The pilots trusted the ship's log more than my time- keeper, and smiled at my prediction that we would soon sight land, sure that we still had two to three days of sailing. It was with great satisfaction that on the 13th, at about six in the morning, high land was seen through the mist by someone from the mast. A strong wind blew and the sea was very rough. Every now and then heavy drops of rain fell. Everything pointed to a difficult situation. The captain intended to pass through the channel that separates the islands of Tobago and Trinidad and, knowing that our corvette was slow to turn, feared the south wind and the approach to the Boca del Dragon.

April 16th. Towards evening we heard that our boats had passed both rapids in less than six hours, and arrived in good condition at the Puerto de Arriba. 'Your boat will not be wrecked because you are not carrying goods, and you travel with the monk of the Raudales, a little brown man said to us bitterly. By his accent we recognized him as a Catalan. He traded in tortoise oil with the mission Indians, and was not a friend of the missionaries. 'The frail boats belong to us Catalans who, with permission from the Guianan Government, but not from the president of the mission, try to trade above the Atures and Maypures. Our boats are wrecked in the Raudales, key to all the missions beyond, and then Indians take us back to Carichana and try to force us to stop trading. What is the source of this deep hatred of the missions in the Spanish colonies? It cannot be because they are rich in the Upper Orinoco. They have no houses, no goats and few cows. The resentment is aimed at the ways the missionaries obstinately close their territories off to white men.

Four days had passed and our boat still had not reached the Pimichín river landing-stage. 'There is nothing you lack in my mission, Father Cerezo said to us. 'There are bananas and fish; at night mosquitoes do not bite; and the longer you stay the more likely it is that you will be able to observe stars. If your boat is wrecked during the portage we will get you another one and I will enjoy living a few more weeks con gente blanca y de razòn (with white and rational people). Despite our impatience, we listened with interest to this missionary's stories confirming all that we had been told about the spiritual state of the Indians in that region. They live in isolated clans of forty to fifty people under a chief. They recognize a common cacique only in times of war with neighbors. Between these clan. mutual mistrust is great, as even those who live near each other speak different languages. Such is the labyrinth of these rivers that families settled themselves without knowing what tribe lived nearest to them. In Spanish Guiana a mountain or a jungle just half a league wide separates clans who would need two days navigating along rivers to meet. In the impenetrable jungle of the torrid zone rivers increase the dismemberment of great nations, favor the transition of dialects into separate languages, and nourish distrust and national hatred. Men avoid each other because they do not understand each other, and hate because they fear.

In two days we went down the Orinoco from Carichana to the Uruana mission, again passing the famous Baraguan Strait. The Uruana mission is situated in a very picturesque place. The little Indian village backs on to a high granite mountain. Rocks rise like pillars above the highest jungle trees. Nowhere else is the Orinoco more majestic than when viewed from Father Ramon Bueno's missionary hut. It is more than 2, toises wide and runs in a straight line east like a canal. The mission is inhabited by Otomacs, a barbaric tribe who offered us an extraordinary physiological phenomenon. The Otomacs eat earth; every day for several months they swallow quantities of earth to appease their hunger without any ill effect on their health. This verifiable fact has become, since my return to Europe, the object of lively disputes. Though we could stay only one day in Uruana it was sufficient to find out how the poya (balls of earth) are prepared, to examine the reserves of this the Indians keep, and how much is eaten in twenty-four hours. I also found traces of this perverse appetite among the Guamos, between the Meta and the Apure. Everybody speaks of earth eating or geophagie as anciently known. I shall limit myself to what I saw and heard from the missionary, doomed to twelve years among this wild, unruly Otomac tribe.

After travelling several hours downhill over scattered blocks of stone we suddenly found we had reached the end of the Santa María jungle. As far as our eyes could see a vast plain spread out, its grass revived by the rainy season. Looking down on to the tree-tops it seemed as if we were looking at a dark green carpet below us. The jungle clearings seemed like huge funnels in which we recognized the delicate pinnate leaves of the praga and irasse palms. The countryside is extremely picturesque due to the Sierra of Guàcharo whose northern slopes are steep and form a rocky wall some 3, feet high. There is little vegetation on this wall, so you can follow the calcareous strata. The peak itself is flat.

In this same jungle we at last were able to solve the problem of the supposed fossil rubber that the Indians call dapicho. The old Indian captain Javita led us to a small stream that runs into the Tuamini. He showed us how to dig some 2 to 3 feet deep into the muddy ground between the roots of two trees: the jacio and the curvana. The first is the hevea or siphonia of modern botany, which yields rubber; the second has pinnate leaves; its juice is milky but very diluted and barely sticky. It appears that dapicho is formed when the latex oozes out from the roots, especially when the tree is very old and begins to decay inside its trunk. The bark and sapwood crack to achieve naturally what man himself must do to gather latex.