morning
and evening, they would be often on short allowance,
for they sometimes have to labour three or four hours
at the tree before they get to their food. The sound
which the largest kind makes in hammering against
the bark of the tree, is so loud, that you would never
suppose it to proceed from the efforts of a bird. You
would take it to be the woodman, with his axe, trying
by a sturdy blow, often repeated, whether the tree
were sound or not. There are fourteen species here ;
the largest the size of a magpie, the smallest no
v
SOUTH AMERICA.
121
bigger than the wren. They are all beautiful ; and second
the greater part of them have their heads ornamented J' T R
with a fine crest, movable at pleasure.
It is said, if you once give a dog a bad name,
whether innocent or guilty, he never loses it. It
sticks close to him wherever he goes. He has many
a kick and many a blow to bear on account of it ;
and there is nobody to stand up for him. The
woodpecker is little better off. The proprietors of
woods, in Europe, have long accused him of injuring
their timber, by boring holes in it, and letting in the
water, which soon rots it. The colonists in America
have the same complaint against him. Had he the
powrer of speech, which Ovid’s birds possessed in
days of yore, he could soon make a defence.
“ Mighty lord of the woods,” he would say to man,
u why do you wrongfully accuse me ? why do you
hunt me up and down to death for an imaginary
offence ? I have never spoiled a leaf of your pro¬
perty, much less your wood. Your merciless shot
strikes me, at the very time I am doing you a service.
But your shortsightedness will not let you see it, or
your pride is above examining closely the actions of
so insignificant a little bird as I am. If there be
that spark of feeling in your breast, which they say
man possesses, or ought to possess, above all other
animals, do a poor injured creature a little kindness,
and wTatch me in your wrnods only for one day. I
never wound your healthy trees. I should perish
for want in the attempt. The sound bark would
easily resist the force of my bill : and were I even
122
WANDERINGS IN
second to pierce through it, there would be nothing inside
■tourney, j coulci fancy, or my stomach digest. I often
visit them, it is true, but a knock or two convince
me that I must go elsewhere for support ; and were
you to listen attentively to the sound which my bill
causes, you would know whether I am upon a
healthy, or an unhealthy tree. Wood and bark are
not my food. I live entirely upon the insects which
have already formed a lodgement in the distempered
tree. When the sound informs me that my prey is
there, I labour for hours together till I get at it;
and by consuming it, for my own support, I pre¬
vent its further depredations in that part. Thus I
discover for you your hidden and unsuspected foe,
which has been devouring your wood in such secrecy,
that you had not the least suspicion it was there.
The hole which I make in order to get at the per¬
nicious vermin, will be seen by you as you pass
under the tree. I leave it as a signal to tell you,
that your tree has already stood too long. It is past
its prime. Millions of insects, engendered by disease,
are preying upon its vitals. Ere long it will fall a
log in useless ruins. Warned by this loss, cut down
the rest in time, and spare, O spare the unoffending
woodpecker.”
The In the rivers, and different creeks, you number six
Kin gt-
fisher. species of the King- fisher. They make their nest in
a hole in the sand on the side of the bank. As there
is always plenty of foliage to protect them from the
heat of the sun, they feed at all hours of the day.
Though their plumage is prettily varied, still it falls
SOUTH AMERICA.
123
far short of the brilliancy displayed by the English
king-fisher. This little native of Britain would out¬
weigh them altogether in the scale of beauty.
A bird called Jacamar is often taken for a kin^-
fisher, but it has no relationship to that tribe; it
frequently sits in the trees over the water, and as its
beak bears some resemblance to that of the king¬
fisher, this may probably account for its being taken
for one ; it feeds entirely upon insects ; it sits on a
branch in motionless expectation, and as soon as a
fly, butterfly, or moth passes by, it darts at it, and
returns to the branch it had just left. It seems an
indolent, sedentary bird, shunning the society of all
others in the forest. It never visits the plantations,
but is found at all times of the year in the woods.
«/
There are four species of jacamar in Demerara ;
they are all beautiful ; the largest, rich and superb in
the extreme. Its plumage is of so fine a changing
blue and golden green, that it may be ranked with
the choicest of the humming-birds. Nature has
denied it a song, but given a costly garment in lieu
of it. The smallest species of jacamar is very
common in the dry savannas. The second size, all
golden green on the back, must be looked for in the
wallaba forest. The third is found throughout the
whole extent of these wilds ; and the fourth, which
is the largest, frequents the interior, where you begin
to perceive stones in the ground.
When you have penetrated far into Macoushia,
you hear the pretty songster, called Troupiale, pour
forth a variety of sweet and plaintive notes. This
SECOND
JOURNEY^
The
Jacamar.
TheTrou-
piale.
124
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
Second
species of
Tioupiale.
Third
species of
Troupiale.
Fourth
species of
Troupiale.
is the bird which the Portuguese call the nightingale
of Guiana; its predominant colours are rich orange,
and shining black, arrayed to great advantage ; his
delicate and well-shaped frame seems unable to
bear captivity. The Indians sometimes bring down
troupiales to Stabroek, but in a few months they
languish and die in a cage. They soon become
very familiar ; and if you allow them the liberty of
the house, they live longer than in a cage, and
appear in better spirits ; but, when you least expect
it, they drop down and die in epilepsy.
Smaller in size, and of colour not so rich, and
somewhat differently arranged, another species of
troupiale sings melodiously in Demerara. The
woodcutter is particularly favoured by him ; for
while the hen is sitting on her nest, built in the
roof of the woodcutter’s house, he sings for hours
together close by : he prefers the forests to the
cultivated parts.
You would not grudge to stop for a few minutes,
as you are walking in the plantations, to observe
a third species of troupiale : his wings, tail, and
throat are black, all the rest of the body is a
bright yellow. There is something very sweet and
plaintive in his song, though much shorter than
that of the troupiale in the interior.
A fourth species goes in flocks from place to
place in the cultivated parts at the time the Indian
corn is ripe; he is all black, except the head and
throat, which are yellow; his attempt at song is
not worth attending to.
SOUTH AMERICA.
125
"Wherever there is a wild fig-tree ripe, a numerous second
species of birds, called Tangara, is sure to be on it. — u'tyE**
There are eighteen beautiful species here. Their species,
plumage is very rich and diversified ; some of them
boast six separate colours ; others have the blue,
purple, green, and black so kindly blended into
each other, that it would be impossible to mark
their boundaries ; while others again exhibit them
strong, distinct, and abrupt : many of these tangaras
have a fine song. They seem to partake much of the
nature of our linnets, sparrows, and finches. Some
of them are fond of the plantations ; others are never
seen there, preferring the wild seeds of the forest to
the choicest fruits planted by the hand of man.
On the same fig-trees to which they repair, and Manikin
often accidentally up and down the forest, you fall species'
in wdtli four species of Manikin. The largest is
white and black, with the feathers on the throat
remarkably long : the next in size is half red and
half black : the third, black, with a white crown :
the fourth, black, with a golden crown, and red
feathers at the knee. The half red and half black
species is the scarcest. There is a creek in the
Demerara called Camouni. About ten minutes
from the mouth, you see a common-sized fig-tree
on your right hand, as you ascend, hanging over
water; it bears a very small fig twice a year.
When its fruit is ripe, this manikin is on the tree
from morn till eve.
On all the ripe fig-trees in the forest you see the Thesmaii
bird called the small Tiger-bird. Like some of our Tlgei'bud
126
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY
The Ya-
varaciri.
belles and dandies, it lias a gaudy vest to veil an ill-
shaped body : the throat, and part of the head, are
a bright red ; the breast and belly have black spots
on a yellow ground ; the wings are a dark green,
black, and white ; and the rump and tail black
and green. Like the manikin, it has no song : it
depends solely upon a showy garment for admiration.
Devoid, too, of song, and in a still superber
garb, the Yawaraciri comes to feed on the same
tree. It has a bar like black velvet from the eyes
to the beak ; its legs are yellow ; its throat, wings,
and tail black ; all the rest of the body a charming
blue. Chiefly in the dry savannas, and here and
there accidentally in the forest, you see a songless
yawaraciri still lovelier than the last : his crown is
whitish blue, arrayed like a coat of mail; his tail
is black, his wings black and yellow ; legs red ;
and the whole body a glossy blue. Whilst roving
through the forest, ever and anon you see individuals
of the wren species, busy amongst the fallen leaves,
or seeking insects at the roots of the trees.
Here, too, you find six or seven species of small
birds, whose backs appear to be overloaded with
silky plumage. One of these, with a chestnut
breast, smoke-coloured back, tail red, white feathers
like horns on his head, and white narrow-pointed
feathers under the jaw, feeds entirely upon ants.
When a nest of large light brown ants emigrates,
one following the other in meandering lines above a
mile long, you see this bird watching them, and
every now and then picking them up. When they
SOUTH AMERICA.
127
disappear lie is seen no more : perhaps this is the second
only kind of ant he is fond of : when these ants -
are stirring, you are sure to find him near them.
You cannot well mistake the ant after you have
once been in its company, for its sting is very Ants,
severe, and you can hardly shoot the bird, and
pick it up, without having five or six upon you.
Parrots and Paroquets are very numerous here, Parrots
an p a ^
and of many different kinds. You will know when roquets,
they are near you in the forest, not only by the
noise they make, but also by the fruits and seeds
which they let fall while they are feeding.
The Hia-hia parrot, called in England the parrot The
of the sun, is very remarkable : he can erect at
pleasure a fine radiated circle of tartan feathers
quite round the back of his head from jaw to jaw.
The fore part of his head is white ; his back, tail,
and wings, green ; and his breast and belly tartan.
Superior in size and beauty to every parrot of The Ara.
South America, the Ara will force you to take your
eyes from the rest of animated nature, and gaze at
him : his commanding strength, the flaming scarlet
of his body, the lovely variety of red, yellow, blue,
and green in his wings, the extraordinary length of
his scarlet and blue tail, seem all to join and demand
for him the title of emperor of all the parrots. He
is scarce in Demerara till you reach the confines of
the Macoushi country ; there he is in vast abundance ;
he mostly feeds on trees of the palm species. When
the coucourite trees have ripe fruit on them, they
are covered with this magnificent parrot : he is not
128
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY
The
Bittern.
The
snow-
white
Egrette.
shy or wary ; you may take your blow-pipe and
quiver of poisoned arrows, and kill more than you
are able to carry back to your hut. They are very
vociferous, and, like the common parrots, rise up in
bodies towards sunset, and fly two and two to their
place of rest. It is a grand sight in ornithology to
see thousands of aras flying over your head, low
enough to let you have a full view of their flaming
mantle. The Indians find their flesh very good,
and the feathers serve for ornaments in their head¬
dresses. They breed in the holes of trees, are
easily reared and tamed, and learn to speak pretty
distinctly.
Another species frequents the low lands of
Demerara. He is nearly the size of the scarlet
ara, but much inferior in plumage. Blue and
yellow are his predominant colours.
Along the creeks and river sides, and in the wet
savannas, six species of the Bittern will engage
your attention. They are all handsome. The
smallest not so large as the English water-hen.
In the savannas, too, you will sometimes surprise
the snow-white Egrette, whose back is adorned with
the plumes from which it takes its name. Here
too the spur-winged water-hen, the blue and green
wrater-hen, and two other species of ordinary
plumage, are found. While in quest of these, the
blue heron, the large and small brown heron, the
boatbill, and Muscovy duck, now and then rise up
before you.
When the sun has sunk in the western woods, no
SOUTH AMERICA.
129
longer agitated by the breeze ; when you can only
see a straggler or two of the feathered tribe hastening
to join its mate, already at its roosting place, then
it is that the goatsucker comes out of the forest,
where it has sat all day long in slumbering ease,
unmindful of the gay and busy scenes around it.
Its eyes are too delicately formed to bear the light,
and thus it is forced to shun the flaming face of
day, and wait in patience till night invites him to
partake of the pleasures her dusky presence brings.
The harmless, unoffending goatsucker, from the
time of Aristotle down to the present day, has been
in disgrace with man. Father has handed down to
son, and author to author, that this nocturnal thief
subsists by milking the flocks. Poor injured little
bird of night, how sadly hast thou suffered, and
how foul a stain has inattention to facts put upon
thy character ! Thou hast never robbed man of any
part of his property, nor deprived the kid of a drop
of milk.
When the moon shines bright, you may have a
fair opportunity of examining the goatsucker. You
will see it close by the cows, goats, and sheep, jump¬
ing up every now and then, under their bellies.
Approach a little nearer, — he is not shy, “ he fears
no danger, for he knows no sin.” See how the
nocturnal flies are tormenting the herd, and with
what dexterity he springs up and catches them, as
fast as they alight on the belly, legs, and udder of
the animals. Observe how quiet they stand, and
how sensible they seem of his good offices, for they
K
SECOND
JOTTHNEY.
Tlie Goat¬
sucker.
130
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY
Its
plumage.
neither strike at him, nor hit him with their tail, nor
tread on him, nor try to drive him away as an uncivil
intruder. Were you to dissect him, and inspect his
stomach, you would find no milk there. It is full
of the flies which have been annoying the herd.
The prettily mottled plumage of the goatsucker,
like that of the owl, wants the lustre which is ob¬
served in the feathers of the birds of day. This, at
once, marks him as a lover of the pale moon’s nightly
beams. There are nine species here. The largest
appears nearly the size of the English wood owl.
Its cry is so remarkable, that having once heard it
you will never forget it. When night reigns over
these immeasurable wilds, whilst lying in your ham¬
mock, you will hear this goatsucker lamenting like one
in deep distress. A stranger would never conceive it
to be the cry of a bird. He would say it was the
departing voice of a midnight murdered victim, or
the last wailing of Niobe for her poor children, before
she was turned into stone. Suppose yourself in
hopeless sorrow, begin with a high loud note, arid
pronounce, “ ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” each note
lower and lower, till the last is scarcely heard,
pausing a moment or two betwixt every note, and
you will have some idea of the moaning of the
largest goatsucker in Demerara.
Four other species of the goatsucker articulate
some words so distinctly, that they have received their
names from the sentences they utter, and absolutely
bewilder the stranger on his arrival in these parts.
The most common one sits down close by your door,
SOUTH AMERICA.
131
and flies and alights three or four yards before you, second
as you walk along the road, crying, u Who-are-you, -
who-who-who-are-you,” Another bids you, “ W ork-
away, work- work -work -away/’ A third cries,
mournfully, u Willy-come-go. Willy- Willy- Willy-
come-go.” And high up in the country, a fourth
tells you to “ Whip-poor-Will. Whip-whip-whip-
poor- Will.”
You will never persuade the negro to destroy these
birds, or get the Indian to let fly his arrow at them.
They are birds of omen, and reverential dread.
Jumbo, the demon of Africa, has them under his
command ; and they equally obey the Yabahou, or
Demerara Indian devil. They are the receptacles
for departed souls, who come back again to earth,
unable to rest for crimes done in their days of nature ;
or they are expressly sent by J umbo, or Yabahou,
to haunt cruel and hard-hearted masters, and retaliate
injuries received from them. If the largest goat¬
sucker chance to cry near the white man’s door,
sorrow and grief will soon be inside ; and they ex¬
pect to see the master waste away with a slow con¬
suming sickness. If it be heard close to the negro’s
or Indian’s hut, from that night misfortune sits
brooding over it ; and they await the event in terrible
suspense.
You will forgive the poor Indian of Guiana for this.
He knows no better; he has nobody to teach him.
But shame it is, that in our own civilized country,
the black cat and broomstaff should be considered as
conductors to and from the regions of departed spirits.
K 2
132
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURN F.Y.
Anecdote.
Many years ago I knew poor harmless Mary ;
old age had marked her strongly, just as he will
mark you and me, should we arrive at her years and
carry the weight of grief which bent her double.
The old men of the village said she had been very
pretty in her youth ; and nothing could be seen
more comely than Mary when she danced on the
green. He who had gained her heart, left her for
another, less fair, though richer than Mary. From
that time she became sad and pensive ; the rose left
her cheek, and she was never more seen to dance
round the May-pole on the green : her expectations
were blighted ; she became quite indifferent to every
thing around her, and seemed to think of nothing
but how she could best attend her mother, who was
lame, and not long for this life. Her mother had
begged a black kitten from some boys who were
going to drown it, and in her last illness she told
Mary to be kind to it for her sake.
When age and want had destroyed the symmetry
of Mary’s fine form, the village began to consider
her as one who had dealings with spirits ; her cat
confirmed the suspicion. If a cow died, or a villager
wasted away with an unknown complaint, Mary and
her cat had it to answer for. Her broom sometimes
served her for a walking-stick : and if ever she sup¬
ported her tottering frame with it as far as the May-
pole, where once, in youthful bloom and beauty, she
had attracted the eyes of all, the boys would surround
her, and make sport of her, while her cat had neither
friend nor safety beyond the cottage wall. Nobody
SOUTH AMERICA.
133
considered it cruel or uncharitable to torment a second
witch ; and it is probable, long before this, that - - — :
cruelty, old age, and want, have worn her out, and
that both poor Mary and her cat have ceased to be.
Would you wish to pursue the different species of
game, well stored and boundless is your range in
Demerara. Here no one dogs you, and afterwards
clandestinely inquires if you have a hundred a year
in land to entitle you to enjoy such patrician sport.
Here no saucy intruder asks if you have taken out a
license, by virtue of which you are allowed to kill the
birds which have bred upon your own property.
Here
“ You are as free as when God first made man,
Ere the vile laws of servitude began,
And wild in woods the noble savage ran.”
Before the morning’s dawn you hear a noise in
the forest, which sounds like u duraquaura” often
repeated. This is the partridge, a little smaller, and The Par-
differing somewhat in colour from the English
partridge : it lives entirely in the forest, and pro¬
bably the young brood very soon leave their parents,
as you never flush more than two birds in the same
place, and in general only one.
About the same hour, and sometimes even at Two spe-
. ciesofthe
midnight, you hear two species of Maam, or 1 ilia- Maam or
mou, send forth their long and plaintive whistle from
the depth of the forest. The flesh of both is delicious.
The largest is plumper, and almost equals in size the
black cock of Northumberland. The quail is said
to be here, though rare.
134
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
The Han-
naquoi.
The Po-
wise or
IIocco.
Flocks of
Waraca-
bas or
Trum¬
peters.
The Hannaquoi, which some have compared to
the pheasant, though with little reason, is very
common.
Here are also two species of the Powise, or Hocco,
and two of the small wild turkeys called Maroudi ;
they feed on the ripe fruits of the forest, and are
found in all directions in these extensive wilds. You
will admire the horned screamer as a stately and
majestic bird : he is almost the size of the turkey
cock ; on his head is a long slender horn, and each
wing is armed with a strong, sharp, triangular spur,
an inch long.
Sometimes you will fall in with flocks of two or
three hundred Waracabas, or Trumpeters, called so
from the singular noise they produce. Their breast
is adorned with beautiful changing blue and purple
feathers ; their head and neck like velvet ; their
wings and back grey, and belly black. They run
with great swiftness, and when domesticated, attend
their master in his walks, with as much apparent
affection as his dog. They have no spurs, but still, such
is their high spirit and activity, that they brow-beat
every dunghill fowl in the yard, and force the Guinea
birds, dogs, and turkeys to own their superiority.
If, kind and gentle reader, thou shouldst ever visit
these regions with an intention to examine their pro¬
ductions, perhaps the few observations contained in
these wanderings may be of service to thee ; excuse
their brevity : more could have been written, and each
bird more particularly described, but it would have
been pressing too hard upon thy time and patience.
SOUTH AMERICA.
135
Soon after arriving in these parts, thou wilt find
that the species here enumerated are only as a hand¬
ful from a well-stored granary. Nothing has been
said of the eagles, the falcons, the hawks, and
shrikes ; nothing of the different species of vultures,
the king of which is very handsome, and seems to be
the only bird which claims regal honours from a sur¬
rounding tribe. It is a fact beyond all dispute, that
when the scent of carrion has drawn together hun¬
dreds of the common vultures, they all retire from
the carcass as soon as the kins; of the vultures makes
his appearance. When his majesty has satisfied
the cravings of his royal stomach with the choicest
bits from the most stinking and corrupted parts, he
generally retires to a neighbouring tree, and then
the common vultures return in crowds to gobble
down his leavings. The Indians, as well as the
Whites, have observed this ; for when one of them,
who has learned a little English, sees the king, and
wishes you to have a proper notion of the bird, he
says, u There is the governor of the carrion crows. ”
Now, the Indians have never heard of a personage
in Demerara higher than that of governor ; and the
colonists, through a common mistake, call the vul¬
tures carrion crows. Hence the Indian, in order to
express the dominion of this bird over the common
vultures, tells you he is governor of the carrion
crows. The Spaniards have also observed it, for,
through all the Spanish Main, he is called Rey de
Zamuros, king of the vultures. The many species
of owls, too, have not been noticed ; and no mention
SECOND
JOURNEY.
136
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY,
made of the columbine tribe. The prodigious variety
of water fowl, on the sea-shore, has been but barely
hinted at.
There, and on the borders and surface of the inland
waters, in the marshes and creeks, besides the fla¬
mingos, scarlet curlew, and spoonbills, already
mentioned, will be found ; greenish-brown curlews,
sandpipers, rails, coots, gulls, pelicans, jabirus, nan-
dapoas, crabiers, snipes, plovers, ducks, geese, cranes,
and anhingas ; most of them in vast abundance ;
some frequenting only the sea-coast, others only the
interior, according to their different natures ; all
worthy the attention of the naturalist, all worthy of a
place in the cabinet of the curious.
Should thy comprehensive genius not confine itself
to birds alone, grand is the appearance of other
objects all around. Thou art in a land rich in
botany and mineralogy, rich in zoology and entomo¬
logy. Animation will glow in thy looks, and exer¬
cise will brace thy frame in vigour. The very time
of thy absence from the tables of heterogeneous
luxury will be profitable to thy stomach, perhaps
already sorely drenched with Londo-Parisian sauces,
and a new stock of health will bring thee an appe¬
tite to relish the wholesome food of the chase.
♦
Never-failing sleep will wait on thee at the time she
comes to soothe the rest of animated nature ; and,
ere the sun’s rays appear in the horizon, thou wilt
spring from thy hammock fresh as April lark. Be
convinced also, that the dangers and difficulties which
are generally supposed to accompany the traveller in
SOUTH AMERICA.
137
Ins lourney through distant regions, are not half so second
J „ , JOURNEY
numerous or dreadtul as they are commonly thought
to be.
The youth who incautiously reels into the lobby Dangers
of Drury-lane, after leaving the table sacred to the prehend-
god of wine, is exposed to more certain ruin, sick- real but
ness, and decay, than he who wanders a whole year nary.1
in the wilds of Demerara. But this will never be
believed ; because the disasters arising from dissipa¬
tion are so common and frequent in civilized life,
that man becomes quite habituated to them ; and
sees daily victims sink into the tomb long before their
time, without ever once taking alarm at the causes
which precipitated them headlong into it.
But the dangers which a traveller exposes himself
to in foreign par$s are novel, out-of-the-way things
to a man at home. The remotest apprehension of
meeting a tremendous tiger, of being carried off by
a flying dragon, or having his bones picked by a
famished cannibal; oh, that makes him shudder.
It sounds in his ears like the bursting of a bomb¬
shell. Thank heaven, he is safe by his own fire-side.
Prudence and resolution ought to be the traveller’s
constant companions. The first will cause him to
avoid a number of snares which he will find in the
path as he journeys on ; and the second will always
lend a hand to assist him, if he has unavoidably got
entangled in them. The little distinctions which
have been shown him at his own home, ought to be
forgotten when he travels over the world at large ;
for strangers know nothing of his former merits, and
138
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY,
it is necessary that they should witness them before
they pay him the tribute which he was wont to re¬
ceive within his own doors. Thus, to be kind and
affable to those we meet, to mix in their amusements,
to pay a compliment or two to their manners and
customs, to respect their elders, to give a little to
their distressed and needy, and to feel, as it were, at
home amongst them, is the sure way to enable you
to pass merrily on, and to find other comforts as
sweet and palatable as those which you were accus¬
tomed to partake of amongst your friends and ac¬
quaintance in your own native land. We will now
ascend in fancy on Icarian wing, and take a view of
Guiana in general. See an immense plain ! betwixt
two of the largest rivers in the world, level, as a
bowling-green, save at Cayenne, and covered with
trees along the coast quite to the Atlantic wave,
except where the plantations make a little vacancy
amongst the foliage.
Though nearly in the centre of the torrid zone,
the sun’s rays are not so intolerable as might be
imagined, on account of the perpetual verdure and
refreshing north-east breeze. See what numbers of
broad and rapid rivers intersect it in their journey to
the ocean, and that not a stone or a pebble is to be
found on their banks, or in any part of the country,
till your eye catches the hills in the interior. How
beautiful and magnificent are the lakes in the heart
of the forests, and how charming the forests them¬
selves, for miles after miles on each side of the
rivers ! How extensive appear the savannas or
SOUTH AMERICA.
139
natural meadows, teeming with innumerable herds
of cattle where the Portuguese and Spaniards are
settled, but desert as Saara, where the English and
Dutch claim dominion ! How gradually the face
of the country rises ! See the sand-hills all clothed
in wood first emerging from the level, then hills a
little higher, rugged with bold and craggy rocks,
peeping out from amongst the most luxuriant timber.
Then come plains, and dells, and far-extending val¬
leys, arrayed in richest foliage ; and beyond them,
mountains piled on mountains, some bearing pro¬
digious forests, others of bleak and barren aspect.
Thus your eye wanders on, over scenes of varied
loveliness and grandeur, till it rests on the stupendous
pinnacles of the long-continued Cordilleras de los
Andes, which rise in towering majesty, and command
all America.
How fertile must the low-lands be, from the ac¬
cumulation of fallen leaves and trees for centuries !
How propitious the swamps and slimy beds of the
rivers, heated by a downward sun, to the amazing
growth of alligators, serpents, and innumerable in¬
sects ! How inviting the forests to the feathered
tribes, where you see buds, blossoms, green and ripe
fruit, full grown and fading leaves, all on the same
tree ! How secure the wild beasts may rove in
endless mazes ! Perhaps those mountains too, which
appear so bleak and naked, as if quite neglected, are,
like Potosi, full of precious metals.
Let us now return the pinions we borrowed from
Icarus, and prepare to bid farewell to the wilds.
SECOND
JOURNEY.
Conclu¬
sion.
140
WANDERINGS IN
SECOND
JOURNEY.
The time allotted to these wanderings is drawing
fast to a close. Every day for the last six months
has been employed in paying close attention to
natural history in the forests of Demerara. Above
two hundred specimens of the finest birds have been
collected, and a pretty just knowledge formed of
their haunts and economy. From the time of leaving
England, in March, 1816, to the present day, nothing
has intervened to arrest a fine flow of health, having
a quartan ague, which did not tarry, but fled as
suddenly as it appeared.
And now I take leave of thee, kind and gentle
reader. The new mode of preserving birds, here¬
tofore promised thee, shall not be forgotten. The
plan is already formed in imagination, and can be
penned down during the passage across the Atlantic.
If the few remarks in these wanderings shall have
any weight in inciting thee to sally forth, and explore
the vast and well-stored regions of Demerara, I
have gained my end. Adieu.
Charles Waterton.
April 6, 1817.
SOUTH AMERICA.
141
THIRD JOURNEY.
“ Desertosque videre locos, littusque relictum.”
Gentle reader, after staying a few months in
England, I strayed across the Alps and the Apen¬
nines, and returned home, but could not tarry.
Guiana still whispered in my ear, and seemed to
invite me once more to wander through her distant
forests.
Shouldst thou have a leisure hour to read what
follows, I pray thee pardon the frequent use of that
unwelcome monosyllable I. It could not well be
avoided, as will be seen in the sequel. In February,
1820, I sailed from the Clyde, on board the Glen-
bervie, a fine West-Indiaman. She was driven to
the north-west of Ireland, and had to contend with
a foul and wintry wind for above a fortnight. At
last it changed, and we had a pleasant passage across
the Atlantic.
Sad and mournful was the story we heard on
entering the river Demerara. The yellow fever had
sw^ept off numbers of the old inhabitants, and the
mortal remains of many a new comer were daily
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Yellow-
fever at
Deme¬
rara.
142
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY,
Resi¬
dence at
Mibiri
creek.
Con¬
verted
into the
author’s
dwelling,
passing down the streets, in slow and mute procession
to their last resting-place.
After staying a few days in the town, I went up
the Demerara to the former habitation of my worthy
friend, Mr. Edmonstone, in Mibiri creek.
The house had been abandoned for some years.
On arriving at the hill, the remembrance of scenes
long past and gone, naturally broke in upon the
mind. All was changed ; the house was in ruins,
and gradually sinking under the influence of the sun
and rain ; the roof had nearly fallen in ; and the
room, where once governors and generals had ca¬
roused, was now dismantled, and tenanted by the
vampire. You would have said,
“ ’Tis now the vampire’s bleak abode,
’Tis now the apartment of the toad ;
’Tis here the painful Chegoe feeds,
’Tis here the dire Labarri breeds,
Conceal’d in ruins, moss, and weeds.”
On the outside of the house, nature had nearly
re-assumed her ancient right : a few straggling fruit-
trees were still discernible amid the varied hue of the
near approaching forest ; they seemed like strangers
lost, and bewildered, and unpitied, in a foreign land,
destined to linger a little longer, and then sink down
for ever.
I hired some negroes from a woodcutter in another
creek to repair the roof ; and then the house, or at
least what remained of it, became head-quarters for
natural history. The frogs, and here and there a
snake, received that attention which the weak in this
world generally experience from the strong, and
SOUTH AMERICA.
143
which the law commonly denominates an ejectment, third
But here, neither the frogs nor serpents were ill- -
treated ; they sallied forth, without buffet or rebuke,
to choose their place of residence ; the world was
all before them. The owls went away of their own
accord, preferring to retire to a hollow tree rather
than to associate with their new landlord. The bats
and vampires staid with me, and went in and out as
usual.
It was upon this hill in former days that I first
tried to teach John, the black slave of my friend
Mr. Edmonstone, the proper way to do birds. But
John had poor abilities, and it required much time
and patience to drive any thing into him. Some
years after this his master took him to Scotland,
where, becoming free, John left him, and got em¬
ployed in the Glasgow, and then the Edinburgh
museum. Mr. Robert Edmonstone, nephew to the
above gentleman, had a fine mulatto, capable of
learning any thing. He requested me to teach him
the art. I did so. He was docile and active, and
was with me all the time in the forest ; I left him
there to keep up this new art of preserving birds,
and to communicate it to others. Here then I fixed
my head quarters, in the ruins of this once gay and
hospitable house. Close by, in a little hut, which,
in times long past, had served for a store to keep
provisions in, there lived a coloured man and his
wife, by name Backer. Many a kind turn they did
to me ; and I was more than once a service to them
and their children, by bringing to their relief in time
144
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNKY
Raiment
and diet-
of sickness, what little knowledge I had acquired of
' medicine.
