Despite Bonpland's tiresome accident I found myself the next day, the 28th of October, at five in the morning, on the roof terrace of our house, preparing to observe the eclipse. The sky was clear and beautiful. The crescent of Venus and the constellation of the Ship, so dazzling because of the proximity of their enormous nebulae, were soon lost by the rays of the rising sun. I congratulated myself for such a fine day, as during the last weeks storms had built up regularly in the south and south-east two or three hours after the sun passed the meridian and had prevented me setting the clocks with the corresponding heights. At night one of those reddish vapors, which hardly affect the hygrometer in the lower levels of the atmosphere, covered the stars. This phenomenon was all the more extraordinary as in previous years it often happened that for three or four months one did not see the least trace of cloud or vapor. I observed the complete progress and end of the eclipse.

The tribes of the Upper Orinoco, the Atabapo and the Inirida, worship only the forces of nature. The principle of good is called Cachimana; it is the manitu, the great spirit, that controls the seasons and ripens fruit. Next to Cachimana there is the principle of evil, Jolokiamo, less powerful but more astute and, especially, more dynamic. When the jungle Indians go to missions it is difficult for them to conceive of a church or an image. 'These good people, said our missionary, 'like only outdoor processions. Recently when I celebrated the village's saint's day the Inirida Indians came to mass. They told me: Your god is locked into a house as if he was old and sick; our god is in the jungle, in fields, in the Sipapu mountains from where the rains come. In the larger, and thus more barbarous tribes, peculiar religious societies are formed. Some of the older Indians claim to be better initiated in divine matters and guard the famous botuto that they play under palm trees to make the fruit ripen. On the Orinoco banks no images or idols can be found, but the botuto, the sacred trumpet, is worshipped. To be initiated into the mysteries of the botuto you must be pure and celibate. The initiated are subject to flagellations, fasting and other disciplinarian practices. There are few sacred trumpets. The most famous is found on a hill at the confluence of the Tomo and Guainia rivers. It is said it can be heard at a distance of 10 leagues. Father Cerezo assured us that Indians talk of this botuto as the object of a cult common to several neighboring tribes. Fruit and alcoholic drinks are placed round this sacred trumpet. Sometimes the great spirit Cachimana himself blows the botuto, sometimes he speaks through whoever guards the instrument. As these tricks are very ancient (the fathers of our fathers, the Indians say) you should not be surprised that there are many believers. Women are not allowed to see the marvelous trumpet, and are excluded from all religious service. If one has the misfortune to see it she is mercilessly killed. The missionary told us that in 1798 he was lucky enough to save a young girl whom a jealous lover had accused of having followed the Indians who sounded the botuto. 'They would have murdered her publicly, said Father Cerezo. 'How could she have protected herself from Indian fanaticism, in a country where it is so easy to be poisoned? I sent her away to one of the missions on the Lower Orinoco.

The location of the town of Santa Cruz is similar to La °, the busiest port in the province of Caracas. The heat is excessive in both places, but Santa Cruz is sadder. On a deserted sandy beach, houses of a dazzling white with flat roofs and windows without panes lie close to a rocky cliff stripped of vegetation. A fine stone quay and public walk planted with poplars are the only attraction in that monotonous picture. From Santa Cruz the peak seems far less picturesque than it does from the port of Orotava. There a smiling and richly cultivated plain contrasts with the wild appearance of the volcano. From the groves of palm and banana trees on the shore to the region of strawberry trees, laurels and pine the volcanic rock is covered with luxuriant vegetation. It is easy to see why the inhabitants of the beautiful climates of Greece and Italy thought they had discovered one of the Fortunate Isles on the western part of Tenerife. The eastern Santa Cruz side is everywhere marked with sterility.

Our first day in the missions corresponded to the first day of the rainy season. Every night a thick mist covered the sky like a uniform veil; only through clearings did I manage to make any observations of the stars. The thermometer marked between 18. and 20°C, which in this zone, and for a traveler arrived from the coast, appeared rather cold. In Cumanà I never saw the thermometer go lower than 21°C. The hottest hours are from midday to three in the afternoon when the thermometer rises to 26°C or 27°C. During the hottest hour of the day, two hours before the sun passes over the meridian, a storm regularly built up and then exploded. Thick black low clouds dissolved in rain; the downpour lasted two to three hours while the thermometer sunk to 5°C or 6°C. At about five the rain stopped, the sun appeared just before sunset, and the hygrometer moved towards the point of dryness; by eight or nine at night we were again enveloped in a thick mist. These different changes follow successively - we were assured day after day for months, yet not the slightest breeze was felt.

We crossed some violent rapids before reaching the Mandavaca mission. The village, also called Quirabuena, has only sixty inhabitants. Most of these Christian settlements are in such a deplorable condition that over a stretch of 50 leagues we counted barely 200 people. The river banks were more populated before the arrival of the missionaries. The Indians retreated into the jungle towards the east as the plains on the west are uninhabited. They live for part of the year off the large ants I have already described. In Mandavaca we met a good missionary who had spent 'over twenty years of mosquitoes in the Casiquiare jungles' and whose legs were so spotted by mosquito bites that you could hardly see he was a white. He spoke of his isolation, and the sad necessity that forced him to witness how the most atrocious crimes went unpunished. In Vasiva a few years before an Indian chief had eaten one of his wives after taking her from her conuco and fattening her up with plenty of food. If the Guiana Indians eat human flesh it is not because of privations, or during rituals, but out of vengeance after a victory or, as the missionaries say, 'out of their perverted greed'. Victory over an enemy horde is celebrated with a feast where parts of prisoners' corpses are eaten. During the night an enemy family is attacked, or an enemy found by chance in the jungle is killed by a poisoned arrow. The corpse is cut up and brought home like a trophy. Civilization has led man to sense the unity of the human race, the bonds that link him to customs and languages which he does not know. Wild Indians hate all those who do not belong to their tribe or family. Indians who are at war with a neighboring tribe hunt them as we would animals in the wood. When they see unknown jungle Indians arrive at their mission they say: 'They must be related to us as we understand what they say. They recognize only their own family: a tribe is but a reunion of relations. They recognize family and kin ties, but not those of humanity in general. No feelings of compassion prevent them from killing women or children of an enemy tribe. These latter are their favorite food after a skirmish or ambush.

On the 3rd and 4th of July we crossed that part of the Atlantic Ocean where charts indicate the Maelstrom; at night we changed course to avoid the danger, though its existence is as dubious as that of the isles of Fonseco and Saint Anne. (19) The old charts are filled with rocks, some of which really exist, though most are due to optical illusions, which are more frequent at sea than on land.