After waiting for an hour we saw that our pirogue had safely crossed the raudal. We loaded our instruments and provisions and left the Guahibo rock. We began a journey that was quite dangerous. Above the cataract the river is some 800 toises wide and must be crossed obliquely at the point where the waters start rushing towards the fall. The men had been rowing for over twenty minutes when the pilot said that instead of advancing we were drifting back to the falls. Then there was a storm and heavy rain fell. Those anxious moments seemed to last for ever. The Indians whisper as they always do when in danger; but they rowed very hard and we reached the port of Maypures by nightfall.

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.

The Indians in Javita number about 160 and come from the Poimisano, Echinavis and Paraganis tribes. They make canoes out of the trunks of sassafras (Ocotea cymbarum), hollowing them out with fire and axes. These trees grow over 100 feet high, their wood is yellow, resinous, and never rots in water. It gives off a rich smell.

We had as travelling companions a Frenchman, Dr Rieux from Carcassonne, and the young son of the ill-fated Nariìo. The bad luck of these two moved us, reminding us of the state of oppression in this unhappy country. Dr Rieux, a charming, educated man, had come from Europe as doctor to Viceroy Ezpeleta. He was accused of interfering in politics, dragged out of his house in Honda in 1794, clapped in irons and taken to the inquisition prison in Cartagena. This damp place caused him a chronic blindness. For more than a year his wife had no news of his whereabouts. His belongings were dispersed and, as nothing could be proved, he was sent (bajo partido de registro) to Càdiz prison where his case would be forgotten. He managed to escape off the African coast.

Santa Cruz, the Aìaza of the Guanches, is a pretty town of some 8, people. I was not struck by the vast number of monks that travelers always find in the Spanish possessions, nor shall I bother to describe the churches, the Dominican library with its meager 200 tomes; nor the quay where people meet in the evening to enjoy the fresh air, nor the famous 30-foot-high monument in Cararra marble dedicated to Our Lady of Candelaria in memory of the virgin's miraculous appearance in 1392 in Chimisay, near Güimar. The port of Santa Cruz is in fact a great caravanserai on the route to America and India. Every traveler who writes his adventures begins by describing Madeira and Tenerife, though the natural history of these islands remains quite unknown.

'Tengo en mi pueblo la fàbrica de loza' (I have a pottery works in my village), Father Zea told us and led us to the hut of an Indian family who were baking large earthenware vessels, up to 2. feet high, out in the open on a fire of shrubs. This industry is characteristic of the diverse branches of the Maypures tribes, cultivated since time immemorial. Wherever you dig up the ground in the jungle, far from any human habitations, you find bits of painted pottery. It is noteworthy that the same motifs are used everywhere. The Maypures Indians painted decorations in front of us that were identical to those we had seen on the jars from the Ataruipe caves, with wavy lines, figures of crocodiles, monkeys and a large quadruped that I did not recognize but which was always crouched in the same position.