I would here, gentle reader, wish to draw thy
attention, for a few minutes, to physic, raiment, and
diet. Shouldst thou ever wander through these re¬
mote and dreary wilds, forget not to carry with thee
bark, laudanum, calomel, and jalap, and the lancet.
There are no druggist shops here, nor sons of Galen
to apply to in time of need. I never go encumbered
with many clothes. A thin flannel waistcoat under
a check shirt, a pair of trowsers, and a hat, were all
my wardrobe : shoes and stockings I seldom had on.
In dry weather they would have irritated the feet,
and retarded me in the chase of wild beasts ; and in
the rainy season they would have kept me in a per¬
petual state of damp and moisture. I eat moderately,
and never drink wine, spirits, or fermented liquors
in any climate. This abstemiousness has ever proved
a faithful friend ; it carried me triumphant through
the epidemia at Malaga, where death made such
havoc about the beginning of the present century ;
and it has since befriended me in many a fit of
sickness, brought on by exposure to the noon-day
sun, to the dews of night, to the pelting shower, and
unwholesome food.
Perhaps it will be as well, here, to mention a fever
which came on, and the treatment of it ; it may pos¬
sibly be of use to thee, shouldst thou turn wanderer
m the tropics : a word or two also of a w^ound I got
in the forest, and then we will say no more of the
little accidents which sometimes occur, and attend
SOUTH AMERICA.
145
solely to natural history. We shall have an oppor¬
tunity of seeing the wild animals in their native
haunts, undisturbed and unbroken in upon by man.
We shall have time and leisure to look more closely
at them, and probably rectify some errors which, for
want of proper information, or a near observance,
have crept into their several histories.
It was in the month of June, when the sun was
within a few davs of Cancer, that I had a severe
attack of fever. There had been a deluge of rain,
accompanied with tremendous thunder and light¬
ning, and very little sun. Nothing could exceed the
dampness of the atmosphere. For two or three
days I had been in a kind of twilight state of health,
neither ill nor what you may call well ; I yawned
and felt weary without exercise, and my sleep was
merely slumber. This was the time to have taken
medicine ; but I neglected to do so, though I had
just been reading, “ O navis referent in mare te
novi fluctus, O quid agis ? fortiter occupa portum.”
I awoke at midnight ; a cruel head-ach, thirst, and
pain in the small of the back, informed me what the
case was. Had Chiron himself been present, he
could not have told me more distinctly that I was
going to have a tight brush of it, and that I ought
to meet it with becoming fortitude. I dozed, and
woke, and startled, and then dozed again, and sud¬
denly awoke, thinking I was falling down a pre¬
cipice.
The return of the bats to their diurnal retreat,
which was in the thatch above my hammock,
L
THIRD
JOURN KT.
Severe
attack of
fever.
146
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
informed me that the sun was now fast approaching
to the eastern horizon. I arose, in languor and in
pain, the pulse at one hundred and twenty. I took
ten grains of calomel and a scruple of jalap, and
drank during the day large draughts of tea, weak
and warm. The physic did its duty; but there was
no remission of fever or head-ach, though the pain
of the back was less acute. I was saved the trouble
of keeping the room cool, as the wind beat in at
every quarter.
At five in the evening the pulse had risen to one
hundred and thirty, and the head-ach almost insup¬
portable, especially on looking to the right or left.
I now opened a vein, and made a large orifice, to
allow the blood to rush out rapidly ; I closed it after
losing sixteen ounces. I then steeped my feet in
warm water, and got into the hammock. After
bleeding, the pulse fell to ninety, and the head was
much relieved; but during the night, which was
very restless, the pulse rose again to one hundred
and twenty, and at times the head-ach was distress¬
ing. I relieved the head-ach from time to time, by
applying cold water to the temples, and holding a
wet handkerchief there. The next morning the fever
ran very high, and I took five more grains of calo¬
mel and ten of jalap, determined, whatever might be
the case, this should be the last dose of calomel.
About two o’clock in the afternoon the fever remitted,
and a copious perspiration came on ; there wras no
more head-ach, nor thirst, nor pain in the back, and
the following night was comparatively a good one.
SOUTH AMERICA.
147
The next morning I swallowed a large dose of castor T1IIHD
oil : it was genuine, for Louisa Backer had made it J0URNE-
from the seeds of the trees which grew near the door.
I was now entirely free from all symptoms of fever,
or apprehensions of a return ; and the morning after
I began to take bark, and continued it for a fortnight.
This put all to rights.
The story of the wound I got in the forest, and the Meets
mode of cure, are very short. — I had pursued a red- Occident,
headed woodpecker for above a mile in the forest,
without being able to get a shot at it. Thinking
more of the woodpecker, as I ran along, than of the
way before me, I trod upon a little hardwood stump,
which was just about an inch or so above the ground ;
it entered the hollow part of my foot, making a deep
and lacerated wound there. It had brought me to
the ground, and there I lay till a transitory fit of
sickness went off. I allowed it to bleed freely, and
on reaching head-quarters, washed it well and probed
it, to feel if any foreign body was left within it.
Being satisfied that there was none, I brought the
edges of the wound together, and then put a piece of
lint on it, and over that a very large poultice, which
was changed morning, noon, and night. Luckily,
Backer had a cow or two upon the hill ; now as heat
and moisture are the two principal virtues of a poul¬
tice, nothing could produce those two qualities better
than fresh cow-dung boiled : had there been no cows
there, I could have made out with boiled grass and
leaves. I now took entirely to the hammock,
placing the foot higher than the knee $ this prevented
148
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Last con¬
versation
with Sir
Joseph
Banks.
it from throbbing, and was, indeed, the only position
in which I could be at ease. When the inflamma¬
tion was completely subdued, I applied a wet cloth
to the wound, and every now and then steeped the
foot in cold water during the day, and at night again
applied a poultice. The wound was now healing
fast, and in three weeks from the time of the accident
nothing but a scar remained ; so that I again sallied
forth sound and joyful, and said to myself —
“ I, pedes quo te rapiunt et aurae
Dum favet sol, et locus, i secundo
Omine, et conto latebras, ut olim,
Rumpe ferarum.”
Now, this contus was a tough light pole, eight feet
long, on the end of which was fixed an old bayonet.
I never went into the canoe without it ; it was of
great use in starting the beasts and snakes out of the
hollow trees, and in case of need, was an excellent
defence.
In 1819, I had the last conversation with Sir
Joseph Banks. I saw with sorrow that death was
going to rob us of him. We talked much of the
present mode adopted by all museums in stuffing
quadrupeds, and condemned it as being very imper¬
fect : still we could not find out a better way ; and
at last concluded, that the lips and nose ought to be
cut off, and replaced with wax ; it being impossible
to make those parts appear like life, as they shrink
to nothing, and render the stuffed specimens in the
different museums horrible to look at. The defects
in the legs and feet would not be quite so glaring,
being covered with hair.
SOUTH AMERICA.
149
I had paid great attention to this subject for above third
fourteen years ; still it would not do : however, one stuffing ~
nigdit, while I was lying; in the hammock, andbird?and
& J ° 1 quadru-
liarping on the string on which hung all my solici- Peds-
tude, I hit upon the proper mode by inference; it
appeared clear to me that it was the only true way of
going to work, and ere I closed my eyes in sleep, I
was able to prove to myself that there could not be
any other way that would answer. I tried it the
next day, and succeeded according to expectation.
By means of this process, which is very simple,
we can now give every feature back again to the
animal’s face, after it has been skinned ; and when
necessary, stamp grief, or pain, or pleasure, or rage,
or mildness upon it. But more of this hereafter.
Let us now turn our attention to the Sloth, whose TheSioth.
native haunts have hitherto been so little known, and
probably little looked into. Those who have written
on this singular animal, have remarked that he is in
a perpetual state of pain, that he is proverbially slow
in his movements, that he is a prisoner in space, and
that as soon as he has consumed all the leaves of
the tree upon which he had mounted, he rolls him¬
self up in the form of a ball, and then falls to the
ground. This is not the case.
If the naturalists who have written the history of
the sloth had gone into the wilds, in order to examine
his haunts and economy, they would not have drawn
the foregoing conclusions ; they would have learned,
that though all other quadrupeds may be described
while resting upon the ground, the sloth is an
150
WANDERINGS IN'
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Lives in
gloomy
forests.
exception to this rule, and that his history must he
written while he is in the tree.
This singular animal is destined by nature to be
produced, to live, and to die in the trees ; and to do
justice to him, naturalists must examine him in this
his upper element. He is a scarce and solitary
animal, and being good food, he is never allowed to
escape. He inhabits remote and gloomy forests,
where snakes take up their abode, and where cruelly
stinging ants and scorpions, and swamps, and innu¬
merable thorny shrubs and bushes, obstruct the steps
of civilized man. Were you to draw your own con¬
clusions from the descriptions which have been given
of the sloth, you would probably suspect, that no
naturalist has actually gone into the wilds with the
fixed determination to find him out and examine his
haunts, and see whether nature has committed any
blunder in the formation of this extraordinary crea¬
ture, which appears to us so forlorn and miserable,
so ill put together, and so totally unfit to enjoy the
blessings which have been so bountifully given to
the rest of animated nature ; for, as it has formerly
been remarked, he has no soles to his feet, and he is
evidently ill at ease when he tries to move on the
ground, and it is then that he looks up in your face
with a countenance that says, “ Have pity on me,
for I am in pain and sorrow.”
It mostly happens that Indians and Negroes are
the people who catch the sloth, and bring it to the
white man : hence it may be conjectured that the
erroneous accounts we have hitherto had of the sloth.
SOUTH AMERICA.
151
have not been penned down with the slightest inten- third
tion to mislead the reader, or give him an exagge- - J
rated history, but that these errors have naturally
arisen by examining the sloth in those places where
nature never intended that he should be exhibited.
However, we are now in his own domain. Man
but little frequents these thick and noble forests,
which extend far and wide on every side of us. This,
then, is the proper place to go in quest of the sloth.
W e will first take a near view of him. By obtaining
a knowledge of his anatomy, we shall be enabled to Anatomy
account for his movements hereafter, when we see sloth,
him in his proper haunts. His fore-legs, or, more
correctly speaking, his arms, are apparently much
too long, while his liind-legs are very short, and
look as if they could be bent almost to the shape of
a corkscrew. Both the fore and hind-legs, by their
form, and by the manner in which they are joined
to the body, are quite incapacitated from acting in a
perpendicular direction, or in supporting it on the
earth as the bodies of other quadrupeds are sup¬
ported, by their legs. Hence, when you place him
on the floor, his belly touches the ground. Now,
granted that he supported himself on his legs like
other animals, nevertheless he would be in pain, for he
has no soles to his feet, and his claws are very sharp
and long, and curved ; so that, were his body sup¬
ported by his feet, it would be by their extremities,
just as your body would be, were you to throw your¬
self on all fours, and try to support it on the ends of
your toes and fingers — a trying position. Were the
152
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOUR'S e y
floor of glass, or of a polished surface, the sloth
would actually be quite stationary ; but as the ground
is generally rough, with little protuberances upon it,
such as stones, or roots of grass, &c. this just suits
the sloth, and he moves his fore-legs in all directions,
in order to find something to lay hold of ; and when
he has succeeded, he pulls himself forward, and is
thus enabled to travel onwards, but at the same time
in so tardy and awkward a manner, as to acquire
him the name of Sloth.
Indeed his looks and his gestures evidently betray
his uncomfortable situation ; and as a sigh every now
and then escapes him, we may be entitled to con¬
clude that he is actually in pain.
Some years ago I kept a sloth in my room for
several months. I often took him out of the house
and placed him upon the ground, in order to have an
opportunity of observing his motions. If the ground
were rough, he would pull himself forwards, by
means of his fore-legs, at a pretty good pace ; and
he invariably immediately shaped his course towards
the nearest tree. But if I put him upon a smooth
and well-trodden part of the road, he appeared to be
in trouble and distress : his favourite abode was the
back of a chair ; and after getting all his legs in a
line upon the topmost part of it, he would hang there
for hours together, and often, with a low and inward
cry, would seem to invite me to take notice of him.
The sloth, in its wild state, spends its whole life
in trees, and never leaves them but through force,
or by accident. An all-ruling Providence has
SOUTH AMERICA.
153
ordered man to tread on the surface of the earth, the third
JOURNEY.
eagle to soar in the expanse of the skies, and the
monkey and squirrel to inhabit the trees : still these
may change their relative situations without feeling
much inconvenience : but the sloth is doomed to
spend his whole life in the trees; and, what is more
extraordinary, not upon the branches, like the squirrel
and the monkey, but under them. He moves sus¬
pended from the branch, he rests suspended from it,
and he sleeps suspended from it. To enable him to
do this, he must have a very different formation from
that of any other known quadruped.
Hence, his seemingly bungled conformation is at
once accounted for ; and in lieu of the sloth leading
a painful life, and entailing a melancholy and miser¬
able existence on its progeny, it is but fair to surmise
that it just enjoys life as much as any other animal,
and that its extraordinary formation and singular
habits are but further proofs to engage us to admire
the wonderful works of Omnipotence.
It must be observed, that the sloth does not hang
head downwards like the vampire. When asleep,
he supports himself from a branch parallel to the
earth. He first seizes the branch with one arm, and
then with the other ; and after that, brings up both
his legs, one by one, to the same branch ; so that all
four are in a line : he seems perfectly at rest in this
position. Now, had he a tail, he would be at a loss
to know what to do with it in this position : were he
to draw it up within his legs, it would interfere with
them ; and were he to let it hang down, it would
154
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
.7 OUR HEY
become the sport of the winds. Thus his deficiency
of tail is a benefit to him ; it is merely an apology
for a tail, scarcely exceeding an inch and a half in
length.
I observed, when he was climbing, he never used
his arms both together, but first one and then the
other, and so on alternately. There is a singularity
in his hair, different from that of all other animals,
and, I believe, hitherto unnoticed by naturalists ;
his hair is thick and coarse at the extremity, and
gradually tapers to the root, where it becomes fine
as a spider’s web. His fur has so much the hue of
the moss which grows on the branches of the trees,
that it is very difficult to make him out when he is
at rest.
The male of the three-toed sloth has a longitudinal
bar of very fine black hair on his back, rather lower
than the shoulder-blades ; on each side of this black
bar there is a space of yellow hair, equally fine ; it
has the appearance of being pressed into the body,
and looks exactly as if it had been singed. If we
examine the anatomy of his fore-legs, we shall im¬
mediately perceive by their firm and muscular tex¬
ture, how very capable they are of supporting the
pendent weight of his body, both in climbing and at
rest ; and, instead of pronouncing them a bungled
composition, as a celebrated naturalist has done, we
shall consider them as remarkably well calculated to
perform their extraordinary functions.
As the sloth is an inhabitant of forests within the
tropics, where the trees touch each other in the
SOUTH AMERICA.
155
greatest profusion, there seems to be no reason why
he should confine himself to one tree alone for food,
and entirely strip it of its leaves. During the many
years I have ranged the forests, I have never seen a
tree in such a state of nudity ; indeed, I would hazard
a conjecture, that, by the time the animal had finished
the last of the old leaves, there would be a new crop
on the part of the tree he had stripped first, ready
for him to begin again, so quick is the process of
vegetation in these countries.
There is a saying amongst the Indians, that when
the wind blows, the sloth begins to travel. In calm
wreather he remains tranquil, probably not liking to
cling to the brittle extremity of the branches, lest
they should break with him in passing from one tree
to another ; but as soon as the wind rises, the branches
of the neighbouring trees become interwoven, and
then the sloth seizes hold of them, and pursues his
journey in safety. There is seldom an entire day of
calm in these forests. The trade-wind generally
sets in about ten o’clock in the morning, and thus
the sloth may set off after breakfast, and get a con¬
siderable way before dinner. He travels at a good
round pace ; and were you to see him pass from tree
to tree, as I have done, you would never think of
calling him a sloth.
Thus, it would appear that the different histories
we have of this quadruped are erroneous on two
accounts : first, that the writers of them, deterred
by difficulties and local annoyances, have not paid
sufficient attention to him in his native haunts j and
THIRD
OURNK Y.
156
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
The
two-toed
Sloth.
secondly, they have described him in a situation in
which he was never intended by nature to cut a
figure ; I mean on the ground. The sloth is as much
at a loss to proceed on his journey upon a smooth
and level floor, as a man would be who had to walk
a mile in stilts upon a line of feather beds.
One day, as we were crossing the Essequibo, I
saw a large two-toed sloth on the ground upon the
bank ; how he had got there nobody could tell : the
Indian said he had never surprised a sloth in such
a situation before : he would hardly have come there
to drink, for both above and below the place, the
branches of the trees touched the wrater, and afforded
him an easy and safe access to it. Be this as it may,
though the trees were not above twenty yards from
him, he could not make his way through the sand
time enough to escape before we landed. As soon
as we got up to him he threw himself upon his back,
and defended himself in gallant style with his fore¬
legs. u Come, poor fellow,” said I to him, u if thou
hast got into a hobble to-day, thou slialt not suffer
for it : I’ll take no advantage of thee in misfortune;
the forest is large enough both for thee and me to
rove in : go thy ways up above, and enjoy thyself
in these endless wilds ; it is more than probable thou
wilt never have another interview with man. So
fare thee well.” On saying this, I took a long stick
which was lying there, held it for him to hook on,
and then conveyed him to a high and stately mora.
He ascended with wonderful rapidity, and in about
a minute he was almost at the top of the tree. He
SOUTH AMERICA.
157
now went off in a side direction, and cauglit hold of third
the branch of a neighbouring tree; he then proceeded
towards the heart of the forest. I stood looking on,
lost in amazement at his singular mode of progress.
I followed him with my eye till the intervening
branches closed in betwixt us ; and then I lost sight
for ever of the two-toed sloth. I was going to add,
that I never saw a sloth take to his heels in such
earnest ; but the expression will not do, for the sloth
has no heels.
That which naturalists have advanced of his being
so tenacious of life, is perfectly true. I saw the
heart of one beat for half an hour after it was taken
out of the body. The wourali poison seems to be
the only thing that will kill it quickly. On reference
to a former part of these wanderings, it will be seen
that a poisoned arrow killed the sloth in about ten
minutes.
So much for this harmless, unoffending animal.
He holds a conspicuous place in the catalogue of
the animals of the new world. Though naturalists
have made no mention of what follows, still it is not
less true on that account. The sloth is the only
quadruped known, which spends its whole life from
the branch of a tree, suspended by his feet. I have
paid uncommon attention to him in his native haunts.
The monkey and squirrel will seize a branch with
their fore-feet, and pull themselves up, and rest or
run upon it; but the sloth, after seizing it, still
remains suspended, and suspended moves along
under the branch, till he can lay hold of another.
158
WANDERINGS IN
third
JOURNEY.
Ants.
Three
species of
Ant-
bears.
Whenever I have seen him in his native woods,
whether at rest, or asleep, or on his travels, I have
always observed that he was suspended from the
branch of a tree. When his form and anatomy are
attentively considered, it will appear evident that the
sloth cannot be at ease in any situation, where his
body is higher, or above his feet. We will now take
our leave of him.
In the far-extending wilds of Guiana, the traveller
will be astonished at the immense quantity of ants
which he perceives on the ground and in the trees.
They have nests in the branches, four or five times
as large as that of the rook ; and they have a co¬
vered way from them to the ground. In this covered
way thousands are perpetually passing and repassing;
and if you destroy part of it, they turn to, and im¬
mediately repair it.
Other species of ants again have no covered way ;
but travel, exposed to view, upon the surface of the
earth. You will sometimes see a string of these
ants a mile long, each carrying in its mouth to its
nest a green leaf, the size of a sixpence. It is won¬
derful to observe the order in which they move, and
with what pains and labour they surmount the ob¬
structions of the path.
The ants have their enemies, as well as the rest of
animated nature. Amongst the foremost of these
stand the three species of Ant-bears. The smallest
is not much larger than a rat ; the next is nearly the
size of a fox ; and the third a stout and powerful
animal, measuring about six feet from the snout to
SOUTH AMERICA.
159
the end of the tail. He is the most inoffensive of
all animals, and never injures the property of man.
He is chiefly found in the inmost recesses of the
forest, and seems partial to the low and swampy
parts near creeks, where the troely tree grows.
There he goes up and down in quest of ants, of
which there is never the least scarcity ; so that he
soon obtains a sufficient supply of food, with very
little trouble. He cannot travel fast ; man is supe¬
rior to him in speed. Without swiftness to enable
him to escape from his enemies, without teeth, the
possession of which would assist him in self-defence,
and without the power of burrowing in the ground,
by which he might conceal himself from his pur¬
suers, he still is capable of ranging through these
wilds in perfect safety ; nor does he fear the fatal
pressure of the serpent’s fold, or the teeth of the
famished jaguar. Nature has formed his fore-legs
wonderfully thick, and strong, and muscular, and
armed his feet with three tremendous sharp and
crooked claws. Whenever he seizes an animal with
these formidable weapons, he hugs it close to his
body, and keeps it there till it dies through pressure,
or through want of food. Nor does the ant-bear,
in the mean time, suffer much from loss of aliment,
as it is a well-known fact, that he can go longer
without food than, perhaps, any other animal, ex¬
cept the land-tortoise. His skin is of a texture that
perfectly resists the bite of a dog ; his hinder parts are
protected by thick and shaggy hair, while his im¬
mense tail is large enough to cover his whole body.
THIRD
JOURNEV.
160
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
The Indians have a great dread of coining in con-
' tact with the ant-bear ; and after disabling him in
the chase, never think of approaching him till he be
quite dead. It is perhaps on account of this caution,
that naturalists have never yet given to the world a
true and correct drawing of this singular animal, or
described the peculiar position of his fore-feet when
he walks or stands. If, in taking a drawing from
a dead ant-bear, you judge of the position in which
he stands from that of all other terrestrial animals,
the sloth excepted, you will be in error. Examine
only a figure of this animal in books of natural
history, or inspect a stuffed specimen in the best
museums, and you will see that the fore claws are
just in the same forward attitude as those of a dog,
or a common bear, when he walks or stands. But
this is a distorted and unnatural position ; and in
life, would be a painful and intolerable attitude for
the ant-bear. The length and curve of his claws
cannot admit of such a position. When he walks
or stands, his feet have somewhat the appearance of
a club-hand. He goes entirely on the outer side of
his fore-feet, which are quite bent inwards ; the claws
collected into a point, and going under the foot. In
this position he is quite at ease ; while his long claws are
disposed ofin a manner to render them harmless to him,
and are prevented from becoming dull and worn, like
those of the dog, which would inevitably be the case,
did their points come in actual contact with the ground ;
for his claws have not that retractile power which is
given to animals of the feline species, by which they
SOUTH AMERICA.
161
are enabled to preserve the sharpness of their claws third
on the most flinty path. A slight inspection of the JOURNEY-
fore-feet of the ant-bear will immediately convince
you of the mistake artists and naturalists have fallen
into, by putting his fore-feet in the same position as
those of other quadrupeds ; for you will perceive that
the whole outer side of his foot is not only deprived
of hair, but is hard and callous; proof positive of
its being in perpetual contact with the ground.
Now, on the contrary, the inner side of the bottom
of his foot is soft and rather hairy.
There is another singularity in the anatomy of the Peculi-
ant-bear, I believe, as yet unnoticed in the page of the7 ™
natural history. He has two very large glands of the™7
situated below the root of the tongue. From these Ant bear
is emitted a glutinous liquid, with which his long
tongue is lubricated when he puts it into the ants’
nests. These glands are of the same substance as
those found in the lower jaw of the woodpecker.
The secretion from them, when wet, is very clammy
and adhesive, but on being dried it Joses these
qualities, and you can pulverize it betwixt your
finger and thumb ; so that, in dissection, if any of
it has got upon the fur of the animal, or the feathers
of the bird, allow it to dry there, and then it may be
removed without leaving the least stain behind.
The ant-bear is a pacific animal. He is never
the first to begin the attack. His motto may be,
u Noli me tangere.” As his habits and his haunts
differ materially from those of every other animal in
the forest, their interests never clash, and thus he
162
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
The Vam¬
pire.
might live to a good old age, and die at last in peace,
: were it not that his flesh is good food. On this
account, the Indian wages perpetual war against him,
and as he cannot escape by flight, he falls an easy
prey to the poisoned arrow, shot from the Indian’s
bow at a distance. If ever he be closely attacked
by dogs, he immediately throws himself on his back,
and if he be fortunate enough to catch hold of his
enemy with his tremendous claws, the invader is
sure to pay for his rashness with the loss of life.
We will now take a view of the Vampire. As
there was a free entrance and exit to the vampire, in
the loft where I slept, I had many a fine opportunity
of paying attention to this nocturnal surgeon. He
does not always live on blood. When the moon
shone bright, and the fruit of the banana-tree was
ripe, I could see him approach and eat it. He
would also bring into the loft, from the forest, a
green round fruit, something like the wild guava,
and about the size of a nutmeg. There was some¬
thing also, in the blossom of the sawarri nut-tree,
which was grateful to him ; for on coming up
Waratilla creek, in a moonlight night, I saw several
vampires fluttering round the top of the sawarri tree,
and every now and then the blossoms, which they
had broken off, fell into the water. They certainly
did not drop off naturally, for on examining several
of them, they appeared quite fresh and blooming. So
I concluded the vampires pulled them from the tree,
either to get at the incipient fruit, or to catch the
insects which often take up their abode in flowers.
SOUTH AMERICA.
1G3
The vampire, in general, measures about twenty- THIRD
six inches from wing to wing extended, though I J0URMEY-
once killed one which measured thirty- two inches.
He frequents old abandoned houses and hollow trees ;
and sometimes a cluster of them may be seen in the
forest hanging head downwards from the branch of
a tree.
Goldsmith seems to have been aware that the
vampire hangs in clusters ; for in the “ Deserted
Village,” speaking of America, he says, —
“ And matted woods, where birds forget to sing,
But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling.”
The vampire has a curious membrane, which rises
from the nose, and gives it a very singular appear¬
ance. It has been remarked before, that there are
two species of vampire in Guiana, a larger and a
smaller. The larger sucks men and other animals ;
the smaller seems to confine himself chiefly to birds.
I learnt from a gentleman, high up in the river
Demerara, that he was completely unsuccessful with
his fowls, on account of the small vampire. He
showed me some that had been sucked the night
before, and they were scarcely able to walk.
Some years ago I went to the river Paumaron Anecdote,
with a Scotch gentleman, by name Tarbet. We
hung our hammocks in the thatched loft of a planter’s
house. Next morning I heard this gentleman mut¬
tering in his hammock, and now and then letting
fall an imprecation or twx>, just about the time he
ought to have been saying his morning prayers.
“ What is the matter, Sir,” said I, softly ; u is any
thing amiss ?” u What’s the matter !” answered he
m 2
164
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
Jfll'RNKY.
Species
of large
red Ant.
surlily ; u why, the vampires have been sucking me
to death.” As soon as there was light enough, I
went to his hammock, and saw it much stained with
blood. “ There,” said he, thrusting his foot out of
the hammock, “see how these infernal imps have
been drawing my life’s blood.” On examining his
foot, I found the vampire had tapped his great toe :
there was a wound somewhat less than that made
by a leech ; the blood was still oozing from it ; I
conjectured he might have lost from ten to twelve
ounces of blood. Whilst examining it, I think I
put him into a worse humour by remarking, that an
European surgeon would not have been so generous
as to have blooded him without making a charge.
He looked up in my face, but did not say a word :
I saw he was of opinion that I had better have
spared this piece of ill-timed levity.
It was not the last punishment of this good gentle¬
man in the river Paumaron. The next night he
was doomed to undergo a kind of ordeal unknown in
Europe. There is a species of large red ant in Gui¬
ana, sometimes called Ranger, sometimes Coushie.
These ants march in millions through the country,
in compact order, like a regiment of soldiers ; they
eat up every insect in their march ; and if a house
obstruct their route, they do not turn out of the way,
but go quite through it. Though they sting cruelly
when molested, the planter is not sorry to see them
in his house ; for it is but a passing visit, and they
destroy every kind of insect vermin that had taken
shelter under his roof.
Now, in the British plantations of Guiana, as well
SOUTH AMERICA.
1C5
as in Europe, there is always a little temple aedi- third
catecl to the goddess Cloacina. Our dinner had - -
chiefly consisted of crabs, dressed in rich and different
ways. Paumaron is famous for crabs, and strangers
who go thither consider them the greatest luxury.
The Scotch gentleman made a very capital dinner on
crabs ; but this change of diet was productive of un¬
pleasant circumstances : he awoke in the night in
that state in which Virgil describes Cseleno to have
been, viz. “faedissima ventris proluvies.” Up he
got, to verify the remark,
u Serius aut citius, sedem properamus ad unam.”
Now, unluckily for himself, and the nocturnal
tranquillity of the planter’s house, just at that unfor¬
tunate hour, the coushie ants were passing across the
seat of Cloacina’s temple ; he had never dreamed of
this ; and so, turning his face to the door, he placed
himself in the usual situation which the votaries of
the goddess generally take. Had a lighted match
dropped upon a pound of gunpowder, as he after¬
wards remarked, it could not have caused a greater
recoil. Up he jumped, and forced his way out,
roaring for help and for a light, for he was worried
alive by ten thousand devils. The fact is, he had
sat down upon an intervening body of coushie ants.
Many of those which escaped being crushed to death,
turned again ; and, in revenge, stung the uninten¬
tional intruder most severely. The watchman had
fallen asleep, and it was some time before a light
could be procured, the fire having gone out ; in the
mean time, the poor gentleman was suffering an
166
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
The Ar¬
madillo. '
indescribable martyrdom, and would have found
: himself more at home in the Augean stable than in
the planter’s house.
I had often wished to have been once sucked by the
vampire, in order that I might have it in my power
to say it had really happened to me. There can be
no pain in the operation, for the patient is always
asleep when the vampire is sucking him ; and as for
the loss of a few ounces of blood, that would be a
trifle in the long run. Many a night have I slept
with my foot out of the hammock to tempt this winged
surgeon, expecting that he wrould be there; but it
was all in vain ; the vampire never sucked me, and
I could never account for his not doing so, for we
were inhabitants of the same loft for months together.
The Armadillo is very common in these forests ;
he burrows in the sand-hills like a rabbit. As it
often takes a considerable time to dig him out of his
hole, it would be a long and laborious business to
attack each hole indiscriminately without knowing
whether the animal were there or not. To prevent
disappointment, the Indians carefully examine the
mouth of the hole, and put a short stick down it.
