On the 8th of February we set off at sunrise to cross Higuerote, a group of tall mountains separating the valleys of Caracas and Aragua. Descending the woody slopes of Higuerote towards the south-west we reached the small village of San Pedro, 584 toises high, located in a basin where several valleys meet. Banana trees, potatoes and coffee grow there. In an inn (pulpería) we met several European Spaniards working at the Tobacco Office. Their bad temper contrasted with our mood. Tired by the route, they vented their anger by cursing the wretched country ('estas tierras infelices') where they were doomed to live, while we never wearied of admiring the wild scenery, the fertile earth and mild climate. From Las Lagunetas we descended into the Toy river valley. This western slope is called Las Cocuyzas, and is covered with two plants with agave leaves; the maguey of Cocuzza and the maguey of Cocuy. The latter belongs to the Yucca genus. Its sweet fermented juice is distilled into an alcohol, and I have seen people eat its young green leaves. The fibers of the full-grown leaves are made into extremely long cords. At Caracas cathedral a maguey cord has suspended the weight of a 350-pound clock for fifteen years. We spent two very agreeable days at the plantation of Don José de Manterola who, when young, had been attached to the Spanish Legation in Russia. Brought up and protected by Sr de Xavedra, one of the more enlightened administrators in Caracas, de Manterola wanted to leave for Europe when that famous man became minister. The governor of the province, fearing de Manterola's prestige, arrested him in the harbor and when the order from Spain finally arrived to release him from such an unjust arrest the minister had fallen from grace.

After two hours' navigation we reached the mouth of the Tomo and the small mission of Davipe, founded in 1755 by an army lieutenant, and not by monks. Father Morillo, the missionary on the spot, with whom we stayed a few hours, received us with great hospitality, and even offered us some Madeira wine. As far as luxury foods go we would have preferred wheat bread; the absence of bread is felt far more over a long time than any alcoholic drink. Every now and then the Portuguese bring small quantities of Madeira wine to the Río Negro. But the word madera in Spanish means 'wood', so some monks, poorly versed in geography, were reluctant to celebrate mass with Madeira wine; they took it for a fermented liquor from some local tree, like palm-tree wine, and asked the superior of their order to decide if the vino de Madera was in fact a wine made from grapes or the sweet juice from a tree (de algún palo). Already, from the beginning of the conquest, the question of whether priests could celebrate mass with another fermented liquor similar to wine had been raised. The question, predictably, was decided negatively.

The savannah we crossed to reach the Indian village of Santa Cruz is - made up of various very flat plateaux lying one above another. This geological phenomenon seems to show that they were once basins where water poured from one to the other. On the spot where we last saw the limestone of the Santa María jungle we found nodules of iron ore, and, if I was not mistaken, a bit of ammonite, but we could not detach it. The Santa Cruz mission is situated in the middle of the plain. We reached it as night fell, half dead with thirst as we had been eight hours without water. We spent the night in one of those ajupas known as 'kings' houses', which serve as tambos or inns for travelers. As it was raining there was no chance of making any astronomical observations so, on the next day, the 23rd of September, we set off for the Gulf of Cariaco. Beyond Santa Cruz thick jungle reappears. Under tufts of melastoma we found a beautiful fern, with leaves similar to the osmunda, which belonged to a new genus (Polybotria) of the polypodiaceous order.

Lake Valencia, called Tacarigua by the Indians, is larger than Lake Neuchâtel in Switzerland; its general form resembles Lake Geneva, situated at about the same altitude. Its opposite banks are notably different: the southern one is deserted, stripped of vegetation and virtually uninhabited; a curtain of high mountains gives it a sad, monotonous quality; in contrast, the northern side is pleasant and rural, and has rich plantations of sugar cane, coffee and cotton. Paths bordered with cestrum, azedaracs, and other perpetually flowering shrubs cross the plain and link the isolated farms. All the houses are surrounded by trees. The ceiba (Bombax hibiscifolius), with large yellow flowers, and the erythrina, with purple ones, whose overlapping branches give the countryside its special quality. During the season of drought, when a thick mist floats above the burning ground, artificial irrigation keeps the land green and wild. Every now and then granite blocks pierce through the cultivated ground; large masses of rocks rise up in the middle of the valley. Some succulent plants grow in its bare and cracked walls, preparing mould for the coming centuries. Often a fig tree, or a clusia with fleshy leaves, growing in clefts, crowns these isolated little summits With their dry withered branches they look like signals along a cliff. The shape of these heights betrays the secret of their ancient origins; for when the whole valley was still submerged and waves lapped the foot of the Mariara peaks (El Rincòn del Diablo) and the coastal chain, these rocky hills were shoals and islands.