The Governor of Cumana expressed great satisfaction at our decision to remain awhile in New Andalusia, a province scarcely known in Europe at the time, not even by name, and whose mountains and numerous river banks afford a naturalist a wonderful field for observations. The governor showed us cottons dyed with indigenous plants and beautiful furniture carved from local wood. He was interested in all branches of natural philosophy, and to our amazement asked us if we thought that the atmosphere in the beautiful tropical sky contained more nitrogen than that in Spain, or if the speed with which iron oxidated was due to the greater humidity shown by the hair hygrometer. The name of his native country pronounced on a distant shore could not please the ears of a traveler more than hearing the words 'nitrogen', 'oxidation of iron' and 'hygrometer'. We knew, despite the court orders and recommendations of an influential minister, that we would face innumerable unpleasant incidents if we did not manage to make good relations with those ruling these immense lands. Sr Emparan was far too enamoured of the sciences to think it odd that we had come so far to collect plants and determine specific places from astronomical observations. He did not suspect any other motives than those that figured in our safe conducts, and the proof of public esteem he gave us throughout our stay in his territory contributed to giving us a warm welcome in all the South American countries.

All I could say about our journey from Esmeralda to the mouth of the Atabapo would be merely a list of rivers and uninhabited places. From the 24th to the 27th of May we slept only twice on land; the first at the confluence with the Jao river and the second below the Santa Barbara mission on Minisi island. As the Orinoco has no shoals the Indian pilot let the canoe drift all night with the current. It took us only thirty-five hours to reach Santa Barbara. The Santa Barbara mission is located a little to the west of the mouth of the Venturari river. We found in this small village of 120 inhabitants some traces of industry; but what the Indians produce is of little use to them; it is reserved for the monks or, as they say, for the church and the convent. We were told that a great silver lamp, bought at the expense of the neophytes, was expected from Madrid. Let us hope that after this lamp arrives they will think of clothing the Indians, buying them agricultural instruments, and schooling their children. The few oxen in the savannahs round the mission are not used to turn the mill (trapiche) to crush the juice from the sugar cane. This the Indians do and, as happens whenever Indians work for the church, they are not paid.

The Uruana inhabitants belong to those people of the savannah (Indios andantes), harder to civilize than those from the jungle (Indios del monte). They show a great aversion to agriculture and live exclusively from hunting and fishing. The men are tough, ugly, wild, vindictive and passionately fond of alcohol. They are 'omnivorous animals' in every sense. That is why other Indians consider them as barbarians and say, 'There is nothing, however disgusting it is, that an Otomac will not eat. While the Orinoco and its waters are low the Otomacs live on fish and turtles. They kill fish with astounding skill, hooting them with arrows when they surface. The river floods stop all fishing: it becomes as hard as fishing in deep sea. During the period of floods the Otomacs eat earth in prodigious amounts. We found pyramids of earth balls in their huts. The earth they eat is a fine oily clay, of a greyish-yellow; they cook it slightly so that its hard crust turns red due to the iron oxide in it.

It was half past four in the afternoon when we finished our observations. Satisfied with the success of our journey we forgot that there might be dangers descending steep slopes covered with a smooth, slippery grass in the dark. We did not arrive at the valley bottom until ten at night. We were exhausted and thirsty after walking for fifteen hours, practically without stopping. The soles of our feet were cut and torn by the rough, rocky soil and the hard, dry grass stalks, for we had been forced to pull our boots off as the ground was too slippery. We spent the night at the foot of La Silla. Our friends at Caracas had been able to follow us on the summit with binoculars. They liked hearing our account of the expedition but were not happy with the result of our measurements, for La Silla was not as high as the highest mountains in the Pyrenees.