Now if, on introducing the stick, a number of mos¬
quitos come out, the Indians know to a certainty that
the armadillo is in it : wherever there are no mos¬
quitos in the hole, there is no armadillo. The Indian
having satisfied himself that the armadillo is there,
by the mosquitos which come out, he immediately
cuts a long and slender stick, and introduces it into
the hole : he carefully observes the line the stick
SOUTH AMERICA.
167
takes, and then sinks a pit in the sand to catch the third
end of it : this done, he puts it farther into the hole, - ’
and digs another pit, and so on, till at last he comes
up with the armadillo, which had been making itself
a passage in the sand till it had exhausted all its
strength through pure exertion. I have been some¬
times three quarters of a day in digging out one
armadillo, and obliged to sink half a dozen pits,
seven feet deep, before I got up to it. The Indians
and negroes are very fond of the flesh, but I con¬
sider it strong and rank.
On laying hold of the armadillo you must be
cautious not to come in contact with his feet : they
are armed with sharp claws, and with them he will
inflict a severe wound in self-defence : when not mo¬
lested, he is very harmless and innocent ; he would
put you in mind of the hare in Gay’s Fables, —
“ Whose care was never to offend,
And every creature was her friend.”
The armadillo swims well in time of need, but
does not go into the water by choice. He is very
seldom seen abroad during the day ; and when sur¬
prised, he is sure to be near the mouth of his hole.
Every part of the armadillo is well protected by his
shell, except his ears. In life, this shell is very
limber, so that the animal is enabled to go at full
stretch, or roll himself up into a ball, as occasion
may require.
On inspecting the arrangement of the shell, it puts
you very much in mind of a coat of armour; indeed
it is a natural coat of armour to the armadillo, and
168
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
TheLand-
tortoise.
being composed both of scale and bone, it affords
ample security, and lias a pleasing effect.
Often, when roving in the wilds, I would fall in
with the land tortoise ; he too adds another to the
list of unoffending animals; he subsists on the fallen
fruits of the forest. When an enemy approaches he
never thinks of moving, but quietly draws himself
under his shell, and there awaits his doom in pa¬
tience : he only seems to have two enemies who can
do him any damage ; one of these is the boa con¬
strictor : this snake swallows the tortoise alive, shell
and all. But a boa large enough to do this is very
scarce, and thus there is not much to apprehend from
that quarter ; the other enemy is man, who takes up
the tortoise, and carries him away. Man also is
scarce in these never-ending wilds, and the little de¬
predations he may commit upon the tortoise will be
nothing, or a mere trifle. The tiger’s teeth cannot
penetrate its shell, nor can a stroke of his paws do
it any damage. It is of so compact and strong a
nature, that there is a common saying, a London
waggon might roll over it and not break it.
Ere we proceed, let us take a retrospective view
of the five animals just enumerated; they are all
quadrupeds, and have some very particular mark, or
mode of existence, different from all other animals.
The sloth has four feet, but never can use them to
support his body on the earth ; they want soles,
which are a marked feature in the feet of other
animals. The ant-bear has not a tooth in his head,
still he roves fearless on, in the same forests with the
SOUTH AMERICA.
169
jaguar and boa constrictor. The vampire does not
make use of his feet to walk, but to stretch a mem¬
brane, which enables him to go up into an element,
where no other quadruped is seen. The armadillo
has only here and there a straggling hair, and has
neither fur, nor wool, nor bristles, but in lieu of
them has received a movable shell, on which are
scales very much like those of fishes. The tortoise
is oviparous, entirely without any appearance of
hair, and is obliged to accommodate itself to a shell
which is quite hard and inflexible, and in no point
of view whatever obedient to the will or pleasure of
the bearer. The egg of the tortoise has a very hard
shell, while that of the turtle is quite soft.
In some parts of these forests I saw the Vanilla
growing luxuriantly. It creeps up the trees to the
height of thirty or forty feet. I found it difficult to
get a ripe pod, as the monkies are very fond of it,
and generally took care to get there before me. The
pod hangs from the tree in the shape of a little scab¬
bard. Vayna is the Spanish for a scabbard, and
Vanilla for a little scabbard. Hence the name.
In Mibiri creek there was a Cayman of the small
species, measuring about five feet in length ; I saw
it in the same place for months, but could never get
a shot at it ; for the moment I thought I was sure
of it, it dived under the water before I could pull
the trigger. At last I got an Indian with his bow
and arrow ; he stood up in the canoe with his bow
ready bent, and as we drifted past the place, he sent
his arrow into the cayman’s eye, and killed it dead.
THIRD
JOURNEY.
The Va¬
nilla.
Shoots a
Cayman
in Mibiri
creek.
170
wanderings in
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Negro
servant.
Species of
the Capri-
mulgus.
The
Wasps, or
Mari-
buntas.
The skin of this little species is much harder and
stronger than that of the large kind ; it is good food,
and tastes like veal.
My friend, Mr. Edmonstone, had very kindly let
me have one of his old negroes, and he constantly
attended me ; his name was Daddy Quashi ; he had
a brave stomach for heterogeneous food ; it could
digest, and relish too, caymen, monkies, hawks, and
grubs. The Daddy made three or four meals on this
cayman while it was not absolutely putrid, and salted
the rest. I could never get him to face a snake ;
the horror he betrayed on seeing one was beyond
description : I asked him why he was so terribly
alarmed ; he said it was by seeing so many dogs,
from time to time, killed by them.
Here I had a fine opportunity of examining several
species of the Caprimulgus. I am fully persuaded
that these innocent little birds never suck the herds ;
for when they approach them, and jump up at their
udders, it is to catch the flies and insects there.
When the moon shone bright, I would frequently
go and stand within three yards of a cow, and dis¬
tinctly see the caprimulgus catch the flies on its
udder. On looking for them in the forest, during
the day, I either found them on the ground, or else
invariably sitting longitudinally on the branch of a
tree, not crosswise , like all other birds.
The Wasps, or Maribuntas, are great plagues in
these forests, and require the naturalist to be cautious
as he wanders up and down. Some make their
nests pendent from the branches ; others have them
SOUTH AMERICA.
171
fixed to the underside of a leaf. Now, in passing on,
if you happen to disturb one of these, they sally forth
and punish you severely. The largest kind is blue;
it brings blood where its sting enters, and causes
pain and inflammation enough to create a fever.
The Indians make a fire under the nest, and after
killing, or driving away the old ones, they roast the
young grubs in the comb and eat them. I tried
them once by way of desert after dinner, but my
stomach was offended at their intrusion ; probably
it was more the idea than the taste that caused the
stomach to rebel.
Time and experience have convinced me that there
is not much danger in roving amongst snakes and
wild beasts, provided only that you have self-com¬
mand. You must never approach them abruptly;
if so, you are sure to pay for your rashness ; because
the idea of self-defence is predominant in every
animal, and thus the snake, to defend himself from
what he considers an attack upon him, makes the
intruder feel the deadly effect of his poisonous fangs.
The jaguar flies at you, and knocks you senseless
with a stroke of his paw ; whereas, if you had not
come upon him too suddenly, it is ten to one but
that he had retired, in lieu of disputing the path
with you. The labarri snake is very poisonous, and
I have often approached within two yards of him
without fear. I took care to move very softly and
gently, without moving my arms, and he always
allowed me to have a fine view of him, without
showing the least inclination to make a spring at
THIRD
JOURNEY
Snakes
and wild
beasts.
172
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Catches a
live
Labarri
snake.
me. He would appear to keep his eye fixed on me,
as though suspicious, but that was all. Sometimes
I have taken a stick ten feet long, and placed it on
the labarri’s back. He would then glide away
without offering resistance. But when I put the
end of the stick abruptly to his head, he immediately
opened his mouth, flew at it, and bit it.
One day, wishful to see how the poison comes out
of the fang of the snake, I caught a labarri alive.
He was about eight feet long. I held him by the
neck, and my hand was so near his jaw, that he had
not room to move his head to bite it. This was the
only position I could have held him in with safety
and effect. To do so, it only required a little reso¬
lution and coolness. I then took a small piece of
stick in the other hand, and pressed it against the
fang, which is invariably in the upper jaw. Towards
the point of the fang, there is a little oblong aper¬
ture on the convex side of it. Through this, there
is a communication down the fang to the root, at
which lies a little bag containing the poison. Now,
when the point of the fang is pressed, the root of
the fang also presses against the bag, and sends up
a portion of the poison therein contained. Thus,
when I applied a piece of stick to the point of the
fang, there came out of the hole a liquor thick and
yellow, like strong camomile tea. This was the
poison, which is so dreadful in its effects, as to
render the labarri snake one of the most poisonous
in the forests of Guiana. I once caught a fine
labarri, and made it bite itself. I forced the
SOUTH AMERICA.
173
poisonous fang into its belly. In a few minutes I THIRD
thought it was going to die, for it appeared dull -orBVEY‘
and heavy. However, in half an hour’s time, he
was as brisk and vigorous as ever, and in the course
of the day showed no symptoms of being affected.
Is then the life of the snake proof against its own
poison ? This subject is not unworthy of the con¬
sideration of the naturalist.
In Guiana there is a little insect in the grass, and The Bete-
on the shrubs, which the French call Bete-rouge. It rou°e‘
is of a beautiful scarlet colour, and so minute, that
you must bring your eye close to it before you can
perceive it. It is most numerous in the rainy season .
Its bite causes an intolerable itching. The best way
to get rid of it, is to rub the part affected with oil
or rum. You must be careful not to scratch it. If
you do so, and break the skin, you expose yourself
to a sore. The first year I was in Guiana, the bete-
rouge, and my own want of knowledge, and, I may
add, the little attention I paid to it, created an ulcer
above the ancle, which annoyed me for six months,
and if I hobbled out into the grass, a number of
bete-rouge would settle on the edges of the sore, and
increase the inflammation.
Still more inconvenient, painful, and annoying is The
another little pest, called the Chegoe. It looks ex¬
actly like a very small flea, and a stranger would
take it for one. However, in about four and twenty
hours, he would have several broad hints that he
had made a mistake in his ideas of the animal. It
attacks different parts of the body, but chiefly the
174
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD feet, betwixt the toe nails and the flesh. There it
joornkt. |3urjeg itself*, and at first causes an itching not un¬
pleasant. In a day or so, after examining the part,
you perceive a place about the size of a pea, some¬
what discoloured, rather of a blue appearance.
Sometimes it happens that the itching is so trivial,
you are not aware that the miner is at work. Time,
they say, makes great discoveries. The discoloured
part turns out to be the nest of the chegoe, containing
hundreds of eggs, which, if allowed to hatch there,
the young ones will soon begin to form other nests,
and in time cause a spreading ulcer. As soon as
you perceive that you have got the chegoe in your
flesh, you must take a needle, or a sharp pointed
knife, and take it out. If the nest be formed, great
care must be taken not to break it, otherwise some
of the eggs remain in the flesh, and then you will
soon be annoyed with more chegoes. After re¬
moving the nest, it is well to drop spirit of turpentine
into the hole ; that will most effectually destroy any
chegoe that may be lurking there. Sometimes I
have taken four nests out of my feet in the course of
the day.
Every evening, before sun down, it was part of my
toilette to examine my feet, and see that they were
clear of checmes. Now and then a nest would
escape the scrutiny, and then I had to smart for it
a day or twro after. A chegoe once lit upon the back
of my hand ; wishful to see how he worked, I allowed
him to take possession. He immediately set to work,
head foremost, and in about half an hour he had
SOUTH AMERICA.
175
completely buried himself in the skin. I then let
him feel the point of my knife, and exterminated him.
More than once, after sitting down upon a rotten
stump, I have found myself covered with Ticks.
There is a short and easy way to get quit of these
unwelcome adherents. Make a large fire and stand
close to it, and if you be covered with ticks, they
will all fall off.
Let us now forget for awhile the quadrupeds, ser¬
pents, and insects, and take a transitory view of the
native Indians of these forests.
There are five principal nations or tribes of Indians
in ci-devant Dutch Guiana, commonly known by
the name of Warow, Arowack, Acoway, Carib, and
Macoushi. They live in small hamlets, which con¬
sist of a few huts, never exceeding twelve in number.
These huts are always in the forest, near a river or
some creek. They are open on all sides, (except
those of the Macoushi,) and covered with a species
of palm leaf.
Their principal furniture is the hammock. It
serves them both for chair and bed. It is commonly
made of cotton ; though those of the Warows are
formed from the seta tree. At night they always
make a fire close to it. The heat keeps them warm,
and the smoke drives away the mosquitos and sand¬
flies. You sometimes find a table in the hut ; but
it wras not made by the Indians, but by some negro,
or mulatto carpenter.
They cut down about an acre or two of the trees
wdiicli surround the huts, and there plant pepper,
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Ticks.
Principal
nations,
or tribes
of In¬
dians.
Their
ham¬
mocks.
Occupa¬
tions.
176
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Ferment¬
ed liquor.
Their ha¬
bits.
papaws, sweet and bitter cassava, plantains, sweet
potatoes, yams, pine-apples, and silk-grass. Besides
these, they generally have a few acres in some fertile
part of the forest for their cassava, which is as bread
to them. They make earthen pots to boil their pro¬
visions in ; and they get from the w'hite men flat
circular plates of iron, on which they bake their
cassava. They have to grate the cassava before it
is pressed, preparatory to baking ; and those Indians
who are too far in the wilds to procure graters from
the white men, make use of a flat piece of wood,
studded with sharp stones. They have no cows,
horses, mules, goats, sheep, or asses. The men hunt
and fish, and the women work in the provision
ground, and cook their victuals.
In each hamlet there is the trunk of a large tree,
hollowed out like a trough. In this, from their
cassava, they make an abominable ill-tasted and sour
kind of fermented liquor, called piwarri. They are
very fond of it, and never fail to get drunk after every
brewing. The frequency of the brewing depends
upon the superabundance of cassava.
Both men and women go without clothes. The
men have a cotton wrapper, and the women a bead-
ornamented square piece of cotton, about the size of
your hand, for the fig-leaf. Those far away in the
interior, use the bark of a tree for this purpose.
They are a very clean people, and wash in the river,
or creek, at least twice every day. They paint them¬
selves with the roucou, sweetly perfumed with hayawa
or accaiari. Their hair is black and lank, and never
SOUTH AMERICA.
177
curled. The women braid it up fancifully, some- THIKD
thing in the shape of Diana’s head-dress in ancient
pictures. They have very few diseases. Old age
and pulmonary complaints seem to be the chief
agents for removing them to another world. The
pulmonary complaints are generally brought on
by a severe cold, which they do not know how to
arrest in its progress, by the use of the lancet. I
never saw an idiot amongst them, nor could I per¬
ceive any that were deformed from their birth . Their
women never perish in childbed, owing, no doubt,
to their never wearing stays.
They have no public religious ceremony. They Religious
acknowledge two superior beings, — a good one, and and cere-
a bad one. They pray to the latter not to hurt them,
and they are of opinion that the former is too good
to do them an injury. I suspect, if the truth were
known, the individuals of the village never offer up
a single prayer or ejaculation. They have a kind of
priest called a Pee-ay-man, who is an enchanter.
He finds out things lost. He mutters prayers to the
evil spirit over them and their children when they
are sick. If a fever be in the village, the Pee-ay-
man goes about all night long, howling and making
dreadful noises, and begs the bad spirit to depart.
But he has very seldom to perform this part of his
duty, as fevers seldom visit the Indian hamlets.
However, when a fever does come, and his incanta¬
tions are of no avail, which I imagine is most com¬
monly the case, they abandon the place for ever,
and make a new settlement elsewhere. They consider
«/
N
178
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOU UNEY,
the owl and the goatsucker as familiars of the evil
spirit, and never destroy them.
I could find no monuments or marks of antiquity
amongst these Indians ; so that after penetrating to
the Rio Branco, from the shores of the Western
Ocean, had any body questioned me on this subject,
I should have answered, I have seen nothing amongst
these Indians which tells me that they have existed
here for a century; though, for aught I know" to
the contrary, they may have been here before the
Redemption, but their total want of civilization has
assimilated them to the forests in which they wander.
Thus, an aged tree falls and moulders into dust, and
you cannot tell what wTas its appearance, its beauties,
or its diseases amongst the neighbouring trees;
another has shot up in its place, and after nature
has had her course, it will make way for a successor
in its turn. So it is with the Indian of Guiana; he
is now laid low in the dust ; he has left no record
behind him, either on parchment, or on a stone, or
in earthenware, to say what he has done. Perhaps
the place where his buried ruins lie was unhealthy,
and the survivors have left it long ago, and gone far
avray into the wilds. All that you can say is, the
trees where I stand appear lower and smaller than
the rest, and from this I conjecture, that some Indians
may have had a settlement here formerly. Were I
by chance to meet the son of the father who moulders
here, he could tell me that his father was famous
for slaying tigers and serpents and caymen, and
rioted in the chase of the tapir and wfild boar,
SOUTH AMERICA.
179
but that he remembers little or nothing of his grand- THIRD
o o .TOURNKY
father.
They are very jealous of their liberty, and much
attached to their own mode of living. Though those
in the neighbourhood of the European settlements
have constant communication with the whites, they
have no inclination to become civilized. Some
Indians who have accompanied white men to Europe,
on returning to their own land, have thrown off
their clothes, and gone back into the forests.
In George-town, the capital of Demerara, there
is a large shed, open on all sides, built for them by
order of government. Hither the Indians come with
monkies, parrots, bows and arrows, and pegalls.
They sell these to the white men for money, and too
often purchase rum with it, to which they are won¬
derfully addicted.
Government allows them annual presents in order
to have their services, when the colony deems it
necessary to scour the forests in quest of runawa}"
negroes. Formerly these expeditions were headed
by Charles Edmonstone, Esq. now of Cardross-park,
near Dumbarton. This brave colonist never returned
from the woods without being victorious. Once in
an attack upon the rebel negroes’ camp, he led the
way, and received two balls in his body ; at the
same moment that he was wrounded, twro of his
Indians fell dead by his side ; he recovered after his
life was despaired of, but the balls could never be
extracted.
Since the above appeared in print, I have had the
N 2
180
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
account of this engagement with the negroes in the
forest, from Mr. Edmonstone’ s own mouth.
He received four slugs in his body, as will be seen
in the sequel.
The plantations of Demerara and Essequibo are
bounded by an almost interminable extent of forest.
Hither the runaway negroes repair, and form settle¬
ments, from whence they issue to annoy the colonists,
as occasion may offer.
In 1801, the runaway slaves had increased to an
alarming extent. The Governor gave orders, that
an expedition should be immediately organized, and
proceed to the woods, under the command of Charles
Edmonstone, Esq. General Hislop sent him a
corporal, a sergeant, and eleven men, and he was
joined by a part of the colonial militia, and by sixty
Indians.
With this force Mr. Edmonstone entered the forest,
and proceeded in a direction towards Mahaica.
He marched for eight days through swamps, and
over places obstructed by fallen trees and the bush-
rope ; tormented by myriads of mosquitos, and ever
in fear of treading on the poisonous snakes, which
can scarcely be distinguished from the fallen leaves.
At last he reached a wooded sand-hill, where the
Maroons had intrenched themselves in great force.
Not expecting to come so soon upon them, Mr.
Edmonstone, his faithful man Coffee, and two Indian
chiefs, found themselves considerably a-head of their
own party. As yet, they were unperceived by the
enemy, but, unfortunately, one of the Indian chiefs
SOUTH AMERICA.
181
fired a random sliot at a distant Maroon. Imme- third
diately the whole negro camp turned out, and formed - 1 —
themselves in a crescent, in front of Mr. Edmonstone.
Their chief was an uncommonly fine negro, about
six feet in height ; and his head-dress was that of an
African warrior, ornamented with a profusion of
small shells. He advanced undauntedly with his
gun in his hand, and, in insulting language, called
out to Mr. Edmonstone to come on and fight him.
Mr. Edmonstone approached him slowly, in
order to give his own men time to come up ; but
they were yet too far off for him to profit by this
manoeuvre. Coffee, who carried his master’s gun,
now stepped up behind him, and put the gun into
his hand, which Mr. Edmonstone received, without
advancing; it to his shoulder.
He was now within a few yards of the Maroon
chief, who seemed to betray some symptoms of un¬
certainty ; for instead of firing directly at Mr.
Edmonstone, he took a step sideways, and rested his
gun against a tree ; no doubt with the intention of
taking a surer aim. Mr. Edmonstone, on per¬
ceiving this, immediately cocked his gun, and fired
it off, still holding it in the position in which he had
received it from Coffee.
The whole of the contents entered the negro’s
body, and he dropped dead on his face.
The negroes, who had formed in a crescent, now
in their turn fired a volley, which brought Mr.
Edmonstone and his two Indian chiefs to the ground.
The Maroons did not stand to reload, but on Mr.
182
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Edmonstone’s party coming up, they fled precipi¬
tately into the surrounding forest.
Four slugs had entered Mr. Edmonstone’s body.
After coming to himself, on looking around, he saw
one of the fallen Indian chiefs bleeding by his side.
He accosted him by name, and said he hoped he was
not much hurt. The dying Indian had just strength
enough to answer, “ Oh no,” — and then expired.
The other chief was lying quite dead. He must
have received his mortal wound, just as he was in
the act of cocking his gun to fire on the negroes ;
for it appeared that the ball which gave him his
death wound, had carried off the first joint of his
thumb, and passed through his forehead. By this
time his wife, who had accompanied the expedition,
came up. She was a fine young woman, and had
her long black hair fancifully braided in a knot on
the top of her head, fastened with a silver ornament.
She unloosed it, and falling on her husband’s body,
covered it with her hair, bewailing his untimely end
with the most heart-rending cries.
The blood was now running out of Mr. Edmon¬
stone’s shoes. On being raised up, he ordered his
men to pursue the flying Maroons, requesting at
the same time that he might be left where he had
fallen, as he felt that he was mortally wounded.
They gently placed him on the ground, and after the
pursuit of the Maroons had ended, the corporal and
sergeant returned to their commander, and formed
their men. On his asking what this meant, the
sergeant replied, “ I had the General’s orders, on
SOUTH AMERICA.
183
setting out from town, not to leave you in the forest,
happen what might.” By slow and careful marches,
as much as the obstructions in the woods would
admit of, the party reached Plantation Alliance, on
the bank of the Demerara, and from thence it crossed
the river to Plantation Vredestein.
The news of the rencounter had been spread far and
wide by the Indians, and had already reached town.
The General, Captains Macrai and Johnstone, and
Doctor Dunkin, proceeded to Vredestein. On ex¬
amining Mr. Edmonstone’s wounds, four slugs were
found to have entered the body ; one was extracted,
the rest remained there till the year 1824, when
another was cut out by a professional gentleman of
Port Glasgow. The other two still remain in the
body ; and it is supposed that either one or both
have touched a nerve, as they cause almost continual
pain. Mr. Edmonstone has commanded fifteen
different expeditions in the forest in quest of the
Maroons. The Colonial Government has requited
his services, by freeing his property from all taxes,
and presenting him a handsome sword, and a silver
urn, bearing the following inscription :
THIRD
JOtIRNHY.
“ Presented to Charles Edmonstone, Esq. by the Governor
and Court of Policy of the Colony of Demerara, as a token of
their esteem, and the deep sense they entertain of the very great
activity and spirit, manifested by him, on various occasions, in
his successful exertions for the internal security of the Colony.
— January Is#, 1809.
I do not believe that there is a single Indian in General
rcniErks
ci-devant Dutch Guiana who can read or write, nor
184
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOUKNBY.
am I aware that any white man has reduced their
language to the rules of grammar ; some may have
made a short manuscript vocabulary of the few
necessary words, but that is all. Here and there a
white man, and some few people of colour, talk the
language well. The temper of the Indian of Guiana
is mild and gentle, and he is very fond of his children.
Some ignorant travellers and colonists call these
o
Indians a lazy race, Man in general will not be
active without an object. Now when the Indian
has caught plenty of fish, and killed game enough to
last him for a week, what need has he to range the
forest ? He has no idea of making pleasure-grounds.
Money is of no use to him, for in these wilds there
are no markets for him to frequent, nor milliners’
shops for his wife and daughters ; he has no taxes
to pay, no highways to keep up, no poor to main¬
tain, nor army nor navy to supply ; he lies in his
hammock both night and day, (for he has no chair
or bed, neither does he want them,) and in it he
forms his bow, and makes his arrows, and repairs
his fishing tackle. But as soon as he has consumed
his provisions, he then rouses himself, and, like the
lion, scours the forest in quest of food. He plunges
into the river after the deer and tapir, and swims
across it; passes through swamps and quagmires,
and never fails to obtain a sufficient supply of food.
Should the approach of night stop his career, while
he is hunting the wild boar, he stops for the night,
and continues the chase the next morning. In my
way through the wilds to the Portuguese frontier,
SOUTH AMERICA.
185
I had a proof of this : we were eight in number, six
Indians, a negro, and myself. About ten o’clock
in the morning, we observed the feet-mark of the
wild boars ; we judged by the freshness of the marks
that they had passed that way early the same morn¬
ing. As we were not gifted, like the hound, with
scent, and as we had no dog with us, we followed
their track by the eye. The Indian after game is as
sure with his eye as the dog is with his nose. We
followed the herd till three in the afternoon, then
gave up the chase for the present ; made our fires
close to a creek where there was plenty of fish, and
then arranged the hammocks. In an hour the
Indians shot more fish with their arrows than we
could consume. The night was beautifully serene
and clear, and the moon shone as bright as day.
Next morn we rose at dawn, got breakfast, packed
up, each took his burden, and then we put ourselves
on the track of the wild boars, which we had been
following the day before. We supposed that they,
too, would sleep that night in the forest, as we had
done ; and thus the delay on our part would be no
disadvantage to us. This was just the case, for
about nine o’clock their feet-mark became fresher
and fresher : wre now doubled our pace, but did not
give mouth like hounds. We pushed on in silence,
and soon came up with them ; there were above one
hundred of them ; we killed six, and the rest took
off in different directions. But to the point.
Amongst us the needy man works from light to
dark for a maintenance. Should this man chance
THIRD
JOURNEY.
186
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
to acquire a fortune, he soon changes his habits.
No longer under “ strong necessity’s supreme com¬
mand,” he contrives to get out of bed betwixt nine
and ten in the morning. His servant helps him to
dress, he walks on a soft carpet to his breakfast table,
his wife pours out his tea, and his servant hands him
his toast. After breakfast, the doctor advises a little
gentle exercise in the carriage for an hour or so.
At dinner-time he sits down to a table groaning
beneath the weight of heterogeneous luxury : there
he rests upon a chair for three or four hours, eats,
drinks, and talks (often unmeaningly) till tea is an¬
nounced. He proceeds slowly to the drawing-room,
and there spends best part of his time in sitting, till
his wife tempts him with something warm for supper.
After supper, he still remains on his chair at rest,
till he retires to rest for the night. He mounts
leisurely up stairs upon a carpet, and enters his bed¬
room : there, one would hope, that at least he mut¬
ters a prayer or two, though perhaps not on bended
knee : he then lets himself drop into a soft and
downy bed, over which has just passed the comely
Jenny’s warming-pan. Now, could the Indian in
his turn see this, he would call the white men a lazy,
indolent set.
Perhaps then, upon due reflection, you would
draw this conclusion ; that men will always be in¬
dolent, where there is no object to rouse them.
As the Indian of Guiana has no idea whatever of
communicating his intentions by writing, he has
fallen upon a plan of communication sure and simple.
SOUTH AMERICA.
187
When two or three families have determined to come third
down the river and pay you a visit, they send an —
Indian beforehand with a string of beads. You take method of
° cornmu-
one bead off every day ; and on the day that the nication.
string is beadless, they arrive at your house.
In finding their way through these pathless wilds,
the sun is to them what Ariadne’s clue was to
Theseus. When he is on the meridian, they generally
sit down, and rove onwards again as soon as he has
sufficiently declined to the west; they require no
other compass. When in chase, they break a twig
on the bushes as they pass by every three or four
hundred paces, and this often prevents them from
losing their way on their return.
You will not be long in the forests of Guiana,
before you perceive how very thinly they are in¬
habited. You may wander for a week together
without seeing a hut. The wild beasts, snakes, the
swamps, the trees, the uncurbed luxuriance of every
thing around you, conspire to inform you that man has
no habitation here — man has seldom passed this way.
Let us now return to natural history. There was
a person making shingles, with twenty or thirty
negroes, not far from Mibiri-hill. I had offered a
reward to any of them who would find a good-sized
snake in the forest, and come and let me know where
it was. Often had these negroes looked for a large
snake, and as often been disappointed.
One Sunday morning I met one of them in the
forest, and asked him which way he was going : he
said he was going towards Warratilla creek to hunt
188
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
Goes in
search of
a snake.
an armadillo : and lie had his little dog with him.
On coming back, about noon, the dog began to bark
at the root of a large tree, which had been upset by
the whirlwind, and was lying there in a gradual state
of decay. The negro said, he thought his dog was
barking at an acouri, which had probably taken
refuge under the tree, and he went up with an in¬
tention to kill it ; he there saw a snake, and hastened
back to inform me of it.
The sun had just past the meridian in a cloudless
sky ; there was scarcely a bird to be seen, for the
winged inhabitants of the forest, as though overcome
by heat, had retired to the thickest shade : all would
have been like midnight silence, were it not for the
shrill voice of the pi-pi-yo, every now and then
resounded from a distant tree. I was sitting with a
little Horace in my hand, on what had once been
the steps which formerly led up to the now moul¬
dering and dismantled building. The negro and his
little dog came down the hill in haste, and I was
soon informed that a snake had been discovered ;
but it was a young one, called the Bush-master, a
rare and poisonous snake.
I instantly rose up, and laying hold of the eight-
foot lance, which was close by me, u Well then,
Daddy, ” said I, u we’ll go and have a look at the
snake.” I was barefoot, with an old hat, and check
shirt, and trowsers on, and a pair of braces to keep
them up. The negro had his cutlass, and as we
ascended the hill, another negro, armed with a cut¬
lass, joined us, judging, from our pace, that there
SOUTH AMERICA.
189
was something to do. The little dog came along
with us, and when we had got about half a mile in
the forest, the negro stopped, and pointed to the
fallen tree : all was still and silent : I told the negroes
not to stir from the place where they were, and keep
the little dog in, and that I would go in and recon¬
noitre.
I advanced up to the place slow and cautious.
The snake was well concealed, but at last I made
him out; it was a Coulacanara, not poisonous, but
large enough to have crushed any of us to death.
On measuring him afterwards, he was something
more than fourteen feet long. This species of snake
is very rare, and much thicker, in proportion to his
length, than any other snake in the forest. A
Coulacanara of fourteen feet in length is as thick as
a common Boa of twenty- four. After skinning this
snake I could easily get my head into his mouth, as
the singular formation of the jaws admits of wonder¬
ful extension.
