The city of New Valencia occupies a large area of ground, but its population is of some 6, to 7, souls. The roads are very wide, the market place (plaza mayor) is disproportionately large. As the houses are few the difference between the population and the land they occupy is greater even than at Caracas. Many of the whites of European stock, especially the poorest, leave their town houses and live for most of the year in their cotton and indigo plantations. They dare to work with their own hands, which, given the rigid prejudices in this country, would he a disgrace in the city. The industriousness of the inhabitants has greatly increased after freedom was granted to business in Puerto Cabello, now open as a major port (puerto mayor) to ships coming directly from Spain.

A little above the Davipe mission the Río Negro receives a branch of the Casiquiare whose existence is a remarkable phenomenon in the history of river branching. This branch emerges from the Casiquiare, north of Vasiva, under the name Itinivi; and after crossing a flat, virtually uninhabited country some 25 leagues long, pours into the Río Negro under the name of Río Conorichite. It seemed to me, near its mouth, to be 120 toises wide, and added large quantities of white waters to the black waters. Even though the Conorichite current is very fast, you shorten the journey from Davipe to Esmeralda by three days using this canal. It is not surprising to find a double communication between the Casiquiare and the Río Negro when you recall that so many American rivers form deltas when they meet other rivers. In this way the Branco and the Jupura pour into the Río Negro and Amazon through many branches. At the confluence with the Jupura there is another more extraordinary phenomenon. Before joining the Amazon this river, which is its main recipient, sends three branches called Uaranapu, Manhama and Avateprana to the Jupura, which is none other than its tributary. The Amazon thus sends its waters into the Jupura before receiving the waters of the latter back.

On the 20th of June, before sunrise, we set off for the Villa de Laguna, some 350 toises (13) above Santa Cruz harbor. The narrow and tortuous path leading to La Laguna climbs along a torrent, which in the rainy season turns into fine cascades. Near the town we met some white camels, barely laden. These animals are mainly used to transport goods from the customs house to the merchants. Camels are not numerous in Tenerife, while in Lanzarote and Fuerteventura there are thousands.

'You cannot imagine, said the old Mandavaca missionary, 'how perverse this familia de indios (family of Indians) is. You accept individuals from another tribe into your mission; they seem tame, honest, good workers; you let them out on a foray (entrada) to capture wild Indians and you can scarcely stop them throttling all they can and hiding pieces of the corpses. We had with us in our pirogue an Indian who had escaped from the Guaisia river. In a few weeks he had become very civilized. At night he helped us prepare our astronomical instruments. He was as cheerful as he was intelligent, and we were ready to employ him. Imagine our disappointment when through an interpreter we heard him say that 'Marimonda monkey meat, although blacker, had the same taste as human meat. He assured us that 'his relations - that is, his tribal brothers -preferred to eat the palms of human hands, as well as those of bears'. As he spoke he gestured to emphasize his brutal greed. We asked this young, pacifistic man through our interpreter if he still felt a desire to 'eat a Cheruvichanena Indian' and he answered calmly that 'in the mission he would eat only what he saw los padres (the fathers) eating'. It is no point reproaching Indians about this abominable practice. In the eyes of a Guaisia Indian, a Cheruvichanena Indian is totally alien to him; to kill one was not morally very different from killing a jaguar. Eating what the fathers ate in the mission was simply convenience. If Indians escape to rejoin their tribes, or are driven by hunger, they quickly fall back into cannibalism.

In the evening we passed the mouth of the Cano del Manati, named after the immense amount of manatees caught there every year. This herbivorous animal of the Cetacea family is called by the Indians apcia and avia, and reaches 10 to 12 feet long. The manatee is plentiful in the Orinoco. We dissected one that was 9 feet long while at Carichana, an Orinocan mission. The manatee eats so much grass that we found its stomach, divided into several cavities, and its intestines (108 feet long) filled with it. Its flesh is very savory, though some prejudice considers it to be unwholesome and fever-producing. Its flesh when dried can last for a year. The clergy consider this mammal a fish, so they eat it at Lent.

We passed some huts inhabited by mestizos. Each hut stands in the center of an enclosure containing banana trees, papaw trees, sugar cane and maize. The small extent of cultivated land might surprise us until we recall that an acre planted with bananas produces nearly twenty times as much food as the same space sown with cereals. In Europe our wheat, barley and rye cover vast spaces of land; in general arable lands border each other wherever inhabitants live on wheat. It is different in the torrid zone where man obtains food from plants that yield more abundant harvests more quickly. In these favored climates the immense fertility of the soil corresponds to the heat and humidity. A large population can be fed from a small plot of land covered with banana, cassava, yams and maize. The isolation of huts dispersed in the forest indicates to the traveler how fertile nature is.