This Brazil-nut tree is usually not more than 2 to 3 feet in diameter, but reaches up to 520 feet in height. The fruit ripens at the end of May and, as they are as big as a child's head, make a lot of noise when they fall from so high up. I usually found between fifteen and twenty-two nuts in one fruit. The taste is very agreeable when the nuts are fresh; but its copious oil - its main use - quickly goes rancid. In the Upper Orinoco we often ate quantities of these nuts for want of food, and no harm came to us. According to trustworthy Indians only small rodents can break into this fruit, thanks to their teeth and incredible tenacity. But once the fruit have fallen to the ground all kinds of jungle animals rush to the spot: monkeys, manaviris, squirrels, cavies, parrots and macaws fight over the booty. All are strong enough to break the woody seed case, pick out the nut and climb back up the trees. 'They too have their fiestas, the Indians say as they return from the harvest To hear them complain about these animals you would think that the Indians alone are masters of the jungle.

A dreadful circumstance forced us to stay a whole month in Angostura. The first days after our arrival we felt tired and weak, but completely healthy. Bonpland began to study the few plants that he had managed to protect from the humidity while I was busy determining the longitude and latitude of the capital and observing the dip of the magnetic needle. All our work was interrupted. On almost the same day we were struck by an illness that took the form of a malignant typhus in my travelling companion. At that time the air in Angostura was quite healthy and, as the only servant we had brought from Cumana showed the same symptoms, our generous hosts were sure that we had caught the typhus germs somewhere in the damp Casiquiare jungles. As our mulatto servant had been far more exposed to the intense rains, his illness developed with alarming speed. He got so weak that after eight days we thought he was dead. However, he had only fainted, and he later recovered. I too was attacked by a violent fever; I was given a mixture of honey and quinine from the Caroni river (Cortex angosturae), a medicine recommended by the Capuchin monks. My fever continued to rise, but vanished the following day. Bonpland's fever was more serious, and for weeks we worried about his health. Luckily be was strong enough to look after himself; and took medicines that suited him better than the Caroni river quinine. The fever continued and, as is usual in the Tropics, developed into dysentery. During his illness Bonpland maintained his strength of character and that calmness which never left him even in the most trying circumstances. I was tortured by premonitions. It was I who had chosen to go up-river; the danger to my companion seemed to be the fatal consequence of my rash choice.

On our way to the port of Orotava we passed through the pretty villages of Matanza and Victoria. These names are found together in all the Spanish colonies and contrast in an ugly way with the peaceful feelings those countries inspire. Matanza signifies slaughter, and the word alone recalls the price at which victory was won. In the New World it generally indicates the defeat of the Indians; at Tenerife the village of Matanza was built in a place where the Spaniards were defeated by the Guanches, who were soon sold as slaves in Europe. (15)

The Indians we found at San Francisco Solano belong to two different tribes: the Pacimonales and the Cheruvichanenas. The latter came from a prestigious tribe living on the Tomo river, near the Manivas of the Upper Guiana, so I tried to find out from them about the upper course of the Río Negro, and where I could find its sources; but my interpreter could not make them understand the true sense of my question. They just repeated over and over again that the sources of the Río Negro and the Inirida were as close together as two fingers on a hand'. In one of the Pacimonales's huts we bought two great, beautiful birds: a toucan (piapoco), similar to the Ramphastos erythrorynchos, and an ana, a kind of macaw, with purple feathers like the Psittacus macao. In our canoe we already had seven parrots, two cock-of-the-rocks (pipra), a motmot, two guans or pavas del monte, two manaviris (cercoleptes or Viverra caudivolvula), and eight monkeys, of which three were new species. Father Zea was not too happy about the rate our zoological collection increased day by day, although he kept that to himself. The toucan resembles the raven in its habits and intelligence; it is a brave creature and easy to tame. Its long, strong beak serves as its defense. It becomes master of the house; steals whatever it can, frequently takes a bath, and likes fishing on the river bank. The one we bought was very young, yet throughout our journey it took malicious delight in molesting the sad, irritable monkeys. The structure of the toucan's beak does not oblige it to swallow food by throwing it into the air as some naturalists claim. It is true that it does have problems lifting food from the ground, but once food is seized in its long beak it throws back its head so that it swallows perpendicularly. When this bird wants to drink it makes an odd gesture; monks say it makes the sign of the cross over the water. Because of this creoles have baptized the toucan with the strange name of Diostedé (May God give it to you).

With the Maypures Indians, it is the women who decorate the vessels, clean the clay by washing it several times; then they shape it into cylinders and mould even the largest jars with their hands. The American Indians never discovered the potter's wheel.

This site has something wild and tranquil, melancholic and attractive about it. In the midst of such powerful nature we felt nothing inside but peace and repose. In the solitude of these mountains I was less struck by the new impressions recorded at each step than by the fact that such diverse climates have so much in common. In the hills where the convent stands palm trees and tree fern grow; in the afternoon, before the rainfalls, the monotonous screaming of the howler monkeys seems like a distant wind in the forests. Despite these exotic sounds, and the strange plant forms and marvels of the New World, everywhere nature allows man to sense a voice speaking to him in familiar terms. The grass carpeting the ground, the old moss and ferns covering tree toots, the torrent that falls over steep calcareous rocks, the harmonious colors reflecting the water, the green and the sky, all evoke familiar sensations in the traveler.