A Dutch friend of mine, by name Brouwer, killed
a boa, twenty-two feet long, with a pair of stag’s
horns in his mouth : he had swallowed the sta^,
but could not get the horns down : so he had to
wait in patience with that uncomfortable mouthful
till his stomach digested the body, and then the
horns would drop out. In this plight the Dutch¬
man found him as he was going in his canoe up the
river, and sent a ball through his head.
On ascertaining the size of the serpent which the
negro had just found, I retired slowly the way I
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Finds and
secures
an enor-
mousCou-
lacanara
snake.
I
190
THIRD
JOURNR1
WANDERINGS IN
came, and promised four dollars to the negro who
- had shown it to me, and one to the other who had
joined us. Aware that the day was on the decline,
and that the approach of night would be detrimental
to the dissection, a thought struck me that I could
take him alive. I imagined if I could strike him
with the lance behind the head, and pin him to the
ground, I might succeed in capturing him. When
I told this to the negroes, they begged and entreated
me to let them go for a gun, and bring more force,
as they were sure the snake would kill some of us.
I had been at the siege of Troy for nine years, and
it would not do now to carry back to Greece, u nil
decimo nisi dedecus anno.” I mean, I had been in
search of a large serpent for years, and now having
come up with one, it did not become me to turn soft.
So, taking a cutlass from one of the negroes, and
then ranging both the sable slaves behind me, I told
them to follow me, and that I would cut them down
if they offered to fly. I smiled as I said this, but
they shook their heads in silence, and seemed to
have but a bad heart of it.
When we got up to the place, the serpent had not
stirred, but I could see nothing of his head, and I
judged by the folds of his body that it must be at
the farthest side of his den. A species of woodbine
had formed a complete mantle over the branches of
the fallen tree, almost impervious to the rain, or the
rays of the sun. Probably he had resorted to this
sequestered place for a length of time, as it bore
marks of an ancient settlement.
SOUTH AMERICA.
191
I now took my knife, determining to cut away the third
woodbine, and break the twigs in the gentlest manner ^OUKN1'--
7 co Prepares
possible, till I could get a view of bis bead. One t0 sraPPle
negro stood guard close behind me with the lance ; snake,
and near him the other with a cutlass. The cutlass
which I had taken from the first negro was on the
ground close by me in case of need.
After working in dead silence for a quarter of an
hour, with one knee all the time on the ground, I
had cleared away enough to see his head. It ap¬
peared coming out betwixt the first and second coil
of his body, and was flat on the ground. This was
the very position I wished it to be in.
I rose in silence and retreated very slowly, making
a sign to the negroes to do the same. The dog was
sitting at a distance in mute observance. I could
now read in the face of the negroes, that they con¬
sidered this as a very unpleasant affair : and they
made another attempt to persuade me to let them go
for a gun. I smiled in a good-natured manner, and
made a feint to cut them down with the weapon I
had in my hand. This was all the answer I made
to their request, and they looked very uneasy.
It must be observed, we were now about twenty
' V
yards from the snake’s den. I now ranged the
negroes behind me, and told him who stood next to
me, to lay hold of the lance the moment I struck
the snake, and that the other must attend my move¬
ments. It now only remained to take their cutlasses
from them, for I was sure, if I did not disarm them,
they would be tempted to strike the snake in time of
192
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
danger, and thus for ever spoil his skin. On taking
their cutlasses from them, if I might judge from
their physiognomy, they seemed to consider it as a
most intolerable act of tyranny in me. Probably
nothing kept them from bolting, but the consolation
that I was to be betwixt them and the snake. Indeed,
my own heart, in spite of all I could do, beat quicker
than usual; and I felt those sensations which one
has on board a merchant vessel in war time, when
the captain orders all hands on deck to prepare for
action, while a strange vessel is coming down upon
us under suspicious colours.
We wrent slowly on in silence, without moving
our arms or heads, in order to prevent all alarm as
much as possible, lest the snake should glide off, or
attack us in self-defence. I carried the lance per¬
pendicularly before me, with the point about a foot
from the ground. The snake had not moved ; and
on getting up to him, I struck him with the lance
on the near side, just behind the neck, and pinned
him to the ground. That moment, the negro next
to me seized the lance, and held it firm in its place,
while I dashed head foremost into the den to grapple
with the snake, and to get hold of his tail before he
could do any mischief.
On pinning him to the ground with the lance, he
gave a tremendous loud hiss, and the little dog ran
awray, howling as he went. We had a sharp fray
in the den, the rotten sticks flying on all sides, and
each party struggling for superiority. I called out
to the second negro to throw himself upon me, as I
SOUTH AMERICA.
193
found I was not heavy enough. He did so, and third
the additional weight was of great service. I had °URNE
now got firm hold of his tail ; and after a violent
struggle or two, he gave in, finding himself over¬
powered. This was the moment to secure him.
So, while the first negro continued to hold the lance
firm to the ground, and the other was helping me,
I contrived to unloose my braces, and with them
tied up the snake’s mouth.
The snake now finding himself in an unpleasant
situation, tried to better himself, and set resolutely
to work, but we overpowered him. We contrived
to make him twist himself round the shaft of the
lance, and then prepared to convey him out of the
forest. I stood at his head, and held it firm under
my arm, one negro supported the belly, and the
other the tail. In this order we began to move
slowly towards home, and reached it after resting
ten times ; for the snake was too heavy for us to
support him without stopping to recruit our strength.
As we proceeded onwards with him, he fought hard
for freedom, but it was all in vain. The day was
now too far spent to think of dissecting him. Had
I killed him, a partial putrefaction would have taken
place before morning. I had brought with me up
into the forest a strong bag, large enough to contain
any animal that I should want to dissect. I con¬
sidered this the best mode of keeping live wild
animals when I was pressed for daylight; for the
bag yielding in every direction to their efforts, they
would have nothing solid or fixed to wTork on, and
o
194
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY,
Kills and
dissects
the
Snake.
thus would be prevented from making a hole through
it. I say fixed, for after the mouth of the bag was
closed, the bag itself was not fastened or tied to any
thing, but moved about wherever the animal inside
caused it to roll. After securing afresh the mouth of
the coulacanara, so that he could not open it, he was
forced into this bag, and left to his fate till morning.
I cannot say he allowed me to have a quiet night.
My hammock was in the loft just above him, and
the floor betwixt us, half gone to decay, so that in
parts of it no boards intervened betwixt his lodging-
room and mine. He was very restless and fretful ;
and had Medusa been my wife, there could not have
been more continued and disagreeable hissing in the
bed-chamber that night. At day-break, I sent to
borrow ten of the negroes who were cutting wood at
a distance ; I could have done with half that number,
but judged it most prudent to have a good force, in
case he should try to escape from the house when we
opened the bag. However, nothing serious occurred.
We untied the mouth of the bag, kept him down
by main force, and then I cut his throat. He bled
like an ox. By six o’clock the same evening, he
was completely dissected. On examining his teeth,
I observed that they were all bent like tenter¬
hooks, pointing down his throat, and not so large or
strong as I expected to have found them ; but they
are exactly suited to what they are intended by nature
to perform. The snake does not masticate his food,
and thus the only service his teeth have to perform is
to seize his prey, and hold it till he swallows it whole.
SOUTH AMERICA.
195
In general, the skins of snakes are sent to museums third
without the head : for when the Indians and Negroes - —
kill a snake, they seldom fail to cut off the head,
and then they run no risk from its teeth. When
the skin is stuffed in the museum, a wooden head is
substituted, armed with teeth which are large enough
to suit a tiger's jaw ; and this tends to mislead the
spectator, and give him erroneous ideas.
During this fray with the serpent, the old negro,
Daddy Quashi, was in George-town procuring pro¬
visions, and just returned in time to help to take the
skin off. He had spent best part of his life in the
forest with his old master, Mr. Edmonstone, and
amused me much in recounting their many adven¬
tures amongst the wild beasts. The Daddy had a
particular horror of snakes, and frankly declared he
could never have faced the one in question.
The week following, his courage was put to the Attacks
test, and he made good his words. It was a curious snake,
conflict, and took place near the spot where I had
captured the large snake. In the morning I had
been following a new species of paroquet, and the
day being rainy, I had taken an umbrella to keep the
gun dry, and had left it under a tree ; in the after¬
noon I took Daddy Quashi with me to look for it.
Whilst he was searching about, curiosity took me
towards the place of the late scene of action. There
was a path where timber had formerly been dragged
along. Here I observed a young coulacanara, ten
feet long, slowly moving onwards; I saw he was
not thick enough to break my arm, in case he got
196
WANDERINGS IN
THIHD
JOURNEY-
twisted round it. There was not a moment to be
lost. I laid hold of his tail with the left hand, one
knee being; on the ground ; with the rig;ht I took off
my hat, and held it as you would hold a shield for
defence.
The snake instantly turned, and came on at me,
with his head about a yard from the ground, as if to
ask me, what business I had to take liberties with
his tail. I let him come, hissing and open-mouthed,
within two feet of my face, and then, with all the
force I was master of, I drove my fist, shielded by
my hat, full in his jaws. He was stunned and con¬
founded by the blow, and ere he could recover him¬
self, I had seized his throat with both hands, in such
a position that he could not bite me ; I then allowed
him to coil himself round my body, and marched off
with him as my lawful prize. He pressed me hard,
but not alarmingly so.
In the mean time, Daddy Quashi having found
the umbrella, and having heard the noise which the
fray occasioned, was coming cautiously up. As
soon as he saw me, and in what company I was, he
turned about and ran off home, I after him, and
shouting to increase his fear. On scolding him for
his cowardice, the old rogue begged that I would
forgive him, for that the sight of the snake had
positively turned him sick at stomach.
When I had done with the carcass of the larg;e
snake, it was conveyed into the forest, as I expected
that it would attract the king of the vultures, as
soon as time should have rendered it sufficiently
SOUTH AMERICA.
197
savoury. In a few clays it sent forth that odour THIRD
which a carcass should send forth, and about twenty - 1
of the common vultures came and perched on the
neighbouring trees ; the king of the vultures came
too ; and I observed that none of the common ones
seemed inclined to begin breakfast till his majesty
had finished. When he had consumed as much
snake as nature informed him would do him good,
he retired to the top of a high mora-tree, and then
all the common vultures fell too, and made a hearty
meal.
The head and neck of the king; of the vultures are The King
bare of feathers ; but the beautiful appearance they Vultures,
exhibit, fades in death. The throat and the back of
the neck are of a fine lemon colour ; both sides of
the neck, from the ears downwards, of a rich scarlet ;
behind the corrugated part, there is a white spot.
The crown of the head is scarlet ; betwixt the lower
mandible and the eye, and close by the ear, there is
a part which has a fine silvery blue appearance ;
the corrugated part is of a dirty light brown ; behind
it, and just above the white spot, a portion of the
skin is blue, and the rest scarlet ; the skin which
juts out behind the neck, and appears like an oblong
caruncle, is blue in part, and part orange.
The bill is orange and black, the caruncles on his its bin.
forehead orange, and the cere orange ; the orbits
scarlet, and the irides white. Below the bare part
of the neck there is a cinereous ruff. The bag of
the stomach, which is only seen when distended with
food, is of a most delicate white, intersected with
198
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
blue veins, which appear on it just like the blue veins
- on the arm of a fair-complexioned person. The tail
and long wing-feathers are black, the belly white,
and the rest of the body a fine satin colour.
I cannot be persuaded that the vultures ever feed
upon live animals, not even upon lizards, rats, mice,
or frogs ; I have watched them for hours together,
but never could see them touch any living animals,
though innumerable lizards, frogs, and small birds
swarmed all around them. I have killed lizards and
frogs, and put them in a proper place for observation ;
as soon as they began to stink, the aura vulture in¬
variably came and took them off. I have frequently
observed, that the day after the planter had burnt the
trash in a cane-field, the aura vulture was sure to be
there, feeding on the snakes, lizards, and frogs which
had suffered in the conflagation. I often saw a large
bird (very much like the common gregarious vulture
at a distance) catch and devour lizards ; after shoot¬
ing one, it turned out to be not a vulture, but a
hawk, with a tail squarer and shorter than hawks
have in general. The vultures, like the goatsucker
and woodpecker, seem to be in disgrace with man.
They are generally termed a voracious, stinking,
cruel, and ignoble tribe. Under these impressions,
the fowler discharges his gun at them, and probably
thinks he has done well in ridding; the earth of such
vermin.
Some governments impose a fine on him who kills
a vulture. This is a salutary law, and it were to be
wished that other governments would follow so good
SOUTH AMERICA.
199
an example. I would fain here say a word or two
in favour of this valuable scavenger.
Kind Providence has conferred a blessing on hot
countries in giving them the vulture ; he has ordered
it to consume that which, if left to dissolve in putre¬
faction, would infect the air, and produce a pesti¬
lence. When full of food, the vulture certainly
appears an indolent bird 5 he will stand for hours
together on the branch of a tree, or on the top of a
house, with his wings drooping, and after rain, with
them spread and elevated to catch the rays of the sun.
It has been remarked by naturalists, that the flight
of this bird is laborious. I have paid attention to
the vulture in Andalusia, and to those in Guiana,
Brazil, and the West Indies, and conclude that they
are birds of long, even, and lofty flight. Indeed,
whoever has observed the aura vulture, will be
satisfied that his flight is wonderfully majestic, and
of lono; continuance.
o
THIRD
JOURNEY.
This bird is above five feet from wing to wing
extended. You will see it soaring aloft in the aerial
expanse on pinions which never flutter, and which
at the same time carry him through the fields of
ether with a rapidity equal to that of the golden
eagle. In Paramaribo the laws protect the vulture,
and the Spaniards of Angustura never think of mo¬
lesting him. In 1808, I saw the vultures in that city
as tame as domestic fowls ; a person who had never
seen a vulture would have taken them for turkevs.
They were very useful to the Spaniards ; had it not
been for them, the refuse of the slaughter-houses in
Angustura would have caused an intolerable nuisance.
200
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Other
species of
Vulture.
Sails in a
canoe
down to
the Esse-
quibo.
The common black, short, square-tailed vulture,
is gregarious ; but the aura vulture is not so : for,
though you may see fifteen or twenty of them feeding
on the dead vermin in a cane-field, after the trash
has been set fire to, still, if you have paid attention
to their arrival, you will have observed that they
came singly and retired singly ; and thus their being
altogether in the same field was merely accidental,
and caused by each one smelling the effluvia as lie
was soaring through the sky to look out for food.
I have watched twenty come into a cane-field ; they
arrived one by one, and from different parts of the
heavens. Hence we may conclude, that though the
other species of vulture are gregarious, the aura
vulture is not.
If you dissect a vulture that has just been feeding
on carrion, you must expect that your olfactory
nerves will be somewhat offended with the rank
effluvia from his craw ; just as they would be were
you to dissect a citizen after the Lord Mayor’s
dinner. If, on the contrary, the vulture be empty
at the time you commence the operation, there will
be no offensive smell, but a strong scent of musk.
I had long wished to examine the native haunts of
the cayman; but as the river Demerara did not
afford a specimen of the large kind, I was obliged
to go to the river Essequibo to look for one.
I got the canoe ready, and went down in it to
George-town ; where, having put in the necessary
articles for the expedition, not forgetting a couple of
large sliark-hooks, with chains attached to them, and
a coil of strong new rope, I hoisted a little sail,
SOUTH AMERICA.
201
which I had got made on purpose, and at six o’clock
in the morning shaped our course for the river
Essequibo. I had put a pair of shoes on to prevent
the tar at the bottom of the canoe from sticking to my
feet. The sun was flaming hot, and from eleven
o’clock till two beat perpendicularly upon the top of
my feet, betwixt the shoes and the trowsers. Not
feeling it disagreeable, or being in the least awTare of
painful consequences, as I had been barefoot for
months, I neglected to put on a pair of short stock¬
ings which I had writh me. I did not reflect, that
sitting still in one place, writh your feet exposed to
the sun, wras very different from being exposed to
the sun while in motion.
We went ashore in the Essequibo, about three
o’clock in the afternoon, to choose a place for the
night’s residence, to collect fire-wood, and to set the
fish-hooks. It was then that I first began to find mv
legs very painful : they soon became much inflamed
and red and blistered ; and it required considerable
caution not to burst the blisters, otherwise sores
would have ensued. I immediately got into the
hammock, and there passed a painful and sleepless
night, and for two days after, I was disabled from
walking.
About midnight, as I was lying awake, and in
great pain, I heard the Indian say, “ Massa, massa,
you no hear tiger?” I listened attentively, and
heard the softly sounding tread of his feet as he
approached us. The moon had gone down ; but
every now and then we could get a glance of him by
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Suffers
much
pain in
the feet
from
excessive
heat.
Visited
in the
night by
a Jaguar
Tiger.
202
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Reaches
the falls
of the
Esse-
quibo.
the light of our fire : he was the jaguar, for I could
see the spots on his body. Had I wished to hare
fired at him, I was not able to take a sure aim, for
I was in such pain that I could not turn myself in
my hammock. The Indian would have fired, but
I would not allow him to do so, as I wanted to see
a little more of our new visitor ; for it is not every
day or night that the traveller is favoured with an
undisturbed sight of the jaguar in his own forests.
Whenever the fire got low, the jaguar came a
little nearer, and when the Indian renewed it, he
retired abruptly ; sometimes he would come within
twenty yards, and then we had a view of him, sitting
on his hind legs like a dog ; sometimes he moved
slowly to and fro, and at other times we could hear
him mend his pace, as if impatient. At last the
Indian, not relishing the idea of having such com¬
pany in tire neighbourhood, could contain himself
no longer, and set up a most tremendous yell. The
jaguar bounded off like a race-horse, and returned
no more; it appeared by the print of his feet the
next morning, that he was a full-grown jaguar.
In two days after this we got to the first falls in
the Essequibo. There was a superb barrier of rocks
quite across the river. In the rainy season these
rocks are for the most part under water; blit it
being now dry weather, we had a fine view of them,
while the water from the river above them rushed
through the different openings in majestic grandeur.
Here, on a little hill, jutting out into the river, stands
the house of Mrs. Peterson, the last house of people
SOUTH AMERICA.
203
of colour up this river ; I hired a negro from her,
and a coloured man, who pretended that they knew
the haunts of the cayman, and understood every thing
about taking him. We were a day in passing these
falls and rapids, celebrated for the pacou, the richest
and most delicious fish in Guiana. The coloured
man was now in his element ; he stood in the head
of the canoe, and with his bow and arrow shot the
pacou as they were -swimming in the stream. The
arrow had scarcely left the bow before he had plunged
headlong into the river, and seized the fish as it was
struggling with it. He dived and swam like an
otter, and rarely missed the fish he aimed at.
Did my pen, gentle reader, possess descriptive
powers, I would here give thee an idea of the en¬
chanting scenery of the Essequibo ; but that not
being the case, thou must be contented with a mode¬
rate and well-intended attempt.
Nothing could be more lovely than the appear¬
ance of the forest on each side of this noble river.
Hills rose on hills in fine gradation, all covered with
trees of gigantic height and size. Here their leaves
were of a lively purple, and there of the deepest
green. Sometimes the Caracara extended its scarlet
blossoms from branch to branch, and gave the tree
the appearance as though it had been hung with
garlands.
This delightful scenery of the Essequibo made the
soul overflow with joy, and caused you to rove in
fancy through fairy-land ; till, on turning an angle
of the river, you were recalled to more sober reflec-
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Scenery.
204
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
The Cam-
panero.
tions on seeing the once grand and towering mora,
now dead and ragged in its topmost branches, while
its aged trunk, undermined by the rushing torrent,
hung as though in sorrow over the river, which, ere
long, would receive it, and sweep it away for ever.
During the day, the trade-wind blew a gentle and
refreshing breeze, which died away as the night set
in, and then the river was as smooth as glass.
The moon was within three days of being full, so
that we did not regret the loss of the sun, which set
in all its splendour. Scarce had he sunk behind
the western hills, when the goatsuckers sent forth
their soft and plaintive cries ; some often repeating,
“ Who are you — who, who, who are you ? ” and
others, u Willy, Willy, Willy come go.”
The Indian and Daddy Quashi often shook their
head at this, and said they were bringing talk from
Yabahou, wrho is the evil spirit of the Essequibo.
It was delightful to sit on the branch of a fallen tree,
near the water’s edge, and listen to these harmless
birds as they repeated their evening song ; and watch
the owls and vampires as they every now and then
passed up and down the river.
The next day, about noon, as we were proceeding
onwards, we heard the campanero tolling in the
depth of the forest. Though I should not then have
stopped to dissect even a rare bird, having a greater
object in view, still I could not resist the opportunity
offered of acquiring the campanero. The place
where he was tolling was low and swampy, and my
legs not having quite recovered from the effects of
SOUTH AMERICA.
205
the sun, I sent the Indian to shoot the campanero. third
He got up to the tree, which he described as very - —
high, with a naked top, and situated in a swamp.
He fired at the bird, but either missed it, or did not
wound it sufficiently to bring it down. This was
the only opportunity I had of getting a campanero
during this expedition. We had never heard one
toll before this morning, and never heard one after.
About an hour before sunset, we reached the place
which the two men who had joined us at the falls
pointed out as a proper one to find a cayman.
There was a large creek close by, and a sand-bank
gently sloping to the water. Just within the forest
on this bank, we cleared a place of brushwood, sus¬
pended the hammocks from the trees, and then
picked up enough of decayed wood for fuel.
The Indian found a large land-tortoise, and this,
with plenty of fresh fish which we had in the canoe,
afforded a supper not to be despised.
The tigers had kept up a continual roaring every Roaring
night since we had entered the Essequibo. The ?fge?se.
sound wras awffully fine. Sometimes it was in the
immediate neighbourhood ; at other times it was
far off, and echoed amongst the hills like distant
thunder.
It may, perhaps, not be amiss to observe here,
that when the word Tiger is used, it does not mean
the Bengal tiger. It means the Jaguar, whose skin
is beautifully spotted, and not striped like that of the
tiger in the East. It is, in fact, the tiger of the new
world, and receiving the name of tiger from the dis-
206
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
Noise of
the Cay-
men.
coverers of South America, it lias kept it ever since.
It is a cruel, strong, and dangerous beast, but not
so courageous as the Bengal tiger.
We now baited a shark-hook with a large fish,
and put it upon a board about a yard long, and one
foot broad, which we had brought on purpose. This
board was carried out in the canoe, about forty yards
into the river. By means of a string, long enough
to reach the bottom of the river, and at the end of
which string was fastened a stone, the board was
kept, as it were, at anchor. One end of the new rope
I had bought in town, was reeved through the chain
of the shark-hook, and the other end fastened to a
tree on the sand-bank.
It was now an hour after sunset. The sky was
cloudless, and the moon shone beautifully bright.
There was not a breath of wind in the heavens, and
the river seemed like a large plain of quicksilver.
Every now and then a huge fish would strike and
plunge in the water ; then the owls and goatsuckers
would continue their lamentations, and the sound of
these was lost in the prowling tiger’s gi4owl. Then
all was still again and silent as midnight.
The caymen were now upon the stir, and at inter¬
vals their noise could be distinguished amid that of
the jaguar, the owls, the goatsuckers, and frogs. It
was a singular and awful sound. It was like a sup¬
pressed sigh, bursting forth all of a sudden, and so
loud that you might hear it above a mile off. First
one emitted this horrible noise, and then another
answered him 5 and on looking at the countenances
SOUTH AMERICA.
207
of the people round me, I could plainly see that they third
1 - 1 • 1 JOURNEY.
expected to have a cayman that night. -
We were at supper, when the Indian, who seemed
to have had one eye on the turtle-pot, and the other
on the bait in the river, said he saw the cayman
coming.
Upon looking towards the place, there appeared
something on the water like a black log of wood.
It was so unlike any thing alive, that I doubted if
it were a cayman ; but the Indian smiled, and said,
he was sure it was one, for he remembered seeing a
cayman, some years ago, when he was in the Esse-
quibo.
At last it gradually approached the bait, and the
board began to move. The moon shone so bright,
that we could distinctly see him open his huge jaws,
and take in the bait. We pulled the rope. He im¬
mediately let drop the bait ; and then we saw his
black head retreating from the board, to the dis¬
tance of a few yards ; and there it remained quite
motionless.
He did not seem inclined to advance again ; and
so we finished our supper. In about an hour’s time
he again put himself in motion, and took hold of
the bait. But, probably, suspecting that he had to
deal with knaves and cheats, he held it in his mouth,
but did not swallow it. We pulled the rope again,
but with no better success than the first time.
He retreated as usual, and came back again in
about an hour. We paid him every attention till
three o’clock in the morning j when, worn out with
208
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Birds.
Turtle's
nests.
disappointment, we went to the hammocks, turned
in, and fell asleep.
When day broke, we found that he had contrived
to get the bait from the hook, though we had tied it
on with string. We had now no more hopes of
taking a cayman, till the return of night. The Indian
took off into the woods, and brought back a noble
supply of game. The rest of us went into the canoe,
and proceeded up the river to shoot fish. We got
even more than we could use.
As we approached the shallows, we could see the
large sting- rays moving at the bottom. The coloured
man never failed to hit them with his arrow. The
weather was delightful. There was scarcely a cloud
to intercept the sun’s rays.
I saw several scarlet aras, ariihingas, and ducks,
but could not get a shot at them. The parrots crossed
the river in innumerable quantities, always flying in
pairs. Here, too, I saw the Sun-bird, called Tirana
by the Spaniards in the Oroonoque, and shot one of
them. The black and white scarlet-headed finch
was very common here. I could never see this bird
in the Demerara, nor hear of its being there.
We at last came to a large sand-bank, probably
two miles in circumference. As we approached it
we could see two or three hundred fresh-water turtle
on the edge of the bank. Ere we could get near
enough to let fly an arrow at them, they had all
sunk into the river and appeared no more.
We went on the sand-bank to look for their nests,
as this was the breeding season. The coloured man
4
SOUTH AMERICA. ‘209
showed us how to find them. Wherever a portion third
of the sand seemed smoother than the rest, there - *
was sure to be a turtle’s nest. On digging down
with our hands, about nine inches deep, w^e found
from twenty to thirty white eggs ; in less than an
hour we got above two hundred. Those which had
a little black spot or two on the shell we ate the
same day, as it was a sign that they were not fresh,
and of course would not keep : those which had no
speck were put into dry sand, and were good some
weeks after.
At midnight, two of our people went to this sand¬
bank, while the rest staid to watch the cayman. The
turtle had advanced on to the sand to lay their eggs,
and the men got betwixt them and the water ; they
brought off half a dozen very fine and well-fed
turtle. The egg-shell of the fresh- water turtle is
not hard like that of the land tortoise, but appears
like white parchment, and gives way to the pressure
of the fingers; but it is very tough, and does not
break. On this sand-bank, close to the forest, we
found several guana’s nests ; but they had never
more than fourteen eggs a-piece. Thus passed the
day in exercise and knowledge, till the sun’s declining
orb reminded us it was time to return to the place
from whence we had set out.
The second night’s attempt upon the cayman was
a repetition of the first, quite unsuccessful. We went
a fishing the day after, had excellent sport, and re¬
turned to experience a third night’s disappointment.
On the fourth evening, about four o’clock, we began
p
210
WANDERINGS IN
third to erect a stage amongst the trees, close to the water’s
jour>ey. e(j From this we intended to shoot an arrow
o
into the cayman : at the end of this arrow was to be
attached a string, which would be tied to the rope,
and as soon as the cayman was struck, we were to
have the canoe ready, and pursue him in the river.
While we were busy in preparing the stage, a tiger
began to roar. We judged by the sound that he was -
not above a quarter of a mile from us, and that he
was close to the side of the river. Unfortunately,
the Indian said it was not a jaguar that was roaring,
Couguar. but a couguar. The couguar is of a pale, brownish
red colour, and not as large as the jaguar. As
there was nothing particular in this animal, I thought
it better to attend to the apparatus for catching the
cayman than to go in quest of the couguar. The
people, however, went in the canoe to the place
where the couguar was roaring. On arriving near
the spot, they saw it was not a couguar, but an im¬
mense jaguar, standing on the trunk of an aged
mora-tree, which bended over the river; he growled,
and showed his teeth as they approached ; the co¬
loured man fired at him with a ball, but probably
missed him, and the tiger instantly descended, and
took off into the woods. I went to the place before
dark, and we searched the forest for about half a
mile in the direction he had fled : but we could
see no traces of him, or any marks of blood, so I
concluded that fear had prevented the man from
taking steady aim.
We spent best part of the fourth night in trying
SOUTH AMERICA.
211
for the cayman, but all to no purpose. I was now
convinced that something was materially wrong.
We ought to have been successful, considering our
vigilance and attention, and that we had repeatedly
seen the cayman. It was useless to tarry here any
longer ; moreover, the coloured man began to take
airs, and fancied that I could not do without him.
I never admit of this in any expedition where I am
commander $ and so I convinced the man, to his
sorrow, that I could do without him 5 for I paid
him what I had agreed to give him, which amounted
to eight dollars, and ordered him back in his own
curial to Mrs. Peterson’s, on the hill at the first falls.
I then asked the negro if there were any Indian
settlements in the neighbourhood ; he said he knew
of one, a day and a half off. We went in quest of
it, and about one o’clock the next day, the negro
showed us the creek where it was.
The entrance was so concealed by thick bushes
that a stranger would have passed it without knowing
it to be a creek. In going up it we found it dark,
winding, and intricate beyond any creek that I had
ever seen before. When Orpheus came back with
his young wife from Styx, his path must have been
similar to this, for Ovid says it was
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Dis¬
charges
the man
of colour.
Reaches
a creek;
and
Indian
settle¬
ment.
“ Arduus, ohliquus, caligine densus opaca; ”
and this creek was exactly so.
When we had got about two-thirds up it, we met
the Indians going a fishing. I saw, by the way
their things were packed in the curial, that they did
not intend to return for some davs. However, on
212
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Indian
dinner.
telling them what we wanted, and by promising
handsome presents of powder, shot, and hooks, they
dropped their expedition, and invited us up to the
settlement they had just left, and where we laid in a
provision of cassava.
They gave us for dinner boiled ant-bear and red
monkey ; two dishes unknown even at Beauvilliers
in Paris, or at a London city feast. The monkey
was very good indeed, but the ant-bear had been
kept beyond its time ; it stunk as our venison does
in England ; and so, after tasting it, I preferred
dining entirely on monkey. After resting here, we
went back to the river. The Indians, three in
number, accompanied us in their own curial, and,
on entering the river, pointed to a place a little way
above, well calculated to harbour a cayman. The
water was deep and still, and flanked by an im¬
mense sand-bank; there was also a little shallow
creek close by.
On this sand-bank, near the forest, the people
made a shelter for the night. My own was already
made ; for I always take with me a painted sheet,
about twelve feet by ten. This, thrown over a pole,
supported betwixt two trees, makes you a capital
roof with very little trouble.
