Nothing can compare to the majestic tranquillity of the stars in the sky in this solitary place. At nightfall, when we stared at the point where the horizon meets the meadows on this gently rolling plain, it seemed, as later in the Orinoco steppes, as if we were seeing the surface of an ocean supporting the starry vault. The tree at whose feet we sat, the luminous insects dancing in the air, the shining constellations of the Southern hemisphere, everything reminded us that we were far from our homeland. And if, in the middle of this exotic nature, the sound of cow bells or the bellowing of a bull came from the small valleys, memories of our native land were suddenly awoken. It was as if we heard distant voices echoing across the ocean, magically carrying us from one hemisphere to another. How strangely mobile is man's imagination, eternal source of his joys and pains!

Both here and in the Río Negro the humidity and consequent quantity of insects make all agriculture impossible. Everywhere you see large ants, which march in packed columns and devour all cultivated plants that are soft and juicy, while in the jungle they can find only woody stalks. If a missionary wants to plant lettuce, or any other European vegetable, he has to hang his garden in the air. He fills an old canoe with good earth and hangs it 4 feet above the ground with rope made from chiquichiqui palm or, more commonly, rests it on some scaffolding.

We observed that fern trees are usually far rarer than palm trees. Nature has limited them to temperate, humid and shady places. They shun the direct rays of the sun and while the pumos, corypha of the steppes, and other American palms prefer the naked, burning plains these tree fern, which seen from afar look like palms, maintain the character and habits of cryptogams. They prefer solitary places, shade, humidity and damp. Sometimes you find them on the coast, but only when protected by thick shade.

Some of the rivers flowing into Lake Valencia come from thermal springs, worthy of special note. These springs gush out at three points from the coastal granitic chain at Onoto, Mariara and Las Trincheras. I was only able to carefully examine the physical and geological relations of the thermal waters of Mariara and Las Trincheras. All the springs contain small amounts of sulphuretted hydrogen gas. The stink of rotten eggs, typical of this gas, could only be smelled very close to the spring. In one of the puddles, which had a temperature of 56.2°C, bubbles burst up at regular intervals of two to three minutes. I was not able to ignite the gas, not even the small amounts in the bubbles as they burst on the warm surface of the water, nor after collecting it in a bottle, despite feeling nausea caused more by the heat than by the gas. The water, when cold, is tasteless and quite drinkable.

Wherever the Temi forms bays the jungle is flooded for more than half a square league. To avoid the bends and shorten our journey the Indians leave the river bed and go south along paths or sendas, that is, canals, some 4 or 5 feet wide. The depth of the water rarely exceeds half a fathom. These sendas are formed in the flooded jungle like paths in dry land. Whenever they could the Indians crossed from one mission to another along the same path in their pirogues. But as the passage is narrow the thick vegetation sometimes leads to surprises. An Indian stands in the bow with his machete, incessantly cutting branches blocking the canal. In the thickest part of the jungle we heard an odd noise. As the Indian cut at some branches a school of toninas - freshwater dolphins - surrounded our boat. The animals had hidden under branches of a ceiba and escaped through the flooded jungle, squirting up water and compressed air, living up to their name of 'blowers'. What a strange sight, inland, 300 to 400 leagues from the Orinoco and Amazon mouths!

In Europe we calculate the number of inhabitants of a country by the extent of cultivation; in the Tropics, in the warmest and most humid parts of South America, very populated areas seem deserted because man cultivates but a small number of acres to feed himself. Without neighbors, virtually cut off from the rest of mankind, each family forms a different tribe. This isolated state retards the progress of civilization, which advances only as society becomes more populated and its connections more intimate and multiplied. But, on the other hand, solitude develops and strengthens liberty and independence; and has fed that pride of character which distinguishes the Castilian race.