We will not continue to describe in detail the local changes produced by the different earthquakes of Cumana. In order to follow our original plan we shall try to generalize our ideas, and include in one section everything that relates to these frightening and difficult-to- explain phenomena. If men of science who visit the Alps of Switzerland or the coasts of Lapland should broaden our knowledge about glaciers and the aurora borealis, then a traveler who has journeyed through Spanish America should mainly fix his attention on volcanoes and earthquakes. Every part of the earth merits particular study. When we cannot hope to guess the causes of natural phenomena, we ought at least to try to discover their laws and, by comparing numerous facts, distinguish what is permanent and constant from what is variable and accidental.

Because there are no records kept in Cumana, and thanks to the persistent destructive activity of the termites, the white ants, no documents older than 150 years remain in the archives, thus making it hard to know the exact dates for the earlier earthquakes. We know only that 1766 was most fatal for the settlers and most remarkable for the natural history of the country. There had been a drought for over fifteen months when on the 21st of October 1766 the city of Cumana was completely destroyed. Every year that date is celebrated by a religious service and a solemn procession. All the houses collapsed in a few minutes, and every hour for fourteen months tremors were felt. In several areas in the province the earth opened up and vomited out sulphurous water. During 1766 and 1767 the Cumana inhabitants camped out in the streets and began rebuilding only when the tremors slowed down to a few a month. While the earth continually rocked it felt as if the air was about to dissolve into water. Formidable rainstorms swelled the river; the year was extraordinarily fertile, and the Indians, whose frail shacks survive the most violent earthquakes, celebrated with dances of joy following an ancient superstition about the destruction of the old world and the birth of a new one.

The jungle between Javita and Caìo Pimichín holds a quantity of gigantic trees: ocoteas, laurels, curvana, jacio, iacifate, with a red wood like Brazil-wood, guamufate, the Amyris caraìa and the mani. All these trees top 100 feet. As their trunks throw out branches more than 100 feet high we had trouble getting flowers and leaves. Though the ground was strewn with foliage we could not rely on the Indians to tell us from which tree or liana they came. In the midst of such natural riches, our herborizations caused us more regret than satisfaction. What we managed to collect seemed without interest in comparison with what we might have collected. It rained without a break for several months and Bonpland lost the greater part of the specimens he had dried with artificial heat. Usually Indians name trees by chewing the bark. They distinguish leaves better than flowers or fruit. Busy in locating timber for canoes they are inattentive to flowers. 'None of those tall trees have flowers or fruit, they continually repeated. Like the botanists of antiquity, they denied what they had not bothered to observe. Tired by our questions they, in turn, made us impatient.

Among the Indians gathered at Pararuma we found some whites who had come from Angostura to buy turtle butter. After wearying us with their complaints about the 'poor harvest' and about the harm done by the jaguars as the turtles laid their eggs, they led us under an ajupa raised in the middle of the Indian camp. There we found the missionary monks from Carichana and the cataracts sitting on the ground playing cards and smoking tobacco in long pipes. These poor priests received us in a very friendly manner. They had been suffering from tertiary fever for months. Pale and emaciated, they had no trouble convincing us that the countries we were about to visit were dangerous for our health.

May 5th. We set off on foot following our boat, which had reached Caìo Pimichín by portage. We had to wade through numerous streams. This journey demands caution because water snakes teem in the marshes. Indians pointed out tracks in the wet clay left by the small black bears that are so common on the Temi banks. They are different in size from the Ursus americanus: missionaries call them oso carnicero to differentiate them from the oso palmero or tamanoir Myrmecophaga jubata) and the oso hormiguero or tamandua ant-eater. Two of these animals, which are good to eat, defend themselves by rising up on to their hind legs. Buffon's tamanoir is called uaraca by the Indians: they are irascible and brave, which is strange given that they are without teeth. As we advanced we came across some accessible clearings in the jungle. We picked new species of coffea, a Galega piscatorum, which Indians use like the jacquinia, and a composite plant of the Temi river, as a kind of barbasco to stun fish; and a large liana known locally as bejuco de mavacure, which gives the famous curare poison.

Despite the small size of our boat, and the boasted skill of our pilot, we often ran aground. The bottom was soft so there was no danger of sinking. At sunset we preferred to lie at anchor. The first night was beautifully serene, with countless shooting stars all falling in the same direction. This area is completely deserted, while in Columbus's time it was inhabited by great numbers of fishermen. These Cuban inhabitants used a small fish to catch the great sea-turtles. They tied this fish to a long cord of the revés (the Spanish name for the echeneis). This 'fisher-fish' fixed itself on the shell of the turtle by means of its suckers. The Indians pulled both sucker fish and turtle ashore. It took three days to pass through this labyrinth of Jardines and Jardinillos. As we moved east the sea got rougher.

The araguato, which the Tamanaco Indians call aravata and the Maypures marave, resembles a bear cub. From the top of its small and pointed head to the beginning of its prehensile tail it measures 3 feet; its coat is thick and reddish-brown; even its breasts and belly are covered in pretty fur. The araguato's face is blackish-blue, with wrinkled skin. Its beard is longish, and although its facial angle is no more than 30 degrees there is as much humanity in its look and facial expressions as in the marimonda (Simia belzebuth) and the capuchin (Simia chiripotes) of the Orinoco.