We showed one of the Indians the shark-hook.
He shook his head, and laughed at it, and said it
would not do. When he was a boy, he had seen his
father catch the cay men, and on the morrow he would
make something that would answer.
In the mean time, we set the shark-hook, but it
SOUTH AMERICA.
213
availed us naught; a cayman came and took it, but third
° 7 ^ TftUHNFY
would not swallow it.
Seeing it was useless to attend the shark-hook any
longer, we left it for the night, and returned to our
hammocks.
Ere I fell asleep, a reflection or two broke in upon
me. I considered, that as far as the judgment of
civilized man went, every thing had been procured
and done to ensure success. We had hooks, and
lines, and baits, and patience ; we had spent nights
in watching, had seen the cayman come and take
the bait, and after our expectations had been wound
up to the highest pitch, all ended in disappointment.
Probably this poor wild man of the woods would
succeed by means of a very simple process; and
thus prove to his more civilized brother, that not¬
withstanding books and schools, there is a vast deal
of knowledge to be picked up at every step, which¬
ever way we turn ourselves.
In the morning, as usual, we found the bait gone
from the shark-hook. The Indians went into the
forest to hunt, and we took the canoe to shoot fish
and get another supply of turtle’s eggs, which we
found in great abundance on this large sand-bank.
We went to the little shallow creek, and shot
some young caymen, about two feet long. It was
astonishing to see what spite and rage these little
things showed when the arrows struck them ; they
turned round and bit it, and snapped at us when
we went into the water to take them out. Daddv
«/
Quashi boiled one of them for his dinner, and found
214
WANDERINGS IN
third it very sweet and tender. I do not see why it should
JOURNEY. if* 1
- not be as good as Irog or veal.
The day was now declining apace, and the Indian
had made his instrument to take the cayman. It
was very simple. There were four pieces of tough
hard wood, a foot long, and about as thick as your
little finger, and barbed at both ends ; they were tied
round the end of the rope, in such a manner, that if
you conceive the rope to be an arrow, these four
sticks would form the arrow’s head : so that one end
of the four united sticks answered to the point of the
arrow-head, while the other end of the sticks ex¬
panded at equal distances round the rope, thus—
Now it is evident, that if the cayman swallowed this,
(the other end of the rope, which was thirty yards
long, being fastened to a tree,) the more he pulled,
the faster the barbs would stick into his stomach.
This wooden hook, if you may so call it, was well-
baited with the flesh of the acouri, and the entrails
were twisted round the rope for about a foot above it.
Nearly a mile from where we had our hammocks,
the sand-bank was steep and abrupt, and the river
very still and deep ; there the Indian pricked a stick
into the sand. It was two feet long, and on its
extremity was fixed the machine ; it hung suspended
about a foot from the water, and the end of the
SOUTH AMERICA.
215
rope was made fast to a stake driven wel] into the THIRD
JOURNEY
sand
The Indian then took the empty shell of a land
tortoise, and gave it some heavy blows with an axe.
I asked, why he did that. ITe said, it was to let the
cayman hear that something was going on. In fact,
the Indian meant it as the cayman’s dinner bell.
Having done this, we went back to the hammocks,
not intending to visit it again till morning. During
the night, the jaguars roared and grumbled in the
forest, as though the world was going wrong with
them, and at intervals we could hear the distant
cayman. The roaring of the jaguars was awful;
but it was music to the dismal noise of these hideous
and malicious reptiles.
About half-past five in the morning, the Indian Succeed
stole off silently to take a look at the bait. On mg a
arriving at the place he set up a tremendous shout. c,l}liian
We all jumped out of our hammocks, and ran to
him. The Indians got there before me, for they had
no clothes to put on, and I lost two minutes in look¬
ing for my trowsers and in slipping into them.
We found a cayman, ten feet and a half long, fast
•216
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
•TOURNEY
to the end of the rope. Nothing now remained to
do, but to get him out of the water without injuring
his scales, u hoc opus, hie labor.” We mustered
strong : there were three Indians from the creek,
there was my own Indian Yan, Daddy Quashi, the
negro from Mrs. Peterson’s, James, Mr. R. Ed-
monstone’s man, whom I was instructing to pre¬
serve birds, and, lastly, myself.
I informed the Indians that it was my intention
to draw him quietly out of the water, and then se¬
cure him. They looked and stared at each other,
and said I might do it myself ; but they would have
no hand in it ; the cayman would worry some of us.
On saying this, u consedere duces,” they squatted
on their hams with the most perfect indifference.
The Indians of these wilds have never been sub¬
ject to the least restraint ; and I knew enough of
them to be aware, that if I tried to force them against
their will, they would take off, and leave me and my
presents unheeded, and never return.
Daddy Quashi was for applying to our guns, as
usual, considering them our best and safest friends.
I immediately offered to knock him down for his
cowardice, and he shrunk back, begging that I
would be cautious, and not get myself worried ; and
apologizing for his own want of resolution. My
Indian was now in conversation with the others, and
they asked me if I would allow them to shoot a dozen
arrows into him, and thus disable him. This would
have ruined all. I had come above three hundred
miles on purpose to get a cayman uninjured, and not
SOUTH AMERICA.
217
to carry back a mutilated specimen. I rejected their third
proposition with firmness, and darted a disdainful -
eye upon the Indians.
Daddy Quashi was again beginning to remon¬
strate, and I chased him on the sand-bank for a
quarter of a mile. He told me afterwards, he
thought he should have dropped down dead with
fright, for he wras firmly persuaded, if I had caught
him, I should have bundled him into the cayman’s
jaws. Here then we stood, in silence, like a calm
before a thunder-storm. “ Hoc res summa loco.
Scinditur in contraria vulgus.” They wanted to kill
him, and I wanted to take him alive.
I now walked up and down the sand, revolving
a dozen projects in my head. The canoe was at a
considerable distance, and I ordered the people to
bring it round to the place where we were. The
mast was eight feet long, and not much thicker than
my wrist. I took it out of the canoe, and wrapped
the sail round the end of it. Now it appeared clear
to me, that if I w^ent down upon one knee, and held
the mast in the same position as the soldier holds
his bayonet when rushing to the charge, I could
force it down the cayman’s throat, should he come
open-mouthed at me. When this was told to the
Indians, they brightened up, and said they would
help me to pull him out of the river.
“ Brave squad ! ” said I to myself, u c Audax Prepare
omnia perpeti,’ now that you have got me betwixt the cay-
yourselves and danger.” I then mustered all hands alive,
for the last time before the battle. We were, four
South American savages, two negroes from Africa,
218
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
a creole from Trinidad, and myself a white man
from Yorkshire. In fact, a little tower of Babel
group, in dress, no dress, address, and language.
Daddy Quashi hung in the rear ; I showed him
a large Spanish knife, which I always carried in the
waistband of my trousers : it spoke volumes to him,
and he shrugged up his shoulders in absolute des¬
pair. The sun was just peeping over the high
forests on the eastern hills, as if coming to look on,
and bid us act with becoming fortitude. I placed
all the people at the end of the rope, and ordered
them to pull till the cayman appeared on the surface
of the water ; and then, should he plunge, to slacken
the rope and let him go again into the deep.
I now took the mast of the canoe in my hand (the
sail being tied round the end of the mast) and sunk
down upon one knee, about four yards from the
water’s edge, determining to thrust it down his
throat, in case he gave me an opportunity. I cer¬
tainly felt somewhat uncomfortable in this situation,
and I thought of Cerberus on the other side of the
Styx ferry. The people pulled the cayman to the
surface ; he plunged furiously as soon as he arrived
in these upper regions, and immediately went below
again on their slackening the rope. I saw enough
not to fall in love at first sight. I now told them
we would run all risks, and have him on land im¬
mediately. They pulled again, and out he came,
— u monstrum horrendum, informe.” This was an
interesting moment. I kept my position firmly,
with my eye fixed steadfast on him.
By the time the cayman was within two yards of
SOUTH AMERICA.
219
me, I saw he was in a state of fear and perturbation ;
I instantly dropped the mast, sprung up, and jumped
on his back, turning half round as I vaulted, so that
I gained my seat with my face in a right position.
I immediately seized his fore-legs, and, by main
force, twisted them on his back; thus they served
me for a bridle.
He now seemed to have recovered from his sur¬
prise, and probably fancying himself in hostile com¬
pany, he begun to plunge furiously, and lashed the
sand with his long and powerful tail. I was out of
reach of the strokes of it, by being near his head.
He continued to plunge and strike, and made my
seat very uncomfortable. It must have been a fine
sight for an unoccupied spectator.
The people roared out in triumph, and were so
vociferous, that it was some time before they heard
me tell them to pull me and my beast of burthen
farther in land. I was apprehensive the rope might
break, and then there would have been every chance
of going down to the regions under water with the
cayman. That would have been more perilous than
Arion’s marine morning ride : —
“ Delphini insidens vada caerula sulcat Arion.”
The people now dragged us about forty yards on
the sand : it was the first and last time I was ever
on a cayman’s back. Should it be asked, how I
managed to keep my seat, I would answer, — I
hunted some years with Lord Harlington’sfoxhounds.
After repeated attempts to regain his liberty, the
THIRD
OURNEV.
220
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNKY.
cayman gave in, and became tranquil through ex¬
haustion. I now managed to tie up his jaws, and
firmly secured his fore-feet in the position I had
held them. We had now another severe struggle
for superiority, but he was soon overcome, and again
remained quiet. While some of the people were
pressing upon his head and shoulders, I threw my¬
self on his tail, and by keeping it down to the sand,
prevented him from kicking up another dust. He
was finally conveyed to the canoe, and then to the
place where we had suspended our hammocks.
There I cut his throat ; and after breakfast was over,
commenced the dissection.
Now that the affray had ceased, Daddy Quashi
played a good finger and thumb at breakfast ; he
said he found himself much revived, and became
very talkative and useful, as there was no longer any
danger. He was a faithful, honest negro. His
master, my worthy friend Mr. Edmonstone, had
been so obliging as to send out particular orders to
the colony, that the Daddy should attend me all the
time I was in the forest. He had lived in the wilds
of Demerara with Mr. Edmonstone for many years ;
and often amused me with the account of the frays
his master had had in the woods with snakes, wild
beasts, and runaway negroes. Old age was now
coming fast upon him ; he had been an able fellow
in his younger days, and a gallant one too, for he
had a large scar over his eyebrow, caused by the
stroke of a cutlass, from another negro, while the
Daddy was engaged in an intrigue.
SOUTH AMERICA.
901
/WrW 1
The back of the cayman may be said to be almost third
impenetrable to a musket ball, but bis sides are not xhe back'
near so strong, and are easily pierced with an arrow ; dayman
indeed, were they as strong as the back and the belly,
there would be no part of the cayman’s body soft
and elastic enough to admit of expansion after taking
in a supply of food.
The cayman has no grinders ; his teeth are entirely its teeth,
made for snatch and swallow ; there are thirty-two
in each jaw. Perhaps no animal in existence bears
more decided marks in his countenance of cruelty
and malice than the cayman. He is the scourge
and terror of all the large rivers in South America
near the line.
One Sunday evening, some years ago, as I was Anecdote,
walking with Don Felipe de Ynciarte, governor of
Angustura, on the bank of the Oroonoque, u Stop
here a minute or two, Don Carlos,” said he to me,
“ while I recount a sad accident. One line evening
last year, as the people of Angustura were sauntering
up and down here, in the Alameda, I was within
twenty yards of this place, when I saw a large cay¬
man rush out of the river, seize a man, and carry
him down, before any body had it in his power to
assist him. The screams of the poor fellow were
terrible as the cayman was running off with him.
He plunged into the river with his prey; we in¬
stantly lost sight of him, and never saw or heard
him more.”
I was a day and a half in dissecting our cayman,
and then we all got ready to return to Demerara.
999
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
J ODRHET.
Great
danger in
descend¬
ing the
falls of
the Esse-
quibo.
It was much more perilous to descend than to
ascend the falls in the Essequibo.
The place we had to pass had proved fatal to four
Indians about a month before. The water foamed,
and dashed and boiled amongst the steep and craggy
rocks, and seemed to warn us to be careful how we
ventured there.
I was for all hands to get out of the canoe, and
then, after lashing a long rope ahead and astern, we
might have climbed from rock to rock, and tempered
her in her passage down, and our getting out would
have lightened her much. But the negro who had
joined us at Mrs. Peterson’s said he was sure it
would be safer to stay in the canoe while she went
down the fall. I was loth to give way to him;
but I did so this time against my better judgment,
as he assured me that he was accustomed to pass and
repass these falls.
Accordingly we determined to push down : I was
at the helm, the rest at their paddles. But before
we got half way through, the rushing waters deprived
the canoe of all power of steerage, and she became
the sport of the torrent ; in a second she was half full
of water, and I cannot comprehend to this day why
she did not go down; luckily the people exerted
themselves to the utmost, she got headway, and they
pulled through the whirlpool ; I being quite in the
stern of the canoe, part of a wave struck me, and
nearly knocked me overboard.
We now paddled to some rocks at a distance, got
out, unloaded the canoe, and dried the cargo in the
SOUTH AMERICA.
223
sun, which was very hot and powerful. Had it
been the wet season, almost every thing would have
been spoiled.
After this, the voyage down the Essequibo was
quick and pleasant till we reached the sea-coast ; there
we had a trying day of it ; the wind was dead against
us, and the sun remarkably hot; we got twice
aground upon a mud-flat, and were twice obliged to
get out, up to the middle in mud, to shove the canoe
through it. Half way betwixt the Essequibo and
Demerara the tide of flood caught us ; and after the
utmost exertions, it was half-past six in the evening
before we got to George- town.
We had been out from six in the morning in an
open canoe on the sea-coast, without umbrella or
awning, exposed all day to the fiery rays of a tro¬
pical sun. My face smarted so that I could get no
sleep during the night, and the next morning my lips
were all in blisters. The Indian Yan went down to
the Essequibo a copper colour, but the reflection of
the sun from the sea, and from the sand-banks in the
river, had turned him nearly black. He laughed at
himself, and said the Indians in the Demerara would
not know him again. I staid one day in George¬
town, and then set off the next morning for head
quarters in Mibiri creek, where I finished the cayman.
Here the remaining time was spent in collecting
birds, and in paying particular attention to their
haunts and economy. The rainy season having set
in, the weather became bad and stormy ; the light¬
ning and thunder were incessant : the days cloudy,
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Reaches
George¬
town.
224
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
Embarks
for Eng¬
land.
and the nights cold and misty. I had now been
: eleven months in the forests, and collected some rare
insects, two hundred and thirty birds, two land
tortoises, five armadillas, two large serpents, a sloth,
an ant-bear, and a cayman.
I left the wilds and repaired to George-town to
spend a few days with Mr. R. Edmonstone previous
to embarking for Europe. I must here return my
sincerest thanks to this worthy gentleman for his
many kindnesses to me ; his friendship was of the
utmost service to me, and he never failed to send me
supplies into the forest by every opportunity.
I embarked for England, on board the Dee West-
Indiaman, commanded by Captain Grey.
Sir Joseph Banks had often told me, he hoped
I would give a lecture in public, on the new mode
I had discovered of preparing specimens in natural
history for museums. I always declined to do so,
as I despaired of ever being able to hit upon a proper
method of doing quadrupeds ; and I was aware that
it would have been an imperfect lecture to treat of
birds only. I imparted what little knowledge I was
master of, at Sir Joseph’s, to the unfortunate gentle¬
men who went to Africa to explore the Congo ; and
that w^as all that took place in the shape of a lecture.
Now, that I had hit upon the way of doing quad¬
rupeds, I drew up a little plan on board the Dee,
which I trusted would have been of service to
naturalists ; and by proving to them the superiority
of the new plan, they would probably be induced to
abandon the old and common way, which is a dis-
SOUTH AMERICA.
225
grace to the present age, and renders hideous every
specimen in every museum that I have as yet visited.
I intended to have given three lectures ; one on
insects and serpents ; one on birds ; and one on
quadrupeds. But as it will be shortly seen, this
little plan was doomed not to be unfolded to public
view. Illiberality blasted it in the bud.
We had a pleasant passage across the Atlantic,
and arrived in the Mersey in tine trim and good
spirits. Great was the attention I received from the
commander of the Dee. He and his mate, Mr.
Spence, took every care of my collection.
On our landing, the gentlemen of the Liverpool
Custom-house received me as an old friend and ac¬
quaintance, and obligingly offered their services.
Twice before had I landed in Liverpool, and twice
had I reason to admire their conduct and liberality.
They knew I was incapable of trying to introduce
any thing contraband, and they were aware that I
never dreamed of turning to profit the specimens I
had procured. They considered that I had left a
comfortable home in quest of science ; and that I
had wandered into far-distant climes, and gone bare¬
footed, ill clothed, and ill fed, through swamps and
woods, to procure specimens, some of which had
never been seen in Europe. They considered that
it would be difficult to fix a price upon specimens
which had never been bought or sold, and which
never were to be, as they were intended to ornament
my own house. It was hard, they said, to have
exposed myself, for years, to danger, and then be
Q
THIRD
JOURNEY.
Arrives at
Liver¬
pool.
WANDERINGS IN
OOA
THIRD
JOURNEY
obliged to jiay on return to my native land. Under
these considerations, they fixed a moderate duty,
which satisfied all parties.
However, this last expedition ended not so. It
taught me how hard it is to learn the grand lesson,
u aequam memento rebus in arduis, servare mentem.”
But my good friends in the Custom-house of
Liverpool were not to blame. On the contrary,
they did all in their power to procure balm for me
instead of rue. But it would not answer.
They appointed a very civil officer to attend me
to the ship. While we were looking into some of
the boxes, to see that the specimens were properly
stowed, previous to their being conveyed to the
king’s depot, another officer entered the cabin. He
was an entire stranger to me, and seemed wonder¬
fully aware of his own consequence. Without pre¬
face or apology, he thrust his head over my shoulder,
and said, we had no business to have opened a single
box without his permission. I answered, they had
been opened almost every day since they had come
on board, and that I considered there was no harm
in doing; so.
o
He then left the cabin, and I said to myself as he
went out, I suspect I shall see that man again at
Philippi. The boxes, ten in number, were con¬
veyed in safety from the ship to the depot. I then
proceeded to the Custom-house. The necessary
forms were gone through, and a proportionate duty,
according to circumstances, was paid.
This done, we returned from the Custom-house to
SOUTH AMERICA.
227
the depot, accompanied by several gentlemen who THIRD
wished to see the collection. They expressed them- - -
selves highly gratified. The boxes were closed, and
nothing now remained but to convey them to the
cart, which was in attendance at the door of the
depot. Just as one of the inferior officers was
carrying a box thither, in stepped the man whom I
suspected I should see again at Philippi. He ab¬
ruptly declared himself dissatisfied with the valu¬
ation which the gentlemen of the customs had put
upon the collection, and said he must detain it. I
remonstrated, but it was all in vain.
After this pitiful stretch of power, and bad com¬
pliment to the other officers of the customs, who
had been satisfied with the valuation, this man had
the folly to take me aside, and after assuring me
that he had a great regard for the arts and sciences,
he lamented that conscience obliged him to do what
he had done, and he wished he had been fifty miles
from Liverpool at the time that it fell to his lot to
detain the collection. Had he looked in my face as
he said this, he would have seen no marks of credu¬
lity there.
I now returned to the Custom-house, and after
expressing my opinion of the officer’s conduct at the
depot, I pulled a bunch of keys (which belonged to
the detained boxes) out of my pocket, laid them on
the table, took my leave of the gentlemen present,
and soon after set off for Yorkshire.
I saved nothing from the grasp of the stranger
officer, but a pair of live Malay fowls, which a
r
228
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
gentleman in George-town had made me a present
of. I had collected in the forest several eggs of
curious birds, in hopes of introducing the breed into
England, and had taken great pains in doing them
over with gum arabic, and in packing them in char¬
coal, according to a receipt I had seen in the Gazette,
from the u Edinburgh Philosophical J oumal.” But
these were detained in the depot, instead of being
placed under a hen ; which utterly ruined all my
hopes of rearing a new species of birds in England.
Titled personages in London interested themselves
in behalf of the collection, but all in vain. And
vain also were the public and private representations
of the first officer of the Liverpool Custom-house in
my favour.
At last there came an order from the Treasury to
say, that any specimens Mr. Waterton intended to
present to public institutions might pass duty free ;
but those which he intended to keep for himself
must pay the duty !
A friend now wrote to me from Liverpool, re¬
questing that I would come over and pay the duty, in
order to save the collection, which had just been
detained there six weeks. I did so. On paying an
additional duty, (for the moderate duty first imposed
had already been paid,) the man who had detained
the collection delivered it up to me, assuring me that
it had been well taken care of, and that a fire had
been frequently made in the room. It is but justice
to add, that on opening the boxes, there was nothing
injured.
SOUTH AMERICA.
229
I could never get a clue to these harsh and unex- third
pected measures, except that there had been some - —
recent smuggling discovered in Liverpool ; and that
the man in question had been sent kown from Lon¬
don to act the part of Argus. If so, I landed in an
evil hour ; u nefasto die making good the Spanish
proverb, “ Pagan a las veces, justos por pecadores
at times the innocent suffer for the guilty. After all,
a little encouragement, in the shape of exemption
from paying the duty on this collection, might have
been expected ; but it turned out otherwise ; and
after expending large sums in pursuit of natural
history, on my return home I was doomed to pay
for my success : —
“ Hie finis, Caroli fatorum, hie exitus ilium,
Sorte tulit !”
Thus, my fleece, already ragged and torn with the
thorns and briers, which one must naturally expect
to find in distant and untrodden wilds, wras shorn, I
may say, on its return to England.
However, this is nothing new ; Sancho Panza Conciu-
must have heard of similar cases; for he says,
“ Muchos van por lana, y vuelven trasquilados
many go for wool, and come home shorn. In
order to pick up matter for natural history, I
have wandered through the wildest parts of South
America’s equatorial regions. I have attacked and
slain a modern Python, and rode on the back of a
cayman close to the water’s edge ; a very different
situation from that of a Hyde-park dandy on his
Sunday prancer before the ladies. Alone and bare-
230
WANDERINGS IN
THIRD
JOURNEY
foot I have pulled poisonous snakes out of their
lurking places ; climbed up trees to peep into holes
for bats and vampires, and for days together hastened
through sun and rain to the thickest parts of the
forest to procure specimens I had never got before.
In fine, I have pursued the wild beasts over hill
and dale, through swamps and quagmires, now
scorched by the noon-day sun, now drenched by the
pelting shower, and returned to the hammock, to
satisfy the cravings of hunger, often on a poor and
scanty supper.
These vicissitudes have turned to chestnut hue a
once English complexion, and changed the colour of
my hair, before father Time had meddled with it.
The detention of the collection after it had fairly
passed the Customs, and the subsequent order from
the Treasury that I should pay duty for the speci¬
mens, unless they were presented to some public
institution, have cast a damp upon my energy, and
forced, as it were, the cup of Lethe to my lips, by
drinking which I have forgot my former intention
of giving a lecture in public on preparing specimens
to adorn museums. In fine, it is this ungenerous
treatment that has paralyzed my plans, and caused
me to give up the idea I once had of inserting here
the newly discovered mode of preparing quadrupeds
and serpents ; and without it, the account of this
last expedition to the wilds of Guiana is nothing but
a — fragment.
Farewell, Gentle Reader.
SOUTH AMERICA.
FOURTH JOURNEY.
“ Nunc hue, nunc illuc et utrinque sine ordine curro.”
Courteous reader, when I bade thee last farewell,
I thought these wanderings were brought to a final
close ; afterwards I often roved in imagination
through distant countries famous for natural history,
but felt no strong inclination to go thither, as the
last adventure had terminated in such unexpected
vexation. The departure of the cuckoo and swallow,
and summer birds of passage, for warmer regions,
once so interesting to me, now scarcely caused me
to turn my face to the south ; and I continued in
this cold and dreary climate for three years. During
this period, I seldom or ever mounted my hobby¬
horse ; indeed it may be said, with the old song —
“ The saddle and bridle were laid on the shelf,”
and only taken down once, on the night that I was
induced to give a lecture in the philosophical hall of
Leeds. A little after this, Wilson’s u Ornithology
of the United States” fell into my hands.
The desire I had of seeing that country, together
with the animated description which Wilson had
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
Sails for
New
York.
232
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
Leaves
New
York for
Albany.
given of the birds, fanned up the almost expiring
flame. I forgot the vexations already alluded to,
and set off for New York, in the beautiful packet
John Wells, commanded by Captain Harris. The
passage was long and cold ; but the elegant accom¬
modations on board, and the polite attention of the
commander, rendered it very agreeable; and I
landed, in health and merriment, in the stately
capital of the new world.
We will soon pen down a few remarks on this
magnificent city, but not just now. I want to ven¬
ture into the north-west country, and get to their
great canal, which the world talks so much about,
though I fear it will be hard work to make one’s way
through bugs, bears, brutes, and buffaloes, which
we Europeans imagine are so frequent and ferocious
in these never-ending western wilds.
I left New York on a fine morning in J uly, with¬
out one letter of introduction, for the city of Albany,
some hundred and eighty miles up the celebrated
Hudson. I seldom care about letters of introduc¬
tion, for I am one of those who depend much upon
an accidental acquaintance. Full many a face do I
see, as I go wandering up and down the world,
whose mild eye, and sweet and placid features, seem
to beckon to me, and say, as it Avere, “ Speak but
civilly to me, and I will do what I can for you.”
Such a face as this is worth more than a dozen
letters of introduction ; and such a face, gentle
reader, I found on board the steam-boat from New
York to the city of Albany.
SOUTH AMERICA.
There was a great number of well-dressed ladies and
gentlemen in the vessel, all entire strangers to me. I
fancied I could see several, whose countenances invited
an unknown wanderer to come and take a seat be¬
side them ; but there was one who encouraged me more
than the rest. I saw clearly that he was an Ameri¬
can, and I judged by his manners and appearance,
that he had not spent all his time upon his native
soil. I was right in this conjecture, for he after¬
wards told me that he had been in France and
England. I saluted him as one stranger gentleman
ought to salute another when he wants a little infor¬
mation ; and soon after, I dropped in a word or two
by which he might conjecture that I was a foreigner;
but I did not tell him so ; I wished him to make the
discovery himself.
He entered into conversation with the openness
and candour which is so remarkable in the Ameri¬
can ; and in a little time observed that he presumed
I was from the old country. I told him that I was,
and added, that I was an entire stranger on board.
I saw his eye brighten up at the prospect he had of
doing a fellow- creature a kind turn or two, and he
completely won my regard by an affability which I
shall never forget. This obliging gentleman pointed
out every thing that was grand and interesting as
the steam-boat plied her course up the majestic
Hudson. Here the Catskill mountains raised their
lofty summit; and there the hills came sloping down
to the water’s edge. Here he pointed to an aged
and venerable oak, which having escaped the levelling
234
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
The great
canal.
axe of man, seemed almost to defy the blasting storm,
and desolating hand of time ; and there, he bade me
observe an extended tract of wood, by which I might
form an idea how rich and grand the face of the
country had once been. Here it was that, in the
great and momentous struggle, the colonists lost the
day ; and there they carried all before them : —
“ They closed full fast, on every side
No slackness there was found ;
And many a gallant gentleman
Lay gasping on the ground.”
Here, in fine, stood a noted regiment; there, moved
their great captain ; here, the fleets fired their
broadsides ; and there, the whole force rushed on to
battle : —
“ Hie Dolopum manus, hie magnus tendebat Achilles,
Classibus hie locus, hie acies certare solebat.”
At tea-time we took our tea together, and the next
morning this worthy American walked up with me
to the inn in Albany, shook me by the hand, and then
went his way. I bade him farewell, and again fare¬
well, and hoped that fortune might bring us together
again once more. Possibly she may yet do so ; and
should it be in England, I will take him to my
house, as an old friend and acquaintance, and offer
him my choicest cheer. This excellent gentleman
lived in New York, and his name was William Tyas.
It is at Albany that the great canal opens into
the Hudson, and joins the waters of this river to
those of Lake Erie. The Hudson, at the city of
Albany, is distant from Lake Erie about three
SOUTH AMERICA.
235
hundred and sixty miles. The level of the lake is
five hundred and sixty-four feet higher than the
Hudson, and there are eighty-one locks on the canal.
It is to the genius and perseverance of He Witt
Clinton, that the United States owe the almost in¬
calculable advantages of this inland navigation.
11 Exegit monumentum sere perennius.” You may
either go along it all the way to Buffalo, on Lake
Erie, or by the stage ; or sometimes on one and then
in the other, just as you think fit. Grand, indeed,
is the scenery by either route, and capital the accom¬
modations. Cold and phlegmatic must he be who
is not warmed into admiration by the surrounding
scenery, and charmed with the affability of the tra¬
vellers he meets on the way.
This is now the season of roving, and joy and
merriment for the gentry of this happy country.
Thousands are on the move from different parts of
the U nion for the springs and lakes, and the falls of
Niagara. There is nothing haughty or forbidding
in the Americans ; and wherever you meet them,
they appear to be quite at home. This is exactly
what it ought to be, and very much in favour of the
foreigner who journeys amongst them. The im¬
mense number of highly polished females who go in
the stages to visit the different places of amusement,
and see the stupendous natural curiosities of this ex¬
tensive country, incontestably proves that safety and
convenience are ensured to them, and that the most
distant attempt at rudeness would, by common con¬
sent, be immediately put down.
FOURTH
JOURNEY
Scenery.'
236
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOUH N KY.
By the time I had got to Schenectady, I began
strongly to suspect that I had come into the wrong
country to look for bugs, bears, brutes, and buffaloes.
It is an enchanting journey from Albany to Schenec¬
tady, and from thence to Lake Erie. The situation
of the city of Utica is particularly attractive; the
Mohawk running close by it, the fertile fields and
woody mountains, and the falls of Trenton, forcibly
press the stranger to stop a day or two here, before
he proceeds onward to the lake.
At some far-distant period, when it will not be
possible to find the place where many of the cele¬
brated cities of the East once stood, the world will have
to thank the United States of America for bringing
their names into the western regions. It is indeed,
a pretty thought of these people to give to their
rising towns the names of places so famous and con¬
spicuous in former times.
As I was sitting one evening under an oak, in the
high grounds behind Utica, I could not look down
upon the city without thinking of Cato and his mis¬
fortunes. Had the town been called Crofton, or
Warmfield, or Dewsbury, there would have been
nothing remarkable in it; but Utica at once revived
the scenes at school long past and half forgotten, and
carried me with full speed back again to Italy, and
from thence to Africa. I crossed the Rubicon with
Caesar; fought at Pharsalia; saw poor Pompey
into Larissa, and tried to wrest the fatal sword from
Cato’s hand in Utica. When I perceived he was
no more, I mourned over the noble-minded man
SOUTH AMERICA.
