Every day we went into the jungle to see how our canoe was advancing over land. Twenty-three Indians were dragging it by placing logs as rollers. Usually this takes a day and a hall, but our canoe was very large. As we also had to pass the cataracts a second time it was necessary to be very careful about not scraping it on the ground.

The port of Cumanà lies some 7 leagues from Cumanacoa. It hardly ever rains in the former place, while in the latter the rainy season lasts seven months. In Cumanacoa the dry season stretches from the winter solstice to the spring equinox. Sporadic showers are common in April, May and June; then a drought begins again until the summer solstice or the end of August. Then the rainy season proper starts and lasts until November, and water pours down in torrents from the sky.

On the 8th of February we set off at sunrise to cross Higuerote, a group of tall mountains separating the valleys of Caracas and Aragua. Descending the woody slopes of Higuerote towards the south-west we reached the small village of San Pedro, 584 toises high, located in a basin where several valleys meet. Banana trees, potatoes and coffee grow there. In an inn (pulpería) we met several European Spaniards working at the Tobacco Office. Their bad temper contrasted with our mood. Tired by the route, they vented their anger by cursing the wretched country ('estas tierras infelices') where they were doomed to live, while we never wearied of admiring the wild scenery, the fertile earth and mild climate. From Las Lagunetas we descended into the Toy river valley. This western slope is called Las Cocuyzas, and is covered with two plants with agave leaves; the maguey of Cocuzza and the maguey of Cocuy. The latter belongs to the Yucca genus. Its sweet fermented juice is distilled into an alcohol, and I have seen people eat its young green leaves. The fibers of the full-grown leaves are made into extremely long cords. At Caracas cathedral a maguey cord has suspended the weight of a 350-pound clock for fifteen years. We spent two very agreeable days at the plantation of Don José de Manterola who, when young, had been attached to the Spanish Legation in Russia. Brought up and protected by Sr de Xavedra, one of the more enlightened administrators in Caracas, de Manterola wanted to leave for Europe when that famous man became minister. The governor of the province, fearing de Manterola's prestige, arrested him in the harbor and when the order from Spain finally arrived to release him from such an unjust arrest the minister had fallen from grace.

We had a tiring and dangerous climb up a bald granite hill. It would have been impossible to have kept our balance on the steep slippery surface of the rock had it not been for large feldspar crystals that stuck out and supported us. At the summit we were amazed at the extraordinary panorama. An archipelago of islands covered with palm trees filled the foamy river bed. The setting sun seemed like a ball of fire hanging over the plain. Birds of prey and goatsuckers flew out of reach above us. It was a pleasure to follow their shadows over the wall of rocks.

The destruction of the forests, the clearing of the plains, and the cultivation of indigo over half a century has affected the amount of water flowing in as well as the evaporation of the soil and the dryness of the air, which forcefully explains why the present Lake Valencia is decreasing. By felling trees that cover the tops and sides of mountains men everywhere have ensured two calamities at the same time for the future: lack of fuel, and scarcity of water. Trees, by the nature of their perspiration, and the radiation from their leaves in a cloudless sky, surround themselves with an atmosphere that is constantly cool and misty. They affect the amount of springs by sheltering the soil from the sun's direct actions and reducing the rainwater's evaporation. When forests are destroyed, as they are everywhere in America by European planters, with imprudent haste, the springs dry up completely, or merely trickle. River beds remain dry part of the year and are then turned into torrents whenever it rains heavily on the heights. As grass and moss disappear with the brushwood from the mountainsides, so rainwater is unchecked in its course. Instead of slowly raising the river level by filtrations, the heavy rains dig channels into the hillsides, dragging down loose soil, and forming sudden, destructive floods. Thus, the clearing of forests, the absence of permanent springs, and torrents are three closely connected phenomena. Countries in different hemispheres like Lombardy bordered by the Alps, and Lower Peru between the Pacific and the Andes, confirm this assertion.

In the chronicle of our journey to the Caripe missions I did not wish to insert general considerations concerning the customs, languages and common origins of the different Indian tribes populating New Andalusia. Now, having returned to my starting-point, I will place in one section matters that concern the history of human beings. As we advance further into the interior of the continent this subject will become even more interesting than the phenomena of the physical world.

The Casiquiare Indians, though easily reverting to barbaric customs, show some intelligence in the missions, work well and learn Spanish. As most missions have two or three tribes speaking different languages the language of the missionaries lets them communicate with each other. I saw a Poignave Indian talk in Castilian with a Guahibo, though both had left the jungle only three months before. Every quarter of an hour one spoke a carefully prepared phrase in which the verb, following the grammar of their own languages, was always a gerund ('When me seeing the father, the father me saying...').