In the Atures mission both types of tribe can be found. With the missionary we visited huts of the Macos. The independent Macos are orderly and clean. They have their rochelas, or villages, two or three days' journey away. They are very numerous and like all wild Indians cultivate cassava, not maize. Thanks to these peaceful relations some indios monteros, or nomadic Indians, had established themselves in the mission a short time before. They insistently asked for knives, hooks and colored glass beads, which they sewed on to their guayucos perizomas). Once they got what they wanted they slipped back to the jungle because missionary discipline was not to their liking. Epidemics of fever, so common at the start of the rainy season, contributed to the desertion. Jungle Indians have a horror of the life of civilized man and desert when the slightest misfortune befalls them in the mission.

Our stay in Turbaco was extremely agreeable, and useful for our botanical collection. Even today those bamboo forests, the wild fertility of the land, the orchids carpeting the old ocotea and Indian fig-tree trunks, the majestic view of the snowy mountains, the light mist covering the valleys at sunrise, bunches of gigantic trees like green islands above a sea of mist, all return incessantly to my imagination. Our life at Turbaco was simple and hard-working; we were young, linked by similar tastes and characters, always full of hope in the future, on the eve of a journey that would take us to the highest Andean peaks, and volcanoes on fire in a country where earthquakes are common. We felt happier than at any other moment in our expedition. The years that have passed since then, not without bitterness and hardships, have added to the charms of these impressions; I would like to think that in his exile in the Southern hemisphere, in the isolation of Paraguay, my unfortunate friend Bonpland (145) might still recall our delightful herborizings. As Bonpland's health had cruelly suffered during our journey on the Orinoco and Casiquiare we decided to follow the advice of the locals and supply ourselves with all the comforts possible on our trip up the Magdalena. Instead of sleeping in hammocks or lying on the ground on skins, exposed to the nightly torment of mosquitoes, we did what was done in the country, and got hold of a mattress, a country-bed that was easy to unfold, as well as a toldo, a cotton sheet, which could fold under the mattress and make a kind of closed-off tent that no insects could penetrate. Two of these beds, rolled into cylinders of thick leather, were packed on to a mule. I could not praise this system more; it is far superior to the mosquito net.

On the road to the harbor we were struck by the countless phosphorescent insects (Cocuyo, Elater noctilucus). The grass, the branches and the leaves of trees all shone with that reddish, flickering light. It seemed as if the stars had fallen on to the savannah! In the poorest hut in the country fifteen cocuyos, placed in a gourd pierced with holes, give sufficient light to look for things at night. Shaking the gourd excites the animals and increases the luminous discs on their bodies. A young woman at Trinidad told us that during a long passage from the mainland she used the phosphorescent cocuyos when she wanted to nurse her baby at night. The captain of the ship would use only cocuyos lights so as not to attract pirates.

We set off before sunrise, at five in the morning, with the slaves carrying our instruments. Our party consisted of eighteen people, and we advanced in Indian file along a narrow path on a steep grassy slope. From La Puerta the path becomes steep. You have to lean forward to climb. The thick grass was very slippery because of the prolonged drought. Cramp-irons and iron-tipped sticks would have been very useful. Short grass covers the gneiss rocks; it is impossible to grip it or dig steps into it as in softer soil. More tiring than dangerous, the climb soon disheartened the men accompanying us who were not used to mountain climbing. We wasted a lot of time waiting for them, and did not decide to continue alone until we saw them returning down the mountain instead of climbing up after us. Bonpland and I foresaw that we would soon be covered in thick fog. Fearing that our guides would use the fog to abandon us we made those carrying the instruments go ahead of us. The familiar chatting of the negroes contrasted with the taciturn seriousness of the Indians who had accompanied us up to then. They joked about those who had spent hours preparing for the ascent, and then abandoned it straightaway.

Among the Indians gathered at Pararuma we found some whites who had come from Angostura to buy turtle butter. After wearying us with their complaints about the 'poor harvest' and about the harm done by the jaguars as the turtles laid their eggs, they led us under an ajupa raised in the middle of the Indian camp. There we found the missionary monks from Carichana and the cataracts sitting on the ground playing cards and smoking tobacco in long pipes. These poor priests received us in a very friendly manner. They had been suffering from tertiary fever for months. Pale and emaciated, they had no trouble convincing us that the countries we were about to visit were dangerous for our health.

The passage from the mouth of the Río Negro to Grand Para took only twenty to twenty-five days, so we could have gone down the Amazon as far as the Brazilian coast just as easily as returning by the Casiquiare to Caracas. We were told at San Carlos that political circumstances made it difficult to cross from Spanish to Portuguese colonies, but we did not know until our return to Europe what danger we would have been exposed to had we gone as far as Barcellos. It was known in Brazil, probably through newspapers, whose indiscretion is not helpful for travelers, that I was going to visit the Río Negro missions and examine the natural canal uniting the two river systems. In these deserted jungles the only instruments ever seen had been carried by the boundary commissioners. The Portuguese Government agents could not conceive how a sensible man could exhaust himself 'measuring lands that did not belong to him'. Orders had been issued to arrest me, seize my instruments, and especially my astronomical observations, so dangerous to the safety of the State. We were to be led along the Amazon to Grand Para, and then back to Lisbon. Fortunately, the Lisbon Government instantly ordered that I should not be disturbed but rather encouraged.