237
who took that part which he thought would most fourth
benefit his country. There is something magnificent - - —
in the idea of a man taking by choice the conquered
side. The Roman gods themselves did otherwise.
“ Victrix causa Diis placuit, sed victa Catoni.”
“ In this did Cato with the Gods divide,
They chose the conquering, he the conquer’d side.”
The whole of the country from Utica to Buffalo Face of
is pleasing ; and the intervening of the inland lakes, country,
large and deep and clear, adds considerably to the
effect. The spacious size of the inns, their excellent
provisions, and the attention which the traveller re¬
ceives in going from Albany to Buffalo, must at
once convince him that this country is very much
visited by strangers ; and he will draw the conclu¬
sion that there must be something in it uncommonly
interesting to cause so many travellers to pass to
and fro.
Nature is losing fast her ancient garb, and putting
on a new dress in these extensive regions. Most of
the stately timber has been carried away; thousands
of trees are lying prostrate on the ground ; while
meadows, corn-fields, villages, and pastures are ever
and anon bursting upon the traveller’s view as he
journeys on through the remaining tracts of wood.
I wish I could say a word or two for the fine timber
which is yet standing. Spare it, gentle inhabitants,
for your country’s sake ; these noble sons of the
forest beautify your landscapes beyond all descrip¬
tion ; when they are gone, a century will not replace
their loss; they cannot, they must not fall; their
‘238
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY,
Buffalo.
Falls of
Niagara.
vernal bloom, their summer richness, and autumnal
tints, please and refresh the eye of man ; and even
when the days of joy and warmth are fled, the
wintry blast soothes the listening ear with a sublime
and pleasing melancholy as it howls through their
naked branches.
“ Around me trees unnumber’d rise,
Beautiful in various dyes :
The gloomy pine, the poplar blue,
The yellow beech, the sable yew ;
The slender fir, that taper grows,
The sturdy oak, with broad-spread boughs.”
A few miles before you reach Buffalo, the road is
low and bad, and, in stepping out of the stage, I
sprained my foot very severely ; it swelled to a great
size, and caused me many a day of pain and morti¬
fication, as will be seen in the sequel.
Buffalo looks down on Lake Erie, and possesses
a fine and commodious inn. At a little distance is
the Black Rock, and there you pass over to the
Canada side. A stage is in waiting to convey you
some sixteen or twenty miles down to the falls.
Long before you reach the spot you hear the mighty
roar of waters, and see the spray of the far-famed
falls of Niagara, rising up like a column to the
heavens, and mingling with the passing clouds.
At this stupendous cascade of nature, the waters
of the lake fall one hundred and seventy-six feet per¬
pendicular. It has been calculated, I forget by
whom, that the quantity of water discharged down
this mighty fall, is six hundred and seventy thousand
two hundred and fifty-five tons per minute. There are
SOUTH AMERICA.
239
two large inns on the Canada side ; but, after you FOURTH
have satisfied your curiosity in viewing the falls, and
in seeing the rainbow in the foam far below where
you are standing, do not, I pray you, tarry long at
either of them. Cross over to the American side,
and there you will find a spacious inn, which has
nearly all the attractions ; there you meet with great
attention, and every accommodation.
The day is passed in looking at the falls, and in
sauntering up and down the wooded and rocky en¬
virons of the Niagara; and the evening is often en¬
livened by the merry dance.
Words can hardly do justice to the unaffected American
ease and elegance of the American ladies who visit
the falls of Niagara. The traveller need not rove
in imagination through Circassia in search of fine
© ©
forms, or through England, France, and Spain, to
meet with polished females. The numbers who are
continually arriving from all parts of the Union
confirm the justness of this remark.
I was looking one evening at a dance, being
unable to join in it on account of the accident I had
received near Buffalo, when a young American en¬
tered the ball-room with such a becoming air and
grace, that it was impossible not to have been struck
with her appearance.
“ Her bloom was like the springing flower
That sips the silver dew,
The rose was budded in her cheek,
Just opening to the view.”
I could not help feeling a wish to know where she
had
“ Into such beauty spread, and blown so fair.”
240
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY
Upon inquiry, I found that she was from the city of
: Albany. The more I looked at the fair Albanese,
the more I was convinced, that in the United States
of America may be found grace and beauty and
symmetry equal to any thing in the old world.
I now for good and all (and well I might) gave
lip the idea of finding bugs, bears, brutes, and buffa¬
loes in this country, and was thoroughly satisfied
that I had laboured under a great mistake in sus¬
pecting that I should ever meet with them.
I wished to join in the dance where the fair Alba¬
nese was u to brisk notes in cadence beating,” but
the state of my unlucky foot rendered it impossible ;
and as I sat with it reclined upon a sofa, full many a
passing gentleman stopped to inquire the cause of
my misfortune, presuming at the same time that I
had got an attack of gout. Now this surmise of
theirs always mortified me ; for I never had a fit of
gout in my life, and, moreover, never expect to have
one.
In many of the inns in the United States, there is
an album on the table, in which travellers insert
their arrival and departure, and now and then in¬
dulge in a little flash or two of wit,
I thought under existing circumstances, that there
would be no harm in briefly telling my misadven¬
ture ; and so, taking up the pen, I wrote what fol¬
lows ; and was never after asked a single question
about the gout.
UC. Waterton, of Walton-hall, in the county of
York, England, arrived at the falls of Niagara, in
SOUTH AMERICA.
241
July, 1824, and begs leave to pen down the follow¬
ing dreadful accident : —
“ He sprained his foot, and hurt his toe,
On the rough road near Buffalo.
It quite distresses him to stagger a-
Long the sharp rocks of famed Niagara.
So thus he’s doomed to drink the measure
Of pain, in lieu of that of pleasure.
On Hope’s delusive pinions borne,
He came for wool and goes hack shorn.
AT.R. — Here he alludes to nothing hut
Th’ adventure of his toe and foot ;
Save this, — he sees all that which can
Delight and charm the soul of man,
But feels it not, — because his toe
And foot together plague him so.”
I remember once to have sprained my ancle very
violently many years ago, and that the doctor or¬
dered me to hold it under the pump two or three
times a day. Now, in the United States of America,
all is upon a grand scale, except taxation ; and I am
convinced that the traveller’s ideas become much
more enlarged as he journeys through the country.
This being the case, I can easily account for the
desire I felt to hold my sprained foot under the fall
of Niagara. I descended the winding staircase
which has been made for the accommodation of tra¬
vellers, and then hobbled on to the scene of action.
As I held my leg under the fall, I tried to meditate
on the immense difference there was betwixt a house
pump and this tremendous cascade of nature, and
what effect it might have upon the sprain ; but the
magnitude of the subject was too overwhelming, and
I was obliged to drop it.
R
FOURTH
.TOURNEY.
242
WANDERINGS IN
.FOURTH
JOURNEY
Perhaps, indeed, there was an unwarrantable
tincture of vanity in an unknown wanderer wishing
to have it in his power to tell the world, that he had
held his sprained foot under a fall of water, which
discharges six hundred and seventy thousand two
hundred and fifty-five tons per minute. A gentle
purling stream would have suited better. Now, it
would have become Washington to have quenched
his battle-thirst in the fall of Niagara; and there
was something royal in the idea of Cleopatra drink¬
ing pearl- vinegar, made from the grandest pearl in
Egypt ; and it became Cains Marius to send word
that he was sitting upon the ruins of Carthage.
Here, we have the person suited to the thing, and
the tiling to the person.
If, gentle reader, thou wouldst allow me to indulge
a little longer in this harmless pen-errantry, I would
tell thee, that I have had my ups and downs in life,
as well as other people ; for I have climbed to the
point of the conductor above the cross on the top of
St. Peter’s, in Rome, and left my glove there. I
have stood on one foot, upon the Guardian Angel’s
head, on the castle of St. Angelo ; and, as I have
just told thee, I have been low down under the fall
of Niagara. But this is neither here nor there ; let
us proceed to something else.
When the pain of my foot had become less violent,
and the swelling somewhat abated, I could not resist
the inclination I felt to go down Ontario, and so on
to Montreal and Quebec, and take Lakes Champlain
and George in my way back to Albany.
SOUTH AMERICA.
243
J ust as I had made up my mind to it, a family
from the Bowling-green, in New York, who was
going the same route, politely invited me to join
their party. Nothing could be more fortunate.
They were highly accomplished. The young ladies
sang delightfully ; and all contributed their portion,
to render the tour pleasant and amusing.
Travellers have already filled the world with de¬
scriptions of the bold and sublime scenery from
Lake Erie to Quebec : —
“ The fountain’s fall, the river's flow,
The woody valleys, warm and low ;
The windy summit wild and high,
Roughly rushing to the sky.”
And there is scarce one of them who has not de¬
scribed the achievements of former and latter times,
on the different battle-grounds. Here, great Wolfe
expired. Brave Montcalm was carried, mortally
wounded, through yonder gate. Here fell the gal¬
lant Brock 5 and there General Sheaffee captured
all the invaders. And in yonder harbour may be
seen the mouldering remnants of British vessels.
Their hour of misfortune has long passed away.
The victors have now no use for them in an inland
lake. Some have already sunk, while others, dis¬
mantled and half-dismasted, are just above the
water, waiting, in shattered state, that destiny which
must sooner or later destroy the fairest works of man.
The excellence and despatch of the steam-boats,
together with the company which the traveller is
sure to meet with at this time of the year, render the
trip down to Montreal and Quebec very agreeable.
R 2
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
244
FOURTH
JOXIRN FY.
The Cana¬
dians.
Portifica-
iions at
Quebec.
WANDERINGS IN
Tlie Canadians are a quiet, and apparently a
happy people. They are very courteous and affable
to strangers. On comparing them with the charac¬
ter which a certain female traveller, a journalist, has
thought fit to give them, the stranger might have
great doubts whether or not he were amongst the
Canadians.
Montreal, Quebec, and the falls of Montmorency,
are well worth going to see. They are making tre¬
mendous fortifications at Quebec. It will be the
Gibraltar of the new world. When one considers
its distance from Europe, and takes a view of its
powerful and enterprising neighbour, Virgil’s remark
at once rushes into the mind,
“Sic vos non vobis nidificatis aves.”
I left Montreal with regret. I had the good
fortune to be introduced to the Professors of the
College. These fathers are a very learned and
worthy set of gentlemen ; and on my taking leave
of them, I felt a heaviness at heart, in reflecting that
I had not more time to cultivate their acquaintance.
In all the way from Buffalo to Quebec, I only
met with one bug ; and I cannot even swear that it
belonged to the United States. In going down the
St. Lawrence, in the steam-boat, I felt something
crossing over my neck ; and on laying hold of it
with my finger and thumb, it turned out to be a
little half-grown, ill-conditioned bug. Now, whether
it were going from the American to the Canada
side, or from the Canada to the American, and had
taken the advantage of my shoulders to ferry itself
SOUTH AMERICA.
245
across, I could not tell. Be this as it may, I
thought of my uncle Toby and the fly ; and so, in
lieu of placing it upon the deck, and then putting
my thumb-nail vertically upon it, I quietly chucked it
amongst some baggage that was close by, and recom¬
mended it to get ashore by the first opportunity.
When we had seen all that was worth seeing in
Quebec and at the falls of Montmorency, and had
been on board the enormous ship Columbus, we re¬
turned for a day or two to Montreal, and then pro¬
ceeded to Saratoga by Lakes Champlain and George.
The steam-boat from Quebec to Montreal had above
five hundred Irish emigrants on board. They were
going “ they hardly knew whither,” far away from
dear Ireland. It made one’s heart ache to see them
all huddled together, without any expectation of
ever revisiting their native soil. We feared that
the sorrow of leaving home for ever, the miserable
accommodations on board the ship which had
brought them away, and the tossing of the angry
ocean, in a long and dreary voyage, would have
rendered them callous to good behaviour. But it
was quite otherwise. They conducted themselves
with great propriety. Every American on board
seemed to feel for them. And then u they were so
full of wretchedness. Need and oppression starved
in their eyes. Upon their backs hung ragged misery.
The world was not their friend.” Poor dear Ire¬
land, exclaimed an aged female, as I was talking to
her, I shall never see it any more ! and then her
tears began to flow. Probably the scenery on the
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
Irish
emigrants
246
WANDERINGS IN
fourth banks of the St. Lawrence recalled to her mind the
JOURNEY. , .
remembrance ot spots once interesting to her:
“ The lovely daughter,— lovelier in her tears,
The fond companion of her father’s years,
Here silent stood, — neglectful of her charms,
And left her lover’s for her father’s arms.
With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,
And blessed the cot where every pleasure rose ;
And pressed her thoughtless babes with many a tear,
And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear.
While the fond husband strove to lend relief,
In all the silent manliness of grief.”
We went a few miles out of our route to take a
look at the once formidable fortress of Ticonderago.
It has long been in ruins, and seems as if it were
doomed to moulder quite away.
“ Ever and anon there falls
Huge heaps of hoary moulder’d walls.
But time has seen, that lifts the low
And level lays the lofty brow,
Has seen this ruin’d pile complete,
Big with the vanity of state,
But transient is the smile of fate.”
The scenery of Lake George is superb ; the inn
remarkably spacious and well attended ; and the con-
Saratoga. veyance from thence to Saratoga, very good. He
must be sorely afflicted with spleen and jaundice,
who, on his arrival at Saratoga, remarks, there is
nothing here worth coming to see. It is a gay and
fashionable place ; has four uncommonly fine hotels ;
its waters, for medicinal virtues, are surpassed by
none in the known world; and it is resorted to,
throughout the whole of the summer, by foreigners
and natives of the first consideration. Saratoga
O
SOUTH AMERICA.
247
pleased me much; and afforded a fair opportunity of fourth
forming a pretty correct idea of the gentry of the -
United States.
There is a pleasing frankness, and ease and be¬
coming dignity in the American ladies; and the
good humour, and absence of all haughtiness and
puppyism in the gentlemen, must, no doubt, impress
the traveller with elevated notions of the company
who visit this famous spa.
During my stay here, all was joy, and affability,
and mirth. In the mornings the ladies played and
sang for us ; and the evenings were generally enli¬
vened with the merry dance. Here I hade farewell
to the charming family, in whose company I had
passed so many happy days, and proceeded to Albany.
The stage stopped a little while in the town of Troy.
Troy. The name alone was quite sufficient to recall
to the mind scenes long past and gone. Poor king
Priam ! Napoleon’s sorrows, sad and piercing as
they were, did not come up to those of this ill-fated
monarch. The Greeks first set his town on fire,
and then began to bully : —
“ Incensa Danai dominantur in urbe.”
One of his sons was slain before his face ; u ante ora
parentum, concidit.” Another was crushed to mum¬
my by boa constrictors ; “ immensis orbibus an-
gues.” His city was rased to the ground, “jacet
Ilion ingens.” And Pyrrhus ran him through with
his sword, “ capulo tenus abdidit ensem.” This last
may be considered as a fortunate stroke for the poor
old king. Had his life been spared at this juncture
WANDERINGS IN
248
FOURTH
JOURNEY,
lie could not have lived long;. He must have died
broken-hearted. He would have seen his son-in-
law, once master of a noble stud, now, for want of a
horse, obliged to carry off his father, up hill, on his
own back, “ cessi et sublato, montem genitore petivi. ”
He would have heard of his grandson being thrown
neck and heels from a high tower, u mittitur
Astyanax illis de turribus.” He would have been
informed of his wife tearing out the eyes of king
Odrysius with her finger nails, u digitos in perfida
lumina condit.” Soon after this, losing all appear¬
ance of woman, she became a bitch,
“ Perdidit infelix, liominis post omnia formam,”
and rent the heavens with her bowlings,
“Externasque novo latratu terruit auras.”
Then, becoming distracted with the remembrance of
her misfortunes, ‘‘veterum memor ilia malorum,”
she took o ff howling into the fields of Thrace, —
“ Turn quoque Sithonios, ululavit moesta per agros.”
J uno, J ove’s wife and sister, was heard to declare,
that poor Hecuba did not deserve so terrible a fate, — •
“ Ipsa Jovis conjuxque sororque,
Eventus Heeubam meruisse negaverit illos.”
Had poor Priam escaped from Troy, one thing, and
only one thing, would have given him a small ray
of satisfaction, viz. he would have heard of one of
his daughters nobly preferring to leave this world,
rather than live to become servant-maid to old
Grecian ladies : — •
“ Non ego Myrmidonum sedes, Dolopumve superbas,
Adspiciam, aut Graiis servitum matribus ibo.”
SOUTH AMERICA.
249
At some future period, should a foreign armed force,
or intestine broils, (all which heaven avert,) raise
Troy to the dignity of a fortified city, Virgil’s pro¬
phecy may then be fulfilled,
“ Atque iterum ad Trojam magmis mittetur Achilles.”
After leaving Troy, I passed through a fine country
to Albany ; and then proceeded by steam down the
Hudson to New York.
Travellers hesitate whether to give the preference
to Philadelphia or to New York. Philadelphia is
certainly a noble city, and its environs beautiful ; but
there is a degree of quiet and sedateness in it, which,
though no doubt very agreeable to the man of calm
and domestic habits, is not so attractive to one of
speedy movements. The quantity of white marble
which is used in the buildings, gives to Philadelphia
a gay and lively appearance ; but the sameness of
the streets, and their crossing each other at right
angles, are somewhat tiresome. The water-works
which supply the city, are a proud monument of the
skill and enterprise of its inhabitants ; and the mar¬
ket is well worth the attention of the stranger.
When you go to Philadelphia, be sure not to for¬
get to visit the Museum. It will afford you a great
treat. Some of Mr. Peale’s family are constantly
in it, and are ever ready to show the curiosities to
strangers, and to give them every necessary infor¬
mation. Mr. Peale has now passed his eightieth
year, and appears to possess the vivacity, and, I may
almost add, the activity of youth.
FOURTH
JOURS' KV.
Philadel¬
phia.
Its
Museum.
250
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOTTR VRV,
To the indefatigable exertions of this gentleman
is the western world indebted for the possession of
this splendid museum. Mr. Peale is, moreover, an
excellent artist. Look attentively, I pray you, at
the portrait he has taken of himself, by desire of the
State of Pennsylvania. On entering the room he
appears in the act of holding up a curtain to show
you his curiosities. The effect of the light upon his
head is infinitely striking. I have never seen any
thing finer in the way of light and shade. The
skeleton of the mammoth is a national treasure.
I could form but a faint idea of it by description,
until I had seen it. It is the most magnificent
skeleton in the world. The city ought never to
forget the great expense Mr. Peale was put to, and
the skill and energy he showed, during the many
months he spent in searching the swamps, where
these enormous bones had been concealed from the
eyes of the world for centuries.
The extensive squares of this city are ornamented
with well-grown and luxuriant trees. Its unremit¬
ting attention to literature might cause it to be styled
American the Athens of the United States. Here, learning
and science have taken up their abode. The lite¬
rary and philosophical associations, the enthusiasm
of individuals, the activity of the press, and the
cheapness of the publications, ought to raise the
name of Philadelphia to an elevated situation in the
temple of knowledge.
From the press of this city came Wilson’s famous
“ Ornithology.” By observing the birds in their
SOUTH AMERICA.
251
native haunts, he has been enabled to purge their fourth
history of numberless absurdities, which inexpe- J0UB-—
rienced theorists had introduced into it. It is a
pleasing and a brilliant work. We have no de¬
scription of birds in any European publication that
can come up to this. By perusing u Wilson’s Orni¬
thology” attentively before I left England, I knew
where to look for the birds, and immediately recog¬
nised them in their native land.
Since his time, I fear that the white-headed eagles wwte-
liave been much thinned. I was perpetually look- Eagles,
ing out for them, but saw very few. One or two
came now and then, and soared in lofty flight over
the falls of Niagara. The Americans are proud
of this bird in effigy, and their hearts rejoice when
its banner is unfurled. Could they not then be
persuaded to protect the white-headed eagle, and
allow it to glide in safety over its own native forests ?
Were I an American, I should think I had com¬
mitted a kind of sacrilege in killing the white-headed
eagle. The Ibis was held sacred by the Egyptians;
the Hollanders protect the stork ; the vulture sits
unmolested on the top of the houses in the city of
Angustura; and Robin-red-breast, for his charity,
is cherished by the English : —
“ No burial these pretty babes
Of any man receives,
Till Robin-red-breast painfully
Did cover them with leaves.”*
Poor Wilson was smote by the hand of death,
before he had finished his work. Prince Charles
* The fault against grammar is lost in the beauty of the idea.
252
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY
Neiv
Y ork.
Its
streets,
houses,
&c.
American
ladies.
Buonaparte, nephew to the late Emperor Napoleon,
aided by some of the most scientific gentlemen of
Pennsylvania, is continuing this valuable and inte¬
resting publication.
New York, with great propriety, may be called
the commercial capital of the newr world : —
“ Urbs augusta potens, nulli cessura.”
Ere long, it will be on the coast of N orth America
what Tyre once was on that of Syria. In her port
are the ships of all nations ; and in her streets is
displayed merchandise from all parts of the known
world. And then the approach to it is so enchant¬
ing ! The verdant fields, the woody hills, the farms,
and country houses, form a beautiful landscape as
you sail up to the city of New York.
Broadway is the principal street. It is three
miles and a half long. I am at a loss to know
where to look for a street, in any part of the world,
which has so many attractions as this. There are
no steam engines to annoy you by filling the atmo¬
sphere full of soot and smoke ; the houses have a
stately appearance ; while the eye is relieved from
the perpetual sameness, which is common in most
streets, by lofty and luxuriant trees.
Nothing can surpass the appearance of the
American ladies, when they take their morning
walk, from twelve to three, in Broadway. The
stranger will at once see that they have rejected the
extravagant superfluities which appear in the Lon¬
don and Parisian fashions ; and have only retained
SOUTH AMERICA.
253
as much of those costumes, as is becoming to the
female form. This, joined to their own just notions
of dress, is what renders the New York ladies so
elegant in their attire. The vray they wear the
Leghorn hat deserves a remark or two. With us,
the formal hand of the milliner binds dowm the brim
to one fixed shape, and that none of the handsomest.
The vrearer is obliged to turn her head full ninety
degrees before she can see the person who is stand¬
ing by her side. But in New York the ladies have
the brim of the hat not fettered writh wire, or tape,
or riband, but quite free and undulating ; and by
applying the hand to it, they can conceal or expose
as much of the face as circumstances require. This
hiding and exposing of the face, by the by, is cer-
tainlv a dangerous movement, and often fatal to the
passing swain. I am convinced in my own mind,
that many a determined and unsuspecting bachelor,
has been shot dowm by this sudden manoeuvre, before
he was aware that he was within reach of the battery.
The American ladies seem to have an abhorrence
(and a very just one too) of wearing caps. When
one considers for a moment, that women wear the
hair long, which nature has given them both for an
ornament and to keep the head warm, one is apt to
wonder, by what perversion of good taste they can
be induced to enclose it in a cap. A mob cap, a
lace cap, a low cap, a high cap, a flat cap, a cap
with ribands dangling loose, a cap with ribands tied
under the chin, a peak cap, an angular cap, a round
cap, and a pyramid cap ! How would Canova’s
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
254
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNF.Y.
Hotels
and
boarding¬
houses.
V enus look in a mob cap ? If there be any orna¬
ment to the head in wearing a cap, it must surely be
a false ornament. The American ladies are per¬
suaded that the head can be ornamented without a
cap. A rose-bud or two, a woodbine, or a sprig of
eglantine, look well in the braided hair ; and if there
be raven locks, a lily or a snowdrop may be inter¬
woven with effect.
Now that the packets are so safe, and make such
quick passages to the United States, it would be as
well if some of our head milliners would go on
board of them, in lieu of getting into the Diligence
for Paris. They would bring back more taste, and
less caricature. And if they could persuade a dozen
or two of the farmers’ servant sdrls to return with
O
them, we should soon have proof positive, that as
good butter and cheese may be made with the hair
braided up, and a daisy or primrose in it, as butter
and cheese made in a cap of barbarous shape ;
washed, perhaps, in soap-suds last new moon.
New York has very good hotels, and genteel
boarding-houses. All charges included, you do not
pay above two dollars a day. Little enough, when
you consider the capital accommodations, and the
abundance of food.
In this city, as well as in others which I visited,
every body seemed to walk at his ease. I could see
no inclination for jostling ; no impertinent staring at
you ; nor attempts to create a row in order to pick
your pocket. I would stand for an hour together
in Broadway, to observe the passing multitude.
SOUTH AMERICA.
255
There is certainly a gentleness in these people, both fourth
to be admired and imitated. I could see very few -
dogs, still fewer cats, and but a very small propor¬
tion of fat women in the streets of New York. The
climate was the only thing that I had really to find
fault with : and as the autumn was now approaching,
I began to think of preparing for warmer regions.
Strangers are apt to get violent colds, on account climate,
of the sudden change of the atmosphere. The noon
would often be as warm as tropical weather, and the
close of day cold and chilly. This must sometimes
act with severity upon the newly-arrived stranger ;
and it requires more care and circumspection than
I am master of to guard against it. I contracted a
bad and obstinate cough, which did not quite leave
me till I had got under the regular heat of the sun,
near the equator.
I may be asked, was it all good fellowship and
civility during my stay in the United States? Did
no forward person cause offence ? was there no ex¬
hibition of drunkenness, or swearing, or rudeness ;
or display of conduct which disgraces civilized man
in other countries ? I answer, very few indeed :
scarce any worth remembering, and none worth
noticing. These are a gentle and a civil people.
Should a traveller, now and then in the long run,
witness a few of the scenes alluded to, he ought not,
on his return home, to adduce a solitary instance or
two, as the custom of the country. In roving
through the wilds of Guiana, I have sometimes seen
a tree hollow at heart, shattered and leafless ; but I
258
WANDERINGS IN
fourth did not on that account condemn its vigorous neigh¬
bours, and put down a memorandum that the woods
were bad ; on the contrary, I made allowances : a
thunder-storm, the whirlwind, a blight from heaven
might have robbed it of its bloom, and caused its
present forbidding appearance. And, in leaving the
forest, I carried away the impression, that though
some few of the trees were defective, the rest were an
ornament to the wilds, full of uses and virtues, and
capable of benefiting the world in a superior degree.
A man generally travels into foreign countries for
his own ends ; and I suspect there is scarcely an
instance to be found of a person leaving his own
home solelv with the intention of benefiting those
amongst whom he is about to travel. A commercial
speculation, curiosity, a wish for information, a
desire to reap benefit from an acquaintance with our
distant fellow-creatures, are the general inducements
for a man to leave his own fire-side. This ought
never to be forgotten ; and then the traveller will
journey on under the persuasion that it rather be¬
comes him to court than expect to be courted, as his
own interest is the chief object of his travels. With
this in view, he will always render himself pleasant
to the natives ; and they are sure to repay his little
acts of courtesy with ample interest, and with a fund
of information which will be of great service to him.
While in the United States, I found our western
brother a very pleasant fellow ; but his portrait has
been drawn in such different shades, by different
travellers who have been through his territory, that
SOUTH AMERICA.
257
it requires a personal interview before a correct idea
can be formed of his true colours. He is very in¬
quisitive ; but it is quite wrong on that account to
tax him with being of an impertinent turn. He
merely interrogates you for information ; and when
you have satisfied him on that score, only ask him in
your turn for an account of what is going on in his
own country, and he will tell you every thing about
it with great good humour, and in excellent language.
He has certainly hit upon the way (but I could not
make out by what means) of speaking a much purer
English language than that which is in general
spoken on the parent soil. This astonished me
much ; but it is really the case. Amongst his many
good qualities, he has one unenviable, and, I may
add, a bad propensity : he is immoderately fond of
smoking. He may say, that he learned it from his
nurse, with wdiom it was once much in vogue. In
Dutch William’s time (he was a man of bad taste),
the English gentleman could not do without his pipe.
During the short space of time that corporal Trim
was at the inn inquiring after poor Lefevre’s health,
my uncle Toby had knocked the ashes out of three
pipes. “ It was not till my uncle Toby had knocked
the ashes out of his third pipe,” &c. Now these
times have luckily gone by, and the custom of
smoking amongst genteel Englishmen has nearly
died away with them ; it is a foul custom ; it makes
a foul mouth, and a foul place where the smoker
stands : however, every nation has its wrhims. John
Bull relishes stinking venison ; a Frenchman depo-
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
s
258
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY
Its laws
and go¬
vern¬
ment.
pulates whole swamps in quest of frogs ; a Dutch¬
man’s pipe is never out of his mouth ; a Russian
will eat tallow candles ; and the American indulges
in the cigar. “ De gustibus non estdisputandum.”
Our western brother is in possession of a country
replete with every thing that can contribute to the
happiness and comfort of mankind. His code of
laws, purified by experience and common sense, has
fully answered the expectations of the public. By
acting up to the true spirit of this code, he has
reaped immense advantages from it. His advance¬
ment, as a nation, has been rapid beyond all calcu¬
lation ; and, young as he is, it may be remarked, with¬
out any impropriety, that he is now actually reading
a salutary lesson to the rest of the civilized world.
It is but some forty years ago, that he had the
dispute with his nurse about a dish of tea. She
■wanted to force the boy to drink it according to her
own receipt. He said, he did not like it, and that
it absolutely made him ill. After a good deal of
sparring, she took up the birch rod, and began to
whip him with an uncommon degree of asperity.
When the poor lad found that he must either drink
the nauseous dish of tea or be flogged to death, he
turned upon her in self-defence ; showed her to the
outside of the nursery door, and never more allowed
her to meddle wbth his affairs.
Since the independence, the population has in¬
creased from three to ten millions. A fine navy has
been built ; and every thing attended to that could
ensure prosperity at home, and respect abroad.
SOUTH AMERICA.
259
The former wilds of North America bear ample
testimony to the achievements of this enterprising
people. Forests have been cleared away, swamps
drained, canals dug, and flourishing settlements
established. From the shores of the Atlantic an
immense column of knowledge has rolled into the
interior. The Mississippi, the Ohio, the Missouri,
and their tributary streams, have been wonderfully
benefited by it. It now seems as if it were ad¬
vancing towards the stony mountains ; and, pro¬
bably, will not become stationary till it reaches the
Pacific Ocean. This almost immeasurable territory
affords a shelter and a home to mankind in general :
J ew or Gentile, king’s-man or republican, he meets
with a friendly reception in the United States. His
opinions, his persecutions, his errors, or mistakes,
however they may have injured him in other
countries, are dead, and of no avail on his arrival
here. Provided he keeps the peace, he is sure to
be at rest.
Politicians of other countries imagine that intes¬
tine feuds will cause a division in this common¬
wealth ; at present there certainly appears to be no
reason for such a conjecture. Heaven forbid that it
should happen. The world at large would suffer
by it. For ages yet to come, may this great com¬
monwealth continue to be the United States of North
America !
