April 9th. We reached the Pararuma beach early in the morning where we found a camp of Indians, like those we had seen before. They had come to dig up the sand and harvest turtle eggs for their oil but unluckily they had arrived several days too late. The young turtles had broken out of their eggs before the Indians had set up camp. Crocodiles and garzas, a kind of white heron, had benefited from this mistake because they devour quantities of these young. They hunt at night as the young turtles do not break the surface of the sand until it is dark.

In the snake-bitten Indian's hut we found balls, some 2 to 3 inches thick, of an earthy, dirty salt called chivi, which Indians prepare meticulously. In Javita they make salt by burning the spadix and fruit of the seje palm. As well as this they also distil the ashes of the famous cupana, a liana. A missionary seldom travels without seeds prepared from the cupana. This preparation requires great care. The Indians break up the seeds and mix them with cassava flour wrapped in banana leaves and leave the mixture to ferment in water until it becomes a saffron-yellow colour. This yellow paste is dried in the sun and taken in the morning as a tea. The drink is bitter and stomachic, though I found it repulsive.

The look of the sky, the movement of electricity, and the downpour of the 28th March announced the start of the rainy season: we were still advised to go to San Fernando de Apure by San Francisco de Capanaparo, along the Sinaruco river and the San Antonio hato to the Otomac village recently founded on the banks of the Meta river, and to embark on the Orinoco a little above Carichana. This land road crosses an unhealthy, fever-ridden country. An old farmer, Don Francisco Sanchez, offered to lead us. His clothes revealed how simply people live in these far-off countries. He had made a fortune of 100, piastres yet he rode on horseback barefoot with large silver spurs. We knew from several weeks' experience how sad and monotonous the llanos are and so we chose the longer route along the Apure river to the Orinoco. We chose one of the long pirogues that the Spaniards call lanchas. A pilot and four Indians were sufficient to drive it. On the poop a cabin covered with corypha leaves was built in a few hours. It was so spacious that it could have held a table and benches. They used oxhides stretched and nailed to frames of Brazil-wood. I mention these minute details to prove that our life on the Apure river was very different from the time when we were reduced to the narrow Orinoco canoes. We packed the pirogue with provisions for a month. You find plenty of hens, eggs, bananas, cassava and cacao at San Fernando. The good Capuchin monk gave us sherry, oranges and tamarinds to make fresh juices. We could easily tell that a roof made of palm leaves would heat up excessively on the bed of a large river where we would be always exposed to the sun's perpendicular rays. The Indians relied less on our supplies than on their hooks and nets. We also brought some weapons along, whose use was common as far as the cataracts. Further south the extreme humidity prevents missionaries from using guns. The Apure river teems with fish, manatees (91) and turtles whose eggs are more nourishing than tasty. The river banks are full of birds, including the pauxi and guacharaca, that could be called the turkey and pheasant of this region. Their flesh seemed harder and less white than our European gallinaceous family as they use their muscles more. We did not forget to add to our provisions fishing tackle, firearms and a few casks of brandy to use as exchange with the Orinoco Indians.

Despite the small size of our boat, and the boasted skill of our pilot, we often ran aground. The bottom was soft so there was no danger of sinking. At sunset we preferred to lie at anchor. The first night was beautifully serene, with countless shooting stars all falling in the same direction. This area is completely deserted, while in Columbus's time it was inhabited by great numbers of fishermen. These Cuban inhabitants used a small fish to catch the great sea-turtles. They tied this fish to a long cord of the revés (the Spanish name for the echeneis). This 'fisher-fish' fixed itself on the shell of the turtle by means of its suckers. The Indians pulled both sucker fish and turtle ashore. It took three days to pass through this labyrinth of Jardines and Jardinillos. As we moved east the sea got rougher.

The wind hardly blew so the captain thought it safe to tack until dawn. He did not dare enter Cumana harbor at night. An unfortunate incident that occurred a year before justified his prudence. A mail-boat had anchored without lighting its poop lanterns; it was taken for an enemy and fired on by the fort. A cannon-ball ripped the captain's leg off and he died a few days later in Cumana.

At the end of April Bonpland and I had completed the observations we intended to make at the northern extreme of the torrid zone and were about to leave for Veracruz with Admiral Ariztizabal's fleet. But we were misled by false information concerning Captain Baudin's journey and decided to forgo our plan of passing Mexico on our way to the Philippine Islands. A newspaper announced that the two French sloops, the Géographie and the Naturaliste, had set sail for Cape Horn and would call in at Chile and Peru on their way to New Holland. This news shook me. I was reminded of my original intention in Paris when I had asked the Directorate to hasten Captain Baudin's departure. (138)

Having outlined the general aim, I will now briefly glance at the collections and observations we made. The maritime war during our stay in America made communications with Europe very uncertain and, in order for us to avoid losses, forced us to make three different collections. The first we sent to Spain and France, the second to the United States and England, and the third, the most considerable, remained constantly with us. Towards the end of our journey this last collection formed forty-two boxes containing a herbal of 6, equinoctial plants, seeds, shells and insects, and geological specimens from Chimborazo, New Granada and the banks of the Amazon, never seen in Europe before. After our journey up the Orinoco, we left a part of this collection in Cuba in order to pick it up on our return from Peru and Mexico. The rest followed us for five years along the Andes chain, across New Spain, from the Pacific shores to the West Indian seas. The carrying of these objects, and the minute care they required, created unbelievable difficulties, quite unknown in the wildest parts of Europe. Our progress was often held up by having to drag after us for five and six months at a time from twelve to twenty loaded mules, change these mules every eight to ten days, and oversee the Indians employed on these caravans. Often, to add new geological specimens to our collections, we had to throw away others collected long before. Such sacrifices were no less painful than what we lost through accidents. We learned too late that the warm humidity and the frequent falls of our mules prevented us from preserving our hastily prepared animal skins and the fish and reptiles in alcohol. I note these banal details to show that we had no means of bringing back many of the objects of zoological and comparative anatomical interest whose descriptions and drawings we have published. Despite these obstacles, and the expenses entailed, I was pleased that I had decided before leaving to send duplicates of all we had collected to Europe. It is worth repeating that in seas infested with pirates a traveler can only be sure of what he takes with him. Only a few duplicates that we sent from America were saved, most fell into the hands of people ignorant of the sciences. When a ship is held in a foreign port, boxes containing dried plants or stones are merely forgotten, and not sent on as indicated to scientific men. Our geological collections taken in the Pacific had a happier fate. We are for their safety to the generous work of Sir Joseph Banks, President of the Royal Society of London, who, in the middle of Europe's political turmoils, has struggled ceaselessly to consolidate the ties that unite scientific men of all nations.