The bamboo-lined road led us to the small village of San Fernando, located in a narrow plain, surrounded by steep calcareous cliffs. It was the first mission we visited in America. The houses, or rather shacks, of the Chaima Indians are scattered about, and are without vegetable gardens. The straight narrow streets cut each other at right angles. The thin irregular walls are made of clay and bound with lianas. The monotony of the houses, the serious and taciturn aspect of the inhabitants and the extreme cleanliness inside their homes reminded us of the establishments of the Moravian Brethren. (47) Each family cultivates the conuco de la comunidad, which is outside the village, as are their own individual vegetable plots. Adults of both sexes work there an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening. In the missions near the coast, the communal garden is nearly always planted with sugar cane or indigo and run by the missions. Their product, if the law is strictly followed, can be used only for the upkeep of the church and the purchase of whatever the priests may need. San Fernando's great square, in the center of the village, contains the church, the missionary's house and the modest building that goes pompously under the name of 'king's house' (casa del rey). This is the official hostel for travelers and, as we often confirmed, a real blessing in a land where the word 'inn' is unknown. These casas del rey can be found all over Spanish colonies, no doubt imitating the Peruvian tambos established by Manco Capac's laws. (48)

In the time of the Jesuits the Maypures raudal mission was well known and had as many as 600 inhabitants including several families of whites. Under the government of the fathers of the Observance this has shrunk to some sixty. Those who still live there are mild and moderate, and very clean. Most of the wild Indians of the Orinoco are not excessively fond of strong alcohol like the North American Indian. It is true that Otomacs, Yaruros, Achaguas and Caribs often get drunk on chicha and other fermented drinks made from cassava, maize and sugared palm-tree fruit. But travelers, as usual, have generalized from the habits of a few villages. We often could not persuade the Guahibos who worked with us to drink brandy even when they seemed exhausted. (106)

Near the Maypures village grows an Impressive tree some 60 feet high called by the colonists the fruta de burro. It is a new species of annona. The tree is famous for its aromatic fruit whose infusion is an efficient febrifuge. The poor missionaries of the Orinoco who suffer tertian fevers most of the year rarely travel without a little bag of fruta de burro.

We turned to the right to visit the ice cave situated at 1, toises, just under the perpetual snow altitude limit. During winter the grotto fills with ice and snow and, as the sun's rays do not penetrate its interior, summer heat is unable to melt the frozen water.

We were all on deck sunk in sad thoughts. There was no doubt that the fever raging on board had taken a pernicious turn. Our glances were fixed on a deserted mountainous coast, intermittently lit by the moon. The calm sea shone with a feeble phosphorescence. We heard only the monotonous cries of large sea birds seeking the shore. A deep calm reigned in these lonely places, but nature's calm contrasted with the painful feelings agitating us. Towards eight that night the dead man's knell was tolled; at this lugubrious signal the sailors stopped work and kneeled in short prayers in a touching ceremony, which, recalling the times when the early Christians saw themselves as members of the same family, brought us together in a common sorrow. At night the young Asturian's corpse was carried to the bridge, and the priest arranged to delay dropping him into the sea until dawn, according to the Roman Catholic rite. Everybody mourned the bad luck of this young man who but a few days before had seemed so fresh and healthy.