The sun was now within a week or two of passing
into the southern hemisphere, and the mornings
and evenings were too cold to be comfortable. I
S 2
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
260
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY
Embarks
for
Antigua.
St. John's.
embarked for the island of Antigua, with the inten¬
tion of calling at the different islands in the Carib¬
bean sea, on my way once more towards the wilds
of Guiana.
We were thirty days in making Antigua, and
thanked Providence for ordering us so long a passage.
A tremendous gale of wind, approaching to a hurri¬
cane, had done much damage in the West Indies.
Had our passage been of ordinary length, we should
inevitably have been caught in the gale.
St. John’s is the capital of Antigua. In better
times it may have had its gaieties and amusements.
At present, it appears sad and woe-begone. The
houses, which are chiefly of wood, seem as if they
have not had a coat of paint for many years ; the
streets are uneven and ill-paved ; and as the stranger
wanders through them, he might fancy that they
would afford a congenial promenade to the man who
is about to take his last leave of surrounding worldly
misery, before he hangs himself. There had been
no rain for some time, so that the parched and
barren pastures near the town might, with great
truth, be called Rosinante’s own. The mules feed¬
ing on them, put you in mind of Ovid’s descrip¬
tion of famine : —
“ Dura cutis, per quam spectari viscera possent.”
It is somewhat singular, that there is not a single
river or brook in the whole island of Antigua. In
this it differs from Tartary in the other world; which,
according to old writers, has five rivers; viz. Ache¬
ron, Phlegeton, Cocytus, Styx, and Lethe.
SOUTH AMERICA.
2GI
In this island I found the Red-start, described in
Wilson’s u Ornithology of the United States.” I
wished to learn whether any of these birds remain
the whole year in Antigua, and breed there; or
whether they all leave it for the north when the sun
comes out of the southern hemisphere ; but, upon
inquiry, I could get no information whatever.
After passing a dull week here, I sailed for Gua-
daloupe, whose bold and cloud-capped mountains
have a grand appearance as you approach the island.
Basseterre, the capital, is a neat town, with a hand¬
some public walk in the middle of it, well shaded by
a row of fine tamarind trees on each side. Behind
the town, La Souffriere raises its high romantic
summit ; and on a clear day, you may see the vol¬
canic smoke which issues from it.
Nearly midway, betwixt Guadaloupe and Domi¬
nica, you descry the Saintes. Though high, and
bold, and rocky, they have still a diminutive appear¬
ance when compared with their two gigantic neigh¬
bours. You just see Marigalante to windward of
them, some leagues off, about a yard high in the
horizon.
Dominica is majestic in high and rugged moun¬
tains. As you sail along it, you cannot help ad¬
miring its beautiful coffee plantations, in places so
abrupt and steep, that you would pronounce them
almost inaccessible. Roseau, the capital, is but a
small town, and has nothing attractive except the
well - known hospitality of the present harbour¬
master, who is particularly attentive to strangers,
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
Island of
Guada¬
loupe.
Island of
Dominica.
Roseau.
262
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
and furnishes them with a world of information
concerning the West Indies. Roseau has seen better
days ; and you can trace good taste and judgment
in the way in which the town has originally been
laid out.
Some years ago it wTas visited by a succession of
misfortunes, which smote it so severely, that it has
never recovered its former appearance. A strong
French fleet bombarded it ; while a raging fire de¬
stroyed its finest buildings. Some time after, ar
overwhelming flood rolled down the gullies and fis¬
sures of the adjacent mountains, and carried all before
it. Men, women, and children, houses, and property,
were all swept away by this mighty torrent. The
terrible scene was said to beggar all description, and
the loss wras immense.
Dominica is famous for a large species of frog,
which the inhabitants keep in readiness to slaughter
for the table. In the wroods of this island, the large
rhinoceros beetle is very common ; it measures above
six inches in length. In the same woods is found
the beautiful humming-bird, the breast and throat of
which are of a brilliant changing purple. I have
searched for this bird in Brazil, and through the
whole of the wilds from the Rio Branco, wrhich is a
branch of the Amazons, to the river Paumaron, but
never could find it. I was told by a man in the
Egyptian-hall, in Piccadilly, that this humming-bird
is found in Mexico ; but upon questioning him more
about it, his information seemed to have been ac¬
quired by hearsay ; and so I concluded that it does
SOUTH AMERICA.
263
not appear in Mexico. I suspect that it is never FOURTH
found out of the Antilles. journey.
After leaving Dominica, you soon reach the grand Martinico.
and magnificent island of Martinico. St. Pierre, its
capital, is a fine town, and possesses every comfort.
The inhabitants seem to pay considerable attention
to the cultivation of the tropical fruits. A stream of
•water runs down the streets with great rapidity, pro¬
ducing a pleasing effect as you pass along.
Here I had an opportunity of examining a cuckoo,
which had just been shot. It was exactly the same
as the metallic cuckoo in Wilson’s “ Ornithology.”
They told me it is a migratory bird in Martinico.
It probably repairs to this island after its departure
from the United States.
At a little distance from Martinico, the celebrated
Diamond Rock rises in insulated majesty out of the
sea. It wras fortified during the last war with France,
and bravely defended by an English captain.
In a few hours from Martinico, you are at St. st. Lucie.
Lucie, whose rough and towering mountains fill you
with sublime ideas, as you approach its rocky shore.
The town Castries is quite embayed. It was literally Castries,
blown to pieces by the fatal hurricane, in which the
unfortunate governor and his lady lost their lives.
Its present forlorn and gloomy appearance, and the
grass which is grown up in the streets, too plainly
show that its hour of joy is passed away ; and that
it is in mourning, as it were, with the rest of the
British West Indies.
From St. Lucie, I proceeded to Barbadoes in quest
of a conveyance to the island of Trinidad.
•264
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY
Barba-
,does.
Slavery.
Near Bridge-town, the capital of Barbadoes, I
saw the metallic cuckoo, already alluded to.
Barbadoes is no longer the merry island it was
when I visited it some years ago : —
“ Infelix habitum, temporis hujus habet.”
There is an old song, to the tune of La Belle
Catharine, which must evidently have been com-
7 v
posed in brighter times : —
“ Come let us dance and sing,
While Barbadoes bells do ring ;
(Juashi scrapes the fiddle-string,
And Venus plays the lute.”
Quashi’s fiddle was silent ; and mute was the lute
of Venus during my stay in Barbadoes. The dif¬
ference betwixt the French and British islands was
very striking. The first appeared happy and con¬
tent ; the second were filled with murmurs and
complaints. The late proceedings in England, con¬
cerning slavery, and the insurrection in Demerara,
had evidently caused the gloom. The abolition of
slavery is a question full of benevolence and fine
feelings, difficulties and danger : —
“ Tantum ne noceas, dum vis prodesse videto.”
It requires consummate prudence, and a vast fund
of true information, in order to draw just conclusions
on this important subject. Phaeton, by awkward
driving, set the world on fire : “ Sylvae cum mon-
tibus ardent.” Daedalus gave his son a pair of
wings without considering the consequence ; the
boy flew out of all bounds, lost his wings, and
tumbled into the sea : —
“ Icarus, Icariis nomina fecit aquis.”
When the old man saw what had happened, he
SOUTH AMERICA.
265
damned his own handicraft in wing-making ; “de- fourth
vovitque suas artes.’ Prudence is a cardinal
virtue : —
“Omnia consulta mente gerenda tegens.”
Foresight is half the battle. u Hombre apercebido,
medio combatido,” says Don Quixote, or Sancho, I
do not remember which. Had queen Bess weighed
well in her own mind the probable consequences of
this lamentable traffic, it is likely she would not have
been owner of two vessels in Sir John Hawkins’s
squadron, which committed the first robbery in negro
flesh on the coast of Africa. As philanthropy is the
very life and soul of this momentous question on
slavery, which is certainly fraught with great diffi¬
culties and danger, perhaps it would be as well at
present for the nation to turn its thoughts to poor
ill-fated Ireland, where oppression, poverty, and
rags make a heart-rending appeal to the feelings of
the benevolent.
But to proceed. There was another thing which
added to the dulness of Barbadoes, and which seemed
to have considerable effect in keeping away strangers
from the island. The legislature had passed a most
extraordinary bill, by virtue of which every person
who arrives at Barbadoes is obliged to pay two
dollars, and two dollars more on his departure from
it. It is called the alien bill ; and every Barbadian
who leaves or returns to the island, and every Eng¬
lishman too, pays the tax !
Finding no vessel here for Trinidad, I embarked Embarks
in a schooner for Demerara, landed there after being rara.
266
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
The
Jacamar.
nearly stranded on a sand-bank, and proceeded
without loss of time to the forests in the interior.
It was the dry season, which renders a residence in
the woods very delightful.
There are three species of jacamar to be found on
the different sand-hills and dry savannas of Deme-
rara ; but there is another much larger and far more
beautiful to be seen when you arrive in that part of
the country where there are rocks. The jacamar
has no affinity to the woodpecker or king-fisher,
(notwithstanding what travellers affirm,) either in its
haunts or anatomy. The jacamar lives entirely on
insects, but never goes in search of them. It sits
patiently for hours together on the branch of a tree,
and when the incautious insect approaches, it flies at
it with the rapidity of an arrow, seizes it, and gene¬
rally returns to eat it on the branch which it had
just quitted. It has not the least attempt at song,
is very solitary, and so tame, that you may get
within three or four yards of it before it takes flight.
The males of all the different species which I have
examined have white feathers on the throat. I
suspect that all the male jacamars hitherto discovered
have this distinctive mark. I could learn nothing
of its incubation. The Indians informed me that
one species of jacamar lays its eggs in the wrood-
ants’ nests, wdiich are so frequent in the trees of
Guiana, and appear like huge black balls. I wish
there had been proof positive of this ; but the breed¬
ing time was over; and in the ants’ nests which I
examined, I could find no marks of birds having
SOUTH AMERICA.
267
ever been in them. Early in January the jacamar fourth
is in fine plumage for the cabinet of the naturalist. - L~
The largest species measures ten inches and a half
from the point of the beak to the end of the tail ; its
name amongst the Indians is Una-waya-adoucati,
that is, grandfather of the jacamar. It is certainly
a splendid bird ; and in the brilliancy and change¬
ableness of its metallic colours, it yields to none of
the Asiatic and African feathered tribe. The colours
of the female are nearly as bright as those of the
male, but she wants the white feathers on the throat.
The large jacamar is pretty common about two hun¬
dred miles up the river Demerara.
Here I had a fine opportunity once more of exa- The
mining the three-toed sloth. He was in the house sloth,
with me for a day or two. Had I taken a description
of him as he lay sprawling on the floor, I should
have misled the world, and injured natural history.
On the ground he appeared really a bungled com¬
position, and faulty at all points ; awkwardness and
misery were depicted on his countenance; and when
I made him advance he sighed as though in pain.
Perhaps it was, that by seeing him thus out of his
element as it were, that the count de Buffon, in his
history of the sloth, asks the question — “Why
should not some animals be created for misery,
since, in the human species, the greatest number of
individuals are devoted to pain from the moment of
their existence?” Were the question put to me, I
would answer, I cannot conceive that any of them
are created for misery. That thousands live in
268
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
The
Gross-
beak.
misery there can be no doubt ; but then, misery
lias overtaken them in their path through life, and
wherever man has come up with them, I should
suppose they have seldom escaped from experiencing
a certain proportion of misery.
After fully satisfying myself that it only leads the
world into error to describe the sloth while he is on
the ground, or in any place except in a tree, I car¬
ried the one I had in my possession to his native
haunts. As soon as he came in contact with the
branch of a tree, all went right with him. I
could see as he climbed up into his own country,
that he was on the right road to happiness ; and
felt persuaded more than ever, that the world has
hitherto erred in its conjectures concerning the sloth,
on account of naturalists not having given a descrip¬
tion of him when he was in the only position in
which he ought to have been described, namely,
clinging to the branch of a tree.
As the appearance of this part of the country
bears great resemblance to Cayenne, and is so near
to it, I was in hopes to have found the Grande
Gobe Mouche of Bulfon, and the septicoloured
Tangara, both of which are common in Cayenne ;
but after many diligent searches, I did not succeed ;
nor could I learn from the Indians that they had
ever seen those two species of birds in these parts.
Here I procured the Gross-beak with a rich scar¬
let body, and black head and throat. Buffon men¬
tions it as coming from America. I had been in
quest of it for years, but could never see it, and con-
SOUTH AMERICA.
269
eluded that it was not to be found in Demerara. FOURTH
This bird is of a greenish brown before it acquires J0URNE-’
its rich plumage.
Amongst the bare roots of the trees, alongside of Procures
this part of the river, a red crab sometimes makes species
of Owl.
its appearance, as you are passing up and down.
It is preyed upon by a large species of owl, which I
was fortunate enough to procure. Its head, back,
wings, and tail, are of so dark a brown, as almost to
appear black. The breast is of a somewhat lighter
brown. The belly and thighs are of a dirty yellow
white. The feathers round the eyes are of the same
dark brown as the rest of the body ; and then comes
a circle of white, which has much the appearance of
the rim of a large pair of spectacles. I strongly
suspect that the dirty yellow white of the belly and
. thighs has originally been pure white ; and that it
has come to its present colour by means of the bird
darting down upon its prey in the mud. But this
is mere conjecture.
Here too, close to the river, I frequently saw the The
bird called Sun-bird by the English colonists, and
Tirana by the Spaniards in the Oroonoque. It is
very elegant ; and in its outward appearance ap¬
proaches near to the heron tribe ; still it does not
live upon fish. Flies and insects are its food ; and
it takes them just as the heron takes fish, by ap¬
proaching near and then striking with its beak at
its prey so quick, that it has no chance to escape.
The beautiful mixture of grey, yellow, green, black,
white, and chestnut in the plumage of this bird,
Sun-bird.
270
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY,
The great
Tinamou.
The small
Tinamou.
baffles any attempt to give a description of the dis¬
tribution of them, which would be satisfactory to the
reader.
There is something remarkable in the great Tina¬
mou, which I suspect has hitherto escaped notice.
It invariably roosts in trees ; but the feet are so very
small in proportion to the body of this bulky bird,
that they can be of no use to it in grasping the
branch ; and, moreover, the hind toe is so short,
that it does not touch the ground when the bird is
walking. The back part of the leg, just below the
knee, is quite flat, and somewhat concave. On it
are strong pointed scales, which are very rough, and
catch your finger as you move it along from the
knee to the toe. Now, by means of these scales,
and the particular flatness of that part of the leg, the
bird is enabled to sleep in safety upon the branch of
a tree.
At the close of day, the great Tinamou gives a
loud, monotonous, plaintive whistle, and then im¬
mediately springs into the tree. By the light of the
full moon, the vigilant and cautious naturalist may
see him sitting in the position already described.
The small Tinamou has nothing that can be called
a tail. It never lays more than one egg, which is
of a chocolate colour. It makes no nest, but merelv
scratches a little hollow in the sand, generally at the
foot of a tree.
Here we have an instance of a bird, the size of a
partridge, and of the same tribe, laying only one
egg, while the rest of the family, from the peahen
SOUTH AMERICA.
271
to the quail, are known to lay a considerable num- FOURTH
ber. The foot of this bird is very small in propor- -
tion, but the back part of the leg bears no resem¬
blance to that of the larger tinamou; hence one
might conclude that it sleeps upon the ground.
Independent of the hollow trees, the vampires
have another hiding-place. They clear out the in¬
side of the large ants’ nests, and then take posses¬
sion of the shell. I had gone about half a day doAvn
the river, to a part of the forest where the wall aba
trees were in great plenty. The seeds had ripened,
and I was in hopes to have got the large scarlet ara,
which feeds on them. But, unfortunately, the time
had passed away, and the seeds had fallen.
While ranging here in the forest, we stopped
under an ants’ nest ; and, by the dirt below, conjec¬
tured that it had got new tenants. Thinking it no
harm to dislodge them, u vi et armis,” an Indian
boy ascended the tree ; but, before he reached the
nest, out flew above a dozen vampires.
I have formerly remarked that I wished to have The
it in my power to say, that I had been sucked by ' ampire*
the vampire. I gave them many an opportunity,
but they always fought shy ; and though they now
sucked a young man of the Indian breed very
severely, as he was sleeping in his hammock in the
shed next to mine, they would have nothing to do
with me. His great toe seemed to have all the at¬
tractions. I examined it minutely as he was bathing
it in the river at daybreak. The midnight surgeon
had made a hole in it, almost of a triangular shape,
272
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
Its teeth.
and the blood was then running from it apace. His
hammock was so defiled and stained with clotted
blood, that he was obliged to beg an old black
woman to wash it. As she was taking it down to
the river side, she spread it out before me, and shook
her head. I remarked, that I supposed her own
toe was too old and tough to invite the Vampire-
doctor to get his supper out of it; and she answered,
with a grin, that doctors generally preferred young
people.
Nobody has yet been able to inform me how it is
that the vampire manages to draw such a large
quantity of blood, generally from the toe, and the
patient, all the time, remains in a profound sleep.
I have never heard of an instance of a man waking
under the operation. On the contrary, he continues
in a sound sleep, and at the time of rising, his eyes
first inform him, that there has been a thirsty thief
on his toe.
The teeth of the vampire are very sharp, and not
unlike those of a rat. If it be that he inflicts the
wound with his teeth, (and he seems to have no
other instruments,) one would suppose that the
acuteness of the pain would cause the person who is
sucked, to awake. We are in darkness in this mat¬
ter ; and I know of no means by which one might
be enabled to throw light upon it. It is to be hoped
that some future wanderer through the wrilds of
Guiana, vTill be more fortunate than I have been,
and catch this nocturnal depredator in the fact. I
have once before mentioned that I killed a vampire
SOUTH AMERICA.
*273
which measured thirty- two inches from wing to wing
extended ; but others, which I have since examined,
have generally been from twenty to twenty-six
inches in dimension.
The large humming-bird, called by the Indians
Karabimiti, invariably builds its nest in the slender
branches of the trees which hang over the rivers and
creeks. In appearance, it is like brown tanned
leather, and without any particle of lining. The
rim of the nest is doubled inwards, and I always
conjectured that it had taken this shape, on account
of the body of the bird pressing against it, while she
was laying her eggs. But this was quite a wrong
conjecture. Instinct has taught the bird to give it
this shape, in order that the eggs may be prevented
from rolling out.
The trees on the river’s bank are particularly ex¬
posed to violent gusts of wind, and while I have
been sitting in the canoe, and looking on, I have
seen the slender branch of the tree which held the
humming-bird’s nest so violently shaken, that the
bottom of the inside of the nest has appeared, and
had there been nothing at the rim to stop the eggs,
they must inevitably have been jerked out into the
water. I suspect the humming-bird never lays
more than two eggs. I never found more than two
in any of the many nests which have come in my
way. The eggs were always white, without any
spots on them.
Probably travellers have erred in asserting that
the monkeys of South America throw sticks and
T
FOURTH
JOURNEY,
The Ka¬
rabimiti.
Monkeys.
274
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
.TOUHNF.Y.
Three
classes of
Monkeys.
fruit at their pursuers. I have had fine opportuni¬
ties of narrowly watching the different species of
monkeys which are found in the wilds, betwixt the
Amazons and the Oroonoque. I entirely acquit
them of acting on the offensive. When the mon¬
keys are in the high trees over your head, the dead
branches will now and then fall down upon you,
having been broken off as the monkeys pass along
them ; but they are never hurled from their hands.
Monkeys commonly so called, both in the old and
new continent, may be classed into three grand
divisions ; namely, the ape, which has no tail what¬
ever; the baboon, which has only a short tail;
and the monkey, which has a long tail. There are
no apes, and no baboons as yet discovered in the
new world. Its monkeys may be very well and
very briefly ranged under two heads ; namely,
those with hairy and bushy tails ; and those whose
tails are bare -of hair underneath, about six inches
from the extremity. Those with hairy and bushy
tails climb just like the squirrel, and make no use of
the tail to help them from branch to branch. Those
which have the tail bare underneath towards the end,
find it of infinite advantage to them, in their ascent
and descent. They apply it to the branch of the
tree, as though it were a supple finger, and fre¬
quently swing by it from the branch like the pendu¬
lum of a clock. It answers all the purposes of a
fifth hand to the monkey, as naturalists have already
observed.
The large red monkey of Demerara is not a
SOUTH AMERICA.
275
baboon, though, it goes by that name, having a long FOURTH
prensile tail.* Nothing can sound more dreadful —
1 p ... The large
than its nocturnal howlings. While lying in your red Mon¬
hammock in these gloomy and immeasurable wilds, Deme-
you hear him howling at intervals, from eleven
o’clock at night till day-break. You would sup¬
pose that half the wild beasts of the forest were
collecting for the work of carnage. Now, it is the
tremendous roar of the jaguar, as he springs on his
prey : now, it changes to his terrible and deep-toned
growlings, as he is pressed on all sides by superior
force ; and now, you hear his last dying moan, be¬
neath a mortal wound.
Some naturalists have supposed that these awful
sounds, which you would fancy are those of enraged
and dying wild beasts, proceed from a number of
the red monkeys howling in concert. One of them
alone is capable of producing all these sounds ; and
the anatomists, on an inspection of lps trachea, will
be fully satisfied that this is the case. When you
look at him, as he is sitting on the branch of a tree,
you will see a lump in his throat, the size of a large
hen’s egg. In dark and cloudy weather, and just
before a squall of rain, this monkey will often howl
in the day-time ; and if you advance cautiously, and
get under the high and tufted tree where he is sitting,
you may have a capital opportunity of witnessing
his wonderful powers of producing these dreadful
and discordant sounds.
* I believe prensile is a new-coined, word. I have seen it, but do not
remember where.
276
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY
Flesh of
the
Monkey.
His flesh is good food; but when skinned, his
: appearance is so like that of a young one of our
own species, that a delicate stomach might possibly
revolt at the idea of putting a knife and fork into it.
However, I can affirm, from experience, that after
a long and dreary march through these remote
forests, the flesh of this monkey is not to be sneezed
at, when boiled in Cayenne pepper, or roasted on a
stick over a good fire. A young one tastes not un¬
like kid, and the old ones have somewhat the flavour
of he-goat.
I mentioned, in a former adventure, that I had
hit upon an entirely new plan of making the skins of
quadrupeds retain their exact form and feature.
Intense application to the subject has, since that
period, enabled me to shorten the process, and hit
the character of an animal to a very great nicety,
even to the preservation of the pouting lip, dimples,
warts, and wrinkles on the face. I got a fine
specimen of the howling monkey ; and took some
pains with it, in order to show the immense differ¬
ence that exists betwixt the features of this monkey,
and those of man.
I also procured an animal which has caused not
a little speculation and astonishment. In my opinion,
his thick coat of hair, and great length of tail, put
his species out of all question ; but then his face and
head cause the inspector to pause for a moment,
before he ventures to pronounce his opinion of the
classification. He was a large animal, and as I was
pressed for daylight, and moreover, felt no inclina-
SOUTH AMERICA.
277
tion to have the whole weight of his body upon my
back, I contented myself with his head and shoulders,
which I cut off : and have brought them with me to
Europe.* I have since found, that I acted quite
right in doing so, having had enough to answer for
the head alone, without saying any thing of his
hands and feet, and of his tail, which is an appen¬
dage, Lord Karnes asserts, belongs to us.
The features of this animal are quite of the Grecian
cast ; and he has a placidity of countenance which
shows that things went well with him when in life.
Some gentlemen of great skill and talent, on inspect¬
ing his head, were convinced that the whole series of
its features has been changed. Others again have
hesitated, and betrayed doubts, not being able to
make up their minds, whether it be possible, that
the brute features of the monkey can be changed into
the noble countenance of man. — “ Scinditur vulgus.”
One might argue at considerable length on this
novel subject : and perhaps, after all, produce little
more than prolix pedantry. “ V ox et prseterea nihil. ”
Let us suppose for an instant, that it is a new
species. Well ; “ Una golondrina no hace verano
one swallow does not make summer, as Sancho
Panza says. Still, for all that, it would be well
worth while going out to search for it ; and these
times of Pasco- Peruvian enterprise are favourable
to the undertaking. Perhaps, gentle readers, you
would wish me to go in quest of another. I would
* My young friend, Mr. J. H. Foljambe, eldest son of Thomas Foljambe,
Esq. of Wakefield, has made a drawing of the head and shoulders of this
animal, (see Frontispiece,) and it is certainly a most correct and striking
likeness of the original.
FOURTH
on RNEY
278
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
beg leave respectfully to answer, that the way is
dubious, long, and dreary; and though, unfortu¬
nately, I cannot allege the excuse of u mepiaconjux
detinet,” still I would fain crave a little repose. I
have already been a long while errant : —
“ Longa mihi exilia, et vastum maris aequor aravi,
Ne mandate mihi, nam ego sum defessus agendo.”
Should any body be induced to go, great and innu¬
merable are the discoveries yet to be made in those
remote wilds ; and should he succeed in bringing
home, even a head alone, with features as perfect as
those of that which I have brought, far from being
envious of him, I should consider him a modern
Alcides, fullv entitled to register a thirteenth labour.
Now if, on the other hand, we argue, that this head
in question has had all its original features destroyed,
and a set of new ones given to it, by what means
has this hitherto unheard-of change been effected ?
N obody in any of our museums has as yet been able
to restore the natural features to stuffed animals ;
and he who has any doubts of this, let him take a
living cat or dog, and compare them with a stuffed
cat or dog in any of the first-rate museums. A
momentary glance of the eye would soon settle his
doubts on this head.
If I have succeeded in effacing the features of a
brute, and putting those of a man in their place, we
might be entitled to say, that the sun of Proteus has
risen to our museums : —
“ Unius hie faciem, facies transformat in omnes ;
k Nunc homo, nunc tigris ; nunc equa, nunc mulier.”
SOUTH AMERICA.
279
If I have effected this, we can now give to one fourth
side of the skin of a man’s face the appearance of - :
eighty years, and to the other side that of blooming
seventeen. We could make the forehead and eyes
serene in youthful beauty, and shape the mouth and
jaws to the features of a malicious old ape. Here
is a new field opened to the adventurous and ex¬
perimental naturalist : I have trodden it up and
down till I am almost weary. To get at it myself
I have groped through an alley, which may be
styled, in the words of Ovid, —
“ Arduus, obliquus, caligine densus opaca.”
I pray thee, gentle reader, let me out awhile.
Time passes on apace ; and I want to take thee to
have a peep at the spots where mines are supposed
to exist in Guiana. As the storv of this singular
head has, probably, not been made out to thy satis¬
faction, perhaps, (I may say it nearly in Corporal
Trim’s words,) on some long and dismal winter’s
evening, but not now, I may tell thee more about it ;
together with that of another head, which is equally
striking.
It is commonly reported, and I think there is no
reason to doubt the fact, that when Demerara and
Essequibo were under the Dutch flag, there were
mines of gold and silver opened near to the river
Essequibo. The miners were not successful in their
undertaking, and it is generally conjectured, that
their failure proceeded from inexperience.
Now, when you ascend the Essequibo, some
280
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
hundred miles above the place where these mines
are said to be found, you get into a high, rocky,
and mountainous country. Here many of the moun¬
tains have a very barren aspect, producing only a
few stinted shrubs, and here and there a tuft of
coarse grass. I could not learn that they have ever
been explored, and at this day their mineralogy is
totally unknown to us. The Indians are so thinly
scattered in this part of the country, that there would
be no impropriety in calling it uninhabited : —
“ Apparent rari errantes in gurgite vasto.”
It remains to be yet learnt, whether this portion
of Guiana be worth looking after, with respect to its
supposed mines. The mining speculations at present
are flowing down another channel. The rage in
England for working the mines of other states has
now risen to such a pitch, that it would' require a
considerable degree of>caution in a mere wanderer
of the woods, in stepping forward to say any thing
that might tend to raise or depress the spirits of the
speculators.
A question or two, however, might be asked.
When the revolted colonies shall have repaired in
some measure the ravages of war, and settled their own
political economy upon a firm foundation, will they
quietly submit to see foreigners carrying away those
treasures which are absolutely part of their own
soil, and which necessity (necessity has no law)
forced them to barter away in their hour of need ?
Now, if it should so happen that the masters of the
SOUTH AMERICA.
281
country begin to repent of their bargain, and become
envious of the riches which foreigners carry off,
many a teasing law might be made, and many a
vexatious enaction might be put in force, that would,
in all probability, bring the speculators into trouble
and disappointment.
Besides this consideration, there is another cir¬
cumstance which ought not to be overlooked. I
allude to the change of masters nearly throughout
the whole of America. It is a curious subject for
the European philosopher to moralize upon, and for
the politician to examine. The more they consider
it, the more they will be astonished. If we may
judge by what has already taken place, we are
entitled to predict, that in a very few years more, no
European banner will be seen to ‘float in any part of
the new world. Let us take a cursory view of it.
England some years ago possessed a large portion
of the present United States. France had Louisiana ;
Spain held the Floridas, Mexico, Darien, Terra
Firma, Buenos Ayres, Paraguay, Chili, Peru, and
California ; and Portugal ruled the whole of Brazil.
All these immense regions are now independent
states. England, to be sure, still has Canada, Nova
Scotia, and a few creeks on the coast of Labrador ;
also a small settlement in Honduras, and the wilds
of Demerara and Essequibo ; and these are all.
France has not a foot of ground, except the forests
of Cayenne. Portugal has lost every province ;
Spain is blockaded in nearly her last citadel ; and
the Dutch flag is only seen in Surinam. Nothing
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
282
WANDERINGS IN
fourth more now remains in Europe of this immense con-
JOCRNEY. , ^ 1 , , ,
tinent, where, but a very few years ago, she reigned
triumphant.
With regard to the West India islands, they may
be considered as the mere outposts of this mammoth
domain. St. Domingo has already shaken off her
old masters, and become a star of observation to the
rest of the sable brethren. The anti-slavery associ¬
ations of England, full of benevolence and activity,
have opened a tremendous battery upon the last
remaining forts, which the lords of the old continent
still hold in the new world ; and, in all probability,
will not cease firing till they shall have caused the
last flag to be struck, of Europe’s late mighty empire
in the transatlantic regions. It cannot well be
doubted, but that the sable hordes in the West Indies
will like to follow good example, whenever they
shall have it in their power to do so.
Now, with St. Domingo as an example before
them, how long will it be before they try to raise
themselves into independent states? And if they
should succeed in crushing us in these our last re¬
maining tenements, I would bet ten to one that none
of the new governments will put on mourning for
our departure out of the new world. We must well
remember, that our own government was taxed with
injustice and oppression by the United States during
their great struggle ; and the British press for years
past has, and is still teeming with every kind of abuse
and unbecoming satire against Spain and Portugal
for their conduct towards the now revolted colonies.
SOUTH AMERICA.
■283
France also comes in for her share of obloquy.
Now, this being the case, will not America at large
wish most devoutly for the day to come when
Europe shall have no more dominion over her?
Will she not say to us, Our new forms of govern¬
ment are very different from your old ones ? We
will trade with you, but we shall always be very
suspicious of you as long as you retain possession
of the Westlndies, which are, as we may say, close to
our door-steads. You must be very cautious how
you interfere with our politics ; for, if we find you
meddling with them, and by that means cause us to
come to loggerheads, we shall be obliged to send
you back to your own homes, three or four thousand
miles across the Atlantic ; and then, with that great
ditch betwixt us, we may hope we shall be good
friends. He who casts his eye on the East Indies,
will there see quite a different state of things. The
conquered districts have merely changed one Euro¬
pean master for another ; and I believe there is no
instance of any portion of the East Indies throwing
off the yoke of the Europeans and establishing a
government of their own.
Ye who are versed in politics, and study the rise
and fall of empires, and know what is good for
civilized man, and what is bad for him, or in other
words, what will make him happy and what will
make him miserable — tell us how comes it that
Europe has lost almost her last acre in the bound¬
less expanse of territory which she so lately pos¬
sessed in the west, and still contrives to hold her
vast property in the extensive regions of the east ?
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
‘284
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
Cocks of
the Rock.
But whither am I going? I find myself on a new
and dangerous path. Pardon, gentle reader, this
sudden deviation. Methinks I hear thee saying to
me, —
“ Tramite quo tendis, majoraque viribus audes.”
I grant that I have erred, but I will do so no more.
In general I avoid politics ; they are too heavy for
me, and I am aware that they have caused the fall
of many a strong and able man ; they require the
shoulders of Atlas to support their weight.
When I was in the rocky mountains of Macou-
shia, in the month of June, 1812, I saw four young
Cocks of the Rock in an Indian’s hut; they had
been taken out of the nest that week. They were
of a uniform dirty brown colour, and by the position
of the young feathers upon the head, you might see
that there would be a crest there when the bird
arrived at maturity. By seeing young ones in the
month of June, I immediately concluded that the old
cock of the rock would be in fine plumage from the
end of November to the beginning of May ; and that
the naturalist, who was in quest of specimens for
his museum, ought to arrange his plans in such a
manner as to be able to get into Macoushia during
these months. However, I find now, that no exact
period can be fixed; for, in December, 1824, an
Indian in the river Demerara gave me a young
cock of the rock not a month old, and it had just
been brought from the Macoushi country. By
having a young specimen at this time of the year,
it puts it out of one’s power to say at what precise time
the old birds are in full plumage. I took it on
SOUTH AMERICA.
285
board a ship with me for England, but it was so fourth
very susceptible of cold that it shivered and died, - —:
three days after wre had passed Antigua.
If ever there should be a great demand for large Indian
supplies of gum elastic, commonly called Indian rubber'
rubber, it may be procured in abundance far away
in the wilds of Demerara and Essequibo.
Some years ago, when I was in the Macoushi An Indian
country, there was a capital trick played upon me
about Indian rubber. It is almost too good to be
left out of these wanderings, and it shows that the
wild and uneducated Indian is not without abilities.
Weary and sick, and feeble through loss of blood,
I arrived at some Indian huts, which were about
two hours distant from the place where the gum
elastic trees grew. After a day and a night’s rest I
went to them, and with my own hands made a fine
ball of pure Indian rubber; it hardened immediately
as it became exposed to the air, and its elasticity was
almost incredible.
While procuring it, exposure to the rain, which
fell in torrents, brought on a return of inflammation
in the stomach, and I wTas obliged to have recourse
again to the lancet, and to use it with an unsparing
hand. I wanted another ball, but was not in a state
the next morning to proceed to the trees. A fine
interesting young Indian observing my eagerness to
have it, tendered his services, and asked two hands-
full of fish-hooks for his trouble.
Off he went, and to my great surprise returned in
a very short time. Bearing in mind the trouble
•286
WANDERINGS IN
FOURTH
JOU RNEY,
and time it had cost me to make a ball, I could
account for this Indian’s expedition in no other
way, except, that being an inhabitant of the forest,
he knew how to go about his work in a much shorter
way than I did. His ball, to be sure, had very
little elasticity in it. I tried it repeatedly, but it
never rebounded a yard high. The young Indian
watched me with great gravity, and when I made
him understand that I expected the ball would
dance better, he called another Indian, who knew a
little English, to assure me that I might be quite
easy on that score. The young rogue, in order to
render me a complete dupe, brought the new moon
to his aid. He gave me to understand that the ball
was like the little moon, which lie pointed to, and
by the time it grew big and old, the ball would
bounce beautifully. This satisfied me, and I gave
him the fish-hooks, which he received without the
least change of countenance.
I bounced the ball repeatedly for two months
after, but I found that it still remained in its infancy.
At last I suspected that the savage (to use a vulgar
phrase) had come Yorkshire over me; and so I
determined to find out how he had managed to take
me in. I cut the ball in two, and then saw what a
taught trick he had played me. It seems he had
chewed some leaves into a lump, the size of a walnut,
and then dipped them in the liquid gum-elastic. It
immediatelv received a coat about as thick as a six-
pence. He then rolled some more leaves round it,
and gave it another coat. He seems to have con-
SOUTH AMERICA.
287
tinned this process, till he made the ball considerably fourth
larger than the one I had procured ; and in order - -
to put his roguery out of all chance of detection, he
made the last and outer coat thicker than a dollar.
This Indian would, no doubt, have thriven well in
some of our great towns.
Finding that the rainy season was coming on, Returns
I left the wilds of Demerara and Essequibo with England,
regret, towards the close of December, 1824; and
reached once more the shores of England, after a
long and unpleasant passage.
Ere we part, kind reader, I could wish to draw a Conciud-
• • • • — ingf rc-
little of thy attention to the instructions which are marks,
to be found at the end of this book. Twenty years
have now rolled away, since I first began to examine
the specimens of zoology in our museums. As the
system of preparation is founded in error, nothing
but deformity, distortion, and disproportion, will be
the result of the best intentions, and utmost exertions
of the workman. Canova’s education, taste, and
genius enabled him to present to the world statues
so correct and beautiful, that they are worthy of
universal admiration. Had a common stone-cutter
tried his hand upon the block, out of which these
statues were sculptured, what a lamentable want of
symmetry and fine countenance there would have
been. Now, when we reflect that the preserved
specimens in our museums, and private collections,
are always done upon a wrong principle, and gene¬
rally by low and illiterate people, whose daily bread
depends upon the shortness of time in which they
288
WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA.
FOURTH
JOURNEY.
can get through their work ; and whose opposition
to the true way of preparing specimens can only
be surpassed by their obstinacy in adhering to the
old method; can we any longer wonder at their
want of success ; or hope to see a single specimen
produced that will be worth looking at ? With this
I conclude, hoping that thou hast received some
information, and occasionally had a smile upon thy
countenance, while perusing these u Wanderings
and begging, at the same time, to add, that,
Well I know thy penetration
Many a stain and blot will see,
In the languid long narration,
Of my sylvan errantry. *
For the pen too oft was weary,
In the wandering writer’s hand,
As he roved through deep and dreary
Forests, in a distant land.
Show thy mercy, gentle reader,
Let him not entreat in vain ;
It will be his strength’s best feeder,
Should he ever go again.
And who knows how soon, complaining
Of a cold and wifeless home,
He may leave it, and again in
Equatorial regions roam.
C. W.
ON
PRESERVING BIRDS
FOR
CABINETS OF NATURAL HISTORY.
Were you to pay as much attention to birds, as the Preserving
sculptor does to the human frame, you would imme- -
diately see, on entering a museum, that the specimens
are not well done.
This remark will not be thought severe, when you
reflect that, — that which once was a bird, has pro¬
bably been stretched, stuffed, stiffened, and wired by
the hand of a common clown. Consider, likewise,
how the plumage must have been disordered, by too
much stretching or drying, and perhaps sullied, or
at least deranged, by the pressure of a coarse and
heavy hand, — plumage which, ere life had fled from
within it, was accustomed to be touched by nothing
rougher than the dew of heaven, and the pure and
gentle breath of air. <■
In dissecting, three things are necessary to ensure Dissect-
success ; viz. a penknife, a hand not coarse or mg'
clumsy, and practice. The first will furnish you
u
290
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
Preserving with the means ; the second will enable you to dissect ;
Birds.
■ - - and the third cause you to dissect well. These may
be called the mere mechanical requisites,
stuffing. In stuffing, you require cotton, a needle and thread,
a little stick, the size of a common knitting-needle,
glass eyes, a solution of corrosive sublimate, and
any kind of a common temporary box to hold the
specimen. These also may go under the same de¬
nomination as the former. But if you wish to excel
in the art, if you wish to be in ornithology, what
Angelo was in sculpture, you must apply to pro¬
found study, and your own genius to assist you.
And these may be called the scientific requisites.
Requisite You must have a complete knowledge of orni-
thorougii thological anatomy. You must pay close attention
of onSse to the form and attitude of the bird, and know
Anatomy! exactly the proportion each curve, or extension, or
contraction, or expansion of any particular part
bears to the rest of the body. In a word, you
must possess Promethean boldness, and bring down
fire, and animation, as it were, into your preserved
specimen.
Examine Repair to the haunts of birds, on plains and
the econo- . • r* . i i i i •
my of the mountains, forests, swamps, and lakes, and give up
birds.*’ 0t your time to examine the economy of the different
orders of birds.
Then you will place your eagle, in attitude com¬
manding, the same as Nelson stood in, in the day of
battle, on the Victory’s quarter-deck. Your pie will
seem crafty, and just ready to take flight, as though
fearful of being surprised in some mischievous
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
291
plunder. Your sparrow will retain its wonted pert- Preserving
ness, by means of placing his tail a little elevated, - —
and giving a moderate arch to the neck. Your
vulture will show his sluggish habits, by having his
body nearly parallel to the earth ; his wings some¬
what drooping, and their extremities under the tail,
instead of above it, — expressive of ignoble indolence.
Your dove will be in artless, fearless innocence;
looking mildly at you, with its neck, not too much,
stretched, as if uneasy in its situation ; or drawn too
close into the shoulders, like one wishing to avoid a
discovery ; but in moderate, perpendicular length,
supporting the head horizontally, which will set off
the breast to the best advantage. And the breast
ought to be conspicuous, and have this attention paid
to it ; for when a young lady is sweet and gentle in
her manners ; kind and affable to those around her;
when her eyes stand in tears of pity for the woes of
others, and she puts a small portion of what Provi¬
dence has blessed her with into the hand of imploring
poverty and hunger, then wre say, she has the breast
of a turtle dove.
You will observe how beautifullv the feathers of The
J . feathers.
a bird are arranged ; one falling over the other in
nicest order ; and that, where this charming harmony
is interrupted, the defect, though not noticed by an
ordinary spectator, will appear immediately to the
eye of a naturalist. Thus, a bird not wounded, and
in perfect feather, must be procured if possible ; for
the loss of feathers can seldom be made good ; and
where the deficiency is great, all the skill of the
U 2
292
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
Preserving artist will avail him little in his attempt to conceal
Birds.
the defect ; because, in order to hide it, he must con¬
tract the skin, bring down the upper feathers, and
shove in the lower ones, which would throw all the
surrounding parts into contortion.
You will also observe, that the whole of the skin
does not produce feathers, and that it is very tender
where the feathers do not grow. The bare parts are
admirably formed for expansion about the throat and
stomach ; and they fit into the different cavities of
the body at the wings, shoulders, rump, and thighs,
with wonderful exactness ; so that in stuffing the
bird, if you make an even rotund surface of the skin,
where these cavities existed, in lieu of reforming
them, all symmetry, order, and proportion are lost
for ever.
You must lay it down as an absolute rule, that
the bird is to be entirely skinned, otherwise you
can never succeed in forming a true and pleasing
specimen.
You will allow this to be just, after reflecting
a moment on the nature of the fleshy parts and
tendons, which are often left in : 1st, they require
to be well seasoned with aromatic spices ; 2dly,
they must be put into the oven to dry; 3dly, the
heat of the fire and the natural tendency all cured
flesh has to shrink, and become hard, render the
specimen withered, distorted, and too small ; 4thly,
the inside then becomes like a ham, or any other
dried meat. Ere long the insects claim it as
their own ; the feathers begin to drop off, and
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
*293
you have the hideous spectacle of death in ragged Preserving
, Birds.
plumage. -
Wire is of no manner of use, but, on the contrary,
a great nuisance ; for where it is introduced, a dis¬
agreeable stiffness and derangement of symmetry
follow.
The head and neck can be placed in any attitude,
the body supported, the wings closed, extended or
elevated, the tail depressed, raised or expanded, the
thighs set horizontal or oblique, without any aid from
wire. Cotton will effect all this.
A veiy small proportion of the skull bone, say,
from the forepart of the eyes to the bill, is to be left
in ; though even this is not absolutely necessary.
Part of the wing-bones, the jaw-bones, and half of
the thigh-bones, remain. Every thing else, flesh,
fat, eyes, bones, brains, and tendons, are all to be
taken away.
While dissecting, it will be of use to keep in General
mind, — That, in taking off the skin from the body, ^onl"
by means of your fingers and a little knife, you
must try to shove it, in lieu of pulling it, lest you
stretch it.
That, you must press as lightly as possible on the
bird, and every now and then take a view of it, to
see that the feathers, &c. are all right.
That, when you come to the head, you must take
care that the body of the skin rests on your knee ;
for if you allow it to dangle from your hand, its own
weight will stretch it too much.
©
That, throughout the whole operation, as fast as
294
ON PRESERVING BIKES.
Preserving you detach the skin from the body, you must put
- — cotton immediately betwixt the body and it ; and
this will effectually prevent any fat, blood, or moisture
from coming in contact with the plumage. Here it
may be observed that, on the belly you find an inner
skin, which keeps the bowels in their place. By a
nice operation with the knife, you can cnt through
the outer skin, and leave the inner skin whole. At¬
tention to this will render your work very clean ; so
that, with a little care in other parts, you may skin
a bird without even soiling your finger ends.
As you can seldom get a bird without shooting
it, a line or two on this head will be necessary.
If the bird be still alive, press it hard wTith your
finger and thumb, just behind the wings, and it
will soon expire. Carry it by the legs, and . then
the body being reversed, the blood cannot escape
down the plumage through the shot holes. As
blood will often have issued out before you have
laid hold of the bird, find out the shot holes, by
dividing the feathers with your fingers, and blowing
on them, and then, with your penknife, or the leaf
of a tree, carefully remove the clotted blood, and
put a little cotton on the hole. If, after all, the
plumage has not escaped the marks of blood ; or if
it has imbibed slime from the ground, wash the part
in water, without soap, and keep gently agitating
the feathers, with your fingers, till they are quite
dry. Were you to wash them, and leave them to
dry by themselves, they would have a very mean
and shrivelled appearance.
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
295
In the act of skinning a bird, you must either
have it upon a table, or upon your knee. Probably,
you will prefer your knee ; because when you cross
one knee over the other, and have the bird upon the
uppermost, you can raise it to your eye, or lower it,
at pleasure, by means of the foot on the ground, and
then your knee will always move in unison with your
body, by which much stooping will be avoided and
lassitude prevented.
With these precautionary hints in mind, we will
now proceed to dissect a bird. Suppose we take a
hawk. The little birds will thank us, with a song
for his death, for he has oppressed them sorely ; and
in size he is just the thing. His skin is also pretty
tough, and the feathers adhere to it.
We will put close by us a little bottle of the solu¬
tion of corrosive sublimate in alcohol ; also a stick
like a common knitting needle, and a handful or
two of cotton. Now fill the mouth and nostrils of
the bird with cotton, and place it upon your knee on
its back, with its head pointing to your left shoulder.
Take hold of the knife with your two first fingers
and thumb, the edge upwards. You must not keep
the point of the knife perpendicular to the body of
the bird ; because, were you to hold it so, you would
cut the inner skin of the belly, and thus let the
bowels out. To avoid this, let your knife be parallel
to the body, and then you will divide the outer skin
with o^reat ease.
Begin on the belly below the breast-bone, and cut
down the middle, quite to the vent. This done, put
Preserving
Birds.
Act of
skinning
the bird.
296
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
Preserving the bird in any convenient position, and separate
■ - — the skin from the body, till you get at the middle
joint of the thigh. Cut it through, and do nothing
more there at present, except introducing cotton all
the way on that side, from the vent to the breast¬
bone. Do exactly the same on the opposite side.
Now place the bird perpendicular, its breast resting
on your knee, with its back towards you. Separate
the skin from the body on each side at the vent, and
never mind at present the part from the vent to the
root of the tail. Bend the tail gently dowm to the
back, and while your finger and thumb are keeping
down the detached parts of the skin on each side of
the vent, cut quite across, and deep, till you see the
back-bone, near the oil-gland at the root of the tail.
Sever the back-bone at the joint, and then you have
all the root of the tail, together with the oil-gland,
dissected from the body. Apply plenty of cotton.
After this, seize the end of the back-bone with
your finger and thumb : and now you can hold up
the bird clear of your knee, and turn it round and
round, as occasion requires. While you are holding
it thus, contrive, with the help of your other hand and
knife, by cutting and shoving, to get the skin pushed
up till you come to where the wing joins on to the
body.
Forget not to apply cotton ; cut this joint through ;
do the same at the other wing, add cotton, and
gently push the skin over the head ; cut out the
roots of the ears, which lie very deep in the head,
and continue skinning till you reach the middle of
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
297
the eye ; cut the nictitating membrane quite through, Preserving
otherwise you would tear the orbit of the eye ; and — — —
after this, nothing difficult intervenes to prevent your
arriving at the root of the bill.
When this is effected, cut away the body, leaving
a little bit of skull, just as much as will reach to the
forepart of the eye; clean well the jaw-bones, fasten
a little cotton at the end of your stick, dip it into the
solution, and touch the skull and corresponding part
of the skin, as you cannot well get to these places
afterwards. From the time of pushing the skin
over the head, you are supposed to have the bird
resting upon your knee ; keep it there still, and with
great caution and tenderness return the head through
the inverted skin, and when you see the beak ap¬
pearing, pull it very gently till the head comes out
unruffled and unstained.
You may now take the cotton out of the mouth ;
cut away all the remaining flesh at the palate, and
whatever may have remained at the under jaw.
Here is now before you the skin, without loss of
any feathers, and all the flesh, fat, and uncleaned
bones out of it, except the middle joint of the wings,
one bone of the thighs, and fleshy root of the tail.
The extreme point of the wing is very small, and
has no flesh on it, comparatively speaking, so that
it requires no attention, except touching it with the
solution from the outside. Take all the flesh from
the remaining joint of the wing, and tie a thread
about four inches long to the end of it ; touch all
with the solution, and put the wing bone back into
*298
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
Preserving its place. In baring this bone you must by no
means pull the skin ; you would tear it to pieces
beyond all doubt, for the ends of the long feathers
are attached to the bone itself ; you must push off
the skin with your thumb-nail and forefinger. Now
skin the thigh quite to the knee ; cut away all flesh
and tendons, and leave the bone : form an artificial
thigh round it with cotton ; apply the solution, and
draw back the skin over the artificial thigh : the
same to the other thigh.
Lastly, proceed to the tail ; take out the inside of
the oil-gland, remove all the remaining flesh from
the root, till you see the ends of the tail feathers ;
give it the solution and replace it. Now take out
all the cotton which you have been putting into the
body from time to time to preserve the feathers, from
grease and stains. Place the bird upon your knee
on its back ; tie together the two threads which you
had fastened to the end of the wing joints, leaving
exactly the same space betwixt them as your know¬
ledge in anatomy informs you existed there when the
bird was entire ; hold the skin open with your finger
and thumb, and apply the solution to every part of
the inside. Neglect the head and neck at present ;
they are to receive it afterwards.
Fill the body moderately with cotton, lest the
feathers on the belly should be injured whilst you
are about the following operation. You must recol¬
lect that half of the thigh, or in other words, one
joint of the thigh bone, has been cut away. Now,
as this bone never moved perpendicular to the body,
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
299
but on the contrary in an oblique direction, of course,
as soon as it is cut off, the remaining part of the
thigh and leg, having nothing now to support them
obliquely, must naturally fall to their perpendicular.
Hence the reason why the legs appear considerably
too long. To correct this, take your needle and
thread, fasten the end round the bone inside, and
then push the needle through the skin just opposite
to it. Look on the outside, and after finding the
needle amongst the feathers, tack up the thigh under
the wing with several strong stitches. This will
shorten the thigh, and render it quite capable of
supporting the weight of the body without the help
of wire. This done, take out every bit of cotton,
except the artificial thighs, and adjust the wing
bones (which are connected by the thread) in the
most even manner possible, so that one joint does not
appear to lie lower than the other ; for unless they
are quite equal, the wings themselves will be unequal,
when you come to put them in their proper attitude.
Here then rests the shell of the poor hawk, ready to
receive, from your skill and judgment, the size, the
shape, the features and expression it had, ere death,
and your dissecting hand, brought it to its present
still and formless state. The cold hand of death
stamps deep its mark upon the prostrate victim.
When the heart ceases to beat, and the blood no
longer courses through the veins, the features col¬
lapse, and the whole frame seems to shrink within
itself. If then you have formed your idea of the
real appearance of the bird from a dead specimen,
you will be in error. With this in mind, and at the
Preserving
Birds.
300
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
Preserving same time forming your specimen a trifle larger than
- — life, to make up for what it will lose in drying, you
will reproduce a bird that will please you.
It is now time to introduce the cotton for an
artificial body, by means of the little stick like a
knitting needle ; and without any other aid or sub¬
stance than that of this little stick and cotton, your
own genius must produce those swellings and cavi¬
ties, that just proportion, that elegance and harmony
of the whole so much admired in animated nature,
so little attended to in preserved specimens. After
you have introduced the cotton, sew up the orifice
you originally made in the belly, beginning at the
vent. And from time to time, till you arrive at the
last stitch, keep adding a little cotton, in order that
there may be no deficiency there. Lastly, dip your
stick into the solution, and put it down the throat three
or four times, in order that every part may receive it.
When the head and neck are filled with cotton
quite to your liking, close the bill as in nature.
A little bit of bees’ wax at the point of it, will
keep the mandibles in their proper place. A
needle must be stuck into the lower mandible per¬
pendicularly. You will shortly see the use of it.
Bring also the feet together by a pin, and then run
a thread through the knees, by which you may draw
them to each other, as near as you judge proper.
Nothing now remains to be added but the eyes.
With your little stick make a hollow in the cotton
within the orbit, and introduce the glass eyes through
the orbit. Adjust the orbit to them, as in nature,
and that requires no other fastener.
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
301
Your close inspection of the eyes of animals, will Preserving
already have informed you, that the orbit is capable - —
of receiving a much larger body than that part of
the eye which appears within it when in life. So
that, were you to proportion your eye to the size the
orbit is capable of receiving, it would be far too
large. Inattention to this, has caused the eyes of
every specimen, in the best cabinets of natural
history, to be out of all proportion. To prevent
this, contract the orbit, by means of a very small
delicate needle and thread, at that part of it farthest
from the beak. This may be done with such nicety,
that the stitch cannot be observed ; and thus you
have the artificial eye in true proportion.
After this, touch the bill, orbits, feet, and former
oil-gland at the root of the tail, with the solution,
and then you have given to the hawk every thing
necessary, except attitude, and a proper degree of
elasticity, two qualities very essential.
Procure any common ordinary box, fill one end
of it, about three-fourths up to the top, with cotton,
forming a sloping plane. Make a moderate hollow
in it to receive the bird. Now take the hawk in
your hands, and, after putting the wings in order,
place it in the cotton, with its legs in a sitting pos¬
ture. The head will fall down. Never mind.
Get a cork, and run three pins into the end, just
like a three-legged stool. Place it under the bird’s
bill, and run the needle, which you formerly fixed
there, into the head of the cork. This will support
the bird’s head admirably. If you wish to lengthen
302
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
pmserving the neck, raise the cork, by putting more cotton
under it. If the head is to be brought forward,
bring the cork nearer to the end of the box. If it
requires to be set backwards on the shoulders, move
back the cork.
As in drying, the back part of the neck will shrink
more than the fore part, and thus throw the beak
higher than you wish it to be, putting you in mind
of a stargazing horse, prevent this fault, by tying a
thread to the beak, and fastening it to the end of
the box with a pin or needle. If you choose to
elevate the wings, do so, and support them with
cotton ; and should you wish to have them parti¬
cularly high, apply a little stick under each wing,
and fasten the end of them to the side of the box
with a little bees’ wax.
If you would have the tail expanded, reverse the
order of the feathers, beginning from the two middle
ones. When dry, replace them in their true order,
and the tail will preserve for ever the expansion you
have given it. Is the crest to be erect ? move the
feathers in a contrary direction to that in which they
lie, for a day or two, and it will never fall down
after.
Place the box any where in your room, out of the
influence of the sun, wind and fire ; for the speci¬
men must dry very slowly, if you wish to reproduce
every feature. On this account, the solution of
corrosive sublimate is uncommonly serviceable $ for
at the same time that it totally prevents putrefaction,
it renders the skin moist and flexible for many days.
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
303
While the bird is drying, take it out, and replace it
in its position once every day. Then if you see that
any part begins to shrink into disproportion, you
can easily remedy it.
The small covert feathers of the wings are apt to
rise a little, because the skin will come in contact
writh the bone which remains in the wing. Pull
gently the part that rises, with your finger and thumb,
for a day or two. Press the feathers down. The
skin will adhere no more to the bone, and they will
cease to rise.
Every now and then touch and retouch all the
different parts of the features, in order to render
them distinct and visible, correcting at the same
time any harshness, or unnatural risings, or sinkings,
flatness, or rotundity. This is putting the last
finishing; hand to it.
In three or four davs the feet lose their natural
«/
elasticity, and the knees begin to stiffen. When
you observe this, it is time to give the legs any angle
you wish, and arrange the toes for a standing posi¬
tion, or curve them to your finger. If you wish to
set the bird on a branch, bore a little hole under
each foot, a little way up the leg ; and having fixed
two proportional spikes on the branch, you can, in
a moment, transfer the bird from your finger to
it, and from it to your finger, at pleasure.
When the bird is quite dry, pull the thread out of
the knees, take away the needle, &c. from under the
bill, and all is done. In lieu of being stiff with
wires, the cotton will have given a considerable
Preserving
Birds
304
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
Pfftsei-vmg elasticity to every part of your bird ; so that, when
- perching on your finger, if you press it down with
the other hand, it will rise again. You need not
fear that your hawk will alter, or its colours fade.
The alcohol has introduced the sublimate into eveiy
part and pore of the skin, quite to the roots of
the feathers. Its use is two-fold. 1st. It has
totally prevented all tendency to putrefaction ; and
thus a sound skin has attached itself to the roots of
the feathers. You may take hold of a single one,
and from it suspend five times the weight of the
bird. You may jerk it ; it will still adhere to the
skin, and, after repeated trials, often break short.
2dly. As no part of the skin has escaped receiving
particles of sublimate contained in the alcohol,
there is not a spot exposed to the depredation of
insects ; for they will never venture to attack any
substance which has received corrosive sublimate.
You are aware that corrosive sublimate is the
most fatal poison to insects that is known. It is
antiputrescent; so is alcohol; and they are both
colourless, of course they cannot leave a stain
behind them. The spirit penetrates the pores of
the skin with wonderful velocity, deposits invisible
particles of the sublimate, and flies off. The subli¬
mate will not injure the skin, and nothing can
detach it from the parts where the alcohol has
left it.*
* All the feathers require to be touched with the solution, in order
that they may be preserved from the depredation of the moth. The
surest way of proceeding is, to immerse the bird in the solution of corro¬
sive sublimate, and then dry it before you begin to dissect it.
ON PRESERVINCx BIRDS.
305
Furs of animals, immersed in this solution, will Preserving
retain their pristine brightness and durability in -
any climate.
Take the finest curled feather from a lady’s head,
dip it in the solution, and shake it gently till it be
dry ; you will find that the spirit will fly off in a
few minutes, not a curl in the feather will be injured,
and the sublimate will preserve it from the depreda¬
tion of the insect.
Perhaps it may be satisfactory to add here, that,
some years ago, I did a bird upon this plan in
Demerara. It remained there two years. It was
then conveyed to England, where it staid five
months, and returned to Demerara. After being
four years more there, it was conveyed back again
through the West Indies to England, where it has
now been near five years, unfaded and unchanged.
On reflecting that this bird has been twice in the
temperate and torrid zone, and remained some years
in the hot and humid climate of Demerara, only six
degrees from the line, and where almost every thing
becomes a prey to the insect, and that it is still as
sound and bright as when it was first done, it will
not be thought extravagant to surmise, that this
specimen will retain its pristine form and colours
for years after the hand that stuffed it has mouldered
into dust.
I have shown this art to the naturalists in Brazil,
Cayenne, Demerara, Oroonoque, and Rome, and
to the royal cabinets of Turin and Florence. A
severe accident prevented me from communicating
x
306
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
Preserving it to the cabinet of Paris, according to my promise.
— — 1 — A word or two more, and then we will conclude.
A little time and experience will enable you to
produce a finished specimen. “ Mox similis volucri,
mox vera volucris.” If your early performance
should not correspond with your expectations,
do not let that cast you down. You cannot be¬
come an adept all at once. The poor hawk itself,
which you have just been dissecting, waited to be
hedged before it durst rise on expanded pinion ; and
had parental aid, and frequent practice, ere it could
soar with safety and ease beyond the sight of man.
Little more remains to be added, except that what
has been penned down with regard to birds, may be
applied, in some measure, to serpents, insects, and
four-footed animals.
Should you find these instructions too tedious,
let the wish to give you every information plead in
their defence. They might have been shorter : but
Horace says, by labouring to be brief you become
obscure.
If, by their means, you should be enabled to pro¬
cure specimens from foreign parts in better preserva¬
tion than usual, so that the naturalist may have it
in his power to give a more perfect description of
them than has hitherto been the case ; should they
cause any unknown species to be brought into pub¬
lic view, and thus add a little more to the page of
natural history, it will please me much. But should
they, unfortunately, tend to cause a wanton expense
of life ; should they tempt you to shoot the pretty
ON PRESERVING BIRDS.
307
songster warbling near your door, or destroy the Preserving
mother, as she is sitting on the nest to warm her - ~
little ones ; or kill the father, as he is bringing a
mouthful of food for their support ; — Oh, then ! —
deep indeed will be the regret that I ever wrote
them.
Adieu,
Charles Waterton.
finis.
Rickard, Clay-, Printer , Biead-street-hill, London.
Thomas Fisher
Rare Book Library
UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11